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thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?

Word Count: 7.5 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: I was planning on having more out this week, but storms here where I live have set me back a bit in getting things out due to power constantly going down. I'm behind, but I promise things are still coming. We have the steamy risking it without protection fic and the angsty Truth or Dare part 6 coming, so stay tuned!

Lt. Riley doesn’t really want to be here, stuck in the middle of the loud, crowded bar right off base on his night off and yet here he is amidst it all. Just wanted to, he will repeat if pushed for an answer as to why he’s come out and a part of him might even mean it, at least that is what he will try to convince himself of because he can’t accept that he knows it’s a lie.

A strong grip wrapped around his glass from his large hand, he brings his bourbon to his lips as those brown eyes scan the place from within the recesses of his thinner black balaclava that he wears when back in civility. His dark eyes are constantly on the move to disguise their true target, flitting from Soap to Garrick to whoever else is speaking around the small group of tables the taskforce has claimed for the evening only to dart back to one person: you.

He eyes you across the bar chatting up some bloke with mid length black hair and a prominent neck tattoo, smiling and giggling in what looks to be a lively conversation of shared interests and it makes his blood pressure rise until he can feel the heat in his face. Lucky for him that the mask conceals enough, only being pulled up from time to time for him to take a drink or grab a quick smoke.

For whatever reason you both have never really gotten along with one another, even from day one. There is something about your personalities that just does not mix, a tension that always leads to an argument. Maybe it is the similarities in your natures, maybe it is because you aren’t afraid to speak out where he is more subdued and calculated. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, whenever you are in proximity it is like trying to force gasoline and fire to coexist in the same place without causing destruction. Sure, you can both be professional in the right setting, force yourselves to work together for a common goal as sergeant and lieutenant and you are good at it, but once the threat is gone and you are back on safe ground, the feud ramps right back up.

So it surprises you when the lieutenant immediately agrees to tag along tonight. He usually isn’t too keen on this type of rowdy fun, preferring quieter company, but over the past couple of months it seems like wherever it is you find yourself he is never too far away. It is a free country and he can do as he damn well please, even though it is obvious the way his stare keeps coming back to you.

He may have everyone else fooled, but not you, no. There is no mistaking the feeling you get whenever his gaze falls on you.

You have noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks the way that somber glare subtly finds you when you are near. Clearly you are doing something right to piss him off and there is something euphoric about forcing his attention to constantly stick to you. Why not play it up? Maybe you like the idea of making him watch as you finally score.

You hope it makes him seethe to see you happy.

Those dark eyes stick to you for a couple hours until finally he has caught what he has been waiting for. He follows your form as you get up from your seat and make your way over towards the bathrooms. He can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity and before you have even let the bathroom door shut behind you, the lieutenant is already on his feet and drawing down his mask as he stalks towards the bastard you were just chatting up a second ago with only one goal in mind.

The same goal he has had for months now anytime you start to get too close to anyone.

Your mystery man has just brought the neck of his beer bottle up and put it to his lips when the shadow from the lieutenant’s large stature casts over the table he is still sitting at. As he looks up he is met with the most intimidating face he has ever seen staring right back at him. The firm stance mixed with the glare in the lieutenant’s eyes within the skull mask gives the man pause and the confidence he once had slips away as he struggles to find his voice.

“Can I help…?” the dark-haired man barely gets out before he is cut off as the lieutenant steps up to him.

“That bird you’re talkin’ to just a moment ago,” Lt. Riley says, his thick British accent deep and viciously harsh from the very first syllable; he’s only got a few minutes to get this done. “Ya best leave ‘er alone if ya know what’s good for ya.”

The man swallows hard trying not to choke as he is caught off-guard by the intense hostility that has seemingly come out of nowhere. “Dude, if she’s with you I’m sorry, I didn’t know. She’s the one that approached me, honest,” he chokes out his apologies, hoping that it will be enough not to get his face bashed in by this hulking specimen of a man.

Lt. Riley ignores his comment and leans down closer to his face, his stare sharp and cruel as he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. His fingers dig in hard until the man winces. “Don’t let me catch ya talkin’ to ‘er anymore tonight, got it? Cause if I gotta come over again you’re gonna wish I didn’t and by then it’ll be too fuckin’ late for ya. I’ll make sure ta put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Do ya understand?”

Eyes wide in fear, the man slowly nods; there is no need to be told twice, not from a man like this. He knows the type of guys that frequent the bar as the military base is not but a few minutes from here and he isn’t looking to get pulverized by a trained professional. A slight tremble in his hand, the man grabs his beer bottle and takes off into the bar with a worried look on his face.

Lt. Riley watches as the man hides himself behind a large group standing around the L-shaped bar near the bartender and a smug sense of satisfaction fills him as he heads back to his own table to finish his drink, content that once again he has succeeded in his mission. It’s not even a couple minutes that pass before the corner of his vision catches a familiar figure exiting the bathroom and heading back to the table he had just left from.

You return to your seat only to find your new friend nowhere to be found. Looking around, you second guess yourself that this isn’t where you are supposed to be, but this is your table; your rum and coke is still right where you had left it. You take your seat and pick up your drink; it’s possible that he had just scurried off somewhere and would be back any second. But as the time passes with no man in sight, frustration begins to wash over you as you realize that this shit is happening again.

It’s been months since you’ve been able to have your needs met by something other than your fingers and for some strange reason no matter how good things seem to be going, it ends in you getting ghosted. Why? Even the few times you’ve had encounters on base the guys you had flirted with for days suddenly go cold and avoid you like the plague.

Is there something wrong with me? you question yourself silently.

Across the way, Lt. Riley downs the last swig of bourbon in his glass, setting it back on the tabletop gently as he situates his mask back down. He doesn’t say a word or offer a goodbye, opting to silently slip out from his seat unnoticed to head outside with a smirk contorting his lips beneath the fabric covering his mouth.

He has gotten what he wanted…well, not all. There is still something else that eats away at him, a specter at the back of his mind, and even as he convinces himself that he is only doing this to make you mad it still lays there in waiting.

Back at your empty table, you finish your own drink and are about to call it a night when you spot your potential lover tucked away at the far end of the bar, hunched down in his seat. It’s odd the way he is sitting; it almost looks like he is trying to avoid being spotted, but that can’t be right, can it? Moving your way through the noisy crowd of people, you make it over to him.

“Thought I lost you,” you say cheerfully and watch him choke into his drink.

He coughs a few times before he is able to get it under control and speak. “Think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says. His response is quick and dismissive as he sets his bottle down and turns to leave, but you are determined to at least get some feedback as none of this is making sense.

You block his path with your stance and watch as his whole body tenses. “Did something happen? I thought we were having a nice time.”

The man uneasily looks around the area, searching for something that he ends up not being able to find, but that only alleviates some of the tension in his brows. “Look,” he says as he turns his attention back to you, “you’re really nice and all, but I’m not interested in getting my head caved in tonight, okay?”

Your cheerful expression falls. “What are you talking about?” you ask in confusion.

He takes a breath; he needs to get out of this conversation fast. “Some big masked guy came over while you were gone and threatened to put me in the ground if I didn’t leave you alone, so that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t know if he’s your ex or something, but I don’t want any part of that,” he confirms. “So, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get out of here before he comes back.”

You want to convince him to stay, that there is nothing going on that he needs to worry about, that it’s just your vindictive lieutenant trying to ruin your night, but the way he is shaken up you know there is no stopping him. All you can do is defeatedly watch him walk away as you say goodbye at any chance you had at getting laid tonight.

But this encounter isn’t completely useless; with his revelation things begin to add up now. All this time you thought it was you who scared off your potential lovers somehow, that there was something wrong with you that kept driving them away, but no. It is Lt. Riley who is going around threatening people to stay away from you, you are sure of it now.

And that makes you see red. What even is his endgame? Things have always been tense between you two, but this is going too far. You need to find out why and now because this is becoming unbearable. He has messed with your life long enough without your knowledge; tonight it is all going to end.

You turn your head back over to where the lieutenant had been seated and you spot his glass still sitting on the table. He couldn’t have left that long ago if his empty cup hasn’t even been cleared yet; if you leave right now and hurry, you probably will catch him. Quickly getting the bartender’s attention you pay your tab and immediately head out into the night ready to get your answers.

Each step makes your heartbeat pound a little faster the closer you get to base. Fueled by the uninhibited state you find yourself in from of the couple of drinks you had, you don’t want the moment to dissipate; you need your anger to power your words so that your lieutenant knows just how far over the line he has crossed.

You make it back on base and head in the direction of the barracks, passing by the dark offices and other buildings that are seemingly empty for the night. It’s late so there are not many places he can be and soon you can see them come into view. That is when you catch a figure leaning against the brick, the light from a cigarette glowing orange dimly in the shadow and you know you have him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” you spit the venom-filled words to him as you come to stand at his side, arms crossing tightly across your chest as you stop.

The lieutenant ignores you, keeping his face straight ahead as he brings his cigarette up to his lips, ignoring your presence like you aren’t even there as he takes a long drag. The audacity he has to disregard you completely after all he’s been up to behind your back makes your blood boil over and you react fast. Instantly you reach out and rip the dwindling cig out of his fingers to flick it angrily to the ground; only then does he acknowledge your existence.

“Don’t know what your fuckin’ on ‘bout princess,” he grumbles as he pulls out the pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and takes out another cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lights it up and takes a few short puffs to get it going.

Christ, did you fucking hate when he calls you that, all condescending and shit and he knows it too. That’s why he always uses it, just to watch the way it makes your skin prickle and your pulse race as it riles you up…just like it’s doing right now.

Your cheeks are burning red hot with your anger and you know by the feeling alone that it is visible even in the low light. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you accuse. “Thought you could ruin my fun and I would just never hear about it, did you? Well, guess what, I did. Guess you didn’t intimidate the guy back at the bar as good as you thought ‘cause he told me all about how you threatened him into staying away from me and now things around here are starting to make sense.”

So, pretty boy talked after all that scaring he had done; fucking hell, he wasn’t planning on being found out tonight. He can’t deal with this right now; he needs to get away before this gets out of hand. “I’m not doin’ this right now,” he mutters as he flicks away his second cigarette and begins to walk off.

You are right on his heels. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” you say as you quickly follow him as he takes off inside to a random room not far from the entrance. You barely register anything about the place, only caring about making sure you are on the right side of the door so he can’t lock you out until you’ve said your peace.

Slamming the door, you press your back up against it. There is nowhere for him to go, not with how you are blocking the exit and it is clear that you won’t be leaving. Goddammit, why tonight? The lieutenant isn’t drunk, but he still has enough liquor running through his veins and he is weary of being alone with you.

You aren’t going to let him be, though; your anger won’t let you. “Well, you got anything to say or are you going to stay silent like a fucking coward?” you ask pointedly.

His fist at his side clenches and unclenches to match his jaw beneath the mask. Gasoline and fire; he can’t stop himself from matching your energy. “Fine, ya wanna know the truth? It was me. You’re distractin’, sergeant,” he says, that heavily accented voice harsh with his assertions. “Throwin’ yourself ‘round like a bloody slag ‘tween the men here and at the bar. Ya like that? Being a cheap piece a meat? Ya think that’s a good look for your rank on this team, hmm?”

You shake your head with a forced incredulous laugh before turning your gaze back to him. The only person who is ever allowed to make decisions about your actions is you; whatever you choose to do or not do isn’t up for debate with any outside party. “What I do on my own time is none of your goddamn business. If I want to screw every member of this operation, I will. If I want to fuck a rando from the bar, so be it. It’s my choice and you need to stay out of it.”

It’s a lie, you have no intention of becoming some barracks bunny, but that doesn’t make the point any less true. There’s nothing wrong with a little companionship from time to time and you aren’t going to let him take that from you. This job is hard enough as it is. Still you can’t shake the question that is floating around in your head.

Why does he care so much to go to all this trouble? Why not just stay away?

The Lt. peers down his nose at you, those striking amber eyes looking at you through the opening in his balaclava to give him a dangerous appearance as they are cloaked in shadow. Standing in front this beast of a man has left many shaking in their boots, but not you, never you. Fuck him if he thinks this bit of intimidation is going to do anything; it’s not.

“It is my goddamn business,” he growls. “Ya talk a big fuckin’ game, but ya don’t know what the hell your doin’. Gonna get yourself in trouble one a these days.”

“Oh, so you’re just looking out for me is that it?” you ask. “I don’t need a savior. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Even he can’t deny that you can handle whatever it is that comes your way. He has worked beside you for quite a while now and there is a reason you were selected to this task force in the first place. No, it isn’t his need to protect that causes him to put himself where he doesn’t belong, but he can’t face the truth; he can’t…can he?

“Besides, what the hell do you care, Lt.?” you spit the question harshly into his face to break him out of his thoughts. “Just like to screw with my life as a part of some goddamn powerplay? You got nothing else better to do than fuck everything up? Pathetic, even for you.”

The lieutenant’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes are silhouetted within the confines of his mask silently stare back into your own. There is a glint in their depths, a catch of the light that makes them glisten as he locks your vision in that stoic glare.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone there, princess,” he warns as he moves in closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly touching. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna get fuckin’ burned. Ya best quit it now or else.”

Taking your pointer finger, you lean forward and poke the tip of the digit directly onto his sternum over his t-shirt and push down. “Make me.”

Hearing those two deadly words come from your mouth while being this close with emotions this high makes his brain short-circuit and he scrambles to get control of the thoughts at the back of his mind; no, he can’t let them get out. For a split second you catch a flash of something in his gaze that gives you pause and leaves you with a strange but familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach before it is gone just as fast as it came on.

Flustered and confused, you don’t notice that his hand has moved from his side until it is wrapped around your wrist as he wrenches yours off his chest and smacks it against the door, pinning it there next to your head. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now,” he threatens as he gets into your face. “Keep it up and see what happens.”

The lieutenant is so close now the sensation from the warm air leaving his mouth is felt against the lower half of your face even through the fabric of his mask. You can smell the bite from the tobacco and liquor as he exhales a weighty, ragged breath. There is a curious tension permeating the space now, filling the area around your bodies until your chest begins to ache with anticipation for something you can’t put into words.

What are you wanting to happen? You aren’t entirely sure you want to admit it, but still there is a growing impatience that makes your limbs tingle as you wait for the moment to break. “You’re not going to do shit,” you scoff. “I haven’t been touched in fucking months and it’s all your fault; you think I care about showing you respect? The way I see it, you have two options: either leave me the fuck alone or I make your life a waking nightmare until you do.”

Why aren’t you shoving him away? Your wrist is still gripped in his fist and yet you haven’t even tried to free it. Sure, your words are ruthless and heated, but you’re still here and he doesn’t understand what is happening. The atmosphere is shifting and he can feel it like a perplexing magnetism, a push and pull that he is finding harder and harder to fight off. He needs you to leave and quickly as he isn’t sure how long he can last under this growing torment.

“Ya best get out, now,” he growls under his breath. “It ain’t a good idea for you to be here anymore.”

His threat does little to make you back down and instead you tilt your head with a cocky smirk on your lips. “Why’s that? Can’t take the fact that someone can actually stand up to you?”

“Not that,” he says curtly.

“Then what?” you push him for the answer.

Lt. Riley stays closemouthed to your question. How the hell is supposed to answer that when your pulse is pounding through your veins and he can count the rapid beats through his palm that is around your wrist? He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves the feeling of it.

The silence is heavy and dangerous, too much and you aren’t sure what is going to happen, but you can’t leave with nothing; one of the many questions you have has to get a response at least. “Fine, you don’t want to answer that one I’m not gonna make you, but if you want me to leave you are going to have to give me something. I’ll go back to my original question: why do you care about any of this?”

The lieutenant is suffocating on the strength of the tension shared between you. It’s intoxicating, more than the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. Try as he might, he can’t stop himself from wanting more and suddenly the fingers on his free hand are lightly grazing along the waistband of your jeans in that sliver of space between your shirt and your pants where just a millimeter of skin can connect with his touch. It’s too late for him now; he can’t let you go.

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat at the electricity of the contact. The longer his touch lingers on your body the more disoriented your thoughts become until you aren’t sure what is happening. You desperately want to slap him, shove him off and storm out, but a secret part of you that has started to glow like a tiny ember in your chest quietly begs for him to keep going.

Why can’t you tell him to stop?

“I can’t let anyone get to ya,” he murmurs with a labored inhale. “Don’t care what it costs.” Those hazel eyes with their blown out pupils never break the connection with yours as his fingers draw a line over your warm, soft skin and suddenly it’s near impossible to pull in enough air to keep you sane.

“Why?” you ask. “Hate to see me enjoying myself? Just want to keep me miserable, is that it?”

Those rough, thick fingers risk a bit more as they slip ever so slightly up so that his palm can rest against the meat of your hip and that’s where he stops. His gaze drifts down just a moment to admire how far his touch has gotten. This is the closest you both have ever been in the time you’ve known each other and it is overwhelming.

A shift in his stance, a half step in closer, his hand still resting against that soft, balmy flesh, and is that the pounding beat of your heart you hear pulsing in your ears? You need him to say something, anything, in hopes that it will break the spell that is making you more delirious by the minute.

“Say it!” you demand as you wrestle with the flood of sensations.

His eyes drift back to your face. “ ‘cause,” he says, that gruff, masculine voice making his words firm, “if I can’t fuckin’ ‘ave ya, then no one can.”

The confession knocks the wind from your lungs and you struggle to intake a breath. This has to be a new game he’s playing at; that’s it, a new tactic to make you lose your shit and destroy you in new ways. There’s no way he is serious, right? You study his gaze for any sign of deception, for him to crack and mock you for falling for it, but all that meets you is a fervent stare that makes your body burn.

“Fucking bastard,” you snarl as your resolve to break away from him slips silently away.

“Slag,” he responds.

A few seconds drag on into eternity as you stare back into those dark eyes, your heartbeats racing faster and faster with each labored breath you intake from one another. This isn’t how this is supposed to go, you are supposed to hate each other, but is that really what it is?

You’re the only one who has always treated him like a person, not some monster to be feared. It’s true you fight and bicker and drive each other mad at times, but not once have you ever backed down from him. You’re headstrong and steadfast in yourself and that is something he respects. And more than that, he desires.

