He was clinging onto me, his nails digging into my arms leaving curved dents. He started to double over, wincing and choking back a cry. I didn’t have a clue what to do, all we had access to was the lab downstairs with machines I didn’t even know existed. He was almost silent the whole time apart from some groans and sharp intakes of air, leaving me unable to want to move him or cause him more pain. He looked up, his eyes half open but fluttering shut sometimes as if his life has been sucked away from him, leaving him vulnerable and only able to feel what's left in him – pain. I held him still, looking at the rooftop door, calculating how far it would be for me to carry him back to the lab. The wind has started to pick up and I could only imagine how deafening it must be, if he’s even aware of his surroundings at all. I put his arm around my shoulder and try to slowly walk him back to the door. Just as we had taken the first few steps, his legs went limp and he has lost consciousness, his head falling down. My heartbeat started to pick up as I carried him to the door and into the lift. As the doors beeped closed, I let him rest in the corner. His what seemed lifeless body slumped down. I sat next to him, supporting his head on my shoulder.
As I noticed something unusual, I lifted up his face, seeing a thick trail of blood running down from his nose. Obviously something was wrong, only a fool wouldn’t notice, but I didn’t know what to do apart from give him rest which he definitely needs more than.
We reached the lab and I lay him down on the bed and wipe his nose with a tissue. At that moment, one of the doctors rushed into the room, panic washed over her face. “What has happened?” She ran to one of the desked and pulled out a needle and began to fill it with a certain liquid I haven’t seen before. “We were on the rooftop, he started to feel dizzy. After a couple of minutes he was bending over in pain, unable to speak or move. He then lost consciousness and had the nose bleed.”
The doctor finished getting the liquid in the needle and runs to Hua Yong. She pulls up his sleeve and pushes the needle in, injecting it into his veins. “I’m not completely sure what has happened, I have my suspisions…” She pauses, “But it is part of classified information I can't speak of. I assume he has lost consciousness from the pain. His body may not have been able to take what was happening and just shut down. He should be fine with the injection but may not wake for a while, keep an eye on him and call me back when he is conscious again for me to run checks on him. I’ve put him on a drip, don’t let him take it off.” I watched her walk out the lab, leaving the empty needle on the table next to him.
My heart never fully calmed down from the moment he was in pain until now.
I sat there with no rest for another 11 hours, him not even stirring. I sat on the edge of the bed watching Hua Yong for any signs of anything that could mean something.
I stood back up, walking to the back of the room, facing the wall. All of a sudden, I heard someone splutter behind me. I turned around running straight to the bed, kneeling down beside it. Bile covered the bed around him, large spots of blood covering it. He had thrown up in his sleep, choking on it. He sat straight up, gasping for air as his lifeless eyes slowly turned to look at me. “Mr…Sheng. What happened?” He looked at the drip and the Bile covered sheets.
“I’m not sure, the doctor suspects something but didn’t tell me because of ‘classified information’? What could you be hiding from me?” there was more anger in my voice than I wanted there to be but my question still stood.
“Apparently there’s more than I don’t know either, considering this.” He spoke wearily.
“You were doing tests on yourself? What was the need? All of us are fine, why do you need to do this?” I sat on the chair next to the bed.
“There were still things I needed answers for, about what happened with you and Peanut, and still answers I need now.” He looked back down at his hand to pull the drip out.
We stood up at the same time with just enough time for me to catch him. Hua Yong stumbled back and clutched his head with the other hand clutching at my arm again. I lunge forwards and hold him as coughs, more thick blood slowly dripping from the side of his mouth. I frantically usher him to lie back down but he held onto my wrist. “Just give me more time to figure out what went wrong.” He tries to pull my wrist down so he could get past but he stumbled forwards, almost falling again.
“No. You need rest. Just lie down until the doctor comes back.” I wanted to tell him sternly but more worry came out than expected. I sigh and sit down next to him. “Who are you doing this for?”
“It’s always for you Mr. Sheng.” He replies raspily
“If it’s for me, then rest. Recover until you can tell me what’s going on. Why are you trying to fix a problem that you aren’t even sure exists?”
I move the chair closer to the bed and put my hands in Hua Yong’s and rest my head down onto his stomach. “The doctor said she will be back soon. Sleep until then.” I whisper. Soon, Hua Yong’s breathing went back to normal.
Hua Yong sat on the sofa, holding a mug and staring blankly at the TV, not paying attention to what’s going on. Two steaming bowls of soup waited patiently on the table as the clock ticked on.
The lock of the door clicks open as Shao You walks in, gently closing the door behind him and resting his bag on the floor. “I’m back.” He looks over to the bowls on the table, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting that long, the soup looks nice.”
Hua Yong walks over and smiles with a tired look on his face. “It hasn’t gone cold yet, you’re right on time.” He goes to sit down just as Shao You grabs his arm and pulls Hua Yong towards him, wrapping his arms around his waist. “You seem tired, you didn’t have to cook, you know.
“Im not that tired.” He pulls free from Shao You’s hug and sits down, starting to eat the steaming soup. “Peanut has gone to bed, the house should be more peaceful now.”
Shao You chuckles. “The office was busy today, can’t imagine what it would’ve been like for you.”
“It wasn’t that bad actually, it seems you're doing better nowadays.”
After the soup had been finished, Shao You stood up, picking up the empty bowls and taking them to the sink. “I will probably relax for an hour or so, then… we can go to bed early?”
“Ok.” Hua Yong closes his eyes halfway as if imagining the warmth of the bed already. He walks over to Shao You washing the bowls and wraps his hands around his waist and leans his head on his shoulder from behind. Shao You flinches, dropping the bowl and taking a deep intake of air through his teeth, accidently running his arm through the hot water. “Ugh!” He steps back, his skin turning redder.
“Mr. Sheng!” Hua Yong takes his arm and runs it under cold water. “How did I hurt you?”
“It’s just… something that happened to my shoulder at work, it’s fine.” He winces at the pain from the burn.
“Something happened at the office?” Hua Yong’s face darkens. “What do you…”
“Just sit down on the couch or something, I don’t want you getting hurt from the shards.”
“You can pick them up in a minute, just let me sort you out, first.” Hua Yong takes his other wrist and pulls him to the couch, bringing over the first aid kit. He sits beside him, opening the box and taking out the burn cream. “This should help, give me your wrist.” Hua Yong holds his wrist out as he applies it, gently blowing on it after to set it. “Now, your shoulder. What happened? Who did it?”
Shao You unbuttons his shirt enough to reveal the wound on his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what happened, the wound isn’t even that big.”
Hua Yong looks at his with half dissapointment and half anger. “It does matter actually. I’m your husband and you won’t even tell me who hurt you.” He pouts and goes back to cleaning Shao You’s wound.
“You’re not mad are you?” Shao You laughs and takes Hua Yong’s hand away and holds it.
“I’m not mad at you, just… whoever did it.”
Shao You puts the box on the floor and rests his head on Hua Yong’s lap. “In any case, I have you to take care of me, right?” He strokes Hua Yong’s hand with his thumb.
“Hmmm. You’re lucky.”
“Let’s go to bed early. We’re both tired, and an injured person needs their rest, right?” Shao You stands up and pulls Hua Yong up, leading him to the room. “Your ready, so you can switch the light off, I’ll shower and come back.
10 minutes later, Shao You steps back into the room, seeing the lights off and Hua Yong sleeping. He opens the covers slightly and sits down. Hua Yong wakes from the movement and rests his head on Shao You’s chest.
“Did I wake you up?”
“Hmmmm. What happened to the broken bowls.” Hua Yong tiredly rasps.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve cleaned it up.” Shao You sinks more into the bed, one of his hands holding Hua Yong’s and the other stroking his hair. “Go back to sleep.”
Summary: Kaburamaru can’t seem to keep himself from sneaking away to your home, mortifying a very frustrated Obanai.
Obanai x F! Reader
Fluff
Warnings: None. Maybe some suggestiveness if you squint really hard. Obanai has a crush, that’s it
Art: stolen from my fav @deathmetaldreams @windingserpentslash
The halls are silent, rug-adorned floorboards absorbing the soft patter of sandals grazing against intricately woven fibers.
The air is still, peaceful in the way your home usually is. This stillness isn’t of discomfort, but of the warmth that the throws of late spring invite. Lively birds chirp happily in the distance, adding to the glow and serenity of the peaceful estate.
A man of diminutive stature glides through your home stealthily, as if the halls were committed to memory, his striped haori slicing through the heated morning air like a sharpened knife cuts through fluffy buttercream cake.
You’re still sleeping peacefully at this hour, hugging your pillow close and nuzzling a bit deeper under the covers, completely unaware of the ghostly reptile that had slithered its way into your home and under your blankets.
The shoji door slides open carefully, dual-colored eyes landing on your sleeping form, observing the slight rise and fall of your breathing, taking you in in your most vulnerable state.
Obanai Iguro shifts carefully at the entryway, heat rising to his cheeks in frustration. He knew he was here, felt him in a way only two very close companions can feel, and it was no coincidence that he seemed to always find his fiercely intelligent pet in your home.
But for Obanai, this was getting annoying.
“Kaburamaru, get over here. Now.”
The words rumble low as to avoid waking you, slightly muffled from under his bandages.
No response from the usually lively creature.
Obanai’s fists clench at his side, feeling disobeyed and embarrassed at being put in this predicament yet again by his most trusted companion.
“Kaburamaru.”
This time, the little head of the expressive white-scaled serpent peaks from the head of the bed, hovering just above your face, his little pink tongue peaking out and retracting just as quickly in a silent “what’s up?”
