achelouise
louise
(she/her)
A wanderer at heart; catch me if you can.
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To you, My Lady
fandom: hsr
pairing: gallagher/FEM!reader
warnings: SPOILERS FOR 2.2 AND WRITTEN BEFORE 2.3
a/n: this may be the weirdest and most far-fetched I've ever written in terms of character interpretation, but I just needed to get something out of my system after playing 2.2, I cried like a little bitch
“You’re a History Fictionologist.”
Gallagher doesn’t respond. He should’ve known. You’ve always been too perceptive, no matter how much you mask yourself as a mess.
He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t have to; he knows the crease in your eyebrows, the raging hurt that is locked behind your frowning lips, tears prickling from the corners of your eyes. He has memorized it by heart, when he had broken your heart on several occasions.
He warned you. He had shut you down when you presented him with a bouquet of flowers, he left you to pack up your date meal on more times he can count, and barked out a condescending laugh every time you show him something you created.
And yet, you stayed. You tried to make this one-sided relationship work, and Gallagher doesn’t understand why. He also doesn’t understand why he didn’t straight-up push you away.
“Finally worked that brain of yours?” he snorts, “‘Bout time.”
Gallagher- he is merely a creation born from another pair of hands. He is a toy, a pawn, with a singular ambition; to make sure The Order never crafts their perfect world, a predetermined disaster.
Perhaps he is the creator. Perhaps he is the creation. He is a branch of the History Fictionologist.
A lie ceases to exist when the truth comes to light. His death is gradual, but he feels the instantaneous switch. The soft pull of the abyss, gently taking a part of carefully-mended facade. It won’t be so kind when the final hour comes. He’s sure you know, too.
This is expected, though. He has a meeting with Sunday later, and he will take him to Dreamflux Reef. There, he will bid the people he barely knew goodbye, and he will leave a single hound to watch over the old man.
He will have played his part.
Why did he delude you into thinking you two had a future together?
“Well.” You are clearly trying to hold back tears. The pathetic display wants to make him laugh. He doesn’t. He still doesn’t turn around. “This is it, then?”
Gallagher polished a glass. “There was never ‘this’, hun.”
“But I’ve seen the way you look at me.” you insist, “You aren’t as emotionally detached as you think you are.”
He pours in High Stakes, and plays around with the drink in the glass. “I didn’t think you were this dumb, love. You deluded yourself into thinkin’ we were something more. We’re not. To me, you’re as important as a passerby in this dreamscape.”
“Then why did you stay?” Your voice cracks. “Why didn’t you push me away?”
He drops in a dash of classic SoulGlad. “Hm. Maybe because you looked too pathetic. I dunno. I don’t feel much of anything.”
“And why are you leaving now?”
You sounded far too heartbroken, beyond the stricken looks you give him on a daily basis.
“‘Cuz you realized my identity. In a day or two, my form will be destroyed. I’ll continue exploring the cosmos in another body.” He squeezes in a Hanu sticker. It looks adorable. It reminds him of the smile you gave him the first day you met.
He still doesn’t turn around. “Darling, you have to realize you’ve been loving a dead man. I don’t know what it is about police officers and bartenders that make you hot’n bothered, but don’t run into another one.”
As he mixes his drink, there is only silence. He half-expects you to leave in a huff, but he knows better. You have never left in the long time you’ve known each other.
“... Then, if all my romantic gestures meant nothing to you,” you say, tenderly and still brimming with a love that annoys him, “Can I get one more kiss?”
“On the cheek.” He says coldly, putting down the drink on the counter. “And only because I’m basically dying.”
He closes his eyes as you turn him around. He hears a quiet hum, still sad and carrying grief, before he feels a soft brush of lips on his cheek. His hands cling to your waist, before they let go.
“Thank you.” you say, “And I’m sorry.”
He opens his eyes. Your smile is fragile and hopeless, but it carries a tinge of warmth, one that makes him close them again, because if he stares longer, something in his carefully-crafted heart may actually want to stay in this dingy apartment.
Will you go chase another man, when all is said and done? Will you marry him? Will he protect you and treasure you? Will he leave you, just as he did?
“Sure.” he answers, sliding the drink into your hands as he backs away.
He opens the apartment door, and doesn’t spare another glance. If he does, he may actually fear.
Before he leaves completely, he stops. “To you,” he murmurs, knowing you will hold onto his every word, “With this glass of ‘Farewell, My Lovely’.”
Leave. Don’t be delusional. Leave.
Hm. Perhaps he was the one deluding himself.
“To unfinished business.”
He shuts the door, and basks in the soft artificial moonlight.
He hears you wail.
He can only hope this is what Mikhail would have wanted.
#hsr gallagher x reader#gallagher x you#hsr gallagher#hsr x reader#hsr#hsr spoilers#honkai star rail#hsr 2.2
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Together, forevermore
Fandom: Honkai Star Rail
Pairing: (Yan?)Blade x fem!reader
Warnings: Pretty dark, (at least its the most dark thing I've written so far DONT JUDGe me), blade is not nice here, non-con but no sex
Summary: Someone visits you on your deathbed.
A/N: ...... i may be on a slight toxic writing streak......... I WILL BRING SOMETHING ELSE FLUFF ENJOYERS I PROMISE
imma be honest i dont know if this is considered as yandere but i will tag it as such just in case
Your bones are weary. Wrinkles are prominent on your face, and your hair has completely faded to white.
You savor it all. The way time robs you of your youth, the way you bend to its will, morph yourself into a fragile being that couldn’t continue her adventure on the Express. The way you laugh when you spill a cup, when eons ago you would charge towards the enemy with your spear in hand.
You were satisfied with yourself. You have lived, breathed, and entertained yourself before the curtain fell. You have made friends, enemies, lovers, and experienced the joy and suffering of life. The galaxy is your sky, and the worlds you travel to is your home.
Well- perhaps just one lover. It felt like many, though. You could never forget him, but he is just a hazy memory in your old brain.
To think, a former Cloud Knight soldier would live and breathe without mara- truly, a wonderful end to a blazing life like yours.Granted, you weren’t from the Xianzhou- but to be on the battlefield is to sign up a guaranteed death by Abudance.
Even as the Crew parts, their memories and cherished ambitions lay dormant in your heart- beating weakly, slowly, and closer to eternal rest.
You loved this life, and you hated to see it go. Perhaps this is the wisdom Jingliu was desperate for- to understand mortality, and to understand an end to a life well spent.
You feel your fear of death grasping your chest as you heave, drinking in every breath. Unparalleled joy also envelops you; ah, the precious catalyst life holds for this body. Even as you have withered away, this body still yearns for a little bit of life, still squeezes every last drop, a complete opposite of the mara-stricken soldiers tethering between sanity and mania.
Beautiful. How beautiful this life could be.
You could only wish for the others to feel the same. You hope March understands the beauty of fragile mortality, and Dan Heng’s rest during his rebirth.
Even then, human will never dies. You and the trailblazer have entrusted yours to the Cosmodyssey, greeting the future generation of trailblazers from the distant past. Only this way, would you be immortalized, encapsulated in a beautiful dream.
A soft creak of the door alerts you. You smile, even as you struggle to inhale enough air to speak. “... Can’t you leave an old lady… to her death bed?”
Your voice is grating and unpleasant, but you cherish it all the same.
The visitor doesn’t speak. They walk in slowly, carrying a glass of water. At least, it looks like it- oh, you can’t blame yourself for not recognizing anything with such poor eyesight.
Probably one of the nurses that are hell bent on keeping you alive. You don’t really like them, you never have. Ever since you resigned yourself to an elderly shelter on your home planet, where you could meet even more friends before your end, the nurses have been instructed to keep you alive for as long as possible. Probably because if you do, you can attend more interviews, review more biographies about you and the Legends of Akivilli.
You can’t muster up the strength to retort any more, though. The nurse doesn’t really speak, either. They have a comically large mask on, one that shields their whole face, with only eyes piercing back. You don’t recognize them. Eugh, poor eyesight.
The monitor begins to beat feverishly. You are quite parched, though. No harm in quenching your thirst one last time before you kick the bucket.
As you reach for the glass, memories flash before your eyes. Your mother cradling you, your father holding you tight, your celebration with your friends as you pass your finals, your first arrival on the Xianzhou, your first kiss, your promise for a future with him, your losses, your despair, your fears-
And-
The Express. Your true home, the fondation which you rediscovered yourself and rebuilt yourself on. A place where you will never part, not even in death.
The warmth you felt for it, and the warmth it returned to you will never be forgotten.
You heave as you gulp down the drink. “Thank… you.”
You close your eyes.
Farewell, everyone.
You feel so light. You can properly feel your hands again. The backache is gone, stripped away, and you marvel at the skin that seems to reweave itself- granting you your youth, your past, prime shape. So the afterlife is merciful, after all.
You open your eyes. The birds near the windowsill are still chirping. Nothing has changed.
Wait.
What?
You feel your body reconstructing itself, your bones rearranging and your senses returning. Your eyes grow sharp and your face feels soft. The scars on your arms grow rapidly smaller, and smaller, until they are gone before you can blink. Uneasiness crawls in your chest.
And all the while, strange, delicate branches curl around your limbs, a soft green glow imitating the blessing of-
No. No no no no no no no no no.
No.
NO.
You find your strength to speak properly again. Your voice is lighter, easier to speak with, a voice or a bygone past, and it only nausates you as you grip your blanket. “What did you do?”
You turn to look at the nurse properly, as they finally start to make a sound- a soft, unsettling chuckle, one hand removing their mask.
The cruel smirk dances on Blade’s lips as he gestures to the glass cup in your hand.
Only now do you see the Emenator of Abundances’ blood swimming in the clear water you were so desperate for, only moments ago. You feel light-headed. You feel sick to the core.
You drop the cup, and it shatters on the floor- your skin feels cold, and your brain is spinning. You’re hyper-aware of how the liquid seeping out still flashes with the curse of Abundance, how the birds are screeching, and how Blade is cackling.
You heave, your breaths growing shorter by the moment. You watch as Blade reaches for your face- and if you flinch, he pretends to not notice.
No. You were close. You were so close.
“Why?” you cry, the first tears finally dripping down your cheeks. Blade’s bandaged hands wipe them away, and his dry lips press on them- as if savoring them.
“Did you honestly think you could escape me?” Blade reprimands softly, his empty eyes shining with disgusting, sickening adoration. “You promised you would stay, for as long as you could, for me.”
“You disgusting, wretched beast.” You lament, curling in further of yourself. The effects of the mara have started to settle; your muscles pound hard with fresh life breathed into your body, your bones gritting far worse than when you were of old age, and your mind starting to delude your sight. “I had forgotten you. I had lived, unlike you.”
“Promises are not to be broken.” Blade responds coldly, gripping your chin with sheer strength. You cry out as your skull cracks, only for it to mend itself, in perfect shape, the phantom pain lingering on your jaw. “I watched you blaze a trail for yourself. To me, your life was only moments worth of mine.”
“I married. I had children. They will remember me wedded to someone else.” you seethe.
Blade only chuckles mirthlessly at that. “Your attempts at deceiving me are truly pitiful. I know I was your first and last lover. I watched you fall apart in my absence. I watched your success. I watched how you withered away, and I envied you so, so much. Why couldn’t I feel that happy? Why couldn’t I feel that free?”
His hand ghosts over your neck, a silent warning if you dared to cry for help. Not that you would- you knew exactly what bringing his wrath would entail. Breaking your neck over, and over, and over again, to feel the pleasure of death like his master brought for him.
“I watched you pave a way for yourself. I hated you. I loved you. I don’t know how I feel anymore. Kafka has numbed everything away. But I chose to hold onto these feelings. Only you could give rise to new emotions after my rebirth. And you will be my partner. Together, we will be betrayers of death.”
You shake your head, and you wish so badly that all of this was a figment of your imagination. But it is real. You’ve seen enough soldiers fall prey to mara. You might have only succumbed to a dilated version, but it still tears away at your soul.
“Your playtime is over. Death will never reach you. Not even Nihility can bring you the peace you need. So stay with me.” He leans over, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. Your head pounds. Shapes and colors blend into a mess. Only Blade sits before you.
“Not that you have a choice.” He nips the bud of your ear, his voice soft and stifling. The stench of blood and rain clings onto his skin, and you succumb to the despair that fills your heart. “You will join the Stellaron Hunters. Kafka will help you, as she did with me.”
He leans back, and he smiles, deranged and devoid of sanity, living in his own world of pure delusion.
Sometimes, when you were dating, you wondered what he was before he was Blade. Would he still date you?
And even now, as he seals his promise with a kiss, you think. Would he condone any of this? How would he feel, knowing he has turned into a monster?
You close your eyes. You envision your friends and comrades, who all bear no burdens of eroding immortality, an apology on your tongue.
I’m sorry. I failed you all.
“Together, forevermore.”
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr blade#hsr blade x reader#hsr blade x you#yan!blade#yandere#hsr x reader#hsr x female reader#blade x female reader
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Lies, mysteries, and tricks
Fandom: Honkai Starail
Pairing: Sunday/Gen!reader, MENTIONED Gallagher/reader
Warnings: Spoilers for 2.1 and written before 2.2! Very toxic, from both sides, I think? Maybe OOC Sunday.
Summary: You learn about Robin's death, and rush to console Sunday. He isn't the thing you should be worrying about, though.
A/N: It's been a while! Came back to write this, because I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. It's rushed, and it's not really well-written, and it's short. Please forgive me~ (I am obsessed with Gallagher rn, so if anyone has any ideas I would love to hear and write about them :D (I still don't know how to properly use tumblr btw))
“Sunday? Are you in there?”
No answer. You drum your fingers against your sides nervously.
“Sunday, can we talk? Please?”
Still no answer. Your heart beats widely in your chest.
You ignore your thunderous heart as you slowly push the doors of the mansion open. The creaking doors echo and bounce along the empty halls, revealing a giant room, devoid of any light. A luxurious bed, dorned with lights and gems and painted with beautiful colors, is tucked away at the very side of the room. Sunday’s bedroom.
The factions had established that, other than the man himself, Sunday’s blood-related family, along with his spouse, would have access to it. Sunday himself had no permission to grant access to anyone, so you are surprised when the bellhop simply glanced at you and let you in without protest.
You could only guess it was because you two were close friends, and they were used to seeing you enter the Pavilion as children. Still, to enter his bedroom must be a breach in security…
But he wasn’t in any other room you could find. Time was slipping, lives were being lost, and you needed to find him. Fast.
You’re not exactly in the know. Most things you know, only Gallagher has told you. But you know full well that Sunday needs support.
“Sunday, please. I know I haven’t visited in… a while. I know what happened, and I’m sorry. Let’s work this out together. Don’t run away. Please?”
Only your echoes answer.
You were rambling to yourself at this point, desperation climbing further and further up to your chest. You have seen what Sunday does when he loses those he loves- and you want to help him. You don’t ever want to see him like that again. Never again.
You glance at the papers scattered on his desk. Maybe they have some information on where he went. He likes to rant in diaries.
You close your eyes, and pray to whatever Aeon you follow.
Forgive my sins for ever trespassing privacy to this extent.
You don’t exactly have a clear mind when you start to rummage through the papers that endured wear and tear. You start to read some.
How could she do this?
It’s fine. It’s fine. Itsfineitsfineitsfineitsfineitsfine
Robin. Dear Aeons, Robin.
When I find the traitor I will make them pay in blo o d
Please don’t leave me please
Please please please please pleasepleas e
Your stomach drops. Poor Sunday.
Something else catches your eye, though. A soft reflection of a photo, pinned at the corner of the widespread desk. You lean over to take a good look at it.
You bite your lip so hard it nearly breaks skin. But even that dulls in comparison to the piles and piles of photos- all of them just you and Gallagher.
There are a wide range of those photos; from you two sitting across each other in the Dreamjolt Hostelry, to your hands linked together, faces flushed and smiles bright. All of them, with Gallagher’s face crossed out with glaring, red circles.
How dare he HOW DARE HE HOW DARE HE
HE DID IT HE KILLED HER HE TOOK THEM I WILL MAKE HIM PAY
The words are jagged and rough, as if he had barely managed to carve it out with his bare hands. It is a gigantic contrast to the sweet and elegant cursives he writes in his letters to you. It almost made you believe it wasn’t even Sunday who wrote this.
But you’re not stupid. You swallow the bile down your throat as your stomach churns with heightened fear and uncertainty. Sunday is a clever man, which makes him infinitely more dangerous.
Admittedly, he is far more unhinged than the public understands. You’ve never had a problem with it- only crazy can recognize crazy, and that was probably how he uncovered the plan of that gambler.
This doesn’t work in your favor, though. You don’t want to know what it means when he directs this insanity towards you.
You turn to leave.
“Ah, you found me.”
A hand shoots out to grip your arm, and you have no time to react. Shock, as quick as it comes, is slow to settle down. You try to scream.
“Oh Triple-Faced Soul, please seal this traitor's tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that the traitor will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.”
No.
Your whole body goes cold. You feel it- the soft waves of Harmony pulsing in your head, trapping your tongue and seeing through your eyes. You had seen its effect- seen how it slaughters and breaks those who disobey. But to receive this kind of treatment yourself…
You finally process the dangerous situation you’re in, and wrench free from his grasp. You regain your stance as you stumble backwards, a question on the tip of your tongue. “Why?”
