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aemonds-little-belle · 1 year

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Feelings Sold Separately

CHAPTER FIVE (THE SHOES)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

TAGS - (REPOSTED FROM AO3)

Alternate Universe - Sugar DaddySugar BabySugar Baby AUAUokay this is a whole ass story that's just one long ass brain fartliterally i am just coming up with this on the spotlow key really love it thoughSugar Baby/Sugar Daddyobviouslytalks of class issuesaemonds been hurt in the pasti think there will be some sexy stuff eventuallywait fuck i didn't mention this is a modern!aumodern!AUAlternate Universe - Modern Setting<3Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen is Bad at Feelingsstop that was recommended but so accurateI don't know how to do tagsI'm SorryI promise it's goodAnd no one diesand it's just so classically a sugar baby/ sugar daddy au it hurtsreader works at a cafe ... obviouslythis will follow a similar storyline to the show just modern and also not at allFamily Issueswait probably dom/sub vibes tooDom/subLight Dom/subclearly i don't know where this is going yetmy readers are always written fat because i am fatso keep that in mind

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The room was cold, loud beeping filling it as heat once did, Y/n groggily trying to find her god forsaken phone in the mess of her slept in bed. The screen reading 8:30, the alarm soon canceled as she read the messages that popped up.

AEMOND ‘Would you like a coffee?’ 8am ‘Y/n?’ 8:10am ‘Are you still sleeping?’ 8:20am

Y/n groaned, rolling over as she contemplated what to answer. To be fair, she had already snoozed two other earlier alarms, this morning just not agreeing with her as well as she wished. Before she could even click on the messages to answer, Aemonds contact popped up on the screen, a call ensuing.

“Good, you’re awake.” He sighed from the other side, disappointment yet also relief lacing his words.

“Mmph.” Y/n hummed, her eyes still closed as she relished in the warmth of her blanket.

Aemond chuckled. “So I’m assuming that’s a yes to a coffee?”

“Mhm.” Y/n hummed happily. “Something cold and strong, please.”

“Sure.” He said clearly before muffled words could be heard, him ordering as Y/n waited patiently for the conversation to continue. “I’m about twenty minutes from your house, is that enough time for you to get ready?”

Y/n let out a short chuckle. “I could be ready in five minutes if need be.” A grin lingering on her lips as she stretched out.

“So I should speed then?” Aemond joked, something Y/n hadn’t expected from him.

“No!” Y/n panicked, her small fib not something she wished to have tested. “No, twenty minutes is perfect.”

Aemond stood anxiously outside the blue apartment building, his heart racing as Y/n’s iced coffee chilled his one hand, his phone sitting in the other, a loud noise catching his attention. Y/n stumbled out of her building's front door, one running shoe untied, the other in a messy knot. “Sorry!” She called out to Aemond as she crouched down to re-tie her shoes, her face warm after her rush out the door. “Miss Falker wanted to remind me that my fridge is making a funny noise again.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she stood up finally looking at Aemond in all his perfect suit glory. “Which is funny because my...” She paused, consciously not finishing the sentence, grasping to find anything else to focus on.

“Because?” Aemond was smirking, Y/n a total mess in front of him, half asleep and yet her eyes were wide open.

“Is that my coffee?” She pivoted, reaching her hands out like a child begging for candy. “You’re sent from the gods I swear!” She cheered, Aemond enjoying this more open and real side of her, a welcomed contrast to her usual anxious being.

“There’s a bagel in the car for you too, you can eat on our way into town.” He said in a monotone voice, not wanting to scare the cheerful girl in front of him with his usual harsh and melancholy atmosphere.

“Aemond you really didn’t have to …” He cuts her off, a new hobby of his that he’s welcomed with open arms.

“Spoil you?” Y/n nods her head at his words. “You mean the thing I’m paying you to let me do?” Y/n smiled at his words, realizing her mistake. “I want to make it crystal clear, little dragon.” ‘You’re driving me nuts with that name’ His voice dropped lower, seriousness blanketing the two of them. “I want, no, need, to go out of my way to make your life easier, that is all I wish to do.” He was close to her again, just like the previous night, except this time Y/n’s iced coffee created a distance between them, though his demeanor now so similar, so overpowering, just like it had been then. “So why don’t you give me a ‘thank you for my bagel’ and a ‘I’m sorry for complaining’. Hmm?” He teased, Y/n’s cheeks heating up significantly, her head spinning.

“Thank you for my bagel, Aemond, I can’t wait to eat it.” Y/n added some extra words, suddenly longing for the extra credit, some sort of gold star for her ability to follow, something she had never wanted before, her brain spinning faster now, too many thoughts suddenly quieting down to a low hum, his hum. “And I’m sorry for complaining, it won’t happen again, I promise.” ‘A gold star, a kiss, Aemond, give me something.’

“You’re welcome Y/n, are you ready to behave now?”

‘He means professionally �� I think.’ “Yes, are you?” Y/n quipped.

“Hmm.” Aemoned hummed amusedly, opening the passenger door, Y/n walking over with a smirk plastered across her face, slipping into the car with her coffee, a short squeal exiting her lips when she saw the bagel, Aemond chuckling before closing the door, she would be the death of him.

The two of them began walking towards the shopping mall, the dark grey tiled walls tall and daunting as Y/n looked up reading ‘North Mall’ on a large light up sign, the whole thing scary as she entered through the glass doors, Aemond holding the door for her as clean black walls and white marble floors embraced the two. “This is really big.” Y/n whispered, her head turning left to right, large store after large store, the scent of expensive perfume flooding her nose, and properly dressed people walking around. ‘I’m out of my depth.’ She thought to herself ‘I should just turn around’ ‘I’m not meant for this kind of life.’.

Aemond pulled out his trusty phone, his notes app opening instantly, a long list popping up. ‘At least one of us is organized.’ “We need to get a lot while we’re here.” He looked down to Y/n’s feet, people passing by as Aemond noticed the busted running shoes, Y/n trying to hide her one foot with the other. “We should start with shoes, that way you’re comfortable walking around.”

“My shoes are comfortable.” Y/n challenged.

“I can see your sock.” Aemond responded flatly.

Y/n hesitated, eyes squinting as she tried to think of some reasonable excuse. “Air vents?” She questioned.

“Hmm.”

“Where is the shoe store?!?” Y/n asked enthusiastically, placing her hand above her eyes, pretending like she was looking for a spec in the distance.

“Next time.” Aemond waited for eye contact before continuing. “You listen.” He tapped his ear, Y/n lowering her head before nodding, ‘Damn, I’m bad at this.’. Aemond held his hand out, Y/n confusedly looking to him, him nodding back to his hand, ‘this is new.’ Y/n smiled, placing her hand in his as he led them to what she assumed was the shoe store.

