your-local-simp-writers - Tumblr blog

[your-local-simp-writers]

Since request are open would it be to much to ask for a ghost x reader? Also since theirs two of you who runs the account who’s older? I get this might be a bit odd to answer lol but what’s y’all’s schedules like? Just to get a general idea of how much time you both spend writing, sorry if that sounds kinda rude 😅 I’m just really curious

Hello! 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 here, that's actually not a strange question at all—I'm older, to give you the main rundown. Regarding our schedules, we would rather to keep them largely confidential, but they can be described as hectic and full. If you haven't gotten to know who we are don't be shy here is our "༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻"

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Quiet Valor

Word Count: 431

Warnings: None

Ghost x Fem! Wife! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

After a grueling day of tactical operations and close calls, Ghost finally returned to the safe house. His mask, a symbol of stoicism, hid the weariness in his eyes, but you knew him better than anyone else. You could see past the facade to the man beneath.

Ghost’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way to the living room, where you sat curled up on the couch, a book in hand. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and in that instant, the mask wasn’t just a physical barrier—it was a symbol of the distance he often put between himself and the world.

But with you, he didn’t need the mask. You saw him, not just the soldier, but the man with hopes, fears, and dreams. The man who loved the sound of rain against the windowpanes and the quiet moments just before dawn.

As he sat down beside you, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. You set aside your book, turning to face him fully. You greeted him with a warm smile, the kind that always seemed to reach right into his soul. “Rough day love?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Ghost just nodded, the weight of the day’s events etched into the lines of his body. He was like a tightly coiled spring, wound up with tension and stress. “It was… intense,” he admitted, the words heavy with unspoken stories.

Without a word, you scooted closer, reaching up to gently tug at the edge of his mask. He didn’t stop you as you slowly lifted it, revealing the stubble-lined jaw and the faintest hint of a smile at your boldness.

“I think you need a bit of… distraction,” you said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Before he could respond, you launched into an exaggerated retelling of the neighbor’s cat’s latest escapade, complete with wild hand gestures and dramatic pauses. Ghost couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound muffled but genuine.

“And then,” you paused for effect, “the little furball actually—”  you paused, leaning in close, your breath tickling his ear. In a swift motion, you pressed your lips to his cheek, cutting off your own story. Ghost’s laughter broke free, a rare and heartwarming sound.

“You’re impossible,” he said, but the warmth in his voice told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

For the rest of the evening, you kept up your antics, each silly joke and surprise kiss peeling away the layers of his stress, revealing the man who could still find joy in the little things, thanks to you.

[your-local-simp-writers]

A Gift Beyond Measure

Word Count: 588

Warnings: None

Vil Schoenheit x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The Night Raven College was a place where magic was as common as the air we breathed, and today, it was charged with a different kind of enchantment. It was Vil Schoenheit’s birthday, and as his girlfriend, I wanted to make it unforgettable.

Vil, the epitome of grace and beauty, had captured my heart from our first encounter. Our relationship had begun as a tentative friendship, sparked by a shared interest in alchemy and a mutual respect for each other’s talents. Over time, our bond had deepened, and we found ourselves drawn together by more than just academic pursuits. Vil, with his impeccable standards and keen eye for beauty, had seen something in me that I hadn’t seen in myself, and under his subtle guidance, I had flourished.

I held in my hands a gift that symbolized the depth of my feelings for him.

The gift I had chosen for him was a reflection of our journey together—a handcrafted journal, its cover embossed with the emblem of Pomefiore and dyed in a deep blue that matched his dormitory’s colors. It was more than just a book; it was a repository for our memories and a promise of the many moments we had yet to share.

I approached Pomefiore Dormitory with a mixture of excitement and nerves. The gift, a small, exquisitely bound journal, was more than just a collection of pages; it was a canvas for our future together. Each empty page was an invitation to fill it with our dreams, our adventures, and our love.

Knocking gently on Vil’s door, I waited with bated breath. “Enter,” came his voice, a command that still sent shivers down my spine. I took a deep breath, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles on my dress. 

The room was a vision of sophistication, much like Vil himself. He sat at his vanity, his golden locks reflecting the soft light, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “Happy Birthday, my love,” I said, my voice filled with the tenderness I felt for him. 

He turned, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that made my heart flutter.His gaze softening. “What have you brought me?” he asked, a playful curiosity in his tone.

I handed him the gift, watching as he unwrapped it with the care of someone who understood the value of anticipation. “It’s a journal,” I said, “for us to fill with our thoughts, our dreams, and our story.”

Vil opened the journal, his eyes scanning the first page where I had written a note:

'To Vil, who teaches me that beauty isn’t just seen, but also felt and shared. May this journal be a canvas for the masterpiece we will create together. With all my love, (Y/N).

A smile, rare and breathtaking, spread across his face. “This is exquisite,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth that filled the room. “You know me well, my dear.”

We spent the afternoon in each other’s company, talking and laughing as we had in the early days of our friendship. The journal lay open between us, a silent witness to the love that had grown in the space between words.

As the day turned to evening, and the shadows grew long, I knew that this birthday would be etched in our memories, a day of simple joys and profound emotions. And as I left Vil to his thoughts, the journal in his hands, I carried with me the knowledge that the best gifts are those that speak from the heart.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Hi! are your request open? If so would you be willing to branch out to other anime or games to write about for x reader stories? Also do you have a masterlist? I would love to read both of your guys other work :D One story i would like to request if its ok is a "Kirishima x reader" from MHA, if not would it be ok for a small "Josuke x reader" from Jojo!