Sunday looks… off. His clothes are askew, his eyebags more apparent without the illusion of Harmony, and a smile, out of place and out of his mind. He chuckles, far too gentle, so much so that it sends shivers down your spine.
“You know how this goes, don’t you?” he coos, berating and condescending. “Answer my questions truthfully, or suffer the rejection of the Harmony.”
“Why would I ever lie to you?” you ask, “What is there even to ask?”
His eye twitches. His voice drops an octave, laced with poison and jealousy. “You know perfectly well what I mean.”
He breathes in, regaining his footing as the questions begin. “Are you interested in Gallagher? Is he interested in you?”
You think of him. A few hours ago, he insisted he came along to find Sunday with you. You’re starting to regret that decision. “Yes- and, I… I think so.”
Sunday tsks. “Do you know what he is? What it is?”
You cross your arms. “No. He is not human, but I am not exactly a young damsel in distress myself.”
“Do you not understand? That that man is nothing but a memetic entity, with thousands of truths woven together as a lie? Do you not know that the man you hold hands with killed Robin in cold blood? Why would you want to be with a foul beast like him?”
You are taken aback at the venom in Sunday’s tone. He isn’t even hiding it anymore. His breathing is ragged, and his eyes are blown wide.
“I… didn’t.” you admit, far too overwhelmed by his genuine frustration to confirm the validity in his claims.
Sunday suddenly withdrawals, as if sensing he has taken you off guard. He draws himself to his full height, casting a shadow with the light outside in the halls. The pulses in your head die out, as if they were never there.
“You are being tricked, dearest. He is not the man you think he is. He is a monster, a murderer, that serves under a shameful stain. Join me, in the pursuit of the Watchmaker. We can make all of them pay in blood.”
He rants, and you feel your heart sink. He is unstable because of this recent loss, but he has clearly not lost his mind. There is still rhyme and reason to what he does.
“My past? Hah, let’s not get into that just yet. I’ll tell you- someday.”
You glance down at the hand he offers you. His gaze is tender, but far too fragile. His lips are quivering, a silent plea.
You want to reject him. You want to scream at him, punch him, and run away, as far as possible. Gallagher had promised he would explain himself one day, and you had not mentally prepared yourself to know.
But given the unstable state he was in, it is unwise to simply respond with violence.
You reach out for his hand- only for a blade, dark and violet laced with gold, piercing from his stomach. Blue liquid pours from his gut, and this time, you truly do scream.
You don’t hear anything. The withdrawal of the blade is defeated by the look of despair and shock in Sunday’s eyes. He reaches for your hand, in a blind desperation- only to dissipate at the softest graze into a sea of bubbles.
Your heart thunders in your ribcage. A silent dread washes over you, and you hear your breaths grow shorter.
A lighter goes out.
Strong, warm arms envelop you.
A voice, low and gruff, tells you that it’s going to be okay. The voice hovers over your ear, gentle and sweet, almost fabricated to ghost over your ear in a way you can’t refuse. You don’t respond, though, as you feel a sharp cut to your neck, and you’re out like a light.
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr gallagher#hsr sunday#sunday x reader#sunday x you#gallagher x reader#gallagher x you#hsr gallagher x reader
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everytime i post something ace attorney related i feel like i get judged by the council of “whether this is qualified to be a decent post” or whatever by ancient people who have been in the fandom way longer than I have
I wasted time on this stupid post I'm so sorry
#phoenix wright#wrightworth#narumistu#miles edgeworth#ace attorney#ace attorney fanart#artwork#fanart
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OH MY GOODNESS. i am so so bad at words but i will do my best to convey my feelings: your writing is so, so so gorgeous and everything is timed so so perfectly and the characters personality are always always on point and the reader!!! i really feel a connection w ur reader and i love that a lot… the situations u come up with and how u convey and explore them, especially w ur recent kazuha fic…. BEAUTIFUL T_T im one of the biggest kazuha lovers on earth i am always always loving him and thinking abt his character and the way u delved into his mind without changing who he was at core???? my god. i am swooning. even the other characters that showed up for a bit were on point as well. it was all super impactful and i love it alot. thank u!!! thank u for writing and being the writer u are and blessing us w ur stories !!!
hellO???? i just came back to look at sm good art but,, this- NO ONE TOLD ME I WAS GOING TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK
ur so sweet and lovely and oh my god u had me smiling all DAY, im gonna frame this on a wall and mWAH thank you so much anon, ive never a message as beautiful as this before and i hope you have a fantastic week!!
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words: 10k! holy shI－
fandom: genshin impact
pairing: kaedehara kazuha x FEM!reader
warnings: no beta we die like tomo
prompt: change + kazuha
summary: change comes in many forms. as a wandering samurai who’s reliving the past of tomo and you, his little sister, kazuha thinks he knows a thing or two about it.
a/n: PLEASE IGNORE ALL PLOTHOles i don’t know where i was going with this plz
“But you, you’re supposed to change. You’re never the same even moment to moment － you’re allowed and expected to invent who you are. What an incredible power － the ability to ‘grow up’.”
－ Rose Quartz, Steven Universe
───────────────
The wind is silent tonight.
Not in the way the crewmembers would think; during voyages, the wind tells its many stories. Its howls and hollow whispers tell of the thrill and beauty of the world, beckoning Kazuha to abandon the ship and flee to wherever it takes him.
In some days, he finds comfort in its loud howls, how it tells him of treasures cradled in sand beaches and legacies of adventurers lost to time. He finds comfort in the soft wisps mourning yet another being’s life cut short, or soft lullabies that soothes birds to sleep.
Tonight, however, it is quiet. It remains unresponsive to his calling, and he does not feel in control. He feels… lost.
Kazuha supposes it is because the Alcor is approaching the suffocating air of Inazuma. Though its borders are no longer closed, fresh life has yet to wash onto its shores.
He never sleeps during the night. Sometimes, he tucks himself into his little bed, but the creak of the ceiling and the soft waves of the sea kept him awake, no matter how hard he tried to be accustomed to it over the years. He usually climbs up the crow’s nest and welcomes the gentle breeze that carcasses his face. On even rarer occasions, Beidou will come out from her office and chide him to get down from there.
None of that happened tonight. Tonight, it is not the lull of the sea or the wind that keeps him away.
Tonight, it’s his thoughts. And they haunt him.
He is not one to mull over past experiences. In fact, he thinks he handles it fairly well. But he was young, he was immature－ he made bad decisions that scarred him.
For example, meeting you.
He didn’t really know what he had done in his past life for fate to weave in such a way, all those years ago. That day, there was also little to no wind, no cool breeze or stormy weather. It was just silent, and it scared him.
While he walked around the outskirts of the mansion, he saw you.
Little ten-year-old Kazuha was aware that his family had a reputation to keep, hence the friendliness they gestured towards their neighbors. He knew each and every one of their faces, the way their eyebrows would furrow and their eyes would crinkle. But he has never seen any children the same age as him.
Maybe it was your bright smile, maybe it was your eccentric behavior of carving rocks, maybe it was your sweet voice that sang to your flowers－ but he had looked out from his engawa, and an urge to meet you, to know you set his heart aflame.
But the weight of his family name anchored his feet, and he could only watch you from afar, as you excitedly told your friend that your roses have finally started to bloom.
Actually, he had talked to you, but only because you had no such burden. He’s sure you had no idea of his longing, but perhaps you sensed his loneliness, because you marched up to him and asked for his name.
“What’s your name?” you ask.
Kazuha was hesitant－ this was a family name, he had to bare it, but would it scare you away?－ “Kaedehara Kazuha.”
“Ooh, Kaedehara! Sounds like a long and fancy name.” came a pretty laugh. “Wanna know my name?”
Kazuha nodded, with full expectancy for a name to paint your face. But you simply chuckled and shook your head. “It’s a secret!”
The friend beside you also huffs out a laugh. “Honestly…” he shook his head, the ear stuck in between his teeth flowing with every shake. “Call me Tomo, then. Come on, let’s ditch her and play temari instead.”
“Hey!”
At least, that’s what he think he said. He could hardly remember that compared to how our hand felt so warm as he shook it, and your smile was so, so bright. He remembers feeling a fuzzy feeling swelling in his chest, a desire to be polite to you, to be sincere with you.
From that day on, he joined your little friend group. The wind had stayed silent on his little celebration that day.
Kazuha still thinks, back then, Tomo was fully aware of the weight his name carried. Did you? Or were you simply stubbornly ignorant? That was a quality that refused to change.
“Kazuha!”
Eyelids flit open. Down below, Beidou’s figure is barely seen.
“Have you been sleeping up there? Get down!” chides Beidou, worry clear on her face. He squints, and sees her sigh. “At least you got some shut-eye…”
Guilt pools in his gut. “Apologies!” he yells over the wind. “I couldn’t sleep very well in my shed.”
Wind? He turns his head towards the sea, and－ oh.
What a beautiful view.
Kazuha has seen sunrises before; he has seen them glow brilliantly up in the sky, and hang low in the late hours of dusk.
Perhaps, through a hopeful lens, the sun glows brighter than ever before. It coats the world a yellowish orange, with blue skies painted with purple along its edges. Distant crows flap their wings, soaring into the mountains as little specks of black.
Sunrises signal a new day for the world, as everyone arises from their slumber and readies themselves. Just below, Kazuha can hear the yells of crewmates calling each other to help one another.
It symbolizes much more beginnings other than a day. Kazuha would know. He spent a million sunrises with you.
It was always you that dragged him out. His mansion was big, with a line of bservants answering to his every beckon－ but maybe the security then wasn’t tight enough, because you always managed to sneak your way into his bedroom windows.
After a few months of conversation, it was clear you were from a clan, but your birth was not a joyful occasion.
For all your passionate personality barely brimming within its constraints of mannerisms, you and Tomo never really talked about your history. Why you both had had much free time, why you both talked with no filter, why the servants that watched over you looked like they wanted to kill you rather than protect you. It was always ‘Why are you obsessed with maple leaves?’ or ‘Why do you like haiku?’, but never about you.
It occurred to him halfway, very embarrassingly, that Tomo was not your friend, but rather your brother.
(He doesn’t remember when Tomo became Tomo. He knew his name, now hardly ever grazing his tongue, but he had always been Tomo. And you－ you have always been someone special.)
You reveal your thoughts to him while you three were adventuring on Yashiori Island.
“My mother was forced into pregnancy twice before that bastard went to war,” you bite out, and Kazuha had never heard you swear before, “But they all blamed her. I don’t get it. She… she never wanted us. She didn’t have a choice.”
“We’re here now.” Tomo sighs, a bittersweet grin on his face. “We’ll find our partners some day, and we’ll restore the clan’s name. But when they come begging for our help, we’ll turn them down.”
You swat Tomo’s arm with a frown. “When our feats rebuild our clans, it will sever ties from ours’ cruel history completely－ which also means severing any cruel personalities we may inherit. We will help them.”
When Tomo huffs, you nudge him. “Besides, we’re a powerful sibling clan! Nothing can beat us!”
You both were near obsessed with severing ties with your previous clan. The thought itself brings a sour taste to his tongue. How badly have they mistreated you two for such passion about leaving them to exist?
“And you’ll help us too, right?” you turn your head, grin bright and hopeful. “You could be… someone important! Like our advisor!”
“Are you crazy?” Tomo hisses under his breath, barely above a whisper, clearly only meant for your ears. But the wind tells him everything. “He’s from the illustrious Kaedehara Clan, inviting him is just sullying his name!”
While Kazuha is grateful for Tomo’s awareness of the burdens of a clan, it still sours his mood to be shut down without his voice of opinion.
“You’re not wrong.” Kazuha speaks, “But the Kaedehara clan has long since started falling apart ever since my great-grandfather’s generation. My father is doing everything he can to make amends, but I doubt I could shoulder its troubles passed onto me.”
A hand gently pats his shoulder. Kazuha glances at you, and he sees deep concern pooling in your eyes. “Are you okay?”
Hm. What a question. Not many have asked him this. How should he respond? ‘Fine, thank you for asking’. But even he cannot rely on that forever.
For a time, he masked his insecurities. He hid his flaws, denied his fears, all to put on a brave face for you and Tomo. He believed, then, you two would benefit from the son of Kaedehara Kageharu, and there would be no reason for you two to shun him away.
But you two seem quite different. You two embrace your flaws, learn from your mistakes, and look forward to a future you two alone will create. Could he be like that, too?
“No,” replies Kazuha, the walls of Kaedehara collapsing before your very eyes. “I don’t think so. My father tells me to abandon our name and carry on with my heart guiding me, for there is no use in a family if it is miserable. But I’m a coward. How should I, a lone son, be the one to destroy the remnants of a clan?”
“It was your ancestor, a lone person, that started a lineage of refined blacksmiths. What makes you any different?” Tomo interjects, despite your low hiss of ‘Tomo!’.
“They created something new, a lineage that would last on for generations－ and I will be the one to destroy it all. Its history will be erased, and I will be the last standing proof of its existence.” Kazuha rebuffs, clenching his fists on his lap. “I think there’s plenty of a difference. Who will be there to record my history?”
Silence befalls the three, and anxiety seizes his heart. He shouldn’t have told you this, is he going to truly scare you away－ ?
A hand, silky smooth and soft, unfurls his fist with gentle pries. “We will, of course.” you say, “If you don’t wanna join us, it’s completely fine. We’ll still be there to write legends and tales so large the people outside Inazuma will hear about it. Right Tomo?”
Tomo nods. “Kaedehara Kazuha, the son of Kageharu that faced his collapsing clan with bravery! You’re a legend in the making.”
Kazuha can only sit in silence as tears flow into his eyes, much much both your panic. Archons, he had been so afraid of rejection, of mockery of his concerns, it was such a relief. How could he had ever doubted you? Your kindness, your identical smiles, you.
“Oh, yeah, I brought this rock.” you speak up, with a dagger in hand. “Let’s craft your first ever bonsai. To celebrate the start of a legend!”
Tomo laughs, and you smile, brighter than ever. Kazuha feels his heart free from its shackles, the birth of a genuine friendship blossoming under sunrise.
He has always felt free and flowing ever since then. He moves with grace, but he doesn’t think he would have ever done so without you.
“Hey, kid,” a man lifting some crater brings him back to the present. Maybe he’s reminiscing too much lately. “Can you help me carry these?”
“Sure.” answers Kazuha. It’s probably because he’s approaching Inazuma－ the land of bitter tears. What ifs race across his mind.
The sun is hanging high in the sky, and he is reminded of your smile.
“… and A-Xu told me, ‘So what if Furong has a crush on the captain? Beidou’s clearly got the hots for the Tianquan.’ Is that true?”
“Probably. Why else do you think we can get away with such leniency?－ Ah, kid! What’re you carrying?”
Kazuha scans the labeled box. “Some silk flowers imported from Liyue. Addressed to… Watatsumi.”
The first woman clicks her tongue. “Probably for it’s barren land. Hm, but I heard it was different on the bill?”
“Sangonomiya and General Gorou are committing tax fraud after all.” the second whispers, and Kazuha very wisely chooses to ignore that.
The atmosphere is awkward before the first breaks into a groan.
“Boy, the sun is scalding today, isn’t it?”
“Clear skies can soothe a person’s heart. It’s better than thunderstorms, isn’t it?” Kazuha laughs, grateful for the change of topic.
“You’re right, you’re right…”
“Probably because the traveler’s on their way to challenge every known god in the universe, including the Shogun.”
“Really?!”
Now that was amusing.
He doesn’t really have any comments on the cold, but he especially doesn’t mind the heat. It reminds him of sandy beaches and you running along its shores, the waves lapping softly under your feet.
Tomo has started to venture into more dangerous islands during that time. At first, you and Kazuha were worried sick when he announced he would set sail for Seirai Island, but he always comes back in one piece. Probably because of his swordsmanship.
“You can’t beat a member of our clan!” Tomo had barked out with a laugh, though Kazuha was sure he’s not talking about the one he’s occupying right now.
You and Kazuha aren’t really one for adventures; at least, not anymore. While the three of you used to hop from place to place, it seems responsibilities have chained both of you down.
(Tomo was braver. He always was, out of the three of you. Willing to explore, to try, to embrace the new. He was far more fit for a wanderer than any of you.)
As you both near the age of becoming adults, you have been told to serve your clan as a servant, and.
“Something seems to be on your mind.” comments Kazuha once. Tomo has yet to return from his adventures.
You pause in your endeavor of carving yet another rock. You have probably mastered crafting rock bonsais by now. “… I’m allowed to serve my clan again.”
“You don’t look too happy about it.”
Your gaze is annoyed, as if asking him why he had to be so observant.
“I’m… going to serve them as a servant.” you mutter, soft and embarrassed.
Kazuha nearly sees red.
The only child willing to serve the clan was treated as nothing more than a mere servant? Absurd. Perhaps, if it were any other person, he would remain calm－ but how could he ever, when you seemed so dejected, so resigned to your fate?
“Come to the Kaedehara clan.” he blurts out, much to both of your surprise. “I’m sure my father can treat you much better there.”
