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#the void chapter ten
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Once again trying composition that may or may not work
TNV by @sugarpasteltmnt has me by the throat go read it
The latest chapter was amazing, I loved the emotions in the “I FUCKING WON” so much I had to draw it. Now were the emotions that i felt actually there? Thats an entirely different question
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gloomwitchwrites · 21 days
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader BDSM AU
When someone in your local kink community points you toward a service to pair doms and subs, you don’t think you’ll have much luck. But Simon comes along, and the two of you hit it off. You believe it’ll be a simple exchange. Pleasure for pleasure. As things progress, emotions become tangled, and the boundaries the two of you set in the beginning become blurred.
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Overall Content & Warnings: BDSM AU, veteran!Simon, car mechanic!Simon, tattooed!Simon, HEA, dom/sub dynamics, power play, impact play, bondage, scenes & safewords, aftercare
Chapters: (ongoing) One (coming soon) // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen // Twenty
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ao3 // main masterlist
banners created using Canva
taglist:
@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus
@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @randomgurl2326 @webmvie
@aykxz98 @xxkay15xx @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @lulurubberduckie
@leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim @voids-universe
@iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307 @itsberrydreemurstuff
@spicyspicyliving @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic
@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld
@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm @arrozyfrijoles23
@lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @spookyscaryspoon @enarien @gingergirl06
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nikkento-writes · 2 months
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About Love - The Masterlist
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And we'll dance along the Milky Way, I hope that you feel the same. About me, about us, about love.
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Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader
cw: canon universe, canon divergent, angst, fluff, fake dating trope, budding romance, slow burn, explicit language, eventual smut
Summary: After an abrupt split with your boyfriend, you’re left with a broken heart and a paid vacation for two that you now have to spend alone. There, you meet Nanami Kento, who temporarily fills the void left by your previous partner. 
Nanami doesn’t do relationships, not while he’s a Jujutsu Sorcerer. When he meets a beautiful stranger on vacation, he sees it as a temporary escape, a fling that will only become a fond memory and nothing more. 
Little do either of you know that your chance encounter won't be the last. 
Author's Notes: The idea for this series came to me probably over a year ago by now and I've been thinking about it constantly since. I have little snippets written, a playlist, I'm always acting out scenes in my head, etc. I finally found the time to start writing this and I'm so excited to share! Chapter 1 will be coming soon. This series is planned for ten chapters, but that's subject to change. I have no regular posting schedule, so any new chapters will be posted sporadically (basically whenever I finish writing them). Thanks in advanced for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, but always appreciated. Divider credit to the lovely @/cafekitsune. Title inspired by the song (Only) About Love by grentperez.
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Chapter 1 - About Love
Chapter 2 - Someone New
Chapter 3 (tbd)
Chapter 4 (tbd)
Chapter 5 (tbd)
Chapter 6 (tbd)
Chapter 7 (tbd)
Chapter 8 (tbd)
Chapter 9 (tbd)
Chapter 10 (tbd)
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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fresa's masterlist 🍓🍓🍓
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before the void;
one
two
three
four (coming soon)
filling the void;
one (read this first and then any of the before the voids or the rest of the filling the void chapters)
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight (coming soon)
blurbs;
the roadtrip
dog whisperer
coloring book
show and tell
new best friend
headcannons/asks;
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine
ten
eleven
twelve
thirteen
fourteen
fresa's dress style
baby fresa & alexia
baby fresa aesthetic
fresa's bedroom
fresa's aesthetic (2)
fresa’s camera roll (2)
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bakugoushotwife · 1 year
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kinktober day thirteen: somnophilia kink
>>> y'all i worked breeding into the plot again officer take me away!! i just love soft and domestic sho, and it also totally feels like something he'd love!!
>>> starring: shouto todoroki x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: fingering, oral (fem receiving) somno, breeding, reader hates working lmfao, creampie obviously, mating press. >>> wc: 2.6k >>> event masterlist
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 shouto loves relaxing. he was sure this was something everyone enjoyed, until he met you. you seemed to stay occupied at all times, delving into hobby after hobby to keep yourself busy. being professional heroes was draining enough, he thought, so why were you indulging in running clubs and extra gym sessions? why did you spend more time learning new recipes and anxiously cleaning the house these days than lounging in bed with him watching tv like you used to? of course, his first assumption is that he has done something to push you away or upset you, as he’s prone to doing. he’s naturally aloof and a bit distant, all things he tries to push past to connect to you, the only person who makes him feel warmth were his coldness usually lies. you know how he is, how he can come off a bit frigid and almost mean without thinking about it, or how he struggles to read your body language and cues—always missing the hints you throw him. you’re used to it by now, far more accommodating than a grown man like him deserves, so he figures this time he needs to get to the bottom of this and make it up to you and prove he can be in tune with your emotions too. 
you had grown restless, but it wasn’t all your husband’s fault. you felt so out of place these days, feeling awkward in your own role in life. you enjoy being a hero some days, other days you can hardly motivate yourself to get out of bed. work had become monotonous and meaningless, the streets of japan were safer than they had been in years past, so most of your days were spent patrolling and training if they weren’t consumed in paper work. you felt stagnant, and things were only complicated further by your conflicting emotions. all your friends from school were retired to spend time with their families or in the process of retiring to go home and take care of their parents or kids—and then there was you. a family would be…perfect, but it was a touchy subject with shouto and you didn’t want to press the matter just because you needed a change in life. so yes, you started tinkering around with hobbies to try and get your mind off of things, knowing you had accepted the possibility of not having children when you agreed to be his misses todoroki. he hadn’t taken the possibility completely off  the table, but you knew he wanted to broach the subject whenever he was ready. so you started using the home gym a little more, picking up books your girlfriends recommended, even working on your cooking skills all in an effort to feel something other than bored.
you didn’t associate your issues with shouto, still acting as normal as possible in other regards other than your drifting away. you really didn’t think he’d notice given the lack of emotional fluency he had, hoping if you could replace the void growing within you that everything would go back to normal and you could be as happy as you were five or ten years ago. but he had noticed, of course. he missed his wife alongside him, but it wasn’t his fault that he had trauma associated with family and was unsure of himself as a father. it certainly wasn’t his fault that when you got married right out of high school you hadn’t cared—knowing that you love him either way. this is still true, of course, but back then you hadn’t imagined  you’d feel this way, this tired of the life you worked so hard for. so ready for the next chapter, especially as ochako welcomes baby midoriya number two and you’re left in charge of the elder brother at the hospital. 
the little boy was only about four or so, absolutely adorable and the image of his father. he was a giggly kid, clinging to his “auntie” with excitement to meet his baby brother or sister. ochako called as soon as she was sure she was in labor, and you dropped everything to go support your closest friend, not that you needed an excuse to leave work early anyway. shouto was still working, of course, as a top five hero he was often kept busy. but that left you to wrangle the toddler on your own. it was way easier than you expected, even with the energetic little boy bouncing all over the waiting room waiting for his dad to come get him. he still conversed with you and ate his lunch like a good boy—though that’s because his parents were so good at raising him, but what would you expect from them? 
all the day proved to you was that you weren’t just making up solutions to your problems, having a family really is what you want. but still, you love your husband more than this want, so you’ll double down on your hobbies until you find something that sticks. 
he reads your texts over and over, waiting on you to get back from the hospital. he had set up a date, truly romantic when he tries to be, and when bakugou answers his calls. following his advice, he had your favorite dinner made and the dining room table was intimately set. ochako had her second baby, and that threw a minor wrench in his plans even lthough he was overjoyed for them, and for you for being their dependable friend in that moment. he sits at the table, all the food keeping warm in the oven as the wax of the candles starts to wane. he had flowers, wine, all the things he knew to try and connect with you and get to the center of your sleepless nights. 
when you walk in, he stands, smiling sheepishly. you smile back, though it doesn’t reach the entirety of your eyes. then you notice he’s guarding the table, and you creep closer. “hey, honey.” 
“welcome home, sweetheart.” he nods, stepping aside to show you the lovely dinner scene just for you. your heart melts a little at his effort, knowing it was always a great show of his love to do something like this, much preferring cuddle sessions and shared showers over grand displays of affection. 
“aw, shou.” you pout, giving him a big hug, “this is so pretty, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you giggle like everything is normal. he hums in thought, slender arms holding your waist as he stews over what to say. 
“you’ve been distant as of late.” he says without a trace of malice or disappointment. his words catch you by surprise–he did notice. he lets you go, pulling out your chair and tilting his head for you to sit. “why?” 
you clear your throat and sit, any charade you wanted to drum up crumbling in your brain. you can’t lie to him, but how could you approach this without feeling like you’re betraying his trust and wishes. you sigh. “i… i’ve just been trying to find new hobbies.” 
“you’re hardly sleeping, and i feel like i never see you anymore.” he frowns, making his way to the oven to retrieve the dinner the chef made. “what is it really, sweetheart? do you feel as if you cannot talk to me? is it something i’ve done?”  
you chew the inside of your lip as he assembles food on your plate. “i don’t enjoy hero life anymore. i’m ready for the next chapter, to feel important for other reasons.” you reply, not wanting to make him at fault for your whirlwind feelings as of late. 
he takes in what you say, smart enough to connect some dots. the picture you sent him of you holding baby midoriya in your arms and big brother proudly sitting on your lap was the happiest you’ve looked in some time. “the next chapter…as in, motherhood?” 
you look up at him, studying his mismatched eyes for a hint of how he feels. you sigh, “i know, i know. i guess that’s why i’ve been a little withdrawn…i feel bad about it, i know what you want.” you chuckle sadly, sipping at the wine provided. “really, i’m trying to get over it, i guess. maybe we could get a dog?” 
now he was disappointed. not in your desires, but that you put his possible feelings above your actual ones without ever speaking to him about it. just like you, he had changed as well. he wasn’t the same unsure eighteen year old he was when you married him, and though he still held trauma from his childhood, he had long accepted the concept of being a father since you were by his side. he could do anything if he was with you. he cuts into the meal and gives you a sympathetic glance. 
“you should have told me. a family…i think i’m ready for that, if you’re saying you’re ready to stay home in that way.” he hums, knowing you wouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way after becoming a mother. you gape at him, replaying his words over in your head. 
“wh–i don’t want you to do it just for me.” you double down, blindsided by his revelation. had you really put yourself through all of this for nothing? 
“i would do anything for you.” he replies instantly, and he meant that with no restrictions. “but i had considered it again around the time izuku welcomed his first.” 
“meaning you were ready four years ago?!” you almost cry out just from the shock alone, and he chuckles softly. 
“not ready to have one then, but i knew i would want some eventually. now is a good time. we’re stable. you made me nervous.” he sips at his wine, eating his food nonchalantly. 
“i made you nervous? i–” you sputter, still grappling with the fact that shouto was more than willing to try for a baby. 
“i thought i messed up, you were drifting from me. i wish i had known all you wanted was a child.” he hums thoughtfully, a full plan coming together in his head to comfort both of you. “and you haven’t been getting enough sleep for weeks, so i’ll make sure you get both tonight.” 
you took that to mean that he’ll fuck you to sleep, another thing he’s prone to do at times. so you shower and meet him in bed, trying to repress your giddiness. you didn’t notice the devious smirk your husband gave you as you sink into his arms. he pulls the blankets over you both, leaning in to give you the routine kisses before bed, and then he turns over like he’s going to sleep. 
you look at the ceiling in the dark with confusion. did he forget or change his mind? 
“you have to go to sleep before i’ll give you that child, sweetheart.” he speaks into the night, making your heart pound with a mix of frustration and intrigue and warmth at how he cares for you, as worked up as you were for him now, you groan and turn over. your brain is quiet as it’s your heart that races for once, and eventually you’re able to drift to sleep. 
he waits a few hours to make sure you’re good and asleep, his whole plan would be ruined if he woke you up. shouto loves you more than anything, and he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was worried. you had to be well rested, especially if you hoped to give him a baby after all. so only when he hears your quiet snores and deep breathing does he scoot closer, gently positioning you on your back. you dressed in a little nightgown in anticipation of him anyhow, so it was easy for him to locate your waiting bundle of nerves. he rubs you carefully, drawing small circles over your hood as you squirm the slightest bit beside him. he slides his fingers down to the familiar hole beneath, nodding at the feeling of slick appearing, your sweet body was responding to him. he crawls between your legs and carefully pushes your nightgown up over your chest, completely bewitched at the sight of your nipples perking up and goosebumps covering your perfect body. 
he thinks it’s almost ridiculous to think he wouldn’t want children with you. you’ve been in his life since his ua days and no one knew him like you did. you were someone so clearly meant to be a mother, it would be a crime not to give you the family you deserve. he easily parts your thighs, massaging and kneading the thickness he finds there as he lowers his face to your slick cunt. he’s always so gentle, but no time more than now as he hopes to remedy all your problems in one fell swoop like a good husband should. he laps at your center, angular nose bumping against the sensitive clit nestled above until he can hear your breathing change. he didn’t think he’d like it this much, but knowing that your body responds to him even subconsciously has his dick growing in his pants. you taste just as good as usual, growing wetter against his face with every passing second. he slides his fingers in, needing to know when you came. you spasm around the digits as his mouth focuses your swollen clit, and he knows you won’t take much longer. he may need his time understanding emotions and the like, but he knew your body like he knew his own. a few more flicks of his tongue over your nub and pumps of his fingers tickling your insides has you unraveling, and even in your sleep you look majestic cumming on his face. 
he shoves himself out of his boxers, admiring the way you still jerk when he presses his his fingers to your sensitivity. he draws your thighs around his slender hips, angling his pretty cock to your folds. he nuzzles the length along your folds to coat himself despite the pre oozing from his pink tip, taking a second to enjoy that sight in and of itself. then he sheaths himself, careful not to hiss too loud. you feel amazing, clenching him so tight even in the r.e.m stages of sleep, it’s almost too much for him to process. this was the first attempt at a baby, a family he never imagined himself having until he married and matured with you. it’s intoxicating, really, the way he rocks his way into your waiting pussy, silky walls guiding him in and out without any resistance. he has to bite down on his lip not to grunt and moan at how you feel, promising himself that he’d stay quiet and fill you to the brim. he pushes your legs to your chest, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. you only pant softly as he draws in and out of you, figuring this deep angle would be the best for his seed. 
all you did was follow his orders, getting the rest he demanded in exchange for his cum, even though he really won in the end. getting you to sleep, getting to see your body recognize and beg for him, getting to shove his cock deep and impress himself on your womb was more than a fair trade. a soft grunt slips past his lips as his hips stutter. his balls feel unimaginably heavy and then they don’t, his heavy load being fucked even deeper by the determined man you married. even when his warmth pools around his own dick as it goes soft inside you, he doesn’t quit, rolling his hips until he’s too sensitive to continue. 
he’s the one that doesn’t get any sleep that night, watching you sleep with his seed tucked in you only inspired him to take breaks and keep pumping you full, resigning himself to rest hours later  when he can’t possibly cum anymore.
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sculptorofcrimson · 6 months
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Yandere! Valdor
Valdor, the most loyal, the greatest of the Custodes, a Primarch in all but name. Who else can obsess more than him, whose every function besides loyalty was beaten out? A/N: Playing “fucked up obsessive twinks” on easy mode here, aren’t I? I’m sorry, SCP-XXXX who requested this, but you told me Valdor was a twink, and evil twinks are the best kind of men, so therefore this is your fault! Full throttle ahead, let us be damned together! ψ(`∇´)ψ
Relationships: Valdor/Gn!Reader, mentioned Valdor/Emperor Mentions: @kit-williams would you like some food?
Valdor does not love. 
The Custodes simply can not love. Their love perished beneath treachery and fire, ten thousand years ago, and they simply cannot piece the remnants that was a heart back together again. 
The Emperor took away their ability to love any but Himself, and what else could be left but a hollow void, an immortality without substances, a heart that beats while it lacks its other half? 
There was simply nothing left of him to spare when the Emperor had brought down his claws. His love, his joy, his dreams, all gone, wiped away like sand upon the sea. Leaving behind nothing more than a hollow without sustenance, a phantom vestige of a dream crushed long ago, its corpse entombed within perfected flesh and bone and blood. 
He loves no one, not even himself. When the Emperor died ten thousand years ago, he lost his way. He lost his tether to life itself. And for ten thousand years he wandered for the corpse of his master. There was a poem once, a poem so long ago about the loyal dog that stood guard before his master’s bones, who licked the once-petting hand once, and laid down to die. 
