#studio ghibli fanfic

[artimaking]

she was a playboy, brigitte bardot

she showed me things i didn't know ⭐💗

[mieczyslawn]

random headers !! ★

[dallo-stan]

AQUARELA

[cynosfunnyjokes]

A Heart’s A Heavy Burden

Characters: Howl x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: None that I can think of.

Summary: Loving Howl Pendragon isn’t easy.

Word Count: 827

Summary: Not really edited or anything- I’m sure there’s mistakes all throughout but I wrote this while watching Howl’s Moving Castle for the umpteenth time lmao. No pronouns are used for the reader!

Apprenticing under Howl was such a joy- never was there a dull moment. He would brighten up the room with his smile- his laugh. It was so contagious that you and Markl couldn't fight the grins growing on your own faces.

Meeting Howl on its own was nothing but luck- you had found yourself in some trouble with the guards, their stupid remarks making you nothing but uncomfortable- and then poof, a stranger was there, whisking you away.

How strange that the random man was Howl himself- a well-known sorcerer and someone you looked up to. Of course, you nervously asked him to take you on as an apprentice, eagerly telling him about your interest in magic since you were young.

He simply laughed, smiling that bright smile everyone adored, and simply agreed to take you in.

All went well- he was a great teacher after all. Even with him being gone at random times throughout the day, you had Markl to spend time with to practice. And then there was Calcifer and his witty remarks. They never bothered you, simply jokingly throwing one back at him.

It didn't take long for feelings to grow for the mysterious sorcerer- everyone noticed it but Howl himself. Not that it was surprising.

Even Calfcifer noticed but never said about it, unlike Markl who made random remarks during the day in whispers, causing you to hide your face while the blush crept up to your ears.

Although one day, while cleaning up the firepit during the time Howl was away, Calficer clicked his tongue at you.

Raising an eyebrow, you turned your head to the burning ball of fire in front of you, silently asking him “what?”

“You really do love him, don't you?”

It was so sudden, it felt so random-

But that’s all he said. That's all he needed to say.

You were undeniably in love with Howl, and you could only hope the feelings were reciprocated. Maybe, just maybe they were.

All hope went down the drain the moment Sophie showed up. Suddenly, Howl wasn't around as much anymore- and when he was, he was with her.

It was always her. Sophie this, Sophie that.

Slowly, the feelings of sadness crept in, their sharp nails jabbing into your heart.

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Eventually, you stopped leaving your room- opting to just study the days away instead of focusing on the pain residing in your heart.

Markl would stop by to check on you, dropping off food that would stay nothing but untouched, slowly growing cold as time passed.

Even though you appreciated Markl’s company, it didn't help that he often talked about Sophie- how cool she was. All this, all that.

It was all too much.

Howl never stopped in to talk- to check on you. Not that you expected him to. He was his own person who had his own things to do. He was a busy man after all. But still, you found yourself clinging to that hope- just to have it crushed.

Eventually, even Markl stopped popping in, choosing to set the food down on your table before retreating to Sophie.

It was fine. It was all fine. That's what you always told yourself.

But yet... Why did it hurt so much?

Pressing shaking hands against your tear-filled eyes, the only sound that could be heard was small sobs that you were trying oh so hard to muffle.

It was so unfair.

You wanted him to look at you like he does her. To experience the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, to feel his loving gaze.

But that would never happen.

There wasn't much point in staying there anymore- you refused to leave your room unless it was to quickly run to the bathroom, refused to even leave your bed unless it was necessary.

What was the point of staying there? Where the reminder of your unrequited love stayed?

It was raining outside, the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the window helping drown out any sounds that escaped you.

Bag in hand that was full of a few necessities and a small photo of you and Howl, you stopped to stare at Howl’s bedroom door for a minute.

Loving him hurt- but it wasn't something you regretted. If only things were different, maybe it would've been better. Such a false sense of hope.

Howl seemed happier with Sophie- even Calcifer and Markl were happier.

You weren't needed anymore.

So without a single thought, you turned on your heels and climbed out the hallway window to avoid Calcifer knowing.

Landing on the muddy ground below with a let thump, you looked at what used to be your home one last time, thoughts racing a thousand miles per second. You didn't want to stay and be reminded of how much happier everyone was without you.

So you left, the rain being your only company as you sobbed into the night.

[druh19]

Já que fez personagens ISFJ, poderia fazer icons dos ISFP, pfv?? 🤰🏻

Aqui ✨🤸‍♀️

༝ ISFP characters icons

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[justwinginglife]

After All This Time

Have yall seen the gorgeous man that is Howl Jenkins Pendragon? I had to make it NSFW, I just had to.

Howl leads Sophie out to the balcony for yet another romantic kiss, awash in moonlight.

You think you might barf. That, or claw out your own heart. You can’t tell what’s more distracting, the acid threatening to rumble up your throat or the aching in your chest threatening to consume you whole. You almost feel guilty for just how heartbroken you feel whenever you see them together.

They’re a cute couple. Much cuter than you would ever be with him. The whole time you’d known him, he’d been searching for her. He would repeat to you the same story about how she had appeared to him, almost like in a dream, asking him to come find her. She was all he’d ever wanted, even before he’d even known her. And why wouldn’t she be? She was kind, even to you. Made your favorite foods whenever you were down, taught you how to tie bows in your hair. And yet, all you could do was despise her. You felt like shit.

But some part of you, some wretched part you’d hidden deep inside your darkness, though apparently not deep enough, felt like Howl belonged to you. He’d met her first, but only for a few seconds before she’d vanished into thin air. It hardly counted as a meeting, in your opinion. You met him soon after; you’d run away to get lost in the meadows and the mountains after your family had renounced you, and that’s when you caught sight of his raven black hair fluttering in the wind as he picked flowers without a care in the world. That was honestly probably the moment you fell in love with him, though you denied it until it was too late.

You remember you laid in the field with him for hours that day, plucking petals, talking secrets and aspirations. You didn’t care that he was some stranger you’d just met, you were a kid, and he was your savior. He offered you a home and you offered him your life, said you’d help him find the girl he was searching for. Really, you would’ve done anything just to stay by his side.

Your most comfortable nights were when he snuggled in bed beside you, keeping your nightmares at bay with his sweet words and intoxicating scent. He’d read you stories to pass the time, and you’d fall asleep in his arms, listening to the familiar rumble of his voice in his chest as you snuggled up against it. Sometimes he’d tell you stories about his own life. Your favorite one was the day he met you. You’d beg him to tell you that story over and over, and though he’d laugh and tease you because you already knew the story having lived it, he’d cave in and humor you anyway, each and every time, without fail. He could never resist you (though sometimes he tried, because he thought it was cute when you pouted.) When he’d finally start telling the story, you’d smile the biggest smile and he’d wonder why he ever stalled in the first place, when he had such a sight to look forward to. Sometimes he’d change up details of the story just to make you laugh, say you flew in on a spaceship, say he was 10 feet tall the day you’d met. It wasn’t hard to make you laugh. Howl loved your laugh and you loved to make him happy. You gave every part of yourself freely.

You weren’t always the best influence on him, but you were his perfect match. One weekend, the two of you didn’t have enough money for food, so he stole a loaf of bread from a merchant he hated. When he sheepishly admitted his crime to you, ready to defend himself with his growling stomach as hard evidence, you smirked and uncovered a basket full of pastries you’d stolen from the same baker. He laughed so hard he fell into the fireplace and you had to rinse ashes from his hair. The two of you toasted your loaves of bread and munched on them together, giggling and nudging each other the rest of the night.

The “partner in crime” act continued when you decided to pursue magic together. You almost got yourselves kicked out of your training because the two of you would play pranks on the rest of the class. Sometimes they were justified and sometimes they were not, but they were fun either way. One time, a bully jeered at Howl’s jet black hair and you turned him into a worm. Unfortunately, that was also the day Howl had started to dye his hair blonde, though he claimed it was unrelated. You made every effort to tell him you adored the way he looked before, and it broke your heart that he wouldn’t listen. He’d say you were just like his sister and it was your job to lie to him and tell him he looked good. You didn’t have the guts to tell him that you’d always loved the way he looked, that you’d always loved him. You didn’t have the guts to beg him to see you as something different, to beg him to see you as something more.

When your first Christmas with him started quickly approaching, you used the only skills at your disposal to make him a pink coat with blue diamonds patched onto it. He loved it so much that he wore it everywhere, and when he finally started to outgrow it, he begged you to make him the same jacket a size larger. And then another size larger. And another, until he was fully grown, fully handsome, and still wrapped in the evidence of your secret love for him.

For the longest time, it was just you, Howl, and Calcifer in his castle. And for the longest time, you wondered if he could just let go of the Sophie thing. You were happy the way things were, why couldn’t he be happy too?

You even thought he might have started to love you back at some point. He’d blush when your shirt would ride up. He’d freeze when you’d brush up against him, even though you had spent many nights sleeping in each other's arms when you were kids. He’d compliment you more, every word carefully handpicked, like he’d spent time thinking about all the ways he adored you.

But then he found her. And he remembered the one thing he wanted.

He’d spent so long looking for her, it didn’t seem right to quit now, though you would’ve happily persuaded him otherwise.

And when you met her, when she was talented, when she was generous, when she was spunky, your heart crumbled to pieces. She was the perfect woman. His perfect woman. And suddenly the weight of your hopes, of your dreams, of your love, came crashing down on you, leaving you devastated in the aftermath.

So tonight, you choke back more “what if’s” as you gaze into the glow of the fire, wondering if you can just feed yourself to Calcifer. Of course, he’d never do that. He was rooting for you. He was the only one; you’d given up on having Howl, at this point.

You hear the door open but don't move from your spot. You think you vaguely hear Sophie mumble a shaky “goodnight” to you, but it’s in between panted breaths, and you almost puke again thinking about just how much oxygen he must’ve sucked from her lungs with that kiss. You say nothing, biting your lip until it bleeds. She goes to bed.

You hear the door open again, and find yourself increasingly more interested in the embers, not wanting to look over at him, not wanting to see his love-drunk expression.

He plops down beside you, sighing happily. There’s that puking feeling again.

You don’t say a word and he nudges you with his shoulder. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And can I ask why you can’t sleep?”

You shake your head again.

“Can I at least ask why I can’t ask?”

“Nope.”

He rolls his eyes. “C’mon. It’s me. You know you can tell me anything.”

“No, thanks.”

He sighs, exasperated. “You barely talk to me and when you do, it’s not more than two words. What is going on with you tonight?”

“Nothing. Just can’t sleep.” Then you smirk. “See- I said more than two words that time.”

He laughs, glad you’re back to joking with him again. “Gods, you’re stubborn, you know that? And a bit of a jackass.”

You laugh at that. “It’s a good thing you love me anyway.”

He blushes. “Bold of you to assume I love you.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “You better love me at least a little, we are best friends, you know.” You hope he can’t hear the tone in which you say the word love, like you’re not holding your breath, waiting for a confession after he’s just sent his girlfriend to bed.

“Right. Yeah. We are best friends. I do love you, of course I love you. Because we’re friends.” He stumbles on his words and you have the audacity to find it cute. His girlfriend is waiting for him to come to bed, and you’re sitting here, coaxing the word love from him, like you’re not going to purposely misinterpret it later, like you’re not going to go lie in bed after this, staring at the ceiling for hours, just dreaming about the way he says he loves you. You thought you knew better than this.

Apparently you don’t. You answer like an idiot. “And I love you too. As a best friend.”

The blush crawls up his face and tinges his ears red. “Yup. Friends. Best friends.”

The sight makes you choke on your laughter, and for a minute you almost forget just how serious this moment is. “Howl, why are you being weird?”

He scoffs at you. “I’m not being weird. I’m being normal.”

You pinch his cheek. “You’re being so awkward, what gives? It’s just me.” You nudge his shoulder as platonically as you can, but you know it’s just because you’re dying to touch him somewhere, anywhere.

He makes a strangled noise. “You’re being embarrassing, that’s all.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, ignoring the thumping in your chest. “And how am I embarrassing you, Howl?

He sighs, your close proximity to him somehow relaxing him and making him tense up at the same time. “You’re being so touchy… and you say you love me… but as a best friend.”

“And are we not best friends?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, we are. But somehow I get the feeling that you mean something else when you say that. When you say you… love me.”

“And what do you want it to mean?” You know this is a mess of your own making. You know you’re just daring him to confess. But you can’t stop now.

“Well. Just tell me what you mean when you say it.”

You go back to shaking your head and he groans.

“Why won’t you just tell me? I want, I need to know your answer. It’s driving me crazy.”

“What’s the issue? You have Sophie. You don’t need me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sophie has nothing to do with this. Right now, this is just about you and me.”

All your nerve leaves you when you think you might finally have to confess. “Howl. I’m going to bed.” You get up to leave.

He grabs your wrist. “No. You can’t. I’m not done.”

You yank your wrist away. “I’m done. Goodnight, Howl.”

You lock the door to your room thinking the conversation has ended, thinking you can finally let the depression swallow you whole. But he bangs on the door over and over, so much so that you start to feel guilty for Sophie who’s sleeping soundly a couple rooms away. You yank the door open and tug him inside, closing the door behind him. He had wanted to come in, but now that he’s standing alone in your room with you, he’s suddenly silent, the weight of this intimate moment sinking in.

You sigh and drag him over to the bed, pulling him down beside you, and snuggling up against him.

He freezes up.

“Stop acting like a stranger, we used to sleep together all the time.”

He coughs. “Yeah, when we were kids. It’s been awhile since we’ve done this.” He says that, but he slowly puts his arms around you anyway, resuming his usual position on your bed.

“Yeah well, that’s cuz you went and got yourself a girlfriend.” And maybe it’s because it was the middle of the night and you’re sleep deprived -if he asks, that’s what you’ll blame it on- but you suddenly blurt out, “And I’m offended, by the way.”

He huffs, amused. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

“Well you know what, maybe I should go get a boyfriend then.”

He tenses up again. “Wh-why’s that?”

You shrug. “You have a girlfriend, why can’t I have a boyfriend?”

“B-because! You don’t know what men are like. They might take advantage of you.”

“So who should I date then?”

He swallows. “No one.”

You don’t actually intend to get a boyfriend, you’re too far gone for Howl, but suddenly his words stir some fire in you that you didn’t know existed. He has the audacity to not love you and then claim you can’t love anyone else? The balls on him.

He can feel the air shift because he suddenly tries to make light of the situation. “Besides, I don’t like sharing my best friend with anyone anyway.”

You glare at him. “Well that’s bullshit because I have to share you with Sophie. It used to be just the two of us, don’t you remember?”

He sighs, guilt creasing his face. “I know, I know. But you’re still important to me. She’s just… she’s my everything.”

You wince and pull yourself out of his arms, turning to face the opposite direction.

He groans. “Come on, don’t be like this. Talk to me. I don’t like when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset, I’m just tired, I want to go to bed. Go to your girlfriend, Howl.”

“Please. Please just talk to me.” He begs, desperation staining his voice.

Suddenly you snap. “She’s your everything, but that used to be me.” You hadn’t intended the words to sound bitter, but they leave a sour taste in your mouth on the way out.

He winces. “I… yeah, I know. I know things are different now, but the way I feel about you hasn’t changed.”

“That’s the problem.” You whisper to yourself so quietly he’s left straining to hear. When he doesn’t answer, you realize he didn’t hear you after all, and you don’t have the energy to say it again. You wrap yourself up tightly in the blankets. “Your girlfriend is going to worry if you keep her waiting much longer. Go to her.”

He sighs. He wants to keep talking with you but he knows you’re right. He doesn’t want to worry Sophie. He promises he’ll talk with you in the morning and takes his leave.

In the morning, he finds that all of your things are missing and you’re nowhere to be found. He panics and races outside in his pajamas, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He sees your head bobbing down the street, bags in your hands. He almost collapses a lung trying to chase after you.

“What are you doing??” He yells as he runs.

You flinch at his voice, recognizing it instantly, but you keep walking.

He catches up to you and wrenches your arm backwards. You drop a bag and he quickly picks it up but holds onto it.

“Why do you have all your things? Where are you going? Why are you going? You can’t just leave me like this!” His words are rushed, like they’re flooding out, like he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, just that he wants to say something, just that he needs to make you acknowledge him, to make you stay.

You reach for your bag and he yanks it back. “Howl-”

“You- you can’t leave me, damnit!” He snaps and you realize it’s been a long time since he was this mad at you. You almost smile at the thought that your departure causes him so much displeasure. It’s sweet.

“Howl, I need to go.”

“No, no, you don’t. You need to stay with me. What ever happened to best friends? What ever happened to I love you?”

“Howl.”

He doesn’t listen. He keeps rambling.

“Howl. Howl!”

His eyes snap up to yours.

“I love you, Howl.”

He shuts the fuck up.

“I’m in love with you.” You say again, letting the words sink in. He’s still reeling from the shock of it all.

You continue, “I love you, so I can’t stay. I can’t be close to you like this. I can’t keep third wheeling, I can’t keep lying awake at night, dreaming about you, listening to you sleep next door. I can’t. It’s time, I need to go.” You muster up your best smile for him. It’s much easier to grab the bag from his hands now that he’s frozen in place.

You hear him weakly mumbling things like “But I still need you” and “But you can’t leave me” and you wince, but you turn to leave anyway. He weakly grabs onto your arm again, but he’s so shaken, it’s easy to slip out of his grip.

You sigh as you take in the sad sight of him in this miserable state. “You don’t need me. You’ll be fine. You have Sophie. Everything will be fine. I wish you both happiness.” You don’t, but you say it anyway, you reassure him, because that’s what you do when you love him.

When he continues fumbling for you, his words a jumbled mess, you realize he’ll just keep coming after you, even in this weakened state, so you speak up again, “Old friend. Will you do me a favor?”

Life slowly flickers back into his eyes, as he thinks of how he can be of use to you. “Yes, anything. Anything for you.”

“Close your eyes.”

He bites his lip but hesitantly closes his eyes anyway.

You want to leave now. You want to bolt while he’s not looking. But your greed gets the better of you. You hesitate before finally making the decision to kiss him on the cheek, and you know you’ll keep that moment with you forever. You’ll hold on to the feeling of his cheek on your lips until the day you die, because you know you’ll love him until the day you die.

Then you walk away, picking up the pace as you continue down the street, hoping he doesn’t open his eyes, hoping you saved him the pain of having to watch you leave.

Many years later, you’re running errands, walking down the street at a leisurely pace, just enjoying the sun on your skin. You look up at the sky, taking in the fresh air and basking in the sunlight.

Not watching where you’re going, you crash into someone. You immediately think to apologize, but your words get swallowed down when you catch a glimpse of jet black hair.

“H-Howl?”

He blinks. And then he blinks again, this time trying to hold back tears. “Is…is it really… really you?”

A smile spreads across your face. “Hi.”

