Here is my list of rules regarding requests! I’m pretty flexible, so ask away.
What I Do Write
I’ll typically write x reader fics and I do try to make them gender neutral to my best ability, but I am a girl so sometimes I default to female pronouns without realizing.
I’m always down to write headcannons when requested (only 2 characters per request), otherwise I usually stick to fics.
The Fandoms I’m currently willing to write for are Genshin Impact and Honkai impact.
Au’s! Give em to me, those are the shit
Fluff, Angst and slight NSFW (nothing hardcore)
What I Don’t Write
Incest
Pedophilia
Yandere
Characters I don’t know
Toxic behaviors
Thats pretty much it for now
Always be polite while requesting! A little bit of kindness really goes a long way!
“I have a bed I never use, you could borrow it if you like.” Xiao stated, not really giving it a second thought. Well, that was until a moment of silence passed between the two of them. Then… Then it really hit him.
Xiao, you are the last remaining Yaksha, one of the adepti. What in the name of Rex Lapis, are you doing?
“Xiao... I never expected you to invite me to bed. Oh my, we aren’t even wed!” The anemo archon teased, and Xiao was fast to whip his head in the bards direction. There was that stupid grin on his face that Xiao couldn’t get out of his head.
You are a member of the high society in your city, and you have all gathered at a ball. A mysterious young man with ginger hair approaches you and asks for a dance. What shall you do?
(Don’t mind me I’m just WHIPPED, someone send help pls my brain is going brrrrrr. Anyways take the things I think about on a very sleep deprived night. Okay I’ll shut up now, take my offerings.)
There is nothing like the regal atmosphere of a ball. Perhaps you would have enjoyed it if you had been with someone you cared for, but you were simply surrounded by those who stood with you in the upper class of society.
You stood by yourself at the sidelines, staring mindlessly at the dance floor. The drink in your hand wasn’t bad, but you weren’t necessarily thirsty. It was more of a distraction over all else. Glancing down at your glass, you barely notice the man who had approached you.
“Why the glum look, gorgeous?”
Your eyes immediately snap upwards, meeting a gaze of pure oceanic blue. Unfamiliar blue eyes, but stunning nonetheless. A tall man with ginger hair, one who you had not even the slightest recollection of. An amused smile played on his lips, just by the sight of it you could assume he was one to be rather playful.
“Quite the way to start a conversation.”
You couldn’t have missed the chuckle slipping past his lips even if you wanted to. There was something so bewitching about the sound itself. There was no way you were already falling for this man who you had barely just met.
“I was only pointing out what my eyes told me. But, I couldn’t help but wonder what someone like you was doing all alone. Perchance your escort is busy?”
“Oh please, save the flattery. I didn’t come with an escort.” Something was off putting about his gaze. You felt as if it was almost dangerous. The way his eyes zeroed in on you as if you were his next target. It may have been a mistake to disclose that information.
The most concerning thing was that he was the only person there who you didn’t recognize. Life in high society was gated, you knew everyone and everyone knew you. But, you were sure you would have remembered talk of a new ginger climbing his way up the ladder of riches.
“Oh, well that’s no fun, where’s the point in getting all dolled up then?” Something about that line sparked a fire in your chest.
“I do not need someone to be the reason I chose to get dressed up.” There was a bitter tone in your voice. Being born into your social class, you hadn’t dealt with the adversities which other women had to experience for a taste of money. There was no need to look good for someone else, to act proper and to stay in your place. Needless to say, you would not stand for the treatment of women being below that of a mere man.
To your surprise, he smiled at your response. “Rather feisty, are you not? I quite like it.”
That statement went straight to your heart, oddly causing it to flutter. You hadn’t expected him to compliment you for your brazen attitude. This was becoming strange.
Outstretching a hand towards you, he gazed at you with a bit of a devilish smirk. “Care to join me for a dance? I promise I don’t bite,” he reassured, knowing it was only mentioned to cause a shade of pink to arise on your cheeks.
You considered your options for a moment, and you knew he saw the hesitance in your eyes. You felt like his prey, and you couldn’t but ask why you out of all the people he could have possibly chosen. But, in the end, what did that matter? He was asking you for a dance.
You reached over and placed your hand in his, putting your glass down on a nearby table. You watched the smile on his lips slightly grow as he led you along to the dance floor.
As the two of you reached the middle of the dance floor, you couldn’t help but feel the eyes of your acquaintances land on your back. They must have been just as confused as you were on who the man holding your hand was. Yet, as your mind slightly drifted, he tugged you closer towards him. This quickly caught your attention and he smiled down at you.
His free hand reached behind you, fingers barely ghosting your spine as they ran from the small of your back, down to your waist where his hand then stayed. Biting the inside of your cheek to keep your lips shut, your free hand landed on his shoulder.
And so the two of you began to sway to the music. You couldn’t help but be taken aback slightly by his capabilities. He took charge and soon it became a battle between the two of you for dominance.
“Care to answer why I have never seen you around?” You were first to start with the questions and he could only let out a chuckle, twirling you around before pulling you close to his chest.
“I’m sure you have already realized that I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Perhaps I have. So then, intruder, what shall I call you?”
There was a slight silence between you two as the music called for a grand move, and this man was none to disappoint. You shouldn’t have been surprised by him lifting you by the waist to showcase you to the whole room. He was rather showy, wasn’t he? Placing you down, he then pulled you flush against him, lips ghosting over ear.
“It would be lovely to see those pretty lips of yours mutter the name, Childe.” He murmured into your ear, pulling away quickly, not giving you enough time to quell the blush on your cheeks.
Shaking your head slightly to try and get rid of the now strange thoughts filling your mind, you responded with your own name. You were being foolish. He had already disclosed that he was an outsider, someone who had snuck their way into this grand event. But, you couldn’t deny there was something captivating about him.
Sooner than you would have liked, the song came to an end and both of you came to a halt. With your hand in his, he bowed slightly to place a kiss on the back of your glove. His eyes glanced up at you, a smirk on his lips. “Shall we meet again another day?”