Valdor’s loyalty is no weaker than that dog’s.
He loves no one, not even himself. But he loves the Emperor. He loves Him, so brokenly, so obsessively, so utterly insane in his adoration, the First Custodian would have let Him tear him apart if He wished. 
He loved the Emperor. 
And that is why he loves you. He thinks you to be his Emperor. If not Him, then at least a shard.
He doesn’t care who you were, he doesn’t care whether you were once a captain, a Chapter Master, a Thunder Warrior even. He thinks you to be his master, back from the dead, one of His shards caught in life and flesh. 
He thinks you’re Him. Or, if not Him, at least a fragment of His former glory.
Valdor calls you his Emperor, his shard, his beloved, he ignores any name you had once in favor of calling you his master. A name is only a word, after all, and you are nothing but his Emperor reborn, in his mind. A guardsman, an Astarte, a Thunder Warrior, you are all mortal beneath his eyes. He only smiles that cold, humorless smile of his when you attempt to correct him, when he brushes off your words with the same cold, humorless disinterest. 
Valdor thinks you to be his Emperor. And he doesn't care that you were once someone else, you were not always his beloved, you were not the master he imagined, that you are not the master he built from memories and bones. 
You were nothing before his master, he reasons, you will be nothing after his master, and you were his Emperor once upon a time. It is doubtful if he can even know love, if he had not projected his own delusions of his Emperor upon another. Valdor failed Him once and only now the fates have judged him fit enough to protect a shard of Him, one that is so frail compared to himself, so unspeakably mortal, his atonement for the master he failed so long ago. 
He failed the Emperor once, and watched Him die. He will not do so again.
Protection. You will never walk free again, never without his cold presence by your side, that effortless, confident stride as he accompanies his master. You will never know the taste of sunlight, the easy voice of another conversationalist before their words taper off into uncertainty, and then fear, beneath the jealous glare of your bodyguard. How their sentences trail off, how Valdor looms like some ancient, murderous harpy, his shadow constantly overcasting yours.
He knows nothing of love, of human emotion. But he knows protection. And he knows obsession. 
Valdor is not a passionate man. But he is neither a cruel one either. Of course, Valdor will never raise a spear nor blade against his adoration, to strike his master would certainly mean death, but he will slaughter your loved ones without even horror. He will whisper litanies of loyalty on his knees while his Custodes sink in the knives. He will speak ironclad promises and gilded oaths when they label your soldiers traitors and slaughter them upon the snowfields, when they hail for unity, and hear the blade fall. 
He seems to like walks in wintery fields. It reminds him of what he lost long ago, when the Emperor took him atop Ararat, and he enacted His first vengeance upon the Thunder Warriors. He sometimes brings you there, to altitudes higher than even what a Space Marine can withstand, and gathers you beneath his cloak, whispering memories that were never truly yours, asking for your orders, asking for your forgiveness, asking if you can remember what it felt like ten thousand years ago.
(Sometimes, you can nearly believe him when he says you’re a shard. It’s flattering, almost, to be under the eye of the captain-general.)
He can kill. There is nothing left of him if he could not. Nothing but the Emperor’s spear, a sharpened tool meant to kill and to serve, and to be cast away when its function is complete. You have nothing to fear from him, of course, he would rather end himself than raise a blade against his master. But he loves no other. He does not know how to love. And that makes him dangerous. You know it when you gaze into his eyes, you are sure you could imagine him covered in the blood of your loved ones, guardian spear flashing as he hacks through them without even the shadow of hesitation. He will take no fear, no regret, no relief, barely even satisfaction in the grim act, and yet that is somehow more profane than joy in slaughter. Not even a single hint of joy, wild and unfettered in the sheer cruelty, not even a single hint of an ambition for why he would lay such altars of blood before his master’s feet, only simply because He wanted it to be so, and simply because he loved Him. 
In his eyes, you are his Emperor. But he does not always obey you. He does not kneel as he would’ve knelt before his master. Because he knows, Valdor knows that to protect Him, to serve Him properly, sometimes he must smother Him for His own good. It’s the twisted rationale of a dog who has lost his master, whose death had rocked him so thoroughly he was willing to kill to save Him again. 
Valdor kneels, of course. He’ll kneel before you and speak his words of loyalty, he’ll give you his names one by one if you only ask. Valdor has never considered himself eloquent with words, but he’ll listen to you, he’ll even let you command him as the Emperor would have done. Rank be damned, he cares not if his Emperor had been reborn as a guardsman or an Astartes or even a Thunder Warrior. 
But he does not hide his obsession. To obsess is the only way he knows to love, after all. He’ll smother his beloved with his protection, with his adoration. He’ll hack his way to be their only protector, their only bulwark before the madness, the only man they can trust to defend them. Gaze upon his Emperor once, he’ll tear them apart. Love the Emperor more than him, and he’ll bury their bones beneath the snowfields. 
And be loved by the Emperor more than him….and he’ll betray them as he had betrayed the Thunder Warriors. He’ll sink in golden knives and golden spears in turned backs without even the hint of remorse, Valdor will remind his beloved that it is he who is the servant, it is he who serves to be praised for his duty. Valdor can take you from your family as the Emperor took him from his, he’ll so effortlessly ensure the utter protection of his new Emperor, all for himself. 
No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 
It is he who should be the favored servant.
No one can love you more than I, my Emperor.
He’ll croon those litanies of loyalty to you. He’ll whisper those promises of protection, of ambition, he’ll promise you an eternity while standing atop the frozen ashes of your loved ones. He’ll promise you a throne if you don’t cry, if you’ll love him as his master did. He’ll bring you a crown of gold, he’ll strangle the living storm for you, if only you promise to let him protect you, if you promise if you’ll be his Emperor. 
You died once. I will not let you do so again, my Emperor.
And his obsession would never be checked, and much less ended by the true power behind the Imperium.
You are his Emperor. In that mind He broke so thoroughly long ago, you are the Emperor, reborn. Heavy is the head that bears the laurel, bloodied is the hand that holds this mad dog’s leash.
It is Valdor who should be the favored servant. 
No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 
He will protect you. 
He will protect you, obsess over you, guard you with the hollow that is a heart. He’ll bring you a throne, a crown, an army, an eternity, if only you promise, if only you’ll be his Emperor. 
The Emperor died ten thousand years ago. And in turn, he casted you in His corpse.
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evilgwrl · 1 day
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TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)
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Immune: Ten
WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)
CW: ANIMAL DEATH, gore, angst, kinda fluff at the end??? but very depressing chapter
Taglist: @echo9821 @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan
Masterlist
GUYS I APOLOGISE THIS IS NOT AS GOOD AS I WANTED IT TO BE BUT IM HOPING TO FILL THE VOID WITH A SMUTTY NEXT CHAPTER </3
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His vision was a stain of burnt umber, ropes of sepia blurring into blown pupils, eyes flushed with demand as he stared down at you. His cheeks were ample with a delicate rose hue, blonde lashes dipping into his skin every time he flickered down to your spread frame, your own lips flushed with the blush of the staggering movements between you two.
Silky webs of spit connected the two of you even when apart as exploring hands fed into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, groping at anything he could get a hand on. Your mind was fluttering, brain wracking with static as he felt over you, paying attention to every inch of delicate skin.
There was a harsh crack from the sky, a zip of thunder bellowing rage against quickly darkening sky as Daisy whinnied, trotting anxiously around her paddock, tail swishing as she bucked back and forth on her hooves. Cecil’s neigh sounded tortured as a strike of lighting broiled before zapping down into a patch of grass beside him, hind legs rearing as his body leapt over the lowest part of the fence.
You pulled away from Simon, a confused expression on your face as you pushed him aside, feet planted on the ground. Panic struck you as you noticed the lack of the stallion, a pained whine in the distance as you swore under your breath, burning legs scuffing against the dirt as you yanked open the gate, feet trampling onto Daisy in a rush as she bucked slightly.
Heavy feet kicked her hind as Ghost called out from behind you, the horse already trailing into the depths of the forest after the escapee. Bruises accompanied your skin as your legs slapped on the un-saddled horse, a wince leaving your lips at every stride Daisy galloped.
Trees succumbed to a blur as you whistled, mouth in a permanent ‘o’ as you called out for Cecil, a distressed huff leaving the mare as she darted between florae. The familiar crackle of tar sounded against her hooves as you reached the main road, your eyes clouded with desperation as you slowed down, frantically searching.
A scurry in the bushes alerted you as you listened to the sound of hooves scraping against the ground in the distance, a frantic neigh seeping into the wind as you hopped off Daisy, whistling for her to follow the road home as you sent her off, apprehensive feet trailing to the sound.
Fingers wrapped anxiously around a large rock as you ducked in between branches. The crackle of whines rode through the air, the disturbed tone of the horse’s pitch sending a surge of chills down your spine, paralysing you as you took in the sight.
Hot metallic rushed into your nostrils, pools of blood dribbling through an open wound, elongated talons of bone sticking out of the stallion’s leg as he let out a guttural whinny, eyes wide as his head slapped across the ground anxiously, teeth jutting with every agitated breath.
Your knees were weak, limbs slipping into a coma as you collided with the ground, your own flesh meeting the burn of twigs as you dragged yourself across the floor, a harsh sob sounding from you at the mangled, broken leg before you.
The horse was restless, snout slipping between inches of dirt as he attempted to rise, his weight fleeting to gravity as the sight of crumbled ivory dug into untouched skin.
“Fuck- I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” you wept, hands resting against his muzzle as you attempted to comfort him, pure agony displayed through the shiver of his muscles, twitching under broken flesh, fur saturated in the stench of crimson.
Your eyes were wild, stray tears pooling at your cheeks as you stroked the animal before you, pure misery evident in brown eyes as he huffed. “I’ll be back, I’ll be back, ok? Mumma’s gonna help you.”
Your voice was frantic, the crack of heartache slipping into every syllable as your chest wracked. Your legs felt useless, skidding against the road, trickles of blood pooling down your broken flesh, batters of broken skin tingling with irritation as you paid no mine.
The vision of the house before you was stagnant, the blear sight connecting like puzzle pieces as you blinked, sliced corium staining the handle rails as you tripped inside, mangled body colliding with the floor as you struggled to stand. Soap stood up in confusion, taking in the flummoxed sight of you.
“Bon, what’s wrong?”
“I need a gun and the car keys.”
“What fo-“
“I need them now,” you screeched, throat pained with desiccation as you rubbed desperately at your cheeks, skids of blood flushing your skin as you let out a pained sob. The Scotsman was quick, hurrying you to the car as you slammed the door shut, the chug of the engine crying into a ruptured breeze, the sound of lighting barely monitoring through you as you drove, hot tears cascading into the mixture of ichor painted upon you.
Soap was in a flurry, calling out to Gaz, who had found Daisy whining out front, quickly securing her away. Ghost had attempted to trail after you when you bolted off but lost sight, instead fixing the broken fence that had caught on Cecil’s hoof.
The commotion from inside hicked in Price’s chest as he fled down the stairs, only missing you as he watched you leave.
“What the bloody fuck is going on?” the Captain huffed, eyes brushing against bushy brows.
“She came in, covered in blood, screaming for a gun and the car keys-“
“And you didn’t think to go with her?” Ghost spat, storming into the house.
“She wasn’t waiting for anyone- didn’t even shut the car door as she drove off-“
The road in front of you was a blur as you followed the sickly trail of blood that leaked through an opening in the bushes, the ignition still running as you hopped out. You clambered through the bushes, wincing as a branch snagged against your cheek.
The silence was deafening as you whined, pushing through a broken web before stumbling upon the severed horse in the distance. Your scream entangled in your mouth, trapped between your tonsils as you subsided to the forest floor, the grunts of the dead stampeding across the stallion’s body, hisses of torn flesh seeping with blood as its head buried into the thickness of crimson-coloured mud.
“Get off him,” was supposed to leave your throat, but nothing did. Your whine was agonising, scorching through the grounds around you as the carbon steel slipped from your fingers, your hands shoving at the zombies surrounding the corpse as you grabbed the rock you had dropped earlier, pummelling into the rotting skull of one.
The sickly scent of mould infiltrated you as you gagged, straddling the body of another as you thrashed down on it, the squelch of a blackening brain migrating into the crevices of the miniature boulder. Your lips were pulled back in a snarl as you kicked the final deformity from your horse, battered hands colliding with the brittle bones that supported a decayed cerebrum.
Your pummels were never-ending, the rock scraping into the dirt as the monster turned to mush, nothing but the crumble of perished organs left. Your wail was excruciating as you collapsed against the dead horse, his body mangled into a pile of broken flesh, wounds tethered against fur as his eyes rolled into a lifeless state.
The rain that followed was harsh, pooling around you in an infested state as you struggled to breathe, your lungs popping with turmoil as you bawled, thick hiccups catching in your throat.
Your body collapsed into a tender frame as you struggled, clambering to save the horse that was already dead. “L-Let me go,” you wept, as heavy arms only took you away. There was a soft rustle against your hair, fingers running through the locks of your hair to comfort you, the sound of a gunshot going off in the distance.
Your eyes were struck, by blank images of massacred limbs and stolen innocence coerced you to stay awake as you stared aimlessly down the road, your ears static as Ghost attempted to talk to you, his hands tucked around your waist.
You didn’t reply.
You were grief-stricken, barely able to make it up the stairs as you were undressed, wounds seeping across broken skin as you barely hissed when a rag was pressed against it. You were defunct, your eyes void of nothing as your lips folded into a thin line.
The bare warmth of the water did nothing for you as Price lifted you in. Unheard words passed through you as you watched him walk away, your head slipping under, and your eyes still open.
You didn’t want to close them. Not now, not again. It was a deadly compilation. Flickering images of the gruesome scene haunt you with every blink. The water had turned a murky pink, dirty liquid sloshing as hands scorned under your arms.
“Sweet’art, I need you to answer me. I need you to tell me if you swallowed any blood or flesh.”
You only blinked.
“Y/N, I’m serious,” Price snarled, prying open your mouth as you snapped him away.
“No.”
That was enough for him.
The rest of the night had turned to a soundtrack of haze, pushy hands bringing water to your lips as you shoved them away. Your knees were sticky with wet cotton and bandages, your palms stinging with the residue of alcohol. They all came in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead in an attempt to soothe you.
Simon was last, his hands resting against your cheeks as he pressed dry lips into the heat of your skin. You winced as you grabbed his wrist, broken eyes glancing up at him with strains of blood-shot veins.
"Will you stay?"
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Text
siren song
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
This used to be an OC but I'm changing it to a reader insert; Other characters will still talk about "you" in the third person. While a reader insert, the MC will still be American and have a fleshed out backstory.
They called you Siren They called him Ghost
----
"Siren," Price told Laswell, "Sniper, expert in infilitration and undercover ops. American Special Forces."
Kate stared at the picture for a moment before asking, "Siren? As in the sea creature?"
Price shot her a half-smile. "Yes, the same. She seems to be the weakness of every man and she knows it. She's damn good with a rifle but her best weapon is herself."
next chapter: chapter 1
Notes: This is my first Ghost story! I have played the campaign and I just couldn't help myself! This is just the prologue but they will meet next chapter. Oh, and this fic will 1000% have smut. This takes place before and during the first mission, "Strike"
This used to be an OC but I'm changing it to a reader insert; Other characters will still talk about "you" in the third person.
Prologue
"Who's your crew?"
John Price sat opposite of Kate Laswell, taking in the cozy atmosphere of the cafe, but still somehow feeling on edge from recent events.
"Sergaent Garrick," Price replied. 
"Kyle?" 
"They call him 'Gaz'." the Captain continued, "He never said anything."
He handed Kate the folder for Gaz and continued reading. "John MacTavish, SAS. Sniper - demolitions. Goes by 'Soap'."
"Why?" Kate questioned as he handed her Soap's dossier.
"That's classified." 
Kate gave him a dubious look, eliciting a chuckle before he moved on.
"There he is..." Price said, handing Kate the folder. "Simon Riley." 
Laswell's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "There's no picture."
Price's reply was quick. "Never."
He handed her a final file, one with a picture of a woman with hair the color of fresh espresso and with a face like an angel. But it was the eyes that set you apart, a piercing hue that seemed a little too empty, void of emotion in comparison to your smile. At first glance you seemed harmless, but the longer one looked, the more unnerving your portrait grew.
"Siren," Price told her, "Sniper, expert in infilitration and undercover ops. American Special Forces."