He reaches out to touch you and then he stops. You intertwine your fingers with his before he can pull his hand away. His fingers lock into place as he draws closer to you, sinking into your touch.

“You’re here.” He whispers.

You ruffle his hair. “You went back to your natural color. I like it.”

He blushes and he absentmindedly reaches up to touch the place where your hand just grazed his hair. “You… you always said you liked it better.”

You smile again. Then you let his hand go, much to his disappointment, and start looking around, looking for her. Your brows furrow in confusion when you don’t see anyone nearby. “Where’s Sofie?”

He swallows, looking down. “She, uh, she’s not… not here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“She… we…um. We broke up. Awhile ago. Wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”

You choke on your spit. “You what? Oh you poor thing, let me get you a drink.” You start dragging him away before he can properly process what’s going on.

He thinks you’re taking him to a bar, and he’s surprised when you lead him into your house, ushering him onto one of your bar stools. He looks around while you mix up a drink for him. He realizes this place looks oddly familiar, even though he’s never been here before.

You realize he’s trying to piece together where he’s seen this place. You crack a smile. “I modeled it after that house we stayed at, in the countryside. Seems you remember it well. You like it?”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Before he can make any proper commentary on the house, a child runs up to you and throws his arms around your leg.

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “Hey, sweetie. What’re you doing down there?”

Howl swallows, watching this interaction with bated breath. He wonders if that’s your kid. It has to be, it’s your house.

You hand Howl the freshly mixed drink and he takes a sip.

He’s about to comment on how good it is when he hears the kid say, “Mom! Up!” and he chokes on his drink.

You pick the kid up, resting him on your hip before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Silly. What would your mother say if she heard you calling me mom? It’s auntie, remember? Now go run along and help your mom out with the laundry, okay baby?” You set the kid down and he nods before running to the backroom.

When the kid is gone, you burst into laughter. “You should’ve seen your face. I thought I was gonna die, you looked like you just had a stroke. You thought he was my kid, huh?” You turn to Howl and poke him on the nose.

He rolls his eyes and swats your hand away, seemingly unfrozen now. “Well, can you blame me?”

“He doesn’t look a thing like me,” You tease, nudging him with your elbow.

“Well he could’ve taken after your husband!” He exclaimed defensively.

“Well I don’t have a husband.”

Howl blinks. “No husband.” He repeats.

“And… no boyfriend either.” You say slowly, watching him process this information.

“And no boyfriend either.” He repeats, each word softer than the next.

Suddenly you’re interrupted by your sister waving at you as she takes her kid and her freshly done laundry out the door with her. You wave back and when you catch Howl’s shocked expression, you explain to him that you reconnected with some of your family. He’s happy for you. He always is. Your wins were always his wins. You always loved that about him.You wonder if you can dare to love him some more. If you can dare to dream.

“So… do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” You ask nonchalantly.

He bites his lip. “N-no. Just kind of been… wandering aimlessly.”

You perk up. “Well perfect, I have spare rooms.”

He blushes. “You’d let me stay here? Even after all this time?

You hop into a seat next to him. “Well yeah, aren’t we best friends? That doesn’t just go away, you know.” You nudge his shoulder. Then you dare to rest your head on it.

He freezes but then he relaxes. “This drink is pretty good, by the way.”

“Better be. I put your favorite flavors in it.”

He sits up straighter. “You remember?”

“I remember everything.”

He goes silent, lost in his thoughts.

You want to cheer him up. “Bet I can drink you under the table.”

He snorts. “Like hell you can.”

You spend the next few hours chugging drinks, laughing, catching each other up on everything non-Sofie related. She’s not important right now. Part of you hopes she’ll never come up again. Actually, most of you hopes that.

Eventually it’s time to retire, and you say you’ll draw him up a bath with his favorite scents. He smiles at you, “I’ll toast to that!” and he lifts his cup to you as you disappear into the bathroom.

You reappear to tell him it’s ready and he flushes bright red when you tell him you’ll just be right next door, taking your bath, if he needs you. He begins to soak in the tub, his mind swimming with thoughts of you. He can’t stand you being so close and yet so far away. And taking a bath. Naked, no less. Just behind that wall. He gulps and sinks deeper into the tub, trying to drown out his thoughts.

Then you call out to him and he snaps out of it. “Howl. I forgot my towel in there. Could you bring it to me?”

His eyes widen and his heart thumps in his chest. Is this what cardiac arrest feels like? He pulls himself out of the bath and shakily grabs your towel before making the trip next door.

You think he’ll just leave it outside so you get up to grab it but then he opens the door right as you step out of the bath, the water dripping down your fully naked body.

His eyes rake all over your body and he almost drops the towel in shock. But he can’t stop looking. His blood is burning in his veins, but he can’t stop looking. His lungs feel like they’re ablaze, but he can’t stop looking. You look so perfect, so heavenly.

You break the silence. “I-I thought y-you’d leave the towel outside the door.” Your cheeks flood with red.

He lets out a strangled chuckle, as his eyes continue to roam. “I… yeah, I was just… I’ll just…”

You bite your lip and it shoots his heart straight into the stratosphere.

He takes a hesitant step towards you.

You swallow.

He takes another step, taking in every inch of you.

You can’t help but do the same, admiring his bare body.

He takes another step, finally finding himself directly in front of you. “I just…” He continues and then trails off.

“Yes?” You lean in closer to him, but that’s all you do.

You’re so close to him, your breaths begin to mingle with each other.

“J-just…” He finds himself staring at your lips. Of all the parts of you to be staring at, that’s what he’s settled on. He swallows. “Just… can I…?”

“Yes.”

It only takes a second for him to swallow up all the tension between you, closing the distance, and claiming your lips in a desperate kiss. His hands wander the smooth expanse of your body, memorizing every curve. His kisses are possessive, like he needs to make his mark on you before he wakes up and finds this all a dream. His tongue moves urgently through your mouth, like he might find heaven in the back of your throat.

“Howl…” You whine.

He groans at the sound, gripping your hips tighter and pulling you flush up against him.

“Fuck. Howl, don’t stop.”

Lust flares in his eyes at your words. “I wouldn’t dream of it, I can’t get enough of you,” He pants, eager to claim your lips again.

After a couple more dizzying kisses, you murmur in a daze, “You taste better than I imagined.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck. You imagined me?”

You trace the length of his bare back, your slender fingers eliciting shivers from him. “All the time. All the damn time.”

He pushes you against the wall and you gasp at the cold tile on your back. “Howl, that’s cold!”

He smirks. “I promise I’ll warm you up.” He traces hot kisses down your neck, down your breasts, stopping to suck on a peaked nipple, before trailing his kisses further down your abdomen. He kneels in front of you, eyeing your dripping cunt. He’s waiting for permission.

“Are you gonna gawk all day or are you going to taste me?”

He chuckles at your bold words. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before. I like it.” And without another word, he brings his head in between your legs, hungrily lapping at your wet heat. Every whimper and every whine he coaxes from your lips makes him eager to taste more of you. The rough strokes of his tongue dragging itself up and down your slit overwhelms you and you think you might just come on his face. Then he jams his tongue inside you, moaning as your depths envelop him, your slick drizzling down his throat as he swallows. And you do come on his face, fist in his hair, as you moan his name.

He groans as your orgasm floods into his mouth.

You’ve not even finished all the way, the evidence of your desire still trickling down your legs, when suddenly he pulls away from you; before you can complain about his absence, he shoves his bulging erection deep inside your swollen cunt, gasping as your slick coats his cock.

“Howl!” You dig your nails into his back as you adjust to the new sensation.

He sighs, the sound filled with ecstasy. “If you keep saying my name like that, I won’t be able to last much longer.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” You gasp out.

He shakes his head, grunting as he thrusts into you. “I do. I want to enjoy every second of this.”

His fingers carve canyons into your hips as he steadies himself against your skin.

“Howl…” You groan again, letting your head fall back against the wall. “I want you. I need you.”

His eyes darken as he soaks in the sound of your whines. “I’m right here, darling.” He picks up the pace, though still restraining himself.

“And you feel so good inside me,” You bite your lip, “I bet you’d feel even better pumping your seed into me.”

He swears under his breath, but he can’t muster up the strength for anymore words, all his strength has been poured into resisting you, into resisting the urge to let go. But his strength dwindles quickly at the sight of you flushed beneath him, at the sounds of your moans echoing against the tiled walls. He slams his cock deeper and then finds his release with his tongue in your mouth, swallowing down your pleasure as he fills you up.

You both don’t move for a moment. You just stand there, shuddering, panting, holding each other for support.

Then you start to laugh and he laughs with you.

“You may as well take a bath with me since you’ve already seen me naked,” You tease, jerking a thumb towards the tub.

He grins widely. “Well, if you insist.”

“Oh, I do.” You say devilishly, leading him towards the bath.

You both slide into the tub, sighs escaping your lips, as the warm water envelops both your bodies. You snuggle up against him, soaking in the beauty of the moment.

“You know,” He says thoughtfully, “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

You lift your chin up to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you mean Sophie?”

He shakes his head. “I thought that’s what I wanted, but you were right there, right in front of me the whole time. I’ve only ever needed you. I…” He hesitates, but the feeling of you snug against him gives him courage, “I love you.” Then he grins. “And not just like a best friend.”

You laugh and kiss his chest. “Well how about that? I love you too.”

He beams. “Even after all this time?”

You kiss his cheek. You kiss his forehead. You kiss his lips. He sighs, savoring the feeling of your lips on his skin.

You nuzzle up against his ear and murmur, “Especially after all this time.”

[seongset]

ㅤ˵ 𖥻 ִponyo and sasuke icons ۫ ּ ﹗ (like/reblog if use)

[yup-thats-me]

—the last dance • Howl Pendragon

pairing; Prince!Howl x Princess!reader summary; not all famous love stories are happy ones. Their tale is the living proof warning; fantasy kingdoms, death a/n; I highly recommend you listen to “Howl’s Moving Castle Theme but darker,” by PianoDeuss. I swear it sets the mood!

The hauntingly beautiful music from the century-old piano filled the dimly lit, empty ballroom space. The pianist was Princess Y/n, the future queen of the kingdom Atheria, the pride of the nation; the angel.

But this angle was hurt. Her fingertips are red, her head tipped back as her fingers played by their own. Her sunken eyes closed; lips shut in a line. What had happened that made the Angel so hurt? No one besides her broken heart could tell.

She played; played and played for hours. She did not stop even though her hands were aching, her throat dry and in need of water, but she could not stop. She won’t stop until she hears the ballroom door open. She can’t stop.

An unknown amount of time had passed. One hour? Two hours? Perhaps it was five. But no matter because the sound she had anticipated for so long was finally heard. The ballroom door opened slowly, almost unnoticeable. But she could hear it. She spent her days waiting for that sound; how could she not.

The one who walked towards the princess, so gracefully so ethereal was of course, Prince Howl Pendragon. The son of Y/n’s rival kingdom; her lover. Even though she watched him walk towards her, she could not stop her fingers from playing. She begged them to cease, but she no longer had the control over her being. It was all him. He had become her other half.

Only when Howl softly grabbed her hands did the music stop. “My love, I’m here.” He had whispered, tears glinting at the corner of his sapphire eyes. “You can stop.”

Y/n tried to get up from her tool to embrace her lover, but her knees gave out, making her fall. Howl had also knelt beside her, his tears no longer in his eyes; they stained his beautiful face.

Y/n wiped his tears with a smile, her voice coming out a bit hoarse. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” Howl had nodded slowly. He helped the girl, his hands so gentle and careful as if she would shatter. She just might.

“Can I ask Princess Y/n for a dance?” Howl had asked.

This question in any other situation would have been a merry, joyous one. Y/n should have declined with a ‘no’. She was breaking. Her body was weak, and maybe Howl should not have asked that too. He was not too well. His complexion was pale as a sheet, hair disheveled. But ironically, the princess agreed with a heartfelt smile. And the man with a smile, snaked his arm around her waist, gently pulling her close.

With a wave of his hand, the music Y/n had been playing yet again filled the empty ballroom, save the two of them. How did he do that? Did he learn magic? He must have. Regardless, the princess smiled as the two swayed to the music, their bodies as if melting to become one.

When they neared the end, Howl had put his head against Y/n’s shoulder, his tears seeped through her dress, soaking her soft skin. “If only, my love. If only, were I braver.” His voice breaking.

A soft sigh left Y/n’s lips, her hands caressing the back of his head lovingly. “Indeed, darling. If only…” she paused for a moment, tears blurring her vision. “…were I braver.”  

With the sunrays filling the castle, in came the innumerable voice of tourists. Their guide walked all around the ballroom, pointing out famous pieces. At last, the group stopped before a painting.

The painting was done in a simple manner. It was the expressions the figures wore that made it famous. It painted picture of Y/n, the angle being embraced by Howl Pendragon; the embrace was so tight yet so gentle, there were no sign of hurt or discomfort on Y/n’s face, all that marred their embrace were tears. The painter had painted the tears so meticulously as if they were truly crying.

“And here is the most famous couple in all of Atheria. The couple who were soulmates destined to be apart.” The tour guide had sighed heavily as if he knew them personally.

A man from the group had asked. “What does that mean? Do they not love each other? Was that a forced marriage?”

“If only that were true, their story would have been a happy one.” The guide continued. “The two of them were from rival kingdoms. They met by chance; love was inevitable. When the time came, Y/n was to be married off, she had begged her father, the King on her knees to let her get married to Howl, but he rejected the princess’s wish,” soft gasps could be heard from the group.

“But you see Howl was also set to marry Y/n and no one else; Howl’s father, unimaginably had agreed to their marriage. But before he could celebrate, news came that Princess Y/n had committed suicide in her bedroom, unable to bear being married to someone else, if not Howl. Hearing the news, Prince Howl slashed his throat in the courtroom.”

“Even in death, could they not embrace each other.”

do not steal, translate or copy my work on any other site. all belongs to yup-thats-me™️ on tumblr

[greetingfromthedead]

Vash's Moving Castle (Vash x Reader)

Plot: A strange building made up of old spaceship parts, moving around on two legs across the wasteland of the desert, it hisses and creaks and fills the heart of many with fear... That castle is home to the magnificent tech wizard Vash, infamous for both his gunmanship and for being a womanizer—or so the rumor goes in your city. You're the eldest child of a gunsmith and as such don't expect much from your future. However, your simple life takes a turn for the exciting when you're ensnared in a disturbing situation, and the mysterious tech wizard appears to rescue you.

Pairing: Vash x mostly GN Reader, occasional she/her pronouns, the use of "girl" etc from quotes directly from the movie. I tried making it completely GN, but my flu ridden brain short circuited on some very specific parts so I gave up.

Raiting: Everyone

Tags: Howl's Moving Castle style AU, no use of "y/n", Vash is a tech wizard, I have both brainrot and the flu, idk what else to put here, Howl is cute, Vash is cute, I tried my best.

Word count: 3.7k

Author's Note: Got the idea yesterday, yall seemed interested and the flu ridden brainrot I had to endure all day today was simply debilitating so I wrote a little something. I hope you like it, not sure if I will continue or not even though I have quite a few HC-s for this little AU situation.

The 6th city, May, is decorated more than usual. After all, May Day has arrived. Even though it is still early in the afternoon, the streets are bustling with people. The aroma of baked goods reaches your nose through your open window, and it makes you think about your sister, Meryl, who is working at the very popular doughnut shop on the other side of the city. She must be very busy today with the rush of customers coming in for their celebratory pastries. For you, it's a free day. Today, your little weapon's repair shop, which you inherited from your father, is closed. You decide to take advantage of the downtime and visit your sister, whom you haven't seen in a long time.

You put aside the little handgun you have been tinkering with and stand to close the window. Your little shop is situated quite high, and the workshop has the perfect view to look out over the roofs of all the other houses. Your eyes glance over the familiar sight—the scrappy buildingd made out of old spaceship parts and in the distance, you see the wide open desert. But today it is slightly different. You heard the commotion this morning when the people first noticed the addition to the landscape. With fearful and hushed voices, they talked about the monstrocity looming on the horizon and the kind of calamity it might bring.

"It is Vash's Moving Castle!" The people on the streets whispered and pointed. "Do you think the horrible Typhoon has come to lay waste to our city?"

You knew very well the rumors about the gunslinger and tech wizard named Vash the Stampede. He is said to be a ruthless demon specializing in murder and wide-scale destruction. Apparently, he kills without mercy—men, women, and children alike. He has wiped whole towns from the face of the planet, and his infamous castle is created with the sole purpose of being a weapon of mass destruction.

As you pull the window closed, you look at the mass of metal outside of town. Calling it a castle is a gross overstatement. You can't imagine how such a heap of scrap gets to be called anything so magnificent. It consists of layers upon layers of old spaceship parts, jutting out at odd angles and covered in rust and wires, its massive turrets and spires reaching towards the sky. It has two large legs underneath it, much like a tomas, that the building uses to move across the desert. This is not the first time Vash's fortress has passed by May City, and you think the excitement is unwarranted. Sure, the gunslinger has a reputation, but nothing catastrophic has happened so far. You can't help but wonder why everyone gets so worked up every time the castle passes by; he would surely go to the bank or somewhere else where he can get easy money. You are just a small shop owner; as long as you don't get in his way, it seems unlikely he would take any interest in you. He might be a womanizer, but he only has eyes for pretty girls.

You get quickly ready and close the shop. The streets are decorated with colorful ribbons, and you hear cheers coming from all over town as the annual parade begins. You have chosen a truly awful moment to try and make your way across the city, but you are determined to see Meryl. As you push through the crowded streets, you catch glimpses of the parade. People are showing off their inventions and talents. You see giant hydraulic pants marching down the street. Exo-suits and new kinds of weaponry. On other streets, you see entertainers dancing and singing in colorful costumes. Some are juggling fire, and others are performing daring acrobatics. This world truly is a marvel.

You make it to the gondolas and squeeze into one with some other people. It takes you over the winding roads, and you see the flags and market stalls lining the streets. The smell of freshly cooked food wafts up to you as you take in the sights and sounds of the bustling marketplace. May is filled with all kinds of people; for days, the sandsteamers have brought in travelers from all over, and it shows. The whole city is alive with excitement and energy.

You get off your ride on the slightly calmer side of the town, and you know the familiar route you need to take to get to the doughnut shop. The quiet side streets are nearly empty; just a few people mingle on the sidewalks. You try to avoid them as much as possible and turn to an even smaller ally as a group of drunkards head your way. You hold your breath and hope they don't notice you, looking nervously over your shoulder as you hurry along.

"Hey, it looks like a little mouse lost its way," you suddenly hear, and as you look back ahead, you see you nearly ran into a man who has just come around the corner. He is grinning mischievously, blocking your path. He is a lot taller than you, and you can see his rifle slung across his back. Surely he is a bounty hunter; you see them a lot, and with all the people flowing into town, you would think they have their hands full.

