#fading-blossom-in-the-sand

[minachan95-written-works-on-ao3]

Title: Fading Blossom in the Sand (Chapter 19)

Pairing: Kyo x Iori, MaleOC x Cannon character(one-sided)

Characters: Kyo Kusanagi, Shingo Yabuki, Iori Yagami, Chizuru Kagura, Dr.Makishima, Male Original Character, Leona Heidern, Yukari, female!Kyo Clone

Rating: 18+ (Rape, non-con, tentacles, tentacle rape, dubcon, blackmail, NTR/Netorare/cheating, slow burn)

Summary: It’s 24XX, one of Resistance Force members, Kyo, was sent to investigate abandoned NESTS spaceship. The very little he would know that this place is not so lonely…

AO3 Link

After the Resistance soldiers reach the end of the end of the Isolation Unit, they get surrounded by the men in black body armor and stainless steel masks wielding massive laser guns and pointing at them.

When the brunette raises her hands, she addresses these troops. “You can lower your guns. I’m on your side.”

 She points with her chin at Iori without removing her eyes from the armed soldiers. “All I’m here for is to bring this man to my dad.”

While the troops focus on their targets, Kyoko lowers her hands and adds. “He works here. Does the name Professor Iriyu Kurama says anything to you? So, you have no reason to treat us like this.”

For now, the redhead addresses his partner while he lowers his blade. “You’re wasting your breath… Cover my back.”

Lastly, without hesitation, Iori charges at the enemy.

As the countless bullets fly at Yagami, he reflects on each one by spinning his trustworthy weapon and sending it back to his opponents.

When he gets close enough, he stabs and slashes in half the nearest man.

Meanwhile, Kyoko picks up the handheld gun and blasts whoever aims at them.

___________________

Soon enough, the fierce battle is over. After wiping the blood from his face with his uniform sleeve, Iori approaches his battle partner.

However, when he reaches the metal door and is about to slash it, Kyoko’s voice stops him. “Wait! Dad’s office is here. So, we don’t need to go any further.”

“I don’t care about him. We’ll get your original first. Then, that fool.” The redhead backfires without looking back.

After Yagami unleashes a couple of stronger attacks to destroy the door, he briefly orders. “Follow me. Or do you want to wait here until more of these guys show up?”

At this point, the brunette has no choice but to follow the stubborn soldier. “It can’t be helped that I need to protect you until we find Dad.”

Unfortunately, another wave of the NESTS troops already greets them.

Meanwhile, Iori only cracks a smile and mockingly comments. “Oh~ Looks like you want to go to hell that badly. Fine. I’ll send you there.”

____________________

Some time has passed. After rushing through the endless corridors and defeating countless enemies, they reached the deeper level of NESTS.

Judging from the endless rows of half-empty rooms enclosed by thick glass doors, this place resembles a prison where unfortunate souls await their death sentences.

After wandering for a long time, Iori freezes in the same spot near one room and widens his eyes.

Apparently, one familiar-looking person catches his eye.

Even the sense of time and place disappears for Iori, and all he can do is stare in disbelief at this male as if he saw a living ghost.

Heck, thousands of emotions that the redhead could not understand, nor did he know he had rushed to him.

Apparently, the Kusanagi sits on the bed, leaning against the corner, staring into nothingness while his arms are restrained with chains.

However, the redhead doesn’t realize that anyone sitting behind the glass door cannot see what is going on outside.

Right now, he can only speak up in a quiet, shaky voice and press his palm on the glass door. “... Kyo.”

Lastly, the brunette faces the door.

When their eyes meet, Yagami’s heart skips a beat.

Despite starting with his empty and tired eyes, Kyo doesn’t react to the person behind the door. A few seconds later, he turns his head away and lowers it, sinking deeper into the darkness.

For sure, it makes Iori shakily clench his palms into fists and lower his head while grinding his teeth.

However, he isn’t heartbroken and frustrated because of traveling across the universe just to get ignored by Kyo.

No. Iori is not certain whether he should be mad at himself or whoever has broken Kyo to such a degree that he cannot recognize his long-time mission partner as turning him into nothing but a shell of his former self.

Suddenly, Iori hits the door as hard as he can and continues doing so while calling the Kusanagi’s name.

At the moment, even Kyoko steps back while observing this from a distance.

Meanwhile, the imprisoned brunette gets alerted and looks in the direction of the banging.

Even if he cannot see behind the white door, he immediately recognizes to whom belongs that familiar voice that struck like thunder from the clear sky.

Despite being confused about whether it is just a hallucination, Kyo carefully stands up while facing the door. “Ya… Yagami?”

A second later, the banging ceases, and the redhead addresses him. “Stay where you are! I’m coming for you!”

Thus, with the sound of scratching the surface, the saber blade penetrates the door and cuts it into pieces.

After Iori enters the cell, he calls the Kusanagi’s name. “Kyo!”

As the brunette barely comprehends the view in front of him, he asks in an unsure tone. “Yagami… What. What are you doing here?”

“It’s you! It’s really you,” Iori says while containing his emotions.

When he approaches Kyo, he instinctively wraps his arms around him, refusing to let him go.

For sure, such a gesture surprises the Kusanagi. After all, it’s the first time when his partner so openly shows any affection.

But for now, while Yagami’s trembling body is pressed against his, he can feel how his hug tightens.

In the end, Iori closes his eyes and whispers. “You’re… you’re alive. Thank the fucking goodness, I’ve finally found you.”

When Kyo notices another person standing behind the redhead curiously observing them, he gives a questioning look.

As Kyoko gets close to this couple, she speaks up in an unsure voice. “Nii-sama? Er, I mean… So, you’re the original?”

Finally, when Iori releases the Kusanagi from the hug, he holds his shoulders and explains in a calm tone. “We need to get out of here.”

However, he suspiciously narrows his gaze upon noticing a strange black collar around Kyo’s neck. “What a hell is this?”

Just before he touches it, a strict voice behind them interrupts them. “Stay away from him!”

_____________________

Apparently, it’s a fluffy silver-haired scientist wearing glasses standing in the gap of the former door, pointing a gun at Yagami’s head and keeping his other hand in the pocket.

After Kurama gets everyone’s attention, he adds while keeping his poker face. “I warn you - one wrong move and I’ll blast a brute like you.”

Yet, Iori only growls at the impostor and shields Kyo with one arm.

Meanwhile, Kyoko’s face shines with excitement as she approaches the scientist. “Dad, you’re okay!”

However, as the tip of the gun moves towards her, Kurama replies. “Back off, you filthy copy.”

After she steps back, she lowers her head to the side. “Dad? Is everything alright?”

When the female replica places her hand on her chest, she adds. “Hey, Dad, look. The original is here. And that man over there - he helped me to save Nii-sama. So, he is in good hands now, and we’ll bring him to you when he feels better.”

The silver-haired male is unaffected by these words. After he points back the gun at the redhead, he orders. “Let him go and I may pretend that I never met you.”

“Fuck off! Kyo is mine!” Iori growls and points his trustworthy weapon at him.

But for now, Kurama only chuckles and fixes his glasses. “I see… It seems that peaceful negotiation with war criminals has failed. But I didn’t expect more from someone who only understands violence. Unfortunately for you, I won’t allow a bloody murderer like you to harm him any further.”

Meanwhile, Kyo is startled when the professor looks towards him with that warm, innocent smile and a comforting voice that sends cold shivers down his skin. “It’s alright, Kusanagi-kun. Let me finish these barbarians and I’ll take you to a safer place.”

___________________

Just before he pulls the trigger, Kyoko closes her eyes and tackles him, making him miss the shot.

While Kurama struggles under the brunette sitting on top of his back, he desperately tries to reach the dropped gun. “What? What do you think you’re doing? Get off me now!”

Unfortunately for him, Kyoko is strong enough to lock his arms.

But for now, she softens her gaze. “I’m sorry, dad. I can’t let you do this. That man may have killed countless of my brothers. However, he proved to me he cares a lot about original and he spared Nii-sama’s life. Dad, he even gave me a name before you did.”

“I knew from the very beginning that you are a defective failure who can’t follow simple orders. But I’m amazed how a weakling like you shares the same genes as Kusanagi-kun. If only the prototype would have developed faster than you, I would have saved my time and energy, and used him to trick that woman and NESTS instead of giving a life to such a worthless creature like you,” Kurama confesses.

After Kyoko releases his arms, she responds weakly while tears run down her face, trying to hold back sobs. “No. Dad, please tell me you’re lying…”

For sure, hearing these words alone boiled Iori’s blood with pure rage and hatred for this man.

At that moment, Kyo lowers his gaze upon such a revelation while the redhead refuses to listen to it any further and turns off his saber blade and attaches to his belt.

When Iori lowers his head, he addresses Kyo without looking back in as a chill voice as possible. “Stay still and do not interfere. It’s something personal between me and him.”

After he approaches the dumbfounded and shaky Kyoko and her oh-so-adored father, he pushes her away. When he squats, he roughly grabs Kurama by his shirt and makes him stand up.

In the end, Yagami narrows his gaze and looks down at the professor with pure disgust and hatred. “So, you’re the one who took Kyo away from me and made him suffer …You fucking bastard!”

