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calypsocolada · 3 months

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MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka

(click here for part two!)

synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k

click here for my masterlist

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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?”

You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again.

Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?

You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya.

But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since.

Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived.

When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed.

You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet.

Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons.

It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds.

In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile.

“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes.

When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind it took shape.

The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks.

The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family.

“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command.

You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.

Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you.

“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer.

“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away.

A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test.

A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair.

“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way.

When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced.

“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword.

“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders.

“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.

“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.

“Shall we?”

But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.

“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.

“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station.

You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart.

That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.

“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.

“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew.

“It’s quiet.”

“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.

“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of.

“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work.

“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.

“Do you need help?”

“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you?

“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.

“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way.

“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.

“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head.

“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”

“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.

“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you.

“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?

“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.

“Not a fan?”

“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight.

“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.

“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.

“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye.

“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.

“You and Kanroji worked together?”

“Surprising, right?”

“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”

“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement.

“Strong, fierce, never quit.”

“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me?”

“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.

“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed.

You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.

“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.

“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”

“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.

“Can’t.”

“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.

“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often.

“And?”

“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.

“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”

“Giyu,”

“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head.

“You don’t. No one does.”

“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first.

“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.

“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game.

“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”

“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”

“My inn isn’t too far.”

“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.

“No. I’m going back to my inn.”

“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’d do it for you.”

“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back.

“Come back. Please.”

“You’re annoyingly persistent.”

“I just want you safe. That’s all.”

“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that.

Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction.

You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal.

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”

“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?”

“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.

“Ah! That’s right I did.”

You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.

Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.

Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen.

You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed.

You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another.

Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.

You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku.

But you loved Giyu.

You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.

And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.

#fem reader #demon slayer giyuu #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyu x reader #giyu x y/n #giyu x you #giyuu x reader #kny giyuu #kny x reader

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starrywilliams · 4 months

Text

guilty as sin? | abby anderson

“these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head”

warnings: masturbation, slight masochism, ruined orgasm, angst, perv!abby (a little), internalized homophobia (discussed in more detail below)

notes: no surprise my favourite ttpd song is the gayest one on the album, but guilty as sin? screams lesbian guilt i fear!!!! i’ve been writing this for over a month so i hope u guys like it 😭

cw: discussion of lesbian guilt & comphet - these are somewhat based on my own experiences with my sexuality and i absolutely!!! do not think a man can ‘cure’ a lesbian or anything similar to that. nor do i believe anyone should ever feel guilty for being gay. realising i’m a lesbian has been extremely freeing & dykes r the best x

wc: 1.8k

likes, comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

the door slammed harshly behind abby as she stormed into her room. she pulled her jacket off desperately; her skin hot under its tight vice. she’d been in the gym, trying to work out her endless frustration of late, when you’d walked in.

you’d only said “hi" and smiled politely at her before setting your things down. but she felt her stomach churn, a black hole opening inside her. abby stood up, pulling the weights off the barbell and onto their rack. she grunted softly, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.

you’d started stretching, currently bent over as you touched your toes. her eyes drifted for an infinitesimal moment, locking onto the swell of your-. she looked away - wrongwrongwrong.

but then she looked back, her stare feasting on your body. she wondered whether you were doing this on purpose, trying to tempt her from across the room. she wondered if you knew her dirty little secret, abby picturing a smirk on your face as you mocked her for such indecent thoughts.

she didn’t want to feel this way. she didn’t want to feel the poison ivy swarming around her chest, getting tighter, tighter. the rash spread inside her; this invisible whip of lust lashing against her skin whenever your face appeared in her mind. well, had it been just your face maybe she wouldn’t feel like some depraved sinner.

now it wasn’t like abby believed in god, in a world where death and destruction infect every crevice you’d have to be mad to believe that any ‘god’ wanted its followers to suffer so greatly. but something inside her screamed every time she had these thoughts. these impure, twisted thoughts about you.

she didn’t know what made her feel like this. what made her resent you for simply existing; and what made her resent herself.

she recalled her teenage years, when manny had subtly suggested that owen liked her - so she was supposed to like him back, right? and she tried! she loved him even - but there was always that something, that feeling in her gut that told her that something was wrong, something about him that just would never sit right with her.

but all the other girls wanted a boyfriend too, and the jealousy was nice at first - she’d thought. after all, mel was the star student, a doctor in the making, her dad’s favourite; and nora was this freshly trained medical officer, and abby was- abby was just abby.

her dad began noticing her more too - previously too preoccupied with his firefly duties and his favourite student. now his little girl was slipping away from him, he finally began paying her the amount of attention she’d craved for so long.

before, their conversations had often drifted into talk of mel and her new achievements, or his hopes of a vaccine, or some animal he was tracking. never anything about his daughter’s life.

having a boyfriend made her interesting, it gave the other girls something to envy. which was a nice reversal, for a while. then her dad died, and she had become this object of pity. owen helped a bit, she supposed. he tried to distract her and keep her focused on their new role as soldiers, but she barely cared about him anymore. all she wanted was revenge, and with revenge, came you.

you were one of the gyms trainers, passionate about helping the members of the wlf stay fit and healthy! you’d helped her start lifting weights, squealed as she reached every milestone, and had remarked jokingly about just how much you loved her new physique.

it was innocent at first, the most being her brain going a little fuzzy when you’d bit your lip while spotting her; a slight blush when you’d hugged her a little too tight. then, once she and owen were finally broken up, these new pictures began hanging themselves on the walls of her mind. still, innocent, just slightly tainted with desire - the true nature of them still an avoidable matter for her back then.

when she could ignore the truth in her recent behaviour, abby loved spending time with you. after all, you were just really good friends! anyway, she’d had a boyfriend before so everyone knew she was normal, and absolutely not different, and she would never ever have to feel like an outsider.

yet it took a mere three months before she gave up on this foolish lie. she liked you, and as long as nobody ever found out, it wouldn’t matter.

but as her mind grew dark and twisted - joel a constant topic in her head as she obsessed over finally getting to enact revenge - her thoughts got worse in turn. she wanted you - filthily and desperately.

every gym session ended with another cold shower, a desperate plea for her body to stop and let her focus on the task at hand; a hopeless attempt to bury this ache into the ground; an endless endeavour to escape these urges for just one second.

but then she came back changed, every hair on her body endlessly erected with guilt. the way she’d killed him so mercilessly, the way it had done nothing to ease the pain, and the way you had tormented her mind ceaselessly throughout the entire trip.

maybe, had she never met you, she could’ve just killed him and been satisfied. maybe had you never offered to train her personally, she could’ve just stayed comfortable in that stuffy closet. maybe if she found the right man she’d stop feeling this way.

abby deemed such ideas unfathomable now.

owen made her feel nothing. being with him was like an eternal thursday, an endless wait for the week’s end and its pleasure to turn up at her door. every day she’d wait for some spark to arrive, the routine only becoming more and more tedious by the minute. but he helped her get people’s attention, which was enough when she was just abby.

but then she was abby anderson, top scar killer and isaac’s favourite. she got attention on her own, she was praised for her own accomplishments: people worshipped the fucking ground she walked on. but they didn’t know who she really was.

they didn’t know she liked girls the way she was supposed to like boys. she’d seen it in enough of those wlf movie nights - cruel jokes about anyone who even thought about being different. she’d heard the way people gossiped, “did you hear that they’re moving lesbians into the family unit? what a joke.”

they said it like it was something dirty, something egregious, something that she had to hate about herself. so she did.

but as long as she kept it secret, kept it locked away in her mind, maybe she’d be okay. after all, only your actions talk: it was the age old question really, if a tree falls in a forest and no one else hears it, does it make a sound?

abby fell back against her bed sheets, calloused hands pushing her cargos down to her ankles as she replayed the sight of you in her mind. bent over - she felt like you were trying to tempt her on purpose.

she felt like a heathen; staring, fantasizing, worshipping. her mind was bursting with the idea of every possible position she could put you in; head a chorus of every little noise she wanted to hear you make; eyes screwed shut as depravity filled her every sense.

she shoved her bralette up her chest roughly, fingertips dragging over her nipples with little mercy. she pinched them, the peach skin stinging underneath her touch.

she wanted it to hurt; wanted it to feel like some sort of punishment for her thoughts. but as her hips bucked into the air, a long whine dragging from her clenched jaw, she realised it needed to hurt more.

she imagined you, finding her like this. disgust burnt into your features - what the fuck was she doing? repeating your name like some subverted prayer, fingers harshly scratching along her stomach as she tried to make the pleasure feel more like pain, trying to induce some connection between the two.

if it hurt enough, would she stop? force herself to forget? could she torture this part of herself until it surrendered?

her hand slipped over the top of her boxers, a finger running tentatively over her clit through the now darkened fabric. she bit down on her lip, groaning against it as she pushed down harder and harder, attempting to break through the skin.

another finger pressed down, beginning to draw circles down on the throbbing bud. she jolted against her own touch, your head between her legs burning into her mind. your hands, trailing along her flesh - groping at her with little tenderness; tongue, swiping at her pussy with no intent of fulfillment: she wanted you to make her weep, smoke out her lungs with shame, deny her from gratification until all she could feel was regret.

she pulled away, only to cover her fingertips with her spit - diving under her boxers to continue with her corruption. abby let out a strangled sigh, hips grinding against her fingers as they toyed with her clit.

she moved a hand to her hair, knuckles stretching against her scalp as she began to pull her braid. she grunted, yanking even harder. she whispered your name: pained, hopeless.

she sped up her assault against her pussy, feeling that pit in the bottom of her stomach begin to grow. “pleasepleaseplease” her voice cracked as she begged, unsure what she was pleading for.

she wanted to stop, but she needed to try and make this feeling go away. she knew it would come back, it always did - but even five minutes free from your torment on her mind might save her.

her fingers kept going, drawing desperate circles against her weeping pussy relentlessly. the void was growing, almost consuming her entirely at this point. she thought of you laughing at her current state: a crying mess, pussy wet with perversion.

it was sick, really - how the idea of you hating her for this made her need even worse. you’d probably think it appalling: someone who was supposed to be your friend, now sat here burning at the thought of you.

a part of her wished that you shared this sickness. that you too let yourself be overwhelmed by the thought of sin. maybe you didn’t let the guilt swallow you whole - she hoped so.

but there was no point lingering in the what-ifs, they were far too fleeting.

her deft fingers quickened their pace, the ache all consuming. the climb began - a desperate jump towards oblivion. closer, closer. the flames scorched her bedsheets as her breathing hastened.

fuck, she hissed before reaching the apex with a scream of your name. a scream? a whisper? a thought? it didn’t make her actions any less deplorable.

her conscience grabbed pleasure by the throat as she ripped her fingers away, putting out the blaze on her hips like a cigarette crushed on the ground.

the desire imploded within the walls of her torso; scratching against her insides in the vengeance of her denial.

it was wrong; she had to stop it. yet still, the guilt poured into her lungs with no chance of resolve. she was a fool for thinking it would fix her. maybe next time it would work. maybe next time the exorcism would finally purify her.

until next time.

#abby anderson #tlou #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #abby anderson angst #abby anderson is a lesbian #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson fics #abby anderson fic

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yaksha-lover · 7 months

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It Will Come Back

Summary: You take in an injured fox, nursing it back to health. It keeps coming back, some times more human-like than others.

Kitsune!Malleus Draconia x Reader

cw: very minor description of blood/gore, mentioned wild animal death, minor suggestive jokes, starts out a little spooky (or so i tried) but inevitably becomes wholesome-ish, pls ignore typos i’m too tired to proof-read

The fox you find by the riverside isn’t like any you’ve seen before. His fur is so dark that it takes a moment for you to even notice the wet blood matting the left side of his rib cage.

The sight of an injured animal is all too common for you. Living far from any big towns means there’s hardly any available treatment for them. Your neighbour, the only other living person around here, always dismisses your worries about the poor creatures, telling you that it’s only the circle of life.

As much as you know he’s right, your bleeding heart insists on taking the black fox home, if only for him to have some comfort in his last moments. You know he won’t survive the journey to town; he may not have the hours necessary to get there.

He’s large for a fox, too. You consider calling your neighbour to help, but you know he’ll only roll his green eyes at your pleas. Instead, you lift him into a wheelbarrow as gently as you can, and pull him back to your small cottage.

He whimpers a little as you move him, but his eyes remain closed. When you arrive, you transport him carefully to the makeshift bed you’ve put together, piles of blankets you hope will be enough to keep him warm and comfortable.