"Oh, no. I'm not lost," you say, shaking your head and recoiling a bit, leaning away from the man.

"This little mouse looks thirsty. We should take her for a cup of tea." The man continues like he didn't hear you at all. You try sidestepping him, but as you do, a second man appears from behind him. He is just as large with a big mustache, and he looks at you curiously as he leans closer, blocking your way further.

"No thanks. My sister's expecting me." You avoid looking directly at them, instead trying to think of a way to escape. They make you very uncomfortable.

"She's pretty cute for a mouse." You try to keep your cool and find a way to politely excuse yourself from the situation, but the mustashed man is leaning even closer, his face level with yours.

"How old are you anyway? You live around here?" The first guy leans toward you too. Neither of them sounds menacing, but they fill you with dread.

"Leave me alone!" you say with as much bravery as you can muster, taking a step backwards.

"You see? Your mustache scares all the girls," the first man nudges his comrade.

"So? I think she's even cuter when she's scared." the other replies, not taking his eyes off you.

"There you are, sweetheart." A different, smooth male voice speaks up behind you, capturing the gaze of the bountyhunters before you. "Sorry, I'm late. I was looking everywhere for you."

He speaks close to your left ear, and a hand gently rests on your right shoulder. It's not a voice you recognize, and his touch makes you stiffen up. Your body had been ready to run for your life, but now you find yourself sandwitched between two unknowns. Yet something about the man behind you is comforting, or maybe it's just that you see the upset glint in the eyes of the men before you.

"Hey! Hey! We're busy here!" The man you had run into first speaks and looks like he is puffing himself up to look more menacing. His companion, too, straightens his back, ready for a violent confrontation.

"Are you really? It looked to me like the two of you were just leaving." The calm voice beside you speaks with a hint of amusement. You feel him shift slightly, but you don't turn your eyes away from the bounty hunters in front of you. You see their gazes move over the man, their eyes widening at something where his left arm would be, and you see them freeze up and then nudge each other. They look very uncomfortable.

"This is not worth it," one of them whispers nervously to the other.

"Yeah, we better get going," the other answers with a whisper, and they start to shuffle away from you, back into the alley they had come from. As they get further away, their step hastens until they take off running. You watch them disappear into the darkness, wondering what caused them to have such a reaction.

"Don't hold it against them," the soft voice next to you says, and you finally turn to look at him. He is a tall young man with a soft smile on his lips. You see his pretty blue eyes behind orange tinted round glasses, and his blonde hair is about shoulder length. A tight golden hoop hangs from his left ear. He is truly very handsome, and his expression is warm and inviting. He wears a pillowy white blouse that flows down to his slender waist. A pendant hangs from his neck, and a red coat covers his shoulders, but his arms are not in the sleeves.

"They aren't actually all that bad," he says, continuing his thought from before, and his eyes capture your gaze again. "Where to? I'll be your escort this evening."

"Oh, I'm, um, just going to the doughnut shop." You pull back a little from his closeness, but feel his hand firmly on your shoulder.

"Don't get alarmed, but I'm being followed," he says, leaning closer to you. His hand moves from your shoulder and instead hooks around your arm. "Act normal."

You avert your eyes, but he ignores your awkwardness completely and starts walking along the street with your arm intertwined with his, like it's totally normal. Your body is still stiff, a slight fear lingering in the back of your mind, yet this is exciliating in a way you never expected. You find yourself surprisingly comfortable in his presence, despite the fact that he is a total stranger. His pace is somewhat brisk, but you can easily keep up. The unknown of who could be following him is a bit frightening, and you find yourself pressing into his upper arm for reassurance.

As you walk past some dark and narrow alleys, you start to suddenly hear commotion.

"There he is! Go! Hurry!" You hear shouting, and it sends a shiver up your spine. Yet the man beside you keeps the same pace and, for the moment, seems unbothered.

"Sorry. It looks like you're involved," he says calmly as you try to glance into the alleys where the commotion stems from. You see a mob of gunslingers squeeze themselves hurriedly into the narrow gap between the buildings and start to rush towards you. It is frightening to you, and you grab a tighter hold of the man's arm. Your right hand grasps his shirt, your heart pounds in fear as your body stiffens. More voices start to echo from up ahead, and a few people stumble onto your street.

"This way!" he whispers insistently, and the man pulls you into a side alley, his pace getting faster as he leads you away from the gathering crowd. You struggle to keep up with him so you have to start running, your mind racing with questions, but you hold onto him tightly, and you feel certain that everything will be alright. He keeps going faster and faster, and you can see the main street ahead, but suddenly your view gets blocked by more armed men appearing to block our path. You feel a surge of panic rising in your chest, and the reassuring hand sliters out from your weakened cluth as you have trouble holding on while you run.

"Come on!" The mystery man's voice is soft and insistent, with a hint of amusement as you feel his arm wrap around your waist, both of you running straight towards the angry looking mob. You see that some of them have drawn their guns and have them pointed straight at you, but the thundering footsteps behind you tell you that they are unlikely to shoot here in this narrow alley to avoid hitting anybody else. Your confidence in getting out of here wavers, but suddenly you are tightly pulled against the man's side, and his other hand takes yours. It feels cold and hard; you catch a glimpse of blue, but you are too distracted by the fact that your feet are no longer on the cobbled street. You rush through the air, seemingly kept up by the mysterious blonde.

Instinctively, you curl up, looking around for an explanation. The coat that covered his shoulders before hangs over his left arm, and from his back protrubes a pair of giant feathery wings. You've never seen anything like this. Is this a new invention? Has he come here to present his masterpiece to the masses during the parade? Who is this man? He has to be a brilliant inventor. Your mind is captivated by him; you want to understand his mysterious contraption, and your gaze moves along him, down his left arm, and you see it's not a real arm at all; it is made out of strange blue metal, the hand holding yours is made out of the same material. The forearm is mostly covered by his coat, but you're sure that everything from at least his elbow down is a prosthesis; the rest is hidden by the flowy sleeve. You feel his fingers move so organically that you're sure this must be lost technology. What a strange man! You've never seen anything like this.

"Now, straighten your legs and hold on tight," you hear the man say gently, and you follow his command. You relax your legs and grab tightly onto him. His strong arm around you presses you into his side, and you wrap your legs with one of his to make sure you cannot slip away from his grasp and plummet to your death.

You are still mesmerized by his wings, how large they are as they stretch out behind him, allowing him to fly effortlessly through the air. You feel a rush of adrenaline as you soar higher. The streets beneath you look so small; people are just specs moving around. You let out a gasp of amazement, and it makes the strange man chuckle. He flies you both over some rooftops, and you see the familiar doughnut shop come into view.

"You're a natural." You hear him praise you, but to you, it makes little sense; all you do is hold onto him for dear life. But you can't deny the exhilarating rush of flying through the sky. You have never felt so free. The wind whips through your hair as you soar above the city. You feel like you could touch the clouds. You relax a little bit in his grasp, hearing his feathers rustle in the wind as they allow you to glide through the air. To your surprise, very few people pay any attention to you. Most of them are too focused on the parade passing by. The ones who did notice you stared in awe, not believing their eyes or perhaps mistaking you for a worm.

You get closer and closer to the familiar shop, and you realize he is aiming for the second floor balcony. He lands gracefully on the bannister and gently guides you onto the floor, like you weigh nothing at all. His hand holds onto yours for a little longer as he bows closer.

"I'll make sure to draw them off, but wait a bit before you head back outside." His voice is low and gentle, with a soft smile dancing on his lips and in the glimmer of his eyes.

"Okay," you say, still stunned by what had just happened. Your fingers gently grip his as he straightens up and pulls his hand from you. His wings fold down behind his back and disappear before he takes his coat and drapes it over his shoulders.

"That's my girl," he says with a low and husky voice, a hint of pride in it. He smiles brightly and takes a step back, making you gasp as he falls into nothingness. You rush to peek over the railing, only to find that he has disappeared into the crowd with no hint of anyone noticing him at all, so he must be alright. You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that he is safe.

You linger on the balcony for a little while longer. It all seems too incredible to be true—almost magical. Never would you have thought something like this could happen to you; you are so used to your dull life of being the eldest, but then again, that's what it means to be a responsible and reliable older sibling. Or perhaps you have caught some nasty disease and are just imagining all this during a fever dream. Either way, you enjoyed this. The realization prods you in the side as you remember that you didn't even ask the gentleman's name. Perhaps you will get lucky and see him introducing his invention at a parade in the future. Or perhaps this encounter will just remain a peculiar memory in the back of your mind.

You turn to enter the hallway and see a wide-eyed young woman staring back at you. She is frozen, like she has seen a ghost, and she looks at you with a hint of mistrust.

"Hello," you say, trying to strike up a conversation. "I'm here to see Meryl; she's my little sister. I'm sorry to have just barged in to the staff's quarters. Could you tell her I'm here? I'm in no rush; I'll wait till she has time."

She still stares at you and seems too frozen to say anything, only giving you a stiff nod and heading downstairs, where you hear a lot of commotion. You turn back to look out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man again, but he's nowhere to be seen. The sweet smell of doughnuts and jam fills your nose as you patiently wait for your sister.

You fall deep into thought, only to be awoken by some loud running footsteps heading your way and Meryl's voice calling out your name. She rushes to you and grabs your hands, so you turn to face her.

"Meryl!" you say with slight apprehension as you see the surprise in her face.

"What's going on? Someone just told me you flew down into our balcony!" She says it with disbelief. It takes you a moment to process her words before responding.

"So that did happen. That wasn't a dream," you say with a mix of confusion and sadness. You hear a different voice speak to Meryl as you turn your gaze out the window again, not registering what they talk about. You relive everything that has happened to you within the last half hour in your head, trying to commit every detail to memory. Meryl looks at you with concern as you look away so apathetically and then drags you with her to the backrooms of the kitchen to sit down with you on some boxes in the storage room. She presses you until you open up and tell her everything about your track here and the strange man who saved you.

"Wow! He must have been an inventor then!" Meryl exclaims as you finish your story with how he disappeared into the crowd.

"But he was so kind to me. He rescued me, Meryl."

"Of course he did! He was trying to seduce you! You are so lucky! If that inventor was Vash, he would have done much worse right then and there! He is an awful womanizer!"

"No, he wouldn't. Vash only does that to beautiful girls."

"Ah, don't give me that! You need to be more careful! It's dangerous out there! Even the infamous Millions Knives is back on the prowl." She looks at the side of your face and leans closer. "Are you listening?"

But you are so consumed by your thoughts, you barely realize what she is saying. Your gaze had been fixed by a giant tub of custard.

"Huh?" You finally turn to face your sister again.

"Argh!" Meryl lets out a disgruntled sigh. You see it from her face that she's about to start lecturing you, but a young man informing her about a new batch of dougnuts being done saves you from it.

"Okay! I'll be right there!" She turns a touch more cheerfully toward the cook.

"Alright! I better get going then. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay." You stand up, ready to leave, to both avoid getting Meryl into trouble and getting an earful from her about the horrible danger that is lurking outside the city walls.

Meryl sees through you immediately but chooses not to lecture you this time on that topic. She leads you to the backdoor, where a man is carrying bags of flour.

"Now," Meryl comes close to you again. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in that gunshop?"

"The shop was just so important to father, and I'm the eldest! I don't mind." You try to keep your tone cheerful as you look into her concerned face. But deep down, you know her words stir something up.

"I'm not asking what father would have wanted. I want to know what you want," she continues insistently.

"Well," you start to answer, not sure about what to say, but the man who carried in the flour comes back to say goodbye to Meryl, and your sister turns to him to wave goodbye. You take the opportunity to start to walk away and say, "I better get going."

"It's your life! Do something for yourself for once, will you?" she says, hoping that you will finally prioritize your own happiness.

"Bye, Meryl!" you say over your shoulder with a slight smile as you head home. Your head is still filled with a million thoughts, and Meryl only added to them. Yet you are glad she seems happy with her new life after she left your family's gunshop. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever find the same peace and contentment. But it matters little; you're the eldest, and you have a duty.

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[charliedawn]

Hi Charlie, I love your stories. I was wondering how the slashers would react when the nurse decides to take care of all the studio ghibli girls.

WARNING: LONG

I couldn’t find a way to make the slashers and studio ghibli girls meet at the hospital, so I decided to imagine some of the slashers meeting them outside of the hospital. I spent a lot of time on it and I am quite proud. Enjoy. 😁

Nausicaa was surprised when she saw a shape enter the Toxic Forest and immediately thought to warn them. "Hey ! Turn back ! This way is dangerous !"

But they didn’t hear her and she had no choice but to follow them on her glider…hoping she wouldn’t be too late.

Meanwhile, Michael was completely lost.

He had seen a few weird creatures that he couldn’t recognise and so far, no human in sight…until her. Nausicaa tried to warn him about the toxic spores in the forest but, he didn’t seem to understand since said spores didn’t really affect him. Michael just kept walking and ignored her.

But then, he fell into quick sand. He tried to get out, but he was only sinking faster.

Just when he thought he was going to die that way, the strange girl threw him a rope and shouted that he needed to grab onto it. He did, and the girl attached the other end to her strange flying machine before she started pulling. After a few minutes of efforts, she finally managed to pull him out completely.

Once he was out, she landed right next to him and didn’t hesitate before running towards him to check that he was alright. When she had seen the mask first—she thought she had discovered a new kind of creature living in the forest, but she didn’t expect when said creature turned out to be human. Michael had lost his mask while he was being pulled out and looked genuinely scared as she approached. He snarled and growled like an animal when she tried to touch him. She therefore decided that no contact could be made as long as he was this angry. She then decided to make him another mask based on what she had managed to catch glimpses of.

She observed him for a few days, wondering if it was safe to approach and then, she gave him the mask. She discreetly stalked him and when he seemed about to attack her—she showed him the mask she had made.

"I do not know if you can understand me but…this is for you."

She then left the mask on the ground and slowly backed away. Michael was surprised and confused. He wondered if this was a trap before he reluctantly reached out for the mask and put it on. It was…not bad. He then started accepting her presence. She brought him food and made sure he was safe and little by little, he started to trust her. One day, Nausicaa decided it was time to bring him to the village and introduce him to the villagers.

No need to say that the villagers were quite surprised when she brought this humongous man who seemed to get straight out of their worst nightmares. The villagers stood in stunned silence as Nausicaa carefully guided Michael Myers into the village. His towering frame and eerie silence made everyone uneasy, and his mask gave no clues about his thoughts or intentions. Children hid behind their parents, and the elderly muttered prayers under their breath.

Nausicaa, however, radiated her usual calm. She raised her hands in a gesture of reassurance.

"Everyone, please, there’s no need to be afraid. He’s not dangerous…as far as I can tell." Her words didn’t exactly ease the tension, but the villagers trusted her judgment. "I found him wandering in the forest. He doesn’t seem affected by the spores, but I don’t think he belongs there."

Michael didn’t move or speak, simply standing there like a statue, his piercing eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings from behind his mask. He wasn’t one to be guided or controlled, yet something about this girl made him follow without resistance. And besides…he had lost his knife and was eager to found one as soon as possible.

An older villager finally stepped forward, frowning. "Princess Nausicaa, what if he’s a spy from another kingdom ? Or worse, a threat to us all ?"

Nausicaa shook her head and lifted a hand towards Michael. "Look at him. He doesn’t seem to understand where he is, let alone have any ill intentions. I think he’s just…lost."

She turned to Michael, tilting her head up to meet his blank gaze. "You are, aren’t you ? Lost ?"

Michael remained silent. He didn’t nod or shake his head, but there was something in the way he stood, the slight tilt of his head, that made her feel as though he agreed.

Nausicaa sighed. "We can’t just leave him out there. If he’s immune to the spores, there’s a chance he could help us study them—or at the very least, he deserves some shelter."

Reluctantly, the villagers backed off, though many kept their distance. Nausicaa led Michael to her home, where she offered him a place to rest. He stood in the doorway for a long moment before finally stepping inside.

Over the next few days, Nausicaa observed him carefully, much like she would an injured animal. Michael was unnervingly quiet, but he never showed signs of hostility. One evening, Nausicaa caught him staring at a tapestry depicting her father’s heroic deeds. She approached him cautiously.

"That’s my father," she explained softly. "He was brave, like you must be, wandering the forest alone. He taught me everything I know."

Michael turned his head slightly toward her, as if acknowledging her words.

She smiled. "You’re not so scary, you know. Underneath all that quiet, I think there’s someone who understands more than they let on."

For the first time, she thought she saw a faint glimmer of emotion in his dark eyes, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared. If she only knew what he had done in the past…she would be afraid and realise that he was the most dangerous creature she could have found in that forest…

A few days later:

Nausicaa had been curious about the towering man ever since he had arrived in her life. Despite his intimidating demeanor and eerie silence, there was a strange kindness in the way he lingered near her—never too close, but never too far. One day, Nausicaa approached him cautiously, carrying a small notebook and a stick of charcoal. She had tried speaking to him before, but he never responded—only tilting his head or staring through her with those hollow and haunting blue eyes.

"Hey…" she murmured. He didn’t react, as expected. Determined, she sat down a few feet away and gently placed the notebook on the ground between them. "I…I want to know your name," she said softly, pushing the charcoal toward him. "Can you write it down for me ?"

At first, Michael didn’t move. Nausicaa’s heart sank slightly, thinking her attempt to bridge the gap had failed. But then, slowly, he reached out. His large hand, rough and scarred, took the charcoal delicately, almost as if he feared breaking it. She watched intently as he stared at the blank page. For a moment, it seemed like he might refuse, but then he pressed the charcoal to the paper and began to write. His movements were deliberate, unhurried, as though he hadn’t done this in years.

When he finished, Nausicaa leaned closer and read the word etched in bold, uneven letters:

Michael.

A warm smile spread across her face. "Michael," she said aloud, testing the name on her tongue. "I like it."

Michael didn���t respond, but there was a subtle shift in his posture—almost imperceptible, but Nausicaa could feel it. He liked being called by his name again. It must have been a long time.

"And do you know where you came from, Michael ?"

Michael stared at the notebook in his hands for a while before finally shaking his head negatively. He…couldn’t remember. Nausicaa understood and smiled sadly.

"It’s okay. It will eventually come back to you. I am sure. And…thank you," she whispered, looking up at him with genuine gratitude. "For trusting me."

Michael’s head tilted slightly, a silent acknowledgment. And though he didn’t say a word, Nausicaa knew that this was his way of telling her that she had earned his trust.

The next day:

It started with a loud crash deep in the village. Nausicaa had been tending to her garden when she heard the commotion—panicked screams, the clamor of running feet, and the unmistakable roar of a charging Ohmu. Her heart sank. The giant insect had been agitated by something, and now it was barreling straight toward the village.