Iguro’s eyes widen, a vein pulsating at the side of his temple.
Kaburamaru blinks.
Your body shifts, limbs stretching awkwardly as your eyes begin to flutter in impending consciousness.
Obanai stiffens at the doorway, inwardly relieved that he made no attempt to step closer in order to obtain his stubborn friend, but still mortified at the situation nonetheless.
Your lips stretch open in a yawn as your eyes fully open to register the room, breath hitching in your chest as your sleepy mind comes to process the weight on the side of your neck and the stoic man at your door.
—silence
Obanai makes no move or gesture as to why he’s there, his mind going blank at the realization that he’s been caught in your home uninvited yet again.
This was not his usual behavior and he hated how this made him appear. If it were up to him, he’d never talk to you, never be in your presence as he despised how his mind and body seemed to have a will of its own whenever you were in even a 50-ft radius. He also hated witnessing the other Corps members around you— hated how Sanemi’s arm conveniently seemed to always wrap itself around you, hated how Muichiro clung to you like a lost puppy, hated how Mitsuri sang your name and showered you with hugs and kisses at every opportunity, hated how Gyomei gave you head pats and acknowledged you, hated how Tengen openly flirted with you and commented on your beauty, hated how Shinobu always found a reason to invite you to her estate and check on you, hated how effortlessly you laughed and blushed around Kyojuro, hated how even Giyuu—the silent, introverted creep that he was—spoke to you and hovered close.
Obanai Iguro hated how everyone could openly express their love to you when he couldn’t.
If it wasn’t obvious, he was not one who communicated fluently. He kept things curt, blunt in a way that left no room for questioning. And ever since he noticed how his fingers trembled around you, and how his heart seemed to pick up the pace when you entered a room, he decided it was best that he avoided you as much as humanly possible.
That is until Kaburamaru made it his mission to frequently invite himself in your home.
To this very moment, Obanai still hadn’t the slightest clue as to why the snake took such a liking to you and why he was so incessant on dragging his master all the way to the warm space that smelled and imbued every essence of you.
Was this some kind of crude joke?
“Oh, goodmorning—”
You mumble sleepily as you try to move to sit up, noticing the resting serpent on your shoulder.
Even in the fog of your residual slumber, your voice is music to his ears.
Obanai’s heartbeat picks up the pace.
“Hi. I came to retrieve Kaburamaru, I didn’t mean to disturb—”
“It’s no trouble at all! He seems to like it here.”
You reassure as you raise a hand to pet the friendly snake, giggling at the tickly feeling of his lithe body slithering against your skin as he wounds around you tighter in reptilian affection.
Obanai takes a step forward, his patience running dangerously thin as the discomfort of his quickening heart rate and blood flow start to settle in.
“Kaburamaru! It’s time to go now.”
The snake draws his attention from your affections to his master, giving him a slow blink and a tongue peek-a-boo to signify “I heard you the first time.”
You free an arm to push the covers to the side, standing, and gracefully padding across the room to meet Obanai at the door, unwrapping Kaburamaru and presenting him to the striking serpent pillar.
Obanai’s mind seemed to go completely blank for a moment, not registering anything after you moved the blankets and stood in a nightdress that was agonizingly small. He didn’t even know nightwear came that small.
The thin satin fabric pulled taut over your luscious body, stretching painfully over your heavy breasts and subtly wide hips. Every step you took made the fabric ride higher and higher, not even bothering to hide the soft plush of your rear anymore, leading down the mile-long path of your bare legs, skin smooth and even, unhidden by uniform socks.
Your hair was slightly tousled from sleep, but still fell beautifully around your shoulders, remnants of slumber evident in the corner of your eye and in the slight swell of your lips.
Obanai thought you were the definition of a morning goddess. He thought he was going to die.
Your head tilts slightly at his hesitation, a friendly smirk stretching your lips as a hand comes up to grab his scaly companion, fingers visibly trembling.
“Thank you.”
He says so lowly that you barely even register it.
You blink, a toothy grin gracing your face.
“Kaburamaru is always welcome, he knows that.”
Obanai gives a stiff nod of his head, choppy black locks swaying with the movement. He turns to leave, the back of his striped haori facing you as he exits the now too-small space.
“You are always welcome as well, Iguro!” you blurt, heat crawling up your neck, ears tingling in embarrassment.
His steps halt.
—silence
You shift uncomfortably as the air stills.
“You’re welcome to stay if you want. Are you hungry?”
—more silence
Kaburamaru turns to peak his head in your direction, tongue slithering out and retracting, tiny cherry-dot eyes peering at you.
Obanai turns to face you again, expression slightly softer and kinder under his mask.
“Got anything good for Kaburamaru?”
(A/N: I just learned from Google that snakes don’t blink so don’t eat me up for this one! Decided to publish this quickie instead of doing my homework XD
I am in crisis rn I am unable to write smut idk if it’s because I’m not *cough cough* active irl or what but, these little fluffy quickies are all I’m capable of rn. Don’t hate me ily xoxo bye!)
Hua Yong x Gao Tu (and all the traditional pairings are there too; but this is basically Hua Yong falling into friendship and obsession with the most hardworking fake Beta in the company)
Hua Yong decides that politeness might not be the way to go. Time for some harsh truths. "It's your heat", he says bluntly. "I can smell it on you. The suppressants are no longer enough to cover it up."
As suspected, Gao Tu tries to slam the door in his face. When Hua Yong does not let him, the anxiety spikes into fear.
"I want to help you", he continues, trying to alleviate his worries. It doesn't take much to push Gao Tu's hand away and slip inside. Some conversations are better not held outside for the eyes and ears of nosy neighbours.
~°~°~°~
During his time at HS group – and much to Wenlang's chargrin – Hua Yong accidentally befriends Secretary Gao. If his friend will not take care of the overworked Omega posing as a Beta, Hua Yong's obsessive tendencies are flexible enough.
I like how Hua Yong said he was NOT Shen Wenlang's friend as if he hasn't been hanging out with that loser man for close to a decade, knows his whole tragic family history because he was right there living it with him, bankrolled his promising business, schemed together when he wanted to snag his S-tier Alpha, roasted him for being a virgin in love with his bestie, and called him all the time including when he had to go to the hospital TWICE.
Like . . . bitch, that's your motherfucking worstie for life!
Shen Wenlang is not Hua Yong's friend because he is that little freak's soulmate. Who else would learn that Hua Yong had to see multiple doctors to learn how to cry and just *shrug* about it? In fact, Shen Wenlang thought that shit was funny! That's a worstie! They aren't trying to change each other for the better. Shen Wenlang probably immediately assumed Hua Yong killed those kidnappers and isn't surprised since he probably knows where Hua Yong buries most of the people he kills. I want to be sad about the possible separation between Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu, but Hua Yong's stalking ass will know exactly where Gao Tu is because Hua Yong is fucking batshit crazy!
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All of my works are 18 + Only | Minors DNI
Currently Working On:
Attack On Titan:
The Devil In Your Eyes: In this modern AU, Eren, a magnetic political science major, and Aurora, a gentle pharmacy student, find each other in a world untouched by war. Their soulmate spark ignites at a chaotic college dinner, a fleeting moment that feels like destiny where their instant connection proves they’re meant to be, no matter the timeline, in a tale as tender as it is electric.
Spinoff Sequel to The Devil's Bride (Eren x OC)
Conquered: He conquered the world. Now, he wants to conquer you.
Emperor Eren Jaeger rules the globe as an undisputed tyrant, his power absolute, his boredom a force as destructive as his armies. During a routine conquest of another insignificant village, his bored gaze lands on you in the smoke and terror.
He sees your defiant spirit, a spark of unbroken fire in a world that has learned to grovel.
Intrigued, he makes you a devastating offer: your life in his palace in exchange for sparing your home and your family. You are forced to accept, becoming the seventh addition to his harem, a "guest" in his golden cage.
But you soon learn that the other concubines are a nest of vipers, and the palace's gilded halls hide a new kind of warfare. Eren doesn't just want your body; he wants to dismantle your will. He's not interested in a simple capture—he wants to play a game. And in this terrifying, psychological battle, the line between your burning hatred and a new, horrifying fascination begins to blur. (Eren x Reader)
Demon Slayer:
Liquid Sunlight: In Taisho-era Japan, Fujisaki Leila is an outcast twice over, for the color of her skin, and for a spirit that refuses to break. Sold by her cruel aunt into an abusive arranged marriage, Leila sees her life as a cage preparing to lock forever. On the eve of her wedding, she chooses the only freedom she has left: she runs.
Her desperate flight from one monster leads her directly into the path of another. She doesn't find safety in the dark woods, but instead comes face-to-face with Akaza. Yet, instead of the swift death she expects, Leila is met with a strange and terrifying mercy.
A fragile, impossible bond forms between the runaway bride and the disciplined demon, a connection that forces Akaza to confront the last vestiges of his buried humanity. But their forbidden love is a heresy in a world at war, making them enemies of both the Demon Slayer Corps and the demonic forces of Kibutsuji Muzan. (Akaza x OC)
The Moon & The Stars: Michikatsu Tsugikuni is a man slowly dying of perfection. Bound by the rigid codes of the samurai, a loveless marriage, and the suffocating brilliance of his twin brother, the Sun, he exists in a world of grey duty. He is the heir. He is the husband. He is the prisoner.
Then he meets Seira.
A former courtesan turned traveling singer, Seira is everything the Tsugikuni estate is not: vibrant, chaotic, and unapologetically free. She is the first person to look at Michikatsu and see the man, not the shadow.
