#the water wisteria is slowly recovering

[silverynight]

A sweet scent

This time is Kocho who gives them specific instructions to get to the next location. At first Tanjirou thinks this is another mission (poor Zenitsu is already shivering at the possibility) but then the insect hashira tells them the place is an onsen.

"Is a demon there?" Tanjirou asks, narrowing his eyes in confusion. Why would a demon end up in a place like that?

However, Kocho chuckles as she shakes her head.

"No. I just think you deserve to take a break for once," she tells them, to Zenitsu's relief and Inosuke's irritation. "That place is beautiful, perfect to relax. Also, it's owned by a wisteria family so they'll let you stay for a couple of days for free."

"Thank you, Kocho-san!" Tanjirou bows, instructing Zenitsu and Inosuke to do exactly the same.

"Also, there's a surprise for you there!" Kocho winks at Tanjirou, making him look back in confusion. "Well... Maybe you'll be the surprise."

Feeling even more puzzled now, Tanjirou decides not to ask and secures the wooden box on his back before saying goodbye.

***

The woman that greets them at the entrance recognizes their uniforms immediately and leads them inside. Tanjirou feels overwhelmed by the soft purple light that comes from the wisteria trees. He lets himself relax as he puts the wooden box in one of the rooms.

"You can take a bath while I make something to eat," a man offers them. "One of your fellow slayers is already there."

Tanjirou wonders if he knows them or not as he decides to leave Nezuko in her box. It has an outdoor bathing facility and it's early so she'll be safer inside.

When the three of them arrive however, towels wrapped around their waists, Tanjirou grins from ear to ear as he recognizes that long, black hair.

"Tomioka-san!"

He's already inside so the only thing Tanjirou can see is his face and his shoulders as he suddenly snaps his head in his direction.

"Tanjirou!" Tomioka utters, eyes opening wide; it's honestly refreshing to see any kind of emotion on his face, even if it's just surprise.

Behind him, Zenitsu bows at the water hashira before being pushed into the water by Inosuke; they both start arguing quickly.

Tanjirou can hear the splashes as he takes off his towel slowly and gets inside while he apologizes on behalf of them to the Pillar.

However, Tomioka looks away from him so quickly, that Tanjirou worries for a moment he might have hurt his neck by doing so. His cheeks are slightly pink, but that must be because the water is hot.

As Tanjirou approaches, he notices how Tomioka's shoulders lose tension until he looks back at him again. Perhaps he gets even closer than he should, but Tomioka smells so sweet at the moment that Tanjirou can't help himself. He knows the scent is caused by an emotion, but Tanjirou can't figure out which one is at the moment.

Maybe it doesn't matter.

"I heard you were hurt during your last mission," Tomioka mumbles suddenly, eyes roaming all over Tanjirou's face and shoulders as if looking for injuries. "I went to see you but you were unconscious at the moment. I... couldn't stay because I received an urgent message."

He takes a deep breath, looking almost in pain, for moment Tanjirou wonders if he got hurt too. However, he keeps talking.

"I wrote to Shinobu later and although she told me you were doing alright you were not ready to receive visitors yet and insisted I should wait here while you recovered."

It takes Tanjirou a couple of seconds to realize that the water hashira is almost... apologizing for not being there when he woke up.

It's the most he's heard him talk in a while and for some reason it melts his heart.

"I'm fine!" Tanjirou assures him, showing him the scar on his arm. "See, just a scratch!"

Without fully realizing what he's doing, Tomioka takes Tanjirou's arm with one hand and traces the scar with his fingers.

"I should've been there," the water hashira mumbles, frowning. It looks like he's talking (scolding) himself.

The sweet scent becomes stronger and Tanjirou thinks for a moment that it could be the smell of concern, but that doesn't make much sense. He's smelt concern and worry on many people before and it's definitely not sweet.

"Well... I'm fine now and that's all that matters, right?" Tanjirou tries to cheer him up.

Tomioka looks up at him and smiles back; it's a very soft expression, his ocean blue eyes are glimmering like they can't quite hide the storm of emotions inside.

"Yes, that's all that matters."

The way he says it makes Tanjirou's heart jump in a funny way inside his chest, however, Inosuke and Zenitsu's water battle is enough to distract him.

"Please, could you calm down for a couple of seconds? Tomioka-san is here and–"

It looks like they're not even paying attention to him, but suddenly, a glare from the water hashira is all that it takes for them to stop. Even Inosuke respects Tomioka (the Pillar tied him up to a tree once after all).

Finally, Tanjirou enjoys a little bit of peace for once. He turns around, only to realize that Tomioka has been staring at him with a fond expression this whole time.

It makes him feel flustered for a moment. But he relaxes as soon as he starts telling the water hashira everything that happened during his mission.

***

Before joining everyone for lunch, Tanjirou checks on Nezuko again. Fortunately, she's still peacefully asleep in her box so he decides not disturb her.

When he comes back to kneel in front of the table, Tomioka sits right next to him, perhaps closer than usual but Tanjirou doesn't mind. His sweet scent along with the smell of clean, dry clothes makes Tanjirou feel like he's home and nothing bad can happen.

As usual, Inosuke tries to steal some of Tanjirou's food, but he freezes when Tomioka clears his throat and glares at him.

Tanjirou tries not to find it funny, but he chuckles anyway, not noticing the way Tomioka smiles back at him. Zenitsu does though, but he just rolls his eyes at them both.

When they finish and Zenitsu offers to see how Nezuko is doing, Tanjirou gets startled by the feeling of rough fingers encircling his wrist; the touch is very gentle though.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course, Tomioka-san!"

Thinking that it's about training, Tanjirou is a little bit surprised when Tomioka leads him outside and doesn't let go of his hand even after they sit on the ground. The wisteria tree is right above them, lighting everything with blues and purples.

For the first time since he met him, the Pillar looks nervous. He even rubs the back of his own neck, cheeks turning pink as he looks down at Tanjirou.

"I've been thinking... After you finish your training with the other Pillars, would you like to come with me to the water estate?"

"I'd love to! I have always wanted to visit!" Tanjirou says, excited.

Tomioka shakes his head though, the blush spreads down his neck.

"I didn't mean to visit. I meant... to live in. With me. As my... partner."

Partner? The word is not unfamiliar to him, but he doesn't understand what Tomioka is trying to say with it.

"Like an apprentice?"

The water hashira pinches the bridge of his nose, he looks frustrated but somehow amused at the same time.

"More like a husband."

A gasp escapes from his lips as Tanjirou looks up. His face is burning and his heart is pretty much trying to get out of his chest. Suddenly the sweet scent coming from Tomioka makes so much sense now.

It's love, isn't it?

The silence must have lasted more than a couple of minutes because Tomioka's expression turns into sorrow.

"It's alright if you don't feel the same... We can forget I said anything, I–"

Tanjirou kisses him on the lips, it's barely a peck, but it manages to get the message across, judging by the surprise written all over the Pillar's face.

Slowly, Tomioka's lips quirk up into a hopeful smile, his eyes are glimmering.

"Was that a yes?"

Tanjirou nods, chuckling happily before being pulled into a warm embrace. Soft lips kiss his forehead as Tanjirou sighs, content.

***

Requested by one of my patrons! Thanks for supporting me! <3

Patreon

[kadeu]

Accepted — Hyun Soomin

♣   Hyun Soomin looks like Kim Chungha (solo) ♣    She was December 17, 1918; making her 106 but she appears 25 years old ♣   This Kumiho is Pansexual, Heart Defector, and a Three of Clubs ♣   She is an attendant at the Dragonfire Hotsprings and an errand girl

BIOGRAPHY

Bora was born to a single mother, a three of hearts serf full of dread and regret. It wasn’t always like that, though.

Her mother was a thousand years old kumiho who had been aging quicker than before during the past century, due to the stress and poor quality of life she led after losing all her money and, with that, her previous nine of hearts rank. Being a successful drug merchant wasn’t exactly the safest profession, with fierce and ruthless competition to go against it didn’t come as a surprise, even though it turned into a traumatic, life changing experience, to be framed and driven to bankruptcy. Never married to the father, he took that as a chance to abandon them, since his rank hadn’t been affected by the scandal. She lost everything except for the baby in her womb. All the way down to a three and with the little savings she had outside the Zuihuo Bank -not enough to change her rank- she was left with a huge debt, a large belly and almost no options for a new job. Homeless and having a hard time facing reality she wandered around directionless. She almost didn’t survive giving birth to Bora if it wasn’t for a spade healer that took pity on the kumiho trying to do it alone in an alley, her water breaking in the middle of the Joker moments before. Wondering what would be best for her and the baby, deserting hearts and trying to join spades seemed like her best bet, but she never made it to the spade territory. For some time, other lower rankers in the heart faction helped her and the newborn survive, she didn’t even feed in a long while because the stress caused migraines and slowly drained her power, but the incessant cries of her baby drove her insane until she reached a turning point. If she wanted to survive, if she wanted Bora to do so, she had to let her wild nature as a kumiho come out and be as ruthless as they were to her. The day Bora turned one year old she went into a feeding frenzy. She stole and hunted. She lied and deceived with her illusions. She hid. Every human heart and every human kidney she could get in her hands was split into halves, one for her and one for Bora. She wanted her daughter to come into her power as soon as possible while she gained enough strength and courage to initiate her next move. It came soon as a conclusion that it was either selling her body, taking part in morally dubious business or serving a rich family, and if she was going to do so, then the family she was indebted to was the most reasonable choice. At that moment she didn’t have a place to call home, nor any income. It was a blow to her already humiliated soul, but she would take it for her daughter. You would think an infant wouldn’t notice any of this, but Bora knew and felt, she absorbed all of it as she watched her mother work and take care of her at the same time to the point of exhaustion. Years later, when Bora was old enough, she began serving as well under the name Wisteria. Every serf working for the family received the name of a flower, and she decided to take the meaning of hers as a mantra; longevity and endurance defined foxes accurately. In a fresh bank account, she saved and saved, hoping to one day rise in the social scale and help clear her mother’s debt. It was harder than it seemed though, not earning much as a serf led her to contact people in the darkest alleys of the heart borough whenever she had a chance to go out. She ran errands for the house and for a drug dealing gang always going by Wisteria and not her birth name. A kumiho’s illusions and transformations came in handy for many things as it would appear. Her mother wasn’t happy with her decision, but Bora couldn’t stand watching how the serving life was weakening her day by day. It took decades to take a step upwards. Many times, she thought it would be impossible, but keeping an eye on her own -almost nonexistent- expenses and limiting her social life she became a four of hearts. Did anything at all feel different? No, but it actually gave her the opportunity to consider other means of living.

IN RECENT YEARS

Even though it sounded like a good idea, Bora never left the family she worked for, not even when she made it as far as five of hearts. She couldn’t leave her mother there, still being paid with just food and a bed to sleep on. There were so many things the young vulpe could do now, but she had grown used to the job, the faces and the fake sense of security that even her questionable side job gave her. And still, every once in a while, she could feel a tingling sensation all over her skin, her blood rushing through her veins and her trembling hands trying to reach for something invisible. She couldn’t help but wonder if this life was really meant for her.

Sooner or later things would change -her gut told her- but the way it happened marked her whole existence and dictated her future.

In the middle of the 2023 winter, January, her mother passed away. Depression and anxiety took her slowly over time, but too fast for a kumiho. She hadn’t turned into her fox form in a long while, even though Bora tried to make her. It was like she was giving up and her daughter couldn’t do anything but watch her fade away.

Was it unfair to feel betrayed by her mother and those she worked for? Bora didn’t know. All she knew was that everything hurt. Becoming orphaned and indebted by inheritance, which automatically demoted her to one of hearts, were never in her list of aspirations. Even the family she served for years started treating her differently, even though she was the same person. Her own existence started losing its meaning.-“Sorry for leaving so soon, Bora. I don’t know exactly when it’s going to happen, but I can feel that I won’t stay with you for much longer. Take care. You’re the only reason I haven’t left before. I love you.”

It was written on a letter she found among her mother’s belongings, next to a stack of older looking ones that after inspection revealed the strangely close relationship her mother maintained with a club, and not just a lowranker like her, not even a regular highranker like she used to be, he was a jack of clubs.