Kate stared at the picture for a moment before asking, "Siren? As in the sea creature?"
Price shot her a half-smile. "Yes, the same. She seems to be the weakness of every man and she knows it. She's damn good with a rifle but her best weapon is herself."
"Now the rest," he continued, leaning forward across the table, "That's need to know. Unless we got a deal."
"What are you calling this task force?" Laswell asked.
"1-4-1."
---------
Months later
13 July 2022
2200, Upscale hotel somewhere in Europe
The bar was crowded but you weren't focused on all the other people. Those who were drinking away their sorrows, the ones meeting mistresses, and suits on a business trip. No, you was focused on the group of ten Russian Ground Forces operatives in the corner, sporting casual clothes instead of a uniform. Your eyes jumped from man to man, silently matching them up in your head with some of the pictures in the brief General Shepard gave you. Of course, this was only a portion of them, there were about fifty in total staying in the hotel. All of them were waiting on a flight to Al Mazrah and transporting a boat load of weapons, and it was your job to figure out exactly where they were headed.
You leaned back against, resting your elbows on the bar as you sat on a barstool, softly jutting out your chest and letting your hair perfectly frame your face. You knew you were beautiful, and you knew what men would do, what men would say, for a beautiful woman; all the secrets they would reveal, just to touch. A strapless navy dress stuck to your body like a second skin, accentuating every curve on your body, save for a slit in the leg that went up to your mid-thigh. 
Your targets were already glancing your way. Oogling, more like.
Too easy, you thought. You intentionally locked eyes with one of them and batted your eyelashes innocently before looking away, appearing embarrassed to the untrained eye. For extra affect, you crossed one leg over another, causing the slit to reveal more of your smooth skin. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw some of his buddies nudging him and pointing in your direction, all of your plans falling neatly into place. You brought your eyes back to the man now coming towards you and made a show of looking at him up and down, pointing your gaze in between his legs for a second longer and giving a sultry look. You could see his throat working to gulp down his nerves. 
He squeezed himself in the opening beside you and you turned to fully face him. He was average looking, nothing too special. It was what was in his pants you were interested in.
His phone.
"Hello, beautiful," his accent was thick, but the English seemed fluent.
"Hello there," you cooed, letting your voice become sickeningly sweet.
"You are not from here?" He questioned, noticing your accent sticking out among the natives around you.
"No," you replied, "I'm from America but I'm on a work trip. What brings you here?" As you talked, you ran your finger over the hand he had placed on the bar and traced nonsensical patterns.
"A-Also business," he said, obviously getting distracted by the physical contact. You kicked it up a notch, going as far as to rub your high-heeled foot along the side of his calf.  You leaned forward and was pleased to note he seemed already intoxicated, speeding up your plan by being able to avoid spending needless time ordering drinks.
You placed your hand on the man's chest and ran it slowly upwards before traveling down one of his arms. He seemed young and nervous but also attempted to exude confidence while you carressed him.
"I'm only here for tonight but..." you purposefully trailed off, looking at him with doe-eyes and gently biting you lip. "I've been looking for a real man to help me." You were laying it on a little thick, but time was of the essence, and he didn't seem all that concerned. You had him right there and decided to go in for the kill. 
You leaned in real close and whispered in his ear, "I need a man to fuck me."
He audibly groaned, prompting you to bite his earlobe softly before pulling his hand off the bar and setting it on your waist. "Can you be that man for me?"
He nodded comically fast and pulled you to stand up, not bothering to wait for any privacy before sliding his hand down over your ass. A long time ago, you would have been repulsed. You would have showered for days, trying to scrub off any evidence. Now, you didn't feel it at all, didn't pay attention to anything except your next goal: getting him away from his phone. He led you out of the crowded bar, leaving his friends to cheer him on. You boarded the empty elevator and he pushed you against the wall after pressing his floor, smashing his lips against yours. It was sloppy and anything but a turn on but you willingly let him explore your mouth and grope your body and reciprocated with responding movements, all while you were plotting on how to steal the information from him.
A hand made its way to your covered breast. I bet the information is in his email.
Another grabbed your thigh and hiked it over his hip. These lower guys never bother to encrypt anything, a blessing, really.
A hardness grinded into the apex of your thighs and you let out a manufactured moan. Luckily they are on a tight schedule, they likely won't look for a body tomorrow when he doesn't show.
The ding of the elevator caused him to break away and grab your hand before rushing to a hotel room. As he fumbled with the keycard you kissed and bit his neck, all while sliding your fingertips below his belt. He finally got the door open and pulled you inside. He attacked you with his lips again and shoved his tongue in your mouth, pawing at your ass and grinding into your hip.
Pathetic. You thought to yourself while you faked a whimpering noise and a gasp when he moved on from your lips to bite the top of your left breast. While he was occupied, you reached for the small, curved knife, a minuture karambit, that sat holstered in a sewn in slot inside your dress, just under your armpit. One of his hands creeped up the inside of your thigh, touching the edge of your lace lingerie. 
However, he never made it to his destination on account of the knife sticking in his neck.
A quick kill, although a little bloody. His body fell limp on the ground in front of you, blood continuing to pool out. You dislodged your knife and searched his pockets, finally pulling out his phone. 
"Jackpot."
You used his finger to open up the phone before stepping over his body and sitting on the bed, all of your attention now focused on scanning for any information about tomorrow's final destination for the selling the weapons. A certain message caught your eye; it detailed the schedule for tomorrow and the directions to the base they were meeting at in Al Mazrah for the arms deal. A sense of satisfaction filled you at acquiring this information. You did not feel guilty about killing the man. You have killed many men, and the part of you that felt guilt for the role you played died a long time ago.
You wiped off the blood that got on your chest and walked out of the room, phone in hand. You were not worried about cameras, you knew the CIA counter-terrorism team would take care of it. You took the elevator back up to your own room and immedaitely went for your computer once inside. You pulled up the video call option for General Shepard and sat in the chair, not caring about your mused hair or slightly smeared lipstick or the bruise forming on your upper breast.
He answered immediately and with him was Kate Laswell, the CIA Station Chief. "Siren, tell me you have intel," the general said in lieu of a greeting.
"Of course, sir," you replied. "I have the location, I'm sending you the coordinates now. They are located in Al Mazarah. It says they will be meeting with General Ghorbani."
Both Laswell and Shepard sported a confused look at that. "Why would they be meeting with Ghorbani?" Laswell questioned out loud.
"We will find out tomorrow," Shepard said. "For now, Siren, continue."
"Any hiccups?" Laswell questioned.
"Just the usual," you said. "I will need someone to remove a body and dispose of security footage but other than that, everything was smooth."
"Great work, Sergeant. Your next assignment will begin immediately. You have been apart of the 141 Task Force for some time, but now you will begin your work with a team. Your flight leaves tonight." 
---
15 July 2022
1600, Al Mazrah, U.R.A
"Watcher-1 to Bravo 0-7, you in position?"
Ghost walked through the rocky terrain, stepping back into the sunlight. 
"Nearly there," he replied, continuing moving, climbing towards a vantage point on the sands below. He heard the helicopter before he saw it, flying straight overhead and towards the target point. "Got a heli incoming."
"That's General Ghorbani." Laswell replied.
"He's punctual, I'll give him that," General Shepard chimed in. "Now get up there and see what he's up to in the middle o' nowhere." 
Ghost climbed up a few more rocks, finally reaching the opening and peering down at the base. "I'm eyes on."
"What do you see?" Laswell questioned. He brought out his Spotter Scope and peered down at all the equipment and people milling about.
"Armed personnel, armor and hardware," he replied. "All Russian."
"Our intel was right about them meeting," Shepard said. "But it still doesn't explain why the Russians would be meeting with Ghorbani."
"Supplying Iran," Kate replied, "it's an arms deal." Ghost sat silently as they talked, observing the scene below.
"You copying this Shadow-1?" Shepard asked Graves.
"Affirmative, two birds, one stone..."
"We need positive ID on Ghorbani before we kick this off boys."
"Ghost, can you identify the General?"
Ghost scanned the area, zooming in to look at specific people, checking to see if they were Ghorbani. He found a bunch of soldiers in one spot and said as much. "Armed escorts around one VIP. Russians are very happy to see him."
"It'll be the last time they do..." General Shepard said in response.
"Visual on General Ghorbani."
"Copy. All stations target confirmed."
"Shadow-1," Shepard started, "you are cleared hot for launch."
"Roger that, Actual," Phillip Graves replied. "Ghost, you are danger close to the zone. This arrow's gonna pack a punch."
"Copy. Approved," Ghost replied. "Send it."
"All stations, Shadow-1. Missle is ready for immediate delivery, stand by for launch. Coordinates. Target designated. Two... One... Shot out."
Soon enough the missle hit the target and the force of it made Ghost step back a bit. "Bloody fuckin' hell. Direct. Target destroyed."
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thecosmiccrow · 8 months
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HOOY SHIT I FORGOT TO POST THIS
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its art back from *squints* DECEMBER 5TH?
anyways yeah this was MEANT to be posted alongside chapter 2 of farhen’s fanfic “Denial” but. he has yet to he has now posted it. go fucking read it or i KILL you ten trillion lightning bolts forever.
been losing motivation to draw MD art, so wondering if you guys would be interested in looking at the other things i do while I fill the void? I feel like I’ve been neglecting y’all :<
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oceansblvds · 3 months
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void in blue (gojo satoru) — chapter one
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pairing ; satoru gojo x reader (suguru's sister)
words ; 2.7k
summary ; satoru gojo comes to your door after weeks of silence, with a proposition that will change your lives forever.
warning(s) ; mentions of sex, swearing, gojo clan being gojo clan, mentions of breeding, overall a messy argument, mentions of death
masterlist can be found here !
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Gojo Satoru was in bed with another woman when he got the call that he was dreading for most of his life. 
He always knew that the clan would try to pull something like this. They were all meddling in his business whether he wanted them to or not. That’s what he got for being born the strongest in all of the world, with Six Eyes and Limitless all packed into a 6 '3 package with a nice little bow on it, a gift to a clan who spent too much time worrying about the future and what it could hold. From the moment that he was old enough to comprehend the idea of marriage, he knew that it wasn’t going to be his choice. When it happened and who it would be with were out of the question. In some ways, he thought that perhaps this whole mess over the last year and a half would’ve stalled them a bit. It was the least that they could do for what happened, the turmoil being both physical and emotional for so many parties involved. 
He should’ve known that they wouldn’t be that generous. 
Typically, he didn’t like to stay the night for his hookups. It was better to fuck and be out the door within the next ten minutes so that he didn’t have to answer constant questions about whether or not he would come back. He found himself somewhat in a loop, where he would go out during the nights that he couldn’t sleep for fear of plaguing nightmares, find someone to spend his company with, and then leave before the sun came up the next morning. No matter how disheartening the loop was to the others involved, he kept telling himself that it was for the better this way. It was better to not get close to anyone again, for fear that something like Geto would happen again. In some other timeline, perhaps things would be different. His best friend would still be here and they would be teaching the next generation of Jujutsu Sorcerers together. But things weren’t different. Suguru was dead. Satoru was broken. End of story.
“Where are you going?” The woman uttered, her bright eyes finding his own under the dim light of the lamp she had turned on when he began to rustle out of bed. “You don’t want to stay for round three?” 
“I’ll call you.” 
He wouldn’t. 
You couldn’t tell if Satoru was trying to be an asshole or if this was something that your rose colored glasses had hid from you for all the years that you considered him your friend. He barely reached your eye when he told you that he had something to talk to you about, looking at you, though more like looking through you. There was a time that you would’ve gone to the ends of the Earth to understand what his facial expressions meant, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you allowed him to push past you into your apartment.  
The silence between the two of you wasn’t even deafening, it was just awkward. Satoru made his way to the island counter, pulling back the stool and sitting on it so that he was eye level with you. He patted to the seat next to him, something that he would always do to you to get you to do what he wanted for all those years before. You refused, instead coming to the opposite side and leaning against the cool granite. He had his sunglasses on, cool blue toned eyes shining against them, right into the core of your very being. Like he was trying to rip you apart with his gaze, ripping through your ribcage and bearing your organs on display for him so that he could see the hidden depths of your emotions. You didn’t allow him to see anything, a stoic look on your face as you raised an eyebrow, pushing silently for him to begin. You didn’t want him to be here any longer than he needed to be. It seemed he was in the same boat, he looked like he wanted to run off as soon as he bore whatever news he had in store. 
“Where’d the pictures go?” Satoru asked, motioning towards the empty walls. You knew exactly what he was talking about, and yet you turned your head to look at them anyway. When you looked back at Satoru, he was glaring at you. 
You shrugged. “Seemed fitting.” 
“Do you plan on just erasing his memory all together? Even the good parts?” 
You could’ve hit him for that. 
You had never been a particularly violent person, always preferring talking something out rather than resorting to punches and kicks. It seemed like that part of you had been taken and stored away somewhere, tucked between the junction of your heart and lungs, slowly being squeezed to death every second your pulse beat. Satoru always liked getting under your skin, something that came with the title of being your brother's best friend. But to do it now? It was like he was trying to make you mad. 
“You tell me, you’re the one that killed him.” 
“Don’t act like you didn’t have any part of that, like I wasn’t doing what was best for everyone.” 
You scoffed. “Oh yes, the great Satoru Gojo. Man of the people.” 
A silence fell, to where you could only glare at him and he could pretend to be hurt. It was clear that he wasn’t able to fool you, to charm you like the rest of his friends into thinking that any of this was okay. It wasn’t. It wouldn’t ever be okay. You wished to live in a world where you didn’t have to think about Satoru, where you could forget all about him and what happened to your brother, to your family. 
However, in some sick way, you could only hope to cling onto him. Whether that be with hatred or disgust or anything in between. He was the only one who could even begin to understand what you were going through, and as much as you hated to admit it, you would never be rid of Satoru Gojo. 
“Why are you here, Satoru? It’s the middle of the night,” You asked. You turned around and turned on the electric stove, putting the water filled kettle on like it was muscle memory. When a friend came over, you always made tea for them. It turns out that the body remembers those types of things even if your mind doesn’t. You reached for the glass container that held different types of tea bags, from herbal to caffeinated, instinctively grabbing the sweetest one for him. Some things never did change.
“There’s something that I need to talk to you about.” 
“You already said that,” You snapped. “Do you plan on dragging this out or would you like to tell me what is so important that you couldn’t wait until morn—” 
“The clan wants us to marry.” 
Your movements stalled, your hand hovering over the handle of the kettle as it started to squeak with the pressure of the steam coming out of the spout. Instead of relieving it and allowing for it to cool off, you stood there, staring at it, as the kettle started to get louder and louder. If Satoru was talking, you couldn’t hear it, the shrieking filling up the walls of the apartment until you decided to relieve it, pushing it away and burning yourself in the process. You couldn’t feel it though, numbness seeping ever so slightly into your entire body as you processed the word he spoke over and over again. Marry. 
Satoru continued to speak. “The clan,” a sigh, “my clan, thinks that it’s in everyone's best interest if I marry someone in order to provide for the future. I thought that they were going to choose someone from their own families, to further some type of political agenda, but they want you.” 
You couldn’t believe your ears. You were sure that your family was blacklisted from Jujutsu society after what happened with your brother. You were the only one left, and you were fine with being shunned and whatever came from that, but to be integrated into it in such an . . . intimate way? It sounded almost comical, like he was making it up. For a moment, you thought about the notion that maybe he was making it up. But as you turned around and looked at him, there wasn’t a hint of enjoyment scattered across the part of his face that you could say. In fact, this was probably the most distressed that you had ever seen him. 
“You can’t expect me to accept this,” You said. “This doesn’t even make sense, why me? They want us to marry, after everything that happened?” 
Satoru nodded, as if it was black and white, like this was the easiest thing in the world to talk about. It made you want to rip out your hair, that he was able to act so emotionless about something like this. Your future. His future. He acted like it was something that could be controlled by people who had no idea what the fuck was going on, people who only saw your lives as something to be meddled in and played with like you were toy dolls. “They believe that it’s the only way to secure the future of Jujutsu society. Your bloodline is powerful, whether you want to admit it or not. They think our union could produce the strongest sorcerer the world has ever seen.” 
You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe a word he was saying. “So, this is about breeding a powerful sorcerer? Like we’re some kind of livestock? Do they actually think that this will work? That I would agree to this with no questions asked?” 