“W-what?” You were barely able to sputter out before guards came bursting through the door, yelling that there was an uninvited guest. As you had been distracted, you barely noticed Childe slip away from your grasp and towards the nearest open exit.
After having realized his absence, your head whipped around the room in search of him, only to see him standing atop the railing of the balcony. A gasp fell from your lips, but there was something about the look in his eyes which reassured you to not worry for his safety.
He winks in your direction, before jumping off into the dead of night.
At the age of fourteen, Ajax was enrolled into the Fatui military by his concerned father. They dared to challenge him for initiation, so he swore to show them who he was, and where he stood.
{3400 words}
Shallow breaths fell from his lips, thin fog slightly clouding his vision. For a moment the shades of purple and red seemed to mix with the pure white snow behind them through the puffs of haze seething through his teeth. Fresh adrenaline trickled into his bloodstream as a hand reached up to loosen the soft, red scarf around his neck, a replacement for the one which he had shredded to pieces in the midst of a previous battle. “I don’t need it,” Ajax insisted, letting it slip from his neck to the snow covered ground below his boots. It landed soundlessly compared to the crunch of the white beneath his shifting feet.
Squinting his eyes, splotches of colour formed proper images. Fatui agents to be exact. They surrounded the fourteen year old and for a moment, Ajax seemed to forget what exactly was going on. He could only feel the twitch of his lips as they curved upwards. The dry feeling of anticipation in the back of his throat. The cold bite of the frigid Snezhnayan wind against his now bare neck and chin.
One hand rested in his pocket, firmly gripping his newly obtained vision. He was sure his knuckles had turned white, he could feel its sharp edges digging into the flesh of his palm. Don’t get him wrong, he did not grip it from fear, his excitement simply got the better of himself. He wanted to rock back and forth on his heels like a child that couldn’t wait patiently for Christmas Eve to pass. Even so, he held himself back. His eyes lacked anxiety, his stature lacked weakness and his grip on the vision in his pocket never loosened.
They seemed to chuckle at him. “What could a mere boy do to me?” They must have thought, letting murmurs of pointless gossip fall from their lips. Had they come to put him in his place the moment he stepped foot into their domain? Well, he couldn’t find any other explanation for the way his toes almost curled with suspense under their gaze. As disgusting as the underhanded ways of the Fatui were to the young boy, a part of him felt comfortable there, underneath all of their judgemental eyes. Like a sinner placed at the gates of heaven waiting to be dropped to the depths of hell by the hand of God. But, he was ready to claw his way back up to the top.
They taunted him, threats sounding like nothing but alluring promises of battle to his warped ears. All their eyes were on him, he was the center of attention, he was the sun and they were no more than purposeless planets. Their undivided attentiveness was on him, his trial, his capabilities. How enticing. Something in him felt fed by their looming eyes, something which he knew could never be satiated. A hunger that would only grow as time went on. Yet, he found nothing wrong in it. They wanted to see him, of course they did, who didn’t? And, how eager he was to quench their curiosity.
Yet, even as he relished underneath their judgement, there was a heavy feeling on his back. His fathers gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” Ajax urged himself to believe. But, what would his father think, watching his third son fight with nothing but a disgusting smile on his face? Would his father go home, murmuring to the boy’s mother about their monster of a child? Would his siblings overhear and grow to despise him for his insatiable thirst for the thrill of battle? He wished to tell his father to go back, to leave him there and that he would be fine. But, the boy had no chance to even consider doing so, as the members of the organization slowly approached him.
A hand which would have usually reached to grasp the nearest weapon-like object met nothing but air, feeling the breeze slip through his palms which had become coated in a thin layer of sweat. Only for a moment, panic flashed through his limbs, causing him to freeze for a second before he once again hardened his demeanor. There was no room for hesitance, and perhaps he would have to get a little crafty this time.
Tugging his other hand free from his coat pocket, he revealed his hydro vision which had been firmly clutched in his hand. Opening his palm, he noticed a small smear of blood against the silver metal which framed the vision itself. He had cut his palm on its sharp edges out of sheer excitement and anticipation, but it wouldn’t only be stained with his own blood for long.
He hadn’t the slightest clue how to properly use his vision. So far, he had created some poorly shaped water sculptures and weapons which shattered like the thin ice resting atop of a lake in the summer of Snezhnaya. He could almost hear the giggles of his siblings, watching him drench himself as the vision failed on him. He held no resentment, in fact it was the opposite. He looked back on that memory rather fondly. But, that wasn’t what was important at the moment. The vision’s capabilities wouldn’t be of much use to him in this battle considering his lack of ability to control it. Oh well, that was fine. The metal surrounding the vision was sharp enough for his liking.
He watched his opponents pause slightly at the sight of the vision clutched tightly in his palm. He watched amused smiles falter only for a moment before they began moving towards him once more. Were they worried? Slightly scared due to the vision in his hand? Sure, those with visions were viewed as exceptional. People acknowledged by the Gods themselves. Ajax couldn’t help but wonder why the Gods even glanced in his direction with their divine eyes. He was already awaiting the hands of Satan to drag him back into hell, not for the Gods to gift him more power to aid in his immoral pursuit. Even so, it was him who they should have feared, not the useless little thing. He would get that point across, he swore it. So, he wasted not another moment and advanced towards his enemies.
He started with a slow walk towards one of them, hearing the snow grind underneath his boots. The once heavy footwear now felt light as air, as did the thick garments covering his body. He felt on cloud nine as they approached him with nothing but malicious attempt. But, they were going too slow for his tastes. So, his feet began to hasten.
They all stood taller than him, even with the distance between them Ajax was able to tell. But, their leverage over him was nothing compared to the size of the beasts he fought in the epitome of limbo. The Abyss.