Making sure her tears didn’t smear the ink on the letters, she read through all of them, starting from the most distressed looking, the oldest. She learned that they met through work around the time her business saw enough success to branch out to other districts. Their relationship seemed merely professional at first glance, but Bora quickly caught up with the little affectionate terms and endearments they exchanged more and more frequently. It was also very clear that her mother was already involved with Bora’s father, but it didn’t seem to affect their mutual flirtation. She also learned that he was a kumiho as well as they casually talked about feeding, transformation and everything that was quintessentially a fox spirit’s concern.

Bora wondered if they got to meet in person and how often. If their longing for each other ever saw compensation. Hyperfixating on the letters for a whole month kept her from drowning in the despair she felt every time the world reminded her of the current situation and when she finished the last one, already more than ten years old, an epiphany took place.

Maybe this mysterious, at least in her eyes, jack of clubs was her ticket to a new life. All she had to do was leave everything behind, unpaid debt included, and flee towards the club district. They wouldn’t send anyone after her, right? They didn’t care for her mother until she offered herself in exchange for a roof.

Meeting him wasn’t as easy as she initially thought, though, the club borough was recovering for the recent civil war after all, everyone was extra vigilant. It turned out to be hard enough just to find his whereabouts, not to mention he was surrounded by heavy security, a necessity for a drug and gem trader, plus there was no apparent or justified reason for him to direct his attention to a one of hearts kumiho that had nothing but the bag she carried on her back. Unfortunately for him, Bora wasn’t going to give up as she couldn’t turn back. There was nothing but emotional pain waiting for her back in hearts. Yes, in clubs she would have to endure the physical kind, but her determination wasn’t running low.

It was during the third of her futile, middle of the street at night, ambushes that she mentioned her mother for the first time since she died, in a cry for help as his bodyguards slammed her to the ground. That was enough to discreetly take her back to his place and hear her out.

It was then when Bora learned his name, which the letters didn’t mention for privacy matters. Kwon Iseul sounded as serious as he was, at least from what Bora could grasp during the first conversation they had. He agreed to help her, but only under a long list of conditions that included a fake name and limiting most of her activities to the night.

From that moment on she would be known as Hyun Soomin.

Iseul covered her tracks so her debtors back at hearts couldn’t easily find her, a bit of personal rivalry getting in the mix, he also found her a place to stay and immediately commenced the mentoring and training she desperately needed. As kumihos, feeding in clubs wasn’t as easy as it was before, they no longer turned a blind eye much to Bora’s disappointment, but there were still ways that he taught her. Regarding fights, she had no experience, she only knew how to use her powers at a basic level. There was so much to do. A few days later, already in the third month of the year, she was officially a one of clubs under his wing.

Little by little she proved her worth as a warrior, from using illusions to transforming into a beautiful black fox, she used every advantage she had to very slowly raise her rank. Always letting some time pass between battles as the last thing in her interest was to call attention upon herself.

Nowadays she is a three of clubs.

She got a job at the hot springs as part of her façade and to make some money of her own, but until the Dragonfire reopens she just keeps running errands -in the dark and away from the heart district- for Iseul.

PERSONALITY

In the eyes of strangers, Bora is a quiet, observant, maybe even a judgmental person. She usually speaks in a low voice that holds her real personality back, unless provoked. Indeed, this is far from her true self, it’s just a reflection of who she used and fakes to be. Slowly, she is developing a daring and bold attitude that sometimes comes out at unexpected times. She’s simply getting to know herself better now that she doesn’t have to obey anyone. She responds to her sponsor, but she isn’t serving him. Plus, the fights are basically forcing her to be more assertive, she knows that presence and psychological dominance can play a big part when you’re physically smaller than the majority of your opponents. It’s not like she was a submissive small fry before, never acted like one, but it is now she’s finally starting to match her potential.

Smart, cunning, analytical, untrusting, individualistic, dominant, fearless. She is driven by nothing else than proving her own worth to herself, she has found out that she thrives in violence and that she is pretty good at beating people up. Her fighting style is full of tricks and backstabbing.  Sometimes she shows another side of herself, more relaxed, flirtier and charmingly mischievous, a side she’s coming to after meeting new people, mostly those working for Iseul.

Her vulnerable side comes out at the memory of her mother and her mental health, especially during the last few months before dying. She doesn’t like at all talking about her or her past. This also leads to paranoia, wondering if one day someone will manage to take her back to the heart district, her debt still unpaid.

On another note, she rarely shows her fangs, tail, fluffy ears or anything that indicates her nature, which isn’t that common in the club borough and would give her out. Although, when she’s around people she trusts, mainly Iseul, she likes to display her foxy attributes.

She doesn’t discriminate based on ranks, knowing perfectly well what is like to be on the bottom, but she can be very judgmental towards highrankers if they show that very same kind of demeanor.

She has heard of the resistance many times, but she doesn’t care about it unless they mess with her lifestyle. It’s not like she disagrees with everything they stand for, but she obviously can’t accept their policies regarding vulpes’ feeding. Yes, humans are living beings, but she needs it to stay healthy and strong.

Congratulations Kisu your app has been accepted and we’re excited to have your muse on the dash with us.

PLEASE FOLLOW AND WELCOME @cunningtype TO KADEU!

[the-lady-writes-what]

20. Tenya Iida 

Theme: Vampire, Southern Gothic

Kinks: Outdoor sex, biting (duh), slight blood kink, mild spanking,  mild punishment play, brat calling

All underaged characters are aged up. Tenya is 18+. Don’t come for me unless I send for you.

(The original Master List will change slightly from story to story. I keep adding stuff that I did not put on the original list)

Masterlist

You closed the ornate French doors behind you and stepped out into the night. The evening was sticky with the high humidity, but it was better than the sweltering heat inside. You fanned yourself with a silk fan and wandered into the garden. Cicadas hummed wildly in the trees while crickets chirped in the grass. In the air hung gardenia, wisteria, and homegrown lemongrass. So much better than the cloying, choking smell of cheap perfume, and even cheaper cigar smoke. You were dragged here almost against your will. The only things you liked about the party were the cocktails and the lovely new cocktail dress you got to show off. It was a silk and chiffon dress that wrapped around your body like a second skin. Best of all, it was in your favorite color. 

Here in the deep south of Louisiana, the silk and chiffon were welcomed in the heat. The evening had cooled a great deal since the afternoon when you arrived at this southern palace. If it had been hosted at an actual plantation home, you would have chosen to wear your new favorite dress to a different venue. 

Thankfully, the house was less than fifty years old and was owned by your boss, who liked a certain amount of Americana, odd for someone who was Japanese. But who were you to judge Mr. Toshinori? 

Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to walk into the night all by yourself. If quirks weren't bad enough, add vampires into the mix, and you have a world turned upside down. Before you ask, vampires were never real until someone had the misfortune of having a literal vampire-quirk. It spread by accent when that civilian had gone too long without sating themselves on living blood, they infected another. As it came to be known throughout the world in news and social media, the vampire quirk was passed through bites and the exchange of blood. The victim still kept their original quirks, but now they had to have blood to live, they can't step out into the sun unless the victims wanted serious burns, and they grew pale or gray like death, depending on skin tone.

But the party was too stifling.

Half the guests were strangers to you, friends of Mr. Toshinori. The other half of the guest list included people who just made you feel terrible. They weren't bad people, but they reminded you of a time when you had someone special. Tenya has been missing for two years since the vampire quirk first infected Japan. Though a lot of work had been done to quell the problem, many were still missing. One day he was there, fighting crime and protecting you and the city. The next, he was gone. Vanished. His family and agency didn't know where he'd gone, much to your horror. Two years later, there were more questions than answers.

The fresh air was necessary for you not to lose your mind or get plastered in front of Mr. Toshinori's friends. Tonight felt similar to summer evenings in Japan, so it wasn't out of place. You stepped further away from the house and squinted into the yard. A full moon pierced in between the branches and shed some light. You found a path that led out into an unfenced part of the yard. You weren't sure if Americans were fond of wide open backyards, or if the fancy house was built so far from the nearest neighbors, a fence seemed silly. You glanced over your shoulder, then continued. You didn't mind the grass tickling your legs, but it was the bugs treating you like an all-you-can-eat buffet. You found a pebbled path and took it to avoid all the bugs. Your heels weren't very high at all, so walking down the trail wasn't a significant feat. You circled the property, always making sure that you could still make out parts of the house.

The night grew longer. Sooner rather than later, someone was going to miss you at the party. Your quirk wasn't strong against most people, let alone someone infected with a vampire quirk. You think about going back but only think. The night air is so clear and breathable. You didn't even mind the bug bites and humidity. You made another circle around the house's property before your legs started to hurt. Behind a gardenia bush stood a stone bench perfect for you to rest. You sank down with a sigh. The smell of gardenias was almost too much before a new smell wafted towards you. It was a smooth, masculine cologne. You smelled it before and knew it well.

You sprang to your feet to follow the scent. It led you back around the house where no one in the windows could see you scurry through the bushes. The lights of the house slowly began to disappear the further you traveled. A finely manicured garden gave way to the wilderness. Moonlight and starlight guided you deeper still with frogs croaking around a small moss-covered pond. Moonbeams split between the branches of a weeping willow to outline the shadowed figure sitting at the base of the tree. You stopped in your tracks. Your heart started pounding.

The figure rose to their feet and turned towards you. A summer breeze brushed the leaves out of the way to reveal their full form.

"Y/N?"

Tenya's voice froze the blood in your veins. Tears welled in your eyes at the first intonement of his voice, and you took a cautious step towards him. Your legs shook to the point that you weren't able to stand any longer. Your heel snagged on an upraised root and sent you tumbled over. Tenya's superior speed let him catch you before you landed on the loamy ground.

"Are you alright?" Iida asked.

You balked. Your jaw dropped to the ground.

"Am I okay? Are you okay? What happened? Where have you been?" You had a thousand more questions. Instead, you chose to grab hold of his shirt and bury your face inside his chest.

His arms hesitantly wrapped around you. You breathed in his scent deeply. You missed this smell. Almost as much as you missed the man himself.

"I've missed you so much," you sighed.

"I…I missed you too," said Tenya.

You didn't bother to dry your eyes as you lifted your head to look up at him. Tenya's eyes glowed red in the dark. Gasping, you pulled away slightly. Tenya ground his teeth and turned his eyes away from you. You felt his arms slip away from you even though you still clutched his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I couldn't stop him. I wasn't trying to apprehend a criminal, but he bit me. I couldn't face my family or you after knowing what I became."

"Then, why are you here?"

"I made arrangements with Toshinori. I only wanted to see you one more time. I wanted to see how you were if you were eating right. If you moved on." Your heart sank. You reached up with both hands and held his face and turned it slowly over to yours.

"Move on? You hoped I moved on?" Your voice cracked at the insult. "All I wanted was to know what happened to you, Tenya. I love you, I don't care what you've turned into! You gave yourself up in the pursuit of justice. You're my hero, Tenya. How could I move on from you?"

You didn't give him a chance to make a rebuttal. You kissed him hard on the lips, licking and biting where you could. You both stumbled to the ground, Tenya being too distracted to stop the fall. You straddled his hips and held his head between your hands. Your tears watered his cheeks as you kissed his lips and each cheek, his eyes, chin, forehead, and both of his ears. You kissed him all over until his face was cherry red.

"Y-Y/N! Calm down, I understand! You, you love me. But there's something you need to know."

You stopped for a moment. More so to catch your breath than because he told you to. You wanted to kiss him all night. His eyes glowed red in the dark. Tenya leaned forward and braced his hands against the moist earth. As he sat up, you felt his hardened member poke between your cheeks. Tenya parted his lips. Two slivery fangs protruded from pinkish gums.

"I've been infected by the vampire quirk, which makes things like this…awkward. You have no idea how many nights I thought about you. Wondering if you would still want me after finding out I was infected. I wanted to go to you and," Tenya swallowed hard. "Do unspeakable things to you."

His face grew redder. The tips of his ears turned bright pink. You stifled yourself to keep from laughing. No matter how adorable you thought his face looked, that didn't make the situation any less severe. You needed to focus on what he was about to say.

"I found myself going to your apartment and thought about how your neck would feel against my new fangs as I thrust inside you. I wondered what you would sound like as I…fucked you and sucked your blood. I was afraid that you would think of me as nothing but a monster."