“It’s more than that,” Satoru said, his voice strained. “The recent rise in cursed spirits has everyone on edge. The clan elders believe that combining our strengths is the only way to ensure our survival. It’s not just politics; it’s the world’s survival. It’s what’s best for everyone.” 
“I’m supposed to marry you to save the world? Do they really think that a forced marriage will do that?” You scoffed, the bitterness in your tone ever so clear. “What’s best for everyone,” You repeated, disbelief lacing each syllable of your words. “And what about what’s best for us? For me? My brother is dead because of you, there’s no mending that.” 
Satoru leaned against the counter, his hand reaching for your own, which you pulled away before he could touch, going back to making the tea so that you had something to do instead of staying idle and listening to this . . . this bullshit. “They think it’s our best shot,” He replied. “They’re desperate, and desperate people do desperate things.” 
With the weight of his words and the reality of the situation pressing down on you both, you poured the boiling water into two cups, the motions automatic and detached. “You’re actually considering this,” You spoke, more a statement than a question. You felt a wave of anger rising, mixed with sadness and confusion. None of this made sense to you, really. There seemed to be a better option, but when you thought about it, you couldn’t come to any conclusions. You felt as dumb as the rest of the clan was.  “I can’t believe you’d go along with this bullshit.” 
“I don’t want to force you into anything,” Satoru said, his usual arrogance gone, laced with something you couldn’t quite put your fingers on. “But if we don’t do this, the consequences could be disastrous, more people could get hurt. We could lose everything.” 
“And you think marrying me will prevent that?” You shot back, putting the teabag in both of your cups and turning to push the cup towards him on the table. You then crossed your arms over your chest. “Do you really believe that, or is this just another way for your clan to control us? To control you?” 
“This isn’t about control; it’s about survival.” 
“Satoru, I don’t know if you have noticed, but I don’t necessarily care about my survival,” You spat, the bitterness in your voice cutting through the air. You didn’t care if you lived or if you died, you didn’t care what happened to Jujutsu society, especially if the future meant more Satoru’s running around the world. It was all in ruin, and to you, everything could just get worse. Why would you contribute to that? 
Satoru flinched, but he held his ground, as he always did. His expression tightened, his brows furrowing slightly at your words.  “You should care,” He said, his voice low but firm. “Survival isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about everyone who depends on us.” 
You scoffed bitterly, the irony of the situation seeping into your voice. “Everyone who depends on us? Like my brother who depended on you? Look where that got him.” You could almost hear your brother’s laugh through the silence. 
His jaw clenched visibly, the usually composed facade beginning to crack under your words. “I didn’t ask for any of this to happen,” He retorted, a flicker of defensiveness in his tone. “I tried to protect him, tried to get him to see reason, tried to get him —”
“Did you?” You shot back, your voice rising with accusation that was all too familiar these days. “Or were you too busy playing the hero, too blinded by your own arrogance to see the consequences? To see that he was hurting too. That he could’ve been detained.” 
Satoru took a sharp breath, as if your words were a physical blow. “I did what I thought was right,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just like I’m trying to do now.” 
“Right?” You scoffed. “There’s nothing right about any of this.” 
He reached out again, his hand hovering in the air between the two of you as if he wanted to comfort you but knew better than to try. Not if he wanted to have boiling water thrown into his face and cuts from a broken teacup along his pale cheeks. “I wish there was another way,” He said. “We have to figure out a way to navigate this together. Maybe there’s a way we can turn this situation to our advantage.” 
“Advantage?” You echoed incredulously. “There’s no advantage in being shackled to you.” 
“Maybe not now,” He admitted, his gaze almost pleading. You almost felt bad for him. “But if we work together—”
“I won’t be your pawn,” You interrupted, your voice trembling with a raw defiance you had thought you lost the moment your brother died. “Not now, not ever.” There was no world where you would bend to the whims of Satoru Gojo and let him walk all over you. Not him or his clan elders. 
Satoru looked at you with a mix of . . . what? Was it anger? Annoyance? Pity? You were unsure. Perhaps it was unfair of you to be this unruly about it, when he was the bearer of bad news. You knew that this decision wasn’t his deep down, but that didn’t stop you from being angry at him for it. This was the first time that you have seen him in days, since everything that happened, and he was telling you this? He made it seem like you had a choice in the matter. The truth was that you didn’t. “Suguru would want you—” 
“Do not bring him into this,” You said, your stern tone wavering with a mixture of unshed tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “I don’t want you to ever say his name to me. You don’t deserve to.” 
Satoru sighed, a mix of resignation and determination mixed into his expression. “I didn’t expect you to make this easy. But I hope you’ll at least consider what’s at stake.” 
You turned away from him. “I’ll consider it,” you finally said. “But don’t expect me to agree to this without a fight.” 
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” 
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ellethespaceunicorn · 11 months
Text
The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Two
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Chapter Two: The Cabin in the Woods
Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader
Word Count: 3K
Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.
Chapter Summary: You search the woods for the house you were taken to that night. It’s been hours and you’re lost. Your phone has no service, it is getting dark, and your dumbass didn’t tell anyone you were going on an adventure.
Warnings: mutual pining
A/N: A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. I really hope y’all enjoy this one. It was a tough one to write, Walter was so feisty!
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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When you arrived at the hospital, you had another nurse and colleague check out your head injury on your next shift. Armed with a clean bill of health and a brain bursting with unanswered questions, you try to go about your day. 
The entirety of your workday was spent having coworkers break you out of a trance. Every few minutes, you’d gaze off into nothingness until those around you noticed and snapped their fingers in front of your face. You kept thinking about the wolf and Walter, trying to piece the two together. 
After work, you change your clothes and put on your hiking boots. Even though the drive from the cabin to Liv’s house was short, that was in a vehicle. On foot, you will need to cover a lot of ground. You decided against driving your car down the road that splits the forest. 
If you parked at the entrance to the forest near the park grounds, you could easily sneak back to your car and bypass the curfew checkpoint at the tree line. Not that you planned on being out until nightfall. 
Parking your car in the gravel-filled lot, you tighten your scarf around your neck and start your journey into the woods. Walking takes you about ten minutes to get to the clearing where you and Olivia enjoyed wine coolers. It didn’t seem like it took you this long to get to the clearing a couple of days ago, but you don’t stay long enough to dwell on it.
Retracing your steps, you walk for another few minutes in search of the tree with the giant roots jutting out from the forest floor. After ten minutes of wandering, you think about giving up because daylight is in short supply. Looking down at your phone, you curse when you see the battery percentage looking back at you. Eleven percent wouldn’t get you far should you need to make an urgent call or use the flashlight since you forgot to bring one.
After another few minutes of traipsing through the forest, you trip over a large root and accidentally find your tree. Following the roots, you find the little alcove that you had planned to hide in during your game with Liv. You notice the setting sun as you turn to sit on the higher roots. 
Taking out your phone, you realize that it had shut off due to low power. Shoving it back in your pocket, you stand up and wipe a hand down your face. You’re pissed off, cold, and now have no way to contact anyone should you need to. Anger boils your blood as you stand in the now-dark forest.
Pacing for a few seconds doesn’t calm you down. You start to hear all the little nocturnal animals coming alive and usually, you would find this peaceful. However, you would give anything to hear a certain howl. But it’s just crickets, frogs, and owls out tonight.
You don’t know what else to do but…
“Fuck. Fuck! Fuuuuuuuuuck!” You scream out into the void, it would seem.
Until you hear a response in the form of a huff behind you. 
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When you turn around, you're only a little surprised to see the same wolf from before walking toward you. You stand still until it stops about a foot from you. You look down and study its paws, large enough to rip your throat out. But the wolf just sits down as a dog would and looks up at you before yawning, showing off its sharp teeth and long dusty-mauve tongue. 
If this were a dog, you would have reached out a hand to pet it. But the sheer size of it was enough to keep your hands to yourself. You didn't have to think about that for long before the wolf was back on all fours walking around you and nudging at your leg as it started to walk away. It doesn't make it far before it turns around to look at you.
"Oh, am I supposed to follow you or something?" You feel silly asking the wolf a question, but only less so when it huffs in response, "Okay. Following a wolf wasn't on the itinerary. But it isn't attacking me so whatever," You finish, mostly to yourself.
Following the wolf, you notice you are going in a completely different direction through the forest. Of course, the last time you were here was an inebriated adventure but you could've sworn you would go right instead of left. Either way, you're putting your faith in a four-legged carnivore so you stop thinking about what should or shouldn't be happening.
A light in the distance can be seen through the trees and once you reach it, you find yourself in front of a medium-sized cabin. There is a light at the little fence encircling the property. The black Ford F-150 that Walter drove is parked to the side in the driveway. You have to admit you didn't expect to see this place look so...normal. It almost looks quaint.
You shuffle on your feet and are suddenly too nervous to propel you forward. Whining at your side reminds you that you aren't alone. You absentmindedly reach your hand out to stroke the wolf's fur. Thick, coarse fur slides through your fingers. Glowing, yellow eyes look into yours and your fear starts to dissipate. The wolf licks at your hand and then takes off around the back of the cabin.
You think about shouting after it or running after it, but instead, you walk up to the fencing. You could swear you hear a door being closed in the back of the cabin, but you can't be sure and you don't want to snoop. Opening the latch to the gate, you walk through the front yard dragging your feet. Your fight or flight response makes an appearance when you hear movement in the house. 
'It's now or never,' you think, raising your hand to knock on the door. 
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Three sharp knocks and you shove your hands in your pockets, waiting for the door to be opened. You jump at the sound of something crashing to the ground and soon the light above the door is turned on. You hold up a hand over your eyes as the harsh fluorescent beams down on you in the dark of night. The door is opened and you take your hand down to see Walter standing there. You’re once again under the spell of him.
He stands tall at about 6’1", and his hair is a disheveled mess but it only adds to the sex appeal. His brows are scrunched together and it doesn’t look like he needs you at his doorstep right now by the scowl across his pretty pink lips. He’s shirtless, sweaty, breathing hard, and smells like a wet dog. The denim shorts he wears are tattered at the ends and his defined calves are on display. His bare feet are a bit dirty as if he’s been running barefoot.
Your eyes shoot back up to his, a faint glow makes his blue eyes look almost golden. He blinks a few times and the glow is gone, aquamarine replaces gold. 
You run through a mental checklist. Wet dog smell, check. Frayed shorts that were probably thrown on in a hurry, check. Golden eyes, check. You feel so stupid thinking about the last item. Walter’s hair color is the same as the wolf that brought you here. 
“Are you going to come in or are you going to just stare at me like I’m a–”
“Werewolf?” You blurt out, cutting off Walter’s sentence.
“Just come in, and I can explain everything,” He opens the door and steps aside to let you in, but you don’t move, “I won’t hurt you, I promise. Please come in?” 
His sincere tone and pleading eyes get the better of you. You sigh, chewing the inside of your cheek. Walking in, you step just inside the living room, giving Walter enough space to close the door behind you. You notice a side table knocked over, a lamp, and small knickknacks on the floor next to it. You turn back to look at him and his face is that of a kicked puppy.
Of course, it is.
“Look, I didn’t–”
“As much as I want to have this conversation right now, I can’t get over how much you smell. I’m gonna need you to take care of that ASAP. Go get clean and I’ll tidy up. And where is the kitchen? I need coffee if I’m gonna have this conversation sober.” You say, taking off your coat and laying on the back of the couch.
Walter walks you to the kitchen and watches as you busy yourself with the coffee maker. You tell him politely to get out of his kitchen and go shower. He opens his mouth to talk but closes it when he sees your eyebrows raise and your hand go to your hip. He simply nods and walks away. You hear him walk up the stairs and soon the faint sound of a shower being turned on before a door is closed.
You fill the coffee maker with grounds and water, setting it then make your way to the living room. Picking up the end table, you turn it right side up and set it on its legs. You bend down to pick up the figurines from the floor. You’re not surprised when they turn out to be two wolves, the larger one made of light wood and the smaller wolf a dark mahogany.
You hear the coffee maker sputtering and go in to check on it. Pulling out two mugs from their spot in the corner cabinet, you fill one and leave one for Walter, not sure if he even wants coffee so late at night. Did werewolves even drink coffee?
So, that’s it. You’re just entertaining the idea that werewolves not only exist but that you’re in a cabin with one. In the back of your mind, your grandfather’s tale of the Claw Creek creature demands attention. You were going over it when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
You bring your mug to your mouth to take a sip when Walter appears in the doorway, just as beautiful as when you saw him for the first time. His wet hair curls around his ears. He’s wearing a tighter-than-necessary heather gray henley, the front of it holding onto his pecs for dear life while the sleeves are pulled up to show off muscular forearms. A pair of jeans hug his meaty legs and boots cover his feet.
“You stare a lot.” His words break you out of your ogling and you finally pull down the mug from your lips.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Wolfie,” you comment, suddenly hyperaware that you may have just said something rude.
Walter’s chuckle surprises you, and you’re put at ease, “Wolfie?” He challenges, walking toward you.
You shrug your shoulders and stand your ground, looking up at him as he stops in front of you. He nods to the coffee maker and you step back to let him make a cup for himself. He takes a sip and hums at the flavor. He turns to ask you about it and you answer before he can open his mouth.
“Cinnamon. Just a few shakes and it takes away the sharp bitterness. Now, if you’re done talking about coffee, can we talk about how you can turn into a wolf?” Your frustration peeks through and Walter nods, leading you back into the living room.
Once you get to the couch, you set down your coffee on the table in front of you and turn to face Walter. He takes the cue and starts to speak.
“So, what do you want to know? Do you want me to go through my entire lifetime? It’s quite long, so far. Or start where I was attacked and bitten by someone I thought was a friend? Should I dispel werewolf myths about uncontrollable shifting during the full moon?” He rambles on, probably trying to confuse you or overwhelm you. 
Luckily, you’re already overwhelmed so his attempt is in vain.
“I have a couple of questions. The first one is: Do you eat people? The second one is: Could you follow my scent to find me?” you offer, pulling your leg up to sit on it while leaning against the back of the couch.
“I don’t eat people. I don’t think Werewolves as a whole, ever eat people. Attack? Sure. But no, I don’t crave human flesh,” he pauses, looking down at his hands, “How’d you know about the scent thing?” He’s suddenly super interested in his fingernails.
“I didn’t know about the scent thing. You just confirmed a hunch, is all,” You reach for your mug, bringing it closer to your lips before taking a sip, “One more question and I’ll release you from the hot seat. Are you safe out here? Like, I mean, with the animal mutilations in the town, they were talking about sending hunters out to look for whatever was doing it.”
“That wasn’t me, just so you know. I’m safe out here. I actually live in town, I just come here to shift and get some time away. No one comes out this way. This used to be an abandoned shack, but I fixed it up over the past years. Got electricity going and made it...wait. You care if I’m safe out here?” he presses, a toothy grin showing off his sharp canines.
“You saved my life, I can’t care about your wellbeing? I’m being nice, don’t push it, Wolfie,” you snap, a little harsher than you meant to. You did feel lied to, but he was being honest with you. You shake your head before insisting, “I’m sorry, I just...this is a lot. And I need you to know that I was really pissed off with you in the beginning, but I know why you didn’t tell me. Safety and all that. Maybe you can drive me back to my car so I can start the drive back home?” You were cut off by an intense yawn that came out of nowhere.
“Speaking of safety, you look like you’re ready to fall over. You’ve had all of about two sips of coffee and that yawn almost unhinged your jaw a bit there. Just, I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re tired behind the wheel,” he admits, turning concerned eyes on you.
“You know, as a wolf, using puppy dog eyes on me should be considered unfair. And how do I know this is not some elaborate excuse to get me into your bed so you can have your way with me, huh?” you huff, squinting at him as his eyes glimmer in the low light of the room.
“Do you want me to have my way with you?” he leans back, head over his shoulder, and crosses his arms over his broad chest.
Your hand flies out to slap his bicep. You figure that was easier than giving him the answer that was on the tip of your tongue.
He rolls his eyes and gets up from the couch, pointing to your coffee cup in your hand and motioning for you to give it to him. He takes both of your unfinished cups to the kitchen and when he comes back, he heads for the stairs. “You coming, pup?”
“Pup? Is that because I called you Wolfie?” You stand up from the couch, tilting your head at him before walking to follow him up the steps.
“I don’t know, give me time and I’ll think of something better.” He winks at you and smiles when you duck your head.