His words, why do they sound so good? If it was anyone else you would have slapped them silly and told them to fuck off, but the way he covets you feels like ecstasy. You enjoyed his attention before and now that you have all of it, it’s all you could ever want. There is an ache in you now that can only be quenched one way and that is from him.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins blurs that thin line between hatred and desire until it no longer exists. As if another is piloting his body he cannot stop. All at once something snaps and before you can fully comprehend the action, he is shoving his body into yours as his hand wraps around your throat. A wall of massive, bulky muscle presses tightly into your curves, pinning you to the surface as he wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips and grabbing your face between his hands, those large, rough things that have more experience holding a weapon than something soft and tender within them, he meets your mouth with an insatiable intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

Things you’ve both buried deep rise to the surface as the dam breaks wide open, feelings that you both had suppressed under the guise of hatred because you couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t admit that maybe there was something there. It all comes pouring out into the kiss with a feverish urgency as you unsuccessfully scramble to contain them.

There is no restraining this fire of desire from catching you both ablaze.

Lt. Riley’s grip is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn as the brunt of his need is forced upon your lips until they sting the harder he presses into you while the stumble along his jaw pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth. The taste of the bourbon that he had been imbibing all night is on his breath, crisp and sharp as it hits your tongue with its bite, but it does nothing to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace and matching it with your own.

You want him tighter against you still and your hands run up the back of his head through the cropped bits of hair that have popped out from below the edge of his pulled up mask. The feeling of your fingers running through the short hairs near his neck as you bear down on his mouth make that hulking military man shudder and you sigh delightedly into him at the reaction.

Is it really that easy to make that big man fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him.

Strong fingertips jab themselves into your hip so that he can pull your pelvis flush against his while he shoves his boot between your feet to pry your legs apart, widening your stance so that he can fit his bulky thigh between them. The curve of your hip is accentuated by the position and he runs a heavy hand across the length of it as he pushes up against your pussy and you both gasp into each other’s mouths from the feeling.

That instant pressure against that gnawing ache in your clit has you grinding on his thigh. “Christ, Simon,” his name falls from your lips onto his while you cling to his neck to hold your body up as you push down on him as hard as you can to get enough friction through your clothing. He lets you have at it, using his leg however you see fit until you can feel the gathering moisture in the crotch of your panties.

“Do you even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he growls, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tastebuds as he shoves his tongue into your mouth past your lips to meet your own so that they can dance.

He has a taste for you now, a craving that cannot be quenched, an insatiable hunger that eats him alive. And he needs more.

Catching your bottom lip, he sucks it in between his teeth to give it a fierce nip that smarts, but you like the pain; it only makes you feel more alive as the aggressive nature of your attraction makes you feel like you are drowning.

“Fuck, need it now,” you demand desperately. “Where can we go?”

The question makes him pause and Simon pulls from your mouth to look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. “Ya know where we are, dontcha?” he teases.

Your eyes drift from him and really look at your surroundings for the first time since you got in here; you are in a bedroom, not just a random room like you thought. There is a small chest of drawers beside a bed not far from where you stand and on top is laying that familiar hard shell skull mask.

You’re in his room.

“Shut up,” you breathe. “Just fuck me already, bastard.”

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he says with a smirk before he is back on your mouth again.

Coarse hands desperately paw at your clothes as softer ones claw at his, undoing buttons, pulling off shirts, shoving down pants; a flurry of lips caressing while limbs frantically move until both of you stand bare naked before each other. The last is his mask that he removes himself; he is about to be inside of, there is no need to hide from you anymore.

You barely have time to take in his striking features: that strong jaw accentuated with old, faded scars, that prominent nose, that stern brow, before two strong arms pick you up and carry you the few short steps to his bed, forcing you down and shoving you onto your back so that you are pressed down against the surface as he clambers on top with you. His hands part your legs like warm butter and he keeps them spread as he positions himself on his knees between your thighs.

Quickly he leans over to the short chest of drawers and flings open the bottom most one, reaches inside, and grabs a small, square packet. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he brings it to his lips and grabs it with his teeth, shredding the top to pull out the rubber. He tosses the packaging to the floor and in one swift motion, slips the condom over the fat tip of his girthy cock and rolls it down the long shaft.

That is it, without another sound he sits back up and clenches his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers hold onto the meat of your hips as he makes sure he is aligned with your entrance. “Ready, princess?” he asks through short, quick breaths.

Your hands grip into his shoulder blades. “Stop fucking talking and get inside me,” you order aggressively.

The tip of his cock is prodding against your opening and you are panting with anticipation as you wait to feel it break through the threshold. It’s right there, right at the point you need it to be to give you the relief you’ve been seeking after the months of agony during your dry spell. Then all at once Simon’s hips rock forward and the head slips inside, stretching you wide open.

You gasp and buck your hips as he gathers the strength for another thrust to slip it in a little more; you are taking him so well. God, he could not ask for more. One more strong thrust and his cock rips into you deep until he reaches the base, bottoming out with a loud, guttural moan.

“N-nh… ah…” Simon groans as he twitches from the constriction around him. “Fuckin’ hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”

Breathing through the intense feeling of being stuffed full you roll your hips into him to send shock waves of ecstasy through his shaft and his head falls forward to hang limply as he attempts to calm himself enough that he doesn’t blow his load right here and now just from that initial contact.

“Gimme a second,” he growls, but you shake your head.

“No,” you say, “waited too long for this.”

You will be the death of him and what a fucking sublime death it will be.

Fine, if you want fast and rough that is what you are going to fucking get. He holds on tight as he begins to pound into you hard, making you bounce with the force of his thrusts up and down as he takes you at this unyielding pace. You are anything but fragile and he uses that to his advantage to be as animalistic as he wants.

The longer he drills his cock into you in that relentless tempo the more lost in the feeling he gets until he is completely ravenous only for the sensation of your body. He has waited so long for this, dreamt endlessly of this, yearned in secret for months for this, and it feels exhilarating to finally have it.

His primal grunts fill the room the harder he gets and you are suddenly swept up in it all as your needs are finally being met. You lose yourself in the moment, whimpering and whining as the euphoria washes over your body to make your limbs tingle. Soon you are so loud that you are surely going to draw unwanted attention.

Reaching out his fingers find your lips and roughly he pries them apart so he can shove two of those thick digits inside your mouth. “Keep quiet,” he grunts as he continues to thrust. “Don’t need anyone hearin’ us before I’ve finished with ya.”

Getting you quiet, he needs something for himself and he knows just the thing. Leaning down over your body, his hot mouth latches on to the side of your throat just below your ear and you feel the sharp sting as his teeth dig into the supple flesh. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up further into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. A token of who has claimed you.

And he is going to make sure it sticks.

It is a while before he unlatches his mouth and when he does he brings his lips up from your throat to your ear to fill your mind with only his voice as his hand finds the top of your pussy so that his finger can stroke over your clit. You’re gonna come and you’re gonna come hard if he has anything to do with it. “Look at ya, fallin’ apart just for me, princess. God, I wanna fuckin’ ruin ya.”

Simon pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that he can kiss your raw lips, making you swallow all his desperation until you are gasping for air. “I’d do whatever it takes just have ya all to myself,” he says, the words husky in his throat as he groans them into your mouth. “Need ya to belong to me and only me.”

Simon leaves your mouth to sit up higher, taking the pressure off his knees and pulling your body up slightly with him, and that’s when he catches a glimpse of your bodies at the point of their union and fuck is it a beautiful sight. The way he disappears inside of you is mesmerizing and he doesn’t want to look away, but he also needs you to see it. You need to know how both your bodies are made for each other.

His hand moves to the back of your neck and tilts your face down. “Look at how well your gorgeous body takes me. Do ya think anyone else can give ya this?”

Your dreamy gaze drifts lower between both of your bodies and stares at Simon’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles as they contract and release with each thrust, his hips plowing into you, filling you up completely as each of his thrusts go down to the very base of his shaft. Your mind is in a daze as you feel him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again before his shaft reappears covered more and more with your juices over the condom.

There is something so primal about watching his cock slip in and out of your tight body, watching as you slowly fall into oblivion.

His amber eyes catch yours and he smirks. Your cheeks are flushed bright and it thrills him to know that it is because of how he makes your body feel. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a picture wrapped ‘round my cock like this,” he groans, his strokes becoming more sloppy as the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt get louder.

The longer he thrusts the more his sanity wanes until there is not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he comes. You can see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrills you more as he becomes a hunter ready to catch his prey; it makes you shiver.

“Ya like the way my cock feels inside ya, dontcha?” he asks in a low growl. “Fillin’ ya full, stretchin’ ya out. Ya think anyone else can give it to ya like this? Ya think anyone else is gonna make ya come as hard as I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya? This pussy is gonna belong ta me after I’m done with it.”

Ragged, broken moans escape your lips while your hips rut up to meet him at the height of each thrust as his voice begins to push you over. Your hands around his shoulders tense and as he strikes into you again your nails dig in, raking across his back in angry red lines that tingle and burn as you drag them down over his muscles. Oh, you are definitely close.

“Ya gonna come for me, princess?” he teases mercilessly, desperately clinging to you as he too is about to spill and wanting you to go first. “Do it then. Come on my fuckin’ cock.”

The way this beast of a man is wrapped around your body, you are completely at his mercy, his size letting him do with you as he pleases and you have no say whatsoever. And yet here he is furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingertip strokes at your clit; he is doing his utmost to get you off even though he could leave you high and dry at any moment.

Never have you ever wanted someone to take away your power more than you want him to right now.

Your hands leave his body only to gather in the sheets, gripping them so tight you can hear threads popping and feel the strain on your fingers. Each slam of that throbbing cock into you causes the warmth to grow in your stomach, each second that passes the pressure gets stronger and stronger. Finally at long last, you fall completely silent and with a few more desperate thrusts that pressure is released and shoots through you white hot as you come hard and fast.

Simon continues to grind into your pussy through your whimpers as he lets himself go and within a few more seconds he too is falling over that ledge, his torso shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he pumps all that built up frustration into the tip of the condom inside you. His hips buck and are punctuated with deep groans until he has nothing left to release and he slowly comes to a stop, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs to help him catch his breath again.

You both stay locked that way as you calm yourselves back down from the high, your legs trembling around his waist, the sound of his inhales the only thing to break the quiet that falls over the room. Once he is able to he pulls out and falls down onto the bed beside you.

Moving onto your side, you look over at him with a smirk. “Well, shit, never would have expected that,” you mutter sleepily.

He turns his head to face you. “Is that right?” he asks in that low, gravely tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “As if you haven’t been flauntin’ yourself to keep my attention. Was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes for months now,” you push back. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me.”

Reaching out his arm, his fingers lock into your hair, tying it into a ponytail in his grip before he gives it a strong tug. “Yeah well we’re gonna change that. Cause I wanna be the only person ya look at, princess,” he says harshly so you know he means business, “the only one that holds your attention, the only that gets ta be in your ‘ead. I’m gonna be the only one that gets between your legs and no one else; I wanna be the one that knows just how ta make ya fall apart. And any bastard that tries to get in my way is going to fuckin’ get it.”

You chuckle. “Possessive much,” you say snarkily only to receive a solid tug on your hair.

“Absolutely gonna be selfish with ya,” he returns as he brings your face in closer, “cause I would rather fuckin’ die than watch anyone else take this away from me.”

Pulling your head to him, Simon licks the smile from his lips before latching onto your mouth one last time. Maybe you two can find common ground after all…can’t be too mad at each other when you’re making each other orgasm.

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jinnie-ret · 8 months

Text

anti-hero

poly bang chan x hero!lee felix x villain!reader | superhero au

genre: superhero au, fluff, angst

content warnings: implied past bullying, implied anxiety, it's fluffy as well though I promise

word count: 3.6k

summary: their paths were destined to meet one way or another. it just so happens it all goes down in a way chan least expected.

header by @writingforstraykids thanks for making this my love!!

for @miuracha I hope you enjoy my lovely :)

this was part of the make miu smile event which you can find here

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The villain of the city, it was fun for you until it wasn't. You yearned to wreak havoc upon those who always judged you, made you feel like a monster, to those who managed to pierce your heart with their disgusting words that had been thrown at you with such ease. That, was your origin story. Maybe in another life you'd be living in a small cottage outside the busy day to day life of a place which was filled with cars, buildings, noise, and more cars. You wouldn't have to fret over public appearances, despite your masked form, the 'Shadow' that haunted Seoul. You wouldn't have to pretend anymore to fight against your lover, the hero who had made everyone feel safe again, feel safe just because you purely existed.

Lee Felix. A ball of sunshine. No, literally, he could blind any foes with his bright, burning orbs, torching their skin, destroying their vision, with indefinite permanence. The 'Blaze' that could never be outshined by anybody.

Oddly enough, such darkness and lightness coexisting meant that the two of you were bound to meet, bound to fight, bound to be fated together.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

News reporters from several different channels were immediately sent out in their vans once they caught word of another fight between Shadow and Blaze happening in the center of the city. And soon enough they were met with quite a rewarding sight for their careers.

Shadow was sprinting as fast as possible, slipping into dark alleyways and cursing Blaze in her mind when he managed to invade her spots and shine light from his scarred hands in order to 'catch' her.

Not long ago, she had trapped some men in a bubble of darkness before she sweeped the streets and did the same to a woman around her age. Of course, citizens of Seoul were terrified, hoping not to face that same choking, suffering and horrifying feeling of being unable to move and left to hear all of their own thoughts. Her darkness was one that nobody would want to experience.

Enter Blaze, here to save the day. Per usual, he threw on his big smile and reassured scared crowds of people that they were safe when he was there, a slight sadness in his voice that went undetected.

There to capture the chase across the city, were helicopters filming from above, the whirring of the vehicles making Shadow smirk from beneath her black veil. What an amazing show they were creating. She skidded round the corner, her shoes leaving tracks of obsidian. Small pieces of tarmac flew up, scraping the backs of her legs. Blaze was only a few feet behind her. He was running at the speed of light, perks of the job. Keeping up the act, Blaze had freed the trembling victims of Shadow's wrath, and directed emergency services towards them. They'd be fine, in all due course.

Shadow panted as she came to a hault, finding herself in a dead end of the road, construction equipment and barriers up, stopping her in her path.

"End this now, Shadow," Blaze righteously spoke, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him.

"End what? It's such a lovely day, is it not, my dear ray of sunshine?" Shadow cackled, dark storm clouds threatening to cloak the city in its grey, velvety blanket of gloom.

"You've caused enough chaos around here!" Blaze boomed in his deep voice, cutting through the clouds and letting spires from the sun creep through and soothe the dull of the city.

"Not quite," Shadow smirked, before moving her hands round in circular motions.

She summoned decaying vines, uprooting the concrete nature of man made civilisation, and introducing it to the lives that inhabited it. There were screams of terror as people got wrapped tightly, like they were being swallowed up by the grip of a cobra's coil. Fallen. Shaking.

"Not this again, she said she wouldn't do this anymore," Blaze sighed, before boosting his form up from the ground and propelling small flames towards the vines, breaking them apart and releasing more and more people from their encaged nightmares.

"Oldest trick in the book, sweetie," Shadow grinned widely, a black tongue sticking out past her lips as she teased the villain once more.

Oh how he wished she wouldn't tease him so much, but she knew he could handle it, he supposed, and he knew she'd be able to handle the actions he was about to take.

"Shadow!" Felix projected his voice once more, "you have terrorised this city one too many times!"

And with that, he blasted her a few streets away, making sure she had wrapped herself up in her elusive, shimmering cloak before he did so.

Screams of joys and cheers erupted around the city, people gathering around Blaze and praising him before he saluted them and vanished before their very eyes. He found where Shadow was immediately, hidden around an abandoned street where they knew nobody would see them. Or so it seemed.

"Y/Nnie, you ok love?" Felix approached the dark spot quickly, a grin appearing on his face when he saw the exhausted smile of his lover.

"That was quite the show," Y/N applauded her boyfriend before they embraced for a moment, her cloak slightly slipping off of her shoulders.

"You're telling me that? You trapped more people than normal in those dark bubbles, making me work harder you are," Felix chuckled and poked her cheek.

"Gotta switch it up?" Y/N shrugged, relishing the physical contact she had with Felix, appreciating his presence. It soothed something inside of her, made her calm.

"Who was it this time?" Felix prompted, wanting to know why she had trapped those certain people. Y/N always had a reason for these things, despite what the public view was. No one would believe that the villain thought carefully about who she targeted, why would they? They saw her as a reckless heathen who didn't belong anywhere.

"Well first, there was this group of perverted guys creeping on some teenage girls," Y/N began, her fingers stroking delicately over Felix's hands. He watched her explain with full attention.

"Mm, fair, ok, and what about that girl, she was like the same age as you, I swear," Felix wondered.

"Oh, her, ugh," Y/N rolled her eyes.

"You know her, love?" Felix tilted her chin up so she'd look up at him.

"Stacey Arnold, locked me in the cleaning cupboard at high school..." Y/N trailed off with a sigh. Black smoke lifted from her her hands covered in the same colour as she reflected on those torturous years.

"And...?" Felix rose an eyebrow, subtly switching the grips of their hands so that he could eradicate the air of her stygian darkness.

"Why does there have to be an and?" Y/N grumbled, still hesitant sometimes to reveal what had happened in her past. Hesitant to reveal what made her feel like a shameful being, a monster on the hill.

"There always is," Felix sang lowly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"She cut off a chunk of my hair," Y/N grumbled, kicking some stones.

"Oh no I love your hair," Felix pouted, pulling away to touch her hair and admire it.

"I'm starting to think my hair is so dry because of the heat from your hands when you're grabbing it," Y/N joked, teasing Felix about when he'd get all hot and bothered, like now, even when he was blushing.

"Wanna test that theory?" Felix leaned closer, brushing his lips against hers in the beginning of a much needed make out session.

Unbeknownst to them, was a man only slightly older than them, traipsing the streets of Seoul after the huge fight that had happened.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Enter, Chan. He had been walking with a blue notepad in hand, pen balancing on his ear which held the weight of his clear lens glasses. Fluffy brown hair sat atop his head, a frown formed on his face as he began to think would a story of his ever get published?