“Aemond.” A voice called out, in a very flat and professional way, with no emotion behind the words, ‘nothing like at the waffle house’ Y/n thought. The older woman who had spoken walked over towards the two, barely making eye contact with Y/n before turning to Aemond. “How can we help today?” She asked, a fake smile that could be spotted miles away, plastered along her thin lips.

“I need size.” He paused, turning to Y/n, a questioning look on his face.

“Oh, I don’t, I don’t know.” She blurted out, the woman in front of her looking unamused, a pit growing in Y/n’s stomach. “These are hand-me-downs, I’m so sorry!” Y/n began stressing, Aemond’s hand squeezing hers in a reassuring manner, though she felt overlooked and ignored by the woman, she at least knew Aemond wasn’t juding.

“I’ll pull a couple things, replacements?” She asked, nodding to Y/n’s current shoes. “I’m guessing.”

Aemond let go of Y/n’s hand, gesturing for her to sit on a chair further into the store, letting her get out of ear shot before continuing. “I would appreciate a whole work up, shoes for every season, event, everything.” He said lowly. “I just don’t want to overwhelm her.”

The woman snapped her fingers at a younger man, him rushing over quickly. “We can get her measurements and begin putting a few things together, we can keep the bulk of everything in the back and you can have someone come and pick them up at a later time.” She smiled, the man quickly typing everything into a tablet, pulling up a few different styles. “I would suggest no heels for this one Aemond.”

They both looked over to Y/n, her sitting on the large chair, her legs swinging slightly as she looked dead on at the two of them, smiling when she noticed Aemond’s attention was back on her. “Maralynn, this is why I refuse to shop anywhere else.” He admitted, happy for the fast and effective service he could count on every time.

“You’re the best tipper Aemond, we wish for no one else to shop here.” She said with a little more emotion behind her words, the professional wall collapsing for a second.

“Aemond I don’t need more than one pair of shoes.” Y/n pouted, four boxes currently opened around her, all different sneaker styles, each being rooted for by Aemond ‘Let me buy them all’ Targaryen.

“Hmm.” He hummed, standing as Y/n looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to be reasonable. “You’ll take home two.” Aemond said matter of factly, his tone leaving no room for argument once again, a voice he had clearly perfected, Y/n immediately looking back to the shoes and huffing in defeat.

“I like these ones.” She pointed with her sock clad foot towards a plain black pair, once she would love to use at work, the soles much more comfy than her current ones. Aemond nodded, picking the box up and handing it to the closest attendant he could find. “Andddd.” She huffed, looking over the other options, each style, colour, lace type, blending together. “These.” She pointed at another pair, this one black with some white accents, simple running shoes that probably cost a fortune, and yet looked simple enough.

“Good girl.” He hummed, Y/n’s eyes wide as saucers as he sat down in front of her, pulling the shoes out of the box himself, scooting closer gracefully and beginning to untie them.

“I can …” The look in his eye stopped her from protesting. ‘Spoiling … Right.’

He took his time, double checking where her toe was in the shoe, making sure the attendant wasn’t lying when he said they fit perfectly, then pulling the laces tight, making sure the bow and it’s loose strings wouldn’t be tripped over, his pant leg getting slightly dirty in the process, the dust from Y/n walking around the store in the shoes seeping in. “Good?” He asked, his eye meeting hers as he patted her two feet, his one thumb brushing over her ankle, goosebumps erupting over her body at his touch.

“Yep!” Y/n squeaked out, barely able to keep her cool as Aemond’s, now classic, smirk crept up again.

He slowly stood up, quickly patting away the small shoe marks from his legs. “I’m going to pay, should just be a minute, okay?” Y/n nodded at his words, his arm outstretched, pulling her off the seat and letting her stand in place as he sauntered away, his suit jacket picking up the wind slightly.

Y/n took the free moment to check her phone, though Aemond was the only one she really ever used it for, Eyla put her number in it and was currently blowing up her phone with text messages about how the ‘Mr sexy voice’ weekend was going, Y/n laughing as she shot back a simple ‘shut up’ message. Her face heating up as she looked back to Aemond, who currently towered over the cashier as he gave her his card, his head turning back to check on Y/n, the two of them sharing a smile. ‘Shit though, this is the first store.’ Y/n suddenly felt the previous pit in her stomach open up, this was not her world, and she was worried about the consequences that might come from her pretending it was.

#aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #sugar daddy!aemond targaryen #sb/sd!au #sugar baby!au #modern au #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen

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amarimaryllis · 3 years

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The Sun’s Incarnation (Ushijima x Reader)

Pairing: Ushijima/Reader

Prompt/Summary: The love between the two of you was not meant for this lifetime. Alternatively, Ushijima is a demon slayer, and you’re the unlucky demon that fell in love with him.

Tags: Angst, Demon Slayer AU, Reincarnation AU

Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader

Warnings: Angst, Death, Mild Violence

The shop was always empty in the dead hours of the night. You couldn’t blame the people for being absent during those hours. The cold air bites at the skin of those who dare walk out, and the moon barely gives any guiding light for those who dare stumble out in the dark. It was better for you that way. Having no customers to serve meant that you could just sit in one spot, and you’d still get paid. It also meant the hunger that swirled in your stomach would not tempt you to sink your teeth into the flesh of the unlucky soul that dared to cross the path of a starving demon.

It gets monotonous with the lack of life in the restaurant, but monotony is a grim reality that came with being immortal. You’ve grown accustomed to the emptiness that settles itself in the confines of your chest, and you’ve tried all that you can to fill that void, but nothing ever really worked. Maybe this was the price of power, but even then, no power on earth could rival the dreadful feeling of loneliness.

You’re disturbed from your thoughts when the door slides open, a tall figure appearing from the freezing darkness that hugged around the restaurant’s warm light. A gust of cold wind comes from the open door, and if you were human, you might’ve shivered from the autumn wind.

“Welcome to Sakanoshita.” You greet with a smile as you try to hide your annoyance. You guess that there were still humans out there who did not value their life, and this man was solid evidence of that. What kind of idiot would walk around in the cold in a town rumored to be infested with evil spirits?

Your question is answered when the door closes and the man turns to look at you,

“I seek shelter from the cold,” He states with an air of confidence that didn’t match his fatigued figure,” And a warm bowl of noodles, if it’s not too much to ask.”

You would’ve rolled your eyes and told him that restaurants usually were meant to serve food so asking for a bowl of noodles is not too much to ask as long as you pay, but the fear that clawed at your mind stopped you from doing so. His clothes were a dead giveaway of what he was. His maroon haori, his dark uniform, and the blade perched at his hip were enough to make you feel threatened. Only a demon slayer could awaken the instinctive fear that lies within you.“Would any noodle do?”