You reached behind your back, where Tenya's cock stood at attention. You wrapped your hand around him and pumped him through his clothes. This made the man beneath you buck his hips.

"Does this look like I think you're a monster?" You asked slyly.

Tenya grunted as you pumped him harder. You shifted forward a little, so you could unzip his pants pull it out. You couldn't tell whether it was the vampire quirk that made him so big and hard all of a sudden, or your administrative kisses were enough to make him rock hard.

In a flash, you were pinned to the willow tree, shielded from all view except for Tenya's. The wind was knocked out of you that you didn't get the chance to recover. The sounds of tearing fabric reached your ears before you realized that it was Tenya, your sweet Tenya, who was doing the clothes-ripping. Your silk panties were reduced to shreds by the time he was done with them. The seams of your dress were also ripped in his furor to get you to spread open for him. Tenya gave no warning before plunging right in. You moaned at how full you felt, how the veins of his cock rubbed you the right way. You tossed your head back as Tenya slammed his hips into yours. His teeth left indents in your shoulders and the tops of your dress, where it slipped from your shoulders. Tenya's speed and rough treatment made the willow tree shiver along with you.

"You're devious, you know," Tenya growled. "Fucking a vampire in the middle of the woods. You should be punished for having such a lewd mind."

Tenya held your legs wide open and pulled them taut behind his back. Your ankles instinctively crossed each other at the small of his back, and your heels dug into his flesh. Not that Tenya seemed to mind or notice. Tenya held you tight against him until there was no more space between you. In your lust-filled haze, you could no longer tell where you ended and where Tenya began. He pounded your cunt with the ferocity of a starving man at a buffet. You giggled how earlier you thought yourself an all-you-can-eat buffet for mosquitoes, and here you were being served up to someone who likely hadn't had sex for two years.

One of Tenya's broad hands came down against your thigh, turning it bright red with his handprint.

"Laughing…at a time like this, YN?" Tenya grunted with a deep thrust that kissed your cervix. "You should pay attention when you're getting punished."

If this was punishment, then you were going to be a very bad girl for your boyfriend.

"Mhmm, Tenya. Do it again. Fuck me harder, spank me more!"

Tenya slowed only to give you a stern look. His hips never stopped moving, and his cock was still heavily buried in you. He glowered at your sheepish smile.

"Is that how you want to play, little brat?"

You challenged him to a fight you could not win. Still buried deep within your inner walls, Tenya laid you out on the grass, hair and torn chiffon rumbled on the ground. He held your legs up to your chest and demanded that you hold them there. Your shoulders pressed into the dirt, but you didn't mind. Tenya resumed his seat in your warm walls and started stretching you out anew. This new angle was superb for reaching deep inside your cunt and hitting your cervix over and over again. Tenya clawed your body like it was his own toy to play with. Having never before seen this side of Tenya before, you moaned at the rough treatment. Your juices spread all over your lower belly, thighs, and the Tenya's pelvis. Stars danced in front of your eyes as you felt your whole body tighten. Your back arched taught like a bow. Your hands clutched the ground for support as you felt yourself falling. Tenya snapped his hips with enough strength to break your bones. Heavy ropes of cum warmed your walls and lower belly as it spread. You were utterly boneless despite Tenya slowly pumping more into you.

His head leaned down and pressed his lips against your throat. You felt the pinpricks of his fangs jut against your flesh, teasing and threatening at the same time. Slowly, you nodded your head.

Tenya waited for no more. He sank his teeth into as he started his pumping again. His thrusts were slower but harder. Each bone-shattering snap of his hips dragged you back up to that wonderful precipice you'd just fallen over. You moved your hips against him and wrapped your arms behind his neck. Tenya was careful not to take too much or too quickly. He suckled your blood with a strange gentleness that contrasted the harsh thrusting inside your womb. That only changed when he climaxed again, fangs and cock still fully sheathed inside you. You milked him while his mouth laved up the crimson rivulets.

You reached up to cling to his shoulders as Tenya carefully pulled away to avoid hurting you further. The ache in your legs was proof that you had never experienced the like before. However, it was a delicious pain. You vaguely remember Tenya rearranging your clothes and his before picking you up off the ground. You fell asleep in his arms, listening to the hum of cicadas.

[rekutopia]

In which Shirayuki came home to a surprise (part 2)

A part of the Flatmate AU (one, two, three, four, five, in accidental order)

“So tell me, girl, what happened?”

Yuzuri gazed closely at her friend. Shirayuki still appeared rather distressed but at least she seemed warm sitting on her bed of thousand pillows while tucked comfortably under her fluffy blanket. She had on Yuzuri’s pink pyjamas and woollen socks in rainbow colours. In her hand, she was holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She had also taken a hot shower and Yuzuri had fed her with sweet pumpkin soup – from the can, but hey, she showed up at very short notice.

Her friend lifted her chin slightly up and looked her in the eyes. Yuzuri could almost see the gears turning inside her head, weighing whether and how to explain whatever it was that turned her from a very happy muffin to a sad, miserable one in a course of only a couple of hours. She inhaled deeply and opened her mouth.

“Obi was having sex with Aki when I got home so I panicked and decided I couldn’t stay and went to your place instead,” she said in one long breath.

Yuzuri blinked. “Um. Okay.”

Shirayuki sighed and placed the mug on the bedside table. Then she shifted and hugged both her knees, resting her head on them. “It’s fine, Yuzu, you can say it.”

“Say what?”

“‘I told you so’”.

There might have been a small pool of tears slowly forming on her friend’s lower lashes. Before Yuzuri could get a better look Shirayuki nuzzled her face on her own knees, wiping them away. “I’m so stupid, Yuzu. I know I can’t fall for him. And look at me now.”

Yuzuri scooted closer and pulled Shirayuki carefully into a tight hug. “Oh honey, you’re not stupid. No one can forbid you to fall in love with Obi, not even yourself.” She tried to free her friend’s wet face from a couple of loose red strands. “Besides, Obi’s such a lovely person, and you’ve been living together with him since what, 3 years? It’s no wonder you fell for him.”

“Only a stupid girl fell in love with her gay best friend,” snorted Shirayuki into Yuzuri’s shoulder.

“Well, yea, that is, like, one of the saddest things that could happen to a girl,” Yuzuri said and earned a pinch on her thigh.

“Thank you very much.” Shirayuki half glared at her and half wiping her tears.

“But girl, when we talked about this before I thought you said you were, what was it? Toughing up yourself and building a mental barrier against his charm? Whatever happened to that?”

Shirayuki looked at her friend sheepishly. “Mmh, it...didn’t really work, I suppose. The charm is too strong...”

Yuzuri raised an eyebrow and gave the other girl a suspicious look. “Yea, we both know how strong his charm is. Especially with all the special treatments you’ve been getting lately, what with the case and all.”

Though Yuzuri was slightly amused from how her senior pharmacist reacted, she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. It's not like you can stop yourself from falling in love. And it’s hard enough when the other person didn’t reciprocate your feelings, let alone when it was impossible from the beginning – unless they could somehow stay in platonic love. But knowing Shirayuki, she has already passed the platonic stage from the first year.

Yuzuri kissed the top of Shirayuki’s head fondly. “I’m so sorry, Yuki. I wish there’s anything I could say or do to make you feel better.”

Shirayuki shook her head. “I’m already feeling better, thank you, Yuzu. I’ll be alright soon.”

“Shall we go to sleep? You’ll feel much better in the morning.”

Shirayuki nodded and buried herself deeper between the pillows, curling into a ball. Beside her, Yuzuri crawled inside the blanket and turned off the light while wishing her good night.

----

The clock on the dresser showed its glowing cypher. It was already 02:11 but it didn't seem like sleep was coming to visit her anytime soon. Except for the clock the room was pitched black. Shirayuki was not used to sleep in a room without any lights at all. Despite her drawn curtains lights from outside her window could still seep in. Yuzuri’s flat has light-blocking blinds and she always let them fall completely.

The darkness was not the only thing that kept her awake. Her mind was playing the scenes that happened since she entered her flat over and over again.

The happiness when she smelled Obi’s cooking. The arousal when she heard Obi’s erotic moans. The dismay when she heard Aki’s voice. The way everything was like a blur before she arrived at Yuzuri’s place.

It was only after she took a shower and had dinner that she recovered from her daze. She could even pull herself together and texted Obi to let him know she was not coming home tonight. His answer was sweet, unmeddling but not without worry, as usual.

If it weren’t for Yuzuri lying beside her, Shirayuki would have groaned and smacked herself.

Stop thinking about Obi!

But she couldn’t. And if she could be truly honest with herself, she didn’t want to. In her mind, an invisible hand kept opening drawers after drawers of memories of him, from the ones still freshly filled to the ones she tried to lock up and forget.

It started by presenting her all the things they did together – all the things he did for her – from the moment he came into her life. It was all Yuzuri’s fault, now that she thought of it. If it wasn’t for her, she’d never met him. She would probably be living alone in a tiny apartment somewhere outside of Munich and she would have to commute to work but she would be happy instead of broken-hearted–

Shirayuki stopped her thought at that point. Considering her disastrous history with men, there was no guarantee that some other guy wouldn't break her heart then, if not worse. Besides, she was happy. Living with Obi was the best thing that could ever happen to her. He brought her out of her shell. He showed her things and took her to places she didn’t even realise existed – like that one LGBT bar in their neighbourhood. Yes, a very sexy girl with very little on had almost kissed her and she was trying not to freak out the whole time but they had a good laugh after that and it was another exciting experience Shirayuki could file in her book. A book she would probably not even possess if not for Obi.

She sighed inwardly. Some mental barrier I’ve been building. Might as well crumble it down.

And so Shirayuki gave up trying not to think about her flatmate. She allowed herself to feel the tightness on her chest with every bit of memory she pulled out of her mental drawers. She surrender herself willingly in the warmth and pain that came with them.

The way his smirk turned into a kind smile when he noticed her embarrassment after his teasing, and how he always stopped before they turn into something mean.

The way his tired eyes lighted up whenever he came home from a late shift and found she was still reading in the living room.

The way their legs were tangled together whenever they watched a movie on the couch, a popcorn bowl between their thighs.

The way his front touched her back lightly each time he reached for the cupboard above her while cooking, enveloping her with his scent even for just a few seconds.

The way he placed his chin on her shoulder when he demanded her to shift her attention from the screen to him–

–All those sweet little things did not belong to her. Not anymore. Maybe they had never been. 

And that was when Shirayuki forced herself to break her line of thought before her mind could show her even more of things that made her long for her best friend. Stupid, mundane things, such as the way drops of water fell from the tips of his dark hair to his tanned bare shoulders after a shower.

Shirayuki did not wish for Obi to be her boyfriend. She knew it was useless to wish for something impossible. But during the time they lived together, Obi had never been in any romantic relationships – at least none she was aware of. It gave her the illusion that he would never be in one. That he would always be her Obi, whatever that even meant.

She bit her lip and choked back the tears that were threatening to fall again. She should not make Yuzuri more worried. It’s not like there’s anything she could do about this. She just had to face the fact – she was in love with Obi. And Obi was with Aki. Hers was a love that was destined to wither before it had even the chance to bloom. She knew it from the start so there was no point in crying now.

Tonight. Only tonight she would allow herself to wallow in sorrow. Tomorrow she would lock her feelings away in the deepest corner of her heart. She would do her best to forget about her love for her flatmate. That Zen Wisteria had invited her for dinner to celebrate GG Pharmacy’s victory. Might as well be their first date. She couldn’t deny she was also curious about the guy and it would be a perfect reason to keep her mind off Obi.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a new day.

*****

Aki wiped the small towel carefully over Obi’s back, taking extra care where beads of sweat had slightly pooled between his shoulder blades and on his venus dimples. The leaner guy was lying face down on the futon, spent. Though his breath was no longer laboured, he was still inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying to relax his muscles. 

“Feel better?”

Obi shifted gradually to a sitting position, moving his shoulders back and forth in circular motions, then twisting his upper body left and right to check his lower back. “Yea, the pain’s all gone.” He took a last deep breath, cracked his neck once, twice, and grinned at his friend. “You’re the best, Aki-chan, thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Aki grinned back mischievously, slapping the towel on Obi’s hip. “At least now I have an idea of how you’d sound in bed since you never gave me the opportunity to find out.”

