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sakkiichi · 8 months

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CASTLES CRUMBLING.

Memories of you are both cathartic and painful when he visits your grave.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Lyney, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: angst.

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✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

Autumn. The time of year that brought warm memories to the wandering samurai despite its chilly winds.

Shades of scarlet coated Inazuma’s grassy plains, like a rain constituted by droplets of dawn light when the maple leaves swayed to the ground.

And amidst this scene, you.

You, who danced to the tune of the foliage floating in the breeze; you, who snuggled his red scarf closer around your neck when he wrapped it around you, taking in his sweet cinnamon-like scent; you, whose hand used to fit perfectly in his, as you ran your thumb over the scarred skin under his bandages.

Kazuha finds himself staring at those now. He remembers all too well how you used to wrap them around his hand. Your lips brushed over every indentation in his burnt skin, overwriting storms with sunlight and blue skies.

“All healed now.” You sing-sang, the tenderness of your kiss over the wrapped scars.

It feels empty now, his grasp, still searching for you every morning, but you’re out of reach.

Even now, as the wandering poet’s head rests against you, he can’t quite feel your touch.

“Hello, my dove.” He begins, fingers brushing over the dendrobiums surrounding you. Moondust lashes kiss his cheeks when the sunsets in his stare cloud over, the image of your smiling face behind his lids. “It’s already autumn, remember how you called it our season, my angel?” He softly says, turning his head slightly, so that his forehead partially leans on you. “The leaves are turning red already, I’ve picked some for you.” Kazuha utters, as he gently threads them around the stone.

Hard. Cold. So unlike the warmth you radiated. He sighs, opening his eyes, tender hearths to warm your paralyzed heart.

“I’ve been writing too…” Dampness pools around his lashes. “Haikus, poems, because I know you love them, hummingbird…” The samurai’s voice cracks, vision blurry, as he traces the letters of the name he used to breathe in between kisses.

Your name. The only one that will forever echo through his sweetest dreams, double edged now.

Droplets of molten moonlight slide down Kazuha’s cheeks, colliding with the earth separating you from the world.

“We will meet again, my dove.” He vows, kneeling on the grass, moist by his tears. “In some corner of the next life. I promise, love.”

As he stands up, retracing his steps, the wind picks up.

Kazuha clutches his red scarf closer to him.

Your scent still lingers.

✧ XIAO

Spring had never felt so cold.

The sun over Liyue’s mountains is too dull; the glaze lilies appear closed off; the days feel too long.

The conqueror of demons makes his way through Guili Plains, his steps slow, as if that would keep away a cruel reality that’s set in stone.

He’s coming to meet you, and yet he’s never felt so far away from you.

In the few steps that separate the yaksha from you, an infinity of memories and bittersweet dreams seem to wash over him. They mingle with the scent of morning dew over qingxins bloomed anew.

Qingxin. What he used to call you.

“Xiaooo!” You cooed, a smile sweeter than the treat you offered him alight on your lips. “Dessert’s ready, love.” You called, offering him the plate of delicious almond tofu.

It was always his favorite, especially the one made by you.

His cheeks took on a tint not unlike the lipstick marks you left on him when you felt like teasing him, peppering his face with your honeyed kisses. You always used to chuckle at the sight.

“Qingxin…” his voice quivered, in awe, gaze of gold widened, sparkly. “There is no need for you to go through this trouble for me…”

“Nonsense!” You cut him off, hands cradling his cheeks. “I love making your favorite food for you, baby.”

Now he brings one of his own scarred hands to his face.

It’s so cold in comparison to your comforting warmth.

Yet even colder is the grey hue of the heavy stone that comes into view: the one marking the spot where you were laid to rest for good.

Slowly, resigned to the inevitability of reality, the vigilant yaksha reaches you.

Even though he knows he will no longer have you.

Xiao’s whole form trembles when he leaves the handmade butterfly over your gravestone. Its petal wings are all crooked, his grip vice-like in his anguish.

Now the flower-made insect will never fly again. A crystal bubble, lit up on his darkest nights, inside which dreams warm and sweet were recounted, as long as the adeptus stayed in your embrace; now shattered, only sharp fragments left to pierce his heart.

“I’m sorry…” is all the demon conqueror can manage as greeting, the moment he sits before you, head hung low.

The karma he bears had never crushed him this badly.

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Winter squalls leave nothing but ashes behind.

The layers of snow have started melting, decrepit twigs following, the aftermath of a furious gale, death in its wake.

