#my first sakusa piece fdslfdlkfj

[kuroopaisen]

dawn. (sakusa kiyoomi)

➵  even monsters should have someone to bring them flowers.

wc: 3k

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!sakusa, visceral depiction of raw meat?

a/n: the biggest of thank yous to ren, as usual :( she doesn’t even like fantasy aus and yet she’s beta’d a fair chunk of them. as always, her advice is invaluable, and she helped polish this into something worthwhile. 

A note on the table.

The only sign you’d been here. That, and your lingering scent – warm, golden, comforting. 

He was almost sad that he’d missed you.

But the words in your letter would have to tide him over until your next conversation.

“Good morning! I hope you are well-rested this evening. I have left this meat here as requested. I couldn’t help but wonder what dishes you make with it. Are you much of a cook? If not, I am happy to try and prepare something for you. I cannot guarantee that it will be to your taste, but I will try my best!”

He let his eyes linger on it for a moment. He wondered how his chest might feel, if he was fully alive. Tight, maybe. Fuzzy.

Now, the thrum of emotions just made his senses sharper.

And that made him uncomfortable.

He turned his eyes to the parcel sitting to the side of your note.

He unwrapped the paper packaging with a trembling gloved hand.

The ripest cut of the belly. It sat in a pool of its own liquids, a crimson slab marbled with white. He knew that there wasn’t a sufficient amount of blood in it – but it’s all he could handle. All he could stomach. 

He took a deep breath. The air in his lungs did nothing for him, but some habits were harder to break than others, even if it had been a couple hundred years. 

He picked up the meat with both hands, holding it just shy of his mouth. His face crinkled as the scent filled his nose, putrid, offensive, intoxicating. 

It’s disgusting. But it’s what he had to do.

He sunk his fangs into the meat, the damp flesh pressing against his chin. He could feel the juices running down his chin, and he shivered. His eyes fluttered shut, perhaps in some attempt to steel himself. 

It’s not blood. It wouldn’t sustain him.

Instead, it would just make him sick.

This meat, this scant amount of blood threaded throughout it, wasn’t enough to sustain him. But he’d rather go hungry than go out for a hunt, either for animal or human.

The thought was absolutely abhorrent, both in its ethicality and hygiene.

This meat was not enough to sustain him. But it would stave off the hunger, at least for a few days. At least until the next slab of meat, when he would feel this all again.

He’s trembling as he drank, hoping, wishing that it would be over soon.

A loud gasp sliced through the kitchen.

Sakusa tore his fangs out of the meat, his head whipping around.

You were stood in the doorway, eyes wide and hands clamped over your mouth.

At your feet laid a bunch of sunflowers.

You stared at each other for a long moment.

What was he supposed to do? To say?

He knew what he looked like. Sharp fangs poking through his lips, red staining his chin, the veins running along his jaw dark beneath his skin as he fed.

“Sakusa, sir…” There was a tremble in your voice. He despised the sound.

“Get out.”

“Sir—”

“Get out.”

You knew now. You knew that he was a monster. That he was disgusting. You’d seen it with your own eyes – eyes full of terror. Eyes he’d never wanted to look at him like that.

You waited for just a moment. And then you were gone.

Sakusa let the meat fall out of his hands and plop onto the wrapping. His appetite had entirely disappeared despite the fact he wasn’t nourished. He closed his eyes, trying to round up his whirling thoughts. 

You’d seen him. You’d seen him in all his disgrace. You’d seen him as the monster he was. 

He swallowed roughly, turning his gaze to the doorway. 

The sunflowers were where you’d dropped them, scattered across the floor.

Were they why you’d come back? You shouldn’t have been here. You should’ve left after finishing your jobs.

But it was just like you to bring him flowers on a whim.

He sighed, stalking over to them and picking them up with a grimace. The least he could do was to give them some water.

✧ ✧

Vampires didn’t need sleep, but Sakusa liked to pretend he did anyway.

He always had. He just did his best to quiet his mind, lying under his covers as he waited for the hours to ebb by. He couldn’t leave the house during the day; if he tried, he would simply shrivel up and crumble in the sun.

He’d tried facing the sun, once. The burn had been unlike any pain he’d felt before.

And yet sometimes he'd leave the curtains open, just a crack. And he'd lie on the couch, watching the light filter in. Sometimes, he'd even let himself remember what the sun felt like.

But every evening, he had to ‘wake’ as the sun set, watching the light shrink away from him.

That evening though, something was different. Something shook him from his self-induced slumber with an abrupt shock.

That scent. Blood.

He shot to his feet, head whipping around in the direction of the smell. It was heavy, oppressive, so thick that he couldn’t think of anything else.

He stumbled into the kitchen, hoping, begging that he might find some relief.

In the middle of the kitchen table sat a bucket. Sakusa took a series of slow, laboured steps towards it, gripped by some half-conscious fear.

A letter laid next to it, written in a familiar scrawl.