Hello! 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 here, me and 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒 are ecstatic that you all find our work enjoyable! Naturally, we welcome requests. As for the masterlist, we do not currently have one, but we are working on one for you all, so please keep an eye out! Relax, we'd be happy to write both! If you haven't gotten to know who we are don't be shy here is our "༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻"

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Unspoken Support

Word Count: 745

Warnings: None

Eijiro Kirishima x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The evening air was cool as it drifted through the slightly ajar window, carrying with it the faint sounds of life from the U.A. High campus. The dorms were alive with the chatter and laughter of students, but within the walls of room 1-H, a serene quietude prevailed, broken only by the occasional click of a component being set into place or the soft hum of a machine powering on.

My focus was absolute, my hands steady as I worked on the latest addition to my arsenal of support gadgets. The device, when completed, would be a testament to the power of my quirk, Echo Pulse, enhancing its range and clarity to new heights. It was more than just a project; it was a piece of me, an echo of my own determination and will.

I was in the middle of calibrating a new device when a knock echoed through my room. “It’s open,” I called out, not lifting my gaze from the intricate circuitry sprawled before me.

The door swung open, and Eijiro Kirishima stepped in, his presence immediately filling the room with an infectious energy. “Hey, (Y/N)! Still working on that new gadget?” he asked, his eyes scanning the myriad of components scattered across my desk. ”Are you working hard or hardly working?” he joked.

I couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. “A bit of both, I suppose,” I replied, setting aside my tools.  “It’s almost done. Just a few more adjustments.”

Kirishima approached, his curiosity piqued. “What does this one do?” he inquired, pointing to the device I was just working on.

“It’s an enhancement for my quirk. It amplifies the Echo Pulse so I can detect things further away and with more detail,” I explained, my hands never ceasing their movement.

“That’s awesome! You’re always coming up with cool stuff,” he praised, his admiration genuine.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. Kirishima had that effect on people, his unyielding positivity and encouragement were just part of who he was. “Thanks, Kirishima. That means a lot coming from you,” I said, finally looking up to meet his gaze.

“So, what brings you here, Kirishima?” 

He grinned, his sharp teeth catching the light. “I brought you something,” he said, revealing a basket filled with snacks. “I know you skip meals when you’re in the zone.”

I laughed, accepting the basket. “You’re too good to me, Kirishima. How did you even know I like these?” I was touched by his gesture, the care he had taken to gather everything I loved. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish look crossing his face. “I may have asked around,” he admitted.

We sat cross-legged on the floor, the basket between us, and began to indulge in the snacks. Between bites, our conversation flowed effortlessly, from the mundane to the profound. Kirishima spoke of his latest training with Bakugo, his words painting a vivid picture of their intense sessions.

“And then he said, ‘That’s not enough to break my unbreakable spirit!’ Can you believe that?” Kirishima recounted, his laughter echoing in the room.

A sudden burst of laughter from me cut him off, and he joined in, his own laughter deep and contagious. “Only Bakugo could come up with something like that,” I said, shaking my head in amusement. In that moment, surrounded by the fading light and the echo of our joy, I realized how much I cherished these simple exchanges, these quiet moments of connection.

As the evening wore on, we continued to talk, the basket slowly emptying. When Kirishima finally stood to leave, I handed him a box I had prepared, filled with his favorite protein bars.

“For all the times you’ve looked out for me,” I said, my heart swelling with gratitude.

He accepted the box with a wide smile, his eyes softening. “We’ve got each other’s backs, (Y/N). That’s what friends are for,” he replied, his voice steady and sure.

As he departed, I sat back against my bed, the remnants of our shared snacks a testament to the bond we had forged. In the quiet of my room, I realized that it was these moments, these echoes of friendship and support, that truly made us heroes in the making.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Allergic to Apples

Word Count: 465

Warnings: None

Epel Felmier x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Epel had noticed your absence from the breakfast table that morning. Curiosity piqued, he wandered the grounds until he spotted you, a serene figure lost in the pages of ancient tales. He watched you for a moment, admiring the way you found peace in the simple act of reading. It reminded him of the quiet moments back at his family’s orchard, where the only sounds were the rustling leaves and distant calls of harvesters.

He approached you with a hesitant smile, holding behind his back a surprise he had been perfecting for days. “I see you’ve found your own little paradise,” he remarked, gesturing to the garden around you.

You glanced up, your eyes reflecting the myriad hues of the garden. “Sometimes, the world is too loud,” you replied. “Here, the stories whisper.”

Epel’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Whispers can be powerful,” he began, revealing the glass of apple drink he had crafted, “I’ve brought a piece of my own story to share with you.” The drink was a beautiful concoction, a blend of apples from his family’s orchard, mixed with a hint of cinnamon and a touch of Night Raven College’s own magical essence. It was more than just a beverage; it was a piece of Epel’s heritage, a tribute to the land that had shaped him.

You accepted the drink, intrigued by the thought and care that went into its creation. As you took a sip, the rich flavors danced on your tongue, a symphony of sweetness and spice. But the delight was short-lived as the familiar tingle of an allergic reaction began to set in.

As you reached for your eppie pen, your hands trembling, Epel’s training kicked in. He supported you, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos. “You’re going to be fine,” he assured you, even as his own heart raced with fear. 

Epel’s expression shifted from pride to horror as he realized the gravity of the situation. “I didn’t think,” he said, his voice breaking. “I should have been more careful.” He picked you up and carried you to the nurses office.

In the nurse’s office, as you lay recovering, Epel was a whirlwind of emotions. Guilt, fear, and concern warred within him as he watched over you, his gaze never wavering. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated like a mantra. “This is all my fault.”

You managed a weak smile, your voice a soft whisper. “No, Epel. It’s not. I should have been more careful. I should have told you about my allergy.”

He took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle. “I’ll remember, from now on,” he vowed. “I’ll remember every little thing about you, so this never happens again.”

[your-local-simp-writers]

༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻

Hello! 