You blink, and laugh. “I can’t sully your name.”
“You won’t be.” Kazuha insists. “My father has known you for years.”
“Yes, but the public won’t take it as kindly as he does.” You turn back to your rock. “Your father is a kind man, but I can’t trouble you both any further.”
“Then leave the clan.” he persists. “How are you any better off than being mistreated and neglected all those years?”
“I can’t.” A particularly aggressive carve on the rock startles Kazuha a little. “It’s either me, or Tomo. I can’t－ I won’t－ chain him to this responsibility.”
“Tomo is your brother.” Kazuha feels－ angry? Disappointed? Sad?－ a feeling that chokes his throat. “The first and only son of your clan. It’s his responsibility, not yours.”
You turn to him. “So what if it is? Tomo is happy, living his risky life as an adventurer. I’m clearly otherwise. Why not find something to do?”
“But you won’t be any happier.” Kazuha reminds. “You chase the excitement and fulfillment that he feels, yes? Why willingly walk away from the only chance you can do so, and offer yourself in cuffs and chains?”
“It’s either me, or him.” you repeat, as if you have told yourself this many times to cement your decision. “Just… just leave it, Kazuha. Please.”
But Kazuha won’t, he can’t. Where was your passion? Your bright spirit to hang your head high? “What about the sibling clan?”
You chuckle mirthlessly. “It was just a foolish fantasy. Tomo and I will go our separate ways. As long as he’s happy and thriving… I have no complaints.”
A foolish fantasy. A fantasy that is rooted from your ambitions and hope. He refuses to believe it would go out so easily.
“Then stand.”
You look up at his slowly standing figure with confusion.
Kazuha brandishes his blade. “Each servant must be accompanied with a set of skills in order to protect the master and abide by their wishes. Show me the will of a servant to protect her brother.”
You only ogle at his intimidating stance, but the look is gone in the blink of an eye. You grab a branch nearby, because you know Kazuha would never hurt you, and you’re right－ you don’t need a blade to win this argument.
Kazuha’s heart skips a beat at your fast adaptation.
You bend into a defensive stance. “Don’t underestimate the swordsmanship of an adventurer’s disciple.”
Disciple? That word brought a smile to his face. For you are Tomo’s sister, his pride and joy when your mother shunned you away.
Perhaps that rebellious nature that he loved still there after all.
Love?
“Ah, shit, you kidding me?!”
The soft pitter patter of rain gently lands on Kazuha’s nose.
“It was my good shirt, too!” Furong whines, and beside her, Beidou chuckles.
“It’s just a little rain. C’mon, I’ll help you dry your clothes later.”
“O-oh, okay. I mean, yes captain!”
How ironic, a weather that would bring most in bad moods usually involves the most romantic cliches. Sharing an umbrella, dancing under the rain, running along together with nothing but jackets and bags as covers, while being drenched anyway－ the light novels from Yae Publishing House feature a large variety of such topics.
Unfortunately, neither you or Kazuha could share such a sentiment of romance.
He remembered noting that rain was bound to fall that day－ so he stayed inside. He was lucky he was near his nearly-abandoned mansion at the time.
He has long been freed from the remnants of the Kaedehara clan, and has set off as a wanderer, where he truly belongs; with the sky as his ceiling and the world as his home, there is nothing else that he is unsatisfied with.
Perhaps the only downside to becoming a wandering samurai is not meeting up with you and Tomo every day. He has yet to venture outside Inazuma, so he can still return to your neighboring house. Sometimes, Tomo will not be there, to yet another adventure, and sometimes Tomo accompanies him. All he knows is that you will always be there, in your mansion, scrubbing the floors and answering your relatives’ calls.
He had wondered what you were doing without him today. Perhaps brushing the corridors? Washing clothes? Doing the laundry? Or going out on a stroll with another boy?
The last idea perplexed and uneased him. What if he tried to take advantage of you? Rob you of your things? Or worse, try to flirt with you?
The thoughts have plagued him lately; holding hands with another, being wed to another, or worse－ bearing children for another. Though it is your choice on how to lead your life, Kazuha can’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy when that picture comes to mind.
And yes, he must admit… he has some form of attraction towards you, rather romantically than platonically. Your beauty was never something he ignored, but it seemed to constantly drive him nearly insane these days. He doesn’t even remember when he started to feel this way.
But even his feelings towards you cannot blind him to the state of Inazuma. At this rate, Kazuha’s sure the Kaedehara clan will fall apart, but that pales in comparison to the new decree their god has issued.
The Vision Hunt Decree－ a decree that forbids any usage of visions, and a decree that enforces the Shogun’s army to confiscate any vision that existed.
Kazuha envied vision wielders, once; when he thought his martial prowess would improve drastically with strength from the gods. Now, they are nothing more than troublesome pests for the Tenryou Commision to squash down.
But he isn’t a person to think of vision wielders as such. To be graced with the power of the gods, to have ambitions so strong that the gods would observe them, and grant them visions to aid in their ambition－ is that not a miracle that should belong to wielders themselves?
The winds have become much stiffer ever since the Sakoku Decree was upheld as well. Many with visions, scared half to death, tried to flee, but the thunderstorm barriers that came along with the decree shocked all of them to death. What a terrifying notion.
Soon, it became clear that there was no way for the wielders to run－ so they hid. Set up fake identities, fake their deaths, anything to go under the Tenryou Commission’ radar.
Out of the three of you, both him and Tomo had a vision, yet he was the boldest out of all the three. Despite both your desperate pleas and begs, Tomo refused to go into hiding. He stood firm against the soldiers, and you nearly cried－ no, you did cry－ at his stubbornness.
“Why won’t you just listen to me?!” you cried in full hysteria, “Tomo, this is the rule of a god, not a playground bully! Please, please, give up your endeavor and just follow Naganohara into hiding!”
Tomo had stayed silent, the ear still stuck between his teeth. “There will always be those who dare to brave the lighting’s glow. If I die, there will be another who steps up in my place.”
You had slapped him, and your continued string of pleas barely made it to Kazuha’s ears. For Tomo’s words rang deep, engraving into his mind.
The sky was dark that day, too.
A constant rapping on the door alerted him, but he insisted for his ill father to rest in his bed, and told the servants to be at ease－ for ever since you took up that position as servant, he has been much lenient towards his own.
When he opened the door, you seemed to be in utter disarray, and it scared him. Your hair was disheveled, your clothes covered in mud and drenched in rain, and your eyes were filled to the brim with panic.
The next few words you spoke would ignite a raw sense of panic that he could barely contain.
“Tomo’s gone to challenge the Shogun.” you croak out, and it all went downhill from there.
Your shaking hands find their way into your pocket, pulling out a letter. Therein lay the contents of Tomo apologizing to you, but he must go and make a stand. The rest were left unread as the two of you raced towards Tenshukaku.
Kazuha was ready to challenge the Shogun himself, to parry the Muso No Hitotachi, to push him away from the divine punishment－ anything to save him.
And your happiness.
But by the time you two reached the flight of stairs, it was far too late.
You both see Tomo’s staggering figure as he falls from his tired stupor.
“Witness your divine punishment.”
Kazuha thinks he hears you screaming, but Tomo’s back is turned, and his vision slips from his hands. It flings itself from the impact of the oncoming slash, and it is begging to not be taken by the hands of the Tenryou Commission.
But of course. An aspiration so big and grand, just to be buried under the cold statue of a god? That is something Kazuha will never forgive.
Before he can think, Kazuha snatches the dying vision, and barrels towards you. He takes your hand in his, despite your strong protest, and runs.
The sky turns darker for a brief moment, with edges of purple lining along your shadows. Though your backs are turned, a violent shudder goes up your spine. This was the ultimate symbol of supreme power over mortals.
“That’s Kaedehara Kazuha, the last son of the Kaedehara clan!”
“What? N-nevermind, seize him under the decree! Kaedehara Kazuha is now a wanted fugitive! Bring him back alive!”
He doesn’t remember how long he runs after the divine punishment occured; through the storm and the heavy clap of its lighting, he pushes on. At some point, he lets go of your hand, and though you fall behind, you have yet to completely fall out from his pace.
“Freeze! Vision Hunt Decree!”
You both fight against various soldiers. Their looks are eager to rope you back to Tenshukaku.
Not even the rain can wash away their blood as you two venture on.
Thousands of thoughts race across his mind. Where should he go? Where should he take you? Where in Teyvat will you two escape a god’s wrath?
You two barely reach the shore of Narukami when a boatman stops you. Kazuhas instincts return tenfold, and he unsheathes his blade－ but the boatman takes one look at him.
“Kaedehara, that’s you, right? Get on board, I’ll get you out!”
Confusion flints across your face, and he’s sure he looks the same way as well. “But… why are you helping me? I’m a wanted fugitive.”
“Obviously the Yashiro－” grumbles the boatman, but he cuts himself off. “An anonymous financial sponsor wants you to get out safely. You can bring your girl along, too.”
He’s sure if under less dire circumstances, you would have had plenty of things to say to that.
“But there’s only so much they can do. After this, you’ll be on your own.”
Kazuha nods, relief of a supporting figure nearly making him buckle his knees. “Thank you. I am in your debt.”
“As am I.” you say, but before you two can clamber onto the boat, there is a strange direction of wind in the midst of rain－
The wind is his companion, his ears and eyes when he is lost and wandering. It had accompanied him and journeyed with him through mountains and rivers, and it warns him－
He ignores it, and that was his fatal mistake.
You suddenly scream and collapse onto the ground. Kazuha quickly glances at you, horror etched on his face at the sudden arrow now stuck on your waist.
“Vision Hunt Decree!”
From a distance, tropes begin to emerge from the rain’s shadow, armed with spears.
“Shit!” the boatman curses, “There were more?!”
“Kaedehara Kazuha!” comes a familiar voice, and Kazuha is met with the determined eyes of Kujou Sara. “This is your final warning. Surrender now, and no one else gets hurt.”
“Fucking piece of shit－”
You rise from the ground, and turn to the boatman.
“It’s him they want, yeah? I’ll distract them. Row away as quickly as you can－ I can hold off these guys, but it’s only a matter of time. Go!”
For a moment, the world slows to a stop. The words that left your mouth made no sense to him－ what do you mean? Was he to leave you alone?
No. Nononononono. He lost Tomo, he can’t lose you too.
“I’ll be fine,” you make out, despite your trembling figure and the pool of red that slowly taints your clothes. “A little arrow isn’t going to stop me. Go, and don’t you dare come back!”
His feeble hand reaches for your turning figure, but the boatman pleads him to stay－ he didn’t listen, but he was forced into the boat anyway.
“Don’t you dare die!” he screams, hoarse and desperate with some form of assurance that you’ll be okay.
You laugh, even when you fling thousands of soldiers away from his direction. “Don’t underestimate the anger of a vengeful sister!”
The world is numb to his cries and yells, as the boatman forces him to stay put. He can only watch your little figure dancing a battle with one of the deadliest forces of the Tenryou Commission, watch your little staggers and hear your groans, as he is rowed away from the very person he was supposed to protect.
With such a fatal wound, plus a battle that you cannot hold onto forever－ it is a death that is bound to come.
In one, short day, he had lost two of the most important people in his life.
He can only curl in the little boat and let sobs tear out from his throat.
A loud clap of thunder jolts him from his memory. He breathes, and exhales. That happened years ago. He is no longer the little boy that sacrificed two of his precious friends to escape his punishment. He is a man with a simmering hope to fight with the resistance.
Maybe rain is a special weather. It is when most conflicts arise, when the things most precious to you are anchored on soil, bare and for him to see.
The affection that nestles deep beneath his heart for Tomo will never grow stale. His fondness for you has yet to waver with each passing day.
Yet, there is a difference. He has wallowed in his mourning and has moved past it, but a soft whisper of the wind tells him you are still alive. Maybe fully recovered, maybe barely breathing, but your pulse is read in soft wisps, and it travels to his presence. A soft reminder that you are waiting for him in Inazuma.
The hope that you could still be alive, you could still smile yet again, strives him to set sail for Inazuma once more－ facing its thunder head-on.
───────────────
Inazuma is sadly still in its sorry state－ but Kazuha is stronger now. He’s ready to protect, to defend, to save.
Him and Beidou snuck into the battle of Nazuchi Beach, where the resistance was facing the Shogun’s army on the front lines.
Needless to say, with their additional help, plus Her Excellency’s return, the resistance has secured a temporary victory. Watatsumi soldiers would have rejoiced at gaining the upper hand－
－ Had a Tenryou soldier not snuck up on them and nearly sniped Beidou.
Kazuha had not made the same mistake twice, of course; over the course of his travels, he had become sharper, faster, a better samurai to save. The winds warn him of high tides and dark clouds, so he dashes for shelter. It tells him who is coming and when, so he prepares himself.
It tells him when his friend is going to get killed, so he sprints.
Kazuha prides himself in his martial prowess, but that confidence has washed away the moment it whispers; ‘It’s okay. Someone else’s got this.’
For a brief, terrifying moment, he doubts the wind－ but that second is over, and a sharp clap of pyro collides with the arrow, and the overload roars as a puff of explosion knocks the soldier down.
“Did that guy try to assassinate Captain Beidou?!“
“Quick, pin him down!”
Forces immediately swarm the soldier, their disgust evident on their face as they haul him for interrogation.
Beidou lets out a bark of laughter, barely concealing disappointment in herself for her lack of defence. “Looks like the Conqueror of Haishan gets to live another day.” she mutters to herself.
Kazuha places a hand on her shoulder. “Please, do not be harsh on yourself. Mistakes happen.”
“Mistakes that nearly cost my life.” Beidou sighs. She turns to the retreating figure with a clap on the back. “And I have you to thank. Don’t think you can slip away, young lady.”
The figure tenses, but turns back around to meet Beidou’s shining smile. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing? A load of bull.” Beidou swings an arm around her. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Hm.” The woman hums. “You can just call me Captain of Swordfish I.”
“But that’s so loooong.”
She refused to tell Beidou her name, no matter how much she pestered her－ but even if she didn’t, Kazuha wouldn’t need to hear it from her lips.
Arrow stuck in waists, stormy nights, Tomo－
It was you. He could remember your face anywhere, anytime. Though you have grown, some of your distinctive features remain.
Relief crashes into his chest, years of sincere hope and internal pleas coming into fruition. For you stand, in the Resistance, a pyro vision in hand－ true to your fiery, passionate nature.
He nearly buckles his knees, but he forces himself to stand. For a moment, you two exchange glances, and another nervous, rather shy feeling creeps up his throat. The feeling of enamourment slams into him tenfold, for you were more beautiful than he could ever imagine.
To his delightful surprise, you darted from his gaze, a small blush painting your cheeks. Sort of… adorable.
“I’ll be going now.” you bow to Beidou. You turn to your troops. “All forces return to Watatsumi Island to recuperate!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
And, just as quickly you left him, you were gone once more.
You seemed to love disappearing the moment he was in the room, apparently. Even when giving a report to Her Excellency, you interrupt yourself mid-sentence and kindly ask for permission to leave the tent that shields you from the rain.
Kazuha doesn’t think the weather was this serious before. But it has been a while since he came back to Inazuma, so he was quite unfamiliar with the changes that happened. Mondstadt’s free and low landscapes makes it a peaceful visit, with scattered ruins and a couple of hilichurls walking around. All in all, it was safe. Secure. Liyue has high mountains and a rich history behind each scenery, plus their cuisine is divine and the collabs Xinyan and Yunjin performed were nothing short of amazing. So, from some people’s perspective, Inazuma, a land of thunder and constant danger, would not be the safest place to live in.
And Kazuha understands why. From the outside, everything looks almost the same; the Tartagami, the dangers of Kairagi and Nobushi, the solemn tension that lays akin to a thick blanket draping on surviving civilizations.
From the inside, however, many things have changed. Restrictions are pressing on, but people are no longer sheltering in their homes. They are sick and tired of the Shogun’s incapability to understand mortal stubbornness.
Thus, the resistance. A safe haven for those with visions and those who wish to fight alongside them. No matter how powerful vision wielders are, they are small in size. In this scenario, quantity beats quality, but they are no longer alone.
And, well, you. He didn’t expect to see you. He thought you would still be mourning the loss of your brother. Perhaps it was your grief that spurred you on.
Whatever the case, the only two children remotely connected to your clan have fallen, and it has collapsed all-together. You didn’t seem to mind, though.
Some days, you are seen talking with the traveler, who meets you and befriends you at a rapid pace. Some days, you are discussing the anonymous supplies sent to the resistance with General Gorou. Some days, you train with the soldiers with a spark he thought was long gone.
Your rebellious nature against injustice was never gone. It was still there, burning bright and true, hidden behind the thin veil of obedience. It’s just being compressed, just waiting for the right spark.
He likes it. He likes your nature, the comforting wind that follows everything to huff in agitation, or wheezing after a particularly bad joke, your tears, your smiles.
Some days, you simply bask in the beauty of Watatsumi near a waterfall, as if you couldn’t believe what was happening. Kazuha watches you from time to time, sharing such a sentiment.
Tonight, the moon hangs high.
“How long are you going to keep watching me?”