“Sir, I admit that I am confused as to how to comprehend what I saw yesterday, but if my suspicions are correct, then I believe this will do you more good than a simple cut of meat. If my imagination has gotten away from me, then simply ignore this – my father told me that mixing this into the dirt makes for a fantastic fertiliser.”

Had you really brought him a whole bucket of blood? There was more than enough here to sustain him for a week – maybe even two. How had you gotten your hands on it? How had you snuck it into his house? How had you felt, lugging this foul liquid all the way to his estate?

He closed his eyes, trying to quell the thoughts tearing through his mind.

He looked into the bucket. A dark shadow stared back.

He’d forgotten what he looked like. He’d forgotten how his dark, curly hair framed his face, how two dark moles crowned his forehead, how dark and deep his eyes were.

This was the monster you’d seen savaging a slab of meat in the kitchen. This was the monster that you’d somehow gotten your hands on a bucket of blood for. This was the monster you’d given a reprieve.

On the other side of the bucket sat a vase of sunflowers; the ones he had arranged the other day. He could swear they looked fresher than yesterday.  

✧ ✧

That awful, intoxicating scent.

He had awoken to that small three times this week. But on that Monday morning, he wanted to see you. To ask you the questions that had been hounding him through his days. 

He stood at the far end of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he slouched against the wall. 

You were humming to yourself as you walked in, your knuckles blanching as they gripped onto the handle of a deep bucket. 

You flinched as you caught sight of him, your eyes wide and owlish. The jolt caused the blood to slosh around in the bucket. Sakusa feared, for a moment, that it would splash on the floor.

You placed the bucket on the floor and bowed sharply.

“Where did you get that?” Sakusa asked, his voice low and sharp. He suspected that you would interpret his tone as an angry one. In truth, he was frightened more than anything. Frightened of how this conversation could go. 

You straightened up, fixing your eyes on him. They were still wide, still afraid. It almost looked like they’d pop out of your skull. “The butcher… they drain the caracsses before, you know…”

Ah. Your body language, your scent. It all screamed of discomfort. Distress, even. Of course you would feel that way, talking of such things. You were much too sweet for such talk.  

This was his fault.

But you continued.

“So, when I saw you in the kitchen that day, I thought that…” You finally dropped your gaze. He was grateful.

“I know,” he murmured. “I read your note.”

You looked up at him again, a new expression on your face. He realised, not without some surprise, that it wasn’t fear. Perhaps something closer to hesitation.

“You were quick to make such an assumption,” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. Sakusa wouldn’t lie to you; not when you’d gone through all this effort for him. Though, perhaps he should tell you that it was safe for you to leave his employ, if you wished.

“Well, it didn’t come out of nowhere, did it?” You smiled gently, tilting your head at him.

His head snapped around as he raised an eyebrow at you.

You giggled. It didn’t sound intentional, and you cut it off quickly. But he was glad to have heard it. 

“You’re most active at night, you seem to actively avoid the sunlight, you’ve always kept a distance between us…” There was a hum in your voice. A pleasant sound, but an out-of-place one.

He frowned. Your last piece of evidence had little to do with his affliction, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He would’ve kept that distance regardless; perhaps he would be even more stringent with it, if he was still human. But it was of no matter.

“So, you’ve suspected I was a monster for a while,” Sakusa sighed. “And yet you kept coming back?”

You bit your lip, folding your hands in front of you.

He scoffed. “That was foolish of you.”

“Well, I…” You swallowed, scratching the back of your neck. “I… I thought you seemed lonely.”

Something about those words set his heart aflame. Him? Lonely? What right did you have to say something like that?

“And… and you’ve never tried to hurt me,” you mumbled, interrupting the rage swelling in his chest. “If you wanted to… to drink my blood, or, or…” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “Well, you would have done that by now, wouldn’t you?”

You’d been tending to his house for the better part of a year. The longest anyone had.

He just frowned, looking away from you.

But you weren’t done.

“And… well, you wanted me to bring you meat, right? Which means… you probably weren’t hurting anyone else,” you bit your lip, tilting your head at him. “It may be foolish of me, but… I didn’t want to judge you for what you are.”

“For being a monster, you mean?” Sakusa snarled.

He couldn’t stop himself. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he knew he sounded repulsive. He wanted to push you, to stop you from looking any closer. From seeing how horrible he truly was.

You looked at him for a painfully long moment. A moment he wished would shatter.

“You’re not a monster.”

“I’m disgusting.” A hiss. A baring of fangs. Responses made on instinct.

“And yet you won’t feed on humans,” you murmured, eyes scanning his face.

He faltered. Were the fangs not enough to make you turn and run? Was the bucket of blood at your feet not enough to make your stomach churn?

“Would a monster hold back like that?”

Would they? He couldn’t say.

“And besides,” you said, taking a tentative step towards him. When he didn’t move, you picked up the bucket and made your way for the kitchen table. You heaved the bucket onto it with a little grunt.

 “Even monsters should have someone to bring them flowers,” you smiled, nodding at the centre of the table. A vase, playing host to a small bunch of sunflowers.