The wanderer seems to verse in the bony hands of it often, after all. This life, this world… they only ever took from him, shattered mirrors as the only remains of promises to never come.

He rests the back of his head on the frigid stone. He doesn’t care about the last remains of snow seeping into his very crafted bones.

Scaramouche’s hand closes into a fist, dirt and melted ice on his skin.

“They took you away too…” The puppet breathes, inexistent puffs of his words sifting against the blackened skies in the cold. His indigo gaze is clouded over, despite stars littering every corner of the midnight above.

A lie.

Make believe. Like thinking he could be happy for once.

Turning around, Scaramouche presses his forehead against what’s left to symbolize you.

“Why?” He asks, teeth gritted, to stop the helpless quiver of his lip. “Why you too?”

The softness of your human embrace takes ahold of his memories, as you both lay beneath the endless firmament above.

“Have you ever wished upon a star, Kuni?” You asked, your warm fingers combing through the distant nights contained in his shiny locks.

“Pft, are you serious?” He used to retort, the mirrored galaxies of his stare coming into view as his eyelids opened.

“Very.” You stated, without stopping your movements, eyes never leaving the starfields above.

“Why?” He asked, focused on your profile, as if a part of him knew how ephemeral instants like this would become, committing to memory the only constellation that lit up his hollow heart.

“Because it’s nice, to hope, to believe in things… wouldn’t you agree?” You smiled down at him, tender hands cradling the coolness of his jawline.

“Huh, if you say so…”

“You know I’m right!” You chuckled, poking his cheek playfully, his nose scrunching up in feigned annoyance.

“Ugh, whatever.”

“Make a wish?” Your fingers found his in the night breeze, entwining together, the warmth of a small sun just for him.

“Fine…” He sighed, closing his eyes, lashes of concealed dreams leaning on his perfect cheekbones.

“I wished for forever with you.” He croaks out now.

An almost god brought to his knees by the treacherous fate written in devious stars.

His vision blurs, headed skyward, the universe above, a multitude of molten wildfires to him, raining down in flammable rain, his own tears the match to ignite them.

The failed god weeps. Winter burns.

✧ LYNEY

“You never know what can happen in the blink of an eye.”

Those were the words the magician once uttered, as your eyes lit up in wonder. He believes to recall it was a summer night, when his dusky gaze set on you for the first time.

Beaming and shining with excitement, you marveled at his sleight of hand, as the lumidouce bell on the performer’s hand vanished, only for its petals to have tinted in rosy shades of rainbow when the bloom next appeared in your hair.

If anyone had told Lyney, in that moment, that you’d end up putting his heart under spell, he wouldn’t have quite believed it.

But thinking back on it now, the time spent next to you certainly feels like mere seconds.

A peculiar figure sporting a top hat makes his way towards Fontaine’s graveyard.

His steps are monotone, the usual cheshire-like grin on his visage is nowhere to be seen, and in his hands, flowers abound.

Lumidouce bells.

The color of goodbyes, separations.

And the summer nights under which he used to kiss you.

“Please, Lyney! I want to see another one!” You begged, hands clasped together, eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

Your lover hums, his gaze, the backdrop against which the sunsets in your stare sparkled.

“Well, mon coeur,” the magician leaned forward, “I’ll have to charge you for it this time, you know.”

You pouted, marcotte colored lips irresistibly sweet, a bite of sugary peach in the heat of an early midsummer’s night.

“Close your eyes, my rose.” Lyney breathed, in the little dusk-lit millimeters separating you two.

“Okay.”

Warmth flooded around him the instant his lips enveloped yours, akin to fairy lights in the coziness of a familiar room, fiery arrows that linked two hearts. Your lover’s hands cupped your jawline, spells written in the caress of his gloved touch over your skin.

A new breed of magic, with the sun dipping behind the nation of hydro’s mountains to give the lovers privacy.

When he next opens his eyes, the allure has faded.

No trace of you remains, save for the emptiness and cold beside him.

And the only nightmare he can’t undo; your tombstone all too palpable, too real.

“You really never know how everything can change in the blink of an eye, huh?” Lyney utters, his voice raw, hoarse.

Despite the lumidouce bells’ petals shifting from dusk to dawn the moment he lays them to rest over you, the magician feels like he’s shooting arrows made of shadows; there’s no fiery beacon to light up this night.

The curtain closes when he steps away, rainbow roses bleeding and lonely in his wake.

The sun has set.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Off-key birdsong and steely skies.

