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thrall-of-the-hill-arch · 2 years

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SFBF - Week 1 - Jason & The Coven

@the-slasher-files

Prompts: Rope, teeth, size, blood

Key words: wicked, rain

TW: Blood, violence, kidnapping, manipulation, choking.

Jason is an OC technically, but heavily inspired/based off of Jason Voorhees and Ghost Face. Full bio available on my blog for clarification.

Covens were a strange social group, often formed by complementary abilities, less about social connection. Jason’s coven went a step further, having been built off of a mutual desire; a deep need to dive into a darker brand of magic. One only promised by ancient beings, requiring blood and sacrifice to prove their worth. The young man had been pulled into their clutch when he was a child, ripped from the cold hands of his mother and raised as a loyal guard. Meant to protect the woman from the town not far off and those foolish enough to step foot onto their part of the forest. The mask had been a secondary addition, in case there were witnesses he couldn’t get to immediately. So far, not a peep had been heard in town of the looming figure that stalked lost hikers or young teens wandering alone in the night. Missing persons reports were left open, families without answers, and police that couldn’t care less. If they decided to go into those woods, those people were on their own.

This went on for all of Jason’s adolescence, almost entirely without incident. But, a caged animal eventually tries its chains. The first major instance was when the young man turned eighteen, he was allowed a rare trip into town to buy a few sweets. The witches had gone far enough to allow him to go unsupervised, he had always been good for them. However, the wicked women would soon come to realize their mistake.

A nosy shop keep had Jason cornered in her store not thirty-seconds after he had walked in the door, who was he? Where were the women? Why did he not speak? All the questions were ones he was told to simply ignore, he was no one and the town didn’t need to know anything more. When the questions remained unanswered, the woman followed him. Yelling to get anyone's attention, the strange young man still did not speak. The pursuit ended not a moment later when she dared to grab him by the arm, his reaction was almost immediate. Spinning to take the woman by the throat, he lifted her with a practiced ease, slamming her into the storefront window behind her. Eyes like a shark were dark and emotionless staring her down, a single word falling from his lips, “Enough.” Releasing her, Jason turned on his heel, her coughs and gasps echoed down the near empty block while she caught her breath. The young man figured that would be the end of it, he had his treats and could go home. A storm was coming, the rain would last the night, and Jason tried to forget his visit.

That evening, however, a strange knock at the door told him things were going to change.

A police officer stood at the stoop when he answered, a grim look on his face, neither of them wanted him to be there. “Jason,” he offered with a tip of his hat, and the boy returned a nod in kind. Who is it? I am not sure Jason got the door. I’ll check.

Bethany was the first witch to exit the kitchen, upon seeing the badge her annoyance faded to a sickening kindness. “Officer Davenport, what a surprise, how can we help you?”

Nodding to Jason, Davenport spoke firmly, “Miss Witker, the young lady who owns Tally’s, reported an assault today. After she gave a description, we pieced together who could have possibly done it. Not many tall young men in this town,” his eyes finally flicked to Jason. His stomach dropped as Bethany let out a concern huff, “That simply isn’t possible, officer. Jason just bought some treats for his birthday, then came home.” The young man in question could feel her gaze on the back of his head, burning a hole into him.

“We have photos of the hand print across the victim's neck. CCTV showing some of the exchange. It doesn’t look good,” the man’s tone remained steady. If there was something he knew about the town, it was anything to do with the women would get buried. Fast. The visit was simply a formality, “Miss Witker is willing to forget the whole thing as long as Jason stays away from the shop. Your girls might want to tread lightly for a few days, let her calm down a little bit.”

“Of course. Jason is about to start some college courses at home anyway, too much studying for many trips in,” a dead lie. His gut twisted further, knowing there was going to be hell to pay when the door swung shut. It seemed her answer was good enough, and the officer excused himself. Opening his mouth to try to explain, Jason was cut off, “Out back. Now. Do not say a fucking thing, Jason,” the acid was back in the woman’s voice as she stormed off into the kitchen. All gitty chatter ceased as Bethany caught the other up, Jason barely heard it as he shuffled back toward the door. Stepping into the soft drizzle, he took a moment to savor the sensation, cold droplets gliding down his face and forearms left exposed to the elements. While he waited, Jason took a seat on the gazebo bench, eyes tracing the line of trees beyond their garden. Quieting his mind, Jason took a few breaths, whatever was to come would be over soon enough, and he could try to enjoy the rest of his day.

They exited the house in unison, their chatter amongst themselves too soft to be understood. Amber, the ring leader of the coven, moved to stand in front of the young man. A disappointed scowl on her brow, “Is it true?” He wasn’t foolish enough to speak simply nodding, the response was fast as the back of the woman’s hand cross his cheek. The sound dampened by the fall of rain. “Here I thought you were going to behave as you promised you would, Jason, now look. I can’t trust you to do something so simple without finding a way to make our lives harder. So, we’ll follow the officer's advice. No more town time, until you can prove you can handle yourself again.” Seemed simple enough, and he felt almost hopeful that would be it; Amber never made things simple. “Until then, you’re a risk. One I can’t afford to have right now,” looking over her shoulder to the other women, they nodded in unison. “Kneel,” the word is barked at him. Following orders, he moved to kneel in the center of the gazebo, surrounded by the remaining members of the ‘family’.

“This is a binding spell, you will be limited to the edges of our land for the foreseeable future. Break the boundary and you will pay the price,” Amber explained as Bethany took her place behind him, hand touching the back of his neck. A few words in language he did not know crossed her lips, the sensation was almost immediate. A thick rope slowly wrapped its way around his neck, though it could not be seen, the man felt ever bump and loose strand scrap against his skin. The knot rested on his spine, heavy and warm, meant to remind him of its presence. “If you break the boundary, it tightens. It will keep tightening until you can no longer fight it- if you choose to do so,” Bethany muttered as if reading him in a casual tone. To demonstrate, Amber waved her hand and the binding responded, his hands moved quickly to try to stop what was to come. But, his fingers only met skin. The binding continued to tighten as he scrambled back from the woman, gasps and coughs leaving him while panic began to settle in. His skin felt tighter as air was cut off from his lungs, rope biting into him, locking into place. It was when spots began to form in his vision, Jason figured they would let him fall limp, but the rope went slack. A violent gasp wracked him in attempts to allow oxygen in, his chest shuttered at the sensation.

“Good boy,” Amber giggled as he glared up at her, “Enjoy your birthday gift. You’ve earned it.”

#sfbf #i'll likely use him for the next few prompts #tw:blood #tw violence #tw manipulation

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tarysande · 3 years

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Oh no, I've been thinking.

Okay, I can't stop thinking about something ending-related. I don't know this for certain, but based on previous statements and such, it feels like the writers were always aiming for a bittersweet ending. Like, no matter what else happened or how the story evolved, come hell (lol) or high water, that ending couldn't just be happy. For reasons. I guess.

Now, I don't mind a bittersweet ending ... if it makes sense for the ending to be bittersweet.

I critique stories for a living. I'm literally taking a break from the developmental edit of someone's novel to write this post. And the persistent thought that bugs me about the Rory setup is that it is so artificial. Time travel is a pain in the narrative ass. Time travel suddenly introduced in the sixth season of a show that has never touched on time travel? As an editor, I probably would've pointed out that time travel for the purpose of angst, especially time travel without rules that make sense ("I don't know anything about time travel! Except I do know you have to take the most painful path!"), seemingly introduced as a final ploy to make that bittersweet ending work ... well, to me, it breaks the narrative contract they established with the audience. Your audience is going to be confused. An editor's job is to alert the writer to any potential confusion so it can be fixed before the story goes to print, etc. Confused audiences get mad, annoyed, frustrated. They feel hurt. They put down the book and don't pick it up again. Usually, writers don't want that. But they're so close to their work that they need a completely outside perspective to say, "Hey, I'm not sure you realize this, but..."

I mean, I keep referring to Rory as "deus ex daughter" because in literary terms, she is a blatant deus ex machina. Rory is the god in the machine of the Bittersweet Ending.

Now, I loved a lot of S6. I did. My overall feeling about the season is not negative. But ... I can't stop thinking about why the things I didn't like REALLY didn't work for me.

I loved the emotional growth we saw in Lucifer and Chloe facilitated by the question of parenting and parental love. I did. And I would have loved to see a lot of those notes hit not with an angel kid out of nowhere ... but with the daughter already in the picture. Especially because it would have circumvented the icky idea that a child has to be one's flesh and blood to induce such feelings. I also understand that coronavirus and Scarlett's age and schedule made this difficult. But I just can't swallow that the only way to wrap up the story of this show--a show about found family, non-traditional family, friendship, connection, FREE WILL, love in all its many shapes and forms and colors ... was to introduce a brand new character via a device (time travel) that fails to make sense almost every time it's used, no matter the medium. (And then had only that brand new character be there when her mother died. Don't even get me started. Ugh.)

If time travel was always going to be on the table, couldn't we have found a more plausible way to use it with the characters we already knew, loved, and had spent four or five seasons with? A time-travelling older Trixie, say? If you're going to use the impossible device, just ... twist it another way to make it work.

Okay. Okay. So, leaving Trixie aside for now just like the show did, let's say we leave everything about the season the same, even Rory. Do you know what ending makes more narrative sense?

Future Rory sacrificing herself by NOT forcing Lucifer to make a cruel and impossible "choice" so the baby that might have been her grows up with a family that loves her. Chloe's already pregnant. That's not going to be undone. And this nonsense of a "closed time loop" falls apart if you side-eye it for even a few seconds. The Rory who came from the future never exists except in the memories of those she met when she came back from that future. Chloe and Lucifer lose that daughter even as they gain the new one whose existence is not a tool of unrelenting fate because wow this show has always been about free will what the heck happened there yikes. And a choice made under the duress Chloe and Lucifer were under, forced out of them, and forcing them to "choose" a life apart for *handwave* Reasons has nothing to do with free will. A "choice" made at gunpoint is not a real choice. Future Rory basically bullied them into ensuring she got to exist--something, quite frankly, neither her parents would have done.

Instead, how much more appropriately bittersweet is it if Chloe and Lucifer lose that child while gaining one who, because of that angry time-travelling version, will never suffer as she did.

Also as an editor: the groundwork for my version is already laid, by the way. It should have been Rory learning about the importance of free will over fate. The importance of personal sacrifice. The importance of not thinking your young self knows best ... because experience and therapy will help rid you of that self-centered world view. That's the contract the writers made with us with this show. And Chloe and Lucifer have already BEEN THERE AND DONE THAT. (See: the end of S4.)

Furthermore, this season finally HAD Chloe and Lucifer DEAL WITH the only thing that actually would have contributed to a narrative, characterization-based reason for Lucifer to disappear: His history of running and his putting Chloe on a pedestal. Once they really talked that out, his "disappearance" became a Rory-induced trauma of inexplicable fate that flies in the face of all the progress Lucifer made over six seasons. (I would rather have had more of that and less of mysterious disappearing oh no plot.)

And I'm sorry, the "Once you get to Hell you're going to work 24/7" excuse given for why Lucifer won't be around and why he can't make time for Chloe until she's DEAD(????!???) is ... it's lame. If AMENADIEL AS GOD can make time for his kid's birthday party, I refuse to believe Lucifer can't work out some Hell/Earth-work/life balance. Never mind that in the show about partnerships, the Bittersweet Ending just ... destroyed it. Chloe was planning on being God's consultant; she could have helped Lucifer solve Hell's Trauma Mysteries (it's what she did with Jimmy, setting up that yeah, Lucifer could do it alone like he accidentally did with Lee, but doing it with HIS TRUTHSEEKING PARTNER would be more effective). Just as Lucifer could have continued helping HER solve some of the problems within "that corrupt little organization" of hers.

tl;dr: I think the writers fixated so completely on their version of Bittersweet that they missed all the foreshadowing, groundwork, and clues that were right there, already built into the story, poised for a different kind of ending than the one they once imagined. That's why so many parts of it feel almost-but-not-quite right and why these aspects are so off-putting. That's why it's just not ... organic. It's something squeezed into a box it grew out of ages ago.

Ironically, certain elements of this season involved the writers insisting on the FATE they decided long ago instead of letting the story and the characters have the FREE WILL to choose a different, more fitting, more organic ending--one that had long-since evolved past that original flavor of Bittersweet.

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #trixie espinoza #aurora morningstar #deckerstar #lucifer meta #lucifer thoughts #lucifer spoilers #lucifer s6 #lucifer s6 spoilers #lucifer critical #i criticize from a place of love #i really do

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awkwardspontaneity · 3 years

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Until The Battle Is Won

BOTW Link x GN!Sheikah!Reader

Final part of Memories of You!

AN: Hey everyone!! This is the final chapter of this story. I wanna thank everyone for sticking around with my lousy update schedule ':). Anyways, I've loved writing this story and I'm kind of sad to see it end but also I love this ending so much- even though it hurts. So grab some water, maybe a snack, some tissues, and strap in. This is long and pretty sad.

TW: gore, reader death, descriptive injuries

Summary: The final battle is here. Hyrule is in ruins as Ganon tears through every defense they had and now, the final champions must protect their Princess in the race to deliver them to their destinies.

It was dark.

Link was running through the forest, another hand in his as Y/n led the way. Their white hair was a beacon amongst the trees as he surged to keep up with their gazelle-like pace. He was focused on keeping up with the Sheikah warrior when he felt the hand slip from his. Link skidded to a stop, shouting for Y/n over the pouring rain. He knelt in front of Zelda, watching as she dug her fists into the mud beneath her. “How did it come to this? The Divine Beasts. The Guardians. They’ve all turned against us. It was... Calamity Ganon.”

Y/n had made their way back to the pair, carefully falling to their knees beside Link. He felt their hand curl around his, sensing the turmoil in him. It was all falling apart around them. They had worked so hard, faced so many trials, and made so many friends. And it was all for nothing. The fight was stacked against them, so much so that even Link was feeling the knot in his chest. They all felt helpless.

“Mipha, Urbosa, Revali, and Daruk…trapped inside those things...” the princess let out a heart-wrenching sob. “It’s all my fault!”

As Zelda cried into her hands, Y/n reached out to pull them back down, carefully pulling away the strands curled into her fists. When watery green eyes met red, the young Sheikah gave a pained smile. They linked hands with the princess and the knight, giving them both a firm squeeze. “I know it feels like we’ve already lost, like everything we’ve done has been for nothing. But we can’t think like that. We have the power of the master sword and the sealing light of the Goddess. As long as we hold our heads high and give this fight everything we have, Hyrule will survive this.”

“But I can’t use the sealing power!” Zelda pulled her hands away, fisting them in her dress to stop the shaking. Maybe if she weren’t such a failure, Hyrule wouldn’t be in danger. Her friends wouldn’t have to give their lives to face that monster. Why couldn't she do this one thing right! “I’ve tried everything and still I keep failing. Because of me they’ll die fighting the very beasts they were meant to pilot!”

“None of us can save them!” Y/n was looking down at the ground and, even through the rain, they could feel the tears sliding down their cheeks. “We can’t go back from where we are. We don’t have the time or the ability to save them from those beasts. So we must move forward. If we give up now… everything we went through…everything they are going through... it will be for nothing. And Hyrule will fall.”

Zelda surged forward, collapsing in her friend's arms. She clung to both as a sob tore from her throat. None of them could be strong. Not strong enough. Pressing his hand against Zelda’s back, Link reached out and placed a hand on Y/n’s arm. His voice was gruff, the stress and pain of what they were about to do- what they had already done, was too much for any person to bear. “All that we can do is keep fighting for their sake. We have to keep moving or we lose. We can win. We have to.”

He met Y/n’s eyes and they gave him a soft smile. They pressed their hand against his back and the princesses shoulder drawing both pairs of eyes to them. “No matter what happens, our friends will be by our side. Their wills become ours. And when you face down Ganon, you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have the love and support of all your friends. All of Hyrule. So save your tears until the battle is won.”

Zelda sniffled, bringing a hand up to wipe at her cheek- not that it did much help with how muddy they had gotten from being on the ground. She wanted so badly to give into the crushing weight of everything that had happened. Just this morning she had held hope within her as she climbed mount Lanayru and now… she had lost everyone she loved. Her kingdom had fallen along with her father. All she had left sat here before her. Gazing at her with matching weight on their shoulders. They too felt the chains of destiny closing in around them. But they stood tall. These two bore the weight of the world without complaint and now, they placed their belief in her. The failure of a princess would not fail again. She refused to fail her friends. “Then we have no choice. We have to fight for them… and for each other.”