When you come back with water and some medical supplies, the fox opens one eye. It’s strangely eerie, the way he stares at you as you approach. His lime gaze is intense and focused, almost as though he’s trying to examine you, peeling away your skin with his eyes. You shake off the feeling, knowing you’re probably overthinking things.

He’s only an animal, after all.

The fox remains silent as you clean his wounds. Thankfully, they don’t seem as bad as you initially suspected. It’s strange - there seemed to be so much blood before, the wound was practically gushing. Was it a trick of the light?

You must be tired from your long day of foraging; now you’re seeing things.

You leave him wrapped in bandages and huddled in blankets to rest for the night.

The next morning, you awake to a warmth at your side. It’s been getting a bit colder, but even your blankets don’t tend to run this hot. You pop an eye open and panic for a moment at the fluffy black mass curled up beside you. You giggle to yourself when you realize what’s happened.

“How’d you get up here, little fox? I thought you’d feel too ill to move.”

The fox raises his head at the noise, tilting it as you speak. You offer him your hand, and he sniffs it, before moving his head to be cupped in your extended palm.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. Make yourself at home,” you say, petting him gently between the ears. He closes his eyes and settles into your touch.

As you get up to begin your day, you expect him to stay curled up in your sheets. Instead, he hops off the bed, suddenly wide awake, and prances happily behind you into the kitchen, no sign of the injury he suffered just last night.

Questions run through your mind, unease playing in your stomach. It’s all so bizzare, but you try to settle the anxiety. Why question a good thing, no matter how strange?

“What should I call you, little guy? I don’t want to keep calling you ‘the fox.’”

He stares at you, green eyes narrowed softly as he takes a seat on your couch, making himself at home by cuddling into the cushions. The seating is already worn down, but either way, you wouldn’t care much about where he sat.

“Hmm, how about Tsunotarou? Your ears are so pointy, they almost look like little horns!”

He raises his head to look at you, as though he understands. You smile back at him, mooning over his cuteness and reaching a hand out to pet him. You hover your hands over his head, waiting for his go ahead.

You beam when he pushes his head up into your hand, petting enthusiastically but remaining gentle for his sake.

You’re interrupted by a knock at the door. There’s only one person who ever comes over, so it’s no surprise to hear the voice of your neighbour ring out in the silence.

“Oi, open the door, herbivore. What’s all this blood outside your home?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not mine,” you call from inside. You walk to the door, letting him in. “I…made another rescue attempt.”

He gives you a look that screams ‘seriously’. “Another failure then? I don’t know why you do this to yourself.”

“Actually, Leona, this one was a success. Check my couch before you doubt me so fast.”

Leona pushes you gently away from the doorway so he can come in, and peeks around the corner.

The expression on his face morphs from surprise to confusion to disappointment. Leona sighs. “You didn’t…”

“Didn’t what? Save a life? Clearly, I did. Although, I’ll admit Tsunotarou wasn’t in such bad shape, so maybe I didn’t do too much of the work. But still, you can stop calling me silly for wanting to try-”

“Tsunotarou??” Leona stares at the fox. He stares back and almost seems…amused? Strange, your fox certainly was expressive and clever. “Ugh, this is too much for me to deal with. You’re an adult, you can handle it. I’m just going to leave these here.”

Leona drops a bag of meat on the counter. It was part of your usual trade; he’d give you part of his hunt, and you’d give him part of what you grew in your garden.

“No one asked you to help deal with him? What do you mean…”

Leona ignores your questioning, heading out of your kitchen and stopping as he passes by the couch where Tsunotarou still lays, watching. He turns to face him.

“Don’t hurt them. I’ll be checking in again soon, so no tricks, or else you’ll be dealing with me.”

“Did you just threaten my rescue fox?”

He ignores you once again, only pausing briefly in the doorway to leave you with a final warning.

“Scream if you need help.” With that, Leona is off, probably back to his cottage across the field.

You’re left confused, but Leona rarely cares to let you in on what he’s thinking, so you try your best to just ignore his words. There’s a prick of fear in the back of your mind, though, because Leona is never serious, but his warning certainly seemed to be.

No, he’s just been talking nonsense. How could the sweet angel on your couch be any threat? Tsunotarou had cuddled up to you just this morning.

You finally turn back to him. He’s watching you. Again. With a slight head tilt this time, his dark ears standing straight, as though he’s curious. You approach the fox to sit beside him on the couch. Once you begin your soft pets, he places his head into your lap.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Big bad Leona won’t hurt you. I don’t know what’s up with him today. He’s probably just spooked from all the dead animals that have been showing up around the area. I mean, what does he expect, we live in the woods.”

Tsunotarou picks himself up from the couch. You expect him to jump off, maybe even try to escape through the door. Instead, he plants himself fully in your lap, curling up into a tight little ball.

Even the overwhelming cuteness of the situation is too much for you to ignore how strange it is. As you stroke your hand across his fur once again, you wonder how this wild fox could be so tame. Was he someone’s pet once? He had no collar, but he could’ve been lost years ago.

With the warmth of the fox in your lap, it’s easy to drift off to sleep for a quick nap.

Tsunotarou’s gone when you wake up. At first you think he’s just gone off to explore the house, but you’ve checked every room and he’s nowhere to be found. Which would normally be fine (he is a wild animal after all, he deserves to be where he belongs) except for the fact that no doors nor windows were open or broken. Tsunotarou had disappeared with no explanation.

You awaken to a familiar warmth, the brush of something soft against your bare legs.

“Were you hiding somewhere Tsunotarou?” You smile, eyes still closed as you snuggle against- skin?

“Not hiding. I had some business to attend to.”

Your eyes pop open as whatever is in your bed circles its arms around you, letting out a scream as two very human eyes stare back at you. You scramble out of its hold.

“What the hell?! Who are you? Get out of my bed!”

He pouts. “You just said yourself, I’m Tsunotarou.”

“No, Tsunotarou is a-” It’s only then you take notice of the dark ears poking out of his head and the three tails swaying behind him. “How did you- never mind, just get out of my bed first! Who told you you could be there?”

He steps out from your sheets, thankfully clothed in a loose black kimono. “My apologies. Children of man have changed much since I last spoke to one. I did not realize I would alarm you with my presence in this form.”

“So what, you’re some kind of monster?”

Malleus frowns. “I prefer the term creature. Monster suggests something…wicked.”

“Alright, creature then.” You narrow your eyes. “What kind?”

He approaches you and ruffles your hair, sharp claws dragging gently against your scalp before you have the chance to pull away. “Surely you can guess by my form. Have you truly never encountered a kitsune before?”

“A kitsune? I thought they were only tales told by bored grandparents.”

“I’m a mori kitsune, so it’s understandable you’ve never seen my kind before. But it’s likely you’ve met a different kind of kitsune who prefers the more…urban spaces that children of man typically occupy.”

“You don’t like being around humans?”

He hums. “I wouldn’t say that’s true. Rather, the opposite seems to be the case. Most children of man find me…unsettling, despite my best efforts.” He makes eye contact, a small smile appearing on his face. “But not you. You took care of me.”

“When…when I thought you were a fox.”

“Technically, I am still a fox,” he says cheekily.

You glare weakly, but your ire doesn’t seem to break his good mood.

You’re out gathering herbs for dinner when you spot it. A trickle of deep red, so dry it almost looks brown, which builds into a streak across the ground, as though whatever left it behind was dragged as it thrashed.

Although you know you live in a forest full of wild animals, the scenes you’ve come across recently have been…odd. Brutal. As though whatever’s been killing and eating the animals has a strangely horrifying way of committing the act, leaving behind carnage, but never a body.

You force yourself to shake off the unsettling feeling and return back home once you’re done.

“Hello, my dear.”

You jump slightly at the voice. Tsunotarou sits on your couch when you return. You’d asked him to leave the previous day, after your long bouts of questioning left you exhausted and unable to deal with all the information. He seems to have returned to reclaim the same place he occupied as a fox. You don’t bother asking how he got in.

“Hello…Tsunotarou? It feels strange to keep calling you that made up name…do you plan to offer your own?” you ask as you put away the things you’d gathered in your cupboards.

He waits for a moment to respond, considering your words. “I suppose I can, although I do not mind your other name for me. You may call me Malleus, if you wish.”

“Malleus, huh. Why do I feel like I’ve heard your name before?”

“Perhaps in another lifetime, you spoke it often,” his smile grows as you turn around and look at him skeptically. “Just jesting, of course.”

You roll your eyes when you turn around. He’s certainly made himself comfortable with you; you can’t really say the same, considering how long you’ve known each other.

Still, you’re so unsettled by what you’ve been seeing for the past few weeks, you risk allowing him to believe you’re closer than you are to have someone to talk to about it.

“You wander out in the woods at night, right? Have you seen the blood and…things, left behind by something?”

His reply is delayed, but you barely take notice. “Yes, I have.”

“Isn’t it disturbing? I just keep thinking, what’s moved into the forest to do something like that, like it’s some kind of performance of torment instead of an animal eating to survive.”

Malleus only hums, offering you no comfort. “I never considered that.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. You start on dinner, and he seems content to watch you from the couch. Since he’s already here, you offer to make a larger portion so he can have some as well.

“Thank you, but I’ve already dined today,” he replies.

It’s only once you’ve finished cooking and have settled into your kitchen table that Malleus makes his way from the couch to occupy the seat across from you.

You’re halfway through your soup when a question forms in your head.

“Malleus, how did you get hurt when I found you?” You look up at him, his green eyes finding yours.

Another pause before he answers. “It was a mere tussle with a…friend.”

“A friend did that to you? I thought you were going to die?!”

“Well, perhaps he would not consider me a friend. And while your concern is certainly endearing, I was in no true danger. Did you happen to notice how fast my wounds healed?”

“I guess I did…” Although it raises the question why he’s so insistent on clinging to you when you barely did anything to care for him, let alone save his life. “Your friend…where is he now?”

“Across the field. What children of man call ‘your neighbour’.”

“Leona? Leona did that to you? How is that even possible, I thought kitsune are infinitely stronger than humans?”

“Is that what he told you?” Malleus drawls.

“No, you’re the one who told me…what do you mean?”

He sighs in understanding. “Never mind, I suppose that is his business to tell you.”

“To tell me what?”

“Why don’t you pay your ‘friend’ a visit? It seems you have some things to discuss.”

Leona answers within a few seconds of your knocking, standing in the doorframe. When you stare at him without saying anything, his tail starts swishing in discomfort. Since when has he had a tail?

“You need something, herbivore? That little fox causing you trouble?”

You ignore his question. “Can I come in?”

He doesn’t reply, swinging the door open and stepping out of the way. You take off your shoes at the door and head into his living room.

“Make yourself at home, I guess,” he grumbles, following you.

You turn around to face him. “Why did you hurt Malleus? How do you even know a kitsune?”

“‘Malleus,’ is he now? What happened to Tsunotarou?”

“I didn’t know he wasn’t just a fox, okay? You didn’t tell me, but apparently you knew this whole time?”

He looks away from you. “I figured the problem would resolve itself. Kitsune aren’t exactly known for sticking around humans. Unfortunately, it seems he’s taken an interest in you.”

“And you fought him? Do you have a death wish? There’s no way a human could take on a kitsune!”

“I’m not- never mind. Let’s just say I was in an…altered state of mind. Wasn’t thinking clearly. Can we leave it at that?”

“That’s all you’re going to give me? No explanation for why you attacked him? Are you responsible for all the brutal animal killings too?”

Leona rolls his eyes. “You’re accusing me? Like you don’t already know how those happened.”

“What?”

“You can’t be serious. Are you really this obtuse?”

“Just spit it out, Leona.

“Malleus is the one who eats them, idiot. He’s a fox who likes to play with his prey”

“But- his fox form is petite? How is that possible?”

Leona rolls his eyes. “He can go from fox to human but that’s your concern? He’s magic and a trickster, so don’t believe everything your senses tell you.”

You think Malleus has left by the time you return from Leona’s, but he’s really made himself at home in your bedroom instead. You don’t bother addressing it yet.

“Why did you lie to me?”

His eyes look up from his book. Your book. “I have never lied to you, child of man.”

“Leona told me the truth! I know you’re the one who’s been killing those poor animals. How can I trust you, no, feel safe around you after you lied, and did…all that.”

“Your ‘neighbour’ is just the same as me. Do you no longer trust him as well?”