Drawn together by a shared darkness, they begin a dangerous affair that risks his honor, his clan, and his sanity. But as Michikatsu learns to embrace the night, he must decide if he is willing to burn down his life to keep the woman who makes him feel alive. (Michikatsu (Human Kokushibo) x OC)
Muzan's Heart: One thousand years. To a human, it was history. To a demon, it was merely an accumulation of nights. But for Kibutsuji Muzan, this specific date was a blade that had not dulled in a millennium.
On the anniversary of the only death that ever mattered, Muzan reflects on the Heian era, the promise of a Blue Spider Lily, and the girl who loved a dying boy before he became a monster (Muzan x OC)
To Archive A Flame: Yomihime, Upper Rank Two, is a creature born of silence. She possesses the power to rewrite reality itself, turning the battlefield into her own personal manuscript.
She finds humans boring. Readable. Finite.
Until she meets the Flame Hashira.
Rengoku is loud, bright, and impossibly warm. He is the first "character" she cannot edit. He is the first story she doesn't want to end.
Obsessed with preserving his light before it burns out, Yomihime decides she doesn't want to kill him. She wants to Archive him.
Or: A story about a monster made of trauma falling in love with the sun. (Rengoku x OC)
The Spear & The Shield: "You hate them because you love what they destroy. I saw you during the spar. I saw your heart. You cover it in scars and anger, but the core of it... it is very warm."
Sanemi Shinazugawa is the Wind: abrasive, violent, and scarred by a lifetime of loss. Asami Hikari is the newly appointed Sky Hashira: gentle, oblivious, and possessing a terrifying defensive mastery born from a tragedy she barely survived.
When Oyakata-sama pairs the Corps' ultimate offense with its absolute defense, Sanemi expects a burden. What he finds is the only person who can see past his rage to the man beneath—and the only person fast enough to catch him when he falls.
A story of healing, ohagi, and the terrifying power of kindness. (Sanemi x OC)
Savoring The Wind: One literal collision was all it took to leave Sanemi Shinazugawa branded. Between a ruined haori and a lipstick-stained address, the Wind Hashira finds himself at the mercy of the Head Chef of Akazuki. You aren't intimidated by his scars or his temper, and with a menu that has the entire Hashira corps on their knees, Sanemi is about to learn that some fires are better left to burn. (Sanemi x Reader)
Stories on Indefinite Hiatus:
Red Regrets: (Levi x OC)
The Soldier & The Daisy: (Levi x OC)
Damaged: (Levi x OC)
Throne of Flowers: (Mikasa x OC)
Baby Daddy: (Levi x Black OC)
Coming Soon:
Completed Stories:
A Soft Place: (Levi x Plus Sized OC)
Tides of Fate: (Eren, Levi, Floch, Jean, Armin, Connie, Bertholdt, Reiner x OCs)
Steadfast Hearts: (Levi x OC)
The Ballad Of The Magenta Witch (Eren x OC)
Diamond Of The First Water (Levi x OC)
The Legendary Black Cat (Levi x OC)
The Devil's Bride (Eren x OC)
One Shots:
Eren x Reader
The Dumpster Behind The Club
Karma
Power Trip
Owned: Eren x Reader - AU Series
Levi x Reader
Letting Go
Heavy Lifting
Velvet Heat
Steamy
Demon Slayer One-Shots:
The Kindest Eyes (Giyu x Reader): (Part One) (Part Two)
A blessing cursed. A curse blessed. More bad than good. One path seeps into another both unfortunate and unyielding. For better or for worse. (Yokai Yoriichi x Reader)
Yoriichi's route. It will be shorter than Bleeding Moonlight.
(Warnings for spicy stuff mentioned but no explicit stuff, Red Light District stuff but again no explicit description, harassment mentioned, death mentioned, etc. Y/n IS an adult just to clarify.)
Remember if you wanna be added to the taglist lemme know.
UGLY.
Unpleasant or repulsive, especially in appearance.
That was the definition of the word. 'Ugly.' To be repulsive to all that perceive the person or object's appearance as such. A lot of things in this unkind world were considered universally ugly. Rotting food, rats, and the occasional black eye were nothing but a few examples of the ugly. After all the most valuable things to man were beautiful. The shiny of gold. The shimmering of precious jewels. The elongated strokes of paints on a canvas.
So many things held dear were quite lovely. Beautiful. Gorgeous and pleasing to the eye.
After all it made sense. Why would someone chose to pick weeds over flowers with bright petals and sweet aroma? That's how it has always been and that's how it always will be. Growing up in a world where beauty measured how valuable you were- How much worth a soul had. A cruel reality no child had to go through but one many learnt regardless of the place they resided in. It had many names.
Red Light District. Entertainment District. E District. Pleasure District.
Regardless of what anyone called it, many of the occupants called it hell. After all barely anyone would enjoy living here. As the phrase goes 'nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live here' and it was true. With a beautiful or even good face, you'd be given luxuries that only lasted as long as you didn't either and if you average you were lucky enough to make enough money to get by. However the ones on the bottom of the barrel?? They were lucky if they were given a merciful job of cleaning up the houses. Children were only burdens being extra mouths to feed. Most were abandoned outright or sold into work. The lucky ones were just ran off by their parents when they were old enough to care for themselves.
She was not one of the fortunate ones.
UGLY.
That's what she was the day she was born. As if the gods decided to have some fun and grant some kind of trickery onto an innocent life. Her feet were too small. Her eyes the wrong color. Her arms and legs too skinny for her oddly pudgy body. Her face was too far, her nose too small, and the list went on from there. An imperfect child. Most would be hesitant to judge of course, after all most children actually grew into their looks but as she grew it was obvious that was never the case.
She was ugly.
Mocked. Shame. Disgust. That is what she learnt from a small age from everyone whom encountered her mother.
"Poor, Fujiko. To have to be cursed with such a horrid looking child like that."
"Yes. It's very baffling considering both her parents were actually decent looking people. It's really quite bizarre..but I suppose even more fortunate people can't have good luck."
"Shush both of you. She'll hear you. She doesn't need to feel anymore bad about it than what she already is."
At a young age she quickly learnt about the gossip. What those scrunched up glares meant. Why so many turned away or whispered to each other when she was near. When her mother took her by the hand and happily walked her through the streets. Why she was harassed with rocks thrown at her, women throwing buckets of dirty water at her, chased her away with brooms, made other children cry at the mere sight of her.
For she was ugly and there wasn't anything she could do about it.
"Don't you cry over their words," her mother would say as she comforted her crying child."Dry your tears. You shouldn't listen to anything they would have to say about how you look. It's not a curse but a blessing. If you were beautiful then everyone in this place would already be clawing to get you. The gods knew you'd be too beautiful for them and blessed you with a way to protect yourself. Like this no one will want to seek you out. You'll be free. Freer than anyone here hopes to be."
"Why did Father die?"
"Because he thought he could escape his family's curse?"
The innocence in those big eyes looking up at her was heartbreaking to the woman as she held the child near. Every day as if it was their last day on earth all the time. Precious time to cherish and hold onto for as long as possible.
"What curse, Mama?"
"Hmm..Well I suppose you're old enough to know in case. A long time ago well before even I was born, your great great grandpa made a rather foolish mistake. He accidentally found an oni stuck in a snare he set out for a rabbit. Instead of killing the oni or running away, he let him go. You see it was his blind kindness that was his downfall."
"Why?"
"Because the oni decided to bless your Father's family. However onis are not gods. They're not allowed to decide if a mortal soul is allowed to receive such a blessing, so his blessing in fact became a curse. For every member of his family was blessed with a wonderful gift recognized by the age of seven or eight but that gift would ultimately lead to their own downfall."
A far off look came to her eyes. Sad, lonely, longing, but had already made peace with her life at that point as she took a deep breath in and let it out slowly allowing the warmth of her child sitting in her lap to comfort her.
"Your grandfather was very skilled at painting. He could paint beautiful masterpieces but he died because he accidentally purchased paint made from poisonous materials. Your father's sister was blessed with a beautiful singing voice, she could've been a great actress but she died because a jealous rival slit her throat." A small pause."... There's a way to avoid the curse and not die."
"What's that?"
"No matter what, you must not use whatever talent you're blessed with. If your grandfather had given up painting..If your aunt had just shut her mouth...If your father had just listened to me and had given up on that stupid idea then he wouldn't have suffered."
Little eyes stared at her seemingly frightened."What happened to him?"
"....Your father was an amazing cook. He could fry even the blandest white rice and with just a handful of herbs from the forest floor he could make it into a feast even the emperor would pay for. ..He wanted to use his skill to make money for you, for us so we could live better. He thought he could beat the curse if he just cooked every so often instead of making it his whole life. He used to cook in the houses for measly money....One day the kitchen he was cooking in caught fire when a lantern fell over. Everyone inside was burnt alive..."
Big innocent eyes blinked as arms pulled her from being curled against her chest and held her back. For dark eyes to stare at her in a very serious manner.
"My darling, you are almost at that age when the curse will be upon you like a dog permanently sinking it's fangs into a bone. Whatever you do, whatever happens you must NOT persue it. Not now, not EVER. Whatever it is. Singing, dancing, writing, sewing dresses or even cleaning. You must promise me that you will never EVER give in like your father did. If you do, you'll surely die like the rest."
"I promise, Mama! I don't wanna die!"
A relief sigh fell from her mother's lips as she once more pulled her back into a hug."That's a good girl. Come now. Let's have dinner. The House Master didn't pay me but he let me have the leftover bread and turnips. We'll eat well tonight."