Well, now he had a story alright, the city's superhero Blaze and Villain, Shadow, caught in a steamy situation.

That is, if his boss would ever believe it. He hadn't progressed as far in his career as he would have liked to, always being undermined as an apprentice despite his allegiance to the Seoul Life company for six years. Six years and he was miserable. The newspaper wasn't very popular anyways, the only way they'd catch attention would be with a controversial headline, one that sparked distasteful rumours. Well, at least he had one that would be telling the truth this time. He just hoped and prayed it would get accepted. His other articles hadn't been before.

"No, Chan, no one cares about these supposed musical injustices of artists having no rights over their own music!" his boss slammed down the typed out copy of Chan's story down on his desk in the head office. Deep wrinkles set on the man's forehead.

"People care! I care!" Chan insisted, a look of desperation on his face.

"I'm scrapping it, you need some sort of better story," his boss leant back in his chair, rolling his eyes.

"No, sir! Please don't! I really think it could-"

"Watch this, and learn," his boss's voice pierced through his apprentice's words, as he he promptly fed the shredder beside him with Chan's hard work.

"I'm sorry," Chan looked down, feeling guilty that he once again had not created a successful report for the company. He didn't even know why they kept him around anymore, probably just to collect the coffees and do the printing.

But upon this day, he headed to the top floor of the building and knocked excitedly on his boss's door.

"Yes? What is it?!" his boss called out, seemingly in a good mood until he saw Chan and frowned.

"I got you your coffee. And I've got an amazing story to go with it," Chan was firm with his words, determination and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"This better be good..."

"Another fight just happened with Blaze and Shadow-"

"I know this Chan, that's why I sent out the competent writers of this company to go and report," his boss sighed, sipping his coffee and hissing when it was still too hot on his tongue.

"Well I bet they didn't see the arch enemies of the city making out in a back alley," Chan grinned, raising his eyebrows up.

"Out of all the things I have heard..." his boss pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's true! Look I managed to grab a photo!" Chan pulled out his phone and showed evidence, causing his boss's eyes to widen.

"Well I never... I tell you what boy, we'll publish this, if you can get this story done in 1 hour we'll send it out straight away! We'll publish it online before the other companies can even think about speculating this sort of story. I think you could have us earning some good money here!" his boss, for the first time ever, smiled in front of him. And that was all the motivation Chan needed, all the motivation he needed to prove himself.

It had been 2 days since the article had been published. 2 days, since chaos erupted. Online, hateful comments were sent Chan's way, claiming he was some sick fantasist who conjured up some fictional idea that two prominent figures, although one of them very hated, were engaging in such interactions.

He felt like his life was over. And the company did nothing to defend his name, despite the fact that his boss had been so enthusiastic about the idea and what profit and benefits would come from it. Sure, they caught a lot of attention, but not the right kind. So much so, that they publicly fired Chan, and stated that he was no longer working with them.

For the first time since the publication, Chan dared to venture into the city for a bite to eat, a treat to ease his stress. It seemed, it was only more stressful for him than he could have imagined. It wasn't so bad at first, but then people started recognising him and soon enough he was swarmed in a vicious crowd of people hurling insults at him.

"You sicko!"

"This man thought he could make us read a fanfiction?!"

"What a disgrace to our country!"

"Blaze would never do that!"

"Get him!"

He was spiraling, wishing that the ground would swallow him up, or that he could go back to before he made that article and live the dull normal life he lived before. Anything better than all of this attention on him.

"Stop... stop... I'm sorry... I wasn't lying... please..." Chan cried. He begged. He needed saving.

Good thing this city has a hero.

Before he knew it, he was encompassed by a warm soothing light, blaze, you could say. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Then peace and quiet. His heartbeat that was racing slowed down, and all he could hear was the deep rumbling of someone's voice trying to calm him, and the sizzling of food frying in a pan. It smelt delicious. Perhaps this would be the bite to eat he had attempted to get.

"It's ok, hey, you're safe, don't worry, no one will know where you are, I've got you," the deep voice soothed Chan out of his trance, warm hands cradling his face and he opened his eyes to see a handsome, freckled man in front of him.

Holy shit. It was Blaze. It was Blaze that saved him?!

"Take a seat, I know, it's shocking, I'll sign your autograph later, yeah?" Blaze giggled, sitting Chan down on a creaky sofa, and wrapping him in a black blanket.

"Stop being so cocky, Felix!" a female voice called out from behind him, echoing across the room in the direction of where that divine smell was coming from.

"Give me a moment," 'Blaze', or Felix, whispered to Chan, stroking his hair gently before comically marching away. "Hey! It's not my fault people get starstruck around me!"

"Yeah, yeah! Just give the poor man some food, he's shaken up," Shadow laughed.

Wow. Her laugh was much different to when he had heard her before. It was sweet even. Who would have thought...

"Right, umm, sorry, here, eat up!" Felix fumbled over his words before handing Chan a steaming plate of ramen.

"Ow!" Chan sucked air through his teeth, wincing at how hot it was.

"Shit! Sorry! I forget how you normies are with hot things," Felix rushed, "here, use the blanket to cover the sides, won't be so hot that way."

And that's what Chan did. He used the dark blanket that had been wrapped around him to cover the bowl from scalding his hands, and took a bite of the ramen, doing a happy little wiggle at the taste.

"Told you my ramen was the best," Shadow smirked, arms folded as she leant against the wall in front of Chan, boasting at her lover.

"Never said it was bad," Felix shook his head, before turning to grab a plate of his own.

This was oddly domestic, Chan thought. No one would ever really think about the hero and the villain of the city cooking together, or having this playful, teasing bickering. It was sweet, endearing, and he longed to have that.

"Hey is that my cloak?!" Shadow put her hands on her hips, glaring at Chan and therefore sending shivers down his spine.

"Felix... Ummm, B-blaze gave it to me... I think... I'm not sure... It was all a blur to be honest... I-"

"Y/N, leave him alone. The poor guy was just calming down and now you've gone and freaked him out," Felix tutted, making Y/N realise her mistake and she dropped her intimidating look.

"Sorry... Hmm, well, I guess I'll let you get away with it, you're pretty cute," Y/N shrugged it off, making Felix smirk at her knowingly.

"Uhh, thanks? Umm thank you for the food! It's really nice! And, umm, thank you for, umm, saving me," Chan rushed out his words, making sure his appreciation was hung in the air for the couple in front of him to see.

"That's ok, Mr Journalist," Felix grinned back, taking a bite of his own lunch.

"Ah so this is the one who tried to expose us, hmm?" Y/N's face lit up in recognition.

"Ah yeah, that's me. I'm sorry, I just wanted to get a good story out," Chan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before pushing his glasses up.

"It's fine, and to be fair, I can't even get mad at you, at least you were truthful," Y/N nodded in understanding.

She really had a much warmer heart than Chan could have ever anticipated. She was being so kind to him, so was Felix. He didn't expect it, and so, he put that down to the reason why tears welled up in his gorgeous brown eyes.

"Hey, it's ok, really, don't get upset," Felix put down his food to stroke Chan's back.

"It's just... things will never be normal again, everyone hates me," Chan sniffled.

At that moment, Felix glanced at Y/N to help out.

"Oh sure, I'll help, I can relate," Y/N nodded, hyping herself up to comfort Chan as she sat on his other side and took his hand in hers.

"I-i don't know what to do," Chan's voice cracked

"You can stay with us. No-one will be able to seek you out, ok? And soon you'll be able to return to normal everyday living, people will forget about it, I'm sure. You've got us now, ok?" Y/N spoke softly, hushing Chan's cries.

"Really? I-i can stay here?" he was astonished at the idea but he had no other choice. Plus, they had been so welcoming so far.

"You can. I mean it. As long as you don't spill food on my cape again," Y/N wrinkled her nose and rubbed away at the mark.

"Oh sorry! Umm, well, please, I'd like that," Chan nodded, and Felix wrapped an arm around him to offer further comfort.

"We've got you," Felix spread warmth around Chan's body, creating this fuzzy, happy feeling.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

1 year later, and Chan was still living with the couple. But things had changed, quite massively. Not long after he had began living with them he noticed many different things, ever so observant as a past journalist. The lingering hands, the kisses on the head when they thought he had fallen asleep, the invitations to cuddle them in their bed.

When he confronted them about it, after gathering the courage to, both Felix and Y/N were very frank about their feelings, despite the latter being slightly embarrassed that she had been caught out in her tender actions. After all, Y/N had quite the reputation to be cold and unloving, but Chan knew that very day be met her, that she was the complete opposite. And to him, Felix was different from his heroic persona too. Sure, he had his arrogant moments, but it was only ever said in a joking tone, and that warmth that he had seen in news broadcast footage, translated emotionally too. They were his support. His lifeline. And he'd be ever so thankful that he found them. They even helped him find his new hobby, one he was excited to make money about.

"We're back!" Felix and Y/N called out as they entered the apartment, both of them panting. From staging another fight scene, not anything else, you pervs.

"In here!" Chan yelled out happily, sat in front of his computer.

"Hard at work I see," Y/N kissed him on the forehead, resting her own head on his shoulder to snoop at what he had been working on this time.

"Wow, you've written quite the story there, love," Felix stroked Chan's hair as he squinted his eyes to see what was on the screen.

"Yeah, well, someone paid me ₩200,000 for a commission! Insane I know!" Chan breathed out a laugh, happy that his new job could bring money into their home together.

"What's it about this time?" Felix queried with genuine curiosity.

"Well, ok, so they wanted me to write an imagine where Blaze and Shadow were best friends at school but got separated after moving different countries. So it's got this friends to lovers, reunited trope going on," Chan danced in his seat happily as he explained to his boyfriend and girlfriend about what he was writing.

"You and your fanfiction, ey?" Y/N laughed fondly, rubbing Chan's arms.

"Well, if you can't beat them join them," Chan laughed back, "plus it's fun writing these made up scenarios, especially when people want to insert themselves into the story. I know I've got the real thing. I'm so lucky," he rambled on.

"Yeah, and soppy," Y/N pulled his chair away from the computer.

"Hey! I like the compliments, tell me more!" Felix sat on Chan's lap, dragging Y/N on top of him awkwardly as they shared giggles, stories and kisses about how their days had gone.

It certainly wasn't how Chan expected his life to go. But he wouldn't exchange it for anything now that he got a taste of love, and pure compassion.

Felix was the light that shone down upon him and saved him that very day. And Y/N was the shadow that was always there for him, no matter what. It made sense didn't it? After all, such darkness and lightness coexisting meant that there had to be a third in between the two, otherwise one would feel lonely without the other.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @lixie-phoria

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jjoelswatch · 2 months

Text

Having thoughts on The Acolyte.

I've seen a lot of commentary about how the show doesn't feel like Star Wars because it's not a hopeful show. Hope is central to Star Wars, and I think this commentary is fair at a surface level, especially given the other Star Wars stories already told, but (for me, at least) the show still feels like Star Wars and here's why.

It is a show that focuses on misguided viewpoints. The politicians have a misguided view of the Jedi. The Force cult have opposing views of the Jedi. The Sith of course have a skewed view of the Jedi. We are shown several flawed Jedi making questionable, misguided choices. I had no expectations going into this series that it was ever going to paint the Jedi in a kind light-- because it's a Sith story.

The hope that's featured in the show is a personal sort, not a broad, overarching hope for mankind and the future. It's about small, personal hopes for something better or, more often, something that the characters feel they deserve. It's mostly rooted in ridding oneself of what's holding them back and embracing personal freedom. That's great on the surface! But if you look closely, it fits right into the Sith code.

Mae is driven by a sense of (from her point of view) justice to avenge the death of her mother and her people. Osha hasn't come to terms with her anger and grief and her belief that Mae's actions fully resulted in the loss of her mother and people and had buried those emotions rather than facing them as the Jedi would teach her. Osha's journey is one of apparent truth and clarity. There is truth in the reality that Sol was wrong in his actions (misguided and well-intentioned as he was). It isn't necessarily wrong that Osha is angry at the lies she was told. Instead of burying or facing her negative emotions, she embraces them under the guise of facing the truth of them. There's a running theme of "truth in freedom, freedom in truth" to what's being offered to the dark side characters in the show.

Osha and The Stranger clasp hands over her dead Jedi Master's bled lightsaber and stare out into the sunset while Vernestra covers up recent events to the Chancellor and meets with Yoda in private. It's framed as freeing and hopeful for our Sith-aligned characters because it is-- for them. For the Jedi, it is damning. These are two statements that can coexist. And yet, through Osha's agreement with The Stranger and Mae's memory erasure, we are presented a crumb of hope for Mae's future with Vernestra.

This is very much a Sith story, not a Jedi story, and I think once that's taken into consideration the apparent lack of hope in the story makes perfect sense. It's a different kind of hope, underlined by a grim reality that it is a false hope, the promises of the dark side. It isn't a story the Jedi would tell you~

#The Acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #verosha aniseya #osha aniseya #mae aniseya #sw meta #it's totally cool if the acolyte wasn't your cup of tea #but this show is NOT a jedi story so it's not going to have that overall feeling of hope to it that all the other movies and shows have #it's a sith story #it's a side of a story that we've seen bits of through the other jedi-driven stories #but not one we've had told from a strictly sith viewpoint #and that's exciting!! for me at least #i love the jedi #i also find the sith and dark side-driven stories very interesting #i don't think those stories should just be restricted to fanfic #like maybe that's my old republic novels and games loving self speaking #but the sith are super important to the jedi's stories!!

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seaofgoldensand · 6 months

Text

can we meet again once more? she falls asleep unbeknownst that her dream-self is awaiting to meet with dawnbreaker, but this time dawnbreaker wishes to talk to her about something personal.

note: thanks to this quote i found on tumblr that made me immediately think of dawnbreaker and @zayne-snowman for being an awesome zayne roleplayer (gimmick blog is a new term that i actually genuinely like and will use it now), since reading their posts of people interacting with dawnbreaker, it made me adore zayne even more as a rafayel girlie aheh. anyway! to those that read this, i hope you enjoy!

warning: angst once more (this will be my stamp), slight hurt with comfort, he will do anything to ensure she is ok whether mentally or physically, hints of pieces from foreseer myth if you squint

another day of being a hunter has passed and the city is as peaceful as i can be. that was her duty and she loved to provide that help in not only protecting the city, but also protecting her fourteen year old self.

now she can return home and settle herself in bed where unbeknownst to her, she would meet a man that she forgot in the waking life, but remembers very well in her dreams. as she falls asleep, a warmth surrounds her more than her blanket, there is a smile on her face that translates to the one in her dreams as she felt warm arms wrap around her body.

the man was silent, burying his face against her neck and inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume and letting it linger in his senses, allowing himself to engrave it into his mind for when he must let her go once more. she remained where she was, unsure of how she got here, but the man standing and hugging her from behind like she was the most delicate snowflake in a world full of snowstorms was no stranger to her.

“i’m sorry, dawnbreaker… did i make you wait for too long?” she asked softly, raising her hands to rest on his arms, squeezing them gently as she turned her head to brush her lips gently against his temple.

he shook his head, holding her closer. “no, not at all. in fact, if you don’t know, i’ll remind you… i will wait for however long i need to just to see you and hold you like this again.”

she smiled, although it was a mix of sorrow and happiness, two emotions that could never coexist with one another, yet were easy to conceive. then, she turned around and cupped dawnbreaker’s face, her fingers gently drumming against his cheeks as she gazed up at him.

“even if the certainty of me returning is little to none? you would risk that much if it meant you’d see me again? am i really worth that much?”

it had been a question that was stuck in her mind like a fly in a venus fly trap, no matter how much she tried to remove the thought, the insecurity to ensure nothing came between her and dawnbreaker, that question became a plague and dawnbreaker must have sense the shift as he immediately drew her in closer.

“of course. in this world, i have nothing left. i want to be selfish. allow me to be selfish and i promise to take care of you as much as i possibly can here in this world. it’s—”

“fleeting.” she finished his sentence with a tender smile. “everything around us and us in general is fleeting, yet if it’s all i can have, i could never wish for anything more. and you can be selfish, dawnbreaker. in a sense, this is your world and i’m becoming a permanent visitor, until you no longer want me to come back.”

dawnbreaker eased back and stared at her with his piercing gaze before he grabbed her chin, gently tilting it up so their eyes met. “there will never be a day where i’m not looking forward to your return. there will never be a day where i wish for you not to return. and there will never be a day that i stop myself from feeling these emotions you give me. for once in this life of mine, i feel something and it’s all because of you.”

she listened intently and nodded her head. insecurities plagued her mind, but dawnbreaker never once allowed those insecurities and self-sabotaging tendencies to remain in her head for too long. perhaps, that is why it was so easy for her to fall for him. how she felt so drawn to his presence, that she would do everything in her power to meet in the same world in her dreams.

“then, when i fall asleep, i will do my best to make sure to meet you once more. over and over again until our worlds allow us to meet face to face outside of our dreams.”

“do you believe such a thing is possible?”

“i do. it’s all thanks to you, dawnbreaker.”

dawnbreaker was quiet as he finally pulled away from her and held out his hand. “come, then, let’s have a walk. there is something i wanted to talk to you about. nothing horrible, i assure you… just something that has been on my mind.”

as the two walked and the snow gentle fell over the city, dawnbreaker stopped in front of a cafe. he gazed through the window and in there was a scene that did not belong to his world. in there was a version of him who was a doctor and she was there sitting in front of him, eating lunch it would seem. he could not help but feel bitter that this version of himself was allowed to be with her when she is awake.

“dawnbreaker?” she spoke out softly when she noticed him seemingly staring into the empty cafe. “what’s wrong?”

he turned and looked at her before shaking his head. “it’s nothing…” he stated, and she did not pry any further.

they walked a few steps more before they stumble onto a field of jasmine flowers. it was then that she let go of dawnbreaker’s hand and ran to the field of flowers, frowning.

“oh no! i knew i was forgetting something, have they not bloomed since?”

“they are just resting, and do not worry about taking care of them, we can only do so much in this environment. ah, but come back here.”

he had gestured for her to return to his side, but instead he walked over to stand beside her, coaxing her to stand up before he held her hand. “are you curious as to what i wish to talk to you about?”