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Once Walter shows you to his bedroom, you don’t hide your urge to look over everything in the room while he leans against the open door. You almost get upset when you see that his bedspread isn’t a large picture of a wolf’s face. Somehow you thought it would just fit in with his vibe. But the midnight blue damask comforter that covers the bed is actually way more fitting.
“Wait, where are you gonna sleep if I sleep in here?” You question as you sit on the bed and take off your boots.
“I figured I would sleep on the couch. I don’t need much sleep anyway. Unless that was an invitation…?” he smirks and is surprised when you look to be thinking it over.
“Can you stay in here ‘til I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone.” you confess, looking everywhere but who you were talking to. You can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you also know you won’t sleep in a bed that’s not yours all by your lonesome.
“Are you alright? I mean, of course, you’re not. What am I saying?” he rambles, coming into the room fully and hunching his shoulders so he can seem less intimidating.
Walter walks over to the bed, pulls back the bedspread, and motions for you to crawl under the covers. Once you are comfortable, he turns on a low light on his dresser and turns off the overhead light of the room. Coming back to the bed, he sits at the edge and toes off his boots before you pull him to lie down next to you.
Turning to face him as he lays on his back, you stare at his face as he looks up at the ceiling. You’re interlacing your fingers so that you don’t reach out and trace his jawline when a thought pops into your head.
“When’s the last time you had a woman in your bed?” You breathe, mentally kicking yourself for not thinking longer before you voice your thoughts.
“It’s been a while. Years. I don’t really...mingle much.” He murmurs, eyes never moving from one particular spot.
You refuse to acknowledge the “lone wolf” analogy, instead, you steady yourself before putting a hand on his. “Thank you for saving me, Walter. Goodnight.” Taking your hand back, you close your eyes and let tiredness take its course.
“You’re welcome.” His soft voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s the last thing you hear before you’re fully asleep.
To be continued…
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A/N:  Wow, you mean to tell me I got these two folks in bed together and they’re both dressed still? What?! Don’t hate me!
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physalian · 4 months
Text
Fanfiction is valid form of literature and deserves respect because:
Corporate meddling often takes long-running series and runs them into the ground to squeegee out as much money as possible, ruining characters, relationships, lore, and magic systems that fix-it fics repair
Just because it is provided for free and by unpaid writers who slave away tens of hours of their lives trying to entertain people, doesn’t make the content that can come from it any less powerful
Fanfic is the place to go for under-represented themes, tropes, and characters in the outdated or unwilling canon
Fanfic is the place to go for fixing problematic plot decisions and characterizations that did not age well
Fanfic is the place to go when the real author becomes a TERF feminazi and the poster child of “death of the author”
Many fics are longer than published works and can do that because they’re entirely digital, bound to no printing limitations, and update per-chapter, as opposed to per-novel, often written without and endpoint in mind
Fanfic is a safe space to explore identities that the canon pretends doesn’t exist, like queer characters and non-monogamous relationships, as well as (theoretically) a safe space to share and explore kinks and have your very own Gay Awakening
Fanfic is bound to no rules of the publishing industry and explores new ways of written works like chat/text fics and drabbles and unconventional forms of narrative layout
Fanfic is also not written by committe or dictated by editors and publishing houses telling you what you can and can't include in your story
Fanfic is a springboard for many original authors
It’s a celebration of canonical works and should be welcomed by all creators of those works, not panned and litigated against when, again, it’s free and earns its writers no money
Fanfic, by its repetitive and familiar nature of throwing known characters and elements into a new situation is less intimidating than an entire bookstore of uncertainty, and still encourages people to read when they otherwise might not
Fanfic’s approachability is helpful to people with neurodivergence, as comforting to fic readers as bargain bin bad movies are to everyone else, or watching reruns of the same 90s sitcom that might not be any better written
Fanfic fosters a community of like-minded people that you might not otherwise find due to geographical location, social status, economic status, or for people who are unable to enter physical public spaces due to disability or anxieties
Big books are expensive and heavy and demand investment when a bad or boring fic does not, and there’s plenty else to fill the fanfic void where a bad book just makes you feel duped for buying it
It’s no more toxic a community than any other hyper-insulated realm of fandom like professional sports, toy/comic book/action figure collecting, LARPing/D&D, or videogaming, and has this reputation because it’s predominantly enjoyed by women and young girls (the terrible scourge that we are)
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juuuulez · 9 months
Text
📰 | part ten: capulet.
info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, gun violence, father figure! Negan, soooomeeee ooonneee has a crush, teenagers in love.
summary: You tussle with your emotions regarding Carl, whilst Grimes and co pay a surprise visit to the Sanctuary.
omg i’m on fire!!!!! cliffhanger ending……but also next chapter will be similarly juicy so don’t fret! also half-written a carl x reader oneshot/drabble i’ll post soon between chapters :P
i’m so glad you all love my saviour reader story because i am her she is me…….this series is my CHILD i will defend it with my life!
-> masterlist <-
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You hadn’t been to Alexandria in, frankly, what felt like years.
It was actually just weeks.
With an alliance between Hilltop, the Kingdom, and Alexandria, things for the Saviours were trickier than ever. Most of the time Negan spent in his office, trying to decode the best play. You helped, of course, and were practically running yourself ragged trying to keep things together at the Sanctuary.
It felt like everyone knew what was happening. Or they expected it, were waiting for it. It irritated you to no end, that others would blatantly show their disbelief in your cause, in Negan’s cause.
And then there was Carl.
You missed him, which was weird. He had become a constant in your life, the arguing and fighting, the pushing and shoving. But now your relationship had crested into something else… and you didn’t hate it.
In fact, you quite enjoyed kissing Carl.
Not that you’d admit that. To him, to anyone. Nobody needed that amount of power over you.
“You can go to bed, doll.”
You looked up from your lap, where a book of supply schedules was scribbled down. You were seated on that long leather couch in Negan’s office, whilst he worked on god knows what. Hopefully a viable strategy.
“No, I’m fine.” You tell him, politely. Too politely.
Truth is, you were hanging on by a thread. But with no supplies from Alexandria, nor Hilltop, the situation at the Sanctuary was becoming dire. You were trying to figure out how to jig things around so that everyone could be satisfied, or maybe even rethinking the points system, making the imaginary economy more competitive.
“I’m serious,” Negan insists, “You don’t gotta be doin’ this shit. It’s below you.”
You roll your eyes, “Who’s gonna do it, then? Simon’s corpse?”
The sarcastic comment earns you a glare in return, which does make you feel a little bad. You’d watched the brawl firsthand, and had almost tried to help Negan, if not for Dwight holding you back. Either way, it didn’t matter, for Simon was eventually strangled to death.
Brutal, but fitting.
Maybe you were trying to fill that void. The line between right-hand man and teenage daughter was thinning.
Negan rose from his seat, coming over to stand in front of you. He didn’t even need to lean down, swiftly plucking the tattered notebook from your lap, to which you groaned and leaned back on the couch.
He inspected it, reading over the numbers and scrawled figures. “You’re doing this wrong.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should start making your wives do the bookkeeping.” You grumbled, laying down on the couch in defeat.
Negan tossed the notebook onto the coffee table, sitting on the couch opposite you. “Doubt they can count past ten.”
It was a terrible thing to say, but got a smile out of you. It was difficult to be in a good mood on so little sleep, so the tiniest hint of happiness was well appreciated.
“When will we go to Alexandria again?”
You tried not to sound too interested in the question, but couldn’t help yourself, and needed to ask. Not for Carl, just for supplies. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
“Soon. Give it another week,” Negan confirmed, though his eyes said he knew something more. “Awfully interested in that shithole, aren’t you?”
This caused you to roll over, onto your side, so you could glare over at the older man. “We need that shithole to survive.”
There was a playful glint on Negan’s face, the words earning a small laugh from him. “Maybe you do. Bet you’re just itchin’ for your little cyclops.”
The joke causes you to bristle, irritation rising as you hoist yourself from the couch, making a play for the door. On such little sleep, you weren’t in the mood to entertain being teased.
But Negan stopped you, that grin still on his face. “Hey, c’mon, doll. You know I’m just tryin’ to rile you up.” He admits, coming to a stand.
The glare remains, but at least you stop your escape, instead just standing near the door with your arms crossed. You’d likely give some defensive retort, but Negan is already speaking again.
“Everyone has their first crush at some point. I’m just surprised it took you this long.”
“I don’t have a crush,” You practically snarl. “I’m not twelve years old.”
“Okay, sorry. Not a crush,” Negan approaches slowly, like you’ll run off again, though is pleased when you stand still. “Sounds like it’s past your bedtime.”
Your nose scrunches up, eyes narrowed in offence as he continues to treat you like a child. But you know he’s just making a point to tease you, judging by that stupid grin on his face, so you try not to react.
His hands bracket your arms, giving you a little spin so that you’re facing the door. But now you sigh, turning back around, unable to just drop this conversation all together.
“You don’t care?” You ask. “Like, if I did have a crush, you don’t even mind? Not that I do, I’m just… wondering.”
Negan smiles, finding your half-confession quite adorable. “That’s what kids do, darlin’. Besides, the boy’s got his head on straight. Certainly got more balls than his father.”
You look down at the floor, a little pensive. “I don’t have a crush on Carl.” You reiterate, standing your ground, trying to sound firm in order to convince the both of you.
He seems to get the hint, understanding that maybe you don’t even know what’s going on. “I know, doll. Don’t stress it too much.” Negan drops the subject, letting his arm encase your back for a small squeeze before letting you go. “Go get some rest.”
You muster up a little smile, finally accepting the offer and scampering back off to bed. After all, you were exhausted, despite that inherent need to make yourself useful. Supply counts could wait.
It was a comforting space, your bedroom, one you retreated to whenever things got overwhelming. It was filled with photos and trinkets, candy stashed away in the drawers, all the things you didn’t have when growing up. It was your space.
That night, you fell asleep weighing the severity of simply going to Alexandria yourself. You passed out a few minutes into debating what transportation to take.
Fortunately, or, probably unfortunately, that wasn’t necessary.
For Alexandria had come to you.
Gunfire was a familiar sound to wake up to. Usually, it was a low-level squabble, or maybe one of the Saviours proving a point. Either way, it never lasted long.
But this time, there was shouting, and more bullets. It was enough to jolt you awake, pushing past that bleary state of consciousness and waiting, still, for it to continue.
It did.
You climbed out of bed with urgency, moving on autopilot as you threw on some jeans, not bothering to change from your sleep tank before bolting for the door.
Just as your fingertips brushed the bat, you realised it wouldn’t do. That gun was still locked away in the bottom drawer, so you reached for it, shoving a handful of bullets into your pocket before leaving.
Now, you’ve never been a very good shot. That’s why you preferred using the bat, or at the very least, hand-to-hand combat. You had terrible aim. But maybe now was the best time to fix that issue.
So, you made your way through the Sanctuary, swiftly stepping through hallways, gun at the ready. You were outside in minutes, the shouting becoming much clearer now, a voice you could recognise:
Rick Grimes.
“Fuck this..” You grumbled, growing irritated with this relentless back and forth. And now, they were in your home.
Another shot blew out the glass from above you, forcing you further against the wall, as the shards piled on the concrete. Some littered your skin, your shoulders bare, due to still wearing a tank intended for sleeping. You didn’t even have a bra on.
But there were worse problems, you supposed.
The gun felt heavy in your hands, fingers twitching around the trigger. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to use it, though that seemed like wishful thinking. You wondered where Negan was, yet believed he could handle himself. You and this gun were the main concern, a gun you had no idea how to use effectively.
You hid behind anything available, crouched down, trying to survey the surroundings. From here, you could see the scattered factions of makeshift soldiers, though Rick was now missing. You presumed he had a similar thought process to you: Negan.
That was fine, for now.
Clutching the gun tightly, you shifted into view, holding it outwards and discharging a shot into the distance. It echoed in the nearby vicinity, though there was too much gunfire to distinguish where it had came from, luckily. It didn’t seem to hit anyone.
What a waste.
“Hey!”
It was a whisper-shout, one clearly intended to gain your attention. You spun your head around, searching for the voice, amongst all the yelling and fighting taking place within your home. It took an embarrassing amount of time until you saw him.
Carl.
Thank fucking god.
He’d been watching you, on alert for your figure the second they arrived. He clocked your creeping approach into the battle field, ducking behind anything possible. It was almost amusing, the stark contrast in how you usually chose to fight, but made sense after you fired that hopeless shot.
You had no idea what was going on, assuming that Negan and Rick were off fighting, whilst a few Saviours tried to keep the rival gang at bay. Or gangs, plural. You guessed that speaking to Carl would be your best chance at getting a grip on the situation. That, and you weren’t in the mood for a defensive Saviour to shoot him.
So, you tried to get closer, looking left and right to make sure the coast was clear before ducking behind rubble or vehicles, anything to provide cover. Carl was used to fighting, sure, but felt slightly anxious for a reason he couldn’t pin. It was just a bad feeling, like something was not right.
This time, Carl called out your name, causing you to look up and at attention. He held out his hand, despite being meters away, a signal to come closer under the cover he’d found.
You clutch the gun tightly, safety off, poised at your side. But it’s difficult to see everyone, from this position, forcing you to inch out from behind the truck in order to get a visual.
Still holding out his hand, Carl waits, watching as you peek your head out.
Pop!
A shot fires, crackling in the distance, though it takes you down with a solid thud.
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marimonana · 2 months
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01-02-03-04-05-06-07
Hello! Thanks to everybody who showed love to the series, life has been really shitty and difficult and you guys help me get thru this chapter of the comic ❤️ One of my close family members has cancer and it’s hard. It’s just is.
My blorbos help off course, but finding motivation is even harder than when dealing with just the “void”.
We are getting to the best paaaart. I’m so excited, even if it takes me ten years I’m gonna finish this lol.
Diana’s mom is not okay. And if her reaction and expression just seems weird to you is because it is. It doesn’t make a lot of sense in the situation and I hope I managed to convey that.
This comics is a prequel of my fanfic Serein! Which I hope I can get to updating in the next few days. You can find it here.
(There is no links because I’m on mobile, I’ll fix that when I’m on my computer)
Bye, hope to update sooner!
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cloudninetonine · 11 months
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A Player's Aid: Chapter 15
Fandom: Legend of Zelda, Linked Universe
A/N: Hey guys! Finally more APA :))) There's been slight editing to this chapter as it got too long so those memes I made are a little incorrect :')))
Warnings: Bad language, Talk of conflict, talking of fighting (both verbal and phsyical), mentions of past pain, Tears spoilers (Purah Pad)
Waking up the next morning had never felt so draining.
The muscles in your eyelids fought desperately to stay closed, eyes stinging from the sun’s light with a tiring red edging your sclera and dark bags hanging in a show of your exhausted expression. God, you were tired. Void of any energy, your body felt a mere husk in the light of the morning sun as you lazily glanced around the entirety of the area, gaze falling once again to the fire pit that had been moulded by the boys the day before.
The scene differed in this instance, the sleeping bodies that once surrounded those burning embers were now animated frames ambling about for their morning routines; packing for the oncoming journey that awaited you and others simply standing for the sake of standing, chatting amongst themselves while their residential cook got to work on breakfast.
God, the idea of walking for another ten hours only brought a sickening sensation to your gut, churning with an audible curdle that caught the attention of some closer to you.
Hyrule’s face broke out in relief as he crouched down just beside you, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek. “I feared you wouldn’t wake until late afternoon, how do you fare?”
Closing your eyes your body naturally sought the comfort the brunette could so easily give you. “I’m tired.”
The back of his palm pressed gently against your forehead. “Are you ill? You do not feel warm.”
“No, just tired, Rulie.” Just wanting to curl up in a ball, cover your head and hoping to stay in the comfort of your blanket and floppy sleep mat.
Nearly dying would do that to a person.
“The Champion is preparing something easy for your stomach.” Time had stepped a little closer, not yet decked out in his usual intimidating chestplate and chainmail skirt as he leaned down in a similar fashion to your impromptu nurse. “He expected possible ailment or fatigue- tell me, do you think you will be able to journey today?”
The look Hyrule sent the eldest was smouldering, bubbling hot anger with a side of daring. “You can clearly see, they are not.”
The blonde sighed. “They can speak for themself, traveller-”
“Oh? Is that right? Is that what they did when you thrust your little plan onto them?” Your eyebrows furrowed at those words, glancing between the two in a quizzical manner as you watched the hero practically spit pure spite. “Or did you even let them speak? Just assumed they would be so eager to please you and would sacrifice their life for the sake of your precious theory?”