"Mother..Did everyone die from the curse?"
She looked surprised by the question but shook her head."No. Not everyone."
"Who didn't?"
"Well, there's some distant relatives who managed to escape the curse because they never acted on their gifts, and some never married so the curse never spread around thank goodness. But there was your great uncle Yoshi. He was born with rare handsome looks, but I suppose even having a physical gift didn't spare him."
"Why?"
"While he didn't use his charms to woo any noble women or swindle anyone, he was always persued and stalked by desperate women seeming driven mad by his beautiful face. It's a reason he never married and wore a mask til the day he died. Even if you don't die from the curse, it's effects are still felt."
Was that another reason why she was so happy she was ugly the child thought as her mother carried her in her arms. A life of ugliness wasn't a life she wanted but a life of beauty sounded equally as bad, perhaps even more so. Gold attracts but no one would think twice about looking at a dirty rock. Perhaps it was truly a blessing in disguise for her by her mother's will.
"I won't cry anymore. I'll live."
"That's my good girl."
A world of the beautius wasn't glamor as many people thinks it is. For only the lucky are allowed to work as cleaners such as her mother. Sometimes staying away for nights at a time which left her huddled up hiding in her home away from the dangers outside until her mother returned and she had comfort and safety. Which is why one day turned to two. To three. And more. Food running scarce. Water running dry. Hours and hours. She waited for her mother. Once and twice peeling out the window to look for her but quickly ducking away when someone's usual stare was sent to her when they caught her staring. The rumbling in her stomach was getting worse. The self conscious feeling making her seek out an old blanket to cover her head from the world.
However the world would find her soon enough.
A stranger arrived one day as she was starving a couple strangers came to her home. A man startling her as he ripped the door back and startled the small lump from the blankets to stare at him wide eyed. The man stepping in looking around the too tiny one bedroom home before looking back to the trembling child.
"I thought you said this was Fujiko's residence," he said not taking his eyes off her but leaning his head towards the woman behind him.
She somberly nodded. "It is."
"Tch. There's barely anything here. That girl couldn't repay what she owes even in death...Hm. Though I suppose the wood on the walls could be torn down for firewood but that's hardly worth anything."
Perhaps seeking an opportunity, the woman looked between the angry man and the child before smiling wider."If I may give a suggestion, Sir?" He turned before she pointed a hand right at the little girl. "Miss Fujiko had a young daughter. Granted she's not really much to look at at all, I'm sure she could work off her mother's debt through labor."
The man looked back at her making her flinch back as he grew near. Hand reaching out to rip away the blanket as she covered her head, eyes closed in fear awaiting the worst out of this strange, scary situation...But as the silence stretched on nothing nothing happened.
"Unbelievable."
"Im-... IMPOSSIBLE!! THERE MUST BE SOME MISTAKE!! THAT ISN'T HER!! SHE'S SO-...Sir, I think I've made a mistake. This isn't Fujiko's home after all. This girl is too high value-"
"Be silent!"
Her eyes blinked open as a large hand pulled tinier ones away so this stranger could look at her with a big smile, looking at her like how the neighborhood boys would look at their next targets. He continued to stare at her for a long time before he abruptly stood up, taking her with him as he pulled her little body up by the arm.
"My business here is concludes. The girl will cover the debt."
He said nothing else as he dragged the girl by the hand and made her drag along with with towards a place. Through the poor and desolate streets and into the very heart of the district. Making her look around in awe. Despite being daylight, there was barely anyone walking the streets.
"It's desolate now but wait until the sun sets."
She looked up at the man continuing to drag her along behind him until they reached a large three story house and he proceeded to drag her inside. Her little eyes in awe at seeing the magnificent cleanliness and beautiful decor adorning the polished wood surfaces. Like outside there was barely anyone else there but that didn't mean there wasn't. A girl who looked in her mid forties looked up from a bucket and scrub brush she was using knelt on the floor to stare at her House Master.
"Back so soon, Sir?'"
He nodded pulling the girl forward."Yes but I've brought back something worthwhile."
Her eyes looked at the girl before her face lit up in the same surprise as the man and first woman had. "Oh my goodness. She is quite lovely isn't she?"
"Yes. Is Tsuyusaki still awake? I need to discuss something with her."
The girl nodded and the man proceeded to continue dragging the confused girl away towards a flight of stairs making her struggle to keep up with him. Up the first flight they went. Then a second to the third floor and down a hall that looked the same as the first two floors. Up to a large sliding door which he pounded on.
"Tsuyusaki! I have something to discuss with you that cannot wait!"
The young girl blinked up at the door as a woman's voice came from within. "Come in."
Without hesitation the door was open and she was dragged inside. Stumbling inside and going wide eyed as the most beautiful woman she had ever seen filled her vision. She was like a celestial maiden adorned in loose silks, with silky black hair half way framing her face as if she was undoing it from the many beautiful ornaments adorning her locks. Shiny obsidian eyes stared up at the man before quickly migrating their way down to the young girl still in his hand, tilting her beautiful face at her.
"Oh my. Master Sakuno, who is this young girl with you?"
"Fujiko's daughter."
The beautiful lady suddenly looked up at him in surprise. "The servant girl who died?"
He nodded. "Yes." He pulled her in front of him to stand before her finally releasing her. "She's here to pay off the rest of the debt her mother couldn't finish. Starting from today onwards she is your knew kamuro. I want you to train her to take your rank! Her beauty will surely only become triple what it is by then! There's no doubt she was born to be an Oiran."
"I see..." The woman smiled at her. "Then I suppose we better get started with a bath and new clothes for her. Hello, Young One. Do you have a name?"
The young girl's eyes widened before speaking. "It's -"
**********************
The lonely stillness of the air stood out against the usual lustful gazes and the practiced giggles one would usually here persisting within the Yoshiwara Province. That place is full of criminals and some even heard rumors you're not even allowed to live there unless you got money or you're in service to some rich house.
The measurements of one's own worth weighed heavily upon the beauty of outer looks. Or the wealth from the status you had upon thee either from birth or taken for one's own self through selfish means.
She was no stranger to that way of life.
The crystalized glamor that was painted over the true cruelty of the withering district hid the true meaning underneath. The streets bathed in the battered blood of civilization tainted with selfish desire and covered in a layer of cherry blossom petals and silk robes to distract those from the real monsters underneath.
The closer to the glittery land they got, the more the excitement and desperation truly grew within greedy heart. It was only a matter of time before they truly were lost to it's influence. The streets were as beautiful as the buildings and each were obviously made to show off wealth and status, and yet they looked so sinful once you looked closer under their glitz and glam! The annoyance in pattern only continued on with each step they took, each street passed, each house going by. Becoming more bigger and horrible the more wealthy into the district they marched.
The only sounds of the room being the soft footsteps slowly approaching the window, pushing the shutters quietly open to peer down amongst the crowd just starting to form.
Then a soft glow settled amongst the glam and glitter that paves the streets. There was still plenty of light only just beginning to turn sundown, but most of the light came from above. Strings of lanterns hung up over the streets and connecting the buildings within the dazzling glow of red lantern lights. Sparkling like mini stars and giving off the red glow the district was known for. The heavy scenes of sweet perfumes and food ravaged the air. And the sights before shiny eyes were what they were familiar to seeing.
The streets were full of people crowded yet still more were coming in. Once a buzz like bees murmuring of speech, now slowed down to a full stop as eyes from streets, doorways, and windows looked down to stare at the men lining in the streets. The streets were filled with beautiful women adoring flattering dresses and make up, and working men in loose fitting Hakama shirts showing off their impressive builds, both men and women of the night ripe for the taking for any paying customer. They'd often catcall out to potential customers to entice them out of their money and lure them to an early empty wallet. Looks like it's going to be an early night.
She simply stared down at the wondering people who stood in the streets until one paused feeling the stare of eyes piercing his head. Looking up the two locked eyes and it was like the mere sight caused boldness within him as if he was waiting for her to spare him her eyes for just a moment.
"OIRAN Y/NHIME!!," he boldly proclaimed to her and anyone who would hear his voice as arms rose in worship, "I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!! Your beauty is beyond compare!! I would make love to you every night if you were mine!!"
The sounds of a shutter slamming back shut filled the space as she backed away from the screaming man desperately calling her name over and over like a desperate prayer. Obsessing admiration as she knew it well to be. A sigh leaving her lips once more.
"Oiran! Oiran!"
Her head turned. The sound of a door sliding open and two young girls no older than seven or eight appeared on the other side adorned in matching pretty blue silk kimonos printed with white flowers, identical hairstyles and make up matching their faces as they smiled at her. Twins. Twins that happen to be her Kamuro since last year, and have come to service her.
"Oiran!" They practically squealed out in delight approaching her with wide smiles. Approaching quickly and tugging at her robes. "Let's play!" "Will you read to us?" They excited babbled on to her.
Despite the dreaded feeling that lingered, she smiled down at them, a gentle tug pulling their hands away from her. "Not tonight. There's work needed to be done and you're supposed to be practicing your writing tonight. Is Master Sakuno awake?"
One of the twins nodded and her sister pointed to the door. "Yes. He told us to get you ready for the night!"
"Alright. Would one of you please tell him there's someone lingering outside my window again? He should take care of it before it stirs up more trouble."
She nodded turning around and quickly exiting back out closing the door behind her, leaving her sister to take her by the hand and tug towards the vanity on the other side of the room. Her beautiful face quickly becoming apparent to herself as the mirrored reflection stared at her in the eye. The face that moved a province and could guide many a man to poverty if she chose to use it like that.
