firinghand-blog

[firinghand-blog]

“Rohan Kishibe,” he repeated the name and it rolled off of his tongue smoothly. “An artist? That’s cool. I...uh, used to be a law student. Circumstances caused me to drop out--but if you ever need help, I’m your man I guess.”

Of course those circumstances were very unlikely for a person from a different universe to understand, however, Raynold interpreted them as ordinary and wasn’t at all surprised. If something were to occur, similar to the invasion in his world, in this afterlife--he would hardly be phased.

(He was more phased by this feeling of relaxation, truth be told.)

“But, er...Rohan, can I call you that? Y-you’re Japanese, right? Sorry for making an assumption--but I don’t want to be rude,” he nervously laughed as he continued, “do you know why I feel this feeling of ease in my chest?”

Contrary to his previous assumption, maybe this person did have an ounce of decency in him. (Certainly a helpful trait to have in everyone) A little rough around the edges, but there have been worse people to deal with in the mangaka’s past; brutal honesty seems to be fairly tolerable in his own experience.

He grasped the outstretched hand before him into his own in a firm handshake, without making much physical indication as to whether or not their change in proximity bothered him, “It’s fine, you were on your guard, so I can see why you’d react in such a way.”

And now, how should he introduce himself? This person, Raynold, he seems to be…white (and not much of a manga sort of person) . Not as if white people didn’t read manga; the only major language his own Pink Dark Boy wasn’t translated into was English, but it didn’t look like it affected European sales much.

But there’s always a more suitable way to word things depending on the person and the circumstances, sometimes.

“Rohan Kishibe. I’m an artist.”

[firinghand-blog]

I need to buy eggs, milk...uh. Cracke--

A cheerful, masculine voice pierces the barriers of his thoughts--and Raynold addresses the interruption in question by turning around to face it.

The man, who appeared more boyish than masculine, was short and dainty--probably looking for directions. Even though the messenger had resided in this afterlife for quite some time, he could not assist anyone, even himself, with navigational problems.

“Uhh. . .” he begins, “I’m not very good with directions, if that’s what you need. I can try to help you, but I can’t guarantee success.”

                                ❝Excuuuuse me–❞

His tone comes off chime like, hoping to garner the attention of a man he presumes to be in his late twenties, well built, healthy, suitable. His hands are on his spell book, with a finger clamped between pages in replacement for a bookmark and another limb in the air waving around. The movement in his steps  are akin to a child skipping as he approaches the aforementioned male.

                                                              ❝Can you help me?❞

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[firinghand-blog]

Raynold turns around and sees a shorter male speaking to him--someone he has not met in the past. In addition, the stranger mentions a name he does not recognize. Was he supposed to know this person? If so, he felt bad.

“Err...am I supposed to know you?” he asks, puzzled.

@firinghand

That guy’s eyepatch looked awfully familiar to him, much like a certain white-haired eyepatch wearing outlaw. But this guy’s eyepatch was bigger and red, a pretty red. Much like the color of his own eyes.

“Your eyepatch is like Zero’s—” Corrin stops mid-sentence as he realizes, he just spoke out loud.

[firinghand-blog]

HE HELD HER HANDS TIGHT, WITH NO INTENTIONS OF LETTING GO. The guilt in his chest seemed to pile up even more so-- watching his savior cry tears of shame and misery. It would appear that his happy, guiltless heart would not prevail any time soon. Secrets were burdens, and he had selfishly given Nicolette one that she would hardly be capable of bearing.

The messenger fixed his position so he was sitting besides the somber deman, one hand holding her’s and another around her shoulder. Raynold squeezed her shoulder tightly, and leaned in to press his lips against the sobbing woman’s violet hair. A small “shhhh...” escaped his mouth as he closed his eyes.

He couldn’t bear seeing her like this.

Her tears, trickling onto his hands--they felt like an endless storm of knives that burned holes into his flesh.

The feeling was worse than what he had previously experienced. He attempted to muster words of encouragement from thin air, and words began to spill out of his mouth like a dam was opened.

“It’s...your--your presence is enough, Your Majesty. By being here--you remind me. You remind me of the reason why I am fighting. Fighting for the freedom of everyone from the horrible people, no... the horrible animal that tries to take over this precious land of your’s.”

Standing up, he offered a hand to his reminder and let out a thin smile.

“When I’m fighting, I’m fighting for your land and you. I decided this path myself--to spare you. My queen, you don’t have to protect me--because I will NEVER fall to those monsters until the day you decide I am no longer worth keeping around.”

“So please...stop weeping. I am thankful you are here by my side today.”