Your voice is cold, and it sends shivers up his spine. He doesn’t remember you anymore. Some remnants of you are here; your roots, your habits, your pet peeves, they’re all evident in more ways than one.
At the same time, however, you are not her. You’re not the same girl that proclaims to revive your clan. You’re not the same girl that carved rocks as bonsai, the little ten-year-old that followed Tomo everywhere, the girl that promised a lifetime of fortune, to stand side-by-side with Tomo as adventurers.
You snap at those who disobey your commands as general. You glare at those who are brought in as spies from the Tenryou Commission. You aim your spear at the enemy, and drive it deep into their hearts.
“For a lifetime, if you’d let me.” smiles Kazuha, emerging from his tent.
You seem to have not expected him, because you jolt. “K- Kaedehara!” you stutter, and Kazuha frowns at his last name. “Forgive me, I didn’t expect you to be here.”
The little girl still resides somewhere, her kindness and strong sense of justice never wavering. But the body that she lies in is a cruel warrior, having seen many moons of battle and climbing up the ranks.
“You can call me Kazuha, you know,” he says, “I’m not going anywhere.”
You make a face of disbelief. “You’re going to hop on the Alcor the moment the civil war is finished, aren’t you?”
“Not yet.” Kazuha chuckles. “I expect myself to linger for just a while longer.”
“You’re a wanted fugitive.” you state, as if Kazuha hasn’t heard that a million times before. “You should probably go if you have the chance.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”
You scoff. “You wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Touché.”
It’s the first conversation you both have had in years, and of course it was about what happened. You were never one to beat around the bush.
“I can take you with me.” Kazuha suggests. “The crewmates are quite annoying at times, but you’ll get used to it.”
You shake your head, as expected. “It’s my duty to see this through.”
“How noble.” he teases.
You shrug. “These soldiers have been with me for years now. They are no match against the Shogun, let alone Kujou Sara. But it’s my job to take care of them, and watch them grow stronger.”
Your pyro vision glows.
Kazuha darts to your stomach, and you catch his gaze. You smile and pat your waist. “It’s all healed now. Still get cramps, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
It seems like the wound is holding you back, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“If you’re sure.” Kazuha hums. “How were you able to deal with them, anyway?”
Guilt settles on your features. “Teppei from the Logistics Division came to my rescue. Well, he kind of did. He alerted a nearby trope and they managed to fend them off and carry me away to safety.”
Good. That’s… that’s good. At least you weren’t alone. “I was supposed to protect you.” he mutters.
You frown. “Hey, none of that. I chose to stay behind. Besides, that boat was too small for three. If anything…” you sigh, “I was supposed to help you.
“I was too weak to do shit, and it pissed me off.” you snap. “I expressed my gratitude by joining the resistance. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, to save others to keep the guilt of losing another at bay. I dunno.
“I- I have no idea how you managed to survive.” you choke out, “Seeing you alive and well, it’s more than I could ever ask for. But I wasn’t strong enough. I left you, Kazuha. I don’t think I can ever face that guilt.”
Guilt－ what a funny thing. The world would be in much peril if such an emotion didn’t exist, but Kazuha wants nothing more than it to not. It’s holding both of you back. You both think you abandoned one another, and now you don’t know what to do with each other.
Watatsumi is an island far away from the thunder and wrath of the Shogun. It is peaceful, its melodic laps of waves tingle beneath his skin. It is home to those who escaped, a shelter for refugees and so-called criminals. It is a shame that it has such barren land.
Without the thunder, without the rain, maybe Watatsumi can be where his emotions lay to rest.
You have seemed to harbor your guilt for far too long, and a few words will not change that. It has to be you that brings yourself out of such a self-deprecating situation, like how Kazuha came to terms with his misfortunes.
One step at a time.
“… How have you been faring?” he asks, tentatively and softly.
You sigh. “Not well, to be honest. It’s stupid, really. I still haven’t really processed the drastic changes that happened. I’m just living and seeing where I go.”
A bandaged hand shyly places over yours. “So was I.”
You flare up with red cheeks and a stuttering tongue. Kazuha watches in amusement, feeling himself grow bolder with every moment.
Right, one step at a time.
───────────────
Kazuha doesn’t remember you, but he’s learning the you that he left all those years ago.
For example, your combat skills have increased significantly. While you were both patrolling (it was more like you were patrolling and he decided to tag along), some Nobushis were spotted crowding an abandoned cart, along with some Treasure Hoarders and their grubby hands.
He was ready to take care of this situation as swiftly as possible, but you have already barreled towards them like a bowling ball racing towards bowling pins. He learns that you are reckless in fights as you paint the battlefield in flames, but your strength is unmatched.
Just like Tomo, he notes solemnly. Perhaps he really had taught you everything he knew.
He also learns you have taken a keen interest in the arts, despite your constant hyperfocus on your training. He learned while he was gone, and the very brief time before you decided to join the resistance, you took up painting.
You apparently got inspired by the Legend of Sword, when you saw just how beautifully illustrated the pages were. You sometimes paint on the outskirts of Borou Village, sometimes on used paper, sometimes even on rocks. You have yet to master it, but Kazuha’s sure with your passionate nature, you will improve in no time.
You have also gained a pyro vision during his absence, obviously. You tell him, while you were still a low-ranked soldier, your peers were mentally exhausted and they were starting to grow doubtful of this never-ending war.
You didn’t do some ovation-deserving speech to encourage them, you just clenched your fists and thought about how you didn’t want to see them like this－ and if you had the power to personally stop the Raiden Shogun to end this war, you would do everything to achieve it. Your peers then turn around in shock, and that’s when you learn about the little pyro vision attached to your hip.
Now, Kazuha grew a little weary at this. An ambition to defy the will of an archon was still rewarded by the gods? You frequently assure him it’s fine, and his doubts dwindle into mere thoughts.
He learns, most importantly, about your feelings. You were lost without your brother’s guidance, and you have yet to forgive his selfishness and foolishness to sacrifice himself only to witness a divine punishment.
You swore that you would be the guiding light to victory, to never let your comrades grow doubtful of their ambitions. Maybe that was the first roots that led to your aspiration coming into fruition.
“He was more than my brother.” you say, “He was my best friend.”
In turn, Kazuha shares his stories with you. He tells you of the winds of Mondstadt, and the mountains of Liyue. He tells you every treasure he found, every ruin he explored, every landscape he scaled.
You seemed quite entertained, by the way your eyes sparkled at his every word.
Kazuha knows he has plenty of more adventures to go on. He cannot stay, for it dulls his connection with nature and his blade.
He wants to ask you to come with him. Surely, your additional company would welcome the Crux; Beidou wouldn’t mind having someone who saved her life on board.
But he doesn’t try to entertain that idea, and neither do you. You both aren’t protagonists of this world, it’s just not how it works (though, Kazuha supposes the traveler can be an exception). War is war, and this isn’t some playground fighting－ blood is to be shed, and lives are to be taken.
You both know this very well, so you both don’t dare to dream of a future that may never come.
The rest of the resistance seemed to fare well after their morale boost. Plus, some outside support from an anonymous sponsor has carried many battles to victory. Gorou seemed to let people pet his ears more, too, which was obviously the biggest bonus.
Plus, you got to be introduced to the esteemed traveler, and though you two barely have time to slip a word in with each other, you both have secured a friendship that will surely last through years to come. That is, assuming the traveler will stay after all is said and done.
Ever since you lost two of your closest friends in one go, you barely had the time to think about friends, let alone have enough emotional stability to have one. Kazuha’s glad with his appearance, you have finally started to let your guard down around everyone (even though his chest throbs a bit every time you get a tad too friendly with them).
You have even befriended a guard posted on Yashiori Island named Nathan－ though perhaps you were too careless this time, because even though his smiles are bright and his words are sweet, he carries a different aura altogether. For once, though, Kazuha is doubtful of his own instincts, because he’s afraid it’s due to his own jealousy rearing its ugly head.
It was safe to say, life on Watatsumi had finally halted to a temporary peace.
───────────────
Until it wasn’t, of course.
You and Kazuha both wielded visions, so you both had no reason for accepting the gadget that the anonymous sponsor sent you. It was a small, grey thing that functioned similarly to visions, and it was the main reason for the continuous victories lately.
(Of course he couldn’t have trusted them, of course there was an alternative motive, of course－)
“Her Excellency?” you bow immediately in her presence. Kazuha follows suit.
“At ease.” Sangonomiya commands, and you both rise up. Though her voice is light, the frown weighing her face says otherwise.
It strikes fear in your hearts. Kazuha has never seen her look so upset before.
“I must make haste, so I will be straightforward. Captain, Kaedehara, you two are people I trust, so the next few words I relay to you must be kept strictly confidential. Understand?”
To earn the complete trust of Sangonomiya is, no doubt, a high honor. And though a very, very small part of Kazuha dreads to hear the news, he will do anything to ease her worries, and he knows you do as well.
“Yes, Her Excellency.” you both nod.
Sangonomiya seems momentarily relieved, but the direness of the situation weighs on her again.
When she tells you both that soldiers started to show symptoms of accelerated aging, both of you feared the worst. Perhaps it was the wrath of the gods. Maybe it was a sign from them, a warning to not rebel against a god’s judgement. You have both never truly feared the gods, but the power they carry slowly dawns on you both－ and it isn’t a happy thought.
Kazuha saw you walk around the tent that day, tending to your people’s wounds. If you had looked like you were about to faint from worrying about their safety, you now looked like you were about to die.
“How can I not be?!” you nearly shriek as he approaches you with that observation. “I’m their captain. I’m supposed to get them out alive. They- Koutoku got transferred ever since the traveler got promoted but I heard he’s sick and unwell and－ argh fuck- oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll be gentler－ and he’s dying, Kazuha, my men are dying.”
Kazuha’s eyes soften at the empathy you carry. You’re not exactly slick; he doesn’t miss the tiny flinch and the flash of regret every time you drive your sword into a person’s chest. Your facade is meant to be a merciless general, who belongs on the battlefield; but that’s not who you really are, is it? It’s who fate forced you to be.
You might have fooled him the first few times, but not every lie can withstand his gaze forever. Especially you, who was still an open book last time he left you.
At the moment, he only bears the truth; people die in war, and there may come a day where your comrades bury your body underground. But he knows you don’t want to hear it. So he spares you, just this once.
He has no words of comfort, but he supposes his presence may calm you enough.
It does, and you’re able to patch up the wound on the soldier’s knee as the medic finishes up their end of the job. You ask them thrice if they need any further assistance, and maybe your plan backfired, because the soldier assures you he’s fine, despite Kazuha noting he was not completely so.
You take his hand as you haul yourself up. With a sharp inhale, you look away from him, but even he can see the pure, raw anger in your eyes.
“I am going to kill whoever did this.”
───────────────
It doesn’t take long, really; the traveler manages to recognize a delusion from their travels in Liyue, and before Sangonomiya could blink, they had stormed their way into the Fatui’s hideout and made an absolutely shitshow of destroying the base and slaying its men.
The traveler had wiped the place clean, and Kazuha reminds himself to never get on their bad side.
On the way out, however, they also discovered a certain letter, stating very clearly about their infiltration and their involvement with the Fatui.
After catching wind of being revealed, Nathan tries to flee; but not even a Fatuus can escape your wrath, and your fast orders soon have him trapped with circles of your men stationed nearby.
Kazuha remembers his heart breaking when he saw your concealed face as your men escorted him back to camp. Not many knew about your friendship with Nathan, and those who did didn’t blame you (… not in front of your faces, at least.) But you must be blaming yourself over and over.
Kazuha will not allow that.
When he finds you, though, you seem to be better than expected.
Of course, your face looked like you wanted to tear yourself apart ten times over. But something tells him that you refused to feed on that guilt, and refused to fall into the dark pit of self-loathing.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
You smile. “Yes, it was. I leaked information and weaknesses that tore the resistance apart.”
You’re not crying. You’re not babbling nonsense, you’re not throwing a tantrum.
Your smile drops. “I will fix this in any way possible. I’ll report myself to Her Excellency, and she’ll issue any punishment she deems fit.”
“You’re giving justice to those who wish only to point fingers.” Kazuha reminds.
“It’s well-deserved, man.” you insist. “If not for them, then for my soul.”
Because your eccentric need to bring justice burns bright, even at the worst of times. That passion is raw, it’s powerful in its purest form. It’s not good, it’s not bad; just a simple desire that branched out to other aspirations.
Kazuha’s not sure if such justice is needed, but you seem to be sure. There is no right or wrong in this scenario.
Through many, many days of protesting and begging, Sangonomiya asks you to clean the camps when its soldiers are on the front lines. It’s extra work reserved for new recruits, but you take it with stride and a happy smile.
Kazuha finds himself falling harder than before. Down, down, down into the clutches of your stupidity and selflessness－ and into your warm hands.
───────────────
As the months go by, so do its seasons.
Kazuha is change; he’s the embodiment of change that people embrace and endure as years go by. He accompanied traveler after traveler during their hardships and happiness. He’s seen them grow, to change, to have a purpose.
One doesn’t exactly remember how they change. They could change a million times in all shapes and forms, and not notice at all. But others do. Their parents, their friends, their lovers, those who care for them watch their every moment, experience their every change.
Kazuha’s sure he’s changing at every waking moment. His baby face is gone, his eyes are sharper, his hair is longer. And he’s sure the woman he’s talking to notices it all－ because when he talks with you, he’s not talking to a little girl. He’s talking to a spirited soul, who sees in a different lens than ten years ago.
Like the weather, everything is constantly changing; and sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s hard.
“We’re going to sneak into Tenshukaku with a select few.” General Gorou announces, when tension is high and demands for a conclusion to this war is at its peak. “Sangonomiya will set up further instructions for the remaining soldiers.”
Lord Kamisato has helped Kazuha a thousand times before. He has always prevented his arrest, and helped him in his escape from the Vision Hunt Decree. Kazuha is sure he owes him a mountain of debt. To this day, why Lord Kamisato decided to aid him remains a mystery.
And the Yashiro Commision is set to help him once more. It’s an unspoken agreement that it was the neutral party that extended a helping hand.
Had Kazuha not been bound to nature as his home, he would’ve been very easily swayed to serve under the Kamisato Clan.
You and Kazuha were one of the select few, and as you walk into Tenshukaku, a sense of dread starts to dawn on you.
“We’re challenging a god.” you repeat as you mount the flight of stairs.
It’s not yourself you’re worried about, and he knows this. You know you are capable of surviving an escape from the Tenryou Commission, and so is he. But the soldiers that you lead－ as much as you would love to praise your men, they aren’t as stealthy, as brute as you.
“Yes, we are.” Kazuha heaves.
For a moment, you are silent, and Kazuha wonders if his honesty scared you. But you smile.
In a cruel, twisted way, this was another chance for you both to confront the very god that you ran away from all those years ago.
“Hm. Kazuha, can I recite a something?”
That was not what he was expecting. “At a time like this?” he huffs out of breath, amused and terrified.
“I’ve been thinking about it for quite a while.” you shrug. “Now or never, right?”
A laugh escapes him. “I suppose so.”
How eccentric.
How lovable.
“O boy of wind－”
Looking at a distant figure, Kazuha braces for a fight. Haven’t all soldiers been defeated by Kujou Sara?
But good heavens, literally, because it was the traveler. They look sickly pale, with hisses of ember and dashes of ice latched onto their skin and clothes. Their floating companion worries as she flies around them to check for major injuries.
As they approach closer, a flash of relief fills their face, and a smile blooms on yours.
If the traveler is safe, then they need not worry.
But that thought only lasts for a second, because through the thundering clouds and the gates of Tenshukaku, a bright slash of purple pries through time and space.
Therein lies the Raiden Shogun, and shivers force their way into Kazuha’s calm composure. Her merciless eyes shine with vibrant crackles of electricity powering her blade.
Anyone would die at the hand of it－ it has torn through mountains and stopped time itself. It is believed to be the ultimate symbol of power, a showcase of the power that the Shogun radiates.
This was the Muso No Hitotachi that ended Tomo’s life.
And now, the traveler across all galaxies is about to experience it.
The traveler is the face of the rebellion; their efforts were unexpected, but not unwelcome. They have scaled mountains and seas of Teyvat, and their tales have stretched far and wide. They defeated dragons and gods. They have become a symbol of peace, a bright flame under the cold statue of a god.
To kill them, what would be left of the resistance? Who else would be so daring to parry the Raiden Shogun then? What else would they do, but suffer?
“There will always be those who dare to brave the lighting’s glow.”
He cannot have that.
He will not allow that.
Should no one believe in Tomo’s sacrifice, Kazuha will be the one to follow his path.
Someone will take a stand－ right here, right now.
In a whirl of desperation, his feet push him forward, a blade firm in hand; his fingertips feel electrified, a sense of a long-lost ambition takes flight with the wind that carries him.
A furious light crackles from the impact, and a large gust of warm wind comes after. It nearly knocks him back, but he presses on.
The Raiden Shogun before him narrows and darts her eyes, but her gaze screams arrogance. As if she cannot comprehend mortals not being sliced into ashes at her mercy.
A grunt makes him spare a glance at his left－ and his heart drops. You have also spurred into action, and though your vision remains dull, the passion in your heart burns.
“If I die, there will be another who steps up in my place.”