But she never would. It'd kill her if she ever used this face for anything.
The small clattering of objects being moved about sounded as she slowly sat down, Kamuro already making grabbing hands towards the various makeups until a larger hand placed itself on top hers to stop her. With a questioning tilt of her head, her eyes glanced up at her.
"I'll do my make up tonight. I want you and your sister to study the new words I taught you. Alright?"
A small whine of protest escaped her mouth. "But we study every night! We don't even get to play anymore! All we do is study and chores!"
"Master Sakuno gave you to me as my Kamuro. Im supposed to teach you and you're supposed to learn. That's the way things are here." A serious expression grazed her features and a firm finger pointed to the young girl's face. "The sooner you learn, the less hurt you'll get. Now go study your words!"
She pouted but probably knowing what will entail if either failed to learn, she turned to events walk off. A sigh of relief for now escaped from her lips as she turned back to the woman in the mirror. Her gaze piercing and beauteous, not a blemish to her skin, not a wrinkle, not a birthmark, not a scar. Perfect alignment and slim but a certain roundness to her cheeks making them plump enough to squish cutely without making her face fat looking with just the slightest of rosey tints. Her lashes long and fluttering, eyes a perfect shine, full lips, lucious silky locks of hair that cascaded down her back and framing the face staring at her.
Beautiful.
The mirror woman was beautiful with her perfectly symmetrical face and soft features. Truly a desirable lady, one that could drive a man to suicide if she wanted to. She despised the woman daring to look back at her. A hatred no one understood but one she had learnt to live with long ago. Hands instinctually found their places amongst the objects. Comb going through long locks and nimble fingers grabbing strands to place them in a certain style.
"Oiran!" A small voice piped up behind her. "What style will you do today?"
"I think a momoware will suffice."
"But that's a style for maiko. You should wear a datehyogo instead as that's what you're supposed to wear."
"I don't think anyone else would notice tonight if all they do is stare at my face." As long as she gave the illusion of a high priced courtesan then did her opinions really matter? "I think I want to try something different today anyways."
The hands worked her hair around, thing in certain places as the sun proceeded to set outside. Long locks tied up in a style before a twinkling silver bira bira was added with a kushi and long purple floral kanzashi. A flowering kanoko dome placed carefully in the back. Beautiful. How weary. The smells of make up reached her nose as a red brush dipped in red liquid was pressed to her lips, face a powered puff white. Floral patterned silks pulled from a closet and dragged out to her by little hands was expertly wrapped around her in layers. A perfect mirror image of a highly desired woman truly.
"Whoa! You look pretty, Oiran!" Two identical faces stared up at her in awe. "I wanna be as pretty as you when I grow up."
"Hm. No. Don't wish for my life." A hand patted a smaller head. "Wish that someone will buy your freedom instead."
The silence was again palpable with the night fully here, the twinkling stars no match for the lantern lights shining down lighting up the throngs of people who filled the air with their voices and footfalls. ...Speaking of footfalls- Her head turned to the door as heavy footsteps approached and a second later it opened up with a loud thud revealing the frowning man on the other side.
"Master Sakuno," she greeted with a bow practiced many times beforehand that it was second nature now. "Good evening. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
His frown didn't waved as he pointed a hand at her. "I just got done with running off a penniless rat again! How many times are you going to invite bastardized pigs around Heavens House!?"
Blame shifting. Not once did that woman invite those men to come back around, stalking her window, yelling professions and confessions of love never reciprocated. She never once asked for any of this attention. In fact she utterly despised it to her core, but explaining it to someone who'd never understand that was absent hopeless. Fighting wouldn't get her anywhere but more trouble that she wouldn't want, so biting her tongue she just smiled and bowed her head.
"I apologize for that, Master. I was under the impression that you wanted customers to come back and spend more money."
"Spend money!! Which would give way to the fact that they need to SPEND the dam MONEY to see you!!," he yelled out in full anger, the smaller Kamuro hiding behind the flowing layers of silk in fear. "Giving them free looks at you from the balcony is fueling their own fucking fantasies as if this is some romantic folk story!! THIS BETTER BE THE LAST DAM TIME I HAVE TO RUN OFF POVERTY RATS OR ELSE YOU'LL FIND YOURSELF SCRUBBING THE FLOORS RAW WITH NOTHING BUT A NAIL BRUSH!! UNDERSTAND THAT!?"
Her head bowed obediently. "Yes, Master Sakuno."
"Don't forget your place just because you carry the rank of Oiran on your shoulders!," he spat the pointing finger jabbing her forehead painfully. "I still own you!! I took you in when you were no one with nothing to your name and made you who you are! That could easily change if anymore disobedience happens to pop up!"
"And for that I am truly grateful." Her head kept bowed. Eyes closed. "I apologize."
His hand lowered but his scowl remained. "If you're grateful then you won't mind making it up to me!"
"Of course. What shall I do to atone for my mistakes?"
"You can entertain downstairs tonight! There's a rumor that bushi-dan are going to be passing through Yoshiwara tonight. They are wealthy men from honorable families which means they have lots of money to spend! You are to entice them in!"
Her one attribute she was trained to do. Entice and lure in. Like a Venus fly trap to an unsuspecting insect.
"But fix THIS first!!" There was a brief sting of pain as the kushi was ripped out from her locks instantly pulling some of the strands with it as he just pulled it from her hair and a moment later threw it to her her feet. "You look lowly like that! Make yourself look presentable before you even think about showing your face, and do it quickly!"
"Yes, Master Sakuno."
The older man regarded her in contempt before giving a grunt of annoyance, turning on a heel stomping away with only the loud slam of the door behind him signaling his leave. Only then did she dare look up or acknowledge the shaking children next to her.
"Master is scary," one sister eventually spoke up from where she hid herself behind her robes. "I don't like him!"
"Hush that way of thinking immediately." Her tone was ever stern as her eyes turned down and she reached for the painted kushi on the floor. "It's best not to bite the hand that feeds you."
"But he's so mean!," one insisted. "He's always yelling at everyone and threatening them!"
"He also gives you food, water, clothes, a place to sleep, doctor visits..." Her eyes narrowed in their own contempt. "Allows me to educate you...No one said you must like him, but be grateful for what he provides you and don't speak ill of who provides you with it. I don't want to hear it from your lips again."
Both girls exchanged looks at one another. "What will you do now, Oiran?"
She took a deep inhale. "I'm going to fix my hair." She turned. "Would you two bring my koto downstairs? I'm going to fix my hair. When you're finished, I want you two to spend the rest of the night studying your words. We don't want to anger Master Sakuno any further do we?"
The twins exchanged looks but knew better than to argue at this point with the house master angry. Both shuffled towards the instrument located against the wall and started dragging the wooden instrument across the floor towards the door. Once again her reflection appeared to her in the mirror, loose strands sticking out at odd angles as she let out a sigh and hands gently began to pull out the momoware. Combing and tying, inserting kogai until the datehyogo was sitting proudly on her head, little bira bira swaying from either side of her hair. Beautiful. Very tempting to just throw the floral kanzashi into the reflection to shatter, but instead she turned to leave a perfect smile practiced for years on her face. She would grin and bare the pains of beauty.
Her footsteps leaving her room signalling to everyone who knew her that she was on her way. Looks of disdain, contempt, and jealously marking her, weighing her down with every step from others.
"I heard the house master got angry with her again," one whispered loud enough for her to purposely hear as she passed, daggers being shot through her spin. "Apparently she was caught flirting with a poor man outside of her balcony once more."
"Isn't that the fifth one this year?," another snickered back looking gleeful at her misery, "She thinks just because she has the highest rank here, she can do as she pleases. Honestly she displays such shameful behavior, it's no wonder Master Sakuno thinks she'll bring shame to his house."
"He might just get so fed up with her, he'll just auction her off like he did with Shishi last year. Disgraceful women who throw themselves into lust like dogs in heat have no place here."
"Shh. Careful. She'll hear us."
Jealousy, contempt, disdain, anger, envy- She's gotten it all from her fellow women living here. It was about as awful as receiving the terrifying advances of the men outside. She did not blame them. Most were forced into this lifestyle to survive and couldn't help but be envious to the few luxuries offered to her. What they wouldn't do for the amount of times she's gotten marriages offers or men interested in buying her contract when it meant freedom, but all were turned away from by the house master. After all, she made him his most money. It would be a stupid investment to give away his most precious asset. But the amount of times she's nearly been shoved down stairs or purposely tripped over by others here was starting to show cracks in their 'accidents'.
----------------------
The night was long and treacherous with many dangers being out there in the dark even for skilled killers and fighters like the men whom sought out the company of warm flesh and soft faces.
"Which house do you think?," one asked his body feeling heavy from his long travels.
Bright lights were everywhere.
It nearly blinded the men by the amount of lanterns and lightly that glowed warmly against the sky, giving just a small amount of light. People were everywhere. Tons of them. Walking around, shouting at one another, talking loudly, and sometimes carrying objects like bags or boxes. The murmuring of voices together was loud enough to be a buzz like that of a bee hive. It rattled their heads in a way that was unpleasant and not too familiar.
The buildings surrounding the people were bigger than any of the ones back where they hailed from. Two or three stories each. At the base of said houses were small stalls and wagons the tons of people swarmed but you couldn't see what they sold unless you got close to them. There was too many different faces. It was dizzying. Yet that didn't stop one of them from quickly stopping by one stall that it's vendor sold large warm meat packed dumplings, buying one and proceeding to eat it as they walked. The savory taste of soup boiled beef and spice mixing deliciously in his mouth as they walked.
