summary: it's the third of december. you gave me your sweater on that fateful night, some years ago. i always think about you on this day. do you think of me too?
word count: 465
a/n: i actually don't know what the fuck this is and what it's meant to be, it was just something i wanted to write for the 3rd of december ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ig it could be read as a random letter thing i wrote or it could be a slight reader one to a character of your choice ?
ps. rest in peace my little tannie, we'll always miss you so so much. sleep like a winter bear in the stars, bby
dear my love,
it’s that time of the year again. the snow is descending from the heavens above, silently turning the neighbourhood into a winter wonderland. i have the date circled on my calendar. i think about the 3rd of december every year. do you still remember?
that night, we were out for a nightly walk, bundled in our warm coats and gloves. the air was crisp, our breath turning into smokes of fog. soft snow crunched beneath our boots, an accompaniment to our quiet conversation.
as we passed the park near our block, snowflakes fell like feathers from the sky. the orange glow of the streetlight was our spotlight, shining down on us, the silent audience to our waltz. we spun and danced around each other, to a soundtrack of love only we could hear. i didn’t tell you then, but butterflies exploded in my heart when you dipped me, with that gentle smile.
the whole world fell silent, listening to us laugh and play in the snow. we ran around, catching snowflakes on our tongues, until our cheeks were painted red with joy, noses running from the frigid cold.
as the cold grew sharper, you noticed me shivering slightly. i still remember that you would tease me for not wearing enough, a playful smirk dancing on your face. “you’re always underdressed.” you teased. yet, as you spoke, you shrugged off your coat and sweater.
gently, you draped me in the warmth of your sweater. it smelled like you—your familiar cologne, the scent of home. though it was only polyester, it enveloped me in a warmth that seeped deep into my heart. it was like sitting by a roaring fireplace, nursing a mug of hot cocoa in my hands.
i still have the sweater. i remember trying to return it to you when we parted ways, but you insisted i keep it.
“it looks better on you than it did on me,” you complimented, though i could see heartache in your eyes.
sometimes, i find myself wondering if you’ve moved on, if you treat her like how you treated me. does she also have her own sweater from you? do you look at her the same way you looked at me?
from what i see on your posts, she’s pretty. prettier than me. posts of you two together, as she holds your hand, your arm around her shoulder. i want to hate her, but she’s such an angel. she makes you happy, in a way i can’t.
it's when the first snow falls, that i seek out the sweater. now, it only smells faintly of you—memories of christmas, of dances in the snow. my heart is still full of lingering feelings. i wish i could be her. but i’ll never be heather.
summary: the two of you were always bitter enemies, ever since you were young. but feelings change over time, and you made the greatest sacrifice because of it.
word count: 2.2k
a/n: i have finally gotten around to editing and now posting the pt 2 of save your tears!! to the people who were requesting this, i hope this is up to your expectations
૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა
you remembered now.
your rivalry started when the two of you were fresh-faced students, attending the ranzhi school in hopes of becoming the top healer.
jiaoqiu and you had opposing views, often clashing in heated debates in class. the two of you were like fire and water, fighting tooth and nail to rip the position of no. 1 on the exam billboard from each other. every exam, the title of no. 1 bounced between the two of you.
you detested jiaoqiu’s sly smirk, his teasing voice every time he scored higher or was praised by the teacher. every self-satisfied smile made your fists clench, nails digging into your skin. his proud mannerisms made you want to both punch his face in and bash your head against a wall.
yet what you hated the most was how his sly remarks made your heart dance in its cage, tomato red saturating the tips of your ears when you made eye contact.
jiaoqiu hated your quiet presence, how his eyes would search for you every time he entered a room. your arrogant presence ruffled his fur. your quiet, studious presence made his fur prickle with irritation. whenever the teacher affirmed your comment and you sent an arrogant smirk in his direction, jiaoqiu wanted to claw his own eyes out.
what jiaoqiu despised the most was how his heart would speed up every time he saw you, ears pricking up with interest when he heard your voice.
every class was a battle, the other students only watching in silent mortification as you and jiaoqiu battled with medical terms and theories, words clashing like swords, relentless and unstoppable, each seeking to deliver the final blow.
the climax of your rivalry was during a class discussion, when the teacher posed the hypothetical question–what was the best treatment for someone who had drunk tumbleweed poison?
a hand shot up in the air.
“an eye for an eye. find a willing participant to donate their eyes.” you spoke, confidence and certainty clear in your voice.
the teacher’s remark is cut off by a hand slamming into the table.
“ridiculous. who has ever heard of such a thing?” jiaoqiu jumped up, fur bristling in every direction, ears flattened in anger and pointing an accusatory finger at you. “who would ever want to sacrifice their own sight for someone else? i say that medicine to slow down the poison and its effects is the best method, there is no known cure for tumbleweed poisoning.”
as expected, the debate between the two of you lasts long, the sun’s pale yellow rays deepen into a warm golden, sun sliding further down the horizon, before the bell tinkles in the distance, signifying the end of the class.
it was ironic, that was the last debate that you had with jiaoqiu before your graduation. after, you both went your separate ways. sometimes, you found yourself missing the cunning foxian, with his smiling eyes that held something more.
jiaoqiu often found himself wondering what you were up to, his thoughts drifting to you when he drank a tea you had once mentioned to your friends. he missed your arrogant presence, with the quiet studious nature drawing all his attention every time he entered a room.
he habitually visited your herb store, tail and ears twitching with amusement as he pushed your buttons. he could see the vein throbbing in your neck, how you would clench your hands on the tabletop, a forced polite smile carved onto your face. a similarly sly grin was reflected on jiaoqiu’s.
when the war broke out, you sometimes wondered if jiaoqiu would be safe, after all, he was the healer for the merlin’s claw, the frontlines was his second home.
while he treated feixiao, jiaoqiu often found his thoughts wandering to you. would you have used a different herb to treat her? or would you have used a completely different method? he found himself almost missing the heated debates and the thrill it gave him, his heart beating faster, tail swishing in excitement.
the sound of the door opening awakens jiaoqiu.
sunlight warmed his body, as he lay in his bed, resting, according to the doctor’s orders.
though his sight had been stolen by the poison, he knows where everything is, the memories and layout etched into his brain.
“jiaoqiu,” feixiao called from the doorway. the mentioned foxian’s ears swivel atop his head, turning his face in the direction he hoped feixiao was standing. “i’ve brought someone to help you regain your sight. we’ll come in now.”
two sets of footsteps pattered across the wooden floors, before stopping at the side of the bed.
“so,” jiaoqiu begins. “who is this mysterious doctor who can cure me?”
“we started on the wrong foot before, jiaoqiu,” your voice floated through the air. “but i believe i can heal you.” you spoke quietly, voice wavering with nervousness.
though jiaoqiu couldn’t see, your eyes were flitting around the room, desperate to focus on anything but the foxian in front of you. your fingers were busy, picking at the bandage wrapped around your hand, from when the shard of porcelain sliced into your hand.
despite his sight being taken away, jiaoqiu’s ears could still recognise the voice of his rival during his student days and the person who he had rudely thrown the teacup at. his body stiffened, tail swishing in agitation and anxiety.
he suddenly recalled that he never apologised for his previous outburst. guilt flashed across his face, though he was quick to quash it down. his eyebrows furrowed, fists gripping the blanket underneath his hand.
jiaoqiu could imagine you, standing next to feixiao, proud and arrogant, like how you were in your youth. now, you had more reason to gloat. you had the upper hand in this moment.
the silence fell heavily between the three of you, feixiao’s brows knitted together, her sharp eyes noticed how you silently winced next to her, face turning more guilty than you were before you walked closer to jiaoqiu.
“feixiao, if you’ve come to taunt me with false hope, bringing along the person i least want to see, you can leave.” jiaoqiu’s voice cuts through the silence, definate in his decision.
you take a hesitant step forwards, stretching out a hand, worry and despair that jiaoqiu can’t see reflecting all on your face.
“stay away from me.” jiaoqiu growls, baring his teeth in your direction. “have you come to mock me again? to rub it in my face that i can’t be the top healer anymore?” spite and hate drip from his voice, like poison.
no, that's not what he meant. he was supposed to apologise, but this, sharp words that only served to harm people, came more naturally, especially with you.
you flinch, snatching your hand back, trying to stop the trembling in your hands. your hands tightened its grasp on your medicine box, knuckles turning white.
feixiao sighed, exasperated at the childish nature of her healer.
“jiaoqiu,” she spoke firmly. “if you want to be able to heal me in the future, then you need your sight back. i know you had history with [name], in fact, i heard about what happened last time, but they’re the only one right now who has a shred of hope in saving your sight.”
hearing feixiao’s reasoning, the fight left jiaoqiu’s body like a deflating balloon.
with an annoyed exhalation, jiaoqiu could only obediently nod his head in agreement.
settling your medicine box onto the mahogany bedside table, you began unpacking your instruments, while explaining the procedure to jiaoqiu and feixiao.
“i’m sure you remember, jiaoqiu, the proposed theory i had about how to treat tumbleweed poison.”
“an eye for an eye.” jiaoqiu echoed, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement as he remembered the memory.