“I see you haven’t brought any today,” he murmured, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I knew I wouldn’t need to,” you replied easily, leaning over to feel one of the petals. “You always look after them so well.”

He finally looked at you. You had the softest of smiles on your face. You didn’t look scared, or appalled, or upset. You were the perfect picture of contentment – just someone admiring the simple beauty of a flower.

A flower he had been responsible for nurturing.

Perhaps, there was still some humanity in him.

The thought was almost as soothing as your smile.

✧ ✧

You were terrified.

There were many whispers about Sakusa, and you’d heard them all. Even before you’d taken over the job of tending to his household, you were well-acquainted with the stories of this strange, pale man who lived alone in an excessively large mansion. A mansion that, except for a handful of peculiarities, was empty.

Previous housekeepers had nothing bad to say about him, but it was obvious they were unsettled by how strange he was. Apparently, he was a stickler for cleanliness. And yet, that wasn’t even the strangest thing about him.

You had almost decided not to take up the job, back when you’d first started. The thought of being in this big house alone with such a strange man had genuinely frightened you – but, as the story always goes, you needed the money.

After meeting Sakusa for the first time, you came to the conclusion that he probably wasn’t dangerous. Shy. Awkward. Intense. But not dangerous.

And maybe that really was foolish of you. That word had snuck back into your mind over and over, always in that harsh tone of his.

But you knew loneliness. It had carved a home inside you, a well so deep it could never overflow.

And in that strange, reticent man, you saw it. The face of a man who sheltered a deep, relentless loneliness; perhaps harsher and heavier than the one you knew. It was like he wanted to reach out, to find that sense of connection and understanding, and yet was too afraid to.  

Sakusa had never hurt you. He’d never made any move to seduce you, or trap you, or manipulate you. There were no stories of him having done that to anyone else either.

So, maybe you were being foolish. Maybe this was dangerous.

But you wanted to give him a chance. To extend a hand.

And that was why you had stayed later, with the intent of catching him.

You sat on the couch next to him in a tepid silence. You weren’t quite touching, but it was the closest he’d been to a human in a long, long time. He flinched, but he didn’t move away.

“May I?” You murmured, eyes flicking to the hands clenched in his lap.

Every instinct was screaming, a muddled cacophony of wants and fears.

Sakusa nodded, driven by something he didn’t quite understand. Something, perhaps, that he’d forgotten about long ago.

You gently took his hand in yours, easing the tension in his grip by running your thumb over the back of it.

“How long have you been like this?” You asked, looking right at him. You wanted him to know that you saw him, that you acknowledged him.

“Two hundred and forty-seven years.”

“Have you avoided people all that time?”

He looked away from you. In truth, he had avoided people long before he turned. 

You pressed your lips together, running your thumb over his knuckles. “Are there not… others like you?”

“There are,” he murmured. “And I want nothing to do with them.”

You bit back a smile, thoroughly amused by the dismissiveness in his tone. “Why?”

Sakusa frowned. The life of a vampire was invariably a life spent in solitude. As a rule, they weren’t the most social of creatures; and quite frankly, Sakusa was proud to be an outcast. But he wouldn’t bore you with the details.

“They’re all insufferable,” he mumbled.

You giggled. “How so?”

Sakusa pressed his lips together. There were many reasons to avoid covens; anxiety, petty politics, filth. Being around those who were just as disgusting as him – and who didn’t care about that. Who lived openly and freely as the monsters they were. Feeding on humans. Fighting amongst themselves.

Yes, covens sounded hellish.

But some part of him feared that maybe it was because he was afraid of connecting. Of reaching out. Of being seen – seen as the abhorrent creature that he was. To be around other vampires, to partake in their way of life, meant finally, truly facing the fact that he was a monster. That he was so, so far away from the human world.

From your world. You, who was sitting here with your hand wrapped around his.

“Why are you doing this?” He murmured, staring into the fire. The fireplace had been merely decorative until today. But he hoped that it was bringing you some warmth. He couldn’t tell how cold these early hours of the morning were. Everything was cold, to him.

“Doing what?” You asked, tilting your head at him.

He frowned. “Being so… so…”

He couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t shape them.

But you understood. He could tell, from the gentle look in your eyes.

“I want to get to know you,” you hummed, smiling at him.

He wanted to tell you that was foolish. That you were wasting your time. That he didn’t deserve you. But he had a feeling you would refute all of those points. That you’d smile and tell him that none of those things mattered. You were such a strange human.

“And,” you murmured, looking down at your entwined hands with a touch of red on your cheeks, “this might be selfish of me, but… I want to see you smile.”

And you got stranger. Every time you open your mouth, you would say something so odd. But it’s not unwelcomed.

He thought that you were something like the sun.

You gave off a certain warmth; the type that begot growth. It was a warmth that others could flourish in, that would give them the love and care that they needed. Perhaps this was the closest he would ever come to sunlight again.

Maybe he was ready to welcome the sun.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa imagines #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuucreations #my first sakusa piece fdslfdlkfj #i hope i did alright