Only now stopping to look at the maze of houses lining the streets and bedazzled in way too much money. Yoshiwara was known for too much flattery and painting everything in the metaphorical gold. It's supposedly a display of wealth but if you asked someone like their leader, it just meant they were egotistical and gaudy.
"Why don't we just pick the fanciest looking one and try in there? Rich idiots usually keep the good things on display."
That was true. In their experience, the rich weren't too bright and enjoyed showing off WAY too much. Made them easier targets for men seeking what they want like them. Eventually eyes blinked around before settling on one building in particular.
The entire thing was white. Shiny wood painted a pure white, meanwhile golden oak pillars decorated the outside like beams of heavenly light. A golden glow emitted from the front and a few girls in beautiful kimonos happily giggled and waved at passerbys who stopped to gawk in awe at their beauty. Surely a very successful house amongst the others. Seemed like a place only an the best women would reside.
After a moment, the man pointed out the rather stunning building. "If I had to guess, It'd be there."
"You think so?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Let's take a look anf find out."
His comrades looked at one another but followed him as their leader made his way towards the large building. Even now people stopped to look at them passing by in shock but most steer clear of then and their swords, quickly scrambled out of their way as they walked past them. The girls even stopped their flirty smiles and stepped back from the entrance as they ascended the stairs and through the entrance. The inside looked as fancy as the outside but much more the large space was not surprisingly filled with more women dressed up in a similar style to all the others they've seen, all stopped and stared widely at the armored large men that walked right in. Looking around the place of shiny polished floors, and lit candles, and velvet curtains hanging off the walls.
The murmuring of the ladies quieted down as they looked around. Hm. Maybe they didn't come to the right place? A shuffling of quick footsteps got their attention and a second later the curtains moved, revealing another man on the other side. He was nothing to look at. Practically the stereotypical man who at first looked completely stunned by their presence, before smiled probably expecting customers, however like everyone else was stunned into surprise by the sight of the traveling samurai inthe middle of the room. More silence passed before he let the curtains drop back into place behind him and gave a more nervous grin.
"Ah. Good evening, Weary travelers," he greeted somewhat nervously clasping his hands together. "Welcome to the Heavens House. How can I help you tonight?"
"We're looking for a good rest," their leader's blunt tone was unchanging despite the flinch it caused who must've been the house master. "Our travel has been long and yet we have farther to go. We require a room for the night and-.." He gave a brief glance with his men. ".. Accomodations for the night."
"Ah! Well that can be arranged!" He gestured his hands around them. "We have many fine young ladies here for your entertainment tonight." His eyes scrunched up more in a greedy smile. "In fact, Heavens House hosts an Oiran. Best one in Yoshiwara. For your entertainment to ight, I can have her perform for you." That got their attention slightly. "But of course..A high class lady such as herself isn't without it's costs-"
"We have got the funds. Money is not a problem."
He practically beamed gesturing at the curtain he had just came from. "Please follow me to our entertainment room."
The sounds of armor shifting amongst the bodies walked behind him as he made a show of pulling back the curtains and gesturing an arm i side the large room behind him. The men inside one by one looking around the large room before pausing. The room was large with a long table in the center, but it wasn't the fancy room or polished decor.
It was a beautiful woman sitting against the wall smiling at them. Her head tilted swaying the bira bira in her hair as she beckoned their awestruck forms inside.
"I welcome you to Heavens House, Esteemed Guests. Please come sit so I may perform for your entertainment this night."
The sounds of a horse on the street clopped down the road towards it's destination. Heavy pants escaped it's open mouth between snorts. The unusual size of it's black body and it's hellish looking rider masked in terror. It was not unheard of for travelers with horses and mules to pass through Yoshiwara but rarely does one see one so unapproachable. The sounds of the horse proceeded through until something soft was heard outside of a house.
"When the skies fill with hope and dreams, come out dancing dancing in the twilight's gleam tonight.~ Offer our hearts and souls as lights glow.~ Towards the heavenly light.~"
The. Horse. Stopped. As soon as a grip tightened up on the reigns. The figure on it's back pausing as strings were plucked, music was played, and a harmonious beautiful voice sang out for the world to hear tonight as a few passerbys stopped to listen in on the singing inside.
"Ah. Beautiful isn't it?," one passerby asked his friend whom nodded in agreement. Both sporting big smiles and adoring expressions.
"Yes. Oiran Yuukihime's voice is as radiant as her figure. I am not surprised that her talents extend to her voice as well."
"She must be entertaining a guest tonight. He's a lucky man." Again his friend hummed in agreement with him.
"Join our hearts, in the dark as they ignite and fill the void of darkness with the lights of love and hopes that human dreams and hearts make sore up above to free the minds of the earthly burdens we must bare.~"
The head turned slightly over his shoulder towards the music wafting from the open doors and windows leading inside. The man dismounted the horse, slowly getting to the ground with a thud while still looking at the house.
"Hands clasped as we ask the gods above to bless us for days to come.~ Steps that we take to rush our rhythm farther towards the goals in mind.~"
"...Uta used to sing that song."
HEIAN SECRETS:
Are you curious about the vocabulary used in this chapter? Well here's a list to help better understand.
Momoware: A form of hairstyle used my maiko.
Maiko: A rank of geisha.
kushi: Basically just a decorative hair comb.
Datehyogo: A hairstyle only allowed to be worn by high ranking courtesans(Oiran), and the same ones Koinatsu and Daki wore in Kny.
kanoko dome: A hair pin with a heavily decorated top(usually a half circle, butterfly, flower, or bird) that's usually inserted in the middle of the hair bun facing the back.
Bira bira: Fluttering hair accessories usually silver in color.
Kogai: Hair pins/sticks that usually go with a matching kushi.
kanzashi: Hair pins. Usually ones that come with flowers.
koto: A traditional Japanese stringed instrument played by plucking strings similar to how one would play a harp.
kamuro: A servant to and a student of an Oiran whom she trains to one day take her rank.
Bushi-dan: A group of samurai or warriors in general.
That’s the thing that makes it sting the most, not that he didn’t love you at first, but that you were never part of the blueprint in his head. You were meant to be a distraction. Noise. Something easy.
Something that didn’t stay.
You find out on a Thursday. Of course it’s a Thursday. Nothing dramatic, no thunder, no cinematic timing, just you standing outside the kitchen at Theo’s flat, keys in your hand, jacket half-zipped.
Mattheo’s voice drifts out first.
“She’s… convenient,” he says, casual. Too casual. “It’s not that deep.”
Your stomach drops before the rest of the sentence even lands.
Blaise laughs. “You’re awful.”
“I’m honest,” Mattheo shrugs. “It’s not like I planned on her sticking around.”
The room goes quiet for a second.
Theo says, “Does she know that?”
Mattheo scoffs. “Why would she? She’s having fun. I’m having fun. That’s the point.”
You don’t hear the rest.
You don’t need to.
You leave without opening the door. Without slamming it. Without crying, not yet. You walk down the stairs like your legs aren’t shaking, like your chest isn’t caving in, like the boy who memorized how you take your coffee didn’t just reduce you to a placeholder.
That night, Mattheo texts you.
Matty <3 : you disappeared
Matty <3 : everything okay?
You stare at the screen for a long time.
Then:
You: yeah. just tired. went home.
You don’t go over the next day. Or the day after that.
At first, Mattheo thinks you’re busy. Then he thinks you’re sulking. Then he gets irritated.
By day four, irritation turns into something colder.
“Are you avoiding me?” he asks when he finally corners you outside Flourish & Blotts.
You look… fine. That’s what unsettles him. Calm. Polite. Distant.
“No,” you say. “I’ve just been giving you space.”
“I didn’t ask for space.”
You shrug. “You didn’t ask for me either.”
That’s when he freezes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You look at him for a long moment, really look at him. The sharp jaw, the practiced confidence, the boy who’s never had to wonder if he mattered to someone.
“I heard you,” you say quietly.
His stomach drops.
“Heard what?”
“Thursday. At Theo’s.”
The color drains from his face in a way that’s almost satisfying. Almost.
“I didn’t—” He stops. Runs a hand through his hair. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
You laugh once. It sounds wrong. “Funny how that’s always the problem.”
“That’s not—” He exhales sharply. “You’re taking it out of context.”
“Okay,” you say. “Explain it to me, then.”
He opens his mouth.
Nothing comes out.
And that silence tells you everything.
“So I was… what?” you press. “A phase? A distraction? Something to pass time until you got bored?”
“That’s not how it is now,” he says quickly.
You tilt your head. “But that’s how it started.”
He doesn’t deny it.
That’s the second thing that breaks you.
You step back. “I can’t do this.”
“What do you mean, you can’t do this?” His voice sharpens, panic slipping through the cracks. “You’re being dramatic.”
You flinch. “See? That. That’s why.”
“So you’re just… leaving?” he asks. “Over one conversation?”
“No,” you say. “I’m leaving because I realized I’m the only one who thought this meant something.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then say it,” you whisper. “Tell me I mattered from the beginning.”
He can’t.
And you nod, like you expected that.
“Okay,” you say, voice shaking despite yourself. “Then we’re done. You’ll be happier with that.”
He swallows. Pride kicks in before fear can stop it.
“Fine,” he says. “If that’s what you want.”
You wait. Just a second. Just in case.
He doesn’t stop you.
So you walk away.
—————————————————————————
Mattheo tells himself he’s fine.
For about a week.
Then the quiet starts getting loud.