“indeed.” you affirmed, nodding your head.
with a shaky breath in, you picked up the right instruments, beginning the procedure.
when jiaoqiu awoke, the weak morning rays filtered through the window, shining upon his blankets. jiaoqiu marvelled at the success of your operation, drinking in the sights of his familiar abode. he glanced around. the traces of feixiao’s presence were clear, an empty chair pulled up beside his bed, her coat thrown over a chair and her weapon propped up against the wall.
slipping out of bed, jiaoqiu exited his bedroom, expecting to see you at any moment, ready to gloat to him about your genius and how you were better than him in medicinal skill.
yet the house was oddly silent, no life present, the only sound the soft patter of his slippered feet hitting the wooden floor.
confused on where the guests were, he made his way outside, the spray of the sea air sprinkling against his skin.
he saw the back of your figure, whispering something close to feixiao’s ear. the roar of the waves drowned out your voices, not even jiaoqiu’s sensitive ears could pick up what you were muttering.
feixiao noticed jiaoqiu’s lurking presence, glancing at him with surprise and a hint of worry in her eyes. with a curt final message, feixiao left the two of you, throwing a departing glare of warning at jiaoqiu.
pausing by jiaoqiu’s shoulder, feixiao muttered to him a word of warning.
“be mindful of what you say to [name] and be gentle with your words.” feixiao hissed.
jiaoqiu dismissed her words with a shrug of his shoulders, annoyance present on his face. he was the patient, so why was feixiao being so nice to the healer?
with purpose in his step, jiaoqiu stalked towards you.
the tap tap of footsteps drawing closer behind you alerted you to a presence behind you, a simple deduction telling you it was most likely jiaoqiu.
“so,” jiaoqiu’s silky tone broke through the din. “how do you feel, o mighty healer?”
his voice dropped with mockery, a sly smile cruelly curving his mouth.
“i feel the same.” your curt voice was indifferent, not turning to look at jiaoqiu.
his fur bristled in annoyance. the fight in your voice, always present when you talked to him, was gone and it unnerved him.
“which unfortunate individual did you scam, to trade their eyesight for mine?” jiaoqiu pressed on, hoping for some sort of reaction from you. anger, glee, smugness, it mattered not to him, your lack of emotion put him on edge.
silence.
“i’m talking to you.” jiaoqiu growled. “at least look at me.”
only the splash waves answered his question.
jiaoqiu marched towards you, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder and turning you around to face him.
almost in slow motion, you turned, the white bandages falling away from your face.
the howl of the wind fell silent, the whole world holding its breath. jiaoqiu’s breath caught in his throat, his thoughts scattering like startled birds, words faltering on his tongue. a numbing shock swept over him, rendering him frozen.
jiaoqiu’s sharp eyes met yours. they were once so full of life and fire, now clouded over with milky white, sight stolen. his heart dropped in his chest, all the mockery and sarcasm ripped out of him.
the final remanants of arrogance melted from his tone, leaving only disbelief and pity. his ears flattened against his head, as he stared at the bandages.
“you–” jiaoqiu’s voice cracked. “why?” he breathed. “why give your eyes away? to me, of all people?”
your lips twisted into a wry smile. “love makes people do stupid things, jiaoqiu.” you whispered, sadness saturating your voice. where tears used to form, beads of scarlet began to pool, threatening to spill over.
jiaoqiu’s sharp tongue, always ready to retort, was rendered useless, staring helplessly at the person in front of him, pale eyes gazing somewhere beyond him, a once fierce rival, reduced to a broken and selfless person.
jiaoqiu’s throat tightened, reaching out his hand, hovering near your shoulder. an overwhelming sorrow ate away in his chest, guilt gnawing at his insides.
“why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, voice flooding with confusion and hurt.
you laughed, a hollow sound, laced with upset. “you wouldn’t have let me, if you had known.”
jiaoqiu’s ears flattened in shame, his lips pressed into a thin line. he knew, he would’ve argued with you, hell, even fought with you if he could see. but now, it was too late.
“you know, i never really hated you,” your voice broke through the silence, bloody tears trailing down your cheeks. “no, wait, i did, at the start, i really did hate you, with a burning passion.” you let out another sorrowful laugh. “but somewhere along the line, the hate, it turned to love.”
jiaoqiu’s breath caught, all those years of rivalry, it was something more, something simmering beneath the surface, just out of reach, something neither of you wanted to admit.
he wanted to say something, do anything, reach out and wipe your tears, perhaps, but his words and his body weren’t listening, he was frozen. his hand still suspended in mid-air. the weight of everything left unsaid hung between the two of you.
“i’m sorry,” he finally exhaled, voice raw with emotion, regret, barely audible in the wind. “maybe one day, if you wish, no, if you could ever forgive me, would you still give me a chance?”
deep down, he knew, it would be a long time, but he would wait for you, no matter how long.
summary: as the captain's wife, others thought the title brought power, fame and money. yet, it was weighed down by the chains of confinement. your yearning to escape had been caught by the captain. would you be able to escape, unscathed?
word count: 1k
C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, slight manipulation (?)
a/n: and with that, this fic marks the conclusion of angstober. i hope everyone reads them has enjoyed the fics as much as i have enjoyed writing them (though some were quite rushed LMAO) here where i live, it's already october 31st, so for those who celebrate halloween, happy halloween and have fun trick or treating !! (mini fun fact: this year, i did a home-made cosplay of choso and offered candy/scared children hehe ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
as a child, you had dreamed that love and marriage meant chaste kisses, long vows filled with love and adoration. you relished in the mirages of stunning dresses, chiming wedding bells and petals falling from heaven. but your hopes and fantasies were dashed when you were offered like a prize to the first harbinger, il capitano.
he was a quiet, stoic man of little words. it was no surprise that the wedding ceremony was subdued, a simple signing of a contract, the scratching of pen on paper replacing the chimes of wedding bells.
you should’ve expected this from a harbinger. he held total control over what you could do. your name as il capitano’s wife was merely a façade.
the weight of your title was a mockery. it was supposed to symbolise power, pride, even admiration from the nobles of snezhnaya, but it only brough you confinement and solitude. you had to ask his permission to leave the house, so you stuck to the shadows of the mansion, a wife in name only.
there were no late-night conversations, endearing glances, romantic dinners under candlelight. in fact, you spent most of your time dining alone, the grandfather clock’s rhythmic beats the only sound in the silence.
sometimes, you sat at your window, hearing the maids gossiping about a new festival in town, their laughter and chatter striking a pang of longing within your yearning heart.
he allowed you material things, but outings were out of the question. with every refusal, every permission denied, the fire in you grew stronger. you wanted to escape this frigid prison and experience life.
he knew of how you would sneak into the warmth of the greenhouse at night, peering up at the night sky of snezhnaya, relishing in the display of lights every night.
but recently, he had noticed footprints in the snow, ones that trailed from beneath your window. his butler informed him of how the madame would often retire early in the night, silence engulfing her quarters, with orders to not disturb her until the morning.
il capitano didn’t think there would be a day when he caught you, sneaking away under the watchful gaze of the stars.
il capitano stood by the floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the gardens like a silent guardian. in the distance, he could see the warm glow of festival lights, the people bustling like ants.
nursing a glass of wine in his hand, il capitano watched the people mill about.
suddenly, in the shadows of the garden, he caught sight of a huddled figure, wrapped in the silken sheets of your blankets. they clung to the shadows, feet treading carefully in the ice cold, white powder.
anger seized him in its ugly grip. how dare you sneak out of the manor, when he provided you everything you could ask for. his clawed hand tightened against the wine glass, almost crushing the fragile object in his grasp.
silently, he abandoned the cracked glass on the nearest table, his furred cloak settled around his shoulders as he stalked towards the door, footsteps echoing with the intent to confront the one who dared to escape from his grasp.
you were so close to the hole in the garden wall, freedom just a mere few steps away.
your movements are stilled as a cold, clawed hand crushes your wrist in its wrathful grasp, fear coursing down your spine, turning you into an icy statue.
“where,” his voice growled, a threatening edge to his voice. “do you think you’re going?”
the cold, no, fear rendered you speechless, your teeth chattering against each other.
“the…the festival,” you manage to whimper out, face grimacing at the force of his grasp on your wrist. you were certain it would be turning tender purple and blue the next morning. your breath was caught in your throat, the last warm puff of air suspended in the air, as though it was holding its breath, waiting to see what the captain would say.
“your little games, it ends here, tonight, in this very garden,” il capitano hisses, his grip unrelenting. under his armour, he could feel how your pulse raced, its rhythm erratic and feeble.
with your remaining hand, you clutched the blanket tighter around you. il capitano could see, underneath, you had donned the plain clothes of commoners.
fury consumed him like a flame. he gave you premium silks from liyue, commissioning the famous lady chiori to design your outfits based on the latest trends. and yet, you lower yourself to the level of those lowly ants and don their filthy clothes.
a muscle twitched in il capitano’s jaw, but your view is obscured by his heavy helmet.
il capitano weighed his choices carefully.
forbid you from leaving and lose your favour or let you go to the festival and risk you running away.
neither seemed favourable to his calculating mind, so he chose to compromise. he would sacrifice his precious time to accompany you to the commoner’s festival.
with a heavy sigh, il capitano relented.
“if you are so intent on mingling with the commoners,” he sighed, voice edged with disdain, “then i will accompany you.”
lit only by the faint moonlight, he watched as astonishment and joy settled into your features, your brows raised in surprise. il capitano, the feared harbinger, would spare a morsel of his time to accompany his wife to a festival hosted by ordinary snezhnaya citizens?
that was unheard of, unprecedented. who knew what rumours the nobles, with an abundance of free time on their hands, would gossip.
the il capitano, going soft for his wife. utterly scandalous.
“but…” the words had barely escaped your lips before you hastily shut your mouth, intent that no more words fell from your lips, lest it cause him to change his mind.