Thus, Iori launches a punch into Kurama’s face.

Despite that, Kurama remains silent and gives a smug look while the blood runs from his nose and the corners of his lips.

As soon as Yagami tosses down the silver-haired male, he approaches Kyo. “We’re leaving.”

Meanwhile, the brunette objects while sitting on her knees and making big eyes. “But what about dad? We can’t just leave him like this, can we?”

“You’ve seen just now how much he cares about you. Besides, your brother is waiting for you.” Iori explains.

For now, the brunette lowers her gaze and follows the command. “Yes.”

When he gets close to Kusanagi, he takes his hand. “The same goes for you. Let’s go.”

However, just before Kyo opens his mouth to protest, Yagami interrupts him. “You can say whatever you want when we reach the base, you fool!”

Lastly, the redhead starts running and grabs Kyoko’s arm, making sure they will escape NESTS together.

____________________

Some time has passed.

After finally reaching their spaceship and entering it, Iori hears a short beeping noise from his sound transmission device and answers it. “What do you want?”

“This is the Headquarters. What are you up to this time, Yagami-san? And where in the world did you took Kyoko-san? Pl… please return to the Headquarters immediately!” The young female operator’s voice burst through speakers.

“Why do you have to be so annoying? Your precious princess is here with me if you care that much about her. Besides, we’re not coming back alone.” Iori explains in a slightly irritated tone.

“What are you talking about? Care to explain?” The operator asks.

Instead of wasting his time, the redhead replies before turning off the transmission device. “When we return, you all will see. Over.”

Meanwhile, Kyoko switches to the auto-pilot mode and turns her head to check on the other two Resistance soldiers in the back. “What was that, Yagami?”

“It seems that someone only now noticed that you’re missing and worries about you.” The redhead answers.

“I knew that I should have warned Kagura-san and Nii-sama before I left…” the brunette murmurs.

______________________

Several minutes have passed. While the auto-pilot mode is still on, Kyoko takes a longer nap before they reach the Headquarters.

In the meantime, Kyo stares through the window and sighs. “You should have left me. After all, not only I’ll cause trouble for you, but also I’ve killed him.”

Yet, Yagami leans closer and gives a questioning look.

Even if the words stuck in Kusanagi’s throat and he avoids facing Iori, he continues. “It was my fault that Shingo died twice. I’ve let him suffer in that abandoned spaceship, and now his dead body lies somewhere in NESTS labs. More importantly, NESTS and the Empire are probably tracking us and soon will discover our base.”

Suddenly, he widens his eyes when a couple of palms rest on his cheeks, making him face the redhead.

At that moment, the brunette silently stares at Iori, who narrows his gaze and studies him.

A second later, Yagami closes his eyes and exhales. After he lowers his hands, he replies. “Is this what concerns you? Then you definitely need to see something by yourself once we return.”

After a brief pause, he adds. “If you still blame yourself for what happened, show me your wrists.”

Of course, the brunette doesn’t question such a decision.

After Kyo raises his restrained hands, he looks away and impatiently waits for his partner’s next turn.

However, he gets alerted by the sound of a saber blade cutting and the sensation of his wrists being so light-weighted.

After Kyo checks his hands, he lifts his amber eyes, which question Yagami’s actions.

“I should have done this earlier.” Iori comments.

But for now, Kyo nervously swallows the saliva when their eyes meet.

Meanwhile, the redhead places his fingers under the brunette’s collar. “There should be a button somewhere around here to remove this thing, right?”

Thus, with the clicking noise, the black collar opens and releases the Kusanagi’s neck.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t fall on the ground and rests on the nape.

“The hell? Why is it still there?” Iori speaks up in an indignant tone while reaching out for it.

When he tries to pulls it, he withdraws his hand upon the Kusanagi’s sudden gasp.

A few moments later, the brunette only lowers his gaze and explains in a gloomy tone. “You won’t remove it that easily. It’s deep down inside me.”

‘These bastards… What they have done to him?’ Yagami thinks to himself while grinding his teeth.

A second later, he addresses Kyo in a serious voice. “This may sound like a stupid thing to say, but I need you to lie down on your stomach and on my lap.”

To his surprise, Kusanagi doesn’t protest and does what he says.

When Iori brings his hand in front of his partner’s mouth, he orders him. “You may want to bite into it. Here.”

For sure, such a gesture bewilders Kyo, making him hesitate.

“It may hurt you. That’s why I don’t want you to harm yourself.” The redhead persists.

After the brunette opens his mouth, he gently bites into Yagami’s hand.

When Iori grasps with his fingers around the exposed wire under the collar, he warns. “I’m going to pull it out now. Nod me if you’re ready.”

Lastly, Kusanagi lowers his gaze and nods.

Suddenly, Kyo widens his eyes and loudly gasps.

While his partner’s teeth sink into his flesh, Iori endures the pain and deeply breathes.

Fortunately, he pulls out the entire metal thread out of Kusanagi’s body.

However, when Kyo stops breathing and loosens his bite, Yagami slightly panics. “Kyo!”

After immediately removing one glove, Iori presses it against the brunette’s nape and checks his pulse on his sleep artery.

When he senses a weak pulse twitching against his fingers, he lowers his shoulders and exhales.

As Yagami brushes the hair from Kyo’s face, he whispers. “Thank goodness… He only passed out.”

_____________

A few minutes have passed. After Iori puts a medical plaster on disinfected Kyo’s nape, he lays him down on the entire back seat and rests the brunette’s head on his lap.

As he takes off his uniform jacket and covers himself, he gazes upon the peacefully sleeping Kusanagi, still in disbelief that Kyo is here with him.

More importantly, even staying like this for a while makes Iori happy secretly. After all, Kyo is safe by his side and does not need to suffer anymore.

_____________________

Chapter 1 Link

Chapter 18 Link

Chapter 20 Link ~COMING SOON~

#kof #king of fighters #kyo kusanagi #shingo yabuki #iori yagami #chizuru kagura #dr.makishima (king of fighters) #male oc #leona (king of fighters) #yukari mitsumine #serial #wip #fading-blossom-in-the-sand #alternate universe #science fantasy

[my-love-is-sunlight]

Bathing suit

Sanji x reader

Warnings: afab reader, comfort fluff but a little suggestive, CW reader is not comfortable with her body so she talks terrible about it (don’t worry this has a happy ending)

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: In which you hate how you look in your bathing suit and Sanji comforts you

Masterlist

It was a hot sunny day, the waves of the ocean made their way to the shore in a calm rhythm, so steady that the Strawhats found themselves having to dock on the beach for the day, awaiting for the ocean’s ferocity to comeback so they could sail away to continue their adventure

A day in the beach, everyone was more than happy for the idea. Having to spend your days at sea with the same faces looking back at you every waking moment could be a little nagging, having this time to unravel and enjoy the beauty of the island was something everyone looked forward to. Franky and Ussop had even set up an improvised tiki bar, just an excuse for Sanji to make everyone drinks really

And there he was, mixing up a fruit drink that he handed Nami which she took gratefully, before making her way back to her assigned place under an umbrella besides Robin. A smile was quick to make its way to the cooks face, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, wether it be savoring his drinks, fooling around in the ocean or constructing an impressive sand castle near the shore

But his smile was quick to fade when he noticed you were nowhere to be found, how strange. Earlier that day, when Luffy happily shared the news of how the crew was going to spend the day, he clearly recalled your enthusiastic response, happy to finally have some sand under your feet and enjoy a relaxing day under the beaming sun; so… where were you?

Worry seemed to be building up on Sanji’s core when he asked about your whereabouts and no one really knew where or what were you doing

“Last time I saw her she was getting ready, said she’d catch up to us” Robin commented, which did nothing to ease his worries since that had happened when you had just docked

“I’m just going to make sure she’s ok” Sanji said after taking a drag of his cigarette that burned hastily under his fingertips. Robin smiled and nodded, knowing that whatever it was, Sanji would take good care of it

So he looked for you, all over and under The Sunny, but it seemed like you had dissipated into thin air, that was until he heard a sob reverb from behind the girls quarters door. Thinking something absolutely terrible and unthinkable had happened to the sweet sweet you, Sanji kicked open the door, making you jump out of your skin as his eyes examined the room

When he saw you, eyes puffy, nose red, wrapped under a blanket looking like a sad wet dog Sanji found himself stunned, glad you were in one piece, but his heart breaking at your sight

“My dear… what happened?” You stayed in place, only answering with a sad sob and a shiver, the blonde eased his position, softening as he approached gently “dear?”

“Nothing… I’m just, not feeling well” Sanji had never seen you like this, in his eyes you were a strong and brave woman that carried herself proudly, to see you so vulnerable made his heart clench. Hesitantly, he sat at your side of your bed, his eyes never leaving your form, taking note of your fingertips dragging your tears away in a hurry. A salience fell, deafening as you fought back the pain blossoming form your being, hiding into yourself

“Are you sure?” A sigh left your lips, your eyes watering meeting his blue worried ones, you shook your head slowly

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was barely a whisper, as if afraid you’ll get scared and run away again. You stayed still for a moment, hesitant but too hurt to even deny, you nodded shutting your eyes as new tears peeked at the sides

Sanji scooted closer, his hand reaching for your back rubbing confronting circles “I feel disgusting”- your voice came out broken and tired.- “I look so bad in my bathing suit, nothing like Nami and Robin… why am I like this?”