Y/n smiled at the princess, carefully pulling the trio together so their heads touched. “When this is over we can do as many crazy experiments as you want.”

Laughter bubbled up amongst the trio, smiles breaking through the tough exteriors they had adopted the closer Calamity had gotten. Each of them had suffered at the hands of destiny, and now they would face what could be their final battle.

Y/n choked back a sob as they thought of the sacrifices that had brought them to this point. The sacrifices they would need to make to save Hyrule. All they wanted was for their friends to be able to look over their homes with smiles. For the weights to finally be lifted from their shoulders and allow them to live their lives without the looming threats of their destinies. They knew the knight and the princess could never go forward after all that had happened since Calamity broke through but, if there was something they could do to protect those they had left, Y/n would do whatever it took.

Link watched his friends with a tightness in his chest. They were ready to face Calamity Ganon. He would protect them in the final battle and, when the time came, they would finally be free of the weight of Hyrule. He stood up, reaching a hand to the princess to pull her to her feet. Y/n placed their hand on his cheek, wiping with their thumb as he watched them. They gave a smile and he knew. They had confidence in him. He never viewed himself as a hero, no matter how many times his partner had called him one. But when Y/n looked at him it was like that pressure lifted. Like he really could defeat Ganon. And he would. No matter how long the fight lasted. To finally be able to spend his days doing what he wanted with the person he loved. To be free.

The trio took off again, heading towards the castle. Y/n stuck close this time so they could discuss battle plans with Link. They knew the most Guardians were in the fields near the castle so they would need to find a way past them. They couldn’t release the Guardians from the corruption so they would have to destroy them if they were spotted. The question was if they could destroy that many.

Y/n was starting to wish they had Robbie's anti-Guardian weaponry, even if they weren’t perfected.

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The answer was no. They could not defeat the Guardians.

They had barely made it halfway through the fields before they were spotted. Once one Guardian had seen them, the rest followed. They were surrounded in seconds and, no matter how many Link and Y/n took down, it seemed like 5 more took their places. They were more than outnumbered. They were losing hope fast.

Y/n shot three bomb arrows into Guardians eyes, barely dodging blasts from two others. As the Guardians collapsed to the ground more followed. Mechanical limbs crushing their brethren to the ground with a deadly screech. They only cared to destroy the champions that stood below them. And it was starting to feel like they would.

Another blast echoed in Y/n’s ears and they felt the burn of the laser against their cheek. Too close! They knocked an arrow when the screech of metal sounded behind them. They barely managed to roll out of the way of a destroyed Guardian collapsing to the ground where they stood. They barely came up from the ground when they were knocked back down again.

“AHHH!”

Y/n could barely hear their scream over the shrieks of metal and the ringing in their ears. Flames crackled around them but the heat was nothing compared to the agony in their shoulder. They had been hit. Their skin still burned like thousands of needles pricking their way across their chest. They could feel nothing and everything at once. Like every nerve in their body was exposed and on fire. They couldn't focus, flames and metal blurring into one. It was over, wasn't it?

“-n… Y/n… Y/N!” Y/n felt the arms around them, a sob tearing through their throat as a hand brushed against the wound. Red eyes finally focused in on teary green orbs. It was only when their vision blurred did they realize tears were falling. The princess was crying too, shouting over the noise as the young Sheikah lay limp in her arms. Her hands slipped on the blood surrounding their shoulder and Y/n shot up with a silent gasp of agony.

“Y/N! You’re okay!”

Y/n stared at the princess in front of them. “Where’s Link?”

Zelda pointed to the center of the battle where the champion fought. Y/n shot to their feet, ignoring the pain that tore through them. They drew back their bowstring. “Whistle so he comes this way princess.”

She whistled as loud as she could and Link spun to the duo. His eyes widened as an arrow streaked past him and he took off. The champion slid behind the pile of fallen Guardians as the bomb arrow exploded. Dust and flames shot into the air creating a cloud over the battlefield.

Y/n ducked under the fallen Guardian with the others, heavy breaths escaping them all. It was only a moment. A single breath of time to plan their next move.

Link was the first to move, lunging forward to inspect his partner. He had seen them fall. Seen the princess holding them in her arms. And he had thought that was it. But here Y/n sat. Injured, but alive. And that was what mattered. That they were alive. He brushed hair away from their face with a shaky smile- honestly more of a grimace. He couldn’t find the words to explain his relief. How much he needed them and that he was happy they were okay, so he stuck with simple. “I love you.”

Y/n smiled back. They always knew what he meant, like they could read every thought in his head. They had felt it too. That moment of fear that they would never see each other again. But they were still here, giving him that goofy grin he loved so much. Despite their pain, Y/n was a rock- solid and unmovable. And they gave him hope. Y/n could smile at him and he could fight until his last breath. “I love you too.”

They sat in each other's arms, taking in the moment they had together. What could be their last moment with each other. Because Y/n had a plan.

“You have to go ahead without me.”

Y/n watched their friend’s faces morph to shock, then anger. Y/n knew they would fight the idea, but they had no choice. Even as their friends protested the idea, the Sheikah held up a hand. “If you and Zelda are to make it to the castle you need a clear path.”

“You can’t take on the Guardians alone!”

“It’s the only choice.”

“You said we fight together.” Y/n met Link’s eyes and they almost broke at the agony in them. They had never seen so much painted across his visage, the boy keeping a stoic face for the sake of his role. But here they were. There weren't enough words to describe the pain they both felt, physically and mentally. They were fighting on the losing side, and now they could lose each other? It was hard to see a point in the fight with so little left.

“Leaving you is my last choice… but I need you- both of you- to survive.”

“And what about you!?”

“I’M NOT THE CHOSEN ONE!” Y/n finally allowed the tears to fall. They didn’t matter. What mattered was guiding the chosen pair to Ganon. As long as Link and Zelda survived, they had completed their duty. Their life never mattered. It didn’t hold the same weight. Choking back their sobbing, Y/n tried to smile. They had their happy moments. Made friends. Fell in love. And now they had to fulfill their destiny. No matter how much it hurt. “Right now our destinies have to part ways… and I don’t know how long we’ll be apart. So I need you to keep fighting, even when I’m not beside you. Because together I know you can beat Ganon.”

“We shouldn’t have to leave you.” Tears were swimming in his cerulean eyes. The only thing that kept Link from crying was the promise he made. He wouldn’t cry until the battle was over. “I can’t lose you. You are my life… and I can’t live without you.”

“You can.” Y/n reached out, caressing his face in their hands. “You will… because I love you. I love you in this life, and the next, and every one that follows. I will stand by you until there isn’t a reason to fight and even then, I’ll stay with you. I. Love. You.”

Link surged forwards, pressing his lips against theirs. It was desperate. He needed to convey everything he felt in the few moments left. That they would stand together no matter what time they were in. They could be ripped apart or thrown through time, or even lose all their memories and they would still share this bond. As long as destiny brought them together, they would connect like perfect halves. They completed each other.

Link was the first to pull away, hands running through Y/n’s hair and over their face. It was like he was trying to memorize every detail about them. Like if he focused he could commit Y/n to memory. He needed to be able to find them again, even if it was only within his own thoughts.

“You need to go.” Y/n broke the trance, whispering the words neither of them wanted to hear.

They had to part ways.

Link pressed a final kiss to Y/n’s forehead before he stood up. Zelda lunged forward to hug the Sheikah, sobs escaping her. She squeezed so tightly Y/n had to bite their tongue to keep the whimper at bay as pain shot through their injuries. They would bare the pain for this moment with their friend. Pulling Zelda close to their form, Y/n whispered encouragement and thanks for their time together.

When Zelda pulled away, she wiped her tears before giving a grin. She may not hold the same belief in herself that the others did, but she would do what she could. She would hold onto the strength of her friends and use it as her weapon. Everyone had protected her for a reason. She would show them it was not in vain.

With their final goodbyes Link and Zelda took off, weaving through the corpses of Guardians. Y/n waited until they had reached the open fields before stepping out from their hiding spot and whistling. Mechanics whirred to life around them as Guardians rose to defense. Y/n drew back their arrows, white hot pain flaring as their shoulder stretched. This would be their final stand. They would give it their all, here and now, so their friends could go on.

The next few moments were a blur of exploding arrows, machines being crushed, and the blasts of lasers. Y/n couldn't keep track of how many times they had pulled back the string of their bow, loosing arrow after arrow in order to keep the masses of mechanical beasts focused on their being. They reached for their quiver once more, red eyes focused on the glowing eyes of the Guardians targeting them, only to come up empty. There were no arrows left.

There was no more hiding. All the Sheikah had left were the dual blades strapped to their side and the hope their speed would be fast enough to survive.

Y/n pulled out their blades, taking off towards the closest Guardian. They jumped up the front, thrusting their blade into its eye before flipping onto the next. The process of picking off Guardians continued as the Champion flipped and twisted their way through the masses of mechanical monsters.

Flipping off the top of a Guardian, the Sheikah noticed Guardians getting away from them. They had noticed the others! Y/n ran towards where their friends were and, in their panic, missed the giant arm heading their way.

CRUNCH

With a strangled cry, the Sheikah champion hit the ground. They tried to stand, curling in on themselves as they hit the ground again with a sob. There were too many. Y/n was exhausted. Everything hurt. So. Much.

Letting out a cough, Y/n felt a warm liquid trickle down their face. They could hear the Guardian closing in on them. The rest seemed to have lost interest when the champion fell, allowing this one to make sure it was for the last time. Propping themselves up, Y/n could see the red target on their chest. Mustering all the strength left in their body, they launched their sword at the Guardian. It struck the eye and, twitching in its failure, the beast fell. Unfortunately, this drew the rest of the Guardians back to the young Sheikah on the ground. Y/n fell back to the ground.

Thump.

Guardians picked their way over mounds of mechanical parts.

Thump.

Y/n closed their eyes.

Thump.

At least it didn’t hurt anymore.

BOOM!

Golden light erupted across the fields of Hyrule, extinguishing the flames and sucking the light from the Guardians deadly eyes.

It was warm.

Y/n smiled. Zelda had done it. She wasn’t a failure. She had unlocked her sealing powers and finally, Ganon would know defeat once more.

Y/n watched the clouds clear from the sky, stars beginning to light up the night. They supposed Ganon had pulled back from the golden aura. Maybe one day they could lay under the stars with Link. Swallowing the metallic taste of their blood the fallen warrior reached a hand up. They basked in the light of the stars twinkling above. It was like they were waving the champion up to their sides. As Y/n’s light faded, the stars grew brighter, blurring together into one light.

And with a soft breath, the Sheikah Champion allowed themselves to rest at last.

------

100 years later Link stood there watching over the fields of Hyrule. Calamity Ganon had finally been defeated. Zelda was safe as was Hyrule. The duo had made their way down from the wreckage of the castle, ready to begin their new adventure. They were free of their destiny, but the memories would follow with them forever. The Hylian Champion felt a tug and he spun back to face the castle. There above floated the spirits of his fellow Champions. Finally free from the corruption of Ganon and his malice beasts. But what stole the breath from his lungs was the spirit of the one he loved- Y/n- floating there with a grin on their face. Noticing him watching, they sent him a goofy wave, knocking their spectral arm against Revali. Link let out a snort. They never changed. Their lights began to dim as the Champions began to walk away leaving him to watch their final goodbyes. He smiled softly as he saw Y/n mouth ‘I love you’, a hand pressing against their heart, something he was quick to respond to. With one last wave, the Sheikah Champion faded away. And as Link watched the spirits of his friends- his love- fade into light, he let a tear fall quickly followed by more.

The battle was won.

#legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #loz x reader #loz link x reader #breath of the wild x reader #breath of the wild link x reader #botw link x reader #botw x reader #link x reader #reader has sheikah features like hair and eyes #awkwardspontaneity

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tossawary · 4 years

Note

wait can we hear more about da ge mbj au I'm very interested

MBJ getting abandoned as a child makes me enjoy imagining him being soft for babies, especially demon babies. Which made me want to see SQH put into a situation with a lost demon child and MBJ getting to see that.

Which ended in 3,000 words of canon divergence fic.

The situation was bad.

Airplane’s fellow An Ding disciples were dead.

There was a young demon lord unconscious in front of him, probably dying, and Airplane couldn’t bring himself to bring down the rock in his hand.

His hand was shaking. He couldn’t make it stop.

This System really didn’t give a fuck about the author’s wishes, huh? Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had been shoved into one of the worst character roles in Proud Immortal Demon Way and left to take the long way around to the plot. Now he was being told that his favorite character was expendable? Irrelevant? Talk about insult to injury! Nothing was sacred here, was it?

Airplane put down the rock.

Then he picked up the rock again.

He looked at it.

Then he hurled the rock away and put his head in his hands instead.

He came to a decision - a shitty decision for a shitty situation - and got to work saving his future murderer’s life. At least he would know some of what to expect if he kept the storyline mostly the same! Besides, his life wasn’t good enough to be that concerned about it! Maybe the System would put him into a decent role next time!

Maybe it was empathy at seeing someone being fucked over by the System!

Airplane did his best to slow down Mobei-Jun’s bleeding and loaded the man into the cart. He also did his best to ignore all the dead bodies around them. Gross.

That should have been that! He should have then been on his way to continue making a really bad decision in a really bad situation. But as Airplane moved to leave the scene of a massacre behind him, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He startled, snapping around, prepared to defend himself physically or verbally!

Instead, he saw a baby.

Ah, well, not a baby baby! But a child somewhere between the ages of three and four years old! A chubby one too! The chubby child was crouched halfway behind a tree, looking at Airplane with wide eyes, little hands clawing anxiously into the grass. It was impossible to miss their little pointed ears and the blue mark in the middle of their forehead. How could anyone miss that kind of family resemblance?

The demon child froze upon being noticed.

Airplane looked between the demon child and the young demon lord in the card, but the similarities only got stronger the longer he looked!

Holy shit!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

But he didn’t remember Mobei-Jun having a child! He remembered Mobei-Jun having siblings, sure, but he was pretty sure that... he’d alluded to Mobei-Jun’s uncle doing away with most of them. Did that mean that this child was supposed to… die?

This situation had gotten even worse.

Leaving a child here to die was… pretty bad. Airplane had done some not very good things to make it in this world and in his sect without losing any sleep over it at all, but the idea of leaving this child to die made Airplane want to be sick! At least, as soon as he realized that if Mobei-Jun had been protecting this demon child and woke up to find this demon child missing, then Airplane would be really, truly, totally fucked no matter how tightly he hugged the man’s thighs!

It looked like the demon child had to come too.

How the fuck did a person go about catching a demon child?!

“Is… this your gege?” Airplane tried carefully. “Is this your gege here?”

The demon child didn’t respond.

Airplane gestured at Mobei-Jun repeatedly, unsure how to get the message across. “Is this your gege?” he said, louder. “Baba? ...No? Not Baba? Da-Ge? Are you his didi?”

That got a blink.

“Didi?” Airplane repeated, desperately. “Come here, Didi.”

Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky hadn’t handled children since his last life. He’d been one of the younger siblings in Shang Qinghua’s family, so he hadn’t been involved in any of the child-rearing before leaving. But Airplane’s experience wasn’t very good! Some forced babysitting of his father’s do-over children and his mother’s stepchildren’s children didn’t make him an expert! And this was a demon baby!

“Didi, your gege needs you,” Airplane wheedled. “Come here! Come on!”

Slowly, the demon child began to crawl over towards the cart.

“Your gege is hurt and needs help,” Airplane said, in most most soothing and also urgent voice. It was a weird balance! “Come on! Come along! Didi, your gege needs help. He’s hurt. Come here, please, that’s it! That’s right! Good job! You’re doing such a good job coming up here for your gege! We need to get your gege somewhere safe!”

The demon child made it to the cart, trying to stay on the far side of it and away from Airplane. Airplane tried not to make himself look too threatening. He also tried not to contemplate his apparent natural talent for kidnapping children, which probably wasn’t something to make a person feel proud.

“Didi, can I pick you up? Didi, can I lift you up next to your gege?”

Reluctantly, the demon child lifted his chubby arms and let Airplane slowly approach him. Airplane carefully put his hands under their armpits and then hefted them into the cart beside Mobei-Jun. The demon child nearly kicked him in the gut, struggling to get to the unconscious and injured ice demon!