“enough.” his tone was final, leaving no space for argument. “you will have your night, however, you will be under my watch and,” he continued, voice laced with disgust. “you will change out of those filthy clothes before you leave.”
it wasn’t a statement you had wanted, for you didn’t desire to draw attention to yourself when you attended such events, however, something in his voice held a glimmer of a sharp, hidden weapon, a clear warning: this fantasy of escaping would end here, he would not be lenient.
for tonight, your freedom had been granted. you could only pray to the archons that il capitano would feel good humoured enough to accompany you once more, at another time.
summary: sticks and stones may not break your bones, but his family's constant snide comments and degrading remarks were chipping away at your resolve.
word count: 922
a/n: i love when family trauma is able to finally play its part and allow me to write a decent fic and give me ideas LMAO
with a sigh, you unlocked the door, one hand cradling the stack of legal files before taking off your shoes at the doorway and relishing in the quiet of the penthouse. next to your shoes sat a pair of male dress shoes. it seems that reo had arrived home early.
with a crisp clatter, you dropped your keys on the shelf, padding into your study down the hall and releasing the heavy stack of files onto your desk. leaning against your arms, you planted yourself against the table, taking in a steadying breath.
steeling your resolve, you slipped the letter from the top of the pile into your bag.
walking into the kitchen, you found reo, sitting at the high kitchen island, scrolling through his phone.
wordlessly, you slid the letter across the marble surface, watching as reo’s attention shifted from the phone to the letter, before his piercing gaze turned to you.
“what is the meaning of this?” reo asked, turning the letter to you. the words glared back at you, clear as day.
divorce papers.
you sighed, defeat flooding through your body.
“i have nothing else to tell you.” you muttered, head turned away. you couldn’t meet his eyes, otherwise your tears would flow. “i’m tired of this marriage, of everything.”
loud silence filled the room, its tension so thick a butter knife could cut it. you raised your eyes, watching as confusion, hurt and despair chased across reo’s face, before it settled into a mask of mocking disbelief.
“why?” he whispered, voice wavering, anguish colouring his tone.
your heart clenched, the brave face that you tried so hard to maintain crumbled, words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“you don’t understand, reo,” you began, tone thick with guilt and exhaustion. “ever since i married you, into your family, they have placed enormous burden on me. did you even know, that they were pressuring to resign from my job as a lawyer, to bear the son that they so desperately want, just so he can inherit the company in the future? time and time again, they paint me as the villainess. they say that i’m the one controlling you, controlling your freedom!”
your voice rose at the end, breaking through the tranquility of the penthouse.
“i...i didn’t know,” he muttered feebily, voice barely audible. but you could see, in his stance, there was defensiveness, a reluctance to believe that his family had made such demands. “why didn’t you tell me?”
your laughter was a bitter echo in the spacious kitchen.
“how could i tell you that your parents were doing something so scandalous, something that would ruin your family’s pristine, picture perfect image?”
reo broke the eye contact, guilt flashing across his face before defensiveness quickly overtook it. “maybe there’s some other way, some way to fix everything.”
your shoulders slumped, exhaustion weighing down every word as you stared at him.
“you say that now, but you weren’t the one they interrogated, asking me when we would plan on having a son, enduring the snide remarks about marrying into the family for the money and power.”
you paused, taking in a steadying breath. “you would think that grown adults know when the right time to ask such questions would be, but clearly your parents didn’t, since they decided to ask at your five-year old daughter’s birthday party.”
reo opened his mouth to respond, to retort or make an excuse on his family’s behalf, but no sound could escape. you were right, he remembered when he heard snippets of family dinner conversations, how uncomfortable you had looked. silence fills the room, as the weight of realisation settles between the two of you.
“is there no other way?” he whispers, voice raw and strained.
you looked away, your soft heart aching at the plea in his voice. before you can respond, you hear a small quiet voice call out for you.
“mama?” a quiet voice whimpered from the doorway. “are you and papa fighting again?” your daughter stood, clad in her pjs, one small hand clutching her little rabbit plush by the ear, the other blearily rubbing at her eyes.
reo lifted his head up, face contorting into a mask, pretending that everything was ok.
“hello love,” he cooed, voice gentle, the tension in the room dissipating. “no, we’re just talking…about grown-up stuff.”
your daughter took a step forward, bottom lip quivering.
“but you were yelling,” her face scrunched with concern. “mama was crying.” her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears, a pout forming.
you try to hold back the sting of tears as you scooped her into a tight hug, forcing a smile.
“oh my darling, i’m fine,” you assured her. “we’re trying to figure some things out.”
releasing her from your hold, you place your hands on her shoulders, as her head swivels between the two of you, far from convinced, but she slowly nodded her head.
“you’ll be ok, right?” she whispered, as though to assure herself. “we’ll be a happy family!” the innocence in her words twisted the guilty knife in your heart. you couldn’t bear to shatter your daughter’s dreams over the snide comments of reo’s family.
“yes,” reo’s voice was thick and husky with emotion. “we’ll be one happy family!” he echoed, flashing her a soft smile.
the promise lingered in the room, filling the loud silence. for her sake, you would try to keep that promise, but the pressure and hurt his family inflicted on you would never heal over.
summary: he let his anger get the better of him again and once more you were the one he directed his anger towards
word count: 968
C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : injury, implied abuse
a/n: for you @nfekwefdskldm cus you're such a big kaiser simp smh
at the kitchen counter, a pile of steaming dishes in front of you as you sat, staring listlessly into the flickering flame, waiting for michael to come back. in the midst of the banquet sat a singular blue rose in its crystal vase—a flower michael had gotten you last week, to apologise for another fight the two of you had.
the old grandfather clock ticked away, steady like a heartbeat. it was almost 10, way past the time that michael normally came home. your hand itched to call him on your phone, but the memory of last time made your breath hitch in your throat. his fury echoed in your ears: “stop being such a busybody.”
he had come home after with fire burning in his eyes, screaming at you, his words blending into a blur of rage and hurtfulness. as if the verbal assault wasn’t enough to satisfy his anger, he had raised his hand against you. to this day, your cheek bore the scar where his ring had cut deeply into the flesh.
the flame flickered, throwing shadows that danced and taunted you across the walls. you couldn’t go to bed early, he expected you to greet him at the door after all. each second passed with a mix of fear and baited breath.
you were about to doze off, the quiet ambience lulling you to sleep, when you heard the jangling of keys at the front door.
sliding down the bar stool, you padded to the door, quietly greeting kaiser as he entered. but just one glance from him and your words died in your throat. his face was thunderous, frustration emulating from his visage. the look sent a shiver of fear down your spine, as you bowed your head and averted your eyes, shrinking into yourself to make yourself unnoticeable.
it was best if you didn’t anger him further tonight, yet no matter what you did, it seemed to tick him off even further.
he stalked past you wordlessly, slamming the door as he entered his study.
under your breath, you counted silently to 3 before you heard the tell-tale sign of kaiser’s anger. the muffled thuds of books falling to the floor, intertwined with the tingle of pens created a symphony of fury, conducted by the egoist himself.
sighing, you sat down on the large couch, hoping he would calm down soon. on the kitchen table, the food slowly grew cold.
10 minutes, 20 minutes, half an hour passed before the house was finally silent again.
you gave yourself some time before taking in a deep breath and calming your jittering nerves. your worries were rational, no one knew what this wild beast would do in his fits of rage.
tentatively, you knocked on his door. once, twice, thrice. you called out his name, still no answer. you reached out a shaking hand, turning the cold doorknob, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
the chaos of scattered papers and pens, discarded paper weights and overturned chairs were strewn about the room, the remainder of a hurricane. in the eye of the storm, kaiser sat, slumped in his chair, his hands buried in his hair, quietly muttering words of german in anger.
hearing the door open, kaiser’s head shot up, frustration an ugly mask on his face.
“get out!” he roared, slamming his fist on the table. “get out! get out! get out!”
you were too slow for his liking, so he grabbed a nearby book, throwing it in your direction.
time seemed to slow, as you watched the heavy, bound book fly towards your face. pain exploded in bright hot bursts where the corner ripped through your skin, blood flowing freely down your temple.
surprise was etched on your face, as you reached out a trembling hand to your head, fingers staining with your blood. still in a state of white shock, you closed the door with a gentle click.
the door locked away the wrath of kaiser’s anger, but it still echoed in the silence. the sting of the book had turned into a dull throbbing, a ghostly trail of rusted blood on your face.
stumbling into the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of yourself. how had the bright-eyed, cheerful you, turned into this life-less, pathetic ghost of a shell?
gently, you disinfected your wound, hissing at the singing pain that ran through you.
back in the living room, you lowered yourself onto the couch, exhaustion weighing you down. you were tired, you wanted to sleep. to rest. forever seemed like a long enough time.
you were tired of this relationship. you wanted to be free, but your tender heart and lovesick brain believed you could change him for the better. how naïve.
when kaiser had calmed down from his fury, he began picking up the objects strewn around the room.
as he bent to pick down the book lying in front of the door, his fingers came away sticky and coated in blood. your blood.
guilt twisted and gnawed at his insides. once again, he had caused you pain. he was so weak-minded, every time anger consumed him like a flame, you were always the one to bear the brunt of his fury. the bitter taste of defeat was on his tongue.
every time, he promised that he would do better, rein in the anger, but his temper always won. he was weak to anger, quick to give up. that was not the way an emperor should act.
it was also not the way an emperor should treat his empress, he thought bitterly. once again, his fury had caused you to be hurt. how could he make it up to you this time?
for once, he suspected that no matter how grand, how sincere his apologies were, it may never be enough.
summary: finally, it was time to turn you into the perfect little doll
word count: 835
C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, injury/abuse(?)
a/n: this is a continuation of naive little puppy
as you slowly awoke from your nightmare, the warmth of the fire hugged you, feeling slowly seeping back into your limbs.
what kind saviour had freed you from albedo’s cruel clutches?
when your eyes travelled across the room, you realised with a start that it looked familiar. too familiar. the glassware sitting on the tabletop, papers scattered like leaves across the surface of the table. even the bouquet of flowers sitting in the crystal vase was the same as the bunch albedo had bought you, to try and win your heart.
you struggled to throw off the blankets and run, scream, do something, but tight ropes were wound around your wrists, digging into your raw skin. in your mouth, albedo had stuffed another handkerchief, this time taping your mouth so you couldn’t scream, the tape only letting out muffled sounds of distress.