“i am, but i don’t want to pry, so i would wait until you’re ready to talk about it.”

“you’ve called me dawnbreaker since the day we met, but can you stop calling me that?”

“oh—does it bother you?”

“no, i am used to it, but i want you to call me by my real name.”

she tilted her head, curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she met his gaze.

“from now on, you can call me zayne.”

the name tugged something in her chest, her hand then turning to interlace her fingers with his as she gave it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

“all right, then. thank you… zayne.”

that odd muscle in dawnbreaker’s chest skipped a beat upon hearing her utter his name with such delicacy, it confused him for a bit before he regained his senses, stepped forward and held her in his arms. he cupped her chin once more and leaned down as he lifted her face up for their lips to meet in a sweet kiss.

“no, darling, thank you.”

“but i haven’t done—” she whispered against his lips after their deep kiss.

“you’ve done much more than you may ever know.”

her dream was spent on time with dawnbreaker, this time she managed to make him laugh and she could not help how happy it made her feel when he caught himself and tried to play it off, something about his image and how it could not be ruined.

but as the time approached for her to wake up again, she hugged dawnbreaker extra tight this time, placed a kiss onto his cheek and promised to see him once more when they both fall asleep.

but when she awakened from her slumber, she was left with an empty feeling. she sat up and touched her lips where she dreamed of someone kissing her goodbye. she furrowed her brows trying to recall the dream, but no memory came to mind.

“as always…” she mumbled to herself as she got up to open the blinds of her window. she thought of the man in her dreams, she knew it was a man, but she could not recall a face, not even features. just thoughts and memories of his touches and words, nothing more, no face to place onto the unknown figure.

“do you exist or have i made you up?”

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hwashotcheeto · 9 months

Text

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆

Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: After you fall ill, your loving boyfriend promises to take care of you

WC: 1.4k

Content: Fluffy sick fic! So fluffy! Cuddles, lil bit of crying, lots of comfort, Hwa being an overbearing partner

AN: I wrote this because a) I got COVID 😭 and b) because I love comfort/sick fics. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, because oh, I got emotional writing it.

Moodboard credit again goes to my lovely @malldreamprincess . Thank you again sweetie 💜

Of all things you expected to wake up to, being sick definitely wasn't one of them.

You stood in the kitchen, a hot drink in one hand to soothe your sore throat, and in your other hand, a COVID test. You stared at the little window, waiting to see if the other line would appear to tell you if you had caught the plague or not.

And unfortunately, that second line appeared.

As the revelation came over you, it seemed as if your body realized it had the cursed sickness the same minute you did, and all the symptoms came crashing into you at once.

A frustrated groan leaves your lips as the body aches begin, like a vice gripping onto different parts of your body. You slam the test on the counter and go to sit down at the table. You take a sip of your drink, and right after, you're choking up phlegm and spitting it into the trash.

Then the headache hit, and you were done with the day before it even began.

You put your cup down and held your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Your first day off from work in a week, and you somehow got sick. The irony of it all was the cruelest joke you could think of.

Your boyfriend came into the kitchen, his eyes still half closed from sleep. You didn't get the chance to say anything before he saw the test.

“This is what your sore throat was?” Seonghwa asked, his morning voice low and scratchy. You nodded and looked down at the table as you rubbed the tears out of your eyes.

He caught the small movement and went over to you, putting his arm around your shoulders. Instinctively, you moved away from him, not wanting to get him sick.

But when you looked at Seonghwa, he looked genuinely hurt. His eyes were heavy and his shoulders were down.

“I don't want to get you sick,” you tried to explain, but Seonghwa was already walking up to you and pulling you against his chest, his arms around your waist.

“If you were already showing symptoms yesterday, then you had it yesterday, and I've probably already got it.”

He was right, but for some reason, the idea makes you tear up again and you lean into his neck, hugging him back. The cries and whimpers come a few seconds later.

Seonghwa didn't say anything. He just held you tight, slowly rocking back and forth.

And it felt good. You felt awful, sure, but it felt good to cry. To be held by your loving boyfriend, and to cry out your frustration.

You and Seonghwa had made plans today. You were going to finally hang out for the first time in a while, doing cute couple things instead of coexisting. You were going to make breakfast together, then play video games, maybe watch some movies too. You two were even going to go out to dinner and spend some time out, just wandering the streets.

And now you were sick and couldn't do all those things. The cries come out harder and you hug Seonghwa tighter.

“I got you, jagiya,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead after. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll take care of you.”

“But you'll get sick,” you tried to protest.

“I don't care.” He put his hand on your cheek and tilted your head up, wiping your tears with his thumb. “I'll spend all day with you. And tomorrow, and the next day, for however long you're sick.

“Seonghwa, I can handle-”

“Jagi, don't push me away.” His eyes changed then, back to that sadness when you moved away from him. “Please. I want to take care of you.” His hand moved to the back of your neck, cradling your head and neck in his palm. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, just before he pulled you in for a soft kiss, solidifying his promise and sealing his fate.

At that moment, you considered yourself the luckiest person on the planet. To have someone who loved you so much, they'd throw caution to the wind just to stay with you while you were sick. Not because they had to care for you, because they wanted to.

Seonghwa helped you dry your tears before he gave you another forehead kiss. “What do you want for breakfast? Say it, I’ll make it for you.”

“I'm not very hungry,” you started, but Seonghwa cut you off.

“You're going to eat breakfast. You need it, especially now that you're sick. Now what can I make you?”

You can't help but smile. Your loving boyfriend has always been overbearing, like a mother, and you've always loved it. He took care of you better than anyone else, he was always there to get you food or water, help with chores, ask you how you were feeling.

Sometimes, it's annoying, but it comes from a place of love. He wants you to be happy and healthy, because he truly loves you more than anything else.

Even more than Star Wars and Lego. That's a lot of love.

You stayed next to Seonghwa as he made you your requested breakfast. You boiled a pot of water to make yourself tea for your throat, upon Seonghwa's insistence.

“I can just drink water.”

“The tea will help, jagi, I promise.”

Seonghwa made two plates of food, and you both went to eat on the couch. You were wrapped up in a blanket and pressed up against Seonghwa’s side. He had his arm around you, eating his food with one hand as he cuddled you. He still managed to finish before you, somehow.

After breakfast, despite your protests, Seonghwa brought your dishes back to the kitchen. You were used to your boyfriend’s cleanliness, and honestly, you appreciated it. But today, you wanted his cuddles more than you wanted his perfectionism.

When he came back, you made sure to hold him in place with your body weight. He noticed it and couldn't help but laugh.

“I'm here, jagi, it's okay.”

“You left me,” you whined, pressing your face into his shoulder.

“For a minute.”

“But you promised.”

“I know, I promised, but I'm here now. For the rest of the day, I'll bring you with, okay?”

You nodded this time, feeling the fatigue already creeping back up on you. Thankfully, Seonghwa had prepared for this, and already grabbed the Switch controllers.

But before he began, he offered you some pain killers. “Here, I got these too.”

You hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten them, but you gratefully took them with the tea.

“You'd make an amazing nurse, you know,” you joked as you set the mug back down. You had your arms around his waist, your head against his chest, hugging him tight.

Seonghwa smiled down at you as he draped his arm over you. “What do you mean? Aren't I already your nurse?”

The two of you laughed together, but it was true. He was a nurse. Your personal, adorable, gorgeous, loving nurse.

Seonghwa had started up Animal Crossing, despite him insisting that you two play something together. But you were content to watch him run around with his villagers and do chores. It's a simple game, but a relaxing one.

“What's that one's name again?” You asked, pointing at a blue bunny wearing a letterman jacket off to the side of the screen. She was looking at a snow covered bush, holding a little basket.

“Her?” Seonghwa asked, running up to her. “This is Sasha. Haven't I told you before?”

He probably had, and you just weren't remembering correctly because of your sickness.

“She reminds me of you.”

“Yeah?” Seonghwa asked.

“Yeah. Because you're a tokki.”

He laughed, and you swear, it felt like the aches disappeared for a few seconds.

The game was starting to put you to sleep. You'd wanted to stay awake a little while longer, but before you knew it, your eyes were falling shut again. Seonghwa didn't notice until he heard the soft snores coming from you.

He looked down from the TV and smiled at you. Even when you were sick, with your face bright red from your oncoming fever, you were still his adorable love.

He put the controller down for a second to pet your head, like you were a sleeping kitten.

“Sleep well, nae sarang. I’m here for you.”

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez ff #seonghwa fic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fic

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syndxlla · 1 year

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best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward and self-indulgent Zelink fanfic. Canon-compliant, takes place between BOTW and TOTK

Chapter Two: You’re Safe

Read Chapter one here

Song: Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie

Summary: Link introduces Zelda to their new home in Hateno, and Zelda begins to face the reality of what her life has developed into.

Warnings: PTSD, body-image, mentioning of scars, passing out

Word Count: 4.9k words

Author’s Note: This shit is so sad I promise its going to eventually get happy haha.

It’s late afternoon when they get to Hateno, just when the sun is starting to low hang in the sky. The gate is quiet, probably because it was their day of worship. Little kids who usually play tag on the main road were praying to the Goddess in their houses, and farmers who practically work in the field studied their devotionals in their kitchen. Link hopped off of Epona when they got into town, guiding her and Zelda through the back road, past the Bolson homes, and over the old wooden bridge to his house.

He leads his horse to the old stable, and then helps Zelda off of her by lifting her at the waist and gently placing her onto the ground. Zelda looks around at her bearings while Link removes the bridle and saddle from his steed, refilling her trough with some water from the well.

“Well… this is it.” He presents the building with his arms open, as if it were a mansion. Zelda doesn’t say much, she just observes the structure with her hands held together, arms bed at the elbow. He leads her through the front door, waving his hand around the dust and coughing once or twice. “I haven’t been home in a while.” He awkwardly smiles. It’s dark and dank there, so quaint. “It’s no palace, I know. But I could afford it, and I really needed a place to store all my extra junk.” Zelda walks up to the weapon displays, seeing the weapons of their dead friends. lined up one by one.

Link drops his equipment, placing the Master Sword on the table, which had nothing on it but a few knife cuts and a dead flower. He moves to open a window, which creaks loudly as he pushes, startling Zelda. “Sorry, sorry.” He sniffles. The window allows the light to pour in, the sun getting slightly golden. He turns to see her staring at the portrait of all the champions that Link hung not six months ago—when he was here last. He moves towards her, nervous and apologetic. She’s so hard to read.

“Look, I know it isn’t perfect. But it’s got a bed, a kitchen, and a bath, and we can clean it up.” He places a tentative hand on her bicep, standing behind her. She looks around. “If you really hate it, we can get a room at the Inn downtown, or we can go up to Purah and Symin’s-“

“It’s perfect, Link.” She stops him and turns around. They’re about the same height, so their eyes meet perfectly.

“What?” He was talking it up out of embarrassment, this place is a dump.

“It’s perfect. Anywhere is better than that throne room. And I wouldn’t want a castle, I’ll be happy here.” She smiles, and if Link didn’t know any better he would pull her in for a tight hug. He doesn’t think they’re that close yet.

“Really?” He asks. She nods.

“It needs some cleaning up, and as much as I love your tributes to the Champions, I think we should return these weapons to their people. I think we should give them a proper burial. Finally put those four to rest.” She explains, sounding like her old self again. “You and I will never move on if we coexist with these.” She admits, and Link agrees.

They stand quiet for a moment. The dust settles. “I‘ll draw a bath for you, if you would like.” He says. “I can start on some dinner, too.”

“That would be lovely.” Zelda smiles.

They have to catch a frog that was sitting in the wooden tub before Link starts bringing in water from the well, and as they chase the bugger, Zelda hears Link’s laugh for the first time in a hundred years. His real laugh, not a polite chuckle or a distant giggle as she watched over him from the Sanctum, but an actual, full-body laugh as he chased the frog. Her entire demeanor softens as she hears it, her heart racing. He rarely laughed when he served as her Knight, and it would always be because of something Mipha said. His laugh now sounded joyous, safe. She needed to hear it.

She looks at the warm bath, Link taking time to heat the water with coals underneath before she gets in. He goes to yank the screen closed, leaving behind a towel, and some soap made out of goat milk from the farm up the mountain. He explains to her that he’s gonna take care of some things outside of the house while she’s getting clean. That he won’t leave, but he’ll get out of the house so she has total privacy. He rambles about taking care of Epona and then picking some endura shrooms for dinner. With a toothy grin he teases about maybe finding a truffle.

“Just yell my name if you need anything and I’ll come running.” He says as he places some folded clean clothes on a stool for her. “Tomorrow we can go to the general store and get you some new clothes. For now you can wear these. The trousers might be a little big, but the shirt is from when I first woke up and I was a skinny little thing. The ghost of your dad actually gave it to me.” Link laughs, clearly happy to have a companion. “I’ve bulked up since then.” He jokingly flexes his bicep and Zelda giggles.

“Link-“ She tilts her head, almost scolding him.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” He leaves, and Zelda can’t stop smiling. He’s come out of his shell so much. A hundred years ago he never spoke, and mainly communicated through sign language. She wondered if he even remembered his signs. The two of them would speak frequently through them. He taught her the entire language, it took the full year they spent at each other's side, but by the time all the divine beasts were being piloted she was almost fluent. She misses that. Sometimes he would sign things to her as she stood behind her father, trying to make her laugh and get her in trouble. It worked one too many times.

And he really had bulked up, even from when she knew him first.

She shakes her head, reminding herself that she mustn't think like that. Not about her closest friend. She sighs, truly alone for the first time in a century.

She looks down at her hands, dirty and frail. She kicks her sandals off and her feet are so sensitive to every feeling. In fact, every part of her skin feels hyper-sensitive to every sensation. She takes a deep breath, she had forgotten what it was like to breathe in. She does it ten times. Zelda then touches the water with her hand, sighing at the feeling of it. She forgot what water even felt like.

The princess stretches, and then goes to take off the white goddess gown. She freezes, not being able to bring herself to do it. Her hands start to shake, and she frowns.

“Pull yourself together, Zelda.” She mumbles to herself. She then pulls the dress up over her head, dropping it to the ground and leaving herself naked. Along with the dress, she feels like she pulls off a piece of her identity. She was truly relieved and thankful the fight was over, especially because it felt like it would never end, but she’s terrified of what comes next. She wore that damned dress for one hundred and three years. And as easy as it went on, it came off. It came off along with her jewelry, the bracelets and necklace. She stands there in complete vulnerability, heart racing.

A lump forms in her throat and she pushes it down. Looking at the white rags on the ground. She carefully steps into the basin of water, gasping as she sits in it. It takes a moment for her to control her breathing. When she doesn’t, she sighs and settles into the water, her heart relaxing. She closes her eyes and then dunks her head underwater, letting all of her long hair get wet. She blows bubbles out of her nose, and runs her hands up and down her skin. She resurfaces, tilting her head back to keep the hair out of her face, and then wipes the water off of her eyes.

Baptism. She thinks. Washing away her sins, and restarting.

She cries exactly three tears. She isn’t sure if it’s because of relief or anxiety or exhaustion and excitement or all of the above.

She sits there for a long time, not moving. It feels good to be in the water, she feels comfortable and safe. She tries to bring herself to move but can’t, maybe her muscles were finally settling into exhaustion. She just sits there, not even really thinking, just existing quietly.

It was simultaneously silent and blaring loud all of the time inside of the trance-like-state she lived in while sealing away The Calamity. Her heart rate finally relaxes, and her eyes even droop for a moment. She has to repeatedly remind herself that she was safe. Maybe one day she would be able to believe that. The water started to get cool, and so she finally moved. It was nice to experience real peace for the first time maybe ever.

Zelda reaches for the bar of soap.

She scrubs away a century of dirt and grime, and it comes off with very little effort. The soap is soft, she appreciates that it came from the locals, and that Link had it at all. He isn’t half as put-together and tidy as he was when he served as her knight. His hair is longer, and it sticks out in all sorts of directions. He’s missing a chunk of cartilage from his right ear, and he’s more scarred, especially on his face. Zelda hopes that isn’t the result of carelessness, she couldn’t bear the thought of Link being put in danger even though he is the most capable person in all of Hyrule. But ever since he nearly died in her arms at Fort Hateno decades ago, she can’t stomach it. She watched in pain and disarray as he threw himself at every monster, every challenge, unfaltering and unafraid.

When she gets out of the bath, she starts to shiver, her body still not used to regulating its temperature again. Zelda quickly dries herself off and gets dressed. The clothes are even a little big on her, and more revealing in some places than she would have ever worn in her past life. She shrugs, and pulls the screen open.

Just as he had promised, he wasn’t in the house. She glanced around, taking in the surroundings even more, trying to get her bearings again. Link doesn’t have much, and what he does have looks mostly like junk. Zelda wasn’t sure how long she was going to be here, but her guess was a long time. It’s not like she has anywhere else to go anymore.

Knowing that Link won’t bother her until she goes looking for him, Zelda takes this as an opportunity to snoop. Not out of malice, but simply because she wants to know more about this new Link, and she’s too afraid to ask still. In her heart, he’s the same devoted and stoic Knight of few words, but she knows deep down that’s not who he is anymore.

In the corner of the room, there’s a work table, one with an old bow on it. She walks to it, examining the weapon. There’s a series of knots on the body of the bow, some Rito and some Gerudo. He seemed to be practicing on the bow, not using it for any combat. There’s a broken-up ruby on the desk, too. Zelda turns around, the front door is open, but she can’t see him. She continues her exploration.

The kitchen is lovely, nicer than anywhere else in the house. Clearly Link had spent some time fixing it up. There were dried herbs on the wall, and a few pieces of paper hanging up with recipes scribbled on them. His handwriting has not improved since she first knew him.

She notices all his different pairs of shoes by the door, he must store his extra clothes that he doesn’t use very often here. She’s never seen him in anything other than his Hylian boots, but here there were a pair of Shekiah sandals, Gerudo Voe slippers, and a pair of snow boots. His feet were big, she picked up one of the shoes, examining it. She noticed there was more wear and tear on the left shoes than the right, implying that he preferred his left side. She sets the shoe down and looks up the stairs to the loft. She peers out of the door again, making sure he wasn’t nearby. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but couldn’t help her curiosity. Besides, Link has never been that private anyways.