ɢᴜɪʟᴛ.

        SHE WATCHED HIM now as if he were a stranger — someone she’d only just met, and perhaps that was truly the case. Did she ever really know Raynold like she thought she did? From the very start, his intentions had been a mystery to her, and yet she had accepted him without an ounce of hesitation. How could she have been such a FOOL? How could she have believed, without question, that her decision to become a monster would be consequence free? She’d thought her GUILT and newly-found SELF-HATRED to be her punishment, but finally, the truth revealed itself. She’d put herself in mortal danger. She’d put her PEOPLE in danger, and worst of all… she had put RAYNOLD in danger. His exhaustion, his injuries, the scars that marked every inch of visible skin…

SHE HAD NONE BUT HERSELF TO BLAME.

Unable to hold his gaze, she turned towards the large expanse of land before them, hands grasping tightly at an ivory marble railing. Closing her eyes, she attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing pathetically. Her KINGDOM had not been meant for her. Her people had been nothing but pawns meant for slaughter. And her… the QUEEN, was the greatest pawn of all — for both ARES and RA. Neither of them were innocent, and in her eyes, they were both VILLAINS. The bitterness in her heart would be reserved for them, as they had attempted to play not only her, but Raynold too.

     ❝ The fate of the world… I see… ❞

Her words, nothing but a whisper, were all that followed Raynold’s desperate apology as she looked towards the sky. Was her living a CURSE? Was her death the only thing to save the world from terrible misfortune? Was it FATE? Could it be that her majesty had been born just to die? All this time, had she been been living in a fantasy? — blind to the suffering of all those around her? In the end, it was neither Raynold nor Ra that she could hate, but HERSELF. When she’d made her choice to become this, she had been unaware of the significance. She’d been wrong to assume it was the business of no one but herself, and because of that ARROGANCE, she had caused these problems. All because she was afraid.

She was a COWARD.

     ❝ You have suffered greatly… because of my shortcomings. All this time.         OH, RAYNOLD… ❞

As small, delicate fingers curled themselves into trembling fists, her eyes filled with tears. Raynold intended to kill her, and perhaps her greatest shame was the knowledge that she would have LET him. Even so, he’d disobeyed, for HER, and shunned his God. Throughout these long years, he’d protected not only her life, but her BLISSFULLY IGNORANT, CAREFREE lifestyle as well. It seemed she owed him far more than she’d even realized.

Finally looking at him, the sight she beheld pained her more than she would’ve liked to admit. She never wished to see Raynold on his knees like this, let alone speaking in such a broken, pitiful tone. It wasn’t like him to be so out of character. She wanted nothing more than to see him grin in that over-confident way of his, and to hear the laugh that all music PALED in comparison too. She had caused this. Nicolette had caused Raynold to be like this. Releasing a quiet sob she fell to her knees before him, taking both his hands tightly in hers, pulling them close to her heart, palms flat against a heaving chest, and WEPT.

     ❝ Oh, Raynold! I have FAILED you! If I had only known, but you kept me so         blissfully unaware! Because of my selfishness… my COWARDICE, you         were on your own all this time… fighting alone… suffering alone… I’m sorry,         Raynold. I’m so sorry! I do not wish to see you so distraught, bowing before         me like this… I wanted to protect that smile of yours, and these hands that         have protected ME all this time. But my weakness allowed not even THAT! ❞

[firinghand-blog]

A cat hardly frightened him. Although he was more of a dog person, Raynold could tolerate those furry beasts. He had seen some...er, larger cats (if they could even be called cats, they were more like monsters) in the forests of this land--so the creature before him hardly phased him.

He walked around the kitten, but right into a stranger. Stumbling back a bit, the messenger glared at the stranger who bumped into him.

“Sorry. Just watch where you’re goin’,” he muttered.

@firinghand

  Maybe making new friends would be easier if he weren’t so intimidating?   Toska is quite aware that his large horns and sharp teeth- hell even his claws. 

  When in Rome you have to do as…hmm..how does that go again? Oh well.   Toska, now a skinny regular squishy human. 

❛ Somebody’s cat had a terrible fright- ❜   Toska sung however when his eyes met the gaze of a stray beast (cat),   the troll went back to his normal attitude and glared at the eyes of the cat   as he walked around it bumping into someone else. 

❛ Stay back! ❜    How can humans bring themselves to keeping such evil things near them??

[firinghand-blog]

He ignored her prior comment as he realized that she knew about his mistake. Raynold froze in place and stared at her. “You knew but didn’t call me out on it!? Asshole!”