Every single word that came out of your mouth was like a dagger hitting Sanji’s stomach repeatedly, hurting him like nothing had ever before and leaving him confused

Every since Sanji had landed his eyes on you, he was absolutely star struck. He swears he had never crossed paths with someone like you, your beauty beyond compare. Sure he was known for his admiration for women and tossing around the word perfect almost to every single one he met, but you? Perfect was not enough of a word; it was not only your dazzling beauty with your star lit eyes and your addictive smile framed by those soft lips of yours, your sun kissed skin and your free hair waved by the ocean’s breeze the only thing leaving him breathless, it was your heart, your bravery and kindness that you always extended towards the people around you, your soul was even far more precious than anything Sanji had ever encountered in the vastness of the sea

It was really confusing to know that you couldn’t see what he did

An incredulous “What?”- was the only thing that slipped from his mouth at the idea of it, your eyes turning confused just as he was

“But, you’re gorgeous” Sanji expressed without hesitation, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if stating a clear fact

“You’re just saying that to be nice” he immediately shook his head repeatedly, his hands reaching to hold yours in hopes you’ll understand

“I mean it!”

“You don’t have to pretend, I know loving every woman on earth is part of who you are but be honest with me Sanji. I am not as skinny or gracious as all the girls you fawn over, I am not the kind of girl someone double takes at-“ you paused your rambling when you were met with something you had never seen before, Sanji was upset… upset with you; angry eyes piercing you in place, holding his breath hoping that the words you used to talk about yourself would stop flowing out of your mouth, he was fuming

“Sanji?” His strong grip shifted from your hands to your shoulders, blue eyes full of determination burning right into yours but not a word was spoken. The cook knew if he was to spill every thought that swam around his mind right now it would only bring to the surface his clear love for you, a feeling he had tried to bury deep down on his being and failing every time you’ll cross his line of vision; regardless, he weighs his options, you deserved better than him he said to himself but… maybe he wanted to be selfish

“Darling, it’s true… you’re not like Nami or Robin, but that’s exactly why you’re so…”- his heart jumped to his throat as he tried to get his words out, desires being held back by a thin rope about to snap.- “so perfect” Sanji’s words echoed trough the room, blush settling on top of your tear stained cheeks, but still you doubted him

“I am no-“

“Y/N!” he shook your shoulders in hopes you’ll come back to yourself

“You think I’m lying? Look!” You stood up getting away from his grip and tossing the blanket that shielded your body aside, opening your arms as you showed your bathing suit “My belly looks so bad, my thighs are huge and I have marks all over and…” your voice faded as Sanji admired you from his seat, ogling you form head to toe, his heart went from his throat to the floor reddening his face and hitching his breath

Fuck it

The cook stood up just to fall on his knees immediately after; there he was in front of you, his hands on your plum thighs as pure adoration looked back at you -“If you only knew what you do to me” your pink tinted cheeks turned red at his words and your heartbeat went wild, threatening to make your heart jump out of your ribcage. His slender hands touched your cold skin with pure devotion burning themselves into you, his eyes made another roll of your figure taking in every detail he was able to as he remained close. Sanji’s grip faltered only to move his hands around your legs, savoring the way your skin felt under his fingertips; his hands reached near your bottom making you jump immediately pulling his hands back to your thighs

“SORRY!” He exclaimed as his mind catches up with the actions of his body, hand pulling away from you leaving you cold.- “You’re just so… unreal”

There it was again, that twinkle in his eyes that made its appearance whenever he glanced at you, beaming over your insecurities and making them disappear on its wake, but why? why you? In your eyes you were just pathetic but for him… you were everything

“Sanji” you called and he answered without a doubt, raising to his feet as he awaited for your words.- “Do you mean it”

Finally, a shadow of a smile casted on your lips, melting the cook in a puddle at your feet, but he managed to not crumble because he needed to answer

“Sweetheart, theres so much more I want to say to you and nothing would be enough to show you how crazy you make me” hearing the thrumming in his chest sparked the idea to maybe just show you. Again, his hand took one of yours in his and placed in on his chest, there it was clear as day, his heart jumping around because of you… for you

You flushed at the feeling, another smile gracing Sanjis view as you thanked him in a whisper, both of your gazes staring back at each other lost on the feeling of one another, awaiting for time to take you

“I feel so much better now” taking advantage of your position, you jumped on the cooks arms, wrapping yourself on his tall frame smiling like an idiot which Sanji welcomed happier than ever, you body melting into his in a sweet hug that he would forever remember

“Glad to be of service”

—————————

This was supposed to be a prompt with several characters but I got carried away… anyways Laws version is in the making

#one piece #sanji oneshot #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece vinsmoke sanji #sanji imagine #op sanji #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #x reader #one piece sanji #fanfic #one piece fanfiction #sanji fanfic #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji

[doodle-pops]

Turn Back the Sands of Time

Feanor x daughter!reader

Request: Can I request a fic for Feanor, coming back to Valinor after hia death, finding out Nerdanel had been pregnant when he left and she gave birth to a daughter. And if possible, this daughter has Miriel's sewing gift. – anon

A/N: I took a different route to how their interaction would occur and made this quite sentimental than I intended :)

Warnings: female reader, soft angst, softness and comfort, reconciliation

Words: 2.4k

Synopsis: With the return of your father to the Blessed Realm, an attempt at rekindling what was never forged, is pursued.

“Leaving so early?”

Your mother’s voice reverberated through the morning air, clear yet carrying a stern undertone. The sun had ascended over the hills and forest, casting its benevolent warmth upon the damp, fertile earth, coaxing the crawlies to retreat to their hidden abodes.

Startled by her sudden intrusion, you jerked in surprise, twisting your neck to find your mother positioned in the doorway. Her hands firmly rested on her hips, already adorned with small flecks of clay and dust. A hasty bun confined her hair, and she wore the familiar work coveralls that marked her dedication to the tasks at hand. “Oh, you gave me a fright!” you awkwardly chuckled, your attention momentarily diverted from the contents of your basket. “I’m... heading out.”

Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floorings as she traversed the distance, positioning herself beside you. With keen observation, she watched as you hastened your packaging, attempting to conceal the contents within the basket. Despite your efforts, you weren’t as clever as you believed. However, she remained silent, extending her left hand to rest against your waist. Leaning in, she placed a tender kiss on your cheek.

“At least be safe on the road. You can borrow a few of my cloaks, they’ll keep you warm, and good luck. I cannot tell you how to decide, but when you do, know that it is something you will have to live with.”

Suddenly, she vanished through the backdoor, setting you on the arduous path to Formenos after brief stops at Tirion’s market to procure supplies. Pastries, breads, salted meats, and fruits were gathered in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness.

Alone on the road for five days, you revisited regions where you had once stealthily ventured. The surroundings were steeped in familiarity as you leisurely strolled by. The rhythmic clopping of your horse’s hooves on the gravelled road, the subtle rustling of trees and bushes, vast open fields where the wind hummed its tune, and the delightful symphony of birdsong and frog croaks accompanied your journey. Small creatures scurried at the feet of your horse, some perching on your shoulders or head. Nightfall descended, only to be swiftly replaced by the break of day, marking the conclusion of your expedition.

As you arrived at your destination, the wear and tear on the landscape became evident. Paint had faded, stones were missing from pillars and posts, wood showed signs of decay, and windows lay shattered. Face-to-face with the relentless march of time and the scars of neglect, you confronted the tangible evidence of one’s transgressions.

Dismounting from your majestic stallion, you carefully secured him to an apple tree before continuing on foot. The path led you through a gateway and into a garden adorned with a subtle array of colours—some signs of life still blossoming. Your keen eyes noticed the adjustments since your last visit, becoming attuned to the intense presence and weight that the surroundings now bore.

With each step, the gravel and dust beneath your sandals resonated against the cobblestone, creating a symphony of soft crunches until you abruptly halted before the colossal red door, proudly displaying the house sigil in shimmering gold. Tightening your grip on the basket and assuming a more composed posture, a sense of tension gripped your throat, akin to barbed wires constricting around it.

Summoning your courage, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing three times in tandem with the palpitations of your heart.

Initially, it seemed like no one was home, but an imposing presence lingered in the air, prompting you to raise your hand for another attempt. However, before your knuckles could make contact, the hinges groaned, and a towering figure emerged. A giant of an elf with fiery red hair and silvery eyes loomed before you, meeting your tentative gaze. While a hunch suggested his identity, he was not the person you had come to meet. An acute observation of his appearance left you trembling at your core.

His features were the same as the portraits hung in your mother’s workshop, a stark difference to the descriptions your uncle Arafinwë explained. There were no scars, missing ligament or whitening of his hair, but it was still enough to elicit fright in your bones. The stories were enough, running their course to remind all of his actions.

“No trespassing, this is private property. Whatever business you are conducting, take it elsewhere,” he muttered under his breath with emptiness in his eyes before shuffling to slam the door in your face.

