#the other day I translated a text for my little sister | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

manicrouge · 11 months ago

Text

An Ode to Serelia

[𝟷𝟾+, 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸] || Part Two

[𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎: 𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝚂𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 01/01/24

[𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝]: Displeased is the siren who weeps, a sister stolen leading to her finding the man who helps her to her feet.

[𝙲𝚠]: blood, graphic violence, torture, gore, body horror, violence, character death, murder, loss of a parent, angst, mention of suicidal thoughts, smut, loss of virginity, creampie, inexperienced!reader, possessive!Simon

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 23,720

𝙿��𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 If you're intrigued in the music I listened to writing, there's a link to the spotify playlist, enjoy !!

[𝙰/𝙽]: HIIII !! This is the story I mentioned the other day on my blog, it's here, it's written (hopefully to a decent standard) and it was a lot of fun to write and I hope you have fun reading it !! Also I did change up the appearences of sirens a little for the sake of being #unique and #different. Greek mythologies version would have been interesting, though I'm unsure how exactly a bird with the head of a woman would translate into a cod fanfiction so please forgive my creative liberties.

Also, there may be the possibility for a part two cause I have an idea if you would like that pls let me know!!

Comments are always appreciated, please let me know what you think... unless you think it's the worst thing you've ever read, then tell me, but in a nicer way pls, i.e. 'bless you, you tried' or 'hmmm, I've read better, good try though!'

(I'm very sensitive).

HAVE FUN!!

P.s. Rhymezone and me were besties while i was writing this. Also I figured out how to make the text tiny... I'm learning guys!!! And sorry for it being so long, tumblr was literally lagging near the end of writing this whoops.

Also!!! Share any request you have for me in my 'Ask me anything'!! I'd be happy to write more alt aus with different characters :))

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Illuminated in the night, entranced by the tide, the sailors always come to you, such a mistake they make, too little too late, for they can never ever run. Foolish mortal men, sinking into the watery depths of a sirens den, for a woman in the sea is never just a friend.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

In the dead of night, you awake to a glow. It's seemingly stretching out its arms, calling out to you.

The orange light bends and warps with the movement of the sea, the rolling waves and glaring light for the moon creating a mixture of light which creates a celestial shimmer on the scales on your tail, reflecting off of your black eyes as you turn your head up in its direction.

The muscle in your chest is pounding, muffled words running through your ears as you keep your eyes trained on the light pushing its way from the shore all to make its way to you.

A full moon is never a good thing, although, submerged in the depths of the sea, you find it difficult to make out the shape of the glowing orb in the sky.

Her light confirms your worst fear, though, your eyes struggle to make anything out.

Even at night, the coral surrounding your bed is sleeping, nature reserving its strength for another troublesome day of battling against the grubby hands of the legged folk who rule both land and sea with an iron fist.

'Don't go meddling with the folks of the land, my dear, for trouble is the only thing ye shall find.'

It's the lesson of your mother which courses through your mind, like a shock of adrenaline through the body, a dopamine which has your hands trembling while sitting in quiet contemplation.

Land folk are dangerous, maniacs who believe they can possess the land and all that walks upon it.

To own the world, you would have to be mother nature herself, even then, her presence is discounted for because one of the land folk has in abundance what she lacks: golden coins.

You're familiar with these things, these little circular items they carry on their being, sometimes in small leather pouches, recalling a few of them being in the pockets of silly sailors who though they had the right to the place you and your sisters called home.

During their time spent, they toyed with the land as though she herself can not feel, taking and taking, so much so, you feared your initial silence to their actions would have resulted in you being damned for an eternity.

They massacred most of the fish, took your food as though it was theirs to take, discounting the creatures in the surrounding water. Greedy were the city folk, both of these golden things and your food, so, you followed the rule your mother had introduced.

Holding you on her lap, she looked at you and your delicate little frame, placing her hand against the wound on your tail.

Blood drifted in the the water, swirling with the current of the water and you sniffled in your mothers lap.

How terrible the wound was, throbbing as she plucked seaweed from out of the ground, using it to cover the cut.

The wound had been the fault of the land folk; they mistook you for a fish you supposed, though your little mind really didn't care to stop and acknowledge the truth of what happened.

The hook they had caught your tail with sat beside your mother and as she picked it up, she held it before you, watching as your eyes grew wide, nearly bulging from out of your little head as you began to squirm on her lap. What a monstrous little thing that contraption was, causing such hurt when it was the size of seashell. Keeping it in your view, she shushed you, opening her mouth, showing you her pointed teeth as she cupped your face with her other hand.

'My poor Urchin,' she lamented, 'it can do no harm now; it's not in the hands of the city folk, it's in mine,' she soothed, yet, despite her words you found that your throat was clogged as you recalled the morphed faces of the men who had caught sight of you when you had been caught.

'Is it because we hurt the bad people that they're doing this to the ocean?' you quietly asked, choking out your words as the gills either side of your neck opened.

It felt as though the hook had been stuck in your throat, ripping the insides as you struggled to the words out while sitting on your mothers lap. 'Are we bad people, mama?'

'No dear, we protect the sea and do the job the Lord made for us, it is the folks on her back who are the bad people, we're submerged in her soul, you see, keeping her from harms way and the cruel games of the true beasts,' she firmly stated, 'we hide from the enemy, covered in the current of what gives life to take the lives of those who are much too greedy for this world,' she lectures, 'so you mustn't pity the land folk; if they stray too far from their home and into yours, it is your duty to keep them away.'

'Even if we hurt them?'

'A lesson taught, is a warning sent, my dear,' she sweetly said, 'for a thieves broken neck is easy to repent.'

You acted that day as your mother had intended all those years ago: cruel, brutal, and unforgiving.

By the time you had finished, the water surrounding you was branded with their blood.

You gasped and choked, spitting out chunks of sailor from out of your teeth, plucking chunks of their cotton shirt out of your mouth the remains of a fish bone; it was far too stuck for you to use your nails, no matter how sharp they are.

You cleaned your teeth, watching as the bodies with their organs descended to the bed of the ocean with their gold coins in your hands while their pockets were filled with stones.

It was payment for their crimes and in death, they paid you to keep their bodies down, away from their families, for, you thought of the children on the coast.

They very well may be human, but they are undeserving of seeing one of their own in such a way.

You felt little when as you watched them sink, and upon reflection, all you ever feel is remorse for your silence.

Had you acted sooner, well, you suppose it would have saved you a trip to the deeper part of the ocean when hunting for food.

In the midst of your exhaustion you find your thoughts again, realising in your moment of contemplation, the little light grew closer to the edge of the coast.

Placing your hands against rocks, you push yourself from out of your reserved mellow cove, cocking your head to the side as you reach your hand outwards toward an orange fleck of light which greets you with open arm.

Exiting the cave, a flurry of bubbles pour pass your lips as their chants grow louder, as though they too are underwater.

Your pointed ears twitch as you push forwards through the water.

Your eyes are heavy as you push through the water, growing closer and closer to the source of the light, the sudden shift in the brightness causing them to sting.

You keep your eyes on the mysterious glow, rubbing your face with your hand, the long nail on your pointer finger catching the edge of your lip. Hissing, you watch as a faint trail of rouge seeps from your mouth, pressing the tips of your finger into the wound. Still, your eyes are unmoving, much too interested in the glowing beyond on the water.

Then, you hear voices.

It's the voice of humans, their low grumbles, cheers and chants causing the water surrounding you to vibrate from their ferocious tongues.

'I found one papa!'

Shifting, you turn your head towards the surface.

Whatever they have found is not for their hands, you sure of that much, and your stomach grows weary.

Oh, what catastrophe are they going to muster tonight? What are they going to use for sacrifice?

Your throat begins to knot, its as though someone is pressing their hands around the gills on you neck as your mind races.

One by the ocean is one of your own. Who else would have landed up on the shore? But it can't be, no it mustn't be; they're smarter than that.

No one else is awake at this hour, you have the consciousness of only yourself and the land folk.

Why would an Urchin be so far out that the spliced fingers of man could get to her?

No, they're in their caves, keeping their ears out for the horn of a ship, or perhaps the merry song of a sailor.

As you break the surface of the water, the waves of the ocean brush against your head, rain pouring from out of the sky, The breeze against your skin rendering you breathless.

You're guilty of feeling a crude interest take hold of you as you peer towards the sure, before ultimately deciding to succumb to temptation, following through your curiosity in the hopes to find what has caused such a disturbance.

It's difficult to see, your eyes are trained for the sea, you have little experience on land and the light above is much harsher than the gentle streams beneath the surface.

As you push forward, keeping most of your body underwater, your ears are greeted with more howling.

Their's excitement seeping from off of their tongues, they're bemused with their discovery.

Perhaps it's one of their rituals; you've found, through the time you have been watching them, they're terribly fond of the sacrifice of their own. Their disregard for the very thing they grew from is disheartening, a reflection of their characters.

Their form of sacrifice is truly despicable, against the order of nature, but they do not care for their own. One could be starving at a table full of food, the very table they set, yet, forbidden from touching a single thing all because of another's self importance.

Yet, it is you and your kind who are the monsters.

It's at times like this you long for your mother.

But, with the rain battering the backs of the humans as they form a circle around their special find, you find both her absence and the shyness of the moon leaves crude goosebumps covering your body as you shift in the water.

'MONSTERS,' a silk tone calls as you grow closer and closer, yet, you are forced to stop; the tide is upset, the moon displeased at such a display of savagery.

The thing in your chest stops, your webbed hands forming fists as you crane your neck forward.

'Monsters you are! Let me go,' the voice cracks as more cheering ensues.

'Cover her mouth,' demands one, 'keep her from singing her murderous song; her voice is as sweet as honeysuckle and it is her barbed tongue which has taken our brothers from us, and we will not let it take us! This is for the men we have lost to the creatures of the sea!'

You watch as the waves grow stronger, the rain landing with a slosh against the sea.

It's difficult to keep yourself in one place, both the fire in your chest and the shoving formation of the water urging you to go forward. You know her tone, though it is shredded and brutal as she speaks, unlike the sweet songs you savour.

Serelia.

'No!' she screams, ripping her vocal cords as you see a webbed hand appear from the circle of bodies, blood dripping from down a wound you spy on her shoulder.

Gripping the sand on the shore, the waves from the water brushing against the tips of her fingers and you feel the crashing body of water forcing you forward.

'Please, we would do no harm if you did none to—'

Opening your mouth, you will a tune to escape you, to pull them away from her to give her time to return to her home. Only, your much too choked up as water floods your mouth, the foul weather proving to work in mans favour.

Pushing yourself further up, you open your mouth, letting out a ghastly wrench as a sudden flood of coldness fills your veins, pulling at your tongue, keeping it pressed against the bottom of your mouth. Your lips quiver from the temperature as you attempt to pry a tune from out of your clogged up mouth.

'I- Illuminated—' you swallow another mouthful of water.

Her hand disappears.

You watch as a hand grabs her wrist, hearing her squeal and scream.

The circle of bodies disperses as you see the ends of her tail held in the forearms of a man.

There's a fire in your eyes, a fire enough to leave the sea bloody as your scaled skin and blackened eyes catch a patch of red staining the sand.

The sea betrays you as it sweeps up, carrying away grains of the red sand as the land folk hold their torches up in celebration as blood drips down onto the sand, the ruined blue scales of your sister turning purple in the light of the moon with the mixture of blood which pours from her wounds.

You watch in horror, hands slapping against the water as you look towards the moon nestled in the sky, peering down at you.

In the light of Luna, you recall her face.

Her innocent little face, doe eyes, cheery grin, how her nose would crinkle at the slightest accusation whenever she had done something particularly troublesome. The colour of her tail, how she looked when she sat upon the rocks singing her merry songs for the passersby to listen to.

A gift for the men she was, a gift spoiled by their grubby, wretched hands.

A sister as such spoke with a silk tongue, cohesive, one of your most prized possessions. A chest of jewels from horrid humans simply never compared to the life of one of your own, nothing.

Not even their dastardly golden coins.

Your head grows light as you keep your eyes trained on the humans marching forward, the light from the sticks they carry in their hands growing weary in the distance as the wind grows stronger. It's all too much, the sight of one of your own, the knot in your throat keeps you from gulping down necessary gulps of air. You feel nauseous, an icy chill freezing the blood in your veins.

Sinking back to the depths, your hand is forced and you're kept away from the dreary sight as the current drags you back under.

In the warped complexion of the surface, you see the moon still staring at you and you bark out in fury, 'you backstabber,' you roar, 'I saw my mother in you and you have betrayed our own for keeping you safe,' you continue onwards in your fury, your face contorting as you point up towards the surface.

'She has done nothing, as innocent as an Urchin can be, and you take her? Why not me?'

The current grows displeased.

'We give our lives, all our lives... my mothers,' you heave, placing a hand against your chest, 'I know not the secrets of the land, I don't possess the means to go upon the surface, how- how do we get her back? Why? Why would you take her and not me?' you choke out.

She shifts in colour, you spy her eyes growing red as you look upwards at her. 'She does not deserve to be a part of their game, neither did my mother,' you cry, 'take me, I'm offering myself up, leave her—'

There's a pull in the current, the rolling waves above the surface plunging downwards with a spiralling head.

You meet the eye of the storm, bubbles escaping your mouth as you bring your hands to cover your face. It hooks you, pulling you into as a ton of water comes crashing down into the small pocket of air you have become trapped in.

The last thing you catch before you're senses are flooded with darkness is the red glint in Luna's eye before you descend into the abyss.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It's with the crude calls of village folk that he leaves his post.

There have been some form of disturbance for the past couple of nights, and after the first ending him standing on the shore of the town, his eyes being battered with the wind and sea, he found he has little interest in part-taking in the games of the fools. Fortunately, as he raises from his post, peering from out the window, he hears a shift behind him.

His eyes are unmoved by the chaos beyond the warning, his lids only lifting when he catches a child rushing ahead of the crowd of people.

His words are lost in the hollers of the crowd, though, he bounces with such excitement, the type that can only be likened to when a child gets money for chocolate, or even a new toy.

Only, he's acting as though he has won the biggest and best chocolate bar, his little head bobbing as he bounds down the cobble streets, his hand wrapping firmly around an elder mans wrist, tugging him along eagerly.

From behind him, he hears the scrape of a chair and a weary sigh. 'Another call for me? Swear, they cause mischief in the dark they do,' he comments with a hearty chuckle.

Turning away from the window, the red glow from the fire on the end of their torches lights emits an orange light in the room, though, the man before him is covered as stray arms of light stretch beyond his bulky frame, merely able to catch even the side of the man with a mohawk's face.

'Has Price told y' what they're up to? It's been every fuckin' night for weeks straight,' he asks, tugging down the edge of his mask, tilting his neck either side, a crude snap emitting as he does so.

The man standing in front of him offers him a toothy grin, crossing his arms over his chest with a short nod. Muscles bulge against the white cotton clinging to his frame and he readies himself by undoing the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt, pushing the sleeves to the crease of his forearms.

'Apparently, they're lookin' for merfolk or somethin', y'know what Captains like, doesn't 'ave the time for stupid shit like this,' he explains, 'read too many fuckin' fairytales if y' ask me. Couple ships disappear off of the coast and they believe a fuckin' fish did it?' He breaks out into a spell of roaring laughter. 'They call 'em sirens.'

'Sirens?'

'Aye,' nods the slightly shorter man, rubbing the stubble on his face with his hand. 'Sirens,' he adds, 'lore men to their deaths with their songs they do, supposedly, prettier than any lass on the land... sounds like a story written by a man, eh? Beautiful bonnie's with a good throat on em', paradise if y' ask me,' he proceeds to laugh even harder at his own joke, kneeling over as he does so.

It takes a brief moment for him to realise the masked man standing before him is unmoved by his comments.

Awkwardly, he comes to a sudden stop as he peers up at the man, slowly adjusting his posture, using his hands against his knees to steady himself as he notes the red lights behind him have disappeared.

'Suppose I should go and fetch them back,' he quietly grumbles, 'keep an ear out though, won't ya, Ghostie? Needa make sure they don't try n' sacrifice me to the sirens!'

'Affirmative,' he says briefly, turning his attention away from him, listening to his footsteps against the floorboards as he tucks his gloved hands into his pockets. 'Johnny,' he calls out.

The footsteps stop.

'Doesn't count if I find out y' went into the water to find them yourself,' he warns, looking over as the man nods his head, 'I'll drag you back in and sacrifice y' myself.'

'Gonna take more to get rid of me than that, Lt,' he answers, pushing the door open, 'throw a pint of ale in the sea, an' maybe, just maybe you'd get what y' want,' he laughs, walking out of the door with his hand pressing on the handle of the sword sitting at his waist.

The taller man stands and watches as he disappears into the dead of night, shaking his head in his direction.

'Fuckin' hell,' he grumbles to himself before turning his attention back to the chair he'd perched himself upon, grabbing the dagger he had set down onto the table, grabbing the cloth sitting beside it before kicking his feet back up onto the table, watching as Johnny disappears past the window, heading towards the crowd of chaos.

Turning his attention back to the dagger, he eyes himself in the refection, noting the redness of his eyes before rubbing the cloth over its smudge surface. 'Lost their fuckin' mind, can never excuse shit in a reasonable,' he grumbles to himself, 'better chance of Price quitin' smoking than there is the chance of fuckin' sirens,' he continues on, lifting his head when the candle perched on his desk flickers.

'Bloody lunatics.'

As he sat in the silence of the station, he finds his mind wandering. It's unusual for his mind to ever really escape him, although, with the sight of that little boy jumping up and down in such a manner he finds it difficult to shake a niggling feeling which is poking and prodding at his temple.

His excitement was evident, that much was obvious the longer he focuses on the memory.

If such is the case, if there is truly something behind the little boys excitement, he's there, sitting on his ass, doing absolutely nothing while the man is left to deal with everything to come from whatever has been found. There's something different about the tone of the people, he sees it well.

Terror trickles in, one head at a time, passing by the window in a manic flurry.

At first, he doesn't notice, far too interested in the blade he'd pulled from the sheathe resting on his belt to see the chaos unfolding beyond the window of the station. Their words a muffled, and they seem distant as he eyes the popped blood vessels in the white of his eyes. Moving the metal closer to his masked face, he narrows his eyes, rubbing the cloth over the blade again.

The door bursts open, and while unnerved, outwardly he remains still, snapping his head around.

The man who had left no more than fifteen minutes ago is back, his face wind swept and pale as he heaves out heavy breaths, keeping his arm firmly against the door.

His white shirt is soaked through to the skin, the pinkness of his flesh peeking out from under the fabric, his calf high boots marked with wet sand, crunching as he steps a single foot into the Station, not daring to take one more.

It's easy to read his face, though he finds his brow creasing as he realises that the very look on his face is fear.

Immediately he stands up from his seat, the flame of the candle beside him flickering as he does so. Tossing the cloth onto the table, he sheathes his knife, grabbing his coat from off of the back of his chair, throwing it over his shoulders.

'What?' he asks, 'a fight break out or somethin'? Look like you've seen a ghost,' he breaths.

Johnny doesn't offer him a response for a moment, only looking up towards him with wide eyes, unable to pick his jaw up from off of the ground.

'Fucks sake, Johnny, what—'

'Siren,' he says quietly.

It's difficult to catch what he says with the rain hitting the window and street beyond the office. His lips curve into a crooked smile beneath his mask as he shakes his head.

Sirens? Is he fucking stupid?

The expression on his face doesn't change, even when he hears the small laugh escaping the confines of his mask.

'A lass was on the shore n' she has a fuckin' tail!' he exclaims, pushing himself up after catching his breath, 'tail blue as the sea, eyes black as the void... they bloody exist.'

'And where is she now? She go back into the water to swim off with her friends, hm?' he asks, 'ride away on the back of a horse with a horn on its forehead and wings too?' he scoffs, shrugging his jacket off, only for a hand to reach out, grabbing his forearm.

'Still on the beach.'

'The beach?'

'Aye.' he says, 'ran as fast as I could, woke Price 'n Kyle up, 'told them they had to get to the beach quick. If they keep hold of her, they're gonna kill her- she's a bloody mess, cryin' and screamin'.'

He pinches himself to make sure he's still awake while staring at the soaked man. In no way can he find a single thought in his mind at this moment to make anything make sense.

In fact, he feels a prickling heat flooding his flesh the longer he stands and processes what has just been relayed to him.

They're real, they're real and they have found one.

Despite the implications, it's difficult for him to miss the worry in his tone, and while what they deem to be a monster has just appeared off the coast of Lakekeep, he's still worrying about its safety.

'We have to go, they're gonna kill 'er, Ghost.'

Fixing his coat, he looks down at the dagger resting at his hip, giving a short nod as the man lets go of his arm.

'Price and Gaz followin' along?' he asks.

'Aye, didn't believe me at first,' confesses the man with a short laugh, 'still can't believe it meself and I've seen it with my own eyes,' he says, stepping back out into the rain.

Ghost follows after him, slamming the door of the Station shut as the head down the cobbled path, their boots splashing in the puddles forming in the tight streets as the rain hits the ground harder.

Their chants carry through the village, washing over the usual silence like a tidal wave, flooding his senses with cries and pleads.

As they edge closer, he can hardly believe it as a woman's voice bellows out, 'MONSTERS!'

It's brittle and broken the way she cries, and oddly, he feels that the voice tugs at his heartstrings.

'Mustn't listen to her speak, Lt,' he says, 'what they said is true, apparently the boy found her on the shore and when he approached her, he heard her hummin' a tune- said it had him in a trance,' Johnny says, looking to him.

'Monsters you are! Let me go!'

Stepping down off of the stone steps, the pair of the pursued the scene, hearing stray voices fall from out of the crowd, demanding that her mouth be covered in order for them to fulfil some form of revenge. Watching on, he catches the appearance of a bloody webbed hand poking out from the crowd, landing against the shore with a wet slap.

It's as though she's reaching out for something.

Following the line of her forearm, he watches as the sea climbs up the shore, touching the tips of her fingers as she continues to scream and cry.

Moving his attention from off of the beach, he looks to the water, eyeing the crashing waves as the wind sweeps the fabric of his long black coat to the side. The water is restless, and with the rain pouring from the black sky, it's difficult to make much out that isn't just raging water.

Although, in the glow of the torches which whip and wind in the wind, the light covers a fair distance beyond land, and he spots something in the water. In the darkness, it's difficult to make out more than a silhouette of what appears to be a human head. Only, after another crashing wave, he catches sight of pointed ears either side of the head.

Something is watching them, yet no one sees it.

'No!'

The scream from the centre of the crowd rips him out from his trance as he turns his head, following after Johnny.

'Please, we would do no harm if you did none to us. Please, let me go!' she screams with all her might, her voice piercing to the ears of everyone in the surrounding area.

The crowd dips as they shift, covering their ears with a harsh wince.

Finally, she's unveiled to him.

A gash in her head is pouring blood down her bare breasts as she fights and writhes against the hold of the hold of the men who keep her captive. Her ginger hair is matted and covered with the blood and sand, as is the rest of her body.

The slits on the side of her neck, similar to the ones on a fishes body open and close as she lets out muffled cries.

His eyes trail further down her battered body, the sight of a blue tail stained with blood greeting his gaze. In the light, it appears almost purple as the blood mixes with the shimmer of her scales.

Screwing her eyes shut, she fights with all the fury in her being, and as he watches her, he feels the same heat he felt at the station creeping back onto him, and despite the harshness of the weather, the warmth beaming from his skin is enough to keep him from shivering.

'Alright, move out of the fuckin' way!'

It's the voice of his Captain bursting through the chaos of the surrounding area.

Turning to look over his shoulders, he catches sight of Price and Gaz walking down the beach, and with ease, Price holds his hands up, his words catching the attention of the the booming crowd.

Silence falls upon them, the sirens cries mixing with the crashing sound of the ocean. The man moves past both himself and Johnny, Gaz standing between the pair of them as he parts the crowd with an astonishing ease.

The gasp that passes his lips when making it to the centre is enough to make even his blood run cold.

There's a moment of silence, the sound of the torches whipping against the wind as he keeps his eyes trained on the back of his Captains head.

Clearly, the cogs are turning, expecting what Johnny had told him to be that of a stupid joke, only, it isn't.

It's real and it's squirming around on the ground, staring Price right in the eyes.

'She's a murderer!' a voice shouts from the crowd, 'her and her people, she said it herself,' the continue on, fury carrying their tone past the cries of the woman on the ground.

Price continues to look at her, and as he looks over his shoulder, catching his eye, he turns back to the woman on the ground.

'Take her in,' he says with a firm nod, 'we'll put her in a cell in the Station for now, figure out what to do with her later,' he continues, looking at the two men who held her arms, 'carry her back to the Station,' he rules, resting his hands on his hips as he observes all the other faces in the crowd, 'as for the rest of y', funs over for tonight, get back home,' he demands.

'We'll take it from here. '

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You awake with a brittle moan.

Your mouth is full of send, a dull ache radiating from your chin as your forehead creases when you look ahead of yourself. You teeth bite down on the sand in your mouth, a disgusting crunch causing you to wince.

Memories are stubborn, not wanting to come back to you, only allowing you to recall the sight of blood on the beach and the crashing waves around you.

With a grunt, you attempt to push yourself up off of the ground, a grunt escaping you as your breasts push against the sand. Tearing your eyes from off of the beach in front of you, you shiver as you feel the water wash up, brushing against your limbs.

Looking to your hands, a startled gasp escapes you as you hold one out in front of your face. No longer are they webbed, no, instead, your fingers are separated. Curling your hand around the dark sand before you, you clench it in your fists, watching as it poured past it. Your hips ache as you shift, placing your cheek back against the sand.

Your head is spinning, you can't think of a single thing aside from the fact that your mouth is dry, horrifically dry.

You muster up what little spit you can, expelling grains of sand as the spit clings the your bottom lip, dribbling down the side of your mouth.

The water moves further up, and as you go to move your tail, you're startled by the sound of footsteps on the beach beside you, only, you're too tired to even check who it is.

I've failed as a sister, so if I must go out like this, then I will.

'Ma'am! Oh fuck, ma'am, are you okay?'

The tone is light, different to what you expected to hear counting you have washed up onto the very same coast you had seen Serelia on the night before... if it was even the same day as her disappearance, that is.

The sand crunches beside you as a shadow looms over you, keeping you from the brutal beams of the sun, a hand pressing against your shoulder.

Picking your head up, you muster out a pained whimper as you look at the man in front of you. Concern is etched on his brow as he stares down at you, shrugging off a piece of clothing, resting it against your shoulders.

Your eyes are narrow as you keep your eyes trained on him, unable to look anywhere else as he carefully places his hand against your cheek.

'Can you tell me your name?' he gently asks.

You swallow hard, your chapped and cracked lips pressing together.

Your eyes grow heavy.

You hear another curse under his breath as exhaustion rattles your body. Your head falls heavy and his hold on you slips away, gently placing your head back against the ground. You hope he leaves you be, allows the sea to swallow you whole so you can be with your own once again.

Two firm hands press against your shoulders, gently guiding so you're lying on your back.

His shadow keeps the sun from you once again as he scoops you up into his arms, keeping a firm grip around your shoulders and tail. his hand slips slightly as he uses his jacket to cover your breasts, and you shift when you feel his hand move lower, being extra cautious to cover up your tail.

His breathing is rough as he rushes up the beach with you in his arms, every step causing you to shift or hiss.

'Sorry, love,' he softly apologises, pulling you closer. You note how his pace slows upon him noticing the pain he's causing you by running, 'do you know where we are?' he asks, looking down at you.

Cracking your eyes open, the back of your neck burns as you attempt to look back at him. Poking your tongue past your lips, sand scrapes against the back of your throat as you open your mouth, all for a hoarse croak to escape your lips.

'Have to get you somethin' to drink,' he says firmly, 'you're okay now, love, I promise,' he reassures, pulling you closer to him.

You muster up a short 'hm', resting your head against his chest, listening to the little muscle in it thumping as he heads up the stairs, taking your further away from the beach.

The pair of you remain in silence and you hear the passing giggles and whispers of passersby as he keeps you against him.

You're unsure of what they're saying, though you're sure they're most likely laughing at your tail.

It's surprising hearing such a humorous reaction from them, figuring they would respond in a similar manner to how they did when you had heard Serelia screaming on the shore.

Mustering up a grunt, you flinch as your body is lightly pressed into a door. It squeals as it opens, and the very first thing you hear is a booming voice. It causes the dull ache in your head to worsen as you flinch.

'Am tellin' ye, it's straight out of a fuckin' fairytale it is,' booms the voice, 'can y'—'

There's silence.

Your eyes crack open as you observe the room you're in.

It's different to home, there's a rich smell, similar to the smoke from the lights on the beach.

'Found her on the beach,' confesses the man holding you, 'Johnny, go get some water, please,' he asks, 'she's got a mouthful of sand, she can hardly speak.'

There's a short answer, you can't quite hear it, as he moves you further into the room, setting you down.

Your damp hair hits the plush fabric of a pillow and something is pulled over your body. It's light, harmless.

'Where was she?' asks an unfamiliar voice. It's low, his accent is thick and as you turn your head to the side, you note the man has a thick brown beard, his hair quite short. Stepping towards you, he rests his large hand on your forehead. 'She's burning up.'

'She was near the same spot as last night where that... siren was,' he says.

It's as though life is breathed into you as you quickly sit up, ignoring the dizziness wrecking your mind. The man quickly pulls his hand from off of your forehead, moving it to your shoulder. 'Calm down, love,' he gently instructs, looking to the man standing beside you, 'you reckon she was attacked by it?'

'Could have been; she seems shaken,' he confirms.

Confusion hits you as you lift your tail, only to find that is has vanished.

As you lift your legs, a distraught gasp escapes you as you catch sight of legs.

Two legs- the same as the three men in the room have.

Quickly, you slap your hands to the side of your ears, your chest heaving as you realise your ears have shrunk, resembling that of the legged folk. Everything seems to come tumbling down in front of you, your head pounding as your eyes begin to sting.

'Hey, hey, you're fine,' hushes the man who found you on the beach. The door opens again and a cup of water is handed to him. Taking a seat beside on the bed beside you, he brings to the cup to your mouth. 'Have a drink,' he instructs.

You want to tell him no, to demand to know what they have done to her, yet, you know you can't do anything until you have something to drink.

So, you press your dry lips against the rim of the cup, allowing him to pour it into your mouth. The feeling is euphoric, unlike any sensation you've ever dreamt of, and you eagerly swallow down mouthful after mouthful of water, taking the cup in your own hands.

You're aware of the eyes on you, but you don't care, drinking from the cup until it is empty. With heaving breaths, your wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, keeping tight hold of the cup.

A hand settles against your knee, and as you look back up, the man who was sitting in the corner is now standing behind the two closest to the bed. You note the man who brought you water has an odd haircut, while the much taller man's face is completely covered aside from his eyes.

It's strange, the fabric of a thick hood pulled over is head, his eyes peering through the holes of a skull.

Is that real?

'Sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to upset you,' says the brown-haired man, squeezing your bare shoulder.

You look at him with your lips pressed together, bringing the cup closer to you as you swallow hard.

Despite his caring words, you find yourself unable to open your mouth- unable to trust him. He's going to hurt you if he finds out what you are, then what? You're forever bound to their land?

'What's the last thing you can remember before you washed up on shore?' he asks.

You look at him with beady eyes, and the man with his hand on your knee pats you gently, 'you're safe here, we're not gonna hurt you,' he reassures. 'You seemed panicked when we mentioned the mermaid, does it have something to do with her- or more of them?'

Your mind is racing trying to piece together a narrative.

Confirmation that she was the thing that put you in such danger will surely be a death sentence- if she isn't already dead. Living with that on your consciousness is a horrid thought to even think of, so, you distance yourself away from creating an accusation, though you find yourself in trouble as you realise how you reacted to the mention of her.

Essentially, you've acted on impulse and no matter the response, you're unsure if it's going to suffice.

'I- I...' you begin, your throat burning as you bring your hand up to clasp it, 'I was on a ship,' you answer, 'I remember it in water- b- but then there was a storm,' you explain, your voice choppy and broken as you rub your hand up and down your throat finding that even your gills have disappeared. 'The siren,' you begin, clearing your throat, 'she tried to help me.'

'Help you?' mutters the one with a strange haircut. 'How'd she do that, lass?'

'I- I was stuck,' you say, 'I couldn't get out an' she tried to, uh, pull me out,' you explain, 'but she got hurt- it might not even be the same one but... there was one, a good one,' you explain, gulping hard as the masked man standing beside the man with his hand on your shoulder shifts on his feet, his eyes burning into your flesh, the sunken eyes behind the skill mask leaving goosebumps on your flesh.

He's harsher than last nights current.

Keeping your eyes trained on the man, you observe him as he peers down at you, his built frame making you feel small. Most definitely, you do not want to get on his bad side; he could probably crush you with one hand.

'Couldn't have been the same mermaid,' he answers, his tone causing your chest to almost rattle, 'took an entire night for you to even wash up here, you wouldn't have survived if it was her,' he notes, the others around you shaking their heads in a collective agreement.

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, you feel blood coursing through your veins as you look up at him with teary eyes.

Your bottom lip protrudes as water begins to pour from your eyes. It's unlike anything you've ever felt, and, despite your burning eyes, you find the sensation oddly relieving.

You throat grows tight as you sharply inhale, allowing the cup to rest against the covers as you press the tips of your fingers into your cheeks.

A hiccup escapes your lips as your mouth trembles, all the misery of being lost and having lost escaping you in a cathartic sob that causes your entire body to shake.

'I- I don't know where I am, I- I'm scared,' you confess as more water clings to your eyelashes in little droplets, clinging on, only for their grip to fall loose as you blink, releasing more fresh streams onto your flesh.

Releasing a hand off of your shoulder, the man stationed beside you looks to the man who has his hand on you knee, 'you think you can go and get her some clothes? Poor things on show for the entire village to see,' he says. The man purses his lips for a moment, 'she's gotta have something that she doesn't want.'

'Has so many fuckin' dresses she won't even notice one has gone missing,' he says, standing up from off of the bed, 'I'll go and try and find something, as long as I don't take her cyan one I don't think she'll be too bothered,' he shrugs, 'keep an eye on her for me, won't you?' he asks, looking at the three.

The man with the peculiar haircut places his hand against his shoulder, patting it, 'she's in the best hands of the entire village,' he reassures, 'go an' find the lass some clothes, Gaz, we'll kep 'er safe,' he promises.

Gaz. What an odd name.

The rest of their conversation is lost on you as you're far too caught up in the tightness in your chest and the sounds of the screams you heard on the beach the night before to even think about anything else.

Only, when the door shuts, you startle at the sound of the slam, snapping your head up.

'MacTavish, I need you on patrol today,' says the brown-haired man. The disappointment on his face is notable as his eyebrows curl, 'everyone's on edge with the entire mermaid incident, the last thing I need I people trying to cause more trouble or almost drownin' going to find one of their own,' he says, 'speaking 'f which, need to go and check on her myself, make sure the head wound isn't goin' green,' he huffs, turning to the masked man standing behind him. 'Keep an eye out on her,' he states, turning his attention back to you.

Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to bathe in your emotion as you come to terms with the fact that she's alive.

Your eyes meet with his, your heart burning at the sight of pity burning in his gaze.

If things were any different, you very well would have wiped the soft smile off of his face, but you look at your options and his uniform, likening it to one your mother had described to you in the past.

'They like to think they have control, dress up in clothes just to make the isolation of their species more capable,' she explained while sitting in upon one a rock. You accompanied her, looking at her. She had such knowledge of the world beyond the water that you were simply awestruck with every story she told you. 'Fabric makes people listen, they're scared of the people with the golden buttons and sharp metal swords.'

'If you need anything, ask him and he'll get it for you,' he asks, looking over his shoulder at the man.

His tone grows harsher upon the mention of him doing his duty, your eyes falling to the man.

'Won't you, Ghost?

The masked man grabs the chair he was sitting on when you first entered the room, moving it as the brown-haired man and MacTavish move in the direction of the door. The chair settles at the side of your bed, as the pair move towards the door.

'Affirmative,' he grunts, taking a seat beside you while the two leave the Station, leaving you alone with the masked man called Ghost.

You look at him briefly, swallowing hard.

It's difficult to sit in silence, your stammering breath a reminder of all you've lost.

Beady eyes look at the masked man as you attempt to choke up the courage to say something to him. Despite sitting, his frame is much bigger than anyone else's you have ever seen, and as he leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, you flinch.

'Where's the mermaid?' you ask.

You watch his eyes scan the area surrounding you.

The fabric of his black mask moves as he sucks in a breath, 'can't say,' he confesses, 'confidential; unsure if anyone is listening out to try an' find her. If word gets out where she is, she'd be dead by tonight- if not sooner,' he explains.

'Why do they want her dead? Has she done something to you?'

You want to scream.

The man beside you is short with his responses, speaking of her as though he understands the whole picture, when in reality, their confinement of her is a crime punishable by death.

'She said somethin' she should've have,' he answers simply.

His words drag against his throat as he speaks to you.

'Oh,' you muster, resting your back against the wall behind you.

'Where were you goin'?' he asks.

You raise an eyebrow in his direction, tilting your head as you attempt to process what exactly he means by his statement.

'You said you were on a boat and you were rescued by one of the sirens,' he reminds you, your face flushing with colour as you realise you have already forgotten the tale you were twisting.

'I was with my sister,' you say, 'the memory is quite fuzzy,' you confess, knowing your knowledge of the surrounding land is limited to a map of the sea, not what is beyond it. 'It was for one of her trips, she was travelling to see her husband and then the storm hit.'