Soon enough his fast paced walk had burst out into a sprint in the direction of his first target. He didn’t even feel the burn of the frigid Snezhnayan wind entering his lungs at a fast pace. Nor did he feel the cold nip at his bare fingertips. The only thing he now felt was the cloth of his enemies outfit grazing the back of his hand as he threw his first attack. He quickly shifted to dig the bone of his elbow into their gut, hand gripping the vision sweeping up to slash up at their chest. While it didn’t reach skin, it tore through their clothing, leaving their chest now exposed. A look of surprise coated their features, maybe Ajax had gone a little too fast for their liking. But, they had no time to react as the boy momentarily scoffed before reaching his other hand up to throw a heavy punch to their face.
They quickly fell to their knees, blood from their now presumably broken nose staining the perfectly white snow beneath them. Ajax didn’t dawdle and was swift to turn around as survival instincts took over. And, to his pleasant surprise a man had made his way over, hands raised in the air above his head, ready to hit the boy with all his might.
The ginger chose to abuse this small moment, knee kicking up to hit the man straight in his crown of jewels. The boy should have felt bad about abusing such a weak spot, but he didn’t even seem to flinch at the sight of the man doubling over in pain. He was quick to then elbow the man against the side of his head, causing him to cripple away slightly. He once again tried to fire back, straightening out his back, but Ajax was quick to use his vision to swing in the direction of his face. The man stumbled back, a hand placed over his eye as he groaned in pain. Blood trickled down his cheek and Ajax glanced down at his vision to see even more red staining the silver metal. His lips twitched, smile only growing at the sight before him. He hastily turned away from the man, looking for his next target.
And soon enough everything began to blur together. Each person he defeated seemed to send him closer and closer to the edge he had been craving. An edge which he wanted to step over so badly. The edge which he wished to take a leap of faith off of. It called to him, his yearning for it never silencing, even in the midst of the night where he struggled to sleep due to the urge to move his limbs.
A woman on the ground here, a man crumbled into himself on the snow there. None of them mattered, not when all the attention was on Ajax. He could hear them now, gasps of shock at the sight of his blood dipped fists. He wasn’t sure why they were so surprised. Were they not part of the army? Perhaps it was his age that was fueling this disbelief. Well, the reason didn’t matter anyways. What mattered was that they were looking at him and only him. He was the most important person there in their eyes. They were looking at the smile on his lips. They were looking at the gaze in his eyes. Both unfitting for a 14 year old boy.
Another woman stood before him. She hesitated, a strange look on her face as she stared at him. Blood had begun dripping down the sides of his vision and the tips of his fingers. His hands felt numb against the harsh cold. His throat felt dry due to the lack of moisture in the air. But he didn’t even notice. He was having fun, and he never wanted it to stop. It was only a taste of what he had during his time in the Abyss. Even so, the same thrill of near death that he had grown addicted to wasn’t there, but this was the best he could get. They would not try to kill him, perhaps rough him up a little, but never attempt to take his life. How utterly dull. It was a shame he didn’t hold the same reluctance.
She held a weapon in her hand, a small blade. He licked his dry, cracked lips at the sight. She had brought him a gift. But, he was not to underestimate her, even if her stature seemed fragile. She was still a soldier. Yet, so had been the rest who had fallen before her. They had failed to impress him, who had been training them? Still, it was a good outlet for all the pent up frustrations he had accumulated since returning from the Abyss. All his father did was scold him for small fights and squabbles. As irritating as it was, Ajax couldn’t complain. He had been the one who decided not to tell his family of the events which occurred during those 3 days he had gone missing.
She held the blade between graceful fingers, she was clearly skilled with the weapon in her hand. Even so, Ajax never hesitated as his pace towards her never slowed. Soon enough, her blade met the cool metal of his vision. The knife danced dangerously close to the skin of his hand and as they pulled away from each other, he felt the cold of the blade run against the back of his palm. At first he didn’t feel anything, but soon enough a slight burn emanated from his skin.
Glancing down at his hand, he watched as his blood dripped from the fresh cut, mixing into the sea of red at the tips of his fingers. Eye’s moving up to meet the woman’s gaze, he stared back at her with a wide grin. The pain was exhilarating. He could hear the thrum of his heart in his ears, it was deafeningly loud.
She wasted no time, slashing at him once again. His head instinctively moved back, watching the knife almost graze his cheek. His free hand reached out to grab her outstretched wrist, staining her clothing in red. He watched her eyes widen with momentary shock before she responded, kicking him in the stomach. He felt the press of her heel into his gut, and he recoiled, stumbling back a little and dropping his vision in the snow. He couldn’t deny the pain that quickly spread through his body, but he could grit his teeth and bear it.
She once again lunged at him, jabbing forward with the short blade. He stumbled to the side, causing her blade to slice through the side of his jacket, exposing his shirt underneath. She had moved closer to him which had been her mistake as he used his hand to grab her wrist once more and yanked her towards him. She lost her footing, causing her to stutter on the slippery snow. He twisted her wrist a little too far for comfort and the knife in her hand fell to the ground with a small cry of pain.
He overpowered her, his strength pushing her to the ground as she landed in the snow with a hard thud. For a moment he let go of her and she attempted to scramble away from him as he reached for the knife which she had dropped. Alas, she was too slow, and he dragged her back into place by the hood of her jacket. He forced her to look at him, to look into his hungry gaze. Perhaps he had gone deranged at this point, he had jumped off the ledge a long time ago and he had no intentions of going back.
She stared back at him, nothing but fear laced in her expression. Perfect, it was exactly what he wanted. But, that didn’t mean he would stop there. Raising his hand which held the knife, he lunged it towards her. She swiftly brought a hand up to block the blow, causing the blade to sink into the flesh of her palm and out the back of her hand. Another cry of pain fell from her lips as red seeped down her sleeve.
Having not let go of the hilt just yet, Ajax used it to drive the knife further down, letting the blade meet the ground below them as he buried it into the frozen dirt with a forceful twist. She wouldn’t stop screaming, yet Ajax could barely hear her behind the erratic beating of his heart, pounding in his head.
No one dared to approach them, no one dared to oppose him. No one attempted to stop him. “I’m better than all of them,” echoed in his head. He was the best there, and no one could beat him. He had proven his point, but he didn’t want to stop. He was a vile person, one who could not contain their desires once given the chance to indulge. One who would not even halt at the sound of another's pain.