“oh?” albedo’s voice murmured from where he stood, a vial of some mysterious solution in his hand. “you’re awake.”
his voice, with a dangerous edge in it, sends a spark of fear down your spine. albedo watches with amusement as your eyes widen, terror on your face, clear as day.
albedo brings the vial in his hand close to the light, turning it this way and that, a hand on his chin, as though he is contemplating.
“what would happen if i gave you this vial to try? oh, darling, don’t look so afraid.” he cooed, voice mocking. “nothing bad will happen…hm, maybe only a little bit of pain, but it’ll go away after that.”
your breath caught in your throat, your heart thumping erratically. he was mental. insanity personified. yet, try as you might, you couldn’t escape. you were pinned and trapped, like one of the butterfly specimens that he loved to collect so much.
with slow, measured strides, albedo stalked towards the edge of your bed. the mattress submitted to his weight, tilting your body closer to him. your legs kicked out, like a fish flapping out of water.
with a hard smack, they connected with albedo’s shins. satisfaction coursed through you like a bolt of lightning, but your victory was short-lived. enraged, albedo ripped the tape from your mouth without hesitation, lithe fingers manuveuring the handkerchief out of your mouth.
seeing an opportunity, your teeth clamped down on his fingers. with a hiss, albedo’s other hand delivered a swift slap to your face, hard enough to make you see stars. pain exploded across your cheek, a blinding hot pain. you swore you could taste the blood in your mouth.
“feisty little puppy,” albedo’s smooth voice was tight with anger. “you shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
“otherwise,” albedo trailed off, his eyes darkening. “you’ll regret it.”
gripping your face in his unforgiving hold, he tilted your head up, forcing the vial closer to your face. a twisted smirk painted across his face, his calculating eyes trained on your face.
“when you drink this,” he mused, “would you cry? scream? or would you become an obedient and flawless little dog?”
his lips curved into a warped semblance of a smile. a sharp jerk of his wrist and soon, the cool liquid was dripping down from the opening of the beaker and draining into your mouth.
his tight grip was unyielding, his sharp eyes watching as resistance drained from you like a dam broken. you were fatigued but underneath, panic clawed at your chest, slowly being subdued by the fog creeping into your mind.
you gurgled and choked as you tried to stop the solution from running down your throat, but it was all for naught. a wave of terror gripped you. what would this vial do to you? you had seen the past, failed experiments, they never ended well. these thoughts ricocheted in your mind as you choked, the bitter fluid mingling with the blood in your mouth, burning a path down your throat.
albedo’s cold eyes and steel grip trapped you, observing as you drank down the liquid.
when the final drops of solution were emptied into your mouth, albedo released his grip on your face, watching as your head lolled onto the pillow, all the fight escaping your body, leaving you an empty, deflated ghost of a person.
exhausted, your consciousness slipped into a dreamless sleep, never to awake.
his experiment had succeeded.
“it wasn’t so hard now, was it?” albedo cooed, as his gloved fingers caressed your face. “look at you now, so quiet, so obedient.”
you could feel his hands, ghosting across your cheeks, tapping against your lips. your mind, once echoing with the screams of fear and resistance, was now silent, eerily empty. you wanted to scream, fight, cry—but your limbs weren’t yours to command. you were now only a puppet on a string, obeying albedo’s every beck and call.
your eyes remained, staring straight ahead, blank and soulless. underneath the blank stare held your desperation and fear, hoping someone would save you from your fate. he had turned you into the perfect, living doll.
summary: you were so naive, thinking you could run away from him. but he found you, and now, you were going to become an obedient puppy.
word count: 530
a/n: tell me why writing yandere content is lwk super fun :0
the snow crunched under your boots as you ran, the winds howling through the mountains. snowflakes lashed at your face, your breath forming clouds in front of your face.
a snow storm really was not the right time to run, but the fresh snow would cover your footprints. you couldn’t have him finding where you went.
ice clung to your lashes as frost spread across your frozen cheeks. the cold seeped into your bones as your teeth chattered.
your legs were tired, screaming for you to stop and lie down, but you didn’t have the time. when you left, albedo had been immersed in his experiment but you had only a small window of opportunity before he realised you were missing.
‘if he found you…’ you didn’t let yourself finish the thought. a wave of terror coursed through your veins, more frigid than the wind nipping at your skin, a motivation to keep your limbs running.
in a small corner of your brain, the thought haunted you.
if you didn’t take that chance, you would be forever trapped, once he perfected his experiment.
albedo, with his logical and methodical mind, wouldn’t let you go so easily. he would chase you down to the ends of teyvat to find you. the raw, red imprints of the rope cutting into your wrists and ankles were a stark reminder. even now, you could taste the dryness of the handkerchief he had stuffed into your mouth.
you trudged down the mountainside, your eyes drooping with exhaustion, body shivering with cold. you could almost see the foot of dragonspine. surely, this was far enough.
you sought shelter in a hollowed out tree, its tall trunk providing you protection from the snowstorm outside. with the screaming wind tearing through the mountains, you allowed yourself to slip into an uneasy slip.
what a fatal mistake.
albedo had been furious when he found you missing. while his back was turned, busy creating the perfect solution to your disobedience, you had done the one thing he told you not to do.
you had slipped out of your bindings, acquiring the freeom you were entitled to. you left him. abandoned him. just like his mother. fury burned in his stomach as albedo stared at the place where you should’ve been sitting obediently. his gloved hands clenched the glass beaker, cracks spidering across the neck of the beaker.
grabbing his large coat, he left his laboratory, venturing into the raging storm outside.
to his twisted delight, the snow had yet been able to cover the deep footprints, crisscrossing the mountain face as you stumbled down the mountainside.
he found you sleeping peacefully, without a care in the world, curled up in a tree hollow.
what a naive puppy. you thought you could run from him.
with gentle hands, he scooped you up into his arms, engulfing your body with his large coat. he would get you back to his lab, to test out his new creation.
“such a foolish puppy,” he muttered, his voice snatched away with the wind. “you won’t ever leave me.”
he had work to finish, to finally turn you into an obedient puppy that listened to him.
summary: yanqing's curiosity gets the better of him, resulting in jingyuan to reveal a bit of his past
word count: 1.1k
a/n: father jingyuan occupies my thoughts like nothing else
ever since he could remember, yanqing had followed behind jingyuan like a shadow, under his watchful gaze as he trained, ate, even when the general was writing his papers.
as a curious little boy aged ten, he did what any unsupervised child did, when they were left to their own devices for the first time ever.
yanqing’s eyes glowed as he imagined finding legendary sword scripts and long-lost manuals in the bookshelf of the famous dozing general. he started snooping through the vast collection of the general’s books, hoping that behind, or in one of them, he would find the answer to becoming the swordmaster of all of xianzhou.
instead, he found an old and frayed box, worn with age and nestled between two books, which clattered to the floor.
when jingyuan came back into the room, he had found yanqing, crouching on the floor, staring thoughtfully at a box lying on the floor. in his hands, he mercilessly tore at a flower, with every fall of the petal, some words from his mouth.
“i can open it.”
“i ask the general.”
“i can open it.”
“i ask the general.”
raising an eyebrow in amusement, jingyuan silently padded behind the boy, his presence staying unknown.
“yanqing,” his deep voice rumbled from behind, amusement colouring his tone. he crossed his arms against his chest, peering down with a knowing look. “what are you doing?”
like a cat that had been startled, yanqing lept into the air, eyes wide with surprise and cheeks flushed with horror.
“general,” he stuttered, eyes dancing across the room, refusing to meet jingyuan’s, guilt painted on his face. “i just found a box…”
yanqing’s head drooped, his golden hair covering his face, making his expression unreadable.
“i was wondering what it was about.”
it had taken the young lieutenant 3 days of pleading, persuasion and promises of not spending his money carelessly on swords before the dozing general finally gave into yanqing’s puppy dog eyes.
gently picking out the delicate box, the general sauntered towards his seat, dropping into it with the lazy gait of a cat. across the table, yanqing sat perched on his designated armchair, eyes wide with curiosity and beaming with joy. if he had a tail, it would almost fall off with how excitedly he was wagging it.
jingyuan flipped open the box, taking out the contents with care. out of it fell a set of golden rings and a jiāsuǒ.
yanqing watched as his general, no, his father figure’s eyes softened with a far away look.
“yanqing,” jingyuan began, licking his lips tentatively. “today, i’ll introduce you to [name], or in other words, your other parent.”
he had been a young soldier then, fresh from the horrors of war. the sky was bright with the twinkle of stars, artificial light warming in interiors of houses.
as he was strolling down the arum alley, the calming scent of tea floated down with the wind. nearby, he spotted a newly opened teahouse. thankfully, there weren’t many customers inside, with the owner sitting by their counter, their nose buried in a book.
gently pushing open the door, jingyuan entered, sitting down at a nearby table. the owner started in their chair, surprised that a customer had come at such a time.