Those are Fontaine’s Chief Justice’s companions today.

Alone, he sits next to the ghost of someone he used to adore.

Someone he still loves.

Crystalline amethyst eyes scan the horizon. Even the seas seem turbulent today, relentless waves colliding against jutting rocks, as if by persistence alone they could cut through them.

The wailing ocean mirrors Neuvillette’s actions; as if by staring in the distance, he could somehow conjure you up back into the world, on forgotten dreams and pieces of flashbacks alone.

“It looks like it will rain soon, my dearest.” He softly says, the words lost in the monsoon overcasting the heavens.

Naturally, no answer follows, except for the agonized cry of a fallen sparrow.

The Iudex of Fontaine sighs. An upheaval in the blowing mistral combs through his hair, the sensation unlocking the pages of a diary once rose-colored, now only scattered petals over a lake that’s gone still for good.

“Isn’t the weather so nice lately, Neuvi?” You chirped, knees folded over the azure flowerbeds. Your hands were carded through your lover’s long locks, silver seafoam running almost hypnotizingly between your fingers.

Sunbeams glittered all around you when his eyes opened up to you, enigmas from the depths being laid bare for you alone.

“It is, darling…” He trailed off, one of his hands touching the side of your face, eliciting giggles from you.

Pink dusted over the pallor of his cheeks whenever you did that.

If only all days could be sunny, if only he could have kept the symphony of your laugh forever playing…

The sea’s surface turns charcoal, undulating with the low whistling of uprising gales.

Dark spots start appearing over the stone where your name’s been eternally put to sleep.

Beneath the blindfold, Justice mourns.

It’s raining again.

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r0ttenhearts · 21 days

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longing stare

kazuha x situationship! ex! reader

sypnosis: after two months of no contact, kazuha appears back on beidou’s ship, looking for you.

warnings: angst, mean kazuha, cheating, situationship, suggestive content

“kazuha?”

the white haired samurai noticed the slight hitch in your breath as you stared, wide eyed. you looked the same as he remembered, your hair only being a few inches longer.

your features seemed healthier, you seemed happier. kazuha’s gentle smile only confused you as you stood there. you never thought you’d see him so soon, much less again. kazuha beckoned you towards the side of the ship. the boat rocked gently with the waves as you followed kazuha to the side. he leaned against the side while you stood there stiffly next to him.

“it’s been awhile, (y/n). you’re still with the crux? i thought you would’ve been onto your adventures in fontaine by now.”

you winced at the memory of a past dream you shared with him, “i decided to stay. this place felt more like home than there.”

you laughed dryly, “and you came back. why? was miss kamisato not promising enough for you?”

memories of the night you found out about them still laid as burning scars. scabbed over, but with the lightest scratch they’d be open again.

kazuha had been lying to you about his past relationship with the young lady of the kamisato clan. he had first introduced her as his friend, but not that he was once in a relationship with her. you found letters from ayaka in his small trunk he kept in his part of your shared closet. he reassured you they were old until you found another letter hidden away in the pocket of one of his haori coats. this letter was a detailed confession of how deeply ayaka felt for him and the words he told her.

your confrontation of the letter was the last memory you had with the samurai. his soft mumbled apologizes weren’t enough to keep him in the door. you were done, he no longer had a home with you. so he stayed in inazuma for two months.

kazuha gently shook his head. “i’ve been thinking about you, dove.” you shook your head at the familiar nickname.

“you shouldn’t call me that, kazuha.”

kazuha stood up from against the ships side, taking one of your hands, holding them in his. “i missed you more than anything. you were my calm in the storm, you silenced the torment in my heart. i see how i have wronged you, and i am so very sorry for my betrayal. it was my fatal mistake, my dear.”

you shook your head, your chest tightened with every word. “why now, kazuha? why didn’t you say that back then, that night?”

kazuha mumbled soft words of apologies, his gentle touches on your shoulder as you wept about how unworthy and undeserving you had once felt for him.

“i never did anything with her, my love. those two months i spent in inazuma weren’t spent with her. i was wandering the streets of the city, trying to put myself back together after the mistake i made that pushed you from me.” you nodded gently at his words, your tear streaked cheeks being wiped by his bandaged fingers.

kazuha would spend the night in your room, making up for the time he had lost. he worshipped you that night, holding you close to him as if he’d lose you once again.

you found him the next morning in the same spot where he apologized to you. a cup of tea was warming his hands as you came to stand next to him. “good morning, dove.”

you smiled gently at the familiarity of this scene, this is how you would spend mornings with kazuha before the breakup.