“Ah, be careful of the injury-!” Airplane said, trying to move the child back. “OW!”

The demon child bit him.

Airplane yanked his poor hand back. “You little fucker! Ah, fine! Curl up in your gege’s blood and see if I care,” he muttered. “Let’s just get out of here already.”

The demon child curled up against Mobei-Jun’s side and Shang Qinghua got back into the driver’s seat of the cart. Trying to channel his spiritual energy for healing purposes while focusing on driving was hard. Even if he could have managed it properly, he still would have been stuck with an aching hand as it healed, which didn’t make him feel very charitable towards the demons in the back seat.

Ungrateful! The both of them!

When they finally got to a decent hiding place, unloading Mobei-Jun was nothing less than a pain in the ass. Airplane was forced to negotiate with a two-foot tyrant with needle-sharp teeth who didn’t want to move and didn’t want Airplane to touch his gege. Airplane was forced to wheedle like never before.

“Your gege is hurt, but I can help him,” Airplane insisted soothingly. “See that place? It’s safe in there! Don’t you want your gege to be somewhere nice and safe, where no one can see him and I can heal him? Look at that hiding spot! It’s a good hiding spot. We all need to go into the hiding spot now. We’re all going into the hiding spot. Come on, Didi, help me get your gege into the nice, safe hiding spot. Come on now. Be good.”

The demon child bared his teeth as Airplane helped him down from the cart, but thankfully didn’t bite again. The demon child then hugged Airplane’s shins very unhelpfully as Airplane hefted Mobei-Jun into his arms.

Airplane was forced to shuffle.

He never thought he’d be so grateful for all the carrying that An Ding Peak forced its disciples to do! Sometimes, carrying things around was all Airplane did all day long and now it was paying off! Airplane wasn’t as strong as some of his peers, sure, but he still managed to carry a giant ice demon into the “hiding spot” with a little ice demon attached to his leg. He counted himself grateful there was only one Mobei-Jun to deliver inside, because he couldn’t have handled more.

Once inside, the demon child curled up against Mobei-Jun’s side again. Airplane took the opportunity to look after the cart’s beast of burden and unload the supplies from the cart, searching desperately for the medical supplies their mission had been allotted. When he finally found the medicine, returning triumphantly, the demon child was ungratefully unenthusiastic about Airplane’s careful approach.

“Ah, Didi, don’t growl at me! See, look! Look! It’s medicine! Medicine for your gege to stop the bleeding and... make sure his organs go back on the inside. Eugh. Ah, anyway, I’m helping. It’s okay because I’m helping. See, look, I’m helping. It’s okay.”

Airplane managed to get pretty far before the demon child couldn’t take it anymore and tried to bite him again. Airplane shrieked, but managed to wrestle the demon child off him, and ended up grabbing some of the food supplies as a desperate distraction.

“Bite this! Bite this! Didi, look, it’s food! Food for Didi!”

The demon child growled, but putting the food directly in front of his face caught his attention. The demon child’s eyes narrowed in on the food in a super predatory way that was unseen in human babies. Airplane gladly made the sacrifice. He threw the food to the demon child, who scrambled to catch it, gave it a sniff, and then started to hesitantly nibble on it before taking bigger bites.

“See? Don’t bite your Shang-Gege and he’ll give you food instead,” Airplane muttered, quickly turning his attention to the bigger demon. “You stay there and chew that and let me help your gege. I’m helping. I’m helping. I’m helping. Shang-Gege is helping Didi’s gege. Everything is good. Everything is okay. There’s no need for biting.”

Airplane didn’t really know how much the demon child understood of what he was saying. The demon child looked more than old enough to understand basic speech. He at least understood “stay”, Airplane decided, by sitting off to the side and anxiously chewing through dried food supplies while Airplane worked rearranging Mobei-Jun’s guts and then bandaging up the blood mess.

Maybe it helped to see that Airplane had no intention of eating the unconscious and vulnerable Mobei-Jun or something. He was pretty sure that was a demon thing.

He couldn’t bring himself to think about what he was doing!

If he thought about his actions here, he was going to throw up or something!

So long as he kept his hands moving here, he didn’t have to think about anything. He was just an An Ding Peak disciples hard at work betraying the sect. Yeah.

Eventually, Mobei-Jun was in as good a shape as Airplane could get him. The demon child - Didi, Airplane decided to call him - was curled up into a ball beside where Mobei-Jun was lying. Didi looked like he was forcing himself to stay alert.

“It’s all okay now,” Airplane said. “See? I helped. Shang-Gege helped your gege. Your Gege needs to sleep to get better and now you can sleep beside him.”

Airplane washed himself as best he could and tried to wash Didi a little, but the demon child was resistant and snapped at him. Airplane, expecting this now, successfully dodged the snap and wiped at Didi’s face. Trying to be nice was too much work! Airplane’s clean-up job ended up being pretty shitty. There was no doing anything about Mobei-Jun’s blood staining Didi’s clothes around the knee and elbow.

“Ah, fine, curl up in blood again, you little brat,” Airplane sighed.

Didi curled up against Mobei-Jun’s side again and, apparently, immediately fell asleep.

Airplane secured their hiding place as best he could, took stock of their pitiful amount of resources, and tried not to panic about what the fuck he was was going to do now. He was exhausted. Saving two ungrateful demons was hard work. He had no idea what was going to happen next. He was pretty sure he had just made the worst mistake of his life, but it was a little late to change things now.

Airplane found a good patch of floor to watch over the demons and let himself collapse. He was too tired to think anymore. There were too many things to think about.

He hoped that Mobei-Jun didn’t die. Demons were hardy and demon lords were even hardier, but the real world that had been made out of his shitty web-novel was really unpredictable sometimes. For all Airplane knew, Mobei-Jun was going to develop an infection and a fever. Maybe Mobei-Jun would die anyway and Airplane was going to be stuck with a bitey demon brat who hated him.

Airplane yawned. Keeping his eyes open was becoming really hard. Fuck.

Watching Didi’s back go up and down with his unconscious breaths was pretty mesmerizing. It was really tempting to sneak over there and pinch one of those chubby, chubby cheeks. Or those cute demon ears. But the demon child looked almost as tired as Airplane felt and probably bit in his sleep.

Airplane really didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he’d just taken off with Mobei-Jun, not knowing the demon child had been hiding nearby. That might have been the worst possible situation. Didi was dirty and exhausted now, sure, but he looked like one of those babies who should have been spoiled and happy all the time, and not mercilessly abandoned to the human world.

Airplane woke up with a hand around his throat, squeezing.

There was a dark shadow above him and an even darker feeling in the air. The hand at his throat felt freezing cold. The air was burning with hateful demonic energy that felt like acid on his skin. Airplane struggled, but it was all immoveable.

“Where is he?” the shadow snarled.

Airplane choked.

His shadowy attacker belatedly seemed to realize that Airplane couldn’t talk when he was being choked to death! The squeezing let up enough for Airplane to breathe again. His lungs felt like they were burning hot and cold! His throat felt crushed and ruined.

“What did you do with him?” the attacker demanded.

“...W-wh…?”

“The child! Where is the child?!”

Airplane realized here that he was looking into the face of his future murderer. It was hard to make out in the darkness when he was being choked!

Mobei-Jun looked wild. His eyes looked like lightning.

“The ch-child… ch- chi- is-”

Mobei-Jun snarled again with impatience.

Even though it definitely wasn’t Airplane’s fault he couldn’t talk coherently!

“H-here,” Airplane choked out.

Mobei-Jun’s grip tightened, but then the man froze. His head snapped to the side.

Airplane followed the demon lord’s gaze.

Through the darkness, if Airplane squinted, he could see a small figure crouched by the supplies. Didi was frozen, watching them, chubby cheeks stuffed with stolen food.

Oh, there weren’t words for what Airplane wanted to say to the brat! Sneaking around like this in the middle of the night! Nearly getting Airplane strangled for no reason!

Mobei-Jun released Airplane immediately and flew across the room to the demon child, who threw up his arms immediately. Mobei-Jun took his younger brother into his arms and then collapsed heavily to the floor. By the sound of it, he crushed some of their precious food supplies as he fell! But the man was too busy wrapping his arms around the demon child to care about things like that, letting Didi sob into his chest, glaring at Airplane over the demon child’s head.

Airplane kept his distance! He knew better than to get anywhere near that!

The silence was very heavy.

He was certain that Mobei-Jun had reopened his wounds, if they had managed to close at all! As time trickled by them, he could see red seeping down the man’s side.

“...There are more bandages,” Airplane said finally, hoarsely.

Mobei-Jun’s scowl deepened, his lip curling.

“Ah… if- if you want them.”

What an asshole!

Airplane stayed put and didn’t make any sudden moves.

His throat felt like shit, so he tried to heal it with his spiritual energy. It was hard to focus with the demon lord glaring at him like that, on the other side of the room, but he didn’t really have anything better to do. There were only so many names he could silently call this ungrateful young demon who’d attacked the bro who’d saved his life!

At least Mobei-Jun hadn’t bitten him too.

Time trickled by and by. Eventually, Mobei-Jun’s eyelids began to droop close. The man’s injury appeared to be pulling him back under, whether he liked it or not.

After Mobei-Jun’s eyes had closed without opening for a long time, Airplane finally risked moving again. Mobei-Jun didn’t wake up, but Didi’s eyes fixed on Airplane, which made Airplane fear being bitten as he carefully came closer.

“Ahhh, see? Your gege is fine. I’m just… just going to put him back to bed, alright? You- don’t get up… just stay there and don’t bite me. We’re putting gege back to bed.”

Airplane dragged Mobei-Jun back to where the man had been before, with Didi staying put on his elder brother’s chest. Airplane was sure that this couldn’t be good for the demon lord’s wounds! But clearly Mobei-Jun didn’t give a shit about his own health!

“Didi, can you get off gege’s chest? Keep hugging him, just slide off, please? Gege is hurt, remember? Gege is hurt and we need to help him. See, he’s bleeding. Please let your Shang-Gege help again and don’t bite me. Everyone is fine. Everyone is happy. Everyone is getting along just fine and helping and healing. There’s no need to bite your Shang-Gege who is only helping, okay?”

Didi was more cooperative this time, sliding off Mobei-Jun chest to hug his less-injured side, while Airplane poked at the demon lord’s bleeding. The injuries looked… a lot better than Airplane would have expected them to. This healing rate was nothing short of astounding. Was this the power of an OP demon lord? How unfair!

Airplane did his best fixing the man up again.

He should have just let the man rot!

Mobei-Jun had just tried to kill him again! He would totally deserve it!

But there was a demon child carefully watching and Airplane didn’t want to end up with custody if his future murderer died here after all. What would he do with a demon child? Take them back to the sect?! His master would love that, he’s sure!

“Ah, looks like he’s getting lots better,” Airplane told Didi hoarsely, rubbing at his poor throat. “You’re doing a good job looking after him. Good job helping your gege. Keep helping his sleep, okay? Stay right there and don’t go sneaking off again, okay? Please don’t go sneaking off again, your Shang-Gege won’t be able to take it.”

Didi just blinked at him.

“Good job,” Airplane said. “Good job. Shang-Gege is… going to make sure that everything is okay outside. You stay here and protect your gege. Good job.”

That said, Airplane crept backwards, got up, and went outside.

Once outside, he promptly fell to his knees and curled in on himself.

“Holy fucking shit,” he said.

#moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua #mobei didi #tossawary svsss #tossawary updates #da ge mobei jun fic #ask tossawary #anonymous #Anonymous #fic ideas #Babe in the Woods

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perpetual-help · 3 years

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If I might ask, how did you return to Holy Mother Church?

Well, the short answer would be by the graces won for me by The Blessed Mother. I owe everything to her intercession.

I was a cradle Catholic who fell away from the Church during my later teenage years. I abandoned God out of anger and also out of a growing curiosity in the occult. I studied and practiced (and eventually mentored in) witchcraft for about six years. Towards the end of the six years, my pursuits into witchcraft grew darker and more sinister. To give you an example of the mindset I was spiraling towards - back then, I was becoming more acquainted with groups who condoned human sacrifice / cannibalistic rituals / cursing for the pleasure of causing chaos and misery / knowingly working with demons. I thank God that I was spared from going any further in these groups than simply learning what they do or what they encourage to be done through text, and nothing more.

I met someone I will call “H” through a mutual friend (in person.) My first impression of H wasn’t a very good one, given that I could tell from our first interaction that H was a Christian. Back then, I could differentiate between Christians and non-Christians by the feeling of the air that would surround them, and if I found them to be Christian, there would be an immediate swelling of hatred towards them. I had a tarot reading done for H and I to see whether it would be worthwhile to humor a friendship with a Christian, and the person who gave the reading claimed that H and I were actually soulmates. I took this seriously and decided that, since H and I were apparently connected in such a way, I had to make an effort towards H’s wellbeing, even if it never led to anything romantic. H attended a small Pentecostal church that would post its service online, and I would occasionally watch some of the sermons in order to mock and laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They would “speak in tongues,” give “words” to people, run around in “the spirit,” and do other things that I found stupid but thoroughly amusing. My interest was especially piqued by the idea of “speaking in tongues” - because, when some of them would “speak in tongues,” I could understand what they were saying. (More on my present thoughts about this later)

H suffered from depression, which I considered a blight to the both of us, given that we were allegedly soulmates. One Sunday, H said they did not want to go to church because of the depression, and so I offered to go with them, knowing that they would leap at the opportunity to drag a heathen to church. On my way to the church, the voices I recognized as my “spirit guides” at the time were leaving me with strong internal impressions such as: “He is going to say that your chains are breaking, ignore him.” And “he is going to single you out, don’t fall for it.” My answer to these impressions was “fine.”

When I entered the Church, I felt an immediate repulsion. People were dancing and singing pop worship songs, and I internally questioned why I had chosen to do this. Sure enough, the pastor did single me out. Most of what he said to me could be attributed to cold reading, but it was entertaining. I was told “Your chains are breaking. You wear your past bad relationship like a scarlet letter on your forehead.” and “You’re going to meet a Godly man and your relationship will be like out of movie. When you do, cling to him.” I’m not sure how to describe some of the sensations I felt during parts of the service. At times, I felt like my skin was crawling, or like my skin was burning, and other times as though my throat were closing and I was being choked. I initially brushed these feelings off and tried to convince myself that it was social anxiety, but that experience lingered with me even after the service. H and I talked a lot after church, mostly about the Bible and different parts in the scripture. I had a lot of questions and H was kind enough to offer loving and well-thought-out answers. I went home and cried, and it was the first time I had properly cried in several years. I wasn’t sure why I cried at first, but the day’s events recurred in my mind’s eye and I recalled how horrible I’d felt while people worshipped around me. At that moment, I genuinely wanted to know the truth - I wanted to know whether God was real. And, if He was real, I wanted to know whether He would help me. So, I prayed. I asked God this: “If you are real, please touch my heart so that I know.” Immediately, I enveloped by this warmth and peace, and something I can only think to describe as perfect love and tranquility. My heart felt this so intensely that it seemed to be overflowing in and through me, and I wept. I only then was able to realize how absolutely miserable and exhausted and anxious and depressed and wrathful I had been for so long. I wept, and I promised to give myself entirely to God. In return, I asked Him to help me to become a servant pleasing to Him - to love Him more, always. The demons I once considered my “spiritual guides” and “deities” showed their true colors after this experience. I would say, for the first year of my conversion, I was tormented a lot in different ways - but especially in my dreams, and by feelings of intense anxiety and despair that would be thrown upon me out of nowhere and that coupled with the sensation that the walls were closing in. The voices and impressions I once recognized as “friends” started to say things like “you can’t be saved, you’ve already given yourself to us.” among other lies. These torments continue today, and in other ways, but they aren’t as constant as they were towards the beginning.

I threw away six years worth of junk I had acquired which left my room essentially empty, but it was a liberating feeling. I started to attend the Pentecostal church, but my time there didn’t last. They hosted a woman who called herself a prophetess who spoke in tongues, but what she would say would be blasphemies. People would shout “amen” and “alleluia” to these utterances, and I began to understand that this group didn’t know how to discern the spirit. The breaking point for me was when the pastor claimed that Jesus had to learn how to perform miracles - that, and, the glaringly obvious inconsistencies between his sermons and scripture. There was an unhealthy focus on titles of ministries and “what God can do for your health and wealth.”