We’re the dynamic duo behind “𝕐our 𝕃ocal 𝕊imp 𝕎riters,” just a couple of friends who love to get lost in the world of stories and games. We’re here to share our passion for writing and all the geeky stuff we can’t get enough of.

♡ About Us ♡

I’m 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 and I’m all about gaming and art. You’ll often find me with a controller in one hand and a comic book in the other. My better half, the yin to my yang. She’s the partner in crime, the sweet melody to my wild riffs, and the one who brings a touch of grace to our shared tales of adventure and heart, 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒! She is the other half of this storytelling team. We both love creating stories that’ll make you feel like you’re right there with the characters.

♡ Our Writing ♡

We write what we love, and we love what we write. Our stories are inspired by our current fascinations—be it a game, a movie, or a manga. If it’s interesting and fascinating to us, it’s fair game for our writing.

Most of our stories are “x female reader” because that’s where we feel most at home. Occasionally, we’ll write “x gender-neutral reader” pieces for a bit of variety. However, we generally steer clear of “x male reader” or “OC x canon” stories. We want to create a space where female readers can see themselves in the worlds we love so much.

❤︎ 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 '𝓈 Interests: 

Gaming: I’m a huge fan of Kingdom Hearts, Batman Arkham games, Mortal Combat, Final Fantasy, Resident Evil, Doom 3, Phasmophobia, Five Nights At Freddy’s, Twisted Wonderland, Call of Duty, Halo 3 and 4, Sonic and Transformers. If it’s a game or relating to horror, chances are I love it.

Comics: Batman is my passion. I collect anything related to the Dark Knight, and my collection is my pride and joy.

Anime/Manga: I'm into One Piece, Princess TuTu, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Jujutsu Kaisen, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Kingdom Hearts, Sgt. Frog, Free!, HellSing, and a bunch more. I have also seen MHA, Fairy Tail, Dragon Ball, Soul Eater, Naruto, Castlevania, Diabolik Lovers and more.

Disney & Tim Burton: I’m a Disney kid at heart. My top 5 Disney movies are Treasure Planet, Cinderella 3, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, and The Princess and the Frog. And I’m all about Halloween and everything Tim Burton.

Music: I love RnB and Y2K music so much! However, you can usually find me listening to cutesy, cheesy love songs.

❤︎ 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒’𝓈 Interests: 

Gaming: I’m definitely not the biggest gamer around, but I do love to play Roblox, Fortnite, and Minecraft! Sometimes I’ll also dabble in some fall guys, FNAF or Poppy’s Playtime. On Roblox, I love to play pretty much anything but pvp games due to the fact that I’m not the best at them. Horror games are probably my favorite, even though I’m a chicken!

Anime/Manga: My favorites are definitely Fairy Tail, Jojo’s bizarre adventure, Naruto, and Demon slayer. I’ve also watched MHA, Danganronpa, Yona of the Dawn, Food wars, High Rise Invasion, Angels of death, and more!

Disney and Tim Burton: I’m definitely a Disney girl! I love all Disney Princess movies, both animated and live action. My top three not in any particular order would have to be Tangled, The Little Mermaid, and Princess and the Frog. For Tim Burton, my favorites are the classics, The nightmare before Christmas and Corpse bride. 

Books: I’m also a huge book girly! My favorite genre has to be fantasy/sci-fi. My favorite book series is The Lunar Chronicles, I definitely recommend it!

♡ Join the Fun ♡

This is an invitation to you, dear reader, to become a part of our narrative. Engage with us, inspire us, and let us inspire you.

So, come on in, get comfy, and let's share the joy of stories. The next chapter is always the best one, and it starts right here, with you and us. Requests are always welcome in the ask box! and even inquiries, should you have any!

With all the warmth in our hearts,

𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 & 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒

P.S: 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 drew the image, just so most people can get a idea of what we look like♡ AND THE G.M FIARY BOOK IS FOR FUN, for the pure shits and giggles TRUST

[your-local-simp-writers]

A Morning Ritual

Word Count: 421

Warnings: None

Soap x Fem! Wife! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The first light of dawn crept through the blinds, casting a serene glow over the quiet kitchen. You stood there, the warmth of your coffee cup seeping into your palms, lost in the tranquility of the morning. The world was still asleep, and in this rare moment of peace, you found solace.

The sound of footsteps approached, a familiar cadence that quickened your heartbeat. You didn’t need to look to know it was Soap, your husband, the man whose presence was both a comfort and an exhilaration. His arms encircled your waist, a secure fortress in the soft light, and you leaned back against his solid chest.

“Good morning, love,” Soap murmured, his voice a soothing balm. His breath tickled your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool air of the morning.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the stubble on his chin as he nuzzled into your hair, a gentle reminder of the man who faced danger every day yet always made it back to you.

Turning within his embrace, you looked up at him, his blue eyes reflecting the love and life you shared. His gaze held a promise, a silent vow that transcended words. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, and he leaned down to meet your lips.

The kiss was soft at first, a tender exploration that spoke of years of shared mornings just like this one. But as Soap’s hands moved to draw you closer, the kiss deepened, igniting a familiar fire between you. It was a dance as old as time, a rhythm you both knew by heart.

His lips moved against yours with a passion that belied the early hour, a kiss that was both a greeting and a farewell. It was a reminder of what waited for him at home, a reason to fight, to survive, to return.

As the kiss ended, you both lingered, foreheads pressed together, sharing breaths and the silent language of hearts intertwined. “I’ll be thinking of you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

“And I’ll be here, waiting,” you assured him, your hand lingering on his as he reluctantly pulled away.

With one last look, Soap picked up his gear, his figure silhouetted against the lightening sky. And as the door closed behind him, you knew that no matter where he went or what he faced, he carried your love with him, a shield against the uncertainties of the world.