'The sea isn't too fond of forgiveness,' he remarks.

'Neither is the land,' you say, falling back into the security of the covers over you, allowing your back to slip from off of the wall, lying down.

Pushing himself up, he looks down at you, mustering a small hug as you sleeping exhale.

All the emotion and crying has your eyes drooping, disregarding your conversation. The man doesn't judge you for that, however, as you watch him looking over you with gentle eyes behind the mask.

'Get some sleep,' he says.

You expect him to say more to that, yet, instead, he pulls his chair from beside you, moving to it back to the corner he was sitting in before.

You keep your eyes on his broad back, watching as he sits down, kicking his feet up on to the desk, keeping his eyes out of the window.

Your eyes stay there as you drift off to sleep.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

When the door eventually bursts open, he's quick to send his eyes in the direction of Gaz as he walks through it with a bundle of garments. His mouth is open as he goes to speak, only to quickly shut his mouth when he is eyes falls to you, sleeping in the cot.

Holding the handle of the door, he pushes it shut so the lock clicks as quietly as possible, even going as far as to wince while doing so.

'I managed to find some clothes for her,' he says, 'not sure if I'm going to be a single man when she gets home, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.'

Setting the clothes down on the desk, Ghost stands up, picking the green cotton frock up from off of the table holding it out.

'I've never seen her in it,' Kyle says, 'don't even think she remembers having the thing, so she can't be upset about it if she completely forgot it existed, right?'

'Affirmative,' Ghost responds, 'wouldn't be too sure about it, though. She has an eye for the strangest things,' he warns, to which he laughs.

'You're right with that,' he says, 'I saw the Captain while I was out, he was comin' back from checking on the siren, told me to ask you if you're alright taking the girl in until she can remember what day it is; we can't leave her alone.'

He feels his chest tighten as he looks to you, seeing you peaceful sleep as you turn under the covers, your bare arm over your covered torso. 'You're the only one without someone... not too sure how—'

'I'll do it,' he says keeping his eyes trained on you.

Kyle looks at him with wide eyes.

'Well, she has no money does she? Not like an inn keeper is gonna give up a room for her, and I don't want to pay out of pocket to house her when she can just stay at my place.'

The man in front of him grins brightly.

'She'll hardly be any trouble, I'm sure of it,' he reassures, leaning against the desk, 'did she say anything else to you after I left?'

'She was with her sister on a ship heading somewhere to meet her sisters husband and that's then a storm hit and the ship was swallowed by the sea,' he says, 'she didn't say much, too out of it to really make much sense of the world around her.'

'Poor thing,' Gaz sighs, looking at Ghost, 'be nice to her, hey?'

'Wasn't planning on bein' cruel to her.'

'Good, good,' Kyle nods, 'Price told me to tell you that y' can have the rest of the day off if you get her out of the station, by the way. Take her home, get her something proper to eat and see if she wants to talk about it- he's sending something out to other villages to see if they have anyone who fits her description.'

'Doubt there'll be any news back for a while,' he says, approaching you, 'they don't care much for their own.'

His hand rests upon your shoulder and you grunt.

'I'll leave you to it,' Gaz calls from behind Ghost, 'gonna go and try and catch up with Johnny on patrols, doubt my lady would be too pleased with seein' another girl naked,' he chuckles, heading towards the door.

Waiting until the door is closed, Ghost proceeds to crouch down in front of you, rough hand nudging you again.

Your eyes crack open, a startled gasp escaping as you're greeted with the sight of his bone mask right in front of your face.

He feels you tense in his hands.

'Didn't mean to scare you,' he says, 'got you some clothes to keep people from starin' at you love, and then you're coming back to my place,' he explains.

His voice is softer than the tone he held with you prior and you swallow hard.

'Your place,' you croak, your face burning red from the sudden scare from your sleep.

'Yeah; until you're back on your feet and until that head of yours start workin' you're gonna have to stay here,' he explains, 'Price has sent messages out to local villages, see if any family members pick it up.'

Your face falters.

You're going to be here a while.

'Gaz got you some clothes,' he says, motioning over to the table.

Pushing yourself up, you manage to move your legs so your feet are planted against the floor. Ghost averts his eyes away from you, turning away. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you look at the ground at your feet.

Surely it's not that difficult.

Pushing your self up off of the bed, you take a short breath, your legs wobbling as you land back onto the bed.

Despite being gifted the ability of legs, you find it quite pointless that you cannot use them. The water is much easier to navigate than the land is, that much you're sure of.

Looking up at the man in front of you, you let out a small breath.

'Can you help me?' you ask.

He doesn't bother saying anything to you, simply walking over to the table with the dress on it, it's an ugly green colour and you catch yourself grimacing at the fabric. Though, as soon as his eyes are on you, the sneer on your face fades away.

He's rough in the way he pulls the dress over your head, though you manage to get your arms through the sleeves with ease. It's an odd feeling, feeling the fabric against your skin, the elastic cuffs of the sleeves clinging to your arms.

Helping you to your feet, you stagger forward, your face growing red as you grab his arms for some form of support. Yet, he doesn't move, he doesn't even flinch, busying himself with pulling the skirt down, it stopping mid-thigh.

Your legs tremble as you wince, you grip growing tighter on him as you fight to stay on your feet.

'Guess I haven't quite found my footing after the accident,' you awkwardly laugh, wishing to be relieved of this torture.

Your face is beat red as you continue to curse the moon for putting you in such a position, cursing the your words during that night.

Leading you back down onto the bed, you're quick to let go of his arms as he looks at you. He knows you're not going to be able to walk to his house, and he fights off the urge to huff.

There's something so simple yet so difficult about the task... he's a fucking lieutenant in the village guard and he's been put on babysitting duties.

Be nice to her, hey?

Kyle's voice is like a dagger through his skull, and even though you can't see his face under the mask, he musters up a tight-lipped smile, swallowing all his pride for himself and his position.

'I'll carry you.'

Neither of you are happy about this, though a tight-lipped smile of your own appears on your face.

'Great... thanks.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

His home is humble, quaint, tucked away in a quiet pocket of town.

Pushing open the door, he tilts his head towards the entrance of the house. With uneasy feet, you wobble as you take a step up into his house, his hand grabbing your forearm when you nearly loose balance.

During the course of your travels, you had fought against him, insisting after catching people staring at you for him to put you down and let you walk freely.

At first, he doesn't listen, keeping his eyes trained on the path in front of him, though, fortunately, he relented after you started to squirm in his arms.

It was difficult at first, but you got the hang of it... as long as his arm was around your waist.

It finds its way back around your waist for a short moment as he helps you up the steps.

'Careful,' he utters.

'Thanks,' you respond, holding the sides of the doorframes as you walk into the living room.

It's a quaint and simple little space, although, your cove is much better than this place. Yet, you suppose you cannot be picky while undercover, his hospitality rendering you speechless.

The mystery of the red moon and her tide is still very much fresh and new, you know you must not do something to compromise your safety or your chances of finding Serelia.

Even if it is resulting in you finding shelter in a man with a skull masks home.

Pulling his hood from off of his head head, he shrugged his cloak from off of his shoulders, hanging it up on a wooden stand placed beside the door.

You stand and watch, your arms pressed to your side, still trying to understand how exactly humans manage to stand so straight on their legs.

He turns to look at you, you see his eyes shift under his mask, 'it's not much, and you're going to have to be okay with sleeping on the couch.'

'Much more than what I have right now,' you respond with a soft smile on your face.

'Thank you, Ghost,' you say

'Of course,' he says with a short nod, 'you can help yourself to whatever you want, all I ask from you is to keep out of my room.'

'I can do that,' you reassure, nodding your head.

He doubts you'll even be able to climb the stairs as he can only liken the way you're walking to that of a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time.

He can't complain however; it's entertaining to watch you, and he does so as you make your way over to your new bed, holding your arms out either side to balance yourself before toppling onto the couch with a large exhale.

Sometimes his limited compassion still manages to get him into terrible situations, and as he looks at you, he can't help but worry about what he has gotten himself in for.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After spending some necessary time in his home, you eventually find your feet... both literally and figuratively.

It's difficult for you to stay confined to the four walls of his house, granted, you don't really do much and find joy during your first day there reading through an old shabby collection of books on his shelf.

There's nothing interesting, and you're unsure as to whether or not he himself has read any of them as when you open one, you sneeze from the amount of dust covering it.

It's a fun past time you find, especially during the few attempts of being more steady on your feet. The moon must have heard your complaints as, during the second day, you're nearly unstoppable, aside from the burning in your calves each time you take a step forward.

By the third day, you're almost sprinting out of the house into the village.

It's difficult to adjust to first.

The land is unknown to you, yet, you don't threat.

Instead, you search the village high and low, walking into every store, listening to every conversation of the locals in the village. You feel your skin crawl whenever you hear their laughter, though, it's as though talk of the siren has disappeared completely.

From spending time reading in the library to simply perusing the streets, you're wounded by the lack of information.

Why isn't anyone talking about her? Surely they know where she is; humans hate us and they'll want us gone for the issues we've caused.

The question follows you for a while, only stopping when you see the door open during your fifth night of staying inside Ghost's home.

He appears tired and as his hand moves to his cloak, he quickly stops himself from pulling it down when he sees you in front of him.

It's an odd thing, you've observed him over the past few days, and not once has he shown his face.

Still, you don't care for his habits as you open your mouth over dinner after swallowing a mouthful of food. Your hands is grabbing for the water next to your plate as you state, 'how come no one in town is mentioning the siren anymore?'

He looks at you, chewing under his mask which he holds up after each bite. 'Price has made it a rule,' he states, 'Lords out of town right now on business, until he comes back, we have to hold her per his request,' he explains, 'we've gotta keep her safe and if anyone is heard discussin' her, he's treating it as though it's treason.'

You offer a short nod, going back to eating your food.

'Why?' he eventually asks.

'I just thought, with something as big as this discovery, it would be the talk of the town for years,' you say, 'I thought it was strange, that's all.'

The look he gives you makes you think that he doesn't quite believe what you're saying to him, though, he doesn't press on the matter, going back to eating his dinner.

It's strange to spend time with a human, especially living with them.

He doesn't speak much, only really talking to you at dinner time or greeting you after returning from his shifts around the village to make sure everything is in check.

'You can take the mask off, you know,' you say, observing his discomfort, 'your identity doesn't make a difference to me, besides... this is your home,' you say softy.

Truthfully, the mask is just as much as an annoyance to him as it is to you.

Surprisingly, he listens to your words, pulling the mask tied around the back of his head off of his face allowing you to see his mouth.

Really, he does even know why he committed so long to wearing the stupid thing, growing especially frustrated as dinner grew to be more of a chore than something of enjoyment.

Old habits die hard, he supposes, and the habit of wearing around you died that night thanks to your comment.

While eating, he attempts to ignore your eyes on him, though he is far too aware that you're staring at him, not missing the way your cheeks have a light tinge of red to them.

Grinning to himself, he shakes his head at a crude thought that suddenly pops into his mind, narrowing his eyes as he lifts his head to look at you.

You drop your head immediately, focusing much more on your food than on him, though your embarrassment is difficult to miss.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Simon seems warmer to you after you've been at his house for a little longer. The longer time passes by, the more trips you're taking to the ocean.

It started with one in the early morning, although, you find yourself walking there at the beginning of every day all to talk to the waves, hoping you'll see the familiar face of one of your sisters in the water. Yet, you don't.

Part of you is happy with this fact, not wanting them to see you in such a state wearing the ugly green frock, the only thing you own aside from a pair of sandals which Ghost brought with him upon returning from a shift.

On occasion, you bump into one of the men you saw when you first stop at the station. You learn that MacTavish's name is actually Johnny, and Gaz, the man who found you on the beach, is named Kyle.

They stop to talk to you for a while, sometimes walking with you to the beach where they speak with you.

Nothing interesting really comes from the conversations until, a month into your stay in the village, Johnny blabbers a little too much.

'He enjoys your company, bonnie,' he confesses after complimenting your new pink dress Simon bought you, 'was telling me that he's enjoying giving you little gifts and having you with him for dinner. I'm tellin' you, he like you more than you think.'

'How can he like me when I don't do anything but steal his food and sleep on his couch?'

'Couldn't tell ya, lass, strange man is our Simon.'

You hold your breath.

'Simon?' you ask slowly, a smile creeping on your face.

He slaps a hand over his mouth, his face growing red.

'His names Simon?' you ask, craning your neck forward to look at the blushing mans face.

'Forget I said anything,' he demands, rubbing his face with his hand. 'Please,' he almost begs. 'What I mean to say, lass, is that he does like you, and if you haven't thought of doing something for him, maybe consider it.'

His words follow you into the nighttime as you're helping Simon cook.

It's been something you've been doing for a while, intrigue taking you down the strangest path.

'My mum used to make this soup,' he explains, 'the recipe for it is somewhere, I don't know where it's gone though. It was great for nights like there.'

You hear a bell chime in your ears, thinking back to Johnny's words. Simon doesn't miss the smile on your face.

'What? What did I say?'

'Nothing, Sim-'

You freeze.

The pair of you stare at each other.

'Ghost, I mean Ghost!' you exclaim, holding your hands up, realising that you have most definitely gotten poor Johnny in a hell of a lot of trouble.

'Johnny told you didn't he?'

'He slipped up while he was talking to me today, he didn't mean it and I'm sorry if-'

'Say my name,' he cuts you off quickly and your eyebrows furrow.

'Simon?'

He grins to himself, turning his head away acting as though you have just done him the greatest act of service. 'I like how it sounds when you say it,' he says, going back to chopping up the vegetables, 'much better than Ghost.'

Redness spreads to your cheeks as you admire the look of joy on his face, finding that you want to do that more in order to see that look on his face.

So, as you're eating dinner that night, and even when you're lying on the sofa, you scheme like a criminal.

You toss and turn before you eventually get up and begin your search. Holding a lit candle, your eyes scan through his shelves looking high and low.

You spend what must be hours flicking through books, moving things, looking under the sofa, attempting to squint your eyes to look through floorboard before you find it tucked between the countertop and stove in the kitchen.

Only then can you rest easy, your eyes closing as you think about the mission you have got to complete tomorrow.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Walking through the bustling village main street, you listen to the bright tunes of the surrounding marketplaces, small stalls on either corner of the street, pushing everyone on the main road closer together.

You brush shoulders with a few people, keeping your arms out in front of you as you walk with a basket in front of you, the gold coins Simon has given you per your request rattling in your other hand.

It's rare you're outside as you spend most of your times in the library or back at Simon's home. Though nothing is going to stop you from making Simon the soup he mentioned last night.

Your heart flutters at the thought of how much he has done for you, and as a form of a thank you, you're going through the crumpled up recipe you stole from out of his kitchen, going to different stalls to get the things you need for the recipe.

The trip renders you exhausted, and by the time you're back at his house, you're fighting against sleep as you chop up the vegetable, putting them into the pot. You're unsure if you're doing it right, although, the longer you leave it to simmer, the more it takes the shape of something edible... you suppose.

You keep it on the stove until you hear the door open, and whether or not it tastes good, you're fine enough with the delightful smell that is exuding from the pot on the stove, looking in the direction of the door as it opens and Simon steps into the room.

'You're back,' you cheer, dropping the wooden spoon in the pot, approaching him.

The door shuts and he pulls his takes his hat from off of his head, pulling off his mask.

A crooked smile greets your eyes.

'What's all this?' he asks, his arms resting on your shoulders. It's common now, him touching you, and you sink into his hold on you with a sigh.

'Well, I thought you'd appreciate me making dinner for you,' you say sweetly, grabbing his hands, pulling him through into the kitchen, motioning to the table set. 'Also, you mentioned the old recipe your mum used to make for you, so, I thought I'd try my hand at it, see if I'm a good cook or not.'

He lets out a small ‘hm' as he grabs two bowls from out of the cupboards, placing them down on the countertop beside the stove. His hand hand is touching the small of your back as he grabs hold of the wooden spoon you left in the pot, tugging down the black mask covering his nose and mouth.

You watch, holding your breath as you await his reaction.

'Is it terrible?' you quietly as, looking on his face for any form of reaction, yet, he's unmoved. 'We can get something else to eat if it's really terrible,' you offer, pushing down the cuticles on your nails as you keep your eyes on him.

Setting the spoon back into the pot, he exhales. 'Needs a tad bit more salt, sweetheart,' he gently says, 'but considering this is your first time making it, I think you've done a pretty good job, hey?'

You can't stop yourself from smiling at his gentle words, feeling the warmth of his large hand pressing against your back as he reaches beside the stove, grabbing a salt shaker. 'A little more practice and I think I'm going to have my own personal chef,' he comments, adding some more salt into the soup.

Grabbing the spoon, you stir the mixture, scooping up another spoonful, holding it out to him with your hand underneath it, 'how's it now?'

His eyes are on you as he places his mouth against the spoon.

'Much better,' he says with a smile, 'go sit down, I'll do this.'

'Are you sure?' you ask, feeling him move his hand from off of your back. He gives you a short nod.

'Don't want you to burn yourself, go sit down.'

Over dinner, you share brief words, but it is in the silence and the company of him that you find you're most at peace.

There's nothing from either of you, and you take time to eat the soup you have been working on all day. It's okay, a little on the watery side, and you do think that Simon is still definitely a much better cook that you.

He thinks the soup tastes a tad funny, but he doesn't say it to you.

Such thoughts leave the pair of you to sit together, silently thinking about each other, yet not having the heart to disrupt the peaceful silence.

After dinner, you attempt to help him clean up, only, he refuses your help, requesting you stay in the living room.

'Simon you always do stuff for me,' you whine with a huff, 'let me help you- washing a dish isn't gonna kill me, y'know?

'I have a surprise for you and you're not going to get it if you keep going against what I've asked of you,' he warns, 'be a good girl for me, yeah? Go sit down, I'll be right through and you can have your gift.'

Suddenly, it's like your legs don't work anymore.

Knees almost buckling at his words, you gulp hard, managing out a short breath as you nod your head, not saying another word to him as you approach the living room, taking a seat on the plush sofa, sinking into one of the many black cushions.

Pressing your face into your cupped hands, you fight off the urge to scream at the very fact he only has to speak to you and you melt like butter in a pan.

Death would be easier than this.

Eventually, he reappears holding a box in his hands. Setting it down on your lap, you smile at the sight of a white ribbon tied into a bow. It's a charming sight, and you fight off the urge to rest your head on his shoulder as he sits next to you.

'You didn't have to,' you whisper.

'Well, you don't have many dresses, sweetheart,' he comments, 'my mum would have my head if she found out you only had two dresses,' he said with a short chuckle, his eyes narrowing as he sighs, 'I saw it the other day, been trying think of a good time to give it to you.'

Carefully, you untie the ribbon, pulling the top of the box off, setting it aside.

Peering up at you is a white cotton frock. Small flowers stitched into the open neck of the dress.

Pulling it out, you hold it out in front of you, letting out a squeal as you see the fabric touching all the way to the ground.

You jump into his lap, pressing a firm kiss onto his cheek.

'I love it!' you exclaim, holding the dress to your chest, before quickly pushing yourself off of him, shrugging off the sleeves of the green frock you've had since arriving in the village. 'I don't even wanna wait to try it,' you say brightly.

He watches amused as the fabric falls from off of your body, pooling around your feet. You're unapologetic of your appearance, tits on full show without a single care in the world.

Pulling the white dress over your head, you wiggle your hips as it hugs your waist, covering your legs.

He watches you, his hands on his thighs as you clumsily spin around in a circle, your skirt raising as you do so. 'What do you think?' you ask, 'does it look nice?'

He exhales deeply.

'Was made for you, sweetheart,' he replies with a bright grin on his face, 'gimme another spin.'

Your cheeks flush red, though you comply, your heart swelling at the request.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

In the midst of the night is where you roam free, walking through the streets of the village, treading down to the shore all to sit by the water. You watch as the waves roll in with a joyous glint in your eye, knowing home is right at your fingertips.

But oddly, you find home is also on land in the form of your sister and the tall man with a strange mask.

The very thought of him makes you feel nauseous, the thought of him washing all your sentence just as the waves do the shore.

Dinner tonight was almost too much for you to handle, to have someone so close to you, to feel his hand on your back and to hear the humans terms of affection leave his mouth with the intent of the meeting your ears... everything.

You blame the dress you're wearing too.

You feel like you're betraying the words of your dear mother.

She has warned you time and time again of the dangers of the human folk, and here you are, wearing their legs, missing your tail and your vibrant scales, yet, prepared to throw it all away all to hear him utter your name and call you sweetheart just one more time.

All that for a human who doesn't even know the truth of who you are.

'I thought you were here,' you hear a voice call from behind you, almost submerged in the crashing waves.

Turning your head, you see Simon approaching you, his boots leaving prints in the sand.

Stopping beside you, you turn your head as he sits beside you. 'Why 'ave you come all the way out here at this time?'

'Needed some fresh air,' you mumble, resting your chin against your knees, hugging your legs.

'You'll find her again,' he says.

Your blood runs cold.

'Sure that siren saved her just as she saved you, yeah? You'll be with her again some day soon, and who knows, maybe she's become one of them herself.'

'She'd like that,' you whisper, looking at the tide.

I'd like that too.

'Until you know where she is or receive a letter from home, you're stuck with me,' he says, 'sorry.'

You laugh.

'You've been the thing to keep me sane through all this, Si',' you reassure, 'without you I would've lost my mind. I need you, and what you've done for me means more than anything any else has ever done for me.'

'Thank you,' he speaks with his chest, you can hear the smile on his face as he speaks. 'I've enjoyed the company, it's nice to have someone to come home to, makes a change from the constant silence, gets me down sometimes.'

You will die before he is ever alone again, you're convinced.

Letting go of your legs, you pull away from the shore, moving towards him.

The light of the moon bouncing off of the water illuminates his features deliciously and you can't help but think of how he would look beneath the water where the pair of you could live out your days together.

Placing his hand on your knee, you rest your head against his firm shoulder, letting out a small breath as you look out onto the sea.

'Do you want to go back home to your village?' he asks.

'I don't have attachments to places, only people,' you respond, 'doesn't matter where I am as long as I have the people I care about with me- and if they wish to go somewhere else, then I'll will let them to do so.'

'So, when your sister finds you, you're gonna go back home?' he quietly asks, looking at the calm water.

'I don't know,' you say, 'so used to having you with me, and she's found her love now, she doesn't need me anymore. If she even is still alive that is.'

Leaning into the narrative is bruising, and in his silence you sit and think about whether or not you would return to the sea once you finally know that Serelia is safe.

These are the people who have hurt her, the man beside you is keeping her from you, yet, there you are in his arms, seeking comfort in the idea of living out the rest of your life at his side.

Really, you should want to put the entirety of the village under water.

'I want you to stay,' he quietly confesses, 'too used to y' now,' don't think I could go back to normal if you left.'

The feeling of nausea hits you again.

'I wouldn't know what to do with myself,' you say, feeling his grip on your knee tighten.

He holds his breath and you turn to look at him. Half lidded eyes stare back at you, and you find your hand reaching out to slip beneath the mask of the skull on his face, hooking your fingers beneath the fabric of the mask.

'Can I?'

He looks at you, though says nothing.

As you pull your hand away from his face, he pulls the hood down off of his head, undoing the tie around the skull mask on his face, allowing it to fall onto his lap.

Pulling the mask down, allowing it to pool around his neck, he looks you in the eyes. You stare back, settling your hand against his cheek. As you listen to the calmness of the water and under the watching eyes of the moon, you have little issue in leaning in closer.

His hand finds the back of your head as your lips ghost each others and you can feel hit hot breath fanning against your mouth.

'Am I gonna regret this?' you asks.

'You might,' he replies, 'but I won't judge you for it if y' do.'

Your breaths mingle as your lips finally meet, a soft and hesitant connection which sends shivers down your spine. Its delicate, the feeling of his mouth against yours as he holds you as though you're seconds away from turning to ash, leaving him forever.

And while your lips were against his, the thought of doing such doesn't cross your mind.

Not even once.

Upon returning to his house, you walk past the couch you have been lying on, his hand on the small of your back pulling you past, guiding you up the stairs to his bedroom.

Nothing like what you have read happens, instead, he helps you out of your dress, leaving you in your panties. You ask for nothing from him as you climb into his bed as he undresses.

It's intimate, the feeling of his hot flesh against yours setting a light afire in your stomach as you curl into his side, just as you curled into your cove hidden within the depths of the sea.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Days progress and your search for Serelia quells as you keep an open ear on the talks of the city folk.

You could have ended all of this a lot sooner with a song, louring all of them into the water to give you an ample opportunity, but you haven't.

Some other time you would have, though, you've heard your voice while humming a song as you clean your flesh in the mornings, and it's devoid of the deepness to travel as far as it did while sitting upon the rocks on the sea.

She is still alive and well wherever she is, and you're quite sure she has been moved around quite a bit as a safety precaution, and with Price's willingness to keep her from the wrath of the village folk, you know that at least some of the men in the village are good.

The more days roll on, the softer the touches from Simon grow, and as you're sitting in the village library again, holding a book in your lap, your fingers trace over the words written, leaving your words caught in your throat.

Reading has been the one thing to keep you from the curse of whatever has happened to you, and you find the stories written by humans to be quite amusing.

Perilous speculation at it's finest! Your favourite.

Though, you find it's difficult to breathe as you progress further and further through the books in the library until you were greeted with one covered in dust.

The lady didn't see you pull it off of the shelf when you did, and as the sky grows orange before eventually fading to darkness, you're unaware of the change in workers as you press your thighs together, hot breath fanning against the pages of the book.

Only, it's not the story that has you blushing.

Rather, your own thoughts as you replace the characters in your head, seeing the same set of eyes that have been greeting you for the past week while waking up.

It's wrong and it's dirty, but you can't help but think of him.

Perhaps this is simply how humans show affection, and it's not like you haven't been close to doing it; your bare breasts have been pushed against his chest when the pair of you wake in the dawn, and neither of you have moved an inch during the closeness, relishing in the closeness.

'I've got work, love.'

'I don't care, too comfy for you to leave me.'

Your mouth grows dry as you contemplate whether or not he has thought of you in a similar manner, if the thoughts carry onwards to his mind from your own, or if he sees you in a different manner.

A voice calls out your name, the flame of the candle on the table beside you causing you to jump, and as you look up, you're quick to slam the book shut, clearing your throat as you tightly smile at the man standing in front of you.

'Scared me,' he says to you, 'I thought you were home.'

'I got bored,' you shakily say, gripping the book in your hand tightly, holding it as you push your chair in, 'I got caught up reading.'

Even though you try to keep the book out of his view, you find he doesn't care about the stupid collection of pages, his eyes dragging down your body as though they're scanning for any source of possible harm.

'I'm fine, Si',' you whisper.

He nods shortly, 'c'mon, it's late and you need to eat,' he says, stepping to the side, allowing you past.

Keeping hold of the book, you walk along side the man and out of the library.

'You didn't have to drag me out, y'know?' you ask, walking alongside him.

His eyes fall on you, you know it without even looking at him, your eyes scanning over the words in the book, 'could've left me in the library to live with the books, let the pots of colours ink stain my skin and cover me up. Wouldn't have bothered you every again.'

The book is ripped from your hands, slamming shut as the man standing beside you takes it off of you.

'Strange woman,' he remarks, keeping the book in his right hand as you proceed to walk through the town.

Your frustration is obvious but he clearly doesn't care, you see the way his face settles beneath the mask.

'Strange man,' you remark, 'walking around the village with a skull mask on, especially in the dark.'

He only grunts in response to your words, pulling your book in front of him, looking at the title with a raised brow. 'Saccharine?'

He looks at you with a look telling that he knows what's beyond the pages, the possibility of such making your cheeks flare red as he flicks through the pages.

'What's it about?'

'Uhm,' you look at him with weary eyes, 'it's an... adventure.'

He nods his head.

'An adventure,' he says, eyes scrolling down the page he lands on, reading aloud, ''use that pretty mouth of yours for me, sweetheart, tell me what y' want,' he grunts, watching her squirm below him.''

Your face is bright red.

'Something fuckin' adventure that is, huh?' he barks out a laugh, as you elbow him in the side, snatching the book out of his hands. 'You dirty thing reading that out in public,' he mocks, your throat growing dry as you look at him.

'Shut up,' you grumble, slamming the book shut.

His laughter doesn't cease as you head towards his home, 'maybe I should have left you in the library by yourself.'

You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, longing for the cold ocean to reach right into the village and pluck you right from his side, placing you right back into the ocean.

Grabbing his key from out of his pocket, he heads up the steps to his house. You don't miss the glance he gives you.

'Who says I can't sort it out here?' you ask.

The keys fall from out of his hand.

Reaching down, you snag them before he can even muster the strength to breathe after the comment you've just made.

'You'd have an audience,' he says, grabbing your waist as you put his key into the door, turning it.

'I don't care,' you whisper, placing your hand against his cheek, 'especially if it's you.'

You don't quite process what happens until his lips are pressed against yours, the pair of you clumsily stumbling into his house, a giggle escaping you as he keeps you pressed against him.

The next couple of minutes are lost to clumsy steps, giggles and kisses as the pair of you waste no time rushing towards his bedroom.

Somewhere along the line, your dress is discarded, as is his shirt, all for it to be put on you as you sit in his lap clumsily doing up the buttons as the cuffs fall past your hands.

It's an alien feeling, the feeling on someone's lips against yours despite all the chaste kisses you have shared during sleepy mornings, and as he grabs you with greedy hands, you feel yourself melting into his hold, pressing your chest against his as you stifle out a short sound in delight.

You're unsure what exactly the sound was as it's muffled by your lips pressing against one another's, your hands clutching at his shoulders as his hand holds the small of your waist.

You feel the little muscle in your chest flutter as he tilts your head slightly with his other hand, deepening the kiss.

Keeping your eyes close, you feel as though you are one with the tide of the ocean, your limbs become that of liquid, flowing with whatever he wills as you fall apart in his arms.

Your firm grasp against his shoulders melts away as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck, your chest growing tighter as it grows harder to find gasps to take a breath from the kiss.

Placing another kiss against your plush lips, he pulls away, placing his hand against your cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone, letting out a gentle sigh as he looks at you.

Such gentleness is unheard of, no man should be so kind, yet, here he is, holding you as though you're the most fragile seashell on the seashore, intending to hold you close to keep you as a memory.

There's an odd heat flooding your stomach when he pulls away, a pulsing in the area you're somewhat familiar with. It's a dull ache, a bruising urge and you began to squirm in his lap in an attempt to chase the feeling away.

The feeling of his pants against you brings a satisfying wave over your body, willing to continue squirming in his lap in the hopes to find some form of quick fix. A breathy whimper escapes you as you continue to grind hopelessly in his lap, chasing after the release you so crave.

Only, your his are grabbed by his hands, as he holds you in place, grunting.

'Hurts,' you grumble, your hands falling to grab his wrists in an attempt to pull them away. Yet, his hold on you persists, keeping you firmly in place.

'Please,' it escapes your lips before you even understand what it is that you're begging for, though there's something that you can only describe as longing to extinguish the fiery blaze in the pit of your stomach.

You continue to fight against his hold on your hips, you lips pressing together in an unhappy manner.

There's a glint you spy as desire in his eyes, though, much to your displeasure, he keeps himself from acting on whatever that particular desire is, leaving you teary eyed in his lap.

'Sweetheart,' Simon breathes, shaking his head, 'hey, hey, it's alright, what are you getting teary eyed f'r? Haven't hurt you, have I?' he asks as your try to blink back the tears forming in your eyes. You're frustrated, unable to tell him what exactly you want because, truthfully, you've only read about such in the books in the library during the times he was busy with work.

All of it is new, and you wish for the blessing of experience you wash over you as you look at him with a lingering frustration.

'No,' you say, 'it's not that, it's that I...' you're unsure what to say, so, you let go of his wrist, lifting your hips as you look him in the eyes, placing a hand against your core.

He looks at you with a crooked smile when he finally catches onto what exactly it is, and all you can muster, in pathetic whisper is, 'need you.'

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you're relieved when one of his hands is pulled from off of your hip as he gently moves his hand against you, cupping your cunt, pressing his thumb up in a particular spot.

You let out a whimper at the strange, yet welcome sensation, noting how his hand is far better than your own.

There should be something shameful about this, only you push into his hold, hoping he returns your enthusiasm.

It's in his arms you feel the most safe you have ever felt, even the tide of the ocean cannot compare to him in this moment as he pulls you loser, looking upon you with moons for eyes, conveying the idea that, maybe, he does think you're the prettiest thing he has ever set his eyes on.

Your back is pressed against the bed, the absence of his touch like a dagger through your heart. He looms over you, arms either side of your head. The lack of light, the flickering flame of the candle and the beams of light from moon shooting through the window render you speechless as you look at him.

'My pretty girl,' he utters underneath his breath, his hand brushing under the cotton shirt, moving further up your skin. Goosebumps form on your flesh as he does so, cheeks red the longer he keeps his eyes on you. 'Made with wind an' sea, you are,' he says, brushing his hand down your stomach, resting it against your pubic bone as he looks you. 'Tell me what you want, sweetheart.'

Opening your legs for him, you muster up a small whimper, looking him in the eyes, 'want you to touch me,' you quietly say, 'please, Si', need you to make me feel better,' you beg, feeling as though you're seconds away from collapsing.

A breath escapes you as he pushes your panties to the side, trailing his fingers up and down your folds with a groan.

There's a distinctive wet noise as he does so, spreading your cunt open with two fingers. Looking down between the valley between your breasts, you swallow hard at the sight of him touching you, jolting when his fingers brush against your clit.

It's unlike anything you've ever experienced.

Continuing in a fluid motion, your back arches as pretty moans escape your mouth, writhing beneath him. The heat in your stomach only grows as he does so.

'That's it, sweetheart,' he utters, sliding his fingers downwards, pressing one digit against your hole. 'Gonna be good for me an' take my fingers?' he asks, to which you eagerly nod your head.

'Y- Yes, please,' you respond, your back arching against the bed as he pushes a finger into you.

An odd stinging sensation causes a tear to slip past your eye as you fist the sheets below you, letting out a small sob. He pauses, you catch the orange light from the candle in his eyes as his mouth falls.

Then, you begin to feel him pull away.

'No,' you quickly exclaim, 'no, no, don't pull away, it's just...' you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, 'I've never done this before.'

He looks at you with wild eyes as he expression softens. Leaning forward, he places his lips against your and you cup his face with both of your hands, your mouth falling open as he begins to thrust his finger in and out of you.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he sighs, 'I didn't know, love,' he confesses under his breath, 'I shouldn't have made assumptions—'

'It's not your fault, Si', you didn't know,' you reassures, 'but I don't want you to stop,' you say, toes curling as his finger presses against a spot which almost has you seeing colour.

The air in the room is hot, only growing when you see a crooked smirk on his face as a crude squelch sounds.

You feel another finger against you.

'Gonna make sure your pretty cunt is taken care of,' he says, 'won't want anyone else after you've had me,' he utters, pushing another finger into you.

It burns for a moment, the stretch aching, yet working to contribute to the cord tightening in your stomach.

You're unsure as to what to expect as a delicious heat envelopes yous body, clumsy hands letting go of his face, moving to his shoulders. More tears slip down your cheeks, a loud moan escaping you as both his finger brush against a spot which has you falling apart in his hold.

You expect him to relent, though, he positions his fingers to proceed to hit that spot. By now you're a babbling mess under him, all the while he's grinning at the pretty mess you're becoming, soaking his fingers as you edge closer and closer to the edge.

You're not going to last much longer, he knows such as you clench around his fingers, his cock hardening at the very thought of having that pretty pussy around him.

There's a panic in your eyes as you edge closer to the edge, so he presses a chaste kiss against your lips, 'you're okay, princess,' you gently says, let go, cum for me, cum around my fingers, let me see how pretty you look,' he says, cautious not to make a demand as he continues to work his fingers into you, stretching you out.

Your chest heaves as you screw your eyes shut, your muscles tensing as you find yourself bracing for the coil in your stomach to snap.

It's odd to be scared of something that is making you feel so good, and you relax realising you're in his arms.

Your thighs begin to tremble as you let out small moans, drool trailing down your chin as you press your head back into his pillow, the heat in your stomach dispersing, crashing down into a pleasurable wave which has you almost sobbing.

Your hole clenches around Simon's finger, your entire body turning stiff as you stifle out a crude gasp, your orgasm washing over you. You watches as you completely fall apart, your juices flooding his fingers as you cum. 'That's it, you're okay,' he breathes, 'I got you, you're okay,' he reassures, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm.

Your raging breath steadily quells as he pulls his fingers out of you, sitting back on his thighs. Your hair is sticking your back as sweat soaks into the shirt you're working.

Whimpering, you watch as he presses the two digits he used to fuck you between his mouth, cleaning the mess you made of his hands with his tongue, letting out a short moan as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth, 'as sweet as honey,' he remarks, taking a moment to admire your glistening cunt.

Instinctively, you close your legs, all for him to tut, placing his hands on your knees, pulling them open again.

'Prettiest cunt I've ever seen sweetheart,' he say, 'don't try and keep it from me, yeah? You're not gonna be cumming around anyone else's cock aside from mine; gonna ruing you, shape that pretty hole for my cock and my cock only,' he gruffly speaks.

You hear the shift of fabric.

Pulling his underwear off, he tosses it somewhere into the room, sifting upwards, a crude wet slap filling the room as he slaps his cock against your clit.