“what brings you here?” they questioned, tilting their head curiously, as they set down their book with care, picking up a menu and walking over to where jingyuan sat.
oh how funny fate could be, for it was there, when jingyuan crossed paths with the one he was destined to be with.
yanqing watched as jingyuan’s gaze seemed to look beyond him, thinking of warmer times, when his battle wounds were cafeully bandaged with loving hands and the flutter of kisses ghosting across his skin.
the corner of jingyuan’s lips twitched into a wry smile.
“it had taken me a good half a year of persuasion and courting before they finally agreed to go out with me.” jingyuan sighed, amusement evident in his voice.
“you would’ve loved them, yanqing,” jingyuan continued, eyes pooling with sadness. “they’re just like you, the most stubborn yet admirable person i have ever met.”
yanqing remained silent, entrapped in this beautiful love story that jingyuan had begun to weave.
the years passed by slowly. often times, jingyuan wondered how you two became a couple. you were dedicated to your work, while he took the chance to slack off when possible. and yet, your relationship blossomed like a flower in spring.
he had popped the big question during your anniversary dinner, stunning the waiters and customers in the restaurant, while you were left gaping like a fish out of water.
with a flourish, he had knelt down on one knee, presenting beautifully decorated jewel box in front of you, sincerity in his voice as he asked to marry you.
oh how cruel and heartless fate could be.
it gave jingyuan his whole world, yet in a moment, it ripped it away from him, leaving jingyuan alone in this desolate world.
you died in his arms, too young to be taken away. even in your death, you didn’t forget about your work, requesting that he take care of your teahouse.
“when i die,” you smiled up at him, radiance beaming from your face. even in death, you looked like an angel sent from heaven. “i hope you can give everything i hold dear to the one the aeons send in my place.”
from within your hanfu, you produced a protection charm.
“give this to them, when you feel the time is right.”
then, jingyuan had furrowed his brows in confusion.
“àirén,” he whispered, voice cracking with sorrow. “no one would ever be able to replace you. i only need you, please, keep your eyes open, for me!”
looking at yanqing who sat opposite him, jingyuan finally knew the meaning behind your words.
the aeons had sent yanqing in your place, to bring light to his world again.
with a bitter smile, jingyuan gathered up one of the rings into his hand, slipping it onto a chain.
jingyuan beckoned yanqing to hold out his hand, placing the heavy jiāsuǒ into his. yanqing cradled the valuable jewellery like it was an egg, eyes wide with surprise.
“what-,” he stuttered, confusion painted on his face. “why are you giving me this?”
jingyuan’s deep chuckle echoed around the room.
“well,” jingyuan lamented, chuckling into his hand in amusement. “they were great friends with lady fuxuan after all, so she must’ve given them a hint.”
yanqing looked at the precious jiāsuǒ with wide eyes of delight. a gift, from his other parent, specially prepared beforehand for him. even though he would never get the chance to meet them in this life, he could feel the love and comfort the item radiated.
“you really are just like them.” jingyuan laughed, voice filled with mirth. “they would’ve wanted you to have it.”
footnotes:
1. jiāsuǒ (家锁) also called 百家锁 (bǎijiāsuǒ)— a traditional chinese talismanic item that relatives or parents would give to their children, believing it can protect the wearer from harm, misfortune and evil spirits. it is also believed that it can bless them with good luck, longevity and a high ranking.
summary: aventurine has many walls that you have managed to break down, yet even now, he still has his guard up.
word count: 281
a/n: if you cant tell, i clearly haven't finished the penacony quest, mainly cus of school and storage issues for my ipad, but n e ways, hope yall enjoy this
aventurine was used to living with his life on the line, ready for death to plunge him into eternal sleep at any time, by an assassin, a failed gamble, crossing the road at the wrong time.
yet, since you had burst into his life, aventurine had slowly begun to emerge from his shell. during the late nights, when his mind was fogged by drowsiness, he found himself vulnerable to you, words and stories of his past flowing involuntarily from his tongue.
as he relished in your touch, aventurine felt himself lowering his guard, slowly sinking into sleep, lulled by the feeling of your fingers stroking through his hair, the warmth of the blanket tempting him to sleep.
when the moon was high and slipping through the curtains in shards of light, aventurine was lost in the realm of dreams. suddenly, the dip of the bed awoke him, his hand instinctively reaching beneath his pillow for his sheathed dagger. with practised movement, he unsheathed his dagger silently, posed and ready to strike the viper slipping into his bed.
when his brain caught up to his hands, he realised it had been you. your eyes were blown wide, fear evident in your face, as you sat frozen, on your side of the bed. in your hand, you were holding a glass of water that you had gone to get in the middle of the night. the surface of the water sloshed dangerously close against the lip of the cup, as your hand trembled.
it saddened you to know, that despite how much aventurine had put down, how many walls you had knocked down, deep down, he was still on edge, even around you.
summary: he promised to take you to malaysia, to retire and live out your days. yet it was all empty promises and false hopes.
word count: 999
a/n: i hate gege it's official TT why did he kill off nanami :(
a sliver of moonlight streaks through the gap in the curtain, peeking in on the two lovers, limbs tangled together, drawing in the warmth of each other.
you were securely cradled in the gentle hold of nanami’s arms, as the two of you discussed your future plans. the sheets rustled as you shuffled into a more comfortable position, resting your ear against nanami’s chest, listening to his soothing heartbeat.
“we’ll retire after i’m finished with this last mission, then we’ll move to malaysia, far away from this dangerous job of eliminating curses and that vexing idiot, gojo.” nanami promised, conviction in his steady voice.
you chuckled at his statement, envisioning living by the beach, the warmth of the sun shining down on you. your fingers traced doodles of seashells, conches and fish on his chest, tickling him with your soft finger pads.
“but what about your work?” you enquired, tilting your head up to peer at him in the gloom.
nanami squinted down at you, a smile stretched across his face. a deep rumbling vibrated against his chest.
“love, this job plays pretty well and i’ve saved enough to ensure that you can travel and do whatever your heart desires.” he boasted, drawing circles from where his hands rested on your hips. “in fact,” nanami added, after a moment of thought. “we’ll live a lavish life, by the seaside, with a private beach and an infinity pool, so you can swim to your heart’s content. we’ll hire some maids too, so you can get the rest you deserve.”
nanami’s fingers interlaced with yours, as he lifted them from beneath the cosy sheets, littering kisses across your hand.
your other hand tapped rhythms against his chest as you hummed thoughtfully.
“that sounds like a good life,” you agreed.
“but first,” you turned yourself around, stealing some of the blanket from nanami before you propped yourself onto your elbows. “you should get enough rest and be ready to be on call tomorrow.” you tapped his cheek with your finger, placing a kiss at the corner of his lips before you settled yourself back into the warmth of his arms.
long after your breathing had steadied, nanami lay awake, studying your face, etching it into his memories. nobody promised tonight wouldn’t be the last night he would be able to see you, hear your voice, hold you in his arms, so he was going to take all the time he could scrape together, to spend with you.
—-
the next morning, nanami woke up to the sunrays beaming upon his face. his arms felt empty. your side of the bed was cold, meaning you had gotten up early and left. stumbling from the warmth of the sheets, nanami padded into the kitchen to try and find you.
hearing footfalls behind you, you turned around, a smile radiating so brightly from your face it could rival the sun. with a cheeky grin still plastered on your face, you presented nanami the breakfast you had prepared with extra care, bread from his favourite bakery along with eggs just how he liked it and a glass of milk.
despite himself, the corners of his lips turned upwards.
you patted down his suit, adjusting his tie, before leaving a quick kiss on his lips. with child-like mischief, your fingers threaded their way through his hair, tousling his neat hairstyle.
nanami playfully groaned at your actions, a teasing look of disapproval shot towards you, before his arms engulfed you into a hug. he dipped you gently, placing a departing kiss on your lips.
he hoped that he would make it back into your arms after tomorrow.
he never did. every morning, you waited by the door for hours, hoping you would hear the doorbell ring, signalling his return. you grasped tightly to the hope that he would walk through your doors, a small smile on his face as he complained about gojo and his energetic students.
the doorbell never rang.
until one day, it echoed around the house with blazing clarity, not a figment of your imagination.
when you cracked open the door, you’re greeted by three teenagers. you easily recognise them. after all, you’ve heard many fond stories from your husband. the pink-haired, energetic and mischievous itadori-kun, as nanami would refer to him as. the quiet, well-meaning dark haired boy, fushiguro megumi. and the famous kugisaki nobara, who namami had said that you would get along swell with.
what a shame you couldn’t be introduced earlier, on less grim terms.
“um,” yuji began hesitantly, “you’re nanami-sensei’s spouse?” he continued, shuffling awkwardly on the doorstep. behind, megumi and nobara exchanged exasperated glances at each other.
you nodded, inviting them inside for a cup of tea and a sit down. after much hushed discussion and a whack from nobara, the trio agreed, stepping into the house.
they looked around with curious eyes, noting how they could see hints of nanami in the house decor.
seated around the pristine white coffee table, nobara pulled a handwritten letter from her bag, sliding it across to you.
picking it up, your eyes catch sight of what is written on the front.
“to my beloved spouse, the light of my world”
in his elegant handwriting. you thought you had cried enough since he left and never came back, but once again, your throat tightens, as you finally allow the tears that you had been holding back since the trio had entered slip.
the trio are kind enough to look away and give you your moments of privacy to scan through the letter. a shaky sob escapes your throat, as you bring the letter up to your lips, giving it a final goodbye kiss.
the faint scent of his cologne wafts to your nose, a fresh wave of tears springing up.