I lasted three months at that church before it clicked in my head that the Catholics were right. This, was also in part due to my rediscovery of the Bible verses that referred to Jesus’ command to eat His flesh and drink His blood, and a dream that followed. So, I went to confession for the first time in probably 8 or more years. It was a frightening experience and I cried during the entire confession like the wimp I am, but the liberation I felt afterwards far outweighed it all. A couple of days after my confession, I attended Mass with my mother. During the Transubstantiation, while the Priest held up The Body and Blood of Our Lord, I smelled a strong incense. I only noticed the smell because I normally disliked Church incense for how strong it is, but this one, while it was strong and impossible to ignore, it was the most beautiful smell I’ve ever encountered. (There was more crying) After Mass, I asked my mom whether she knew what kind of incense they used, and she deadpanned “They didn’t burn incense.”

Now that I have had more time to process the beginnings of my conversion and especially my encounters at the Pentecostal church, I am of the impression that I was able to understand their “tongues” because it was demons speaking through them. I’m aware that there’s a Charismatic Movement of Catholics who also claim to speak “in the tongues” but I am always wary of such claims, and I avoid such practices like the plague.

God is so merciful and so loving, and my entire life is a testament to this. I did nothing but offend Our Lord and hate all things good and Holy, but still, He called out to me and saved me from the miserable state of death I hadn’t realized I was in. All Glory to God.

As St. Germanus of Constantinople said: ”There is no one, O Most Holy Mary, who can know God except through thee; no one who can be saved or redeemed but through thee, O Mother of God; no one who can be delivered from dangers but through thee, O Virgin Mother; no one who obtains mercy but through thee, O Filled-With-All-Grace!”

For this reason, I also attribute these great graces given to me by the intercession of Our Blessed Mother, and I owe her nothing less than my life in return for this favor she has shown me.

I hope my answer has satisfied the question without being too tedious.

God bless you, and keep you.

#catholic #roman catholic #catholic witch #christian witch #christian #witchcraft #conversion #ask

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unhealthyfanobsession · 4 years

Text

I teased this in a previous post and people asked me to expand so...here’s my controversial take that Rhysand and Nesta are actually parallel characters in many ways and that they both hate each other so much because they ultimately hate themselves.

Alright ladies and gentleman, anti’s and stans, buckle your fucking seatbelts or hope off the roller coaster here because I’m about to learn you a thing or two about the most divisive characters in the ACOTAR world.

Starting out very broadly- both characters are introduced as sort of confusing villains (Rhys is “evil” but he’s also helping Feyre. Nesta is an “awful sister”, but she also is protective of Elain and tells Feyre essentially to go and be happy), both have faced significant trauma and grapple with self-loathing and feelings of not being good enough, and both ultimately find redemption and healing with their mates who love them. They also both currently exist in a strange parallel coming out of ACOSF where Rhys is supposedly “chosen by the Cauldron” and Nesta is “blessed by the Mother”- the two sacred entities of Prythian.

Intrigued? More specifics and text analysis under the cut

Mommy (and Daddy) Issues:

Both characters were basically raised by their mother’s alone and then lost them at a young age and that had a deep impact on them. Rhysand had a far more positive experience of being raised by his mother HOWEVER I would argue that it was still “grooming” of a type since she took him away to train in Illyria specifically so that he wouldn’t be influenced by his father.

Rhys’ mother did this out of love and Nesta’s mother groomed her out of a social climbing agenda, but it had the same effect- they both lost the parent who was their primary caregiver at a young age and they were both not close with their father’s because of their mother’s actions (again this was a good thing for Rhys, not as much for Nesta).

Parents Death: Rhys and Nesta both blame themselves for one of their parent’s death and are deeply affected by feeling like they failed someone important to them.

Rhys thinks that he is responsible for his mother and sister’s death because he gave Tamlin info

Rhys even says after this “It should have been me.”

Nesta feels that she was unable to save her father and she hates herself for it.

Rocky sibling relationship and Separation:

Rhysand and Cassian are obviously a lot further along in their sibling journey, but it’s stated that he and Cassian HATED each other and fought constantly essentially until Azriel arrived and then they decided to be “allies”.

Nesta and Feyre are also at each others throats but seem to put their differences aside in order to not upset Elain. (Even when Feyre first goes back to the human lands Nesta says NOPE NO FAE! But as soon as Elain asks her to do as Feyre says she agrees) and then Nesta states in ACOSF that she and Feyre were brought together by Elain to be allies in the war.

Rhysand and Cassian obviously grew into true brothers despite their adversarial, insulting, bitter beginning... and Nesta and Feyre after ACOSF have done the same. Obviously there’s still a lot of work to be done in that relationship, but the parallel stands (and is just strengthened by the fact that in both cases it’s the character with more power in the relationship- Nesta for being the oldest and Rhys for being the one whose family took Cassian in is then mated to the opposite sibling!)

Both have a parent who essentially separated them from their ‘siblings’ for their own benefit. Nesta’s mom isolated her as a child so that she could groom her and tell her how to maneuver her sisters when the time was right while Rhys’ father- afraid of his, Cassian, and Azriel’s combined power- separated them for 7 years through the first war to ensure they wouldn’t ally against him. Nesta was also separated from Feyre by Tamlin and tried to go to the wall to get her back but couldn’t get through- which is very reminiscent to me of the scene at the beginning of ACOWAR from the first war where Rhys is searching desperately but without hope for Cassian.

Shared Trauma and Learning to be “Evil” to protect their family:

both characters are sexual assault survivors who spend a chunk of their book (I’m counting ACOMAF as essentially Rhys’ book since that’s when we learn more about him as a character) grappling with that, coming to terms with it, and moving forward with a general attitude of “Never Again.” I would also argue that even their abusers are parallels as Rhysand was only ‘with’ Amarantha because he was trying to protect his family and Nesta was only ‘with’ Tomas because she thought his family might be able to take in and feed Elain (she says in ACOSF that she would give him whatever he wanted- her body meant nothing to her and Elain meant everything, which is essentially Rhys’ UTM mindset). In addition, both characters are able to escape their abusers out of love for Feyre. Rhys does so when Amarantha is about to kill Feyre, and Nesta does so because she realizes that Tomas would never go to the wall with her to save Feyre.

Beyond this, both characters express that it is the lack of control over their own lives that truly haunts them. Rhys when he felt like he had no choice but to be Amarantha’s puppet and Nesta with a lot of her life, but especially when she is forced into the cauldron. Both of these are things that make them feel like failures for not protecting others. Rhys is haunted that he couldn’t protect Feyre under the mountain and Nesta is haunted that she couldn’t protect Elain from the cauldron.

This leads both characters to have a terrifying power-surge nightmare brought on by their trauma (Rhys from Amarantha; Nesta from the Cauldron) that terrifies those around them and can only be stopped by their mate.

In addition to this, they both have a “persona” that they put on and sometimes feel like they can’t shake off, a face that they made to protect themselves and their family. Rhys with his “Court of Nightmares” persona that he uses UTM, in the Hewn City, and with the other High Lords until the war. Part of his growth is letting people see beyond that ‘most powerful high lord of darkness’ mask.

For Nesta this is expressed by her “wolves” that she uses to put up a wall between her and the people who mocked her and her family, and especially Elain. And her learning to open up with Cassian and her found family was really important for her growth

HOWEVER, they both also keep that persona. Rhys has his mask polished for when anyone might threaten the people he loves and so does Nesta. Neither of them truly gave up that side of themselves, the darkness, they simply learned to stop it from consuming them.

They also both LIKE doing this to their enemies. Rhys likes to toy with his enemies and torture those who would harm his family or betray him and so does Nesta- she revels in cutting down anyone who insults Elain and says in ACOSF that she’s felt the urge to do the same for Cassian. They both wield words like weapons and use their intelligence to ensure they are always one quip ahead of their enemies. Something that both Feyre and Cassian admire in their mates and try to emulate to a degree.

(Bonus points for the fact that in both cases their families did not ASK to be protected/sacrificed for.)

Found family and sacrifice:

Rhys calls Cassian and Azriel his “brothers” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Nesta calls Emerie and Gwyn her “sisters” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Rhys sacrifices himself to Amarantha in order to protect Cassian and Azriel (and Velaris). Nesta sacrifices herself to hold the path of Enalius to protect Emerie and Gwyn. There’s also a line in ACOMAF and a parallel line in ACOSF essentially about Nesta being willing to do anything- including “whore” herself- to protect Elain, and in order to protect his brother’s that’s exactly what Rhys did- “whore” himself to Amarantha.

Both are ‘saved by’ and feel not good enough for their mate:

I hesitate to use the word “saved by” because ultimately both characters have more agency than that, HOWEVER, both characters rely on their mate to a degree to pull them out of a very dark time and place. Feyre helps Rhys remember who he is and forgive himself for under the mountain and he even specifically calls her his “salvation.”

I don’t think I need to even say the Nesta part here, all of ACOSF is essentially Cassian helping Nesta climb out of a dark period so that they can heal together.

(Both also start connecting with their mates on a “just sex” situation.)

Both characters think that because of the things they’ve done and the darkness inside of them that they don’t deserve the people they have been mated to.

Obviously there are many differences, but the characters are similar in a lot of ways and what I think this really highlights is just how true that line is in ACOSF about Nesta being a wolf that was never allowed to learn how to be a wolf. Meanwhile Rhys is 500 years older and has always had power and agency of some kind even at his lowest point. Nesta didn’t have that power and wasn’t allowed to really unleash herself so she armed herself with a steel exterior to make up for that lack of power and control. Which is very similar to what Rhysand did when he felt he didn’t have power under the mountain- put on a cold face, not let anyone in, and act cruel in order to get through it.

Overall it’s an interesting character study because in a lot of ways these are very similar characters, but there is such a MASSIVE divide among the fandom of liking and hating one or both of them. Ultimately, I do think that a lot of the hate Nesta gets is because she’s a woman and female characters simply aren’t allowed to have the same flaws as male ones- which is kind of Nesta’s whole life story. BUT I think that Rhysand actually gets unintentionally screwed over by the narrative in one big way. Becuase my final paralell is that I think a lot of people came around on Nesta when they saw in her perspective that she knows she has problems and how much she was struggling… and I also think that Rhysand is so hated by those who dislike him because of Feyre’s ‘he can do no wrong’ perspective. I think if we saw more of Rhysand internally struggling and knowing that he made the wrong call sometimes and second guessing himself he’d be a lot more likeable character. We know he’s capable of this because when Cassian calls him out on the training roof for always thinking the worst of Nesta he just says “you’re right. I’m sorry” and he even *kinda* admits some wrong when he’s so shocked by how deep Nesta’s trauma is. Feyre and the rest of the IC constantly exalting Rhys as perfect when he so clearly isn’t and in fact has a lot of the same “flaws” as Nesta is probably the most frustrating thing about the character, which ultimately I think is kind of unfair because we know from his few perspectives that he doesn’t see himself that way.

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justanobsessedfangirl · 3 years

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The Sacrifice Part 2 - The Maze Runner Minho Imagine

Request from @elizabeth-brown: hey when your requests will be open can you do 'the maze runner' one with minho. where one day when new greenie was coming up he had letter with him. on it there was written that if they sacrificed y/n they would let everyone out. so keepers decided to vote. most of them voted 'yes' so without any emotions Alby kick y/n into the maze. then minho realized his feelings. y/n survived the maze and WCKED took her. after one year she escaped WCKED and ran into the scorch. Minho missed her miserably. y/n searched the safe heaven. and when Group A searched safe heaven they saw y/n and she was so mad. you can end it however you want either she forgives them or not. and please tag me

Masterlist

Part 1

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the kind words! I really appreciate all of it! :)

Word Count: 3.8k

The sun was rising. You stared up at it as you walked, your cracked lips parted, mouth dry beyond belief. The cloth you’d wrapped around your head was already growing warm. Beneath your long-sleeved shirt and jeans, your body was scarred with sunburns. Your backpack hung heavy on your shoulders and scraped against your back painfully. Still, you kept walking through the sand.

Crumbling buildings lined the barren street. At the end, next to an intersection, you saw one that still had an intact roof. You willed yourself to move faster, but your steps continued in the same plodding manner as before. The sun beat down heavier.

A dry wind whispered past, bringing swirls of sand to flight. They looked beautiful in the golden rays of the morning but cut like glass as they whipped past your cheeks. With a grimace, you reached a weathered hand up and pulled some loose cloth farther over your face, squinting your eyes for protection. The sound of your heavy breathing filled your ears.

How familiar that was. How familiar exertion was. Before you could stop yourself from thinking, from remembering, you saw his face. He was by your side, smiling, goading you to run faster. He was betting you that he could reach the doors first.

“If I win, you owe me half your dinner,” came his playful tease, so vividly that you almost thought it was real. If you let your gaze wander, you could barely make out a mirage of him jogging ahead of you.

What was it you’d said, back in that other life, where you ran the Maze and lived in the Glade and weren’t as alone? You smacked your lips together now, looking for any moisture, and croaked, in a hoarse voice, “What do I get if I win?” The effort made you cough. Stopping in your tracks, you doubled over hacking. You expected to see the worn stone of the Maze beneath your feet, but there was only sand. Knives scraped your throat. You tasted blood.

“You can have anything you want,” Minho responded. You lifted your head, hoping for a glimpse of his face and seeing only sand.

Tears filled your eyes. You wanted Minho with you, right now. You wanted to not be alone. You wanted to not be here, to not have made any of these choices, to not have to keep going and keep trying and keep surviving all because of one promise. You wanted to reach the doors -- no, not the Maze doors, never the Maze doors again, the doors to a crumbling building in a crumbling town in the sun-baked, sand-ridden, abandoned Scorch.

Straightening up, you started for the building again. You reached it in a few long, purposeful strides. The door hung half off its hinges. You slipped inside, shutting it as best you could behind you, hoping that would keep at least some sand out. The inside was blessedly dark. The front room seemed kind of like a cafeteria, with a few tables and chairs and a long counter at the back. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the last cafeteria you’d been in. You wanted to spit on this place as payback.

Instead, you walked behind the counter, sunk to your knees, shrugged off your backpack, and curled into a ball. Your head pounded. You squeezed your eyes closed, pressed your palms to your temples, tried to hold back any more tears. The memory of Minho floated to the front of your mind again.

“No need to cry,” you could hear him saying. You could almost feel him tuck a finger under your chin, like he’d done before, and raise your head. “I’m still here.” And then you opened your eyes, hoping to see that cocky grin that would make the whole world would seem a little better.

But Minho wasn’t there. You weren’t in the Glade anymore. You weren’t even with WICKED anymore. You were somewhere in the middle of the Scorch, alone and trying to survive and failing.

With trembling fingers, you unzipped your backpack and pulled out your last bottle of water. It was half-empty. You stared at it numbly. How far could half a bottle of water take you? When you used to run the Maze, a lifetime ago, you never went in without at least one canteen full. Minho had teased you during your first run for taking three. You wondered what he would say now.

“We’ll figure it out together. We’ll get out together.” That’s what he would say. That’s what he had said, right before you went into the Maze for the last time.

I tried, Minho. You wanted to scream it out to the Scorch, let every damn Crank within a hundred miles of you hear it. Maybe Minho would hear it too, back at the WICKED compound, back in the Glade. He said he would find you. You’d repeated his words so many times in your head that they were practically imprinted in your brain. They were like a touchstone, something you remembered for luck and courage.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he’d said.

You’d never said it back. You wished you’d said it back.

You forced yourself to stop remembering and took a sip of water. It was like ice filtering through magma cracks, soothing, soothing, soothing, and then gone, evaporating and leaving behind seething bubbles of lava. You wanted more. You wanted so much more for yourself.

You twisted the cap back on and shoved your water into your bag before you did something you’d regret. Leaning against the counter, you let your eyes close. Fatigue made your limbs heavy, and the warm air settled over you like a blanket. You hoped the sun would be gone when you woke up. Then you would walk, as you had for countless nights, with no real directions in mind, only the understanding that you needed to keep moving or else you would die. Somewhere out there, there was a safe haven.

But in your dreams, there was darkness, and in the darkness, there were Grievers. The Maze walls, dripping with ivy, closed in around you as you ran. Your breaths came short and fast, more from fear than effort. You had no bag, no weapons, just the shoes on your feet and a little bit of hope in your chest. But the Grievers were closing in.