This is what he wanted, this is what he deserved. He deserved their eyes on him. He deserved to be treated above them. He deserved the cries which fell from her lips.
Her free hand reached up to grab at his face, long nails digging into the flesh of his cheek. Blood from the fresh cut dripping down his chin and landing on her porcelain skin, mixing with the newfound tears running down her face.
Hands reaching for her throat, Ajax couldn't stop himself. Knee digging into her ribs, ████ couldn't halt himself. Her nails drawing blood from his cheek, ██████ couldn't withhold himself. A large grin on his lips, eyes wide with a thirst for fear, Childe couldn't help himself.
And suddenly it became too much.
For a moment an image flickered in his mind, one of himself, only a few months younger. Pinned underneath a beast three times his size, clawing at it for freedom just as the woman below him did. Fright in her eyes, the fear of death gripping at her throat.
So, he stopped.
What was he doing?
Who was he?
Who’s smile was he wearing?
Ajax reached for the knife he had driven through her hand, and yanked it out of place. She squirmed and gasped beneath him as he lifted his knee from the place against her ribs. She curled into herself, grasping her hand close to her chest.
There was silence as he stood up, blood from the knife tainting the snow beneath them. No one moved to help the woman on the floor. No one moved to detain the child who had clearly gone too far. It was a deafening silence.
The adrenaline which had once been coursing through him had almost instantly disappeared, and the heavy gaze which he had shrugged off now felt searing on his back. Turning his head, his eyes met his fathers. There was an indecipherable mix of emotions in the man's gaze directed towards his son, one which managed to make the boy sick. He had just watched his son torture a woman who had done nothing to deserve it.
No, it wasn’t Ajax who he had been witnessing. That wasn’t the boy who he had raised. Ajax had dissipated the moment he stepped foot into the military camp. Could the smile on his lips, or the look in his eyes even belong to his son? Or, had Ajax disappeared before this? Had he been left behind in the Abyss alongside any sanity
Forcing his eyes away from his father, Ajax spotted the scarf which he had discarded moments before the battle. Everything felt cold. His fingers were numb, his throat was sore, and his eyes felt dry. Awful, everything felt awful. Reaching down to grasp it, he found that the cloth had frozen at the ends which had touched the snow. Whatever, it didn’t matter, he still wrapped it around his neck nevertheless. Perhaps it was an attempt to console himself, even if he were not shaking to show his fear. Fear of himself. Who had he become? Would it be too much to ask for them to look away from him now?
Next, Ajax moved to pick up his vision which had fallen from his hand mid-fight. It pulsed in his hand, its blue light filling his gaze, reminding him of the ocean. It felt steady, never changing. He liked that. There was something stabilizing about it, something which helped push back the disgusting feeling festering in his gut.
The boy shoved it into his jacket pocket, the jacket which was now ruined. He had deserved that, a shredded jacket was nothing compared to the pain which he had senselessly caused.
What had he been fighting for? In the Abyss, it had been for survival. If he failed to fight properly, if he failed to protect himself, he died. But now, what was his reason? What was his justification to this situation? What was he supposed to tell himself?
As lovely as it would have been to keep sinking further into his storm of thoughts, the sound of loud clapping caught his attention. Who could possibly congratulate him on something so heinous? How could someone clap for the pain of their subordinates? How could they fuel him so shamelessly? Eyes quickly flickering from the ground to the area in front of him, the person in question stepped forward. Ajax felt his eyes widen, surprise causing his body to freeze. The one who stood before him was Pulcinella, the fifth of the Fatui Harbingers. And, they were clapping for him.
Bad habits. Things done repeatedly which got worse in the grand scheme of things. Nail biting, something which you were no stranger to. You weren’t sure when you had started the awful habit, perhaps it came from all the built up stress over school and family. Well, that didn’t matter anyways, the fact that you had been doing it for quite a while was the bigger problem. Your nails were horrendously short short to the point where they would hurt at times.
Tanjiro being the loving and caring boyfriend he’s always been noticed rather quickly. From the short winces in your eyes when he pressed too hard against your finger, or how you’d instinctively begin biting on them when stressed. While Tanjiro wasn’t one to force his beliefs onto others, he wished you wouldn’t do something that could cause you pain. Especially when he watched you stare down at your brutally short nails in disdain. So, he came up with a plan.
“[Name]?” the boy called out with a curious tone. The two of you had been laying around, watching YouTube on your bed, simply basking in each other's presence. A comfortable silence sat between the two of you, your legs laying on top of his. At the sound of his voice, your gaze quickly turned towards his direction. Your eyes held curiosity in them as you let out a simple hum in response.
“Would you mind if I painted your nails?” he questioned rather slowly, sounding as if he had trouble believing the words he had just said. You on the other hand were utterly confused as to why he wished to paint your nails. You never really did anything with them, knowing you’d just ruin anything painted on them. So, you hesitated before responding. You knew that he was well aware of your nail biting problem. You had seen him glancing towards you while you were distracted, subconsciously biting at them. Was this his way of helping?
“Paint my nails?” you responded, your voice taking on a rather dumbfounded tone. There was confusion clearly laced in your tone, something which definitely didn’t go over his head. Slight panic flooded his expression as he reached into his sweater pocket to pull out a few small bottles of nail polish. They were brand new, plastic seals still wrapped around them. This only shocked you more, had he bought nail polish just to help you out? Sure, nail polish could be bought for cheap at the dollar store, but it was the thought that counted.
“Just a simple design, that's all,” he responded, his signature caring smile stretching across his lips. That smile of his always seemed to entrance you, putting you under his spell. One where he had you in the palm of his hand. Of course, it didn’t seem that he noticed the effects his angel-like smile had, you never expected Tanjiro to be the type to use his charms with a clear purpose in mind.
“Well, I guess I don’t mind,” you responded hesitantly, not exactly sure what you were waltzing your way into. Though, as his eyes lit up in glee, you felt that hesitance quickly melt away to be replaced by a warm feeling in your chest. He was so adorable, caring and sweet. How could your heart not literally melt at the sight of his eyes sparkling.