Obi snorted and threw a cocky smirk at the other man. “I’ll let you know I’d sound much better then.”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it, love.”

Obi’s smirk dropped to a frown. “You should really stop calling me that.”

Aki sighed and held both hands up. “My bad. Hard habit to break,” he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just so easy to call you that, but I get it. Friends don’t call each other ‘love’,” he said in a mocking voice, making air quotes. Then he reached out to Obi and pinched the other man’s chin yearningly. “It was still the best two months of my life, though sex would’ve made it even more unforgettable.”

Obi huffed and yanked his head free. He was used to Aki’s teasing. He’s had a fair share of his own. When Obi met him at the beginning of the year he thought the guy could be someone compatible for him and admittedly, the time when they were together was fun, albeit short.

“Have you at least made a progress with the little redhead?” Aki’s voice startled him from his musings.

“What?” he squawked, not expecting the turn in the conversation. While Obi had taken his time to think about whether his relationship with Aki didn't fail because of his, apparently, inextinguishable pining for his flatmate, it had absolutely nothing to do with Shirayuki’s own feelings towards him. Which, in a romantic way, was simply non-existing.

“I told you she doesn’t like me that way,” Obi said, pulling his black, long-sleeved shirt back on while deliberately avoiding Aki’s gaze. “I’m just fulfilling my role as a supportive friend. She’s been having a hard time at work.” Then he looked up as he heard the other man’s scoff.

“Oh come on, have you never noticed the way she looks at you?” Aki groaned and his eyes rolled to the sky when he saw Obi’s blank expression. “And here I was hoping that my sacrifice would bring you golden-eyed, red-haired babies soon,” he mumbled disbelievingly.

Obi gave his friend a crooked smile. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.” But my feelings are my own responsibility. He opted to change the subject instead. “Could I offer you dinner, as a thank-you for your service?”

Aki curled up his lips in anticipation. “Depends on the menu.”

“Obi’s special black pepper tofu”.

“...Tofu?” Aki wrinkled his nose. Then he grinned and leaned closer to the other man. “I’d rather have you instead.”

Obi yelped and jerked away as Aki went for his ear with his teeth.

----

Only after Aki had left did Obi concern himself with the fact that Shirayuki was not yet home. This was highly unusual. Did she have an emergency order? Did she say she would come home late and he just forgot? Obi checked his phone but only saw his mother’s orange tabby glaring back at him from the lock-screen. Nope, no new messages.

When his shift changed unexpectedly today, Obi decided to use his free time to surprise Shirayuki. The general temperature had dropped today and he thought Shirayuki might like to come home to a hot meal. He chose the only spicy dish in his repertoire that her tongue could take and even substituted the beef with tofu, for obvious reasons.

Making a mental note to call his flatmate, Obi went to the kitchen and started heating up his dinner. It was already past eight and his stomach was growling. He was about to dish the plate when his phone buzzed.

[Little Miss, 20:16] Hi Obi, I'm sorry I didn't text you sooner. Something came up at work. It’s going to take a while until we’re finished, so I’m gonna stay at Yuzuri’s place tonight. See you tomorrow.

Obi frowned. It must have something to do with that case again. And there he thought the matter was slowly coming to an end and that the pharmacy ladies could finally take a breather. Oh, well. He eyed the food in the wok ruefully.

[Me, 20:17] it’s ok sweetie *smile emoji*

[Me, 20:17] say hi to yuzuri *wave emoji*

[Me, 20:17] tell her to make you dinner *pasta emoji*

[Me, 20:17] too bad you miss my black pepp–

Obi paused for a moment, then hit the backspace and deleted the last one. No need to make the little miss feel guilty about his surprise.

[Me, 20:17] take care

[Me, 20:18] don’t work too hard *winking kiss emoji*

[angmarwitch]

tonbo (dragonfly)

Jon x Sansa Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer) AU

Summary: "In the end, she was a pillar..." 

A/N: First of all, happy, happy birthday to my dearest friend @fromtheboundlesssea​. I’m truly grateful to have you as a friend. Thank you so much for expanding the What If fics that I really want to write (but I can’t cause honestly, my writing sucks these days and I can’t simply finish a multi-chap fic) and for the times when I can’t check your work on time because I am always busy. Also, thank you for being there. <3 I know you’re unfamiliar with this anime but I hope you’ll still enjoy (even if the ending is a bit angsty). 

For the readers, this is probably the first jonsa fic I’ve written in months. I’m still feeling bummed about Season 8 and my disappointment is hindering me from writing. I’m really sorry. I don’t know if any of you are familiar with KNY but I tried to make it as understandable as possible. 

For the fans of the series, this is inspired by Giyuu and Shinobu (I love their relationship & dynamics). But be warned, this contains spoilers from the manga. 

Enjoy!

Warning: Angst, Character Death, Spoilers from the Manga

There was no rule, spoken or written, that prohibits them from falling in love. Some of the Pillars (basically generals) from the previous generations, even retire to settle down and start a family of their own, shedding off the burden of being in the front lines to protect the innocent people that the demons feasted upon. However, from all the tragedy that had befallen the Lady of the Dragonfly Estate, she had learned to bar her heart from ever feeling such kind of emotion.

Despite the joy and seemingly carefree facade she puts up each day, there was no trace of happiness in her heart. The moment that her sister, the last remnant of her biological family, died, all the joy that she once felt slowly dissipated, leaving her heart void of any emotions except for anger. And the giddy persona that she had put up was her mask, her way of keeping the fury at bay. Of course, she wasn’t entirely incapable of feeling other emotions, she can still sympathize with others and understand what they are going through, it’s just that she can’t simply grasp the idea of being happy and falling in love after all that she went through.

But, in the end, she realized that she was just human.

She was clueless as to how or when it happened. But it did.

Someone had managed to thaw the ice that had frozen Sansa Stark’s heart and weaved away inside.

“Oh, darling,” Margaery had crooned so sweetly when Sansa confessed the burden that had weighed her mind for a while now, “it is not wrong to love.”

Naturally, Margaery would be the only person who would comprehend Sansa’s predicament, she was the Love Pillar after all. But her being so perceptive about love was not why Sansa approached her in the first place. Their comrades will never get it, them being male, and she could not tell them lest the secret comes out. Jeyne, her chosen successor, was still too young to grasp the concept and she does want to bother the Master with such trivial matters. Margaery could keep a secret and she was the only thing close to a sister and a motherly figure to Sansa.

“But we are pillars…” in the end it’s either we survive or die.

Margaery’s gaze softened, her delicate hand reached out to Sansa’s own and squeezed it gently.

“All the more reasons why you should act on what you feel. Our lives are fleeting, and we never know when or where we will die. Do you truly want to accept death without ever knowing how it feels to love and to be loved?”

“I…” Sansa paused, unaware of how to respond. She had spent all her life fighting, finding a way to avenge the family and the sister she lost to the Night King and Littlefinger, and she had never once considered this possibility. Her eyes dropped down and the feeling of sadness assaulted her senses. She hated that she had become emotional because of love. But she can’t deny the fact that she was also craving for what it has to offer, both the bliss and pain. 

Nevertheless…

“Tell him, Sansa,” Margaery urged, “ Jon deserves to know that you return his affections.”

The packet looked innocent and harmless to humans but one dose was enough to incapacitate a demon, ten was required to kill one. A year’s supply, however, was what it takes to take down one of the Upper Generals of the White Walker demons.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lady Melisandre implored, “there are other ways in which you can defeat Littlefinger and they won’t cost you your life.”

Sansa eyed the vial warily before swallowing all of its contents. For humans, wisteria does not pose any dangers or risks, and the poisonous compound that she had just ingested was almost similar to eating a powdered sugar. It was sweet. So very sweet…

“I have made up my mind long ago,” Sansa responded indifferently. She knows her biggest foe by heart. Littlefinger had always been so obsessed to get her and being the only Pillar who can’t decapitate a demon, this was the only way she can defeat him. She had altered her own body and changed her physiology to contain a huge amount of wisteria. This was what she had worked all her life and nothing could ever change her mind.

The victory will be hers and the death of her family will finally be avenged.

“I understand,” Melisandre conceded giving her a look of understanding and pity. Sansa does not need it. Yes, all of them may have suffered under the hands of the Night King and his demons but they will never get what she had gone through. All those nightmares, the pain, and the suffering that plagued her for years.

She gave their new ally a bow before standing up to leave. She was about to reach the door when Melisandre spoke up again, this time with a question she was not expecting.

“And what about the Water Pillar? Is his love not a reason for you to live?”

The memory of the event that happened ten months prior to replayed in her mind. Two different scenarios with two different women she had come to admire.

Yet, in the end, the response is the same.

Slowly, Sansa lifted her head and when their eyes met, Margaery could see tears unshed.

*

From the window of his house, Jon could see the incoming crow and there was something about its approach that bothered the young pillar. He had been recovering from his injuries from the injuries he had sustained from his last mission when he sensed its approach. So despite his body’s protest for him to continue laying down, he went and opened a window to watch the bird enter his vicinity.

Dark wings, dark words, were the words his Master would always say whenever a crow is sent out. Their crow familiars had always been the harbinger of news, both the good and the bad.  

Today’s message was either summons from the new head of the Bloodravens, the family that leads their organization, or it may be news from the North about his comrades. He had not heard from them while he was recovering so he braced himself for the worst.

He waited for the crow to announce the news it brought as it flew in the sky, instead, the crow took a plunge towards him. Jon was taken aback with surprise and alarm. It was very unusual for their messengers to do that when delivering the word. When the crow finally reached him, Jon felt dread creep in his heart as he saw the parchment tied on one of its legs. It must be very serious that it needed to be written. With shaking hands, he removed it and slowly unfurled the paper to see its contents.

He immediately recognized Margaery’s flowery script.

She loved you, Jon. I’m sorry, it read. His eyes ran over the text several times, not fully discerning what it meant. His heartbeat increased tenfold the longer he stared at it.

I don’t understand.

“Dead,” the crow cawed suddenly, jolting him from his daze. There was something heart-wrenching about the way it spoke the words. It was then that he noticed the red ribbon with the dragonfly print strapped on its neck. His eyes widened and the parchment fell from his grasp when the realization had sunk in.

“No,” he gasped, fervently shaking his head as he backed away from the window. He covered his ears, refusing to hear any more of what the crow has to say.

No…

“Dead,” it cried again, ascending higher into the night sky, “Sansa Stark is dead.”

[mioriia]

三 | Chapter 3 | Arc 0.3

The Wandering Maiden | Chapter 3

❝𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕫𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥... 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕀 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕝 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕟?❞

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

It's been a week since I was hospitalized, my wounds were slowly healing thanks to Urokodaki-san's special ointment. I could barely walk on my own, I thought I lost the ability to walk at first.

Ever since that night, I found out that the girl's name is Makomo while the boy with peachy pink hair is Sabito and they were all adopted by Urokodaki-san.

They were kids who lost their families to a man-eating monster; a demon. That's how much I learn about them, they didn't show it but the looks of their eyes when they told me this... Is just heartbreaking.

I want to comfort them but I can't.

No matter what you do, you must not let a human found out your real identity unless you want to be killed by them.

The voice...

For some reasons, he still continues to communicate through my mind and he never once reveals himself for all I know. He warned me about the possibility of being slayed by the hands of the demon slayer if I'm not careful.

According to him, I can't be killed by those weapons that demon slayers use known as nichirin swords or the changing color swords and it's the same thing with the sun and wisteria flowers.

Kishino's weaknesses are holy weapons and of course holy water, if we were attacked by another demon then our wounds will heal slower than how humans recovered so the chance of you getting killed is higher than you think, idiot.

❝Oh, shut up already...❞ I growls

❝Hmm, did you say something?❞

❝I-It's nothing, Urokodaki-san! I was just spacing out is all... Ahaha...❞

My palms feel sweaty for some reasons, is this what they call the feeling of being nervous?

Luckily, Urokodaki-san didn't pay attention much, nodding silently as his focus went back on the trio who were standing above a large wooden log floating above the water of the river, keeping balance them from falling over.

There were rocks being throw toward them as a part of the training to avoid multiple directions if there was no ground or in a situation where you are in an unbalanced area.