Zelda creeps up the stairs, and when she gets to the top she nearly collapses. She does not have the strength for stairs yet. All there was in the loft was a single bed, it was a double size, though, and a dresser. On top of the dresser was a vase. It was full of flowers that Link had surely picked. All of them were beautiful still, and most importantly, all of them were silent princesses.

Zelda’s favorite flower. She swallows back a tear, walking to them. A few had wilted already, she wondered when he picked them. If he hadn’t been here in nearly a half a year, they couldn't have lasted that long. Or could they? She wasn’t sure. In her youth she never dared pick any because of how rare they were. Are they still so rare? Do they have prolonged longevity? Her mind started rising with questions, and her heart started racing out of excitement, the way science and asking questions used to make her feel. She picks them out of the vase, examining them in between her hands and even smelling one. The scent was diving, and she sighed as she exhaled.

She freezes after processing what the flowers were, what they could have stood for. Did he really collect all of these for her? She shakes the ridiculous idea out of her head. What a silly, schoolgirl thought to have. She sets the flowers back.

Zelda wastes no more time snooping, and instead decides to step outside. It was golden hour now, and the warm sun felt incredible on her skin. She took it in for a moment, savoring every single human moment she experiences because she never thought she would get them again.

She savors the feeling of the grass against her bare feet, wiggling her toes with joy. She can’t help the smile that grins across her face. Her skin tickles with it, the feeling still incredibly sensitive. She giggles a few times, and then turns around the house where the stable was, in search for her friend.

A shirtless, toned and sweaty Link tosses a bale of hay into a pile, lifting it high over his head with ease. His biceps flex as he tosses it, his skin slightly sun kissed from the work, and his hair somehow even more disheveled than before. He discarded his shirt on the fence, letting it hang out next to the undershirt he wore, and some chainmail. His chest glistens in the sun, sparkling from the light peppering of sweat over his pectorals. He’s scarred to high-heaven, old cuts and gashes healed with scar-tissue that stretched along his muscles.

Zelda’s face goes bright red when she sees him, immediately turning around to go back inside, but that’s when Link sees her.

“You’re finished!” He chimes cheerily, jogging over to her. She turns around slowly and painfully, her entire body tense because of the sight. Of course she had seen him shirtless, he was practically naked as the day he was born when he woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection, but she was watching him through lense that made it feel more detached, less real. And before the two of them were sealed away from the outside world, she had never even dreamed of seeing him in such a state. They were both too uptight with their titles. Oh how the times have changed. Even if she had seen him partially-nude, it was never this close, never this…detailed. She could smell him, the scent of hard work and horse-hair displayed in the most appealing aroma of a man she could think of. She makes a special effort to look at him directly in the eye, not daring to look anywhere else. The cherry on top? Link had no idea what he was doing to her.

“I-It was lovely,” She stutters over her words like a fool, She takes a shaken breath and then chooses to sign “Thank you.” She forces a smile, was he going to remember.

Link smiles wide and immediately signs back “You’re welcome, I’m happy you know how to sign, too!” And then he dropped it as fast as he picked it up, he used to rely on it so heavily but he doesn’t need it like he used to. He continues speaking verbally: “I’m glad! I’ll go drain the bath! Hudson and Bolson made this fancy contraption that dumps the gray water into a big ole bowl under the house!” He articulates with his hands, showing just how big the bowl really was. Zelda’s heart dropped a little, she was sad he didn’t remember that he was who taught her their special language. But at least he remembered.

She looks at him, pulled into his elaborate explanation of the water invention…his skin looked so soft, so inviting. “And then it drains into a monster camp down the hill! They drink it or something and everyone’s happy! It’s really quite clever, you know.” He smiles a wide, toothy grin. Zelda had never seen him get so excited about anything before the calamity. She was struggling not to fall apart out of embarrassment as he talked, though.

“Fascinating… I would like t-to see it.” She smiled politely, hoping she doesn’t look as foolish as she feels. “D-do you have a comb?” She asks.

He smiles and nods.

Inside of the house, it started to get dark. Link lit the few oil lamps and candles inside, but it was still dim.

Upstairs, Zelda groans frustratedly as she attempts to braid her hair. She looks at her reflection in the old mirror sitting on the dresser. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to get the plaits to lay the way they’re supposed to. For whatever reason, she is incapable of being able to braid her hair in any way. She can’t seem to remember, and no matter how hard she tries, the hair just won’t knot correctly. Link heard her frustration, and out of both curiosity and a desire to protect her, he steps away from the dinner he prepares, and treads up the stairs carefully.

“Zel? Is everything okay?” He asks gently.

“I’m fine!” She sighs exasperatedly. Link stops in his tracks, not wanting to bother her, but still being concerned. She was clearly not fine. He observes the situation, and sees the problem. He walks towards her, not wanting to upset her further, but wanting to be helpful.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to the comb he let her borrow (that he “borrowed” from Riju… she still doesn’t know he has it).

She sighs, “No.”

Link is a little taken back by that.

“I don’t need your help.” She swallows, looking at herself in the reflection, a frown plastered across her face.

“Okay.” He nods and turns to go. Accepting her wish. “Dinner is ready, come down whenever you feel like it.” He says over his shoulder before continuing. She watches him, frustrated with herself and embarrassed that she can’t do something so simple anymore. When he walks down the stairs and is out of sight, she lets go and silently drops a few tears. Only a few, and she quickly wipes them away. How pathetic she thinks to herself.

She stands up, taking the comb and walking downstairs.

He plates the food he made, whistling a distantly-familiar song as he did so. Zelda sits with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders at the table, watching him, now he has a shirt on, finally. It wasn’t his blue tunic, however, it was a soft, emerald green tunic. She didn’t recognize it. It was big on him, like it was supposed to have chainmail and an undershirt, too. Either that or Link was just too small for it.

“What is that song?” She asks.

“Hm?” Link turns around with the bowls in his hand, “Oh, I’m not sure. It came to me in a dream once.” He whistles it again, down middle up, down middle up. It was the song of forests, and fairy children, but neither of them knew that. “Here, it's vegetable cream soup. I know it’s not the most glamorous mela but I was able to get the ingredients in town while you bathed, and it's filling.” He sets it down in front of her and she looks down at it. He then sets his serving across from her, and sits. The two looked at each other, neither knowing what to say.

How do you save the world and rid it from the most demonic and ancient of evils one day, and then the very next you’re sitting across from another eating a vegetable soup?

Link digs in first, purposefully eating it with one of his two spoons instead of swallowing it down like a shot. Zelda was a princess, after all.

Zelda stirs it around a bit, but brings some up to her lips, sipping it. She hums, “That is incredible, Link.” She says, and takes a bigger bite. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Your dad taught me a lot, actually.” He says, “Back when I first woke up and he wasn’t really your dad.” Link takes a few more bites, trying to satiate his hunger but not pig out in front of her. “And then I just picked skills and recipes up from stable to stable. I really enjoyed it, actually. It gave me a hobby that didn’t have to do with strategy and how to kill the most bokoblins with the fewest arrows.” He shrugs, “By the wayLin, I can kill six bokoblins with two arrows and an acorn. I’ll show you sometime.” He speaks nonchalantly.

Zelda laughs at it and he looks at her with a puzzled look.

“I’m serious!” He defends himself.

“I believe you!” She smiles, “That’s what makes it so funny! No one would stand a chance against you.”

“Awe was that a compliment?” He teases and she laughs more. He succeeds at his attempt of cheering her up. “Don’t start giving me compliments, Zel, you know how my ego handles them. That has not changed in the last hundred years.” He jokes with a lighthearted air. She smiles, the two feel warm, and comfortable inside.

Could you really truly feel happy after an event like what they went through yesterday?

They both believed so.

They believed it because of the other.

Link finishes and stands up, “If you don’t want my help, I understand. But I would be happy to braid your hair for you. It’s not a problem.” Link says in a voice so gentle fairies would come to him. “And if you don’t want me to, that’s okay too. My feelings aren’t hurt.” He turns to the kitchen, leaving the choice up to her.

She sits in contemplation for a moment.

“I’m so embarrassed that I can’t do it.” She sighs. “I used to before the calamity,” the word feels like cotton in her mouth. “But I tried and I just… can’t. My fingers don’t remember how to.” She pushes the emotion down.

“Hey that’s okay!” Link places his bowl in the basin, “I had to remember how to jump when I woke up.”

She smiles, “you’ve recovered so much. I’m glad.”

He turns, “You will, too.”

She wanted to believe that.

“You taught me how to sign”. She signs to him, “Do you not remember?”

Link frowns, “I don’t, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Zelda sighs, “It was our special thing, none of the other champions could sign. Not even-“ She catches herself and doesn’t finish the sign.

“Mipha?” Link spells out her name, there wasn’t a sign for it.

“Yes…” Zelda responds verbally, a little ashamed.

They look at each other, youthful eyes who have seen horrors connect with each other.

Zelda picks up the comb and holds it out for him. He smiles and moves behind her.

He takes the comb and runs it through her long, golden hair. “Your hair grew while you were sealed away.” He says as he holds the soft hair in his calloused hands.

“What?” She asks. “No it did not!”

“Whatever you say, but I think it did.” He hums, parting it and then setting the comb down before beginning the plaits. “What do you want?” He assumes her classic hairstyle of the braided crown, but she lifts her hand to stop him when he starts braiding by her ear.

“Just one braid, all of my hair in it, please.” She asks.

Link nods and lets go of the strands he had in his hands, moving to a different part of her head to restart. He’s always been a very talented braider, even before the calamity. He does it fast, and he is very gentle with her scalp as he does it. When he gets to the bottom, the hair tapering, he realizes he doesn’t have a hair tie to secure it with. Instead of making her hold it while he looks for one, or having to restart, he pulls the blue one out of his hair, and ties Zelda's hair with it. He drapes it over her shoulder and walks away to close the window by the kitchen, his back towards her.

Zelda notices the blue, and looks up to see his hair loose and messy.

Her heart does something because of that.

“I would like to go to bed, I think.” She says. “Would you like me to sleep down here?” She asks.

Link turns around, puzzled, “No?” He furrowed his eyebrows, “I want you to sleep upstairs.”

“I thought that’s where you slept?”

“Nope, I mean I do. But not now, not when you’re here.” He shakes his head. “I can sleep outside with Epona, I sleep better that way anyways.” He shrugs. She looks at him with a blank stare, “What! The bed is clean I assure you.” He chuckles, so charming it’s stupid.

“No that’s not it.” She sighs, “You would sleep with an animal instead of inside?”

“Yeah… Do you not want to sleep in the bed?” He cannot comprehend what she was implying.

“No! I mean yes! I mean no!” She drops her head into her hands, “I would like to sleep in the bed, yes.”

“Great! I’ll sleep outside.”

“Link!”

“What?”

“Just… sleep inside, it's safer.” She suggests.

“But-“ He pauses to think about her words, folding his arms. “I do not understand? I am happy to sleep outside.”

Zelda chuckles, exhausted with his thought process. At least that didn’t change. “Fine. But really, I do not want to take your bed from you.”

“Please do! I don’t need it.” He pushes.

“Okay, okay.” She goes to stand up, but when she does, she completely collapses to the ground, hitting the wood floor hard.

Link wastes not a single second before running to her, calling her name. He kneels on the ground next to her, rolling her onto her back, and supporting her head under his hand.

“Gods, are you alright?” He asks, but she isn’t answering. “Zelda!” He calls her name, and she doesn’t answer, so he calls louder and louder, placing both of his hands on her face to try and wake her.

Link swears, and he grabs her hand to check her pulse but he’s so shaken up that he can’t feel anything. He leans his malformed ear against her lips to see if she is breathing, but that was the ear that he lost his hearing in a year and a half ago when fighting Windblight Ganon. He places his hand on her chest to feel, not caring that he was touching her in a place that he never should, just thinking about her safety. It’s rising and falling but shallow, and he quickly must consider mouth-to-mouth, grabbing an elixir that was too far away, or yelling her name one more time.

He chooses the latter.

He yells at her again, the loudest this time, at a volume that he never used, not even in battle. With a gasp for air, She finally comes to, her eyes opening but hazy and confused.

“Oh my goddess, you’re awake.” He gasps, pulling her against his body, cradling her against his chest. It felt like she was out for an eternity. “Thank Hylia.” He holds her tight.

“Link?” She asks, her voice weak. He squeezes his eyes shut, keeping her close.

“Shit please don’t scare me like that again.” He says, his voice quivering. He pulls away from her and she looks up at him, her eyes welling with tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay I got you.” He holds her again, “You’re safe.”

You’re safe.

—

Chapter three

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scary-grace · 9 months

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Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 20) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Chapter 20

“Sorry about the clothes,” Spinner says as the two of you walk down the front steps of the hospital. “Himiko picked them out.”

“It’s fine,” you say. As long as you have clothes that aren’t bloodstained and torn to pieces, you don’t care what you look like. You’re just glad to be headed home.

Nobody exited the near-apocalyptic conjurer fight in good shape, but some of you were worse off than the others. Nemuri was almost blasted apart trying to defeat the giant, and although she survived it, collecting the shreds of her essence back together is apparently a slow process. Keigo took a pretty sizeable hit protecting the kids, while Aizawa had to deal with a beastlike Nomu chewing the hell out of his leg before Hizashi blew its head off. But you and Tomura were by far the worse off. You’ve been in the hospital for two days. Tomura will be in for another three at least.

Most ghosts are healthy when they permanently embody themselves, but apparently it’s different for ghosts who use their own conjurers to do it. Tomura is starvation-level thin, with severe contact allergies to almost every type of medical equipment in the hospital, and the injuries he got from the fight and the rescue from the world between were bad enough to land him in the ICU at least temporarily. They had to put him in an induced coma, too. He’s had meltdowns or panic attacks or some kind of fit every time he’s woken up.

“He’ll bounce back quickly,” Mr. Yagi assured you when he came to visit. “I did.”

That was how you learned that Mr. Yagi embodied himself from his conjurer, too – except she gave him permission to do it, when she realized she was going to die of cancer anyway. Mr. Yagi’s permanent embodiment involves chronic issues with his lungs and his stomach, all of which you’re familiar with after working as his assistant for years. Chronic, but manageable. Sometimes over the past two days, it’s seemed like Tomura’s allergic to the entire human world.

Spinner told you that permanent embodiment creates complications, but you didn’t realize just how severe those complications would be. There’s no legal record of Tomura’s existence. He doesn’t have ID or health records or health insurance. There’s no next of kin who’s empowered to make decisions for him while he’s under heavy sedation, dead to the world. Hizashi’s working overtime to forge some kind of documentation for him. The doctors have been hinting that they won’t release him without it. Legally, you don’t have any right to be involved in or updated on Tomura’s medical condition, but he managed to identify you as somebody important before he went under, which means you get a little more information than you would have gotten otherwise. The doctors have been referring to you as his girlfriend. Apparently he called you his human.

Tomura might not have a next of kin, you do, and the doctors called your parents when you were too doped up on painkillers to stop them. You managed to talk them down from coming to visit, mostly by lying and then promising that they can come visit you soon. The last thing you need is for them to come here right now. Things are too chaotic. It’s hard to think that anything normal will ever happen again.

Like today. Jin and Spinner are picking you up from the hospital and driving you home to a house that, for the first time since it was built, doesn’t have a ghost in it.

When you and Spinner make it down the steps, Jin’s idling the van near the curb with Atsuhiro snoozing in the back row. Jin bursts out laughing at the sight of you, ignoring Spinner hissing at him to shut up. “No wonder Himiko wouldn’t let me see what she picked! Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes.” That’s not quite true, though. The sharp pain in your chest as the hospital vanishes around a curve in the highway tells you that you’d rather have stayed until Tomura could come with you.

You’ve been there, the few times they’ve tried waking him up. He’s promptly freaked out each time, and while your presence settles him a bit, the fact that he’s now in a human body, experiencing the world as a human does, is way more than you can calm him down from. Luckily for you and Tomura, the embodied ghosts stepped in to help. Since last night, there’s been one of them stationed in his room at all times, ready to corral him, ready to explain, so nothing else in his hospital room goes up in dust. Tomura lost a lot of his ghostly powers, but he’s still got more than enough left to raise hell.

You don’t want to leave him there. You want to stay there until he wakes up for good, and not leave until you can bring him home. But your health insurance won’t pay for more than the two nights you already spent in the hospital, and you have a bad feeling about who’s going to be on the hook for Tomura’s hospital bill. You have to go home. You’ll be back to visit tomorrow after work, but tonight you have to go home.

“How did he look?” Spinner asks Jin. Spinner came to get you, while Jin brought Magne for her shift in Tomura’s room. “You saw him, right?”

“He looks like hell.”

“He looks like he’s looked the entire time,” Atsuhiro says sleepily from the back row. Then, to you: “They mentioned removing the feeding tube in two days. His body is burning calories rapidly, and if he doesn’t have enough in reserve, he’ll have a heart attack when he starts moving around.”

“Great,” you mumble. “Did he wake up at all?”

“Not perceptibly to the staff,” Atsuhiro says. Ghost stuff. Again. “I was able to tell him that you were being released today.”

You sort of wish Atsuhiro hadn’t done that. Tomura’s going to think you’re leaving him, and based on the conversation you had the day before things went to hell, he didn’t want to embody himself for anything less than a sure thing. You’re a sure thing. About as sure as it gets, given that you were ready to get sucked into the world between along with him rather than let him go. But he’s not going to know that until the two of you talk. And you can’t talk to him while he’s got a feeding tube down his throat.

When you left the neighborhood three nights ago, you left it in the back of an ambulance, so you didn’t get a good look at everything that happened. Now it’s daylight, and what you see isn’t pretty. A weird fog still hovers over everything. Almost every plant on the block is dead, courtesy of being flash-frozen a dozen times over, and the pavement and asphalt on your end of the street is pitted and ruptured and cracked, courtesy of the giant. Nobody’s house escaped getting knocked around a bit, but you know yours took the largest amount of damage – window smashed, porch roof caved in, fence down, yard chewed to bits – so when you get out of the car and make your way closer for a look, you’re expecting the worst.