Push her blade, show her the strength and true ambition of which the gods have favored!
Two cry out as Kazuha carries all his strength into one final slice. Pyro crackles and the overload makes the Shogun recoil; a trail of maple leaves and wind follows after, painting it a flash of pink.
A few sense of surprise floods his chest. How has electro come into play? Could it be－ ?
No way, surely not?
He glances down at the glowing electro vision, and his jaw goes slack. The vision he longed to reignite during his entire voyage, is glowing because of him?
No, not him.
Because of the ambition that he and Tomo share. The burning ambition to parry the Shogun’s blade.
The loss of his attention was his mistake, because the Shogun sends both of you flying with just two, short flicks of her spear.
Gorou rushes to Kazuha’s side, and your cursing voice is more than enough to assure him that you haven’t fainted from a concussion.
Gorou screams a command to charge, and the rest of the soldiers climb their way up the stairs with spears in hand.
Kazuha can’t move, and he doubts you can either. Worry is etched all over your face as you yell, your voice hoarse and used; “They’re no match for her!”
Kazuha grits his teeth and closes his eyes, readying the staircase to be painted with blood－
Only for the traveler to leap into the air, a powerful beam of electro emerging from their sword.
The Shogun closes her eyes, and reality collapses; a gateway to her realm trapping them as they fall in head first.
You can only let out a tired wheeze, and turn to Kazuha with an exasperated smile. There is nothing to smile about in this situation; but somehow, Kazuha has the urge to do the same.
“Heed my love.” you murmur, crawling towards the dying vision.
You grin at him, even brighter, if possible. It looks quite deranged, but Kazuha supposes he looks the same.
“Take it with you－”
Kazuha is tentative in his advances, because surely, you couldn’t have picked a more inappropriate place to confess?
But you only lean in further and whisper.
“On your voyage of stars.”
The first kiss is delicate and chaste, with a brief brush of your lips against his－ yours is bloody and his is probably chapped, but if feels perfect, he feels at peace.
“Come on!” comes Gorou’s unamused groan, but it is overlapped with slight chuckles of your comrades.
You pull away, and you are far less flustered than he is.
Perhaps both of you will get to share more and more kisses in the future, if change allows it.
And if so, change isn’t such a bad guy. For even as the winds change their course and the seas lap with sunny skies and storms, you have a permanent place in his heart－ eternal and true.
───────────────
Dearest sister,
By the time you are reading this, I will have gone to Tenshukaku to challenge the Shogun to a duel.
I do not have the power to win, and I know I will leave you with a burden to bear. But please understand that I seek not victory, but change－ both the change to be the first mortal to parry the Muso No Hitotachi, and the change of hearts it may bring regardless of the outcome.
Maybe my duel will mean nothing. Maybe it is a fruitless endeavor. But it will put my heart at rest, and that is all I long for in life.
I know you will rush to Tenshukaku, but I cannot guarantee your safety then. There is a box in the attic I prepared for you just in case my little act of rebellion brings you trouble.
Relay these words to Kazuha, word by word; I know of your affection towards her, and though you are not related to me by blood, I consider you brother-in-arms. Take care of her when things head south, or I will come back and skin you alive.
Do not give up hope, for change is to come－ whether in a year, a decade, or a millenia, the Raiden Shogun’s persistence of this unrealistic idea of eternity will not last forever.
Maybe I shall be the first to tell the world that.
Tomo
───────────────
#genshin impact#genshin kazuha#kazuha#kazuha x y/n#kazuha x you#kazuha x reader#kazuha x female reader#long reads#long shot
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words: around 1k
fandom: genshin impact/原神
pairing: (hinted) shikanoin heizou x gn!reader
warnings: no beta we die like tEPPEI
summary: you pay the consequences of underestimating heizou’s stubbornness.
a/n: how we all doing!! im just exploring golden apple archipelago and i can definitely see why everyone wanted it to come back. its really BIGGG and a lot of quests! i especially loved fischl’s play and the ravens, what a performance~ also the treasure hunting quest, it was so adventurous, and mona’s tower is SOSOSOSO pretty i took a bajillion pictures. i hope everyone else is enjoying this summer as much as i am! relax, have fun and enjoy it while it lasts~
Honestly, the trip to Seirai Island would’ve been much smoother if a certain crow wasn’t crying like hell by your side.
You will never, ever admit this, but you don’t exactly know how to drive a waverider. Usually, you would let your master show you the way, but he’s being occupied by some business with the Tenryou Commision. No form of communication was available without the police finding out, so you both had to stay out of touch for now.
That being said, you could always ask the traveler for help－ it was them that introduced you to such a mechanism, after all. But they’ve got enough on their plate, returning from the Chasm and all that. Plus, they’re planning to go to Sumeru next, and as much as you’d love to go with them, your duty binds you to this archipelago.
You swore it, after all. To die on the same soil that you were given birth into, is one of the many, many oaths you had to swear before being passed on your father’s handguard.
Sometimes, you wonder what it would be like－ to travel vast seas and let the world become your home. But you would have to be frail to the point of settling down by then, in order to give up your current life. It was either that, or death.
You shake your sentimental thoughts away. Inazuma is plenty big.
The clouds turn from its thundery grey into a vast purple.
You’re not completely aware of the history of Seirai, but from the traveler’s letters, it seemed like a Thunder Manifestation once struck the land with its storms. It lives on the top of a peak, or, at least, its phantom. You have no intention of fighting it. Though the traveler is amazing and exceeds at every turn, they too found the manifestation to be annoying and time-consuming.
If the legendary traveler who split waves to cross Inazuma (maybe this was an exaggeration, but you learned the stories from Teppei, so) found an opponent to be annoying, how would you find it? You don’t want to find out.
The traveler also dealt with the Electro Thunderstorm in both Tataratsuna and on Seirai Island. Bless them. It seemed like they were erasing the burdens the gods from years ago laid. What next, were they going to remove the thunderstorm on Yashiori Island?
You did end up staying at the House with a Wisteria Crest, welcomed by a group of enthusiastic women who were saved from the clutches of a demon by ‘a man who looked just like you, dear, are you his relative?’, your stomach sank but you said nothing.
Maybe the stay was what angered the crow to annoy the hell out of you during this trip.
No, not a maybe. It’s a definite reason.
“CAW! CAW!”
“Oh Archons above, shut the fuck up already!”
You never liked your crow. You always hesitate in receiving orders from a person who shouldn’t have authority at all.
“We are nearing Seirai Island! Prepare yourselves, for danger looms! Caw!”
You glance at the unnatural landscape. Even from a distance, you see groups of Kairagis and Fatui walking in their own circle. “Yeah, totally didn’t notice that, thanks for the heads-up.” You roll your eyes.
The traveler never mentioned anything about a shrine… was it irrelevant? It seemed like it was, compared to a ruin deep below simmering waters and ‘annoying as hell primarily-colored barriers’. You couldn’t see how the shrine would survive in such hazardous circumstances; hell, you don’t even know if there are any actual residents here－ whether by its nature or by demons.
Right, demons.
“Do you have any more information on this supposedly attacked shrine?” You ask the crow.
It ignores your question with a loud shriek, and you have the thought to choke the bird again.
Yes, you had a very bad temper, but it’s a miracle anyone wouldn’t be living such a life. Perhaps it’s because you’re too young and still have that youthful passion or whatever, but you’d rather burn yourself alive than stay tired and dry.
… Huh. Maybe that was the Pyro vision’s origins.
Anyway, your vision has saved you on numerous occasions, so you have that to thank. Your rebellious streak would have caused you to die ten times over before your slayer path could even begin had it not existed.
The waverider pulls to a slow stop, with the casual waves of the ocean rocking it back and forth towards land.
You glide off the wind current the waverider provides you, and you glance at the sky. The crow is gone again, meaning that your destination is probably not far-off. You probably won’t see it again until your mission is complete.
… Could the maidens guarding the shrine possibly wait for a week or two?
You slap yourself. Hold yourself together. You’re here to save, not to get rid of that pesky bird.
Surprisingly, despite the threatening vast purple cloud that looms over the crackling sky, you don’t see thunder tailing your ass every five seconds. You’re not complaining, of course. This makes exploration much more convenient than Yashiori Island.
“Hey.”
“Jesus f-”
You brandish your sword with a wave. God, you’re really not on your A game today－
What the hell?
“Shikanoin?”
At your confusion, the detective chuckles. That irriating, stupid chuckle that makes you want to sock him in the face.
“Wha- but how?” You fumble.
“Hm? Did I make you speechless?” Shikanoin grins from ear to ear. “Well, there are some things in this world that should remain a secret－”
“You got a waverider here, didn’t you.”
It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. Otherwise, how would he have come here? By riding a magical dragon? Please.
Shikanoin shrugs. “Would you believe me if I said I swam my way over?”
“Impossible.” You scoff. “Not with that little body.”
“The smallest are always the most cunning. They will do everything to reach the top.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re a rat, then? Gonna rat me out to the officials?”
Shikanoin feigned thinking about it. “Hmmm, no. How about I let your bird do all the talking?”
He grabs a rattling cage from behind and－ your heart drops as you see your crow going haywire in it.
As much as you find the crow a pain in the ass, it’s your messenger, the loudness to fill in quiet nights.
Nights without flare, knowing at least one person slipped from your grasp and being victims of the demons, can be quite easy to succumb to without the crow’s annoying jabs.
Plus, while you could replace a crow, you’ve gotten quite attached to yours－ even if you remember it as annoying and loud, the crow reflects your own personality－ hence you’re also annoying and loud, in other aspects.
“CAW! Absurd! How dare you capture me?!”
Pyro flickers on your fists, but you calm yourself. “What do you want?”
“I want to join your journey.” Shikanoin replies, without elaborating further.
You have half the mind to just steal it from him, but while Shikanoin isn’t a samurai, he can put up a fight. You will never let yourself live it down if your irrationality injured your crow.
“Argh, you little s－ fine.” You bite out, a hand gesturing Shikanoin to hand it over, but he merely smiles and waves his index finger.
“Nope, I’m keeping this.”
As if you would let him go the second you get back your crow. He’s going to get himself killed if he continues running around like a headless chicken.
“If you want to get killed so badly, I suppose I can’t stop you.” You roll your eyes.
“I won’t die.” Shikanoin smirks. “I have you after all－ my knight in shining armor~”
You whirl around and shoot a glare. This is why you prefer solo missions..“If you keep joking like that I’ll become the dragon that traps you in a tower.”
“Feisty.”
You ignore his comment and begin to walk.
Honestly, walking around with Shikanoin is just as annoying and you’d expect－ only this time, he isn’t a crow that fumes at your retorts. It’s you that keeps ending the jabs with a huff.
You’re an introvert, through and through－ just one of those extreme kinds where everything is a nuisance to you.
And yet, you can’t bear to see the world crumble because of your ignorance, so you push on.
“Sooo, where’re you from?”
“Inazuma City.”
“Your parents?”
“Doesn’t concern you.”
“Your occupation?”
“… Really?”
“Archons, you’re so boring to talk to.”
“I’m sorry, did I ask for you to, oh great and noble one?”
Shikanoin pouts, and you find it strangely suiting the brat. “We’re partners now. Speaking of, I don’t even know your name!”
“Again, none of your business.” You snort, your eyes still scanning the area. “It said there was a shrine… what’s that all about?”
At this, Shikanoin perks up. “Shrine? You mean the Asase Shrine?”
“… Yes. It refused to elaborate.”
“Hm? How can a shrine survive in such a deserted environment?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone’s been here for years. Except for the traveler, of course.”
Shikanoin squints his eyes, and points. “There’s a Statue of the Seven… we can probably get a wider view up there.”
“… Doesn’t having a Statue of the Seven usually mean it is a sign of having a god’s protection?”
You both share a look. “Probably not. Not with this… mess.”
“Then why…?”
“A sign of sympathy? Or was it originally there, and the storm had appeared only after?”
Thinking about it, you snort. Yeah, right. Sympathy your ass. The Raiden Shogun, preserver of eternity and killed those who defied against her, sympathizing with a product of another god’s death? The two can’t possibly be linked.
Be careful.
There is life everywhere. You don’t wield some super ability to be one with nature－ but you don’t remember when this voice has ever crept into your head.
It has never once harmed you, and aided you on many occasions, especially during the final selection, so you trust it, more than yourself… even though you’re sure relying on this voice too much will one day be your downfall.
Your senses sharpen at the sudden thought. “Be on your guard, detective.” You remind.
Shikanoin was silent, and you turned around to face him. His face has dropped its playful grin. Hmm, good. At least even people like him takes things seriously.
Something is circling this area.
But what?
#demon slayer#genshin impact#kny x reader#kny x y/n#kny x you#gender neutral reader#heizou x reader#heizou x y/n#genshin heizou#heizou x you
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have a kaeya while I'm speedrunning the next chapter lol
#genshin kaeya#kaeya ragnvindr#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin klee#genshin impact fanart#kaeya fanart
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For context, please read part 1.
words: around 1k
fandom: genshin impact/原神
pairing: (hinted) shikanoin heizou x gn!reader
warnings: STILL VERY MESSY LMAO
summary: after being caught, you and heizou have a little chat.
a/n: i’m just going with the flow here, this is unbeta-ed and ehhhh, am i going to continue this? maybe, maybe not, also kazuhas mirage was WOW, my hands are shaking from such a long domain,, not complaining tho－ speaking of kazuha i might write a drunk kazuha oneshot because HE WAS SO ADORABLE, are yall up for it?
side note i finally beat floor ten yesterday, tysm kazuha for the carry－ but it immediately refreshed today lmao rip me :“D
You both slip away from the curious eyes of the villagers, just as the sun begins to peak out from the mountains of Yashiori. Honestly, your heart is pounding－ the man saw and heard for his own two eyes, you doubt he’s pulling you aside for a nice little chat.
Despite all that, you are stronger than him. You know this. You have yet to place your sword back in your sheath. You’re sure this is a good enough warning for him.
“Are you going to take me in for interrogation?” you ask.
Shikanoin only smiles. It looks pretty infuriating on him. “I dunno. Am I?”
Shikanoin Heizou, famous detective of the Tenryou Commision. Rejecting countless offers of higher positions just to run around and apprehend criminals all day.
That’s as much intel as you’ve gotten so far. But is it intel when it comes from biased hatred? Sango seemed pretty pissed at the kid.
You snicker. “How is anyone going to believe you?”
“In a world where gods exist, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone spun a tale about demons’ contagious energy coming from miasmas.” Shikanoin retorts.
“Demons have been mistaken for the unfortunate inflicted by Tatarigami. What makes this so different?”
“I could go back to bring the body and let the healers check.”
He’s bluffing so hard, but he looks so confident it nearly looks true.
“Purged demons’ bodies are disintegrated into thin air.” You laugh.
Shikanoin’s eyebrows furrow. You silently cheer at the achievement of stumping the oh-so great detective.
“I think we both know you could never prove demons’ existence,” you say, a hint of a threat lying beneath your mocking, carefree tone. “You just have to know you’re not insane. Goodbye, Detective.”
But as you step away from him, a gust of wind rings dangerously loud in your ear. You glance back at the glowing Anemo vision.
This little shit wants to mess with you? He’s lucky you don’t have an Anemo vision, else you’d have blown his ass away back to Narukami already.
“I’m not here to prove anything.” Shikanoin cuts through the howls. He’s carrying a catalyst, but he isn’t even using it.
“What do you want, then? Money?” you roll your eyes. Being a slayer pays well, but you’re not one for riches. You doubt Shikanoin is, either.
“An explanation.” Shikanoin replies, a hint of a smile back in his voice. “You’re from another world, where demons roam free, yes? It never hurts to learn more.”
You call bullshit. “Why would you need to?”
Shikanoin tsks. “Learning for the sake of learning is a very valuable life lesson. Surely you’d understand, being a slayer and all?”
You calm yourself, despite every fiber of your short-tempered being urging you to punch the daylights out of him. “And why should I?”
“I might not be a high-ranking officer, but I still have a reputation. It’s my words against yours. Who would they believe?”
You bend down in a stance. “How are you so confident I won’t kill you here, right here, right now, to dispose of eye witnesses?”
Shikanoin laughs. “You feel guilty of killing a man-eating monster. What about me, a simple, ignorant, little detective?”
“The guilt I harbor is nothing compared to the importance of keeping my－ and many others’ existence－ a secret.”
But he’s right. You swore to your blade, your family, and your peers that you would never, ever lift a finger against the innocent.
“Oho? So there are more of you?” Shikanoin grins.
“I might be bluffing.” you respond, but Shikanoin’s gaze pierces through your truths and lies. You know this, because his eyes remind you too much of your master.
“Suuuuure.” Shikanoin drawls. “You know, in Liyue there are mystical beings called the Adepti. There’s one in particular, who is rumored to be the Conquerer of Demons. Are you two－”
“No.” You cut him off. “No demon or slayer has ever crossed the sea towards Liyue or Mondstadt.”
At least, you hope so. Maybe a demon with a ice blood demon art could bridge across its humongous gap－
“So, slayers are mortals?”
“Correct.” You reply. “Inazuma is an archipelago. Many demons that were once teleported there, stay there. But…” You clench your blade and shake your head. “Nevermind.”