You let out a small yelp as the sensation, your cunt still marked with sensitivity from your orgasm. Though, as you feel the blunt head of his leaking cock between your folds, you find the heat returns with a vengeance, leaving your mouth dry as he presses himself against your hole.

'It's gonna hurt for a second,' he warns, grabbing your hip with his hand, 'just keep breathing for me, let that pretty pussy stretch around me- I'll give y' all the time you need, just tell me,' he utters.

His tone is much darker than any you've ever heard, and as he begins to push himself into you, your mouth closes as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip so hard that you're quite sure you're going to draw blood.

A filthy moan escapes your lovers lips as he pushes into, the heat around his cock making it hard to keep a clear mind as the longing to fuck you until you're sobbing possesses him.

It won't take much, he knows that, counting on the fact that he's not even half way in and tears are already pouring down your cheeks.

Gripping your hips, he eases himself in to the hilt, moaning as you clench around his cock.

'Good fuckin' girl,' he curses, his nails digging into your skin as you wince. Never have you felt so full, feeling his cock pulsing in your core as you squirm beneath him.

Without even moving, you're sure he's pressing against that spot that brought you to your release just moments prior, you stomach twisting.

I'm not going to last.

Your legs merely wrap around his waist as he looks to you, and with a trembling mouth, you nod your head, 'y- you can move,' you say with a small nod, hissing as he pulls out, only to thrust back in.

Your skin is hot as sweat drips down your silky flesh, pushing downwards to meet his thrusts as he picks up the pace. The sound of you skin slapping together is vulgar, though neither of you care as you burble out weak 'ahs' under your breath as he drives his cock into you. Simon isn't quiet either, vocal grunts through gritted teeth as his bruising grip on you maintains a steady pace.

'Fuuuckkk,' he moans, grabbing the bottom of his shirt, ripping it open. You offer him as startled look as he drags his blunt nails up your stomach, grabbing your tits, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 'Prettiest fuckin' girl to ever walk the land,' he claims, 'made for me and my cock, and it's all mine, isn't it?'

'A- All yours,' you confirm, unable to keep a sane mind about you as he's fucking you dumb.

All your mind is sticking to is the thickness off his cock as it's hitting all the right spots. You're sure you're drooling from the sensation, your eyes falling back into your head as you babble out nonsense.

'No one else's,' you manage to get out before you're completely at his disposal, the feel of your next orgasm creeping up on you.

'You gonna cum for me again, princess?' Simon asks, greedily sucking in air as he looks at you, feeling your cunt clenching around him. He himself is edging closer to the edge, the tightness of you around his thick cock simply being too much to bear.

'Yes, 'm so close... so fucking close, please, please let me cum,' you dumbly beg, not able to keep the words from flowing past your lips.

'Go on, sweetheart, cum around my cock, make it yours,' he demands, his thrust growing much more sporadic as he chases after his own release.

A moan escapes your lips as you arch you back off of the bed, your entire body spasming as you allow yourself to fall into the pleasure of your orgasm as the cord in your stomach snaps, forcing a gasp out of you.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a brittle sob, tightening around his cock as you cum. The sound of your skin connecting is wet as Simon fucks you through your orgasm, his curses and grunts filling your ears.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, that's right sweetheart,' he moans, 'gonna make you mine, fill you up with my cum, no one else is having you, you're mine,' he grunts out, pressing into your, your cunt against his pubic bone as his hands tremble.

He lets out a moan as he fills you up.

It's a filthy feeling, but you love it terribly, your hole twitching as you feel his pulsing cock empty his load inside of you.

A short breath escapes him, and you moan feeling him push deeper inside of you, thrusting and out of you to ensure you're not missing a drop of it.

Remaining inside of you, he moves to lay beside you, keeping bodies pressed against you, the smell of sex and sweat in the clammy air of the room, but he doesn't even think of pulling out, let alone pulling away. Instead he settles with his cock inside out you, pressing another kiss against you.

Your eyes feel heavy, your entire body sluggish as you press your face into the crook of his neck.

'Good girl,' he utters against your skin.

You lay together for a short while before he eventually pulls his softening cock from out of you, you whimpering from oversensitivity as he does so. Your inner thighs are wet, and as your hole clenches around nothing, you're face grows red as you feel his cum dripping out of you.

He leaves you alone for a short while and you lay, your body blanketed in the moonlight. Beyond the window in his room, you spy the ocean in the distances, seeing the rolling waves, your throat tightening are your eyes move around the room, spying his side of the bed, then lifting back to the water.

You can't possibly stay here forever? Can you?

You have people, you have your sister still to find, getting no closer to having Simon confess to you where she is being kept.

When you uncover it eventually, what are you going to do? Free her and stay here? Will the even want you back when you return with the marks of a human all over you?

Your eyes water when he comes back into the room with a cup of water and a damp cloth in his hands, approaching you.

He sees the furrow of your brow and the discontent on your face, taking a seat beside you, pressing his hand against your face.

'I haven't hurt you have—'

'No, no,' you quietly state, sniffling, 'just...' you look at him, holding his wrist. 'I like you,' you whisper, his eyes growing wide at your confession, 'I- I know it's soon but—'

'I like you too, sweetheart,' he reassures, setting the cup of water down on the nightstand.

You rejoice in the outcome of your diversion, noting it works well as he looks at you with all the adoration the human heart can muster. 'Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? Can't leave you like this,' he utters, to which you nod in appreciation.

The night is sleepless for the most part as you're in his arms. It's difficult to confess to yourself, but you're aware of the lies you have told and of the possible consequences to come from it.

Even if he isn't fearful of what you are, there's still the fact that the betrayal will be too great as, essentially, everything you have together is built on a lie, and you're only encouraging it through playing the role of human.

A part of you wishes to wake him from his current sleeping state and tell him, yet, you cower in the thought of conflict destroying the night the pair of you have shared.

So, you tell yourself that you'll tell him tomorrow instead before falling into the heat of his body, closing your eyes.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

In the morning you wake with a dull ache between your thighs, looking to the side of your bed.

Simon isn't there and you sit up quickly, eyes scanning around the room, a panicked breath squeezing out of your lung as you search for him.

Has he left for work already?

You feel an odd sense of betrayal well in your breast as you shuffle from under the sheets, stopping in your tracks when you hear the creak of the staircase leading into his room. His head appears first and you quickly fall back onto the bed, eying him.

'I thought you left for work,' you confess as he climbs the final step. He shakes his head, looking out of the window to the early morning sun. It covers his frame in a delicious light and you take a moment to admire him. How his white shirt settles against his chest, the mask on his face right back where it usually it.

It's a shame though; you want to see his blond hair in the light of the sun.

'I'm not that cruel, sweetheart,' he reassures, 'want you to come with me today; I'm sitting in the Station by myself while the other three do whatever, want some company with me,' he says, we'll stop by the library and bakery before we go there, I'll get you that pastry you like,' he offers, fixing the buckle of his belt, 'what do you think?'

Propping your head up with your hand, you look as hm with rosy cheeks and a bright grin on your face. 'Make me a cup of tea when we're in the station too?' you ask.

'If I must,' he says, laughing, moving towards one of the drawers in his bedroom, pulling it open.

Grabbing a dress and panties, walking up to you. Shifting in the bed, you push the sheets back, standing up, taking the panties from his hands.

Stepping into them, you look up to see him holding your dress, the skirt bunched up. 'Hold your arms up,' he instructs, to which you giggle at, but comply, holding your arms up.

Placing the fabric of the dress over your head, you slip your arms inside of the sleeves, as he kneels down in front of you, pushing his mask up slightly so he can press kisses onto your stomach as he lowers the skirt of the dress further and further down.

More laughter spills past you as you watch him with do so. The skirt reaches your ankles and he stands up, grasping your waist. 'Happy I got this dress for you,' he comments.

You quirk an eyebrow.

'I thought you said it was plain.'

'Nothing's plain when you're wearing it, sweetheart,' he responds, pressing a kiss onto your lips. You roll your eyes at his sappiness despite melting into his hold.

'You're an idiot,' you say.

'And you're slow,' he retorts, letting go of your waist, 'finish up getting ready and meet me downstairs, don't take too long; don't wanna be stuck in a queue at the bakery.'

'You're the reason—'

'Don't wanna hear it, princess,' he calls as he walks down the the stairs, leaving you alone in his bedroom, crossing your arms over yourself as you watch him disappear.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He cannot take his eyes off of you as you sit in the station, stray crumbs of the pastry around your mouth as you babble on about one of the books you found in the library.

It never occurred to him until now that it's very much possible to be a love drunk fool, and he feels himself grinning under his mask as you speak with such passion, it's making him lightheaded. He has little understanding of what you're talking about, but that doesn't matter.

He sits and listens to you, only stopping you when he reaches out his hand, brushing away the clumsy flakes of pastry from around your mouth. You stare at him, eyes panning down to your skirt as you blush at the sight of golden flecks on the white fabric.

Brushing your hands over your covered thighs, you brush them away, looking back at him. Opening your mouth, you go to speak, all for your moment to come crashing down as Kyle barges into the Station.

Taking one look at the pair of you, he lets out a comically loud wretch, 'save it for the bedroom, please,' he breathes, closing the door behind him.

'What are you doin' back?' Simon asks, checking your face for any more crumbs, letting a small grunt when he's satisfied there are none, pulling his hand away from you. 'Thought you were going to be out all day.'

'I've been looking for Rhys,' he says, 'he's supposed to be keeping an eye on her and I haven't seen her, when I went to the cabin the door was locked, all the curtains were drawn too,' he explains, rubbing his head.

Your ears perk up with the mention of a cabin, glancing at Simon before back at Gaz.

She's in a cabin somewhere nearby and she's still alive.

Your heart settles with the thought.

'He couldn't have gone far,' Simon says, 'might've slept in or something- if something was wrong, he wouldn't disappear on us.'

'You're right,' Kyle says, closing the door behind him, 'he's a good kid, shouldn't be thinking badly of him in the first place, just difficult not to worry when he's usually there at the crack of dawn, you know?'

'Are people still demanding a trial?' you ask.

'Yeah,' Kyle responds, approaching the fireplace to the right of the bed you're sitting on, pulling the lid off of the kettle. Fortunately, Simon replenished it after making you both a mug of tea. 'We're trying to push it back; she's a nice girl from what I can tell, doesn't speak much though- to me at least,' he explains.

'Why don't you just let her go?'

'Letters from the Lords telling us we can't act until he's back home,' he says, 'unfortunately, we work for him. If it was up to me, she'd be back in the water; I think everything people are saying about her is nothing more than fairytales.'

You smile at his words; he's right, in terms of her, they are all fairytales.

If he's looking for the sirens from fairytales, he's already eyeing her as he talks to you.

'Do you want another cup of tea?' Kyle asks, looking at the pair of you. Simon shakes his head but you nod, though, before you can reach for your mug, it's taken from out of your reach as Simon holds it out for Kyle.

You give him a short look which he returns after handing your cup to to Kyle who busies himself with minding his business.

'You my servant now?' you ask.

'Can be if you want me to be,' he answers.

You roll your eyes, leaning your back against the wall, dusting the remnants of your breakfast off of your hands.

'You're sweet talk is making me sick,' Kyle calls, approaching you, carefully handing you your mug of tea, 'need some lessons in it, Simon,' he adds.

'Fuck off,' barks the man.

'I've got nothing to do so you're not getting rid of me for a while,' he says, 'I'm gonna stay here for a while before heading back up to the cabin, haven't had a moment to relax this morning,' he scoffs, 'could do with a moment of rest.'

Sitting forward, you move your legs off of the bed, allowing Kyle to take a seat beside you, sipping from your mug, 'there's always something to be doing,' he begins to complain, 'never a fuckin' quiet moment in this—'

The door to the station bursts open, slamming against the wall opposite.

'She's dead!'

The cup in your hand drops as you jolt from the sudden noise, the hot liquid merely missing your thighs as you shift out of the way, hearing the tea cup shattering as it meet with the stone floor.

You curse under your breath, looking at the mess you have made as you go to drop to the ground to clean it up, all for Kyle to shake it head while Simon stands up to address the man at the door.

'It's fine love,' reassures the man sweetly, 'you'll end up cuttin' your fingers, I'll clean it up,' he says, looking down at the shattered tea cup on the ground.

Frankly, you appreciate his kindness as you raise to your feet, looking around Simon's bulky frame to the man who scared you.

He's shaking as he speaks looking at Simon, his eyes blown wide, reflective of the surface of the moon as he tugs at his fingers while attempting to express the horrors of which he has witnessed.

'I left for the night, an' when I returned she was dead,' he says, 'bloody and beaten, whoever it was took all her scales, left them around the room like it's some sort of fuckin' confetti.'

Scales.

You're sure you hear Kyle yell, but you're unsure what he actually says.

There's anger in the young man's eyes, genuine emotion as he details every single gruesome detail of the scene.

Serelia.

The siren.

'W- Where?' you manage to get out, not caring if Simon is about to say something in response. 'Where is she?' you roughly demand.

The young man standing in front of you looks at you with wide eyes as you move in front of Simon.

Your lover doesn't say anything.

'Tell me!' you demand, grabbing his shirt.

'T- The cabin just beyond the Lords house,' he stutters.

Without much thought, you're rushing out of the station without any hesitation, rushing through the streets as your heart rages in your chest.

Your mind is racing with his confession, shoving past and barging shoulders with everyone as you push through the busy town square, staggering up the steps towards the direction of the Lords house.

You're aware of the man behind you; Simon never really did let you out of his sights, after all.

Everything seems so much smaller in your eyes as you stumble further and further up, tears flowing freely down your cheeks.

Perhaps it's some form of sick joke- she's okay, she's just playing dead; she's a smart girl, even having tricked you a few times.

She's okay- she's got to be okay.

You're in a fit of hysterics as you pull the door open to the small, reserved cabin.

There are footsteps behind you, a distant call for your name, only, when you pull the door open, you seek the sister you had lost that night on the shore. Still bleeding as she was when she had been taken despite her pleads for freedom, only, she isn't moving.

She lays on the wooden ground of the room, her hand open in your direction, as stray tear slipping down her face as her open, bruised eyes stare into nothingness.

You stand at the door, your bottom lip trembling as you scream out, 'SERELIA.'

Rushing up to her side, you collapse onto your knees, trembling hands hovering over her swollen body, blood seeping into your white frock as you simply sit and stare in horror.

Placing your hand against her cheek, you flinch at the icy feeling of her skin, trailing the tips of your fingers over her soft flesh. Stray scales sit on the ground from around you, plucked like petals from a daisy.

Her body is destroyed, pretty face so swollen, you hardly know who you're looking at.

Nausea hits you, though you fight against the urge to vomit up your breakfast, lunging forward, slipping your hand beneath the bleeding body of your sister, resting your forehead against her shoulder as you pull her close, her body falling over your lap as you sob, brushing your hair through her dirty ginger locks as your body shakes against her still one.

This all feels like a bad dream that you wish to wake from, only, you cannot.

'I- I'm sorry, my urchin,' you manage to get out between spouts of hyperventilation and nausea, your nails digging into her flesh as your arm settles in her blood.

'My beauty, they have destroyed you,' you mumble under your breath, unmoved by the stench in room as your chest swells.

Pulling your head off of the corpses shoulder, you press your hand firmly against her rotten cheek, observing the countless amount of cuts.

You feel the room spinning as you observe the true brutality of mankind, how they are so careless towards the rest of natures creations and you feel like a fool.

A fury burns within you, your tongue ceasing as two hands are placed on your shoulders, attempting to move you away from Serelia. Looking up over your shoulders, you spy the bewildered eyes of your lover.

'Let go of me, Simon,' you demand, turning your head back to the woman on the ground.

His hands stay firmly on your shoulders.

You wish for him to relent, but that's not in his nature. No, he wishes to keep you from all danger, and with the mess you have made of yourself and the crime scene, somewhere deep inside, you understand that you cannot have the very thing you desire.

You're pulled to your feet, crying as you kick and scream in his arms, the bloody skirt of your dress sticking to your legs as you fight against him.

'Let me go!' you cry, turning in his hold, bringing your hands to his chest, weakly hitting him as though it is he who caused the bloody slaughter. 'Let me go,' you hiccup as you're pulled out the door, away from the sight that is sure to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Pushing your hands against his chest, you shove him with all you might, though he does not move.

Placing you against a tree, he gently guides you to the ground as your legs give, kneeling on the ground before you as you chase after your breath, your legs laid out in front of you, your hands resting flat against your thighs.

Looking up towards the sky, you spy the moon staring down upon you despite the morning sky, proceeding to cry as you recall the lights on the shore the night Serelia was taken.

Your throat burns with the desire to scream and scream until you have torn the very vocal cords nature gifted to you, seeing no use in them as you come to realise that you will never call her name and get a response ever again.

'You were never on our side,' you sniffle harshly, hot tears flowing free as Simon simply stares at you. 'I see their torches in the light of your stars. You make us the villains, fool us into doing your dirty work, and then leave us stranded when you want no more to do with us,' you seethe, turning your head to the side as you continue to sob.

Simon's hand presses against your flushed face, pushing your head up from off of your shoulder, 'love, you need to calm down,' he utters gently. 'You're gonna make yourself sick if you keep on like this,' he warns.

He means well, you love him enough to acknowledge that in the midst of your fury.

Yet, your punishment leaves you weak and weary, missing the water you grew up in, missing life prior to that night.

'I already am sick,' you retort in a broken tone, 'infected with the parasite that makes me you, that separates me from her,' you cry, 'no longer a siren, only human.'

You don't care what happens, and, if you do, your emotions keep you from logic.

'W- What?' the man beside you chokes out.

You don't miss the way his hold on your face tightens, yet, you do not flinch, permitting his harsh hold as you look him in the eyes, swallowing harshly.

'I'm not a human,' you whisper, 'I don't know what I am anymore... I never had a sister, I was never in a wreckage, I was looking for her, my Urchin,' you admit, turning your head in the direction of the cabin. 'And now she's gone.'

Your sobs fill the void of silence, only, nothing fills the void of warmth against your face as he pulls his hand away from your face. Looking at him, your bottom lip wobbles.

Every lesson your mother has ever taught you is urging you to hate him, telling you that it is his fault that there she's lying there alone in a puddle of her own blood, unrecognisable.

However, no matter how much you wish to lunge forward and claw his eyes from out of his head, you find heart and mind conflict easily.

'Please say something,' you beg, caving to the gaping hole in your chest, longing for the return of his touch for, what is left after him? An outcast? Nowhere to return, even the ocean doesn't want you, and your bleak reality begins to settle in as his eyes do not change. 'Please, please talk to me, I- I've already lost her—'

He's unsure how to tread, you see the weariness in his eyes. 'What part of you is real?' he asks, 'or are you just a liar?'

'My love for you is real,' you blurt out, 'I cherish you, all of you for caring for me and for taking care of me when I needed it the most,' you continue, 'but I couldn't tell you, Si'- I- I've been trying to think of a way to tell you the truth and I was gonna do it today- I swear to you.'

'Why?' he lowly asks, 'are you afraid of me?'

'Are you afraid of me?' you question, looking him in the eyes as a stray tear falls past your eye.

He pauses.

'Your people murdered one of my own, Si',' you choke out, a flurry of emotion blowing over you as your face and skin prickle with an insatiable heat. 'We act accordingly, you treat us violently, we react with violence, but she...' your words trail, 'she did nothing to anyone, Simon. Had a voice as sweet as honey, charming, loving to the creatures of the sea, and look at what happened.'

'What's stoppin' you from hurting me?'

His voice and tone are raw as you look at him.

Truthfully, in the midst of your misery, you're unable to see the reason which keeps your fury at bay, though, when you look into his eyes, you understand for a moment long enough to form a response.

'You tried to keep her safe,' you whisper, 'keeping her from everyone, keeping her out of the way. They got to her, you didn't.'

And I can't let myself get to you for something you haven't done.

He exhales, looking towards you with bleary eyes.

Always, the desire to push him away is going to nestle within after the events of today, but nothing stops you from lunging into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck with as you sob.

His large hand presses against your head as he pulls you close, his hold on you almost crushing as you cry into the nape of his neck. If he is hushing you, you can't hear him.

You're in his arms and he's got you.

His hold feels the same as the one you have became accustomed with during your time on land, nothing has changed.

Feeling him tug at his mask, you settle when you feel his lips press against your forehead, and with a small voice he utters, 'I love you,' he says, 'human, siren, sea monster, sea urchin, I don't fuckin' care,' he states firmly, placing another kiss on your forehead.

'I love you too,' you tightly say, feeling the urge to smile at his words, but you don't, simply remaining in his arms.

'I'm sorry, love,' he utters. 'She didn't deserve any of this, neither did you.'

With your face buried into his neck, you nod your head.

'I know.'

You lay in his arms for what seems like an eternity, holding his bloody shirt as he rubs your back.

There's nothing that can be said, you know that.

Both of you do.

A man of few words can hardly be expected to become a flowing fountain of knowledge in the span of an hour.

Anyone else would curse him for not trying to make you feel better, maybe even say he doesn't care about you. But his rough touch turns gentle with you. His boisterous manner is reserved to calmness.

Oddly enough, it's in the most violent man that you find your faith in humanity is kept from drifting off of the cliff, toppling over into the ocean.

Eventually, you feel him shift beside you and you're moved as though your a doll in a child's arms. Looking down at you, he brushes his hand against your face, wiping away the tears that have flooded your face. You place your hands over his much larger ones, looking him in the eyes as you sniffle.

'We can't leave her there like this,' he utters, 'they'll wanna burn her body, 'not gonna let that happen.'

You mouth grows dry.

'We'll bury her up here, there's a clearing near the cliff, overlooking the water so she's not too far from home.'

No words leave your mouth so you simply nod your head in agreement as the pair of you raise from the floor.

Her helps you up and keeps you steady, not daring to let go of you, seemingly fearful that, if you fell, you would shatter and leave him forever.

He does all the work, leaving you to sit and watch as he carefully raps the girl in a sheet, lifting her into his arms with ease.

You standby and watch idly, holding a shovel in one hand and a lantern in the other, unable to look the dismal sight in the eye.

As, you step outside of the cabin, keeping your head bowed as you follow after him, heading towards the burial sight he mentioned.

It's hidden, private, and you stand near the edge of the cliff, looking down into the darkened abyss of water below you as you hear the occasional grunt from behind you as Simon busies himself with digging the gave.

At this moment you're resentful, wishing for some form of blow to the head to send you over the cliff, rejoicing in the short fall before you're able to escape from the consequences of your failure.

Only, you cannot will yourself to go over the cliff on your own accord, knowing if you did, Simon would most likely blame himself- if not follow right after you.

Living in the idea is enough to keep the action at bay, the resounding guilt and regret you imagine you would feel after taking the leap filling you with dread.

So, you turn yourself around and sit next to the woman wrapped in white while Simon makes a grave for her to finally rest her weary head.

It's difficult to say goodbye.

It was difficult when you said goodbye to your mother, a bitter pill to swallow when old age claimed the crazed woman on the seas, though, the guilt stabbing into your heart like a dagger proves to make this send off much worse.

Never did you dream of doing something so horrible, yet, here you are, unable to escape reality.

It's the dead of night by the time the grave is ready, the lantern in your hand flickers as Simon holds the body of Serelia in his arms, lowering her into the grave he constructed using a shovel.

The sheet she's wrapped in is stain red, marked with her blood, and while your chest grows heavy at the sight you find solace hiding in the shadows away from the moonlight.

Kneeling to the ground beside him, you tear the edge of your skirt, placing it onto her body with a shaky sigh.

He looks at you.

'When someone passes, we pull one of own scales and lay it with them to rest so they always have a piece of us with them,' you explain, 'I can't do that for her, but I'm not going to leave her with nothing,' you state.

Grabbing the edge of his shirt, you watch with a sunken smile as he rips a piece of his shirt of, laying it beside the piece of your dress you laid upon her.

'It's an apology,' mumbles the man, 'couldn't be there to keep her from harms way in this life, but she'll have me in the next. She'll have the both of us, yeah?'

'Forever and always.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You return to his home covered in blood.

He helps you wash, rubbing a sponge around your back as you lean forward, chin resting against your knees with void eyes. You say nothing to him, only listening to his gentle requests.

While doing so, he feels a heat growing his stomach. It had been set alight from the very second he heard you screaming and crying, and the longer he focuses, the more he finds his blood boils. Someone in the village knew where she was and they killed her- perhaps even multiple people.

A poor young girl was murdered, and in the process they murdered your spirit.

And now he is scared as he looks at you.

There's nothing to tie you to the land anymore, he understands that as he wraps you in a towel, carrying you up the steps to his bedroom in a woeful silence.

There's nothing to tie you to him and he wishes to paint the town red for the crime committed against you, swearing to himself that he will find the perpetrator.

The next time he's cleaning blood from under his fingernails will be the time he has avenged you.

Until then, however, he's committed to being beside you until you no longer want him there as he looks onto you after helping you get ready for bed, lying on his back beside you.

Nothing is left in you, your soul devoid of anything as your mind wanders to her body wrapped in that white sheet, and as you look to the dress discarded on the floor, you find you're not too far off her fate.

Laying your head upon his head, you listen to his heartbeat to make sure he's alive, fearful that he will leave you before you get the opportunity to leave him first.

'I love you,' you croak.

'I love you too, sweetheart.'

After a while he his breathing calms, soothing and melting as a wave on the beach did.

Your mind has been made up since he placed his shirt beside yours, and as you watched him cover her with dirt, you stood with crossed arms and contemplated for a while. The crashing of the waves over the cliff edge called for you as you stood there.

You cannot stay here.

For the good of yourself and the good of him.

Too much is at risk now, and too much has been lost.

Too many thoughts fill your head, bad thoughts. Bringing him to the water all to sing a song to pull him into it.

You'll watch as he fights for air, trying to break the surface of the water once more, but you will not care, simply watching him fight and fight until all life leaves him and his soul has left you.

Foolish mortal men.

You hear your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you look at his sleeping eyes, then to the blood beneath your nails.

Sinking into the watery depths of a sirens den.

Crawling from beside him, you offer him one final look at you lean over the sleeping man, pressing a kiss onto his temple, watching as his hand curls around the pillow on your side of the bed.

Misery strikes you as you look at the empty spot, something within you urging to you to crawl back into bed beside him, only, you're reminded of the celebrations litter through the town, the festering buzzing of the flies in the cabin, and the swollen face of Serelia.

How is one to move past such when they lack the very emotion of remorse?

And how are you supposed to keep your emotions at bay when you feel an unquenchable urge to bring the village into the water?

Both are impossible to solve, and somethings are better off left broken, for, if you act on your anger, you betray the man you love with all your being.

But, if you act on love, you betray the women in the sea who are most likely worried sick with your disappearance. So, you take hold of the first dress he bought you, pulling it over your head, eyes teary as you look at him sleeping.

You're making the right choice in leaving, you say that to yourself when you place another chaste kiss against his cheek, allowing the thought to follow you as you push the door of his house open, stepping onto the pavement.

It follows you down the twists and turns of the street, leading you from place you have both loved and lost back to the ocean where you have only ever know strength and family.

The land is cruel, harsher than the sea.

Even during a violent storm you find you prefer the sea for the land houses people capable of despicable things, maintaining the ability of hurting you, not only on the outside, but also on the inside. You long for normality, for a sense of belonging again, and while you know you will always have a place in his bed and arms, you have a duty to fill elsewhere, an anger to keep at bay, people to keep safe.

You have to go, and you hope he understands.

A man of few words yet the only man who could ever hold your heart and not shatter it, and as you're walking on the sand, stumbling towards the water, you allow yourself to cry an ugly and loud cry as you fist at the fabric of the dress he gifted you, pulling the skirt to your mouth, pressing your lips against the fabric. Your legs carry as you remain with the skirt bundled in your arms, inhaling the scent of the place you have grown to know as home.

But it's never going to be home again.

The water greets your feet as you allow your arms to drop to your side, walking into the sea.

The waves crash down, soaking the bottom of the pink fabric and you continue to sob as you edge further and further into the water, cupping your face in your hands as you stiffly wade through the waves.

Wiping under your eyes with your fingers, you raise your head in the direction of the sky, seeing the moon sitting above the sea. You keep your eyes trained on the red moon, unmoved by the winking stars in the night sky as you turn your back to her.

Observing the land one last time, you fall backwards into the water, whispering an ode to Serelia under your breath as the ocean swallows you whole.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

TAGS: (If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!) @forever-twenty-two-years-old

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norrisreads · 2 years ago

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sweetest pie part one #LN4

PAIRING: lando norris x wolff reader! daniel ricciardo x wolff reader! platonic only

SUMMARY: y/n wolff, the eldest daughter of toto wolff who has been widely known by the formula one fanbase, has finally been spotted at the races but what happens when a certain mclaren driver took a liking towards just by one look?

WARNING: just fluff, this is a part one, it’ll be a series 💋 bad german translation 🙏🏻🙏🏻

FACECLAIM : lalalalisa_m on ig

you didn’t bother waking up early to proceed to the paddock with your dad, susie and jack so you decided to sleep in and head to the paddock just slightly later.

your room floor was still covered with papers everywhere from the late night studying you had to do. Monaco wasn’t your home, you had just decided to visit your dad because you were on your holidays.

You were sent to Singapore to continue your studies as they had the choices of education you were interested in. The only time you’re spending time with your family is when you’re free from school, you’re back in Monaco or when the season starts, during the race in the Singapore Grand Prix.

Usually, your dad would have to book a ride for you whenever you’re on your way to the race by yourself, but ever-since you had your motorcycle license, you’ve been going everywhere with your motorbike instead of the cars your dad owns.

Unlike formula one, you really had no interest in cars unless you’re listening to your dad rambles about his cars. Instead, you had a huge interest in motorbikes.

Even-though, susie was your stepmom, you would regularly FaceTime her and keep tabs on her, she would always post pictures of you on her Instagram page.

While your little brother and sister preferred to keep their live private, you didn’t really care about yours. Sure, you had friends who tried to use your privilege but you were never that stupid.

Susie, had planted this sweet image of you on her Instagram page, but you’re honestly much different in real life, with honest and sarcastic remarks and since you’re quite an introvert, that kinda speaks a lot about how people approach you.

Your dad has decided to purchase your dream motorbike as a gift for your 22th birthday, even-though you had one back in Singapore as your usual daily transportation, you’re glad your dad bought you another motorbike because you really did not want to be spotted everywhere with your dad.

your phone dings and noticed it was a text coming from danny.

you are close with some of the current drivers, closer to daniel ricciardo and the mercedes drivers though.

rics: not coming to the race? heidi’s here! Toto told us you’re homed!

you: in an hour or two, slept late so i needed to sleep in

rics: need a ride?

you: don’t need for that, i’m a big girl with my own transportation

rics: and what’s that?

rics: no way, don’t tell me

you: have a look later

you didn’t really care on what you shall be wearing as it was only the first day of the weekend.

y/nwolff just posted on instagram

liked by georgerussell63 lewishamilton and others

y/nwolff my baby has never looked better, still love my other ride just this has been the dream, danke papa & of course susiewolff 🤍 #interceptor650

georgerussell63 woah woah woah let me have a ride

y/nwolff i don’t trust you

susiewolff anything for you 🤍

liked by y/nwolff

danielricciardo bad bitch y/n wolff coming through

y/nwolff has always been 👊🏻

yourbestff missing you, are you even missing me and your baby!!!!!

y/nwolff i’m missing my baby more than you 🤭

yourbestff im scratching this stupid cafe racer

y/nwolff don’t you dare, no more rides for you then 🤭

yourbestff i apologise

you were minutes away from reaching, you had to notify your dad because the paddock passes weren’t handed to you and without it, you aren’t allowed to enter.

you hated situations which led to this, because you’re such a huge introvert that small conversations with unknown people just scares you.

once you’ve reached, you had to search for a parking. Other than being toto wolff daughter, you didn’t really like the attention everyone has on you, you parked your bike and turned it off.

susie had given you one of her own helmets and you’re forever thankful, because even if she is your step mom, you’ve always look up to her as an inspiration.

“ toto asked me to pass you these, he’s in a meeting. I’m amazed at this”

the voice scared the shit out of you and it happened to be the one and only Daniel Ricciardo

“what the hell, no hellos or hi? that literally scared the shit out of me” you smacked his shoulder

as much older he was than you, the close friendship both of you had speaks otherwise

“sorry i was excited for this, let me have a ride” daniel laughed and pointed to your interceptor 650

“go ahead, bring it back in one piece. It’s just my second week with this big girl, had to bring it to custom made the colour. Dad got it in a ugly colour” you passed daniel your keys and stood off the parkway

“anyways this is lando, toto happened to pass me the passes when lando and i was going to buy some drinks”

you’ve never realised lando’s presence until daniel introduced him. Of course, lando wasn’t really an unknown figure to you, you’ve seen him in the grid but just hasn’t had to chance to have a full on conversation with him

“y/n wolff right? love the ride”

you smiled at him to acknowledge the compliment on your motorbike but there wasn’t really much for the both of you to talk about.

while waiting for daniel to come back with your motorcycle, lando tried to strike a conversation with you.

“not a fan of cars?”

you shook your head, “ was always amazed with bikes more, being surrounded in formula one and cars, it didn’t really fazed me. What about you, do you like them?”

“ they’re amazing though i think i’m much better in a car”

“you can have a try with it, if you’re ever interested”

“maybe not now, i don’t think you are really trusting me with your baby” the comment made both of you laughed

soon enough, daniel came back with your motorcycle and passed you the keys and passes

You felt a vibration through your pocket and sure enough, it was your dad questioning whether you’ve arrived

papa🤍 bist du angekommen?

you i’m with daniel and lando, we’re gg in papa. are you done?

papa🤍 lando? that’s new, ich werde auf dich warten

you okay see you

“ that’s toto?” lando was walking with your pace and asked you if toto was the one who was texting you

“yeah, it’s the first time I’m arriving here alone. Usually i’m with him or susie, but school has been tough lately and even though it’s the holidays, there isn’t much difference just the view”

“you don’t live here?”

“nah she moved to Singapore few years back, that’s why toto is kinda scared to leave her alone” daniel told lando

“yeah, ever-since I’ve moved he’s cautious of everything. It’s not like i’m back once a year, this is probably my third time of the year i’m here”

“i live here too, i don’t see you around though”

well that’s new information for you because to be fair you didn’t know lando lived here

“i’m just spending my time home, come by if you ever need company”

this shook Daniel Ricciardo because it almost took him 2 months for the both of you to have a full on conversation but for lando it only took him a day

“ i need to go guys. Toto is probably freaking out right now that i’m not in the garage” you waved them goodbye and ran to the Mercedes building

meanwhile, lando and daniel was having a conversation

“you’ve taken a liking, haven’t you?” daniel nudged lando’s shoulder

“she’s interesting. when she came with her bike, i was expecting the girl susie was always posting about but this is different” lando was amazingly amused with the aura you had

“it took me quite a while for me to be friends with her, i’m amazed you guys managed to be friends within a day”

this confused lando because you seem like a genuinely nice person

“way back then, she was really snarky. it took me, george and lewis a few tries to talk to her. i don’t really know if she was going through a phase where she was just snarky, but she seems different now.

Though, i really thought her liking towards motorcycles would have changed considering how toto was really against of her riding a motorcycle”

landonorris started following y/nwolff

y/nwolff followed landonorris back

y/nwolff just posted an instagram story

landonorris replied to your story

pretty

a/n: well that’s it for part one, this is gonna be a series! from how they met to slowly transition in to their love life! lmk if there’s anything i should add in the future parts! thank you 4 reading 💋

#f1 x reader #f1 fics #f1 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you #Spotify

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doudouneverte · 11 months ago

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Grumpy cloud

a/n: should I be sleeping or revising for my exam the next week? Yes but I think you deserved that before

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Ewa Pajor x Léon!reader; Wolfsburg Frauen x reader

Summary: Ewa is jealous [in the same universe as 'Ray of sunshine']

Type: Fluff

Warning: use of Google translate for Spanish and Polish like usual so let me know if there's some mistakes

word count: 1653

-----------

January. The start of a new year, and with that, a little camp in Portugal before the next part of the season. Today's training was really good, and now you could just rest until your friendly game against Hoffenheim the next day.

The team was split into some small groups but was rather close to each other.

"She's staring again." Sveindis commented and gained the attention of the few girls around her. The little group composed of Jule, Obi, and Lynn looked at where the Icelandic players pointed out Ewa, who seemed to be in an intense eye contest against the back of your head.

"She's been doing it a lot since the start of the season." Jule said.

"Do you think Y/n noticed that?" The Dutch defender asked.

"I don't know, but I find it funny." Lena said with a smile, which confused the girls around her.

"Why?" Sveindis asked.

"It's been a while since I saw her jealous like that." The defensive midfielder explained.

A few metres away from them, there was another group composed of Ewa, Alexandra, Dominique, Svenja, Kathrin, and Feli. They were chatting about something until they noticed that the Polish striker was focused on something else.

"You're staring. Again." Dom said to Ewa, a little amused by this.

"I know." Your wife replied but didn't lose her focus.

"Hey, she will not disappear when you look away; don't worry. I don't think she could take away your girl."

"I'm not worrying about anything." The comment was cold when she saw you being a little more touchy than usual.

"Okay, no. We don't start this. Not today." Alex said, standing up and placing herself in front of your wife. Ewa grumbled and wanted to protest, but was cut off. "You know what? I think we need a little tour of the city. What do you think, girls?"