“I’m not the best, but i’ll try my best!” he responded before quickly opening the bottles of nail polish. You simply watched him, hands stretched out towards him as he began to focus on the task. You had never seen him with nail polish, or seen him paint any on someone else. You weren’t exactly sure how good he was at it, though it didn’t seem to really matter to you at that moment. So, for the next few minutes, you simply watched the boy struggle to apply nail polish to your short nails, occasionally accidentally getting some on your finger instead. You didn’t mind though, it simply brought a light chuckle to your lips, and every time he glanced up at you with a bright smile.
“They’re flowers… I think?” he said out of the blue, a laugh slipping past his lips. You glanced down at your nails only to find a mess to say the least. Well okay, the design slightly resembled flowers, dots placed around each other. “I could try redoing it,” he offered, slight concern laced in his expression. Was Tanjiro genuinely worried that you were any bit upset over his mash of colours called flowers? You weren’t even close to being angry over it.
“I’ll treasure this with my entire being,” you replied with a sense of determination. You brought your hands up to your face to gently blow on them so that they would dry quicker.
“You don't have to keep them, they really aren’t done well,” he countered quickly, making sure you were absolutely fine with his atrocity on your nails. In response, you simply let out a huff before speaking.
“That’s not what matters, I only care about how much thought you put into it.” To this, Tanjiro simply let out a chuckle, his gaze meeting yours with slight entertainment. A soft blush spread across your cheeks, you hadn’t realized what you were saying before it slipped past your lips. His maroon eyes simply stared at you with love and astonishment, he had never expected you to appreciate his awful nail painting skills so adamantly. Perhaps all the hours he spent watching nail art videos to slightly prepare himself was worth it after all.
There was nothing nicer than sitting by the warm, comforting luminescence of the fire. Nothing but the stars overhead filling the inky void called space. A time which is easily filled with long inquiries of insignificance in the grand scheme of things. With the right imagination, thoughts like that can haunt you. Or, they can force you to appreciate what little you truly have. You can cherish the relationships you have made, and even the smaller things which feel insignificant to you.
Things like the way your lovers silky, ebony locks which matched the pitch black of the night weaved through your fingers. His warm skin against yours, his hands melting you under his touch. The way the fire illuminated his face, a soft glow bringing life to his rather pale skin. His sharp eyes were shut, closing away the beautiful pools of sapphire he hid behind them. You loved his eyes, even if his face laid dormant and expressionless, his eyes gave him away. Perhaps you had simply gotten used to it, having to scan his eyes to find the answers to the questions which he ignored. You had to give yourself a pat on the shoulder, you had gotten particularly good at reading Giyu, even if he hated to admit it.
Your hand which had been gently weaving through his hair paused for a moment before travelling towards his face. Your fingers lightly traced his jaw, nails barely dragging against his skin. His body tensed up for a moment, his hand which gripped yours tightening ever so slightly. If you hadn’t been paying so much attention to him, you might have missed the subtle movement. Unluckily for him, his head was in your lap, and you were staring directly at him.
The fingers which had been tracing his jaw moved to tenderly caress his cheek. Your thumb dragging across his skin in a comforting motion. Usually, Giyu would shy away from most physical contact, but with his eyes closed, he seemed more willing. Well, that was until his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. His gaze of pure crystal, seemingly unwavering and void of emotion to most people who gave him a single glance. But, not you. You wanted to stare into his eyes forever, to have quiet and gentle moments such as this one more often. Alas, you were Demon Slayers, you couldn’t stay like this for all eternity. Only once Demons were gone could you do so, and so your determination never wavered.
“Hey,” you called out gently to him, a small smile playing on your lips. He simply stared up at you for a few moments, the same blank look on his face as always. You didn’t blame him for expressing himself less. sure, at moments it was frustrating and you wished he would talk to you more, but you never pushed. And, to your delight, a soft smile matching your own stretched across his lips. His steel-like gaze softened as his head tilted in the slightest.
His free hand reached up towards you, pushing the loose strands of hair away from your face. His hand then moved to gingerly cup your cheek, hands which had been calloused by the daily work of a Demon Slayer. Hands which you wished would hold yours forevermore. His lips parted for a moment before gently muttering.
Heart warming memories as the two of you sit by the fireflies
[1k words]
Tomioka Giyu was never one to voice his emotions. His opinions, thoughts or pain; he swallowed them down without complaint. He was silent, as still as water at times. He masked himself behind his sapphire eyes, afraid of both giving and receiving love. At times he felt unworthy, straying further and further away from those around him. He wished not to bring misfortune upon them, he simply wanted the best for them. That's how he lived, and he was fine with that. He was perfectly fine with being an outcast, or at least that’s what he told himself. He hadn’t realized how deprived he was of touch and affection until you magically showed up one day.
You had risen among the demon slayer ranks, all the way from Mizunoto to Kinoe, and eventually becoming a Hashira yourself. No one had even noticed you until you had become a Hashira. You slipped under the radar somehow, even though you were radiant in your own unique way. You were indifferent to the way others viewed you, always treating people how they had done so to you. You were morally good, a clear motive behind your every step, walking down a path which you had paved all on your own. You were everything Giyu wished he could be.
He wished he could carry himself with such purpose, to hold his head high and proud, but he simply couldn’t. He felt like a fraud, nothing compared to those who had sacrificed their lives for him. So, imagine his surprise when you approached him one day, questioning what his favourite food was. He was reluctant to reply, not sure as to why you were asking him such a question, but the smile on your face persuaded him to simply respond. He supposed it would be harmless to reply, it wasn’t an answer that would kill him or anything. Then, around dinner the next day, you approached him, two bowls of simmered salmon with daikon in your hands.
Time flew after that, days of you pestering him for answers over his preferences and showing up the next day with said things in your arms. He was perplexed to say the least, confused as to why you were interacting so often with him. You hadn’t been a Hashira for long, perhaps you simply chose the wrong person among the bunch to hang out with. You seemed like someone who’d enjoy Mitsuri or Kochos’ company. You choosing to spend time with Giyu also bewildered the other Hashira, especially Sanemi. Though, he couldn’t have cared less by the second week, accepting it as reality, as strange as it felt.