❝Giyuu, watch out for-❞

A loud splash was heard as the little ravenette's clothes was soaking wet with some of his now wet hair blocking his line of sight and instead of standing, he was sitting up in the river as little fishes were swimming around him.

❝The rocks...❞ Sabito whispers, sighing.

Makomo giggles, jumping down from the log as she turn around to face her peachy pink haired comrade who held a questioning expression at her sudden action.

❝What are you planning this time, Makomo-❞

A splash was heard as the next moment heea know that he felt a wet sensation on his face and the way Makomo was laughing at him...

Something snap inside Sabito as he lower himself onto the water, he was looking down as he start mumbling to her.

❝We were supposed to be training...❞

His hands were in the water the whole time as he cupped some of the salty water by using both of his hands.

What is he going to do now...?

❝But if you want to have the hard way then I has no choice to...❞

Cue the familiar sound of the water being splashes and now all of them were soaking wet from head to toes as Makomo start splashing around, sending hundred of water drops towards the boy as a revenge.

❝Water fight!❞

Their laughter were fill of so much joy as they have found themselves in a water battle between them and somehow even the shy Giyuu end up joining their little war.

❝I'm not going to lose to you, Makomo!❞

❝Same goes to you too, Sabito!❞

❝H-Hey I'm still here, you guys!❞

All of the sudden, my heart starts to ache at the sight of them playing around without a care in the world...I should be happy for them right but why?

Why does my heart ache so much...?

What is this feeling?

Why do I feel so weird when I saw them looking so happy...?

...Is this what they call loneliness?

.•° ✿ °•.

❝Hey, stop that! You're making my clothes soaking wet here!❞

❝Come on, Reina! You're going to loose it up for once!❞

A feminine voice chuckles softly as I frown slightly at her but nonetheless, a small smile tug at the corners of my lips.

❝Chie-nee, come and join us!❞

❝I'll pass❞

❝Ehh?!❞

❝Pfft... Ahahaha!❞

The three of us start laughing for no reasons but it was a pleasure moment for us...

°•. ✿ .•°

Blinking my eyes, stunned by the scene flashing before me. Was that one of my lost memories?

... Is this what my past life was like before I lost my memories?

Is that why I can't remember how those girls' faces look like?

They don't have the aura of a demon from what my past self saw them...

Could it be they're humans??

Were they... my friends in the past?

The thought of having human friends made my heart sang in delight, I feel like smiling for no reasons or whatsoever.

This little spark of hope...

I want to stay like this forever, it's a nice feeling like I was being hugged by a big bear.

❛This feeling... It's feels so warm...❜

You mustn't remember your past.

The words of reminder from the voice echoed throughout my happy moment.

❛Oh yeah... He told me that I can't❜

I start feeling down when I remember his warning of the possibilities of danger will come to me if I gain my memories again...

Gripping onto my blue yukata tightly, biting my lower lip. I was so frustrated at my current situation that I end up blocking the world around me, why is this so unfair?

Gods must hate me more than with other demons to put me through this...

What did I do to deserve this...?

My eyes feel like it was on fire, a burning sensation that it's making me want to cry...

❝Hey, Reina! Come and join my team!!❞

I finally snapped of my thoughts when a hand grasping onto my smaller one, looking up to find Makomo's smiling face. I was lost for words when she start dragging me down into the river with her leading the way.

❝You look pretty lonely over there so I thought you should join us too!❞ Makomo cheerfully said in her usual dreamy way.

.•° ✿ °•.

❝M-Miko-chii! W-Wait up!❞

I was being dragged as she lead me towards somewhere that I wasn't familiar with...

She turn towards me with a smile on her lips.

❝You look pretty lonely over there on your own, you know? I thought you should join us to buy some pork buns!❞

❝P-Pork buns...?❞

❝Yes, pork buns! Come on! Everyone is waiting for us at the entrance!❞

❝W-Wait a minute...! Kimiko!!❞

°•. ✿ .•°

❝Reina? Why are you... crying?❞

The expression on Makomo's face was the looks of concern and when I touch my cheek, I realize I was indeed crying when a wet sensation was falling across my face.

Shooking my head, I wipe the tears away as I smile at her.

❝It's nothing... I just remember something... good for once❞

❝Oh? That's good to hear then!❞

❝Yeah, the first time we ask for your name... You said you didn't remember it at first but then you remember it the next day❞

❝H-Hey! Are you saying that I'm getting old?!❞

❝Maybe❞

❝Sabito!❞

❝Hey! What was so uncall for!❞

❝What you get!❞

❝Take this, Giyuu!❞

❝W-Why am I getting involved with this?!❞

❝Attack the enemies, of course❞

Maybe I don't need to pretend to fit in afterall.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

A/N:

Have a cute moment of the water users trio's friendship + the amnesia girl! 😂❤ Thanks for supporting my story, everyone!

[kyukicho]

KNY Mini Au: Sabito’s survival

      Everything is the same except for his survival. During the Final Selection eight years ago Sabito managed to single-handedly kill every demon except one. He did so both because of his skill and to keep all the other applicants safe until the trial was over. The final and strongest demon proved to be too much for him. Fighting the demon for over a day while the rest of the applicants fled back to the beginning. 

      Exhausted and injured Sabito managed to get his sword lodged in the demon’s neck, causing it to flinch as it struck him in the head, trying to crush him. Instead Sabito was sent falling off a sheer cliff face which the demon would have to slowly make its way down. Now barely clinging to life, he managed to drag himself to the edge of the wisteria border before passing out. 

      It was a day late, and all the other applicants had already received their congratulations for completing the selection so no one was left who knew who exactly the boy was. His tell-tale mask having been broken by the demon in the fight. So he was instead rushed to the nearest village to recover.

      Having technically passed the selection, Sabito was granted entry into the corps. For the last eight years he has been steadily raising through the ranks, having no knowledge of who his teacher was or where he came from. Only his water breathing and vague childhood memories remained. In current times, he is now 21. He wears the same pattern on half of his clothing and pure black on the other as a reminder that he isn’t quite whole.

[punishandenslavesuckers]

She has no throne. Girls without thrones should not have knights, but hers won’t go. Princess Zelda – the girl who killed Calamity – would love to fade into legend, but Link’s bought a house, he’s fighting off monsters, and he’s selling giant horses to strangely familiar Gerudo men. She’ll never have any peace now. (ao3)  

(chapter one) (chapter two) (chapter three) (chapter four) (chapter five)

They depart the Rito Village – albeit with some apologies for the structural damage to several rooms – and some notion of heading south toward Tabantha where, as Link promised, there was the possibility of dragons. They’re almost a mile along when a shadow cuts a swift but massive path across the road before them. They look up just in time to catch the sudden, high-speed intercession of a mostly recovered Mishi. He lands with a massive backdraft directly in front of Zelda’s horse, hitting the ground hard enough to kick up dust and mini cyclones. Luckily Maru is long accustomed to bizarre happenings and barely nickers even when a giant bird person appears from the sky. She just stops and snorts, offended.

“Wait!” Mishi says. He’s breathless, frazzled. “I didn’t want to miss you!”

Zelda, thrilled, dismounts to meet him in the road. “Mishi! You’re looking much better!”

The color in his plumage is brilliantly dark and glossy now, his eyes bright, feathers ruffled with emotion. Standing directly in front of her, he’s about half a head taller than her, wearing Rito archery gear, a breast-plate engraved with his clan crest, and a massive long bow clipped to his spine. Above them, the sun’s begun to track across the morning sky and – for a moment – Zelda feels herself pulled by anachronism. She’s been on this road before. Stood like this before. Facing a man like this before wearing armor like that before.

Zelda can feel Link behind her, waiting.

 She roots herself in the present. Mishi, not Revali, touches her forearms lightly, cupping them in the massive curl of his wings

“I couldn’t let you leave without thanking you.”

“No thanks necessary. Just… stay away from the eastern wind temple. There’s old magic there and that’s probably what..” She swallows. “I’m very glad you’re doing better, you know. We were worried.”

“Thanks,” he says. He reaches up and un-snaps a cord from his neck – a feather and stone pendent, a white arrow-head affixed with thin blue-black plumes. He carefully places it in her palm. “Carry that with you, priestess. On my family’s behalf. If you ever need help, you’ll have it from me and all my clan. You and your allies.”

Then, quite before she can do anything except stammer, Mishi puts both wings over her shoulders – warm, dark, and heavy.

“I won’t forget it, Zelda.”

He, gently, bumps his forehead against hers. Then he steps back… and takes off, straight up, launching skyward with such force the gale he leaves in his wake kicks up a spiral of wind – tearing her hair up into a weightless whirl as Zelda stands, laughing, shielding her eyes from the sun to watch Mishi rocket through the atmosphere. He cuts a sharp arc toward the mountains, tearing away on an unstoppable trajectory beyond the foothills and into the highlands. She presses her fingers, curled around the totem, to the smile on her lips and for a moment she lives in that rising heat, like warm waters on a tide, rising within her.

Then she ties it around her neck and mounts up again.

Link signs, ‘He’s fast.’

“Just like Revali,” she agrees. Then she blinks, hard, beset suddenly by a heat of tears. She clears her throat. “Draga’s upset with us.” She nods to the shrinking silhouette in the distance, largish and moving at a fast canter. “He hasn’t done that since the mask incident. He didn’t even want to talk about looking for dragons in Tabantha and that—” she makes a face – “is probably a bad.”

Link signs, ‘You think it’s because I punched him?’

She shoots him a look. “Don’t be smart. Why did you do that, anyway?”

He shrugs.

“Do you ever think about what you do?”

He shrugs again, more deeply.

Zelda shakes her head. “I think, before, you tried much harder to hide that kind of thing from me.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Not really. I wasn’t this reckless before.”

She blinks.

Link’s still watching the road. Zelda studies his face, but his expression is neutral and unconcerned. He pats Epona fondly and fishes for something in his shoulder satchel. She waits. Oh. He’s eating a snack. That… that was it. He just said that and now he’s back to riding. Zelda tries to look less worried while her former knight escort chews on a bit of dried apricot and hums to himself, content to set a steady pace beneath the cold morning sun. He’s wearing his hood up, lazy, letting Epona pick her own path down the road while he guides mindlessly with his knees. Zelda slowly looks away so she can frown privately at the back of Maru’s ears.

Eventually, Link takes not of her silence. She hears a short whistle. When she looks up, Link’s arching a brow at her like he’s been trying to get her attention for some time now. The sun’s moved in the sky. Draga is still pacing about a quarter mile ahead of them, so he’s still mad.

Link’s face asks before his hands. ‘What’s wrong?’

“What did you mean when you say you aren’t as reckless as you were one-hundred years ago?”

He gives her a funny look.

‘I meant what I said,’ he signs.

“Yes, but…” She stops.

It’s a clear day, but the Hebra cold leaves breath visible. There’s a thin layer of snow on the foothills not far above them. Link’s still staring at her, cheeks red, brow drawn down, half a question on his lips that never quite becomes. Then, slowly, a dawning blankness moves into his face and sets fine lines of dread across the interior of Zelda’s lungs.

Then Link just faces forward again and says nothing.

Epona tosses her head a little so he leans forward to run his hand across her neck and Zelda makes a detailed study of Link’s hand as he smooths it over Epona’s downy hide. At some point, Link let a stable girl to braid her mane into a loose series of rows and knots that allowed her to thread several bouquets worth of mountain flowers into it – trapper bells, apple bloom, and violets mixed with wisteria. They’ll wither by the end of the day, Zelda knows. He’ll have to comb and pick the dead plants from Epona’s mane and she thinks of him one-hundred years ago – his old war horse, tacked for battle, meticulously groomed and saddled.

“Is that… silent princess?” she asks eventually, pointing at a flower behind Epona’s ear.

Link glances at her. He’s lowered his chin a little, so the lip of his hood shades his eyes. She has to watch his mouth to read anything from the way he nods instead of speaking. Zelda, carefully, leans from Maru’s saddle so she can lift the flower from Epona’s mane. Zelda sits back properly again. She spins the blossom between her fingers then, on a whim, she slides the stem behind her ear, arranging it into a fetching angle at her temple.

“There. How’s that look?” she demands, swiveling at the hips to face Link.