"I think that is a great idea. And maybe we will not see Ewa ripped off the head of someone today." Feli agreed instantly.

Ewa really wanted to protest, but she was forced on her feet by Alex and Dom and quickly moved by them to the nearest group.

"Girls, do you want to join us for a little tour?" The tall captain asked the younger players, who exchanged some glances before accepting the offer.

When the girls were out of view, you received a text from your best friend.

Obi: taking your wife away before someone gets killed

You laughed at this and just asked her to let you know where they were going in case you wanted to join them.

"She was definitely staring." Merle said when you finally put your phone back in your pocket.

"I know, but she also knows that she doesn't have to worry about anything." You replied.

"Where's everyone?" Fenna asked when she noticed that a lot of players had already left.

"They decided to visit the city and maybe stop to eat something. We will join them later." Merle explained to the young striker.

"Vale, now tell us how you scored the goal against Arsenal last season. It was almost impossible to score from this angle." Nuria spoke this time.

You liked these two, first because they always spent all their time stuck around you, like you did with your big sister when you were younger, and also because, with Nuria now on the team, you were not the only Spanish player anymore. And you loved your teammates, but being able to speak in your native language with someone else was something special.

Something special that didn't get unnoticed by your wife. At first, she was happy to see you being a sort of big sister for the young Spanish player when she signed for Wolfsburg; she even found it cute. But with the months passing and the two girls getting more attached to you, it started to slightly make her jealous of not being your principal interest.

After a good walk, the girls decided to stop at a cafe and have a little pause. After the waiter took their commands, the whole table turned their attention to your wife, who had been pouting for a few minutes now.

"Can you stop acting like a child for a minute, please?" Feli said, making your wife pout even more.

"Come on, we all know that she will never think about anyone else except you." Lena tried to reassure her, but it seems that nothing worked, so the girls just gave up for the moment. A few minutes later, the food was served, and that's when you decided to show up with the girls.

Seeing that, Svenja decided to move some girls to give you a free seat next to the pouty player. A seat that gets quickly taken because, even in her current state, you missed your favourite girl.

Sensing that Ewa was not in a mood to be teased, you just distracted yourself by talking with the girls while you intertwined your little finger together. The little thing seemed to enlighten her mood a little, but not as much to make her openly happy about it.

After that, you all walked back to the hotel, where you sneaked out of the team with the striker to your room. It was one of the advantages to be a married couple, always sharing a room at every camp or game away.

In the room, you dragged her on the bed despite her protest and made her lay next to you. You stayed like this for a moment without saying anything, just staring at each other and sometimes smiling like idiots.

"So, will you tell me what's that about?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know what you mean." She replied with a shy smile.

"Oh, so you're telling me you were not jealous?"

"Me, jealous? Come on, I have never been jealous."

The lie almost made you laugh, but you needed to keep your composure. "So you'll not be angry if I invite Merle, Nuria, and Fenna to watch a movie with us tonight?"

The mention of the names made her instantly lose her facade, and the look she was giving you meant a lot. "I think you forgot that this room is for Léon-Pajor only."

At this point, you finally laughed and showered her face with a lot of kisses.

"Seriously, kochanie (honey), I don't know why you need to spend all your time with them." Ewa said after you stopped.

"I don't spend all my time with them." You protested. "It's just that I just want to make sure they're good with their move and don't feel homesick."

"Fenna lived only a few hours of flight from Wolfsburg, and Nuria goes back to Barcelona as much as she can."

"Amor (Love), are you really being jealous of two kids right now?" You asked with a very surprised face. "I thought you were jealous of Merle, not of the kids."

"Why would I be jealous of Merle?"

"And why are you jealous of some kids?" Ewa just groaned and started to leave the room, but you stopped her before. "Hey, I'm sorry. Okay, I didn't know. Well, now that I'm aware of it, it seems more funny than I thought, but anyway."

"Can you stop making fun of me?"

"Sí, but can you just let me explain it?" When she didn't make any move to leave you again, you put her back on the bed and sat her on your lap. "Señora Ewa Léon-Pajor, amor de mi vida, no hay mujer en este mundo de la que estaría más orgullosa y feliz de llamar mía que tú. Puedes descansar en paz. Te amé, te amo, y todavía lo haré en el futuro. (Mrs. Ewa Léon-Pajor, love of my life, there's no woman in this world that I would be more proud of and happy to call you mine than you. You can rest peacefully. I loved you, I love you, and I will still do so in the future.)"

From your tone and your expression, Ewa knew you said something important but couldn't understand everything.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand everything." She admitted shyly making you laugh a little.

"I said that you don't have to worry about anything because I love you, and I will still do it in the future." You briefly explained.

You saw her eyes start to get filled with tears, but her expression reflected everything but sadness.

"Ja też cię kocham, pani Léon-Pajor (I love you too, Mrs. Léon-Pajor)"

"Did I ever tell you that I love when you speak Polish?" You asked with a mischievous smile.

"Yeah, and you also told me that you love when I speak Spanish or German." She reminded you.

"You know what? I think I just love you." You commented, making her smile.

"And I love you too," she replied before finally giving you a proper kiss. You stayed in your room for a few more hours until it was time for dinner.

You joined the team with Ewa by your side and her arm around your waist, which earned a shocking look for your teammates and a thumbs up from Lena and Dom to the striker.

After you got your plate, you made your way to where Merle was seated, but you were stopped by your wife, who gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before going to sit with her previous group.

"I don't know what we did to deserve to see Ewa showing PDA in front of us, but I think we have to thank her for this cute moment." Alex commented loudly and earned a lot of applause from your teammates.

You watched your wife, who was trying to hide herself, until she finally met your eyes. You just smiled and blew her a kiss, which made her blush even more and made everyone laugh.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #ewa pajor #ewa pajor x reader #vfl wolfsburg women x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen #vfl wolfsburg women

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ogata77 · 6 months ago

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First spoiler chapter 58

The first spoilers for chapter 58 are here and I want to leave you my quick thoughts. I'll start with the cover.

The last image is the new inside cover of chapter 58 and obviously I couldn't help but relate it to these other images. Yoneda usually plays a lot with connections and mirror chapters so I like to hypothesize what he wants to tell us. The first image of chapter 10: "At that time when I was a nobody", shows the moment when a teenage Yashiro is pressured by Misumi to formally join the yakuza. If we continue with the sequence, image 2 corresponds to chapter 31: "Feelings and ambitions intermingle", it is one of the climax moments of the story where they end up accusing Yashiro of the death of a member of the Gouda-gumi. There is a lot of talk about the sakazuki (official yakuza affiliation ceremony), loyalty and it is shown how yakuza groups protect their members in these situations of internal conflict. Finally we have the cover of the next chapter 58: "Emotions are left behind."

All of the above shows us narratively where we are heading in the story at the level of the yakuza (my favorite). Yashiro never wanted to join the yakuza out of necessity, he did it as a sacrifice to help Kageyama (I hope one day he finds out) and throughout his life he has shamelessly shown that he has never truly felt like a yakuza. When the first arc ends and Yashiro loses leadership as wakagashira of his group, "the" opportunity is created to distance himself from the yakuza. Misumi pressures him again and again to work directly with him again but so far he has dodged it with grace and elegance as only he knows how. Until that moment everything was working for Yashiro, he was still like a living dead, but he was half a body away from the yakuza until Doumeki enters the equation again. The cover of the new chapter says that emotions are left behind but will Yashiro be able to leave his emotions behind when it comes to protecting Doumeki? Precisely in the last chapters Yoneda has shown us how they have been gradually resolving their prejudices and emotions but now it is time to return to reality, we are at the beginning of another yakuza conflict.

On the other hand, I cannot fail to mention the visual narrative of the covers. Chapter 10 and 58 are a mirror, both Yashiros look at this little sparrow that represents the difficult decision to be in the yakuza, it is incredibly sublime. And the intermediate scene that has so much to say, Yashiro, unlike the other images, is standing, which means to me that he feels in a more empowered position, and let's add the details of the rain and the umbrella.

I couldn't leave aside the symbolism of these two elements. The rain has always been another character in saezuru, a symbol of pain, sadness, loss and its counterpoint the umbrella that protects me from everything. There are so many memorable scenes with these two elements to name a few: when Yashiro brings the umbrella to Aoi (Doumeki's sister) to protect her from her feelings for Doumeki because it reminds her of when he loved Kageyama, when Yashiro looks at a mother from the car protecting his son, a feeling that he had never felt (this is very sad, Yashiro is a survivor), the past and recent scenes where Doumeki protects Yashiro (for more information you can read aiaigasa). There is so much to remember and analyze that saezuru readers can, without exaggeration, read the story 100 times and find something new.

To finish, I think that for Yashiro and Doumeki it is time to decide whether or not they are going to officially be part of their groups with the advantages and risks that this entails. If you've read this far, I sincerely thank you for your interest in my ramblings and if there are problems in the text, you know, it's Google translator's fault hahahaha.

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #yashiro and doumeki in love #saezuru #saezuru analysis #saezuru spoilers #saezuru feels #saezuru fandom

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imustbenuts · 2 months ago

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nuts reading trigun in japanese 6 - kaite's foreshadowing. plant synchronization's downside

remember in my part 3 and 5 i was talking about hierarchy? surprisingly, it continues past chapter 8 with kaite. and wolfwood. triangulating nyoom

(to be honest... ive been doing these read and analysis completely blind in a 1st JP read through. so its possible ill find new nuances, get things wrong as the context shifts and changes, so my stuff looks like its scattered all over the place. sorry about that.)

i think ill start explaining names and meanings. kaite's name in japanese is kaito. カイト. this can be a homonym with i think 怪盗 (kaitou) in this case, which means phantom thief. for trying to help Neon with stealing loot from the Sand Steamer.

left bubble next to neon: 道案内は的確だったかね！？ I trust your guide has been giving you clear instructions?

^the headaches with manga translations has always been to keep texts short and reasonable for flow and readability, so these simplifications can and sometimes must happen.

but, add dakutens, the " on 2 of those カイト katakanas and suddenly, kaito turns into. ガイド gaido. Guide.

so Kaite has been playing as a guide to lead vash to his death at the hands of Neon. this page is such a fucking whammy with the wordplay going on. if you just read this in japanese theres a moment of "oh shit, no way, Kaite, vash just told you to stop betraying people! what the hell!"

yet theres a level of trust going on already, so its not as bad as it seems

nightow really likes his worldplay. i really like this page.

kaite redeems himself by later charging into the boiler room and helps turn the valve to stop the sand steamer from running off cliff and killing everyone on board....

hm. a guide. and those sequences

we sure have a lot of guides here. one who appears in the manga later with a kansai dialect. and another in TriStamp, where he is younger than he appears.

when i spoke about hierarchy and the fact that vash is over 150, i was also kind of hinting that all of current humanity are akin to children in the system of JP hierarchy. that takes on extra meaning with a little change of context and language

wolfwood is filling in the shoes of kaito here in tristamp. and within trimax, kaito foreshadows him. incredible.

theres actually more going on with wolfwood and certain design/changes choices i wanna talk about with tristamp but ill save it for another day. maybe when i run into him in this read later

Plant Synchronization downside.

....so theres a bad downside to vash synchronizing with the plant that i didn't catch. which also answers what the fuck was going on in tristamp when that version of him hits the ground

nightow mentions this in an interview, link here posted and transcribed by xoxo-otome (thank you!) that he likes action flicks and has incorporated a lot of action into his work. and its true. there is so much action in the form of sound effects.

reading through the entire manga and paying attention to the sfx peppered around offers a lot more context to whats happening in half of the panels that seemingly doesnt make sense

like this one where the top panel has "DADADADADA" sfx. so they're stomping down the corridor with their guns crossed and facing each other. the "GO OH" in the bottom panel emphasizes the sudden burst into open air. unfortunately, anyone who values their life and sanity in this economy will not want to translate trigun's sfxs 100%.

i should have paid more attention when reading trigun in english. but i didn't so here i am. in the trigunbookclub tag now doing this.

why is it important? here. this. below. when vash does his plant thing with his sister:

see those heart panels? i tried searching real quick but nobody seems to have pointed this out. i havent seen this in EN fanfics. maybe i missed it. maybe im stupid:

thats Dokun, the sound effect of a heart thumping. as vash synchronizes, the heart panels with the same sound effect appear, but they gradually split apart further with ellipses "..." to signify his heart beat slowing down. and down. and down....

Dokun, do kun, do... kun....

then the wings comes out. and the panel below it:

sfx: PIIIIIIIIIII

breathes. a FLAT LINE.

aaaaaaAA?!

何かなんだかわかりません I'm not sure what's going on. とにかくプラントの動きは一切止まっています But the Plant's movement has completely stopped. 同時に男にも呼吸　心音ともに停止してます It's the same with that man. His breathing and heartbeat sounds like it's stopped with the plant too.

AAAAA?!!?! the も means vash is in the same state as the plant?

i.... um. um.,, ANYWAY-

AAAAAAAAAAAA?! HUH?! HUH??? HUH?!

is THIS why he has a metal grate over his heart? something happened and he an an operation on his heart???? by some engineer maybe? what? huh? am i reading this wrong? what? wait, hello? HEY!!!

what the fuck. okAY--?!

and then he just. pretends like nothing's happened. doesnt tell kaito anything. and he leaves the Sand Steamer.

and im going to have to sleep bc its 5 am now and pretend like i didnt just realize something this big right in front of my eyes during the first read.

#trigun #trigunbookclub #trigun stampede #vash the stampede

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rin-fukuroi · 9 months ago

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Hey~ I don’t know if you would agree to write a work with this character, but I feel real despair that there are practically no decent works with this character. Gepard leads in sex. Please… Maybe incest with a yandere or deflowering? I'm so tired of reading Gepard passively and no one understands me.

Hi! (o˘◡˘o)

I think I can help you with that. How about everything at once? I hope this heals your wounds, because I'm also outraged by the fact that many writers describe Gepard as a shy and passive guy as possible, when he is completely different. No, of course he's charming and sweet, but damn, he's the CAPTAIN. He's a man with a core, stubborn and principled, a man who has managed to earn trust, which means he is firm in his beliefs and a sense of justice is not alien to him at all. Of course, he can be gentle with his beloved, but come on, who didn't imagine how his hand in this metal glove squeezes someone's (for example, ours) throat? I imagined it! I don't care about the rest. I'm very glad that I'm not the only one who loves dominant strong men, so I was happy to write this work for you. I hope you like it~

𝐀 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞 [𝐆𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: dom!older brother!Gepard x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, incest, yandere, stalking, flogging, light choking, petting, loss of virginity, rape (?), rough public sex, creampie, references to pregnancy.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Poylow, BAUWZ, Nito-Onna - Hate You

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

art by @tksm_66

You love your family, really. Your sisters have always been so kind to you that you could even call them your friends, despite the age difference, but at some points they still made you remember that they are your relatives. Serval can be overly caring, but a Lynx, on the contrary, is freedom-loving, so sometimes you have to return to the role of an older sister, looking after her. And yet you love them. Even Gepard.

Why «even»? It's hard to say exactly where your strange relationship originates from, because you didn't immediately realize that there was something unnatural in them. Does older brother take care of you? Well, all relatives take care of each other, don't they? Does he like to spend all his free time with you? You're probably close enough, and that's great. Does your older brother kiss you, hug you, and take a bath with you? Oh, it's very sweet that he cared and loved his little sister so much as a child.

But your childhood ended a long time ago, and your relationship has not changed at all.

Gepard trying to be unobtrusive, but it turns out to be very lousy. You know that he secretly looks into your phone, studying each of your correspondence, but you don't say anything, because your brother just doesn't want you to get involved with bad people, right? Gepard doesn't want you to live separately, despite the fact that you have been on your feet for a long time and can afford it, but you keep silent and agree, because he just wants you to be there because he wants to protect you. Gepard forbids you to go on dates and get to know other men, but you don't mind, even though you don't understand what he cares about it. Gepard suggests that you take a shower together when the two of you return home, because he always meets you after your shift, despite his own unstable schedule, and you… agree, because this is your brother, there's nothing wrong with that, right?

You're confused. Seeing the relationships in your friends' families, you gradually begin to pay attention to the fact that even between a brother and sister there should be a distance that you and Gepard don't have. Are they crazy or are you?

— Geppie's just worried about you, honey! Don't pay attention, one day he'll definitely calm down, you just have to show him that you have really grown up and no longer need his care.

Serval's words are firmly embedded in your brain, because during this recent conversation, you still didn't understand that, in fact, even the older sister confirmed that what you told her was not quite right. You didn't talk about sharing a bathroom, you didn't talk about how Gepard kisses you on the corner of your lips when he leaves for work in the morning, you didn't talk about how he violates your personal space. Probably, deep down, you really knew that it shouldn't be like this, so you didn't tell the truth.

You love your older brother, you really do. That's why you decided to talk to him first. For some reason, it was so disturbing and exciting to start a conversation, but you are a family, and he'll understand you if you are only sincere, right? It should have been like this.

— You're still young and don't understand that living away from your family will only harm you. I take care of you, I give you everything you want, why do you want to run away so much?

«Because your concern is suffocating me. Because you only give me what you want. You limit me, control me, and forbid me to live my life. It's wrong, it shouldn't be like this…», — you'ld like to say it out loud. These words were already on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst into the air, but they remained buried deep in your throat when you humbly swallowed every objection and dissatisfaction.

— I'm sorry, brother…

His big palm on top of your head and the cold metal from the plate on Gepard's uniform pressing against your face made you feel so… uncomfortable for the first time.

That's why you don't want to go home right now, and you got off early on purpose so you wouldn't have to meet Gepard. You'ld like to share his warm feelings, but you can no longer deceive yourself. It burden you.

You wander among the exhibits of an empty museum, preparing to close, but you don't stop at anything, too immersed in your own thoughts. Even almost all the employees have already gone home. Quietly, calmly. You were not mistaken when you decided to choose this particular place to cool your head a little. But even here, for some reason, it seems to you as if your brother's gaze is following you at every step. You don't remember the last time you went out without him, because Gepard seems to be doing everything on purpose so that you don't even cross paths with your friends on the way home, spending your evenings in his company.

Why are you just now starting to realize how sick you are of his company? It must be terrible to even let the thought that you want your brother to disappear, but… wouldn't it be easier for you to breathe without him?

— Oh, isn't that my old friend's little sister? — a sweet melodious male voice breaks into the silence that presses on you, and at first you don't even understand if this person is addressing you, just briefly turning back, casting an incredulous glance at the stranger. The tall blue-haired man grins, clapping his hands before coming closer as soon as the bright green eyes notice that you have stopped. — Well, that's right! Y/N, yeah?

— Do we know each other?.. — you're frowning, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to look and sound confident, but your posture is as scared and constrained as your thoughts continue to swarm in your head.

— Oh, didn't my dear friend tell you about Sampo? — the theatrical man pretends to be sad, then breaks into a sly grin again. — I suppose it's never too late to introduce ourselves to each other. Although I already know your name, and you just heard Sampo's name… hmm, does that mean that we know each other now?

— P-probably… — you mumble softly, backing away slightly as the tall man bends over, carefully studying your face.

— This is the first time I've seen you not in the company of my friend.

— And I actually see you for the first time, — you smile crookedly, causing Sampo to respond with a soft laugh.

— Don't be shy, my dear friend! — oh, you're wondering why Gepard didn't tell you about this man. — So how can Sampo serve you?

— Huh?

— Oh, what should Sampo do?… The museum is closing soon, and I'm spending time with my new friend for the first time…

— Do you… work here? — you raise an eyebrow in disbelief, to which the man perks up, proudly resting his palm on his side.

— That's right, that's right! Sampo Koski is at your service! — it's unlikely that you'll find a common language with this person.

— May I ask how it happened? I'm sorry, but you don't really look like…

— Ah, it's a long story! — Sampo interrupts, grinning nervously and looking away. — You mean I don't look like a law-abiding citizen? How many times has Sampo heard this, and every time these words break my heart…

— N-no, I didn't mean to offend you, — you stretch out your hand to the man who dramatically clasped his forehead with his palm, but almost immediately pull it back.

— You're so sweet, unlike your brother. Although his indifference and callousness, of course, has its own special charm, — the man's facial expressions change like masks, and now he is smiling again, closing his eyes and leaning closer to your face. — So, I could leave the museum open for a while longer, and we could chat a little longer!

You wrap your arms around your own shoulders, warily meeting Sampo's gaze when he opens his eyes, and you are already opening your mouth to gently refuse the man, when suddenly, with a dull clap, someone's big palm lands on the shoulder of your new "friend".

Sampo straightens up instantly, turning around anxiously. The man's face instantly contorts into an awkward expression when the green eyes meet the cold, sharp gaze of the Captain, who furrowed his eyebrows in anger. You feel your heart jumping in your chest, and your fingers go numb as you convulsively squeeze the hem of your skirt, watching your brother's fist tremble, about to hit Sampo.

— Calm down, calm down, my friend, I was about to leave!

— Why are you with him? — for the first time, you hear the burning anger in your brother's voice when he addresses you, making you cringe in place as soon as the sharp gaze of his blue eyes pins you to the floor.

— I… We were just talking… — tears come to your eyes, and a sharp lump squeezes your throat, muffling your voice, but as soon as you see that Gepard is looking at the nervously grinning Sampo again, your body moves by itself, and you rush forward, convulsively grabbing your brother by the elbow. — I swear, he just came over to say that the museum will close soon! Nothing more!

— Ha ha ha… That's how it was, Sampo didn't want to inconvenience his new friend.…

— Friend? — the blue irises seem to be covered with an icy crust when Gepard squeezes Sampo's shoulder harder, ignoring your pathetic attempts to pull his hand away from the poor man, who now seems to get what he deserves.

— W-we're not friends, this is the first time I've seen him, Gepard, please! — tears slowly begin to roll down your cheeks, and your fingers press harder into the metal on your brother's glove, before he still seems to listen to your pleas, and lets go of Sampo, but still does not take his eyes off him.

— You'd better get as far away as possible, because as soon as I talk to my sister, you'll be next.

Sampo decides not to answer anything, so as not to inflame the atmosphere even more, and just nods briefly, walking behind your brother and turning to you one last time, folding his palms in front of his face and arching his eyebrows in a guilty apologetic expression before hurriedly leaving.

Silence. While you were here alone, this silence was alarming, but now it terrifies you to the point of chilling shivers running down your spine. You've never been afraid of your own brother like you are now. You didn't do anything wrong, you were even honest with him, but… for some reason, the feeling that you made an unforgivable mistake doesn't leave you, becoming more and more distinct as Gepard continues to remain silent, not even meeting your gaze, but just looking somewhere in the aside while you guiltily examine his angry face.

— Brother, I…

— I asked you, — Gepard interrupts, addressing you in a stern tone and finally turning his head, turning his icy gaze on you. — Do you need this? Is this the kind of life you want? So that this trash can just come up and talk to you? Although, I can see that you didn't even mind at all.

— No, it's not like that! I just came here to get some air, and he…

— To get some air? You didn't wait for me, — a big hand in a white glove painfully grabs your wrist, and tears come to your eyes with renewed vigor, blurring the image of your brother looming over you with complete disappointment in his gaze. — Why, Y/N?

— Because I'm tired! — you're choking out, stuttering and sniffing. — I'm not a child anymore, and you are… I can't take a step without you, you're watching me, acting like… — you stop, not daring to say what you were going to say, and Gepard bends even lower to your tear-stained face, staring intently into your reddened eyes.

— Like what? Finish it, Y/N.

— Like… — you inhale the air intermittently, then exhale it back just as jerkily before continuing, hastily trying to blink tears from your eyelashes so that you can see your brother's face as clearly as possible. — Like you're my boyfriend.

The man's lips tighten and the grip on your wrist loosens slightly as the blue eyes continue to stare at you without blinking. You really said that. You were afraid to even admit this thought, but these words slipped out of your mouth by themselves, finally voicing what had been bothering you all these years. Gepard has crossed some line that you didn't even know existed until you felt that his presence was making you suffocate. This has to stop. Now.

— I don't understand, is this a bad thing?

— Wh-what?..

— No one knows you better than I do, and they never will. I won't let that happen, — Gepard's eyebrows furrow, and his free hand settles on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. — Why do you want other men so much? What can they give you that I can't?

It's like a bad… bad, bad dream. The ringing in your ears drowns out Gepard's words, and your brother's arm falls limply from his elbow until he presses you against the wall with the painting. The grip on your wrist strengthens again when Gepard forcefully lifts and presses your hand against the cold concrete, pulling you out of your stupor and returning you back to the disgusting reality from which you are trying to fight off with your free palm, but it also suffers the same sad fate.

— Let me go! I don't understand what you're talking about.… We are a family! — you squirm weakly in Gepard's grip as he shackles your wrists above your head, freeing one hand to grab your throat with it. Not too much, but enough to obstruct your breathing.

— Exactly, Y/N, we are a family, — there seemed to be no trace of the sweet caring Gepard. A completely different person is looking at you now. Obsessed, violent, completely inaudible and not listening to what you're trying to tell him. — But you stopped appreciating what I do for you, you don't appreciate how much I value you.

— I appreciate it! But you're my brother, damn… Let me go, Gepard, please… — you start crying again, writhing in your brother's grip, still hoping that he just had a bad day, and if he sees your tears now, he will be the same again… And your pathetic hopes are justified when you feel like a gloved hand releases your neck, allowing you to take a full deep breath.

— I've been so stupid all this time when I thought you understood me. I thought you were old enough to make the right choice, but no, you are still the same child in the body of an adult who has never been punished for misconduct, so now you can afford to be naughty.

— Gepard?.. — you call out to your brother almost in a whisper, anxiously trying to look into his eyes, but his gaze is fixed somewhere down while he hurriedly pulls the belt out of his trousers.

— If you haven't managed to grow up, then, as an older brother, I'm obliged to raise you, — after these words, you don't even have time to open your lips to answer anything, at least something to Gepard, before you are forcibly turned around and pressed face to the wall, and your hands are painfully wrung behind your back tearing a plaintive cry out of his strangled throat.

— Gepard! Brother, I beg you… that's enough, let's go home! Forgive me!

He's not listening. You can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze on your own body as he lifts up your skirt and casually pulls your underwear down your legs.

— Forgive you? I'm not mad at you, Y/N, — even his voice is cold, sending uncontrollable shivers through my skin. Gepard is silent for a moment, but the back of your head is squeezed by some unpleasant premonition, before your ass is struck by an unbearably burning pain from the whiplash of the belt. The air is knocked out of your clenched lungs, and your nails reflexively dug into your own palms when the walls of the museum heard your heart-rending scream.

— G-Gepard! Please!.. — you scream when you feel some movement behind your back, realizing that your brother swung again, after which another portion of pain stung your flesh.

— I'm just disappointed...

The man mumbles indifferently, ignoring your attempts to escape and hoarse screams, interrupted by coughing when you start choking on your own tears and saliva. And then Gepard strikes again.

— And I have to correct my own mistake.

Blue eyes coldly watch as your flesh turns red, and the stripes from the belt swell on your skin, but Gepard strikes again, and then again, without losing sight of a single shudder of your poor body. You've always been a defenseless little sister to him, whom Gepard so desperately wanted to protect. For himself.

How can you get to someone else? He raised you, he gave you a love that no one in this world is capable of giving you, he was there for you, sharing joys and sorrows with you. You have to choose him. He doesn't accept any other outcome.

The last blow turned out to be more painful than all the previous ones, as if all the disappointment and anger that you awakened in Gepard were now imprinted on your body with pulsating bruises and burning pain, pulling more and more tears from your squeezed eyes.

— I didn't want to hurt you, Y/N … — Gepard says with a barely perceptible note of sadness in his voice, bowing his head and pressing his forehead to the top of your head. — But otherwise you'll slip away from me… I can't let that happen.

You just sniffle and sob softly, pressing your face against the wall, feeling the blood rise to the places where Gepard's fingers continue to press into the skin of your wrists with force. Has he always been like this? Your brother couldn't have changed in a few miserable minutes. You just didn't notice, did you? You didn't notice how obsessed he was with you.

— I should have punished you, but… let me make it up to you and show you that I can be more than just a brother to you.

You barely catch your brother's words because of the ringing that continues to crash into your ears, but for some reason his gentle, guilty tone involuntarily tightened your stomach and nausea rose in your throat, as if now you missed the words that you should have heard, but you don't want to listen so much. You hear the metal belt buckle hitting the floor of the museum, catch the muffled rustle of clothes, feel Gepard's warm palm making its way down your stomach and settling between your legs, and reflexively squeeze your hips, opening your eyes in fright.

— N-no, what are you…?

— Relax, Y/N. I know you, I know what you like… — the rough pads of your fingers press on the dry clitoris, sending an unpleasant wave of pleasure through your body. — If you think there's something I can't help you with, then that's not the case. If you need a lover, I'll be him for you, — Gepard's lips press against your hair, and his fingers gently massage the treacherously trembling lump, slowly sliding down between the folds until your brother feels the sparsely released moisture, exhaling contentedly and returning back to the clitoris. — See? Your body reacts to me, doesn't that prove that I'm not just a brother to you?

— Stop it, please… I can't… — you break into sobs, clenching your teeth and closing your eyes in resignation, feeling something hot and hard pushing insistently between your closed thighs. — Please, at least not here…

— Are you afraid that someone will hear us? I sent Eris home, we're alone. Unless your new friend decided to stay and watch.

— I… I'm a virgin, brother, please… — even a whisper sounds so hoarse, coming off your tongue after screams tearing at your throat, but you still find the strength to speak, without losing hope that this will stop Gepard.

— I know. The fact that I'm going to be your first man should finally make you look at me differently, shouldn't it?

— I… don't know… Ng-h! — you cry out in pain as Gepards's hips press against your bruised bottom and his cock penetrates between your thighs before sliding back out, now resting against your narrow entrance.

— It's okay, just trust me, — Gepard says soothingly, gently but persistently pressing on your closed thighs with his knee, effortlessly forcing them apart.

Resilient hot flesh slowly enters the vagina, stretching the virgin walls, and your body is hit by a new, unknown pain. It's too big. You feel your walls bursting at the seams around his cock, indifferently continuing to make its way deep into the vagina, accompanied by your stifled sobs and exhausted screams. The incessant movements of your brother's fingers massaging the clitoris slightly dampen the painful sensations of the first penetration, but this is still not enough.

Gepard's hot breath burns your scalp when it finally enters you completely, stopping for a few seconds, giving you time to get used to it. As if a few measly moments would be enough to get used to the idea of your own brother's cock inside you, whose hands never loosened their grip, holding your wrists firmly against your back.

— Just be patient for a while. I promise this pain will go away, don't you believe me?

You're not answering. Impotence is so disgusting that you feel like you're about to throw up, and maybe Gepard would even stop if it turned you inside out, but it doesn't happen. Your head is so heavy, and even behind your closed eyelids you can feel everything spinning uncontrollably. You are afraid to open your eyes, afraid to believe that what is happening now is real.

But no matter how hard you try to deny it, everything is happening for real. Gepard really carefully kisses the top of your head, really pulls out his cock from your insides, leaving only the head bleeding from the ejaculate in the vagina, then slowly filling you again, and his fingers really massage your clitoris, causing treacherous arousal, from which you are overcome with even greater nausea.

Why are you pleased? Because he's your brother? No, that's not right. You should hate him, should hate yourself for your body not obeying, enjoying the even still slightly painful languid thrusts.

But you… enjoy it.

Every time when Gepard comes out of you, tiny drops of blood seep out, mixed with the transparent juices of treacherous arousal, trickling down your thighs. You hear your brother's voice murmuring reassuringly into your hair, but you can't make out a word, catching only the nasty ringing that has settled in the depths of your ears.

You're so narrow inside, so warm and pleasant, just like Gepard imagined. He's a little embarrassed to admit even to himself that he did sometimes imagine your first sex when he took a shower with you. Your body has changed so much, you have become such a beauty, isn't it natural that he was aroused by your naked body?

And now it belongs to him.

Your brother feels so good that he inevitably becomes greedy, speeding up the pace, just assuming that now you won't be hurt anymore. This bliss that he is experiencing now is so alluring and seductive, he just can't help himself. Of course, Gepard would like this to happen in a more intimate setting, under more pleasant circumstances, but the anger that you made him feel while talking to Sampo has been reborn into this perverted desire that he cannot control.

Just once… Just once, won't you let your brother show weakness?

— No one… I won't let anyone talk to you, see you, touch you anymore… — thoughts break out of Gepard's tongue by themselves, and he doesn't even notice how his thrusts have become rougher, and his groin began to slash into your mutilated ass.

You're so hot, it's so hard to breathe, but what scares you even more is the strangely growing feeling in your lower abdomen. You don't know what it is, but for some reason you are sure that you should not give in to it, you should resist. However, it still wins up over and over again, spreading in scalding waves under the skin.

Your pulse vibrates so clearly under the pads of Gepard's fingers, and something comes out of your strangled throat that sounds more and more like the moans he dreamed of. It's too much, you're too good, too perfect. He can cum inside you, won't you mind? If suddenly you can get pregnant from him… How wonderful your children will be, can you imagine?

A few more careless thrusts, a few rough presses on your clitoris, and your brother feels you clench even tighter around his cock, and your back arches even under the pressure of his hand.

— That's it… Feel it, Y/N... Remember that only I can give you such pleasure… — a restrained moan, more like a growl, escapes from the man's throat, and the last ruthless thrust makes your chest painfully crash into the wall.

Your insides feel numb, but you still feel something viscous filling you when your brother's cock freezes and now pulsates so clearly in the spasming walls.

— You're mine… Do you hear it, Y/N? You belong only to me… — Gepard whispers to you as the last drops of sperm flow out of the urethra of his cock. — I'll never leave you. I'll never betray you. Just don't… don't try to replace me anymore.

You open your eyelids slightly, watching the tears fall from your trembling eyelashes and hit the floor under your feet.

If this isn't a nightmare that looks so disgustingly like reality, then what is?..

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #gepard #gepard x you #gepard x reader #gepard smut #hsr smut

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anemonelovesfiction · 1 year ago

Text

Fated Mates 2

Ao’nung x fem! Human reader

Warnings ⚠️: Sex, p in v, fingering (bc Ao’s fingers make me drool), obviously these characters are aged tf up

Y’all I included a little tradition within a marriage ceremony (not Ao & Y/n) please someone tell me if its cute bc I thought it was but now idk, I need like hella reassurance for my skxawng ass.

As always, English text is stricken through, except a blurb where I wrote a note bc there is too much English and I refused to strike through a large some of text

I did make a tag list, but personally I don’t think it’s my forte so I don’t believe I’ll be doing it again, I hope y’all can understand🥺

Tag List 🏷️ @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @universal-s1ut @lili-flower03 @deadpool15

Translation Station

Ma’Sempul: My father

Ma’itan: My son

Tawtute: Sky Person (used as “human”)

Tsahik: Spirtual healer

Tsakarem: Tsahik in training

Kinä: Seven (7)

Tìyawn: Love (or “My Love”)

Oel ngati kameie: I see you

Tewng: Loincloth

Yawne: Beloved

Skxawng: Moron

Tsmuke: Sister

Tsmukan: Brother

Sa’nok: Mother

Word count: 7.9K not as long as the other one but still

<<Previous | Next>>

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“How is she?”

“I’m sorry?” I asked confusion evident in my voice and face as he asks me that question, I turn to face my father as he fails at hiding the amused glint in his eye.

“The girl you have spent your nights with for the past month.” He states as a smile breaks out onto his features and I’m a blushing mess. There was no way for me to hide it since my face had already given it away but I tried to move this along smoothly.

“It’s enough that mom knows, now you. Must you ask such private questions?” I groaned internally, the only reason he could be commenting on it had to be because my mother was growing impatient at finding any new information about it.

“Must you always hide everything from us?” He asks

“Ma’Sempul- we’re hunting, is now the time to ask such questions.” I asked.

“I worry about you ma‘itan.” He places a hand on my shoulder before one of the men hiding a ways from us signals at us.

“Thats the signal, lets go,” I broke the conversation short as I dove, my father following behind me.

We’d gotten up extremely early for this hunt to be successful. Quite a few people had gotten married during the last couple weeks and we had the last of the group marrying today. Every day we gathered together, the male of the couple included, to hunt for the feast at our communal dinner, it was the last test that not only could he provide for his mate, but when extreme circumstances arose, he too could prove useful to the clan.

The male of the soon-to-be mated pair had to plan the hunt the day of their union. Plan out where we were to swim, what we were to hunt, and instruct us on skinning the creature and instruct us how to cook it. We prided ourselves in being the providers for our clan and taking care of our mate, the women stayed behind and prepared our work stations once we got back.

It was a beautiful thing to witness a union of two souls, the night was an entire celebration dedicated to them, their friends and family showing their support toward them. I couldn’t wait for Tsireya’s, I’m sure they would make the decision here soon but I wouldn’t know when.

Capturing the beast wasn’t easy, the human boy was assisting as well and proved useful to us. He was great at holding his breath underwater, not as strong as we were, but could definitely hold his own. He, Lo’ak, and Rotxo worked very well together and it prided me knowing that these were the great men who were a part of Y/n’s life.

_________

“Could we talk about something?” Tsireya asks and her face was filled with worry, maybe happiness, confusion? I was usually good at reading her but today I was off.

“That depends, if it’s about Lo’ak, I’d really prefer to not hear it.” Kiri states as she gathers the same sized seashells into a basket. These were going to be used as decoration for tonights union.

“Kiri, stop being rude.” I tease and playfully roll my eyes before turning to the beautiful teal goddess before me

“Is something bothering you?” I asked her as I continued weaving this humongous garment with Tsireya on the other side of it.