So, how did the two of you end up sitting next to each other on the porch of the backyard? The gentle hum of crickets filling the void of silence between the two of you. It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was rather comfortable. Your hand placed atop his which rested on the ground, the warmth of your skin burning into his consciousness. It was night, yet the dim luminescence from the fireflies around blurred together. It felt as if the two of you were among the stars, having left the nightmare, demon filled nights which you had grown so accustomed to.
After a few weeks of your persistent gift giving, Giyu couldn’t help but begin to question you. He was frustrated, but he couldn’t understand why. Why were you sticking to him? He wasn’t any good for conversation, nor was he good company considering he reacted to almost nothing. Why would someone as vibrant as you waste so much energy on him? Someone who deserved to be where they were among the other Hashiras?
He wanted to be angry at you for being a nuisance, but you weren’t one. You were the only person who had tried to talk to him for the longest time. Sure, Kocho was bound to have the occasional conversation with him, they had gone on a few missions together after all, but you were different. No matter how often he tried to push you off, or simply ignore you, you always came back the next day with something he liked in your arms.
Soon enough, it was no longer the things held securely in your arms which he looked forward to, it was you. The way your lips stretched into a soft smile every time his expression changed in the slightest, or the way your eyes lit up every time you’d see something you liked. The way your eyes lit up when you looked at him.
So one day, Giyu asked, “Why do you always come back?”
You simply stared at him for a moment, a slightly taken back look in your eyes. It took a few moments before your usual smile fell on your lips, gaze softening as he peered at you blankly. He couldn’t deny the way his heart quickened in that moment, even if it was only the slightest bit faster.
“Because I like you,” you responded rather simply, before continuing on the path which the two of you had been walking. Giyu stood there for a moment, feeling rather disoriented by the words which you had said. You said them so shamelessly, not even caring over the fact that you had let the words pour so easily from your lips. How were you able to do that? And to simply leave him hanging just like that? To keep walking ahead even though you had just spilled the contents of your heart out to someone. Strangely, Giyu couldn’t help but admire it.
“Giyu?” your voice cut through the silence, shattering his thoughts. He let out a soft hum in reply, gaze still locked on the fireflies which danced low to the ground. “People say, that you can’t love someone else until you love yourself first,” your words were soft and mellow, even if the words were slightly alarming to the boy next to you. He was unsure as to what was going through your head, were you doubting whether he loved you or not? The thought felt preposterous to Giyu, he did love you, of course he did, but perhaps his silent nature made the topic rather strange for the girl next to him. In the corner of his eye, he noticed your head turn to face him, eyes staring at his side profile. “Do you love yourself?”
At this statement, he couldn’t help but also turn his head so that his gaze met yours. Your eyes held a sense of uncertainty in them which he had rarely seen in you. You were always so sure of yourself, never doubting your capabilities. Yet, there you were, troubled over how Giyu felt about you. Even if you questioned whether he loved himself or not, he could understand what was truly troubling you.
“I don’t love myself,” he started, immediately noticing the slight change in your eyes. Was it panic? Were you that scared of what was untrue? The fact that he didn’t love you? “But you?” he paused once more to collect his thoughts. He really wasn’t the best with words, but he was trying his hardest to give you the answer you deserved. He knew he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He knew that you were miles above him, better than him in every aspect. But, if you hadn’t grown so close to him, if you hadn’t reminded him how amazing you thought he was. If you hadn’t decided to spend time with him, or to listen to him. Giyu was sure he would have never changed, staying the same stoic person he always was. Letting life simply run by him, not caring for a simple thing. But, how could he do that when you were by his side?
“I love you so much that I forgot what hating myself feels like.”
City lights merged together, brilliant colours mixing to create an ethereal scene against the black of the night sky. The sound of Idle chatter filled your ears, people enjoying their Friday night with their friends and family. You yourself were no different, your partner, Tanjiro, walking next to you. Light raindrops pelted against the clear umbrella hovering above your head, held by the boy to your side. It was merely a drizzle, no real need for an umbrella, yet it seemed to complete the scene somehow.
The air was cold and moist against your skin. You had forgotten your coat at your home, thinking it would be perfectly fine without it. Of course it would rain. Though, Tanjiro didn’t seem to mind lending you his jacket to keep you from shivering in the cold. You weren't sure what you’d do without him at times. He was so kind and compassionate, always reaching his hand out towards you with nothing but good intentions behind his vibrant maroon irises. Eyes like the darkest of roses.
He had taken you out to dinner, having felt bad for being so busy with work at his family’s bakery. Of course, you didn’t blame him for helping his mother out around the place. Sure, you missed him at times, finding yourself cuddling into the sweaters which you had stolen from his closet. But, you were simply happy that he loved you enough to think to apologize for something so unnecessary.
So, there the two of you were, walking in the direction of his apartment. You had decided to stay the night with him, wanting to spend some time cuddling to recharge your Tanjiro meter. It had depleted over the few days of his absence. The two of you began to pass by a restaurant playing live music. It was gentle, the melancholic melody easing the slight tension in your shoulders. You didn’t think much of it, simply appreciating its presence to add to the ambiance of the scene before you. But, you couldn’t help but notice Tanjiro pause to stare at the musician through the glass windows of the restaurant. Your head tilted slightly in confusion, mouth opening slightly to say something until he turned around to face you.
“Dance with me?” his free hand was held out towards you, eyes gazing at you expectantly. The words fell so smoothly from his tongue, soft words dripping like honey. You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your lips, eyes lighting up at his proposition.
Instinctively, your hand reached out to place itself in his. His fingers wrapped around your hand, gently tugging your body closer to his. The sound of the umbrella hitting the ground next to you was nothing compared to the sound of your own heart beating in your chest. You felt as if it thumped to the rhythm as his now free hand securely wrapped around your waist. He held you close, no gap between the two of you. You felt his heartbeat against your chest, mimicking the fast pace which yours had also taken. His hand holding yours was warm, his soft skin and delicate touch.