“As long as it’s warm.” The tall man replies as he sits on one of the tables, the one closest to your booth.

“It’ll probably take some time.” You warn even if you know that you could easily whip up some noodles in a short time. You were doing all that you can to rid yourself of the demon slayer’s presence.

“Take as much time as you need.” The man waves off your fraudulent worries before he relaxes into the chair that seems to be too small for his large frame. “I am in no rush.”

“I’ll go ahead then.” You smile tightly before going to the back to prepare some noodles.

You could feel your fear grow with each step you took away from the man’s presence. You had no qualms about having to defend yourself from him, should he attack, but there’s always that part of you that worries. It was also unnerving how he barely gave you a glance. The tired man seemed to be too absorbed in his fatigue to second-guess your true nature. Perhaps he knew what you were, and he was just toying with you, lulling you into a false state of comfort before he slashes his blade through your neck in one clean swipe.

He did not.

Once the man got his noodles that took you almost an eternity to prepare, he ate it up like it was his first meal in a long time before he stood up, paid for more than what the noodles cost, and disappeared into the shadows of the unforgiving night.

You pray it was the last time you encounter the mysterious slayer. Funny how faithless creatures call on the power of the very gods that have forsaken them when placed in danger’s way. You would think the power that coursed through your veins would set you in a high free of worries, unyielding and arrogant in facing any creature that dared breathe in your direction. However, you should’ve known that anyone who dares defy the power of the heavens will soon meet their match.

The gods reject your prayer, or maybe it never even reached them. The prayers of sinners remain flightless and bound to earth, whispered into the sky only for darkness and oblivion to consume it. Whichever it was, it didn’t matter because a week passed, and the mysterious slayer reappears.

You set a bowl of soup in front of the man and he thanks you. You acknowledge him with a nod before you walk back to your booth. This was the part you hated most: sitting on a chair and wondering if the man was going to figure out what you were. He seemed pretty dense for a man meant to kill such elusive creatures.

“Why do you only work at night?” The mysterious man asks before he takes a sip of water.

You could feel the fear in you growing stronger. Had he figured it out? “How are you so sure I only work at night?”

“I drop by here in the mornings.” The man looks at you, his gaze not giving away any of his thoughts. “I never see you.”

“Why? Are you looking for me?” You attempt to fluster the man, maybe that would shut him up and veer his thoughts away from suspecting you. “After all, you won’t really notice my absence if you don’t seek out my presence.”

“I am.” The man admits, and your attempts on flustering him seem to backfire because now you’re the one who’s flustered, but at the same time afraid, as strange as it sounds. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

You give him the same answer you give to those who get the opportunity to ask. “Working at night pays more, and I have to do less because of the lack of customers.”

You motion to the empty seats surrounding the two of you. “You’re the only one who dares to walk through the dark streets of a town rumored to be infested with evil spirits.”

“I am armed.” The man pats the sword on his hip. “And I’m sure it’s not the spirits that will harm people like you and me.”

“Oh?” At this point, you were playing with fire. However, the monotony of immortality is slowly eating away at the rational part of your brain. The desire to feel something more than just emptiness was leading you to dangerous roads that most likely ended in blood and death. “Then what exactly will harm people like you and me?”

“Demons.” The man replies without a pause, his once dull eyes seeming to glow with a raging inferno of hatred and bloodlust. “Foul creatures that prey on vulnerable humans like you.”

“You speak as if you are not human.” You reply with a stable voice, but it’s taking all of your efforts not to run away.

“I am human, but I am not as weak as one.” The man’s unwavering confidence seeps into his words, and you’re almost tempted to rip him into shreds just to extinguish that flame in his eyes. However, you could tell that he meant every word, and he could easily prove himself if you attack. “However, you are. You shouldn’t be working this late at night. It’s dangerous for a woman, especially one unarmed.”

“So what if I am a woman?” You scoff. “I can still put up a fight.”

“I am not questioning your abilities.” The man replies. “I’m sure you can put up a fight, but you shouldn’t have to if you just put yourself out of danger.”

“Why are you so concerned?” You can’t help but scoff at the man. You just wanted to get this shift over with.

“There are demons lurking in this town.” The man replies, stoic and unyielding. “And I’d like to keep the deaths as low as possible.”

“How brave of you.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Demons are but a tale to keep children in line.”

“I beg to differ.” The man replies. “Should a demon come your way, you’ll know just how horrible they are.”

You can feel your anger grow at his words.

“However, I’ll make sure I kill that demon before it lays a hand on any of the people in this town.”

“Do what you please.” You shrug. “By the way, I never got your name.”

“Why do you need my name?” The man questions, a brow raised questioningly.

“I’m going to gossip with a few ladies here and there about a man who goes to restaurants at the dead of the night and believes in demons.” You reply, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi.” For the first time, you see the man smile.

Over the course of a few days, Ushijima’s late night visits become more frequent which led to you becoming more and more comfortable in his presence. His presence had breathed a fire into the cold emptiness that lay within your body, and you found yourself seeking his presence out more and more with each day that passes. Your relationship with the slayer was a friendship of sorts, a few conversations tossed around here and there before Ushijima departed into the night. However, that relationship took a turn during your weakest night.

The emptiness in your chest was not part of the promises that the demon offered you in your wintry deathbed. You should’ve known from the start that the price of rising from the ashes meant that nothing in this world could make you feel that burn again. The demon’s promises were as cold as the snow stained with your blood, if not colder, but you had deluded yourself into thinking that the promise of being reborn would breathe a new fire into you. Being placed at the brink of death had a funny way of clouding a person’s judgement.

It was at the moment, in the outskirts of the dark forest near the town, that Ushijima found you, mourning the death of your humanity and reminiscing the moments that led to it. The feelings had been bottled up for too long, and now the fragile glass that held you together was shattering violently. You were a shaking mess, tears staining your cheeks, blood coating your knuckles as you punched at the ground to feel something other than the void that was once your soul. Even then, the pain that throbbed through your knuckles wasn’t enough.

Ushijima pries you away from the ground and he pulls you to his chest. He doesn’t ask you to speak. He doesn’t ask you to do anything. He just lets you sob into his chest, cradling you in his arms as he runs his fingers through your hair in an attempt to comfort you. He wishes he could calm the storm within you, swipe a hand to alleviate the raging winds of sadness that stirs within you, raise a finger to silence the deafening thunder of regret that crashes within your soul, but could not. The gods despised creatures like you, and Ushijima realizes this as he watches the wounds on your knuckles heal at a speed foreign to the body of a mortal. Ushijima pretends to not see it as he removes his haori and drapes it across your trembling figure.