“good morning, my dear samurai. what adventures await us today?” you asked him teasingly.

kazuha’s bandaged arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. “don’t worry your little head about such matters, let’s enjoy the day in each others company.” kazuha planted a kiss on the top of your head before turning back into your room. you chased after him and spent another day together. he wrote you a haiku and brought out his paint brushes. you created a beautiful painting of the autumn leaves and inazuma’s terrain. everything felt perfect. just as it had before everything left you once before.

but you knew better than to trust a man that had betrayed you. it had only been a week of kazuha being back that you noticed how he now flinched from your touches. he wouldn’t sleep next to you or in the same room anymore, disappearing all night somewhere on the ship. his soft words of affection and endearing nicknames had stopped as well. he now only called you by your name.

you still remembered the last night he spent with you before turning cold. he had brought up how he missed warming your bed at night, burying himself inside of you. his whines to complete himself inside of you were finally heard, his scarred body retracting immediately as he finished. “where are you going, kazu?” you’d called out softly as he shrugged his kimono back on. “i’ll be back soon, dove.” he spoke coldly as he left you.

but his warmth never returned. he spent most of his time with beidou and the others on the ship. if you arrived he wouldn’t even pretend to acknowledge you.

a deep sinking feeling that was all too familiar enveloped you once again. kazuha was acting the same way he did two months ago. but this time you wouldn’t let him get away with it. get away with breaking your heart for a second time.

after some liquid courage from beidou, you found kazuha against the front of the ship. he was watching the waves, a familiar bottle in his hands. “hello, (y/n). come to watch the waves?”

you shook your head, tearing the bottle from kazuha’s grasp. “what’re you playing at kaedehara?”

kazuha shrugged his shoulders, “i don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“you know exactly what i mean kazuha. you can’t just be all close to me, tell me you love me, share a bed with me, and then go all cold in only a few days. i forgave you for that kamisato girl, i forgave you for everything. so why? why are you doing this to me?”

kazuha’s expression didn’t change from his usual demeanor, “we’re moving too fast, (y/n). we should take things slow. i was afraid to tell you, i admit. but i think we should just be friends.”

it felt like every archon had cursed you in that moment. the buzzing of the alcohol couldn’t hide the immense ache in your chest as you stood there, watching how kazuha seemed so unfazed by the fate he had declared for you both. you gave yourself to him, something you never allowed him to do when you were together previously. but this time had to have been different, right?

“okay.” you spoke with a low voice as kazuha turned his attention back to the dark sea. your stumbling footsteps carried you back to your room, sobs erupting from your mouth. you gave yourself to him, and all he could offer you now was friendship.

as you laid there in the dark, you realized how wrong you had been. and how wronged you now felt. two months ago was supposed to have been your biggest betrayal from kaedehara kazuha, not now.

with this new realization in your heart, you could no longer call the crux your home. as the night went on you had gathered all of your things, writing beidou a goodbye as well as a thank you note.

the ship docked in sumeru early in the morning, and you made sure to be off the boat within the first hour. with a rushed goodbye, you gave beidou the letter, as well as one for kazuha. you would get to fontaine. you would build a new world for yourself. one far away from the samurai you could no longer call home.

a/n: situationship/being an ex of a kazuha main HURTS i wouldn’t wish it on anyone

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @somatchajade @dearsumire @saeism @jaderose18 @0kauy @lelemnh @linkookie197 @xiaonscaraswife @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @kenmabfasf @jihyuniepark @chiisananingen @just-anotherbookworm

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha angst #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha

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fiber-optic-alligator · 4 months

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Desperation vs. Domestication

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 3161

Summary: Trapped aboard the Lost Light and chosen by a certain red-and-white samurai mech as the perfect sapien companion and tasty snack, you decide to form a rudimentary plan on possibly escaping your robot captors and finding your way back to Earth…while also realizing that spending months living as a pet has messed with your judgment on a greater scale than you previously realized.

This is based off of an ask I saw on Relic’s blog about what might happen if a human trapped aboard the Lost Light tried to escape via an escape pod, and I liked the idea so much that I had to write something based off of it. This is my first time writing for the Tasty Au and the First Contact Au and I must say I am quite happy with the result. This is inspired by Callsign-Relic’s Tasty Au, obviously, and I am so utterly fascinated with the whole concept, as well with First Contact scenarios in general, that this certainly won’t be my last time writing about this sort of thing. Thank you all for reading and thank you to @callsign-relic for giving me permission to write about it!