He gives her a very small smile and thumbs up.

“Useless. I’ll ask Draga.”

‘He’s still mad,’ Link signs looking a little offended. She can see his eyes now.

“I didn’t punch him. You did. And he got the best of you in that fight, by the way, I hope you don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“What? No, he didn’t.”

“Bye,” Zelda says, kicking Epona into a canter.

“Hey!”

They race to catch up with Draga and she loses the flower before they even get there.

  “Link, do you want to go back to Zora’s Domain?”

He glances at her.

The fire crackles, the scent of roasting fish rising warm from the small travel-sized skillet, the oils popping softly. They’re seated in the shade by a small creek near the road. Link is halfway through the motion pinching herb into the pan and he squints at her instead of giving it the attention it needs; he’s finicky about how things are salted or flavored. Damn. She should have waited until after lunch to ask that question. Ruining a meal with personal questions. She intended to ruin the afternoon generally with personal questions, but ruining food as well… that was just unnecessary.

“Sorry. Never mind.”

Link finishes sprinkling herb and dusts his hands on his pants. Then he turns to crouch facing her. Oh no. He’s giving her his full attention. Which isn’t to suggest he doesn’t usually, but rather that she wishes he wasn’t doing that right now because her question in retrospect seems presumptuous. Link folds his hands between his knees, his elbows on his thighs. Oh, Goddess. He’s giving her his full undivided attention. Link’s full undivided attention, among other things, has brought down giants.

Presently, it’s just making her deeply anxious.

“I only ask because… we’ve only been back the one time. Now that the shrines aren’t working, it takes so long to travel and I just wonder if you wanted to make some time to go there and…” She gives a helpless shrug. “Visit?”

Link thinks about it. Then signs, ‘Do you want to go there?’

“Well, it’s comforting you know.”

Link eyes her steadily then signs, ‘I’m fine.’

“I know Bazz and Gaddison have asked you to come around. Are you afraid they’re going to group hug you to death?”

“Terrified,” he says calmly.

“But, Link, all joking aside. Do we need go back?”

Link gives her a look.

Draga, who is no longer actively avoiding their physical presence, looks up from where he’s seated nearby – back against a log, reading a book. It’s much warmer now that they’ve dropped elevation but he’s still wearing full Snowquill gear and a scarf. This does nothing to detract from the vague sense of dangerous he exudes when he eyes them over the coils of said scarf.

“Zora’s Domain is on the other side of Hyrule. You know that, right? We could not be farther away, presently.”

Zelda glares back at him. “Yes. I know. I am aware.”

“Just checking.”

“I’m sorry, but don’t pick a fight with me just because you’re grumpy.”

“I’m not. I’m saying Zora’s Domain is far away.”

“Bravo. Geography. You know I was the Princess of this land once, right? I might know where things are located.”

Link, visibly uncomfortable, laughs nervously. “Can we not?”

Draga shuts his book. “Why do we need to go to Zora’s Domain?”

“Maybe that’s personal,” Zelda says, folding her arms. She lifts her chin slightly. “Maybe it’s none of your business.”

Draga looks at Link. “Why do we need to go to Zora’s Domain?”

The Hero of Hyrule, Hylia’s chosen hand, embodiment of the Light, glances quickly toward the creek like he’s wishing it were much deeper and he could throw himself into it to avoid this conversation. But he can’t and Draga’s sitting forward now, draping one arm over his knee, his book dangling between his fingers as he narrows his eyes. Draga’s right cheekbone is still bruised. He didn’t let Zelda heal him and seems to have used just enough first aid to close the cut there, but nothing else. Link still has a split lip and scraped knuckles.

“We don’t,” Link says.

“Zelda is making a face. I don’t believe you,” Draga counters.

Link glares at Zelda who wasn’t aware she was making any face whatsoever and tries to stop having a face immediately.

“I’m fine,” Link says.

“Why,” Draga drawls, “did you assume I thought there was something wrong with you?”

Link tenses.

Draga just stares, calmly, waiting.

“I’m sorry I hit you earlier.”

“Thanks, but that is not what I’m talking about right now or why I’m asking.”

Link signs, ‘It’s no problem.’

Draga signs, carefully, ‘L-I-A-R.’

“Leave it alone,” Zelda starts to say.

Draga interrupts. “But since you brought it up – why did you attack me? You’re crazy, but that was rude. You’re not usually rude.”

“I’m not crazy,” Link says calmly.

Draga rolls his eyes. “You’re reckless but you’re not rude. So why did you do that?”

Link’s mouth thins. Then, “I don’t know. Just felt right.”

“Hitting me felt right?”

Link shrugs.

“Are you sure you’re not crazy?” Draga sighs, a little dramatically, seemingly ready to abandon this line of questioning.

Then Link repeats, quietly, “I’m not crazy.”

And then there’s a long silence.

Draga, who was clearly not trying to dig at a nerve, seems mildly unsure what to do upon realizing he’s found one. Zelda, who was not aware that was a nerve to dig at, blinks. Link, who seems to realize what he’s just done, freezes. Luckily that’s when the fish he left in the skillet starts smoking and then bursts, somewhat improbably, into flames. Small miracles. Draga points. Zelda yelps. Link, noticing the sudden flames, grabs the handle on reflex and promptly burns his hand. He hisses, then tries again with a towel whereupon he just flings the whole pan into the creek where it ricochets off a rock and disappears into the shallows on the opposite bank.

Zelda stares.

Draga, dumbfounded, says, “You lost your pan.”

“Damn it,” Link says.

He inspects his burned hand. There’s a bright red band bisecting the centre of his palm.

“Here,” Zelda says, standing up. “Let me see.”

“Don’t,” Link snaps.

Zelda stops exactly where she is, boots rooted suddenly to the ground. Draga doesn’t say a word but Zelda can feel him… settling on her peripheral. Link flexes his hand a few times, furling and unfurling his fingers as the burn darkens, flushing with heat. She’s pretty sure it’s going to blister. She’s certain it must hurt. He looks over his shoulder at them and Zelda isn’t sure how to describe the specific notion that Link’s eyes get bluer somehow, intensify with his temper, even though that cannot be true. When he looks like that… huh, she thinks of the Wolf on the road.

“So there’s a demon in your shadow,” Link says, looking at Draga.

Draga, who was nowhere near that topic of conversation, stares then slowly allows the violent change of subject. “Yes, we established this. Are you getting that pan or…?”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course, it bothers me, but you get used to it.”

Link turns around. “Do you want us to try and get rid of it?”

Draga laughs, then seems to realize Link is serious. “That’s a notion, but no. You can’t break the tie with this demon. It’s too ancient even for you two. I admit, there is a wildness to you both that defies the laws of convention so nothing is impossible, but unless you exhibit some control over what you do I can’t imagine you breaking a curse this powerful.” Draga tilts his head. “No offense, Link, you’re strong. What power you possess, it tends to wipe out what stands before it, but you act in instinct. Do you even know how you did what you did back in the Rito Village?”

Link says nothing.

Zelda cuts in, “I could try though. The entirety of my inherited magic is fashioned for sealing malicious power.”

“And you used most of it against the Calamity,” says Draga evenly. “And what practical application has there been from your study of sorcery at the Hyrulian high court? Any at all? Or do you, like Link, draw on some unspecified knowledge at the time of necessity?”

“That may be true,” she says, ignoring the sting of that – the implication that years of prayer and study have amounted to nothing so much as book knowledge, “but how can a single dark spirit be more dangerous than the Calamity Ganon?”

“I don’t believe it is more dangerous, just more subtle. Zelda, your power is a hammer.”

“And that won’t work because…?”

“You cannot kill what you cannot reach. The demon isn’t… here. It’s on the other side of the veil. The demon tribe does not exist on this plane until they choose to do so and they needn’t present themselves in our world to do harm.” Draga gestures to his bruised cheekbone, the place where the monster laid a gash open during the fight. “Again, what you saw was a shadow on a wall. The real beast is… bigger.” He hesitates, like even talking about it sets him on edge. “But this is all beside the point: I have protections afforded me by my family. So long as I do not engage in pact magics, I am safe.”

“You’re sure?” Link says.

“After two decades of living with it? Reasonably.”

Zelda frowns, moving to take a seat on the log he’s leaning against. “Your basing this off the fact it… simply hasn’t tried anything historically?”

“No,” Draga says quietly, “I’m basing it off the fact my sisters worked very powerful magic to protect me before they died. Generations of my family have fought endlessly to break the curse and they’ve come the closest to doing it – to limiting its scope. It would dishonor their efforts to expose others needlessly to the danger now. So… I thank you, but pick a different battle. This one is mine.”

“So fight all the battles that aren’t close to us?” Link demands.

Draga looks at him. “Why are you so eager for a fight?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re being rude again. Are you going to fight me now?”

“Of course not.”

Draga narrows his eyes. “Okay, what you actually angry about? Because it’s not my curse. You’ve been in a mood since we left the Village this morning and you were fine before then so what is it? Because I think I’ve humored you long enough about something that is, actually, deeply personal so either respect my wishes not to be your next battleground or tell me what’s actually wrong.” He folds his arms. “If you can do that, maybe I’ll consider letting you help. Your choice.”

And Link, rather precisely caught, looks away.

After a while, Draga sets his book aside and moves somewhat laboriously into a crouch.

“If you’re not going to get that skillet, then I’ll do it. You’ll just be irritated about it later –”

“I don’t remember things,” Link says, cutting him off.

Draga stops. He processes that, then calmly, “I thought you said you’d recovered most of your memories.”

“Some,” Link murmurs. “Not most.”

“And that bothers you?” Draga asks.

He doesn’t quite smile. "You get used to it."

If Draga resents his words being echoed, he doesn’t give sign. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. Is it the first Zelda’s heard of it?”

And Link looks at her. She’s fighting back the knot in her throat because he looks so tired in that moment.

“I knew,” Zelda cries, hands clenching tight in her lap. “I thought it was… Link how bad is it? You never talk about it! You remember so much. We talk about the past all the time. I… I sensed that you’d remembered our time together. What do you mean you don’t remember things? What’s missing? Was I wrong?” She stops when Link folds his arms and looks away, a slight visible pain moving across his face, then sliding back into unreadable calm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn't answer.

“We can go back to Zora’s Domain,” Zelda says, desperately now. She stands up, hands clasped tight, pressed against her stomach. She feels nauseous. Dizzy. “They remember you from before I knew you. You said before that they helped you get things back. You have so many friends there. They would certainly help you. Please, you don’t have to… pretend everything is fine. We can stop. We can go back. Just talk to me.”

“I don’t think it will help.”

“Why?”

He shrugs.

“Link, no. Tell me why.”

“I always…” He tries to go on, but his next words stick and die. He says nothing for a moment, as though he’s not certain about continuing at all, but Draga is waiting and Zelda is waiting, trembling with the silence, so he signs, ‘I always assumed I’d lose my mind. So, it’s not a priority.’

Zelda says nothing.

Then, “What?”

Draga, who is probably catching only a handful of Link’s sign, looks sharply at her.

“You’re not going to lose your mind!” Zelda cries.

“What?” Draga echoes.

Link’s completely emotionless as he, wordless, lays it out in gesture and sign. ‘I already did once. It’s not unreasonable to think it’s likely.’

 “Why would you say that?” Her voice is starting to crack. “What do you mean…?”

‘I don’t know. I have a feeling. My instincts tend to be good. That’s all.’

“How long have you felt this way?”

’Since the sword chose me. Draga is right: I have no control over the power inside me. It's going to eat me alive.’

Zelda covers her mouth with one hand, shaking.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.’

“I don’t understand what he’s saying,” Draga says tensely.

“Link…” Zelda hesitates to see if he wants to speak for himself but he gives her a small permissive nod. “He's saying he has no control. That... the magic itself is going to drive him insane and...” She looks desperately at her once knight and partner, who calmly waits for her to translate the massiveness of his admission into plain words. “…because he lost his memories once already, it's accelerated the timeline. He thinks he will lose his mind and that it’s going to happen sooner rather than later. That's why he's pushing about the curse, because he thinks it's going to get worse.” Tears are brimming in her eyes. “Link is that right?”

He drops his gaze.

He nods.