Ushijima brings you home, your meek voice guiding him as he carries you through the town. You did not have it within you to fight. You did not have it in you to think twice about the offer of being brought back home to the comfort of your bed that you did not even need. When you get there, Ushijima sets you down gently on your futon before sitting across from you, an arm’s distance away.

“I’m sorry for the trouble.” You whisper as you lean against the wall and hug your legs to your chest in an attempt to feel safer. You grip at Ushijima’s haori, pulling it tighter around you. A small voice in your head tells you to wonder about how many of your kind have stained the fabric with their blood, but you push it away because in this moment, nothing made you feel safer than the very thing that was meant to be a danger to your existence.

“Don’t apologize.” Ushijima is as straightforward as ever, and you’re not sure if the tears in your eyes are altering your vision, but you swear there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes the unbeating muscle in your chest flutter. “Do you… Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head. You knew that if you spoke now, you’d let it all out. Something about Ushijima made you want to tell the truth, whether it was trust or foolishness, you did not want to find out. It almost makes you feel bad as you’re reminded of what Ushijima does as you look at the sheathed blade by his side, but you knew that you would feel worse if you had to die at his hands. You didn’t want to see the disgust that would take over his face if he found out that you were one of the very creatures that he swore to destroy. “Can you… stay?”

“If it’s alright with you.” Ushijima replies coolly, but the light blush dusting his cheeks gave away his feelings towards your proposition.

Silence hangs between the two of you like the wisteria that grows on the mountain. Its presence was overwhelming, and it displeased you greatly. You glance at Ushijima for a brief second before you just give it all up. Courtesy be damned, you were lonely and fate was dangling an opportunity not to be right in front of you.

“Ushi—“ Your attempt to call out for Ushijima dies in your throat halfway through. It was pathetic. You thought you were done mourning what has been long dead, but for some reason, without a trigger, without a warning, you’re back suffering through the same feelings again. It wasn’t fair.

Ushijima immediately scoots over to you before he guides you to lie down on the futon. He holds you close to his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as you sob into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Sleep, it’ll help.”

You didn’t know which deity had gazed upon you and thought you deserved a semblance of mercy, but that night, sleep washes over your body as you surrender yourself completely in the demon slayer’s arms.

Ushijima awakens before you do. The sun was still out of sight, and you were still fast asleep. As much as he wanted to stay with you, he had a mission to fulfill in the other town. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he shuts your curtains tight to make sure that neither sunlight nor moonlight will filter through your windows. He knew it was wrong, whatever it was he felt about you. Fondness? Sympathy? Affection? Love? Whatever it was, he knew that he couldn’t feel that way towards you. He had sworn to kill your kind after all. However, for some reason, he can’t seem to do it with you. His hand remains far away from his blade, and the usual urge that Ushijima had to swipe a demon’s head clean off their neck was absent.

What the hell made you any different?

Ushijima shakes his head, hoping that the thoughts in his head would loosen its grip on his consciousness and fall out into the air and fade into the dark. It doesn’t work, but it doesn’t stop Ushijima from trying as he walks out of your house and into the blanket of the cold morning.

The next time you see Ushijima, he is draped in casual fabrics. His demon slayer uniform is out of sight and the sword perched at his hip is nowhere to be seen. In his hands, however, was a bouquet of gardenias.

“There’s a festival later.” Ushijima says with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, and you’re almost tempted to tease him for the blush dusting his skin and for the lack of his usual air of unwavering confidence. “I would like to go there with you.”

It’s your turn to be flustered, an unfamiliar heat creeping through your cheeks as Ushijima stretches out the bouquet of flowers to you.

“Gardenias?” You gently grab the flowers from Ushijima’s grip before you give him a teasing smile. “Not my favorite, but they’re pretty.”

Ushijima smiles at your teasing. He has been around you enough to know your little quirks. “The woman at the shop told me they were fitting.”

You don’t understand what Ushijima means, but you don’t bother questioning it. “So, shall we?”

Ushijima smiles as he holds out an arm for you to take.

The music from the band rings all the way to the quiet part of town. Each note thrums in the air and you can almost feel your heart beating in time with the faint boom of the drums. The night is filled with life, and for the first time in your immortal lifetime, you are reminded of the long-forgotten beauty of the things that live under the sun. Ushijima, whether he knew or not, had given you a piece of the life that you have long turned your back on, and in that moment, as you sit beside Ushijima in the grassy landscape, you almost wish you could stay until the sun rises on you again.

“What are we, Ushijima-san?” You whisper out, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the night. You fear that if you spoke louder than a whisper, the shadows would awaken and devour the life that floated through the midnight sky.

“I seek out your company even when I am with others.” Ushijima replies as you both continue to observe the town from a distance, the slowly dwindling orange lights made it look like the embers of a dying fire. “And I can only hope you feel the same.”

Monotony can make even the most simple things feel like a momentous event. Simple words spoken by a simple man, nonetheless, they succeed in making your insides flutter with a felicity unknown to your immortal personage. “And if I do?”

“Then perhaps I would ask if I could kiss you.” Ushijima turns to look at you with an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, swirling like liquid pools of gold under the glimmer of the moonlight.

You attempt to swallow your nerves as you turn to gaze at Ushijima who sits beside you. Your voice still comes out soft and unstable, however, there’s an undeniable certainty in the words that leave your lips. “And if I allow you to?”

Ushijima brings his face closer to yours until your noses are a hair’s breadth away, his warm breath dancing on your lips as he moves to engulf your cheeks in his large calloused hands. “Then I would be the happiest man alive.”

His lips, his hands, his body, everything about Ushijima Wakatoshi is warm. The way his mouth moves against yours feels like the fire you have long forgotten when you decided to rise like a phoenix from the ashes. It dances through your interlocked lips, like a mortal breathing in the sun as he offers a graceful dance to the god of fire. It burns you, his touch, but it makes you feel alive. As Ushijima wraps his arms around your waist, and as he pulls you into his sturdy chest, you forget.

You forget that the fire he breathes into the empty shell of your body is the very same fire that is meant to snuff out whatever light is left within you.

The last time you see Ushijima Wakatoshi, it’s in the forest of the other town.

A brother in need had sent a letter to your domicile, seeking your presence in the mountains that he dwelled in. Oikawa Tooru was the one who showed you how to live after you were reborn. Your creator could not, and so the brunette was the one to fill that spot in. You owed Oikawa your life, and although it was life you used to regret living, it was a life that had brought you to Ushijima

Oikawa had been told that a group of demon slayers were sent to his mountain, and he sought your help. Apparently, the Sun Breather was one of the slayers they had sent. It was alarming to any demon, powerful or not, because every single one of you feared the sun, and to face the man who breathes its rays is even more horrifying. No one knew what he looked like. No demon ever crossed his path and lived to tell the tale.