Mechanical limbs whirred, slamming against the Maze floor so forcefully the ground seemed to shake. You whipped your head around, caught a glimpse of them, turned back and ran faster, looked again and saw them even closer. Metal clanged together, the sound of razor-sharp fangs gnashing, slick with slime. A rush of wind sliced past your arm. You tried to move faster, just a little faster, just enough to keep narrowly avoiding the Griever’s claws, just enough, please, just enough to make it to sunrise--

A wave of fire burned a line across your back. The pain was white-hot, so bad you couldn’t keep your eyes open, you were stumbling and faltering and barely moving and the Griever was going to get you, only with your next step you felt nothing but open space and then you were falling and falling and falling.

You hit the ground so hard the air went out of you, and only then did you realize you’d been screaming. A moment of shock passed. Then you shrieked again. Your back burned with pain, but it wasn’t fire, not like you’d thought at first, it was a cut, huge and sprawling and parting the flesh of your back. Blood drenched your shirt. You screamed, blind with pain and fear, waiting for the Griever to finish you off or sting you and send you into a spiral of even greater misery.

Something grabbed your arms, hoisted you up, strapped you down. The Grievers have me, they’ve got me, they’re going to kill me, you thought, even as you felt human hands and heard human voices and saw human faces.

“No!” You caught a glimpse of one of them holding a syringe, a Griever in disguise. Twisting away, trying to avoid it, you let out a scream so loud you thought your vocal cords would be torn to shreds, just like your back, just like the ravaged mess that was left of your back. The needle pierced your skin.

Immediately, your yells dropped off. The people or the Grievers or the Grievers masquerading as people laid you face down on a stretcher. You couldn’t move your neck, or your arms, or your feet, but every step they took as they carried you sent bolts of lightning through your body. Your face was wet with tears, with blood. The jostling stopped. Every nerve in your body rebelled in pain, and then there was a cold hand on your cheek, forcing your chin up. Grinning down at you was the face of the devil.

You woke now with a start, a cool sheen of sweat coating your body, phantom pains chilling your back. Your heart thundered wildly. Acting on pure instinct, you shot to your feet, looking frantically around the room. She would be there, you were sure of it. The devil, with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, her lips painted red with the blood of her victims.

But the room was dark and empty and you were alone.

You untensed with a long, slow exhalation. Tiny daggers still ran up and down your spine, dancing along the scars the WICKED doctors had said they couldn’t fix.

“An unfortunate variable,” the devil had said about the Grievers, “but necessary.”

Necessary.

You spat on the floor, wishing it was her pristine white cafeteria, half-hoping you’d look up and see her standing there so you could strangle her. But that thought was fleeting and your head shot back up in fear, scanning the room again and again to reassure yourself that Dr. Paige was nowhere to be seen.

When you were sure there was no one lurking in the night-shadowed corners, you hefted your backpack onto your shoulders and made for the door. Outside, the desert air was chill and dry. The occasional wind stirred the sand as you walked, footsteps making quiet whispers along the dusty sidewalk. Moonlight paved the way forward.

Goosebumps covered your arms as you replayed your dream, your memories, over again. Yes, the Grievers had gotten you, but not the ones in the Maze. It was the hidden Grievers, the ones who said they were good, and that they were going to save the world, and that you were helping.

“Thank you for participating, Y/N,” Dr. Paige had said. “I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant experience. The data we gathered on the group’s response to a requested sacrifice will prove very useful, I assure you.” And she’d smiled at you. She’d actually smiled, pointy, predatory canines on full display behind her parted red lips. “The data from your response will also be very beneficial. Thank you once more for your participation.”

You were too shocked. You were in too much pain. The synapses in your brain weren’t firing correctly, still stuck trying to piece together that the sacrifice was some kind of test. An unfortunate variable. “What...what happens next?”

Dr. Paige had already left. Someone lower in the chain of command gave you a nonanswer about your role in Phase One being complete.

“But what happens in Phase Two?”

There was no answer to that question, no matter how many times you asked. You asked when you were stable enough to be moved to your own room, when you were compliant enough to walk the halls of the facility with a chaperone, when you were obedient enough to eat in the cafeteria among the staff members.

“WICKED is good,” they’d say. And then they would smile at you.

You shuffled through the sand. Reaching a hand, which you pretended wasn’t trembling, into the side pocket of your bag, you pulled out a meal replacement pouch with WICKED emblazoned on its side. Even as you ate, you worried. The dream loomed over you like a heavy cloud, and your food supply was dwindling. You wished for a sip of water, just a taste, a small trickle to wet your lips, something to help the powdery bar go down.

You wished you’d started hoarding food at WICKED earlier. It was only when you noticed that change was coming, that the air was electric and the people were alive, that you started to slip items from the cafeteria into your bag. The doctors had stopped ordering you in for blood tests and scans, which they had pretended were for your back, and then they stopped sending you a chaperone. It was almost like freedom.

“Code Green. I repeat, Code Green. All personnel begin preparations for Phase Two. I repeat…” The message came over the speakers while you were in your room, a barebones cell with a cot and a desk. In a flash, you were on your feet, pouncing on the opportunity. You slung your WICKED bag over your shoulders, ignoring the discomfort as it pressed into your bandaged back. Peering through the crack in your door, you couldn’t see anyone in the hall. The lights were flashing in time with the announcement, strobes of green slicing across the walls. Holding your breath in anticipation, you tried the door handle. Unlocked.

Heart fluttering, you pulled it open a crack and slipped through, shutting it gently behind you. No chaperone sitting outside. No guards patrolling. No people at all. You bolted down the hall.

Thinking about it now, as you finished your second to last meal replacement, the perishable food long since gone, you wondered why it was so easy.

Phase One. Phase Two. Thank you for your participation. An unfortunate variable. Unfortunate unfortunate unfortunate thank you for participating thank you for the data thank you for trying thank you for dying. Phase Two, I should have raided the cafeteria will you be in the cafeteria, Minho are you in the kitchen? Where are you where am I why is this happening what is--

Welcome to Phase Two.

You crumpled the meal replacement package in your hand and threw it into the air, letting it fly with the wind.

Minho’s voice was in your head. “I’ll raid the kitchen, the Med-jack Hut, bring us weapons.”

You shook your head and it faded. “I would have done it if you were there,” you said. Your voice was a croak. You cleared your throat and tried, “I would have…” The words floated away. I would have tried harder to survive.

“I tried so hard, Minho.” You thought of your bottle of water, only a few sips left. “I tried to wait for you in the Maze, but WICKED took me.” Grievers and white-clothed doctors and searing pain. “I tried to wait for you at WICKED, but...I think they let me escape.” An unlocked door, no patrolling guards. The vast expanse of the Scorch beyond, and a snippet of an overheard conversation about a safe haven at the end. “I tried to reach the end. But I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” Sand. So much sand. Lightning storms and a burning, vengeful sun, and a throat so dry it hurt. “I can’t do this anymore.”

And still, you walked. Because there was nothing else to do. Because you were a Runner and Runners never stopped. Because you thought this might be another test, another phase, and you wanted to reach the end. Because the mirage of Minho was nearby, talking.

“We’re almost there,” he said. You rubbed your sand-crusted eyes and tried to find him. “We have to keep going.”

Other voices chimed in, pitched low and hard to hear. You hoped you could hallucinate Newt, too, and maybe Zart and Frypan, who had tried to help, had tried, just like you tried. You moved faster, feet cleaving through drifts of sand.

“There it is!”

You missed the sound of an excited Minho. You remembered the first time he’d had a little too much to drink at a bonfire, and he’d picked you up and twirled you around. You’d never smiled so much.

The memory used to be good, then it turned painful, and now you were just numb.

You kept walking. Around you, the city was fading into sand. Ahead stood a tall dune. You wanted to stop and stare and convince yourself to turn around. But you kept walking. Behind the dune, you’d see Minho and Newt and Zart and Frypan and maybe even Alby, and maybe you would forgive Alby, or maybe not, but you would still see him because everyone would be there.

You boot punched a hole into the sand dune, sending streams of gritty yellow dust cascading down the slope. Stepping forward again, you sunk into sand up to your mid-calf. Again and again, and then you stumbled and fell in up to your elbows, and still, you crawled.

“We can do this,” Minho said, from somewhere above or behind or by your side. He was climbing with you, barely out of sight. His playful grin was audible.

“Bet I can beat you to the top,” you said before he could.

“What do I get if I win?” he asked.

You smiled and there were tears in your eyes and sand on your cheeks. “You can have anything you want.” And you climbed higher.

“I want you to say it back. Please say it back, Y/N. Please.” His voice was fading. You were leaving him behind as you neared the top.

Sand burrowed into the lines of your face, past the seams of your clothes, finding every nook and cranny of your body to hide in. It was in your mouth, your ears, your eyes. You struggled to breathe. Your head felt as light as a cloud. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you finally promised as you reached the empty crest. Still on hands and knees, you peered over the other side of the dune. The slope was empty. Everything was empty.

You rolled onto your back, eyes shut against the fading night sky. Your arm bumped against something stiff. Reaching a hand out blindly, groping for it, you came back with a stick. You looked at it through squinted eyes. Atop the stick was a flag, and on the flag in big, thick letters, the same font WICKED used for everything, were the words, “Safe Haven.”

You laughed. The bitter chuckle was alone in the Scorch. Overhead, the sky was lightening, and soon you would be alone in the daylight of the Scorch, alone in the Safe Haven.

Shrugging your backpack off, you reached inside for your water and the last of your food. The bottle was empty. You didn’t remember finishing it, but you figured you must have. You chucked it to the side, listening as it rolled down the sand dune. You wouldn’t need that anymore. The air grew warmer as dawn approached and you opened your last meal replacement. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear voices. You wondered if you were going crazy, decided you didn’t care because you had tried Minho I really tried I’m sorry please promise me I’ll see you tomorrow please don’t let it end like this please.

You took a bite of the crumbling meal replacement bar and immediately spit it back out. It had soaked up the last bit of moisture in your mouth. You tossed the package to the side, where you’d abandoned your water and your will.

The sky grew pink and orange and yellow, and, finally, there was the sun, high in the sky, and you had no idea how much time had passed while you stared, and you didn’t care. There was no further destination in mind. This was it. And with the sun up there and you down here, you hoped that maybe this wouldn’t count as dying alone.

“There it is!” Minho again. Funny how he kept saying that. And then the voices of the other Gladers chimed in again. You wondered if you would keep replaying that moment until you finally passed. You wondered how it would feel. You wondered if there was water on the other side.

The sand rushed down the sides of the dune in waterfalls. You could hear it, even if you didn’t have the energy to look. It sounded like a whisper. Beneath the whisper was the panting of a group of people.

Runners, you thought. All of the Runners before and all of the Runners after, coming to take me away. Would Minho be among them? Was he dead, like you and like those sad souls who’d been killed by the Grievers (An unfortunate variable, but necessary) and all of the people who’d gotten the Flare, which you barely understood because no one had answered any of your questions?

Why is this happening and where am I going and what do I do and how did I get here and when can I go home, please bring me home, I want to go home and I want to see Minho one last time because I never promised him back and I should have.

“Y/N?”

Minho. You didn’t have the energy to speak or even open your eyes to see the hallucination.

“Y/N!” Feet pounding against sand, then hands on your arms, looping around your back, pulling you close and shielding you from the sun. “Wake up, Y/N. Clint!”

No, Clint wasn’t supposed to be here. Clint had voted for you to be sent into the Maze. You were pretty sure you used to hate him for that, but hate took so much energy, and you just wanted to pretend Minho was holding you until you didn’t have to think anymore.

The people nearby talked unintelligibly, oscillating between murmurs and gleeful shouts. There was cotton in your ears and a blindfold over your eyes and strong hands on your back, propping you up. Then there was a splash of water on your face and the world opened up again.

There was Minho. Better than in your memories, because he was here, in full color, so perfect you needed to squint. He was on his knees and holding you. Above, Clint was pouring water over your head. All around you were Gladers.

“Minho?” you croaked, although there was no question who it was. Dark brown eyes, now filled with tears. Full lips curved up in a smile. Scatters of freckles across his cheeks. Minho.

Minho nodded and pulled you into a hug. “I thought…” he trailed off. Then he laughed, a sound so bright and so happy that the water on your skin felt a touch cooler, the sun on your shoulders a shade dimmer. “I should’ve known you’d survive.”

“There’s no safe haven,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

Minho shook his head, still buried in your neck. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Smiling, you pressed a hand to his cheek, coaxing him to look at you. When he did, you leaned in and finally felt at home.

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Author's Note: I wanted to put a longer, more serious note at the end instead of the beginning so I wouldn't deter any newcomers from reading. I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for letting me try out this style! I'm not very happy with how this turned out but it was good practice. Hopefully, I can use this experience and write better pieces in the future. Thanks again for letting me experiment and for the encouragement. And my requests are always open :)

Tag List: @officialfictionalwreck @elizabeth-brown @newtsgirl-hehe @jjjmaybank @adoregin

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pretend-writer · 3 years

Text

Down Below (Chapter 78)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 2k words

Warning: swearing, mention of death and violence

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

Couple of McCreary's criminals stayed behind with the guards, with a help of Indra watching over them. Meanwhile, I've decided to interrupt Russell with a surprise visit.

I insisted I'd go alone, the less people the better especially knowing that Russell wasn't quite the violent type; There was no way he’d lay his hands on me, I had no worries about him at all. He had killed Clarke because of his greed, I highly doubt that he'd kill more of us out of anger.

Some people disagreed with me, not surprised. Of course Bellamy, Josephine and Murphy wanted to come with me, Jordan wished to tag along too. Delilah being sacrificed for the prime hit him pretty hard, I didn't blame him for wanting to confront him.

As we barged into the lab, we were greeted with a startled look on all of their faces. Simone and Emori instantly looked upset, Abby looked like she was dying for her next fix.

'How in the hell did you guys escape?' Simone cursed, stepping up in front of me.

'It's not very hard, you know. Now would you guys be so kind and give us back the blood you made.' Murphy took out his hand, motioning them to hand it over.

Approaching fast, Emori reached for John's hand. 'John, what are you doing?'

'We can't let them continue to deceive and kill their innocent people, it's not right. Now they got us involved too.'

'Just hand us the damn blood.' I walked over to Simone that had it in her hands, 'Haven't you guys lived enough already?'

Simone chuckled, 'You don't get it do you?'

'What, killing people thinking their sacrificing themselves to false Gods? Of course I don't get it, I'm not a homicidal bitch like you.'

She reached her hand out, smacking my cheek while holding the blood in her other hand. I couldn't react and get her back as Bellamy was quicker than me, grabbing Simone's collar. 'Get your fucking hands off of her.'

'Let go of my wife!' Russell screamed at Bellamy, trying to reach over her but was suddenly distracted by Murphy.

He had snatched the blood off of Simone's hand, laughing as he hugged it in his arms. 'You guys are awfully slow.'

'Do you really think that's a smart move, Murphy?' Russell rolled his eyes. 'One word and the guards will storm in here and shoot you without a warning.'

'You shoot me, I drop this bad boy and the blood is destroyed. You really want to do this Russell?'

He huffed, turned to look at Emori and back to John. 'You fucked everything up, you know? I trusted Emori when she said you were with us.'

'That's your own fault for trusting her, I never agreed to this. I honestly just want you dead.'

'What do you guys want from this anyway? Why do you care what our community is doing? These people believe in us, believe that the Primes store peace and prosperity to Sanctum.'

How can that come out of Simone's mouth? Saying that their community chose to sacrifice their lives for a God that they've made up? 'They sacrifice themselves because they believe in the lies you told them. I care because you're killing your own people.'

'Can we just compromise? Agree to disagree and live on with our lives as we did these past few days?' Josephine tried to be the middle of man of this, siding with her family as well us siding with us.

'I thought I made a deal to compromise with Russell but he chose to betray me instead.' I looked at Josephine, understanding where she was coming from but hoping that she will finally realize that what her family has been doing is completely wrong. 'This outcome is all your father's fault. I didn't want any of this to happen.'

'Whatever happens to me and my people are none of your damn business! What we do does not concern you at all!' Simone raised her voice at me, veins tracing down her face as she seemed angry as ever.

'Now that you're getting us involved, it certainly is. We don't have to make these stupid blood for you, you know that right?'

Murphy's POV;

Y/N and Simone have been yelling at each other for quite sometime now, I'd want to help her but I wasn't in the position to defend her. Besides, she could handle herself well.

Simone's facial expression changed as she heard the words come out of Y/N's mouth, it was as if she had triggered her.

'I've had enough of your attitude already.' Simone screamed as she charged at Y/N, punching her in her stomach.