Luckily, you stuck your hand out. “Wait, please don’t! I uh…” you fumbled and exhaled, “I came to speak with Lord Fëanáro. Is he in?”

“If you are here to lay blame on him for his actions, I would suggest that you get in line—”

Waving your hands frantically in his face, you panicked. “No, no, no, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not here for that; I’m here to simply speak with him.”

“Speak with him?” Maedhros meditated. “Did King Arafinwë send you?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief at the surprising intensity with which your own brother reacted to your simple desire to speak with his father. It was truly perplexing that, despite all that had transpired, he continued to share living quarters with Fëanáro. Your assumption that their relationship had soured after recent events was swiftly proven incorrect.

Clearly, his perspectives on Fëanáro differed significantly from yours, and he held personal convictions that he preferred to keep to himself. The intricacies of their business remained shrouded in mystery.

“Uncl—King Arafinwë did not send me, I sent myself,” you stated with pride, straightening out any fears in your posture and stretching a confident smile across your lips. “Can you tell him that a…a Lady Y/N is here to speak with him?”

The moment your name fell past your lips, you saw the micro-expression of your brother’s eyes widening before composing themselves. His stance changed from no longer blocking the entire doorway to standing aside and granting you a peek inside. You were half expecting him to make a scene, yet he proved otherwise.

Maedhros’ eyes fluttered and flickered around your frame, contemplating on his next decision. Exhaling, he stepped outside, shutting the door behind and ushered around you figure to the left of the house. “He’s situated on this side of the house. It’s quicker and less…obstructive. Follow me.” And you partially understood what he meant—the bloodstains from where your grandfather was slain, still staining the floors. However, it was the unwarranted meet-and-greet of the rest of your brothers.

You weren’t here for them, and Maedhros was kind enough to spare you.

The journey unfolded in a discomforting silence, compelling you to tighten your grip on the basket as the minutes passed. Your elder brother guided you through a labyrinth of twists and turns, eventually leading to the distant sounds of a babbling stream and the faint rustling of paper being crumpled. As you approached an archway, entwined and covered in an overgrowth of vines, the scene unfolded before you—Fëanáro, seated on a bench, holding a charcoal, and engrossed in fervent scribbling on parchment, an expression of exasperation etched across his features.

Despite the openness of the surroundings, the air felt stifling. The heavens above offered a solution to wash away the lingering muskiness, and yet, it persisted. How could anyone discover peace or find reprieve in such conditions?

“I’ll leave you to speak with him.” He offered a polite smile, and with a bow of his head, Maedhros departed, leaving you to face his father in privacy.

Acknowledging the bow with a graceful return, you redirected your attention towards the man seated on the weathered wooden bench. His appearance had undergone a noticeable transformation since your initial encounter—his once neatly tied hair now cascaded loosely, and his attire, less polished, resembled something reminiscent of what your mother wore when she was in her element. Absent were the ornate rings that had adorned his fingers, and there was a notable absence of any jewellery embellishing his clothing. In this particular moment, he existed simply as Fëanáro, the man who had seemingly returned from the realm of the deceased. The elf who had…

“How long will you linger in the shadows, child?” came his soft voice. It was much mellow that the confrontation shared with your mother.

Taking a large gulp of air, you crossed the archway, entered his space to stand at the entrance and called out. “Greetings Lord Fëanáro.”

A resounding cry escaped his lips the moment his eyes fell upon your timid figure. Joy and agony intertwined in his heart as he realized that his child had come to visit him. With a swift, almost spring-like motion, he abandoned his seat, forgetting the letter that lay there, and hurried over to stand before your magnificence. It was the first time he had a clear image of the daughter he had denied himself the knowledge of. In your features, he saw not just you but also your mother and the reflection of his eldest.

An intense yearning surged within him, a desire to reach out and grasp you, to finally experience the touch of a creation that bore no marks of his mistakes. However, hesitation gripped his mind, as the unexpected loomed overhead like ominous clouds threatening to unleash a storm. The uncertainty lingered, questioning whether the rain would be cold or warm, if it would bring wrath or peace—or perhaps an outburst of everything.

“You…” He laughed breathlessly with disbelief at the tip of his tongue. “You’re all grown up. I was told about you during my return, unsure if a meeting would occur. I had glimpsed you at your mother’s, hoping to be acquainted. Unfortunately, I had not been blessed.”

“Hm, I decided to come see you on my own after…” your voice trailed off, indicating his reunion with your mother. “Well, she had the inclination that I was coming to see you, yet she did not stop me. I wanted to hear from you on my own.”

His facial muscles engaged in a silent struggle, battling the instinct to react to every nuance of your words. His hands, twitching with the desire to pull you into a comforting embrace, held back, understanding that such a gesture might inflict more harm than healing. Your perceptions of him were coloured by his transgressions. You possessed ample reasons to maintain a distance, not just from him, but also from your own brothers.

“What is there for me to tell you when you are aware of everything, my child?” he responded with reservation.

“Why?”

Your question lingered in the air, a stain that defied any attempts at removal; not even the heavens’ rain could cleanse it.

One question. Millions of reasons. One answer, and yet, he chose to walk away with his back turned and head hung in shame. His body collided with the bench with his head in his hands facing the floor.

“What answer might I give to you that would satisfy your perspective of me?” he uttered. “You’ve heard it all; I chose the Silmarils over my family… Why you ask? Pride, maybe arrogance or my blind foolishness. I led my children into death and one by one I watched them succumb to the same madness as me.”

“But you have me who was spared from the doom. I exist, someone you can change for. Someone who can be the answer to why.” Were the words wanting to spill from your lips, however, now was not the time. There was much to be possibly kindled to know how much your words weighed.

Stepping closer to where he sat hunched, you placed the basket beside him and knelt. Your hands were hesitant to touch his, but you managed to pry them off his face. “You know, there’s a saying that ammë says,” you whispered akin to the wind, “it’s something along the lines of, ‘second chances don’t come around often, but when they do, they appear in mysterious ways. It’s only if you desire it, then possibilities will arise’. If you want forgiveness, you can start with me. Show me the you who wants better.”

Fëanáro lifted his head, his mismatch teary eyes locking on your compassionate ones. He was stunned at your sympathy when his wife would not spare him the chance. If only he had not been so foolish, the family he desired would have existed before his very eyes. “You do not truly mean your words? Your mother would not pardon me—”

“I am not ammë; your quarrel with her is between you both. I am Y/N and this is between us. I choose to try building this relationship so long as you work with me,” you corrected with confidence laced in your voice. Your eyes were stern, filled with assertiveness and the reflection of faces you’d never met. “You have to want this.”

He considered with sorrowful eyes, too fearful of repeating his past and ruining his last blessing. With deliberate actions, he shifted to sit upright and meet you head-on. “Then I make no promises...no oaths.”

“Good, because I was prepared to convince you anyway possible since I brought treats for us to indulge, and I would hate for them to waste.” Your eyes darted to the basket filled with delicacies for you both to snack on during your formal meet-and-greet. “Imagine how awkward it would be had you rejected, and I had to return with a filled basket of treats.”

“You could have left it with your brothers. I’m sure they would be thrilled to learn their sister brought treats for them.” Fëanáro felt a surge of pride at the flow of your interactions, lacking awkwardness and tension. It gave him a sense of purpose to understand that all good things were not lost.

Though his refusal to utter the words of “Thanks” remained in his heart, for he knew Eru had heard and seen his gratitude.

Snickering as you reached for the basket to produce a blanket, you threw him a whimsical side eye. “I doubt that. You should have seen how the giant redhead was staring at me. I thought I was about to be thrown like a javelin out the yard,” you giggled.

“Maitimo?”

“Ay, I thought he was going to toss me out! Though it seems that the others are here as well?”

“Would you be willing to meet them?”

“Maybe another time, I only came with enough energy to deal with you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

#feanor #feanor x reader #feanor imagine #feanor x daughter!reader #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fic #silmarillion scenario #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth fic #house of feanor #fëanor #fëanáro #curufinwë #house of finwe #feanorians #x reader insert #soft angst #angst/comfort #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, wanderer, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, mutual pining, cuddling in kazu and scara's, a bit of a confession in kazuha’s, tranquil beach scenery with kazu, scara is in his wanderer era, you travel with the wanderer, watching fireworks with xiao

summary: under the cover of an enchanting night, romance blossoms.

a/n: i love mutual pining. also, the idea of xiao and scara being soft towards only the reader makes me melt. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

Tonight, waves lap at the shore, ebbing and flowing in a steady rhythm, creating a repetitive beat — a baseline for nature’s songs. The sea reflects the darkening skies above, displays of vivid blue and violet lined with subtle shades of rose gold. Sand shifts as you walk barefoot along the shoreline with your closest friend, each grain absorbing the remnants of daytime warmth.

“KAZUHA, hurry up!” you yell, rushing ahead despite the resistance of the miniature dunes beneath you. Playful giggles fill the air as you run and Kazuha chases after you, trying his best to ensure that you remain within his sight.

“Ah, wait!” he calls back, following after you.

Although your legs carry you far, you eventually begin to pant, and your body feels far too heavy to continue on. In a single motion, you dramatically fall to the ground, thankful for the sand below acting as padding. You crash, but fortunately, you’re not injured.