You sit down beside him on the bed. “Leona’s a kitsune?”

Malleus chuckles. “No. He has lied to you, though. He is not human but wolf. He hunts, just the same as I do. He just happens to be better at cleaning up his messes, I suppose.”

“I…I guess that makes sense. But that’s different. I know Leona, he’s my friend. And he doesn’t torment his prey.”

Malleus’ ears sag and he pouts. “I believed we were friends as well. We dined together. I slept in your bed.”

“When I thought you were an animal! Now you’re somebody else.”

“I am the same. It wounds me terribly that you’d change your opinion of me based on my appearance.” He sighs. “I suppose it’s only natural. Others often judge me quickly as well.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You know it’s not like that. If I’d met you like this, I wouldn’t have…”

“Wouldn’t have treated me so kindly?”

“No, I just…I don’t know how it is for you kitsune, but for humans, sharing a bed is…”

“Intimate?” he offers. “I am aware. I simply believed you were enamoured with me. ‘Love at first sight,’ isn’t that what children of man like to say?”

“You were a fox,” you deadpan.

“And now, I am human. Primarily.” His ear twitches. “I know now that changes things, but perhaps it is for the better? There’s many things I’ve yet to try in this form, and now I have my own child of man to teach me. Delightful, isn’t it?”

“Hm, I guess so. You can’t sleep with me, though.”

He tilts his head. “In what sense?”

You try to flick him on the forehead but he stops you, linking his hand with your own instead. “Do you even know how- uh-”

He laughs. “Yes, I am aware how children of man mate.”

“Never mind, we’ve gotten off track.” You glare at him. “I’m still angry with you.”

“I am aware. I find your flushed look quite compelling.”

“I wish you hadn’t lied to me.”

“Technically, I hadn’t. You never asked if it was I who killed them.” He shakes his head. “Kitsune must eat, but I would have never done so in that manner, if I had known it would be upsetting to you. I haven’t since our conversation, and I will not going forward, I promise you, dear child of man.”

“You’d do that? For me?”

“Of course. Anything for you, my darling.”

“But why? I’ve barely done anything for you?”

“You offered me kindness, which is in short supply for kitsune. And I find I quite like your abode.” He moves closer, catching your chin in his hand and turning you to face him. “I would enjoy spending more time here, if it would be permissible to you?”

“I guess that would be okay…but no funny business.”

His lips twitches. “None at all.”

Despite his inexperience with humans, Malleus learns how to settle into your life well. Tonight, he’s even insisted on cooking for you. He’s been practicing for a while, so you’re intrigued to finally try what he’s prepared.

As he plates the food in front of you, the smell wafts until you’re practically drooling. You catch him with a self-satisfied smile from the corner of your eye, as he watches you feast on the food he’s made for you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s very good, thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Once the two of you finish your food, you take a seat beside one another on the couch. Malleus pulls out a small pouch. “I have something for you, my child of man.”

“A gift? You didn’t have to, Malleus.”

“I wished to. Now please, present me your hand.”

He takes your hand gently into his grip and straps on a stunning silver bracelet. It’s slim, but engraved with symbols, each segment a different kind.

“Thank you, Mal. I love it. Where did you get it, all the way out here?”

“I have had it in my possession for a very long time. Centuries, perhaps. It holds a protection spell from a strong mage. It will protect you, as you once protected me.”

You don’t know what to say, so you turn to hug him instead. You throw your arms around Malleus, squeezing him. It takes no longer than a moment for him to squeeze back.

It’s an hour later, once you’re in the middle of a game of chess, that Malleus speaks while moving his pawn.

“Do children of man desire life mates? I’ve observed, you live all by your lonesome.”

“A partner? Yeah, but not many options living out here.” You move your knight.

“Surely, there are some you might consider.” He moves another pawn.

“Nah, I’m not interested in Leona like that.”

“I did not mean the wolf. Someone a bit closer to yourself. Perhaps in this very room.”

“If you want to say something, you should say it. Humans prefer that.”

“Duly noted. Child of man, I desire to be your mate.”

The next time Leona comes to drop off your exchange of goods, he enters without announcing himself and accidentally gets an eyeful of you and Malleus making out on your couch.

“Leona! Knock much?!”

“Hello, Kingscholar.”

“Draconia.”

You shift your eyes between the two of them. It’s not exactly tense, but there seems to be no love lost between them.

Leona turns back to you. “So, you’re shacking up with him now?” His face scrunches up. “Do I need to prepare myself for little hybrid brats running around here sometime soon?”

“Says you, Mister I-forgot-to-mention-I’m-a-werewolf.”

Leona snickers. “I didn’t forget, I just didn’t feel like telling you. Humans can be annoying about those kinds of things.” He glances back to Malleus at your side. “Guess I didn’t have to worry about that, huh?”

“They are more kind than most humans, to be sure.”

“Right, and you’re not just saying that because you’ve been scr-”

“Leona!” you cut him off. “Thank you for bringing the meat. Your veggies and herbs are on the counter in the brown bag.”

He grabs his things and heads out the door, pausing to drop one last cheeky comment: “I guess if I hear you screaming, I shouldn’t worry this time. Maybe just for your legs.”

Malleus chuckles. “I will be gentle.”

“Hey, don’t enable him!”

A/N: Inspired by Hozier’s “It Will Come Back” !!!

don’t let me in with no intention to keep me / jesus christ, don’t be kind to me / honey, don’t feed me, it will come back ~

#wrote this for halloween but alas…#finished it six months later ahaha #every post i make is just ‘listen to hozier’ propaganda #twst x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland

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ancientpersacom · 1 year

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I am looking respectfully 👀

*Sweats* listen I like emo looking noodles ok

#cw suggestive #l lawilet #death note #l death note #death note fanart #death note lawliet #death note l #death note fandom #l lawliet fanart #dn lawliet #lawliet #art #digital artwork #artists on tumblr #digital art #anime art #fanart

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catsteeth · 7 months

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The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

+:✿ Chapter - 1 ✿:+ New Pretty Cage

next chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of animal death, alcohol consumption, mention of infant death, mention of parent(s) death, loras being very lgbtq , mention of arranged marriage.

Leaving the Eyrie at first was exciting. You hated to admit it, you screamed at your father for even suggesting it, you cried like a child, but it was. The Eyrie was hardly a home, It was cold, isolated, and a constant reminder of what you’d lost. Kings Landing was warm, crowded, and offered a future outside of living in the past.

Your father, Jon Arryn, was more than optimistic that you would find a suitor worthy of your name. Your aunt and now step mother, Lysa Arryn was elated at the opportunity of ridding her and Robin’s lives of you.

After the death of your mother, Elorie of house Tully, your father married her sister, your aunt. You could have stomached it, you could have even forgiven it, if it weren’t for the fact your mother died during her labors of childbirth.

As you and your father rode in the carriage, your mind couldn’t help but think of it. You’d spent your mothers entire pregnancy hoping she’d bear a son. You even prayed, prayed to the seven Gods whom you didn’t even believe in. You had hoped if the child was a boy, you wouldn’t have to be wed off to the best house name possible.

What's worse, not only did the labors kill your mother, but it also killed your brother. You’d prayed for a brother and the Gods gave you a brother. But they took him away and your mother with him.

You had spent days sulking, wallowing in grief. Unbeknownst to you, all the while your father was arranging his own marriage with Lysa. A son followed behind soon, Robin, the brat. You hated him, even if you were the same blood.

“We approach,” your father said under his breath. It was enough to bring you back to reality.

“How long will I be here?” You asked, knowing the answer. Your father shot you a look with a furrowed brow, as if to say, “You already know.” You nodded as your concerned gaze turned to a glare as you looked out the carriage into the city. You lost your sweetness after your mother died, you were in no rush to get it back.

“Who am I to wed?” You asked flatly, your stoic expression and eyes filled with venom shot outside of the carriage and away from your father.

He sighed and looked upon you softly. “The Baratheon boys are eligible I suppose,” before he could finish you began. “Blondes, I have a distaste for blonde men.” You say as you rest your chin on your fist, still staring outside of the carriage. Your father let out a sigh about to lecture you on the importance of uniting families and the unimportance of such trivial things like personal happiness. But you cut him off, you look at him with eyes filled with venom, “I know you’ve a plan. You don’t go into anything blind.” he let out a small huff of a laugh as you arrived at the impressive castle. Your eyes did move from your fathers however. “You are just like your mother. Filled with angry eyes and hard questions.” Your eyes narrowed a bit, as the door to the carriage opened.

“Welcome Lord Arryn, welcome Lady (Y/N)”

Later that evening, you met the Lannisters and Baratheons over dinner.

You took note of the “Baratheon boys” your father mentioned. Sons of the King. From all those story books you'd read as a girl you would have thought that Princes’s would be handsome, kind, gentle, and brave. However you weren’t a naive child anymore. So the scrawny and boyish looking Joffrey didn’t surprise you, but did disappoint you. And Tommen was boyish too however Tommen was just that, a boy, a child. You found yourself praying again, praying you wouldn’t be subjected to an arranged marriage between either of them.

The dinner was mostly spent with your father and Robbert yammering, and occasionally people needing to remind you that you were being spoken to.

It was strange, on one hand you were excited to be out of the isolation of the Eyrie, on the other hand you couldn’t care less about the people around you. That was until the royal family's guard stepped into the room. The man was giant, standing at least 6 '6, his shoulders were so broad he had to step into a room at an angle. You felt your eyes linger on the figure just a second too long. Reverting it back to your hands in your lap.

You felt her cheeks blush, you felt yourself get embarrassed by this. But the thing is you’ve never seen a man like that. You never saw a man that big, a man that broad, ever. The Eyrie was secluded and maybe men from the vale were just shorter. Maybe this was a southern thing. Before you could roll the thought around your brain for long, the hulking figure walked to the opposite side of the room, it was only then when you noticed his face lit by the candle lights.You saw the left side of his face first. His face was masculine, there was nothing about his appearance that was feminine. As you analyzed his face, he turned it towards you which is when you saw the opposite of his face. It was horribly scarred, all the hair on his face was burnt off and ribboned in scarred tissue.

It was beautiful. You’d never seen anything like it.

You didn’t break your gaze as it was intertwined with the giant in the room. His deep brown eyes seemed somewhat confused with something about you. You felt the blush returning to your cheeks and nose as you studied him. You only broke your improper gaze once you felt the dread you feel everytime your fathers gaze comes towards you. You were able to look away before he noticed. He grabbed ahold of your hand and shot you a half hearted smile hoping your sour mood would magically improve with this minimal affection. However the daggers in your eyes did not surrender.

You spent the following days walking around the castle, hoping for another glimpse at the man everyone feared so terribly. You asked your father about him, “He’s the royal family's dog, both the Cleganes are. They are not the kind of people I wish for you to be around.” You rolled your eyes, but the information you got from anyone else was no better. His monstrous and vile actions. His temper is so fierce he’d kill anyone without a second thought. But when you saw his eyes, those deep brown eyes, they weren’t mean or angry they were sad. They were scared.

Days in this shit city were long, and often just as boring as the days in the Eyrie. Only instead of a shivering cold there was a sticky warmth. Instead of Lysa and Robin there was Cersei and Joffrey. At least Robin didn’t kill little creatures and beat girls for fun.

There were some advantages to living here however. There were more books, more food, more drinks, more dresses, more music. Living so high in the mountain such luxuries were sparse. Luxuries like friends, of which you felt you gained a few. The Tyrells for example were the only people you felt you could be truly honest with. Specifically Loras, there was a sense of vulnerability you two shared with each other. Both of you are unhappy with the prospect of marriage, arranged specifically. You remember the time he confessed to you that he was in love with a man. You walked through the garden together, those times became special. The only times when you and he could speak plainly. You always thought of how lovely it would be to have a friend, someone to trust solely. You always thought it would be a woman but you couldn’t complain.

You held onto his hands as he confessed. He said he wished he could change, to not be what he was.

“Never,” You held onto his hands tighter “Never wish for such things. Change even a single thing of you and you aren’t you. And you are my friend, my dearest friend.” You whispered, he embraced you tightly. You however had a slight growing distaste for Renly, a man who brought such tears to your friend.

To anyone secretly observing, it was courting. To you and he, it was friendship. In its purest way.

Maybe your father was true to his promise, he’d find you a man whom you’d love, a man who was brave and gentle. Only this love was different. As he was the only person you could trust.