He reaches for his phone at night. Stops. He notices stupid things, like how his flat smells wrong without your shampoo, how he keeps buying your favorite snacks out of habit. He catches himself thinking you’d like this and then remembers you’re not there to tell.
Worst of all?
You don’t come back.
No drunk apology text. No angry confrontation. No dramatic scene.
You just… disappear from his life.
And suddenly, the word convenient feels like a knife in his mouth.
He starts realizing things he didn’t mean to notice before. How you always waited for him to cool off before talking. How you defended him when people called him cruel. How you knew him well enough to love him anyway.
He didn’t plan on you mattering.
But you did.
And now he’s sitting with the weight of that, alone, realizing too late that the thing he treated as temporary was the only thing that ever felt real.
—————————————————————————
Mattheo breaks on a Tuesday.
Not in a poetic way. Not with dignity.
He shows up at your door at 1:17 a.m. like a mistake he can’t undo, knuckles red from knocking too hard, hair a mess, eyes wild like he hasn’t slept in days.
You almost don’t open it.
Almost.
When you do, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath since Thursday at Theo’s flat.
“Please,” he says immediately.
Not hello. Not your name.
Please.
Your heart stutters traitorously.
“You can’t do this,” you whisper.
“I know,” he says, voice wrecked. “I know, I know, I know. But I’m doing it anyway.”
He takes a step closer. Stops himself. Like he remembers he doesn’t get to touch you anymore.
“I fucked up,” he says, hands shaking. “I thought I could keep everything shallow and survive that way. Then you loved me like it meant something and I panicked.”
You cross your arms. Armor.
“You didn’t panic,” you say. “You humiliated me.”
His face crumples. Actually crumples.
“I know,” he breathes. “And I’d take it back a thousand times if I could.”
Silence stretches.
Then he says it. The thing he’s been choking on.
“I didn’t think I deserved you,” he admits. “So I pretended you didn’t matter. And that was the worst mistake of my life.”
Your eyes burn.
“I hear your voice everywhere,” he continues, words spilling now, desperate. “In my head, in my flat, in my dreams. I keep thinking if I just explain it better, you’ll understand, but there is no explanation that makes what I did okay.”
He swallows hard.
“But I need you to know this wasn’t nothing to me. You weren’t a phase. You weren’t convenient. You were the first person who made me want to be better and I hated myself for that.”
You laugh, sharp, broken. “So now you want me back?”
“No,” he says quickly. “I want you to know the truth. And if you never forgive me, I’ll live with that. I already am.”
His voice cracks.
“But if there’s even the smallest chance… I’ll wait. I’ll prove it. I’ll beg if I have to.”
Your chest caves in.
“You already are,” you whisper.
He nods, tears in his eyes, unashamed. “Yeah.”
You don’t invite him in.
You don’t forgive him.
But you don’t shut the door either.
“You hurt me,” you say, voice quiet but lethal. “And I’m not ready.”
“I know,” he says immediately. Too fast. Like he’s been rehearsing it. “I know, I know.”
You wait.
“And?” you press.
“And I can’t just walk away,” he blurts. “I can’t pretend I didn’t ruin the one thing that mattered.”
“That’s not my problem,” you say.
His eyes go glassy.
“I’ll make it my problem,” he insists. “I’ll give you space if you need it but I’m not giving up on you.”
You shake your head. “Mattheo—”
“Please,” he cuts in, voice breaking. “Don’t shut the door like that. Don’t decide this for both of us.”
Your hand tightens around the door.
“You don’t get to decide anything anymore,” you say.
He swallows hard. “Then let me stay outside. Not to make you forgive me. Just… to prove I’m still here.”
You scoff. “That’s manipulative.”
“I know,” he says, raw. “But it’s honest.”
Silence.
Your chest aches.
“You’re being pathetic,” you whisper.
“I am,” he agrees. No pride left. “I loved you wrong and now I’m paying for it.”
You stare at him, searching for the arrogance you used to hate.
It’s gone.
“Go home,” you say finally.
He doesn’t move.
“Mattheo.”
“Just five minutes,” he begs. “Then I’ll go. I swear.”
You close the door.
Not gently.
He flinches at the sound.
But he stays.
You see it through the peephole him sinking down against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, head in his hands.
He whispers apologies over and over like he’s trying to convince the universe to give him another chance.
You don’t open the door.
But you don’t sleep either.
—————————————————————————
He comes back the next day.
And the next.
Not always knocking. Sometimes just sitting outside like a ghost you can’t exorcise.
He leaves stupid things at your door, your favorite chocolate, a folded note that just says I’m sorry, a lighter he stole from you months ago.
You never acknowledge them.
That doesn’t stop him.
“Say you hate me,” he tells you one evening when you finally open the door. “I can handle that.”
You look at him, exhausted. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I don’t know how to stop loving you,” he says, voice wrecked. “And because giving up feels worse than being unwanted.”
Your heart twists painfully.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” you say.
“I already did,” he replies. “You’re just the consequence.”
And that’s the problem.
Because even now, even angry, even wounded, he’s still choosing you.
Relentlessly.
You break on the fifth day.
Not because he’s outside again.
Not because of the notes or the gifts or the way he looks at you like you’re the last good thing left in his life.
You break because you hear him arguing with Theo on the stairs.
“You can’t keep doing this,” Theo snaps. “She said she’s not ready.”
“I don’t care,” Mattheo says, voice hoarse. “I’ll wait until she is. Or until she tells me to disappear forever.”
“And if she never does?”
There’s a pause.
Then, quieter. Smaller.
“Then I’ll love her from a distance and let that be enough.”
That’s when your chest caves in.
You open the door before you can think.
He turns so fast he almost trips.
“Hey— I wasn’t— I can go—”
“Stop,” you say, tears already spilling and you hate yourself for it.
He freezes.
“I didn’t ask you to destroy yourself for me,” you whisper. “I asked you to understand what you did.”
“I do,” he says, stepping closer, hands shaking. “I swear I do. I was careless with you. I treated something sacred like it was temporary. And I will regret that for the rest of my life whether you take me back or not.”
You laugh through your tears. “You’re so stupid.”
“I know,” he says. “But I’m yours. Even if you don’t want me.”
That does it.
You grab his tshirt and pull him into you, forehead crashing into his chest as you finally sob, ugly, broken, months of pain pouring out.
He holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip.
“I loved you,” you cry. “I loved you when you didn’t even think I mattered.”
His arms tighten.
“You mattered,” he says fiercely. “You mattered so much it scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know how to hold something that real without ruining it.”
You pull back, eyes red, heart bare.
“Promise me something,” you say.
“Anything.”
“If you hurt me like that again,” you whisper, “I will leave. And I won’t come back.”
He nods, tears slipping freely now. No pride left to save.
“Then let me love you properly,” he says. “Let me choose you out loud. Every day. Let me spend the rest of my life proving you were never a mistake.”
You kiss him like forgiveness, not easy, not instant, but real.
And he kisses you like relief. Like survival. Like you’re the reason he learned how to love at all.
Later, curled together on the floor because neither of you had the strength to stand, he presses his forehead to yours and murmurs:
“You were never supposed to matter.”
You smile softly, brushing your thumb under his eye.
“Yeah,” you say. “And look how that turned out.”
He laughs, broken and full all at once.
And this time, there’s no doubt.
Not temporary, not convenient, not replaceable.
Just love, raw, earned, and finally spoken out loud.
CHAPTER ONE: UNRAVEL
WORD COUNT: 895 WORDS
MASTERLIST
<- PREV / NEXT ->
EDITED!
japanese will be written in italics.
UNRAVEL
I'm trapped within this world that someone planned out for us
Before our fate and future starts crumbling back to dust
I'm begging you, please, just to remember me
As clear as I used to be
You were so cold.
From the moment you opened your eyes you knew something was very, very wrong. You had no recollection of what had happened before you opened your eyes, but you could feel it in your gut. Whatever happened to you, was not good.
Your body felt like it was about to explode. Were you running a fever? You couldn’t tell. Not with the snow blocking your vision, nor with the wind howling terribly in your ears.
God, why was it so dark outside?
Between the terrible slashes of wind you heard thumping. Was your heart beating so fast? Or was it your head?
Sharp claws nearly grazing your face told you that it was neither of those. Eyes widening, you hurriedly attempted to roll over to your other side.
Too late. The creature had managed to grab your waist and turned you to lie on your back.
It’s face was hideous. Dark horns protruding the thick skin of it’s forehead, combined with dark red veins crossing all over it’s body.
If your sight was muddled before, it was a hundred times worse now. The snowfall hadn’t ceased, and the creature’s long, stringy hair covered most of your face. What could you do?
‘’My, what luck! To stumble upon such an easy prey!’’ the hideous creature exclaimed. ‘’I haven’t had the pleasure of eating a pretty thing like you in weeks!’’
What the hell? You clawed at it’s face, alas, it was much too strong.
Was this seriously how you were going to die? Not in a noble fight, not peacefully in bed.
No, you were going to be devoured by a cannibalistic monster! You scrunched your eyes closed in fear.
You refused to let this monstrosity be the last thing you see before you go.
What a joke. You were never as strong as your siblings, but this? This was just disgustingly sad. How were you ever going to compare? They have all fought strange creatures before! And you? You had to go and be taken down by the first ever monster you encountered.
You were pulled from your rather dramatic last thoughts when you felt something warm hit your face.
…
Was it fucking drooling on you?!
Luckily for you, it wasn’t drool. When you hesitantly opened your eyes again, you were met with a rather strange sight.
The monsters’ head had disappeared, leaving only it’s body hovering over you.