What you’re not expecting to see is a new fence, in the process of being painted greyish blue. You’re not expecting to see Himiko and a girl you vaguely remember meeting at her birthday party painting it. And you’re definitely not expecting Izuku to pop out of absolutely nowhere, hands smeared with dirt. “Hey, you’re back! Are you okay?”

He waits long enough for you to confirm you’re not about to keel over, then pivots. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“We already told you what happened,” Spinner says. “Don’t bug her.”

“You did tell me! It was great,” Izuku says. He refocuses on you. “But you spent the most time with the conjurer, didn’t you? And you got away from him! How did you do it?”

It occurs to you, sort of suddenly, that you haven’t told anybody exactly what happened. Everybody’s clear on the important details – kidnapped by conjurer, tortured by conjurer with the intent of Nomufication, escaped, rescued by what Jin inexplicably decided to call the Vanguard Action Squad. Nobody’s asked you more until you right now. And you should probably tell somebody, just to get it on the record. “Um, it was –”

“Izuku! Leave her be,” Inko scolds, stepping out onto your front porch. You should have guessed that at least one of Izuku’s parents would be present, but you’re still surprised to see her. “I’m sorry to startle you. We were hoping to be gone by the time you got back so you’d have a quiet house.”

A quiet house. A house without Tomura in it. “It’s okay. Um – why are you here?”

“We’re helping patch things up,” Izuku says. “I’m filling in the footprints in the yard – Toga says there was a huge Nomu here – like, building-sized –”

“Bigger,” Himiko says. She looks over at the other girl, who looks worried. “I didn’t fight that one. I did lots of other fighting.”

“And Toga and Uraraka are fixing the fence,” Izuku continues. You forgot that Himiko picked out a different last name than Jin’s when she embodied herself. You’re not sure why. “Mom was keeping an eye on the guys who came to fix the window and the roof and Dad and Kacchan are in the backyard clearing out your dead plants! There are a lot of them. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do it.” You step through the gate, barely avoiding putting your hand in wet paint. “The fence looks really nice, Himiko. You guys didn’t have to do this.”

“The old fence matched Tomura’s new hair. We had to fix it,” Himiko explains. “Now it matches his old hair.”

“He has new hair?” Uraraka asks.

“Yeah, it’s white now. He looks like an anime villain,” Spinner says, and Himiko giggles. “I didn’t know your fence was supposed to match your hair.”

“It’s not. That’s why we’re fixing it.”

“Thank you,” you say to Himiko and her friend. “And – thanks, Izuku. I’ll tell you about all the stuff later.”

He beams at you, then goes back to filling in a massive hole in your yard. You thank Spinner and Jin for the ride home, and Atsuhiro for sitting with Tomura, then make your way into your house. The last time you were here, you could barely walk. You were oozing blood everywhere and you were in agony, but you remember seeing Tomura on the porch and stumbling into his arms and feeling for just a moment like everything would be okay. Everything is okay. But just like Aizawa said of you being turned into a Nomu, this came at a cost – and you weren’t the one to pay.

There are a few bloodstains on the front porch steps. You collect some varnish from your hall closet and come back out to paint them over.

“My dear.” Mr. Yagi’s feet appear in your field of vision and you look up at him. He looks miserable, his mouth trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You were taken from the parking lot. I knew the conjurer could be near. I knew you were in danger. And instead of ensuring your safety I allowed you to –”

“You weren’t responsible for my safety. I was,” you say. You’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped the conjurer. If he hadn’t grabbed you from the parking lot before work, he would have grabbed you when you went outside on your lunch break or when you headed home. “The bracelets you gave me helped me get away from him. I wouldn’t have escaped without them.”

Mr. Yagi looks surprised. “Is that so?”

“When he noticed them, he broke one. It released all this energy and threw him across the room. That’s how I got out. And me and the ghost who helped me escape used the other one to blow up the building we were in.”

“My master must have known he would break them,” Mr. Yagi says. He smiles slightly, sadly. “She was a master tactician. And speaking of her – I suppose it’s no longer relevant, but I brought over the notes Izuku and I took from her journals, if you’d still like to read them.”

“I’d like to.” You’ll need something to do tonight, when you’re here all alone for the first time. “Thank you.”

The two of you sit together on the steps until the varnish dries and the smell of food begins to drift out of the kitchen. You go to investigate and find that Inko’s turned your kitchen into some kind of industrial cooking facility. “This is for tonight,” she says, gesturing to a pot simmering on your stove. “I’ve made things for the next four days also. The list on the counter is a list of common food sensitivities, in case Tomura picked up anything during his embodiment. And if you have any questions about anything, please call me.”

You feel a lump growing in your throat, making it hard to swallow. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Inko says. She smiles at you. “I would have liked someone to talk to, when it was me.”

You nod a few times, manage to thank her. Then you excuse yourself to the bathroom, so she won’t see you struggling not to cry.

You’re not sure why you’re so miserable, why it’s so hard for you to hold it together as everyone heads home for the evening. The only thing that helps even slightly is when Phantom comes home, brought over by Shinsou and Hizashi, who’ve been keeping an eye on her for you. She’s so happy to see you that she leaps a full three feet off the ground and knocks you over, which hurts. You hug her close even though you can tell she’s dying to zoom ecstatically around the house and look up at Shinsou and Hizashi from the floor. “Thanks for looking out for her. I owe you.”

“That’s the closest I’m gonna get to getting a dog until I move out. It’s great,” Shinsou says. Aizawa and Eri are committed cat people, but Shinsou’s said multiple times that he likes both. “So you got out of the hospital. Are you, like – good?”

“Great,” you say. It’s a good thing you and Shinsou aren’t ghosts, because if you were, you wouldn’t have a prayer of getting away with the lie. “It’s nice to be home.”

Hizashi nods impatiently as you pick yourself up off the ground and Phantom goes tearing off to inspect the house, Shinsou in hot pursuit. He has a folder tucked under one arm, and he holds it out to you. “Here. ID and birth certificate for him. I’m working on the rest.”

The ID is right on top, complete with a photo. “How’d you get a photo of him?”

“Took it in the hospital. Fixing the background and photoshopping his eyes open was a bitch.” Hizashi looks pretty proud of himself anyway. “I made him the same age as you. He looks it at least. The birthday is an approximation of his summoning date. I couldn’t use his embodiment date. I didn’t want the doctors asking too many questions about how he had the worst birthday ever.”

“Thanks.” You inspect everything a little closer, then nearly drop the folder in shock. “Shigaraki Tomura? You gave him his conjurer’s last name?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” Hizashi says. “It flows pretty nicely, right?”

You guess it does, except for the part where you’re going to think of the conjurer every time you use Tomura’s new full name. “Thank you,” you say again, uselessly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t helped.”

Hizashi looks as uncomfortable being thanked by you as you are doing the thanking. “Don’t worry about it. His shit’s a lot easier to forge than the Nomus’.”

Shinsou and Hizashi stick around for a little longer, checking out the repairs and marveling at all the food Inko cooked, then head home. You shut and lock the door behind them, and all at once you’re home alone. Just you and Phantom, like you thought it would be when you bought this place. Phantom is wandering from room to room, greeting you when she passes by but very much looking for something. Looking for Tomura.

“He’ll be home soon,” you promise her. She knows who you’re talking about. She whines. “I miss him, too.”

You feel aimless, and you feel sick. You should probably eat something. You fill a bowl from the pot Inko left on the stove and settle in on the couch to pick at it, staring at nothing if you’re not looking into the bowl itself. It tastes good, but you’ve got no desire to eat it. You eat it anyway. If you’re going to be miserable no matter what, you might as well do it on a full stomach.

Part of you thinks it’s normal to feel wrecked after everything that’s happened. You were kidnapped and tortured. You watched your ghost die in front of you nineteen times. You almost got force-fed a ghost and almost turned into a Nomu and almost watched your house be destroyed and almost killed somebody and almost lost your ghost to the world between. Only a crazy person wouldn’t be upset. But at the same time, it’s a whole lot of almost. It could have been so much worse. It almost was. What is there for you to be upset about?

Your phone rings and you pick it up just for somebody to talk to. It’s your mom. “When I called the hospital they said you’d been discharged today. Why didn’t you call?”

“It’s been a lot. I just got home.” It’s probably not good that your default is to lie to her. “Everything’s fine.”

“Everything isn’t,” your mom says severely. “I raised you. I know you. Even over the phone, I know that tone in your voice.”

“How do you know me, Mom? We barely talk. We barely talked even when I was a kid.” You shouldn’t say this. Now’s not the right time to say this, but you’ve started, and you can’t stop yourself. “Everything’s not fine, and I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you. Not with anybody! The only person I want to talk to about it is Tomura, and he’s –”

In the hospital, in an induced coma, with a feeding tube down his throat that they won’t remove for two more days. Your own throat closes up, and your mom is silent on her end of the line. You brace yourself for her to blow up at you, to talk about how you never let her in, how the distance between the two of you is your fault. Instead: “You must be really worried about Tomura,” she says. “How is he doing?”

“He’s – they think he’ll be out in three days,” you say haltingly. “It’s – it’s worse for him than it was for me. I was healthier to start with. But they said he’ll be home in three days.”

“Are you going to visit him tomorrow?”

“I want to,” you say. “I have to go back to work, too. My boss said he’d give me as much time as I need, but I need to save it for when Tomura’s home.”

“When he’s home,” your mother repeats. “You live together?”

Oops. “Yeah. For a while now.”

“So it’s serious.”

“As serious as it gets,” you say. For a moment you’re overwhelmed by the memory of clinging to his hand as the world between dragged him in, refusing to let go even if it meant you’d be pulled in, too. “I’m – this is it for me, Mom. He’s it. I’m not leaving him.”

“I would never ask you to leave him,” your mom says, surprised. You shouldn’t have said that, should have known that the weight behind it wouldn’t make sense to her. “I’m looking forward to meeting him, once the two of you have recovered from all of this. You still haven’t told me what happened.”

You haven’t told anyone. “It’s hard to explain,” you say. Your phone begins to beep again, signaling an incoming call, and your stomach lurches when you see Magne’s caller ID. “I’m getting a call from the hospital. I have to go. Sorry –”

“Go,” your mom says immediately. “I’ll call back later. I love you.”

You manage to mumble that you love her too, then end the call and accept Magne’s. “What’s happening? Is he okay?”

You hear Magne speaking to someone else, but you can’t hear what she’s saying, and then her voice is there again, right in your ear. “Tomura’s awake,” she says. “They’re trying to sedate him again, but he’s a little upset. You can imagine.”

You can imagine. “Can I talk to him?”

“That’s why I called you, honey.” Magne puts you on speaker, and you hear her voice from a distance. “You’re right by his ear. Go ahead.”

“Tomura,” you say, and you hear a strangled sound. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Nobody there wants to hurt you. They’re just trying to help.”

You imagine him arguing that it hurts anyway. Probably also that it’s not helping, and he still feels like hell. “The sooner you get through this, the sooner you can come home,” you tell him. “That’s where I am right now. Me and Phantom are waiting for you. We’ll be here when you get back. Three days, right?”

“Right,” a doctor confirms from somewhere in the offing. “The wounds are healing well. The nutritional deficiencies are the main concern now.”

“You’ll be home soon,” you promise. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow.”

He’d be protesting if he could talk. Probably saying that he’ll be asleep tomorrow if he lets them sedate him again. “I’ll be there,” you say. “You’re fun to hang out with even when you’re asleep.”

You wonder if he’ll hear what you’re calling back to – all those months ago, when you were trying to keep him out of your bedroom at night. “I love you. I’ll be there tomorrow. Tomura –”

“He’s out,” Magne tells you. She laughs quietly. “We all knew you had him wrapped around your finger, but it’s really something to see in action.”

You close your eyes. “Thanks for sitting with him. It would be harder if you weren’t.”

Magne says something about how it’s not a problem, even though it is, and you thank her again and hang up the phone. You wish you were there with Tomura in the hospital. Even if you can’t talk to him, you can hold his hand. You could get used to the warmth of his skin and the new rhythm of his pulse and the sight of his white hair, before he comes home to you for good. You finish your soup and lift Phantom into your lap. She was with you at the start of all this, before all of this. She’s the only thing right now that feels like home. She lets you hug her and licks your face a few times, and for some stupid reason, that’s when you start to cry.

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

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spnangelbang · 1 year

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“Earth Angel” - Friday, July 28

Authors: Eyes_of_a_Tragedy and tfw_cas ( @eyesofatragedy67, @punk-is-notdead ) Artist: rezal ( @rezal-art ) Rating: Teen and Up Featured characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Charlie Bradbury, Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner Featured relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer/Rufus Turner Length: 43,000 words Tags: Futuristic AU, Heaven is at War, But Not All the Angels Are Happy About It, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Multiple Angel Cameos

Summary: When Dean gets a request for a tattoo in what looks like a strange language, he can’t help being curious. Especially as his customer, Castiel, isn’t like anyone Dean has met before… and that includes him being devastatingly handsome. They become closer when Dean discovers Castiel’s tragic past, and some surprising information too.

Since stopping his brothers’ apocalypse, Castiel has been hiding amongst the humans on Earth who justifiably fear angel kind. But meeting Dean and those he calls family leads him to the realization that maybe they can coexist… and maybe he isn't the only angel residing on Earth.

Excerpt:

Cas peers at him in concern, obviously realizing something’s up. “Is everything okay, Dean? You look distressed.”

Dean sits across from him and contemplates the wisdom of just straight out asking Cas about Enochian. So far, the guy really had seemed harmless, but if what Charlie is implying is true…

"Cas, I'm gonna ask you something really personal, and I'm hoping you'll give me a clear answer. It doesn't change my offer to let you crash here for a bit, but-"

He takes a deep breath and just goes for it. "You're not human, are you? I sent your tattoo design to a friend…" No need to let him know that friend was Charlie. Just in case. "... and they said it's Enochian."

There’s a look of sheer panic in Cas’s eyes, and as he puts the bottle down on the counter Dean wonders if he might be thinking about making a run for it. “I’m sorry, Dean, I never intentionally deceived you. I know what angels have done to humanity, and how they are perceived, so I thought it would be best to hide my true identity. I didn’t think I would ever see you again, and… it’s a poor excuse, I know.”

He'd suspected Cas was different from pretty early, but damn. Angel? They were bad news.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Dean grabs two more beers from the fridge and gestures for Cas to follow him into the living room.

"C'mon, man. Might as well get comfortable. I promised I wasn't gonna kick you out – may need to make a few adjustments – but how about we try your story from the beginning."

Cas follows Dean into the living room and sits down next to him, fiddling with the bottle anxiously before sighing softly and beginning his story.

#spnangelbang #spnangelbang promos #artist: rezal #author: eyes_of_a_tragedy #author: tfw_cas #destiel fic #destiel art

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kawthar63194 · 3 months

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— 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊___________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Hiiii there!

literally my first and last post lol (nah jk, definitely not the last)

ANYWAY!! let's talk about HOW I (re)changed so easily???? my personality while I didn't even know about loa 😭 actually, no, not the how, cause we all know it!!! okay little storytime

It was about 2 or 3 years ago. I'm too lazy to say what class I was in, but I was extremely cringe. Like, really. If I saw my old me of that year I would definitely slap her 😠 lemme describe her in some words (TW depression???) :

cringe af

attention-seeker

false depressed (kinda)

a bit pessimistic

extrovert though

and well that's about it! also, this was my worst school year. This sorta affected my persona and there you go…i AIN'T born like that, I've always had the personality I have right now, it's just that my assumptions had affected it and I had to go back to being like before ok, let's continue. At some point in the year, I discovered what is now my love interest (joking again) MY BREATHING: a manga.

The Promised Neverland. chief's kiss‼

Emma. she changed everything, at the point that's now it's frustrating to compare/separate me to her cause I am her. This mf of manga inspired me, soooo soo soo much, you can't imagine!! I changed all my ideals my life, my mindest, thanks to this masterpiece So, old me after reading the manga and sobbing because of the ending not gonna spoil for those who are reading, decided to BE her to honor her, and also because I preferred to have an optimistic personality rather than a nasty depressive character. Like, at the moment I decided it, I knew it could be me. I knew I could act like her until it became me. So I did.

the very embodiment of the "fake it till you make it" mindest ✌

I didn't even know the LOA and shifting before, I just changed my 4d that easily!! I began to act like her, copying all her facial expressions, her words, acting according to her decisions, her way of speaking until it became part of me again and I was compared to her, especially my two best friends who took me as her reincarnation HELP I even became ENFJ although I already was, I think, my dark sasuke and baka period hid all that I am now extremely optimistic, cheerful, selfless, athletic and academically intelligent again, and this is a fact in my 4d and 3d! <3 rn it has become me, totally.

In my tpn dr, I take her place by being me and keeping the same first name but with her story and her physique yk beacause the level of frustration would be so high if I coexisted with her, two look-alikes? nah, i'd win.

I just was, until I am.

NOW YOU CAN DO IT YAAAA I BELIEVE IN YOU ALL!!!!

#loa #loa success #4d reality #quantum jumping #shiftinconsciousness #reality shifting #reality shift #loa blog #loassblog #quantum physics #thepromisedneverland #tpn #desired reality #emma tpn #enfj #law of assumption #Spotify

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whispersinthedawn · 2 years

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Lie To Me (5)

Apollo shook his head sharply. “Politics is different,” he insisted. “She has nothing to do with her father.”

Percy couldn’t help it. She huffed out an infuriated laugh. “Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth?” she demanded. “Do you really believe the two are so separate that you can cleave them apart without a drop of ichor?”

“As long as it’s not hers, it’s fine,” Apollo replied pitilessly. “When he brought her into his house, when he married her, he only promised to protect her, after all.”

***

“Well, once upon a time, during my infancy–”

Percy withheld the snort bursting to come out. Hadn’t they just had an entire discussion over how infancy was a rhetorical concept for beings who’d practiced the most cut-throat version of cannibalism ever?

Apollo narrowed his eyes at her but Percy simply mimed zipping her mouth closed. No inopportune comments from this corner, no sir.

“My mother,” he continued with great dignity, “was friends with … not my archenemy. But Meg’s mother.”