Ah, now you got it. Understanding the weight behind his actions, you knew it would have taken Time a while to finally bring forward what he did. He was a noble man, one able to admit his faults and wrongs in the faces of the many, that was the vibe you got from him anyway- and you were right. It came soon, sooner than you had expected but here was the proof right before your very eyes.
A very angry Hyrule.
If you knew he was going to throw such burning words you would have told the eldest hero that it best this secret lay low.
“Traveller!” Twilight snapped, walking forward- Oh? Is that why you felt a little more lonely that morning? Such a shame, Wolfie was so comfy. “Watch your tongue!”
Hyrule’s head snapped back. “Just like you watched your own? You just love to lick your ancestor’s boots, don’t you, ranch-hand?”
The whole group gaped- Time included.
Oop. Gagged.
“So eager to please the man you let sleeping dogs lie?” Twilight flinched at that. “You make me sick. Both of you do.”
Tension rose from 0 to 100 real quick. The expressions on everyone’s face held similar tones of surprise and nerves at the aggressive growl that their usual passive and caring healer held. You didn’t like it, not one bit, you hated the very obvious disgust that Hyrule plastered on his face as he looked between two of the oldest heroes, his brothers. 
Glancing back at Wild, you expected him to react- nothing. The blonde continued to stir the cooking cauldron with a grouchy pinch to his lip.
Him too?
Legend’s words seemed to grow truer and truer with each passing day, at least to your eyes. You in no way wanted to cause a wedge between these men, this group of heroes who shared the same name and adopted an unyielding affection towards each other from the hardships that they all faced. You didn’t want to drive them apart, to drag any away from their beautiful bond just because of mistakes. A mistake. A stupid mistake made by a man who held the weight of the world on his shoulders.
You refused to be the person that Legend so strongly believed you to be.
“Watch your mouth, Link.” Hyrule paused, turning back to look at your hardened expression- you didn’t want to be rude to the man, you had come to care about him so, but if it was your job to put him in his place then so be it. “You have every right to be upset but you shouldn’t say such horrible things to your friends.”
Time seemed surprised; Twilight looked surprised; Hyrule was surprised.
“Everything turned out okay.” God, would they stop staring at you? You hated being acknowledged. “He needed to know something important and he got his answer. Yeah, it was a stupid and shitty thing to do but for the sake of literally billions of people I would let him do it a hundred times if it meant it had you guys one step closer to defeating the Shadow.”
Silence.
“...Are you listening to yourself?” He asked, not venomous but certainly not kindly. “You could have died, (Name). Died because of his selfish little want-”
“It’s not selfish if he was thinking about the well-being of others-”
“Stop defending him!” You jumped a little at his voice, blinking wide with a look of surprise burned into your features at his own panicked eyes. “Stop. Stop putting yourself below others like you’re some insect in the mud, you are better than that-”
“You don’t fucking know me!”
The yell echoed through the air, sharp as it sliced the tension similar to a butcher knife with fresh meat, the others around the camp turning all eyes on you as you pushed your body up, your finger pointed right in the face of the traveller. Gaze burning, slightly wet with tears as trembling emotions swam through your bloodstream with repressed memories gnawing at the back of your mind.
“You don’t know where I come from, you don’t know who my family are, nor my friends or who the hell I even am!” The scream from yesterday had torn at your throat leaving an uncomfortable hoarse feeling as you yelled, voice cracking from the strain. “Don’t speak like you fucking know me, Link! You bloody well don’t! For all you know, I could have deserved to die on that day!”
Everyone flinched; Sky stepped forward.
“Now isn’t that going a little too far-”
“Shut up, Sky!”
He fell back, sharing a look with Four at your yell.
Turning back to Hyrule’s expression you almost faltered. He looked like a kicked puppy, face fallen, eyes wide with hurt and confusion with his hands up in surrender- he didn’t want this and neither did you, but hey, maybe this would get Legend to back off if Hyrule decided to avoid you after this. “Don’t you ever assume my character. You don’t know it, we met a week ago for fuck's sake! Do yourself a fucking solid and don’t ruin your damn relationships over this damn burden.”
With not much room for an exit, you collapsed back into your bedroll and dragged the blanket over your head, blocking out the view of them all in an effort to hide your wobbling lip and misty eyes. You hated confrontation, you hated making people upset, and seeing Hyrule look so broken over your yelling only made you feel like dog shit. How could you talk to your hero like that? Such a kind, humble man who only wanted what was best for you?
Here you were, acting so childish because he cared.
You turned your back to him, not that it mattered being covered by the comforter, but you needed to hide yourself even further and to you, this was the only way how.
Hide. Hide like the coward you were.
There was movement- the sound of footsteps in grass and the gentle call of one of the boys, the concerning, soft “traveller-” only squeezing at your heart, tears running down your cheeks at the thought of Hyrule wandering away.
There was more movement, more talking but you didn’t budge. You stayed there, curled into a ball with your mind only focused on the feeling of melancholy as those things happened around you. Even when Hyrule returned, even when Wild shook you gently to eat breakfast and when a group of footsteps collectively began to move back towards the castle, a lessening silence hanging over you and another soul hovering around the camp. Curled, still silently crying.
----------
“They didn’t mean that.”
The traveller’s head lifted slowly, glancing over to the Hero of the Wild with eyes still dim as the Champion kept his slacking pace, the others near yards ahead.
“You don’t know that.” The ache in his chest still present, the brunette kept his gaze to the dirt of the castle path. “The emotion in their voice was very heavy.”
The blonde spared him a sympathetic glance. “A lot has happened to them these past few days- I don’t think they meant the malicious tones.”
“...”
To see such raw emotion directed towards the fairy boy certainly wasn’t something fun. Hard on his heart, it weighed down all the way to the dark pit of his stomach as your words from that morning replayed in his head like a broken record. 
“You don’t even know me!”
It was a harsh hiss echoing through his head with every step. Every lasting memory in his mind taunting him as he thought about that guiding light back then. 
So bright, so mirthful and so wise- you followed him everywhere in the place of his courageous heart, motivating him at every turn. You helped him through puzzles, you sang his praises through every battle and tended to his wounds in the evening glow by the dancing fire while telling tales of old- you knew of the old hero too, his predecessor and even his predecessor’s predecessor. You had been with him for more than just those two journeys, no, you had been there for him for lifetimes.
And now here you were. Still bright, still mirthful and still wise- but your mind fogged at the mention of your honoured title. To you, you were not his guide, held so highly in the light of his eyes, but the burden cast upon the shoulders of the heroes, on top of the already heavy duty of protecting Hyrule.
“We don’t really know them…do we?” Hyrule’s voice was small, hesitant to speak the words. “We know a version of them that has seemed to be lost to time but-....is that really them, back there? Our Guide?”
Hyrule had doubted in those past few days, of course he had. You may have had their voice but that did not mean you were his guide- maybe he had been mistaken that day? Caught up in the shadows of sweet memories hearing the kindness and care that honeyed your words. Did he really know you?
“...I don’t know.” Wild’s eyes stared ahead, focused on the backs of the many other heroes. “But I do know this- they care for us, just like our guide did.”
The brunette glanced over, a feeling washing over him at the light that sparkled in the reflection of the blonde’s eyes- glowing in the sun, they resembled the beauty of a blue sapphire as he continued.
“It’s all I can see. In their eyes, in their actions and in their words, I don’t remember the last time I had ever seen such an emotion after finally waking from my century of sleep- handled with such softness.” He sighed, blissful, “And I know they don’t remember, I know they may not even be who I long for- but still, they feel the same. They feel like home. Like a bed after a hard day's work and I feel safe, brother.”
…Hyrule knew that feeling. He knew exactly what he was talking about. The traveller felt the same around you, felt that long awaited sense of comfort and stability that came with your mere presence. It was why your words felt like a dagger in his chest, your anger sharper than any blade that scathed his skin.
“Those nights ago, when I said it hurt that (Name) did not remember, I meant those words but- not as much as I expected. I am a new man, one born from our time together and from being with all of you. I want them to experience the new me and I want to experience the new them- make new memories.”
Hyrule wanted that too- he wanted you to know the new him. Know how your influence had changed him for the better.
Wild’s hand came to rest on his shoulder and Hyrule shared a look with him, understanding. “...I pushed them a little, didn’t I?”
“You were upset but yes, I believe so.”
Hyrule released a wet laugh, rubbing at his eyes. “I will apologise once we return.”
“Good plan, brother of mine.”
----------
“Are you going to stay underneath this blanket for the rest of the day?”
The glow of Gilda’s magic was calming, a forest green that hummed with the magic of old as she laid comfortably against your chest. She had joined you a little after the boys had left, fighting her way underneath the heavy fabric of your duvet to see your face still wet with tears after your ‘confrontation’ earlier that day. The fairy did not press you, only stayed a quiet presence- well, until now.
“Yeah maybe,” you croaked, sniffling slightly, “maybe I’ll just stay here and die like I deserve.”
The fairy’s wings fluttered gently, “don’t say stuff like that.”
“I shouted at Hyrule-”
“My brother will not collapse over some words said in anger.” You looked down at her as she shifted, her eyes catching yours through the soft glow of her magic. “Even if you were the person to say it- my brother has gone through worse hardships than being yelled at.”
You felt tears once again grow in your eyes. “But I was still so rude and he was just trying- he-”
Gilda shushed you gently, crawling up to your cheek and wiping at your eyes gently while you whimpered. “Oh Guide, the legends were true about your bleeding heart, it seems.”
You blinked in confusion, voice wobbly with confusion. “Legends-”
“(Name)? Are you okay?” Sky’s voice caught your attention, muffled by the comforter around your head. “....do you want to talk about it?”
No. No you did not, but you didn’t seem to have much of a choice when Gilda quickly flew up and dragged the blanket off your face to reveal to the Skyloftian knight the internal conflict that currently raged in your own head. A dirty trick by the dancing green wisp, your hand swiped to grab her but she had already zipped away to Epona and hid in the strands of her beautiful platinum blonde mane.
Bitch.
“...I’m fine.” A sight to behold, a mess of snot and tears as you laid in your bedroll, “I don’t need to talk.”
Sky paused before readjusting himself, the piece of wood he had been gently carving settled onto his lap along with his carving knife. “....do you need to eat?”
You glanced over.
“Sometimes when I’m upset I just need to fill up my stomach- pumpkin soup usually does the trick.”
“...are you asking me if I’m hangry, Link?”
“....I think?” He shrugged his shoulders, gesturing with his head towards the cauldron of food that Wild had left. “Would you like me to make you a bowl?”
You laid there for another moment, considering your options for just a few passing seconds before finally pushing your body up into a seated position with a small nod. “Yes please.”
It was…awkward. The man stayed quiet through the whole ordeal, just spooning some simple morning porridge into a bowl and handing it over to your awaiting hands. You thanked him quietly, sitting back with your eyes focused on the soft meal so as to not catch his gaze, as you could feel his stare still focused on your hunched figure.
You knew you couldn’t just wallow in this self-pity for the rest of the day, but it felt like the only familiarity to you after being away from home for so long. It was like greeting an old toxic friend after a ghostly parting, you couldn’t quite dismiss them but you did not want to welcome them in any shape or form. However, after already so long, the rest of the Chain now away in that castle of darkness and pain- you knew you couldn’t run from your own actions forever.
You started off slow. “I’m sorry.”
Sky hummed but you still refused to look his way. “For what I said earlier- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
“That’s alright-”
“No, no it’s not alright.” You raised your head, you couldn’t hide from this. “I didn’t want to be interrupted but it was still wrong of me to tell you to shut up, I’m sorry for how I said it.”
“But not what you said?”
“....I needed to finish what I was saying earlier….I didn’t want to, but it had to come out before it became something worse than it was.”
The knife against the wooden carving gently chiselled further along its surface, a shape being moulded from the small piece of timber the further along Sky worked. It was interesting to see him actually craft, in Skyward Sword it was only ever hinted that the man liked to do such hobbies, and never in your life would you think you would be able to see Link himself actually whittle right in front of you.
“...what are you making?”
“A remlit,” looking closer, you could see the two giant ears to the cat-like creature in full. “An animal from my era- they’re quite sweet usually but in the night they would become temperamental.”
“...” You knew that a little too well, dodging too many attacks from those little shits while trying complete missions on the mainland of Skyloft. 
“My instructor, Mr Horwell, he used to say that the reason they would get temperamental was because they would bottle up every negative emotion in the day and let it out during the night- as everyone slept they would rage, and whoever would come across them would deal with the consequences..” You watched another wooden flake fall onto his lap as he carefully sculpted the face. “But they were kind creatures, purring and pawing the next day with love in their eyes. They never did want to cause harm, but sometimes it’s just inevitable. That did not mean they were cruel creatures- they were still worthy of love.”
“...ah.” You weren’t quite sure what to say. You knew where the knight was coming from, you could decipher the metaphor he so smoothly hid under the words of his old instructor and felt appreciation for his subtle attempt to make you feel better- everyone had bad days, sometimes the wrong people could be hurt from them but that did not mean you were a bad person. You could fix what you had damaged. “....thank you, Link.”
His smile was cute, lips upturning with ocean blue eyes warm with a beautiful kindness. “For what? I was just repeating the words of an old professor, that’s all.”
You huffed a laugh, “yeah, sure.”
Sky brought the remlit carving to his lips and gently blew at the statue, ridding it of any remaining shavings before gently grabbing your hand and placing the figure in your palm. “Please, have it. I have many more back in my own home.”
“Oh you don’t have to-”
“I insist.”
After a moment’s hesitation you carefully brought it up higher to inspect the beautiful detail that Sky had put into the carving.
…you needed to apologise to Hyrule.
-----------  
“Well, that was uneventful.”
“You could say that again.” Wind moaned, trudging behind Warriors’ form with a disgruntled look on his face. “The Shadow couldn’t even bother to stay? We just trekked over a whole fucking castle for nothing!”
“Language, sailor.” The captain’s quip wasn’t as fast as usual, a tired drip to his tone yet his disappointment did not yield. “What have I told you about your unnecessary curses?”
The young boy’s mouth opened, his eyes swirling with a devious intent only for his lips to slam shut at the look that the eldest of the group sent him. “Be calm, sailor, I don’t think now is the time.”
Wind deflated and that was that from him.
The castle search was deemed tedious- it was empty. Every corner of the palace swept proved  vacant, only the webbing of the hulking arachnids left behind, with the few remains of the usual skulltula drops that they only strayed away from- the men were overflowing in materials and a mere monster claw here and there wasn’t the biggest of discoveries that they cared to deal with.
So, after a few hours of wandering, investigating, and turning up seemingly more empty-handed compared to how they were when they entered- the boys left. It wasn’t that late when they had, mid afternoon with the sun still fairly high in the baby blue sky, puffy clouds dotting the expanse of colour with a calming silence as they continued to trek the dirt path leading up the famous Hyrule Castle.
Hyrule’s fingers unconsciously fiddled with the material of his vambrace, nails scratching against the old, weathered leather with the tips of his fingers pressing against the seams. The nerves were stronger now, thoughts of returning to the camp causing uncomfortable palpitations that almost mimicked sharp talons digging into the beating muscle with a cruel vigour that only seemed to make the panicked beating worse-
“Traveller.” Wild’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, “it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”
Hyrule ignored his reassurance. “Do you think they’re still upset?”
“Brother-”
“I don’t know how I’ll be able to resolve this- what could I even say?” Had he not already been walking the brunette would have been violently pacing, his footprints making dents in the dirt. “I know I need to apologise for pushing but what could I possibly say-”
“Link.” Tightening his grip, Wild tugged the man back before he could push himself into a dead sprint- he was always a good runner. “You won’t know until you face them- let’s not get in over our own heads, aye?”
However, Wild was never really good at comforting others and by Hylia did he feel awkward in his attempt.
Hyrule bit nervously at his nails, pupils shrinking at the sight of the camp growing bigger and bigger, along with your hunkered figure beside the Skyloftian Knight with an easier expression compared to that morning. Ah, his heart seemed to relax at that, maybe this would be easier?
Your eyes turned to him and suddenly he felt like that little 10-year-old on his way to face the incarnation of Evil in his dungeon of destruction and darkness.
You weren’t Ganon, of course you weren’t but the shadowing feelings of insecurity and doubt made him want to run like you were.