Oikawa was afraid, and he sought your company.

This leads to your current situation, lingering in the trees with Oikawa across from you as you listened to the growing sound of footfalls against the snow. The moon is nowhere to be seen, and you can only hope that the shadows are enough to conceal you.

“Come out demon, you have nowhere to run.” The familiar voice makes you freeze in your position up in the trees. “There’s no use hiding when I’m going to kill you anyway--”

Oikawa dodges in time, and he hops to the next tree. Another slayer had attempted to kill him from the back.

You, however, are not as lucky as Oikawa is.

A slayer comes up from behind you and manages to slash through your arm. You fall onto the ground, bleeding profusely out into the cold snow, and it almost feels like you’re back at your deathbed.

You don’t lift your head, you didn’t want to see the look on Ushijima’s face when he confirms that it is actually you. You’ve tried so hard to conceal who you are in order to lengthen whatever time you had with the man, and you were not ready to lose him just yet.

“So you’re the Sun Breather.” Oikawa stands protectively over you. “I should have known.”

“Oikawa.” Ushijima nods in acknowledgement as the other slayers appear behind him, including the one who had slashed through your arm. “I never thought you would end up becoming one of them. You were a promising slayer after all.”

Oikawa laughs as he nudges at you with his foot, a silent plea for you to start running. “You brought quite a lot of slayers, I’m flattered.”

“And it seems you’ve brought a friend as well.” Ushijima turns to look at you, taking your figure in properly before he freezes. It couldn’t be, right? The owner of Sakanoshita said you were visiting a friend in another town. Ushijima clears his thoughts, and he hopes he is wrong. However, no matter how much he pretends not to see, he can’t deny the familiar figure. He had been around you enough to know you by the lingering traces of your presence.

“I’m giving you the chance to walk away, Sun Breather.” Oikawa hisses as he pulls you to stand up.

You cover your face with your hair, ignoring the world around you as you focused on mending the wound left by the slayer’s blade.

“Unfortunately, I cannot do the same for you.” Ushijima draws out his blade.

And with that, you and Oikawa break out into a run.

The snow is cold against your feet, you don’t feel it, but you remember the feeling very well. If there’s one thing from your past that you remember, it’s the feeling of the unforgiving cold that nips at your skin, eating away at your warmth until there’s nothing left in you but the raging winds of winter.

You can hear the footsteps, the crunch of the snow under the weight of the slayers that are sprinting to catch up with the two of you. There’s an undeniable fear clawing at your chest, devouring all rational thought and cultivating the demonic instincts that you wished you could destroy.

But alas, the consequence of power is beginning to catch up, and the gods have grown tired of your defiance. Death would not let you escape this time around. You have defied the heavens once, and those proud creatures would not let you disobey them again.

Oikawa stumbles as a slayer cuts him down, and he screams. He shouts at you to continue running, to not look back, and to save yourself from the fate that he knew he was about to suffer.

You can hear the sickly sound of the blade meeting skin, and you run. You run as fast as you can, as far as you can from the snowy mountain stained with the blood of the man you once called brother. Fear courses through your veins and you can only hope that none of them catch up to you.

And if ever they do, you pray that it wasn’t Ushijima to do so.

You are brutally reminded that the gods have no need for your prayers. They did not need the worship of a faithless creature. You trip over a branch concealed in the snow, and you’re sent rolling down a steep incline. The rocks dig into your body as you crash down into a snowy part of the mountain that overlooks the town. Crimson bleeds through the fabric that hugs your figure, and your blood stains the pristine snow.

You hear footstep as you lie defeated on the ground, and you shut your eyes as you surrender your fate to whichever slayer has found you. Redemption does not exist for beings like you. Only death can forgive you for defying it. There is no atonement for a sinner who does not accept their fate.

“Why are you giving up?”

You breathe out a chuckle. The gods really were cruel, of all that they could send to kill you, they sent the one that made you feel alive.

It was poetic, in a way. The man who breathed life into you would be the one to take it.

“It is my fate to die either way.” You mumble out as you trace the skies with your eyes, surrendering to its vastness. “Running away will only prolong my agony.”

“If someone else found you,” Ushijima kneels beside you, hand far away from the hilt of his blade. “Would you have given up this quick?”

“If someone else had found me,” You can feel a tear escape your eye. “I would’ve been long dead.”

“So you’re just going to die,” Ushijima lies down beside you, and you wonder if he can feel just how cold it was. You doubted that though, the man was practically an incarnation of the sun. Even the winter in your body died when brought close to his warmth. “Do you not care about what would happen to me?”

“You would not care.” You mumble out, your throat tightening and your head throbbing with the urge to sob. “I would’ve been just another demon dead.”

“But I would.” Ushijima sits up and brings you with him, gripping your arms as he looks into your eyes. This was the first time you’ve looked at him since the start of the chaos in this mountain. “I’ve always known. Ever since that time at the mountain, I knew.”

“Then why did you stay?” You could feel the tears flowing freely. You gripped at his haori, clenching your fingers tightly as your chest did. “Why didn’t you kill me? Why did you have to make me long for a life I cannot have? Why did you give me a taste of the sun when you knew it would kill me?”

Ushijima doesn’t speak as he wraps his arms around your sobbing form.

“Pathetic, don’t you think?” The laugh that escapes you is laced with bitterness. “I’m a fool for falling in love with someone I’m meant to resent.”

A chuckle rumbles through Ushijima’s chest and you wonder if he has gone mad. His grip tightens around you as he presses a kiss at the crown of your head. “Then I guess we are both fools.”

Hours pass and you are both silent, no one speaks, just having the other is enough. You listen to the beating of Ushijima’s heart, the sound lulling you into a state of calm that you haven’t felt in a while. For a moment, you both lose your identity. He is not the man who breathes the sun, and you are not the demon that brings death upon mankind. There was nothing in that moment that grounded you to the harsh reality of the world you lived in.

“Wakatoshi,” His name feels like a prayer as it falls from your lips. “I want to see the sun with you.”

You can feel Ushijima shaking. His breathing speeds up, and his heart starts beating faster. You can hear the sobs forming at his throat. “But… That would mean…”

You pull away from Ushijima’s chest and you move to cup his cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” There are tears flowing down Ushijima’s cheeks as he leans into your touch. His heart mourns a death that hasn’t happened, and for a moment, you’re almost tempted to stay.

