Shadows and Sinners | A Striker x Reader Story

Yggdrasil

I carried Striker's knife with me after that. Keeping it at my hip, I wore it where any ill-meaning sinner could see. It felt reassuring, almost like I was carrying a piece of Striker with me. 

I realized I had begun to grow fond of the handsome imp. Despite his more brutal side, he was kind to me and respected my boundaries both as a woman and as a roommate. He never crossed the threshold to my room unless invited and had never touched me without permission. It was more than what I could say for most of the sinners here in Hell.

One evening I sat cross-legged on my bed, meditating. I was still early into my routine, mentally picturing a root stemming from my head reaching down into the Earth like the roots of Yggdrasil when a soft knock came from the doorway. I opened my eyes to see Striker standing there, looking at me with a confused expression etched on his face, "What are you doing?"

"Meditating," I replied, closing my eyes again.

"That thing that monks do?"

My eyes snapped open and I gave him a serious glare, "That's different. I meditate to ground myself with the Earth and her energy."

Then I got an idea. Patting the bed next to me, I added in a kinder voice, "Come here, I'll show you."