[your-local-simp-writers]

First Kiss

Word Count: 408

Warnings: None

Vil Schoenheit x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm glow over the Pomefiore gardens. Vil, the housewarden known for his impeccable standards, walked beside you, his presence commanding yet comforting.

“Beauty, my dear, is not merely in the symmetry of one’s features,” Vil mused, his gaze lingering on a perfectly bloomed rose. “It’s in the poise, the walk, the talk… the entire essence of a person.”

You nodded, hanging onto every word. “And what if someone doesn’t see their own beauty?” you asked, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice.

Vil stopped, turning to you with a softness in his eyes that belied his usual stern demeanor. “Then it is our duty to help them see it, to guide them,” he replied, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “Like this rose, which knows not of its allure, yet captivates all who gaze upon it.”

Your heart fluttered at the gesture, and you found the courage to meet his gaze. “And how would you guide me?” The question was out before you could stop it, but Vil didn’t seem to mind.

“With patience and care,” he said, his voice lowering. “For beauty is like a rare gem—it must be polished to truly shine.”

The air between you charged with an unspoken tension, and you took a step closer. “And if I want to shine now?” The challenge in your voice was playful, but earnest.

Vil’s smile was enigmatic. “Impatient, are we? Very well.” In a fluid motion, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that stole your breath away. It was over before you could fully comprehend it, leaving you stunned.

“Oh, shit,” you whispered, the realization dawning on you.

Vil’s chuckle was low and warm. “Surprised?”

You nodded, still reeling from the intensity of the moment. But as he leaned in again, this time slower, giving you time to close your eyes and meet his kiss halfway, you found yourself sinking into the sensation, letting go of your reservations.

The kiss deepened, and you felt Vil’s hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. You responded in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, lost in the beauty of the moment.

When you finally parted, breathless and flushed, Vil’s gaze held a new admiration. “See? You shine brilliantly.”

And in the quiet of the garden, with the last rays of the sun painting the sky, you believed him.

[your-local-simp-writers]

A Byte of Affection

Word Count: 683

Warnings: None

Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The morning light filtered through the high windows of the Ignihyde dormitory, casting a soft glow on the stainless steel surfaces of the kitchen. It was an early start, but excitement bubbled within you as you began the preparations for a special dish, one that you hoped would coax Idia Shroud out of his room and into the warmth of shared company.

Ortho, ever the eager helper, hovered nearby, his mechanical limbs whirring softly as he sorted through the ingredients. “Do you think Brother will like it?” he asked, his digital eyes blinking up at you with a mixture of hope and curiosity.

You chuckled, patting Ortho’s metallic arm reassuringly. “I’m sure he will. We’ll make it irresistible.”

Together, you and Ortho set to work, the kitchen becoming a hive of activity. Ortho, ever the helpful assistant, was meticulously organizing the ingredients, his digital display showing timers and recipes to ensure everything was prepared to perfection. You, with a practiced hand, were seasoning and tasting, adjusting the flavors to create a dish that would not only satisfy the taste buds but also warm the heart.

“Ortho, can you pass me the turmeric?” you asked, your hands busy kneading dough for the naan bread.

“Right away!” Ortho responded, quickly retrieving the spice and pouring out the exact amount needed.

The camaraderie between you was palpable, a seamless partnership that made the work feel more like play. You found yourself laughing more than once at Ortho’s attempts to mimic human expressions, his screen displaying various emojis to match his ‘mood’.

As the curry began to simmer, its spicy scent filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. This was more than just a meal; it was a bridge, a way to connect with the elusive Idia on a level beyond circuits and screens. 

As the dish neared completion, the aroma wafting through the dormitory corridors was enough to draw Idia out of his room—a feat that few could boast of achieving. He arrived in the kitchen with a cautious curiosity, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you and the simmering pot on the stove.

“Is that… for me?” Idia asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice as he took a tentative step forward.

“Yes,” you replied with a smile, “I thought you might enjoy a break from your screens with something homemade.”

Idia’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of blue, and he fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. “I… I don’t know what to say. No one’s ever…”

Before he could finish, Ortho interjected with his usual cheerfulness. “It’s going to be delicious! Y/N  has been working on it all day!”

You nodded, encouraging Idia to take a closer look. “Here, have a taste,” you offered, scooping a small sample onto a spoon and holding it out to him.

Idia hesitated, his usual shyness in social situations evident. But the enticing smell and your reassuring smile coaxed him closer. As he leaned in to take a bite, his eyes widened in surprise at the burst of flavors. It was as if you had captured the essence of Ignihyde’s innovative spirit in a single dish.

“It’s… incredible,” Idia managed to say, his voice filled with genuine awe.

Just then, a drop of curry threatened to escape, and you quickly placed your hand under his chin, catching it before it could stain his shirt. Idia looked up at you, his expression a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, clearly touched by your gesture.

You couldn’t help but smile, a bit flustered by the closeness, and replied, “It’s nothing, really. And I couldn’t have done it without Ortho’s help—he’s been amazing.”

Ortho’s screen lit up with a series of happy emojis, basking in the praise. “I’m always here to assist!” he chimed in, his digital voice filled with pride.

Idia glanced between you and Ortho, and for a moment, he seemed to be at a loss for words, his usual reticence giving way to a rare display of warmth. “Well, I… I appreciate it. Both of you.”

[your-local-simp-writers]

Starlight Symphony

Word Count: 676

Warnings: None

Headcanons: Sora x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

In the heart of the world that never was, where light and darkness blend into a twilight of possibilities, Sora found a companion unlike any other—a friend, a confidant, a partner in every adventure. She was a beacon in the ever-shifting shadows, her laughter a melody that could cut through the deepest gloom.

Their bond was unique, woven from countless shared moments and small acts of tenderness. Whether it was the first bite of a sea-salt ice cream under the radiant skies of Destiny Islands or the last piece of a star-shaped fruit as they watched the sunset from the clock tower in Twilight Town, Sora always insisted she taste the magic first. It was his unspoken vow, a promise of shared experiences and a life intertwined.