Yes, it hadn’t taken Percy more than a week to realise that in any house Apollo resided, he inculcated a certain apathy for Demeter, if not outright hatred, in respect for Meg’s feelings.

“And in the course of time, they entertained the notion of getting their children together.”

Apollo shrugged, as if saying, ‘What can you do?’

Percy held up a hand, reeling from the realisation being heralded by the grey fumes rising off the Styx. “You’re talking about Persephone!” she hissed incredulously.

He shot her a dirty look. “No reason to sound so surprised. I’m a highly desirable bachelor, you know. Everyone wants me.”

“Right,” Percy replied, ignoring the pang those words shot through her. Of course, only someone like Persephone, Goddess of Spring, could possibly suit Apollo.

Discomfort etched a permanent tattoo on her skin, but Percy managed to paste on an expression of faint curiosity on her face. “Then?”

Apollo still appeared unconvinced, but he unbent enough to share, “Naturally, we were both too self-obsessed to give the other what they wanted. And too competitive to settle for anything less than the best. And then of course–”

Apollo waved a hand, encompassing the entirety of the Underworld scenery – stalactite hung cavern ceiling, rushing acid-water better known as the Styx, glass shards substituting for sand, and rocky outcroppings jagged enough to shear through any rope used to anchor a drowning soul.

“And then got kidnapped,” Percy finished. It had always terrified her – just how easily even a goddess could be abducted and simply kept despite all the efforts otherwise. How Persephone had been starved until even six grains of pomegranate were an irresistible feast. She’d been tricked into staying with her captor, and then had the blame for her imprisonment heaped solely on her own head.

“Hey,” Apollo prompted softly, jerking Percy out of her maudlin contemplations. “I know Persephone gets a bad rep, what with the whole naïve youngster tricked by evil uncle, foolish appetite, and Stockholm Syndrome thing, but she’s not like that. There’s a reason she managed to finagle a separate establishment from her helicopter-mother of a Godzilla. If she doesn’t want to stick around, you’ll be hard-pressed to not kick her out.”

“Maybe she was like that with her mother, who she knew wouldn’t hurt her,” Percy protested. “And maybe she’s managed to work out a compromise with Hades now, over years of coexistence. But in the beginning, when all she knew was that her father had sold her to an Olympian, what could she do?”

Apollo sucked in a harsh breath, something indecipherable flashing through his azure eyes. “That’s not,” he broke off, his deathly pallor making him resemble a true denizen of the Underworld.

Percy swallowed, uncertain as to apologise for putting this thought in his head, or to rail at him for never suspecting the compromises his friend might have had to make.

“Don’t say that,” Apollo whispered. “Please don’t ever say that. He didn’t … he would have never hurt her.”

Percy turned away, unwilling to continue this conversation any further. Furious incredulity, however, made it impossible to stay silent for more than a hundred and fifty beats of her heart.

“If he’s such a gentleman, if you hold such admiration in your heart for him, how come none of you harboured any compunctions about his role in the theft of the Master Bolt?” she accused.

Apollo shook his head sharply. “Politics is different,” he insisted. “She has nothing to do with her father.”

“As long as it’s not hers, it’s fine,” Apollo replied pitilessly. “When he brought her into his house, when he married her, he only promised to protect her, after all.”

Percy … Percy couldn’t figure out the maelstrom inside her breast, couldn’t figure out why they were even arguing over matters hashed out in antiquity. Couldn’t figure out why this struck her so close to home that her heart bled from the lacerations.

There was a promise in Apollo’s eyes that Percy didn’t want to figure out.

***

And somewhere, Hades and Persephone are watching their perfect relationship being used by these two to pummel every single trauma the other could have about a relationship.

#perpollo #apollo x percy #pjo #percy jackson #apollo #hades and persephone #fanfiction #fem percy #lie to me

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writeblrfantasy · 11 months

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THE NIGHT AUCTION: BOOK INTRO

“I’m sorry,” Aric admits, conceding a bit of honesty for once. “I am the one bringing the mood down. I wanted this too, and I can’t understand why I’m having a difficult time adjusting.”

Kyrell snorts. “I can. You were just bid on like a piece of meat in front of a whole crowd of fools, bought by a man you barely know when you were least expecting it, and given more money for it than you’ve probably ever seen at one time, if you would pardon my frankness.

“Now you’re alone with that man and the clothes on your back, and though they’re very nice clothes and a very nice man, your world probably feels like it’s been ripped out from under you whether you wanted this or not.

“So, yes, anyone in your place would be having a difficult time adjusting too. I say it’s more amazing that you haven’t thrown a completely justifiable fit, screamed, punched me, or cursed all of our names. Or all of those consecutively.”

genre: fantasy romance

status: complete. word count 70k

blurb:

For a gemeyes, love is a prison. What happens when it could mean freedom? Aric is a gemeyes, a powerful and heavily regulated mage in the second class of Vadare society. His whole life, he’s worked hard to survive—he doesn’t dream, and he certainly doesn’t love. When an old debt comes knocking, Aric is forced to turn to The Night Auction, a club where gemeyes go to be auctioned off for dates. There, he is bought by Kyrell Tierwood, a first class lord who’s kinder and handsomer than any Aric has met before. Kyrell’s main draw is his wealth, which Aric needs in order to protect the family secret. Aric’s plan is simple: seduce the money he needs out of Kyrell and then leave him. It’s not love, it’s business. However, Aric didn’t count on his seduction turning into something real. As Aric and Kyrell navigate coexistence, Aric is torn between two worlds: the love he’s fostering with Kyrell, and the secret he will do anything to keep.

please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this book!

surprise! 🎉🎉my secret book is finally done!

for the past month i pulled a sanderson and have been working in secret on this baby. THE NIGHT AUCTION is about finding trust, friendship, and love through class gaps. It's about realizing your mistakes and actually changing your behavior instead of just promising to be better.

it was supposed to be nanowrimo, but in typical me fashion i got impatient and started drafting october 13 and finished drafting october 31. there is only one person in the world to whom i mentioned i was writing a secret book. not one soul on earth knew the plot, the characters, nothing.

it was the most fun, the easiest, the most delightful drafting experience i've had in years. it's also one of my favorite books i've ever written. i feel so connected to these characters, this world, the heart of the book, in a way i've been lacking lately.

the top word i would pick for how it felt to write this book was healing. every moment was freeing, every word was fun. it was lifechanging.

i will be posting character intros, excerpts, and more to help you meet the world that has been living rent free in my head for a month. so, so excited to finally be sharing this with you all!!

GENERAL TAGLIST: @worldbuildng @muddshadow @nikkywrites @47crayons @directionoftime @chayscribbles @magic-is-something-we-create

also, if you made it this far, you deserve to know that the idea for this came from a seinfeld episode, if you can believe it! (the barber)

#writeblr #writing #my wip #fantasy #fantasy writeblr #my writing #original fiction #fiction #writer #the night auction #lgbt fiction #queer writers #lgbt books #nanowrimo #Spotify

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ask-carmenpondiego · 5 months

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Chapter 21: No Place Like HQ For the Holidays

Once back at VILE HQ, the jet lands and the team disembarks, M procuring a wheelchair with his shadow powers and strapped Carmen in while he started to hum some carols. The mare sulked having to stay seated and not walking on her own. She did want to get up and about with these new augments so it wouldn’t slow her down. Deep down she knew it was for her own good and health to stay off her legs so they can heal properly within the cybernetic casing. “Can I at least have crutches?!” She had asked before they departed. “What? No! You put pressure on your arms the same way as your legs? You’ll blow the sutures and start bleeding all over my equipment!” She remembers Skyggja scolding her.

Blendin had already opened the double doors for the moving to begin. It didn’t take long for the HQ to be swarmed with flying and crawling drones carrying crates and boxes. Kiros went on ahead to help direct the drones with Skyggja’s help after Carmen explained which parts of the top floor was theirs. Carmen wheeled herself out of the way and into the living room, next to the big screen tv which blipped on by itself, 079’s face showing up rather annoyed. It took one look at Carmen and sighed. “Oh great. One of you is broken. This is why we cant have nice things..” She raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Good to see you too, 079. I’ll be adding two names to our household and they will be setting up a lab upstairs on the penthouse floor, so there may be another computer system connecting to ours. PLEASE behave and cooperate with these new agents. I don’t doubt they will attempt to delete you somehow if you start shit with them.” The ai rolled its eyes. “I’ll highly doubt they can but I suppose I can see what I can do to assist. I make no promises.” Carmen smiles and gives an awkward thumbs up, still getting used to the feel of the augments. “Thats all I ask, just a solid attempt in peaceful coexisting. I’ll even give you more monitors if you wish for around the HQ~” 079 gave a deadpan look with confetti and balloons on the screen. “Hooray. Now I wont have to squeeze into those abhorrent tiny screens on your mobile devices. Some of you really need to clear the phone storage from all that porn..”

Blendin hops over with a tablet to show his mother, “Hey Mom, I had some help with M and Kiros and.. 079? Anyway, we came together and we are working on a present for you! I am trying to share the knowledge of the ley line door travel system to your system so you can do what I do! Now, this stuff is super top secret so I could get in a whole lot of trouble for this if I’m caught BUT Kiros insisted that 079 will keep it under lock and key so no one else can track it! And there may be a way to even hook it up to your time machine! M said he’ll tinker with that later.”

Daring had wandered in and stayed a fair distance away and watched the two discuss the travel system. She scoffed as she saw Carmen get excited and hug Blendin, perhaps a little too tight. She didnt realize the added strength she had due to the new blood and augments, that is until he yelped. Daring was still trying to unfluff her feathers as she watched. She was glad a life wasn’t lost, even if it was one she still didnt trust. Perhaps she could tolerate her mother but she certainly kept her opinions known.

As far as she could tell, her brother had fallen right into his mother’s trap and just handed over the ability to steal everything from under everyone’s noses. There must be some way to stop it all. Her thoughts were jarred to a stop as striped arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, picking her up and twirling her around, “Adora!!! This is a wonderful surprise!! Welcome home!! Lemme give you a big hug! Rrrrrrrr!” Waldo had snuck up on her in a way he would describe as very dad-like. Daring shrieked and flailed in his grasp, “Let me go! Help!” Carmen turned quickly, hearing the screech and instantly relaxed when she saw Wally try to be silly. “Wally!! Let her go, she’s not in the right mood right now.” He let her go with a playful pout, “Aww alright. I was just excited to see our baby girl again. You grew so tall! Look at you! Pretty soon you’ll fill out and be even more like your mom. She sure did give the attractive and smart genes to you, kids.” Daring huffed and straightened her clothes and tried smoothing out her feathers once again from puffing up “I am NOTHING like her! I may be glad she’s still here but I still think she’s up to no good!” She pointed to her smirking mother.

Wally looked over at Carmen for the first time since she came back and stopped short, worry plastered across his face. “My light! Are you ok? I heard there was an incident but it wasn’t specified how bad! What.. your hair, your arms.. legs.. your color.. what happened?!” Carmen started to explain, then when she heard the words coming from her own mouth, the realization of everything started to hit. Her eyes suddenly were pouring tears, and her new hands shook. She finally had a moment to truly process. She reached up to Wally who knelt down and embraced her so tightly, crying as well, “Please.. my light, please take this as a sign to stop. I know you are trying to help cure me but let’s.. just try to find a doctor or something. You’re risking your life to save mine, the accidents are getting more frequent and more dangerous… I want you to stop stealing. Please.” Carmen wiped her eyes, pulling away as she calmed down, making herself push the panic aside, “I can’t. I still have to try. Its what I’m good at, its what I do. Its not like they’ll accept me back into the detective programs..they’ll just throw me back into that horrible place to forget about me.” Blendin hugs his mom around the neck from behind the wheelchair, nuzzling comfortingly, “We wont let anyone take you or any of your agents away from us! And we’ll find a cure, Right Dad?” Wally smiled a little worriedly, “You said it. Now lets get you cleaned up and settled from that trip, maybe some relaxing time in front of the tv or something..” Carmen scoffed with some tears still brimming her eyes, “Relaxing in front of the tv? So I can get lazy and fat you mean?” She teased, wiping her eyes.

Daring crossed her arms and stood brooding from across the room. Ninoga and Kiros were lifting a heavy piece of furniture through the doorway and had to pass in front of Daring. She caught a glimpse of the muscles on both agents and blushed, looking away. “Excuse us, little snack. Don’t want to squish you.” Kiros chuckled with a low teasing rumble, winking at her. She turned scarlet in the face and hurried over to her family, “Guys, where’s the bathroom?!” Wally pointed just down the hall as Carmen looked at her and then at Kiros having a belly laugh while the young pegasus rushes off. “So THATS why it smells like Teen Spirit on Prom Night in the jet! Kiros! You are a scoundrel!”

Kiros shrugged as he held the furniture while Ninoga was pivoting, “I didn’t do a damn thing but I know you wouldn’t have me any other way!” He grinned, now on the move to set the furniture to its proper place. Lekir set a box down, which was picked up by a crawling drone and scuttled off, the vesk stepping out of its way with a bit of a gruff. “Its already like an infestation of these drones, you sure you wanna bring them here?” Carmen nodded, “I can tell this is the break they needed, just like they gave us a break. We have the room and they can be very helpful to us.” Lekir crouched beside her as Wally was busy looking through the tv channels. “How are you feeling? Any pain or anything?” She brushed her fingers through Carmen’s hair as Carmen put on a smile, “I feel great, I cant wait to try to get back on my feet. Wally wants me to relax… and to stop thieving.”

They look over to Wally who had been channel surfing and was currently dancing to some up beat music, occasionally singing along, before changing the channel again, “Mum!….Dad!…..Bingo!…..BLUEY! Man, Kid shows are so fun these days!… Ooooh baking competition! Thats not a cake!!… IT IS A CAKE!! Blendin! Are you seeing this?!” Lekir dropped her face to deadpan, “You? Stop thieving? Heh, thats not going to happen, is it?” She watches Wally pretty much jostle his son in excitement of a purse being sliced and revealing cake. “I will never be able to fathom what you see in him..” She stands up, her hands on her hips. Carmen smiles, “I dunno, he makes me laugh like theres not a care in the world.”

That night, after all the moving had calmed down, they all gathered around the dining room table. A couple stacks of pizza were on the kitchen island nearby, half already emptied. Carmen looked around as they all chattered, dishes and cups clinking, and all she could think about was that she had spent so much time trying to get to this point. But she found it was all worth it. She finally had connections with her family and made new family along the journey. She actually felt complete for once in a very long time.

The sounds of the gathering played over a speaker for a few moments more before a hand reached and switched it off. “This does not sound like a funeral dinner, does it?” A lower ranking gentleman in a suit lowered his head, “N-no sir. It does not.” The one in the chair facing him turned, picking up the umbrella that was placed onto the desk between them, inspecting it closely. “What does it sound like to you?” The younger rank, gulped, “A..a happy celebration, sir?” The blade sliced out from the tip and back in with a press of a button. “A happy celebration. Now. Your task was simple. I see no malfunction in your equipment so the failure rests with you. You told me, no. You ASSURED me that you would have this taken care of.” The lower rank stammers, “I made sure she was gravely hurt, at the very least, if she had a big enough injury, she would not continue.. we wouldn’t need to resort to eradicating her..” They look at the expressionless form of their higher rank. “It seems like you have forgotten what we stand for. Therefore, I will rectify your errors and put you on a path of clarity.”They press a few buttons on the console as a swarm of nanites suddenly covered the lower rank for a split moment and then returned to the opening they had come through. The lower rank just collapsing to the floor, all signs of life removed without cause nor damage or anything, as if every bit of life force was simply consumed and destroyed right from the source, without so much of a sound from the victim. Within moments, two workers came in and took the body to the incinerators. They press the intercom, “Send Mali Negatta into the field, we have a holiday gift to give the thief on this naughty list.”

A voice came over the intercom in return, “Hey all, this is Mali, I’m not available right now but I will return to accept any jobs starting in the new year! Otherwise, stop calling. Byieeee” The higher rank sighed and sat back in the chair. “What a christmas miracle. Well, all things come to those who wait..”

#mlp oc pony #carmen pondiego #ask blog #story update #ao3 fanfic #marehem #daring do #waldo #kiros #vasha vindragova #lekir #blendin #skyggja #sigryn #ninoga #asta #scp 079

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fantasyinvader · 8 months

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I know a lot of people compare Houses to the Shin Megami Tensei franchise, specifically the Persona series because of the school setting. I'd add that the game making allusions to various real world religions through it's symbolism, as well as using the tarot, would further this. Not to mention, how some games give the story as breadcrumbs and expect the player to figure everything out from those. However, I don't feel that Houses is meant to invoke the Law/Chaos/Neutral alignments with it's routes because Law and Chaos are meant to be two sides of the same coin, invoking what Michael Moorcock intended when he created in his works before Dungeons and Dragons bastardized the concept, whereas neutral routes tend to go against the idea of coexistence to the point of being criticized as genocide routes.

But as I thought about this, I couldn't help but feel something. Edelgard embodies the WORST qualities of the three alignments.

With Law, Edelgard seeks to impose her will upon the people of Fodlan and is willing to go to horrific lengths under an “ends justify the means” mindset. The game accuses her of wanting to replace Sothis with herself, even to the point where she takes over the Church to spread her own messages. She'll talk about how she will protect those who support her but destroy those who oppose her or her ideals. Siding with Edelgard an act of blind faith, as from the beginning of the game we've seen evidence of her evil deeds. It also means ignoring Byleth's character and changing the story, us pushing our choices onto Byleth, who would otherwise side against Edelgard of their own free will.

But then you look at Chaos, which promises freedom. Except it's a social Darwinist form of freedom, where the strong oppress the weak. Chaos tends to try and make people join it of their own free will, but is not above manipulating you as well such as in Nocturne where Lucifer's manipulations will strip the Demi-fiend of his free will in the True Demon path. And despite all the talk about YHVH being a tyrant, Lucifer is the strongest demon of the Tyrant class linking to the fact that for all her talk of freedom, Edelgard's path is supposed to lead to tyranny and oppression as she imposes her social Darwinist beliefs on Fodlan. The fact that Edelgard invokes demonic imagery, specifically Baphomet, only serves as the icing on top.