The knight let go of the shape-shifter’s hand as he looked behind him. That was impossible! There wasn’t even an indication that there was a hospital nearby.

“If you’re such a smarty-pants, take me to the hospital then! You gotta get treatment sometime soon!”

“There’s a first to everything, you know.” She was itching to point out that dying meant he did lose at something, but that would be a rather low blow, now.

“Okay, good to know you’re not going into a depressive monologue about it, but-” Another bout of coughing, “-it’s kind of depressing how you’re wandering in a circle trying to find the hospital that you passed right by.”

Any remorse or quiet reflection she had went right through the window as she gave a weak exhale of laughter ( to fail in preventing further coughing ), a mischievous ( and delighted ) grin clear on her face.

[firinghand-blog]

“You’re the one to talk?”

@firinghand

📱💌📱

“Don’t you think its a bit too hot to be wearing something like that? ”

[firinghand-blog]

“...” Well, that was a first. “Hah. I know they’re cool, but sorry man. They’re for me only.”

@firinghand

“Where did you get that sweet eyepatch? My goggles are great and all, but what if I could change my image once in a while…”

[firinghand-blog]

SHE WAS ALLOWED TO TRUST AS MUCH AS SHE WANTED, but trust was hardly enough.

As he stood on the balcony across from his Queen--his savior in the darkness, his eyes darted up and down her body nervously. Admitting that he had been hiding things from Nicolette, especially things of such importance, was treason.

The Crimson Knight was well aware that the female before him would never, on her life, charge him with such a crime--however, it felt wrong. Breaking the law, hiding things from the woman who gave him a reason to move on. . . it wasn’t right.

A small sigh escaped his swollen, cut lips as he turned to look at the kingdom before them. The moon shined brightly over the dark villages, and he felt his heart weigh him down. His eyebrows knit together and eyes closed. As he took a deep breath, he revealed his intentions for calling out his lady onto the balcony.

“. . .This kingdom was supposed to be for Ares.”

Without explaining himself, or allowing the other to speak, he continued.

“I wanted to stop Ares with Ra’s help so no one got hurt. But he said no. Y-you have to understand--he said it was the fate of the world. For Ares to take over your land. I couldn’t accept it. Letting all of these innocent people die or turn into demans? He said it was what he wanted. He told me it was the “way God would fix everything.” And I...I--”

“. . . Lucy wouldn’t have wanted that. No. No one would have wanted that in their right mind. He said the only way I could fix it. . . was to burn the castle and the Queen.”

Raynold turned, ashamedly, to face his savior. He made eye contact with her before tilting his head downwards. He could not bear her eyes--her eyes, oh how they looked so betrayed. So hurt that he had hidden the fact that he was to assassinate her in the past.

“I should have told you the moment I came in, the moment I looked at you with those eyes--begging for a home, a place to stay . . .for no reason at all. You accepted me without a single doubt. . . and yet, that entire time--all these hundreds of years, I have been hiding these secrets from you.”

He made no sense at all, as he rambled on and on. When he finally ceased, he got down on his knees and bowed--begging, once again like he had done so long ago, for forgiveness.

“. . . That’s why they were after you today, my Queen. They were trying to recapture the kingdom. That’s what they’ve been doing for the past thousand years. That’s why I’ve been protecting you. I--I’m so sorry.”

ɢᴜɪʟᴛ.

        APPEARING QUITE GUILTY she knelt before him and placed the silk fabric against his skin ( hands TREMBLING ), slowly scrubbing away the blood, dirt and grim as gently as possible. Before long her fingers, along with the cloth, were stained black and red, though she seemed content with results. This continued on in silence for a long while, and by the time she was finished, they both seemed exhausted. Blood soiled just about everything now including the tools strewn upon the table, her hands and even her nightdress.

With a sigh, she began to sterilize what could be re-used and discard whatever couldn’t before packing it all away in the box from which it came. Eventually, that too returned to where it belonged, waiting for the inevitable day it would once again be used to ( UNDOUBTEDLY ) save Raynold’s ephemeral life. She loathed to think he would once again sit in the very same chair she dared not touch yet refused to have thrown out, but even the Queen was not so FOOLISH.

Looking upon him once again, she offered but a weak smile, the RELIEF in her eyes positively suffocating. As dire as his injuries were, and though they would surely scar as the rest had, he was alive. He was alive and still with her, and for that, she could not be more GRATEFUL. And really…

The scars were just another part of him she could CHERISH.