Nausicaa immediately grabbed her glider, ready to intervene. She was halfway to the chaos when she noticed Michael standing on the edge of the scene. He was still and unmoving as always, observing the chaos with an eerie calmness.

"Michael !" she called out. "Stay back ! It’s dangerous !"

Of course, he didn’t listen.

The Ohmu swerved toward her, its enormous frame crushing everything in its path and his eyes ruby red. Nausicaa froze for a split second, her instincts faltering as the creature loomed closer. Just as it was about to reach her, a shadow moved faster than her eyes could track.

Michael.

He stepped between her and the enraged Ohmu, his massive frame blocking its advance. The Ohmu screeched, its tendrils flailing as it tried to push past him, but Michael didn’t budge. He raised his hand, gripping one of the creature’s tendrils with a strength that was definitely inhuman, and yanked it back, forcing the Ohmu to recoil in confusion.

"Michael, no !" Nausicaa shouted. She knew how dangerous it was to challenge an Ohmu, how easily they could kill a human. But Michael seemed unfazed. He stood his ground and started pulling the creature back towards the forest—trying to change its course. The Ohmu lashed out again, but Michael dodged with surprising agility for someone his size. His movements were deliberate and calculated, as though he had faced threats like this before. Nausicaa’s heart hammered in her chest as she realised just how strong Michael really was. He was a powerful warrior.

Finally, Nausicaa’s voice broke through the chaos. She held up her hands in a calming gesture, stepping out from behind Michael despite her fear.

"Stop ! Please." she begged the Ohmu. "We mean you no harm !"

The creature hesitated, its rage subsiding as it sensed her sincerity. Michael remained motionless, his stance protective, until the Ohmu finally backed away and retreated into the forest. The village was silent, save for the faint sound of the Ohmu disappearing into the distance. Nausicaa turned to Michael, her heart pounding.

"You…" She struggled to find the words. "You saved us."

Michael tilted his head slightly, his mask betraying nothing, but his presence spoke volumes. He hadn’t hesitated to protect her, even at great risk to himself.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with gratitude.

Michael didn’t respond, but he stepped closer, his imposing frame reminded her of the earlier fear she had felt. For the first time, Nausicaa realized that behind the silent mask was a protector—someone who, despite his mysterious nature, cared enough to act when it mattered most and who was dangerous…dangerous enough to be considered valuable to the village. And the way he hadn’t even hesitated before defending her. She hugged him and Michael found himself hugging her back.

From that day on, the villagers looked at Michael differently. Though he still didn’t speak and rarely interacted with anyone other than the princess, his actions had earned their respect. And Nausicaa…Nausicaa started wondering if Michael even belonged to her world.

Pennywise had heard whispers about the spirit-realm spa—a mystical place where even the most tired souls could unwind. Curious, and ever drawn to new places of chaos and delight, he decided to pay a visit. Maybe he would bring Penny next time ? If it was nice enough quality and service-wise. As he stepped into the grand bathhouse, he could feel the tension in his whole being begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace that was both strange and amusing to him. He could hear the laughter of spirits mingling with the soft echo of bubbling water, the air thick with the scent of minerals and magic.

His intentions were simple: relax, take a dip, enjoy the sensation of the steamy waters, and let the spirits around him indulge in their carefree chatter.

But then, a scent cut through the tranquility.

It was faint, buried beneath the rich, earthy aroma of the baths, but it was unmistakable. A human.

Pennywise paused, eyes narrowing just slightly as he sniffed the air, his golden gaze flicking across the bathhouse. Humans weren’t common here—especially not in a realm like this. He tilted his head, a fleeting curiosity flickering behind his playful demeanor.

"How…interesting," he murmured under his breath, his lips twitching with a half-amused smile. But no matter. It wasn’t the time to entertain such distractions.

Instead, Pennywise shrugged, turning his attention back to the steaming waters. He could smell her now, faint but distinct. The human girl was tucked away somewhere, probably hiding from the spirits around her, but he had no immediate interest in her. Not yet, anyway.

His focus returned to the bath, the water swirling around him as he stepped closer. With a sigh of contentment, Pennywise slid into the large pool, the warm water enveloping his body like a comforting embrace. His colorful costume floated lazily around him. His grin stretched wider, not from hunger, but from a deep, satisfied relief. The perfect end to a long, chaotic existence.

The scent of the human was still there, lingering on the edges of his awareness. But Pennywise wasn’t in any rush to chase her down. There were far more enjoyable things in the world than chasing down a scared little human—at least for the moment. He leaned back, eyes closed, allowing the magic of the place to work its soothing wonders, content to let the moment of relaxation last just a little longer. The human could wait.

Meanwhile :

The bathhouse was a place of peace, a realm for spirits to unwind—but not for everyone. Chihiro had been running through the corridors, her footsteps echoing in the quiet spaces, desperately trying to avoid the dark spirit who had been trailing her since she stepped out of the bath. It wasn’t the first time she’d encountered something sinister in this realm, but this one was different—he felt cold, oppressive, and had a hunger in his eyes that sent chills down her spine.

She turned a corner and saw a door, cracked open just enough for her to slip inside. Without hesitation, Chihiro darted through it, her heart pounding in her chest. She shut the door behind her, breathing heavily as she crouched against the wall, praying that the dark spirit hadn’t seen her. But as she slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes went wide. The room she had stumbled into was vast, filled with an eerie glow and an unsettling stillness. And there, lounging in the warm water of an enormous bath, was Pennywise, his sharp golden eyes suddenly opening and flicking over her with mild surprise.

For a moment, there was only silence as the two of them locked eyes. Chihiro’s breath hitched, but before she could even begin to explain herself, the tears started to fall. The fear, the exhaustion, the overwhelming sense of helplessness all bubbled to the surface, and she couldn’t stop them. She wanted to, but the sobs wracked her body, choking her voice, and she sank to her knees, hugging her arms to her chest.

Pennywise watched her in a kind of detached amusement at first, his lips curving into that ever-present, unsettling grin. He hadn’t expected this—her fear was rather mouthwatering, and the human’s tears, while deliciously pleasing, weren’t exactly what he’d anticipated by deciding to come to the bathhouse for some good time.

He shifted slightly in the water, the ripples disturbing the otherwise calm surface, but something about her cries made him wince.

What was he supposed to do with this ? The sight of her broken, tears staining her face, made him…uncomfortable. Pennywise wasn’t used to this. Comfort wasn’t his forte.

He felt the oddest tug of irritation—frustration at his inability to understand this reaction—and a brief, irrational wave of guilt, something he had not felt in centuries. With a scoff, he forced it down. No, no, he wasn’t going to fall into that. She was just a human. A snack for later. But her sobs gnawed at him, and after a long moment of internal turmoil, his irritation shifted to something else. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, drawing his attention.

A dark spirit.

He could sense it, too, drawing near like a shadow creeping closer to his little human guest. Pennywise’s golden eyes flashed with sudden clarity. He straightened, a deep, unsettling calm settling over him. He sighed loudly in irritation before standing up—droplets of water dripping down his suit as he walked out of the bath.

"Ah. I see," Pennywise said, his voice low and gravelly as he looked forward, "don’t worry, little human."

He leaned forward, his smile growing predatory. "You’re not going to be bothered anymore."

The door crashed open, and there, looming in the doorway, was the dark spirit. His figure was shrouded in darkness, his eyes glowing with a malignant hunger as he saw Chihiro huddled on the floor. Pennywise stood in front of Chihiro in one smooth motion, the water splashing around him as he moved forward, his grin stretching impossibly wide. In his eyes, there was idle mockery. That…idiot had dared enter his quarters without an invitation ? How rude…Surely, no one would miss it.

"You…you don’t belong here," the spirit hissed, his voice like the sound of scraping metal.

"~Ah. Yes. You are right. I am not one of you guys. I am one special guest that probably doesn’t belong here," Pennywise purred, his tone dripping with malice as he unhurriedly walked forward—his hands in his pockets. "But you see, I’ve decided you don’t either."

In a flash, the spirit lunged, but Pennywise was faster. With a swift motion, he reached out, grabbing the dark spirit by the throat, his dark fingers cold and sharp as they wrapped around the entity’s neck. The spirit struggled, his shadowy form flickering and twisting, but Pennywise’s strength was unyielding. He pulled the creature closer, his grin widening as he leaned in.

"You’ve disturbed my rest and my pleasure. You’ve even DARED to speak to me with DISRESPECT. You have been nothing but a nuisance," Pennywise mused aloud, his voice practically humming with excitement. "And I do so hate nuisances."

With one sharp, sudden movement, Pennywise sank his teeth into the spirit’s ethereal flesh. The dark entity let out a screech, but it was cut off as Pennywise devoured him, savoring every moment. The taste was foreign—cold, bitter—but it filled him with a twisted satisfaction. The spirit’s form began to wither, dissipating into nothingness as Pennywise consumed it completely, the sounds of it vanishing into a mere whisper.

He licked his lips, wiping the remnants of the spirit’s essence from his chin as he turned his attention back to Chihiro, who had been watching with wide eyes, her tears still streaming down her face.

"Well ?" Pennywise asked, his voice smooth and sickly sweet, though it carried an edge of something far darker. His grin returned, sharp and unsettling. "I’d say that’s the end of that."

Chihiro nodded shakily, still stunned by what she’d witnessed, her sobs subsiding. She couldn’t find the words to thank him—or even speak at all. She only stared at him, a mix of fear and gratitude in her eyes.

Pennywise tilted his head, his golden eyes twinkling with a strange playful amusement. "Don’t worry, little human. I won’t hurt you. I am not that hungry. Now, go. Run along..."

Chihiro didn’t need to be told twice and quickly stood up on shaky legs and ran out of the room. Pennywise’s eyes followed her until she was out of sight and they chuckled. Well, he would have to see what the consequences of his little overstepping. He hoped Yubaba would overlook it, but he was certain the old hag was already aware and was on her way to talk his ears off…What a pain.

He smirked.

But oh did he LOVE trouble.

And sure enough, Yubaba stormed into the hall-room at dinner, her footsteps loud and heavy, her eyes blazing with fury. "Sen !" she barked, immediately drawing Chihiro’s attention. The older witch’s gaze scanned the room, landing on the young girl with a mixture of annoyance and suspicion. She then used her magic to bring the girl along as they walked out of the dinner room to have some privacy. Once they were alone, Yubaba unleashed her fury and started yellong. "What is this nonsense I’m hearing about a...Pennywise ?!" Yubaba’s voice was thick with irritation. "That…thing is roaming my bathhouse ?"

Chihiro stood frozen for a moment, the gravity of Yubaba’s presence making her heart race. She quickly wiped her face, her tears still fresh from earlier. "Yubaba, please—" she started, her voice faltering, but she stood tall and met Yubaba’s eyes. Yubaba wasn’t having it. Her hands were on her hips, her face twisted in anger. "No, no, Sen ! What is going on here ? Do you know what that thing is ? He’s a man and spirit eater ! A cannibal ! Capable of devouring his own keen and incapable of self-restraint ! And YOU provoked it ?!" Yubaba spat the last words as if they tasted sour. "How could you ask that thing for help in my own bathhouse ?! Do you have any idea how dangerous that monster is ?! And you dared feed him one of my clients, you insolent little girl ! I ought to change you into a pig for that !"

Chihiro took a deep breath, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. "Your guest was going to hurt me. And it didn’t do anything wrong. Pennywise...protected me from the dark spirit. It was attacking me, and Pennywise made it go away. If it wasn’t for it, I would be dead, Madam Yubaba."

Yubaba’s brow furrowed as she looked down at the girl, her disbelief obvious at the girl’s guts to speak to her like that. "You think I’m going to let some...thing like that stay here just because it helped you ? This is my bathhouse, Sen. And it follows my rules ! That thing must be gone ! Tonight !"

"But it saved me. You would have been down one employee if it wasn’t for Pennywise," Chihiro insisted, her voice growing more confident. "It didn’t even try to hurt me. It even saved you from having to find another employee or having to deal with the dark spirit yourself."

Yubaba’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the girl, her mind whirring. "Sen," she said, her tone lowering in warning, "you have no idea what you’re dealing with. It eats spirits ! I won’t allow such a thing to roam freely in my bathhouse. What if it eats another one of my guests ? What if it decides it is hungry for more !"

Chihiro bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to explain more, but Yubaba’s refusal to listen to her was becoming more and more clear. "It won’t hurt anyone again," Chihiro repeated softly, stepping forward. "I promise."

Yubaba took a deep breath, her lips curling in frustration. "You are too gullible, Sen. Pennywise is a manipulator and a liar. You can’t let him—"

"Well well well, if it isn’t my old friend Yubaba herself," Pennywise’s voice interrupted, smooth and cold as he appeared in the doorway, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light and a large grin on his face.

Yubaba’s gaze snapped to him, her eyes flaring. "You !" She hissed, raising a trembling finger in warning. "Stay away from my bathhouse, you vile—"

"Calm down, old hag," Pennywise sneered, his grin widening as he casually strolled into the room. He didn’t seem phased by Yubaba’s outburst in the slightest. "I’m not here to cause trouble. But if someone needs to be dealt with, I’m happy to help."

Chihiro watched the exchange, her heart racing. She had expected Yubaba to be furious, but the scene unfolding before her was still unsettling. Yubaba’s temper was legendary, and Pennywise wasn’t making it any easier. Yubaba’s face was turning a shade of red that only came with true rage. She was about to say something scathing when Chihiro quickly stepped in between them.

"Yubaba, please. Just give him a chance," Chihiro pleaded, her voice cracking slightly from the emotion she was feeling. "He’s not going to hurt anyone. I will see to it. I promise you."

Yubaba’s eyes locked onto Chihiro’s, a dangerous glint in them. "I do not believe you can make such a promise, Sen. Not with that one," she said, her voice low and threatening as her eyes glared at him. "But I will allow him to stay...for now. He is a good-paying customer after all…But…If it causes any more problems, I’ll be the one to deal with it. Got it ?"

Chihiro nodded quickly, relief flooding her chest. She turned to look at Pennywise, who was smirking at Yubaba’s irritation, clearly enjoying the tension he’d caused.

"Thank you, Yubaba," Chihiro whispered, stepping away from the confrontation.

Pennywise, for his part, gave a playful wink, clearly unbothered by the turn of events. "Don’t worry, little human. That wicked old witch knows she has no power over me. If she tried anything…" Pennywise’s eyes glowed yellow as he looked menacingly at Yubaba and growled "…she knows I would be eating her next."

Yubaba shot Pennywise one last glare before storming off, muttering to herself. As the door slammed shut, the room finally fell silent, and Chihiro let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Pennywise turned to her, his grin widening. "Thanks for that, kid. For now, I guess I’ll stick around...and maybe see how long it takes before they realise I’m the real entertainment around here."

Chihiro couldn’t help but laugh weakly, her body still trembling from the earlier scare. "I don’t know about that...but thank you for saving me."

Pennywise winked at her once more.

"No problem, kiddo. If you need anything else ? Call me." And with that, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. And as strange as it seemed, in that moment, Chihiro felt a little safer—because, in a world as odd and unpredictable as this one, Pennywise’s twisted form of protection was better than none at all.

A few days later:

Pennywise stood by the window, his eyes glowing in the dim light, watching the world outside with an unsettling calmness. The room was quiet except for the occasional creak of the building. Chihiro stood near the door, her hands holding her dinner. She knew it wasn’t the souls of spirits or anything like that—but she wondered if Pennywise would like some. Pennywise’s glowing eyes narrowed as he sniffed the plate Chihiro held out to him. His sharp features twisted into something almost resembling curiosity before his lips curled into a faint sneer.

"What is this ?" he asked, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and disdain. "Rice and vegetables ?"

Chihiro hesitated, her grip tightening on the plate. "Yes. I thought you might like it. I made it myself."

Pennywise leaned closer, his nose nearly touching the plate as he inhaled deeply. The room grew colder as his eyes flashed with a sharp, predatory glint. He pulled back abruptly, his grin wide and unsettling, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.

"Little Sen," he drawled, his tone both mocking and amused, "you’re sweet, but do you really think this will satisfy me ? I need more...substance. Something with a bit of life in it."

Chihiro blinked, her nervousness giving way to confusion. "But it’s food," she said, almost defensively. "It’s nourishing."

Pennywise’s grin widened, his teeth glinting in the dim light. "To you, maybe. But to me ? This is nothing more than empty filler." He placed a clawed finger on the plate, tilting it slightly so the rice and vegetables shifted. "Where’s the blood ? The raw, wriggling morsels ? You wouldn’t offer a wolf a salad, would you ?"

Pennywise leaned down slightly, his tall frame towering over her, the shadows around him seeming to bend with his movement. He sniffed the air above the plate once more, his nose wrinkling slightly.

"No blood," he murmured, his voice carrying an edge of disappointment. His glowing eyes flicked back to her, narrowing. "No flesh. No… life…You would like me to starve, little one ?"

Chihiro blinked, startled. "No ! That’s not what I…I—I didn’t think you’d need that. I just thought—"

He straightened, chuckling darkly. "Oh, little Sen, you don’t know what I need." His grin widened, revealing his razor-sharp teeth. "But I suppose the thought counts for something."

Chihiro shifted nervously, feeling a pang of guilt. "I didn’t mean to offend you. I just thought—"

"You thought I could eat this," he interrupted, his voice playful but cutting. "And I appreciate your effort, truly. But without meat, without the essence of something living, this…" He gestured to the plate with a clawed finger, "...is just a game."

Chihiro hesitated, then set the plate down on a nearby table. "I’m sorry," she said softly. "I didn’t know."

Pennywise watched her, his grin softening into something almost amused. "You’re lucky you’re amusing, little one. Otherwise…" He didn’t finish the sentence, his teeth gleaming as he chuckled.

Chihiro took a small step back but managed to hold her ground. "I’ll do better next time," she said firmly, though her heart raced.

His glowing eyes followed her every movement, and for a moment, there was silence between them. Then, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. "Run along, Sen. Perhaps one day, you’ll bring me something truly satisfying."

As she turned to leave, he called after her, his voice dripping with dark humor. "And next time…make sure it bleeds."

Chihiro’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she stopped as she mumbled. "I didn’t know. I just wanted to thank you."

For a moment, Pennywise said nothing, his glowing eyes studying her intently. Then he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Gratitude," he mused and tilted his head, "a curious thing. I suppose I should appreciate the effort. Thank you, little Sen…Now, go. Leave. Before I…"

He suddenly howled in pain and held his stomach. He was so…HUNGRY. Pennywise’s chuckle morphed into a low growl as he clutched his stomach, doubling over slightly. The dim glow of his eyes flickered, and for the first time, Chihiro saw fear in the clown’s eyes.