The two of you thought of a plan for you and the wedding of one another. It was a good plan, the two of you would be bound by love and respect of which you both shared for the other. And the two of you would be free to find romantic, and sexual love freely. Loras teased you’d be able to fuck all the KingsGaurd if The Hound did not please you. It made you giggle but blush in embarrassment like a little girl.

Honestly you and he would have had the most healthy relationship of all the realm, and the only difference would be the two of you never consummated. But who would need to know?

You almost went through with it after the death of your father. If it weren’t for the fact Cersei forced her company upon you so much, you could have ran to the nearest septon and made your marriage official. But Cersei never left you alone, you were either with her, or one of her ladies. And, and you hated to admit it, you’d miss those butterflies in your belly anytime you caught The Hounds gaze. It makes your cheek red and your belly burn. And you loved it, it might have been the only reason you could have lived during those days. You spent anytime you got alone with Loras talking about The Hound, a topic he grew bored of quickly. So you also spoke of your marriage.

However these plans changed at the arrival of your cousin Sansa. Upon her arrival you saw a girl who would never handle the city she was stepping into with such naive big eyes and fairy tale fantasies of her future. You agreed with Olenna that Loras should attempt to court Sansa prior to her wedding with Joffrey, one last attempt at her freedom. You began to care less and less of your own.

Selfless yes, but stupid.

During the tournament you sat beside Sansa, and her father Nedd Stark who had such an affinity to your father apparently it was transferred to you now that he was dead and gone. She begged her father to stop the tournament. You wanted to roll your eyes at it, but you also wished someone would stop it as well. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane, scared you. He was different from his brother. The Hound was almost as big but he had a stoic and sad nature to him, even though everyone told you to beware. The brother you feared was Gregor, he was unstable, rabid, and frightened you to no end. You’d hoped your plan of him using your mare, who was in heat, would work.

It was a trick, but a good one, if it worked. And it did, it upsets and confuses Gregor's mount. Gregor was thrown off his horse. You felt a wave of relief as Sansa stood and cheered. What you didn’t account for was Gregor's reaction. Gregor, absolutely furious, decapitated his own horse. You, still seated, grabbed ahold of Sansa’s arm as Gregor made his way to Loras. You sat and watched, you hoped someone, anyone would intervene. Renly, Nedd, the King, anyone.

Just as you were sure that was the end, “Leave him be!” The giant man behind you roared. The Hound swung his sword blocking a fatal blow to Loras. You sat there, your eyes not wide but narrowed and brows furrowed. You studied the battle between these two brothers. You wondered why, why would this man risk his own life just to save one of Loras? If he was the merciless monster that everyone had claimed, why do this? As you watched these men fight you noticed, the noble men all fought as they were trained, this man fought as he knew would kill. He fought with experience.

You couldn’t help but find it exciting.

As The King called off this fight, The Hound dodged a fatal blow he simultaneously bowed to the King. This made your lips part slightly as you struggled to conceal a smile.

As Loras named The Hound champion everyone stood and clapped, but not you.

You sat and stared at the man, your cheeks with a renewed blush on them. You smiled softly at him, his gaze soon met your own. Once met, it was hard to break.

You managed to weasel your way out of the sight of the Starks and Lannisters to check on Loras. As you made your way to the stables you didn’t find Loras but The Hound. You felt like you walked into a brick wall as you saw the Giant drinking from a wine skin sitting against the stable that held your own horse. He didn’t look at you as he said “Your pretty boy isn’t here, girl.” as he took another long swig of the wineskin in his fist.

“I’m sure I don’t know who you refer to.” You lie as you slowly walk over to your horse.

“Fuck you don’t.” He hissed “Dirty trick you and that boy pulled.”

“No honor in tricks.” You say feeding your horse some feed from your palm.

“Honor,” He scuffs “only cunts believe in that shit.” your brows raised, you’d never heard a man curse so much. They rarely did in the company of a Lady.

“There was honor in what you did, It was quite brave, Ser.”

“I'm not a ser, I already told your pretty boy that.”

“Loras is not my ‘pretty boy’” you said in a mocking tone making the hound crack a small smirk.

“Fuck off,” He scuffed, “Round that boy you’re as in heat as that bitch mare in that stable.”

“Is that why you came here? You sit in front of my mare's stable because you wanted to accuse me of having relations with a friend of mine?” You eyes shift from your mare to glare at him with disgust. His eyes locked with yours. He hardly needed to look up at you to see your eyes.

“I don’t like the way you look at me.” He said flatly

“I don’t like the way you talk to me.” Your eyes went back to your mare. “Don’t talk to me like that and I won’t look at you like that.”

“Don’t matter how you look at me, just that you do.” He said as he took another swig.

You looked down contemplating what that could have meant as you looked over to him.

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ tell ya not to do that?” He growled however your gaze did not falter.

“You did not, you said you don’t like it.” You asserted mockingly, not at all scared of this man beside you, even though you maybe should be.

He stood, showing just how small you were in comparison to him. As he loomed over you, his eyes raked over every part of you, avoiding your eyes.

“It will serve you well to listen to a man. Save yourself some pain. Some men, like to hit stubborn girls like you. Men who like to beat them.” He said in a somewhat more gentle tone than before.

Your eyes met him once more, as you looked up at him, you realized he’d never been so close to you.

“And what of you? Are you one of those men?” You asked teasing him, testing his patience

“Maybe,” he rasped “You don’t know the things I’ve done,”

You turned your body towards him to face him completely.

“You should be scared of me, of any man in this shit city.”

“I should be, but I’m not. I tried to be, but I can’t make myself feel frightened by you.” You said fidgeting with your necklace.

“I’m a killer,” He wrapped his fingers around your throat, but his grasp was hardly there at all, almost like he was hovering his hand there. “I could crush your pretty throat.”

“Do it.” You said quickly, His brows furrowed, “You think I want to live here? Do it.” you held onto his wrist, needing both hands to grasp his thick wrist fully. “No, you won’t hurt me.” You say softly.

His hand runs down your throat and lays flat engulfing your chest in his palm as his fingers laid on your collar bone. He felt your heartbeat for a moment, savoring it. “No, no little bird, I won't hurt you.” He conceded painfully, the name he called you made your cheeks blush. With that he turned away from you and stomped out of the stables.

You felt yourself release a breathe, fuck, you thought to yourself.

Few questions remained in your mind, ‘Why was he so gentle?’ and ‘Why did he make you feel this way?’

NOTE: Hi, this is my first time writing any fanfiction- believe me it will get better. We will be fuckin I promise we will be laying it down girls!! This one is mainly just world building. Let me know if there's anything you’d like to see going forward!

Xoxo

Bambi <3

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argentisbeloved · 7 months

Text

Diluc, Dainsleif & Dan Heng as vampires

pairings: diluc, dainsleif & dan heng x gender neutral reader

cws: biting and blood drinking, some swearing, them burning in the sunlight, slight suggestiveness in dain’s part (not rlly it’s barely even one moan)

tags: them as vampires, hurt/comfort, modern au (dan heng), kissing, dan heng’s part is dialogue heavy

notes: diluc’s part is also inspired by an art the lovely @/mmmairon as well as a drabble by @/hiraya_rawr. also also i wanna say that dan heng has more of a modern au type of thing going for him, so just keep that in mind!

word count: 3911

DILUC RAGNVINDR: (1340 words)

•Diluc was turned during a near death experience in Snezhnaya. A passing vampire spotted his body bleeding out on the ground and decided the only way to save him was by turning him.

•Though, Diluc would've rather died on that night.

•After he was turned, and he experienced his first craving for blood, he went on a rampage that he'd quickly come to regret afterwards.

•Out of guilt of realising what he's done, he exiled himself into solitude. Opting to not go back home ever again in case he'd hurt someone in Mondstadt if he did go back. He resided in an abandoned manor that he'd fixed up over a century or two.

•Instead of drinking human blood, he drank animal blood instead. Though he'd never drink enough from them to fatally wound the animal.

•Meaning for a very long time, he'd been suppressing his cravings for human blood.

•And when you came into the picture, it wasn't pretty for him.

•You'd knocked on his door one late night seeking for shelter from a storm that was starting to form. While the logical side of his brain screamed at him to not let you stay, he inevitably let you inside for the night.

•He brewed you a cup of tea, and let you stay in one of the spare rooms. By morning, and after you left, he expected that to be the last time he'd ever see a human for another century or so.

•He was proved wrong when you showed up at his doorstep again late into the afternoon with some food to thank him for letting you stay the night.

•After this, you ended up visiting him more and more. You quickly noticed how he wouldn't answer a lot during the day, but you just assumed he was busy working (in reality, he refused to open the door to not get burned by the sunlight).

•Because of your frequent visits, you ended up befriending Diluc.

•And before he knew it, Diluc was falling completely head over heels for you, to his dismay.

•The thought of loving you terrified him greatly. He was a vampire and you were a human for goodness' sake! It could never work between you two! The thought of losing himself because of you, your scent, and your blood made him so scared. He didn't want to harm you, or worse, he didn't want to accidentally lose control and kill you.

•So, in hopes to drive you away; he decides to reveal himself to you. To reveal the monster he is to you.

A letter from Diluc had you walking to his manor in the middle of a warm spring day, something you wouldn't usually do. You figured that he had a day off from work today and that he wanted to spend it with you. The last part of that thought making your heart throb in your chest.

You soon approached the door to his manor, knocking gently on the door three times. It didn't take long before the dark oak doors opened to let you inside. You entered casually as Diluc held open the door for you, closing and locking it once you had fully entered his estate.

He led you over to the sitting room, placing a pre-made cup of tea in front of you, to which you quickly accepted and drank out of. The two of you conversed together for a little while, with everything being light hearted and fine, as it usually was.

That was until Diluc suddenly questioned you;

"How do you feel about me?"

His question caught you by surprise, your eyes widening and a small blush starting to coat your cheeks. You laugh awkwardly, trying to calm yourself down from how his question startled you.

You open your mouth, planning to say "You're a good friend of mine!" And while that isn't a lie, a friend isn't something only you want to be to him, you want to be something more.

"Please, tell me the truth."

His words catch you off guard for the second time in such a small period. You choke down your words and take a deep breath, before reluctantly saying your true feelings to him.

"I... I'm in love with you, Diluc."

In that moment, the light hearted air in the room had quickly dissipated. With the way Diluc's eyes widened with what looked like disbelief, shock and also fear?

"N-No... no... you can't love me, you shouldn't love me...!"

He says, his voice breaking midway through his declaration.

"Why not?"

You respond. You're nothing but confused right now, you've never seen him like this before. Diluc was a calm and rational man to you, so you'd never seen him like this before.

"Because!”

He shouts, standing up from the couch forcefully. He turns away from you, walking towards the tightly covered window.

"I'm nothing but a monster! You should love someone better than me!"

"Diluc, why are you talking about..!?"

Almost as if to answer your question, he pulls the curtains apart, the tight bindings on them tearing from his abnormal strength. The sun pours into the already dimly lit room.

Diluc winces, resisting the urge to cover his face. He groans in pain and turns around to face you.

Your heart drops at the sight of him. The way his pale skin now glows and crackles from the sunlight, burning his skin.

"He's burning, he's in pain!"

You quickly leap from your seat, pulling the blanket that was draped onto the couch with you. You throw the blanket over his head, shielding him from the sun's piercing light.

Diluc's eyes widen with shock as you pull him away from the window and pull the curtains back to block the sunlight.

You look afraid and worried, as you frantically pace around the room looking for something that's unknown to him. After a few minutes of you tearing through his cabinets, you finally find what you're looking for

A roll of bandages.

You desperately cover the skin that's been burnt with the bandages. Diluc takes note of how heavy you're breathing, how you're almost hyperventilating.

Once you've covered the burns on his face, you search the other uncovered parts of his body for any more injuries. And Diluc finally hears your voice breaking the uncomfortable silence that had formed.

"Why the fuck would you do that...!?"

You try to sound angry, but your voice immediately shakes and falters, turning your tone of voice into a more desperate one.

Diluc begins to feel guilty, hearing the pain in your voice hurts him more than those burns did.

You raise your head to look at him in the eyes, opening your mouth to spit more words at him.

"Why would you hurt yourself like this...!?!?"

You choke on those words, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks at a rapid pace. The sight of you so distraught makes Diluc's barely beating heart ache immensely.

"I..."

Diluc struggles to get what he wants to say out.