“thank you.” you whisper. you’re not sure who you’re thanking. nanami, for all the wonderful years he had accompanied with you, since childhood, or the trio, for bringing his final letter to you.
summary: you thought you could be free, spread your wings and fly. but flight, it isn't inherit for all birds.
word count: 350
C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, manipulation, fear, injury, slight quest spoilers (?)
a/n: this was inspired by the 'beauty and destruction' quest, if it isn't obvious enough, i haven't done it, but i've heard voicelines from a playlist i listen to.
what a foolish little dove you were. you thought that your best behaviour and candied words could exchange you the freedom you had wanted. an extra blanket for the cold night, a new book, some more water, all sorted with the clear ring of a bell and good behaviour.
it had taken you a week of good behaviour and light treading, before sunday relented. after all, a bird with clipped wings couldn’t fly, so what harm was there in letting you go out onto the balcony?
what a silly little dove you had been, thinking you could escape from sunday’s clutches by jumping from the balcony.
you gathered up all your courage, choosing a moment when you knew the servants wouldn’t enter. this was it—your leap to freedom.
your body was weightless, a bird soaring into the sky, the wind whipping against your face as the ground rushed to meet you.
then it hit. a sickening crack. the sharp, searing pain tore through your legs, radiating from your ankles. the pain was blinding, tears prickling at your eyes as you curled in upon yourself.
the toes of a pair of well-polished black leather shoes tapped into your eyesight.
“little dove,” sunday’s voice purred, a dangerous edge in his voice. “what were you thinking?”
that was the last thing you remembered, before the pain and darkness consumed you.
when you awoke again, you were lying on the soft mattress of your confines. the pain in your ankle was agony, bright and hot, bringing tears to your eyes. sunday sat on the bed beside you, lovingly stroking your hair.
“shhh…” he comforted, his gloved thumb wiping at your tears. “don’t cry, little dove.”
he leans down, brushing your hair aside and leaving a kiss on your forehead. another, against your cheek.
“you can’t leave, little dove.” sunday whispered, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. “you’ll live here, with me, forever.”
the fall had shattered the dove’s wings, robbing it of its freedom. you writhed, helpless and powerless in your gilded cage, all your fight, all your efforts, it was for naught. you would never escape his clutches.
summary: no one promised tomorrow would come without a mishap, so he came to you, to love you and be next to you, even if it was just for one final night
word count: 551
C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : mentions of alcohol, jjk spoilers
a/n: geto is my fav jjk character frfr :( he needed a happy ending. gege must now pay for my therapy cus wtf was that whole thing (◞‸◟；)
ever since that incident, geto suguru had been secluding himself from everyone else. the last person to have ever seen him was gojo. he was kind enough to send you a final text message.
‘let’s break up.’
so the last thing you expected was to see him in the middle of the night, at your doorstep.
the thump of knocking against your door had aroused your attention. despite it being the ungodly hour of 2 in the morning, you found yourself unable to sleep, instead sitting with a warm mug of hot chocolate, a sappy rom com playing on the tv, while you drew sketches in your book.
cautiously, you peered through the peep-hole, hoping it wasn’t some mass murderer who had decided you were their next target. instead, there stood geto, hair dishevelled and escaping his usual hairstyle.
without hesitation, you threw open the door, ushering him inside before someone saw. seeing his condition, your heart wrenched painfully. he had dark shadows haunting the bottom of his eyes, the smell of alcohol clinging to him.
geto stumbled into your house, large form slumping over your shoulder as you nearly buckled under his weight.
“i told myself i wouldn’t come back,” he mumbled into your shoulder, words slurring with the effect of the alcohol. “but i didn’t know where else to go, i had no one else to turn to.”
you were silent, lending an ear to his inner-most thoughts, allowing him to spill all the emotions he had been building up inside. he righted himself with an effort, gently cupping your face with his larger hands.
“it was stupid of me,” geto sighed, eyes downcast with sadness. “i know i told you that i wanted to break up but…” he broke off with a sigh.
tears glistened in his eyes as his stare bore into yours. “you’re too important to me. i love you so much, but when you’re with me, i’ll only drag you down.”
the sorrow lingered in the air, like the remenents of a burning stick of incense. that was the last thing geto remembered saying before sleep invaded his senses, leaving you to settle this late night visitor into suitable accommodations.
when he awoke, the sunlight was streaming through the curtains, warming his face. he was covered in a fluffy orange blanket, a pattern of chibi black cats adorned with witch hats dancing across the fabric.
a past conversation whispered into his ear as he stared holes into the blanket.
the cats, they look like you, dangerously adorable, you had teased, a delighted smile on your face. geto’s was adorned with a put-out pout, arms crossed against his chest as he dramatically huffed his offence at your comment. that night, it had taken you many kisses and whispered apologies as you tried to win back his favour. needless to say, it didn’t take long before your teddy bear of a boyfriend relented into your pleas.
geto was shaken from his thoughts by the loud pop and sizzle of food frying in a pan. the enticing scent of pancakes wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by the soft melody of your cheerful humming.
maybe, just for one day, he could pretend that everything was just fine.
when it comes time to say goodbye, maybe he could die with a smile.
summary: to spend an eternity with him, was something you could only hope fate was kind enough to grant you in your next life.
word count: 1.7k
a/n: i love archon zhongli smsm, im sorry to all the guizhong lovers for making her evil, but it's for plot purposes alr :( lwk ended up rewriting this like 3 times cus i didn't feel like it was good enough LMAO
when guizhong was there, morax barely spared a glance towards you. her beauty and skill easily outshone yours, rendering you a mere shadow in her presence. it made your heart ache with sadness. she was the sun, you were the moon, silently beautiful.
they were comfortable, guizhong laughing daintily at a joke morax made, hand placed on morax’s arm. she held his attention, like she always did.
“...what do you think, [name]?” the sudden question startled you from your thoughts as you blinked and smiled apologetically.
“sorry, i was lost in my thoughts.” your own voice sounded dull, not tinkling and pleasant on the ears like guizhong’s.
morax’s amber eyes swept over yours, picking up the dejection in your posture, how you seemed uncomfortable, every muscle tense, as though you were ready to flee at any moment.
“i was just considering some new activities we could introduce for the upcoming lantern rite.” guizhong piped up, cheerfulness lacing her tone.
morax nodded in agreement, “guizhong’s ideas were innovative, as expected from the goddess of dust.” he praised.
of course, guizhong would be praised for her brilliant ideas. she was the perfect goddess, flawless in every way. unlike you, whose body was adorned with imperfections, from battles with the enemies of war and your own inner demons.
standing next to her felt like standing next to the sun, bright and warm, while you were the moon, unnoticed, but trying your best. thinking back, you realised that it was a long time since morax glanced at you the same way he looked at guizhong.
to him, you were the reliable goddess of strategy, someone he could always trust to have his back. in his eyes, you were his world, the one who hung up the stars and kept the world turning.
like stone, his faith in you was immovable, he trusted your words and plans for the archon war, to train and teach xiao. but guizhong, she held a different type of beauty, her presence commanded attention, her creations and innovations new and intriguing. he found himself spending more time and attention on guizhong, pushing you aside.
like stone, he was dense. if he had known earlier, had accepted his own feelings and understood why, when he was lost in the sea of people at a festival, his eyes searched for you, how your touch sent sparks of electricity across his skin, then this, all this, could’ve been avoided.
poor cloud retainer. she pitied herself. how did she, the clever, unparalleled adepti, become chained down by two idiots for friends? it was clearer than day that the two of you harboured feelings for each other, but how did neither of you realise.
it was time for her to be the perfect wingwoman and start her matchmaking career earlier than anticipated, before she lost the chance.
the tea had been poisoned. from the faint curve of guizhong’s lips, her eyes, alert and watching as you downed the cup she had given you, it was so obvious a five-year old could guess.
but you were preoccupied, the slip of paper your messenger pigeon delivered sat on your desk, strewn about with papers on war strategies and your mind racing through all the reasons why he wrote that message.
‘come meet me at the pavilion balcony. xiao will come find you.’
xiao escorted you along the path, the two of you discussing his training, for morax had entrusted you, the goddess of strategy, to be his teacher.
the terrain to the pavilion was difficult, you found yourself panting for breath. halfway up the mountain, the path began to twist and turn under your feet, sweat beading on your forehead. you tripped, feet stumbling over the stones of the path, each step weighing down on your feet.
xiao reached out, brows furrowed in concern.
“is everything ok, shīfu?” xiao’s quiet voice cuts through the ringing in your ears.
you lean against the stone face, shaking your head.
“i must be too tired.” you assure him, though your voice was tight with pain. “you little rascal and morax, always keeping me on my toes, overloading my desk with work.” you jested, playfully poking xiao in the side. “let me rest for a bit and we can keep going.”
pausing, you take in several shaking breaths. xiao’s golden eyes remained fixed on you, concern reflecting in his amber eyes.
with an effort, you pushed yourself off the stone face, marching onwards. xiao crouched in front of you, offering to carry you on his back. you stubbornly disagreed.
“whoever heard of a disciple carrying their master?” you teased, though pain was etched in the lines of your forehead.
xiao hesitated, his eyes flickered between your pale face and the inclining path ahead, but he respected you. thus, he fell into step beside you, ever watchful.
shadows crawled into your vision, blurring the edges and twisting the view of the path. a sudden wave of lightheadedness forced you to your knees, the world spinning sideways. xiao’s quick reaction caught you, leaning you against his shoulder.