“They’ll kill you if you don’t kill me.” The smile on your face has an underlying tragedy underneath it. “And I don’t think you can raise your blade far enough.”

Ushijima’s eyes widen. “I could never raise--”

“I know.” You wipe the tears away with your thumbs. “So let me see the sun, okay? I’ve forgotten what it looks like.”

“Please,” Ushijima grips at your wrists. “Not like this.”

“One day, Wakatoshi.” You smile sadly. “A time will come where we can gaze upon the sun with no worries.”

“Please don’t do this.” Ushijima pleads with you, desperation evident in his words as he seeks to change the inevitable.

“There will be a lifetime for us, my love.” You run your fingers through his hair, you trace the features on his face, and you embed every inch of his face into your memory. “Maybe not today, but someday.”

You ease the wrinkles in between Ushijima’s furrowed brows. “Promise me you’ll find me?”

There is resignation in Ushijima’s eyes as he presses his forehead against yours. It is inevitable. The two of you can only make the most of what you are given, and you were not given much. “I would happily die a hundred deaths to reach the lifetime meant for you and I.”

You smile sadly. “Can I kiss you?”

“What if I say yes?” Ushijima thinks back to the festival as he gazes into your eyes.

You can feel a tear roll down your cheek. “Then I’d be the happiest woman alive.”

And as you kiss Ushijima, the skies begin to shift, the sun slowly rising in the horizon as dawn breaks in the distance. You never see the sun before you fade into the ashes you once escaped, but you didn’t have to. The only sun you needed held you in its arms, whispering confessions of love and promises of devotion.

Ushijima can only look at the rising sun with contempt. He hated how the very thing that gave him strength was what took away yours. He hated how you had to suffer. He hated how he had to fall in love with you in a world that would never accept it, but he relents.

The sun brings with it a hope so strong that it pulls Ushijima from his thoughts.

One day, he thinks to himself, the sun will shine on us again.

The sun is bright.

You were starting to think that hiking up a mountain during the summer was a bad idea. It’s not like you were the one who willingly brought yourself here. Oikawa was back from Argentina, and for some reason, the first thing he wanted to do was hike up a damned mountain. You don’t know where your brown-haired companion was, but you could care less. The view you got from this part of the mountain was a sight to behold.

The mountain overlooked the town. The skyscrapers looked like dots in the distance, and the city’s noise was unable to disturb the peace protected by the towering trees. As you breathe in the air and feel the sun kiss your skin, there’s an overwhelming sense of peace and recollection that floods through you.

Something about standing in that spot felt so familiar.

“Excuse me?”

You nearly trip off the edge at the sound of someone’s voice.

You turn to look at the culprit, ready to chew them out for almost sending you to your death. However, when you turn to look at the stranger, the words die at your throat.

You knew who he was, Ushijima Wakatoshi. One of the players in the Schweiden Adlers team. Someone Oikawa has always talked about with distaste.

However, you feel like you knew him more than just that. For some reason, as you look into his olive eyes, you feel like you’ve known him your entire life. And he probably felt the same because the next thing you know, the same words escape your mouths.

”Do I know you?”

A/N: Bringing back an old piece. I made this to explore a more poetic (?) writing style, and this was one of my practice fics before I wrote “All The World Drops Dead”. It’s also pretty angsty, and there’s barely any closure, but rest assured that I’ll probably be giving out fluffy fics soon cause angst is tiring HAHAGSGRHFHDJHSKS Also, I’ve posted this before (in my old acc) and I’m bringing it back cause this fic is dear to me. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this and thank you for reading 💖

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #genre.angst #tw death #tw mild violence

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cruelangelstheses · 4 years

Text

the whirlwind girl

fandom: six of crows rating: T characters: inej, nina words: 2.1k additional tags: modern au with magic, first meetings, sexual harassment, could be read as platonic or romantic description: when a drunk man hits on inej at a bar, a stranger comes to her rescue. a/n: HIIII i wrote this for the @sixofcrowszine which has now been shipped so i can post!!! i don’t have much to say except that this book absolutely enraptured me and i love nina and inej and their interactions with each other so !! girls <3 inspired by that prompt that’s like “you were being hit on at a bar so i pretended to be your partner to get them to go away”

read it on ao3

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Inej isn’t sure why she’s even here.

She’s never been a fan of clubs or bars or similar establishments, especially not at night—too loud, bursting full with people whose inhibitions are hindered by alcohol. Besides, she’s just finished performing, and while the roar of a crowd cheering for her is much different from a bunch of random drunks, it still counts as being around people, and it drains her just the same. She prefers to spend her evenings curled up with a book or hanging out with a couple of close friends, not out late partying.

The whole reason she even came into the Crow Club in the first place is because she knows someone who works here, a funny and good-natured—if reckless—young man named Jesper, who spends about the same amount of time gambling during his off-hours as he does bartending during his shifts. Unfortunately for Inej, it turns out that Jesper, for once in his life, actually isn’t here tonight, even though he’s always here on Saturday nights. According to the current bartender, a slightly older man that Inej doesn’t recognize, he’s on a date, of all things, with a boy named Wylan. Perhaps she’ll text him about it later and ask how it went.

She’s happy for him, of course, but this also means that she has no business being at the Crow Club, so now she’s sitting awkwardly at the bar with a virgin pina colada in hand. She rarely drinks alcohol; she always needs to feel sharp, like the edge of a fresh blade. She knows she could just pay and leave, but it feels weird; she just got here. Maybe she’ll sit and people-watch for another ten or fifteen minutes, then slip out.

As this thought crosses her mind, Inej watches as a stocky, sweaty-looking man, already clearly inebriated, enters the casino...and immediately plops down onto the empty barstool beside her.

Inej takes a sip of her drink and stares down into the glass, pretending to be incredibly interested in its contents, but it does nothing to stop the man from leaning over and saying, “Saw your performance.” His breath smells of cheap whiskey, and Inej has to stop herself from wrinkling her nose.

“Did you, now?” she says without looking at him. Inej works the same job she’s always worked: she performs with her parents as a small troupe of traveling acrobats. Despite their occupation being somewhat unconventional in this day and age—circuses and such just don’t get as much traction as they used to—they manage fairly well. Besides, Inej lives for the thrill of the high wire.

“I did,” the man replies. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him grinning like a wild dog. “Impressive, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” Inej drums her fingernails nervously against the glass and takes another sip. She can feel her butterfly knife up against her hip, but using it might get her kicked out of the Crow Club—which wouldn’t be a huge loss, really, except that she’d hardly ever get to see Jesper. She already doesn’t see him very often since she travels so much. Or maybe pulling a knife on a guy wouldn’t make a difference here; it’s far from the nicest place in Ketterdam, and Ketterdam is far from the nicest city in Kerch.