Shikanoin’s face morphed into worry. Perhaps he’s guessed it－ the fact that some stubborn demons on stranded islands like Tsurumi or Seirai Island are slowly starting to come towards Narukami, Watatsumi and Yashiori, in search for new life.
It has concerned the organization for the longest time. Some believe as long as they keep killing, they will eventually run out. But the problem is there is an influential figure that has Muzan’s blood－ lots of it, in fact.
“For the sake of the people, we stand against the monstrous beasts and fight with our lives.” You conclude. “Happy?”
“Dramatic! But no.” Shikanoin says with his concentrated expression, and you groan.
“Listen, I’m just a lowly swordswoman. I’m just like that Kaedehara guy. A person who wanders the world and defends those with my blade. Treat me like a fugitive, if you will.”
Shikanoin smirks. “You’re really behind the times. Kaedehara has long since been lifted of his criminal charges. In fact, he’s the talk of the town.”
“But I thought it mostly circulated around rumors?”
“Not really.” Shikanoin shrugs. “Before General Gorou of the Watatsumi successfully committed tax evasion－”
“He what－”
“I asked him whether Kaedehara truly did parry the Musou No Hitotachi, and he said he witnessed it with his own two eyes.” His eyes grew solemn. “Apparently, it was with the help of a vision of a late friend.”
A late friend. You hope there comes a day where it is not a common occurrence.
A wanderer who has the mighty strength to parry the will of a god. What ambition does he carry to deflect one?
The distant cry of a bird awakes you.
“Listen, you have your own work to do, and I have mine.” you say, placing your blade back in your sheath. “I’ll have a crow come yelling at me to do my job any minute now. You should probably go back to your station, or whatever.”
Shikanoin huffs. “Take me with you, then.”
You snort. “Very funny.”
One look at his face suggests that it’s not.
“You’re serious?” you ask in bewilderment.
“What? I have nothing to do these days.” Shikanoin shrugs. He walks around you in circles, a shadow of a smile at play. “Whatever technique you’re using, plus the power of the gods－ it makes you nesr invincible in the eyes of others, no? What kind of idiot would I be, if I didn’t learn it?”
Learn it? Learn it? How does one learn the pain and suffering demons bring? What kind of idiot would want to learn the skills that stem from hurt and emotional turmoil?
“You don’t understand what’s at stake here,” you hiss, the memories of the trials, the pain and suffering you’ve gone through, anger of such ignorance pulsing through your veins and straining your voice with unsung sorrow. “You can’t get attached to anyone there. All your acquaintances, your friends, the ones you save, they can be gone in an instant.
“It’s nothing different to the battle that happened five hundred years ago. There are no chests to be found, no scenery to enjoy. You keep searching, slaying until there is one so powerful even you can’t defeat, and eventually die at their hands.”
You withdraw your emotions with a slight huff. “So please, do not even think about leaving whatever you have. This path is for those with an only motive to save. We kill those who defy us. We don’t put them in jail cells or judge their sins. Those with courage and understanding take this path.”
Your eyes darken. “Once you take it, you can never go back.”
“CAW!”
A crow’s cry alerts you, and you extend your arm. The crow’s feet grip on your arm with ease, and it cries out.
“Southeast! South-Southeast! Hop on a waverider to Seirai Island!”
Seirai Island? But there’s barely any civilization there… “What’s the situation there?” you ask, and the crow lets out its obnoxious cry.
“Demons are circling the Asase Shrine! Caw! Head over there quickly! Or I’ll peck your eyes out!”
“… That’s one feisty bird.” Shikanoin comments from his deep thoughts.
“Shut it, brat! Caw!”
You hum. “There is a House with a Wisteria Crest near Jakotsu Mine… maybe I could rest for a night there.”
“No! Head over there immediately! Immediately! Caw!”
You choke the bird. “You shut up!” you bark. “I spent a day and a half tracking down the demon terrorizing Konda Village, do you know how exhausted I am?”
The crow lets out a warbled cry, and you let it go. It speeds up to a height where you cannot reach, and hovers around you in circles.
“Southeast! South-Southeast! Caw!”
You grumble and turn to Shikanoin. “Listen, we might be the same age, but some work is best left for people like me－ homeless, and having nothing to lose. Go ahead and continue apprehending criminals or whatever.”
You turn away and begin walking. “Or maybe help that poor kid named Chouji. He’s near Jakotsu Mine, too, but his mother went to Sumeru. If you can’t find him, head to Narukami. Unlike me, he actually has a dream to travel the world.”
Maybe you could even bluff and scare him a little bit.
“And if I catch wind of a single thing related to this incident－ you will be branded as a danger to the organization, and I will have no reason not to get rid of you. Farewell.”
Before Shikanoin can reply, you speed away, with your crow tailing behind you－ riding the wind towards danger.
yuh
part 3~
#demon slayer#genshin impact#kny x you#gender neutral reader#genshin x you#genshin x reader#heizou x you#heizou x reader#heizou x y/n#genshin heizou
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words: around 1k
fandom: genshin impact/原神
pairing: gn reader x shikanoin heizou
warnings: VERY, VERY MESSY. IM VERY SERIOUS. my writing capabilities are ✨gone✨, but i can't be bothered to fix it anymore ahahhsw
summary: you’re a demon slayer, destined to part from your old world. but under unfortunate circumstances, a certain detective catches you in the act, demanding answers.
a/n: guess who my new favorite iSSSSSSS (im just kidding, itto is still my inazuman favorite) anyway, i’ve wanted to write this for the longest time, but i have finals rn and this… was the product. i might continue this(?) if you all want some, but i doubt it lmao
fun fact: this isn’t the first time i’ve written a genshin fanfic (tho it’s my first time writing a reader one), i actually wrote a couple of zhongchi oneshots!
side note: i nearly whaled bc i was desperate to get kazuha, but then i pulled heizou and then kazuha came right after making me win the 2nd 50/50 at 64 pity, and 36 wishes later c1 jean came i’m so hAPPY :DDD good luck on your pulls everyone!!! i hope you all get the characters you want, and i can’t wait for summer fanastia
EDIT 1: i wasn’t satisfied with how the plot was rushed, so i changed it up a bit. if you saw this after the edit, the demon originally had a wife but it progressed way too fast lmao
EDIT 2: OH MY GOD DID I NOT SAVE THE CHANGE
EDIT 3: i did not, in fact, save the change :“D i had to write it all over again, so if theres anything weird dont mind it please
In Inazuma, Kairagis, Nobushis, even the wrath of the Almighty Shogun, cannot compare to the horror that lies deep beneath.
Five hundred years ago, when rifthounds ripped open portals with their bloody claws, demons also came stumbling into Inazuman soil. Your ancestors, bruised but still willing to fight, had dashed their way into the portal, mistaking them for the demon’s art.
Their ambitions to slay demons granted them visions, but even as they were stranded in this battling world, they did not falter. They passed on their secret arts to their children, who passed it to their children, and so forth－ until the day when Muzan was purged and the demon population was wiped out, your ancestors refused to give in.
Unfortunately, so neither did demons. Though some of them went rogue, civilians always mistook them as a madman infected by the curse of Tataragami. Others, much more intelligent and corruptive, hid in secluded villages and shadows of the night.
Over centuries, the system that once belonged in the Taisho period slowly rebuilt itself with the help of many kind-hearted souls. Both slayers and demons got accustomed to this mystical world of Teyvat. They weren’t sure if Muzan was here, or any of the Upper Moons, or if Muzan had any contact with them at all, if he was in the other world.
The motive to slay Muzan slowly shifted into slaying demons in general. If Muzan were to be slain, it would be best to save those who might become victims of his subject’s hunger.
You sort of thought this was all bullshit, but something told you this was right, you did belong to another world, had paths not been strayed. It doesn’t matter, though. All that mattered was getting rid of those pesky demons, even if it costed you your life.
Like the one you’re fighting now. You’re loud and lively to a default－ but when on duty, you’re as quiet as the whispers of the wind.
You still don’t really understand how you got a Pyro vision, of all things. Perhaps it’s your short temper that always flares at the slightest inconvenience. You still think Anemo would suit you better.
You need to get rid of this little shit quickly.
“You cannot dream to wound me!” The demon hissed, prancing about as your slashes barely miss their mark. “For I am－”
“I don’t give a goddamn shit of what you once were,” You scoff. “You were a general? Great. Fantastic. You’re a demon now, and it’s my job to slay you.”
“‘Slay’? Tch. Cut the fancy talk. If you wanna kill me, just say so.”
The demon aims its deadly punches towards you, but you defend it easily with your fourth form. “Big talk for a guy who isn’t even an Upper Moon.”
“Fifth form: Flaming Tiger!”
A tiger in form of flames glows with your bright vision, slashing the monstrous face with a roar.
“Argh!” The demon screeches, and you pray no one is nearby to hear it. It’s shrill and is outright disgustingly loud.
“Fuck! How is this fair? You guys were already a nuisance, and now you all have visions!”
You pause. “Oh? So you’re from the old world?”
The demon’s breath hitches, and you grin. “Playtime’s over.”
In an blink of an eye, you dash behind the demon’s back. You force him down onto the ground. You hear bones crack, but this should be nothing for him.
He struggles with the power of a centenarian, but you’re a demon slayer, and you’re going to act like one.
“Interesting…” You mutter, as you feel the shivers of the demon vibrate against you. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from one of you. What can you tell me about the old world?”
The demon continues to struggle, and you sigh, teasing him by pushing the blade further. It’s painted a beautiful red, crafted from only the best swordsmen. Its blade shines under the moonlight, begging to be coated with the red of bloodshed.
It would get the chance. “Never let an enemy go”, your father always reminded.
You hum. “It’s a fair trade, isn’t it? You give me some info, reminisce, and I let you go.”
You feel the saliva that’s spat on your face, but you don’t flinch. The demon scoffs below you.
“As if I’d believe that. You slayers will never, ever let go of their targets, even at the cost of their own lives.”
Now that sounded a little too much like your father, and your eyes narrow.
No way.
“Were you, by a chance, a slayer?”
The demon says nothing, but the remorse and regret that coats his eyes a misty red tells as much. A horrible, sinking feeling pools deep in your gut.
Suddenly, he feels too human, too alive.
In your emotional turmoil, you move forward, pressing your blade further so it scratches the skin. A line of blood flows out, and the demon finally lets a peak of fear overwhelm him.
“I- it’s a place without gods or ghosts and shit!” The demon spews out despite your surprise, “I- I could’ve integrated into human society if it weren’t for you all, a- and technology was much more advanced then－”
“Cut the crap. Same wimp, same responses.” You tut, masking the surprise with a scowl. You would make fun of him if it wasn’t a reoccurring sight.
To be honest, you’re not sure if you wouldn’t drop everything for the sake of your own life.
“Say ‘Muzan’.”
For a moment, there is silence. The dread the demon feels is almost contagious; you almost feel your own heart beat widely because of it.
The demon flailed around. “No! No! I refuse－”
“Would you rather die at your master’s hands, a dutiful and loyal servant, or die at the hands of a crybaby?”
“Damn you, you witch－”
Someone’s here.
The wind tells you such. It isn’t a slayer, or a demon. It’s a normal civilian.
Well. Time to put this conversation to a rest.
You slice the demon’s head off with one, clean strike, pick it up and begin racing off.
Shit, you knew it was a bad idea to fight near Konda Village!
Concentrate. Let the wind take over your feet.
Total concentration breathing (or something along the lines, you couldn’t have bothered to remember) works well for situations like these.
Cradled between your arms, the demon recovers from his shock and begins to scream. At least it doesn’t seem to regenerate.
You race through forests and hillsides. It is until you are near the beaches just near Konda Village that you put the head down on the sandy coastline.
The waves gentle pushes the head.
You kneel before its disintegrating figure. He has a rather strong soul; though in the face of eternal hell, he refuses to curse or submit into his tears.
Unfortunately, it will get him almost nowhere.
Fuck. Masking sympathy was never your strong suit.
“You were once human too, were you not?” You ask.
“Big surprise.” The demon scoffs.
You furrow your eyebrows.
Every being deserves some form of closure. Sometimes, it was your personal job to make sure for them to depart from this world with certainty, and without doubt.
“You lived to save, to slay demons once. What happened?” You pressed on.
The demon pauses. “I… I don’t remember.”
You sigh. “It’s okay.”
(They hardly ever do. The lucky ones remember, just before the brink of death.)
A man that lived years beyond the war of Khaenri’ah, and continued to be fearful of the sun for many, many moons.
“You suffered for a long time, haven’t you?” You mutter.
Silence befalls them, for just a while. You hear the ocean’s beckoning.
“I killed people.” The demon reminds, as if it was in disbelief of your gentle approach. You can’t blame him. It was such a large contrast to your near sadistic nature on the battlefield. “I tore their flesh and threw away their bones. I－ I couldn’t control it.”
“I know.” You sigh. “And I will never forgive you for that. But still… it still have had to hurt.”
You can’t imagine the pain some of the demons went through. Damn it, the cruelty of your blade and the pity of your words were so different. You wish you could just stick to one side.
It almost always gave you backlash during the first few times you slayed someone. The difference when they’re still alive and running and when they’re dying is outright frightening. Then again, their memories never truly return to them until they are at the brink of death, do they?
You’re far too flexible. Even the most evil people give you a sense of hope of their redemption, and long as they’re nice.
You really need to change that mentality.
“What’s your name?” You ask. It’s common courtesy for you, and you only.
(It’s a blatant excuse, but you ignore the truth.)
“My name…? Sato. Akira Sato. That’s right… I was named after my mother’s wisdom.”
You snort despite yourself. Wisdom? Bullshit. “Sorry.”
The demon didn’t react to it. “Hm. I never wanted to fight. It was… just part of the family. I wanted…”
The demon trails off, and his eyes shift away. “I don’t deserve to want.”
“No, you don’t.” You agree.
“Do you think… there is peace, in hell?”
You shrug. “Maybe.”
Sato laughs, as his face disintegrates until his mouth remains. It’s hoarse and small and vulnerable, and you hate it.
“Hm.” You murmer. You’re not sure whether to give him false hope or not. “May you condemn for your sins in hell, Mr. Sato.”
“Heh.” Sato chuckles, as only his mouth remains. “I wonder if I will be back to my old world, or drown in the Abyss…?”
It pains you, to see a person converted be ruined a chance of another life. Your fist clenched at the hatred you harbor for Muzan. “Rest assured, Mr. Sato. Muzan will join you soon.”
“That’s not really an assurance.” Sato mutters. “But thank you. …Ah, I couldn’t see the sunrise with her… What a shame… heh…”
The last bit of Sato fades into the first rays of dawn, and you stand up.
Akira Sato… you’re not sure if records surviving of him still exist, but you still have time to set up a grave for him.
You have always made graves for those you slayed. There are no bodies or cremated ashes to bury, but your memory will always linger. And that, in a way, is a sort of eternity that the Shogun wishes to pursuit, is it not?
You sigh, but your voice sharpens. “Show yourself. I know you’ve been watching.”
The bushes refuse to make a sound, and you have to give credit for the eavesdropper. “Really?” You snap.
A slow, amused chuckle comes from the man emerging from the bushes. You recognize it almost immediately. You’ve heard it during the capture of criminals, when you were still sneaking in and out in the middle of the night.
“Most people here are really dense. Just one look and they erase their suspicions. But I suppose you are an exception?”
You grin despite the panic. You’ve never been caught before. “I could say the same for you, Detective Shikanoin.”
The man’s smile is friendly, but his gaze is sharp and demands answers. The sun is rising already, and killing an innocent witness would be both heavily against your morals and a hassel.
He crosses his arms. “Let’s take this discussion somewhere else, shall we?”
thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed this mess lol
Part 2 :D
#demon slayer#genshin impact#genshin x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin heizou#heizou x y/n#heizou x reader#heizou x you
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words: 1k
pairing: kocho shinobu x female!reader
warnings: ❗TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, manipulation, all in all not a really good time❗
synopsis: you love chanting her name. in some way, deep down, she loves it when you do.
a/n: i don’t really get why people like writing angst like this, so i decided to give it a shot, and it’s the first time i’ve ever delved into these type of stuff so be genTLE PLEASE
a/n: is this beta-read? hell no, #yolo dies from cringe at myself i downed an unhealthy amount of coffee at ass o’clock because i couldn’t get this out of my head and speedran this in 5 minutes, so ignore any plot holes and don’t expect too much while reading this
The moon is rather dull tonight.
Shinobu can’t really tell; her eyes are on you and only you. Your swaying figure is more than enough to completely enamor her.
“Shinobu-chan~” You giggle, drawing mindless circles around her palm. “You’re so beautiful.”
She’s heard that almost daily, and it came through many forms; from shy compliments to heated moans, to the fragile vulnerability you expose in the darkness of your sheets.
“Mhm.” Shinobu responds, pressing a kiss on your forehead. Her touches are always so light, akin to a little butterfly on a peaceful spring’s morning.
“Shinobu-chan, Shinobu-chan…”
Should she have offered her name to you? It feels like every sentence of yours always has her name in it. It’s spoken so casually, yet with so much adoration.