“shīfu,” his tone filled with a rare edge of worry and fear. “you’re in no condition to continue.”
you shook your head. “i can do it, it’s going to be fine.” you didn’t know if this was to reassure yourself or xiao, but the sentence repeated itself like a mantra in your head.
the sun slowly set, painting the surrounding mountains with stunning shades of orange and gold, before the deep velvet of night overtook it, stars twinkling in the sky, the moon a watchful guardian.
with xiao supporting your weight, you stumbled up the last few paces up to the pavilion, not noticing the tall figure already present.
your heartbeat raced in your chest at an uncomfortable pace. the hollow thuds rang in your ears, mixing into a clashing melody with the piercing ringing. it made you feel nauseous, bile rising in your throat. you clawed at your chest, hoping it would slow down.
with a heave and a wretch, you threw up, the scarlet liquid splattering on the pristine stone tiles underfoot.
startled by the noise, morax spun around, amber eyes falling upon your trembling figure. xiao’s golden gaze, usually so calm and steady, now radiated desperation a silent plea for help.
for a heartbeat, morax stood frozen with shock. then, without a second thought, his posture of elegance thrown to the wind, morax races towards you.
he dropped to his knees, sinking to the floor, gently cradling you in his arms, gloved fingers gently tapping against your cheek, desperate to keep you awake. his voice trembled as he chanted your name, praying to the stars you would stay with him.
“[name],” he murmured urgently. “wake up, look at me.”
through the fog of pain and exhaustion, you felt the warmth of his embrace radiating, a familiar voice cutting through the pain. his scent–earth, osmanthus and tea…no, the scent of home–wrapped around you like a hug. you squinted up at him, your body feeling impossibly heavy, darkness threatening to bring you under.
“morax,” you breathed, chest heaving as you fought for breath. “i came…to see you, as you asked.”
morax looked at you in confusion. “wasn’t it you who asked to see me?” he questioned.
confusion surfaced on your face, until you realised who the mastermind behind this meeting could’ve been. you chuckled, clear and bright, gave way to violent coughing, which left you gasping for air.
“it must’ve been cloud retainer then.” you wheezed, breath struggling. “sly crane,” you teased, voice devoid of malice or hate. “this is her way of meddling.” you manage a wry smile.
you don’t give morax a chance to reply before you’re speaking again, holding a finger to his lips as words gushed from yours like a fountain.
“you know, i’ve liked you for a long time,” you confessed, your words carrying the weight of years of longing. “so long. i’d always hoped that you would look at me the same way, but you never did. seeing you with guizhong all the time breaks my heart.”
your chest tightened painfully, each breath a battle, but you fought on. “you mean everything to me, but i dont mean anything to you. i see the way you look at her, i hope she brings you joy.”
you open your mouth to speak again, but cold droplets that land on your face interrupt you from speaking. with an effort, you tilt your head up, watching the tears cascade down morax’s face.
with a trembling hand, you reach up to wipe his tears. morax’s hand envelops yours, his warm hand contrasting against your cold, clammy skin.
morax’s breath hitched, as his amber eyes searched yours. you open your mouth to say something more, but morax interrupts you.
“no,” he breathed. “i do love you too, i think,,” he pleaded, “ if you give me some time, let me work this out slowly.”
“i want to,” you breathed out. “but i dont know if i have time left. i’m cold.” you snuggled deeper into morax’s embrace, uncertainty weighted in your heart. you could feel your life slipping away, the edges of darkness creeping closer.
“im tired.” you mumble, your voice barely a whisper. “i’ll just…sleep a little while…”
“shīfu,” xiao’s trembling voice broke through the silent night, “please, don’t leave me yet.”
you peel your eyes open, turning your head in xiao’s direction, motioning him to come closer. obediently, xiao approaches, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall.
“shǎháizi,” you breathed, voice light with teasing. “listen well to morax, he will be your new master from now on.” you instructed, hand reaching out to pet his head. “smile for me?” you mustered a weak smile that xiao reflected, his own sorrow mingled with hope.
a final bought of violent coughing tore through your body, each one sending pain sparking through your body. blood spilling from your lips. the metallic taste filled your mouth, mixing with the bitter taste of fear as darkness overtook you.
your eyes fluttered shut as the life left your body. in the distance, a star fell out of the sky, its tail trailing like a sorrowful goodbye.
“[name]?” morax whispered, voice raw with regret. “open your eyes, look at me.” his plea fell on deaf eyes. “you never heard my response, you can’t leave me yet.”
“i think…no, i know, that i do love you.”
fate was cruel, you had found your forever, but at the wrong time. someday, perhaps fate would grant us a second chance.
footnotes:
1. shīfu (师傅) — meaning master or teacher, this word is often used in chinese to express respect to someone who is skilled in a particular area or field.
2. shǎháizi (傻孩子) — "shǎ" meaning foolish (傻) and "háizi" meaning child (孩子), this word can be used as a term of endearment, meaning foolish child
a/n: which clown pulled for dan heng IL just because his design was really pretty? totally not me !! n e ways take this attempt at a dan heng fic.
the gentle, quiet melody of the CD was seeping into the sleeping quarters of the astral express. its inhabitants were deep in sleep. suddenly, with a horrid screech, it halts. an unnerving silence settled over the sleeping quarters. when the disk starts revolving again, a haunting xiaozhou melody sings from the player.
dan heng lies asleep in his bed, where he finds himself in his own dreamscape. a ghost of a figure haunts his, no, dan feng’s dreams.
they stare into his soul with lifeless eyes, silent in their approach.
even without the memories of his past lives, he knew who you were. his lover. or rather, dan feng’s. his gentle, beautiful lover, who offered him unconditional affection, who was always so understanding of him.
you, whose soft hands brushed at his tears when they fell, massaged away the headaches that accompanied the arduous role of being a high elder.
your love story was spread far and wide in the xianzhou. many children and young couples aspired to have such a fantastical and romantic love. the two of you were the envies of all lovers. the citizens watched as their high elder, always so cold and judicial in his mannerisms, would soften and gaze at you with the warmest look in his eyes, how the fearsome dragon elder became but a mere puppy in your presence.
in danheng’s fragmented dreams, short films of your love played before him, reminding him of every tender moment. times where you were his sole supporter and believer. the seconds of eternity where you would sneak into his office, a boxed lunch, fresh from the stove, cradled in your hands.
the dreams were bright and warm, like the soft touch of spring, flowers booming in his chest.
the fragile flowers, their buds just beginning to bloom, are swallowed by the cold touch of frost, the lively blooms blackening and withering.
in danheng’s fragmented nightmares, he caught glimpses of your demise. your warped screams echo in his mind, bloody hands clawing at the hem of his coat. he hears your voice, begging for mercy.
the nightmares were cold and lonely, like ice seeping into his veins, cutting into his soul and heart.
as he dreams, blade’s voice echoes in his mind.
“you always knew the price better than any of us.” he hissed, his voice a serpent’s hiss, slithering in his thoughts. “that’s why you sacrificed her.”
“you killed her, for the sake of your planet.” blade taunted, his laugh grating in danheng’s ear. “YOU KILLED HER, WITH YOUR OWN TWO HANDS.”
dan heng squeezed his eyes shut, the blackness of his dreamscape pressing in on him, suffocating him. he covered his ears with his hands, tugging and clawing at his hair, to get your echoing screams out of his mind.
he felt a warm liquid running between his fingers. dan heng held his trembling hands in front of him, watching as blood stained his hands, the bloody spear gripped with shaking fingers.
kneeling by his feet was your lifeless body, a bloody hole where your heart should be. your eyes are fixed ahead, mouth contorting into words that cut his heart deeper than any sword.
“dan feng. how could you.” you breathed, eyes swimming with hurt. “i thought you loved me.”
with a start, dan heng woke from his dreams. the xianzhou lullaby ceases.
drawing his knees up to his chest, dan heng presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.
“spare me, please,” dan heng pleads to the empty room. “let me forget my past.”
no one responds, but in the depths of his mind, he seems to hear a soft whisper.
“i’m sorry…please don’t forget me.”
the room was silent, but the weight of his past lay burdened on dan heng’s mind.
summary: everyone else had abandoned him, but you always stuck true to him.
word count: 1k
a/n: proud to be a scaramouche simp AND wanderer haver !! dont question the lore aspect of this fic, idk myself asw LMAO
the two of you were but mere pipsqueaks when you met.
your older brother, morax, had just ascended to godhood and was too busy with the affairs of his new nation to be able to carefully look after his baby sister. likewise, ei was too caught up in her pursuit for eternity to care for her newly made puppet.
so, what better option was there for them than to let the two of you fend for yourselves together? being lumped together from a young age, and being innocent and naive meant that the two of you relied on each other, the two of you against the world.
you were there when his mother, no, creator, had discarded him. he had no strength, only a pure soul, one that had not yet been tainted by the cruelty of the world. his tender heart had been broken.
like a pet thrown out onto the street, kunikuzushi found himself always making his way back home, tracing the familiar steps to the shrine, sitting outside, pitifully waiting in the rain.
beside him, you sat quietly, offering him silent company. despite the bone-chilling cold, you offered him a hug, the warmth of your love engulfing him, a shield against the uncaring world.
as the both of you awaited for some sliver of hope to shine in the dark clouds of despair, you would pet his head and sing quiet lullabies as it lay on your lap, salty tears leaking from his eyes. he didn’t know puppets could cry.
hope never came. the almighty shogun had abandoned her creation forever, condemning him to live among mortals, whose short lives meant death, a premature one when compared to his immortal lifespan.
the bitterness of betrayal consumed a portion of his heart.
kunikuzushi had trusted him. his friend, katsuragi.
they had promised to be family, a happy little family. tiny kuni, katsuragi and small [name].
so why? why did he tremble in fear now, when he saw kunikuzushi approach him?
it used to be cheers of happiness.