And then there were the kisses—soft, affectionate pecks on the tip of the nose that spoke a language of their own. Whether given or received, each was a whisper of affection, a fleeting touch that said more than words ever could. In these gentle exchanges, they found comfort and a reminder of the love that guided them through every battle.

"Sometimes, I wonder what lies beyond even the stars," Sora mused, his gaze lost in the celestial sea above.

She smiled, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "Wherever it is, I'm sure it's filled with new friends and adventures. Just like the worlds we've visited."

Sora chuckled, turning to her with a soft expression. "You're right. As long as we're together, there's no limit to the skies we can explore." 

"Have you ever thought about what it means to share a paopu fruit?" Sora asked, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of the universe's vast expanse.

She turned to him, her eyes curious. "Isn't it meant to intertwine our destinies forever?"

He nodded, his spiky hair catching the starlight. "Yeah, but it's more than that. It's about sharing everything—the good times, the tough battles, and even the quiet moments like this."

A comfortable silence settled between them, filled with the unspoken understanding that had grown over their journey. It was a bond forged not just in the heat of battle but in the peace that followed. 

Suddenly, a meteor streaked across the sky, its tail a blaze of glory that momentarily lit up the night. "Make a wish," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Sora closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Done. What about you?"

"I wished that no matter where we go, we'll always find our way back to each other," she confessed, her voice barely audible.

Opening his eyes, Sora leaned in, his breath warm on her cheek. "That's not just a wish. It's a promise," he said, sealing it with a gentle kiss on her forehead. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a paopu fruit, its star-like shape glistening in the dimming light. "Here, you should have the first bite," he offered, holding it out to her.

With a gentle nod, she accepted, taking a small bite. The sweetness of the fruit seemed to encapsulate their shared journey—a blend of joy, challenges, and unspoken promises.

"Thank you, Sora," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For sharing this moment, for sharing your heart."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with delight. "And thank you for always being my guiding star." Leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss on the tip of her nose, a gesture that felt as natural as the bond they shared.

She laughed, a sound that danced with the wind, and returned the gesture, her lips brushing against his nose. "I guess we're just two stars drawn together, aren't we?"

"In every way," Sora agreed, his hand finding hers.

They stood up, hands still clasped, as they prepared to return to the Gummi Ship. "Ready to explore more worlds?" Sora asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Always," she replied, her heart full of anticipation for the adventures that awaited them, knowing that whatever worlds they would discover, their shared moments would be the true treasures they would cherish forever.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Hershey Kiss

Word Count: 518

Warnings: None

Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

In the dimly lit room filled with the soft glow of computer screens, you found Idia, the reclusive head of Ignihyde, engrossed in his latest gaming conquest. His fingers danced across the keyboard with a fervor that only a true gamer could muster. You watched him for a moment, a smile tugging at your lips at his intense concentration.

You watched him from the doorway, a fond smile playing on your lips. Idia, ever so engrossed in his virtual battles, rarely noticed the world around him. It was one of the things you adored about him—the intensity of his passion. But today, you wanted to draw him out of his digital cocoon, if only for a moment.

Stepping quietly, you approached him from behind, your presence unnoticed until you were right beside him. In one fluid motion, you sat down on his lap, disrupting his gameplay and shattering his focus.

Idia’s reaction was immediate; his body tensed, and his hands froze above the keyboard. “Hey, you want a kiss?” you asked, your voice tinged with mischief.

Idia’s eyes widened, the vibrant color of his hair almost paling in comparison to the deep flush that spread across his cheeks. “What???” he exclaimed, his voice a pitch higher than usual, a mix of shock and bewilderment.

Your laughter filled the room, a sound that seemed foreign in the usually quiet space. You held up a small piece of chocolate between your fingers, the foil wrapper catching the light. “The chocolate, relax,” you said, still chuckling at his adorable overreaction.

Idia let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping as the tension drained from his body. His arms, which had been hovering uncertainty, now wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer in a snug embrace. “You really shouldn’t scare me like that,” he grumbled, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, betraying his amusement.

You leaned back against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. But you have to admit, it was a little funny,” you teased, tilting your head to look at him.

Idia huffed, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “Maybe just a little,” he conceded, the ghost of a smile finally breaking through. “But only because it’s you.”

As the two of you shared a comfortable silence, enjoying the closeness and the shared chocolate, you couldn’t help but notice the softness in Idia’s eyes. It was a look that you rarely saw, one that spoke of trust and a bond that went beyond words.

With a smile, you reached up and gently turned his face towards you. “Idia,” you said softly, “thank you for being you.”

Before he could respond, you leaned in and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it held all the affection and gratitude you felt for him.

Idia’s entire face turned a brilliant shade of red, even brighter than before, and for a moment, he was completely speechless. Then, with a shy smile, he whispered, “You’re welcome. And, uh, thank you too.”

[your-local-simp-writers]

Threads of Gratitude

Word Count: 478

Warnings: None

Vil Schoenheit x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

In the elegant quarters of Pomefiore, where beauty reigned supreme, you sat across from Vil Schoenheit, the dorm leader known for his impeccable standards and grace. The task at hand was a delicate one, requiring both creativity and dexterity: crafting friendship bracelets that would embody the essence of your bond.

Vil, with his usual poise, selected strands of silk thread in hues that matched the Pomefiore colors—purples and golds that shimmered in the light.  “Remember, it’s not just about the aesthetic,” Vil instructed. “Each color, each bead, must have meaning. It should speak of the bond it represents.”

You nodded, your fingers fumbling slightly with the tiny beads. “I want mine to say ‘grateful’,” you said, concentrating on threading the beads onto the string. “Because that’s what I am for our friendship.”