Seconds later, Kazuha catches up. He stands above you, gazing down at your breathless face and smiling softly. Embers of adoration ignite in crimson eyes reminiscent of autumn leaves, burning brightly as he offers a hand to you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing one of your hands firmly. In one swift motion, he pulls you to your feet, and you nod.

“I’m fine,” you manage to say between gasps for air. You’re still tired, and you suppose you should have conserved some energy instead of attempting to run at the speed of light. However, you know you’ll recover eventually.

Kazuha stares at you for a second, irises mirroring shades of sunset flickering over your each and every feature before he shakes his head.

“You look like you need a rest,” he tells you.

He sits down on the sand and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him. You do as he instructs, and soon enough, you find yourself on the ground beside Kazuha, your shoulders nearly touching.

You glance over at him, admiring the way his snow white hair, highlighted by the dying crepuscule, billows in the sea breeze. Autumnal pools of molten rubies fill with small flecks of gold as he keeps his gaze fixated upon the tranquil sea before you. But nothing rivals the smile that comes to adorn his features — full of wonder, an encapsulation of the sun’s brilliance and the moon’s serenity.

Ethereal. That’s the word that comes to mind while you stare at the beautiful boy next to you, and yet, you fear it’s still not enough to describe him.

He’s perfect. His allure rivals that of the panoramic scenery before you.

You wish you could stay in the moment forever — or at the very least, permanently etch every last detail of today into your memory.

Soon enough, the last threads of warmth are pulled from the earth with the disappearance of the sun, and a chill begins to radiate as the cold light of the moon overtakes the sky. Every hint of marigold, coral, and canary completely vanishes. In their place, a deeper midnight blue ebbs into the heavens. As the wind passes by, you feel a slight shiver run down your spine.

And your discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you cold, my dearest?” Kazuha asks you.

The term of endearment causes a warmth to rise to your cheeks. Although affectionate words aren’t rare with Kazuha, your friend is making it sound as though the two of you are a couple.

However, your embarrassment fades as another gust of glacial fervor drifts by to steal the heat from your face, you force yourself to nod. You know that even if you lie, Kazuha will be able to see right through you. You’ve been friends for a while now, and given Kazuha’s attunement to nature, it’s nearly impossible to deceive him.

The wandering samurai wraps an arm around you, igniting a warmth akin to the caress of golden sunrays. His embrace is so warm… so comforting…

You feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and your head involuntarily falls to Kazuha’s shoulder. Slumber begins to overtake you. Tendrils of tantalization pull you deeper into a realm of oneiric euphoria, blurring out the waking world in the process.

But through it all, thoughts of the boy beside you, the one who embodies transient autumns in both looks in personality, never leave your mind.

Just as you feel yourself falling into a plane of enchanting fantasies, you hear six soft words spoken in tandem, whispered by a voice more delicate than the marine zephyrs surrounding you.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Wow, you’re really bad at this,” the WANDERER huffs. “At this rate, we’ll freeze to death.”

You can feel the Wanderer’s indigo gaze, a flawless mimic of the night sky, piercing into the depths of your soul, scrutinizing your every move. At the moment, the only illumination is provided by phantasmagoric stars dotting a canvas of murky navy and violet, but it seems to be enough for him to make out your silhouette against the surrounding shadows.

You sigh, tangible frustration permeating the otherwise serene evening air as you exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I guess I’m just tired or something.”

For a few seconds, a defeaning silence fills the atmosphere, transforming the ambience into one of awkwardness.

And then you feel the Wanderer sit down beside you.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “You’re clearly exhausted and in no state to be starting a fire.” For some reason, his tone of voice is far less pointed than usual, changing from an embodiment of everwinter storms to something more akin to a honeyed warmth — a tranquil portrait of summer’s joys.

You open your mouth to apologize again, but before you can speak, you hear grass rustling as the Wanderer stands up. Your gaze follows his barely-visible figure as he walks a short distance from where you’re sitting back to the small tent you set up earlier. He rummages around for a second before returning and draping a blanket around your shoulders.

“Don’t bother thanking me,” he says, sitting back down next to you.

Your traveling companion looks up at the star-speckled sky, and you swear you can see galaxies full of vibrant magenta and ocean blue reflected in his irises.

“Aren’t you cold too?” you ask, breaking the fragile, short-lived silence into fragments with words that echo in the midnight air, seemingly amplified in the midst of a peaceful moment.

The Wanderer simply shakes his head in response.

“There’s no need to worry about me,” he says.

And yet you still can’t help but feel guilty. You’re nice and cozy underneath the protection of a velvety blanket, safe from the frigid fingers of encroaching night. Meanwhile, the Wanderer is left to fend for himself.

What if you just share the blanket?

The idea is certainly tempting, but you’re a little too scared to follow through with it. Throughout your time with the Wanderer, you’ve gotten the feeling that he’s rather unfond of touch. After all, with his snarky attitude and unfriendly demeanor, he’s the antithesis of a cuddly person.

However, as you shift to sit in a more comfortable position, your fingers accidentally brush against his, causing you to flinch.

He’s cold. Incredibly cold.

And yet not a shiver runs down his spine.

Is he pretending to be alright for your sake?

The mere thought is enough to send another wave of warmth through your body, and suddenly, you feel less alone in the midst of enigmatic darkness. You realize that although he doesn’t outright show it, the Wanderer cares about you. Your heart flutters with the delicacy of a butterfly’s iridescent wings.

“You’re looking out for me,” you whisper under your breath. A small smile dances across your lips, and you decide to take a risk, jumping off a ledge of certainty and into an abyss filled with unknown feelings and fragile bonds.

With one swift movement, you take the end of the blanket closer to the Wanderer and wrap it around his shoulders. Now you’re sharing, and you can feel him pressing up against you. You swear you can feel the tempo of your heartbeat intensifying, each thump resounding in rapid succession.

To your surprise, the Wanderer doesn’t try to push you away. Instead, he scoots towards you.

“You don’t mind this?” you ask him, anticipating his response with bated breath.

For a second, silence fills the night, sending your mind into a polarizing frenzy and your heart into a panic. However, when the Wanderer speaks, you feel the tension leave your body.

“I don’t…” he starts, pausing briefly to consider his next words. Perhaps the surrounding darkness gives him courage, or perhaps he simply can’t suppress his feelings anymore because his next words are entirely unexpected, “but only because it’s you.”

Petals of red and gold bloom into voids of darkness, illuminating endless night in a display of phosphorescent flowers. But the sky isn’t the only thing that undergoes a stunning metamorphosis due to the luminous grace of the fireworks painting the shadows. In the edges of your vision, borders frayed from staring at the breathtaking sight before you for far too long, you catch an spark blaze alight within the honeyed amber of XIAO’s eyes. A subtle smile graces his features.

It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there.

You turn your attention to the beautiful boy beside you, absolutely captivated by the grin adorning his face. Displays of happiness from Xiao are rare, occurrences rivaling the convergence of sun and moon — a total eclipse. Your heart beats erratically, creating an exhilarating backing for a nocturne composed of the crackling of fireworks.

“You’re smiling,” you whisper.

Xiao grunts dismissively.

“Nonsense,” he says, wiping all traces of childish wonder and carefree bliss from his face. “The foolish antics of humans mean nothing to the Adepti.”

You feel the corners of your lips turn down. It’s almost like Xiao’s mood is infectious at the moment. When he’s smiling, you’re smiling, and when the euphoria fades from his expression, a certain lightness seems to vanish from the atmosphere.

“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out meek, dulled by the immense disappointment filling your heart.

You want nothing more than to see Xiao happy. Throughout your time together, you’ve grown to care about him — admittedly a little bit more than platonically — and yet despite your concerns, you feel like Xiao doesn’t share the same sentiments. Xiao doesn’t quite care about his joy as much as you do. He’s far more content with protecting you, and although his actions never fail to cause giddiness to overwhelm you, you can’t help but want to see him smile for once.

Perhaps he’s scared of shattering the cold and distant image he’s crafted, despite the fact that you already know it’s all a fragile illusion formed from jagged shards of the most delicate crystal. Deep down, you know Xiao is caring and warm, akin to a flawless summer day, complete with golden rays of sunlight beaming down at you and a honeyed caress.

It seems that Xiao has noticed the negativity radiating off of you because as you avert your gaze, staring at the wooden floor of Wangshu Inn’s balcony, you hear Xiao’s voice once again.

“Wait,” he interjects, cutting through the thick silence with a singular pointed word, sharper than a dagger constructed from the toughest of diamonds. “I… should explain myself,” he mumbles.

Although you look up once more to make eye contact with Xiao, you’re unsuccessful. Now he’s the one avoiding your stare, and he looks nothing short of endearingly shy. Gilded lamplight illuminates his features, making the sunset blush dawning on his cheeks all the more apparent to you.

“I wasn’t…” Xiao manages before pausing once more. “I wasn’t only smiling because of the fireworks,” he forces himself to say.

His words pique your interest. Although the rest of the night is exceptionally beautiful, the various acrylic hues burgeoning across a canvas painted a dark obsidian shade are the most noteworthy sights of the evening. When you try to think of anything that even closely parallels their beauty, nothing comes to mind.