“little kuni!” he would greet, waving his arm in greeting, looking like a comical sight. a wide grin would mirror onto kunikuzushi’s face. someone had finally accepted him and [name] for who they were, looking past the non-human features and seeing their fragile hearts and souls.
katsuragi didn’t hate him for his porcelain skin and ball joints. he didn’t hate [name] for her strange, draconic horns. they were loved, remembered, as the blacksmith and his friends presented them with a beautifully decorated cake.
“to commemorate our year of memories together.” he had declared.
how cruel. how heartless of him, to take the hearts they had trustingly bestowed upon him, crushing it in his grip.
the crystalline pieces fractured, shards of a puzzle that could never be pieced together again.
his betrayal had taken a toll on kunikuzushi’s soul. tears rained down onto the ground as he clutched at your clothing with tight fists.
with warm words and soothing lullabies, your gentle touch and the feeling of home lulled the worn out puppet into sleep.
kunikuzushi was heartbroken. he was scared of this ugly nature of humans. no. he wasn’t scared. he was angry. angry at this cruel world.
he was falling into a dark abyss. curse this wretched world, for carelessly throwing his heart around.
the little boy. oh how naive and innocent he was, a fledgling chick, learning to fly.
kunikuzushi and [name] had found the sickly boy sheltering in your small, rundown, forgotten house on one of the many islands of inazuma. he was plagued with illness, not even your knowledge of medicine could cure him.
yet, you still pressed on, nourishing the little boy with lavender melons and a banquet of dishes. kuni often volunteered to go forage for different fruits, proudly bringing back the herbs he had picked in the wilderness.
once, you were even lucky enough to buy a small doll that resembled kuni.
that day had been the little boy’s birthday. you were on your daily trip to the local market when you caught sight of it. with care, you nestled the doll between the ingredients you had bought for the cake.
as the little boy blew out the candles on the sad, slightly lopsided birthday cake, he wished that he could stay with the two of you.
“we’re family now.” he had grinned at you, his two missing front teeth all the more prominent. “we’re going to be together forever and ever.”
how naive and innocent you were.
in the night, you tried to ignore the bone-chilling, hacking coughs that resonated in the empty manor. the worsening coughs that raked through his body, leaving him pale and shaking.
every night, you questioned the gods. if they were so benevolent and kind, why? why rip this young fledgling from his nest and toss him into the harsh world? what twisted sense of joy did it bring?
once again, the two of you foolishly bared your newly-mended hearts to humans, only for it to be crushed underfoot.
humans can’t be trusted. it took three betrayals before you finally understood.
a soft, porcelain heart, in this unjust world would only lead to pain and suffering. only by hardening his heart into stone, could the puppet withstand the test of human nature.
“you can’t leave me like him, [name],” kuni’s hoarse voice pleaded, gripping you as though you would disappear. “promise me.”
a link of your pinkies and you promised him, but a flicker of hesitation flitted through your eyes.
from that day on, scaramouche clung tight to you, you were his lifeline in this ugly world. the only thing pure and deserving of his love. he cast away his vulnerable and foolish younger self, burying his heart with his own two hands.
good riddance to the rest of the world, the world that he would curse at and denounce. but you, you would always have to stay by his side, in life and in death.
he would do anything to keep you near him. chain you, shackle you beside him, go to hell and back, anything so you wouldn’t abandon him, like all the others did.
his heart was cold and black, impenetrable like rock. but even a stone could retire under the erosion of time, becoming pure like the most exquisite of gems.
summary: to him, everything was transactional, even your relationship
word count: 677
a/n: tried pulling for kinich w my limited savings of primos, but my kinich was a hydro astrologist who is broke like me :(
the symphony of birdsong and fires crackling in their braziers was rudely interrupted by angry shouting. the tribes members remained nonchalant, though a peek at their faces could show you how their eyes lit up with delight, their ears straining to hear more of the arguing.
recently, the tribe members noticed that a certain couple were arguing more and more frequently. the aunties internally danced in delight at the sound of gossip, though on the outside, they shook their heads severely and muttered their disappointment under their breath.
uncaring of the mutterings of the tribe, in the hidden sanctuary of your hut, the rising volume of arguing was becoming unbearable.
ajaw sighed as he heard the two of you arguing again. he obediently put himself into timeout to ensure that he didn’t get caught in the crossfire. last time that happened, he had been rudely grabbed and thrown out of the open window, before said window was slammed with a force hard enough to shatter the glass.
perhaps the honeymoon period of your relationship was nearing its end.
once again, kinich had cancelled on your date night due to a commission he had received. his excuse? the commission was more valuable than your date night.
you could curse your lovesick heart for putting you in such a position. truth be told, you had known what you were signing yourself up for when you agreed to date the bearer of the malipo name. everything to them had to be weighed carefully. they couldn’t bear getting the short end of the stick.
this flaw had become a hurdle in the way of your relationship. time and time again, kinich would prioritise an urgent assignment he had received over your own dates and needs, believing that his argument of ‘it’s more valuable’ could be applicable for everything.
“i can’t believe we’re having this argument again!” you yellowed, voice hoarse with how long the two of you had been arguing. your fists were clenched by your side, fingernails digging crescent moons into your skin
“you need to understand, this commission is a better deal.” kinich shot back, brows furrowed in anger, his arms crossed against his chest.
“you’re always prioritising your deals and commissions over me.” you pointed out, hurt evident in your voice.
“because they are more important, these commissions are what earns me money.” kinich affirmed, face impassive. “anyways, you’re not one to talk, you’ve cancelled on me last minute more than ajaw has been obedient and listened to me.”
hearing those last words, heat coursed through your body, fury making you see red. you slammed your hands on the table top, the chair you had been sitting on toppled behind you.
“you’re no better, everything in this relationship to you is a transaction. a careful consideration of what would benefit you more.” your words cut deeply into kinich.
with a deep sigh, you deflated, all the fight draining from you as you sink your head into your hands.
“i’ve had enough of this. i’m tired. so tired of all this arguing.” your voice broke as you tried to fight back the tears.
trying to pick up what was left of your dignity, you gathered some essentials, before heading outside, disappearing into the darkness.
kinich slumped in his chair, shoulders hunched over, his mind racing with a million thoughts. his brows furrowed, but for a second, his anger flickered, guilt overtaking his emotions before it was buried under by his frustration.
‘am i really in the wrong? should i go after them? no, they’re being dramatic as always.’
an ominous feeling gnawed at his chest, but he chose to ignore it, his pride and dignity as a name bearer holding him back. nothing bad could happen. you were smart and capable. he trusted you to return back into his arms safely.
his fingers danced restlessly across the table, the ticking of the clock creeping under his skin, dread settling cold and heavy in his stomach.
he should’ve listened to his gut feeling. he should’ve gone after you that night.
summary: he would hunt you down to the ends of the earth, just to bring you back to your rightful place beside him
word count: 478
a/n: ofc i had to make him yandere, like have you NOT seen him when he was balladeer??? (so sexy oml). this piece can be read as a continuation of this piece (anyone but you)
you had thought that if you could run to the other side of teyvat, he would stop chasing you.
oh how foolishly wrong you were.
scaramouche’s changes scared you. his thirst for power was insatiable, like a wild fire that had quickly grown out of control. the fire consumed him in every way, burning away the innocent, wide-eyed kunikuzushi, leaving behind only the heartless, cruel balladeer.
he yearned to be worshipped like a deity, with mortals bowing and grovelling at his feet. he wanted to feel powerful, to show to the god who had cast him away his true worth.
his pursuit of power made him greedy, blinding him from everything he had and held dear. distancing him, from you.
how he hated your empty promises and blatant lies.
you promised that you wouldn’t leave him, that you would always remain by his side.
so how was it, that now, he was hunting you down, sending his soldiers hot on your trail like a pack of hunting dogs?
like a rabbit with rabid dogs chasing at its heels, you scampered, ducking beneath branches and tearing carelessly through bushes, no heeding the clawing fingers of the branches, that sliced through your skin.
you could run, yes, but you could never, NEVER hide from him.
your breath fogged up in the chilly air, the cold seeping through the clothes you had thrown on in your panic. clutching your clothes tighter against your body, you carefully scaled the mountain.
one wrong move, one slip of the foot, and the soldiers would track you down, binding you and presenting you to their lord like a prized prey.
you pressed on, the frost clinging to your eyelashes, your cheeks, your nose.
you were not going to turn back.
every day you lived in fear.
you were thousands of kilometers away from him, but still you chose to venture out of the house with your hair and face obscured by a hood, throwing glances behind you as though someone watched your every move.
every twitch of the shadows had you tensing, ready to run at any sight of danger. some nights, you feared sleep, afraid that his men would snatch you from your bed. yet, as you slowly settled into your new life, your defences began to crumble.
you were thousands of kilometers away from him, the oceans and desert separating you from the cold wasteland he inhibited.
surely, you were safe now.
what a dumb little bunny you were.
you had thought yourself free of his grasp. separated by oceans and rivers and deserts, there was no way his soldiers could reach you.
yet, in the twisting shadows of the alleyways, peeking through the boarded up windows, eyes always scrutinsed your every move, like a hunter, keeping watch with a careful eye, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