Vil looked up from his work, his gaze appraising. “Grateful is a good choice,” he agreed. “It speaks of depth and understanding.”

The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of beads and the occasional snip of scissors. You both worked in comfortable silence, the shared task creating an intimate atmosphere that was new to your friendship with Vil.

After a while, Vil broke the silence. “You have a steady hand,” he observed, watching as you tied a knot. “It’s essential for beauty. Precision is everything.”

You laughed, a little self-consciously. “I’m not sure about precision, but I’m doing my best.”

Vil’s lips quirked up in a rare, genuine smile. “And that is all one can ask for,” he said. “Perfection is not about the absence of flaws, but the effort to rise above them.”

As you both finished your bracelets, you couldn’t help but admire Vil’s work. His was flawless, each bead perfectly aligned, each knot tight and secure. It was a reflection of him—meticulous and beautiful.

“Here,” Vil said, as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. “A perfect fit,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on the bracelet. “A token of our friendship.”

You exchanged bracelets, and as Vil fastened the one you made onto his wrist, you felt a surge of pride. It might not have been perfect, but it was made with sincerity and care. Vil’s bracelet for you was exquisite, each knot and bead placed with precision and care. Yours, while not as flawless, was made with equal parts love and admiration.

“Thank you, Vil,” you said, feeling the weight of the bracelet on your wrist. “This means a lot to me.”

Vil nodded, his eyes softening. “And to me as well. We are, after all, reflections of those we hold dear.”

In that moment, with the sun setting outside and the room aglow with the golden light, you realized that the true beauty of your friendship wasn’t just in the shared interests or the laughter—it was in the moments like these, quiet and sincere, that you would treasure forever.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Unexpected

Word Count: 406

Warnings: None

Soap x Fem! Hispanic! Wife! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The engines of the C-130 Hercules cut through the silence of the airstrip, heralding the return of Task Force 141 from a grueling mission. Among the crowd, a lone figure stood out—Y/N, Soap’s wife, her vibrant presence a stark contrast to the military precision around her.

As the soldiers filed out, the air was thick with anticipation. María’s heart pounded in her chest, her eyes eagerly searching for Soap. When he finally emerged, her joy was uncontainable. She dashed towards him, her laughter echoing across the tarmac. “¡Mi amor, te extrañé tanto!” she exclaimed, leaping into his arms.

The members of TF-141 halted in their tracks, their battle-hardened facades crumbling in disbelief. Ghost’s eyebrow arched behind his mask, Roach’s mouth agape, and even Price’s eyes softened, a rare occurrence. They had faced countless dangers together, but this was uncharted territory. They exchanged glances, each silently asking the same question: “Soap’s married?”

“So, lads,” Soap began, his voice betraying a hint of bashfulness, “this is the better half I’ve been keeping secret. Y/N, these are the brothers I’ve told you so much about.”

María beamed, her energy infectious as she greeted each member with a warm embrace and a flurry of Spanish. “¡Hola! Soy Y/N’s, es un honor finalmente conocer a los amigos de mi esposo,” she said, her words flowing like a melody.

The men of TF-141, known for their stoicism, found themselves at a loss, charmed by her vivacious spirit. Ghost, usually a man of few words, found himself engaging in a playful banter, while Roach couldn’t help but chuckle at Soap’s evident pride.

Ghost’s usual reticence gave way to a rare chuckle. “Never thought Soap would manage to keep a secret this delightful,” he remarked.

Price, ever the leader, stepped forward. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, his voice gruff with a hint of amusement. “Soap, you’ve outdone yourself. She’s quite the gem.”

As the evening unfolded, Y/N’s laughter became the soundtrack of their reunion. She listened intently to their stories, her eyes alight with admiration, and they, in turn, saw a new side of Soap—a man deeply in love, his heart belonging to the spirited woman who had effortlessly woven herself into the fabric of their tight-knit group.

The TF-141 left that night with a new story to tell—not of war, but of the unexpected joy found in a comrade’s hidden life, a reminder of the world worth fighting for.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Masks and Revelations

Word Count: 801

Warnings: None

Terry Mcginnis x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The crisp October air was filled with the scent of fallen leaves and the distant laughter of children planning their trick-or-treat routes. You had always loved Halloween, the one time of year when everyone could be someone else, if only for a night. This year, you had a special surprise for your significant other, Terry McGinnis.

You slipped into your Batgirl costume, the fabric hugging your form like a second skin. The cowl was the final piece, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, a thrill ran through you. Terry, with his love for all things Batman, would never see it coming.

Meanwhile, Terry was in his room, struggling with a decision. Halloween was complicated for him, given his nightly escapades as Batman. He chuckled at the irony of it all—here he was, trying to choose a costume when he already had the most authentic one at home.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Terry, are you ready yet?” his brother’s voice called out, muffled by the wood between them.

“Just a minute, Matt!” Terry replied, finally settling on a simple Robin costume. It wasn’t the real deal, but it was close enough.

When you arrived at Terry’s doorstep, Matt greeted you first, his eyes wide with excitement. “Wow, you look just like Batgirl, Y/N!” he exclaimed, twirling in his mini Batman costume.  Matt, the mini Batman of the house, was running around, his cape fluttering behind him as he practiced his best superhero poses. 

You laughed, ruffling his hair. “And you make a perfect Batman, Matt. Is your brother ready?”

Matt nodded eagerly, and as Terry stepped out, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him in the Robin costume. “I thought I’d keep it in the family,” he said with a grin, taking in your Batgirl outfit.

You teased Terry about his choice of costume. “I never took you for a sidekick,” you said, a playful glint in your eye.

Terry just smiled, a secret dancing behind his eyes. “You’d be surprised,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of child laughter. Terry’s arm slipping around your waist.