Before I was able to jump in to help, Y/N grabbed her arm, twisting it to the opposite direction that had Simone scream even louder. Turning her whole body around, she then kicked her back which had her falling next to Russell.

As Simone fell to the ground, she breathed. 'What happened to no violence?'

'You fucking punched me in the gut, I'm not just going to stand there.'

Just as I was about to make a snarky comment at Simone, Abby had snatched the blood from my hand. I quickly turned to her, 'What are you doing?'

Abby wasn't listening and instead ran out the lab. All of us trailed her from behind, ending up next to the airlock chamber. She had locked herself in the chamber, attempting to float herself and the nightblood with her.

Her hand was on the lever, her other arm tightly holding onto the nightblood. Y/N approached closer to her, trying convince her from the other side of the airlock. 'Abby, let's rethink this okay?'

'Don't fucking tell me what to do!' Abby yelled, tears running down her cheeks. 'Why do you care anyway, they lose the blood and you get to see me float myself. Win-win situation for you, I'd say.'

Y/N huffed, shaking her head. 'Don't be fucking stupid. I don't agree with you nor did I enjoy being threatened by you at the bunker but I don't want you dead, Abby.'

'I've lost everything, Y/N!' Abby started to sob, 'Russell killed my daughter, Marcus left me. I have nothing left, what do you know about loss?'

'We've all lost something, Abby.' I approached her also, standing next to Y/N. 'You guys sent us down to Earth when we were only kids, when we barely understood right from wrong. A lot of us lost parents, not that I really cared but some do. I understand that you're angry and frustrated but don't tell us we don't know how you're feeling.'

Y/N had never fully told me what happened down at the bunker, all I know is that Abby had done something to her, something that she will never forgive her for. She never told me the whole story, said that she wanted to forget everything because it was so awful what happened.

Even with all the altercation between her and Abby, Y/N was still trying to stop her from floating herself out of the airlock. I know how much the bunker had messed her up, I was honestly surprised that she was willing to help Abby.

‘Why are you trying so hard to help me? I’m the one that’s responsible for your misery right?’ Abby looked straight into Y/N’s eyes.

‘Like I said, I don't want you dead. I'll never forget what happened but we can always work our way to forgive. We’ve all worked our way through hell, we can get through this too.’

I admire Y/N’s strength, which are one of the reasons why I loved her so much. Watching her fight for Abby made me feel stupid about letting her go, being dumb enough to not say I love you back to her.

Abby nodded her head, ‘You’re right Y/N. You’re right. I’m sorry.’

She opened the airlock and slowly walking out as Y/N rubbed her hand on Abby’s back, trying to comfort her while she continued to sob.

'Maybe it's time to end all this, dad. We've done enough already.' Josephine said, surprisingly. Perhaps all of this have overwhelmed her, finally understanding that it wasn't worth the pain they were causing.

Russell inhaled dramatically, rolling his eyes as everyone had their eyes on Y/N and Abby. ‘Don't be a fool, Josie. It's never over.'

'If that's how you feel, so be it.’ Abby suddenly shoved Y/N to the side, pulling Simone from behind her and yanking her into the airlock chamber with her. Bellamy, having the faster instinct, caught Y/N before she fell to the ground.

‘Let me out, Russell! Help me, please!’ Simone banged on the glass from the other side as Abby locked the chamber again. ‘Anybody, help me out please!’

‘Simone!’ Russell looked at Bellamy, Jordan and then to me, panic all over his eyes as he tried to look for help. ‘Please get my wife out of there.’

Abby shook her head, ‘It’s too late now.’

Y/N pushed Bellamy’s arms out of her way, running towards the airlock as she screamed. ‘Abby, don-’

She was too late, Abby had pulled the lever as if she was committed to do so. Abby seemed as though she was ready to float herself, I doubt that Y/N would've convinced herself otherwise.

Bellamy pressed the button to close the airlock, comforting Y/N as she looked distraught. It was selfish of me to feel jealousy towards Bellamy, when Y/N needed someone to lean on when one of our people had died tragically. I couldn’t help it, I was mad at myself for fucking everything up.

Josephine and Russell on the other hand was emotionless, Simone was gone faster than the snap of a finger. They’ve probably haven’t gotten the grasp of any of this, since they were not familiar with the floating method.

‘What... did you guys do...’ Russell mumbled, staring into space as if he was staring at a ghost.

‘Seems like Abby took your wife for taking her own daughter away from her. Fair trade I should say.’ Jordan said angrily. I didn’t think he had it in him to say such harsh words, even though we all know we were all thinking the same thing.

Josephine shook her head. ‘We did a shitty thing, I know. But was that really fair? How dare you say that, she murdered my mother!’

‘Just how you murdered our friend! Just as how you murdered Delilah, she didn’t know the whole truth about what she was sacrificing herself for!’ Jordan took a step toward Josephine, screaming his lungs out. ‘Your family has been doing this for years, there’s no excuse for that!’

A sudden loud bang echoed, Jordan falling hard onto the floor without saying another word. Josephine screamed, looking at her father with a gun in his hand which was aimed towards Jordan.

Josephine froze into place as the rest of us ran towards Jordan to see if he was alright, but it was too late once again. He was already bleeding to death, bullet going straight through his chest.

'None of you guys move or I will shoot again.'

Everything had clicked; I really should've had killed Russell when I had the chance. I could've protected Jordan, I bet Monty was ashamed of me and all of us that it ended up being this way.

Or maybe Y/N was right, if we just accepted the trade, no one would end up getting hurt. Sure, Russell would still live but he wouldn't be an issue as long as he stayed in Sanctum.

None of this would've happened if I'd just stopped Emori from this, while we were marching back to the ship. I could've said something before we left Sanctum. There were so many chances where I could've stopped this and I did nothing.

And now Russell is unpredictable, all hell broke loose and he had gone insane. His lover was gone, forever and there was no going back. Abby and Jordan were gone and we might lose more of our people, even lose the love of my life because of my stupid choice.

#the 100 series #down below series #bellamy blake series #john murphy series #bellamy blake x reader #john murphy x reader #bellamy blake fanfic #bellamy blake rewrite #the 100 rewrite #raven reyes x sister!reader #bellamy blake fic

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mhevarujta · 3 years

Text

Zoya and the Darkling [Rule of Wolves Spoilers]

It’s a pity that fandoms mostly focus on romantic/sexual relationships, because The Darkling and Zoya have one of the most epic dynamics in the Grishaverse. The way they affect each other is so complex.

Zoya did not go to the Little Palace after being tested in the usual manner of Grisha travelling across Ravka to recruit children with powers. She was a young girl, a child really, living with a bitter and broken mother, in a home where her Suli inheritance was not appreciated, in a country that would condemn her both because of the power she let her demonstrated AND because of who she would have been without it. She was basically sold as a child-bride and her mother deluded herself into thinking that her daughter would not be raped by the old man she was marrying so that she’d feel better about herself, not to mention that she poisoned Zoya with her fears and made her afraid of her own heart. At the wedding her power broke loose and her aunt took her to a hard journey to the Little Palace so that Zoya would be tested and have a chance at a better life.

Zoya was taken in and she was separated from her family, but her aunt was ALWAYS in her heart. She started training and she was stronger than most, she was also driven and resilient. She arrived at the Little Palace when she was 8-9. When she was 13, she was the youngest one to be chosen as part of a group that would travel with the Darkling to Tsibeya to find the white tigers of Ilmisk because one of them was supposed to be an amplifier. By that age, Zoya was half in love with him already and she lived for his rare appearances at the school. She was the best, she had fought to be so, and he wanted him to see it. The Grisha were focused on hunting the female tiger, but the amplifier was a male one. He tried to kill the female’s cubs and Zoya gave them the protection of her body, she got scars that she never had tailored and she almost died, and killed the tiger to defend the cubs; not for the sake of power.

It wasn’t HER turn to get the amplifier, but since she killed the tiger only she could claim it. And THIS brilliant scene happens:

Some part of me always feared that he would send me away, banish me forever from the Little Palace. I told him I was sorry.

“But the Darkling saw me clearly even then. ‘Is that really what you wish to say?’ he asked.”

Zoya pushed a dark strand of her hair behind her ear. “So I told him the truth. I put my chin up and said, ‘They can all hang. It was my blood in the snow.’”

Nikolai stifled a laugh and a smile played over Zoya’s lips. It dwindled almost instantly, replaced by a troubled frown. “That pleased him. He told me it was a job well done. And then he said … ‘Beware of power, Zoya. There is no amount of it that can make them love you.’”

The weight of the words settled over Nikolai. Is that what we’re all searching for? Was that what he’d hunted in all those library books? In his restless travels? In his endless pursuit to seize and then keep the throne? “Was it love you wanted, Zoya?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. I wanted … strength. Safety. I never wanted to feel helpless again.”

“Like calls to like” fits the Darkling and Alina, but it also fits Zoya and the Darkling… in fact it fits Zoya and Aleksander even more so. Both were powerful and KNEW it. Both eventually learned to be unapologetic about it and saw it as their safety net. Both were taught that power would give them safety, survival, fulfillment in some ways, but not love. And yet, as much as they denied it and hid their hearts they DID want to be loved more than anything.

Zoya only rises thereafter. She gets her rank, she is one of the most valued Grisha in the Little Palace, she is admired for her strength and beauty, she armors herself with arrogance, and ruthlessness. But she has not friends. Both her and the Darkling are surrounded by people, they are admired, but they don’t have people close to their heart. The Darkling always cared about Baghra as much as he could still manage and Zoya cared only bout Liliyana and Lada (an orphan girl that her aunt had taken in).

The Darkling SAW her. He saw how she tried like no other, he saw her pain, her anger and he considered these to be things that he could use to control her and to push her towards the direction he desired. And despite not being appreciative of her devotion when he had it, he missed it when it was gone.

When Alina got in the picture everything changed for Zoya. Yes, Zoya had feelings for the Darkling and I DO believe that her feelings and vanity would have been hurt to some extent by the intimacy in the way he approached Alina, but the primary problem was Zoya’s sense of injustice. Zoya had tried for YEARS, had trained hard, had sacrificed to be where she is. Alina never asked for any of it, but from Zoya’s perspective Alina would have been an untrained Grisha who got all the status, power and recognition that SHE had fought for without even trying. Until then, Zoya had been praised for wanting power, but when her anger is not convenient anymore, the Darkling punishes her for it and does not have a second thought about her.

And yet she remained loyal as always.

Even more so than rank, the Darkling and Liliyana were Zoya’s safety-net. And in ONE MOMENT, by genociding Novokribirsk, Zoya’s own mentor, the one who gave her safety and who was meant to create a haven for the Grisha, a person who KNEW her and who KNEW that she had family there, showed that he had no care for her, not care for human life and she wiped out the last people that Zoya loved.

He left her broken inside. In Siege and Storm, Zoya was at her lowest. She has to plead to Alina to have a position in the second army and she has to reveal a part of her heart; not just her loss of Liliyana. Her voice BREAKS when she says that the Darkling could have warned her of his plan; her pain at the idea that he did not give a crap about taking EVERYTHING from her is raw and cutting.

But she is not a quitter. She adjusts, she pulls her pieces together fast, she is a warrior and she stays on the right side without a question.

Then the Darkling attacked the very Grisha he was supposedly fighting for and killed half the people that Zoya had EVER KNOWN. And she still keeps fighting.

Enter Rule of Wolves. There is SUCH DEEP IRONY in this book and the way Zoya and the Darkling’s arcs interconnect is a prime example of Leigh’s amazing writing.

The Darkling had told Zoya that they would change the world and he completely stopped paying attention to her the moment the potential of Alina’s power blinded him to anything else. And yet, when he returns Zoya has gained the kind of power that could eventually rival his own. But he STILL thinks that he should be the one to rule Ravka. He still thinks that he is the best option for the country. And once more, he criminally underestimates Zoya and overestimates himself.

Who else is vengeful and afraid of his own heart, I wonder…

Aleksander considered Zoya weak for the very same things that were his own fatal flaws.

But unlike him, Zoya SAW her flaws. The Darkling shut himself off more and more in order to save himself from pain. Zoya eventually opened up her heart to grief and pain to become the person her country needed and to embrace her power. She opened the door, when the Darkling did not manage to do so. She showed more courage than he did… and he SAW it.

Aleksander hoped to become the savior during the battle, he wished to demonstrate how only HE could save Ravka. But seeing Nikolai and Zoya defending the country is the first time it registers that there are others who are up to the task and who may be better suited than he is.

And he becomes essential in Zoya being accepted as a saint and in her rise to power partly because he wants to gain her favor but also because he finally sees all her potential, all she can achieve, how a Grisha queen of such power might give the Grisha the haven they need, when he clearly can’t.

And what is left for him to do? What does he want? He wants to serve the country he loves in a way that will affirm his sense of self-importance (he wants to offer something that no one else can) and he wants to be loved. So his new objective is to stop the blight.

The blight was created because of his own power. This man who hunted down and ruined the life of a young girl (Alina) in order to force her to be his balance, so that he could freely use his power in a very imbalanced way, finally realizes that HE is responsible for his power and that HE can be the only one to balance it and himself. So there is a new path he sees ahead of him: he can sacrifice himself to stop the blight and in the process Ravka might finally see that he always wanted to protect the country… and it might love him back. He KNOWS that he has committed crimes, he does not seek redemption, but he desired for all he has done to matter. And it can’t matter if he is not at all responsible for its country’s well-being and if everyone hates him. He has lived so many lifetimes without happiness or fulfillment and they would all have been wasted.

But he can’t achieve this by himself. This man who always thought that he could do things alone, and who took away everything Zoya had fought for, NEEDS her allowance for his centuries-long life to gain a scrap of meaning. He needs her allowance to be appreciated and loved.

I can’t be the only one who sees what a beautiful twist of fate this is.

At the same time Zoya herself understands the Darkling. She understands how anger and using power as a coping mechanism can corrupt. Knowing herself and seeing how he turned out are essential in her becoming a good ruler. He is the cautionary tale of what she could but will never allow herself to become.

When he explains his plan, she KNOWS that he’ll be in eternal pain and she has does not mind that his will be his fate. But when she sees the aftermath of his sacrifice and when she feels the kind of pain he’ll be experiencing for eternity, it leaves her shaken. She feels that pain in her own heart and this is not a fate that she wishes even on him. Genya and Alina are very much willing to let him rot but Zoya, who also believed that she could forgive him, feels that she has to.The Darkling has not redeem himself. He is doing penance. But as Genya mentions, there’s a fine line when one has to do the math of how much a person has to pay and of how much pain they have to feel before their punishment stops being just and they become victims instead. Zoya, being afraid of becoming him, knows that learning to show forgiveness is the only way forward, it’s the way for her to keep her heart open and not become the avalanche.

Zoya Nazyalensky has become everything that Aleksander Morozova, the lost boy, wished to be. Poweful, eternal, with friends, with a true partner, holding the best position a Grisha could imagine without forcing her rule and finally giving their people a true chance without comprominsing them.

The Darkling was hoping that Alina would have been his balance. We are told how she might make him a better man and she might make him a monster.

But at the end of the day it’s Zoya who allows the Darkling to become the closest thing to decent that he can be at this point.

It’s the Darkling’s life that allows Zoya to see the lines that she will not cross and how to not become a monster.

And it’s Zoya’s ability to forgive him and her willingness to save him that becomes the backbone for the next phase of the Grishaverse, whenever Leigh decides to write it.

The way their paths entangle will always be at the core of the story.

_______________________

@myfriendscallmeraba I’m tagging you because you asked for it. It’s very encouraging to have someone interested in my ramblings.

#shadow and bone #rule of wolves #row #zoya nazyalensky #the darkling #aleksander morozova #sab meta #row meta

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anigerrrr · 3 years

Text

Just a friend from work

Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Natasha doesn’t think that she’s dating the blonde woman, and they certainly shouldn’t as well. It’s not professional.

Warning: Protective Yelena, sister conversations, Captain’s bad acting

(please let me know if there’s any I should add as well)

a/n: Hello! This is my first fanfic written in English for carolnat, and I just love them so much. English is not my mother language so please ignore my grammatical errors lol ! Please do comment if you have any thoughts or questions!

“So, how old is he?”

“Who?”

“That guy you’re dating.”

When Yelena started it - whatever it is, the redhead immediately made a full stop for this upcoming conversation.