"I didn't want to love you, in case I'd hurt you..."

He looks away from you, too ashamed to keep eye contact.

"Do you not see how much this hurts me though!?"

You reply, gritting your teeth.

"I don't care that you're not a human like me! I still love you, and nothing is going to change that!!"

More tears fall down your cheeks, some even hitting and sliding down his own face.

Diluc hesitantly reaches a hand up, pressing his gloved hand against the back of your head and pushing it forward so that your forehead rests against his.

"I'm sorry."

He apologises, being finally able to look you in the eyes again. He's sincere in his words.

You sniffle, closing your eyes and placing your hands on his shoulders. You don't respond to his apology, but he can tell that you've already forgiven him.

Diluc smiles and closes his eyes too, not deciding to start any more conversations, and leaving the two of you to calm in silence.

DAINSLEIF: (1424 words)

•When Khaenri'ah fell, Dainsleif was cursed with both immortality and vampirism. The immortality came with becoming a vampire.

•So he decided to travel Teyvat alone, so as to not let anyone know about his inhumanity.

•At first, Dainsleif struggled with being a vampire. He could only be on the move when the sun was down, but it wasn't like he could get very far with how sluggish he was from repressing his blood cravings.

•Eventually, he managed to figure things out. Every once in a while he'd feed on some poor drunkard walking home in the middle of the night. And he managed to construct a ring that made him immune to the sunlight, meaning he could now travel by day as well.

•The 500 years he's spent travelling alone were incredibly lonely for him. Because he didn't want anyone to know that he was a vampire, he isolated himself from civilisation, only occasionally stepping into the cities to get a drink at a tavern or to buy something he needed.

•He lived completely alone for five centuries, until you came along.

•Dainsleif had spotted you, another traveller, trying your best to fight some slimes that had been attacking you, but you weren't really doing a good job. So, he stepped in to help you out. He planned to just slay the slimes, make sure you were okay, and be on his merry way once again.

•But you had completely ruined his plans, chasing after him as he tried to walk away from you, saying that you'd pay him back with a meal at a nearby restaurant or a drink from one of the taverns he'd been to a few times.

•No matter how many times he'd try to let you down gently, you just kept going, insisting that because he saved your life that you should repay him.

•Once Dainsleif finally came to terms with the fact that you weren't going to let up, he sighed and agreed to your offer (demand)

•So you took him to a tavern for a meal and a few drinks. By the end of it, you were completely drunk and he was still completely sober.

•Regular human food and alcohol don't do much to his system. It wasn't like his body rejected them, but he would never become drunk even if he drank a sea of booze, and he would never become full off of just meats and vegetables.

•Much to Dainsleif's annoyance, he ended up carrying you back to his campsite to let you sleep there. He made sure to keep watch the entire night just in case.

•When you woke up, the first thing you saw through a bleary gaze was a pint of water being held out to you by Dainsleif. He scolded you for drinking too much last night and forced you to drink the water to lessen your hangover.

•And since then, you've somehow become a pest in his side. You both travelled around Teyvat together, soothing Dainsleif's centuries-long loneliness.

•Though, having a human companion by his side wasn't easy for Dainsleif. Especially if he was due for another feeding.

The crackling fire illuminated the campsite that had been darkened by the evening sky. The entrancing flames distracted you as Dainsleif tried his best to calm himself down in your shared tent.

He was due for another feeding, and the smell of your blood was driving him crazy. He was trying his best to hold back on his desperate cravings until you slept, so he could drink from another bumbling drunkard roaming the paths.

But it was getting increasingly harder and harder to hold himself back as the minutes passed by.

Dainsleif refused to drink from you. He didn't want to harm or scare you away. Overtime, he'd come to actually enjoy your company. Driving you away with his monstrous tendencies is the last thing he wants, especially after being alone for far too long.

"Dainsleif?"

Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see you, placing a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even realised you'd moved away from the fire to come to his side.

"Are you alright? You look awfully pale..."

Awfully pale was just how he always looked, though he was probably as white as a ghost by now from how badly he needed to feed.

"I-It's nothing..."

Dainsleif utters with a surprisingly weak voice. He averts his eyes away from you, feeling embarrassed that you have to see him so weak.

"Are you sure? I think you may be ill..."

You respond, holding his chin to keep his head in place while you studied his features for any signs of illness.

Dainsleif's breath became ragged at how close you were to him. He was using all of his self control to not just pounce on you and drink straight from your neck.

In your eyes, you had just thought that he was refusing help because he didn't want to seem weak around you. Though the issue was much bigger than that.

"P-Please, I'm fine..."

He breathes out. He does not look fine in the slightest.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, starting to become annoyed at how he's pushing you away.

"You don't have to pretend, Dain. I can tell something's wrong, you can tell me y’know."

Dainsleif swallows. He wants to resist, to run away and return to you while you're asleep and he's finally been fed. But he cannot.

"H-How much do you know about... inhuman creatures...?"

He finally asks with his voice and breath shaking.

"Hmm... like slimes? Have you been poisoned by one or something?—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that..." He cuts you off, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "I-I meant creatures who appear to be human... but they aren't..."

You think for a few moments, thinking back to all the books you read before you decided to set off on your journey across all of Teyvat. After a few minutes of thinking, you manage to come to a conclusion.

"Like a vampire or something?"

"Yes... a vampire..."

"What about them?"

Dainsleif doesn't even find the energy to tell you. He simply just opens his mouth a little to show off his sharp fangs in his teeth that replaced his canines.

Your eyes widen. You're surprised, and even a little bit scared, but you know Dainsleif won't hurt you.

Not hurting you is what got him to this state in the first place, isn't it?

"Are you hungry?"

You ask him, and he weakly nods in response.

You take a deep breath before undoing the top button on your shirt, pulling your collar down enough to fully expose your neck. You hold his chin against and force him to look up at you.

"Drink from me." You say, and Dainsleif's eyes widen.

"B-But—"

"I don't want to hear it. I know you won't hurt me, so just drink already.”

A bit of anxiety goes through your mind, wanting to back out. But you'd rather be in pain than have your closest companion die of starvation when you could've prevented it.

Dainsleif hesitantly pulls you close to him, pressing his mouth against the side of your neck. He places small kisses on the warm skin, whispering out a bunch of "Thank you's" as he prepares himself to drink from you for the first time.

Right before he drinks from you, he whispers a small "I'm sorry," before taking a bite.

At first, it hurts. Your nails dig into Dainsleif's shoulders as he feeds from you. His thumbs draw comforting circles on your back to try and soothe you.

When the pain finally subsides, it actually starts to feel a little good. You let out a mix between a sigh and a moan as your nails stop digging into his shoulders and instead grip at his shirt.

Once he finishes drinking from you, he licks and kisses the spot he bit into, lapping up any blood that's spilled out from your neck.

The experience left you completely exhausted. You rested your head on Dainsleif's shoulder as he grabbed the first aid kit from your bag, pulling out a small bandaid to put over the bite.

When he's done patching you up, he lays you down gently onto your mat, pulling up the small blanket you had. His gloved hand brushes the hair sticking to your forehead away, and he plants his lips there in a gentle kiss.

"Sleep well..."

He whispers, before your vision fades to black.

DAN HENG: (1137 words)

•Unlike the other two, Dan Heng was actually born as a vampire. Though he's never met his parents before.

•Vampires like him age super slowly. So he's got another few centuries on his belt until he becomes weak enough to die or be killed easily.

•Instead of hiding himself away though, he works as a librarian in a public library.

•While he's very quiet and hard to communicate with, he is actually a very good worker (he plans to go down with the library if that ever happens)

•Nobody actually knows he's a vampire, not even his boss or his coworkers. While his previous bosses had noticed that he barely seemed to age as the years went by, they always felt too intimidated by his quiet and stoic nature to ask him about it.

•Dan Heng, like Dainsleif, also has a daylight ring. Though this is just something he's had with him for as long as he can remember.

•You show up for the first time in his life when you're hired to work in the library with him.

•Unfortunately for him, you just happened to want to strike up a conversation every time you saw him. His boss must've noticed this, because suddenly, majority of your shifts aligned right with his.

•Dan Heng is a bit annoyed that his nice peace and quiet is now being interrupted by you. But he's not a bad guy, so he's not going to get mad at you and push you away or make you feel horrible because of it.

•So, after a bit of trying to get him to talk to you, he caves and replies to you.

•And that started your friendship with him.

•You two remained as good friends for a while. It was until Dan Heng realised that he had started to fall for you that he started to push you away without even realising it.

•He felt bad for falling for you. He felt bad that he'd live on for centuries, while you only had a few decades. It made him feel guilty thinking of how you'd grow old and he'd technically not even be 30 yet.

•So, he started slipping informative books about vampires into your piles of books that you were going to borrow. He didn't know how to tell you outright the truth, so he hoped that this would get his message across.

•It did not.

Dan Heng notices you sigh while you're looking through your stack of books that you had left to the side unattended for only a few minutes. He watches you walk over to him and place the book he had slipped into your pile in front of him on the desk.

"Can you put this back in its original spot?" You sigh again, tapping on the hardcover with your nails.

Dan Heng picks up the book. "Are you not a fan of vampire books?" He asks bluntly, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"It's not that." You reply "They just keep showing up with the books I want to borrow even though. I don't put them there... do you think we're being haunted by a vampire or something?"

Dan Heng shakes his head. "Don't be absurd. Ghosts are the ones that haunt, not vampires."

"Oh? Sounds like you know a lot about vampires. Perhaps you're the one slipping these into my pile behind my back?"

You notice the way Dan Heng's eyes practically pop out of his head with how surprised he looks. It was an odd expression for him.

"Hey, you don't have to look so surprised, I was joking—"

"You're right."

Now you're the one who's surprised, though not to the same extent as he was just merely a few seconds ago.

Dan Heng sighs. "Can we go somewhere private? I have something to tell you."

You nod your head and follow him. The both of you are silent as you walk to a secluded spot in a corner of the library. When you both stop walking, Dan Heng turns to face you with a guilty expression on his face.

"I have two things to tell you..."

He begins, taking a deep breath before looking straight into your curious eyes.

"I have... fallen for you."

A cute red blush appears on his cheeks, and with the way yours had started to burn, you probably looked the exact same as him.

"But... I cannot be with you."

That immediately makes you confused. Your heart starts to pound harder.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

You stutter, your voice raising in a pitch a little too high when you emphasise your question.

Dan Heng sighs again, rubbing his shoulder awkwardly.

"The reason I've been slipping books about vampires into your pile is... well... because I am a vampire."

You cannot tell if you're being played right now.

"...Are you serious?"

"Yes."

With the way Dan Heng continues to look straight into your eyes without faltering makes you believe him more. But you have no reason to not believe him anyway, after all, Dan Heng was a serious person, so what would he get out of lying to you like this?

"So... how does that play into you loving me?"

Dan Heng bites his lip, fiddling with the ring he always wore to calm his anxieties down.

"I'm practically immortal. If we ever end up together in the future, you'll die way before I even reach the age you died at..."

It seems his anxieties only worsened as he explained the reason to you. That thought hadn't crossed your mind, but you understand why he looked so guilty and distressed over it.

You exhale, taking a step closer to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you, wondering what you're planning to do.

"I'm sure we can work something out when that inevitably comes around. For now, why don't we just enjoy ourselves without worrying about the future?"

You smile warmly, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.

Dan Heng doesn't respond for a second, but he finally nods to your statement.

"Alright, let's do that."

He grabs the wrist of your hand that's touching his face, moving it away and intertwining his fingers with you, giving you a small reassuring squeeze.

Dan Heng looks at you and smiles for the first time during your whole conversation. Your heart flutters at the sight of it, and you can't help but lean in and kiss it.

Dan Heng's eyes widen again when you pull away, and you immediately regret doing that.

"I-I'm sorry! I should've asked for permission first!"

"N-No... it's fine."

Dan Heng touches his lips, the blush on his face growing.

"...Can I kiss you again then?"

You ask shyly, playing with his fingers in your linked hands.

"Yes, you may."

And that's exactly what you do.

503 notes · View notes

fairyysoup · 5 months

Text

it will come back

part one

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.

cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)

a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.

In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.

Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month.

There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.

Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.

(You don’t believe that, either.)

You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.

You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust.

You usually do what you’re told. Usually.

On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.

You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors.

Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.

It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.

And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.

You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.

It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body.

You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt.

The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.”

You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.

“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. “Are you hurt?”

The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness.