They had a tradition where the two stomp on the middle shell, which happened to be the larger one, and however many pieces it broke into represented the two of them as well as the children they were to have. They would then tie their favorite piece of the shell in their song cord, their children's song cord would start with a piece of the broken shell representing both parents becoming one. This garment was going to be thrown around the two who were finalizing their union today as a means to show the clan that they were coming together after they pick their favorite piece and the rest placed in a small container they would take home.

“It’s about Ao’nung,” She bites her lip and apologetically looks at me.

“There must be something interesting for you to want to talk about your brother,” Kiri mentions and I have to force an angry/disgusted look on my face to keep up with the appearance.

“If I could mentally ascend to Eywa right now, I would.” I commented and she smiles while shaking her head to herself.

“Well, he’s been seeing someone recently.” She admits and I fight the urge to freeze, seem curious, or appear affected by her words.

“The sooner he’s out of our hair the better.” I go back to focusing on the weaving and Kiri laughs at that.

“Isn’t that a good thing, ‘Reya?” Kiri asks her and Tsireya looks kind of bothered.

“Oh, sweets, I’m sorry. Don’t take my comments to heart, but it looks like its bothering you, is this a bad thing?” I asked as the small frown had already edged itself into my heart. She shakes her head at my question.

“No, it’s just-“ She sighs and stops weaving, considering this was a two-person job I too had to stop weaving. She lets out a big sigh but still seems saddened.

“You can tell us, we’ll stop being assholes about it.” Kiri speaks up.

“He’s just different is all.” She states and looks like she’s embarrassed for what she said and just about speaks again- more than likely to change the subject.

“Different how?” I ask and she closes her mouth and looks up at me, her eyes very thankful that I’d asked.

“He just seems more patient and kind. His temper isn’t as harsh as it used to be and he is even kinder to the children because of it. I can only assume it has to do with this person he meets up with.”

“But it bothers you?” I asked again and she shakes her head.

“No! This change is good, it is something he needs. But he has yet to share with me and this big secret has been going on for a month. We share everything together and not being let in on this secret makes me feel like he does not trust me.”

“Don’t say that, I’m sure he is just very nervous about it, or maybe this person is very shy? Don’t take it personal, ‘Reya, when he comes home tonight why don’t you ask him about it, if he doesn’t want to share let him know you’re there for him and he will share when he’s ready.” Kiri offers and I look back and smile at her words of wisdom. She always knew what to say to make anybody feel better.

“I am just too nervous to talk with him about it.” Tsireya mentions.

“Hey, remember how nervous you were when you talked to him about Lo’ak?” I asked her and she nodded.

“He might be feeling that same way, but he was supportive- or at least I think he was, because you’re courting Lo’ak now. I’m sure he’s more nervous to tell you than you are of asking him.” I told her and she nods in understanding.

Just then we all hear the sound of the horn signifying the return of the hunters. Tsireya turns and I take advantage of her eyes being off me to scan the crowd for her brother, unable to find him in the massive crowd of teal bodies, although Lo’ak stood out to me and so did Spider. I’m glad I had the weaved garment nearby as soon as Tsireya turns since my eyes looked at my finger positioning at the same time she turned.

“Don’t worry, Y/n, we’re almost done.” She reassures me and I look back up at her, nodding my head as we started weaving once more.

“How long does that usually take?” I asked her.

“It’s tradition for the tsahik to say a few words and bless the union of the pair. Then we celebrate all night with dancing, singing, drinking, it lasts a long time too.”

“How soon do you think they’ll have kids?” I ask in genuine curiosity before feeling Kiri’s lightest swat at the back of my head and Tsireya full on laughing.

“Sorry, I forget tawtute are more invasive than you guys, but I was genuinely curious Kiri, I swear I wasn’t making a joke.” I turned my head toward her as she was squatting behind me finishing separating the shells.

“It depends on them,” Tsireya answered.

_________

Eclipse was quick to come from the moment we’d all finished cooking and getting ready for the union. The couple always had the tsahik speak blessings on them just before eclipse started and once it was over the two would share with the clan the vows they choose to make for their partner.

After the vows are shared, the tsakarem- Tsireya- lays down the garment behind the two and they turn to step on the shell in the middle. At this very moment the two were sharing their vows about their love for each other and I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over and catch a glimpse of Y/n.

She had one of her hands covering her mouth in awe as her other hand wiped away the tears escaping her eyes. I could see her sniffle a bit to contain herself and Kiri leans over to pat the girls head gently. I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction toward the ceremony and felt my heart swell with pride at the absolute sweet heart she is.

The couple had turned around and broken the shell, Tsireya kneeling on the floor to count the pieces the shell had broken into.

“Kinä!” Tsireya yells as everyone cheers.

Seven, they’re going to have five children between the two, what a blessing! I turned with a slight smile of my own and capture Y/n’s eyes with my own and she lifts her hand to sign a quick Hello. I signed back and she smiles widely.

It doesn’t take long for the singing to begin after they had gathered their shell pieces and everyone stood up. This would be the perfect opportunity to slip away to the woods with Y/n. I capture her eyes once more and cock my head back toward the woods and she nods her head, turning back to pretend to be paying attention to whatever her brother was saying.

I’d started walking away first, knowing she’d have to find her own way out of the conversation she was in. We often did this to prevent anyone from noticing us slipping away together and starting a rumor that would spread faster than whatever rumor was started that morning.

I knew it would probably take a bit for her to come meet me in the clearing so I’d decided to lurk a bit closer toward the edge of the woods to just watch her. Only to flare my nose when I’d noticed Rotxo walk up to her, wondering what in the great mother he thought he was doing. I’d wanted to walk over to her and pick her up and away from his presence but I knew what would happen if I did.

I didn’t need to be upsetting my mother at this moment, not that I would have cared, but she was due to give birth soon. And having my sibling pop out while my mother was stressed wasn’t a good mix. I also didn’t want to embarrass Y/n in front of her family or let her sweet ears listen to whatever kind of messed up comments the clan would have to say. I also don’t want to upstage the happy couple that decided to stay for a while before heading off toward the spirit tree.

I could see Y/n laugh at whatever Rotxo had said and could feel the pure jealousy filling the pit of my stomach. He smiled at her reaction and seemed overall nervous, I was easily angered and my tail swayed furiously. He’d nodded at what she said and headed off before she looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention to her, once she was in the clear she started heading toward the wooded area again, I’d backed off from plain sight and started trudging my way toward the clearing.

I could hear her tiny footsteps walking near the clearing but I had my back turned toward her as I sat with my thoughts and fidgeted with my fingers. I truly did not want to be jealous, but I couldn’t help to feel that way, I had no idea what else to do.

“Guess who!” She had placed her hands over my eyes. She told me a little bit ago that tawtute often did this to one another, what for I can’t say, but it defeats the purpose when I know her smell, her voice, and I could hear her smacking her feet with every step.

“Tìyawn, you scare the sea life within a five mile radius with how loud you walk.” I stated as her arms slip from my sight, my eyes adjusting toward the bioluminescent lights provided by the plants around us, and her pouty face comes around to greet me. I smile softly and reach for her face, pulling her into a sweet short kiss, pulling back from her and staring at her eyes.

“That was mean.” She stated in fake hurt as she crossed her arms next, stomping her feet as she turned around, acting like a child. But I carefully snake my arm around her waist and pull her back toward me, kissing the back of her neck, her resolve crumbling.

“Thats loser talk, little one.” I nuzzle the back of her neck with my nose and she shivers at the touch, her smell was wonderful and it helped calm me down. I took a couple of sniffs before she pulled herself away from me.

“I need to talk to you about something,” She mentioned seriously and it made my heart drop.

“Does it have to do with why Rotxo was all over you?” I asked and felt like kicking myself in the face, she was confused and another emotion settled onto her features, but I couldn’t pinpoint what.

“Where you watching me?” She asks with a hint of something in her voice but it was frustrating me that I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“No,” I looked away from her gaze but she laughs lightly. Was this amusing to her?

“Look at me,” She stated so gently but I didn’t have to heart to, settling to looking at the ground, but feeling her soft hands on my cheeks as she turned my face to look at hers was making me feel shy.

“Hey,” She coo’s gently and I finally look at her. Her smile was still evident and she looks amused.

“I do not-“ I was cut off as she places the backs of her fingers on my mouth to shush me.

“Theres no need to be jealous, Ao’nung, Rotxo was telling me about how his situationship was going along. He’s confided in me as a friend.”

“I’m not jealous.” I scoff and look away before feeling her hands guiding my stare back toward her.

“No, of course not, my mistake.” She runs her thumbs against my cheeks lovingly that I couldn’t help but close my eyes and hum happily. “But you don’t have to worry about me being interested in anyone else, okay?” She makes it sound like a question but I know she wasn’t really awaiting an answer. I’d opened my eyes as she spoke but felt doubtful.

“But what if you find someone else?” I asked her and felt my insecurities rising.

“Never. I only see you, Tìyawn, only you.” She reassures me.

“Oel ngati kameie, little one,” I stated almost immediately after she had and we meet in the middle for a kiss.

“You know what we should do right now?” She asks me as she backs up from my lips and I pout slightly at the loss of her being so close.

“What?”

“Have sex in the water-“ She tries hiding her amusement but her eyes were twinkling.

_________

Further on closer toward the opposite edge of the woods where we’d come from are more walkways that reach smaller islands within the Metkayina and the other clans nearby. There was usually someone watching post nearby or walking around but due to the celebration, Tonowari was nice enough to let them have a small break and come down to have fun.

“There is something I wanted to tell you,” I stated while panting as his fangs tickled my neck.

“Mm,” He mutter mindlessly but his ears flicker up toward me to listen.

“Your dad is hot-“ I hold back a giggle as he makes a disapproving look, his lips swollen from our heavy make out session, biting my lip as I look down at his mouth and back up his eyes.

“Yeah?” His eyes darkened as his head tilts to the side, hands gingerly gripping my thighs and dragging me toward him. “Why is that?” He asks with a finger on my chin, making sure I don’t shy away from his intense eye contact.

“The tattoo’s that cover his face, he’s very kind, his voice is deep, he’s very strong.” I listed while staring right at Ao’nung, his smirk settling in his face.

“I’ve got tattoos on my face.” He stated as his hands start running across my thighs softly.

“Not very many,” I retort and his big hands start caressing my inner thighs.

“Am I not kind to you, little one?” He asks while kissing at my jaw line and once again down my neck, his fingers dangerously close to where I needed them.

“I-I guess-“ I gasp as he finally pushes my tewng to the side and glides his thumb over my clit.

“Is my voice not deep when I pleasure you?” He asks straight into my ear and plunges one finger straight in and I couldn’t help but moan.

“Hmm?” He grazes my g-spot and I shudder under him, closing my eyes and enjoying his ministrations. I feel his finger remain still and it causes me to open my eyes again.

“Yes!” I whine and he chuckles.

“Look at how pathetic you are and I’ve only used one finger. Do you really think you could handle my father?” He asks cockily.

“Just want you-“ I groan as he slides a second finger in.

“Hmm, are you certain?” He purposely curls them over my G-spot, not even bothering to thrust them anymore, just moving them over my spongey spot repeatedly.

“Am I too weak for you?” He asks and pecks my lips.

“N-no,“ I try concentrating on my words but concentrate on bucking my hips instead, eyes closed tightly, grasping onto his arm for dear life as he continues pleasuring me.

“Fuck,” I moan out loudly and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I thought you wanted to do this in the water.”

“Hmm,” I buck my hips against his fingers.

“You gonna come?” He asks and I only nod my head as much as I could just to feel the orgasm ripped away from me as he removes his fingers. But before he says anything I crawl on his lap kissing him and grinding myself over his noticeable bulge.

“It almost feels like you prefer me over my father,” He teases while sliding me against his body as he stands, discarding his tewng in the sand, and walking into the water.

“Wait what about mine-“ I asked but it was too late.

“Just in case anyone comes by unexpectedly, you’ll be safe.” He kisses me and bites my bottom lip teasingly.

“I do prefer you over your father,” I wrapped my arms around his neck answering his previous question.

“I’m not convinced,” he once again moves my tewng to the side, and pushes his penis in one go, after having done this for the past month its safe to say he fits well, and the initial sting does bother me but it doesn’t hurt as bad as before when we’d first done it.

“Oh shit-“ I gasp and shut my eyes and squeeze my legs wrapped around his waist, my arms squeezing his neck, his own hands squeezing my hips.

“You feel so good little one, such a good girl taking my cock like that,”

I tried not to react to what he was saying but I’m sure my pussy was giving it away, his smirk returning on his face causing me to shiver.

“You like that?” He asks but doesn’t giving me a chance to answer before thrusting his hips upward.

“W-wait!” I whine as he continues thrusting rapidly, feeling my orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine, pretty girl, all mine.” He grows into my ear and the possessiveness coming from it makes me moan loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” The mantra spills out of my lips so easily and I can hear him grunting with every thrust.

“Touch me, little one, touch my ears-“ He begs and his hands squeeze my hips harder, but I bring my hands up to caress his ears, somehow he thrusts even faster and his hips are meeting mine.

“Fuck!” I yell as his pelvis strokes my clit deliciously with how deep, fast, and hard he was going. I could feel his ears trembling under my touch and the most unexpected constant flow of whimpers coming from his mouth.

“Such a good girl, wanna paint your pretty walls with my come-“ He mutters.

“Come Ao’nung, please!” I cry as I feel myself being tipped over the edge, his own orgasm chasing after mine. I was always curious about their come, it had a slight blue glow to it, shining very brightly in the night.

“You’re wild, Tìyawn,” He states as he gently pulls out, sweeping his fingers inside to make sure to get all of his come off me.

“Do you think your dad fucks as hard as you do?”

He splashes water in my face and I can’t help but laugh at my own comment and the disapproving look he’d given me.

“I only see you, yawne.” I repeat to him and kiss him.

“I only see you, little one.” He connects our foreheads together and I feel at peace as I hold onto him.

“I want to stay like this forever,” I hum in appreciation as he gently runs one of his hands against my back.

“I know but we need to go back soon. We can’t get caught.”

“Speaking of getting caught, when should we tell Tsireya?” I asked as I remembered the conversation we were having at the beach earlier today and the real reason I’d told him I needed to tell him something.

“Are you sure you want to tell her? She can be a loud mouth.” He stated and I pout a bit.

“She mentioned noticing a change in you this past month but was upset that you haven’t told her anything. She would keep our secret.” I stated as he begins walking out of the water.

“Is it something you are sure about?” He asks and I just look at him in surprise.

“Is it something you want to tell her? She is your best friend.” I add on to earn sympathy points from him.

“I do,” He nods. “But, I worry that my mom will find out,”

“No wait, I care more about you than what my mother thinks, but-“

“I know, she’s still scary,” I smile up toward him to let him know I wasn’t offended by his words. His feet had finally touched the sand and I try wriggling off of him.

“Lets stay like this until we get back.”

“You’re naked right now. Nobody else can see you like this.” I narrowed my eyes at him and he just smiles, planting a kiss on my mouth.

“Weren’t you the one who said there was no need to get jealous?”

“I will cut your dick off.”

“You’d wrap those pretty lips around it before you cut it off, little one,”

“Stooop!” I blushed at his words.

_________

“Oh, Hey! Where have you been?” Tsireya had turned right after I tapped her arm gently to gain her attention since she’d been dancing with a group of friends. These girls were friends from her childhood and were known to be gossipers but appeared to have drank a little much at the same time given their sways. I was just thankful we were closer toward the edge of the crowd and not near the singers where it was hard to hold a conversation.

“Could I introduce you to someone?” I’d asked her in a hushed voice. I wanted to be careful with how I’d stated anything around her friends since I had no intention of allowing them to overhear our conversation. I also didn’t want to risk them hearing anything and getting the wrong idea, or allowing their liquid courage to give them any reason to follow us, I just wanted to tell Tsireya, nobody else.

After getting out of the water we’d sat back in the clearing to dry off but her hair seemed to be drying at a slower pace than normal, probably due to no sun or heat being available, and my mind had shifted toward what she had said at the cave where tawtute were sensitive to temperatures. I’d asked her if she wanted a blanket to wrap herself around but she’d refused until I told her I would find Tsireya and bring her over where I felt her shivering and decided to grab a blanket from our marui, bringing it over so she could warm up while I left her to find my sister.

My sisters face goes blank before being switched over toward a new emotion that settles on her face that she fails to hide but she nods either way. She’d turned toward her friends saying I had shown up to escort her home since she had to start early tomorrow morning. It was a wonderful excuse in order for her to part from them, but that meant our trek over toward the clearing would have to take a little longer getting there.

We’d walked in silence toward the marui’s before making sure her friends could not see us anymore to give them the impression that we’d gone home. She pauses behind a random marui but I’m thankful she signs since it is uncertain if anybody else was at home or not.

Where is she? Her giddy smile and the excitement glowing in her eyes were a testament to how she felt at the moment.

She’s in the clearing, we’ll have to walk for a bit. I signed back and turned around to start walking over, and I’m certain she was following behind.

It was just now that I could feel my heart pounding in my chest with each step we took, getting closer to the clearing had my stomach tumbling too, my airway felt constricted and my mouth was dry. I decided to take a deep breath to try to calm myself and slowly exhaled.

“I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone. You can’t tell your friends at all, you can’t even tell Lo’ak, we’re trying to hide it from mom.” I admitted as we continued walking, we were a littlw ways out from the clearing and all I could think was if this was a good idea or not.

“If that is what you wish I will not tell a soul, but are you certain you want me to meet her?” The lightest touch on my arm caught my attention and I turned, noticing she’d stopped.

No matter how bad she’d wanted to know a secret anyone was hiding, she always made sure to keep her nose out of it, she would always wait for someone to approach her and never shared that secret with anyone else, always keeping it. When we were smaller, our mother forbid me to go hunting with the bigger kids because she knew I’d get hurt, let’s just say I didn’t listen to her and definitely got hurt. Tsireya had walked in on my arm bleeding from a cut I got from coral - since I tried wooing the people I was with- as I searched the salves my mother kept in a box. She’d taken the paste away from my hand and grabbed another one that looked completely different and handed it to me, putting the other one in its place.

She even took the time to place the smallest bits of seaweed on it to help the paste stay in the cut. She’d spent the entire day standing next to me to cover her work so our mother wouldn’t yell at me. She refused to leave my side when her friends called and when our mother asked us why she was stuck on my side she said it was because she loved me.

“I can turn back if you want, no matter how bad I want to know who she is, I can wait.” She adds again and doesn’t even bother trying to sneak a peek around me.

“You’re my best friend, there is nobody else I’d want to introduce her to.” I reassure her and turn to walk again. We were nearing the clearing and I could catch a hint of her wrapped in my blanket.

“Just promise you won’t tell a soul, not even Eywa,” I whispered and she pokes my back for fun.

“Eywa knows all.” She jokes as she whispers back and we are finally here.

“Little one,” I called out to her and she turns her head to face me, her back stiffened as she stands even straighter, Tsireya remained behind me and hadn’t stepped out.

“I brought my sister.” I motion for her to come closer and she does, her footsteps being soft and calculated, she also seemed nervous.

“You ready, ‘Reya?” I asked as I tilted my head back so she could see me, she gives me a nod, and her eyes widened as I stepped out of her way, falling upon the tawtute in a shocked manner. She turns to look between myself and Y/n before uttering her first word.

“Ahh,” It was as if she’d had a sudden moment of clarity as her eyes settled back on Y/n. I could tell ma’tìyawn was letting the doubt fill in, her eyes were knitted upward as she stared up at my sister.

“Hi sweets,” She spoke nervously.

“This actually makes sense.” Tsireya states as if she were in a trance.

“You came back home hours after the storm had stopped, why ai couldn’t find her a little after you’d disappeared, why you’re nicer!” She poked my arm excitedly.

“You are courting my favorite tawtute!” She yells happily and I’m only thankful to Eywa for a celebration happening at this moment, if not I was sure everyone in the clan had heard her.

She had turned and ran up toward my tawtute, picking her up and squealing happily, I could feel my heart slowing down and my stomach settling, a cool feeling overtaking my once erratic nerves as I see the two embracing, a smile settles on my features as the two most important women in my life were embracing each other.

“I was so scared to tell you!” Y/n stated as she too seemed to be at ease.

“I should have pieced it together, but this is a good thing! You’re making him much less grumpy! Only the sweetest of souls could do that, and I should have known it was you!” Tsireya settles her down again as she sits down, crossing her legs.

“Tell me, is he hitting it right?” Tsireya asks and Y/n blushes.

“Who taught you that!” Y/n asks as Tsireya giggles.

“The person whose currently hitting this-“ She points at herself.

“Ugh, gross, Tsireya, don’t taint my tawtute.” I roll my eyes at the conversation being had in front of me.

“I knew you guys were boning,” Y/n comments back with a smile of her own.

“Yawne, thats gross,”

“Awe! Yawne?” Tsireya asks with the widest smile.

“I shouldn’t have let you two meet.” I sigh and place my hand over my face while shaking my head in disappointment.

“I thought you’d hate me for keeping this secret.”

“No no, you have every right to, have you told anyone else?”

“We haven’t told anyone else but we want to eventually, we’re taking small steps.” I speak up and Tsireya nods.

“Come sit,” Y/n pats the grass beside her, I walk over and sit where she’d pointed to and grab her, sitting her on my lap, my arms wrapped around her blanketed form. Tsireya cooing at how cute she thought this whole thing was, it made me blush for sure, I could only imagine my tawtute’s face at the comments. We’d enjoyed each others company throughout the rest of the night.

Walking back toward the back end of the Marui’s we reach the walkways where Y/n stops, turning to face me and taking the blanket off of herself, handing it over to me. I take it and shamelessly smell it, smiling at the change in smell, what once smelled like me now has a hint of her in it. I squat on my toes to kiss her and she wraps her arms around my neck.

“I’ll miss you tonight.” I kiss her forehead.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow,” She lets out a light laugh and I kiss her again.

“You do know your sister is still watching, hmm?” She asks and I kiss her once more.

“Thats her problem.” She takes her arms away from my neck and steps back.

I’ll miss you tonight. She signs with a bright blush on her face and I could only imagine my sister was looking at her, I was correct since I heard the slightest of Awe’s from behind me.

I’ll miss you more I signed back at her and she waves before turning to walk toward the Sully marui.

_________

*this whole conversation is in English until you wake up in the morning, ok? I’d rather make a note here than using strike through on all of the text*

“And where do you think you’ve been?”

I’d long since frozen upon seeing his tall build standing near the walkway, nowhere close to where the entrance of our marui was, just far enough away from being heard from anyone inside it. I could have turned back and walked from where I came but I was sure he’d follow regardless, and I knew Ao’nung and Tsireya weren’t out of sight yet.

“Enjoying the nice fresh air, whats wrong with you?” I asked him, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

“No, because I saw you walk toward the woods earlier, but didn’t see anyone else. I can only assume whoever you went to meet had already gone ahead of you.”

I kept my face as neutral as possible, trying to think of a way out of this situation, but my mind was drawing blanks. If he saw me going into the woods then I’d have to find a way to lie about why I was there.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “But the tree’s remind me of being in the forest. It helps bring my mind at ease during social situations where I feel like I’m suffocating-“

“You really can’t lie your way out of this, lets try that again.”

“I swear, for being born two minutes later you’re the biggest pain in my ass.”

“I may be younger but I’m wiser-“

“No you aren’t, skxawng.”

“You’ve got an answer for me or do I need to find it out myself and follow you around the entire island?”

“With your clear threat, I can only imagine you have a vague idea of why I’m out here.”

“Not really but you buried yourself into a hole with that comment.”

“Spider-“ I stated angrily and pause to try to calm myself down.

“You never hide anything from me, Y/n, I’ve given it some time but I’m worried about you. You disappear several times a day and reappear even more tired. Is someone making you do something, or are you sick and you’re afraid to tell us?”

“Who is all home right now?” I asked aloud and Spider sighs.

“Jake, Neytiri, and Tuk. She got tired and they came back home. Lo’ak and Kiri were staying a bit longer but they should be coming home soon.”

“Give me until tomorrow afternoon and I can answer that question for sure.”

“Y/n-“ He stated immediately before I held my hand up to stop him from continuing.

“I am not being threatened to doing anything, I can assure you I’m fine, I just need to think about it, okay?”

He nods warily as I sigh.

“Just until tomorrow.” He agrees. Spider knew my body language well enough to understand when I’d been lying, but to also tell if I was okay, which I assume he got the hint and thats why he agreed.

“I’m tired, we should go sleep.” I suggested to move this along and he nods, walking over toward the entrance of the marui, and pushing aside the curtain covering the entrance.

Falling asleep had proven to be harsh as I continued tossing to find a comfortable position and no longer finding it comforting after getting settled, leaving me to turn once more and the cycle continued for a while. Jake and Neytiri had already put Tuk in bed and had stayed up until Lo’ak and Kiri came in.

We all talked in hushed voices about how special their ceremony was and how many people they talked to. It didn’t take long for them to have fallen asleep as they were probably tired and I was left to fend for myself. I’d had just about enough of not getting comfortable and stepped out of the marui, surprised that I’d managed to struggle all night since the daylight was starting to creep up onto the water.

I carefully and quietly walked over toward the beach and sat with my back against a tree. Staring out into the water and taking a second to enjoy the tranquility of the gentle waves rolling about, wetting the sand of the shoreline.

“You’re up early,”

“We need to talk.” I stated curtly before turning to make direct eye contact with him, his face had a slight smile but I could tell it had fallen at my tone.

“Whats wrong?” He asked as he squats near me.

I let out a sigh before telling him what had happened right after he dropped me off. I didn’t forget to mention that I’d told my brother I’d give him some kind of answer in the afternoon and Ao’nung smiled weakly toward me.

“What?” I asked.

“We might need to come clean to the whole group.” He suggests and I’m sure the look on my face showed how scared I was.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter what anyone says, I won’t leave you, little one.”

“Thats not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” He asks and looks like he’s about to grab onto my arm comfortingly before I see another teal body coming up and my instant reaction is to shake my head at the action, his arm was only slightly outstretched and I am thankful to all of my senses at that moment

“What are you doing?”

Both our heads snap back up toward the woman standing beside us, her own eyes narrowed as she looks directly at me, then sliding back to her son waiting for his response. I should have known she wouldn’t be talking to me and I’m sure if she were she’d believe I was lying.

“Just asking if we were still meeting up later.” He lies through his teeth and I felt a sense of pride run through me. His mother shifts her gaze at me as if to ask ‘alone?’ I couldn’t help but continue staring at her.

“Tsireya told Kiri to convince Y/n to come,” He adds to let her know we weren’t meeting alone and she turns to look at her son and nods as of she were still processing what he’d said. I turn to look at him as his gaze shifts toward mine and he seems panicked. I raised my brow and look at the sand again, essentially telling him to calm down.

“Very well.” She stated and holds an outstretched hand for him to go toward her. “Excuse us, Y/n,” she bows her head lightly and it shocks me at the respect she had just given me, but I have to remind myself its to keep up appearances.

I’d taken it upon myself to head back to the marui to wake everyone up and get started on our day considering we were slightly busy. The quicker we finished our share of work the more time we could spend together and the best opportunity to tell them while everyone else- including Ao’nungs mother- would continue being busy with their works.

_________

“Where have you been?” Tsireya asks as if to scold me for being the only one to have joined the group late.

“I had to throw our mother off my scent. She already caught us this morning.” I explained and her ears flicker upward.

“Technically I have, like, thirty seconds left before I can tell you-“ I can hear my tawtute speaking as her brother looks angrily toward her. Out of habit, I froze and pretended my attention was elsewhere, completely forgetting for a bit why we were all gathered here.

“Thats bullshit Y/n, tell me what stupid thing you’re hiding.”

“I told you I would let you know if I decided to tell you, not that I would for sure tell you!” She yells back at him.

“Well its already been thirty seconds.” Spider crosses his arms and stares at his tsmuke awaiting an answer.

“It’s been fifteen-“ She sticks her tongue out at him.

“It’s been thirty seconds, Yawne.” I agree with her brother aloud and Spider completely misses the point of what I’d said as he shouts a victory toward Y/n.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” She stated calmly toward me.

Kiri had stood with her mouth agape as Spider just raised a brow at his sister- still missing how we were acting toward each other. Rotxo had his mouth open while forming a shocked smile, looking between us and Kiri. Lo’ak seemed to have just caught on to what was said as his brows furrow.

“Wait a minute- Yawne?” Spider finally catches on and looks between us in shock and I felt like now would have been a perfect time for Kiri to laugh, but I’m assuming it came as too much of a shock for everyone.

“No way-“ Spider states shocked.

“Oh my Eywa,” Kiri places her hands over her mouth but fails to hide her excitement as she lets out a small squeal.

“I should have known someone tamed the beast,” Rotxo comments with a smirk as he shakes his head in surprise.

“Are you serious?”

All heads turned toward the forest boy who’d uttered those words. It definitely didn’t sound like he had been too happy to find out, but he wasn’t yelling about it either, his voice definitely held a calm tone to it, but it was impossible to ignore the harshness that came with it.

“Lo’ak,” Tsireya begins as his eyes go over toward hers.

“You knew?” He asks in disbelief and her ears flicker down a bit, her face changing to show her apology.

“She only found out yesterday, Lo.” Y/n states upon seeing my sisters immediate change in mood.

“You mean to tell me you told Tsireya before telling anyone else?” He asks a little louder this time.

“Maybe now you can see why we decided to tell her?” She sasses back at Lo’ak.

“Look, Y/n,” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales. “Theres no way you can be with this-“ He points toward me and stops talking.

“You loved my brother.” He stated firmly.

“Yes, I do love Neteyam. But I love Ao’nung too.”

“No you don’t.” He stated just as quick. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

“You love me?” I asked in shock.

“Not now,” She states at me while holding her hand up to acknowledge me but continuing to stare at Lo’ak. “You cannot tell me what I feel. Or are you suddenly becoming your dad and think you know whats best for me?” She asks in anger.

“Guys, we should take a second to cool down.” Kiri breaks their angered animosity toward them and both Lo’ak and Y/n’s faces soften.

“I just-“ Lo’ak states as a sudden realization hits him and he sighs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, especially since you’ve been hurt before when you didn’t even get to say goodbye. And especially with him.” Lo’ak looks toward me but I can understand why.

“Lo,” Y/n stated softly as she walks toward him and hugs him, knowing how close they were and their kind of relationship I had no reason to be jealous, but wondered if he would hurt her due to his anger from before.

“You’re my tsmukan. And I loved your tsmukan. But moving on is part of the healing.” She stated and he wraps his arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes.

“He is good to me, I promise.”

“Sometimes it feels like Lo’ak is a better brother than I am, should I have reacted that way-“ Spider started before letting a loud oof escape his lips, nobody spared him a glance as it was obvious Kiri had smacked him upside the head.

“You break her heart, and I’ll break your face with my fists.” Lo’ak threatens as Y/n giggles.

“I am aware of my actions from the past and have also asked for an apology from all of you. I do not plan to break that trust nor break your tsmuke’s heart. I would also like to point out I was not expecting to be hit in the face that time.” I stated and could hear my tawtute giggling.

“Don’t feel sorry for yourself now Tìyawn,” I can feel her little fingers on my face as I’d failed to hear her come up to me for the first time. She’d stood on a rock behind me to reach me and I’d taken her by the waist to slide her off the rock and holding her close onto myself.

“He hit me many times-“ I pouted and she started laughing.

“Yes, I praised him when I heard the story,”

“Hey!”

“Hey.” She pecks my lips and a chorus of eww’s are heard from our friend group.

“Not like you all don’t kiss each other anyway-“ She sticks her tongue out at them and its my turn to join in on the laughter.

“Are you planning on telling sa’nok and sempul too?” Lo’ak asks and Y/n’s face falls slightly again.

“We’re trying to keep that from happening. Ronal is definitely the last person that needs to know and if we told your parents I’m sure they’d tell her next. And I don’t want to face Neytiri’s wrath from another native woman again.” She shivers and I can tell its a sore subject for her.

“She’ll find out eventually, but it’ll be too late by then, Tìyawn. And I’m not letting you go either, yeah?”

“Yeah,” She agrees as I set her down.

#avatar smut #avatar #avatar the way of water smut #afab reader #human reader #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x reader smut

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undertheopensky · 3 months ago

Text

Heart And Soul Asunder: Whumptober 2023 Director's Cuts

A collection of fun facts, director’s comments, and deleted scenes.

Day 1

Fun fact! Most sign languages incorporate a completely separate grammar system to their ‘spoken’ forms (English to BSL, ASL and Auslan, for example). For fluency purposes, I (and most other people for that matter) write the signed text as ‘English translations’, just like you would any other foreign language.

The alternative, ‘glossing’, is writing the words as they are signed, and is generally considered a poor written representation of sign language because it ‘reads’ as very simplistic, without the associated body language, facial expression, gestures, and emotional indicators that are purely visual.

Italics is in fact not the preferred method for indicating signing in prose, as the Deaf community rightly regards it as just speaking and needs no other punctuation than “”. However I’m still trying to figure out a visual and storytelling balance when non-Deaf individuals are switching back and forth between speaking methods.

Day 2

Fun fact! Every line of Sky’s ‘dreaming’ dialogue is shit I have said in my sleep, to the general horror and consternation of my sister. She was mildly displeased to be asked for ‘the creepiest things you’ve ever heard me say while unconscious’.

Sky’s inaudible blood comment would have been either “It’s said that only those plants that are fed on blood will bloom red” or “Under the blood, what do you have left?”

Day 3

This one wanted to be much longer, but didn’t have any material to fill it, and I didn’t have time to let things grow organically. I feel like the pacing suffered for that.

Day 4

Fun fact! I had over 1000 words of ‘scrap’ material by the time I was done with this fill.

I’ve had difficult works before, but this one took it to a whole new level. It got to the point where I was writing individual sentences as their own separate entities and then frankensteining them together with joining words or sentences or pieces of another pre-written sentence. I was deeply impressed it turned out as coherent as it did.

Day 5

Due to deadlines and me attempting to keep a handle on my plot pacing, this one had several minor plot points cut from the original. I was very disappointed but also it was long enough as it was…

Here’s an excerpt from the most complete of those cuts.

Blue wakes to pain searing through his torso. He tries to jolt upright; can’t, the cord of pain through his ribs binding him in an agonised hunch. He’s winded, he recognises – Blue scrabbles away – The man lunges – Then trips and falls seemingly through the floor. Blue can’t get up immediately. Pain still lashes through him with every gasping breath. He knows straightening out will help. Can’t make himself do it, not with a red ribbon of agony tying his lungs to something in his core. Instead he curls in a little more and uses his feet to shuffle away from the spot the guy had vanished. He’d thought he’d seen – a flash, except the opposite; a sudden moment of night-sky darkness – but now the grass just looks… normal. Slowly springing up again after his weight had squished it down, a few broken blades sticking up at awkward angles. Blue’s tempted to poke it with his stick. He refrains – he doesn’t want to lose his best tool, if whatever ate the guy decided wood is tasty too – and after marking the closest tree, he limps towards the river. He’s never touching that patch of grass again.

Day 6

*buries face in hands*

Feel like I owe everyone an apology for this one – there was so much screaming in my inbox. And it’s still trying to develop itself into a long, involved torture fic. I had a whole fucking outline written before realising it was way too long and involved for a daily prompt, and mercilessly cut it back. But the outline exists… and could be used…

*head on desk*

Day 7

The reason Warriors was so grumpy was that he’d already taken a keese to the face from an earlier vire. He thought Legend had seen and was teasing him.

Wind was annoyed with Twilight for chasing Legend off. “He was going to TEACH ME SHIT, you asshole!”

An incomplete alternative scene, scrapped because the Vibes were wrong:

Legend takes time over the next few days to really watch the people around him interacting. Usually he doesn’t bother. People are baffling, and watching them is somewhere between aggravating, confusing, and anxiety-inducing. He has no idea why it’s considered an actual hobby. Everyone keeps him at arms-length. And Legend prefers it that way, he doesn’t like people in his personal space, it just makes him jumpy – but Wild is like that too. Flinchy when people get too close. And Twilight is always reaching out to him, verbally if not physically. [Example conversation.] And when he does move in physically, it’s always at Wild’s pace. Patient, gentle, even when roughhousing. The only time any one of them touches Legend is to shove him, or pinch his ears. And it’s always because Legend had gotten too close to them. The only exception is Hyrule. He comes closer than the others…

A lot of people resonated with this one. I don’t want to say I’m glad I made you all cry, but I AM glad I was able to pull such a strong emotional response from you. I love you guys. <3

Day 8

Fun fact! This was originally supposed to be a one-and-done, except I hit 3000 words and realised I wasn’t even CLOSE to finishing and couldn’t just cut plot points because this one has STRUCTURE, dammit. Fortunately, the one remaining day I had yet to generate an idea for had a perfect prompt for the second half, and all was well. (Except not really.)

This section was part of the first draft, but didn’t suit the Vibe, but I still like it:

“You should keep an eye on the veteran. He’s not dealing half as well as you think he is. And the chosen hero, for that matter. For heroes of legend and lore, you’re not a very well-adjusted bunch.” Legend makes an outraged noise. “Why don’t you do something about it, then?” “And do what?” Four’s dead brother shoots back. “I’m not real. I’m not even close to being real. I may as well have never existed, for all history remembers of me.”

Day 9

“You liar.”