"HUNGRY," he hissed, his voice jagged and guttural. His claws gripped at his abdomen as though trying to stave off an unbearable, gnawing pain. Chihiro froze, unsure whether to stay or run. She had never seen him like this before.

"Pennywise ?" she called tentatively, her voice wavering. His head snapped up, his glowing eyes narrowing on her with an intensity that made her heart leap into her throat. "LEAVE," he snarled, his teeth bared, his voice a strained growl. "Before I…before I…take YOU."

Chihiro stepped back, but something in her refused to flee. "You’re starving," she whispered as she understood. "There must be something I can do to help…"

"HELP ?" he spat, staggering forward, his elongated fingers clutching at the edge of the table. The plate of food she’d brought sat untouched, mocking him with its lack of sustenance. "Unless you’ve got a fresh, beating heart hidden in your little apron, there’s NOTHING you can do."

Her mind raced. "What about—"

"DON’T," he growled, his voice echoing with menace. But there was a crack in his tone, a tremor that betrayed how close he was to losing control. Chihiro swallowed hard and placed herself between him and the door. "What if…I find something for you ? Something that will help."

Pennywise laughed, but it was a bitter, hollow sound. "And where will you find prey in a place like this, little Sen ? If I eat another spirit Yubaba will surely kick me out, the mortals are far. You can’t even hunt a fly, let alone—" He doubled over again, groaning, the sound reverberating through the room.

"I’ll figure it out !" she blurted, surprising even herself.

Pennywise’s glowing eyes locked onto hers, filled with equal parts hunger and disbelief. "Why ?" he rasped. "Why do you care if I starve ? You should be running, little one, not…not offering to help me."

Chihiro hesitated. Why did she care ? She didn’t have a clear answer, but seeing him in this state—powerful yet pitiful—stirred something in her.

"Because you helped me," she finally said. "And I’m not going to let you suffer."

For a moment, Pennywise stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a weak chuckle, he leaned back against the wall. "Brave little Sen," he murmured, his voice softening despite the agony etched into every word. "Go, then. But hurry. Before I forget to be merciful."

Chihiro nodded, her resolve hardening as she dashed out of the room, her heart pounding in her chest. She ran through the bathhouse corridors, her bare feet slapping against the damp wooden floors. Her mind raced. What could she possibly find to sate Pennywise’s hunger ? She had no raw meat, no prey to offer. Even if she did, she wasn’t sure if she could stomach giving it to him—much less hunt for it herself.

But she had to try. He had saved her before, and she couldn’t abandon him now. As she turned a corner, she nearly collided with Lin.

"Hey ! Watch it, kid !" Lin snapped, catching her by the shoulders. "What’s gotten into you ? You look pale."

Chihiro hesitated, unsure how much to tell her. "Pennywise. The…customer of room 8 is…he’s starving," she finally admitted. "I need to find something—anything—to help him."

Lin frowned, her arms crossing over her chest. "Starving ? That clown doesn’t look like the type to go hungry. What does he even eat ?"

Chihiro’s face paled. "Raw meat," she whispered.

Lin groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Of course he does. Great. Just great. Look, you’re not going to find anything like that around here, not with Yubaba running this place. The kitchen’s all vegetables and spirit food."

Chihiro’s shoulders slumped. "Then what do I do ?"

Lin sighed, her sharp eyes softening slightly. "If you’re dead set on helping him, there’s one place you can try."

"Where ?"

"The riverbank," Lin said, gesturing toward the window. "If you’re lucky, you might find some fish he can…uh, snack on."

Chihiro nodded. "Thank you, Lin."

"Be careful," Lin called after her. "That guy gives me the creeps, but I wouldn’t want him turning on you."

Chihiro didn’t answer, already sprinting toward the bathhouse entrance. The rain was still pouring when she stepped outside, soaking her within seconds. The air was cold, and the ground beneath her feet was slick with mud, but she pressed on, her determination unwavering.

When she reached the riverbank, the water was raging, swollen from the storm. She scanned the area, her eyes darting between the reeds and the rocks. At first, there was nothing. Just the sound of the rain and the rushing water.

She scanned the area desperately, hoping to find something—anything—that could help ease Pennywise’s hunger.

And then, she saw it.

Near a group of rocks, she spotted a glint in the water. Faint but unmistakable. Her eyes widened in recognition. It was a fish, a large, struggling creature that was being swept along by the current. Without thinking, Chihiro stepped into the water, ignoring the chill that crept up her legs as the river rushed past her. She reached out with both hands, trying to grab the fish before it slipped away.

Her fingers brushed against its slippery scales before she managed to grab it firmly, pulling it from the water with a victorious gasp.

The fish was alive but weak, its gills fluttering as it gasped for breath. It wasn’t raw meat like Pennywise might have preferred, but it was still something—something she could offer to him. With the fish cradled carefully in her hands, Chihiro hurried back to the bathhouse, her heart pounding. The rain pelted her relentlessly, but she refused to slow down. Pennywise was waiting, and she had to get back to him before he—

She ran inside and shoved the door of his room open, stepping inside to find it eerily silent. Pennywise was lying on the floor, his body tense and trembling from hunger. His eyes, dim and almost lifeless, flickered toward her as she entered.

"I—I brought something," Chihiro said, her voice shaking slightly as she knelt beside him and held out the fish. It wriggled in her hands, its scales shimmering in the dim light.

Pennywise’s gaze locked onto the fish, and for a long moment, there was only silence. Chihiro held her breath, unsure how he would react. Then, slowly, he sat up, his face dark and hungry. Without a word, Pennywise reached forward, his hand almost too fast to follow, and snatched the fish from her hands. His sharp teeth sank into the soft flesh, tearing it apart in seconds. The hunger in his eyes, the way he devoured it so eagerly, was both unsettling and mesmerizing.

As he finished the fish, his expression relaxed slightly. The glow in his eyes returned and Chihiro watched him silently, relief flooding her chest.

"You…you’re welcome," she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if he heard her.

Pennywise turned his head toward her, his gaze softening for just a moment. "You… brought me food." His voice was low and thoughtful. "You are an odd little one, Sen."

Chihiro smiled weakly, trying to hold back the exhaustion that was creeping up on her. "I do my best," she said, sitting down beside him—exhausted after her late fishing experience.

Pennywise studied her for a moment, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. The tension in the room seemed to ease as the storm outside began to subside, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Chihiro allowed herself to relax, even if just for a moment. She had done something good today.

And in this strange, dark place, that was enough. She unconsciously fell asleep and Pennywise stared at her. He could eat her. She was the perfect prey and he doubted Yubaba would mind all that much…but…

He stared at her and remembered the time when he was human and had a little sister. Sen was making him think of her. He finally sighed in defeat.

"Troublesome little—"

He picked her up and laid her down on his mattress before looking out. The fish was good but…it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him for long. He needed more. He opened the window and jumped out—heading towards the river to go on his own fishing trip.

The next day, Yubaba would receive a letter informing her that the fishermen had been unable to retrieve enough fish to feed all the customers that night and that she would have to import…

"…PENNYWISE !"

Jason’s large, hulking frame stood motionless, hidden behind the thick trees of the forest as he watched a girl with short hair and red tattoos kneel beside a great white wolf. Her fingers gently pulled at an arrow lodged in the creature’s side, her expression intense and focused. She was covered in dirt and scratches, her clothes a mix of furs and worn fabrics, clearly accustomed to the wild. The girl had a presence about her that matched the wildness of the forest—untamed, fierce, and not easily intimidated. Her wolf companion growled softly, but she murmured something calming in response, the low growl subsiding as she continued her task. She then started sucking the blood out—in case the arrowheads had been coated with poison.

Jason's instincts immediately told him that this girl was no ordinary human. The connection between her and the wolf was undeniable, as though they shared the same spirit, the same wild nature. He stepped forward, the sound of his boots crunching on the leaves giving him away.

The girl’s head whipped around, her dark eyes narrowing suspiciously as she caught sight of him. Her hand instinctively reached for the spear at her feet. The wolf, sensing her tension, bared its teeth in warning.

"Who are you ?" she demanded, her voice sharp and demanding.

Jason did not respond. He never did. He simply stood there, a towering figure clad in a tattered mask and soaked in a perpetual, haunting silence. The girl studied him with intense, wary eyes. Her fingers tightened around the spear’s shaft, but she did not use it yet. Her wolf, sensing the same strange energy around him, kept its distance but did not seem to view him as an immediate threat.

Jason's head tilted slightly, his gaze flickering curiously from the girl to the wolf. He had never seen these two in his forest before.

The girl slowly lowered her spear but kept it ready, her eyes still locked on Jason. "You’re not from here," she said quietly, her voice softer now, though still wary. "What do you want ?"

Jason’s silence was deafening, but his presence seemed to say it all. He had no need for words. His intentions were difficult to read, and perhaps that was what unsettled her the most. The white wolf growled again, but this time it was more cautious, its glowing eyes fixed on the man, waiting to see what he would do next.

The girl, seeing that the situation was not turning immediately violent, relaxed her stance just a fraction. Whoever the stranger was, he didn’t seem to be coming from the village up the hill. "I’m San," she introduced herself, her eyes still narrowed, "and this is Moro, the wolf goddess. We protect these woods, and you’ve wandered into our territory."

Jason’s gaze flickered toward the wolf, then back to San, still unyielding. He wasn't one to engage in conversation, but he knew that she was telling the truth. Or if she didn’t, she seemed nice enough. He took a step forward, his massive form casting a long shadow over the riverbank, and his eyes never leaving San’s.

San tensed again, ready for any sign of hostility. But, instead of striking, Jason did something unexpected: he knelt down, slowly and deliberately, lowering himself to the earth with a strange reverence. His towering figure loomed over her, yet his actions spoke of a respect, an acknowledgment of her strength and her role in this forest.

San's eyes softened, and the tension that had held her so rigid melted slightly. She relaxed her grip on her spear, though she kept it close. The wolf beside her seemed to sense the shift and lowered its own defensive posture, though it still kept a careful eye on Jason.

Jason stared at the girl, his dark, emotionless eyes meeting her wild, defiant ones. He wasn’t sure why, but something about her—about this place—made him feel a pull, a connection he couldn’t understand. The forests and creatures that lived within them, the untamed wilds—perhaps this was where he truly belonged, where the violence within him didn’t need to be the only thing that defined him.

San tilted her head, sensing the change in the air. "You’ve come to the wrong place if you seek to fight. But," she said, her voice steady, "if you mean no harm, then perhaps we can find some common ground."

The wolf, Moro, finally lowered her head, a sign of acceptance, and San slowly relaxed, though she still watched him carefully. Her next words were spoken with a guarded calmness.

"You’re free to stay…for now. But remember, this forest has its own rules. And we protect it with everything we have."

Jason slowly nodded, his gaze never leaving San. If her goal was to protect the forest…then he would protect her.

A few days later:

The forest was eerily still, the calm before an inevitable storm. San stood atop a rocky outcrop, her piercing gaze scanning the trees as Moro and her two wolf siblings growled low, their ears pinned back in warning. Something was coming—something unnatural, something dangerous. The birds had fled, the usual hum of life in the forest silenced by the oncoming threat.

Then they came.

A horde of boars, their tusks gleaming and their eyes wild with rage, thundered through the trees. But these were no ordinary creatures; their bodies were grotesque, twisted, and darkened by a foul corruption. Black tendrils of something unnatural oozed from their bodies, and their movements were erratic, like puppets controlled by a malicious force.

San tightened her grip on her spear, her heart pounding in her chest. She had fought creatures like this before, but the sheer number of them was overwhelming. Moro snarled, stepping protectively in front of her daughter, while the two younger wolves flanked them, growling menacingly at the boars. But, it didn’t seem to reach them.

The first boar broke through the treeline, charging with a deafening roar. San braced herself, preparing to leap into the fray, when suddenly, a massive figure appeared from the shadows of the forest.

Jason.

His towering frame stood like an unyielding wall between the oncoming horde and San’s family. In his hand was a crude but deadly machete, its blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. He didn’t hesitate. As the first boar lunged at him, Jason swung the machete with terrifying force, cleaving the creature in two. Black ichor sprayed across the ground, but Jason didn’t flinch. Another boar charged, and Jason met it head-on, grabbing it by the tusks and snapping its neck with an unnatural strength.

San stared in stunned silence for a moment before snapping back to reality. "Mother ! Stay with the pups !" she commanded as she joined the fight, her spear finding its mark in the throat of a corrupted boar.

Jason moved like an unstoppable force, his machete cutting through the horde with brutal efficiency. His silent fury was unmatched, every swing of his blade a testament to his relentless determination. Despite his violent methods, there was a strange sense of purpose in his actions—he wasn’t just fighting for himself. He was protecting them.

The wolves fought alongside him, their powerful jaws tearing into the corrupted creatures. San moved with agility and precision, her spear a blur as she struck down one boar after another. But the horde seemed endless, and for every creature they felled, two more took its place. At one point, San found herself cornered, three boars charging at her from different angles. Her heart raced, but before she could react, Jason was there. He threw himself between her and the boars, his massive body acting as a shield. One boar's tusks grazed his arm, but he didn’t falter. With a powerful swing, he dispatched all three creatures in a single motion.

San’s breath caught as she stared at him. He turned to her, his mask streaked with black ichor, and gave a small, imperceptible nod. It wasn’t a request for thanks—it was an unspoken assurance: I’ve got your back.

The battle raged on, but Jason’s presence turned the tide. One by one, the corrupted boars fell until the remaining creatures, sensing their defeat, retreated into the dark forest. The silence that followed was deafening. San stood panting, her spear still gripped tightly in her hand. Moro and the other wolves surveyed the area, their bodies tense and ready for any lingering threats. Jason remained still, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath.

San approached him cautiously, her expression unreadable. She studied him for a moment before speaking. "You didn’t have to do that," she said softly, her voice carrying both gratitude and curiosity.

Jason tilted his head slightly, his mask hiding any expression he might have. He didn’t respond—he never did—but his actions had spoken louder than words ever could.

San sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you," she said, her tone sincere. "You’ve earned the forest’s trust…and mine."

Moro approached then, her massive form looming beside San. The wolf goddess stared at Jason, her dark eyes piercing and wise. After a long moment, she lowered her head slightly—a gesture of respect.

"Thank you, friend."

But then, the adrenaline that had fueled Jason finally began to wane. His broad shoulders sagged, and he dropped his machete, the blade sinking slightly into the soft earth. Blood—both black ichor and his own—streaked his arms and chest. A particularly deep gash on his side seeped red, staining his tattered shirt.

Jason staggered, his knees buckling, and before he could stop himself, he collapsed onto the ground, one massive hand bracing against the dirt to keep him from falling completely.

San’s eyes widened. She rushed to his side, dropping her spear as she knelt beside him. "Hey !" she called, her voice sharp with concern. "You’re hurt."

Jason didn’t respond, but his labored breathing and the slight tremble in his body told her enough. His mask turned slightly in her direction, as if he was trying to assure her he was fine, but the wound on his side was deep, and even he couldn’t ignore the toll the battle had taken.

Moro approached cautiously, her golden eyes narrowing as she sniffed the air. "He fought bravely," the wolf goddess rumbled. "But he’s not invincible."

San bit her lip, frustration and worry flickering across her face. "We can’t leave him like this." She looked to Jason, her voice softening. "You saved us…Now it’s our turn to help you."

Jason didn’t resist as San carefully examined his wound. Her hands, calloused from years of survival, worked quickly and efficiently. She tore a strip from her own cloak and pressed it against the bleeding gash, applying as much pressure as she could to stem the flow of blood. Moro’s younger wolves hovered nearby, their ears flicking nervously as they watched. "Will he survive, Mother ?" one of them asked, his voice tinged with worry.

"He’s strong," Moro replied. "But strength alone won’t heal him. We must take him to safety."

With Moro’s help, San managed to get Jason onto the wolf goddess’s broad back. It was a struggle—his massive frame was heavy, and his silence made it impossible to tell just how much pain he was in—but they managed.

"Hold on," San murmured as she steadied him. "We’ll get you somewhere safe."

The wolves led the way through the forest, their movements cautious and their senses on high alert. San stayed close to Moro, her hand resting lightly on Jason’s arm to keep him steady.

By the time they reached a hidden glade deep within the forest, Jason was barely conscious. San worked quickly, gathering herbs and clean water from a nearby stream. Moro lay down carefully, allowing Jason to slide gently onto the soft grass.

"You saved my family," San said quietly as she began to clean his wound. "I won’t let you die now."

For the first time, Jason’s hand moved, weakly gripping the edge of her cloak. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell her he understood.

San’s heart clenched as she worked with hurried but careful precision, crushing herbs into a paste and applying them to Jason’s wound. His grip on her cloak loosened, his strength waning, but his masked face remained turned towards her.

Moro watched silently, her great head resting on her paws. The younger wolves paced nearby, their ears flicking nervously at the faint sounds of the forest. The threat of more corrupted creatures lingered, and they all knew it.

"You can’t die now," San muttered, her voice firm but tinged with desperation. She tied the herbs in place with a strip of her cloak, her hands trembling slightly. "You fought for us. For my family. That means you’re part of it now."

Moro rumbled softly. "He is no ordinary man, San. The way he fought, the way he endures—he is tied to something beyond death. But even the strongest can fall."

San frowned, brushing her hair out of her face as she leaned closer to Jason. "Then we won’t let him fall." She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the faint rise and fall of his breathing. "You hear that ? You don’t get to give up now, stranger."

Jason’s fingers twitched, a slight movement that made San’s determination harden.

The night deepened, the forest growing quieter as the group remained in the hidden glade. San stayed by Jason’s side, ensuring his wounds stayed clean and the bleeding had stopped. Moro occasionally shifted to scan the area, her presence a watchful shield over them all.

As dawn broke, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft golden glow over the glade. Jason stirred, his massive frame shifting slightly against the grass.

San, who had dozed off sitting beside him, jerked awake at the movement. She leaned closer, her eyes searching his masked face. "You’re awake,” she said softly, relief flooding her voice.

Jason slowly sat up and San reached out instinctively to steady him.

"Careful," she whispered. "You’re not fully healed yet."

Moro rose to her feet, her eyes meeting Jason’s. "You survived. You are stronger than I expected."

Jason nodded slightly, a gesture of thanks—or perhaps acknowledgment.

San smiled faintly, exhaustion and gratitude written across her face. "You saved us," she said. "And I meant what I said. You’re part of this family now."

The younger wolves crept closer, their wariness replaced by tentative curiosity. One of them sniffed Jason’s arm, then wagged his tail slightly, a rare show of acceptance.

"You’ll stay with us, won’t you ?" San asked, her tone hopeful.

Jason didn’t respond, but the way he slowly got to his feet, standing tall despite his injuries, seemed to answer for him. He wasn’t leaving—not yet.

Moro inclined her head. "Then it’s settled. You fought for this forest. Now it will protect you, as you have protected it."