Also available to read on AO3!

Here is the link to pt. 2!

Sticky globs of synthetic saliva coat your shivering body as you are carefully slipped out of the massive mech’s cerulean mouth. The red-and-white bot nuzzles you gently with his nose, cooing to you in soft alien words. You don’t understand his language; to your ears, he speaks with the purr of a car engine, the rumble of machinery, the smooth hum of something distinctively much, much bigger than you. And yet, after months of being trapped aboard this titanic starship, surrounded by these massive extraterrestrial robots that have turned your life upside down, you’ve come to comprehend some simple, short phrases your mech typically only says to you: Good. Proud. Love you.

You hate how you lean into his touch. You hate how you cling to these few words you can translate. You hate how your heart softens for him as he sets you down on his desk and begins to clean you up, rubbing his saliva off of you with a towel. You protest softly when he smushes you gently with both hands, struggling feebly before you reluctantly give up and go still. He chuckles deeply and shushes you. “Shhh, shhh….Safe…Safe.”

After a few minutes, he nods to himself, satisfied with his work. You stare at him with the deadpan look of a cat who was just dumped into a bathtub while he retrieves a fuzzy blanket from his bed and wraps you up in it snugly. The part of you that still clings to your autonomy wants to scream and shove his fingers away when he slowly rubs your scalp. It wants to curse him out and tell him you despise him, how you are traumatized because of him and the rest of his kind.

And yet, you can’t.

You know he won’t understand you. You know you’ve developed feelings for him in your weak, pathetic heart. Your bot cares for you. It is obvious in the way he treats you, and you can tell it’s gone beyond seeing you as a pet. He calls you sweet. Little one. He’s never hit you, never yelled at you, and actually respects your boundaries when you express them…sometimes. There are some days where you have clearly shown you don’t want to be eaten. He listens. Those days are few, but they happen regardless. You can’t help but sympathize with him. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, call it delusion, but you are at war with yourself, one side begging you to resist, the other side wishing to submit and accept the role you have been forced into.

Your mech scoops you up. For a good minute, he simply holds you, purring deeply while he traces circles against your back with his thumb. It feels good, and you hate that it does. His heavy rumbles are soothing. Despite what one might think, being eaten, massaged by a mechanical stomach for hours, and then regurgitated is an exhausting experience to go through. You find fatigue tugging at the back of your mind while your eyes flutter shut and you yawn.

The mech coos. “Sleep,” he whispers to you, his voice smooth as honey. “Sleep.”

If this were your first time, you would have fought it. But it’s not your first time, and you know resisting will get you nowhere closer to escaping. Darkness pulls you into its embrace with the glow of his eyes flickering in the background until it too fades away. It doesn’t take long for you to give in.

His name is Drift. That’s the first thing you think when you wake up. His name is Drift, and he saved you from the first set of robots that plucked you from your home and carried you off into space, saving you from one personal hell and thrusting you into another. It did not matter if this particular hell was a rather comfortable one. It was hell regardless. To have your sense of self snatched away from you, to be reduced to nothing more than a pet and a snack, to know you are possibly light years away from Earth and you are utterly alone here is enough to drive you insane.

You sit up slowly and groan, running a hand through your tousled hair. You're still wrapped up in the blanket Drift gave you, and you're resting on his berth. It’s covered with more blankets and even pillows, all courtesy of the mech who has done what he can to make your life here as comfortable as possible. The lights are dimmed. Drift is nowhere to be seen. He must have had some other matters to attend to and decided to give you a moment of solitude while you were resting. It was considerate of him. The sympathetic side of you feels appreciation. All that’s left is relief he is not here to stuff you back into his maw.

Drift does not understand you. In his eyes, you are simply an adorable little creature he has adopted. He cannot speak your language, and you cannot speak his. No level of displaying your intelligence will ever prove to him that you are worthy of being considered a true person by him or the other mechs. Oh, he cares. You know he does. He’s not a bad guy. You’ve seen bad, and he’s a welcome change from it. But he will never view you as an equal. You are simply just an animal in his mind’s eye.