His feet began to move to the tempo, you following suit. He smelled of fresh baked bread, a scent which you had come to love. It always reminded you of him. Days you spent with him in his family's bakery, or simply snuggling up against him on a quiet evening. The sound of the soft music and your heartbeat was reminiscent of the many times which the two of you had danced together in each other's apartments in the depths of the night. Moments like these had your heart melting in his hands, you were utterly his and you wanted him to know that.
The two of you dipped and twirled, always coming back right against each other. The cold feeling of the light drizzle on your skin went completely ignored by you, you felt as if you were on fire. Cheeks pink with passion and your heart lurched with nothing but love and joy. His gaze met yours with nothing but fondness, only causing your heart to flutter more.
He leaned closer to you, the feeling of his warm breath tickling your cold skin. You shivered under his touch, his hot hand moving from your waist to your neck. It sat there for a few moments before he spoke softly against your ear.
"I love you," you wished to respond to his sweet words with ones of your own, but you were cut short by the feeling on his plush lips pressing against yours. The hand which rested against your neck moved up to gently cup your cheek, thumb running across your slightly damp cheek. His touch felt like fire, melting your nerves with every passing second. Your eyes were fast to close, mimicking his which had done so the moment your lips touched. It was a gentle kiss, one which expressed a sense of longing. Perhaps he had missed you as much as you had missed him.
A few moments later he pulled away, a soft smile on both your lips. His arm was still snug around your waist, never letting you get any further. Not that you even wanted to. You didn't care if people had stared at the two of you strangely, or if you'd catch a fever the next day from the cold mixed with your now damp hair. The only thing on your mind was him. The only thing you could see, was Kamado Tanjiro.
This is dedicated to @fuckinkubberzs, I told you I’d write it!
[2k words]
Life is seemingly slipping further and further out of your grasp as the timer on your arm ticks away. Five minutes is all you have, and in the end, five minutes was all you needed.
The air around you was cold, painfully nipping at your skin as you aimlessly wandered the streets. Who knew how long you had been simply walking. Hours were merging into each other, minutes flying by, not caring that they were foreboding your demise. Soulmates. That word had come to be the bane of your existence. Everyone had a soulmate, and everyone had a different way of finding theirs. You were jealous of them all, even if some of them couldn’t see colour, or feel their own emotions. Eventually they’d find their significant other and they would be happy. The stupid timer on your wrist was nothing more than a count down to your death.
The day you were born, that timer began, ticking away at your life and your sanity. If you didn’t find your soulmate before the numbers all fell on zero, then you would die, simple as that. The method ran in your family, your parents and grandparents all having gone through the same struggle, but you were the only one who failed to find yours. The only one who would die from this curse placed on your family. You didn’t want to call it a blessing, you didn’t want to accept that the universe had set you up for failure the moment you were born. But, there you were, five minutes away from the end.
Envy didn’t even course through your veins any longer as it had the majority of the morning, all you could feel now was a looming sense of despair. This was how you’d go, all alone in the middle of the night, wandering some random street. You hadn’t even been paying attention to where you had been going, simply walking around with a hurricane of thoughts blinding you. You hadn’t told your parents that it was the last day you had to find your soulmate, you didn’t want to watch their happy expressions morph into utter sadness. You didn’t have the will to do that to them.
So now it all came down to how you wanted to spend the last five minutes of your life. You were rather tired of standing in the cold, not even a jacket covering your arms. Perhaps a warm drink, or something sweet would lift your mood before the inevitable. Something to make you smile in your final moments. How morbid that sounded. Even so, it didn’t seem to phase you anymore at that point.
Your eyes caught on a small sign which was propped up on the ground. It was the usual one which you’d see in front of every cafe, a blackboard with the day's best prices listed on it. Your eyes traveled up towards the glass door, peering into the small cafe. There was only one person inside, the barista to be exact. It must have really been late.
The strong, almost bitter smell of coffee overwhelmed your senses in an instant as the little jingle which the door made echoed in your ears. The cafe only sported a few tables and chairs, most likely not owned by a large corporation. Though, it was rather pleasant to the eyes. Light hardwood floors, beige chairs and tables. Glass ornaments hung from the ceiling, small lights placed in them to brighten up the place. The walls consisted of large windows, not leaving much to the imagination when it came to what occurred within the small shop. A few potted plants lined the windowsill, obviously well taken care of. There was something comforting about the place, yet you couldn’t figure out what. Perhaps it was the fresh scent of cake and cream, or the light decor that helped lift your mood.
Without even noticing, a small smile fell on your lips. Why were you suddenly so happy? You were still going to die in a few minutes. Shaking the thoughts off, you took a deep breath. Who cared if you only had a few minutes, might as well make the best out of it, right? So you walked towards the cashier, eyes moving upwards towards the overhead menu. They were the typical things you’d see in a cafe; lattes, espresso’s, iced coffee, etc. You quickly chose something warm, wanting to get rid of the cold which seemingly drenched you to the bone.
“Can I take your order?” a masculine voice cut through your thoughts, you eyes quickly moving back down towards the person who now stood in front of you. You were met by another pair of eyes, red and orange intermingling, reminding you of the soft glow of sunset. Bold and brilliant. His features were sharp, drastically contrasting the soft smile which grazed his lips. You felt your heart flutter, why? Why did someone you had never even spoken to before lifting your spirits?
“Oh, a hot chocolate please,” you replied politely, smiling back towards him. He nodded his head, telling you the price as you dug through your wallet. Your… empty wallet. You stared at it blankly for a few moments before an exasperated sigh passed your lips. You looked back up towards him, slight confusion lacing his own expression before his gaze landed on your empty wallet.
“That's alright, this one’s on the house then!” he replied in a cheery voice. There it was again, that flutter in your heart at the mere sound of his voice. His kindness leaked warmth into your soul, no longer even needing the hot drink he was so graciously gifting you. You weren’t sure what you had done to be granted with such kindness at such a dreary moment. It was almost as if all the anguish which had been circulating in your veins had left itself outside, in the dark hues of dusk.