“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”

The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.

“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.”

Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.

You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg.

“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin.

You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry.

You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”

As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.

You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.

“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding.

You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.

“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement.

“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it.

You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.

“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”

The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved.

You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.

You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.

In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.

By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.

You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night.

But you know it to be true. You know it.

How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it.

Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.

“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!”

You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!”

You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think.

There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house.

One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served.

Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers.

You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby.

“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh.

“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.

You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.

“Um,” is all you can say.

“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.

His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.

“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance.

“Who are you?”

“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.”

“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?”

“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”

“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.

He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”

You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”

“Thereabouts.”

You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”

You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.”

“Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?”

You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.

The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.

“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.

You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”

“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.”

“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?”

“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.”

“That’s forward of you.”

“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?”

You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.

“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…”

“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”

“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”

Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”

You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”

“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”

You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”

You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of.

You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them.

“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”

“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”

“A dream?” you echo with a scoff.

“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”

You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”

“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”

You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast.

Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him.

“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.

“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”

You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside.

Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice.

#teaser for what's coming. if you even care #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #werewolf!eddie munson #werewolf!eddie munson x reader #stranger things #werewolf!eddie #roses*

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stil-lindigo · 1 year

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Comics Masterpost (organised by collection)

Please heed relevant content warnings on each post. Completed collections have physical and digital copies available for purchase on my store.

Soliloquy Down to Three [COMPLETED]

Soliloquy down to Three is an anthology of dark sapphic comics, all of which are a mix of both old and new inspiration. Its title is a line from 'craters', indicating that the phrase "I love you" manages to fit a whole monologue worth of feeling into three words.

The compiled version contains exclusive illustrations for each couple, as well as a secret ending to 'craters'.

1. fishing twine 2. hook, line and sinker (sequel to 'fishing twine) cw: suggestive imagery 3. RED cw: suggestive imagery, blood, murder with an axe 4. RED - epilogue cw: blood 5. patchwork canary cw: mouth + neck mutilation, blood 6. craters cw: implications of suicide

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

10PM [COMPLETED]

10pm is a collection of introspective comics that covers feelings of aimlessness, alienation and finding joy in creativity again. Its full title is "It's 10pm. Do you know who you are?" which is a twist on the old PSAs that used to play on American TVs reminding parents to check up on their children.

1. the parade

2. the elevator

3. the machine

4. the candle

5. the stone

6. the dredger

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

Hearteaters [COMPLETED]

Heart-eaters is an anthology about the ugliest, gory-est, most heartfelt and most brutal parts of love. Sitting at a whopping 180 pages, Heart-eaters is the longest anthology I've made yet, and took over a year to finish in full.

The compiled books available for purchase on my store contain an exclusive joint-comic to "Shallow Grave" and poem named "Laozi's bowl", as well as 9 original full-page art splashes unique to their assigned stories.

1. the sunset cw: gun violence, death, blood 2. the calamity cw: eye scarring, blood, eye mutilation, gore (minimal) 3. seeing clearer (epilogue to 'the calamity') cw: biblical references 4. shallow grave cw: gravestone imagery 5. bite of winter (joint comic to 'scorched earth') cw: gore, blood, death, cannibalism, dismemberment 6. scorched earth (joint comic to 'bite of winter') cw: blood, death, burning alive, beheading 7. ashes to ashes (prequel comic to 'scorched earth') 8. little dove (prequel comic to 'scorched earth') 9. warmth 10. the fox god cw: emotional manipulation, animal abuse 11. the fields cw: blood, animal death, mild gore and blood

#took me far too long to make a post like this if im being honest #i hope this makes it easier for you all to find my stuff in the future #and ill update this as i go #thank you for your support #and as always #thank you for reading #sapphic art #comic art #queer art #stillindigo art #soliloquy down to three #its 10pm #hearteaters

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kai-uh-arcadian · 1 month

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I feel like I know you

synopsis: you relentlessly have dreams of a woman you can never remember the moment you wake up

cw: soulmate! AU, angsty-(?), minor cursing, briefly suggestive, alcohol, brief mentions of death/killing

word count: 7.5K

notes! hi hi (: it’s lowkey inspired by the movie ‘Your Name’ but with Tzuyu! (obv) Italics indicate dreams/other timelines. I really enjoyed writing this— although I’m inexperienced I hope you enjoy! Let me know how you feel about it or if you’d just like to chat! Love youuu (:

You were at the bookstore when you first heard it.

Bells.

Clear and unmistakable, the sound cut through the quiet hum of the store. It was as if the world paused for a moment, just long enough for the chime to echo between you both.

You were walking through the narrow aisle, lost in thought, when your shoulder brushed against hers. The contact was brief, almost incidental, but the timing was perfect—right as the bell rang. Both of you stopped, caught off guard, and turned to face each other. Her eyes were wide with the same bewilderment you felt. For a split second, it was as if the world shrank to just the two of you, suspended in that peculiar moment.

“Oh-! I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath– trying to assuage the awkwardness that was in the air. She nodded, offering a small smile before you both continued on your way, the moment slipping into the background like a passing breeze.

You finished your browsing, paid for your book, and headed back to your studio apartment. The familiar warmth of home welcomed you along with your dog Bread as he was wagging his tail. You set the book down on the table, patted Bread’s head, and moved through the motions of your evening routine—making dinner, washing the dishes, tidying up and showering.

Finally, as the day wound down, you climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Your thoughts drifted to the beautiful woman in the bookstore, the sound of the bell, and the strange sense that something had shifted. You decided to shrug it off as a coincidence as maybe someone had opened the door at the exact moment you two brushed against each other(but you swore you only heard it in your head, not from your ears.)

But sleep came quickly, pulling you into its embrace before you could dwell on it any longer.

That’s when it began.

The dreams.

You’ve always had vivid dreams, the kind that feel more like memories than figments of your imagination. But this was different. The clarity, the intensity—it was as though you were slipping into another world entirely.Truly blurring the line between reality and fantasy.

“Jagiya~, let’s go up there! That spot looks perfect!” The voice was ethereal, almost musical, as she led you up a lush, green hill, a wicker picnic basket swinging gently in her free hand.

“Yeah! That’s perfect!” you replied, your voice bright with excitement. But even as the words left your lips, it felt odd—as if you were watching a scene play out from a distant memory, detached yet present. Like you were both an actor and observer, following along as if it were scripted, yet not fully in control.

The strangeness lingered.

You were fully conscious, intensely aware of everything around you: the warmth of the sun on your face, the way it cast a golden hue across the landscape; the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, brushing against your skin like a gentle caress; the intoxicating scent her rose perfume that drifted through the air, delicate and familiar, stirring something deep within you.

“When I used to get homesick, I would come here and make all the same snacks my mom used to make for me when she would take me out for a picnic” her voice entranced you like she was a siren. God.. Her laugh was even more enthralling, “She even let me bring TWO of my stuffed animals to join us” she chuckled

“I haven’t been here in a while though..” she trailed off as if she had more to say but waited for your response.

“Hm~? Why not jagi?” genuine curiosity evident in your voice

Who was this woman? A part of your mind questioned her identity, her presence—so familiar yet unplaceable. The other part of you was overwhelmed by an inexplicable sense of love and happiness, as if every fiber of your being recognized her, longed for her. Your soul knew her.

You could only see her back as she walked ahead—her hair was black and cascaded down her back in soft waves, her frame slender and elegant, her height slightly above average. She moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, her steps light and purposeful as if this hill was a sacred place, meant just for the two of you.

You reached the top of the hill, the world stretching out before you like a painted masterpiece. The woman paused, her back still to you, and you felt your heart quicken. She began to turn, slowly, as if in a movie, and you knew—knew with every part of you—that seeing her face would change everything.

“Well.. Because you’re my home now, y/n”

But just as your eyes were about to meet hers—

You woke up.

The dream slipped away like sand through your fingers, leaving you with a lingering sense of longing, of something lost and yet to be found. Your heart raced as you lay there, the vividness of the experience etched into your mind, leaving you questioning whether it was just a dream or something more—a memory, or perhaps, of a life you couldn’t quite remember.

These dreams persisted for weeks, each one more vivid and consuming than the last. Pages and pages of your journal were filled with each dream with the mysterious woman. You also sketched whatever details of her world you could recall—an outdoor market while she browsed records, a side view of her looking at a bouquet of flowers, and a pair of small dogs, one dark, one light.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried, her face remained elusive. It was always blurred, or worse, you would wake up the moment you were about to see it. The frustration gnawed at you, driving you to spend more time with your journal, hoping that somehow, the next dream would reveal more pieces to complete this impossible puzzle.

After scribbling whatever details you could remember, you sighed, setting your pencil down. You cleaned yourself up, fed Bread, and sent some money to your loyal dog sitter (and neighbor!) Momo.

With Bread content and your mind somewhat at ease, you began to organize your things for work. Once everything was in order, you decided to head to your favorite café, Park’s Perk.

The morning air was crisp as you made your way down the familiar street. As you entered the café, the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted you, and you spotted your friend from college, Jihyo, preparing for the day ahead.

“Jihyo-unnie, you don’t understand these dreams I’ve been having!” you whined, trailing after her as she moved from table to table, wiping them down in preparation for opening.

She paused, glancing at you with a mix of concern and amusement. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but I can imagine how crazy it must be to experience them. Maybe it’s— Hi, welcome in!”

She was interrupted by the bell above the door jingling as another customer entered. You let out a sigh, flopping down into your usual seat by the window. “ Ugh~ It’s like every time I’m about to see her face, something pulls me out of the dream. I just can’t shake the feeling that she’s important, you know?”

Jihyo finished wiping down the last table and came over to join you, setting a steaming cup of your favorite brew in front of you. You said a quick ‘thank-you’ before she continued “You know, the subconscious mind is weird. Maybe it could be connecting you to a past life or maybe it’s just showing you the type of life you want to live with someone. Did you have a dream last night?”

You took a sip of the coffee before explaining, “Yeah we were..”

You rummaged through the cupboards of your home, carefully selecting your and your wife’s favorite tea cups. They were delicate, with hand-painted patterns you had both made at a pottery class you two took as a date. You gently scooped the tea leaves into the kettle, breathing in the familiar, calming scent as the steam rose. The boiling water poured into the kettle with a soft hiss, and you set it aside to steep

As you moved about the kitchen, you heard your wife’s footsteps in the hallway, the soft padding of her feet growing fainter as she entered the living room. A moment later, the gentle, melodic sound of the guzheng filled the air, the music wrapping around you like a warm embrace. It was a tune she often played, one that had become so familiar that you catch yourself humming it from time to time.

With the tea now steeped, you carefully carried the two cups and the kettle into the living room. Your wife was seated at the low table, her fingers gracefully plucking at the strings of the guzheng, lost in the flow of the music. You placed one of the cups near her, the delicate clink of porcelain barely interrupting her concentration. Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, and she giggled in response, her fingers briefly faltering on the strings.

“Is Xinyi asleep?” you asked as you began to pour the tea into her cup, the warm liquid swirling gently.

“Yes, it was easy today,” she replied, her voice filled with warmth. “She had so much fun at the park… You’re such a good mom.” She chuckled, reminiscing about the joy on your daughter’s face just a few hours ago.

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection as you hugged her from behind, your arms wrapping around her gently as she knelt at the table. You placed a tender kiss on the nape of her neck, and you felt her shiver in response, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “You’re an even better mom,” you whispered, “and the best wife.”

She leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against yours as she murmured a contented “Mm~” before her focus shifted back to the instrument. You released her, making your way to the couch and sinking into its familiar comfort. You rested your head on the armrest, watching her play, the music filling the room with a sense of peace and belonging.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you said, your voice low and filled with emotion. You smiled, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as the music lulled you into a state of deep relaxation. The sound of her playing, her voice humming along, was like a lullaby, soothing and familiar.

When you opened your eyes, everything had changed. The cozy living room with its warm lighting and familiar comforts was gone. Instead, you found yourself lying on a tiny twin mattress in a college dorm, facing a woman whose face was blurry. You could see her black hair cascading over the pillow, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

Despite the shift in surroundings, you felt an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. The comforter was pulled up to your chins, but you knew that you were both naked beneath the sheets. You reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Your heart was doing flips–you swore she must’ve heard because she spoke up!

“Mm~ what’s your happiest memory?” she purred, her voice soft as she nuzzled into your hand, her smile evident even with her eyes still closed.