Legend wasn’t talking about what Four was saying – he was calling the smile, and every one that had come before it, a lie.

Day 10

Fun fact! In medieval Europe (which LoZ is loosely set in), multiple births were considered VERY bad omens – adultery, demonic influence, witches’ spells, changelings, etc, to the point that multiples were very often killed or abandoned soon after birth, and sometimes their parents were, too. Combining this with the fact that several Links have dealt with evil clones of themselves was obviously going to be hilarious, but I didn’t get to explore it to its fullest potential. Maybe in the followup…

Day 11

Fun fact! Sometimes sprained ankles hurt worse than broken ankles. Ain’t bodies grand?

Day 12

A few snippets from a plot point that didn’t wind up eventuating:

“Things are very scary for you at the moment,” Sky murmurs, “and even though you’re being very brave, it doesn’t make them less scary. It’s okay to be afraid.”

“Because just like you come after me, there are other heroes who come after you. And they know your story. They know that you win.”

Day 13

There was originally going to be a second half of this to go in Day 30: Bridal Carry, but then I had a really good idea for an alternative. There’s more notes for this one but they’re a major spoiler for the second part, so you’ll have to wait for the followup for more info!

Day 14

This just fucking came to me when I first saw the prompt but was in no way suitable for Whumptober:

Four contemplates the lettuce Wild had handed him. It’s a little comical from the outside: the vegetable is larger than his head, as Wars all too gleefully points out. Four doesn’t respond to his teasing. Just rolls the lettuce around in his hands, considering every leafy angle. Then he takes a bite from it as if it were an apple. Wars inhales the mouthful he’d just taken from his waterskin. Wind slaps him on the back, howling with laughter, while Wars splutters and chokes and leaks water from his nose in a very undignified fashion. Hyrule and Sky both watch, fascinated, as Four makes his way through the entire lettuce. “Why,” is all Twilight says. Four can only shrug. “It looked good.”

Day 15

That Yiga member decides that the life choices that led them to stab a frightened (apparent) eight-year-old were bad ones and repents, abandoning the clan and moving to Hateno to help teach children to make up for it. Sometimes they wonder if the child managed to escape, but mostly they try not to think about it, because how could they have made it when the Plateau is laced with spies and they’d injured them so badly?

Now I want to write a followup where the Chain runs into this specific Yiga member and they have a breakdown when they see Four.

Day 16

Fun fact! Before you even begin exercising, there is what’s called an ‘anticipatory rise’ in heart rate, which preps your body to do work! In this fic there is a similar anticipatory rise in magic, which is why Legend has an easier time transforming when he’s expecting it. :)

Day 17

For some reason these guys wanted to act out a Monty Python skit where Tiny!Legend asked every one of them in turn if they were a knight, which for obvious reasons did not pass the vibe test, but some of the excerpts were hilarious:

Tiny!Legend squints at him suspiciously. “You’re not a knight?” “Nope,” says Time breezily. “The armour’s useful, is all.” “Didn’t stop that moblin from running you right through, old man,” says Four. “T’be fair, it was our first experience with black-bloods,” says Twilight, and Tiny!Legend’s eyes go wide as he considers just how much power it would have taken to drive a weapon through steel plate.

“Are you a knight?” “Only technically,” says Sky, appearing very focused on his wood carving. “Where I come from, a knight’s main duties involve catching people who fall off sky islands more than dealing with monsters or politics.”

Wars grimaces. “I couldn’t talk Artemis out of it, okay? It’s supposed to be an honour, but mostly it’s just paperwork.”

“Does it count if I don’t remember it?” asks Wild, completely guileless.

“Fuck that,” says Four, “I told Dad he could go kick rocks. I’m a blacksmith, dammit.”

“I’m a pirate!” Wind says indignantly, and Tiny!Legend relaxes the rest of the way, giggling.

Day 18

You have no idea how bad my brain wanted to make the Minish evil and leading him into a cult-related trap. I had to have a serious debate with myself over clear story beats and Minish physiology as a fae race before it could be laid to rest. Also, it would have screwed up my pacing, because this was supposed to be the last part, dammit!

On further consideration – this concept could make for an amazing angst fic, because it’s set in the Downfall Hyrule – what if the Minish became corrupted as the land did, so that evil deeds were what sustained them instead of gratitude?

The experiment with making the Minish’s communication purely described by Four was partly to show that they use a completely different language to Hylians, and partly to highlight that Four’s not in the clearest mental state right now. I definitely enjoyed everyone freaking out and creating theories around this particular design choice – I’m really happy it came out how it did and that everyone found it a) intelligible and b) distinctive.

This ruined the flow but I liked how it came out:

“You know me?” he says. All Minish know him, they say. There are stories passed down, of the Hero who was helped by the Minish – and who helped them in return, the way so few others did.

A follow-up excerpt:

Four frowns. “I don’t have a concussion.” “Four, half your face is covered in blood and I can see the knot from here. If you don’t have a concussion I will be very surprised.” Spoiler alert! Four has a massive concussion.

Fun fact! If you have a concussion, you are not going to be a reliable judge of whether or not you have a concussion. That’s also why Four can’t hear the Colours; in fact all four of them are there, just muddled together and in too much pain to realise they’re all in control, or even just how much pain they’re in. He got a hell of a whack on the head.

Day 19

This section ruined the flow but was fun to write:

The tight control he kept his temper under – always trying so hard not to respond in anger, to think through his words and actions before making them real. The only time Legend had ever seen him lose it – Wild had taken a stupid, dangerous risk in blowing up part of a mountain, burying half their enemies in a rockslide – but because he hadn’t warned them first, Sky and Wind nearly got caught up in it too. And Four had been furious on their behalf. He’d bellowed about communication and being aware of your teammates the whole time Hyrule was fixing up the bruises and Wind’s broken wrist and not repeated himself once. Wild was not the only one to look at Four with more respect after that.

Day 20

This line was needlessly dramatic so I took it out, but I still like it (plus context):

There’s a rustle of movement as several people start digging through their packs. Sky hadn’t realised – everyone’s gathered around the doorway. Unable to help, unable to look away, as Hyrule fought death itself for Four’s soul, and won.

There are followups coming for this ‘verse, focusing more on the healing. :)

Day 21

The first half of this was entirely whump-free, for reasons unknown to me. Listen man I do not have any control over these guys, I just work here.

Okay that’s slightly a lie, I did consider scrapping it or cutting it back, but it made for a nice counterpart to the actual whump, so I kept it. :)

“What do you even want with us?” he demands, all too aware of the two behind him. Just as trapped, just as helpless. He’s the oldest, here, the veteran hero; it’s up to him to find a way out.

Yeah, Legend completely forgot that Time is the oldest of all of them. Tbf he’s spent the last two-three days being a complete gremlin as well as being tiny, so I think we can forgive Legend the lapse.

Baby!Time shrugs. “We negotiated.”

I do not remember what this line referenced so I had to take it out but I remember it was hilarious.

“Thus proving that Time is in fact the Hero of Time,” says Four dryly, looking at Legend significantly. Legend casts about for something to throw at him while Wars tries to focus on whether or not Time can walk a straight line without puking.

Written by my beta while I was struggling with flow issues. It didn’t make it into the final draft but it made me laugh. Three cheers for my sister Sunshine, folks, who checks my shit for flow and consistency while knowing fuckall about Legend of Zelda and Linked Universe in particular. She never even questioned me over the weird names! I love her so much.

Day 22

This one fought me more than was entirely necessary, and has also decided to exist within a universe known as ‘your body is not a cordial bottle’.

When the Four Swords Links turned back into one Link, all their feelings and experiences went with them – but they don’t spread out as if over four people. Everything is felt exactly as intensely as if it was the original Link having that experience, because it was. So Four has just as strong a reaction to ice and cold as Blue, not one-quarter of a reaction; similarly, they all feel the same grief over Shadow’s death. It’s not diluted out just because there’s four people experiencing it.

(‘Your body is not a cordial bottle’ has medical origins – essentially, taking two drugs with opposing effects is NOT necessarily going to just cancel each other out, stop doing that shit and talk to your doctor! Also, drinking lots of water is not going to dilute the effects unless it’s alcohol, and that’s for a different reason.)

In hindsight, Wild has a very Valleygirl-esque voice in this, and I have no idea why.

An alternative scene, now with added nudity!

A gasp. “Four, your clothes!” A louder gasp. “MY clothes!” There had been no time, no thinking or deliberating. They were left with just the thing they clung to the hardest. For most of them, it seemed, that was their drawers, the last layer of clothing between them and open air. That Sky had refused to let go of the Master Sword, even as all his layers fell away - well, that’s not all that surprising. For Four to abandon his dignity -? And it wasn’t even his weapon. The only thing left on him is the worn leather cord of a necklace. Whatever it is, Four’s got it clutched in one hand like he’s scared to lose it. A pendant, of some kind? Four sees him looking, and instead of embarrassment - instead of covering himself up with a laugh or a wince - he looks afraid. Both hands go to the pendanty and he backs away, breathing hard, until he hits the wall and jolts like he’d forgotten it was there. “Four, it’s okay -” Four cringes away, curled in on himself to hide. Sky automatically reaches for his sailcloth to cover him, and annoyance flashes when he remembers.

Rough, but it amused me. (ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ)

Another alternative scene divergent from the original, cut because it was interfering with flow:

Four’s hand tightens. Hot blood starts to seep into the spaces between his fingers, something sharp like panic coiling around his heart. “Steady, Four,” says Sky. “Deep breaths. Shit, you’re bleeding again – Wild!” “I’m sorry! I was just curious!” Four wants out of this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go. The air in here is thin and stale. It’s not enough. His skin is hot, a volcano’s breath looming, and his core is so cold it hurts to breathe – “Aaand down you go,” says Sky, firm hands helping him to the sand. Four gasps for air. His ears are ringing again, a high-pitched screech that mostly drowns out the hissed argument happening over his head. He can’t make out the words but he knows what they’re saying, what’s wrong with him and don’t upset him and don’t you know he’s delicate – Four hates it with the depth of a bottomless sea. The words come out so deep a navy they’re almost black. “Just fucking get it over with!” The argument stops. “Four, you don’t have to say anything,” Sky starts. Four shakes his head, hard enough that it nearly dislodges Sky’s hands. “If you’re just going to dance around it, and – and talk behind my back, then – just get it over with!” The shadows in his mind flitter and murmur protest; he ignores them, ignores the chill panic on his skin and the ice in his gut to shove onwards. “Ask, damn you!” “Hey!” Warriors barks, softening his voice when it makes Four flinch, “we are not going to force you to talk about something you’re not comfortable with!” “Like talking about it behind my back and making up your own damn theories is any better,” Four snaps back. “You’re not going to like my answers anyway!” “Okay, okay, we’ll have the conversation, but you need to breathe!”

Four was very determined to have that panic attack…

Can you tell I really loved this fill? I need to write a followup someday.

Day 23

Jumping down an entire flight of stairs LOOKS cool, but there’s a high risk of falling on your face, not to mention the stress it puts on your joints, my knees hurt just thinking about it

Fun fact! I HAVE jumped down an entire flight of stairs before! Except it wasn’t on purpose – I slipped on a patch of ice and fell, but somehow never made contact with the stairs themselves, and landed on my feet at the bottom in a gymnastics crouch, shellshocked but apparently none the worse for wear.

(This was a lie. My left knee has NEVER forgiven me for it. It hurts in cold/wet weather and will dump me on my ass with no warning if I don’t keep up my physio.)

Another fun fact! The Yiga’s base in BotW is BULLSHIT. Who the fuck puts prisoners right at the entrance??? This pissed me off so much I did a rough redesign placing the cell closer to the heart of it. I also made other cosmetic changes in making it more assassin-y. Did you spot any?

Day 24

This one - and to a certain extent the followup - actually had a very specific inspiration! If anyone successfully guesses what it is I will be very impressed, though. It's not the most obvious connection.

Day 25

I TAKE BACK EVERY COMPLAINT I EVER HAD ABOUT MOORHAUNT, THIS FIC WAS HELL TO WRITE.

Because I can’t write in a straight line, I wound up having to scrap what was possibly my favourite exchange of the entire fic. This section is CANON to the continuity it just didn’t make it in somehow!

He says nothing more as they walk away. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Legend says, “Okay, I get why he won’t touch the Master Sword now.” “I’m surprised he can even touch his own sword,” says Wind. “Fuck, the thing killed his brothers, how can he stand it –” “And he would have been right there when it happened,” Warriors murmurs. “You don’t think… it hurt?” Sky thinks of Four – quiet, steady, helpful Four – having his last memory of his siblings being them screaming in pain, and nearly throws up on the spot.

Seriously. This fic was such a pain in my ass. TWICE I wrote myself into a time loop, no one wanted to say the hard stuff, and Vio kept being cryptic and offputting and scaring everyone off.

(Again. Ocarina was supposed to be about 3k max and a single instalment. Instead it’s 14k over two chapters, with at least one followup in the works because Sky felt guilty.)

Day 26

An alternative scene, inspired by this art: https://www.tumblr.com/undertheopensky/731132480379338752

For a minute Time thinks Four has fallen asleep at the table. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s fallen asleep in a position they regretted the next morning, and he’s considering whether to wake him or let him experience the consequences of his actions when a muffled whimper makes him pause. Nightmares. That decides it, then. He lays a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Four?” Four doesn’t jerk with consciousness, just curls in tighter, and Time realises he wasn’t asleep. Just – weeping into his kitchen table at two in the morning. Now he feels awkward. It’s one thing to stir a friend from nightmares; entirely another to offer comfort where it may not be wanted. Four shakes with a muffled sob - but doesn’t shake him off.

Day 27

Unfortunately this exchange didn’t suit the Vibe:

“Do people really fall off Skyloft that much?” “Often enough,” says Sky, too honestly if the way Wind pales is any guide.

This one was originally intended to just be the first half, but then Something got hold of my brain and I remembered how much I love With His Own Wings, and it kind of grew legs from there and I was no longer in control. It was fun, though, and I love the way it turned out!

Day 28

Fun fact! Though this is the followup to Day 24, it was in fact conceptualised and half-written first!

It was a lot of fun describing Shadow’s form here - because he’s not Hylian, he just chooses to sometimes look like one, and he’s actually shadow - which gave me a lot of leeway in what he COULD look like, what forms he could take, and how those forms would actually appear. Conservation of mass says there’s a limits to how large he could make himself; exceeding that would result in a less solid form, and how to describe that? The fluidity of having no internal structure that you had to adhere to; how do you describe such a being when you're used to things having a concrete foundation to work from?

Day 29

Fun fact! This is the only fill with no dialogue!

It’s one of the shortest fills but I really love the concept. I’ve seen a few fics where Four taught Legend some blacksmithing tricks, but I don’t know of any where he took him on as a full apprentice. (IF ANYONE ELSE DOES PLEASE TELL ME, I WOULD READ THE SHIT OUT OF THAT.)

There’s no followup planned for this one, but a summary of the events that follow:

The book becomes one of Legend’s most prized possessions

Ravio eventually talks him into getting it restored by a professional to better protect it

The bookbinder teaches him about how to handle the book so as to preserve it as long as possible

It’s by no means a complete fix, but Legend stops focusing on his depression and turns some of his energy to hunting down other mentions of the previous heroes. Maybe most of them were in other timelines, but - Four. Sky. Time. He knows they lived through his timeline, and maybe there are still traces of them left.

When he explores the Lost Woods with this goal in mind (remembering that Time had said he grew up there), he always winds up at the same old tree stump; gnarled and moss-eaten and rotting. The clearing it sits in is nothing special, not really, but after the fourth time he winds up there without trying, Legend just - sits. Listens to the forest, and feels a strange kind of peace steal over him.

He visits often, after that. Just for the quiet, the feeling of being close to something he doesn’t quite understand. Sometimes the woods gift him things: small flowers or pretty seeds that appear in the belly of the rotted-out trunk, placed by unseen hands. It feels wrong to take without giving back, so Legend starts to leave feathers and coloured stones in return.

Flowers die. Seeds rot. And the single metal scale he finds is rusted almost black.

They’re precious all the same.

Sky is harder, so far back in history even the stories of him have been lost. Almost everything related to him had to have disintegrated by now, lost to the ravages of time. Legend can’t keep himself from looking, though. From exploring old ruins, and investigating their origins; connecting them to old tales and using those threads to find new places to search. There are monsters, there are always monsters, but somehow it doesn’t feel as hopeless as trying to keep the road between Kakariko and Castle Town clear when he knows it’ll be overrun again in a week.

He has a goal.

(And it will be years later that he’s finally rewarded for his diligence. That in checking the newly formed sinkhole he discovers a crack in the cliff rock through which he can see a faint and tarnished gleam.

It’s simple work to chip a hole large enough to fit a hand; a little more to widen it enough to pull out the plain silver box, small enough to fit in his palm.

There’s no story or legend that led him here; there’s no inscription on the box or identifying markings in the cavern he pulled it from.

But he opens the lid to find ruby-red hoops of stone fairly radiating blessed magic, and he knows.)

…this basically turned into a mini-followup didn’t it XD

Day 30

THE ALTERNATIVE THAT OVERTOOK DAY 13’S SECOND HALF.

Fun fact! I am also allergic to feathers! And cats, and horses, and lanolin (and therefore sheep).

I work with all of these animals.

(Look, no one ever said I was smart.)

I had a lot of fun with this one.

Aren is the name of the on-site healer in the on-site academy infirmary, because you can’t have an entire building of hormonal teenagers whacking each other with sticks and NOT have somewhere to fix broken bones in close proximity. I spent twenty minutes on the SkSw wiki to determine that this person didn’t exist in-universe, and two minutes making them up.

The title is an unapologetic multi-level pun. First there’s the obvious - struggling to catch your breath in the middle of an allergic asthma attack. Then there’s Sky catching Legend as he falls. And finally, it evokes the phrase ‘catch your death’, meaning to become suddenly ill from an environmental change. :) I love puns. This made me so happy.

I was originally considering Trust Fall, but it’s so overdone, and didn’t really suit the plot or the vibe, so I was super happy to come up with this as an alternative!

Day 31

Fun fact! This fill was the first one I completed, and the ONLY one I 100% finished before October started. (I wrote it in four hours while supervising undergrads.)

Sometimes, friends can say really mean things to each other, and it’s all in good fun – unless someone’s not speaking the same language as you, and no one even realises.

The Chain isn’t being deliberately mean. They’re just too rough with Legend, thinking he understands they’re playing, while Legend thinks they’re pushing him away. Lots of people picked up in the first instalment that Legend is very autistic-coded; I hope that the continuation felt true to this fact, and was also cathartic!

#whumptober 2023 #skies writes #feel free to ask about followups :)#linked universe #lu fic #lu four #lu sky #lu time #lu wind #lu wild #lu twilight #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu warriors

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your-lovely-rose · 11 months ago

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“They’re cute” (Daki, Mukago & Nakime || Request by @cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme)

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mature

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Romance

➥ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭: Fluff || Hurt/Comfort || Dark fic

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ±9.5k || +12.1k || ±15.8k

𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭: 38 min. || 49 min. || 1h

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: (Ume) Daki // (Lower Rank 4) Mukago // (Biwa Demon) Nakime x Human!Reader

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Kimetsu no Yaiba

⚠ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Minor death (suggested & mentioned), Eating people (mentioned)/dead bodies, Threats, Blood, Severe injuries on the body (not Reader), Misogyny, Desecration of a human corpse, Larvae and flies, Blood, Falling into madness, Mental problems, Muzan's goal (Spoiler for: Episode 34/Chapter 67), Presented the character's past (from "Kimetsu no Yaiba Official Fanbook: Kisatsutai Kenbunroku 2"), Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining || NOT EDITED

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Before each story, I have included words that may cause readers difficulty. I tried to explain them in text, but if after reading something is still unclear then look there. I hope I've done good research and haven't misunderstood anything - if you have more knowledge on the subject, please correct me.

➵ “They’re cute” Part 2/2 (Nakime)

> (Ume) Daki Masterlist

> Mukago Masterlist

➻ Little dictionary:

Yūjo (遊女, lit. "Woman of pleasure") - common prostitutes, they could be found in brothels (hamirase).

Harimise (張見) - a kind of brothel, where sex workers lined up behind bars around 6 p.m. to attract potential customers.

Oiran (花魁, lit. "Leading flower" or "First flower", comes from the Japanese phrase: Oira no tokoro no nēsan (おいらの所の姉さん) which translates into "My elder sister") - is a collective term for the highest-ranking courtesans/prostitutes in Japanese. Unlike yūjo, in addition to their sexual services, they were artists and were expected to provide entertainment. They were highly skilled in the playing koto, shakuhachi, tsuzumi and shamisen (traditional Japanese instruments), igo (traditional Japanese board game), dance and poetry. They also had to learn from an early age classic Japanese, calligraphy, flower arranging (ikebana or kadō) and the tea ceremony (chadō). In addition, clients expected them to be knowledgeable in scholarly matters, and so it was essential that courtesans had the abilities to carry witty and intelligent conversation and write eloquently. Their art and fashions often set trends among the wealthy and, because of this, cultural aspects of oiran traditions continue to be preserved to this day.

Oiran dōchū (花魁道中, おいらん道中) - the impressive procession with which the oiran moved, surrounded by all the entourage and servants from their seirō. Example of oiran dōchū.

Maiko (舞妓) - is a young apprentice geisha in Kyoto. The equivalent of maiko in Tokyo is hangyoku.

Okāsan (お母さん, lit. "Mother") - that's how the courtesans called the owners of the brothels.

Seirō (青楼, "Green Houses") - refers to the yūkaku licensed pleasure quarters - specifically Yoshiwara. The place where they lived. The term seirō originated in Chinese to denote a pavilion in which a nobleman kept a mistress.

Chaya (茶屋, "Tea house") - oiran place to meet clients and work. To call an oiran, the customer must use a tea house as a mediator, but not just only ask the tea house, they had to spend a lot of money there beforehand. They had to prove that they had enough money and power to play with the oiran. Then, they had the right to call for an oiran.

Kanzashi (簪) - are hair ornaments used in traditional Japanese hairstyles. The term kanzashi refers to a wide variety of accessories, including long, rigid hairpins, barrettes, fabric flowers and fabric hair ties. // Hana-kanzashi - are ornaments usually in the shape of flowers worn by maiko. Each month is assigned a different theme.

Kusudama (薬玉) - spherical ornament made of, among others, artificial flowers or paper (e.g. origami method). Sometimes long colored ribbons or threads are attached to it from the bottom. In ancient Japan, a kusudama was a bag filled with scented substances designed to scare away evil spirits and demons, mainly during the annual "Children's Festival" (Tango no Sekku or Ayame no Hi (Iris Festival)) on May 5. Today, this decoration is used during various ceremonies, such as the opening of a new store or restaurant. Sometimes it serves as a gift. Kusudamas is considered a precursor of modular origami.

Futon (布団) - traditional japanese bedding. It consists of a mattress (shiki-buton) and a duvet (kake-buton). Futons after taking out for the night from the wall cabinet (oshiire) are laid on tatami. After they are rolled up and put in the wardrobe in the morning, you gain free space in the room for the day, which can be used for other purposes.

Tatami (畳) - is a type of mat used as a flooring material in traditional Japanese-style rooms. Because of the fact that they aren't cleaned, you cannot step on them with shoes/dirty feet.

Shōji (障子, しょうじ) - is a door, window or room divider used in traditional Japanese architecture, consisting of translucent (or transparent) sheets on a lattice frame. Shōji usually slide, but may occasionally be hung or hinged, especially in more rustic styles.

Kimono (着物, きもの, lit. "thing to wear") - is a traditional Japanese garment. The kimono is a wrapped-front garment with square sleeves and a rectangular body, and is worn left side wrapped over right, unless the wearer is deceased. Oiran wore multiple layers of silk kimono and her outfit sometimes weighed 20-30 kg (44-66 lb).

Genre: Romance || Fluff

Word count and reading time: ±9.5k (38 min.)

⚠ Warnings for this part of the request: Minor death (suggested), Eating people (mentioned), Threats, Misogyny, Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining,

Numerous lantern lights illuminated the streets of Yoshiwara revealing to many people a new face of Tokyo - which, because of their bright red color, was often called the Red Light District.

For some, it might have been associated with big, ripe fruit on the trees or the sunset after a beautiful day, but for you, it was associated with a woman’s red lipstick.

In the air there was a strong smell of various dishes and spices that could make you dizzy, as well as brewed green tea from chaya. The night was filled with the sounds of shamisen played by geisha for their audience in okiya, where all sorts of people gathered to rest with their charms, watching them dance, but you didn’t count among them.

Walking down a street full of harimise - brothels with a view inside through the bars, where a lots of prostitutes yūjo were sitting and urging you to visit them by their beautiful looks - and some shops, your eye hung on the colorful paper windmills and various richly decorated hair ornaments exhibited at the stalls.

Since it was still February you could mostly see the hana-kanzashi depicting plum blossoms for maiko. They were meant to remind us of the imminent arrival of spring and were replaced in March into bright yellow flowers of rapeseed and daffodil, pink peonies and peach flowers, as well as multicolored, delightful butterflies, when their true counterparts bloomed on the trees.

All the ornaments were shimmered from the metals they were made of. From gold and silver for the nobles, and brass for the common people. There were kanzashi with one spool, two; in the shape of combs, and many of them had red-pink petals attached to them. From a distance, they looked so real and fragile.

There were also those with white kusudama balls in different origami patterns giving off a strong, floral scent of perfume. To them below were attached long ribbons and threads blowing freely in the wind.

For a moment, you were wondering if you should buy something for her, but you immediately remembered that you have little more just to meet her.

Besides, she had much nicer ornaments and none of them matched her beauty. She was like a rare flower.

And she’s not a child anymore, she would probably laugh at a cheap toy.

“Are you buying something or..?” asked the fat salesman, looking at you in surprise. He’d never seen anyone who look at a piece of colored paper and a stick with such a dreamful and wide smile on face.

“Um, n-no.”

Getting caught watching toys for too long with embarrassment and a slight blush, you put it back. The man just shook his head with a slight laugh.

“Ah, love!” he said aloud with understanding. “Love… it does strange things to people,” he added after a moment of reflection, turning his back to you and waving his hand, but you didn’t see it because you walked away from his booth in embarrassment.

Love?

Do you love her?

Yes, you enjoyed spending time with her and talking to her, but would you call it love?

At the very thought, your cheeks became warmer and butterflies appeared in your stomach, causing a pleasant tickling in your gut…

After a moment’s reflection, you would admit that you might like her a little more than normal.

But you know you didn’t call it love - or rather, you both wouldn’t admit it. Besides, this relationship would never stand a chance, and it’s not just because of her profession…

When you finally stood in front of the tea house affiliated with Kyogoku House, you checked your clothes to see if they looked good and you smoothed your hair, which was messy by the cool, night wind.

Thinking you looked decent, you walked into the lobby and caught the eye of all the people there. As always, you politely greeted the owner of this place sitting at a low table and two hosts from the aforementioned house, sipping tea together.

You were a little surprised to see them - normally they should be in their house and a lobbygow from the chaya would bring them your request to meet after a short time. Then they would deliver your letter to Warabihime, and she would reply by other messenger boy.

Oiran can’t contact any of their clients directly, nor can they contact her - custom didn’t allow it, so you all had to use lobbygow. It was a long process, but you didn’t regret any moment or a coin spent on it.

Also, you couldn’t meet her whenever you wanted - you had to first ask her permission (in a letter) and wait for her answer. She could always disagree. It was the oiran, who decided if they wanted to take the client, not you or anybody else.

But she’s never said no to you. And the attitude of the hosts to you after a short time from satisfaction turned into concern.

Regardless of that, with a polite smile and a bow, holding a letter asking for a meeting in both hands, you handed it to them.

So far, you’ve been her longest-lived client… and her only one - after a few meetings with you, she started automatically refusing other people who wanted to see her.

The host’s wife, a woman named Omitsu, more than once felt anxious going to the demon’s room to deliver a handful of letters, all of which would soon end up shattered on tatami.

She looked at her with irritation written on her face as if she were a disgusting insect and tilted her head slightly to the right in her characteristic manner.

It never bode well…

- - -

When Daki’s patience ran out, she threatened Omitsu, that the next thing she’d tear apart would be her guts, if she brought more letters not from you.

What happened between the two of you during those meetings? Did you put a spell on her? Or is she the one who has some evil plans for you? The owner of Kyogoku House didn’t know and was becoming more and more disturbed about it.

Not feeling right under constant stress, she ordered one of the newly arrived girls to carry the long-awaited letter from you, and the other to massage her shoulders. Warabihime only made her still worry and added her gray hair.

“I will do it, Okāsan,” offered Hinatsuru, because she was nearby and the other workers were too scared.

With a kind smile on her painted lips, she took the letter and went upstairs to the woman’s room, feeling the grateful gaze of the rest of the girls on her back. She could hear their whispers full of concern and questions like: “Will she be okay?”

She saw that something was up - she had been here for a while and had been keeping a close eye on all the Kyogoku House employees. So far, there’s nothing she could do except to not accidentally alert demon about her.

As she walked slowly through the corridors, she read the sender’s name and memorized it so she could tell Tengen if anything happened - the main Oiran was her most likely target, and it is necessary to gather as much information as possible to fight the enemy.

Who were you? One of the demons? A man helping her keep up appearances? Or did you know nothing about her true nature? Can a demon love? Was she really a demon? Or maybe a hunch confounded her?

But even she felt the terror beating from this room and the creature hiding in it. As she approached, she felt like a prey going to a predator for slaughter.

Even the most beautiful purebred cat won’t deny its nature and stop hunting mice.

She knocked and waited for a moment for an answer. Inside, she saw the beautiful Warabihime sitting by the mirror, whom she had already seen several times strolling down the hallway or looking at her from the balcony - she watched as she went with the whole long retinue of dōchū to the tea house to meet her client.

[Frist Name] [Last Name].

She always walked with her head held high and proud, as if everything around her belonged to her. Probably her position allowed her to do a lot, but in the same way, being an oiran meant limitations. Pretending to be human, too.

For Hinatsuru, one small evidence was enough. Any proof. Just enough not to report to Lord Tengen only her unconfirmed hunches.

She wished, she knew how the work for Suma and Makio was going. Maybe if she had better contact with them, she could figure something out. But if the demon noticed or suspected something, they could easily die.

Without even looking at her, Warabihime asked what she wanted while was correcting a red lipstick applied to her lower lip with her little finger. She looked perfect, just like a porcelain doll or a moon goddess. Pale skin untainted by any scar reflected the light of candles giving her a phenomenal appearance - even in incomplete makeup and without ornaments in the hair no one could deny her beauty.

“Okāsan told me to bring you this.”

Hinatsuru pulled a letter from the purple-white kimono hidden in her sleeve and waved it lightly in the air.

She saw the woman suddenly stop in her activity and focus her gaze in reflection on the rolled paper.

“Put it on the table and leave.”

She tried to pretend not to be very interested, but as soon as the paper door shōji closed behind the new oiran, Daki was next to the letter in a second. The rush of air dropped several layers of kimono, ruining the outfit she had just worn, but she didn’t care. Up close, your scent was even more intense, filling her lungs. It was like an aphrodisiac to her.

“Why are you so excited?” Gyutaro asked, scratching his cheek and standing over his younger sister.

He stared on her with letter in hand with a deep frown on his face, not understanding her. He recognized your handwriting, and while it was clear that you were trying to write nicely, it didn’t hide your unskilled hand and your lack of talent for calligraphy.

He had felt a change in the girl for some time and could see how she reacted to the very mention about [Last Name].

When other women even mentioned your name, she’d instinctively keep an ear out to catch as much of the conversation as possible or she’d stand nearby to listen for a while, although when he asked, she’d always deny it.

He wasn’t sure whether he should be happy she found a new toy or worry more. Ever since she started meeting you, she’s become… softer.

Messy.

Defenceless.

He would even dare to say dreamy. Her thoughts wandered unconsciously all the time and were always focused only on you. You were the culmination of her every thought. What did you do? How did you feel? Have you had a rough day? Are you going to meet her today? Is… is there anyone else?

She was no longer thinking about her previous priorities or gaining strength. It began to irritate him and frustrate him. So much, so that to get away from her thoughts of you, he began to leave her body more often. He couldn’t bear to see your smiling face engraved on her mind like a burn scar.

Daki, unaware of how great his dislike for you was, only turned her head to her brother, looking at him with joy hidden in green irises and a broad, but sincere and kind smile - he asked nothing more.

• • •

Did you know her brother? Yes, although at first he was a passive observer through Daki’s eyes for most of your meetings.

Personally, he thought his sister deserved someone better, 'cause you were really average-looking. He wouldn’t say you were ugly like him or above average beautiful like one person with colorful, rainbow eyes…

But he’d still judge you as a mediocre, who doesn’t stand out in the crowd. You were just average. Ordinary. If he walked past you, it’s very likely he wouldn’t normally noticed or pay attention to you.

That’s why he wasn’t annoyed by your looks, but he was jealous of your talk. You talked freely to his sister and often made her laugh. You’ve probably misled more than one girl with that kind of talk.

The thought provoked an anger that even Daki felt. She silenced him in her thoughts and tried to pretend that everything was all right, but she felt under her skin how her brother’s emotions filled her and how they crawled under her skin like little worms spreading all over her body. His anger was like an unquenchable fire, and he made her feel hot. Soon after, she felt the sweat run down her exposed neck and asked you to open the window.

The cool air from the streets of Yoshiwara was like a deliverance to her, though it didn’t put out the fire inside. She didn’t understand him. Where did this anger suddenly come from in him?

To calm him, she grabbed her hand and squeezed the garment more tightly with the other. That didn’t help. She could barely contain her own trembling and keep a cheerful smile on her face, although she was also beginning to get angry.

But her anger wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at him.

Oh, how much she’d want him to sleep through that meeting with you, like he used to.

Fearing that something would happen to you, she ended the meeting sooner than she wanted and slowly returned to Kyogoku House. People watched her colourful procession of many, both male and female employees from her seirō, but she was the only one who stole everyone’s attention - she was like a diamond. Beautiful flower among weeds and grasses. Although she usually liked the attention she received, today it was unbearably annoying to her.

Her perfectly smooth forehead was flawed by the folds created by her tightly furrowed thin eyebrows.

She tried not to step out of her role and moved with a slow dance step towards her present place of residence, although she could easily get there within seconds even on her black high-soled geta.

After she returned to her seirō and locked in her room, they even quarreled over it all. Very seriously and rough. Although it took place without much damage to the furniture, several other girls said they heard an unknown male voice from her room. Some thought it was just her throat torn from Warabihime’s (no one knew her name except her brother and later you too) screams and it was still her voice, other say that she was insane or possessed by evil spirits.

To avoid do something he might regret later, Gyutaro went outside while the night was still young.

He wandered through side and dark streets killing drunks and couples, looking for some privacy to pick on them and release the accumulated negative emotions, but nothing could improve his mood.

Anger flowed through his veins under his skin, triggering an increasingly strong desire to scratch himself, and he gave in to it (not that he resisted much). He do it so hard that blood started dripping down his forehead and clavicle - he didn’t care about it because he’d regenerate in no time.

Then among the sounds of people walking in the streets, the roar of machines, and the sound of his rough skin torn by his black fingernails, he heard your voice. He looked out of the alley with curiosity and saw you walking in the company of a black-haired man.

You talked to him about something gesticulating vigorously, although the conversation itself didn’t interest him. Seeing your movements and hearing the annoying voice, an idea popped into his head - if you give him reason by which you could make his sister sad, he’ll kill you.

The thought brought a wide, menacing smile to his face, revealing sharp teeth and capable of shivering the body of more than one experienced Demon Slayer.

He knew Daki would be angry, but you were the reason for their argument and his sour mood right now. He felt like with your disappearance, so would his current problems.

The rest of the night he followed you jumping on the rooftops of buildings and listening to what you were talking about - despite his dislike for you, he even laughed a few times at your remarks and comments. He also found out that the man in the brown kimono and tied hair is your close friend Kaito.

• • •

It’s been a few days since he started following you and got to know you better - he already knew how you make a living and what your routine looks like. During the day he hid from the sun in a nearby house (whose owners suddenly disappeared under unexplained circumstances) and waited for dark to fall, when he could again follow you like a watchdog.

He didn’t even notice when all the hatred for you burned out inside him like an old bonfire, leaving nothing but smoking residue.

He was no longer actively looking for faults in you, and followed you more out of habit and curiosity. But he still had mixed feelings for you - maybe not as negative as at first.

Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone (even to himself).

Your friend would show up at your place sometimes with a carriage full of stuff, and sometimes you’d go out with him for drinks at a cheap bar nearby. It was a good opportunity to see what you thought of his sister.

Was she just one of many women for you to play with? Have you been seeing anyone besides her? Did you really respect her? What are you saying about her behind her back?

Thoughts like this popped into his head, but he wasn’t worried about hearing something bad from you about her.

But the words of a drunk are the thoughts of a sober, and with that thought he put his ears to hear you better, when your friend dragged you home. He hasn’t drink to much, because of the experience he’s had with you.

“Ahh, I want to go to Warabihime!” You were whining and trying to get away from your friend. It was a poor attempt, but it was difficult for the demon to judge whether it was alcohol or you were always so weak.

“You’ve been here last time and you don’t have money to meet now. Besides, you have to get permission first,” the black-haired man admonished you, tired of your drunken self.

“No, I wanna now! Let me goooo.”

“If you want to go to prostitutes go to some cheaper yūjo. There are a lot of them in harimise. No one will even know.”