“No,” Natasha said, half jaded from today’s mission. “Yelena, I already said that we are not gonna talk about this. Not now.”

“Excuse me, you almost got caught in the middle of the frickin’ building just for replying to someone's text.” Her sister’s brown eyes widened in disbelief, “and as your partner, little sister plus, I think I have a full right to know what’s happening.”

Ok, after all of the universal matters. The Snap, The Blip, The Endgame and The Reunion. Natasha let out a sigh. This world may be peaceful enough - almost too peaceful, for her younger sister to dig into her personal life now.

“It was something important from the HQ, ” she finally made something up, trying to convince Yelena. “Some information. Not anyone I’m dating, and I’m not seeing any single guy either.”

This part was sort of a truth.

Natasha wasn’t seeing a guy.

/ Coming back to earth in an hour. - C. /

That’s the reason she punched the bad guys in extra strength today, almost ruining Yelena’s nose as well in some kind of jump-scare situation. Well, Natasha just needed to end this mission. Efficiently.

She’s expecting a woman with glowing fists.

“You may be the top assassin with excellent lying skills, but you know it’s useless to me.” Yelena teased in a raspy Russian accent, as if she just couldn’t let go of it.

“I’ll take the compliment.”

“And does that mean you’re actually lying to me?”

Natasha smirked, taking off her suit as she replied to the blonde. “You’re less annoying when you’re still a little girl.”

She tried to pretend nothing actually happened in this present, and that’s what she should do for sure. She’s still an Avenger, reborn in the mysterious deal between Captain Marvel and the Soul Stone keeper after the war.

Carol was there, shining like stars in the darkest underground. Vormir was a place of exchange, a place where only sacrifice made deals. But when it was about Carol, nothing seemed impossible to make a miracle in her hands.

-It was easy, you know. I just asked him to return what we had left in that shit place.

-Yeah, I asked him nicely. See this smile? That’s how I got Nat back.

No one believed this story. It didn’t matter anyway, especially when these avengers witnessed Natasha taken back by Carol without any visible injuries.

Maybe just like how she found Tony and took him back at an unbelievable speed, there’s something always mysterious with Carol.

They supposed.

“If you’re taking good care of yourself as Fanny is, I wouldn’t have asked.” Yelena rolled her eyes, and suddenly she saw something unusual on her sister’s back.

“Wait, Natasha. What is that?” As Yelena leaned closer, she narrowed her brown eyes to observe the unusual mark left on Natasha’s back. “It looks like a bite. Oh my God, are you turning into a vampire or something? “

She realized that maybe Yelena didn’t know what love marks were. As far as she knew, her younger sister hadn’t dated anyone since the collapse of the red room.

“There’s no bite, Yelena. You’re exaggerating, it’s probably just a scratch from the fight.” Natasha pulled down her black tank top, adding an extra leather jacket she didn’t usually wear.

There’s a bite.

And it took all her efforts to stay impeccable in front of her sister every time she felt it burning silently, especially after taking a shower or punching someone really hard.

Carol did that.

“Alright then, time for dinner?” Yelena shrugged, putting her oversized hoodie on.

“Yeah, sure.” Natasha didn’t catch the full sentence from her partner-sister honestly, she focused more on the communicator that she’s been carrying all the time.

“Speaking of that…Mom - I mean, Melina. Anyway, she asked if we’d be free to show up for dinner next week.” Yelena said, pulling out her phone from the pocket as well. “I think Friday will be good, how do you think?”

/ Let’s catch up in the compound later, I need to take a really quick shower. - C. /

“Yeah, that’d be amazing…wait, what?” Natasha raised her head up and seized the blonde’s eyes, “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

/ In case you wanna know, I look like a total mess in purple blood now. They didn’t even act like living spices, what a day. - C. /

Natasha stopped, and smiled a bit for imagining the blonde woman’s messy look now.

She didn’t reply a single word to these texts, but it kept coming up. It’s just like Carol knew that she’d always read them as soon as they were delivered.

“Ok, that’s rude.” And her sister finally couldn’t take it any longer. “Admit it, Natasha. You’re apparently disturbed by someone that you don’t wanna tell me, why is that?”

Then, Natasha realized that Yelena was still standing in front of her the whole time. She didn’t pay attention to anything this young woman said about free or show. Or dinner.

Fantastic.

“I’m dealing with something important,” walking together out of their changing room, Natasha answered softly. She’s hiding her vague feelings of guilt. “- from work.”

“Natasha, we’re working together.”

“Ugh, that’s different. That’s…” As Natasha tried to come up with something more persuasive, her younger sister stopped and nodded to someone.

“Oh, hey.” Yelena took a step back, and she seemed a little nervous. “Cap, we didn’t know you’re coming back today.”

When Natasha met the other blonde woman’s eyes, she found Carol’s hair still dripping. Ok, that’s definitely how a quick shower should be called.

“I left a message to Agent Romanoff.” Carol showed her audacity in acting surprised just right in front of the perfectly trained assassins. “Oh Romanoff, I was looking for you. Lucky me.”

“The mission I mentioned last night, remember that? It went a little bit wrong now.”

To Natasha’s surprise, her sister showed concern on her profile. “Is everything alright?”

Wait, Yelena could tell if she’s lying easily but actually believed in Carol’s almost-too-obvious acting?

“It will be,” Carol smiled back, taking a step in to pat Natasha’s left shoulder. “I just need to borrow your sister for a few minutes - hours, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, that’s fine. She’s not actually paying attention to me anyway.” Yelena raised her eyebrow, adding a friendly suggestion to her Captain. “Just don’t let her suspicious friend bother her via texts during the mission.”

“Ha, that’s mature.” Natasha couldn’t help but roll her eyes back again, she knew Carol was trying to not let out a laugh. This woman is literally shining right now.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” Carol winked in a way that Natasha suspected she'd done this a thousand times.

“See you later then, young lady.”

When they left the compound, Natasha shut the door of the training room and almost hit the blonde’s pretty nose.

“Are you fucking serious?” Natasha said as soon as there’s no one else between them.

“You are wearing my jacket.” Carol just smirked happily, admiring how well it fit the redhead. “It looks cute on you, just keep it for me. Will you?”

Something did go wrong, between these two deadly women.

Any one in the galaxy would say it's very hard for Carol to stay in one place for a long time. But she did, she stayed on earth for almost a week, once a month.

And any one in the Avengers’ HQ would say it’s very hard for Natasha to be disturbed by anything or anyone. Even so, she would not show it on her expression even a tiny bit.

That’s just not her thing.

Like dating someone, or texting someone back. Or admit that she’s caring for the blonde ones, not just her younger sister.

But they did have sex (well it was amazing), twice. Ugh, maybe three times, if the very first time on Carol’s spaceship counted.

That’s all, it's a healthy relationship between adults.

It sounds professional.

“You should stop texting me while we’re at working hours.” Natasha sighed.

“Wait,” Carol chuckled, her hair color looked darker when it’s wet. “Do we actually have ‘working hours’ in this job? I mean, when is it not ?”

“When we’re not on a mission.”

“But how do I know- ”

“You’re the Captain, Carol.”

“Oh,” Carol finally agreed with a small smile. “That makes sense.”

Every time. Natasha looked at her and thought. Every time she called her name, not Danvers or Captain, just Carol. The smile just came up like that, like nothing else in this world was more delightful than hearing Natasha say her five-letters name.

It’s silly, unprofessional.

But Natasha did that, once in a while.

“So,” Carol tilted her head slightly, and acted that she’s way more harmless than having power to blast spaceships in a single fist. “What’s the plan for dinner?”

“You’re gonna stay that much longer, Captain?” Natasha teased when she finally felt something was in control, by her. Carol’s thoughts were easy to be studied, or at least she gave in for her.

Carol hummed in a way that Natasha could tell she’s triggered, and dragged her leather jacket’s collar to lean in.

“Depends on what you’re offering me to eat, ma’am.”

#carol danvers x natasha romanoff #carol danvers #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #black widow #captain marvel #carolnat

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jodibodie · 3 years

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I Have Some Feelings

To start let me just emphasize how much I love and adore this show and always will. This was my covid show. Both of my kids loved “Lucifer” and always said I should watch so at the start of covid I binged it and when I say binged, I mean all 4 seasons in a few days and have rewatched so many times I’ve lost count. I think it is timeless, engrossing, original and all around amazing. The writing and the cast were all excellent. The writing was smart and consistently strong and that is so rare. Funny, sad, poignant, it hit all the notes with very few plot holes or missteps. There is not one episode in the entire series that was not engaging. Even if I didn’t like an episode, it was still well done. What a rarity.

The cast is scary good. Completely underrated. Just all phenomenally talented. I don’t remember the last time a cast was this strong. From the core group to both reoccurring and guest stars, the cast was just fantastic.

Tom Ellis, no words. The man deserves to choose whatever he wants to do acting wise. He should have people breaking down his door. He can truly do it all and do it all well. He took a character that if portrayed by a lesser actor could have come off as a complete asshole and made him one of the most sympathetic and loveable characters in recent history. Ellis made a crime solving devil, a promiscuous man-child that occasionally breaks into song and the evidence room into a beloved character that has become an icon.

Lauren German, WOW. She is just so damn good. She can break your heart one second and have you laughing the next. She makes Chloe real, and people don’t realize how hard that is. Chloe is smart, kind, tough and gorgeous but she’s also an insecure dork. She’s us and German just brings it.

DB Woodside I’ve loved since “Buffy”. He is a phenomenal actor and who knew he could bring the laughs so well? His expressions were classic. Clueless angel indeed. Amenadiel could have been very one-dimensional but because of Woodside’s talent he became fully fleshed out and full bodied.

I have no doubt Lesley-Ann Brandt has a huge career in front of her. She took a character that very well could have been hated, a demon and made her into one of the most human characters on the show. Kudos to her for taking a tough role and making it her own.

Kevin Alejandro is another actor I’ve loved for a long time. He also took a character who if we’re going to be honest here did so many unlikeable things that he should have been truly despised but because of Kevin’s portrayal he was beloved. Great actor and a terrific director.

Rachael Harris IMO is the downlow MVP. She was literally the rock and again, with a lesser actress the role could have been a throwaway. The normal human, the sounding board but Harris imbued her with so much more. Her spit takes, sarcasm and her obvious compassion was what made Dr. Linda an unforgettable character. Once again just perfect casting.

Aimee Garcia was a great addition. She made Ella a fan fav and put so much heart, joy and sincerity into Ella never once did you doubt that she would prevail no matter what was thrown at her. Garcia was just fantastic, and I want her skin care regime.

Scarlett Estevez pulled off the one thing I thought almost impossible. She took the role of a young child and made it so I didn’t want to cringe. She portrayed Trixie so beautifully from day one that she was a true pleasure to watch. Even though Trixie was super precocious Estevez never made her obnoxious. I loved Trixie and I have never said that about any child character in an adult show. She was wonderful and has an amazing career in front of her.

That said, I’ve got some feelings now that I’ve seen the finale and have had some time to digest it all. I love that Chloe and Lucifer had eternity and I agree that they had to be separated for Chloe’s lifetime. Didn’t like it but it’s the logical path. She’s human, he’s not. The ageing thing alone necessitated them not being together long term on earth and that’s just to start the list. They had to had to be apart for the short term to get their eternity but the duality of Lucifer's ending and Amenadiel's didn't sit right. Amenadiel as God got to have it all. His calling, his family etc. while Lucifer had to give up everything. I also don’t buy the “If he came up from hell, he could never leave them again” defense. I call bullshit. Amenadiel managed, plus, missing out on the day to day is a huge sacrifice and by Lucifer missing out on the day-to-day Rory could still have had the hatred she needed to drive the story. Popping in for birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc., the big stuff does not a father make. Not being there for skinned knees, first heartbreaks, and all the little things a daughter needs her dad for can build up tons of resentment. Boom, absentee father, just like his dad was. That provides all the millennial angel angst you could ask for. I have a daughter; it doesn’t take much.

The Trixie issue was huge for me. Can Chloe see her in Heaven? Will she be able to travel to Heaven and visit Trixie, Penelope, Dan, her father? Chloe hesitated leaving Heaven in 5x16 because she couldn’t bear saying good-bye to her dad again. It seems as if Chloe sacrificed everything for Rory including Trixie. I want to preface this by saying. I liked Rory and loved the actress. I didn’t however like how it was as if she were their only child. When Lucifer spoke of family Trixie was not mentioned. Their family day, the same thing. She didn’t need to be there, I get that the explanation regarding Rory would have been way too much to get into but just a mention of her, how awesome it would have been to share this day with her would have worked. It seemed as if Lucifer went from, “I would do anything to protect that little Urchin” to “Trixie who”. Trixie was a character that we watched grow up and she meant something to us. I hate to say this, but the writers did Trixie and the viewers dirty in this regard.

This show was built around a few premises. Free will, honesty, redemption, sacrifice and family, both blood and made. The ending completely negated almost all of these. Chloe and their entire family were made into the one thing Lucifer abhorred the most which are liars. Their daughter was brought up surrounded by lies. What did they tell Trixie? The poor kid just lost her dad, and she was pissed at Lucifer when he went back to hell the first time. Did she grow up hating him because as far as she knew Lucifer left her mom again without saying good-bye and this time it was even worse because Chloe was pregnant. I get that the actress who plays Trixie had limited availability but seriously. A quick good-bye.

“Hey Urchin, you won’t understand why for a long time, but I have to leave. You know I never lie so I can’t explain why but know that I love you and your mom and one day I hope you can forgive me.”

A 30 second scene would have worked.

As all the characters learned throughout the series, omission of the truth is just a form of lying and there are always repercussions i.e., Chloe and Father Kinley, Dan shooting Lucifer, Maze finding out about Lilith and even Ella not being told. As far as free will, both Chloe and Lucifer had their free will taken from them in the end. By Rory forcing them to abide by her wishes, their free will was forfeited. It was a huge manipulation on Rory’s part and considering how much Lucifer hated manipulations it just didn’t sit right.

Parents making huge sacrifices I get. Chloe and Lucifer sacrificed everything for their child. Unfortunately for me this sacrifice, the way it was written seemed contrived to pull out maximum and IMO unjustified angst. I love angst. Hell, this is my favorite show. I thrive on the angst. But as I wrote earlier, all the anger, angst and hatred towards Lucifer could have been achieved without having Lucifer completely out of the picture. I have two kids and my husband, and I have made huge life altering sacrifices for them as many parents do but being there for the day-to-day little things was what made the difference in their lives and cemented the close relationships we have with them.

“Yeah, dad you were great. Showing up for the fun stuff, always swooping in for the big finish to play the hero then ditching us when things got tough. When Grandma was dying where were you? Nice that you showed up for the funeral but the six months leading up to it…we needed you and once again you weren’t there. When T got sick, when Jen broke my heart, blah, blah, blah…”

Even the whole Chloe dying scenario. They could have written it that rage Rory traveled minutes before Lucifer got there. Have him pop in right after Rory comes back. There were so many ways to achieve the end game they wanted other than the way they went. It seemed contrived and as if they took the easy way out to get where they needed to go. The Rory rage that was the catalyst for her traveling back in time and Lucifer finding his calling could still have been accomplished without the whole Lucifer disappearing storyline.

Now that I’ve finished my diatribe there’s a couple of additional things I would like to say. Lucifer is and always will be one of my favorite shows of all time. There are not enough words to describe the comfort and enjoyment this show has brought me. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the producers, cast and crew. You truly created something special.

To the fandom. Please do not let a polarizing conclusion rip apart the fandom. The only other fandom I was a part of tore itself apart so badly that the FBI got involved. Hence why I waited for 15 years to dip my toe in again. Everyone invested in this show has the right to their feelings. Debate is fine, baiting and bullying are not. The Lucifer fandom like the show is very special. Without the fandom we wouldn’t have gotten any conclusion so don’t let opposing viewpoints tarnish what has been a magical journey.

#lucifer #season6 #spoilers #lucifer spoilers #lucifer season6 spoilers #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #trixie espinoza #rory morningstar #luciferseason6 #tom ellis #lauren german #db woodside #lesley-ann brandt #rachael harris #kevin alejandro #scarlett estevez #brianna hildebrand

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skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru · 3 years

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I'm not sure Gojo has ever even shown an interest to any girls.