“My happiest memory?” you repeated, considering the out-of-the-blue question. Your hand gently caressed her chin with your thumb as you thought. “I think… I think it’s happening right now.”

She chuckled softly, and the sound was like music to your ears. “Is it because we just fucked?” she teased, playfully slapping your chest. The outlandish accusation made you laugh in disbelief

“No~!” you huffed, trying to keep a straight face, though you couldn’t quite hide your smile. “I’m just so in love with you,” you confessed, pulling her closer onto your bare chest. Your arms wrapped around her, holding her securely as she instinctively nuzzled closer, seeking to melt into you.

“Every moment with you is my favorite memory… It’s…” You paused, searching for the right words to convey the depth of your feelings. “It’s pure bliss,” you finally said, your voice barely more than a whisper as you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Wow…” Jihyo sat there, momentarily speechless. Her wide eyes reflected a mix of disbelief and curiosity. “That was your dream?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, leaning forward in your seat. “It was like a dream within a dream. I could feel everything so vividly, and it hurt so much when I woke up, like I’d lost something real.”

Jihyo shook her head in amazement, taking in your words. “No, yeah, that’s crazy! I can barely remember my dreams, and if I do, they’re nothing like that—half the time they don’t even make sense,” she said with a laugh.

You chuckled along, feeling the tension ease as the conversation shifted to lighter topics. The two of you finished your coffee, chatting about the latest gossip, upcoming events at the café, and Jihyo’s plans for the weekend. It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of the conversation.

As you were wrapping up your conversation, Jihyo suddenly glanced at her phone, her eyes widening slightly. “Hey, y/n-ah, don’t you have work soon?” she asked, tilting her head to the side with a playful smirk.

“Oh shit!” you blurted out, quickly checking your watch. Time had slipped away from you in the café. You jumped up from your seat, fumbling for your wallet. After handing Jihyo some money (with a little extra for the excellent company), you grabbed your briefcase and semi-shouted a quick, “Thank you!” to both Jihyo and Dahyun, who was working at the cash register with a knowing smile.

You made your hurried escape, the sound of the café’s lively chatter fading behind you. As you rushed toward the door, you slid past another customer entering the café. Just as you brushed by, bells rang out.

Something about the sound made you pause. You turned your head briefly to glance at the person you had just rushed by, catching a glimpse of her dark hair as she hesitated for a moment, then continued into the café.

“Hi, welcome in!” you heard Dahyun greet her warmly, her voice muffled by the distance.

But you were already moving again, lightly jogging away in a desperate attempt to make it to work on time. Yet, as you hurried down the street, something nagged at the back of your mind. The bells you’d just heard—those weren’t the usual café bells. They had a different tone, a different resonance, almost like the bells you had heard somewhere… before.

You shook your head, trying to focus on the task at hand. There was no time to dwell on it now.

You finished work a bit earlier than usual, it was a rare occurrence. Leaning back in your chair, you loosened your tie, allowing yourself a deep, weary sigh. Between meeting with patients, sending medication forms for approval, and still being in school to pursue your doctorate, free time was a luxury you barely enjoyed. But today, you decided to treat yourself.

You scrolled through a delivery app, finally settling on your favorite dishes. As you added items to the cart, you thought of Momo. She was probably still at your place, taking care of Bread, and you were sure she wouldn't expect you back so early. You added a few of her favorite items to the order

You trudged home with bags of food in hand, you felt the weight of the day slowly lift off your shoulders. The familiarity of home was just what you needed. Finally reaching your apartment, you nudged the door open with your foot.

“I’m home~” you called out, your voice echoing through the hallway. “Momo, I brought food,” you added, setting the takeout bags on the kitchen counter before kicking off your shoes.

Momo’s teasing voice rang out from the living room, “Home early? You get laid off or something?”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you unpacked the food. “Hey, if I get laid off, then you suffer too, Miss Dogsitter,” you shot back with a grin. “Well, whatever, I brought you jokbal.”

Her eyes doubled in size as she peeked into the bags. “You’re the best boss ever,” she declared, her excitement evident as she started unpacking the food.

You knelt down to the ground, your heart warming as Bread hopped over to you, his tail wagging so furiously you were surprised it didn’t fly off. “Hi, baby~~!” you cooed, scratching behind his ears as he licked your face in greeting.

Momo, already impatiently digging into the food, glanced over at you. “You okay? How was work? You kinda look like shit,” she remarked, her voice muffled by a mouthful of food.

“Oh, wow thanks,” you replied, giving her a gentle nudge. “But yeah, I’m good. Just a bit mentally exhausted. I can’t seem to get a good night’s sleep lately.” You sighed, walking over to your living room and settling onto the couch with your food. “Work was fine, though. I actually finished up a bit early, which is why I was able to grab this before the place closed.”

Momo plopped down beside you, still chewing. “Oh! I bought you some beer and soju,” she said, swallowing her food. “I know you’ve been having those dreams, and I heard alcohol affects your REM cycle. Maybe it’ll stop the dreams? It’s not—or shouldn’t be—a permanent fix, but I thought maybe tonight you could use a break and get some better sleep.” She smiled at you, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

You paused, considering her suggestion. “Ah~ that’s not too bad of an idea. It is Friday, after all, so maybe I should try that tonight,” you agreed, digging into your samgyupsal.

After you two finished eating, Momo insisted on cleaning up while you headed to the shower. The hot water cascaded over you, washing away the stress of the day. When you emerged, the scent of food was replaced by the faint aroma of soju and beer. Momo had laid out an impressive selection on the table, and you couldn’t help but smile at her thoughtfulness.

You threw on a hoodie and joined Momo on the couch. She’d put on a random K-drama. The two of you chatted about anything and everything, the conversation flowing easily as the alcohol took the edge off. By the end of the night, you were both pretty drunk, laughter filling the small apartment as you reminisced about old memories and whatever the hell was on your mind.

When the hour grew late, Momo helped you into a makeshift couch bed, tucking you in. “Alright, get some sleep,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll be right next door if you need anything.”

You mumbled a sleepy ‘thank you’ as she quietly let herself out, heading to her apartment just next door. The room felt warm and cozy, the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your veins as you drifted off, thinking that maybe tonight, you’d finally get a peaceful night’s sleep. Momo had said that alcohol could affect your REM sleep, meaning you wouldn’t dream—or at least, you wouldn’t remember your dreams. Right? It sounded like exactly what you needed. No more strange visions, no more waking up with a sense of longing. Just sleep. Right!?

But you were wrong.

Out of all the dreams you’d had, this one stood out the most.

Feudal Japan, Taisho Era

For as long as you could remember, your life had been defined by a single purpose: to protect the princess of Japan. These were the direct orders given to you by Lord Chou, the man who had rescued you from the wreckage of your past.

You were just a child, barely five years old, when Lord Chou found you. Cowered in a corner, knees drawn to your chest, you wept as your parents' lifeless bodies lay before you. Raiders had slaughtered them, leaving you orphaned and alone. Lord Chou, who had killed the raiders, initially intended to leave you there, a mere child of poor merchants with no future to speak of. But then, something caught his eye—a samurai sword lying beside your father’s body.

With a furrowed brow, he studied you for a moment before speaking the first words that would change your life forever: “From now on, you will be my daughter’s protector. Dedicate your life to her.”

And so you did. From that moment on, every breath you took was in service to those five words. You trained relentlessly, honing your skills until you were one of the finest samurai in all of Japan, sworn to protect Princess Chou with your life.

It was the night before a raid, and the atmosphere in the camp was thick with tension. You and your fellow samurai had been informed that you were outnumbered, 80 samurai against an entire army. Death was not just probable; it was certain. But you were not afraid. This was the life you had signed up for, a life that had been gifted to you as a second chance.

You knew what you had to do. But before the sun rose and the battle began, there was one person you needed to see—one person you had to say goodbye to.

The guards at the palace entrance let you in without question; it was not unusual for you to visit the princess at odd hours, checking in on her safety. Tonight, though, was different. As you approached her quarters, dressed in a simple yogi, you felt the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“Chou-sama, may I come in?” you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” came the familiar voice from beyond the tatami door. The soft glow of an oil lamp illuminated the silhouette of the princess, her figure graceful and serene.

You slid the door open, revealing the princess still adorned in her elegant jūnihitoe from today’s farewell ceremony, a sight that made your heart ache with unspoken emotion. She looked up at you with a polite smile, though her eyes held a hint of curiosity.

“Hello, Chou-sama. I apologize for the late meeting,” you said, bowing deeply, your forehead nearly touching the floor.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile gentle. “Do you need anything, y/n-san? It’s quite late.”

“Again, I apologize for the intrusion,” you began, sitting up from your bow. “I am aware of the hour, but I wanted to say goodbye. I leave at daybreak, and I fear this may be our last time speaking.”

Her face softened, her eyes widening in shock. You had known Princess Chou since you were children, she was always a bubbly and mischievous spirit. (you would usually always take the blame for her.. Unless of course they caught her red-handed) But about 5 years ago when she turned 13, the weight of her responsibilities had turned her serious, her carefree demeanor replaced by a stoicness that rarely broke.

“I see...” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, Princess, that is all I wished to say. Thank you for allowing me to be by your side all these years. I owe my life to you and your family,” you said, bowing once more as you prepared to take your leave.

“Tzuyu,” she suddenly announced.

You paused, sitting back on your heels as you looked at her in confusion.

“My name is Tzuyu,” she repeated. “Please, call me that.”

In all the 13 years you had served her, you had never known her first name. It was not unusual, given your status as a samurai, once a mere peasant. “It’s a beautiful name... Tzuyu,” you said, the name foreign on your tongue as it seemed disrespectful.

Her tone sharpened, though not unkindly. “Are those your final words to me? Or is there more you wish to say?”

She had always been perceptive, reading your body language and the emotions you struggled to conceal. Your heart ached with the weight of everything you had left unsaid, and your eyes flashed with a sadness you could no longer hide.

“Go on, tell me,” she urged, her gaze softening as the stoic mask she wore began to crumble.

Taking a deep breath, you met her eyes. “You gave me a reason to live, a purpose that has defined my existence. I have gladly dedicated my life to you, which is why I am honoured to die for you. From the moment we met, I was prepared to sacrifice my life for yours. But while I am unafraid to face death, I am terrified of leaving you behind. You are the only person I have final words for, the most important person in my otherwise meaningless life.”

Her expression remained composed, but you could see the glossiness in her eyes as she listened to your words. “I could speak to my father,” she bargained, her voice monotone. “If you die, who will be my protector?”

“Cho-.. Tzuyu... this is something I must do. It is my duty, the vow I made to your father. I cannot dishonour that promise,” you replied, your heart sinking as the reality of the situation settled in.

“I see,” she said, though her tone betrayed the emotions she struggled to suppress.

“Promise me that you’ll come back alive?” She whispered looking at the tatami mat below her

“I promise I will fight until my last breath to return to you” You said trying to assuage her worries, knowing that survival was futile. She caught it too.

A heavy silence fell between you, both of you lost in thought, searching for the right words to say.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” she asked suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.

“Yes... I believe I do,” you answered, surprised by the sudden question.

“Then promise me that you will find me in the next life. Promise me that you’ll never leave my side, that we’ll live as normal civilians, free from war,” she said, her voice quivering with vulnerability.

For a moment, the room was silent, her request hanging in the air. Finally, you nodded, your voice steady as you replied, “Yes, Tzuyu, I promise. A life where war does not exist, where you need no protection, and I can live peacefully by your side.”

Tears began to spill down her cheeks, the facade of the princess melting away to reveal the woman beneath. The woman you have loved for years. The woman that you’ll love in each lifetime–each timeline. “Kiss me, please. That is an order,” she whispered desperately as her voice broke.

You got up and you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, a culmination of years of unspoken feelings. That night, your bodies blended into one, a final act of love and devotion before the sun would separate you forever.

The clang of steel echoed around you as you fought relentlessly on the battlefield. Your sword clashed with that of an opposing soldier, your movements swift and precise. With a final thrust, you ended his life, but before you could even take a breath, a sharp pain shot through your back, spreading to your chest.

An arrow.

You gritted your teeth, trying to focus through the searing pain, but another arrow followed. Then another. And another. And another. Four in total, each one piercing through your back and exiting through your chest.

Cowards.

You staggered, blood seeping through your armor, staining the ground beneath you. With every step, your vision blurred, but you kept moving, refusing to fall. The weight of your promise to Tzuyu was the only thing keeping you on your feet. But your body could only endure so much, and eventually, it gave out. You collapsed harshly onto the ground, the earth cool against your burning skin.