Kaito casually offered knowing the rules of the pleasure district - after all, he used their services not so long time ago.

If oiran chose you as her client after three (very expensive) meetings, during which you tried to convince her that you were worthy of her, you couldn’t use the services of other women. Especially some cheap prostitute or some other oiran - it would be an insult to her, and although you know perfectly well that she would probably never know about it, you couldn’t look her in the face afterwards.

“No, you don’t understand, I can’t. I want to go to Warabihime!”

You still whined like a baby, but no one paid attention. You’ve already moved far away from the Entertainment District. You were surrounded only by low family houses and dark streets lit only by the light of a full moon watching you silently from above. He wasn’t the only one, although the other observer showed more interest, hiding yourself in the shadow.

“Is she really that good?” asked older man without even looking at you and suddenly got hit on the head by you.

The hit wasn’t strong, but it was painful enough that he suddenly let you go and you fell flat to the ground. The scene surprised Gyutaro so much that he stopped breathing, and he might even laugh, if he wasn’t shock of your reaction.

“What was that?!” Kaito asked, screaming in anger.

If it wasn’t for the sake circulating in your veins and spinning in your head, you could see the veins coming out of his forehead and his tightly clenched fists tremble. Your friend hated being insulted. Even as a joke, and now you’re overreacting.

“What was that supposed to be? What’s gotten into you? Are you… A-ah,” he said after a moment understanding and laughed unexpectedly. He didn’t expect that from you. Especially from you.

Yes, he was still angry, but he knew what oiran and other women of her type were like - they said many beautiful words and promised even more just to keep a well-paid client. Their living piggy banks. And you’ve obviously fallen for it more than he thought.

Not long ago he had been dating one, but when the first enchantment had passed he saw how much he had been deceived and trifled. No one has ever humiliated and ridiculed him like that woman had.

To this day, he can still smell her perfume reminiscent of peaches and kept the letters he couldn’t burn. He tried not to get drunk because of you, to walk you home safely, although he would love to do it.

He’d like to keep his mind off the time he was seeing her. To those brightly colored and sunny times with sweet feelings like her lips, and yet… fake.

He would like to forget her unique hair color, looking like the sun and and the deep black of the night at the same time. Throw out a strand of golden curls from her bangs. Forget her loud laugh and her sometimes out of control temperament, which he loved so much. Forget about these light brown eyes, which never looked at him with affection.

Every gesture she made was taught by years of practice, and every sweet word devoid of feeling - she was like an empty porcelain doll, and he found out too late. He always thought she was thinking about someone else, when she was with him.

He learned that she was playing with him by chance, when he heard another drunk man telling about his oiran’s great love for him and showing her letters for proof. Kaito would always recognize the scent of her perfume and her writing style.

However, he hoped it was a mistake and went to Ogimoto House to listen to other women’s gossip. All he had to do was stand by the window and he could have found out everything. The sound of their laughter and mockery directed at him hurt him. Those kind night ladies voices said such bad things about him that he just wanted to curl up and die in shame.

From that day on, he never returned to tea house.

But sometimes he stood near her balcony, when unconsciously his legs led him again towards Ogimoto House, and he would looking with longing and chest pain.

Against his will, he waited for her to see her feisty face with sharp features and small cute nose or silky hair again.

He saw a black crow come to her every now and then, and she’d pick up a letter attached to its leg. She then unfolded the red kimono and hid a piece of paper under it - he could only guess how close it was to her heart and who her lover was…

Sometimes, however, it was she who secretly sent the letter, plunging Kaito even more into dark despair.

Was he angry? Of course, he was. Even mad, but he couldn’t stop loving Makio either.

“All right, it’s fine,” he helped you get up and cleared your clothes. He understood what a wonderful feeling it was to love and be loved, but some of the flowers that grew from the seeds of that love were… poisonous. “Come home and get some sleep.”

Kaito helped you get undressed and put you in a futon. Your grey kimono (not so official, worn only because you didn’t mind destroying or staining it) he cleaned out the sand and dust of the street. The man decided open the window for you, so you could sleep better and the air in the room wouldn’t get stale from your stinking breath.

He was your good friend, but he treated you like you were his younger sibling (although you two were almost the same age). He was also your business partner - he would bring in goods from the far reaches of Japan, and you would sell it on the busy streets.

When Kaito left you had a strange dream - you dreamed that a skinny, grotesque figure stood over you like one of worst nightmares.

His morbidly yellow eyes stared straight at you through a veil of fat, dark green hair, piercing you through like daggers.

Even though you were tucked under a duvet and covered with a blanket to keep you warm, you felt like you were instantly getting cold - probably through an open window (through which the stranger must have entered) illuminating his monstrous face.

He looked like Death or a being closely related to it - did he come for your soul? Maybe he was just a seriously ill homeless man looking for shelter on a cold night?

The stranger was looking at you with a mysterious grin on his face like he wasn’t satisfied with something and was wondering about something at the same time. You felt like a disgusting insect under his judgmental gaze. The man scratched himself on the gray skin on his cheek, causing a rough chill on your back.

Scratch, scratch, scratch echoed across the room when you looked at each other in silence.

For a moment, the thought crossed your drunken mind, that you might be able to fall asleep when your eyelids became too heavy to keep them open, but then the he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“You annoy and irritate me,” his voice was loud in the quiet room like the sound of a bell. “But for some reason I can’t hate you.”

The gray creature leaned over you so that your noses almost touched.

The strands of his bangs tickled your forehead and a piece of loose material hanging around his neck fell on your covered chest. You could smell his bad breath stinking like rotten flesh and blood.

“But if you hurt my sister, I’ll kill you.”

The threatening words sounded like a promise he was determined to keep. Although you had no idea how you’d know his sister.

Still, you picked up something in his voice that made you think he didn’t want to do it. As a trader, you had to be able to read your customers, and that’s why you knew who wanted what, when they were hiding something and when they were honest with you.

That’s why you knew Warabihime was completely honest with you about her behavior, although sometimes she seems to want to show you more than she can. Something keeps her from telling you about her worry, that makes her seem depressed sometimes and she masks it with a gentle smile.

You never asked about that because you didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere and lead to unpleasant situations between you two.

After the man’s words, you were able to sleep. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol circulating in your body or the fear helped you, but when you woke up next day, you almost forgot the night guest. A slight throbbing of your head in the morning and a dry mouth only helped you remember what you were doing early in the evening with Kaito. You remembered the rest when you sat on the futon and saw a huddled figure in the corner of the room.

He squatted with his elbows on his thighs and his fingers touching the floor between his legs. He was so crooked that just looking at him made your back hurt. You didn’t believe he was comfortable like that. You regretted that only piece of his wardrobe was baggy navy trousers and red pieces of fabric loosely tied around his shoulders - seeing his extremely skinny body and morbidly gray-green skin, you had another headache again and you were getting nauseous, which you somehow stopped with a stone face.

The creature looked at you with boredom as if you were an unexpected and even more unwanted guest than the other way around - he didn’t budge or even blink like a grotesque sculpture.

He reminded you of Kaito’s stories of horrible, ugly, stone figures placed on the rooftops of many temples and cathedrals in faraway lands that he’d heard from other people - whether it’s tourists or foreign traders. They called them chimeras or gargoyles, depending on their function.

Was he a product of your mind as a sign to stop drinking?

“Are you finally get up?”

He asked, interrupting the silence and tilting his head slightly in a way familiar to you, but all you could do was nod your head and issue from a clenched throat quietly “Uh”.

You noticed that the window was closed now by wooden shutters and he was sitting under the wall adjacent to it as far away from it as possible.

“Don’t you have work today?”

You swallowed your saliva and nodded your head again. Feeling like an unwanted pest in your own home, you got up and folded the sheets. You put it on the other side of the room (under the window) and moved into the kitchen feeling behind you the watchful gaze of the bulging eyes and the menacing aura of your guest.

You entered the kitchen (the largest room in the house), where you had a low table and a stone stove, but you didn’t use it. An iron kettle for boiling water you set over a small fire. You remember when you dug a hole by yourself and then you covered it with bricks for safety. You liked to use it.

When you looked back, you saw a caricature of a man standing at the entrance to the room, still hidden in the shadows. He watched you from semi closed eyelids with boredom.

Does he have a skin condition? Can the sun hurt him? Is he afraid? Or maybe, like a vampire, you have to invite him?

A distant memory flashed through your head - how, as a little kid, you overheard a conversation among adults about bloodthirsty creatures turning to dust while they were standing in the sunlight. At that time they told you to leave then so as not to scare you, but curiosity was stronger.

Why do you suddenly remember that after all these years?

You shook your head and closed the shutters. To make sure the wind wouldn’t open them, you pulled the metal lock too for safety.

The room was semi-darkness.

Why did you do that?

Just to avoid a worse headache, and he decided to take advantage of it by walking into the kitchen.

Close up, when his position didn’t hide too much from you so you could see how bad he was - appearing rough and sickly skin was marked by numerous black marks, and the abdomen was practically concave. There were also bony hips protruding from behind the his material trousers, and you could describe him as a living skeleton, although he had heavily scratched muscle tissue gathered around his shoulders.

You placed two small clay tea cups on the table (remembering that you still had some medicinal herbs left for a hangover) and caused a mischievous smile on your comrade’s face as if you had done something stupid.

Yet he sat beside you at the table with his legs crossed and watched in silence as you ate a piece of dry meat with buttered bread. You weren’t sure how you were able to swallow when his constant gaze on you made your throat clenched itself. He didn’t even blink.

You paid him back with the same, but you couldn’t stand it for a long time and you started looking into the space above him. When you looked at him, you felt some kind of regret that made you offer him a piece of meat in your hand.

With this you caused him a loud burst of laughter, from which you jumped up in your seat. You amused him so much that he closed his eyelids and covered his mouth full of sharp yellow teeth with one hand, and he started hitting his knee with the other.

You didn’t know what was funny about it, so you just sat in front of him with a disconcerting face and with your hand still out holding a piece of meat pointing at him, but now you felt like an animal who had done a trick.

Gyutaro amused the absurdity of the situation and this irony, as you, a human - practically defenseless against him and unaware of his initial intentions (he still judging you) offer him, the demon, who has killed hundreds of people, a piece of food. If he was hungry, you’d be the first course on his menu.

When he calmed down a little, the broad smile still didn’t come off his face revealing his big teeth and made small wrinkles near his eyes showing how cheerful he was now.

You had a shiver for a moment, but you decided not to show it. If he isn’t a vision of your sleepy mind induced by alcohol, then it was better not to provoke him and didn’t let him know you’re afraid of him.

The stranger, feeling comfortable enough with you, lay down on the floor on his left side and resting his head on his fists, watched your morning routine without moving.

When you went to the other room to pick up some clothes (your house had only three rooms, one of which was a storage room) he just turned his head towards you and again returning to his previous, bored posture.

Even though he wasn’t physically moving, his eyes followed you, tracking your every move.

Then you also had to set up your wooden stall and load the goods on it. Unfortunately, your mare died a few months ago and you had to pull the carriage on wheels to the nearest town. If it weren’t for your expensive encounters with Warabihime, you could probably buy another horse sooner…

Actually, you were planning on taking the day off, but your unexpected visitor made you not want to stay home.

When you came back late in the evening, the only sign of him was the untouched clay cup of cold tea that you put in front of him.

For a moment, you really believed it was just a hallucination, but he came back after a few days.

• • •

You came home again at night after another day’s work in a remote city and he was already waiting for you inside. When you closed the door behind you, cutting yourself off from the sound of crickets in the nearby fields, you heard a quiet, characteristic for him scratch, scratch, scratch carring over a small building. You didn’t have time to escape to the street because he showed up right next to you.

There were several deep wounds on the right side of his face caused by his nervous scratching. Seeing you seemed to upset him even more because his movements got even more intense.

“Ne, ne, where have you been? Why don’t you come to her?”

Completely surprised by his sudden appearance, you took your breath away and all you could do was just stupidly open and close your mouth like a fish pulled out of the water. It was probably the first time, when you didn’t know what to say.

“Daki is impatient. She’s been waiting long enough for you.”

The man said that with a grudge against you. He was mad at you for not trying harder and making his pretty sister angry.

“Who… Who is Daki?”

You only managed to mouthed through a clenched throat as the monster in your kitchen continued to scratch nervously. He paused for a moment, reminding himself that you didn’t know everything yet, so he just said:

“Warabihime.”

Her name made your heart beat a little faster and you started to wonder how much you really know about her? Why did he call her Daki? How much does she have to do with him and who is he?

But before you could ask him anything, he threw you on his shoulder. Afraid he would drop you (or roll over with you), you propped on his bony back, but he had a surprisingly strong grip for someone looking so hungry.

Holding you with one hand, he went out in front of your house, jumped high and landed on the roof of a nearby building. It happened so fast that you only felt a sudden rush of cold air and could see your wooden geta fall down where you were just now.

Surprised and even more frightened, you clung tighter to a man, who seemed to mock your fear. You could have sworn that for a brief moment before he ran on the rooftops toward the bright Yoshiwara District you could see a smile on his face.

The fact that he only held you with one hand didn’t help you calm down at all.

A few minutes later, you were facing your black-haired oiran at Kyogoku House. It was the first time you had been in her seirō - you had always only met in tea house, but you didn’t have a nerve now to look around the room.

She sat in front of you proudly like a princess on a tatami dressed in a beautiful, silk, white kimono with a broad smile on her painted lips and a joy dancing in her bright eyes. She seemed even more radiant with affection, when she saw you.

Unusually, she was dressed more skimpily than usual - when her clothes opened you saw that instead of many other colorful layers of attire she was wearing only pink and black, lace panties and a wide obi of a similar color in a floral pattern tied around her slim belly. Her breasts were covered only by two straps of black material held by the belt, and her long, slender legs were dressed in stockings to match her underwear.

The man who brought you here unceremoniously dropped you off his shoulder on the floor and looked at you as if you were his new problem.

You jumped with your gaze from a figure standing above you to a woman sitting nearby without knowing what to do or why they brought you here.

Finally, the green-skinned man turned on his heel and walked toward the window you just came through, saying:

“I think you two have a little talk to do.”

And he jumped outside. He expected you to be too embarrassed to talk to Daki when he was around (although he was there all the time during your previous meetings, not that you knew about it) and he wanted her to explain this all to you.

You certainly had a ton of questions, and whether you survive afterwards will depend only on you.

Gyutaro crouched over the open window listening attentively to every word. His hand instinctively found its way to his skinny clavicle and began to unconsciously scratch it to relieve the stress.

After a long and, it would seem, difficult conversation for both of you, there was finally a deaf silence. He wondered for a moment if she killed you and if he could come back now. Then you spoke again. You were insecure and nervous - he could tell from your voice, but you surprised him again.

You wanted to try and keep seeing her. Despite knowing they’re both bloodthirsty demons eating your kind.

Gyutaro couldn’t take much time to think about your decision because he saw the black ink sky slowly change to a bright blue and red-orange flashes of the sun appear on the horizon, reminiscent of lanterns hanging in the Entertainment District.

Suddenly interrupting for you two, he went inside and kidnapped you again (despite his sister’s protests) jumping out with you to the street - he didn’t have much time and because you lost your shoes earlier, he couldn’t just leave you there. He knew Daki would be even more upset with him.

- - -

You were at the entrance of your house in just a few minutes. He stopped on the roof and grabbed you tight under the armpits. Your [Hair Color] hair was blowing in every possible direction by the wind and your head was spinning slightly like you were drunk again.

He bowed his head slightly and the orange sky looked like hellish flames behind him. He looked at you from behind his black-green hair, narrowing his menacingly yellow eyes.

“Do you have any idea what will happen if you ever cheat on her?”

Already less intimidated by his appearance, you nodded and said loudly, “You’re going to kill me!” and he slightly tilted his head as if you were irritating his ears.

“At least you’re smart.”

After these words, he let you fall on the gravel road outside your door. You moaned from the pain of a beaten ass, but you didn’t break anything - fortunately the height was too low for that.

Gyutaro watched for a moment as you lay before he disappeared behind the edge of the roof and rushed back to Kyogoku House. You didn’t know why he didn’t stay with you if he’d been there before… unless he was bothered by being with you all day.

Before any of your neighbors could see you, you got up with difficulty and took the geta that had been left on the street. Maybe someday you’ll find another…

You looked over the buildings thinking you’d see a big dark figure running over them, but he was gone, and you still had in your head nervous voice Warabi– … No, it’s Daki.

She told you her real name and what she was. She told you about her older brother and their history. She didn’t plan to hide anything from you from now on and exposed herself to you more than to anyone else.

Many had seen her attractive, firm body hidden under many layers of silk, but no one had yet known her heart.

Could you ignore something like that?

• • •

And you tried to come more often anyway. You couldn’t break your routine, but sometimes she was so impatient that she would even give you money, so you could get there early. Of course, it would have been easier if she intimidated the homeowners, Omitsu and her husband into letting you meet whenever you wanted, but you forbade her.

You could understand eating people, you would be a hypocrite to condemn her for eating the only food she could when you ate beef, veal, chicken and fish, when you were hungry. So that you could live on your own, you ate the flesh of other beings like many other species, and the fact that demons could only eat human was not her fault.

But you couldn’t tolerate, much less accept, terrorizing others so that only for you could meet. You could never accept senseless bloodshed or hurting and scaring others.

Your first face-to-face meeting was two weeks later, and it was the first time you were with all two of them. Gyutaro was ready to go out and hide somewhere not to disturb you, but you stopped him. You didn’t feel embarrassed or disgusted by him, although when you first saw him, he terrified you.

“Huh?” he murmured and his hand raised to scratch his neck. He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and amazement, and Daki felt a pleasant warmth pouring into her interior. So far, only two people have been kind to her brother.

If it wasn’t for her full makeup, you might see her cheeks blushing with delight. She slightly opened her lips in surprise, and her eyes glazed in the light of candles - she looked like a child at the sight of an unexpected, dream gift.

The man looked at his sister to see if she was okay with it and, not seeing any objection, sat down, but still keeping his distance. As time went on, he began to sit closer and closer to you.

You didn’t always just talk - sometimes Daki played koto or shamisen, that already were in the tea house or you played a board game Go.

• • •

Gyutaro finally fully understood why she was so angry when he came back from his long absence smelling like blood and you.

At first she was just angry with him for leaving her alone and even tried to look for him (without success), but when she smelled your strong smell from him she feared the worst. This led to another fight, and this time she didn’t pay attention to the furniture or the appearance of pretending to be a human being.

Frightened Omitsu told all the girls to stay away from her room hearing the sound of broken wood and her screams.

Hinatsuru then became more suspicious of the demon’s identity, but she was unable to send Kasugai crow to Tengen with her suspicions. She had to wait for her, and due to the increased demon activity in the city, she might have been caught. It wouldn’t be hard for a strong demon to kill a bird and then her.

She couldn’t have made a mistake. And she needed a real proof so she wouldn’t accidentally bewray herself by pointing out the wrong person.

• • •

Honestly, you were doing pretty good right now. Your insistence on stil making appearances all the time irritated Daki, who, if she could, would see you every day. Her brother supported you, although on the other hand, he hated saying no to his sister.

However, they both noticed that someone was watching their every move, and not only at Kyogoku House, so they had to continue the farce, at least until they got rid of all the pests.

But back to the present…

After giving the letter of request, the man (the owner of the seirō and Omitsu’s husband, whose name you couldn’t remember) told you that Warabihime was already waiting for you on the floor of the tea house.

Kyogoku House was the residence of oiran, kamuro, shinzou, other workers and owners couples - the women never brought their clients there and specifically went only to the chaya associated with their houses.

Surprised by her impatience, you let him lead you to the room. The little girls (probably kamuro, supporter housekeepers who cleaned and learned the artistic part of oiran work) looked at you with curiosity as always, not knowing how you could want to meet someone as cruel as Warabihime.

Out of politeness, you smiled warmly at them and waved, recognizing a few faces. Behind them, you saw a woman with bright purple eyes, coming out of one of the rooms. Her kimono fit her violet eyes like metal clips grafted into her fantastically arranged long hair. Under her left eye, you saw a tiny beauty mark through the white make-up that adds charm to her.

You thought maybe Daki mentioned about her once or two - she didn’t like her and complained about her a lot. What did she do to her? She never said it, although it was very likely nothing. The demon sometimes acts like a spoiled child around you when she’s completely done pretending.

“So, [Last Name]” the old man began as he stood with you in front of the thin shōji door. “Why are you with Warabihime? What do you like so much about her?”

You answered without hesitation.

“She’s cute.”

And you heard a loud man’s laugh coming out from behind the door. Gyutaro laughed uncontrollably, making the man next to you pale and almost fall over. At the last minute, you grabbed him by the arm and didn’t let him.

He nervously wiped his forehead with a cloth handkerchief and, saying he could handle it now and ran to the frist floor to be as far away from the monster and this cursed room as possible.

When you went inside, you saw the green-skinned demon shaking all over, holding his belly and laughing, covering his mouth with his other hand, trying to be quiet (which he didn’t do very well). His yellow eyes narrowed and took the shape of crescent moon. You thought you saw a tear drops out of one of them.

Daki tried to silence him by standing over him with wrinkled eyebrows, repeating over and over “Shhhh, shhhh,” loudly with her finger pressed against her narrow lips, but it didn’t help. Despite the white foundation all over her face and neck (part of her oiran makeup), you could see her ears turning deep red.

Gyutaro’s amusement also came to you, and after a while you also began to laugh, enjoying the next meeting with the demonic siblings.

As always, you spent a few hours together. Daki was playing shamisen, and you and her brother were playing Go while you were talking. You could have sworn that the whole meeting, the black-haired girl was strangely thoughtful. When you caught her looking at you, she looked away fast and her ears turned red again.

• • •

After all, just as you were leaving, you were suddenly dragged by the shoulder into a dark room. It was one of the new oiran. What did Daki say her name was? Hinatsuru? Maybe a little different.

“Um, yes?”

You asked without knowing what she might want from you. Her eyebrows wrinkled with concern and her lips slightly extended as if she was still hesitating about what she was doing. She kept holding you under your arm, squeezing your clothes tighter.

She had thin and slender fingers, but her grip wasn’t delicate. If you didn’t know, you’d think you were caught by a hard-working young man.

“I–, I need help,” she whispered finally looking into your eyes. She looked desperate. “It’s important and only you can help me.”

“Excuse me?”

There was still a deep horror on her face, worrying you a little bit and making you wonder how you could help her? You had never spoken until now. But despite this, Hinatsuru knew you well - the girls at Kyogoku House talking about you, because you were probably the longest customer of cold Warabihime and now the only one.

She didn’t want to imply anything, but everything suggested that others might be dead, and she didn’t want anything to happen to you. Also, you must have gotten to know the cruel oiran very well by that time and you could help her in her mission.

She now had limited movements and lost contact with the other two women. She tried to send a message to Tengen some time ago by mices, but he still didn’t respond. Maybe the demon found out.

“Please come here tomorrow and meet me. You have to talk to me,” she said as quietly as before.

You were about to ask why, but when you saw the feelings in her eyes... You just nodded. It must have been something important if she insisted, and there was a reason why she couldn’t talk about it now.

Was she afraid of someone?

The first thing that came to your mind was Daki, but she promised you no more terrorizing the inhabitants of her seirō. Maybe you’re thinking too much about her secret and that’s why she’s the one that comes to mind. Maybe it’s not about her at all…

“And take it.”

She handed you a object wrapped in a purple fabric. You couldn’t tell from only the touch what it was, so you hid it smoothly behind your kimono and nodded again.

Now she let you go. And yet you walked out of there with a bad feeling and a heavy burden on your shoulders.

- - -

Hinatsuru breathed a sigh of relief when you said yes. She was hoping to save you. She waited a moment before leaving the room herself and the first thing she saw, was Warabihime’s face contorted in a grimace of anger.

Her head was slightly tilted to the right and she frown to form a wrinkle on her smooth forehead.

“What are you doing?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Suddenly, cold sweat sweated all over the woman and she was covered with goose bumps. Her whole body was screaming, “RUN, FIGHT!” but she couldn’t move a single limb. It was hard even for her to breathe.

“N-nothing.”

The oiran leaned dangerously close, so Hinatsuru could easily smell her delicate sakura perfume and she whispered into her ear.

“So don’t touch what’s not yours, or you’ll lose your hands.”

Daki stepped away from her, threateningly staring her in the eyes for a moment, and left to return to Kyogoku House. She still could her talking as she walked away:

“I heard some girls disappeared from Tokito House recently. Take care of yourself.”

Hinatsuru felt she had to get out of here. She instinctively squeezed a small dose of poison hidden in the sleeve of the kimono she took with her just in case to simulate illness.

Yes, it’s time to bring in Uzui.

➻ Little dictionary:

Zataku (座卓) - is the generic term for this kind of low table.

Onigiri (御握り) - is made of rice formed into a triangular or oval shape, sometimes wrapped in a nori (Japanese name for different species of edible seaweed). This dish is stuffed with, among others, marinated Japanese apricot, roe, shrimp, fish, etc. The stuffing is usually salty to protect the rice from spoilage.

Gyūdon (牛丼, Japanese Beef Rice Bowl) - is one of the most popular and inexpensive fast food dishes in Japan. Its name can be literally translated to beef bowl.

Ikejime (活け締め) - It is a technique of killing fish neutralizing the nervous system of a live animal from bleeding. This ancient practice, of Japanese origin, has the effect of reducing stress and pain in fish. His muscles are not as tight, his flesh holds better, and his taste qualities are better compared to the usual way of strangulation.

Genre: Romance || Hurt/Comfort

Word count and reading time: +12.1k (49 min.)

⚠ Warnings for this part of the request: Minor death, Eating dead body, Severe injuries (not Reader), Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining,

Mukago’s life as a member of Twelve Kizuki was… stressful. She thought if she could join a group of the most powerful demons in the world, it would be easier for her, but it’s just getting harder.

She felt the constant pressure exerted by Muzan, the Upper Ranks looked down on her with superiority and contempt, and she was constantly afraid to maintain her position as the Lower Four.

Rui, Lower Five, was strong and probably if he wasn’t interested in climbing the ranks of Twelve Kizuki he could easily beat her - she could feel it just by standing near him during meetings.

He gave off a dense and suffocating aura showing how many people he had eaten and illustrating how ruthless and insensitive he was.

Apparently, he didn’t spare even the members of his “family”, which Kibutsuji kindly allowed him to create. Its size changed very quickly and often - someone joined, someone left (usually from his white hand in monstrous torments) and a new replacement appeared again.

This made him Muzan’s favorite, and all the Lower Ranks looked at him with jealousy, although he didn’t seem to notice or care about it.

She wouldn’t have beaten him if he challenged her to the Blood Battle - she knew her abilities and the differences between their powers that divide them like a deep chasm.

This didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try to defend herself, she would be foolish to surrender without a fight.

He didn’t need weak and cowardly demons. He wanted nothing from them but boundless devotion and ruthlessness. It’s the only way she could go far as a demon, as Lower One and all the Upper Ranks have shown.

And that’s why she was relieved that the spider boy was indifferent to the rat race in the ranks of Twelve Kizuki. As a result, she could still live.

But even though she had been one of Kizuki for some time, she still didn’t feel like a member of their group. It’s like she totally doesn’t fit there.

The Kibutsuji once said that they all should get rid of their humanity. Their greatest weakness, but just because she was a demon doesn’t mean that she still has no human feelings - she could still laugh, cry and feel gratitude for the kindness showed for her.

That’s why she remembers with pleasure her first encounter with [Last Name], which she tries to hide even from the Kibutsuji, fearing how he might react.

She was wounded and running from the Demon Slayer. She hoped her Lower Rank 4 position would somehow deter him, but he was determined to kill her. Too late she noticed that he was one of the kinoe - hashire she would have sensed from afar long ago.

With dizzying speed she ran through the trees, hearing his footsteps behind her, not at all far behind her. He easily kept up with her.

Every time she heard him pull out his katana with a metallic sound, she tilted her head down or changed direction to avoid the colored blade. Once he managed to cut the tips of her horns. She felt sweat run all over her body and her hair stand on end.

This chase could go on indefinitely unless one coincidence - a cliff that neither she nor he noticed.

With the menacing sound of a katana cutting through the air, she tried to dodge once again and cover her head with her hands, but suddenly she lost ground under her feet.

She didn’t have time to scream when she started falling, with the Demon Slayer next to her.

In the dark she had much better eyesight than humans in the dark, and in the dim moonlight she could see a surprise painted on the boy’s face - he didn’t even understand, what was happening before he hit the stones below them with a crack.

The fall, despite appearances, was quiet - the sound of broken bones was no louder than the sound of breaking a dry branch. Neither of them screamed. The only thing that escaped their mouths was the air collected in their lungs, which came out stifled.

She landed on her abdomen - she felt pain in her bent limbs and collapsed lungs.

Her nerve endings were burning her throughout her body, sending a message to her brain about her numerous critical injuries, and liters of blood spilling from her wounds made her feel cold as if she were lying in the snow. The punctured lungs prevented her from breathing, and the blood flooding them from the inside would probably have drowned her long ago, if she hadn’t been a demon.

Either that, or she’d die of pain because, unfortunately, she fell frist on her feet.

The nameless Demon Slayer fell out of her line of sight, and it cost her too much effort to lift and turn her head to see where he lay.

She didn’t hear his groans or heavy, unsteady breathing indicative of an agonizing state of great pain, so she suspected he fell on his head and split his skull. He died quickly and probably painlessly, unlike her - she was waiting for a long and painful recovery now.

If she faints for a few hours it would be a grace, but her mind stubbornly kept her conscious.

After about thirty minutes (which seemed like an eternity to her), her throat regenerated, and although she was still in pain, she was able to emit squeaks of pain. She sounded pathetic even to her own ears - not like a member of the most powerful demons in the world, but like a mouse tormented by a cat.

Tears continued to flow from her eyes, like endless waterfalls, blurring the view of white flowers from her face. It hurt, everything hurt her so much.

Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching her, and then saw a brighter and brighter light illuminating everything in front of her. Rocks, trees, plants… For a moment she feared it would be a rising of the day, but she didn’t burn after standing in all its glory.

The person, who arrived, stood behind her back and she could only guess who it was - a lost trader in the mountains? Another demon? Or maybe another Demon Slayer?

In her present condition, she couldn’t escape. She was scared, but at the same time she wanted all the pain to end.

Will that be the end of her? Will she find peace? Will she go to hell for her sins? Will she be reborn and get a second chance?

The person stood over them for a moment and heard only the hiss of the fire burning land in the candle that human had brought and its faster breathing.

She saw how the light moving and long shadow on the stones in front of her as the mystery figure covered the flame.

The traveler was afraid. She was sure of it. Mugako didn’t have a sharpened sense of hearing as well as the Upper Moon, but the person’s heart was beating so hard that she could hear it as if she had an ear on their chest.

Despite panic, this heartbeat calmed her down a bit. With a sore throat in a hoarse, quiet voice she said:

“He-help…”

And finally, she began to float away into blissful unconsciousness, listening to the sound of a rapid heartbeat.

• • •

Mukago woke up some time later in an unfamiliar place. She didn’t see the black sky above her or even the surrounding her before mountain landscape, but the wooden ceiling of a small house. She lay on a soft futon tightly covered with numerous blankets to keep her warm.

Where was she? Did she die? This is reincarnation?

Her sense of smell was immediately attacked by the numerous sweet smells, which was mixing with each other and surrounding her from all sides. She couldn’t pick up one that would tell her where she was.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of sliding wooden doors and footsteps. With difficulty she turned her head and saw the figure standing in the dark - she knew from the smell that it was a human. Unfortunately, it was too dark for her to tell more about person from place where she lay. She’d have to get up and get closer, but her head (and all the limbs) seemed to weigh hundreds of kilograms.

The stranger gently put down the wicker baskets on the ground next to the entrance and went to the furnace nearby. As quietly as before, person threw in a few logs of wood and lit a fire.

Are you afraid of her? Is that why you were so careful? But then why would you take her to your home?

In the dim orange light from the stone furnace, she saw better the facial features of her new companion. You didn’t look like a Demon Slayer, and your worried, wrinkled eyebrows didn’t indicate bad intentions. More like regret.

Maybe you regretted your decision and wondered what to do next? What should you do with a dangerous demon under your roof?

Suddenly you noticed she was awake and with a quiet “oh!” you froze motionless. In the warm glow of fire, she saw the surprise that appeared on your face for a second and then how you looked at her with those [color] eyes with an expression she didn’t recognize for now. She hasn’t seen it on anyone’s face too long time to tell immediately what kind of emotion it is.

She knew perfectly well the fear hidden in the stiff faces of her dead victims or the sadness when they begged for mercy in tears. She had seen pain and anger, but this… It was something new.

“Are you still going to sleep? Are you all right?” you asked, confusing her even more.

Why would you ask that and care about her? With every moment she spent with you, she have more and more questions popping into her head, and the uncertainty of your intentions twisting her guts. She didn’t know what to expect from you.

She nodded hesitantly and again there was silence between you for a few minutes.

You turned your gaze away from her looking at a distant point in front of you, focusing on your thoughts, and she felt the atmosphere getting more thicker.

You didn’t look like you were planning on speaking anytime soon, so she decided to do it, but before she spoke she already knew that it wouldn’t be an easy - no sound would pass through her dry, sore throat, and her swollen like a sponge tongue, stuck to her palate.

She swallowed her saliva with difficulty a few times and opened her glued lips with a wet sound attracting your attention again.

“Where–?”

“At my house,” you said quickly and didn’t let her finish. “Don’t bother yourself, lie down. Try to get more sleep.”

She closed her mouth obediently and continued to stare at you with a startled look.

Unable to stand her attentive, unblinking gaze, you turned your head the other way and looked into space. You felt awkward when she did it.

The windows were closed with wooden shutters, so the only source of light in the small hut was the fire from the furnace, and the sound that interrupted the uncomfortable silence was the crackling of wood in the heat and your quiet breaths.

When you entered the house you noticed a change - her breathing was no longer as loud and whistling as at the beginning, when you found her.

Have her lungs already regenerated? If so, how long will it take for her to fully recover?

You tightened your lips in anger and frowned slightly in frustration. What are you gonna do next? What will she do?

How stupid you were…

You chastised yourself in your mind for your recklessness and wondered what you should do now, when the demon was watching you all the time.

She could see perfectly well how your face changed under the influence of emotion - honestly, anyone could read you like an open book, but she hoped you wouldn’t suddenly pull out a nichirin blade from somewhere to kill her.

She wasn’t sure, she would have been able to defend herself from you in this state.

- - -

The night passed for you… without much 'attraction' - you didn’t talk to Mukago anymore and after a few minutes you fell asleep by the stove through its warmth and she didn’t try to wake you up. She focused on regenerating as quickly as possible so she could leave.

But unfortunately, she couldn’t sleep at the same time anymore, so she just lay alone with her thoughts, staring at the ceiling. Hunger squeezed and twisted her guts, the recovering drained a lot of energy from her, and when she looked at you, saliva flowed into her mouth.

You looked so good with that calm face untainted by any worries when you were conscious. Your scent filled her nostrils until she got dizzy - she felt drunk from your scent. You weren’t a marechi, but everything in the cabin smelled like you - the floor, the furniture and even the sheets she was lying in.

The years spent in the wooden walls made the entire house to soak up your scent like a handkerchief thrown into the water, although you probably didn’t smell it - demons have a much more sensitive sense of smell than humans, and her hunger with numerous, severe injuries only made it worse.

You were like an aromatic, fat chicken covered in honey over a fire. With skin flushed from the warmth and slightly shiny from the sweat running down your forehead.

You were definitely well seasoned. Just looking at you, she could imagine the structure of your muscles, feel the distinct iron taste of blood on her tongue spiced with your emotions.

There were many chemical reactions in the human body that were also caused by hormones and enzymes - from what she remembered about butchering meat or fish, when she was still human. Apparently, fear killed the taste of meat by the adrenaline and acids released in muscle tissues during stressful situations, so now you were perfect. Hunters and fishermen tried to kill the animal as quickly and painlessly as possible to prevent it. This killing technique is called ikejime.

You weren’t special, but in her condition, you were everything she could have dreamed of right now.

Normally, she’d sneak up on you while you were asleep and kill you before you could react, but she couldn’t. She still had broken bones (not only in her legs) and too severe internal injuries. All she had left was to wait and suffer in the silence still lured by your scent like a bee to a flower.

You unknowingly tortured her and turned your little house into her own private hell. You were her executioner, even though you didn’t do anything to her.

Her belly murmured low and long for food like a dog waiting for a bone, but it was a sound too muffled by the blanket to wake you up. You didn’t even move in your position.

An unpleasant spasm passed through her bowels like a spear, and the emptiness in her stomach became even more painful. Even more saliva poured into her mouth and flowed down her unnaturally pale cheek to soak into the pillow under her head and into her messy hair.

All she could do now was looking at you with a deep hunger in her eyes.

- - -

Shortly after sunrise you woke up - although the shutter was tightly closed and covered with some material she could tell by the singing of the morning birds.

Your sleepy eyes slowly opened and you stretched your bones with a quiet crack. From being in an awkward position for hours, your back and neck hurt. You grabbed the back of your neck to massage your tense muscles and looked around with tired eyes into a dark room, but you didn’t saw anything - the fire from the furnace has long gone out, leaving behind a delicate smell of smoke.

Moving around in a small room using only your memory, you walked up to the door and a little opened it, letting light in - luckily for your adopted guest, they didn’t face east or west, so it was half-dark.