“I felt at peace,” he says, his voice softening, “because you were beside me.”

You inhale sharply. The air feels far too electrifying at the moment, shocking you with an unexpected elation. You didn’t expect Xiao to be so forward, and yet, here he is, more or less telling you how much you mean to him. Many words remain unspoken, but you already know Xiao well enough to understand the weight of that one sentence.

As you glance over to the adeptus once more, a grin dances across your face. Aureate galaxies meet your gaze, sparkling with the subtlest hints of adoration.

The blush across Xiao’s cheeks only intensifies as the corners of his lips turn up once again in a shy smile.

It’s luminous. His expression, a true embodiment of equanimity and contentment, turns even the most breathtaking of fireworks more vibrant and the brightest of stars more radiant.

It’s at that moment that an epiphany strikes.

Contrary to what you had believed just moments prior, there’s one thing that rivals the stunning nature of the rainbow-infused pyrotechnics before you: the soft grin adorning Xiao’s features, accentuating each part of his face with a light brighter than that of an imploding supernova.

thank you for reading! i have a few more drafts that are close to finished, so i might post again soon (no promises though because i tend to procrastinate on my writing).

#r.archives *ೃ༄ #favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #wanderer x reader #kazuha fluff #scaramouche fluff #xiao fluff

[cvlutos]

EVEN IF WE AREN'T SOULMATES, I LOVE YOU!!

✦ | 08.12.2023 | —K | PG

✦ | Leona Kingscholar X GN!Reader |

✦ | Characters 18+ | Fluff | Poems | Soulmates | Slight Angst | Etc. |

✦ | A/N: Slowly trying to ease myself back into writing fanfic, with this. Perhaps work on some AU stuff or Yan!Kalim and OCs, but lemme start off slow |

Perhaps I’ve already met my soulmate and loved them as much as one could love.

Like wilting flowers that blossom then fade into nothing, unable to remain within his palms and turns into bitter sand. I loved them with my everything. They were mine and mine alone. My soulmate. With a love so passionate and so burning, everything that could be so right, was right. And arguments just as heated, yet filled with so much love and desire that the fight turned into nothing between heated kisses.

A soulmate with an expiration date.

There is no doubt that they were my soulmate… His hands shove into pockets and angry goodbyes are given, tears unshed until alone, anger that fizzled into heartache. He sighs, blowing out a puff of hot air. Days molding into months, and months into years. Dates that lead to nowhere and paths that truly had no meaning.

Perhaps he’ll move on.. Maybe one day, in every person he meets he’ll stop trying to find his soulmate in those new faces. Stop searching for their features, their laugh, their humor, their everything. Maybe he'll let go of the love he lost, and find something—someone to stop his desperate search for a piece he lost and can never get back.

“Leona.”

You call his name, your voice so clear and true, so different yet so enjoyable that the lion beastman eyes flutter open, awake from his nap. You are so different from them, for if they are loud, you are silent, and if they were silent, you were loud. He thought he’d never find love in you. Someone who shares no resemblance, no traits, nothing that existed within his soulmate. You are you, and they are them.

He lets out a yawn, rolling onto his side to watch you talk about whatever you wanted, moving around your shared bedroom with familiarity. Picking through his clothes that he laid haphazardly when he got undressed, tossing them into the hamper without bothering to look. Actions you've done before several times. He watches you walk, the sound of your feet pressing against the cold floors—floors you often complain about whenever you get up. There’s an invisible smile across his lips, so very familiar with this scene, to the point everyday he looks forward to it. Waiting eagerly to hear your voice, to watch you go on about your day as a silent observer.

I’ve already met my soulmate and loved them as much as one could love. He calls your name, tearing your gaze from the bathroom mirror, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth and toothpaste decorating your lips. You give a muffled ‘yes’ and the lion beastman can’t help but laugh under his breath, whatever he planned to say, he keeps it to himself. He finds love in the little moments—the simplicity that came without a rush, something he never enjoyed before.

There is no doubt that they were my soulmate…

Yet you. So different and unique you. There is no timer, no race to make every moment memorable, no chance that you’ll leave him. This is not fleeting. Your hugs do not hold fear nor restraint that one day you might not hold him again. Your eyes stare so openly honest and hold no hint of regret. There is no end.

In truth, it is a interesting thing. I loved them with my everything. And they loved me with their everything.. but what if I was nothing...

Sometimes he is nothing. Several feet from where he wants to be, from where he should be—when I am nothing, you will love me. I know you will.

And together we are something.

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

#t.manor.writings #twisted wonderland leona #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #leona twst #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst headcanons #disney twst #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader fluff

[sakkiichi]

FROM ME TO YOU.

Because good things take time and it’s not too late for happy birthdays.

ft. Albedo x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, birthday special, reader is an amateur painter.

this is just something spontaneous that I came up with… I just… kinda gave free reign to whatever flashed through my mind once I was before the blank document, parting from a very vague idea I had haha.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Autumn’s cold always arrived early in Dragonspine.

The faraway rays of a molten copper halo fuse with the peaks outlined on the horizon.

Magic is the word you’d use to describe such scenery; seconds that seemed to both be suspended in the helpless passage of time, and slip between your fingers; like golden sand inside an hourglass too small to savor every snapshot brought by the incandescence of crepuscular skies.

On instances like this, you wished your painting skills were better; if only to capture the glow of early dreams threaded through the asters of twilight.

For now, however, this will have to do.

Why did you wait until so late for this, you are unsure.

True, wishing a happy birthday to someone as the clock strikes twelve is not an uncommon occurrence.

And you’re kind of doing just that, more or less.

Except…

Well, it’s usually when the special day starts that calls are made, starlit whispers are uttered between lovers, and secret kisses are exchanged.

So you can’t help but wonder… is it too late?

For this? Or to back out now?

A sigh escapes your chapped lips, into the dimness of dusk, the stillness of frozen peaks, the stars.

Stars.

Your gaze is drawn to the easel you’ve set before you, fingertips delicately trailing over the four-point asteroids decorating a heaven made of brushstrokes.

Gold pinpricks, almost aglow beneath the darkening penombre of sundown, over a backdrop of ultramarines and indigoes, akin to sunlight over the depth of a frozen sea; a mirror image of the sky now hovering over snowy plains.

Looking up, you find a firmament of constellations. Stories, sketched in the silver flames of light years away suns, above an infinity of obscurity.

Those tales, however, had a tendency for lighting up paths that fell victim to the constant fluttering snowflakes.

“Hello, dearest.” A voice, smooth, liquid dawnlight over dewed cecilia petals, greets. “Am I late?”

The sound of crunching snow fills the fire-lit silence, the torches from his camp casting him in tepid hues.

“Albedo!” You call him, turning around.

And when you do, you swear he alone outshines every galaxy you could ever dream of rendering on canvas.

Tendrils of midnight sun and honeycomb seem to meld together in the blonde locks framing the alchemist’s porcelain-like face. Spotless, argent light from distant stars kisses his skin, fading into flecks of sparkling acacia blossoms to halo his gaze.

Summer skies.

That’s the image his eyes always evoked: clear skies, endlessly blue, over meadows to lie on, the low grass soft beneath your forms, as hands entwined and fingers pointed above, determining the shapes of the occasional cottony clouds.

What a paradox, how someone who spent his days surrounded by ice could make sparks ignite in your heart, cheeks heating up like the embers that remained after the coziness of a homey hearth.

“Is there anything you needed my help with, love?” He asks, gloved hand running its thumb over the back of yours.

Your gaze flits from your intertwined hands to his smiling lips, taking in his features in full.

“Not exactly your help.” You offer, your own lips a moon shaped brushstroke of vermillion. “I just… would like you to see something.” Your hand squeezes his, as you swing your linked hands between the both of you. “It’s your special day today, after all, isn’t it?”

Your rhetoric is met by the alchemist’s windened gaze, followed by one of his subtle smiles.

Tugging him along, you guide him to the candle lit spot where your easel is propped up.

Why are you feeling nervous all of a sudden? You internally chide yourself, biting the inside of your cheek.

Relaxing your shoulders, you turn to face your lover, gaze averted when you mumble:

“It’s not much but…” You scuff one of your boots on the dirtied snow. “I just… I remembered your painting, ‘You and I’ and… well… you know… I…” Your lids close, your nose scrunched up in that way he always found utterly endearing. “I wanted to make a painting for you too!” You finally sputter, stepping aside so he can see your masterpiece.

From that moment on, Albedo would forever believe no starry night could ever come close to capture the sheer magic of your art.

Gilded speckles abound in your make-believe heavens, each of them a shade slightly different than the previous one. They rest against a backdrop of cyans, accentuated in baby blue around your handmade constellations, the piece’s finale, a violet horizon. Outlined against it, two figures seem to dance, their happy ending created by them, rather than foretold by the celestial bodies staring in envy at a proximity that doesn’t burn, but warms and completes.

“I know it’s not the best but-“

“It’s perfect.” Is the kreideprinz’s awestruck answer, as his svelte hands hover over the frame. “You’re perfect, [Y/n].” He blurts, still staring at your work.

Then, he meets your eyes again. Your face is in his tender hold, a fleeting frosted kiss landing on your lips.