Your fists clench with subdued rage without you even realizing it at first. The frustration bubbles up and leaves a foul taste on your tongue. You’ve screamed. You’ve begged. You’ve done everything you can to show them that you do not belong here. But they don’t listen. He doesn't listen. You're too cute, too tasty. For the first time in your life, you truly wish you had it in you to be a violent person and live up to the horrible reputation humans have given themselves on their own planet. Maybe if you had the power to destroy like the rest of your kind can, the mechs would finally learn to respect you. But human beings only destroy what is theirs. And here? Not even you belong to yourself anymore.

“Damnit,” you whisper under your breath. You haven’t felt this level of helplessness in a long time. Your chest tightens, and hot tears trickle down your cheeks and drip off your chin. You close your eyes and grit your teeth as a low sob heaves up from your throat.

“I want to go home,” you say to no one in particular. There’s no one to hear you. Even the gods of your world are too far away to listen to your prayers. “Please. Please. I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

So why don’t you?

Your eyes fly open.

Wait.

There are escape pods on this ship.

You’ve only seen them once. Drift usually keeps you perched on his shoulder when he travels around the ship and tends to his duties. He’s walked by them before. They’re towards the middle of the vessel, all lined up in single file.

What if you were to steal one?

A plan begins forming in your mind. It’s stupid. It’s risky. It could cost you your life. But you're so scared, and you’ll do anything to relieve that fear. You could return to Earth…you could go home.

You look around Drift’s room, taking in how absolutely massive everything is compared to you. The escape pods will be the same. One single little human will have a hard time piloting it. But what other choice do you have? Sit here and live the rest of your life as a pet?

A part of you actually finds it tempting. But you can’t let that side of you win. You cannot allow yourself to slip into the stupor that is slowly breaking your spirit. You must keep fighting. You must take back what was stolen from you: your life.

Drift is not a stifling owner. He does not demand your attention 24/7. He understands you need your space, and usually, if you protest enough, he will simply coo at you understandingly and leave you in his room for a few hours while he leaves.

You come up with a plan. It’s not a particularly stable one, and there are way too many points where it could go horribly wrong. But you will go through with it anyway, because you don't know how much longer you can take this. You're desperate for release, frantic for an escape from this nightmare reality you are in. You will find a way back home. You can’t give up. You refuse to give up. You are a human being. You belong on Earth.

As much as your plan relies on Drift leaving you alone, it also depends on his presence too. It’s impossible to traverse this starship by yourself. To be seen without your mech companion would lead to some robotic stranger scooping you up and bringing you right back to square one.

So, you will have to trick Drift.

You will use the advantage of your harmless appearance and have him bring you to the escape pods. You could blast away right under his nose and he won’t even know it because his belief that you are just an innocent, adorable little thing who can barely think for yourself is just too strong.

Guilt flashes through you.

He has no way of understanding, a tiny voice whispers inside your mind. It’s not his fault there’s a language barrier between the two of you. He’s trying his best. He’s trying. Can’t you appreciate that?

He views me as a pet, you think back. He thinks I’m an animal. A snack. Is abandoning my will as a human being worth it if it means I please him?

Yes.

The realization makes your heart sink.

Are you really that far gone? Have you become that accustomed to your life here? Have…have you truly been broken in?

The soft whoosh of the room door opening interrupts your thoughts. Drift slips in on silent feet; you still don’t know how such a large mechanical creature can move so quietly. He doesn’t look at you, and instead trudges to the mirror attached to the wall opposite his berth with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging low. Through the reflection of the mirror, you can see him staring at himself with a complicated expression. His mouth tightens and his hand rises to slowly begin tracing the metal beneath his eyes. You watch, with growing concern, as he just…looks. He’s observing his features, taking in every scar, every dent in his armor, every sign of age.

He vents out a soft exhale. With a surprising amount of weariness, he takes his swords and places them on their display stand.

“Drift?” you call out to him.

He turns to focus on you. His eyes immediately soften, and his grimace uplifts into a tired smile.

He looks so much older than he really is.

Your heart twists painfully. All of your previous foul thoughts towards him vanish as your empathy takes over and you raise your arms to make grabby hands at him. This is a language anyone can understand: Pick me up please?

He wastes no time in obliging. Swords and reflection forgotten, he makes it to you in four long strides. Gentle fingers push the blanket aside and free you from your fabric burrito. They curl around you, holding you in his right palm while he slowly lifts you up and slips his left hand under to support you. You no longer feel the queasy flip of your stomach turning circles from the dizzying experience of watching the floor grow further and further away. That reaction was long lost with your time here.