San stepped closer, looking up at him with a rare softness in her eyes. "Thank you," she said again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jason tilted his head, the faintest tilt of his mask conveying an unspoken bond between them.

In the heart of the forest, among its wolves and its wildness, Jason Voorhees had found a place where he could belong—a place where his silent strength could stand for something more than fear.

Brahms Heelshire was wandering through the woods surrounding the village, the trees casting long shadows in the fading light of day. His mind was lost in thoughts, fingers absentmindedly tracing the cracks and edges of the porcelain doll mask he wore. He never ventured far, staying close to the boundaries of the secluded mansion he called home, but today, something had drawn him further.

It was then he heard it—a voice singing, light and carefree, drifting through the trees like a soft melody. Curious, Brahms followed the sound, moving stealthily as always, until he found the source.

There, standing in a small clearing, was a young girl, no older than sixteen. Her hair, black as night, fluttered in the breeze. She hummed a tune under her breath to her black cat, completely unaware of the figure watching her from the shadows.

Brahms felt a strange pull as he observed her. He had never seen anyone like her before—she was vibrant and alive, a stark contrast to his lonely existence. The girl, he would soon learn that her name was Kiki, was a witch in training, floating above the ground on her broomstick as she trained on his family’s lands. He observed her for a few days.

One day as she landed, Brahms stepped forward from the darkness, his movements slow and deliberate. Kiki, startled by the sudden presence, spun around, her eyes wide with caution. The cat hissed at him and he took a step back.

"Who...Who are you ?" Kiki asked, clutching her broom tightly, though there was uncertainty in her voice. Brahms said nothing at first, his head tilting slightly as he observed her more closely. His masked face gave little away, but there was an odd intensity in his gaze. He stepped closer, but not too close. There was something about Kiki that intrigued him—her fearlessness, her light, and innocence.

"I am...Brahms," he muttered softly, his voice low and almost inaudible. The wind swept through the clearing, making the moment feel eerily quiet.

Kiki eyed him cautiously, still standing a safe distance away. "Brahms ? You don’t look like someone I should know...What are you doing out here in the woods all on your own ?"

Brahms, never one to engage much in conversation, simply shrugged, the silence between them stretching. The sound of distant birds filled the air, but Brahms remained rooted to his spot, his eyes fixed on Kiki.

"You...are not afraid of me ?" he asked quietly, his voice tinged with curiosity. Most people would have run by now, terrified by his presence. The strange figure, dressed in a mask and shadowed by a lifetime of solitude, was enough to send anyone fleeing. But Kiki... she simply stood there, her brow furrowed, wondering what he was about.

Kiki hesitated for a moment before smiling, though it was cautious, as if testing the waters. "I’m a witch-in-training," she declared with a light laugh. "I’m not afraid of weird stuff. I see strange things all the time. Like my flying broom, or my spooky powers. You’re...not so scary."

Brahms’ gaze softened slightly, though he quickly masked the fleeting emotion. He could never let anyone too close. But something in Kiki’s words made him feel...human, like a forgotten part of himself was being acknowledged.

"I see," Brahms replied, his voice even quieter now. Kiki took a tentative step forward, her broom tucked under one arm. "Are you lost ? You don’t seem like you’re from around here."

"I...live up…in the mansion. I don’t go many places," Brahms responded, almost sheepishly, though his mask hid the subtle discomfort. "I stay where it’s quiet."

The wind whispered between them, the distant sound of birds calling fading away into the background as they stood in the clearing. Kiki tilted her head, considering his words.

"Well, I guess everyone needs some quiet sometimes," she said thoughtfully. "But, um...if you ever want to come into town, I could show you around. Maybe you’ll find something you like. It’s not all that bad, you know ?"

Brahms looked at her for a long moment, feeling the weight of her words. The offer was so casual, so kind, and yet...he knew the world was not a place meant for him. Still, there was something about Kiki that made him wonder what it would be like to leave the shadows, to see what lay beyond the forest and the mansion that kept him trapped.

"Perhaps...one day," Brahms murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kiki nodded with a smile, her eyes bright with optimism. "Alright, Brahms. Maybe one day."

With that, she turned and took off into the sky on her broom. Brahms stood still for a while, watching her fly away, before slowly disappearing back into the woods, his thoughts heavy but strangely lighter than before.

Maybe…he could try going to the village from time to time ?

A week later:

Brahms was cautiously making his way into the village, moving silently through the alleyways and shadows, his mask and disheveled appearance enough to make people wary. He had never been to the village since he was a real kid, never felt the need to venture beyond the boundaries of the forest and his mansion. But today, something had drawn him there—an inexplicable feeling that maybe, just maybe, he could find something outside the loneliness he had known so far.

However, the moment he stepped into the village square, he realized how wrong he had been.

Laughter erupted as soon as people noticed him. A group of children pointed and giggled, calling him names—monster, freak, scary man. Some of the older villagers whispered behind their hands, their eyes full of judgment and fear. Brahms, already uncomfortable in his own skin, felt his chest tighten with anxiety. He had never been so exposed, never been the subject of public mockery like that. It was a feeling so foreign to him that he couldn’t even find the words to respond.

His mind raced, and he quickly started backing away, turning towards the nearest alley, desperate to escape the ridicule. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong anywhere. All he wanted was to leave and return to the safety of his mansion, where no one could look at him like that ever again.

But before he could retreat into the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Hey! What's going on here ?"

Brahms froze, recognizing the voice instantly. He turned, his heart skipping a beat, and saw Kiki walking forward. She stood in front of him, blocking his path, her expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"Leave him alone !" Kiki’s voice rang out, and the villagers paused, startled by her sudden appearance. The children stopped laughing, unsure of what to make of the situation. A few of the adults muttered in confusion, but Kiki didn’t back down.

"What's your problem with him ?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the crowd.

One of the older men, who had been part of the mocking group, spoke up. "Look at him ! He’s...he's not normal. He’s the Heelshire cursed kid ! I used to work for his folks back in the day and he got crazy ! He set fire to the damn mansion and killed a girl !"

Kiki raised an eyebrow, her eyes never leaving the man. "He was a kid. Maybe he changed ? Won’t you give him a chance ?"

Brahms stood frozen behind her, still feeling the weight of the villagers' stares, but there was something about Kiki’s words that made him feel...less small. Less invisible. Less bad about his past…

"He’s just visiting me," Kiki continued, her voice steady. "He didn’t ask for your judgment. You’ve got no right to treat him this way."

One of the children, emboldened by the protection Kiki offered, spoke up. "But he’s creepy. He looks like he’ll hurt us."

Kiki sighed and shook her head. "You don’t get to decide that. You don’t know him. None of you do." She turned her attention to Brahms, her gaze softening. "…Will you hurt anyone ?"

He shook his head frantically and Kiki smiled. Brahms looked at her, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years—gratitude. She was standing up for him. For him. He felt the fear, the tension in his chest slowly easing, though it wasn’t completely gone. He had never been defended like this before, and it made him feel happy and safe.

The villagers exchanged uncomfortable glances, realizing they were not going to get the reaction they had hoped for. One by one, they began to disperse, grumbling under their breath but backing away from the confrontation.

Kiki stood tall, her broom still in her hand and grinned at Brahms. "See ? They just needed a little shove. They’ll get used to you soon enough, Brahms."

Brahms stared at her, unsure of what to say. He felt a strange warmth in his chest, something that had been absent for a long time. His voice, usually cold and distant, came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Kiki nodded, her smile widening. "No need to thank me. People need to learn not to judge others based on their past." She gave him a playful wink. "Besides, us weirdos got to stick together, right ?"

For a moment, Brahms simply stood there, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had never expected kindness, and certainly not from someone like Kiki. She wasn’t afraid of him. She cared.

"Could I…stay with you ?” Brahms asked. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Kiki’s eyes widened in surprise before they softened, and she nodded. "Sure, Brahms. Let’s go."

Kiki led Brahms to her small, cozy room above the bakery where she stayed. The warm, earthy scent of herbs and freshly baked bread filled the air as she opened the door, revealing a space that was both simple and welcoming. The wooden beams of the ceiling were lined with drying flowers, and the soft glow of candlelight flickered from a small table near the window.

"Make yourself comfortable," Kiki said with a gentle smile, gesturing to a worn but comfortable-looking armchair by the table. She quickly moved to the hearth, her hands deftly reaching for the ingredients she had stashed earlier for a light dinner. "I’ll make us something to eat."

Brahms stood hesitantly at the door for a moment, unsure of where to go or what to do. He wasn’t used to being in someone else’s space, let alone having dinner with them.

"Thank you," he said quietly and Kiki glanced over her shoulder at him, pausing for a moment as she set a pot on the stove.

"Don’t mention it," she replied with a smile, her tone warm and friendly. "You don’t have to thank me. I’m just making us some food."

She moved to the small cupboard, pulling out a few vegetables and other ingredients. As she worked, she glanced at Brahms. "I don’t get to cook for others much. But I am sure you’ll be the perfect guest."

Brahms couldn’t help but smile at her. He wasn’t used to this kind of casual conversation. It felt...nice. There was no pressure, no expectation, just a sense of ease that made him want to stay. But even as he settled into the chair, watching her cook, the doubts crept in, gnawing at the back of his mind. Why was she doing this for him ? Was it pity ? Was it because she felt sorry for the “monster” ?

He looked at her and he restrained a sigh.

He hadn’t realised how much he longed for connection until this very moment. Kiki wasn’t afraid of him, and that was the biggest comfort he could ever imagine.

"Not used to being around people…" Brahms admitted quietly after a while, more to himself than to her. "Never really felt welcome anywhere."

Kiki paused, the spoon in her hand stilling as she turned to face him. "You are now," she reassured him. "Everyone deserves a place where they feel safe and accepted. And I’m happy to offer you that."

Brahms looked down at his hands, the words resonating deeply within him. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like the monster.

Kiki finished cooking the meal, a simple meat stew with fresh bread on the side, and placed the steaming bowls in front of him. The aroma was rich and comforting, and as Brahms took his first bite, he couldn’t help but close his eyes, savoring the warmth.

"You cook well," Brahms murmured, his voice soft as he recalled the way his mother used to cook for him.

Kiki smiled, sitting down across from him. "It tastes better when it’s shared."

Brahms paused, looking at her, feeling a warmth spread in his chest. "Thank you."

Kiki grinned, taking a bite of her own meal. "Like I said, no need to thank me. We’re friends now, right ?"

Brahms nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, the first real one he had felt in a long time. "Yes. Friends."

A few days later:

As Kiki walked through the busy streets with Brahms in tow, she couldn't help but notice how out of place he felt among the bustling townspeople. His heavy footsteps and towering frame often caused people to give him wide-eyed glances, but Kiki was determined to show him there was no reason to be afraid. She led him to the bakery, the familiar warmth and smell of fresh bread wafting through the door as they entered.

Inside, the bakery was cozy but bustling, with loaves of bread cooling on wooden racks and the faint sound of kneading dough in the background. Kiki made her way to the counter, where Osono, the bakery's owner, was organizing the display of pastries. Osono was a woman with a kind face, though her sharp eyes quickly took in everything happening around her.

"Welcome back, Kiki," Osono said with a warm smile, before her gaze fell on Brahms, who was standing a little awkwardly near the door, unsure of where to go. His large hands were folded together, almost in a defensive posture.

Kiki smiled and gestured toward him. "Osono, this is Brahms. He’s been staying with me for a while. He’s...a little shy, but I thought you might like to meet him."

Osono studied Brahms closely, her gaze narrowing as she took in his appearance—his tall muscular build and his large hands. It was then that she made the connection.

"You know," Osono began thoughtfully, "I could use someone with your build. My husband Fukuo could certainly use a hand in the back, lifting heavy sacks of flour, or working the ovens. He could use a bit of muscle to get the job done more easily since I can’t do much with my big round belly." She laughed and stroked her pregnant belly significantly.

Brahms blinked, confused at first. He hadn’t expected such an offer from anyone, let alone from someone he had just met. But Osono’s offer seemed genuine, and her eyes were kind, with no hint of fear or judgment. Besides, he would be working in the place Kiki worked so…

"You seem strong, and Fukuo works hard, but the lifting and the heat can be a bit too much for one person," Osono continued, her voice warm and practical. "What do you think, Brahms ? Would you like to give it a try ?"

Brahms hesitated for a moment, glancing at Kiki. She was smiling expectantly at him. How could he possibly refuse ?

"I can try," Brahms said quietly, his voice still low and he looked away for a moment. He didn’t know how this would end but…he imagined he could at least try—for Kiki…his first friend.

Osono smiled and clapped her hands together. "Wonderful ! You can start tomorrow morning. Fukuo is already in the back, preparing the dough. Come along, and I’ll introduce you."

Kiki beamed at him. "See ? You’re going to fit right in."

They walked to the back of the bakery, where a small, quiet man with dark, thoughtful eyes stood kneading a large ball of dough. His movements were methodical, almost meditative, and Brahms watched in awe at the precise way Fukuo worked with the dough. The man barely looked up when they entered, but when he did, his expression remained calm and unbothered.

Osono introduced Brahms to him, and Fukuo simply nodded in acknowledgment. Despite his silence, there was an understanding in his eyes as he looked at Brahms’ arms and hands. He must have recognized the same strength and potential in him than his wife, and without a word, he gestured toward the sacks of flour by the corner of the room.

Brahms hesitated, then walked over to the sacks. They were heavy, but with his strong frame, he easily picked one up and placed it on the counter. Fukuo’s quiet nod was all the encouragement he needed.

Kiki smiled and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she watched the exchange. "See ? You’ve got this, Brahms."

For the first time in a long time, Brahms felt a sense of purpose. He was here, contributing, doing something that others depended on. He wasn’t just lurking in the shadows anymore. As he lifted the heavy sacks of flour, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he could have a life after all.

Fukuo continued to work in silence, his hands moving with practiced ease, while Osono watched over them both, making sure everything ran smoothly. Kiki stayed close by, chatting with both men every so often, offering little words of encouragement to Brahms between deliveries.

By the end of the day, Brahms was exhausted, but there was a quiet pride in his chest. For the first time in ages, he felt like he was part of something…

As they all gathered to leave for the night, Osono stopped Brahms at the door. "You did good today. Come back tomorrow, and we’ll keep working. You've got a lot of potential."

Brahms nodded, offering her a small but genuine smile. "Thank you," he said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of gratitude.

Kiki walked beside him, her smile wide. "See ? Told you it’d work out."

And for Brahms, as he looked ahead toward the bakery he caught himself thinking that perhaps, he could finally have a future.

A month later:

The heavy rain hammered against the windows of the bakery, the steady thrum of droplets a constant reminder of the storm outside. Brahms had been helping Fukuo with the dough, the rhythm of the kneading soothing him as he worked. But something felt off. Kiki had left early that morning for a delivery, as she often did, but hours had passed, and there was still no sign of her.

The wind howled outside, and the sky was an unrelenting shade of gray, making the world outside feel darker, colder. Fukuo glanced out the window with a furrowed brow, his usually calm demeanor slipping for just a moment. He said nothing, but Brahms could tell he was worried.

"She’ll…be fine," Brahms whispered to himself, but even as the words left his mouth, a gnawing sense of unease twisted inside him. He had never been one to trust the world outside, not after all he'd been through. And now, with Kiki out there alone, in this weather—he felt genuine concern for her.

Then, suddenly, he heard it—the sharp whistle of wind that seemed to crack through the storm, followed by a familiar sound—the whoosh of something cutting through the air. Brahms turned quickly, his heart skipping a beat as he saw her: Kiki, her broom slicing through the torrential downpour, gliding toward the bakery with precision.

Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived. Kiki’s usual graceful flight was off, her form shaky as she fought against the winds, clearly struggling to stay balanced on her broom. Brahms didn’t even think before he bolted toward the door, flinging it open and stepping out into the storm, ignoring the torrential downpour that drenched him instantly.

His eyes locked onto her figure in the distance. She was descending, but something wasn’t right. She was too low, too unsteady. Without a second thought, he sprinted toward her.

"Kiki !" he shouted over the roar of the storm, his voice barely audible.

Kiki, drenched and pale, lost her grip on the broom as the wind howled even fiercer. She flailed, her arms reaching out helplessly, and for a brief, terrifying moment, it looked as though she might fall straight into the ground below.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Brahms reached out, his long arms catching her as she tumbled from the sky. The force of her weight knocked him off balance for a moment, but he managed to steady himself, gripping her tightly in his arms.

"Got you," Brahms murmured, his voice low but filled with recognisable relief. The storm continued to rage around them, but in that moment, all that mattered was Kiki.

Her breath was shallow, her face flushed with exertion and cold, but she looked up at him. She was still shivering from the cold, but she smiled softly. "Thanks...Brahms. I—I don’t know what happened. The storm…it just hit harder than I expected and…"

He started walking back. "You're okay now," he said, trying to ignore the panic that had surged through him only moments ago. The rain continued to pour around them, but his focus was entirely on her.

Kiki's eyes flickered up at him with a hint of embarrassment, her voice weak but thankful. "I should’ve been more careful...it’s just that I was trying to get back before the storm got worse. I didn’t realize it’d hit so fast."

Brahms was about to say something, but Fukuo, having followed close behind, stepped forward. His calm presence cut through the chaos of the storm. "Kiki, you should get inside. You’re soaked through. Brahms, bring her in."

Nodding, Brahms cradled Kiki in his arms gently, careful not to hurt her, and made his way toward the bakery. Despite the rain, despite the chaos of the storm around them, Kiki didn’t feel afraid. She let herself lean against him, her head resting on his shoulder as he brought her back inside.

Once inside, Osono was quick to grab towels and warm blankets, offering them to Kiki as Brahms set her down by the hearth to warm up. The warmth from the fire did little to erase the icy chill in her bones, but it brought comfort nonetheless.

"I didn’t think you’d be able to catch me," Kiki said weakly, glancing up at Brahms with a soft, grateful smile.

Brahms, still wet and covered in rain, knelt next to her. "No matter what it takes. Brahms will protect Kiki."

Kiki’s smile grew, her eyes softening as she looked at him. "You really don’t have to keep looking out for me like this, you know."

He shook his head, his voice quiet but firm. "I want to…protect my…friend."

Kiki smiled as she held Brahms’ hand. He didn’t hesitate before wrapping his fingers around hers.

Brahms stayed by her side, his gaze never leaving her as she began to drift off. He couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of pride, knowing that he'd been there for her when it mattered most. And deep down, despite all the uncertainty in the world, Brahms knew that he would continue to stand by her, no matter what.

The world around Setsuko was a hazy blur of light and shadow. Hunger gnawed at her tiny frame, her body trembling as she sat on the ground clutching her empty tin of candy. Her brother Seita had gone to find food, leaving her alone in the makeshift shelter they called home. But the hours stretched on, and Setsuko felt her grip on consciousness slipping.