And Zelda, barren of any other instinct in that moment, shakes her head. Slowly at first, then hard, until her hair is in her eyes and her heart in her throat and she can’t – she can’t –

She dashes across the short distance, hitting Link in the chest, palms first. She hears him grunt softly with the impact. Her hands close on his tunic. She can feel the scale mail beneath it – a token of his childhood friend, hand-crafted to fit him. His eyes are wide. She can see every organic fractal of blue in his irises and the faint scar at the top of his forehead where his hairline starts. He got it from a riding accident when he was ten. His ears are pierced because Zora give jewelry so casually as a gift.

His hands close over hers. She can pick out a myriad of pale scars on his fingers – a history of learned violence she was never witness to. She doesn’t know the stories in the callouses. She doesn’t know the topography of his lost history, mapped out in implication only and gone now in the wake of the Calamity. Her fists ball up in his shirt and she pulls at him so she can drop her forehead against her fists and breathe.

 “You could have told me,” she chokes. “I wanted…. I wanted to know that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, aloud but so softly it could be lost in the breeze. “It was easier to pretend.”

She draws back, lifting her eyes. “How could that be easier?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, just turns from her, so her hands slide from his breastbone to his shoulder. When he continues not to answer, she moves behind him and (after a hesitation, intense, all encompassing, white hot) loops her arms around him, tucking her arms around his ribs, her hands lacing over his chest. She lies her cheek against that back of his neck. His hair tickles a little. He smells like the floral bar soap from the inn. Her heart is slamming in her chest – rabbit-quick and afraid.

“You can tell me.” She swears it to him, but still the silence stretches. “Please. Please, just tell me…”

“You didn’t know me well enough to tell the difference.”

Zelda nods, just once, then presses her face against the slope of his neck, feels his hand close over her inter-locked fingers. Squeezing tight. Like an apology or to keep her from pulling away in the aftermath. She’s not sure. She’s not sure about anything. She's not sure he could have hurt her more if he drew his blade across her arm – letting blood from her veins like venom from a bite. His hand tightens until the bones in her fingers ache and she, acting on impulse, mouths ‘it’s okay’ against the nape of neck until his hand relaxes.

“Link,” Draga says, when it's clear Zelda can't go on, “do you want my opinion?”

He waits for Link to nod.

“In Gerudo teachings, magic use of any kind always carries some measure of madness. An attitude of risk. The greatest danger to any sorcerer is the possibility of losing themselves to the powers within them – The Thousand Voices. The Sea of Lives. To lose yourself to any of these is to fall to abomination and possession. It’s what killed my family and what stands in my shadow... so when you tell me you’re afraid to lose yourself, know that I hear you, but also know that I have some notion of the signs.”

He lets that settle for a moment.

“When you say you’re going to lose your mind, do you mean you’re going to lose yourself to the Sea or that your memory loss has made you a different man?”

“Both,” Link says quietly.

“One may not have anything to do with the other, you know.”

“I dream about drowning in twilight and a moon that falls time and again, infinitely.” Link’s hand tightens on Zelda’s again, his shoulders set. “I dream about falling so far from above the clouds that I can barely see the earth. In the dream, I’m another person. When I wake up, I feel that I don’t have enough of myself left to keep them out. One has to do with the other.” He shivers. “I’m… afraid of losing my mind again. It’s like dying…”

“Look at me,” Draga says. “Link. Look at me. You embody the soul of the hero, yes, so you have many lives lined behind you. Maybe they tell you how to move. How to fight. How to employ magic you’ve never learned or a tactic you’ve never tried. Maybe, in moments of battle or fear, you see a window into a section of their lives, but I don’t believe they will consume you.”

Link's looking at the creek, not Draga.

Link says, “Why not?”

“Because those lives are yours, in some degree. They’re behind you. Like memories. You’re troubled because you’re beginning to see memories that are not your own when your own memory has been so dramatically reduced. You were wounded in battle, Link. You lost parts of yourself. I won’t say that I know whether you will ever get those pieces back, but even so the man you are now… he’s far too stubborn to fall to the men that came before him.” 

“None of them lost to the Calamity,” Link murmurs.

“None of them had to come back from losing.”

“I can’t control it.”

“Such is wild magic. It’s not for you to control, but it’s intent is not your destruction. You can stand in the eye of the storm and direct its trajectory, Link, simply trust that you’re unmovable.” And when Link does not look at him, Draga moves forward and with two hands takes his head into his palms, fingers curling around the back of his neck, thumbs hooked behind the line of his jaw and when Link doesn't pull away, he guides his eyes up. “Listen to me," he says. "You are not insane. Even if every hero before you was utterly mad, you are not and you will not be."

Link exhales. "Why not?"

"You have Zelda. You have me.” He searches Link’s eyes, shakes his head. “I do not see the signs in you. So, you won't be lost."

Link doesn’t move. Doesn’t relax.

“Do you believe me, Link?”

Zelda can smell copper, taste it, like a coin on her tongue.

Link exhales, slowly. “I believe you.”

“Good. Then we should get back on the road.” Draga lets Link go and moves to pick is book up from the grass where he left it. “There are dragons at Tabantha Bridge. Or was that not true?”

Link turns in Zelda’s arms. Before she can react, he cups her face in his hands and presses his mouth to the plane of her right cheek. He says something, soundless, against her skin. ‘Thank you’ perhaps or… or something else. She freezes. Her entire face flushes, but as fast as he does it, he stops. He steps away, moving past her toward the creek where he starts to wade across the shallow water, hunting for the skillet. Zelda can’t explain why her lips, not her cheek, seems to ache from contact (or lack thereof) and the shiver that runs down her body ends somewhere in her stomach.

Draga turns around, slinging a satchel over his shoulder. “Gerudo country isn’t far from here. We have time to slow down before we head that way.”

Zelda rubs her cheek. “Yes, right. Of course.”

Link’s plucking the lost pan from the water.

Draga’s looking at her. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yes. I’m okay.” She pulls her hair back. “Uh, thank you again, Draga. I… I appreciate it. I think Link needed to hear that.”

“You two need to talk more,” he says quietly. “I mean what I said – he’s safe but much of that has to do with you. Isolation is the fastest way for the Sea to take a soul beyond the shore.” He moves toward the clearing where the horses are penning beyond the trees. “I may not always be here. You need to be sentinel.”

Zelda hops the log by their rest site, chasing him down.

“Draga.” She catches his arm, pulling him around to face her. “If you leave Link and I, who will be your sentinel?”

He says nothing, just peers down at her, eyes unfathomable and green. He’s so tall he casts a shadow over her. She waits.

“I’ve been alone since I was fifteen, Zelda. I’ve had seven years to work out how to protect myself by myself. You needn’t worry about me.” He smiles a little. “But I appreciate it.”

She lets him pull away to check the tack on his horse.

“Okay,” she says to herself.

Behind her, Link is putting out the fire and packing up. Draga is patting Arbiter. She stands there, aware of them both, and silently over and over she hears Draga saying, ‘I may not always be here. I may not always be here. I may not…’

  They board their horses at Tabantha Bridge Stable a full day later.

It’s a quiet and somewhat isolated outpost perched almost directly on the cliff besides its namesake – narrow arch of wood planking and rope that tenuously spans the dizzying plunge of Tanagar Canyon. So deep is the fissure in some sections of the country, the bottom vanishes into a deeper, darker layer of cloud and mist that seems it could very well be the migratory path of draconic beasts. Tabantha Bridge is the only permanent bridge linking the plains of Hyrule Ridge to the snowy region of Hebra and therefore, an essential waypoint for merchants and travelers of all variety.

They take day packs and hike out to the far edge of the canyon at the foot of Mount Rhoam, far from the bridge itself, and set up a comfortable spot for themselves on a wide jut of stone overlooking the canyon course. Zelda lays down several blankets within minute Draga has produced alcohol from a deceptively small flask that tingles when Zelda takes draft from it. She suspects, somewhat, that it’s enchanted in the way Link’s travel satchel is enchanted and carries far more than its dimensions should allow.

So, getting increasingly more drunk, they watch the color leech from the sky.

Turns out Link isn’t a talkative drunk.

After quite a few long draughts from the flask, however, Link does discard all sense of personal space. So he’s presently trying to climb on Draga’s back and Zelda – eating a small bag of candied fruit – makes absolutely no move to help. Link keeps saying something about ‘higher ground’ as he clambers their giant friend the way he might climb a rock face. Draga doesn’t seem amused. He pries at the smaller man with little success, Link clinging, tenacious as a limpet. He gives it up until Link is literally sitting on his left shoulder, squinting across the plains with the attitude of a mountaineer surveying the country.

Draga sighs and loops a hand over Link’s knee to keep him from tipping. He eyes the impetuous Hero of Hyrule with a long, calculated stare that is surely counting down to the moment he flings Link into the dirt. But he makes no move to do so. His hand on Link’s thigh is so large that his fingers very nearly encircle his leg just above his knee.

“I could throw you like a shotput,” Draga reminds him.

Link says, loudly, “Don’t be a drag, Draga.”

The Gerudo gives him this look like Link’s immediate future as a human bolo is forthcoming.

“Are you certain the dragon comes this way?”

 “Yes,” he says.

“When?”

“Very late at night. Or very early in the morning.”

Draga promptly torques to the left and flings Link to the ground next to Zelda. Zelda, still eating candied fruit, moves the bag out of the way so it doesn’t get crushed when Link rolls onto his back and lies there, a little red-faced, on the blanket. Draga takes a seat at the far edge of the blanket, the small campfire to the side casting relief on the three of them, the full moon laying silver highlight across the grassy slope up Mount Rhoam. Link points at the moon and signs.

‘I keep thinking it’ll turn red.’

Draga looks up, stunned. “The blood moons have stopped now that Calamity is gone.”

Zelda tilts her head. “Yes. You didn’t know that?”

Draga runs a hand through his hair, the wind ruffling some of the shorter bits. “I did, I just now realized that’s directly attributable to you two.”

Zelda does a little half bow/wave combo. Link gives a thumbs up.

“I take it back.” Draga lies back on the ground, lacing his fingers behind his head. “It’s not that impressive.”

“We probably should not be drinking if we’re trying to spot a dragon,” Zelda points out. “I’m already sleepy.”

‘They aren’t dangerous,’ Link signs.

“Wake me if dragons show up,” says Draga, closing his eyes and with a soldier’s immediacy, falls asleep.

Zelda prods the sole of his boot with her toe and gets no response. Link laughs, but silently, shoulders shaking a little. Zelda sits up so she can crawl over and peer down at Draga who, yes, appears to have completely dropped to sleep in the span of one moment and the next. She satisfies herself that it’s so by mock lunging and waving her hands inches from his face. Nothing. She sits back on her heels, examining their friend’s sleeping face. In consciousness, Draga’s neutral expressions are somewhat severe, lending him a default mien of someone vaguely irritated, just on the verge of a scowl. In sleep, the edges smooth away; you might notice his eyelashes are a little long, or that his hair curls where it get loose from the braids and clasps. Zelda has to resist a small, familiar impulse to smooth his hair flat where it’s sticking up.

She catches Link in the corner of her eye, signing.

‘I think we can break the curse.’

Zelda, glancing warily at Draga, signs back, ‘We should respect his wishes.’

Link sighs and flops back down, running his hands over his face. He signs, from his back, ‘We could fight it.’

Zelda moves to kneel beside him, leaning over her fallen knight so she can sign down at him. ‘I don’t know how to fight it.’

Link tilts his head. He’s so much smoother with his hand signals. ‘I think you did pretty well.’

She gives up on sign. “I didn’t know what I was doing. It was just… in the moment.”

Link grins. ‘You shouted down a demon.’

“I did not.”

He shrugs, makes a lazy one-handed gesture that translates, thereabouts: ‘I liked it.’

Link’s still grinning. His smiles linger longer, stick more easily when he’s tacky with liquor and slower to rein in the translation of emotions to body language, like drink gums up the gears that tell him to be stone before the eyes of others. A breeze rising from the valley ruffles Link’s bangs slightly. He’s a little more slack than usual, a warm fluidity born of drunkness and, she thinks, happiness. He’s been lighter since their talk at the creek. Quicker to smile and take to a joke. The firelight’s putting little strands of gold into his hair. He smiles up at her.