If she could go back to the day where you brightly gave your name to hers, under the cherry blossoms of a graveyard lined with fallen comrades, would she have turned around and flashed a smile she knows you’re so hopelessly attached to?
“Drink this, dear.” She says, and you obey. You drink the glass with purple liquid filled to the brim.
You’ve been drinking this for quite a while now.
“Shinobu-chan, your hair is so pretty…” You gently grab a small strand of her faded hair, twirling it and playing it with your fingers. You have played with her too much; you’ve played with her mind, heart and soul. The gentleness that radiates off you shakes her to the very core.
“Shinobu-chan, where did you get those hair clips? So cute…” You mutter, a dopey smile etched on your lips.
“My sister and I shared a pair.” A curt response sends the room into a lonely silence.
You pout, tears already starting to swirl in your eyes. Shinobu thinks she’s struck a nerve. She knows too well by now that it’s sympathy, rather than annoyance.
If she could turn back time, would she have told the tale of her sister’s death? Would she have told you her anger that bubbles inside of her, knowing she’s done praying and seeking karma for aid?
“Shinobu-chan, Shinobu chan…” You sigh, shamelessly slipping your face onto her chest. “Why is life so cruel to you?”
“Was cruel, dear.” She corrects, amused by your antics. “I have you, after all.”
You giggle, and even though it’s muffled, it plays with her heart with ease. Every sound that escapes your lips flips her stomach and sends her mind into a frenzy.
“Shinobu-chan, you’re amazing~!”
“Am I, now?” Shinobu smiles. Her arms naturally find their way to your body, wrapping your waist and, maybe, hopefully, shielding you from the world.
“Yes, Shinobu-chan!” You laugh, such a bright, gorgeous sound.
“Hmm.” She hums, with her hand running against your back in a soothing manner. “Can you close your eyes?”
You lift your head up to meet her pretty eyes, swirling with an emotion she knows you’re too ditzy to comprehend. You only comply, because she knows she’s your world, your goddess, and you would have no purpose in life should you not take her orders.
You stare back, your eyes red and misty. Your eyes droop slightly, and Shinobu feels her heart clench at the sight.
Because of adoration? No, no.
She never loved you at all. She knows this.
Has she?
Every mission she takes is treated with care, after all. How could she ever even like someone like you? Someone who is associated with the likes of Muzan?
You’re her puppet. An empty shell of a person who once had potential, a bright future that Shinobu was supposed to protect－
－ Had you not turned your back so many years ago.
You let out a small yawn, sagging in her hold.
Close them, She muses. The wisteria-poisoned drink burns into her skin. Close them, and be free of the life you’ve been given. May your sins be redeemed in hell.
“You must think of me as an idiot, Shinobu-chan.”
You don’t sound drowsy at all.
Shinobu’s eyes snap wide open. A thrill of fear pulses through her body in an instant.
She unsheathes her blade, swinging faster than a non swordsman can see, and you dodge it with a laugh.
The laugh is taunting, and her veins burn with anger.
“I must say, using your opponent for so long, just for a meager chance to hurt me, using wisteria posion no less－ quite pathetic, no?”
You looked much more refined, holding an air of superiority Shinobu knows you don’t deserve. The gentle breeze that follows from the open window sways your hair; distracting her.
Enamoring her.
“Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?” Shinobu asks, curiosity getting the better of her.
Your smile doesn’t falter, but the smallest bit of hesitance flashes in your eyes.
The eyes that she’s grown to like, always filled with adoration.
The very eyes that now fade into a glowing, piercing gaze, with Kanji written over them.
Upper Moon 0.
“I never asked to be Muzan’s daughter.”
You don’t explode, a forbidden curse doesn’t befall before you. You looked calm, even in the face of defying your very own father.
Maybe this was just how much he favored you, above anyone else.
Even above his last wife－ your mother, who you loved with your entire being, driven to insanity and suicide.
“I can swear I never killed or ate a human being, if that’s what you’re scared about.” You say.
Muzan’s blood has always kept you right at bay. Barely, but enough to conquer the world.
You only wish to return to your mother.
“I can never trust you.” Shinobu replies, with an air of disgust.
You shrug. “I don’t need your trust, Shinobu-chan.”
You’re gone in a blink of an eye, but Shinobu knows you’re but a door away.
She exits the little shed in a hurry, her hoari flapping behind her; akin to a panicked butterfly, seeking its moments of peace.
Your back is turned to her, but your neck turns around with a smile.
“Shinobu-chan, Shinobu-chan~” You chant her name, playing her heart yet again. “You think you had me. But have I walked into your trap, or have you walked into mine?”
Shinobu’s clutch on her katana tightens, and she charges at you, the tip of her blade promising an agonizing death with poison.
“Until we meet again, Shinobu-chan.”
You speed away, and she gives up on her attack, knowing she can never catch up to you.
She knows that the answer is.
Because she can’t help but think how beautiful you look under the moon’s rays.
Maybe the moon wasn’t as dull as she thought.
#kny x reader#demon slayer#kny x y/n#kny x you#kny angst#angst prompt#shinobu kny#kny shinobu#shinobu kimetsu no yaiba#shinobu x reader#shinobu x you#shinobu x y/n#demon slayer x female reader
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words: 1.5k
pairing: kocho shinobu x gn!reader
warnings: ❗MANGA SPOILERS❗, not beta read at all, i apologize in advance
summary: its just talk about the afterlife, nothing really important happens. i tried to keep the reader’s thoughts about it as vague as possible!
a/n: i find myself actually enjoying to write these! they’re pretty self indulgent atm, so please excuse that haha. i did not expect the kyojuro one to do that well! thank you for those who liked, reblogged and commented. i’ll try to get the hang of tumblr soon~
“Have you ever thought about dying?”
Your hands are intertwined with Shinobu’s, and your heart nearly stops at her question. Her tone is so light, so casual, you almost mistaken her for asking what’s for dinner.
“I… I don’t think so? Are you okay, Shinobu?”
(No, not really. But with you, I feel better.)
You were both slayers, but you two certainly don’t look the part. Shinobu’s petite frame screams lack of physical capability.
Nobody would have guessed otherwise, if they didn’t look at your hands. Rough, calloused hands with scars as old as time; they hold swords with an unyielding grip, yet they could also soothe a child’s cry.
They fit the most in Shinobu’s hands, as if they were made to slide into her palm.
Shinobu only laughs. “I’m alright, darling. I’m just asking. What do you think lies beyond life itself?”
You think for a moment. The silence is filled with you trying to snuggle with her, as if you’re trying to become one with her. Maybe then would you see what she was truly like, under that facade.
(I have no facade when with you.)
You take in a deep breath, and sigh at the smell of wisteria. The scent of it grows stronger day by day, and you’re not sure whether to be comforted by it or not.
“… I’m not sure.”
You have a vague idea on what the afterlife is like; you can only hope it’s a warm place, if nothing at all. You’ve never shared this idea with anyone, much less the love of your life.
“Ah~? How disappointing.” The words jab at your heart, and you pout.
“I’d like to focus on the present, thank you. I still have so much to do, so many people to save, so many demons to slay, I can’t afford to be scared of my death. Besides,” You grin, “Why would I think about the afterlife, when I have you here in the present?”
You expect Shinobu to turn her head to hide her blush; that is always how she reacted to sudden flirtatious comments. There are times where she flirts back, not stopping until you’re a spluttering, red mess.
But this time, her smile only mellows into a somber expression. She looks bittersweet, and you wonder whether you’ve crossed a line. The air between you becomes more tense.
“I see.” She decides on saying. She brings your hand up to her cheek, and she leans into the touch. “Why mull over the future when there’s the present?”
(You shouldn’t ever have to worry about me. Be the happiest that you can be right now. That’s what you should do, right?)
Her tone is filled with sorrow, with a burden you didn’t know she was carrying. Your thumb gently runs across her cheek.
“… Shinobu, is there something you want to tell me?”
Shinobu’s facade looks like it’s about to crack, and for a brief moment, you see the fear that flashes across her luminescent eyes.
(Yes. There’s so, so much.)
But she pulls herself back together, a big smile back on her face. “Nothing, dear. I’m just worried about the war we’re about to face.”
Centuries of the Corps rising and falling have come to this moment; the moment when Muzan emerges from his cowardly shadow, and everyone will try to end him, once and for all. Ah, maybe this was what prompted her into asking?
“Just promise me one thing.”
You know how fragile promises can be. They’re a flimsy excuse only bonded between words, yet they are powerful in their own right.
(I know. But I’ll hang onto it like a lifeline, if that’s what it takes.)
You raise an eyebrow, suspicious of her intentions. “It depends.”
“Please.” Shinobu says, and you’re startled at her desperation. “I need to know you’ll swear your life on this.”
You bite your lip.
Shinobu squeezes your hand.
An exasperated smile blooms on your face. “Anything.”
“When the war begins,” Shinobu’s grip on your hand tightens, “Stay somewhere safe.”
Silence falls between you two. Shinobu had yet to acknowledge the clear tension between demons and humans, so why now?
You recoil. “I can’t possibly do that, Shinobu. Not when I know I can help.”
“You can help me by staying far, far away. I’ll rent a hotel for you, you’ll have plenty to eat over the next few days－”
“Shinobu, what kind of question is that?” You let go of her hand to face her properly. “I’m not going anywhere. I know I’m not a pillar like you, but that doesn’t give you the right to order me to stay back.”
(No. Stop. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.)
“You said you’d promise me anything.” Shinobu reminds you. “This isn’t a pillar asking her junior to stay down, this is a lover asking you to be alive. I can’t bear to know that you might die.”
“What about you?” You retort. “You think I’m not worried about you? Just because you’re a pillar doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you dying either. Every mission, I worry and worry and worry, every night I worry, every day I worry, and you’re asking me to be selfish and stay safe while you might get killed?”
(I will get killed. I’m too weak to protect you.)
Shinobu shakes her head. “I love you. That’s why. Please.”
The words come in short, panting breaths, and your heart aches to see her so frazzled.
You nearly cave.
“I’ll see what I can do.” You only say, as Shinobu’s eyes start to gloss over. You press a gentle kiss on her forehead, and leave the engawa.
I’ll see what I can do.
What an empty promise.
Shinobu knew you. You were kind, protective of things you shouldn’t be, and warm all around. She knew she was lucky to even be with you.
(Find her. Find her!)
It was a mistake falling for you.
You were too self-righteous. Almost like Tanjiro, but much less naive. You were going to go try and save her the moment you had the chance.
Which is why she must end this here.
(Where is she?!)
“Oh~? You’re starting to get desperate, Kocho.”
She hated the way her name rolled off his tongue－ teasing. She wants to hear her first name. Preferably from you. It reminded her of quiet nights catching fireflies while you recovered at her estate.
Desperate? She supposed she is. Another woman had been sliced to bits by Douma’s fan, even after she took her far away from his grasp. For just a moment, she imagined it was you; blood pouring from all directions as the wonderful, beautiful life in your eyes gets stolen away.
She doesn’t want to see that. She never wants to see that.
“Perhaps I am.” She says. “I am very ready to slice your head off, after all!”
(Her voice! That’s her voice!)
She knows she doesn’t have the capability to do that, but that’s alright. Poison has and will always be her specialty.
Douma laughs, clapping and smiling in the face of death. Maybe this was the peak of nihilism, in the eyes of a psychopath.
Shinobu has yet to know what your version of the afterlife is; maybe she never will. All she knows is that the afterlife is where her sister is. Where her parents are.
And where she’ll be waiting for you.
Douma’s rainbow colored eyes－ what a disgusting colour－ darkens, and Shinobu barely registers that he’s going to attack.
Ah. Her response was too slow.
Is he going to slice her into pieces? Or is he going to eat her whole?
(SHINOBU!)
Fear overwhelms her to squeeze her eyes shut, but she feels no pain; she only hears a clang of fan meeting blades.
Her eyes fly open to see you just in front of her, barely managing to parry his attack.
“Oh!” Douma gasps, his grin getting wider. “More pests to play with! How fun.”
“Shut the fuck up.” You demand, countering Douma’s flurry of attacks. “How dare you lay a hand on her?!”
Shinobu has seen you in battle before. She’s seen how efficient your bladework is; always successful to save whatever hostages there were with no delay, and slice off the demon’s head only minutes into your fight.
Sometimes, she wonders why you haven’t been promoted yet.
You have hardly ever let up your smile; it’s a privilege given to everyone, even for demons in their final moments. And Douma was an exception.
You look far more different than your previous fights. The grip on your blade is so tight your knuckles turn white, and you’re shaking with a barely concealed rage.
You’re angry. And that is not a sight Shinobu sees every day.
“I’m so going to kill you once this is over, Kocho Shinobu.”
Ah. At least you said her name. She missed that.
Shinobu hears sounds of footsteps; more specifically, two pairs of footsteps, coming from the entrance.
A smile, deadly and poisonous as the wisteria circulating in her body, blooms on her face. “It seems like I’m not dying today.”
How can she, when you have yet to either?
#kny x reader#demon slayer#kny x you#kny x y/n#kny shinobu#shinobu x reader#kimetsu shinobu#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu manga#shinobu kimetsu no yaiba#shinobu kny#gender neutral reader#shinobu x y/n#shinobu x you
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words: around 2k
warnings: none!
prompt: “not knowing about demons, never running into one－ there’s no better way to live out your life!”
a/n: i love this man so much istg
a/n #2: i still have no idea how tumblr works (how do i reply to something?? yall are absolutely sexy to comment on this btw mwah) one guy who asked about uzuis retirement, it was a mistake on my part lets just let it slideeee
You see, when Kyojuro asked him to marry you, it was a complete accident. He had just come home from his exhausting job, and you were tending to his wounds. You had chastised him the entire time, with every jab becoming more evident that you were upset.
“I can’t believe you would let a disciple beat you up this badly.” You huffed, letting your fingers spread ointment on his bleeding forehead. “You have your limits, Kyo.”
“It’s completely alright! It doesn’t hurt one bit!” Kyojuro responded, even though the way his grip tightens on your other hand says otherwise.
You had shook your head in an exasperated sigh, but there was a smile on your lips. From his stories, you knew Kyojuro loved his students dearly; he was never shy to dish out compliments about them, and his hair always fluffed up in pride. “How’s Senjuro doing?”
“Quite well, I would say!” Kyojuro’s left eye twitched a little at that. It was an obvious lie.
“Kyojuro.”
The stern tone snapped him out of his facade, and his polite grin faltered.
You also knew that his family was quite… a mess at the moment. All you could decipher from his words is Senjuro was a kind-hearted young brother, and his father was a piece of shit. Someday, you would love to march to his residence and use him as a punching bag.
Whether you can survive, however, is a very different story. As much as you’d like to say you’re strong, you could never compete with Kyojuro’s strength. Plus, his father was mentioned to be a former martial arts master. You’d probably ascend to the heavens before you could get a single insult out.
Still, a woman can dream.
“… Father is still reluctant to see both of our potential.” Kyojuro decided to say. “But it is alright! I told Senjuro that I would be proud of him, no matter what! Because unlike me, he has a brother that believes in him!”
Kyojuro always wanted to open his very own dojo, but from what you can tell, his father was immensely reluctant. Senjuro didn’t have the potential to become his own student, and he received countless harsh words because of it. You have never met Senjuro in your life, but you have a strong urge to try and shield him from his father.
You’ve never met any acquaintances related to Kyojuro, but that was because his residence was miles away. It took at least a week for him to get back to you. Yet, he always makes sure to write countless letters to fill in the lonely silence in your home. You always found solace in his words.
You couldn’t help but smile. Kyojuro is always so kind, so bright, and even though night looms over your home, you feel like you’re in a sun’s embrace. You were sure if you were in his position, you would have long since given up already. His sheer will and determination never fails to surprise you.
However, something doesn’t sit right with you.
You took his hand in yours. There are countless scars on his body; you have yet to understand how his disciples could inflict such damage onto him. Perhaps he was always wandering around looking for a brawl with drunk men? No, he would never intentionally provoke anyone outside training. You knew him; he was always defending, protecting, as if he was shielding innocent people from death itself.
“Senjuro is lucky to have a brother like you.” You said. “And I’m sure you feel the same way.”
“I do!” Kyojuro chirped, his eyes burning with passion.
You chuckle. “But unlike him, you have me.” You placed his hands onto your chest, smiling wider as Kyojuro’s breath hitches.
“You have a lover that believes in you, and would go to the moon and back for you. I would travel across the entire galaxy to make you happy, because you don’t deserve the shit your father gives you.”
Kyojuro opened his mouth to speak, but you placed your finger on his lips, efficiently shushing him. “I’m sure your father has his reasons. Nobody drowns themselves in alcohol without feeling some sort of hurt. But that doesn’t excuse him for not trying to love you and Senjuro, you’re his sons, someone that he should treasure with his life.”
You didn’t know why you were rambling, but you saw his downcast expressions that he thought no one knew of. You saw him looking so lost, so hopeless, it hurts you to the very core. You needed to let him know.
“You’re amazing in every way, and I know having the chance to stand by your side is a privilege on its own. So please…” You gripped his hand tighter. “Let this lucky woman love you, for the rest of her life, if you allow it.”