She didn’t notice at first when the shadows in the corner of the shelter seemed to thicken and twist. A figure emerged, tall and gaunt, with glowing golden eyes that burned like twin suns in the dim light. The air grew cold, and Setsuko’s weak breaths came out in soft, visible puffs.

"Well well well, what do we have here ?" The voice was smooth and lilting, like a lullaby sung off-key. Penny crouched down, his painted face splitting into a sharp grin and he giggled maniacally. "A little flower wilting in the dark…"

Setsuko’s glassy eyes barely registered his presence. Her fingers twitched around the tin, but she didn’t have the strength to respond.

Penny tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. He could smell her fear, faint but lingering, wrapped around her like a fading perfume. But more than that, he could see her innocence—a sweetness untouched by the cruelty of the world around her. It was rare...precious. But in this state, she would barely fill his belly. She was skin-on-bones and Penny scrunched his nose at the stench. She was barely appetising at all and she made him think of his own painful and pathetic death…

"You’re hungry, aren’t you ?"he asked, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "So small, so fragile. It’s a shame, really." He leaned closer, his voice softening. "But I can help you, little one. Yes, yes, I can."

With a dramatic flourish, Penny conjured a small plate of food: rice, vegetables, and even a piece of fish. The aroma wafted through the air, rich and tantalizing. Setsuko’s nose twitched, her body instinctively reacting to the promise of sustenance.

Her lips parted slightly, but she hesitated, her tired eyes flickering with confusion.

"Go on," Penny coaxed, his voice sickly sweet. "Eat. It’s just for you. From you friend, Penny the D-D-Dancing Clown !"

Slowly, Setsuko reached out with trembling hands. She picked up a piece of rice, her tiny fingers fumbling, and brought it to her mouth. The moment the food touched her tongue, tears welled in her eyes. She ate hungrily, her frail body desperate for the nourishment it had been denied for so long.

Penny watched her with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. As she ate, he crouched closer, his gaze unblinking. "That’s it, little flower. Eat up and grow strong." His voice dropped to a whisper, before he added to himself. "So I can savor you properly later…"

Setsuko, oblivious to his words, continued to eat, her face lighting up with relief and joy. Penny leaned back, his grin softening into something almost thoughtful. For a moment, he simply watched her, a strange flicker of emotion crossing his features. He remembered the screams he had uttered when hunger had almost killed him during his life—the gnawing feeling and the wrenching despair.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Seita was returning. Penny’s golden eyes darted toward the shelter’s entrance, and he let out a soft chuckle. "Well, little flower, it seems your brother’s back. But don’t worry…I’ll be watching…"

With that, he melted into the shadows, leaving behind only the faint chill of his presence and the empty plate where the food had been.

When Seita entered and saw Setsuko sitting up, a faint smile on her face, he was overcome with relief. He rushed to her side, not noticing the lingering chill in the air or the way the shadows seemed to move on their own.

For now, Penny would wait. After all, good things were always worth waiting for…

The days passed, and Penny kept a close watch on Setsuko and Seita, his golden eyes gleaming from the shadows as he observed their every move. The siblings were fascinating to him—so small, so fragile, yet clinging to each other with a determination that intrigued him. Setsuko’s innocence and Seita’s fierceness made for an appetizing spectacle, and Penny found himself savoring the slow build of their despair.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the streets grew dim, Seita had ventured into the marketplace with Setsuko in tow. They were weak and weary, their clothes tattered, their eyes hollow from days of hunger. Seita clutched the small tin of candy they always carried, the last token of their once-stable lives.

As they stopped in the shadow of a crumbling wall to rest, a rough-looking man emerged from the darkness. His eyes glinted with malice as he approached, his steps heavy and deliberate.

"What’ve you got there, boy ?" the man sneered, gesturing toward the tin in Seita’s hand. "Bet there’s something worth taking in that."

Seita instinctively pulled Setsuko closer, his body shielding her from the man’s predatory gaze. "It’s nothing," he said firmly, though his trembling voice betrayed his fear.

The man’s grin widened, and he stepped closer, his hand reaching out. "Don’t lie to me, kid. Hand it over, or I’ll—"

The air grew cold, unnaturally so. A strange, oppressive silence fell over the alley, broken only by the faint sound of something slithering.

The man paused, his head snapping around. "What the—?"

From the shadows behind him, a figure emerged. Penny loomed tall, his painted face illuminated by the faint glow of his golden eyes. He tilted his head, a sharp grin splitting his face.

"Well, well, well," Penny drawled, his voice smooth and mocking. "Who dares disturb my favourite little bite-snacks ?"

The man stumbled back, his bravado evaporating as he took in the eerie figure before him. "W-Who the hell are you ?!"

Penny chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "Oh, I’m just a concerned…citizen." His grin widened, revealing rows of sharp, gleaming teeth. "And you, my dear friend, are dinner."

Before the man could react, Pennywise lunged with inhuman speed. His long arms stretched unnaturally, his clawed hands gripping the man and lifting him off the ground as though he weighed nothing. The man let out a choked scream, but it was cut short as Pennywise’s teeth sank into his shoulder.

Seita shielded Setsuko’s eyes, his own gaze frozen in horror as he watched the scene unfold. The man’s struggles grew weaker until they ceased entirely with every bite Penny took, and then he dropped what remained of the man onto the ground with a wet thud.

The clown turned to the siblings, licking the blood from his lips as he stepped closer. His eyes glinted with dark amusement as he crouched down to their level.

"Well, that was fun," Penny said cheerfully, his tone light as though he hadn’t just devoured a man right in front of them. "You really should be more careful, little ones. The world is full of…monsters."

He grinned widely at that last word—fully aware of the irony behind his own words.

Seita tightened his grip on Setsuko, his voice trembling as he forced out a question. "W-Why did you help us ?"

Pennywise chuckled again, his grin softening into something almost benevolent as he thought about his brother Pennywise... "Oh, let’s just say I have a soft spot for siblings. Besides…" His gaze flicked to Setsuko, who peeked out from behind her brother, her wide eyes brimming with fear and curiosity. "I’m not quite done with you yet, little one."

With that, Pennywise stood and melted back into the shadows once again, his voice lingering in the air like a cold breeze.

"I’ll be seeing you, little flowers. When you are fully bloomed and ripe for the picking…"

Seita held Setsuko close, his heart racing. He didn’t know what the clown’s true intentions were, but one thing was certain—Pennywise was no ordinary monster. And despite his apparent help, Seita couldn’t shake the feeling that their encounter with him was far from over.

"Come on, Setsuko…Let’s go home."

——————————————————————

As days turned into weeks, Seita managed to secure a small job in the city, bringing home bits of food with each return. The change in their lives, though modest, was profound. Setsuko’s cheeks grew a little fuller, her laughter returning in small bursts. She still clutched her tin of candy like a talisman, but now it rattled with the occasional treat Seita brought home.

Though their lives were improving, Setsuko hadn’t forgotten the eerie, painted face of the strange clown who had saved them. Despite her initial fear, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of gratitude toward him. After all, he had protected her and her brother when no one else had.

One evening, as she gnawed on a piece of meat from their dinner, she glanced at the small pile of leftovers. A thoughtful frown crossed her face.

"Brother ?" she asked softly, looking up at Seita.

"Hm ?" Seita was busy repairing a tear in her clothes, his hands deft and practiced.

"Do you think…Penny gets hungry too ?"

Seita froze, his expression darkening at the mention of the clown. He didn’t want to think about that thing or how his sister had managed to get its name, let alone imagine it as anything other than a threat lurking in the shadows. But Setsuko’s innocent gaze disarmed him, as it always did.

"I don’t know, Setsuko," he finally said after a moment, his voice hesitant.

She nodded, her little hands carefully wrapping a piece of raw meat in a scrap of cloth. Without another word, she slipped out of their shabby living place and into the cool evening air. Near the edge of their temporary home, she placed the wrapped meat on the ground, her small hands patting it gently as if presenting a gift to an unseen deity.

"I don’t know if you need to eat," she whispered into the darkness, her voice trembling slightly but still steady. "But thank you. For helping us. Please take this."

For a moment, nothing happened. The place was silent except for the distant sounds of the city. Setsuko began to think maybe he wouldn’t come. But then, a faint shimmer appeared in the shadows, and golden eyes blinked open. Penny stepped into view, his tall frame looming yet oddly subdued. He tilted his head curiously at the little girl and her strange gift.

"What’s this ?" he drawled, crouching down to inspect the offering.

"It’s for you," Setsuko said, her voice small but sincere. "You helped us, so I thought…you might like it."

Penny tilted his head further, his sharp features softening slightly as he picked up the wrapped meat. He sniffed it, his nose wrinkling slightly, before popping it into his mouth with a flick of his wrist.

"Hm," he said after a moment, his voice thoughtful. "Not bad, little flower. Not bad at all."

Setsuko smiled, her heart warming at his response. "I’ll leave more for you next time," she promised, her tiny voice brimming with earnestness.

Penny chuckled softly. "You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you ?" His golden eyes flicked to hers, holding her gaze. "Be careful, though. Not all monsters are as…nice as I am."

Setsuko nodded solemnly and grinned. "I will."

As she turned to head back inside, Penny watched her go, a flicker of something unrecognizable crossing his face. For the first time in centuries, he felt something close to hesitation as to whether or not he should eat those two. This little flower had fed him, not out of fear or desperation, but from a place of genuine kindness. It was a strange, foreign sensation to him.

…What if he spared those two ? Just this once. But he quickly shook his head. What was he thinking ? No. He hadn’t gone through all this trouble to not feast on their flesh and blood. He WOULD eat them. He just had to wait a little longer…

As the days passed, Setsuko’s nightly routine began to change. Before curling up on her thin mat, she would press her hands together, her tiny fingers interlacing, and close her eyes.

"Penny," she would whisper into the stillness of their shabby living space, her voice soft but filled with hope. "Please watch over us. Keep Seita safe when he goes to work and help us stay together. Thank you for helping us before, guardian angel."

Seita often listened from his spot nearby, frowning slightly. He didn’t trust that clown, but he didn’t have the heart to stop Setsuko from believing in something—even if it was a monster. If it gave her comfort, who was he to take that from her ? Unbeknownst to either of them, Penny was always nearby. Hidden in the folds of darkness, his eyes stared as he watched Setsuko clasp her ting hands in prayer. It was the first time he heard someone call him a "guardian angel," his lips twitched into a crooked grin. It was almost laughable.

"A guardian angel ?" he muttered to himself, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. "Oh, little flower, if only you knew.”

Yet, night after night, her quiet prayers continued. And with each one, Penny found himself drawn back to her. He watched over the siblings as she asked, lurking in the shadows when Seita traveled to the city, ensuring no harm came to him. He scared off scavengers and opportunists who might have targeted their humble home, his predatory instincts redirected to something he hadn’t quite expected: protecting.

One night, as Setsuko finished her prayer, she whispered, "Good night, Penny," before pulling her thin blanket over her small frame.

Penny, crouched in the shadows outside, felt an odd pang. A guardian angel ? Him ? He wasn’t sure if he found it endearing or ridiculous. Perhaps both.

But as he vanished back into the darkness, a strange realization settled over him. For the first time in a long while, Penny didn’t just see prey in the two siblings. He saw something else—something he wanted to keep alive.

And against all odds, he decided to keep it safe.

The moon hung low over the siblings' shabby living place when the air turned cold and heavy with dread. Setsuko had wandered a little too far from their shelter, collecting wildflowers to press and keep as a distraction from their hardships. She didn’t hear the man approach until it was too late.

"You shouldn’t be out here alone, little girl," the stranger said, his voice oily and too friendly. His ragged clothes and wild eyes made him seem like just another desperate soul, but the way he grabbed her arm made her heart race with fear.

"Let me go !" she cried, struggling against his grip.

The man chuckled darkly, his grip tightening as he muttered something about how no one would miss her. Setsuko’s heart pounded as tears pricked her eyes, her small voice screaming for Seita.

But someone or something else came instead.

The shadows seemed to ripple and shift, and suddenly, the man was yanked backward with inhuman force. He hit the ground hard, his head snapping up to see a looming figure above him.

Penny smirked. Another one ? My my…those siblings did make for a rather nice and valuable investment. The clown’s grin became impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth glinting with hunger. The man screamed, trying to crawl backward, but Penny was already upon him. The last thing the man saw was the sharp gleam of teeth before they sank into his flesh.

Setsuko, trembling, watched from where she had fallen. The man’s cries were cut off with a sickening crunch, and then there was silence. Penny turned, blood dripping from his mouth as he gazed down at the tiny girl. Last time, her brother had protected her eyes from the fun show. But now…

Setsuko stared at him, her wide eyes brimming with tears. Pennywise braced himself for the inevitable—her screams, her fear, her pleas to be spared.

But instead, she ran to him.

"Penny !" Setsuko sobbed, throwing her small arms around him. Her little body pressed against his bloodied costume, shaking as she clung to him tightly. "I was so scared ! There was that mean man and he wanted to take me away and I screamed and I didn’t know what to do and…! I am so happy you came !"

Penny froze, his arms hovering awkwardly at his sides. This was not the reaction he expected.

"You…You saved me," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "Thank you, Penny."

Penny tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. He sniffed the air but smelled only relief and genuine happiness…

"You’re not…afraid ?" He finally asked—dumbfounded.

Setsuko shook her head, pulling back just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were wet but full of gratitude and she grinned widely. "You’re my guardian angel. You protect me. Why would I be scared of you ?"

Penny stared at her, his grin faltering for just a moment. The word “angel” echoed in his mind again and again, and something unfamiliar twisted in his chest. WHAT WAS HE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT ? Where was the panic ?! And the terror ?! And the delicious taste of despair and sweet sweet fear ?!

"Foolish little flower," he muttered and shook his head. "You shouldn’t trust a monster."

"But you’re not a monster to me," Setsuko declared, her tone resolute despite her trembling hands.

Pennywise couldn’t help but laugh at that—a deep, resonant chuckle that echoed through the quiet night. He ruffled her hair gently with one oversized hand…that foolish and careless child.

"Go back inside, little flower," he said, his voice unusually kind. "Stay safe."

Setsuko nodded, giving him one last squeeze before hurrying back to their shelter. Pennywise watched her go, his golden eyes gleaming in the dark as he bared his teeth and licked the rest of the man’s flesh…

"…Foolish little flower."

[sugar-plum-senpai]

The green version of my Fanfic Writer Notion Template!

[mieczyslawn]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ studio ghibli✶icons

[artimaking]

stardew valley with a twist ♡

couple commission i illustrated for the lovely @/strawhatter !!! 💌❤️

[chuuyas-height]

A Gentleman's Word (The Cat Returns)

Hiii this is a short story for the #gt_gotcha_4_gaza and the chapter revolves around the Studio Ghibli movie "The cat returns"

This is absolutely sfw and fluffy :3

You can also find this on Wattpad and AO3

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The rays of the beaming sun gently bathed his golden fur in their warm light as the motionless statue came to life. The appearance of any humans in the world of cats was incredibly sparse, therefore Baron would rarely have any human customers. In fact, even with no humans around, other cats passed his doorstep on extremely rare occasions since the nature of his services was not seeked very often. Baron brushed his thoughts away with a stretch of his limbs as the shop bell rang, indicating the entrance of a client. He straightened the hem of his coat and patted the dust off his fancy clothes to make himself more presentable. 

But no matter how distinguished Baron was, no amount of proper etiquette had the ability to stop his eyes from widening ever so slightly at the sight. By the door stood a human woman whom he mistakenly took for a girl. But he was not to be blamed. After all, most humans scaled up to three or four times his own size, and watching a human sport the same stature as him was an odd sight. The woman's small figure crept closer. 

“H-Hello,” she stuttered, “is this the Cat Bureau? I-I was advised to come here… I was told you could maybe provide some aid to my predicament...” the lady voiced. As she approached, Baron got a better look at her features. Long, chestnut colored hair graced her shoulders as an anxious pair of hazel irises scanned the room. Her figure, abnormally petite for someone so mature, didn't dare wander too deep into the shop. That's when Baron decided to make his presence known by clearing his throat, earning a soft yelp from the smaller lady. 

“I apologise for my imprudence.” said Baron as he removed his hat and bowed into a curtsy. “This is indeed the Cat Bureau and I, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, am at your full service.” As he rose once more and put the hat back on his head, Baron realised he was actually a few inches taller than the human woman. As she reached the same conclusion, the woman flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Baron spoke. 

“What is your name, my fair lady?”

“My name is Anna. Pleased to meet you.” 

“Well, dear Anna, your problem must be of an arcane or magical nature, hence your presence here. And if my judgement stands correct, your predicament revolves around your size, no?” The woman nodded and hesitantly took a step forward. 

“That's right. It has just recently come to my attention that my body is reducing in size at a rapid rate. From what I observed, I lose around five inches of height every week and as you can already tell, it's quite bothersome.”

Baron hummed in acknowledgement, fondling the fur of his chin in thought. “I can see the source of your worries, my fair lady. I shall certainly start working on a cure right away, although please note it may take a considerable amount of time to gather all the necessary ingredients. I would advise you to stop by regularly so I can check up on your condition.”

The woman nodded as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress. She didn't want to get her hopes too high in case they came crashing down on her. “Very well. Thank you for your time, sir. Be certain I will return and best of luck with your work.”

Baron bowed his head as a thank you and escorted the lady out. After sharing their goodbyes, the cat returned to his spot and got to work right away. 

~~~

True to her words, Anna returned many times, each one appearing smaller than the other. She was losing height gradually, going from three feet tall to a measly two feet tall in the span of two weeks. The velocity of her condition was especially concerning to Baron but he didn't wish to upset the shrinking lady. Instead he opted for optimism and faith in his potion-making abilities. Indeed, whenever the woman paid him a visit, he'd have a new, improved potion waiting for her. She'd happily accept and drink the mix of herbs, extracts and other “secret” ingredients, but her hopes shrivelled with every failed attempt that by now were too many to even count. 

Eventually, Anna's predicament had reached a new low. One of those days, Baron was startled by a faint knock on his door. It was the middle of the night and unlike the other cats who were most definitely soundly asleep by that time, Baron was working his butt off, dedicated to reaching the root of the problem. He could sleep once his objective was completed. Wondering who it could possibly be this late at night, he marched to the door. Paws on the handle, he opened the door to find no-one. Confusion was written all over his features but a nearly silent sniffle caught his attention. Looking down, he was met with a tiny figure that undoubtedly belonged to Anna. She was so small she was only slightly bigger than a mouse. As she looked upwards to face the now giant to her cat, Anna's sobs died in her throat. He couldn’t help but observe that her small face was visibly red and adorned with the glistening patterns of fresh tears. 

“I… I…shrunk again…” she said softly, barely audible to Baron who now towered above her. His heart swelled at the pathetic display before him and his paws reached down and scooped the woman up of their own accord. Her first reaction was to gasp, not expecting to get picked up all of a sudden. But as her cheek was pressed against the soft, fine material of his vest, she let it all out and a new flow of tears was released. “I-I am s-so scared.” she admitted with both her arms wrapped around his paw, her hands holding fistfuls of golden fur as if seeking some relief. “Worry not, for I will keep you company until you get back to normal.” he purred. Baron looked at the wrecked miniaturised lady with fondness and affection, while fear started to find its way through his heart. She was barely four inches tall. What if… What if he couldn’t help her after all? 

He cursed his pessimistic thoughts and pressed the tiny woman harder against his chest in an attempt of comfort and security. It seemed to do the trick as the crying reduced to whimpering and eventually nothing more than occasional hiccups and a racing heart. Wordlessly, Baron walked back inside and took a seat by his work table, careful not to startle the jumpy lady in his paws. While still caressing and comforting the small lady, he had to keep up with his work and finish that potion. It could possibly be his last chance. 