He presses you to his chest. The metal is warm, and deep within, you can feel the steady beat of his heart. It thrums through your entire body and causes you to shudder with awe. This is an alien being, one you hardly understand. Yet, he has a heartbeat. It connects the two of you, in a way. As your heart begins to beat in tandem with his, you feel so small. Yet…it helps you feel for him all the more, because it proves he is alive.

After a few minutes of hugging you, Drift lifts you higher. The soft blue glow of his eyes washes over you as the mech observes your tiny face. There’s a moment when he pauses, and then his thumb caresses your cheek, lightly running over the stains decorating your skin from your previous bout of tears. His smile falls into a concerned frown.

“Little one?” he whispers. He knows what tears are. You’ve heard him cry himself to sleep some nights. So he must understand you are not in a particularly good headspace right now.

“Drift,” you whisper back. He whines when he hears how your voice trembles. With great sadness weighing his expression down, he brings you close and presses his lips gently to your forehead.

You automatically freeze, and your eyes widen in shock as you feel the slightly plush metal against your skin. It’s so…intimate. All too quickly, you melt into the embrace, closing your eyes as a fresh wave of emotion washes over you and threatens to unleash the waterworks again. You sniffle and cling to him. “I hate that I’m enjoying this,” you quietly say.

He hums in response and slowly pulls away. The smile he offers you is so sweet, it makes your heart skip. You feel like a foolish schoolgirl in love. It’s the wrong emotion for the wrong person in the most wrong scenario you could ever imagine, but it feels so right.

He leans back in, and you think you are going to receive another kiss. But then his mouth opens wider and you have a full display of the squishy segmented tongue that’s shifting in eager anticipation for the taste it desires: you. Strings of saliva connect between metal teeth as large as your head. Inside, there’s light that softly pulses with the same color as his eyes, and it runs all the way down into his throat, illuminating the journey you know you are about to take. Fear jumps through you. “Drift,” you say, pushing frantically at his fingers. “Drift, wait!”

“Shhhh,” he murmurs. There are some incomprehensible words that, to your ears, sound like the garbled slurs of a broken radio. Your mind works overtime to comprehend. “Little one…safe…comfort…”

Oh.

He wants to comfort you.

You feel absolutely disgusted with yourself when you bite your bottom lip and contemplate his request.

Unfortunately, Drift doesn’t give you a chance to decide whether to accept or not. Apparently, your tears are really worrying him. With one last reassuring purr, he delicately pushes you into his mouth. You yelp when his tongue curls around your little body to begin slicking you up for a smoother ride. Drift rolls you around carefully, tasting every inch of your exposed skin with happy hums of pure pleasure.

You want to fight off the large muscle and demand he open his mouth to release you. However, you know there is no point. He’s not listening to you today. He believes this is the only way to bring you the reprieve you need. So, you give in. You go limp and allow your mech to toy with you.

He presses you to the roof of his mouth and suckles gently. A low moan rumbles up from within him. You are delicious. You know you are delicious. The way he savors you both terrifies you on a raw, existential level, and also makes you feel…wanted, in a way. He wants you. He cares about you. This is just another way of him showing it.

Eventually, his tongue lowers, and everything goes tipsy as Drift tilts his head and begins to push you towards the back of his throat. You instinctively scrabble at the base of the biomechanical muscle, but you cannot stop yourself from sliding back. When you look behind you and see the pulsing metal waiting to slurp you down into its dark, wet confines, you want to scream.

“Glk.”

One gulp.

That’s all it took for Drift to swallow you.

It is extremely unnerving to be reminded of how small you are.

You are sucked into Drift’s throat with no resistance. The glow of his mouth sticks with you while you are squeezed downward from all sides by the soft, moist walls of his esophagus. You wriggle as much as you can, but it is virtually impossible to move due to how tight the passage is. You find yourself holding your breath as you close your eyes and try to remain calm while you listen to the steady sounds of his internal systems working to keep him alive: the heavy thudding of his heart. A rhythmic intake and outtake of air that is eerily reminiscent of human breathing. There are other low whirrs and hums you cannot identify as well. All consuming. All just for you to hear.

Space opens up beneath you, and you drop into his stomach with a wet plop. The organ gurgles, welcoming you back like an old friend. You bounce a little as the floor jiggles, then you find yourself sinking into the mesh metal. The walls close in, squeezing you, kneading at you, all while a melody of rumbles and groans fill the space. You pant, taking a moment to catch your breath as you lay on your back and stare up at the soft biolights all around you, filling the stomach with a comforting hue.