He calls Utahime weak and teases her by making fun of her, essentially- which she hates. Mei Mei is incredibly strong and beautiful, and Gojo acknowledges her skill but that's it. I also noticed that in the anime (the manga doesn't have honorifics, so please correct me if I'm wrong) but he calls her Mei-san rather than Mei Mei. Therefore, I don't think he ever tried to get much closer to her than the interactions we've seen. When she asks him if he'd comfort her if she cried, he tells her that's she strong- she wouldn't cry. I thought it was interesting that while Mei Mei's question was slightly flirty, Gojo answered so simply, without any teasing.

He calls Shoko by her first name, which is understandable since they spend more time together being in the same grade. He realizes that her ability is rare and useful, but like with Utahime and Mei Mei he doesn't go any further than that. He mostly speaks to her about work related things and doesn't flirt or tease much at all.

Honestly, I think Gojo actually respects his female colleagues and mostly pokes fun at Utahime because she's so uptight and strict. Shoko and Mei Mei are more relaxed and self-assured, and Gojo recognizes their skills and compliments them for it rather than teasing them. I doubt Gojo really thinks Utahime is truly weak more than he just loves riling her up. Other than that, Gojo's pretty respectful.

Also, in the Hidden Inventory arc, Gojo was bombarded with screaming from all the girls excited to see him. Other than pulling his shades down so they could see his face- after they asked him to, btw- he didn't really do much else. He didn't even react much to the teacher giving him her phone number. His only comment was "what a fun school," and it's interesting to see that while lots of girls do appreciate his looks, he acts only mildly amused.

Other than that one model as his wallpaper, we don't really see Gojo flirt or show interest with anyone. He only really teases Utahime to piss her off- I suspect he hates how much she follows the rules like Nanami does, who he teases often as well. He likely just enjoys annoying people so stern because rules just don't sit well with him (especially because of what those "rules" had done to Geto).

It's just a possibility, but he could be one of those guys who's more interested in work than pleasure- I know, he's handsome, but not all handsome people are players and cheaters. I think that's a horrible stigma and a lot of attractive people irl are judged and criticized solely for their looks. People make too many assumptions on someone just based on their genes, and I think it's pretty shallow to think Gojo's a womanizer just because he's attractive. And he knows he's attractive- but when did being confident in yourself make you a philanderer? Gojo has never used his looks manipulatively at all.

It's definitely a possibility that he would be a womanizer, but I'd say it's unlikely based in what we've seen. To sum it all up, Gojo doesn't show interest in anyone. He teases Utahime often, likely for the same reason be teases Nanami- they're too uptight. Shoko and Mei Mei are both incredibly skilled and beautiful sorcerers, and he does acknowledge and compliment them for it, but he doesn't tease or flirt with them. He's respectful, and he works with them as his colleagues. He didn't get distracted by the teen girls fawning over him either, or suddenly get overtly cocky or show off, only sliding his glasses down so they could see his face, and even then he acted only mildly amused. Also, when Miwa asked him for a picture, he didn't even stay and chat with her or anything (I know she's a minor, but if he truly was a womanizer, he would have at least stayed to hear her compliment him or anything to feed his ego) Maybe ask her "Oh, you want a picture with me? The strongest? How cute~" A flirty comment, a joke, something to fuel his own ego, but he doesn't do that. He doesn't act in a way that conveys he openly pursues attention from women. He just takes the picture with her and walks off casually.

Therefore, other than the fact that he's handsome- and I know many people who would assume things about someone based on their attractiveness, which is a terrible stereotype- Gojo doesn't show much interest in flirting at all. He could be the type of guy who works more than plays- and there's plenty of guys who are handsome but aren't super interested in playing around. Being handsome doesn't automatically mean he's the type to sneak around and have affairs here and there. It's completely realistic for a handsome man to be uninterested in any kind of relationships- not all men are sex crazed, and being a tease to his friends doesn't make Gojo a flirt either. Teasing your friends is perfectly normal.

Therefore, Gojo being a 28 year old virgin is totally possible- not everyone's a sex crazed teen who only thinks about what's between their legs, and basing it on what normal Japanese teens do is unfair. Neither Gojo or his lifestyle is exactly normal, and there's definitely barriers when it comes to experiencing normal youth activities for Gojo's generation- especially Gojo's generation. Yuji's generation definitely has more freedom to do fun things because of what Gojo has done to give the youth more freedom- things he hasn't been able to experience himself in his youth, like playing baseball during the exchange event. That was the first time they ever did something different to tradition, and that was only because of Gojo's consideration.

Gojo's youth was filled with blood, exorcising, and choosing between life and death. The deaths Yuji and co. witnessed were what Gojo experienced as well, if not worse. Gojo's task in his youth was to protect the weak, and he found that burdensome. At least, until Geto betrayed them, and Gojo realized the new burden he had to bear in changing the Jujutsu world because of what it had done to his only best friend.

There are definitely more important things in Gojo's mind than just losing his virginity, like saving people and choosing who to save, whether he should kill or not kill.

Gojo is the strongest, but he also bears the biggest burden- and that burden is something he chose to bear, and being the strongest is something he chose to be. Because before Geto left, it was "We are the Strongest." Now, Gojo worked tirelessly so that he could say "I am the Strongest."

And that's not something you can do while sleeping around. I think a lot of people fail to recognize just how hard Gojo works for himself and others. They just think, oh he's the strongest, so it should be easy for him. But it's really, really not that simple, is it? Especially when you have to do it on your own, and even then Gojo realizes that his strength alone isn't enough to save people. He can't save everyone by himself- It's not enough for just him to be the Strongest, so he works diligently to build and inspire his students to stand with him.

He's actually a very deep and emotional man who cares about his students and especially, even now, his best friend. Everything he does is for their sake- he sacrifices the normal life he could have lived, like Nanami had done, for their sake. And he fights with the higher ups, takes the brunt of their ire, and laughs it off, acting as if he fine, like a dad pretending he's superman for his kid's sake. But Gojo is burdened, and he's tired, and he hardly sleeps, and he has the most missions- he's the Strongest, which means everyone needs him, and he bears it.

Sorry for ranting again tho. I think I went into two different topics lol oops- 🤔

OUR SAVIOR 🤔 EDUCATING PEOPLE pay attention ya'll another thing I've noticed in the latest episode is that in his phone contacts he actually writes Utahime's name properly like formally no emojis or teasing shit he actually sees them as his colleagues people he can rely on his field of work and yes about the whole thing when he bursted into riko's class man was absolutely clueless just silent as a teacher tries to give him his number. I'm pretty sure as a child Gojo wasn't allowed to attend public schools due him being in danger or putting others in danger so he doesn't know much about public schools or normal people in general since he spends all his time with people from the jujutsu society.

That is definitely true just because someone is good looking that doesnt mean he's some cheap womanizer. I see a lot of people shipping him and Utahime together which is understandable ship who you like but I don't think Gojo as any ulterior motives like wooing Utahime by teasing her he just is plainly teasing ya know like friends do but in this case Utahime hates his guts and he doesnt know. I mean it takes some amount of hate to try to throw hot tea at someone 😂

While certainly I agree Gojo's teen like wasn't the best it was like he literally had a full time job at that age but who's to stay he didn't go messing around one time? I'm sure during his teen days he wanted to experience things he didnt get to to but now could because he lives on his own now. But maybe he didnt at all who knows? Which also raises another question, I wonder if he has any romantic experiences? And this was all before what happened in the hidden inventory arc after that I can see him more becoming invested in his duty and with what happened with geto as well would of definitely had a huge impact on him to try harder even though hes the strongest so that the next generation wouldn't have to experience the things he went through.

It's really sad if you really think about it what hes been through and what he has to shoulder all while keeping the facade that he's okay, I bet there were times he cursed his powers and his life....but he bears with it anyways because everyone is counting on him....

And don't be sorry at all! I am actually really learning alot about Gojo from you. Please continue to tell us your thoughts and feelings. I don't mind at all ❤ and thank you for taking the time to write 💕

#gojo discussions #virgin or not?#gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #skipps chat

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rngknsk · 3 years

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The Aftermath

Chapter 1: Consciousness

Sanemi Shinazugawa/Reader (F)

You find yourself alive at the Butterfly Estate beside your closest friend after the final battle against Muzan Kibutsuji. You both are hurting over the loss of your comrades, so you must find a way to comfort each other.

**THIS SHORT STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE DEMON SLAYER MANGA. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE MANGA.**

Tags/warnings: Shared trauma, angst, survivors guilt, slight tw, comfort, slight fluff, reader is a Hashira

You can also read here on Ao3. Enjoy!

It’s not your time yet, young one, you still have a long journey ahead of you.

Be sure to live a life that will inspire others every day, please know that I will always love you.

We will always be here, watching you, waiting for you. We know you will do great, we are so proud of you, Y/N. Live on.

✾✾

Rain pattering gently against the window stirred you from your dreams. You blinked a few times as you peeled your eyelids apart, feeling the discomfort of the built-up eye-crusts that had grown as you slept for the past few days, to which you didn’t realize just yet. Your mouth felt dry as you slowly smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Your tongue felt swollen. Staring up at the dimly lit, wooden ceiling of the building that protected you from the rain outside, you took a few moments to try to recall where exactly you were. You remained in a numb physical state, or so it felt; you just needed to fully wake up. When you did, all of the memories came flooding back.

You tried to pull yourself upright in the bed you found yourself on, but immediately froze as the pain shocked and ran through every nerve in your body. You shut your eye and let out a sharp inhale through your gritted teeth that interrupted the silence of the room, trying to ease the pain. It was then that you realized your left eye was covered. Slowly, you brought your bandaged hand up to your face, pressing your scarred fingertips to your cheek. Your head had been wrapped several times with a bandage that ran at a slight angle across your face and over your eye.

It was a long, final battle between the demon slayer corps and the demons. The war that was fought for centuries, even millennia, had finally been won, and because you remembered your victory, you were able to slump peacefully back into the bed you laid upon. You laid for a few long moments, the ringing in your ears starting to fade away, allowing you to finally relish in the serene sounds of the rain against the roof.

“You’re finally awake,” came a familiar voice to your left. You hesitated for a moment, tears welling up in your uncovered eye, realizing who the voice belonged to.

You slowly turned your head towards the voice before gasping out his name, “Shinazugawa-san?”

He met your alarmed gaze with a kind smile that made your heart feel warm and fuzzy, and it just might have been enough to cure the aches among the rest of your worn-out body. You wanted to tear the blanket right off of your figure and throw yourself upon him in a triumphant embrace, you wanted to bury your face into his neck and cry, but neither of you were in any physical condition for that.

Your fellow Hashira lay sitting up in his bed, covered in bandages from head to torso, arms to shoulders. He was certainly in a rougher state than you, but for good reason. Sanemi Shinazugawa risked his life for the sake of humanity against the demons, and the most feared of all, Muzan Kibutsuji. He was ruthless in every battle he’s fought, but until he butted heads with Kibutsuji, you’d never seen him so merciless. At the end of the fight, you were sure he’d never pull through. Before you passed out from exhaustion and blood loss, you caught a glimpse of his bloodied figure sprawled across the ground. The last thing you saw was Kibutsuji crumbling away, and with that sight you allowed yourself to finally drift off, to that you imagined would be death.

But it wasn't.

Instead, you woke up next to the man whom you’ve come a long way to care so much about. He was such a tough nut to crack, but you and Sanemi had become so close, and you were sure that you’d meet him in the afterlife along with many others, but rather, you woke up just a few feet away from him at the Butterfly Estate. With that you were beyond thankful at another chance. This time you were sure that you’d tell him how you’d truly feel. Now, finally, you’ll be able to express to Sanemi how important he is to you without any worry of an unexpected end, unlike the last time you opened your heart to someone.

“I’m surprised, you slept longer than I,” he continued. “I was thinking for sure that I’d never wake up, and instead I woke up to you still napping.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment. You figured he was trying to make a lighthearted joke, so you thought you’d at least react somehow. “I’m sorry, I thought I wouldn’t make it either.”

“You’re a tough girl, I knew you’d be just fine, unlike the others,” he slightly turned his gaze to the floor, a solemn expression curtaining his face.

Before you could ask, three Kakushi rushed into the room that you and Sanemi were resting in, audible gasps coming from behind their masks.

“S-She’s awake!” one cried as he ran out of the room. The other two hurried to your side to take your vitals.

“Please sit back L/N-sama, don’t strain yourself!”

“Yes, your wounds are still fresh and healing, don’t try to move until the nurses arrive!”

✾✾

Hours later, your bandages were rewrapped after you enjoyed a nice bath with the help of the Kakushi. They had given you an extraordinary painkilling formula that had been invented by Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira and outstanding pharmaceutical expert, prior to her death. It was almost as if she created the formula in preparation of Kibutsuji’s attack. You had learned of the deaths of many, including the other remaining Hashira, with the exception of Sanemi and Giyuu Tomioka. You prayed to them as you sat in the bath after the Kakushi gave you some time to soak alone. You cried, for they weren’t as lucky as you to be able to know a world without demons, to know a world in which you could live free. However, each and every life that was lost during the battle against Muzan Kibutsuji belonged to those who fought valiantly and believed in the freedom that you were so fortunate to experience.

It was evening now, and the rain had finally stopped. The colorful pastel clouds were moving out of sight, and the falling sun gleamed brilliantly between the damp leaves of the trees it tried to hide behind. The dew drops sparkled against the rays before they each slid off of the leaves at their own individual pace. You slowly walked yourself outdoors to the engawa, which is where you found Sanemi. He was sitting by himself, a single leg hanging off of the engawa edge while his other was propped up in front of him. You’d never seen him so quiet and peaceful looking, even with his back towards you. You didn’t want to startle him or disrupt his alone time, but you wanted to talk to him. You wanted to know what he was thinking; what was going through that mind of his?

“Shinazugawa-san,” your voice gently hit the breeze, carrying your greeting to his ears. His head slightly perked up, but his gaze remained forward. He didn’t respond, but rather patted the wood floor beside him. After a moment of noticing his gesture, you stepped forward to slowly lower yourself next to him, gritting your teeth to suppress any signs of pain from your injuries. Once seated beside your friend, you glanced out of the side of your eye to see a single tear rolling down his cheek. The sight punctured your very soul. After all these years, training and fighting beside this battle-hardened man, you never thought you’d see him cry. Of course, he lost his younger brother during the battle, so it seemed he was taking this time to grieve; you were just surprised that he allowed you so close to be able to see him in such a state.

“Genya would have liked this view, don’t you think?” Sanemi broke the silence, fighting away the cracking of his voice. “When we were kids, we would always watch the sun set in the evening. It was one of the things that really helped us forget how shitty the world was for us back in those days. Seeing his bright, wide eyes and that happy expression was what pushed me to continue forward every time. But now…” he finally turned away, wiping his remaining tears with his sleeves. “I just wish he could be here to see it, to see the sun set in a world where we don’t have to fight for our lives anymore.”

You didn’t know how to respond. It seemed as if the best option would be to let him talk and express how he was feeling. It was, after all, better than him bottling things up, similar to what he’s done for his entire life. Genya wasn’t the only person that Sanemi has lost. You couldn’t forget what he had told you about, what had happened to his family, what he had to do to protect Genya way back then. He’s lost family, friends, others… And you did too, but this wasn’t about you. Right now, you had to comfort someone who was very dear to you.

“I wish he was here too,” you spoke, leaning yourself towards him to rest a hand upon his shoulder. You hoped your gesture would help ease him. “I wish… everyone was here. Our families, our friends,” you lowered your head for a moment in respect, saying a silent prayer for those who had been lost. When you looked back up you found that he had turned to your direction, and you locked eyes with him. His expression was absolutely pitiful. You could feel him tense up when you began to involuntarily squeeze his shoulder faintly. “But we must live on. Live on for them, or else their sacrifices would not be worth anything. Please, Shinazugawa-san, know this,” you rested your other hand upon his, which was laying atop his lap. “Every person that you have ever loved is always watching over you, and they are so proud of you, including myself,” you smiled warmly as you concluded your words of reassurance.

Trapped in each other’s watery eyes, there was a sure understanding between you both. You knew how he felt, and he knew that of you. Ever so gently, Sanemi leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. His hand reached up and rested behind your head, pressing you even closer to him. As you both sat there beneath the dimming purple skies, you quietly thanked whatever higher beings allowed you both to survive hell and finally find paradise. Stars began peeking through the pastel-colored atmosphere, and the air felt fresher than it ever had before. You both shared a smile.

“Thank you for everything, L/N-san.”

✾✾

#shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi #shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fanfic #angst #comfort #fluff

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