The two of you stood to greet them all, Sky moving to talk to Time as the eldest moved closer but you pretty much rushed past them all, not bothering to glance at the others as your eyes stayed focused on the brunette and blonde duo with a cocktail of emotions swirling in your gaze. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at, unable to decipher the intentions behind them, when you had finally stopped just a few paces before them, awkward but not backing down.
“....Can we talk for a few minutes?” You glanced between them, “Both of you? I think there’s something we need to talk about.”
You left no room for argument as you quickly grabbed their hands and began to drag them away. The many others turned to look at your trio quizzically as you rushed off into the haze of trees surrounding your camp, wandering a distance further enough so the others wouldn’t hear your talk as you finally turned to the boys, standing there awkwardly with a look similar to constipation as you tried to figure yourself out.
Moments of silence passed.
You finally opened your mouth-
“I’m sorry-”
“No.”
Hyrule blinked, glancing to Wild who shrugged in confusion as you cleared your throat, fidgeting nervously on the spot, your hand dived into your pocket to toy with the small remlit. “No, I’m sorry- you shouldn’t say sorry. Well, not to me maybe Time, and Twilight- but that’s not the topic of the moment. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for snapping at you, I’m also sorry for the fact I probably look like I’m ready to pass a kidney stone- leave the questions till after Wild- I find it hard to apologise about things that present themselves as moral dilemmas. I feel like I was right about what I said but the way I said it wasn’t right- which leads me to saying this.”
Grasping their hands, you brought them together in an action of care, thumbs gently running over the skin of the back of their hands. Hyrule’s was softer compared to Wild’s, the champion’s skin marred with burns from those guardians that long century ago- you brushed it with care.
“I….I don’t remember.” The weight on your shoulders seemed to lessen, but you weren’t quite there yet; you continued. “I don’t remember a thing about being the guide. I don’t remember your journeys, I don’t remember the stories you talk about and I just don’t remember being your guide. I’m not sure if it’s some mental block from being from another world, or my memories were taken after finishing your games- hell, I don’t even know if I am the guide. I know you guys seem so sure but if I was someone this important I’d remember, right? I don’t know, I just- just-”
Your head was cast downwards during this talk, a mixture of shame and fear climbing up the expanse of your spine as your throat seemed to tighten with each word. You rambled, you were a rambler and you couldn’t help it- you needed to explain and you just couldn’t stop: the truth, your own feelings, your own doubts, your own fears and so much more. In your mind you had been tricking these men, deceiving them, living a life of lies that you let them crown you with like it was a veil of honour instead of what it really was- a mistake. They were mistaken. You were probably mistaken and if you were the person they had spoken so highly of all this time then you would finally spill the beans.
Looking at their face, you couldn’t fight back the tears. “I don’t want to trick you guys. I don’t want this to come back and bite me- a little selfish but the truth. I don’t want you guys to mistake some rando to be this highly respected entity. Maybe I am somehow related to this person in some weird soul link but I will no longer let you believe a lie that would only serve to harm both you and me.”
Gasping for breath, you hiccuped. “Please. Please forgive me for not saying anything earlier I-”
Wild’s hand moved gently, taking his scarred appendage from your grip to gently hold your cheek, catching your eyes with his own. “We know.”
A few seconds passed, you blinked as you managed to whisper a cracked, “...what?”
“We know you don’t remember.” Hyrule’s face filled with guilt, eyes shining with regret as he continued. “We’ve known for quite some time- we just didn’t want to place that weight over your shoulders.”
“But it seems we did so anyway.” A single tear that fell was gently brushed away by Wild’s thumb. “Forgive us.”
You hiccuped once again, “but- but why didn’t you say anything-”
“We thought maybe with time you would remember- with your name, your presence and your affiliation with magic, it never really crossed our mind that maybe you aren’t them. So, we decided to wait for the memories to come in.” Wild looked pained, “to force important memories would not be good for your health, (Name), trust me I know what that can do to one’s mind.”
More tears and more sobs, your body shook with the exhaustion of the emotional turmoil that once hung heavy on your shoulders, now free from the strain and feeling lighter than they had for days. Carrying guilt like this was always a burden, breaking you down day by day, hour by hour and minute by minute. You were never one to easily carry lies like they were leaves in your pocket- they felt more like a tiger stalking an antelope, following and following until one day they would strike.
Being pulled into the arms of the heroes was solace, collapsing into their warmth, still crying from the whirlwind as they held you protectively in their grip.
“I’m sorry, (Name).” Hyrule’s voice was heavy with emotion as he spoke, “I would have never said those things if I knew you felt that way, I-”
You tightened your grip, “it’s okay, Link-”
“No no it’s not and you don’t need to think it is.” When the brunette pulled back his face seemed soft but his eyes burned with a passion that was almost too bright, “However, I will stand by what I said- whether you are our Guide or not you are just as important as the rest of us. I will not have you be any kind of bait ever again, nor will you come close to death for as long as I live.”
When your eyes met his, you almost melted at the affection. “I would rather give my life than let you ever step on death’s doorstep…okay?”
“....Okay- but-”
Wild groaned, “dear goddesses, you're as stubborn as a mule.”
You pressed a finger to his lips, smiling when his eyes crossed to see it. “Shush pretty boy- this goes for you too. Anyway, I also want you to apologise to Twilight and Time for how you acted- not what you said. I know why you said it, don’t get me wrong, but as I said earlier, you’ve known these men longer than you have me, you’ve got a brotherhood with them and the way you spoke to them earlier was not okay.”
Hyrule huffed, “They needed to hear it.”
“Time did and he had, from both me and Twilight, but the rancher didn’t deserve that- he was just defending his old man,” you joked, gently booping Hyrule’s nose. “So, if you’re dishing apologies make sure to plate those two as well- okay fairy boy?”
Ears flickered happily at the name while his face was downturned, red seeping into his cheeks as the traveller tried to avoid your warm expression. “Okay.”
Glancing to Wild, you raised a brow. “Well?”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Knowing you, you probably poured bugs into their sleeping bags!”
“No- that’s something the sailor would do, but I-”
“Oh, shut up.”
Tugging the two boys close once again the three of you shared lighter laughs, the tension that once hung heavy now gone within a moment as you joked mirthfully in spite of the earlier stress. You were grateful for the break, needing a moment away from the horrors of reality and trauma from earlier days that you knew unfortunately lurked in the depths of your mind, waiting for the worst moment to pounce.
However, right here, right now, you didn’t have to worry.
“Let’s rejoin the others- you both need to apologise.”
Both groaned, but did not fight your insistence as you tugged them back.
----------
An awkward apology at the least- Hyrule was able to manage the words, his usual kinder nature allowing him to offer both the old man and his descendant with only the most subtle hint of hesitance while Wild stewed in his defiance, kicking at the dirt with a harrowing sigh. The blonde only really broke when you sent a glare across the camp, eyes narrowed with a scowl that grew with disappointment every passing second until finally he managed to grunt a “sorry” that you knew wasn’t quite true but you let him off when the two older men seemed to accept it.
Silence rang out.
“Can we have dinner- I’m dying over here!” But thanks to the sailor’s flapping mouth, in the next half hour plates were served with steaming dishes of herbs, spices and the usual dinnertime chatter made sure to pave the way for a much calmer evening.
Sat between Hyrule and Wild, you felt more at peace compared to the last day and a half, spooning the contents of the champion’s amazing cooking into your mouth as you watched everyone converse. Wind joked with Warriors, the young sailor throwing playful jabs at the older captain while next to him Legend and Four were idly chatting. Twilight and Time seemed more interested in their food similar to you as Wild and Hyrule discussed in unwanted detail the scarring that marred Wild’s left side with Sky’s disturbed look not even hidden as he stared at the two with a disgruntled look.
Quiet, you raised the spoon closer to your face, more aware of yourself than you had been for a long while when you finally noticed, your hand gloveless- the yellow of the Sheikah eye.
Yellow?
Since when?
Pulling back the appendage, you studied it in confusion. The veins that ran up your arm had a similar tint, having changed from the luminous blue that had once decorated your skin into the sunshine yellow. How had you not noticed this? When did this happen? But then again, running for your life in the palace was probably more important than studying yourself in a mirror.
Glancing over to your side you caught the glimmer of Hyrule’s sword, shimmering in the light of the evening sun. Without hesitation you grabbed it, being careful with the beautifully crafted blade as you slightly pulled it from its sheath and stared at the reflection of the polished steel-
Your eye also glowed in a similar way, with only a single ring of Sheikah blue surrounding your iris.
“What the fuck…” You breathed, pulling at the skin under your eye to get a better look. “....looks like fucking piss. Piss eye.”
Piss eye.
Thank fuck your friends weren’t here- you couldn’t deal with hearing that for however long this new development stayed.
“Huh?” Sky seemed to zone in on you, looking at you with the same odd expression on his face he had already been wearing. “Are you okay, (Name)?”
Hyrule and Wild’s conversation stopped instantly, glancing over to you along with a few others- you weren’t exactly paying attention to them, still looking in the reflection of the sword.
“My eye is yellow-” Hyrule’s speed was almost comical as he leapt to his feet, grasping your face to study your current predicament.
“Does it hurt?”
“No-”
“Are you sure?”
“Hyrule, I’m alright.” You laughed, pushing his hands away. “Don’t panic yourself because then I will panic and I think I’ve had enough of that recently.”
Wild’s hand gently ran over the skin of the glow, studying the mark closely as the yellow reflected off the skyline blue of his eyes. “Reminds me of Stasis on the slate.”
“That thing you used to freeze the Shadow?” Wind hopped over to poke at the sigil. “Would be pretty useful if they could use it, huh?”
Four looked sceptical. “And how would that work, sailor?”
“Well, uh-”
“I did use it.”
Another silence hung over the camp when the words had left you, Hyrule stopped, Wild stopped, all eyes were on you as scenes from the other day played in your head. Yes, yes you had used the Stasis, you remembered how the yellow chains jingled and how the Shadow raged ferally in his imprisonment, those manic red eyes glaring down at you like a rabid dog ready to pounce-
You swallowed the anxiety building up in your throat, hands suddenly shaking in your lap as you blinked away fearful tears. “I- I used it on the Shadow- I- I stasised him when he was going to kill me-”
You let out a shaky breath.
Were the trees suddenly closer? Was it getting darker around you guys? But the evening had only just begun, it wasn’t supposed to be dark yet- no, the darkness was moving. Oh God, was Dink here? Was he coming to get you? Were you about to die?
Blood pumped in your ears viciously, drowning out the earlier noise as you frantically glanced around for any sign of the monster that lurked in the shadows, waiting to pull that dark sword of his and finally slice your neck-
“Hey!” You managed only a small yelp when Wind shook your shoulders, the world falling back into view as you caught ocean blue eyes staring back at you. “It's not here, okay?”
“Wha- what-”
“The Shadow isn’t here.” Hyrule moved back into view as Wind finally released you, looking concerned along with the rest of the group- minus Legend, the man just looked unimpressed. “....it must have been pretty scary if mentioning it made you this upset.”
You looked down.
“...I’m not used to running for my life.”
The animals of Hyrule chittered.
“Let’s see it in action then.”
You made a sound of confusion only to tense up at the sight of an apple heading right towards you. Muscle memory kicked in, all those PE sessions of tennis balls, cricket balls, shuttlecocks and more flying towards you at a speed that seemed more mach 2 than anything causing you to ball up with your arms flying to protect your face. A squeak of slight fear left your mouth as you braced for impact.
Waiting.
Waiting.
And waiting.
“Vet! What is your problem!?”
Peeking open an eye, you saw a hand reached out, the fruit that had been previously hurled towards you secured in its grasp as the champion stood taller with a look of rage plastered on his face- you could practically hear the apple cracking under the pressure of Wild’s seething grip.
“What?” Legend shrugged, leaning back. “If it appeared when they felt in danger it was really the only logical option.”
Twilight stood when Wild growled. “Champion, step back.”
“If he wants a fight I’ll give him one-”
Legend grinned snidely, also standing. “I’d like to see you try, cook.”
More people were standing and the tension quickly jumped to dangerous levels, heat growing on your face from the sudden nerves as you also hopped to your feet, rushing to grab Wild’s shoulder and yank him back.
“Let’s not!” You yelped, tightening your grasp when Wild tried to shrug you off. “I don’t need to be defended! Walk away!”
“I-”
“I suggest you listen, Champion.” Time looked furthest from pleased, his scarred eye opening to reveal the milky white that encompassed the whole of the organ. “Walk away, there will be no fighting in this group.”
Tension threatened to bubble out of the pot, bursting into a horrid brawl that would only serve to pull the boys away further than they already had from one another. Legend was a prick, that was your impression of him at least, but you also knew that he wasn’t always a prick from the friendships he had formed with each one of these men. If they were willing to defend him as they did each other then you didn’t want to cause more unnecessary drama, you may not have liked him in this moment but that did not mean you were about to have people fight him just because he was a dickhead.
Wild scowled. "He started this-"
"And I'm ending it." Time stepped closer. "I will see to it that he doesn't do it again, go cool yourself down."
Wild stood for a few more moments, still glaring at Legend who glared right back before taking a deep breath and turning his back towards his friend- out of sight, out of mind. You smiled at him encouragingly, feeling proud when he managed a smile back-
"I guess the ranch-hand isn't the only obedient mutt."
It felt like slow motion. Time turned with an angered look, lips pulling back to scold the veteran with Wild spinning in a similar raged way, eyes narrowed. Twilight also seemed to be disturbed by the words, all around the boys looked both surprised and unnerved by the veteran’s cold hiss. Even the man himself looked slightly surprised by his own words, a flash of regret reflecting in his eyes-
Just before your fist made contact with his cheek.
Not much was said amongst the crowd, only a shared look of shock as he stumbled a few steps, red quickly blooming on his cheek while you ground your teeth together in a burning fury, hissing.
“Watch your fucking mouth!”
He didn’t even give you a second before he shook it off, everyone frozen as he stopped his stagger and spun back around to deliver a similar blow right to your own cheek, the surprising force behind his fist strong enough to send you back on your arse with a pained flinch.
Silence once again gathered around you all.
Wind blinked, “Damn.”
And suddenly they all kicked into gear.
The shouting was loud as your world spun, the burning sensation on your cheek from Legend’s punch dulling the throb of your knuckles from your own attack as you tried to differentiate up from down. You could see bodies moving rapidly but you couldn’t quite focus on what was happening, even as you were quickly tugged to your feet and heard a voice right by your ear that you couldn’t quite focus on. 
Fuck, that was embarassing.
You had been downed so easily by a man shorter than yourself- but honestly, what had you expected with punching an experienced hero?
“I have had enough of this!” Time’s voice was very distinct, much deeper compared to the others with a growl that could freeze armies upon hearing the rage in his tone. “Acting like brats at a time like this!? You are not children, I will not have you fighting as such and the mere fact that I have already had the need to repeat myself, multiple times, about this is ridiculous!”
You blinked, finally focusing in- Legend had been grabbed and restrained by Warriors, the anger still evident but overshadowed by shame while Twilight held back a near frothing Wild, Hyrule in a similar position with Time, huffing as he stared down the veteran with burning eyes. Taking in your surroundings you noticed you had also been restrained, glancing back to see Sky with his brows furrowed and lip upturned as he watched the scene- your eyes making contact made you shrink in guilt.
‘....That had been an over reaction.’ He hadn’t even said that to you but why would he even say that about his friends in the first place?
“Take a walk- all of you!” Time’s hand had moved to hold the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I cannot handle the sight of any of you!”
Legend roughly fought his way out of Warriors’ grip to stomp away, the captain very close behind him. Wild and Hyrule had similar reactions, stalking off in a different direction with Hyrule quickly grasping your wrist with a gentle touch once Sky had finally released you, pulling you away from the scene and disappearing into the surrounding wooded area as the complaints began to spill from their mouths.
So much for trying not to split the group.
----------
The next morning was quiet.
Way too quiet.
The guilt ate at your stomach from the silence, keeping your head focused on the food currently sitting on your plate to not see the obvious tension on everyone’s face. The sudden brawl (if you could even call that embarrassment a brawl) last night had left everything strained, a horrible stillness over everyone once you had returned with no more words exchanged except for nervous goodnights from those like Sky and Four- you really hadn’t meant to cause something like this but here you were it seemed.
Legend hadn’t glanced at you once which you were honestly more thankful for. Having an enraged glare on you after everything would have only made you feel worse, especially with the belief that you were the one to go overboard the evening prior. You really just weren’t in the mood to have his acknowledgment over your shoulders with everything else.