Unexpectedly, the man slings an arm around Inej’s shoulders. “What do you say to showing me a few more tricks, hmm?”

This is why Inej doesn’t like bars.

“Um.” She clears her throat, squirming slightly. “No, thank you. Uh, my parents wouldn’t be pleased.”

The man licks his lips. His eyes gleam with bad intentions. “Who says your parents have to know, huh?”

Before Inej can say or do anything else, a brown-haired whirlwind of a girl she’s never seen before marches up to them and says in Kerch, “Hey! Hands off my girlfriend!”

Inej can feel her face heating up. Either this girl has the wrong person, or she knows exactly what she’s doing.

The man narrows his eyes in confusion and reluctantly pulls his arm away from Inej. The girl, pale and curvaceous with bright green eyes, puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head in disbelief. “Honestly. I leave for five minutes to go to the bathroom and come back to find that someone thinks he can just put his hands all over her. I mean, have some damn respect!” At that, she points an accusatory finger at the man.

Alright. It’s definitely the latter.

“I, uh, didn’t realize she was taken,” he says as he looks the girl up and down. “But hey,” he adds with a sly grin, “the more the merrier, right?”

The girl groans. “Classic,” she mutters under her breath. Putting a hand on the man’s upper arm, she leans in and says, quiet but firm, “We’re not interested.”

The man’s eyelids start to droop. Then, a second later, he passes out face-first onto the counter. A few people turn to look in their direction, and the girl feigns concern, gesturing helplessly to the man. “I think he had too much to drink,” she says, which is probably true, to be fair. One of the bouncers sighs and wanders over to grab him.

Inej watches them in silence. It’s not until the bouncer and the unconscious man are completely out of earshot that she turns to the girl that rescued her and says, not unkindly, “You’re a Heartrender.”

The girl hops up onto the barstool previously inhabited by the drunk man. “That I am,” she says quietly, so as not to be heard by the wrong set of ears. Suddenly she’s speaking in perfect Suli instead of Kerch, perhaps to make Inej more comfortable. “But more importantly, I’m the girl who just saved your ass.” She shrugs. “I thought maybe I could get him to leave you alone without having to use my power, but then he got creepier, so I just kind of said ‘fuck it’ and lowered his heart rate enough to make him pass out.”

Inej laughs a little at that. “I bet that’s useful,” she replies.

“Oh, yeah,” the girl agrees, “but I’m also persecuted for it, so...you win some, you lose some, I guess.” She says it casually, but Inej can hear the bitterness behind it.

Inej isn’t a Grisha, but she is Suli, and she knows well the feeling of persecution. “I understand,” she says softly. “And...thank you.” She could’ve handled it—at least, that’s what she tells herself—but she appreciates the gesture, more than she can properly express.

“It’s nothing,” the girl replies, but the faint pink in her cheeks tells a different story. “I have a lot of experience dealing with men like that. I figured I might as well help you out.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Not that I don’t think you could’ve handled it yourself, but…”

Inej shakes her head in understanding. “No, I get it,” she says. “I’m good with a knife, but I didn’t want to use it unless I felt like I had to.”

The girl’s eyes gleam with interest at that. “Nice. Oh!” she says, looking as though she just remembered something important. “I just realized I never even introduced myself. I’m Nina. You’re Inej, right? Inej Ghafa? I know you from your performances. I’ve seen some videos of you and your family online.”

“Really?” Inej says. For some reason, it still surprises her whenever people tell her that they know her from the internet. She didn’t think her family was that popular.

“Of course,” Nina replies. “You guys are really phenomenal.”

Before Inej can come up with an appropriate response to the compliment, she feels her phone buzzing in her pocket. Pulling it out, she chuckles at the name displayed: Mama. “Speaking of my family,” she says to Nina. “Let’s see if I can even hear her over all this Saints-forsaken noise.”

Nina crosses her fingers in support as Inej answers the phone and puts it up to her ear. “Hello?”

On the other end, she can just faintly hear her mother asking her where she is.

“I’m at the Crow Club, Mama,” she says. “I was looking for Jesper, but he’s not here, so I’m coming back to the room now.”

Seemingly satisfied with that response, her mother wishes her safety on the walk back to the hotel and hangs up.

“Sorry,” she says to Nina, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “I should probably be going. I was planning on leaving soon anyway when that guy came over.”

“That’s okay,” Nina says, hopping off the barstool. “I was thinking of heading out soon, too.”

Inej sets some kruge down on the counter for the bartender, then follows Nina out the door and into the cool night air.

“Hey,” Nina says as they stand outside the club, watching cars go by. “Would you want to—I don’t know—keep in touch?” She blushes as she says it, which doesn’t seem standard for her. “I know we didn’t talk for long, but I’m not from Kerch, so I don’t have many friends here, and you seem like a really cool person. I know you travel a lot, but…” She trails off and shrugs.

There’s still that part of Inej that warns her to exercise caution, that just because Nina helped her once doesn’t mean she’s “safe” yet. Deep down, though, Inej can feel the goodness in her. She saw a stranger in trouble and immediately leapt to her defense, even though it could’ve ended badly, even though she could’ve exposed herself as a Grisha in a potentially hostile environment. The least Inej can do is allow herself to trust her, just a little, just enough.

“That would be nice,” Inej says, pulling her phone back out. “I can give you my phone number, and you can give me yours.”

Nina’s face lights up, and Inej knows that this is the right decision. “Great!”

They exchange phones and plug their names and numbers into each other’s contact lists. When Inej gets her phone back, she sees that Nina’s surname is Zenik. It flows nicely, like a stream unobstructed by rocks or logs: Nina Zenik. Nina Zenik.

“Hmm.” Nina taps her chin thoughtfully. “I was going to offer to walk you back to wherever you’re staying, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m mothering you or think you can’t handle yourself. But it’s also a late night in Ketterdam, and that’s dangerous for anyone, let alone a young woman walking by herself. Me as well as you.”

Inej would be lying if she said she didn’t feel at least a twinge of anxiety walking the streets of Ketterdam alone at night. Staring down at the new number in her contacts, an idea presents itself to her.

“We could talk on the phone as we walk back to our places,” she says. “That way you can make sure that I’m safe, and I can make sure that you’re safe. Then, if something were to happen to one of us, the other one would know.”

A flash of what looks like relief crosses Nina’s face before she quickly covers it up. “Good idea.”

Nina’s apartment is, of course, in the opposite direction of Inej’s hotel, so they go their separate ways until they’re out of each others’ earshot, and then Inej calls Nina.