Kyojuro was, for once, rendered speechless, and you bit back the urge to laugh. He’s so adorable, with his eyes widened and his jaw slacked. You had expected this reaction; after all, if it were the other way around, you would be red all over.
What you didn’t expect, though, was him pulling you into an abrupt kiss, with his arms wrapped around you so tight you almost forgot how to breathe. Kissing Kyojuro reminded you of the kindle of fire you’d find near a fireplace－ warm, comfortable, and safe from the world’s dangers.
When he pulled back, he looked like he had stars in his eyes. “Marry me.” He blurted out.
It took a second for you to register his words, and your cheeks flared into a dark shade of red.
That was how you ended up planning out your future with him, in the dead of night, with your arms wrapped around his waist. You had never planned a future with him; he always managed to evade the topic, and at the early stages of your relationship you always chalked it to him not wanting one with you, and you accepted that.
After that sudden marriage proposal, though, you were confused. Was it in the spur of the moment? Was he trying to one-up you? Surely, since nobody would know how to respond to such a long speech of a declaration of love.
In any case… you’re happy he’s allowing you to love him, to cherish this bundle of flames that has comforted you for so long. All you want to see is his smile, and anything else might just kill you.
“Five?! That’s far too many!” You say, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.
Kyojuro laughs, loud and so full of love. “I have always wanted a big family!”
“S-still…”
So far, you two have decided to settle down in a little house in a quaint, sleepy neighborhood, with maybe a dog, much to Kyojuro’s persistence. You could find a better job there, washing clothes or selling fruits, or maybe even become a teacher－ anything your heart desired. You could finally see Kyojuro daily, without him setting off on long journeys just to get to his dojo, and come back beaten up and bruised.
Yes… it sounded like a good plan. You had a couple of friends here, so maybe you could send them letters from time to time. Maybe you could even make more when you move.
“Sounds like a plan. Minus the dog part, anyway…”
Kyojuro lets out a whine, looking far more childish than he’s ever been, but you let it slide besides a laugh. “How could you say no to dogs? So cruel!”
“Ah, and this cruel woman shall dance upon your grave when said dog infects you with his sharp, drooling fangs!”
Kyojuro lets out a dramatic gasp. “I’m engaged to a witch!”
You cackle. “You have fallen for my spell, dear Kyo! You are bound to me for the rest of eternity, and I am bound to you! Mwahaha!”
“Oh, dear! How shall I break out of such a spell, I wonder?”
“There is only one way.” You continue to act, with a big grin on your face. “You shall give me a lifetime of kisses! Then, will you truly be set free!”
Kyojuro roars with laughter, and your act falls apart as you are also dissolved into giggles. He cups his hands onto your cheeks, his eyes shining brighter than ever before.
“I wouldn’t mind being bound to such a beautiful woman such as yourself.” He admits, and you splutter. “Your spell wouldn’t need much convincing after all,” He brings your hand up to his lips, and gently kisses its knuckles, a teasing grin blooming on his face, “because you’ve already enamored me, my dear.”
You only huff as your cheeks turn red, lightly shove his chest. “You’re such a sap sometimes.”
“Only for you, darling.”
“Oh my god－”
Kyojuro only smiles, as your red cheeks have yet to fade. Don’t you understand? He’s the lucky man. He wishes to see your highs and lows, your smiles and your tears, your bests and your worsts, and he wants to see it to the end.
His one and only regret is lying to you. You’re a fierce woman when you have to be, but you wouldn’t stand a chance against any demon that comes your way. You don’t deserve to be exposed to the harsh reality of demons, and especially not meet your end in the hands of one.
The place he wants to move in with you is rumored to have countless wisteria trees to match the aesthetic of the village. He’s willing to give up his residency, and perhaps even his father, because he loves you so.
He knows as a Hashira, any day can be his last. He’s nowhere as strong as the twelve Kitsuki. There are plenty of innocent people that are involved in Muzan’s scheme to conquer the sun, and that fact alone makes his blood boil with hatred. He knows a war is bubbling on the surface, a war that will determine whether decades worth of blood, sweat and tears of dead and alive slayers alike will eradicate the existence of demons.
He knows leaving at such an important moment will be considered a huge blow to the Corps…
Your smile. It would be worth it to see your fragile, weak smile that could be gone at any moment.
So… maybe… he’ll be selfish, just this once. He’ll throw away his katana and never look at it again, if it means he could be with you for another day.
He’ll send Oyakata-sama a letter stating his retirement first thing after his mission. Apparently, an alarming amount of people have gone missing on a train, and he can’t ignore that, no matter how desperately he wants to claim you as his.
But when he comes back, he’ll marry you, and give you all that he has.
When the first rays of dawn peek from behind its mountains, he kisses your cheeks, and parts from your sleeping figure.
He’ll come back.
This, he swears.
#rengoku kyojuro#kimetsu no yaiba rengoku#rengoku x you#kyojuro rengoku x reader#rengoku x reader#kyojuro x female reader#kyojuro x y/n#kyojuro x reader#kny x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer#kny fluff#kny x y/n#kny x you
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words: around 1k
pairing: giyuu tomioka x gender neutral reader
warnings: ❗extremely self indulgent❗, please don’t bring your pitchforks. otherwise its all fluff :D
summary: giyuu falls for a OP but gentle and kind reader. manga spoiler-free!
a/n: this is the first time I actually tried to write a y/n fanfic lolol, also i still have no idea how tumblr works. this is also posted on ao3!
Truth be told, no matter how respected he is, how talented he is, how superior he is, Giyuu is human. A plain human with an inferiority complex, with something akin to a heart of stone.
Still, a heart of stone is a heart nonetheless.
Giyuu never necessarily had a death wish; he simply thought, if death invites him, he’d take its hand. His soul was at a standstill, immovable and silent. He doesn’t want, he doesn’t wish. He only does, and hopes to close his eyes to an eternal slumber.
But… you.
When he first met you, he had been fighting an Upper Moon while protecting some children the demon had targeted. It wasn’t a daily occurrence to fight one, so it was a test to prove his position as a Hashira.
However, Upper Moons take the lives of the Hashiras, not the other way around, so it was only natural Giyuu would be on the brink of death. Humans only wish to survive because they have regrets, and frankly, he has none. He only wants to protect the children that are cowering behind him, and if he can stall until the children are far away, it’s enough.
But there was a rustle in the huddled trees, and for a moment, the world stopped spinning. You enter the battlefield with a pierced gaze and a strong aura of power, before you skid to a stop alongside him.
You had sheathed your blade, and its color shone bright in the swarm of darkness.
“Are you okay?” You ask, sweet and gentle despite the danger looming before you.
Giyuu only nods, but you eye him with disbelief.
It was his job to protect the juniors, but his vision swam with black and his limbs screamed to rest. He felt pathetic, a sense of dread trickling into his body as he watched you shield the trembling children the kitsuki had targeted.
He was ready to do anything to keep you alive, be it throwing himself onto the kitsuki or using his last ounce of strength to perform his final form. But he couldn’t help but watch as you leap into the air, your silhouette contrasting the mantled moon.
You move with precision and strength, with each strike so elegant and faster than the naked eye can perceive.
He felt… intrigued.
Enchanted.
Before his muddled mind could react, you had beheaded the demon with a clean slice, and his final wails fell on deaf ears.
You urge the children to lend them their hands, and you place wisteria petals onto their palms.
“Think of it as a lucky charm.” You say, kindness bleeding into your soft tone.
The children thank you as they part with you, and you only smile at them. Giyuu was confused. He had never seen you before, and he has never heard any mentions of a Tsuguko that fits your looks.
“Hey.” Giyuu all but barks, his legs buckling as the demon fades to ash. “Who are you?”
You had smiled, sincere concern in her eyes despite your casual response. “(L/N).”
Giyuu will never admit it, but he never forgot the smile, so soft and bright, coupled with the moon’s rays streaming into your face. He thought about it, even as the days went by along with his recovery.
Apparently, you had been promoted to Hashira, even though you were only a Kanoe days before. Your strength was by no means mellowed by your gentle personality. Its aura shocked the rest of the Hashiras, even as you wave it off with a bashful laugh.
“I had guessed you were somewhere in the higher ranks, but I didn’t know you were a Hashira.” You confess after a meeting. Giyuu could only hum, his throat feeling too heavy to speak anything coherent.
You had come out of nowhere, and already snatched the position of a Hashira. In fact, almost nobody in the Corps could recognize you, and you claim to have no master. Giyuu wondered who you were, and what your purpose was here. Had he not seen your strength, he would have tried to interrogate you.
You reminded him of Shinobu sometimes, whenever he saw you at the Butterly Estate. You were never there for medical aids, and your regular check-up visits were rare; yet you grab every opportunity to talk to him.
He caught you sitting on the edge of someone’s bed, feeding them a spoonful of medicine. You looked even gentler than he could describe, somewhat ethereal as the slayer pouts at the bitter taste of the medicine－
Uncanny. Giyuu found you… uncanny.
Sometimes, on even rarer occasions during the night, while he perched himself on a window sill waiting to recover, he saw you sitting on rooftops. You stared at the sky, lost in thought, twiddling your fingers with slightly parted lips. He wasn’t sure whether you knew he was there, watching the moon with you.
(You knew. You knew, and your heart cried for the burdens painted in deep blue eyes.)
What were you thinking about? Why were you here?
Why do you look so lonely?
When slayers become Hashiras, they sign a contract that goes unsaid; the promise of a lifespan cut short, the promise of burdens and scars, in exchange for a safer world.
Both of you knew this, yet each day you inch closer and closer together. You start to join training sessions with him, and he starts to talk more, to fill in the empty gaps of silence during your conversations.
He’s heard your many laughs before. Polite chuckles towards your seniors, and amused snorts towards your juniors. He heard this one laugh, with so much unfiltered joy and childish like giggles, it stirred his heart. His chest tightened, and it hurt, but it hurt so good.
He didn’t remember what he said to make you laugh like this, but did it really matter, when you’re gasping for breath and flustered like this?
But he remembers that his heart is soaring and dropping, and he wanted to give it to you, in all its plain glory.
He did eventually, on a quiet spring’s morning; he was all red cheeks and stutters when he leaned in, and you exposed your heart and vulnerabilities by being the one that closed the gap.
Kissing you felt like heaven; your lips are slightly chapped, and you probably ate something weird Mitsuri bought you a few hours ago, but it felt soft, it felt gentle, and Giyuu felt like he could cry. You seemed so fragile, your small waist looked like they could shatter like glass, when you were anything but. He could stay here on the porch forever, kissing you with him being handsy about everything.
A Hashira’s job isn’t sunshine and rainbows, everyone knows that. The relationship that bloomed between you won’t mean shit during life and death. If it takes yours, you only smile through the pain. If it takes his, he’ll endure it and let his last words roast the ever living hell out of his opponent.
Now, if death asked Giyuu to cross the bridge, he’d do a double take at you. Your graceful smile as you take his hand, and drag you back to the land of the living. “Stay,” you would say, calm and collected even though the afterlife is but a step away, “For one more day.”
His soul is now at complete peace, free from any storm of conflict.
If he truly dies, all he wants is his hands intertwined with yours, his heart beating for you and only you.
Because he is only human, and he seeks the eternal warmth that slumber could never bring－ from you.
#kny x reader#kny x y/n#kny x you#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu x y/n#gender neutral reader#oneshot#kny fluff#spoiler free
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KNY men and women trying their best to calm Angry!Reader, who bottles their negative emotions up
Characters: Rengoku, Shinazugawa, Kanroji, Tengen and his wives x GN!Reader
A/N: This is my first time writing reader insert headcanons, and this is purely self-indulgent, so I apologize in advance! I thought it’d be fun, especially since I’ve been very frustrated lately. There’s always sad reader, but what about angry reader? :0
RENGOKU
- jokes!!
- no seriously, jokes
- anything condescending can trigger a chain reaction of impulsive decisions that can only scar both of you
- but gentleness isn’t kyojuro’s biggest forte, believe it or not
- you thought he was an adorable idiot before?
- it’s about to be 10x worse better
- dad jokes, horribly done makeup, cheesy pick-up lines you’d find on your 6th google search page
- “if being sexy was a crime, then you’d be guilty as charged!”
- but the way he says it is so loud and un-seductive at all is hilarious
- which is why he’d nail dad jokes better
- “did you hear about the italian chef who died? he pasta way!”
- “kyojuro, i-”
- “his wife is devastated, cheese still not over it!”
- “wh-”
- “she never sausage a tragedy coming-”
- whatever it is that makes you crack a laugh
- he’ll do it all until your anger has simmered down to exasperation or until you’re laughing your ass off
- the alternative solution is tickling!!
- if you’re still upset, he’ll wrap his arms around you
- “what’s wrong, love? :(”
- whether you open up to him or shake your head saying everything’s fine, it’s up to you
- all he wants you to know is he’s here to help when you’re overwhelmed
- an incarnation of a fireplace burns warm and bright :DD
SHINAZUGAWA
- this man needs anger management classes + therapy after muzan’s bullshit
- so i wouldn’t be surprised if he straight up asked you what was going on
- “oi, why’re you so tense?”
- sanemi wonders if it’s because of something he said so he racks his brains trying to figure it out
- depending on your response, he’ll try to calm himself and sit you down
- he’s lost a lot, but he’ll be damned if he loses more because of his temper
- out of all the pillars, he’s the least likely to be mature and try to talk, but he does it anyway
- if you refuse to tell, he’ll just run his fingers through your hair and massage your scalp
- he’s not stupid, he knows what affection is, damn you!
- … he’s trying his best
- he’ll do little, soft gestures to coax you into his arms
- you’ll probably have to regardless of whether you know what he’s doing, moments like these are rare and it’s a crime to deny affections from sanemi >:(
- he’ll try to decipher what’s going on because he doesn’t want to force it out of you, just in case it was someone else’s doing
- he’ll rant about how he’ll skin them alive and woaH hey now that’s not family-friendly
- “fuck you and your family-friendly ass.”
- he’ll begrudgingly ask genya for some light novels because i headcanon genya reading them in his spare time
- genya will probably thank you later on for making his brother reach out to him
- you’ll spend what little time you have huddled together while gasping at sudden plot twists of the light novels
- you’ll miss the occasional soft smile that sanemi sends your way as you invest your attention onto the story
KANROJI
- i love mitsuri, i really do
- but i think she’ll be busy showering you with hugs and kisses to ever know that you’re angry at first
- but she’ll realize before it’s too late
- she hates the way your eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and the little scowl etched on your lips
- it makes her heart squeeze in a painful way
- she’ll treat you to some candies!
- if you crunch on the hard ones and they shatter without you licking them, she’ll probably sweat
- oh no, just how angry are you?
- she’s faced disapproval and irritation directed at her before, so she doesn’t want your angry face to ever meet her own
- well, majorly she just wants you to be at ease
- she wants to keep you happy, so she strokes your back as you take in some deep breaths
- she’ll go around town and buy the best things she knows you’ll love
- there’s also this new thing where you bring food from restaurants home to eat, so she tries that
- but before that, hot spring!!
- she’ll make sure there is absolutely no demons lurking around and patrol the area, and depending on your status you’ll either stay shivering with a towel covering you or patrol with her
- you’ll probably vent your anger towards the demons that had the misfortune of trying to eat you
- so RIP them
- after a refreshing hot spring break, you’ll enjoy the take out misturi brought home
- with your bellies full and your body warm, you’ll be lulled to sleep by mitsuri’s soothing touches and gentle kisses on your forehead
- the talk will come sooner or later, but mitsuri just wants you to be rational and calm when that happens
- TLDR; she pampers you the entire day until all you know is how to laugh and smile
TENGEN, HINATSURU, MAKIO, SUMA
- like mitsuri, uzui won’t notice you’re angry at first either
- but he’s way more dense
- in fact, it’ll probably be hinatsuru that’ll figure it out first
- she’ll bring back a bouquet of sakura flowers and suggest a bath
- you’d calm down, but you’ll still be frustrated and spiral into overthinking the little things that happened
- the three wives don’t like to scheme behind anyone’s back, but they know you’d do the same for them
- so hinatsuru will probably tell makio
- makio is rather short-tempered, but is by no means any less considerate
- her way of venting negative emotions is… well, usually by telling suma’s childish behaviour off
- “you can’t bottle up emotions like this, it’s not healthy.”
- they all usher you into a room
- and suma throws a pillow at your head
- and oh, you’re dead meat
- it’s every woman for herself!
- you all hide behind your poorly organized pillow fortress, and you may have been a tad aggressive at aiming for them (make sure to apologize!)
- but your heart swells at seeing the three woman you love having fun
- you were all pretty deprived of these moments because the majority of your time were fussing over uzui’s injuries
- “what’s all this noise?”
- uzui enters the battle!
- as usual, he’s the most flamboyant of them all, and he catches on pretty quickly of what his wives were trying to do
- “accept defeat and embrace our love!”
- he won’t take no for an answer
- you’ll all eventually be covered in sweat and pillow feathers, but you’re laughing
- you either explain what happened while panting and out of breath, while everyone is attentive to your every word
- or you just sit there in a pile of pillows, smiling at the ceiling while your fingers are intertwined with the people you love
hope you all have a wonderful day :))
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haha mdzs au go brrrr
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guys I'm funny I swear
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