Something presses against you from the outside: Drift’s hand. Above you, the mech says something. His voice is soft, yet loud at the same time. You are utterly, completely surrounded by him. Locked away behind all of this metal, you truly feel like you are his.

For some reason, this is not as scary as it usually is.

You sit up and try to wipe saliva off of your face, but only succeed in smearing it all over you even more. Drift speaks again. “Little one?” His tone is urgent, worried. The stomach growls with nervous trepidation.

You crawl on your hands and knees to the organ’s wall. Sitting up, you press your hand into the wet muscle, watching as your fingers sink into the squishy grooves. “I’m okay, Drift,” you murmur. “I’m okay.”

You feel him relax all around you. Drift presses his hand right over where yours is and rubs you tenderly. You cuddle up against him and close your eyes, listening to your mech’s happy purrs, enjoying the feeling of being constantly massaged by his stomach.

It is warm.

You are warm.

You no longer want to cry.

Maybe…maybe you can put off your escape plan. Just for a little longer.

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kaladinkholins · 3 months

Text

Blue Eye Samurai characters as animals

First of all, let me just reassert my dog Taigen agenda.

Like I keep talking about it but this man really growls and barks like a dog, and yaps and follows Mizu around like a puppy.

I don't know much about dog breeds but my first thought was German Shepherd for Taigen. Typical guard dog you know? Fierce, aggressive, loyal, and very disciplined when trained.

Or maybe he'd be an Akita? Since that's a Japanese dog breed, and they're also large and powerful. They're quite similar to German Shepherds, not only in appearance, but they're also good as guard dogs and hunting dogs, though they're less predictable and not as family-friendly.

Also in Japanese folklore, dogs tend to be seen as auspicious guides and protectors that have the power to resist evil spirits and demons. Dog statues are often placed at city gates to ward off thieves and robbers. Ties back to guard dog behaviour lmao, and brings to mind how the Shogun praised Taigen's loyalty and specifically requested that Taigen be one of the people guarding him at his side.

Okay next, moving on, let's talk about cat Mizu, which I've also talked about before, but okay. Just look at this.

Neko Mizu my beloved.....!!! Scrunkly and scrungy. Graceful predators, introverted and mysterious, but feisty, unassuming little creatures of chaos. WILL scratch you without hesitation.

Also I think she'd specifically be a black cat, because of the prejudice towards black cats as "unlucky." Similar to how Mizu is discriminated against as people believe she's a "monster."

It's also interesting to note that cats have several different forms within Japanese folklore, from the deadly and malevolent nekomata, to shapeshifting bakeneko, to the waving figurine of the maneki-neko placed in shops to bring in prosperity. Some theorise that the diverse range of folklore stories regarding cats is related to how the species is not indigenous to Japan, which is also interesting when you recall that Mizu is mixed race.

I feel that she could honestly be any domestic black cat, but if I had to choose a specific breed, then I think she'd suit a Bombay. Very glossy black coats. Muscular but lean. Very panther-like. Only thing is that Bombays are known for their special copper eyes, but the fact that eye colour is a notable thing about their breed is also a very interesting parallel.

And I know I said in my previous post (linked above) that Ringo is the exhausted but loving caretaker of the two of them, but Ringo has an animal form too! He's a tanuki, also known as Japanese raccoon dogs! In folklore, they're silly little guys, happy and mischievous, a little absent-minded and goofy, but they're shapeshifting masters of disguise.

Also, in canon, Ringo literally lived with a family of tanuki during winter at some point in his life! He talks about this when he meets Mizu in the first episode. Image below is a concept of a deleted scene, courtesy of Brian Kesinger, the show's head of story.

Next, Akemi. Now, I know she has all that bird symbolism going on, but Mizu also had horse symbolism (due to her connection with her horse Kai). So, personality and design-wise, I don't think the symbolism has to necessarily match up. And with that said, I would like to propose another idea: I think Akemi is more like a fox!

Like I'm convinced she is in fact a beautiful kitsune in disguise. Because kitsunes in Japanese folklore are known to shapeshift into beautiful women, and are very elegant, cunning and intelligent, which seems a lot like Akemi to me!

So yeah that's it. They're a bunch of cute animals. The end.

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen blue eye samurai #ringo blue eye samurai #akemi blue eye samurai #there should be a tag for all 4 of them like as a squad or a found family ykwim #i cant think of a name for that rn though please reply or put in the tags if yall have ideas for that #more silly posts from me as i procrastinate wheeeeee #fandom.rtf #shut up haydar

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