Now you could see a white horned head with silver hair around her like a halo from beneath your bedding. Her dark eyes stared at you, making you less comfortable with a constant observer.

Honestly, if you forgot her, you’d scream in terror until the nearest village heard you and waking everyone up.

How about you become a new legend about a ghost living in the mountains with a killing voice, hm?

Her eyes followed you wherever you went in a small room - whether you made yourself breakfast or a bento for lunch at work. You pretended you didn’t notice how the unnatural irises moved, tracking your every slightest movement. When you disappeared out of their area, she even struggled to move her whole head towards you.

Was it uncomfortable? Yes. Was that disturbing? Most of all.

And you could have left the door locked and forgotten about her… Or leave her in the mountains till morning to burn.

“I’m going to work, don’t destroy or touch anything,” you said coldly when you changed (hiding behind a curtain made from an old blanket and hung from the ceiling on a beam supporting the roof) clothes and turned to the exit.

You didn’t even look at her knowing she’d still stare at you quietly with those dark eyes.

- - -

To your surprise, when you came home that evening, the demon woman was still lying where you left her.

Demons don’t regenerate faster?

You thought slowly chewing an onigiri ball. A little white rice stuck to your cheeks around your lips, but you didn’t pay much attention to it when you were focused on the lying demon.

“You still can’t move?” you asked her, still standing in the red light of the setting sun.

You had a bag of groceries hanging loosely on your one shoulder and an axe in the other hand. You weren’t stupid enough to walk into a dark room with a predator without any weapons.

But you were stupid enough to let a monster in and fall asleep next to her.

You reprimanded yourself quietly in your mind, frowned at that and clenched the handle of the iron axe tighter.

And then you left her unsupervised.

Were you mad at yourself? Yeah, but you can’t change the time. You could only hope she was really too hurt to get to you.

“Hey, come on, move,” you ordered to her still not going inside.

“I-I can’t…” she said in a slightly hoarse voice. You couldn’t tell if it was because of her bad condition or the long time she hadn’t used it.

So far, her body has taken care of numerous internal injuries and setting her ribs in right place. Maybe if she had eaten in the meantime it would have gone faster, but she was completely alone all day without any food.

Unfortunately, despite healing most of the injuries from her body, she felt weaker because of the amount of energy it consumed from her. Probably even after she’s completely healed, she won’t be able to stand on her feet for a while.

“This better be true,” you threatened, and she could have seen your embrance on the wooden shaft of the tool tighten. She even heard the wood crackling quietly under your hand.

You were ready to attack her at any moment if she suddenly jumped at you, and she was sure you wouldn’t hesitate.

You went inside and put a white wrap from a fabric bag next to her. It emitted a strong odor that attracted her on the one hand and repelled her on the other. Like water in a poisoned lake, a dehydrated animal. Like a Venus flytrap bugs.

“Eat,” you said looking down at her, and the command acted on her like letting the dog off a leash.

She had one big word in her head: “FOOD” - she immediately turning to the bundle with a weak, pale hand ending with sharp claws and she tore the material.

It was meat.

She felt she was about to cry. She didn’t understand your kindness and she had many questions.

Who are you to her, after all? You helped her a lot, but your behavior shows her how much you despise her (or her kind). You still gave her mixed signals that caused her a headache.

If she still goes on like this, she’ll go crazy because of you.

With a trembling hand, she grabbed it and shoved it into her mouth, almost choking. The sudden sweetness that attacked her tongue turned into a bitter and tart taste, making her want to vomit.

She quickly spat out a large piece of meat and began coughing and spitting with effort to rid her mouth of the residue. When she looked up, she saw you looking at her frown in a grim grimace of discontent.

She knew that look, you reminded her… It’s better not to mention his name here. Even quietly, because he’d find out, and he’d be angry to see one of his moons in such a weak state. He would probably consider her unworthy of that rank.

And what would he do next? Would he downgrade her to a lower position? Would he expel her from Twelve Kizuki? Would he kill her?

Those thoughts gave her the creeps.

“What is it? Why can’t you eat?” You asked, and your voice sounded sharp in her ears. She lowered her head. She couldn’t look you in the face for some reason.

“You’re a demon, you eat meat,” you said as if you were stating the obvious, such as that it’s bright during the day and birds fly in the sky.

“I can’t,” she admitted quietly and reluctantly, still trembling. “I can’t eat an animal.”

Are you gonna kill her now? You gonna call a Demon Slayer? Why don’t you just expose her to sunlight?

All she heard was your unhappy sigh above her and saw how you take the bag of the rest of the meat from her. There was still probably kilo in there.

“Well, it’s sad, but it won’t go to waste.”

You turned away from her and sat by the stone oven with the dry twigs from the wicker basket. Moments later, you put a pot on it and started preparing food for yourself.

In the next few minutes, the hut was filled with aromas of spices and the sound of bubbling water for sauce. All your attention was turned to cooking and she could see your calm face again illuminated by a yellow, warm flame.

You looked as if you had forgotten about her presence and all your problems - now there was only you and your little cabin. Your home. The outside world didn’t exist. You probably didn’t even worry about the probable sudden intrusion of some dangerous intruder.

Mukago would like to have such a quiet haven. A place, where she can come and forget everything - about demons and people, the rest of Kizuki and about her Master, fear of whether she’ll survive another day or the slayer she encounters is stronger than she is.

But looking at you, she finally calmed herself - it was nice to see you at work, even when you weren’t doing anything special.

Lying in your futon and covered with a blanket (she could still smell your scent, even though it had begun to faded) watching you cook - this scene was almost family-like. Affectionate. Intimate.

If she were human, the smell would make her drool. Maybe you could eat together.

When you were done, you put your food in a clay dish and sat in the corner not far from the furnace that was still generating heat. Suddenly, as if you remembering something, you looked in her direction without moving.

“Are you going to watch me eat like that?” you asked hesitantly.

Surprised, she forgot she was staring at you so intensely. Slightly ashamed, she looked away and focused on the ceiling this time.

Now the roles were reversed and you were staring at her, slowly eating the steaming gyūdon and wondering what to do next.

You should have gotten rid of her this morning, thrown her in the sunlight. What went into your mind to take her with you? If not now, she’ll kill you the next time. The only thing demons can eat is human flesh, and now you’re sure, and she even confirmed it. She’s hungry, you can’t feed her anything else. The sooner you take care of this, the better it will be.

You thought as you put the dish next to you and turned to the door. The sun has already set.

With resignation, you promised yourself you’d get rid of her in the morning (even though you knew, you wouldn’t keep it as usual).

“How long will it take you to regenerate?”

You suddenly broke the silence. The horned demon looked at you and the fire reflected in her silver irises. The red sclera all around it made her look like she really came out of the depths of hell, but there was something endearing about her - if it weren’t for the unnaturally eyes color and horns, she would have been really lovely human.

“I don’t know.”

She admitted it honestly, because she had nothing else and asked instead what will you do with her, still not looking at you.

“I don’t know,” you said as if you wanted to tease her.

Although the way your body was tensed up and your pulse quickened, she knew you were lying, but there was nothing she could do about it.

- - -

Mukago suddenly felt her blanket lift. She wasn’t sleeping - she just lay there with her eyes closed trying to speed up her recovery by focusing on healing individual fractures and injuries rather than trying everything at once.

With her slightly open eyelids, she saw you squatting next to her, holding the same axe on your shoulder as before, and staring at her belly with squinted eyes.

She quickly raised her hands, trying to shield herself from the blows, squealing like any woman in the face of unexpected danger. Surprised she was awake, you shivered and dropped the covering her material. A deep blush of shame appeared on your cheeks from being caught in the act of disgrace.

“I was just checking to see if you’re recovering well,” you said right away so she wouldn’t have any bad ideas…

And you thought you could change the sheets soon, because lying in stains of dried blood leaking through the bandages didn’t seem too hygienic to you, but you never mentioned it.

You sounded like you needed to explain yourself to her.

And stupid.

When you realized it, your surprised (and definitely guilty) face turned into a grimace again. You made a loud “tsk!” with your tongue and walked away from her.

Before you left, you took a big basket with you, and in the first rays of the sun coming through the door, she saw your ears are still red.

She was alone.

Again.

She felt like the small progress you had made in your unexpected relationship had been reduced to zero, and even as if you had taken a few extra steps backwards. She felt guilty about it because you really seemed nice even though you were hiding under the hood of a rough person all the time. She wished she hadn’t kept her eyes closed or called you.

Although she had spent years as a demon, she had not had many opportunities to meet another person to talk to. Humans quickly ended up as her food, weaker demons fled or died fighting for rank, and Twelve Kizuki treated each other as enemies.

Why did she only now feel how lonely she was? Or maybe it’s by tasting a sweet a little bit of the other person’s company?

Is it gonna be hard for her to get back into her life now after that you’ve just walked into it so unexpectedly?

Will she be able to return to those cold, lonely nights surrounded only by the dead bodies of her enemies who only hated her? Who only wanted to kill her?

You never gave her the feeling that you wanted to hurt her or that you were angry with her. You made ugly faces sometimes, but she saw you were only mad at yourself.

You did it when you said or showed her too much. You pretend you don’t care about her, but she doesn’t think it’s true. You’re a good person.

And maybe you were lonely in those mountains too. In these four wooden walls, where it is futile to look for the smell or traces of any guests.

Will she forget the heat from your furnace? The smell of flowers surrounding your home? The sound of your clamly beating heart or quietly breathing while you sleep?

When will she forget your voice or the color of your eyes? Or all those faces, that even though she didn’t feel comfortable with you at first, she found it funny now.

Did you know that when you get nervous, your left temple pulsates?

Here it was so… Pleasant. Nice. Different.

- - -

“How much more time do you need?” you asked when you came to see her in the afternoon.

She was now able to sit up and hardly felt any pain in her abdomen. The only thing stopping her from leaving was the sunlight and the broken bones in her legs.

“About twelve hours.” However, after a moment of reflection, she added. “Maybe a little more.”

Hearing an answer that satisfied you, you nodded your head and put away the new dry branches and charcoal. The last one you got from a friendly family, and the rest you found on the way home from the city where you work.

Despite living near the woods and mountains, you were neither a hunter nor a lumberjack. This meant, you had to get up early in the morning and drive your carretela the next few kilometers to your workplace, but you liked it. The other employees were always nice and there was always a customer to whom you could please with your goods. An additional plus was the specific place where you live allowing you to experiment with it.

And what were you trading?

“What are you doing?” the girl asked, when she felt a little more confident and saw you pull a little wrap from behind your kimono.

“I’m planting.”

You sprinkled seeds from a small handkerchief into a pot and wrote the name of the plant with charcoal on it, before you pulled out a thin notebook from the book cabinet and starting to write something in it. She thought you wouldn’t want to talk to her, but after a while, you started more talking.

“My boss sometimes gives me different seeds to record the growth of plants under different conditions than in the greenhouse.” You paused for a moment to see if you wrote the name on the other page correctly. “And there are also plants that won’t grow anywhere else, but in the mountains because of this.”

“Are you a gardener?”

“I work in a flower shop, but yes - I’m also a gardener. I even have a nice garden in front of my house thanks to this.”

“Do you know a lot of plants?”

“Oh, yes, boss probably brings them from all over the world.” You said in a tone showing that you don’t consider it a great feat. Like you’d be better off without that knowledge. “He has many shops and contacts with abroad. He’s a businessman and lately he’s trying to make a deal for his services with some old family of pharmacists.”

“Is that why you were there? To study the growth of flowers in the mountains?”

The quiet shuffle of the grey pencil on the paper went silent when you looked at her. She was no longer hiding from your gaze - after all, she was Lower Rank 4.

“Yes, you fell into my Hayachineusuyukiso.” Seeing that the name doesn’t mean anything to her, you added. “Also called Edelweiss or Beautiful Star. A rare, white, mountain flower, not difficult to grow, but it was difficult for me to make suitable soil conditions for it.”

The only thing she answered was “oh” as an understanding of the subject of the plant, and then she added even louder and more confidently “Oh!” when she understood exactly what she had done.

She swooped in (along with the Demon Slayer) and destroyed your hard work to grow these flowers. She didn’t know what you had to do to get this, so she was even more worried. And you were probably doing it for your boss. She was hoping, he wouldn’t fire you for it.

“I’m sorry,” she said with guilt, putting her hands on the sheets covering her. There’s almost nothing left of your scent on it, replaced by her sweat and blood.

“You don’t have to, you can’t fix them with words.”

You lifted your eyes from the pages and saw the demon staring at her clenched hands. The bangs and longer strands of hair fell freely over her face, concealing her like a silver hood, but were still too short to cover her tightly held lips.

Was she clutching them out of hunger or guilt?

Even though the thought occurred in your head, you didn’t consider her a serious threat. She reminded you of a child, which somebody yelled at - sad and ashamed of their actions. Sitting in a corner for punishment and left with her thoughts to calmly reflect on her mistakes. Unwillingly, you added while closing the small notebook with a slam.

“I didn’t need them for anything anymore anyway - I just had to get the flowers to unfurl to confirm a theory.”

When you stood up, she followed you with her eyes, watching you slowly getting to leave, before you stopped for a moment.

You came back and put some similar notebooks in front of her.

“If you’re bored, you can read or draw on blank pages. I’d probably be bored to death with nothing to do here.”

“Are you going back to work?” she asked, hoping you’d stay with her.

“There’s a charcoal-burning family on the other side of the mountains, and I promised Tanjiro-kun I’d come and visit them after I checked on you.”

“Oh, okey.”

Her sad and disappointed tone made you feel like you just kicked a little cat. Before guilt and duty completely took over you, you left planning a meeting with the rest of the Kamado family, picking prettier flowers for a bouquet for Mrs. Kie and her two daughters.

- - -

“Any improvement?” you asked when you finally came back.

Although you left your friends before dark (knowing how treacherous mountain roads can be), you still reached the hut only after the sun had hidden behind the horizon.

The abdominal pain practically disappeared along with the dark blue and purple spots adorning her skin and she could move her toes, but it was still a problem for her to bend her knees. She still can’t walk on her own.

“I need a few more hours.”

“Is there any way to speed this up?”

“I could, but…”

She couldn’t finish a sentence knowing there was no way you’d say yes. She looked down and silver hair again obscured her view.

She heard you sighing and leaving. In the backyard, you threw something on a gravel road that gave off a metallic reverberation and dragged it, destroying a few of the stray little twigs.

Through the entrance to the cottage, she saw you standing in front of a wooden trailer. You harnessed a little brown horse to it and started pulling off the fabric bags and bringing them home, putting them in a corner.

She watched your actions with curiosity until you stopped, stood over her and asked with a neutral expression.

“If I help you, can you make it to the carriage?”

She looked at the vehicle one more time and then nodded at you. You uncovered her body, pulled her out of the futon - there was a large dark stain of clotted blood where she lay, but you’ve seen a significant improvement. You were involuntarily happy about it.

She reached out to you like a baby. You held her under her armpits and then you tried to put her hand across your neck. The last time, when you carried her home unconscious, she was definitely heavier and harder for you to maneuver.

Unlike the first time you met her, she was no longer cold - the gentle warmth of her body made you believe she was truly human, if it weren’t for her appearance.

Relying on you, she came to the carriage and you put her in the trailer. Her legs were still weak and flabby, but the fact that she could walk a few steps with the help was a good sign.

“Where are you taking me?”

She asked, watching you step forward and sit in the coachman’s seat. Holding the leather reins, you swung with it at the animal to make it move.

Not very glad with the night ride, the horse initially resisted, but after a few pulls, he finally moved. His clattering hooves resounded in silence along with his loud hisses, making it even less real.

When was the last time Mukago rode in a carriage? It must have been when she was still human.

Was she afraid? No, even though you didn’t answer her question and you kept your distance almost the whole time. She knew you weren’t bad.

And she knew it would finally come. She couldn’t hope that you would let her live with you - after all, you were natural enemies.

When after a long ride you stopped the horse before the entrance between the two mountains, she knew it was time to say goodbye.

You went around the carriage again to get to her and took her down, before you led her deep into a narrow, stone road and sat her on a big boulder.

“I can’t go any further.”

You said crouching at the height of her eyes. You pointed your finger at the dark behind her and added. “That’s where I found you, with any luck he should still be there, if the wild animals haven’t gotten him first.”

The demon nodded. She still didn’t understand what was inside your head and why you decided to helping her so much, but she was very grateful to you.

She looked at your back for a moment as you walked away from her and when your footsteps silenced in the other sounds of the night, she slowly crawl into the corpse of the Demon Slayer.

She had to make several stops along the way to rest, but she had all night to get there.

Surprisingly, the corpse was still lying where he fell. Flowers were arranged around it, as if someone was trying to make it up for the dead boy’s lack of burial.

As she got closer, she could see that the animals had found their way to him during those three days. His right hand was missing and in the place of his eyes were two black voids staring straight at her. The dried blood on his cheeks now looked like tears. Equally bad must have been the hole in his belly, where something was still moving under the stiff material of his uniform.

Unable to complain, she tried to ignore the horrible smell coming from the rotting body and after a few minutes she could walk normally again.

- - -

You didn’t leave from the entrance to the ravine long before dawn. What told you to stay? Guilt? Duty to a stranger’s girl?

No, it’s a demon. You can’t forget that.

But even your own admonitions didn’t move you. Your horse turned his head restlessly waiting for you to let him to turn back and lie down again in the dry straw in a small barn, but you waited.

For what? Until she finishes eating and comes back for you?

Tired, you rubbed your eyes and struggled with drowsiness. You decided to wait another ten minutes, and if she doesn’t signal that she needs help by then, you’ll leave.

- - -

You were awakened from a shallow sleep by the restlessness of the horse. The animal tromped its hooves and neighing, trying to wake you up and keep you away from the danger in front of you.

When you got up quickly, you grabbed the lantern next to you and lit your way, but you didn’t see anything. Not any demon or a wild animal.

Feeling a sudden movement of air next to you, you looked to the side, but there was nothing too. You could have tell someone was here a moment ago - you still felt the warmth on your shoulder.

Deciding you’d wasted too much time here, you ordered for the horse turn around, still looking back to see what would upset him so much. When you took a closer look, you saw on the road an elongated shape sliding slowly into the nearby bushes.

A snake? Well, at least it wasn’t your still hungry friend…

On the way home, you could have sworn that you felt a constant gaze stuck into you like two daggers. It wasn’t very pleasant, you could feel how its hidden owner buzzing with bad emotions and the desire to murder.

It gave you the creeps all over your body and all you could think about was getting back to a safe house as soon as possible.

Maybe it’s just your wild imagination? Being alone late at night in the dark woods are good food for it.

The only thing you heard that night (apart from the moaning of the wooden wheels of your carriage) was the loud flutter of the wings of some bird flying over your head, but because of the thick branches of the trees you couldn’t even see the starry sky above you. You knew something was there because once you even got hit in the head with a pine cone that broke off under his weight.

- - -

For the next few days you had some peace and quiet - no one fell to your flowers or needed your help.

The only people, who disturbed you were mysterious men in brown suits, who came to ask you for the way to the mountains. They explained that they worked for some organization and one of their members had a terrible accident nearby.

The road to this place was easy from your house, so you pointed them in the right direction.

All you saw was how they looked at each other through the gap in the material attached under their hats in understanding and they left you without a word.

The first time you came to this place, the view was terrible, now it must be a lot of worst especially after you left the corpse for decay, wild animals and brought there the starving demon.

But it’s not your problem anymore, although you could have sworn the birds that accompanied them looked at you like they knew what you’d done.

They looked at you with their black eyes, judging you quietly and with the intelligence you’ve never seen in any animal.

But maybe you were just imagining it? Maybe you’re just too paranoid?

- - -

Mukago thought no one would find out about her weak. That it would remain her little secret.

Oh, how wrong she could have been.

As much as she wanted to stay and be around you, she knew it would be too dangerous for both of you. Just thinking about you, no matter how pleasant, could get her (and not only her) into trouble.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, nothing could escape the attention of the Demon King.

One day he summoned her to Infinite Castle by a woman with biwa.

She was wandering through the forest and all she heard was an unexpected sharp tug of the strings of the instrument, when she suddenly stood in front of the cold face of Kibutsuji. The demon was dressed in white pants and a black suit still remaining in his current role of a good husband and father.

The demon has recently found a new family to serve as a cover for him, so he can hide from the Demon Slayer Corps.

What did he do to achieve this?

She couldn’t be sure, but she expected him to stain his hands again with the blood of an innocent person. People were nothing but food and tools to him, just like the members of Twelve Kizuki.

He stood in front of her, staring at her like she was an uninteresting animal. An insect. A miserable subspecies.

Seeing him, she immediately turned even more pale and fell on her knees before him, lowering her head as low as she could. Her forehead touched the hard, dark wood beneath her and she felt how sweat ran down her temples. Mukago barely holds back the trembling from nervousness.

His forehead was not tainted by any wrinkle created by furrowed brows. The man's posture, though it was and did not seem tense, she still could feel the dread floating in the air.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Muzan asked calmly but harshly, standing over her. As he always did when he gave the order for Twelve Kizuki.

“I–”

She didn’t know what to say. How was she supposed to explain all of this? Or was it about puncture the Demon Lord’s pride, thinking he wouldn’t know? Here, among the demons you could die for lesser offenses.

Or maybe she should already start apologizing and writing her last mental will?

“You had a perfect source of information right under your nose,” he started to speak, and his immaculate image began to break like a broken vessel. With every word, she could hear the anger rising within him. “How could you leave so easily? When others work hard to find even the slightest clue as to where Blue Spider Lily is, you just turn down the chance that fate has given you!”

With his scream, something glass snapped near them, making Mukago squirm even more. She trying to hide inside himself and shaking like a frightened rabbit.

She began to wonder if the next thing that snapped would be her skull.

This time, however, he spared her life. It just ended with an unpleasant reprimand that she won’t forget for long, really long time.

Black-haired woman barely teleported her to the vicinity of the wooded areas of the mountains, she already started instinctively running towards you with tears in her eyes.

Were those tears of fear? Relief from a life saved yet again by luck? Happiness of seeing you one more time?

Or maybe just a rush of cold air caused them?

Her whole body was still trembling and covered with goosebumps, the cloud of shock was just started leaving her mind, her heart was beating fast fueled by adrenaline, but there was also an unusual lightness in her legs, as if she weighed nothing.

Her feet carried her to the door of your hut, lured by the familiar scent of flowers from your garden, dug-up earth and…

You.

Mukago is alive.

For now…

- - -

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” Mukago heard your voice along with approaching footsteps.

She waited for you as usual, sitting on the wooden beam supporting the ceiling, that she had spent so much time staring at during her long convalescence.

She has been coming to see you almost every day since she had the conversation with her Master - sometimes she disappearing for a quick hunt.

She tried to deal with it quickly, but at the same time she chose villages a little further away from your home. She didn’t want to bring here another slayer or, even worse, a Hashira.

That would be too suspicious and it could lead them to you.

What would they do when they found out you were friends with a demon? With the murderer of countless people? One of the Kizuki?

She didn’t even want to think about it…

Another reason was a little selfish, because she didn’t want you to hear about her victims. She didn’t want you to start looking at her like everyone else, like the demon that she is.

But this time when you came back, you weren’t alone - she heard other footsteps too.

From the sounds she might have deduced your comrade was a man. He walked quietly, but confidently. She could hear the clatter of the scabbard on his katana slapping against his hip and belt when he was walking, and his calm breathing.

A hunter?

No, the slayer.

And from his strong aura, she could have infer that he must have been high-ranking. Perhaps, he was even a Kinoe.

Outside the door, she heard a man walk away from you. When you entered the hut, for a moment the orange rays of the sunset fell inside, drawing your long shadow on the ground. You immediately looked up expecting to see your guest there as usual.

And as usual, she was there. With a nice smile and soft eyes waiting for you. Just like a domestic cat.

A large, predatory cat that could easily devour you if she only wanted to. She was now like a wild tiger in her territory.

You no longer saw in her the same fear as before or the pretended confidence.

But tigers are big cats, who also like to lie down sometimes without stress.

She often watched you at work too. You didn’t know exactly why she came back to you or where her interest in plants came from, because she never made it clear before what she was interested in. When you asked her about it, she only said:

“Because I can’t and you know a lot about this.”

You sensed her sincerity at the time, even though you didn’t quite understand what she meant.

Maybe if you knew Muzan Kibutsuji you could understand, but she couldn’t tell you about him.

And her mission wasn’t the only reason why she couldn’t leave…

Sometimes you felt like you were playing a game with her, where you slowly discover more and more about each other.

It was nice talking to someone and not going back to an empty hut where no one was waiting for you, but it brought new problems for you.

You began to get attached to her presence and miss her when she was gone. Wait for her to come back to you, when she suddenly disappeared at night after you fell asleep.

How many times have you woken up in the dark and waited for her appear to the first rays of the sun?

How many more excuses are you gonna need for your eyes bags, when people ask for them? When will you stop worrying others with your absent-minded behavior, often getting lost in your thoughts and falling asleep in a quiet corner at work?

“Demons don’t feel love or empathy, they’re monsters.” Someone told you once, and you took those words to heart. “Bloodthirsty beasts, who only want to quench their hunger.”

But are all demons really evil?

Are there any good demons?

You followed the girl coming down from the wooden beam with your eyes. Even though she smiled at you, you could tell she was nervous.

Is it because of that guy with the katana?

Suddenly, remembering something, you asked her putting away your packages of things you bought in the city on the table next to the fireplace.

“There's been some missing in the area lately… Do you know anything about that?”

Mukago seemed surprised by your question - she turned pale (although you didn’t expect it to be possible) and a smile faded from her face, replaced by the uncertainty you saw in her during your first conversation.

“Um, no. I don't think so. Why?”

It didn’t sound very convincing and all you could do, was take her word for it.

Some time ago a child went missing and was found after two days - he had lost into the woods and fallen into an old, but deep bear pit.

Luckily, the villagers found him safe and healthy (not counting the fear and hunger he must have felt during that time, as well as the numerous abrasions he made, when he tried to climb on the slippery rocks).

Mr. Bear was probably on a trip or was long dead, killed by hunters.

Missing husbands were found drunk in pubs, and and young womens were found with their chosen ones not accepted by their families.

But there were also unsolved disappearances, where no clues have been found to tell what might have happened to the missing.

You didn’t dwell on the subject and unpacked your bag, carefully placing its contents in a locker nearby. These included various spices, rice, bread and meat, in addition to seeds from your boss.

You might have gone a little crazy, because you had an unusual customer, who come to see you in the morning.

A mysterious black-haired man in western clothes entered the flower shop before the sun came up and asked your friend Misaki (who was standing behind the counter) about flowers. He wanted to buy something for his wife and daughter as an apology for spending so much time at work.

When she disappeared into the other side of the store behind one of the larger plants to bring ribbons to tie the flowers stems, you saw him looking around, although you could tell from his eyes that he was bored rather than curious.

His red irises wandered along the shelves with vases and multicolored plants without any reaction - none of them surprised or delighted him, as if he had seen them all more than once.

Well, this place certainly weren’t the only store selling exotic plants, there were more of them in Tokyo for sure. The only difference between you and them is the price - because your boss tried to grow most of them here, the prices were much lower than those in the center of the capital.

You barely managed to keep your eyes open, sitting where you usually sit hidden in a corner on the windowsill.

Monstera deliciosa - an ornamental plant, imported from distant exotic forests, with large leaves in the usual heart shape was the perfect cover for you. From behind its jagged leaves, you could see who was going in and out without fear of being noticed. You liked working here, but didn't always feel like dealing with customers.

Misaki, with her open and warm personality, was the perfect worker for such tasks and kind enough to let you laze in your corner. Unlike you, she was unfamiliar with growing plants and thought you were digging up in mud every day. So with minimal work you could have had extra hours of sleep or read a book, sometimes aloud to pass the time for both of you.

But now she is gone and your slumber was interrupted by an unexpected nice voice.

“Excuse me,” the client said with a polite expression. He had an even nicer, smooth face and a gentle smile. “I’m also looking for something for my mother’s grave. She died just a few days ago.”

Surprised, he’s addressing to you, you just pointed your finger at Spider Lily standing nearby. The slender flowers already had their characteristic upward spindly stamens and corrugated petals, giving them their unique charm. They attracted by their furiously red color that matched his irises.

That color spoke loudly: danger! They made you as anxious as when a man turned his attention to you.

You were disturbed, when he talked about his dead relative like he didn’t care what happened to her and how fast he was right next to you. You didn’t hear any footsteps or the creaking of the wooden floor under his weight.

Even more puzzling was how he could see you hidden behind many large leaves in a dark corner of the store.

You wanted Misaki to come back and take him away from you, but undeterred by your unkindness behavior, the man continued.

“Yes, I thought about it, but she didn’t like red. She associated it with bad luck.”

He spoke, looking at other flowers, but you still somehow felt his gaze on you. It was as if he was trying to keep you within the corner of his eye so you wouldn’t escape him.

You didn’t know what they were associating with for her, but from now on for you, they were with his eyes. Red as fresh blood.

“Is it available in blue?”

You swallowed your saliva with difficulty and nodded insecurely, when his cat’s pupils landed on you again without even turning his head towards you. You weren’t even sure you heard him right - he hypnotized you like a snake.

He finally turned his head to you and closed his eyes gently. It seemed to shine its own light. “Where are they?”

“We don’t have them right now… It’s very hard to grow and maintain them.”

You finally managed to gather inside enough to speak up and come out smoothly from an unconscious lie.

The man’s smiling expression turned to disappointment when he frowned. He pulled out a small leather purse from his pocket and handed it to you. The coins inside clinked pleasantly with every shake.

“Well, if you ever manage to grow them, could you keep them for me?”

At the same time Misaki returned from the warehouse with colored ribbons and decorative paper.

He immediately drew all his attention to her as if he had never spoken to you and composed with her advice one lovely, little bouquet for his wife and one for his daughter.

When he finally left, he didn’t ask for a refund or tell you how to notify him when the job will be done.

You felt like you made a deal with the devil and that it was too late to withdraw.

So you did some more shopping after work. Your boss let you go home earlier seeing your fatigue written on your face (again) and thought you were sick.

By the time you returned home, the sun was already slowly sinking into the west, even though it was still early. The charms of the coming winter.

That’s when you ran into the Demon Slayer. Hashira. You’ve occasionally seen low-ranking slayers in the city passing through or staying to take a break there, but you’ve only seen Hashira twice.

Your first meeting wasn’t the most pleasant, and if you could, you’d erase it from your memory.

It was a few years ago, when you still had no idea of the importance of their uniforms and demons walking among humans as myths inserted between other fairy tales.

But one unlucky night, your… friend was turned into a demon.

Terrified and badly wounded, she escaped from her home where the attack took place, but soon after, she was transformed into these things. Driven probably by hunger and instinct, she ran to you - to the place, where she felt most safe and where she knew, she could get help.

In the middle of the night you suddenly heard a loud sound, waking you from a deep sleep. Rubbing your eyes, you weren’t sure what it was until you heard it again.

It sounded more like the roar of a wounded animal than the weeping of a woman - through the thin walls you could hear her heavy gasp and squeak, when she stood in front of your house.

Why didn’t she attack you right away? Was she out of strength? Did she sense anything else? Something stronger than her?

Or was she fighting with herself?

Are there any good demons?

With the only weapon you had (and it was a metal fire poker) you opened the shōji door. There you saw in the full moonlight your friend lying in a pool of blood, curling in pain.

Without thinking, you ran to help her. Your head was empty, all you could think about was your friend. Wounded.

You didn't even have time to kneel beside her when she suddenly threw herself at you knocking you over onto the mud. You tried to push her away with a metal tool, but it was like a new force came into her.

Her jaw snapped in your face, almost biting your nose off. Saliva dripped from her mouth and chin splashing you, but you barely felt it.

Nor did you feel the strong gust of wind blowing her hair and knocking her head off her neck.

Suddenly she froze and her head hit you before fell to the ground next to you. Still on the poker, you held the rest of her inert body, which became even heavier.

“Oi, move.”

He said in a cold tone as he hid the katana in the cover - the green sheen of its blade blinded you for a second.

"Oi, you can't hear what I'm saying to you!? Get out of here!"

He saw you open and close your mouth before you muttered something, still in shock, looking back at the stagnant corpse in front of you.

“You...ed her... Mur...”

"Hmm?" He asked without hearing what you said. He sounded harsh and cold, like what he did was just killing a worm. "What?"

“A murder! You kill, killed her! Mur–!”

You weren't allowed to finish because a stranger punched you in the jaw and you fell face down again into the dirt beneath you mixed with her blood. Then stranger tugged you by the shoulder, dragging you to stand on your knees to look at him.

The air between you, besides the stench of blood, was filled with the strong smell of smoke and decomposing flesh.

"She wasn't a human anymore," he began unconsciously squeezing you by the shoulder and other hand. He almost broke your arm. You tried to wrestle, but you were too weak. "It's a demon!"

"No! It was–"

"It doesn't matter what or who she was to you before," he interrupted you violently and shook you again.

It made you feel some of the shock go away, allowing you to focus more on the man and the environment. You saw he was covered with numerous ugly scars. He reminded you of the monster the old women of your village warned about.

"Demons don't feel love or empathy, they're monsters. Bloodthirsty beasts who only want to quench their hunger."

When he let you go, you fell back to your knees. In an instant, your safe picture of the world crumbled into a million tiny pieces.

Tears slowly flowed into your eyes, but before they blurred your vision, you saw her body crumbling into dust.

Was that true or nightmare?

With nothing more to do for you, the man left. You didn't even notice, when he walked away from you. He left you alone to mourn your friend.

Although that's what he let you do.

Crying loudly, you didn't know what to do. You tried to lift her head, but you couldn't. You were still scared and shaking. You felt an invisible hand clutching your heart and throat as if it were about to crush them.

But you were still alive.

And she was falling apart right in front of you.

When the moon looked out from behind the thick clouds, you saw wet, shiny marks on her crumbling cheeks.

Are there good demons?

And when the sun came out of the horizon, there was nothing left of her but her bloody clothes. The only proof of what happened here.

After what happened and the mourning you shared with her family at the funeral, where you buried only her clothes, you wanted to know more.

You found out who white-haired man is and more about demons, but you didn't become a Demon Slayer.

The first ones killed your friend, the second hurt.

Since then, you've been trying to live your normal life, and you've started asking yourself...

Are there good demons?

You shake your head trying to get back to the present. That was long time ago, and you've get over with it, even though the memories still haunt you.

"I've brought some new seeds, but we'll probably plant them in the spring." You turned to the girl standing behind you.

She smiled at you gently nodding her head. Her silver hair swayed with her movement, reflecting the light of fire.

She looked amazing.

- - -

Your joint meeting was interrupted by a sudden knock and a vigorous shout of your name through the door.

It was Tanjiro Kamado.

Surprised by his visit, you went outside the cabin so he wouldn't see your guest. The snow fell quietly beneath your feet. In the mountains, winter came faster, and in the higher areas it can last even the whole year.

"Hello, Kamado-kun" you greeted him. The frost pinched your face and a small cloud of steam came out of your mouth. "What brings you here?"

"Ohayō!" Younger boy bowed to you. His nose, cheeks, and ears were fiercely red despite wearing a shawl on his head. "I thought you might be running out of coal and I wanted to see how you were doing."

Sweeten by his kindness and sincerity, you thanked him for his efforts. You both lived on the same mountain, but your cabin was on the other side. To reach it, he had to go down to the village, and then walk for a long time along a path circling the mountain before he started climbing again.

The road wasn't hard, but it was a long one, which is why you preferred to buy coal from him when you were downstairs so as not to bother him.

If you were alone, you'd have offered him in and tea. Maybe even the overnight stay, so he wouldn't have to come home in the dark and in the morning you would have escorted him to the village before you went to work.

"Oh, thank you. I'll pay you right away..."

You were reaching for your belt looking for a purse of money when suddenly he asked.

"Do you have a visitor?"

"Um, yes." You've been spin around trying to count the coins, but you've had a hard time doing it without feeling your fingertips.

You figured he must have sensed Mukago. The red-haired boy, as long as you can remember, had a perfect sense of smell. You wondered what exactly he sensed.

"The same one you took care of when she was sick?"

You nodded and didn't stop counting.

"What's she like?"

He asked unexpectedly. He knew a lot of smells, including the smell of human sadness, sorrow, or joy, but this one was completely new to him, so he couldn't determine who your mystery guest was.

"Oh, she's..." You've been thinking about trying to decide which term might best fit Mukago.

To a man-eating demon, who likes to wait for you in your attic. A demon who likes to watch you work on flowers and ask a lot of questions about them. A demon who, when she thinks you're asleep, strokes your hair or cheek gently.

"She's cute."

The boy nodded understandingly, knowing you were completely sincere. Then he stood with you for a while, trying to give you back some of the coins you gave him extra for coming all the way to your house, and you watched him leave happy.

The sun was half hidden behind the horizon and he didn't have time to get home before dark, but you weren't afraid for him. As far as you know, demons are very territorial, and Mukago's presence should deter weaker demons.

You didn't even think of the possibility that there might be a demon more powerful than her nearby...

But you weren't supposed to find out until the next morning from the other villagers and see two survivors disappear among the massacred bodies.

But that's not until tomorrow. Today, blissfully unaware, you returned to the inside of your home and your guest stiffly seated at your low table.

You could tell right away that she was more dreamy looking at you with her slightly spread lips showing white fangs, dilated pupils and...

You weren't sure, but is that the blush on her cheeks? She didn't hear you talking to Tanjiro, did she?

Right?