That ‘drool’ you had felt? It was blood. Blood which did not belong to you. Blood that now covered your entire face and parts of your hair. Not even your beloved Black Canary shirt was spared.
But.. how? How come the creature’s head suddenly disappeared?
Slowly, the body on top of you started disintegrating.
What had just happened?
You let out a deep breath when you suddenly heard a deep voice from beside you.
‘’Will you get up from the ground now? This is really not a flamboyant sight.’’
…What? Not.. flamboyant...?
What the hell is this guy on!
Then it hit you.
Not only was this guy speaking in freakishly outdated terms, he was speaking another language! Your shock riddled brain hadn’t even noticed this.
All of a sudden you were glad you chose languages for your extracurricular.
You’d started out with American Sign Language, in the hopes of bonding with Cass. She'd noticed, and she appreciated the effort -but like the rest of your family- she had more important things to attend to.
Afterwards, you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to add languages you liked and wanted to learn to your program instead.
You’d kept up your language studies very diligently, and now you were able to make yourself understandable in several languages.
Although Japanese… ranked a bit lower on the list. You were great at listening, understanding and reading! But speaking and writing?
…Not so much.
No matter! You were confident enough in your abilities to just thank the man kneeling next to you.
‘’Thank you so much! I should get home now.’’ you quickly moved to stand up. The tall guy from earlier stood by your side to check for any heavy injuries.
Now that you were somewhat sobered up you were able to analyze his appearance.
He wore a strange outfit, it looked… out of date. Like his vocabulary.
His white hair was tied into a ponytail, and decorated with a silver headband adorned with gems. You were beginning to understand why he seemed to enjoy calling things ‘flamboyant.’
His facial expression turned serious. ‘’Listen kid, it’s dangerous to be out at night. Especially in an area like this. Where do you live? I’ll walk with you.’’
‘’Thank you so much, but there’s really no need!’’ you reassured him. You’d be able to get home by yourself.
After straightening out your clothes -or what’s left of them- you finally looked up.
That was when you took in your surroundings. Rows and rows of high trees and shadows cast by high mountains.
What?
The man seemed to sense the shock you went through. ‘’Are you alright?’’ a question asked out of genuine concern.
You couldn’t hear him though. In fact, you couldn’t hear anything. A burning sensation made its way from the pits of your stomach towards your throat.
Where were you? How did you get here?
But most importantly, how were you going to go home?
TAISHO SECRETS!
Reader was not in a clear state of mind during the beginning of the chapter, hence why it took her so long to realize what was going on.
Reader bought Green Arrow merch to piss off Bruce, but ended up becoming a genuine Black Canary fan.
chapter one is out! and we've met our first demon slayer... who oh who could it beeee? I apologise. the chapters aren't too long, I'm trying! but since this is my first fic since... 2018, I'm still doing my best to get the hang of everything. please be patient with me!
I don't know how noticeable it is, but you might have noticed how my writing style was a bit more... comical ? in this chapter. I had this idea (no idea if this will work) to incorporate the different styles in the story.
If you've watched demon slayer before, you know that besides insanely cool fightscenes and emotional backstories, there's quite a few comical relief scenes. I'd like to incorporate that into here as well example:
''This is really not a flamboyant sight.’’
…What? Not.. flamboyant..? What the hell is this guy on!
whenever you see scenes like this? I have these type of scenes in mind.
it's very silly I know, I'm not quite sure if it will even make a difference. but, you never know until you try! of course, this will mean the chapters concerning the batfam are more on the serious side. I know they can be silly, but this (hopefully) also reflects how reader feels in the respective universes!
The fact that kaburamaru (obanai’s snake) was happy and looked like he was smiling when he was with sanemi, shinobu, nezuko and the others but looked mad when he was with giyuu is hilarious 😭😭😭
It isn't on purpose. Some part of you just knows it's cold outside the blankets — a biting, mid-December sort of chill that will settle into the castle stone and refuse to leave until spring. Your eyes stay closed, but you feel it anyway: the crisp sting hiding in the air, the faint hum of the enchanted heating charms that never seem quite strong enough, and—
And Mattheo's arm draped securely over your waist, heavy and warm.
His breath ghosts softly across the back of your neck, slow and even. Completely unbothered by the weather. Naturally. Mattheo sleeps like he fights: stubbornly determined to win.
You shift a little. Not enough to wake him — just enough to peek over your shoulder.
Honestly, you think it's unfair. No one should look this soft in sleep. Mattheo's curls are a mess, falling into his eyes. His mouth is relaxed, none of the usual sharp smirks or snarky comments. Just warmth. Just him. And you feel your chest squeeze with something gentle like every time you see him like this.
Merlin, you're so doomed.
You carefully pull the blankets up to his shoulders. He lets out a faint grumble, burrows closer, and tucks his face into the curve of your neck as if magnetized.
"Don't move," he mutters, voice gravelly and still half-asleep.
You stifle a soft laugh. "You're awake?"
"Mmh, no." His arm tightens around you. "But you're warm."
"You're heavy."
He makes a sleepy, offended noise. "Rude."
You just smile quietly and silly into the pillow.
For a long moment, there's only the quiet rhythm of his breathing and the distant pop of the room's fireplace. The rest of Slytherin is still asleep. It feels like the world is on pause, wrapped in the kind of early-morning hush you want to bottle and keep forever.
Eventually, your fingers drift down to his hand resting over your stomach. You gently trace the lines of his knuckles. He hums again, softer this time.
"Mattheo."
"Mmm?"
"It's freezing."
"You're freezing," he corrects, voice still thick with sleep. "I'm fine."
"That's because you're half-dragon."
He smiles into your skin. "Definitely half something."
You roll your eyes, but you can't help the flutter in your stomach.
"Should we get up?" you ask softly.
"No," he answers immediately.
"Classes start in an hour."
"We'll skip."
"We're not skipping."
"We could," he tries, a lazy persuasion in his tone. "Stay in bed. Hide from the frost. I'll let you steal my jumper."
You pause.
"...The soft green one?"
His chest rumbles with a low chuckle. "I knew that'd get you."
You elbow him lightly, but he only pulls you closer again, tucking his legs around yours like he's trying to cocoon you.
"You're impossible," you say.
"You adore me."
You do. He knows it. You know it. The entire castle probably knows it.
But instead of answering, you wiggle free just enough to turn and face him. His dark eyes blink open, heavy-lidded with sleep, gaze soft. Always soft when he looks at you. He seems younger like this, less guarded — like the world hasn't quite put its claws in him yet.
He studies you with a slow, lazy smile for a moment. "Hi."
"Hi."
His fingers find a loose strand of your hair, curling it around his finger. "Come back here."
"You have to get up eventually," you protest half-heartedly.
"Incorrect. Absolutely false. Propaganda."
You laugh quietly. "Tell you what. I'll make tea."
Mattheo opens one eye curiously. "Tea?"
"With honey."
"Honey?"
"And the cinnamon biscuits you stole from the Great Hall."
"You saw that?"
You raise an eyebrow.
He sighs in defeat. "Fine. Tea it is then."
You push the blankets aside — instantly assaulted by the cold — and Mattheo protests dramatically as you escape his arms.
"Cruel," he calls after you. "Heartless. Abandoning me in my time of desperate need."
"It's been thirty seconds."
"Thirty agonizing and dreadful seconds."
You shake your head with a smile, tossing him a pillow on your way to the fireplace. It hits him in the chest, and he gasps as if mortally wounded.
While you set a kettle charm to heat, you hear him groaning behind you. You glance back. He's sprawled across the bed, hair wild, wrapped tightly in the blankets like some sleepy, sulking serpent.
"Stop being so cute," you say.
He blinks. "I'm not cute."
"You're extremely cute."
"That's slander."
"Uh-huh."
After a moment, you pour the tea, adding honey until it's just the way he pretends he doesn't like it. Mattheo claims he drinks it plain — like a real grown-up man — but every time you slip in honey he finishes the cup without a word.
You bring the two mugs over, and he immediately sits up, patting the space beside him.
You settle in, and the second you do, he wraps the blanket around both of you. His cold toes press against your shin, making you yelp.
"Mattheo!"
His grin is pure mischief. "See? I told you you're the freezing one."
"That's because you're using me as a personal heater!"
"Exactly." He takes a sip of tea, satisfaction spreading across his face with a hint of amusement. "Perfect."
You watch him for a moment. The soft morning light. His messy curls. The way he tilts his head when he tastes something he likes but refuses to admit it. The warmth of the blankets, and his shoulder resting lightly against yours.
It feels... easy, right.
Peaceful, in a way neither of you grew up with.
"You know," you say quietly, "I like mornings like this."
He turns to you. "With me?"
"With you."
Mattheo's smirk falters — just barely — replaced by something warmer, something careful.
Almost shy.
He leans forward until his forehead nudges yours gently. "Yeah," he whispers. "Me too."
The moment stretches, soft and delicate, before he presses a kiss to your temple. Then another to your cheek. Then, finally, your lips — slow, lingering, sweet.
When he pulls away, he looks at you like you've single-handedly brought warmth into a place that's always been too cold.
"What?" you ask.
He shakes his head slightly, smiling in that rare, unguarded way you love. "Nothing. Just... stay close today, yeah?"
You nudge his shoulder. "I always do."
"Good," he murmurs, settling contentedly against you again.
The tea cools. The biscuits disappear. The sun finally rises, lighting the room with soft gold.
And the two of you sit there under too many blankets, sharing warmth, sharing quiet, sharing something gentle in the beginning of winter — as if the world outside can wait a little longer.