Zelda is not sure how it happens, or what part of her mind goes into automatic movement but the impulse – always there, vaguely, unformed and unexamined – comes to the forefront of her brain and asserts control. She places one hand on the blanket by Link’s head, bracing herself so he’s beneath her, looking up at her. He watches her, curiously, and begins to mouth a word. Lips parting on something, a question maybe or –

She kisses him.

Her lips find his just as his voice finds his throat. The vibrato comes across his teeth, settles in the bones of her face and it’s so unexpected she jerks back immediately, as if shocked. Link stares at her, half braced on his elbows in the attitude of rising, eyes wide in the dark, his lips still parted on whatever he was going to say before she put her tongue in his mouth and caught his voice against the back of his teeth. He can’t seem to get it back – rendered all again mute by her.

“I’m sorry!” Zelda covers her mouth with her hands. Horror possesses every fiber in her body and knots them up. “I didn’t – I’m sorry! I’m drunk! I didn’t mean that!”

Link sits up very slowly, expression… odd. His lower lip is a little swollen. She shakes her head, whispering.

“I don’t know why I did that.”

He keeps staring at her.

“That wasn’t fair. Oh. That was stupid. I don’t… I guess…. I thought it was funny what you said. Shouting at demons. Oh… that’s not very funny actually.” Panic. She’s panicking. Link’s all blue-eyed and pale and just staring at her and she’s losing her mind right in front of me so of course she rejoins, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It seemed like a good idea! Oh. Why do I keep letting Draga give me alcohol?! Just because I stole his wine that one time and suddenly it’s, like, a challenge of some variety I honestly… I don’t…”

Link is still staring. Zelda gives up entirely and covers her face with two hands, peeking between her fingers, because that will somehow make this less horrible.

Voice muffled, she whispers, “I didn’t ruin things, did I?”

Link stares. Then, “What?”  

“You know… by doing that. Did I… ruin everything?”

Link again, says, “What?”

“Did I break it?”

“It?”

“Us.”

“What?”

They might both be a little too drunk for this.

“You know!” Zelda flaps a hand. “With the kiss.”

Link stares.

Then he promptly bursts into laughter.

Which, given how appalled she is, seems almost offensive – him amused in the face of her utter mortification and crisis. Link falls over on his side and lies there gasping, hair in his eyes, just lost in laughter. It occurs to Zelda that she’s never seem him laugh like that – that he’s very, very different when he’s breathless and smiling and loud even in a passing moment and in this passing moment, Zelda’s heart seems to constrict in her chest. Suddenly, she’s very glad she decided to kiss him if for no other reason than this.

Eventually, Link stops laughing.

Zelda lies down on the blanket facing him, smoothing her hair in annoyance.

Link signs, carefully, ‘You can’t break us.’

“Can’t I?” she whispers.

He looks at her. Then says, calmly, “No.”

And she doesn’t know what to say, so she says, “I might sleep this off and miss the dragon.”

Link shakes his head. He signs, ‘It’s a dragon.’

“Technically, it’s a spirit.”

‘You’d going to miss seeing a DRAGON.’

She shrugs, closing her eyes. “We have time.”

.

.

.

go to chapter 6...

[dirtj0b]

More journal crap! This one is about my plants. (Not important, just notes!)

I keep wanting to write a new journal but keep ending up busy or asleep for the past couple days... I’m not sure how long this one will be. Probably long... I’ll break it into parts! This one will be about plants, and I’ll write the other one about spirit stuff.

First of all, I’m sorry I’ve been taking so many pictures of my plants... I am just so incredibly proud of them, I want to show them to everyone. I cannot believe that I grew most of these myself, it feels unreal. They’re all getting so big! Especially the morning glories... One of them, I measured, grew two inches in just a day! I am so proud, so prouuudd.

A few of them still aren’t feeling well... One of the ferns recovered nicely, and one of them is getting steadily worse... Since I bought the sick one from Walmart, I... Don’t know if the care instructions are correct, and honestly, it doesn’t list a proper name on it (just fern I think) so it’s a bit tough to look it up... I can’t tell if it wants more or less light, but I feel like the light must be part of the problem! I just repotted both ferns... The one I was originally most worried about was... The whole pot was packed with the roots, they were so compacted in there that it took me more than 20 minutes to get them somewhat separated so it would feel better in a new pot... I was almost certain that it wouldn’t make it, but here we are a few days later, and it’s recovered!

The other fern is... Sort of crispy looking... Maybe it’s getting too much light? The tag that was in the pot said “full sun” but should I really trust it...? I’m gonna look up more info, I don’t know a lot about ferns... 

Come to think of it, I don’t know much of anything about plants in general, I’m really just... Figuring this out as I go on.

Icup is still feeling under the weather, but appears to be recovering! There was a mishap last night, though... He fell from the shelf and landed directly on my aloe plant, crushing some of the leaves... I’m worried about the aloe, it’s pretty tough, but...

Icup fell out of the pot. Apparently roses are sturdy as fuck, but because of this I was able to see that the roots still haven’t spread past the original size of his pot... The reason I named it Icup is that it came in a tiny teacup shaped pot, about two inches wide. Very small... It seemed to be doing well, but got sick pretty suddenly a week or so again. I think this was my fault, but it hasn’t been growing as fast as my other roses, and now I think I know why! I mussed the roots up a little and repotted it, also I added a tiny bit of pearlite to the soil because I read that roses like that. 

I fertilized the other three roses, and pruned off all the dead bits... Despite a few setbacks, they are definitely growing larger! I was really worried about the unnamed rose, but it’s getting better! Only one stem is still alive on that one, but considering I was certain it was going to die... The one stem has a fuckton of leaves now, I’m glad. I asked King if he wanted to name that one, and he tried to suggest a name, but I only got part of it (Pari- (??)) and so it remains nameless for now. Finding out new words from spirits is tough sometimes...

Glorm and Deathblade are doing great! I think Glorm might be working on some new flowersssssss...

I bought a pot for my wisteria today... It’s getting really big... I still haven’t taken the poor thing out of the bag it came in. The weather where I live is... Unpredictable... It has started snowing here again. Now that I know that most wisteria can’t survive this... Well, I’m glad I didn’t plant it outside yet, but I feel bad for buying it so early and letting it sit in a bag. I think it’s gonna be ok, though!

The poppies I bought for J are doing shitty. They were sick when I bought them, but I hoped that repotting would help them out... They still don’t look so good. I’m not sure what else to do, yet... I added some fertilizer.

The big morning glories, the fuzzy ones, are growing incredibly fast. I have NEVER seen a plant grow this fast. King seems to particularly like those ones, too. They are the same ones that were tangled in my hair when I woke up that one day, pff. I put them in a large pot together, with a tall-ish bit of trellis in the middle. They seem to love it. They’ve already grown about four inches (maybe more?) since I put them in there... I am proud of them! I think the fuzziness of the vines is cute, too. They’re very soft, I kind of want to sit around petting them. Some of the leaves are fuzzy, too. It reminds me of how peaches are fuzzy.

The morning glories in the planter are growing up past the lights, now. I wonder if I should move the lights up higher? There were a couple casualties... About three of the smaller ones seem to have passed away. I’m pretty sad about it, but there are so many of them, I guess it would have been unrealistic to hope they would all make it...

The largest sunflower is feeling well again, but now lays horizontally. I’m not sure how to fix this. I’m going to try attaching it to a stick. Poor thing... It’s getting bigger, though! The other sunflowers didn’t make it... I need to try harder. I’m frustrated that I let them get sick.

The sage and snap peas are doing fuck awful. I’m not sure what to do for them. They were really root bound when I got them from the nursery, and so I put them in new pots, but they are just sort of slowly getting sicker. I must have done something wrong... They are under full sun and I water them a little bit every day. Except today, the sage’s soil seemed too damp so I didn’t water it...

The mint that Fish gave me is growing well! The rosemary I got is also doing very well. I wonder if I should clip some of it? I don’t know much about herbs... I also got lavender seeds and was thinking about growing some of it inside, but we will seeeee.

My orchid is doing well! Nothing to report there. The poppy in the window is tiny but also doing well. I hope it survives. The garlic in my room seems like it’s doing great, as well! I like it, it smells like... Garlic. The moon flowers are growing incredibly slow, but they seem really healthy! The leaves are such a dark color, it’s really nice. I’m going to repot the biggest one, soon. King seems to particularly like the moon flowers as well, and he picked out a pot for them himself. I was a bit surprised by that... I told him that as payment for a thing he had done he could pick something out from the store, and he chose that. It’s not that he is selfish (ever) or anything, it just surprised me for some reason. Anyway, plants.

One of the succulents didn’t make it. I tried really hard, but in the end nothing was working... Since it was on clearance and in pretty bad shape when I got it, I guess I shouldn’t have had such high hopes. The succulent that Fish got me was also clearance and is doing GREAT (it’s huuuuge now) so I guess I got a little bit cocky and thought I could save it. The velvet plant also didn’t make it... I’m going to try one in a terrarium next time. It just wasn’t holding water for some reason and would become dry so fast, I couldn’t water it fast enough. I’ve never seen that before...

The succulents I’m propagating are doing ok. Not great, but not bad. One of them popped out of the ground and had roots when I looked, so that’s good! A few seem to have dried out and gotten kind of mushy... I’m not sure if I should keep taking care of those or what? Oh well... I got a really large pot to plant the succulents in! It was on clearance because it has a large chip on the bottom. I’m waiting until I move more of my shelves in before I plant them, that way I have somewhere to set it...

I now have two cacti! One is... strange. I’m only assuming it is a cactus because it has some similar traits... Spines, and a really thick “stem”... It also has big leaves growing out of it! And flowers that grow out of the top, small pink ones! The tag only listed it as “upright foliage, assorted”, whatever the fuck that means. Oh well. I repotted it yesterday (drunk) because it had roots coming out the bottom. It seems to be doing well today. My other cactus is... Also a mystery, but definitely a cactus. I named it Dagoth Ur, because it is red and black and kind of stripey looking, with spikes on each edge. I don’t know what it is, but I like it.

I got a butterwort! It grows faster than I expected. I’ve only had it a few days, but it’s already caught a bunch of flies (YESSSS) and has three new leaves! I don’t know what the hell butterwort likes, but it seems to be getting it.

The snake plant is hiding in my hamper, and it’s doing fine as always... It’s getting big, though. The nephthytis is doing great as well! I feel like maybe it could use some more light, so I’ll work on that. I’m hoping to buy another plant light soon, but options have been a bit... Inconvenient. I really like the one I have with the roses, which has a clamp to hold it onto the shelf. It also casts a cool glow on the ceiling, in light pink and blue. It’s pleasant. 

Anyway, the last plant I can think of is my english ivy, which apparently doesn’t need shit. It’s doing fine. It gets very little light and never seems to need water, but it’s still doing really well. I’m not sure what’s up with that plant, I heard they were hard to keep alive. Ah, well. I won’t complain about that! I did hit my head on it a few days ago, while I was trying to hang something up. 

...That’s about it, I think. I have so many plants, now. I don’t even know how many I have anymore. Surely I have more than 47, now. Maybe I’ll get double anxiety? I’m pretty excited, I hope that the morning glories will bloom, soon. Since there are so many different varieties, I am sure that it’s going to look amazing. My friend mentioned that wisteria doesn’t bloom for a few years, usually... That makes me kind of sad, but I can try to be patient! Maybe if I take really good care of it it will bloom faster! Probably not, but I can hope.

I really want to get a pitcher plant to help with all these flies... My home is... Well. I’m not sure where the flies come from. They’ve been here for years. They’ve survived two bug bombings, and always come back. They don’t bite or anything, and I’ve never seen larvae or eggs around... They’re just sort of gross. I don’t like it when they land on me when I’m sleeping, either. Eugh. I guess I prefer flies to spiders, but still. I almost bought a fucking praying mantis nest and released them into my kitchen, but I... Had some reservations about that. For obvious reasons. I hope the flies go away eventually. ...I don’t know why I’m talking about flies.

Sorry that was fucking long.

TL;DR - Five million plants are in my house. Five million plants inside of my house are becoming large. Two of the plants tried to strangle me in my sleep. One of the plants attacked my head. Some of the plants died of natural (?) causes... Two of the plants killed each other. Flies.