“Thank you so much,” you replied, expression softening to match his. An unexplainable warm smile spread across your lips. You felt happy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You watched as he nodded his head before turning around to work on the drink. You decided to sit down, legs aching slightly from how long you had been walking for. Your eyes landed on the clock on the wall, 9 pm. Why was a cafe open so late? You were thankful nonetheless. You hated to leave the poor barista with your dead body on a Saturday night, but you didn’t want to just drop dead on the streets. The imagery itself was enough to unnerve you slightly.
So, you sat there, eyes moving to simply stare at him while he made the drink. You weren’t trying to be creepy, but his hair was rather eye catching. His long locks matched his striking eyes, reminding you of the warmth under the sun. His appearance all in itself seemed to scream with positivity. As if he were someone who always held his head high, never letting daily life drag him down. It was something you could admire, but not something you yourself could achieve.
You watched him work quickly, as if he was on some sort of time limit. He seemed rather skilled in what he did from how easily he maneuvered around the kitchen. You should have expected it, from the looks of it the cafe was owned by him. What other employee keeps a cafe open until nine? What you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly turn around so suddenly, the finished glass of hot chocolate in his hands. It wasn’t in a plastic cup or anything of the sorts. Perhaps he wanted company for a while, opting to hand you a glass instead of a take away cup. It didn’t really matter all that much to you, you had planned to stay there anyways.
“So what has you out so late?” he questioned, deciding to strike up conversation. You didn’t mind it, anything to keep you from counting down the seconds.
“Just wandering around, thinking about life I guess,” you responded, taking the glass from his outstretched hand. You watched him untie the apron from around his waist, hanging it up behind the counter. You could only assume he was done for the day.
“Is something on your mind?” he asked politely. Normally you weren’t one to talk with strangers over things that had been bothering you, but something about his warm tone and comforting eyes almost had you spewing out your entire life story.
“Romance issues? If you could even call it romance,” you said with a soft chuckle, taking a sip of the warm liquid. It was perfectly sweet, perhaps one of the best hot chocolates you’d ever had. You watched as he moved to sit across from you, taking a seat in the empty chair. The sleeves of his white button up were pulled all the way down to his wrists, though he seemed like someone who would button them up below the elbow.
“A fight I assume?” the male questioned. How you wished it was a mere fight that had come between you and your soulmate. The both of you must have done something nasty in a past life to have been fated to never meet.
“I wish,” you muttered softly, eyes now meeting the table. Alarm was evident in his gaze at your sudden dip in mood. The smile on your lips contorted from that of joy to one which was interlaced with sadness.
“Ah, my apologies!" the man exclaimed, guilt showing in his rich orange and red irises. You couldn't help but also feel a sense of wrongdoing in your actions. He was someone who seemed so bright and cheerful, you were doing nothing but pulling him down into the hole of despair you had dug for yourself.
"No no!" you countered rather abruptly, back straightening slightly. "It's not your fault, really," you tried to reassure him, only to be met by a new found determination in his eyes. How peculiar.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he responded, rather adamant of helping the stranger who couldn't even pay for the drink he made. An act of friendship and kindness which you'd rarely see in the modern age.
"I really wish you could help, but…" you trailed off, not finding the proper words. How do you inform someone that you're going to die in the next minute or so? How could you easily explain that to anyone. How could you dare dim the light which some so blindingly before you. Someone who radiated the warmth of the sun. You simply couldn't, and you weren't about to have him witness your death. You had to leave, to get out before the timer struck zero. He didn't deserve to watch someone die before his very eyes.
"I'm so sorry, but I need to go," you stated suddenly, standing up abruptly from your seat. Surprise laced his expression as you began walking towards the exit. You'd rather die alone than ruin someone's day like this. You glanced down at your wrist for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, awaiting the dreadfully low timer that had been plaguing your life so cruelly. Awaiting the numbers which dictated your entire life, counting down until the moment your heart stops beating. The numbers you wish you could scrub off your skin. But, there was nothing.
You had stopped moving, simply standing in the middle of the coffee shop staring down at your wrist in bewilderment. The numbers, they were gone. No, this had to be some kind of mistake, how could they simply be gone?
The sound of a chair moving against the floor was all that could be heard. Your eyes shot up from your wrist, eyes still large with shock. They landed on the barista who's name you still didn't know. His tall figure and hair which resembled warm summer evenings. Could he possibly be—
"Are you alright, Miss?" He inquired, a worried look in his eyes. You could only stare at him in disbelief.
"Were you about to die?" the words fell past your lips without you even realizing. You watched his figure stiffen up slightly at your rather straightforward question.
"Oh yeah, that," was all he responded with the sad smile of his own. What? That was his response to almost dying? "Wait, what do you mean by were?" He questioned, brows furrowing slightly. Had he still not realized? You watched as he pulled his cuffed sleeve up slightly to reveal his bare wrist.
"How could you still be working when you're about to die?" your voice came out soft and questioning. you could only feel more guilt run down your back. You felt as if you needed answers from him. How could he stay smiling so brightly, offering free food to a stranger when he was minutes away from dying himself? How had you not even considered that you wouldn't be the only one dying? Why hadn't you looked harder?
"Well, shouldn't we both be glad that I was here?" he replied with a light chuckle. You wanted to be angry at him. Angry for not being with his family, for wanting to die alone in his small cafe, but then you'd be nothing but a hypocrite. You yourself had done the exact same thing. Your tense shoulders relaxed, taking a deep breath to relieve yourself of the pent up of stress which had accumulated over the entire day.
"Kyojuro Rengoku," his voice cut through your thoughts, immediately pulling you from your small mental trance. His eyes were locked onto yours, a small smile gracing his lips as he gazed at you fondly. Once again you felt your heart flutter with new found emotions. He was the warmth you were seeking. The colours which you felt as if you were missing. The hope which had slipped from your grasp, lost to time.