At the end of the day, however, the two aren't that far apart from each other. Hell, angels will support social Darwinism in Nocturne because it provides them a means to look down upon others. This owes to Moorcock, where either side achieving absolute victory would spell the end of the world.

Then you have the Neutral routes, where you reject heaven and hell to create a path for humanity. We could see this as Edelgard taking out the Church before removing the Agarthans. But this means wiping out those who've helped you, meaning that humans can only achieve freedom from gods and demons through the help... of gods and demons who've they made to support them. It, and the implications of genocide against non-humans, make it more human supremacist than anything. But in other instances, it's framed as putting things back to the way they used to be which is what Edelgard says she's doing in the Japanese version. This is in contrast to Fire Emblem's themes of coexistence.

Edelgard embodies the worst of each alignment, and you can't help but feel it's meant to be a criticism of the system in the first place. Such an alignment system doesn't really work, as it narrows everything down to some extreme. It leads to either ideological or religious zealotry where every choice sucks various degrees of ass. It's hard to say that a SMT game has any real morality to them, aside from spin-offs like Persona or Digital Devil Saga, as not matter the route you perform questionable actions (play SMT2 as a traditional good guy to see what I mean). Despite this, player characters have been referred to as “messiahs,” even TDE Demi-fiend.

And I think that's the true message of Houses. It's against zealotry, blind faith and how that's used to justify atrocities. I'm going to point out a few things before continuing.

Edelgard's nickname is “El,” which is an ancient word or title referring to a god. At the end of Flower, the player is made to call her that if they choose her S support.

Building off of this, the devs said that part of the theme of Flower was having different beliefs and because of those beliefs mowing down anyone who stands in your way.

Conversely they identify Byleth's flag, the save icon of Silver Snow, as the game's Fire Emblem stating it reflects the belief others place in Byleth.

Byleth gains the powers of the Goddess Sothis, while Edelgard is accused of wanting to replace the Goddess with herself as she reshapes Fodlan to suit her ideals.

Ergo, Flower is about the player believing in Edelgard over Byleth (as Byleth's default choice is to fight against her), her taking over the role of the game's god figure. But to do this requires the player to ignore what they they don't wish to see, much like Edelgard herself does. It ignores what she was working with the people you fought all through-out White Clouds, providing them aid in addition to hiring an assassin with orders to kill her classmates. In addition, it involves looking the other way when Edelgard's claims are contradicted by the worldbuilding, when acts as a hypocrite, when innocents are hurt or killed as part of her plan or even the implications of endings unique to her route. Most of all, it means ignoring the growing pile of evidence that Edelgard is a liar who will say whatever she needs to in order to look like the hero.

In other words it takes blind faith in Edelgard, or wilful ignorance, in order to complete Flower. But then compare this to Rhea, Dimitri and Claude. How Rhea's belief in her mother caused her to ignore Fodlan's moral decline as she believed that when she revived her mother, Sothis would fix everything. Rhea, if she lives, gets her best ending when she realizes this failing and instead returns to , duties as Archbishop and the results are said to be miraculous. Dimitri's beliefs led him to killing those who hurt others, believing his duties were to the dead even if it meant he became a monster himself. He's saved by realizing his beliefs were wrong and his real duty is towards helping the living. Meanwhile, Claude's own ideals are hypocritical on his part until he puts aside his prejudice against the Church. Kinda hard to champion accepting the beliefs of others when you decide to destroy a religion you blame for Fodlan's problems, especially since Claude realizes just how wrong he was about the Church in his initial assessment.

You could make an argument that Rhea, Dimitri and Claude all start off as some form of zealot and their best development is to grow beyond that. Byleth's story is about seeing what Edelgard does and not turning a blind eye, seeing Edelgard's actions for what they really are, and doing the right thing regardless of how it makes them feel.

The various types of symbolism then become an extension of this. They symbols all point towards the same truth, regardless of their background. If anything, they're meant to show how universal this lesson is. That if you hold your beliefs to such a level that you're willing to reject reality (or in the case of some players, the game's script and authorial intent) for them, then those beliefs are a problem. The fact that Edelgard, when pressed, blames the people if her ideals don't make their lives better is meant to show how disconnected from reality she actually is, and with her demonic Hegemon form being presented as the personification of those ideals while Dimitri ends up with the messianic title of savior king, it doesn't take a genius to figure out whose side the game is actually on.

If Edelgard was meant to be a good guy, her fans wouldn't be telling others not to listen to the game's creators. Nor would they be telling people to read a fanfic to understand the characters, or trying to dismiss everything else the game says. Flower is a villain route, and that's okay. It is what it is, even with the translation issues messing it up somewhat. It doesn't want you to ignore the truth about Edelgard, it want you to see the truth.

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transpidergwen · 2 years

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For those of you who are interested, there's a new sitcom on Hulu called Not Dead Yet with an autistic character (and played by autistic actor Rick Glassman)! The tiktok link is his scene from the pilot where he explains it and it's really great.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRtj3gKm/

It stars Gina Rodriguez (i know), Hannah Simone and Lauren Ash, and if you were a Jane the Virgin fan you're gonna feel like you're back in 2014 bc she's playing a writer again (she works at a newspaper obituaries with a fun gimmick, hence the title). Her roommate Edward is autistic and so far my favorite part of the show. I watched the two episodes that are out and they're promising!

He has a great arc with her in episode two that involves some neurotypical trolling that I thought were great. So far the writing doesn't feel derogatory and the jokes aren't punching down. Idk how much credit goes to the writing staff vs Rick but so far his autism (and the fact he has a girlfriend) is just as normalized as one of her friends being gay. He's not infantalized or made fun of, and in episode two he an Nell (Gina) have a solid arc about trying to figure out how to live together that features his autism but doesn't reduce him to it. They both have needs and she doesn't tiptoe around his autistic needs, she says that she has needs too (a table to eat/work at bc he has work items covering their breakfast bar) and those can coexist with his. If he needs the breakfast bar for work, then she gets a table. He doesn't need to make himself less autistic to make her comfortable but he doesn't get a pass on everything because he's autistic, he's an adult that she lives with and they will keep figuring it out as they go. He also apologizes for saying something insensitive earlier, that he didn't think about it but his girlfriend helped him realize that he hadn't considered her side. It felt very authentic and I loved it. I'll definitely be watching more and posting about it and would love to hear anyone's thoughts about it too!

#the rest of the show is decent #some good jokes some flat ones #a few that feel ripped from the mid 2000s sitcom era that I didn't care for #but overall promising #not dead yet #autistic #autism #actually autistic #autism tag #not dead yet abc

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navxry · 5 months

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DAY 2 : THE WORLD REAPER'S WOES

-> Figuring out a way to resolve the issue is far more than a simple ritual, and for Kirara, she may have bitten more off than she could chew. (RULER OF LOVE TAGLIST: @xianyoon ; send an ask to be tagged!) [ <- day 1 | main page | day 3 -> ]

If there was one thing Kirara wasn’t told, it was helping out an Outer God in the predicament that the duo found themselves in. And sure, while helping out a God that can kill her was probably not the best way to go about it, there were things that are far from their control.

One of them was, ironically, the feud between them and the followers that the duo accumulated. According to Navina, the conflict between them had been because of the followers that couldn’t ‘coexist’ in worshipping two Gods… And due to certain eldritch beings that messed with them, it went down from there.

She could tell that despite their aggressive behavior with… Some statements (especially when Kirara implied that what they did may have been unjustified, which she had to explain so they wouldn’t kill her), they were clearly trying to deal with the situation the best they could.

Well… As best as trying not to lose their mind, as one may say.

During the rituals, Kirara can tell that they were not as open when it comes to interacting past strict business. They did told the girl a few things about the town she entered so willingly, and the curse that resides in it.

“… Wait, so you’re telling me that I can’t leave? Not until the source has been removed?”

“Precisely,” Navina replied, crossing their void-like arms with a frown. “It’s the curse for us Outer Gods. When it comes to me, this world is on it’s last legs— summoning me simply damns it so that it dies when I ‘leave’.”

She couldn’t help but shiver at that. Its no funny business whenever Outer Entities are involved, that’s for sure, and Kirara can only fathom just how dangerous it can be when entrapping not one, but two of them in one world.

“However, since I am trapped… It still has a chance to live. However, I will entrust the ‘erasure’ process to you, since you summoned me.”

“… me?” Kirara’s brows furrowed. “But I don’t know how. Is there a ritual for that?”

They nodded.

“It’s the last one, if I’m correct. However, there are precautions you need to observe before doing it. There’s a reason why you can’t go off-course when summoning Outer Entities.”

My head is spinning…

“Here. Do you see what ritual you’re doing after the last one?” they asked, one of their many void hands moving to point at the book. The girl nodded and looked over, noticing the next ones she had to do, which was… Well, unsurprisingly, needed a corpse and other parts of the house.

“Yes… It says that I have to prepare a effigy for the next one,” she explained, shuddering. “It’s something about… Getting the strength from the dead. But I don’t understand—”

“That’s quite simple. You’ll need their power to remove the source: the heart that beats in this house.”

“A heart?!”

Kirara can’t deal with this many surprises. At this rate, she was going to have a heart attack with how much she needed to take note of!

“Yes, a heart. I suppose you’ve never seen those things in your job,” the God said with a frown. “I do apologize for your… Employer. They must’ve set you up with your eagerness.”

… Oh, right. I told them about that, did I?

“No need to apologize,” the girl said, sighing in defeat. “I’ve… Faced worse, if I’m being honest. But this one’s up there, haha!”

“… Yes, like meeting a God is worse,” they murmured, though they seem to be smiling at the thought. “Anyway, please do the rituals in order. When the heart is destroyed, I promise that you’ll remain safe when you get out of here.”

“Ah… How about the book?”

“The book must be destroyed, unfortunately. You can’t exactly let anyone else have it, lest they repeat the same incident twice.”

The messenger sighed. So much for saving it, she thought.

“Alright. I’ll get back to it. Now, what ritual was it again?”

Travelling outside of the house and to the garden was an experience, if you asked Kirara.

Now, getting the ritual set up was one thing. Navina promised to her that she will be safe when she does it in the gardens, and especially with the perpetrators unable to set foot in the sacred grounds. If she strayed too far from the garden though, that is when her safety is compromised.

How did she know? Well, the Outer God warned her themselves. After all, in exchange of getting them out of the world they were tied in, they vowed to keep her safe until she dies.

How reassuring. Now she knew that in death, this Outer God will keep her somewhere safe for her troubles.

Still, what she didn’t account for was the difficulties of performing it, especially with the threat she’s yet to meet.

Traversing through the shrubs, Kirara froze when she heard the sound of faint giggling. She knew that normally, it doesn’t pose any issues, but when she has to deal with the supernatural… All she can do was be cautious of where she’s going.

However, the issue didn’t seem to leave. If anything, it seem to grow the longer she stuck in the garden.

Each step she took was met with a soft hum, and the closer she got to her destination, it grew louder and louder. It was getting so loud that when she got close to the source, it was making her grow deaf.

Ah! I see it!

When she arrived, she knelt down and observed the sirens lurking under the river. She was informed by the book that there would be sirens in the river, and what she required was the siren’s ‘voice’. However, a quick check in the book clarified what she really needed.

“… A shell from the riverbank?” Kirara murmured. “How am I going to get one…?”

From the written notes, it looked like any shell will do so as long it was inhabited within the riverside where the sirens are. However, she wasn’t sure if they’d be willing to have her scoop one up.

Looking over at the sirens, she can vaguely make out a few figures and shiver. Some were already leering at her, which was not a fun sight.

She has no time, though. With a deep breath, she moved over to scoop one up, taking it as quickly before pulling herself back when the siren moved to swat at her.

She could hardly understand what the sirens were screaming at her, but the sound was grating to hear. Still, she had the shell, so all she can do was make a run for it.

Screw this! I have far bigger things to worry about! She thought in a hurry, scooping the book into her arms as she can hear some swim to chase after her by the waters. I need to finish the rituals, and fast!

This one was an important one, as it grants Kirara the ability to be able to deal with the removal. According to the Outer God, if this was going to be the sole factor that can help her stay alive when she does the final one, then by all hell will she let these angry merfolk stop her.

She’s done the rest before. She can tell that from her conversation with them, this one was vital before the last one. She needed to play her cards right.

However, she felt one of the sirens grab her by her foot, sending her down to the ground. With a yelp, she turned back to see who it was.

It’s that strange guy! She thought, her eyes widening when he hissed and clicked in disapproval. Gritting her teeth, she kicked him off with all her might, trying to get him to stop from dragging her to the murky waters.

After a few harsh kicks, the siren pulls back, screaming and clicking angrily. She took it as a sign to make a mad dash back, heaving for a breath as she ran to the sanctuary of the house.

Kirara couldn’t tell if the sirens would be hard-pressed to have her be around with an Outer God or not, but she didn’t want to return. Especially when she could hear clamoring from outside as the intruders began to work their way in getting in.

However, this one didn’t need her to be in the presence of the God. She needed to go downstairs, just to prepare herself for the last one.

Travelling from room to room, she avoided areas when she heard strange noises and clicks. She could tell that some were definitely getting infested, but she wasn’t going to risk it to see what it was.

After a while of sneaking through the haunted rooms and pushing through doors, she found what she was looking for.

In front of her was a gaping hole, the flooring ruined by what lurked from below. The ‘roots’ were wilted, its coverage affecting the entire area and even outside the house by the window behind it. The stench was putrid, but she had to soldier onwards.

It was tempting to retch, but Kirara can’t do it. She couldn’t give her location if she succumbed to it now.

Clambering down from the roots, she landed on what sounded like piles and piles of sawdust and granite, causing her to hack. Recovering from the unceremonious entrance she had, she looked around.

Stone walls, darkness reaching from the abyss, the putrid smell coming from one area, and boarded up entryways… Indeed, she was at the right location.

Dusting her clothes off, she jogged to the direction of the source. If she was right, then she would be able to cast the second to the last ritual with the right belongings.

At least, well… She hoped.

With each step Kirara took, she could feel her heart throb. It was due to the adrenaline, but one part of her believed that it could be due to the fear, too.

Shouldering on with the God for a while can be… An experience. Still, she didn’t want to think about doing it again. Being near one that didn’t belong to this world can drive one mad.

Especially now, with how she’s gotten to the source, and my God is it an atrocious sight.

The ‘heart’ that she was told was certainly what she expected, but it was being held up by multiple bodies that surrounded the cave. The many ‘roots’ she sees were connected to them, acting like veins as it supplied to the beating organ. It continues to pulsate as she watched the blood flow from the body, only spilling out toxic wastes that she couldn’t fathom to think of what that may be.

Raising the book, she looked through the instructions.

Ritual: Reality Shift → Abyssal Uprooting If you wish to stop being associated with the World Reaper or to stop the impending judgement day brought upon by the World Reaper, do this ritual to return reality to it’s former state. To prepare for the Abyssal Uprooting ritual, one must prepare: → The siren’s voice → The blessing of the World Reaper → Fuel of the Gods → Black lit candles To begin, one must be in the room where the source is. Make sure that you have your belongings with you and you are in the room that is the root of where the World Reaper is summoned (i.e.: where their ‘heart’ lies), or else this will not work. Grab the siren’s voice and douse it with fuel. When done, put it in front of the heart before lighting up the candles with black fire (see “Black Fire” if you don’t remember how). With the candle in hand, chant the following…

Putting down the book, she began to do what the ritual told her to do: get the shell and douse it with gasoline (thank God they had one in the kitchen, she wasn’t going out there if she could help it), putting it in front of the heart and lighting up the candles with black fire. Although the flames were bigger than the last ones she did, she didn’t care.

Lifting up the candle, she looked through what she needed to say, took a deep breath and started to speak.

“Y' vow thee, ahornah gn'bthnknyth l' fm'latgh epfm'latghh. Nogephaii reality l' ahf' h' ehye mgepah, ng set shuggog reaper na'ah'ehye.”

The familiar chime echoes as the flames grew big in size, soon traversing down and travelling around the roots. Although she feared the fire for what it could do, she felt comfort from it as it began to set the entire place ablaze.

This was it. She was preparing herself for the final ritual—

“—Kirara? Where did you go? I feel my grip on this world fading.”

…

Wait… What?

“I’m right at the source,” she told them, which earned her a small sigh. “Why? Did I got here too early?”

“No, no. Actually… I got worried that you were outside longer than I thought. I felt my grip on this world fading, so I thought you died.”

Ah. Fair assumption, but she held her tongue.

“Haha, well… I’m grateful,” the God spoke, their voice becoming more distant. “Still, I know we have one more to do to sever my ties to this world. It’s a bit unfortunate that I can’t promise you safety when you do it, though.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Kirara asked, the crackling of the flames growing louder—muffling the sounds from the outside world, save from the entity she’s speaking to. “Are you going to leave me here?”

“Its… Complicated, Kirara. The last one needs— wait, someone’s coming!”

Kirara couldn’t anticipate the next part, for when she turned to see who it was—

BANG!

…

What she could hear was the piercing silence of the gun echoing, its bullet piercing through her chest. The flames licked to the roots and moved itself to her body, moving to engulf her from bottom to top.

She couldn’t tell what was happening, as her vision was growing darker. Stumbling to the ground, blood poured out of her body.

She could only hear faint screams from the God as they tried to keep her from getting any more hurt from her perpetrator, but it was too late.

With one last breath, life seeped out of her body, leaving nothing but a girl burning with the book in hand.

"Hm? Did something happened?"

The girl gasped, her eyes widening as she froze from where she was standing.

The person that spoke to her seem to be looking in concern, his arms crossed as his red eyes squinted at her demeanor. With a tilt to the side, he faced her with a frown.

“You’ve been looking over at the bulletin aimlessly for a while,” the stranger said. “Did something happened? You seem quite… Pale, miss.”

…

Ah, right, Kirara thought, her eyes adjusting to what she was looking. I was looking at it to see where the bookstore was…

… Right?

@/navxry | do not repost my works | 2024 | entry for may ebg 2024 by @/xianyoon

#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ruler of love!#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ love sign from above!#genshinblr may ebg 2024 #genshin impact kirara #genshin kirara #gi kirara #genshin impact #genshin #gi #genshin impact writing #genshin writing #gi writing

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