Getting ready was a little more eventful, quiet chattering amongst the men as they gathered all their belongings to stuff them away for travel. You stood away with Gilda sat on your shoulder, leaning against the side of Epona who playfully nipped at your hood, her huffs shaking the piece of fabric laid over your head- it wasn’t exactly raining but the clouds certainly did not look good in those dark shades of grey.
You wanted to help pack up but the fear of the men’s anger overshadowed your want to help, merely keeping your head down while waiting patiently until finally everyone had their things gathered and once again you were on the road.
The settlers had waved you off from a distance, some wishing good luck while others stayed silent as the view of Hyrule Castle got smaller and smaller the more you walked, following the path Eastward that held Hebra Peak just on the horizon. You had no real idea where exactly you were all headed but you prayed to the heavens that if you were to somehow end up walking towards the beauty that was Rito Village that you would have the chance to speak with the amazing musician, Kass.
Man, that would have been cool.
Your heart dropped a little when instead of following the path your group broke from the stone trail and began to tread the grassy plains of Hyrule Field, the visual of Central Tower an hour or so ahead.
Something looked off though, your eyes narrowing to catch the sight of small movement and splodges of brown that seemed to encase the entire thing, working its way down the tall, slim Sheikah device and disappearing behind the hills that laid before you.
Wind had slowed down to meet your pace.
“Ya know-” He started, seemingly nonchalantly, face folding with a familiar cheeky grin as he looked up at you. “That was a good punch.”
You blinked and from behind you Twilight let out a grunt. “Sailor, knock it off.”
“I’m just saying!” His hands flew out, showing he meant no harm. “Listen, the Vet ain’t got the same strength as the ranch-hand but he’s got the resolve of a hero and we don’t go down easy! You nearly knocked him on his arse!”
Taking a glance to the front of the group you could see Legend glance back with a scowl and quickly moved your gaze when you nearly locked eyes. “I just surprised him.”
“Nu-uh.” Wind’s arms crossed with an even more evil smirk. “If I talked shit all the time I would learn to expect to get fists thrown at me- actually, I already do-”
Warriors came to yank Wind’s head towards him, gloved hand moving to cover the boy’s loud mouth as he let out muffled cries of frustration and tried desperately to rip off the older man’s palm.
“Maybe we need to sew your mouth shut, pirate.” He raised an eyebrow towards the smaller blonde when you noticed his mouth moved- “You licking me will do nothing.”
You tried to hide your smile.
“I will say though- I think it’s high time we gave you a weapon.” Finally releasing the youngest hero the Captain clapped his hand on your shoulder, shaking off his spit covered hand behind him. “And we'll teach you how to fight- that first.”
Your heart dropped- fighting? Like going up against actual monsters? ….Had your heart just stopped?
Wild and Hyrule exchanged a look at your haunted expression. “Maybe we should give it a while-”
“Learning now would be best if (Name) will be joining us indefinitely.” Squeezing your shoulder gently, he finally released his hold. “I know for some who have not held a blade before it would be a daunting thing to achieve but you will be learning from the best, I assure you- and we will not throw you into conflict by your lonesome- uh.”
When his expression curdled into something awkward you couldn’t help the laugh, your hand coming to rest over your stomach as you belted out a belly laugh that only made your companions sweat- the sudden foreboding feeling now replaced with comical mirth at the sight of Warriors’ face.
“You look like you sucked on a fucking lemon! AHAHA-”
So the handsome man could fumble- that was good to know.
----------
Scaffolding. It had been scaffolding around Central Tower- tall and honestly intimidating as it encased the Sheikah construct while fellow Sheikah and Hylian folk seemed to….tear the build apart.
Huh?
Scurrying, they used unknown tools to yank and pull the contraption apart. While the tower’s platform still remained it would only take a few more working men for it to leave the once intricate monolith to an intimidatingly tall spike within the surface of Hyrule’s great field. How sad…and here you thought that maybe you’d be able to try climbing one to experience just what Wild had to go through each time you hauled his arse up those things.
You wouldn’t have lasted getting a foot off the ground- nevermind a 100 feet-
“‘scuse me!” You side-stepped carefully, watching some more tradies walk past with the massive dripstone that bore the Sheikah mark over their shoulders- casket style. “Thank you!”
You heard the subtle whispers of Sheikah craft, the eye flashing a soft blue before it fell silent once again as the men hauled the abnormal tech towards a reinforced wagon bearing two horses.
“What are these guys doing?”
Wild’s eyebrows pinched, “I’m not quite sure.”
The Chain shared similar quizzical expressions, unsure of what to say. It seemed none of them had heard of the news, nor did they understand what was happening, but that was no surprise really, after all Wind had told you not much had happened in those months they were stuck in Hateno. Sure, Wild would teleport them here and there for updates but they preferred to leave the younger man’s timeline’s business to him- and if he had no such idea as to what was going on then why would the rest?
You saw Time open his mouth-
“LINK!? IS THAT YOU DOWN THERE!?”
Boisterous yet far, the whole group glanced around at the mention of their name before finally glancing up at the tip top of the tower, noticing a small head of white hair leaned far off the monument. Their body leaned forward so only the tip of their toes touched the edge (a petrified looking Sheikah holding desperately onto their form) as they tried to get a closer look towards the blonde just by your side. 
Hold on…was that?
Wild placed a hand over the arch of his brows, squinting. “Is that you, Robbie?”
The mad scientist laughed, an old man's cackle that echoed around the surrounding field. “Perfect!! Just the hero I wanted to see!!”
After a few minutes of frantic running with Jerrin, his wife, following after, demanding he slowed down lest he died on this scaffolding from hell until finally he was with your group. Poor old Jerrin looked wiped, panting up a storm while still hunched over from her sprint down the not so safe looking staircase while Robbie greeted you all brightly.
Throwing you his famous pointed pose with a dazzling little smile.
…did you just hear a guitar riff?
“What are you doing here, Robbie?”
The scientist leapt back into a normal position, smile still plastered as a conversation brewed- you quickly tuned it out as you glanced around. Similar to most of the Champion’s land, rubble and ruin surrounded you in the form of crumbling stone. This was once a great structure, you could tell, intricate and great as it stood tall- a church? A baron’s home? A noble’s? The stone beneath your feet bloomed stray strands of grass as nature slowly swallowed this great building and returned the stone to its rightful place, the soil below.
“-you!” You yelped when something was thrust in your face, pressed lightly against your nose from the apparent height difference between you and Robbie as he addressed your figure. “What’s your name!?”
“(Name)!”
“Just who Purah described- come! I want to see about those marks of yours.” The old man began to waddle towards a tent in the far corner of the yard, feet fast despite his old stature before he turned towards you, still frozen in surprise. “Come on then!”
Ah, great- once again prodded by scientists.
----------
“An interesting find indeed.” Robbie’s eye was massive within the magnifying glass, staring right back into your own Sheikah infested pupil for proof for the mad theories his mind had conjured. What did he search for? You had no clue but you did know that if he snapped some weird contraption at you again you would start biting.
And you bit hard.
Some people knew that from experience.
“And you say that you actually stasised the monster, correct?” You leaned back when he leaned forward.
“That’s right.” Pressing a hand against the tool, you pushed the older man back into his seat in an effort to gain your personal space back, and in a victorious moment he finally caved. Placing down his instrument while he tapped his chin in interest and muttered some words you couldn’t quite catch before he turned away to scribble down something into a notepad behind him. 
A mirror just by your hand showed that the ghostly yellow had fully taken over, sclera finally enveloped with your pupil a more pastel in the sea of lemon gold. You wondered how odd you looked to passersby with the magic that swirled, you wondered if it was hard for the others to sleep with the bright horrid glow that came from your person- god you’d probably have to start covering that up.
“Got any ideas for us, Robbie?” Wild asked from the corner, sat with Hyrule and the three other eldest as they waited patiently for the scientist’s upcoming ramble.
“Well...” Building up an atmosphere was probably something this man seemed to love, jumping off his tall stool as he placed hands on his waist and waited patiently for everyone’s attention. The heroes, of course, grew intrigued by the silence, their curiosity singing as they all leaned in for the old man’s news.
Robbie’s hands moved up with his shrug. “I got nothing.”
Silence.
Warriors sighed. Twilight sighed. Time sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. “Is that it?”
“Your guess is as good as mine! I’m an alchemist- not a doctor!” Robbie grumbled, crossing his arms. “Sheikah magic has always been an odd magic, but this is unheard of! Taking refuge in someone’s eye- you’re better off to ask the goddesses how such a thing could occur!”
Another dead end- the roots of knowledge only decayed further and further in the soil of the unknown. The measly plant that you had dubbed your mind withered the longer you thought about how exactly you were supposed to get answers for this. Would Hylia be your best bet? Would she even answer? Gag, the thought of getting on your knees to pray only made your stomach churn from both the anxiety and the scenario- if she were to answer, how could your mind cope with the knowledge that such a higher being actually existed? And if she didn’t? Well then you’d just be a tart kneeling before a statue in another universe.
You’d rather shit in your hands and clap.
“I guess there is one thing we could try! Or maybe two.”
The Purah Pad was a tool that Robbie had created using the scrap of existing Sheikah tech and the ruins of Guardians strewn across the land. Similar to the Sheikah slate in a certain way, it didn’t carry as much power as Wild’s important tool but still allowed things like teleporting and communication between others- like him and Purah, of course. Nifty little device it was, quieter than the Sheikah slate as the magic whispered and twitched, voices of hundreds rather than thousands harmonised as Robbie slapped his hand against his desk to reach for it and lay it gently in your hands.
“So!” The old man watched you, “You feel anything?”
Your eyes stayed focused on it for a few moments, then you slowly shook your head. “Not really…it’s just…talking.”
“Hmmm….” Robbie held his chin, tapping a finger against his cheek before he clicked his finger. “Ah! Come now.”
You followed the scientist outside: first, like a shadow, Hyrule close to your side along with your second, Wild, following behind. The eldest trio didn’t look too sure as to what was about to happen, abandoning the tools within his workshop to the open world outside his tent as the small man led you over to the Sheikah stone that you had passed earlier.
“If the pad is too quiet, I’m sure the slate is the same- so why don’t we try something bigger.” Patting the vacant object, he grinned. “Go ahead and touch it.”
The remainder of the Chain, who had scattered to explore the small area or simply rest watched with an interest as you stared at the grey eye, void of magic. “It’s not even on.”
“And you currently have its magic flowing through your veins- something could happen, but only if you try.”
That was a good point- but what would happen if you did that? Schrodinger’s cat, both dead or alive until someone opened the box. Was the Sheikah stone the cat and you, the unfortunate soul to open the box? The one to see the ending result, no matter how pretty or ugly such a thing turned out to be- this wasn’t something you wanted. You remembered the screaming of the teleportation magic when Wild had teleported you to the tip of the Dueling Peaks, loud and irritating. Though it did not compare to the pain of that day back in Purah’s lab.
Your mind had blocked out those memories for your own good.
“You don’t have to do it.” Hyrule said quietly upon seeing your hesitation. “Don’t push yourself for our sakes- I’m sure we’ll know soon enough.”
Wild seconded that motion along with Twilight. Warriors gave you a friendly smile and Time nodded his head in a similar understanding. The man had learned it was not his place to push.
But…there were answers that you needed. Why did this mark now paint your skin? Why did its magic flow through your veins? So many questions with so little answers, the longer your eyes glared back into the mark of the Sheikah etched into the stone, you wondered if maybe you could finally understand.
When a hand came to hold your free one you paused, looking down to see Wind’s face. “I got ya in case anything weird happens.”
It took a moment before you were able to smile. “Thanks, little man.”
You ruffled his hair and he playfully smacked at your hands.
People around waited with bated breaths, the other tradesmen also stopped their relentless work to watch in interest as your hand hovered lightly over the rock’s smooth surface. 
Was this a remedy to the unknown or another deep dive into a world of pain? Back at Purah’s lab was certainly agonising, a brutal hit to your seemingly weak body as such a devastating power possessed you- would you really be reduced into a spasming mess on the floor once more? Your brain pounded in sync with the nervous churn of your stomach at the mere thought, hand shaking from strain. 
You would never really know until you tried, right? Many theorists risked their own lives for answers that lay just beyond your reach, but then again some even sacrificed others for their own self preservation. Were you the theorist or the sacrifice in this moment? Hell, were you even a thought to the people you stood amongst?
“...”
You pressed your hand against the stone.
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thankskenpenders · 1 year
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And now for something new
So, here's something I was never planning on doing, but I just couldn't shake the idea... Thanks Ken Penders is gaining a sister blog featuring an entirely different comic franchise!
Introducing... Thanks Steve Ditko, a blog where I read the Earth-616 Spider-Man comics, starting all the way back in the '60s! It's gonna be much more casual and less thorough than how I run things here on TKP, though, which I'll explain in a sec.
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If seeing me post weird bits from old Spider-Man comics sounds fun and you need no further info, then just head right on over to Thanks Steve Ditko. But for longtime TKP readers, I know you probably have questions...
Number one: Why?
Spider-Man's always been my favorite superhero, and with the Spider-Verse movies kicking ass and my excitement building for the new Insomniac game, I've been in a Spidey mood. Inevitably, a thought occurred to me: Maybe I should actually read the comics that everything else is built off of and see the wildly varying contributions of all the original creators, rather than filtering them through big budget adaptations. If I can power through One Piece and all these other manga with hundreds of chapters, it can't be that hard... right?
And, well, after a few issues I quickly realized that my options were to either clog up my other accounts with random Spider-Man panels for years, or to just make a side blog. And so the side blog was born.
Two: Will this blog replace Thanks Ken Penders?
NO!!!!!!!!!
Okay but prove it
To allow the two to exist side-by-side, Thanks Steve Ditko will have a different format than what Thanks Ken Penders developed. Rather than an in-depth guided tour that critically analyzes every story beat of every issue, TSD will just be a place for amusing panels and brief thoughts as I casually read the comics at my own pace.
If you've seen me make a few tweets about reading Spider-Man recently, I'm basically just moving that to a dedicated Tumblr. It's a place for me to dump these things so that it doesn't fill up my media tab on Twitter for the next decade. (You know, assuming Twitter is still around in a decade.) There will be many issues where I only post two panels that I thought were funny. There will be issues where I don't have anything to say at all. Maybe I'll reach a run that I just cannot get into, and I start skipping around more. Who knows!
This may sound similar to what I thought this blog would be before it blew up. Aside from the simple fact that there's already mountains of Spider-Man commentary out there and therefore less of a void for me to fill, one of the main steps I'll be taking to avoid repeating the past is not enabling an ask box on TSD. I do not need people to ask me to go into ten times more detail on everything. I do not need to write seven essay-length responses to questions about Spider-Man minutiae every day. I do not need a place for people to chide me for not covering certain scenes, issues, or ancillary series.
It also won't have any kind of update schedule. I'm trying to keep it very casual. I'm reading these comics at my own pace, and if I feel like sharing a moment or commenting on something while doing so? It goes there. That's it.
(On the subject of format changes, I'm also listing the issue, writer, and penciller in the body of every post. This is a thing I wish I'd done on TKP so that people didn't misattribute every weird Archie Sonic panel I post to Penders.)
Three: So when will TKP come back from hiatus? You said it'd come back after you finished SLARPG!
I don't know! Sorry. I have a couple things on the backburner right now for TKP, but I'm not sure when I'll get back to proper updates where I read more comics.
I wanted to bring TKP back this year, and that's still possible. The main hurdle is that I want to reread my own archive (again) as a refresher, which is, uh. A lot of posts. I've developed a high standard for myself on here, and I feel like I wouldn't be doing my job right if I forgot half the ongoing subplots and character arcs and didn't bring them up in my analysis. Especially when I'm discussing the work of an author as obsessed with continuity as Ian Flynn. Unfortunately, the nature of this blog means that every time I go on another long hiatus for Life Reasons I have even more comic continuity to catch up on than last time.
(This is a big part of why I'm making Thanks Steve Ditko an extremely casual blog instead of promising to become a Lore Expert on 60+ years of Marvel.)
Mostly I've just been very burnt out this year after having finally finished a video game that took almost eight years to make. I haven't really had the energy for any creative projects, including TKP. But I feel a little bit of a spark here with Spider-Man, so I'm chasing that feeling to try to get back into the swing of blogging about comics - no pun intended.
So, basically, bear with me on this as I start this low-energy side project. But hopefully folks will enjoy Thanks Steve Ditko as its own thing, too.
Look forward to goofy shit like this
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