“Wow, I haven’t heard from you in forever,” Nina says.

Inej laughs. “I know. Such an agonizingly long thirty seconds.”

It takes Inej about fifteen minutes to walk to the hotel, during which she learns that the reason Nina is in Ketterdam is because she’s studying abroad for a semester, and that she’s currently attending Os Alta University to be a translator. She tells Inej funny college stories, and Inej tells her crazy stories about her travels in return. Strangely enough, Nina’s voice actually grounds her rather than distracts her. It keeps her mind in the moment so that she never has a chance to get lost in her own head. She doesn’t usually let her mind drift when she’s out and about in a large city, but with Nina, the odds are even lower. It’s comforting. Her voice is a guiding light.

Nina arrives at her apartment first, but she stays on the line with Inej, who reaches the hotel about five minutes later. Standing outside the front doors, Inej promises to keep in touch with the whirlwind girl who bounced into her life so suddenly less than an hour ago. When they finally hang up, her chest feels light.

#six of crows #grishaverse #nina zenik #inej ghafa #ninej #my fics

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odissey061 · 4 years

Text

Her soul

Fandom: ikemen sengoku

Pairing: Ieyasu x reader

Notes: A historical AU with a demon Ieyasu and a human reader.

Tag: @towa-no-yume, @r-f-a-journalists, @crazyfreckledginger

Being the son of Satan has never been easy: Ieyasu was full of responsibilities and duties he had to fulfill. Most of the day he was in Hell, writing paperwork and dividing souls into categories due to the committed sins. He was helped by other demons, of course, but the pressure he felt was enough to stress him to the point of hysteria.

Sometimes he escaped from his work to go outside the castle. In the garden there was a magical lake: he was a mirror of the human world. When he peeked at the human world he was always speechless: somehow they could surprise him for their stupidity and selfishness, sometimes for the cruelty.

He learnt human beings were extremely complex creatures: differently from angels and demons, they weren't utterly good or utterly evil. Inside their hearts there were both light and darkness and only themself could decide who to be. In his life he saw the purest souls behave like the cruelest and the worst scum committing nice gestures. Human beings were worst than demons: at least they didn't masquerade their evil nature under hypocrisy.

But stupidity was stupidity. He thought irritated as he watched in the lake. On the Earth happened rough times: a typhus epidemic had already killed one third of Europe and the chaos reigned everywhere. Lootings, murders and violence: no matter how honest can be a man, because in times like this -where the Death walked amongst them- they thought it was legitimate do all these things. And Ieyasu's work only increased. He hated so much this situation.

Now on the water's surface there were two sisters: one of them, the eldest, was dressed like a nun and the youngest was a nurse. The oldest put wet clothes on the burning children's front and the other helped her. Nuns. Ieyasu couldn't think to more stupid people: why they treated sick people, even if they know the chances to be infected were really hight.

The prince was going to left the lake, disgusted by that sickening kindness, when he noticed something funny: on the nun's neck there was a pustule.

She was sick and in a couple of days she'd be able to stand outside the bed.

Fives days later he acknowledged satisfied that his prediction was correct: the sick girl laid on the bed and her body was transfigured by bloody cuts and pustules. The house was little and filthy, the wooden floor and the shelves were full of dust, and smelled like a culvert.

Aside from the scamper of the mice, there was no noise. She was alone. Ieyasu thought the sister has forsaken her -he wasn't surprised at all-, but he was surprised when she opened the door. She ran to her and checked the body temperature. She changed the wet cloth on her head and cooked something to eat for the both of them. "Big sis, wake up: I have done something to eat" she gently woke her up and helped her to sit.

She thanked with a feeble voice as she ate. In the room reigned the silence.

"How are the children in the orphanage? I hope someone of them has healed" the sick girl asked, "The doctor today visited them and said... They... can't heal sister unless a miracle happens... I'm so sorry, sister" she cried. Why in the world this happened to her sister? It was so unfair...

After the meal she joined the hands to pray:"Please God, help my sister to heal. She's very kind to the others and... she's the only relative I have. Please God, don't take her away from me: I couldn't live without her. Please, please, please, save her".

She started to cry. What a foolish girl.

Haven't humans already learnt that pray God to spare them was useless?

God didn't care about human beings.

The day after Ieyasu went on the Earth to meet her. "I can guarantee your wish" proposed him, "You are an angel sent by God? I'm so grateful He listened to my prayers" she said. Ieyasu was annoyed: every time he went amongst humans, they often mistook him for an angel, due to his appearance, but he was the son of the Devil. "Yeah, a kind of. As I said before, I can guarantee your wish, but you have to pay a price" he lied. "Whatever is the price I'll pay it, no matter what" she exclaimed. She was very brave, Ieyasu had to admit it. Or she was simply stupid and reckless.

He grabbed her hand. "Even if the price is your soul?" he asked. Her eyes wined with horror as she tries to retract the hand, but his grip was too strong.

"Let me go, Devil. I won't make a deal with you! Go back to Hell, you monster" she yelled, "I could do it, true, but what about your sister? Your parents died although you and your sister prayed both day and night. God didn't grant your wish at that time and you still hope he will do it now? Foolish human. Only I can help you" he scolded her. The girl started to cry and lowered her head as she reflected. "Yes, I accept the deal: you can have my soul, but in exchange my sister must heal. Now let go my hand" she agreed. "Wait. Who told you the deal was made?" he wondered, "I have your consent, but we have to firm it".

And he bit her hard, then he brought the hand to his mouth, savoring the blood. It was deliciously sweet. Then he did the same with his lips and as he kissed her, he was careful to give her his black blood. When they departed, she spits it out of the mouth, passing a hand on the lips to remove every trace of the trade.

"Now your soul belongs to me: no angel or miracle will save you from Hell. If you behave correctly I could even give you the slightest punishment" he reminded her with a smirk as his body faded into the darkness.

When the girl came back home, she saw her sister out of the bed. "Big sis, why are you out of the bed? You are sick!" she exclaimed and held her as she was going to fall. The older one rolled up the sleeves of the shirt and she felt faint: she was healed. The arms, and the body as well, had no longer the pustules. The Devil kept his promise. Tears fell from the eyes and she hugged her:"You are healed, sister, I'm so happy". The sister hugged her back:"Yes, God has listened to our prayers". For a brief second, she thought to tell her the truth about her healing, but she quickly gave up. Her sister got sick to heal the children as she sells her soul to save her. She realized the other's happiness was more important than her own life.

Ieyasu grinned: he would have waited some years, then he would have claimed her soul, but in the meantime he would have watched her. She piqued his interest: in a long time he didn't see a human as caring as her without being a complete fool.

Happy birthday Ieyasu😘

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