~~~

It had been hours since Anna had fallen asleep. By the time Baron mixed the very last ingredient, Anna was snoozing in the cat's vest pocket, huddled in the tight opening. Baron raised the vial with the deep lilac color up to his face, glaring at the thick fluid within. I hope this works, he thought and with a soft sigh, he delicately tried to awake the woman. 

“My lady, wake up.” he purred. “There is a new potion I would like you to try.” Baron felt a shift near his chest as the tiny human poked her head out of his pocket, all while rubbing the sleep off her tired eyes. He reached into his pocket and scooped her out, laying her on the work table. He couldn’t tell if she was smaller than he remembered or if the lack of sleep was taking a toll on his body. Anna stood there expectantly, hoping this time everything would work out. At this point, the vial itself was bigger than Anna and Baron had to carefully lower it down to her level so she could take a sip. The woman tried holding the oversized tube but she honestly wouldn't manage much without Baron's help. She latched her lips on the edge and took careful, measured gulps. 

The excitement had died off of her as soon as nothing happened after Baron pulled the vial away. She had to admit this one left behind a better after taste than the rest, but it meant nothing if she couldn’t turn back to her original size. Crestfallen, Anna felt her lids droop as the adrenaline slowly evaporated from her body, the previous exhaustion finally catching up. Looking outside the closed window and then at the big wooden clock decorating his wall, Baron decided they both had to catch up on some much needed sleep. He took the woman on his soft paws and headed to the expansive couch where he rested his body, with Anna's tiny form clinging at his sides. 

The wearines the cat felt was so great he didn’t wake up until the early hours of noon. Not even the glaring sun managed to awake him. His eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh lightning, but something caught his attention either way. He was no longer on the couch. Startled, he searched for Anna's small body, only to find that he had been resting on the fully sized woman's torso all along. Elation overtook him as he realised his potion actually worked. Anna was still sleeping, unaware of what happened throughout the night. Something soft brushed her left arm and she shifted in her sleep. 

“My lady.”

Baron's voice she could recognise anywhere, but what was off was the fact that she couldn’t hear him all around her. Anna's eyes snapped open and she was met with the cat standing on her torso and smiling proudly. “We did it.”

Anna was stunned, taking in her surroundings. Nothing towered above her anymore. Instead, she was the one who was too big now. Baron took the cue and climbed down the woman's torso as her upper body rose. Everything around her down to every detail was perfectly sized for a cat's comfort. She felt like the giant one for a second. But once she was over the mild shock, her heart picked up the pace and a smile adorned her pretty features. “Oh thank you so much! You did it!” she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around the cat's figure. “No need to thank me, my lady. After all, I only did my job.”

Anna shook her head. “It's not just that. Thank you for helping me out, and keeping me safe. Thank you for keeping me company and going through all that trouble just for me. I'll be eternally grateful to you, Baron.” And with that, Anna hugged the cat once more before squeezing herself out of the small Bureau and waving goodbye with a huge smile plastered on her face. 

Baron couldn’t help but think she was beautiful. But then again, all humans were. And with that thought, he took his usual spot by the window until his next client's arrival.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

@gtgotcha4gaza <3

[yourteght]

» OS PORQUÊS — pedido pessoal

⟅03.03.2024 — sendo bem sincero, a "capa tá pronta" já faz um tempo (desde o mês passado) MAS ainda não tinha colocado aquele ✨tchan✨para entregar a capa, e por isso que sim, vai ficar com essa data (essa explicação é inútil mas estou bem elétrico editando esse post então ignorem meus devaneios e sigam o flow). Eu sou apaixonado por esse filme (tanto que se eu pudesse, me juntaria a trupe e viveria nesse universo de tão perfeito que é) e até por isso que minha lista de ships supremos dos animes começou com Howl e Sophie e dado a esse fato, sou muito grato ao Castelo Animado por ser otaku fedido kkkk eu tive dificuldade com essa capa pq ainda sofro com os pombinhos e comecei com uma ideia romântica (óbvio que eu vou tentar tacar estilo romântico em tudo que é capa e não ta tudo bem) mas eu achei uma fofura essa capa gente, uma capa clean muita nhom nhom pra aquecer meu coração em tempos tão turbulentos pra mim. E é isso <3

[justwinginglife]

When You Know

Dedicated to my new follower @onna-musha-mari, more Howl fics to come, thanks so much for the support!

Your partner was an atrocious dancer.

But he was rich beyond belief, a nobleman, in line for some throne in some country, and a potential marriage prospect. You figured the least you could do was pretend to enjoy the dance; you owed his money that much.

As you glided along, using the sweetest of sweet smiles to mask your winces when he’d step on your toes or to hide your embarrassment when he’d miss his mark again, you remarked to yourself that apparently money couldn’t buy skill. No amount of money could erase the shame of having such a dance partner. No amount of jewels could erase the memory of his feet stumbling over yours, or undo the bruises he’d imposed upon your delicate toes.

Howl had been watching the whole disastrous affair and it pained him endlessly. When the song ended, he immediately flew to your rescue. You were a stranger to him, someone he’d never see again after tonight, but he felt the need to save you from this awful fate. He couldn’t bear to watch you struggle any longer. You were too beautiful, too elegant, to be resigned to such a sad, pathetic man.

“Mind if I have this dance?” Howl holds his hand out to you.

You meet the gaze of your savior and quickly - though not too quickly, so as to appear somewhat hesitant to be separated from your current partner- take his hand, letting him lead you further onto the dance floor.

“Well hello stranger.”

Howl bows to you, “Hello, my dear.”

He slips one hand around your waist and takes your hand with the other as he begins waltzing with you.

“Thanks for saving me.”

He grins. “Anytime.”

You dance another minute or two in silence, your bodies in perfect sync with each other. The ballroom is crowded, the music is loud, but somehow you feel like it’s just the two of you, alone in this room, lost in your own world. Lost in the rhythm of the dance, lost in the deep blue of his eyes.

Finally, you remark, “You’re not too bad at this, I suppose my toes can rest easy.”

He chuckles. “Oh, love, you’ll find I’m not bad at anything.” He winks, then he continues, “And might I add, you’re looking absolutely stunning tonight.”

You laugh. “Oh, is that right? What a smooth talker you are, Mr…?”

“Pendragon. Howl Pendragon. At your service.”

“Well thank you for your service, Mr. Pendragon. Once again, I appreciate the rescue.”

He pulls you closer as you continue to dance, then he murmurs against your ear, “It’s Howl, actually. You can call me Howl.”

The feeling of his breath on your skin makes you shiver and, sensing the sudden motion, he pulls you even tighter against him, trying to steady you. You’re suddenly very aware of how warm the room is, of how warm your skin is, of how warm his hands are.

“So, Howl… what’s a guy like you doing alone at a party like this?” You try to keep the interest out of your voice, but it’s there all the same.

“Maybe I’m just looking for someone like you. Someone devastatingly gorgeous who happens to be a fantastic dancer.” He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction to his compliments.

You smirk. “You better be careful saying things like that, or you might never get rid of me.” You tease.

He grins, then rests his forehead against yours. “I just can’t help myself. You’re simply too beautiful. You might not be able to get rid of me.”

“I bet you say that to all the women.”

“Only the beautiful ones.”

“Ah, so I’m not special. A shame.”

The song ends, but he’s still swaying with you in his arms, his blue eyes searching yours as though trying to read your mind. He’s dangerously close to you, so close you can almost taste him. Close enough that you’ve started to imagine the way he tastes, against your will. You know he’s probably just a huge flirt, but you can’t help being enticed by him anyway.

“Howl…” You whisper.

He sighs at the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?”

“The… the song’s over.”

He shakes his head, gripping you firmly. “Have another dance with me,” He insists.

You laugh, amused. “Well, alright, if you insist. I suppose one more couldn’t hurt.”

So you indulge yourself in this fantasy a little more, playing at fake lovers as the music resumes and he twirls you around. You wonder if it’s the dance or the dancer that’s suddenly making you dizzy in the most intoxicating way possible.

Howl seems to notice the way you cling to him, the way your eyes never leave his. For a moment, he’s quiet. He’s just focused on the sound of your breathing, the feeling of your hand in his, the motion of your body mimicking his movements as he guides you across the dance floor. Then he breaks the silence with the first thing he can think of, “Don’t dance with anyone else tonight. You know as well as I do that no one else is going to be a better partner for you than me.”

You’re surprised at his bluntness. “Well, now that’s an interesting request. You’re right, I don’t think I’ve ever met a better dancer, and I’m not sure I’ll ever meet anyone again that’s as good as you are. But I have… certain obligations.”

He sighs, the disappointment obvious in his voice. Before he can protest, the song ends. He’s just about to request another dance from you when your former partner walks up to you, requesting your company. Howl stills. You watch his reaction carefully, looking back and forth between him and your suitor, but then you make your decision. You reluctantly take the nobleman’s arm, saying to Howl with as encouraging a smile as you can muster that there are no shortage of pretty women here tonight and he has no shortage of pretty lines, you’re sure he can find someone else to entertain him. Then you let the man lead you away, only turning back to look at Howl once more, before disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment, Howl is frozen. He’s still clinging to the feeling of you in his arms, still wondering if the short time you’d spent with him meant anything to either of you. Was it just playful banter? Or was it a spark of something more? Before his thoughts can collect themselves, his feet have already begun to move in the direction you went in; he’s unsure why they’re pulling him towards you, you’re just a stranger he’ll never see again, and you’re right that he has no shortage of women to choose from, but on the off chance there could be something between the two of you, he allows his feet to guide his path.

When he finally stumbles around long enough to find you, it appears you’re leaving the party. He thinks to himself that you must’ve gotten tired of playing the trophy because you’re feigning sick and you excuse yourself from the party. He’s shocked that your poor excuse for a suitor hasn’t noticed you’re not really sick and he’s even more shocked when the man waves you off, telling you he’ll fetch you in the morning. Howl scowls at the word “fetch” as if you’re some sort of pet. He wants to wring the man by the neck, but then you make your way out the front door and he follows close behind.

You wave down a carriage, talk to the driver a moment, and then are helped inside.

He thinks he might’ve just lost his chance with you, but then you poke your head out the window and call to him, “Are you coming or not?”

His eyes widen as you gesture to the seat next to you, but he quickly recovers from his surprise and he slips into the carriage, closing the door behind him. His thigh brushes up against yours as he takes up position beside you.

“I’ve asked the driver to take the scenic route home, I hope you don’t mind.” You try to keep your voice calm and level as you attempt to ignore the warmth of his leg seeping into yours.

“And why is that?” He peers down at you, curiously.

“More time to get to know you.” You shrug simply, but you know your intentions are anything but subtle.

He laughs softly. “I’d like that.”

As the carriage rumbles on through the night, you exchange stories and easy banter, only pausing occasionally to admire the scenic view out the window with him. You find it pleasantly surprising how comfortable you are next to him, how easy it is to sink into his touch when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, how soothing his voice sounds when he tells you about his life. You were strangers mere moments ago, but now, now you felt like kindred spirits.

He admits to you that he’s into the practice of magic, and he braces himself for your reaction. You’re unsure if he expected you to burn him at the stake for witchcraft, dive from the carriage screaming, or whimper on the floor, begging him not to eat your heart. But you do none of those things. Instead, you smirk at him, and say, “Magic? So, something like this?” And you hold your hand up for him, a purple ball of fire manifesting itself in your palm.

He blinks. “You… you practice magic? You’re… a witch?”

“And you’re a wizard. So we’re two of a kind, I guess.”

He scratches his head and chuckles. “I guess we are. I was not expecting that, I’ll be honest. Pretty girl like you; now I know you can burn my hair right off my head if I’m not careful.”

You laugh. “Exactly, you better be careful I don’t turn you into a frog.” You tease, nudging his shoulder.

He scoffs, feigning offense, but he seems to be more relaxed with every discovered commonality the two of you share.

The two of you spend the next few moments showing each other your tricks, trying to outdo each other with the more impressive spell. He pulls a bouquet of flowers out of thin air for you, then you turn his flowers into chocolates and pop one in his mouth. When he licks his lips, you almost want to lick them for him.

At one point, you comment that you like one of his rings and he immediately takes it off and slides it on your pointer finger, telling you to keep it, telling you it’ll lead you to him if you ever so desire. He secretly hopes you’ll use the ring so much it breaks.

Then the carriage jostles as it rounds a corner and you find yourself in his arms again. You think he might kiss you. You think you might kiss him. But then the carriage pulls to a stop in front of your house, and you internally curse the ride for not being long enough. You think to yourself that you should’ve instructed the driver to go a couple more laps around your house before stopping, but it’s too late now. The dream has ended and reality has started to seep in.

“Well… this is my stop. I’ve instructed the driver to take you anywhere you’d like after I’m gone. It was… it was nice to meet you, Howl.” You pull yourself from his lap and disappear into the night, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts for company.

The next morning, your suitor does indeed fetch you. He takes you for a tour of the town, buying you anything your heart so desires. He doesn’t notice that no matter what he buys you, the ring on your pointer finger will always be your most prized possession.

Howl is having breakfast at a restaurant across the street and when you step out of a boutique in your newly purchased gown, he almost chokes on his tea. He’s not had more than a second to soak in the sight of you when your suitor steps out from behind you. Howl grips his cup tightly, knuckles turning white from the exertion. Then he notices your date kissing your hand before parting ways with you. He wants to burn the man’s lips off for daring to press them to your skin, but he thinks you’ll be long gone before he can speak to you again, so he makes the decision to quickly pay for his food and take off down the street after you.

You slip into an abandoned alley and he wonders where you could be going.

He hopes it’s somewhere safe, he’s nervous about the location. When he pokes his head around the corner, you’re leaning against a wall, waiting for him.

He sheepishly approaches you. “I gather you noticed me then?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “A tall man with bright blonde hair in a bright pink coat? Yeah. It was hard to miss you.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I suppose it would be.”

“I have to say, I’m surprised to see you again so soon after last night. I didn’t think I‘d ever see you again.”

Howl stills. The disappointment in his face is clear. If you hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, then what was the point of all that chemistry? “And… and what if I wanted to see you more? What would you say to that?” He asks hesitantly.

“I’d say… that I’m supposed to be getting engaged soon and it might not be a good idea.” You say slowly.

He scoffs. “Oh, it’s not a good idea and that’s why you’re waiting for me, alone in an alley? You weren’t acting that way last night. What changed?”

You sigh. “Howl, you’ve a bit of a reputation, do you know that? All the noblewomen were fawning over you this morning at breakfast.”

He rolls his eyes. “And why do they matter when I’ve got you?”

“You’ve not got me, Howl. I’m not yours. I’m… supposed to be getting engaged.” You repeat, knowing you sound like a broken record.

Suddenly he pushes you up against the brick wall. “Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re not mine. Not until you’ve properly given me a chance.” His gaze is firm yet pleading.

You pull away from him. “Howl, last night was fun, but-”

He cuts you off, pulling you back by the wrist. “Last night was just fun? Last night was the best night I’ve had in my entire life and don’t tell me you didn’t feel the same. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about kissing me when you fell into my arms, because I thought about kissing you. Hell, I thought about kissing you the rest of the night after you left.”

You bite your lip. “So… why didn’t you?”

He scowls at you. “Because you’re ‘soon to be engaged’ or so you say. Which is complete bullshit by the way.”

“Howl…” You start again, unsure of what to say. “I’m the eldest daughter, I’m supposed to marry someone respectable.”

“So marry me. I’ll be respectable. I’ll be anything you want me to be, just let me be yours.”

You almost melt at his words. Almost. “Howl, we barely know each other, you can’t say you want to marry me.”

He rolls his eyes. “So? I know you enough to know I want you. Do you know the guy you were with?”

You look down. “He’s… a friend of a friend… of a friend.”

“So you barely know him too. So why can’t it be me? Why not marry me?”

“Because if I love you I might never stop loving you,” You snap. “And I’ve got a household to run, I can’t afford to be so careless, not when you could be running into some other woman’s arms behind my back.”

He pulls you closer to him. “So don’t stop loving me. I swear, I’ll never leave you. I’ll be useful to you. I’ll never even look at another woman. You use magic, you can just set my eyes on fire if I try to look at someone else.”

You laugh against his chest. “Oh, Howl. I’m not going to light your eyes on fire.”

He relaxes when he hears your laugh. “I know, I’m just offering. I’d offer anything to get you to stay. To get you to be mine.”

You sigh. “No other women right? Just me?”

He nods emphatically.

“And you’re going to spoil me rotten? So much that I forget I dumped my rich boyfriend?” You ask, half teasing.

He nods again. “I’ll give you the entire world on a silver platter, gold if you want it.”

“Well then, make it gold, and you can kiss me.”

“Done.” He whispers against your forehead. Then he trails kisses down your forehead to your nose. When he finally claims your lips, the kisses are passionate but gentle, like he doesn’t want to smother you with his love, but he also wants to reassure you his feelings are genuine.

When he’s finally done pressing the evidence of his affection for you against your lips, he pulls away to declare to you, “I know it’s only been a day that we’ve known each other, but I don’t want to go another day without you.”

And then your heart melts.

“Alright, love, alright. I’m yours. I’m all yours. But if you break my heart, remember I said I’d turn you into a frog.”

“I can live with that.”

And when he slides the ring off your pointer finger and nestles it around your ring finger, you swear you’re in love with him too.

——————————————————————————-

Author’s Note: yes, I’m aware it is super cheesy to do a whole “love at first sight, they’ve only known each other for a day thing” but hush, we ignore that for the sake of plot okay? We love Howl, anyone sane would fall for that man at first sight. And yall know I’m not into long fics, this was running way over and that was only from two days worth of content, can you imagine if I wrote their relationship over months? The ADHD in me cannot take the slow burn. We need the fast burn and we need it now. That is all.