“Happy Halloween, Y/N,” he whispered, and you leaned into him, feeling the contours of his costume against your own.

“Happy Halloween, Terry,” you replied, unaware of the true depth behind his mask, the real hero that stood beside you.

“Alright, team,” you announced, “let’s get these pumpkins carved. Batgirl and her sidekicks can’t have a dull doorstep on Halloween!”

Matt was the first to dive into the task, his small hands scooping out pumpkin guts with a look of fierce concentration. “I’m gonna make the scariest face ever!” he declared, his eyes alight with the excitement that only a child on Halloween could possess.

Terry leaned over to whisper in your ear, “I bet he’s going to give us a run for our money.”

You smiled, taking up your own carving tools. “We’ll just have to step up our game then, won’t we?”

As the three of you worked on your pumpkins, the front porch became a canvas of creativity and laughter. Terry was meticulous in his carving, creating a bat symbol that looked almost professional. You went for a more traditional approach, crafting a grinning jack-o’-lantern that seemed to reflect the joy of the evening.

Matt looked between the two of you, his eyes wide. “You guys are so good at this!” he exclaimed, his own pumpkin taking shape under his determined hands.

“You’re not so bad yourself, little man,” Terry said, ruffling his brother’s hair. “That’s going to be one spooky pumpkin.”

Once the carving was done, you all stepped back to admire your handiwork. The pumpkins were lined up on the steps, their candles casting a warm glow against the darkening sky.

Terry wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Not bad for a night’s work,” he said, pride evident in his voice.

Matt bounced on the balls of his feet, eager to show off your creations to the neighborhood. “Can we go trick-or-treating now?” he asked, his voice tinged with impatience.

You laughed, nodding. “Yes, we can go now. But first, let’s get a picture of the Bat-family with their pumpkins.”

The three of you huddled together, the camera capturing the moment perfectly—a snapshot of Halloween happiness.

As the night progressed, you, Terry, and Matt wandered the neighborhood, collecting candy and compliments on your costumes. The air was filled with the sounds of Halloween—shrieks, laughter, and the rustling of leaves.

It was a night of masks and merriment, of heroes in costume and the simple joy of being together. And though you didn’t know Terry’s secret—that he was the real Batman—it didn’t matter. Because tonight, he was just Terry, your Robin, and that was more than enough.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Glitter and Memories

Word Count: 735

Warnings: None

Cater Diamond x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Cater flashed his signature grin, his eyes twinkling with the same mischievous spark that had first drawn you in. “Today’s the day we let our creativity run wild,” he declared, spreading an array of art supplies across the table.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the enthusiasm he exuded. “And what exactly do we have planned, Diamond?”

With a flourish, he presented a scrapbook, its pages blank and waiting to be filled with memories. “We’re going to capture the magic of our everyday moments,” he said, “and maybe add a little twist.”

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the glitter, glue, and colorful paper that surrounded you. Cater’s excitement was infectious, and soon you found yourself fully immersed in the project, cutting and pasting with more gusto than you’d ever thought possible.

As the scrapbook began to take shape, Cater paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know what this needs? A centerpiece that truly pops.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what might that be?”

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Cater reached under the table and pulled out a miniature volcano kit, complete with baking soda and vinegar. “Remember making these in school? Let’s recreate that magic.”

The next hour was a blur of laughter and creativity as you both constructed the volcano, decorating it with an extravagance that only Cater could inspire. And when it came time to make it erupt, you both held your breath, counting down before pouring the vinegar into the crater.

The reaction was immediate, a frothy explosion of glitter-infused lava that spilled over the sides, much to your delight. Cater’s laughter mingled with yours, the sound as bright and vibrant as the sparkling mess you’d created. As the glitter from the volcanic eruption settled, Cater turned to you with a playful challenge in his eyes. “I bet you can’t make a more extravagant page than I can,” he teased, his competitive streak shining through.

You accepted the challenge with a smile, knowing full well that Cater’s artistic skills were top-notch. “You’re on, Diamond. Prepare to be dazzled.”

The two of you dove into the task, each trying to outdo the other with elaborate designs and creative use of materials. Cater was a master of color, his pages a vibrant tapestry that told stories without words. You, on the other hand, had a knack for storytelling, your pages weaving narratives that brought smiles and occasional laughter.

As you both worked, your shoulders brushed, and every so often, Cater would lean over to plant a quick kiss on your cheek, leaving a faint smudge of glitter in his wake. “For good luck,” he’d say, though you both knew it was just an excuse to be close.

The hours slipped by, marked by the soft sound of scissors cutting paper and the occasional burst of laughter when one of you made a particularly bold artistic choice. “Look at this,” Cater said, holding up a page where he’d managed to create a 3D effect with layers of paper. “It’s like we could step right into the scene.”

You admired his work, genuinely impressed. “It’s amazing, Cater. But wait until you see what I’ve got planned for the next page.” You revealed your surprise—a series of photos from your first date, carefully arranged to tell the story of that magical night.

Cater’s eyes softened as he looked at the photos, and he reached out to trace the edge of one with a finger. “That was a good night,” he murmured, and you could hear the love in his voice.

“It was the start of something wonderful,” you agreed, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature.

Eventually, the scrapbook was filled to the brim with memories, each page a testament to the bond you shared. Cater closed the book gently, his hand lingering on the cover. “This is more than just a book,” he said, looking up at you with earnest eyes. “It’s a piece of us.”

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words. “And we’ll keep adding to it, page by page, memory by memory.”

Cater pulled you into a hug, the kind that said everything without a single word. And in that moment, surrounded by the chaos of your creative endeavors, you knew that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

[your-local-simp-writers]

By Your Side

Word Count: 495

Warnings: None

Riddle Roseheart x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

In the quiet comfort of your room, the world outside seemed to slow its pace, allowing you to rest and recover. You were nestled under the covers, feeling under the weather, and the thought of leaving the warm embrace of your bed was far from appealing.