“I love it.” He assures. ‘I love you.’ His dilated pupils confess.

“‘From me to you’. Its title.” Your hand reaches up, resting on top of his. “You know… I hope you didn’t think I had forgotten about today… I just… kinda wanted this to be your last memory of your day.”

With that, both your gazes fuse in a watercolor of each other’s lips, of the anticipation of feeling them against your own.

“Happy birthday, Bedo.” You utter, before leaning in.

And then, the night, the snow, the starshine, all fade away, in a myriad of rose colored frenzied blazes. Your hands lost in the ash blonde strands at his nape; his, pulling you closer by the waist. Your kiss is a nebula of pulsating light, undimmed by even the most ruthless blizzards, lighting up the ebony of the pines obscuring the moonlight. Frozen air is exhausted in your lungs, but you don’t care right now, not when you’re kissing your prince charming under the lights of an aurora that’s still hours away.

A few moments pass, with the stars orbiting marking the approach of midnight.

A snow-kissed breeze caresses both your faces when you part, causing a shiver to rake through your body.

Your prince’s arms wrap around you.

When you look at him, matching chuckles fill the night air.

Moments like this were worth waiting all day for.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #albedo x reader #albedo x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #albedo x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact scenarios #albedo imagines #albedo fluff #genshin x reader fluff #genshin impact fanfics #albedo fanfic #genshin impact oneshots #albedo x reader fluff #genshin impact #albedo #genshin albedo #albedo genshin x reader #albedo genshin impact

[kkaleidos]

as fate, not coincidence

assigning them a selection of romance quotes that make me want to rip my hair out

featuring. ayato, childe, cyno, xiao ( separate )

notes. sfw, reader’s gender is not really specified ? written in lowercase, not proofread ( my apologies )

— admin sunny 🪼

KAMISATO AYATO.

“it could never be a mistake to love you. loving you is a privilege. an honor i don't take lightly, and i want to keep on loving you every single day, for the rest of my days.” — so that happened; katie bailey

a quiet promise under the moonlight. he gently holds onto the tips of your fingers, forehead brushing against your own as the light bathes you in sterling silver. there is something different about him when you are away from the eyes of the public, his shoulders are lax, his eyes soften. it’s a look that is reserved only for you, fluttering under the hours of midnight as you press gentle kisses against the corners of his lip.

sometimes, he feels like a comet pulled into your orbit. the warmth of your touch melts away the formal coating of his exterior, and he would let you pull the heart right out of his chest if only you wanted to. but you don’t, instead you kiss him like he is made of fine porcelain. and in turn, he holds you with all the care in the world, as if you hold the entire universe in the palms of your hands.

if only he had the power, he would bring you the stars and trace the lines of every constellation that reminded him of you into the hold of your gravity.

and when the sky finally clears and the world finally fades to a low hum, ayato is there to finally let the gears in his head stop turning. and only with you does he finally let his heart pulse instead.

CHILDE.

“i can’t say that i understand love, or that i’m very good at it, because i’ve never loved anyone before. but i love everything about you. everything. i don’t intend to stop loving you, and i hope that somewhere deep inside, you still love me, too.” — finale; stephanie garber

it’s as if the earth has fractured beneath his feet. childe is not clueless, and maybe, he understood the risks from the very beginning. he’s surrounded by waves, stranded on an iceberg lost at sea as they crash and roar like the storms of inazuma.

and so, he draws back, removing himself from your life. or so he tries — retracting his hands when he feels himself reaching out to you, turning his eyes away when you meet his gaze, pulling back when he’s aware of just how close he is to you.

it doesn’t work, of course it doesn’t. because he could never truly stay away from you. sometimes, he thinks the world is playing a cruel trick on him. you, who continued to stay by his side even through his questionable work, even through the past deceit and wall of lies. how could someone like you, someone who was nothing but good, someone who was beloved by everyone. what could someone like you possibly see in him?

you berate him as soon as that question escapes his lips. he says it like it’s a joke, but you know —you always do. he’s the one you chose, the only one you want. and when you finally pull him in for one last embrace, when the waves finally wash over him, ajax finds himself finally able to breathe.

CYNO.

“i’ve loved you all my life. you’re the love i chose. out of everyone in the world, out of everyone i’ve ever known, i chose you. at the edge of everything, love and faith have always brought me back, and back to you.” — queen of air and darkness; cassandra clare

an undying loyalty during the last breath of summer. the foliage of sumeru city never loses its color, vibrant and green throughout the four seasons.

cyno is a busy man, he is always in and out of the rainforest — traversing across the desert sand and discarded temples. but he always returns, like the promise of winter, like a blossoming camellia under the warmth of spring.

the people of sumeru never dream. a fact that has been true for years and on. but sometimes, when he is away from home, when he closes his eyes for just a second — he sees you standing there with a warm eyes and a smile that glows in the sunset.

you’re waiting for him, you always are. and cyno doesn’t waste a single second, running straight towards you and pulling you into a tight embrace. your laughter echoes through his ears, the most vibrant smile flashes your way. and when he wakes in the middle of the night, you’re still there beside him — as if he’d never left at all.

the people of sumeru never dream. he knows that from the very bottom of his heart. but what is a dream, if not with you?

XIAO.

“i am extremely picky about people. most of them, i don’t particularly like. i have very high standards for the ones i let into my life these days. and you, are my favorite of all of them. i love you best of all.” — meet me at the lake; carly fortune

he is a fawn learning to stand on its own for the very first time. clumsy, unstable, distrusting of everything and the world around him.

xiao is not afraid of anything, but he is afraid of you. or perhaps he’s afraid of the feelings you give him. a heavy heart locked behind centuries of bloodshed, he has promised himself he would never allow himself that level of vulnerability ever again.

you bring him a type of uncertainty that he doesn't quite know how to balance, and that makes him afraid. how is he supposed to keep his guard up when it's so easy for you to break past them? when all it takes is for you to press soft kisses against his callous knuckles before he becomes weak in your hold?

“does that bother you?” the question rings in the back of his mind. and he falls silent. did it bother him? that you could read him like a book? that you could tell exactly what he was thinking at any given moment? that he couldn’t seem to hide anything from you?

“no,” he finally says, spoken from the depths of his chest, “it doesn’t bother me at all.”

#: sunny 🪼 #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #cyno x reader #xiao x reader

[majestyjun]

honeymoon lover fever + kang taehyun

late afternoon honeymoon visit to the nearby beach with newly wed husband!taehyun, a loose tank top thrown on and shorts, large sunglasses over his eyes as he walks beside you hand in hand, absent mindedly fidgeting with the golden ring on your finger. a brief smirking glance over laced with love, warm tropical heat and conversations about dinner reservations… he’s keeping up… but wonder if that’s what he really wants for tonight.

salty sea breeze, the beach loaded with couples from the nearby resort, a sun setting over the water, blazing red orange streaks painted through the sky in blended streaks, taehyun’s toned arms glistening with the slightest touch of sweat, his arm casually slung over your shoulder, tugging up your hand along with it. a finger pressed to his lip briefly, as he leads you down a shady path through the beach grove, away from the crowds and into the cooler foliage, sand under his sandals and refusing to answer your questions, the casual be patient, sugar. sliding his sunglasses to rest on his head, a short walk until the tropical trees give way to a quiet cove of a beach, privately surrounded by volcanic black rocks and pristine turquoise waters.

and husband!taehyun who pats his lap, sitting down as the gentle waves brush over his sandals, long legs outstretched as his arm wraps across your waist, leaning back to enjoy the warmth of the fading sunlight, prime sunset hours. a smile on his lips as he watches you, entranced more by you than the tropical sunset,,, and lips finding your neck. soft kisses, no words, without resistance, arm tightening around your waist as you whimper, tilting your head to grant him further access, kisses deepening into subtle love bites as blossoms of red purple bruise your skin delicately. in the privacy of a quieter beach, sounds of waves, glowy sunset on your skin as taehyun tilts your face towards his, pretty love marks splotching across your neck in a possessive display, sweet kisses heightening into primal ones, his tongue prodding your lips as he bites softly into your lower lip.

breaking apart in heaving pants, taehyun’s gaze laced with lust, feeling his stiffening cock under your shorts, grip on your body tightening… and his quiet let me love you… it’s not a question, is it, love~? husband!taehyun who tugs up your shirt, hands feeling the soft plush of your tummy, tapping your chin when you shyly avoid eye contact,,, look at me, love. swollen lips and pretty eyes, warm skin on skin as he deftly removes the barriers of clothes, tossed aside on the cooling sand, the intake of breath as he gazes down at your bare body with carnal lust and desire, love glowing in his eyes as his hands smooth over your curves, don’t be shy,,, you’re his wife now, after all.