     ❝ You really shouldn’t be up and about with your injuries, Raynold… ❞

Relaxing despite the apparent CONCERN evident in her voice, she nodded. Nicolette meant well, but she knew him enough to accept that he would not heed her warning. Especially now, when he seemed so solemn ( something else to cause DISTRESS ). Placing her smaller, more delicate hand in his, the Monarch followed her Knight out onto the balcony, shivering as both cool air and unease chilled her bones.

     ❝ It is just us here, now. There are no prying eyes or ears. What is it         you wish to speak about? ❞

All she could do was trust him — trust him and BREATHE.

[firinghand-blog]

“Huh. I guess so. I haven’t really thought of it that way, that’s cool,” he said as he raised his eyebrows in curiosity. He would have to go to a library and read a ton of ghost stories again, since he could hardly believe that ghosts could exist in a land such as this Hell.

Raynold listened to the girl as she softly spoke her few words--it seemed she chose her words very carefully, as if she had been trained unlike Raynold, who could speak without feeling like he was being judged every second. (Perhaps that was due to being a quiet, unsociable law student in his past...?)

“All of your life? Man. I don’t know how I would be able to handle that...” he frowned at the thought of seeing his mother’s ghost after finding her body on the floor--it would be an unpleasant experience indeed. Trying to shake him out of his negative thoughts, he extended a hand to finally introduce himself to the girl.

“Ah yeah. I never said my name. Raynold Berger. What’s your’s?” 

That … actually was a good question. How had she taken pictures of the spirits? Or rather, how could she still see them? This was the afterlife, that was obvious but for spirits to still exist? When Miu accidentally touched one, her hand went though - normal spirit / ghost. But still, how did they still exist here? “…They don’t have a body to inhabit unlike us.” That was all she could think of really. Miu herself didn’t believe her own words.

Taking the camera back, she instinctively double checked it - after all, the camera itself didn’t belong to her but to Hisako-san. “I guess. I’ve been around spirits for all my life so…”

[firinghand-blog]

IC WORD ASSOCIATION.

read the word then type the first word that comes to your character’s mind

REPOST, don’t reblog.

tagged by: @nicawlette​

Rough: Fighting

Hide: Fears

Foolish: Death

Sad: Mother

Hate: Ares

Light: Lessa

Dark: Lessa

Mother: Stolen

Father: Murdered

Child: Innocent

Marriage: Desirable

Love: Difficult

Soft: Bed

Pet: Marcus (dog)

Dream: Past

Divorce: Unfortunate

Water: Necessity

Loud: Screams

Announcement: RUN

Power: Achieved

Fight: Required

Smack: Inadequate

White: Purity

Sick: Demans

Kiss: Savior

Hug: Desperation

Hurt: Inevitable

Happy: Freedom

 Tagging @multifxceted, @inhabae, and @manuscriptures

[firinghand-blog]

“I trusted you!”

SCANDALOUS!! Bodyguard/rich daughter AU

For some reason, every where Raynold went, his boss’s daughter (that he was in charge of protecting), would follow him around. Even when he was off, she would take her substitute bodyguard and make him take her to wherever Raynold was going. Rich people were weird.

Today was Raynold’s day off, so he decided to hit the gym near his apartment. Fortunately for him, Nicolette decided to tag along with her substitute. In order to make the poor guy’s life a little easier, Raynold told him to wait out in the car or go get a coffee--he would call him when he moved locations.

He then did his daily one hundred push ups while occasionally taking a glance at his boss’s daughter.

Even though she was younger than him by four years--she was an eighteen year old senior in high school while he was just a twenty-two year old loser--he couldn’t help but think she was pretty. Her hair framed her face perfectly, her boobs were just the right size, and her little giggles made his face turn a light shade of pink.

When they locked eyes, Raynold stopped doing his push ups for a quick moment, before looking back down at the ground and continuing. Did she catch me staring...? Oh god. What if she tells her dad? I’m fuckin’ fired! Just two more push ups and I can...I can leave so we can just put this all behind us.

“Ninety-nine...one hundred.”

Raynold rose from his spot on the mat after completing his set, and turned to see Nicolette, ass bent up and going through her bag.

Whoa. Her ass is nice--

and conveniently, she turned around to see him drooling at her butt.

I hate my life.

“It’s not what it looks like, Ms. Nicolette.”

With a joking “I trusted you!” from the other while Raynold was panicking--thinking he would get fired, she came closer and whispered something dirty in his ear. He seemed to lose it as he sighed, cheeks still red.

“You shouldn’t say those vulgar words either--...ah. Fuck it.”

He looked at his watch and nodded slyly. It seemed like he had determined something as he grabbed Nicolette’s hand and lightly dragged her towards a room labelled “CLOSET.”