Riddle’s expression was a mix of concern and frustration as he stood at the foot of your bed. “You really should be in the infirmary,” he insisted, his hands clasped behind his back in a display of self-restraint. “The healers there are better equipped to—”

“I don’t want to go,” you interrupted, your voice weak but determined. “I just… I want to stay here. Please.”

He sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of his responsibilities. “You’re being unreasonable,” he said, though the sharpness of his words was softened by the worry that crept into his eyes. “What if it’s something serious?”

“It’s not,” you assured him, managing a feeble smile. “I just need rest, that’s all.”

Riddle looked as if he wanted to argue further, but he closed his mouth, taking a deep breath. “Fine,” he huffed, the word almost a growl. “But only because you’re so stubborn.”

Riddle hesitated for a moment, the rules of the dorms, and his duties clashing with his concern for you. Finally, he nodded, conceding to your wishes. “I’ll be here to ensure you have everything you need.”

True to his word, Riddle stayed by your side, his presence a constant in the quiet of your room. He juggled his duties with his self-appointed role as your caretaker, bringing you water, reading to you, and even making sure you ate the soup he had brought.

As the hours passed, you could see the toll it was taking on him—the dark circles under his eyes, the way his movements became slower, more deliberate. Yet he never complained, never wavered in his determination to see you through your illness.

When evening came, Riddle appeared with a tray bearing a bowl of warm soup. The steam wafted through the air, carrying with it the scent of herbs and the promise of nourishment. “I thought this might help,” he said, setting the tray down beside you. “It’s not much, but…”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” you said, managing a small smile. Riddle’s cheeks colored slightly at the praise, and he quickly busied himself with adjusting the tray.

You took a spoonful of the soup, and warmth spread through you, a gentle balm to the aches and chills. Riddle watched you for a moment, ensuring the soup was to your liking, before he relaxed, a silent vow in his eyes to stay by your side until you were well again.

In the quiet of your room, with Riddle’s careful attention and the soothing warmth of the soup, you felt the weight of your illness begin to lift. And perhaps, in that moment, you realized that sometimes, the best medicine was the care of a friend who wanted nothing more than to see you smile again.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Enchanted Pages

Word Count: 408

Warnings: None

Lilia Vanrouge x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The quaint bookstore nestled in the heart of the city was a haven for those who sought the comfort of stories and the thrill of new knowledge. It was here, among the towering shelves and the scent of old paper, that your path crossed with Lilia Vanrouge’s.

You were both reaching for the same book—a rare edition of fairy tales that spoke of ancient magics and timeless adventures. Your hands touched, and you both retracted them quickly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“I apologize,” Lilia began, his voice a gentle lilt that seemed to dance with the dust motes in the air. “It seems we have similar tastes in literature.”

You laughed, the sound soft and melodic. “It’s quite alright. I’m just surprised to find someone else interested in such an obscure collection,” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Lilia’s eyes twinkled with a mischievous light. “Ah, but the obscure often holds the most enchanting tales, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, his gaze lingering on yours.

You nodded, feeling an unexpected connection forming between you. “Absolutely. There’s something magical about discovering a story that’s been forgotten by time.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there, as if you had known each other for years. You discussed your favorite tales, the ones that had shaped your dreams and sparked your imagination. Lilia listened intently, his head tilted in that charming way that made you feel like the only person in the world.

As you spoke, Lilia’s hand brushed against yours, a touch as light as a feather, yet it sent a shiver down your spine. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the book still nestled in the shelf.

“Of course,” you said, stepping aside to give him space.

Lilia carefully pulled the book from its place, his fingers caressing the spine with reverence. “Would you like to share it?” he offered, his smile warm and inviting. “We could read it together, perhaps over a cup of tea?”

The idea was delightful, and you found yourself nodding before you even fully processed his words. “I’d like that very much,” you admitted, your heart fluttering with the prospect of spending more time with this intriguing stranger.

And so, a bond was formed, over shared stories and whispered secrets, in the cozy corner of a bookstore that felt like a portal to another world. It was the beginning of a tale that neither of you would soon forget. 

[your-local-simp-writers]

A Promise Across Time

Word Count: 354

Warnings: None

Headcanons: Young Xehanort x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

In the vast expanse of worlds where hearts connect and destinies intertwine, there existed a bond so strong that not even the relentless flow of time could sever it. This was the bond between Xehanort and you, a connection foretold by the red string of fate—a symbol of soulmates destined to find each other.

It was in the realm of twilight, where light and shadow danced in a delicate balance, that your paths first crossed. The red string glimmered between you, visible only to those who understood the depth of its significance. Side by side, you fought against the encroaching darkness, your hearts beating as one in the heat of battle.

But fate, as fickle as the winds of change, had other plans. In a battle that shook the very foundations of the worlds, you fell, your light extinguishing like a star winking out of existence. Xehanort, with a heart heavy with grief, could only watch as the string faded into nothingness, taking with it the warmth of your presence.

Driven by a longing that transcended reason, Xehanort embarked on a journey through time itself, a quest to unravel the mysteries of the heart and the secrets of existence. He traversed the streams of time, seeking answers, seeking you.

And then, in a world that was both familiar and new, he found you once more. Reincarnated, with no memories of your past life, you were a beacon of light in a sea of ordinary faces. The moment your eyes met, the red string of fate reappeared, binding you together once again.

As Xehanort spent time with you, learning the contours of your reborn soul, he found himself falling in love all over again. Each smile, each laugh, each shared moment was a rediscovery of the love that had never truly faded.

With the red string of fate as his witness, Xehanort made a vow—a promise that no matter how many times the world turned, no matter how many lives you lived, he would always find you. For a bond as strong as yours was meant to endure, to thrive, to remember.