As you lay there, the world around you seemed to fade away. The sounds of battle grew distant, and all you could think of was her.

Tzuyu.

Her name was a chant in your mind, a desperate plea that echoed in the void of your fading consciousness.

Tzuyu.

You had promised her, but now you were dying, unable to keep your word. The regret was a weight heavier than any armor, crushing your spirit even as your body lay broken.

Tzuyu...

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t return.

The darkness began to close in, your vision narrowing to a single point before it, too, disappeared. The battlefield, the pain, the regret—all of it vanished into nothingness.

And then, with a jolt, you woke up.

Instead of waking up in your bed,

You woke up on a sandy shore, face down, the gritty texture of the sand pressing against your skin. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jolted awake, not a single ounce of pain surging through your body. Confusion clouded your mind as you pushed yourself up, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

The sea whispered softly against the shore, its rhythm almost hypnotic, but your focus quickly shifted to the figure standing not too far from where you had been laying. It was a woman. She was sitting while watching the waves, her long, dark hair swaying gently in the breeze. Something about her presence felt achingly familiar.

You got to your feet, the sand shifting beneath you as you cautiously made your way toward her. As you approached, you could feel your heart racing, a strange mixture of hope and fear building inside you. You sat down beside her, your gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky met the sea.

“What’s your name?” her voice was soft, almost ethereal, as she finally spoke.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with possibilities, before you answered, “y/n. What’s yours?” Your eyes remained locked on the scenery before you, afraid to look directly at her, afraid to confront the truth.

“It’s.. Tzuyu,” she replied, her voice carrying a weight of unspoken memories.

The name struck you like a bolt of lightning. You turned to look at her, your eyes wide with shock as if the final piece of a complex puzzle had just fallen into place. She mirrored your expression, her own eyes widening in recognition.

“It’s you!?” you both exclaimed in unison, the disbelief in your voices quickly dissolving into laughter, tinged with the relief of finally understanding.

“You’re the girl in my dreams?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you spoke. Tears began to well up in your eyes, and despite your best efforts, they started to stream down your face. You tried to smile, but the overwhelming emotions made it difficult.

“It seems so,” she replied, tears trailing down her own cheeks. “Each day I wake up missing you. I’m just… I’m just really… happy to see you, y/n!” Her voice cracked with emotion as she threw her arms around you, pulling you into a tight, desperate embrace.

“Me too, Tzuyu,” you murmured, your voice breaking as your own emotions poured out. Tears fell freely from your eyes, soaking into her shoulder. “Every morning it hurts to wake up without you.”

Tzuyu sobbed quietly into your shoulder, her body trembling against yours as if holding on for dear life. Her grip tightened, her fingers digging into your back as though afraid you might disappear if she let go.

“I just… I’m sorry—I can’t seem to remember you,” she whispered, her voice cracking with frustration and sorrow. “No matter how much I try, no matter how much I write or draw… I can’t seem to—” Her voice broke, and she buried her face deeper into your shoulder, her tears soaking through your shirt.

You felt your heart twist, a sharp pang of sadness cutting through the warmth of the moment. You gently patted her back, trying to comfort her, though you knew the weight of what she was saying. “I know, Tzuyu,” you whispered softly. “I don’t know how.. but we’re here together now. That’s what matters.”

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, her eyes still glossy with unshed tears.

“Can you remember anything before you came here?”

You furrowed your brows trying to remember, “Hmm. The last thing I remember before showing up here was… I think I was a samurai?”

Tzuyu’s eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching slightly as your words sunk in. She gazed at you as if the pieces of a puzzle were slowly clicking into place. “You were… my protector?” she asked, her voice trembling with both wonder and disbelief.

You nodded slowly, the memories rushing back in vivid flashes—armor, sword in hand, standing at her side in a life long past. “Yes, Chou-sama.” You chuckled in disbelief and more tears trailed down your cheek as you smiled so brightly

Tzuyu’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were different—tears of recognition, of understanding, of something deeper than memory alone could explain. She cupped your face in her hands, her touch tender as she studied your features like she was trying to memorize every detail.

“I think… I think I kind of remember now,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Not everything, but pieces… glimpses of you. Moments and memories with you” She laughed softly through her tears. “It sounds crazy, but I think I’ve been searching for you across lives… across timelines”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. All the moments you’ve shared with her flashed in your mind– finally remembering. “I’ve been searching for you too. And somehow, we always find each other.” You brought your hand up to gently wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Do you think,” she anxiously began “that whenever we leave this place, do you think we’ll just forget?” she said softly, barely above a whisper

There was a pause in the air. As if you both came to the harsh realization that you’ll just be left with the longing for each other.

“I don’t want to forget.”

“What if we tried to think of a way to remember each other?” She began as if a light bulb appeared above her head “Like hmm… do you have a pen or–”

But before she could finish, something strange began to happen. The shore around you started to stretch, elongating in a way that defied all logic. The distance between you and Tzuyu grew longer and longer, pulling her away from your embrace as if some unseen force was tearing you apart.

“Wait! No-! y/n!” she cried out, her voice filled with desperation as she reached out for you. She got up and tried to run toward you, but the distance only increased, the shore stretching endlessly between you.

“Tzuyu!” you shouted back, your voice breaking with panic. You ran toward her as fast as you could, your hand outstretched, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t reach her. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision, but you could still see her hand reaching out for you.

“My name is Tzuyu! Please.. please don’t forget me!” she yelled, her voice trembling as she fought against the ever-expanding distance.

“y/n! It’s y/n!” you screamed, your voice echoing across the shore as you stretched your hand toward her. You were so close, almost touching her fingers—

But then you woke up.

You shot up from your couch, your heart hammering in your chest. Tears flowed down your face, the remnants of the dream still clinging to your mind like a fading mist. The emptiness beside you was unbearable, the longing for her presence too much to bear.

You were back in reality, but the pain was still there, fresh and raw, as if the dream had torn open a wound you didn’t even know you had.

“No..wait..” you trembled as tears blurred your vision “No!” you yelled in frustration causing Bread to shoot his head up from his bed that was placed next to the couch (Thanks Momo)

“What... what, god..fuck, what was her name!?” you hyperventilated as you looked at your hand that almost touched hers

“Fuck..!” you sobbed “Why can’t I remember her face? Or her name?!” frustration spilled out of you as everything seemed to be on the tip of your tongue yet unable to grasp it

The dreams stopped happening.

Looking back in hindsight, at the time they were

Frustrating.

Annoying.

Pesky even.

But now?

More than anything, you missed her—the girl who had once haunted your nights and now left your days feeling empty

To escape the aching void she left behind, you threw yourself into work, burying the longing under piles of paperwork and endless meetings.You even paid Momo ‘overtime’ as you decided to work 12-hour shifts from time to time each week. She never asked why you were suddenly working twelve-hour shifts, though the concern in her eyes said enough..

You even confided in Jihyo about the dreams—or the lack of them. She suggested you try everything from ‘shifting’ podcasts to ‘lucid dream’ vibrations on YouTube, but nothing worked. The harder you tried to dream, the more elusive sleep became.

One weekend, you overslept for an alarming number of hours. Momo let herself into your apartment to do a ‘wellness check’. Bread’s excited barks greeted her at the door, tail wagging so hard it looked like he might take off.

“y/n, you okay? It’s Momo, I’m worried” she announced making her way through your apartment while petting Bread.

She opened up your bedroom door and was greeted by a groggy you(alive and well)

“Hmm~?” you mumbled “Momo? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” You said as you plopped back into bed, stretching like a lazy cat

“Am I okay?” she huffed. “You weren’t responding to my texts like you usually do, you vampire! It’s almost 12:45!”

“12:45?!” You shot up, reaching for your phone in disbelief–blinking a couple times to focus your eyes. Sure enough, the screen glowed back at you with the time—12:37 pm.

“Yes, idiot!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever—I'm just glad you're okay. Seems like Bread’s happy you’re okay too.” she said as Bread made his way onto your bed, licking your face

“Ah~ hi baby~! Good mo- afternoon~!” you cooed at him “ Sorry for worrying you Momo, I just took melatonin a bit too late I think” you said as you shifted your focus to Momo

“Don’t worry, maybe as a thank-you, you should take him on a walk today– seems like you need the fresh air more than me” she chuckled as she settled down on the foot of your bed

“Yeah that seems like a good idea, feel like I lost half my day” you rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment

“Yeah, well.. you kinda did!” she teased

After cooking bre..lunch with Momo, you got ready for whatever was left of the day and leashed up Bread. You headed out towards the park hoping that it would clear your mind

As you made your way to the crosswalk that was in the direction of the park you usually went to, you noticed a woman on the bus. You recognized her from somewhere. Your soul pulled you to go to her but she was in the lane that was turning left.

She met your eyes and jolted towards you as the turn light turned green, causing your body to also jolt forward… only to be stopped by the cars that were driving in front of you.

Something inside of you needed to see her– yearned for her.

So you took the risk. You picked up Bread and weaved through the traffic while multiple cars honked at you.

You made it across the (seemingly) endless crosswalk, the bus she was in made a right turn and you watched her as she locked eyes with you from the back window/door of the bus as she faded into a silhouette

Defeated and broken.

You made your way to the park. You found a bench and sat down, letting Bread wander within the limits of his leash while you sank into your thoughts. Time seemed to blur as you replayed the fleeting moment over and over in your mind, wondering why it hurt so much.

The leash tugged at your hand, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Bread straining toward another dog across the park. Your eyes followed the leash to its owner, and there she was—the woman from the bus, walking two dogs of her own.

Your body moved on its own. Like she had some sort of magnet pulling you.

You finally reached her. She was a distance away but it was her. It was for sure, the woman from the bus.

Bread noticed the two dogs and pulled you closer and closer to her before reaching them.

The three of them began sniffing each other and you politely said “Oh he’s very curious, sorry” You gaze focused on the dogs, trying your best to mask the turmoil inside you

“It’s okay,” she let out “they are too”

Awkward silence hung between you, the kind that feels heavy with unspoken words. You finally broke it, the question bursting out before you could stop it.

“Have we met before?”

She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to recall. “I think… maybe… Oh—! You’re the one that bumped into me at the bookstore!” she exclaimed quietly.

A tinge of sadness settled in your heart, as if that wasn’t the right answer, or maybe it was just too mundane to explain the ache in your chest. “Oh—! Yeah, that’s right… sorry about that again.” You chuckled, but it was hollow, devoid of real humor.. You swore it wasn’t that..Or maybe it was just that. Was it?

Silence hung in the air after she whispered a quiet “it’s okay”

“Well, I'll let you get on your way. Thanks for letting Bread meet them” You said as you fought back tears before (quite literally) tugging Bread away

“No problem, I thank you too..” she called after you, her voice tinged with a sadness that matched your own.

You two began to part ways

Why did your heart hurt so bad? Why does it feel like the Earth itself is laying on your chest right now?

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you fought tooth and nail to keep walking away, lightly tugging on Bread’s harness as he also wanted to go back

You were almost to the turn out of the park before you heard a voice yell a familiar name

“Tzuyu!”

You froze, turning around slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. There she was. The lost memories of her rushed back into your mind. The woman from the bookstore, the bus, your dreams. Tears streaked her face, but she was smiling—a radiant, beautiful smile that lit up her entire face.

“My name is Tzuyu!” she said again, her voice trembling with emotion, a laugh escaping her lips as another tear raced down her dimpled cheek.

You felt your own smile forming, though it felt awkward and lopsided, as if you weren’t quite sure how to use your face anymore. “Tzuyu-ya!” you called back, your voice cracking with emotion.

“I feel… I feel like I know you!” you said, the words tumbling out of you, raw and desperate.

Her smile grew even wider, if that was possible. “I.. I feel the same way!” she replied, walking closer to you with each step.

“I think we finally found each other, Tzuyu.” You began closing the distance between you two

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she was smiling, a smile that spoke of happiness, of a future you could finally share.

“I’m so glad,” she whispered, stepping closer, her arms wrapping around you in a tight, desperate embrace. “I’m so glad I found you.”

You held her close, feeling her warmth, her heartbeat against yours while tears streamed down your face. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you, together at last.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt at peace. The dreams, the longing, the months of searching—they had all led you here, to this moment, to her.

Finally, after all this time, you were home.

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