“We’ve got time. Let’s go somewhere so you can show me what you’ve got, girlie.”

[firinghand-blog]

“Everything hurts, Raynold. I feel woozy.”

College Roommates AU

EVERY TIME Raynold was persuaded by his apartment roommate to go partying, he would get headaches and annoyed by the rowdiness of these college students. He was in a fraternity just like many of the boys at this place, but he hardly participated in the parties (since he knew illegal things were involved) and instead helped them deal with their finances and law cases. It was good practice for a future law student.

In any matter-back to parties, the male often found himself leaning against the wall and drinking soda--not alcohol like his hyper friend, and watching the crowd grind with their hips and think with their private parts.

In addition to watching the crowd, he made it his duty to protect Nicolette from a distance (since he made himself promise to never let her get hurt)--watching her get and grind on attractive ladies and men, made him slightly jealous and want to pull her out of there. But he was not a party pooper, so he laid low and waited for her to come back.

After what seems like eternities of watching her (in reality, it was about four hours--he had been standing in the same place from 10PM to 2AM save for breaks for the bathroom and more soda), she finally crawled back to him, ready to go home. She landed with a flop on the floor in front of him, whining about how everything hurt.

“...You’re drunk,” he observed as he leaned over and picked up the more-than-tipsy girl, “obviously everything feels awful. You probably have a BAC of over one million. Let’s get you home. You’re lucky I’m such a nice person.”

At red lights, as they drove home, Raynold couldn’t help but glance at the sleeping drunkard beside him.

She’s kind of cute when she’s quiet.

[firinghand-blog]

Written For you

Small starter meme.

Fluff//Romance “I’m doing this for you.” “You know you’re my one and only.” “I’m in love with you.” “I’ve always loved you.” “You’re the most important thing in the world to me.” “Forever and always.” “You’re my sunshine.” “I appreciate you.” “You’re so cute.” “You’re the most beautiful girl/boy I’ve ever seen.”

Secrets//Lies “I’m jealous of you.” “I’m in love with you, idiot.” “I never loved you.” “I don’t really like _____.” “You’re my hero.” “I’m in love with ____. Don’t tell them.” “I’ve never lied to you.” “I was using you.”

Angst “You don’t give a damn about me.” “Stop lying.” “Stop pretending.” “Get the hell away from me.” “I thought you loved me.” “I trusted you.” “You promised me!” “I needed you.” “I can never trust you again.”

Pain//Blood “You hit me.” “You shot me.” “You stabbed me.” “I’m bleeding.” “Everything hurts.” “I feel woozy.” “You’ve lost so much blood.” “You’re covered in blood.” “There’s so much blood.”

Flirty “You’re hot when you’re mad.” “Wanna come back to my place?” “You tease.” “You’re lovely.” “You look divine.” “How about a drink at my place?”

Innunendo “Do you like?” “Does that feel good?” “Give it to me.” “I like it rough.” “I have something to show you.” “Harder! Just like that!” “I’ve got a present for you.”

NSFW//Kink “Be a good girl.” “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.” “Push me down.” “Make it hurt.” “I wanna fill you up.” “Pull my hair.” “Choke me.” “You’ve been naughty, you need a spanking.” “Take it all the way in.”

[firinghand-blog]

Not-doing-too-good sentence starters

“Whoa, are you okay?”

“You took that hit pretty hard…”

“Don’t stand up yet.”

“That definitely looks broken…”

“Walk it off.”

“How are you feeling?”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“You look like shit.”

“Have you been eating enough?”

“Here, let me help you.”

“Why are you limping?”

“You’re really pale…”

“Did you just go throw up?”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“______? You’re bleeding…really bad.”

“That looks infected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

“I told you you’d get sick.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Wake up–you were hyperventilating, are you okay?”

“It was just a dream, you’re alright.”

“Look at me–you’re safe.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Are you bleeding?!”

“How’d you get a bruise like that?”

“What happened?”

“Let me help you!”

“Can you hear me?”

“You hit your head pretty hard.”

“Don’t move.”

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

“Breathe.”

[firinghand-blog]

“Huh?” He hadn’t even noticed the small cub besides the purple-haired girl. He was truly the most oblivious messenger of Ra out of all of them. Still puzzled, he asked the other, “...what are leopards? Where are they from? I’ve...never heard of one before.”

“I believe it is. A leopard from what I’ve noted, just like Alexios here.” She motioned towards the small cub sitting at her feat who stared at him with his dark eyes.

[firinghand-blog]

UNFORTUNATELY, he was lost (as well).

Short and Bitter

          He was lost beyond all hope.

                                                                                     @firinghand