and under the fading sunlight, husband!taehyun who grips your thighs, tugging your legs around his slender waist as his and clench with every thrust, lavishing your body with his gaze, watching as your pretty tits bounce and your body clenches with pleasure, his hard cock hitting your sweet spot and cervix, deep strokes and his body leaning in to press against yours, raw lust and love exchanged over messy, saliva covered kisses. bruises on your hips from his grip, mesmerized with your every reaction and response to his love, panting out his affirmations of his love as your pussy clenches down tighter on his cock, sweet encouragements as he brings you to your high, his drawn out groan of pleasuring relief as you cum around his cock, loving the sounds of your desperate gasps and cries for his release as he climaxes, hot cum warming your body from inside as husband!taehyun cages you under his arms and body, hand clenched with yours as he fucks you through your highs, making romantic love and panted i love you’s until the sun sets on the private alcove, the cover of night disguising your limps until taehyun scoops you up into his arms with ease, brief kisses and his cum warming in your pussy as he carries you back to the resort,,, dinner in the hotel room? he doesn’t want to wait through a seven course meal to love you more, his new wife <3

husband!taehyun after countless love making sessions through the night who cradles your worn out but loved body in his arms on the balcony, night breeze and salty air, finger feeding you fresh fruits with one hand as the other rests between your legs, pushing his cum in every now and then, a slight smirk playing the smile on his face whenever you whimper softly at the throbbing soreness of your swollen cunt,,, shhh, sugar, he can’t have any go to waste, can he? open up, this one’s sweeter… and his lips pressing against yours, licking lightly to taste the sweet fruit juice on your lips before feeding you another.

aghhh tumblr please don’t delete paragraphs ;-; tried writing it in one go w/o saving hope it worked :<

#hmhmm in such a husband txt mood as always~~ #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #taehyunnie <3 #taehyun smut

[strange-august]

Tag Yourself as Aesthetics I resonate with

Changelingcore: Broken insect wings, wildflower meadows, catching tadpoles, lingering mist after it rains, wet shoes from the damp grass, the feeling of moss under your hands, collection of strange trinkets and objects, taking your stuffed animals on adventures, doodling on your clothes, busy hands, wading knee deep into a lake, screaming into the air to ease frustration, organizing and reorganizing your treasures, bird calls, animal howls, digging in the mud, chewing on your lip until it bleeds, bruises and scrapes, the urge to live in the woods and never return to regular society, knotted hair, forest shrines, putting flower blossoms in your hair, flooded swampy areas, jumping from short cliffs

Suburban Gothic: Hot muggy air sticking to your skin, the buzz of florescent lights, flickering street lights, budget popsicles, late night drug store visits, muffled arguments, an old clock ticking, guady wallpaper, gossamer curtains, dusty cotton sheets, faded quilts, dog barkings, milkshakes in an empty diner, broken windows and graffiti, abandoned train tracks, 24/7 laundromats, rusty swingsets, shadowy silhouettes, semi-abandoned malls, sounds of far off traffic and train horns, driving around at night while soft music plays on the radio, tv static, junk yards and pick-n-pulls, holding hands with a stranger, urban legends, varsity jackets, broken glass on the road, crumbling buildings, local television channels

Cuddle Party: Excited giggles and hushed whispers, condensation on drinkware, running through an empty field hollering and whooping in the dead of night, sitting on the porch in rocking chairs, drunken "I love you"s, old cartoons, classic disney movies, five dollar pizza and breadsticks, singing out loud in the car, finding new places to explore, county fairs and arcade visits, eating fair food and screaming your lungs out on rides, trying to earn as many tickets at the arcade and still winning cheap prizes, being the last one to fall asleep, casually sleeping all together in the same bed, holding hands in crowds, if one of us isn't having a good time none of us are, wondering how long these days will last

Cryptid Academia: Listening to video essays while sketching cryptids, exploring abandoned buildings (legally and illegally), pocket knives, blackout curtains, newspaper clippings, viewing the night sky through a telescope, visiting natural history or science museums, old typewriters, info dumping conspiracy theories on friends, making plans to investigate that never come to fruition, tearing yet another hole into your clothes climbing over fences, shoddily patched up clothes, keychains and aluminum pins, novelty socks, analog watches, Buzzfeed Unsolved, cryptid podcasts, sprint training so you can outrun whatever is chasing you, rubiks cubes, sore fingers from mending, thrift shopping, essays only about cryptids

Desertwave: Billowing winds, sandstorms, wind chimes and suncatchers, succulents in handmade clay pots, aloe vera plants on the kitchen windowsill, the distant howl of a coyote, faded winnebagos, the soft hiss of patio misters, campsites and trailer parks, large rock formations covered in graffiti, picking up trash, the crackle of a bonfire, cacti and joshua trees in the backyard, never getting the sand completely out of your shoes, dusty clothes, laying in a hammock watching the stars, water balloon fights, hot springs, mexican ice cream bars, rocky desert mountains, plots of sand and plants that stretch on as far as the eye can see

#tag yourself #types of people #aesthetic #changelingcore #suburban gothic #desertwave #cuddle party #cryptid academia #mine #augies-posts

[mn-light]

Promise II

Rayne Ames X reader

Part I, II

･ﾟﾟ･｡ The mission that day was supposed to be routine, just like any other they had undertaken before. But as they delved deeper into the heart of the enemy's territory, danger lurked around every corner, waiting to strike with deadly precision.

You and Rayne moved in sync; your steps were measured and purposeful as you navigated the treacherous terrain. The air crackled with tension, each breath you took heavy with anticipation and dread.

Suddenly, without warning, chaos erupted around you. Enemies materialized out of the shadows, their dark magic swirling around them like a malevolent fog. Rayne's voice cut through the chaos, a beacon of strength in the midst of the storm.

"Stay close," he commanded, his tone firm and unwavering as he raised his wand in defense. But even as he fought with all his might, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, a silent fear that threatened to consume him whole.

You fought alongside him, your own magic flaring to life as you unleashed a barrage of spells against your foes. But the enemy was relentless, their attacks growing more ferocious with each passing moment.

In the heat of battle, disaster struck. A blast of dark energy slammed into you with brutal force, sending you crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and agony. The world blurred around you, pain blossoming like a wildfire across your body as you struggled to regain your bearings.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, you felt Rayne's presence beside you, his voice a distant echo in the chaos. "Stay with me," he urged, his words a lifeline in the darkness threatening to consume you.

But try as you might, you couldn't hold on. Darkness crept into the edges of your vision, dragging you down into its cold embrace as everything faded away into oblivion.

In that moment, as the darkness claimed you, a sense of despair washed over Rayne like a tidal wave. He watched helplessly as you slipped away from him, his heart shattering into a million pieces at the sight of your pain.

Rayne refused to abandon you. With desperation gripping his heart, he knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your cheek.

"Don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, stay with me."

But the darkness was relentless, its icy tendrils tightening around you with every passing moment. Rayne's heart shattered as he watched helplessly, his own magic pulsing with a frantic intensity as he tried to hold back the encroaching shadows.

"I won't let you go," he vowed, his voice raw with anguish. "I'll fight for you, no matter what it takes."

With a fierce determination burning in his eyes, Rayne poured every ounce of his strength into shielding you from harm, refusing to give up even as hope threatened to slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

And in that moment of despair and uncertainty, Rayne clung to the fragile thread of hope, praying for a miracle that would bring you back to him, safe and whole once more.

#rayne ames #mashle #Rayne x reader

[kanbockoida]

Third time’s the charm.

Lucifer x fem!Reader x Adam

Warnings: none

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Who would have known that getting to know the person you’ll be getting married to is such an exhilarating experience? All was well ever since Y/N was created. They both agreed to take it slow, step by step to get to know each other. Everything felt so natural.. so right.

Adam actually put effort into everything he did for her, building trust on every occasion just so he could call her his girlfriend. That fateful day had come rather quickly, yet it didn’t run down how he had planned. A sweet dinner date in a comfortable restaurant, nothing too extravagant, just two souls coming together. He had planned to ask her out by the end of the date, a whole small speech prepared..

What he didn’t expect was for Y/N to take the initiative of confessing to him, putting her whole heart into each little word that she said to him. She took hold of his hands, a gentle yet nervous smile stretching itself across the angel’s face. “I know that I was made for you, but you said that I had a choice in this matter. These past few months have been so wonderful and there is nothing else I could possibly wish for. I know I haven’t known you for long, nor have I been alive for a long time.. But what I do know is that I care for you from the bottom of my heart. I want to spend my life with you, Adam..”

Her words were soft and so sincere, how could anyone ever say no? She took a moment to compose herself, growing a little nervous herself. Reddened cheeks and glistening eyes.. Adam was head over heels for that woman, he was sure of it. A part of him however thought all of this was a dream, so lightly biting the inside of his cheek felt like a good idea at the time. After a few moments, those words finally hit him which caused his heart to skip multiple beats.

He felt.. happy. Despite Y/N taking his opportunity, he felt the purest form of joy. Finally having gathered what he wanted to say. Having been alone for such a long time did some things to him. He wasn’t as prideful as before. He still was, but he’s not being a complete dick about it. Still holding her soft hands in his, he gave them a soft squeeze. “Spending the rest of eternity with you sounds like a blessing to me.”

The rest of the night went by wonderfully, ending it with a gentle kiss initiated by Adam himself. Just before they parted ways for the night, the first man pulled the woman into a tender hug, one of his hands holding her waist as the other so lovingly caressed her cheek. Y/N could only smile, snaking her arms around the back of his neck.

“What did you enjoy the most today, little flower?” His voice was smooth, gentle.. and yet so vulnerable at the same time, wings shuddering as he felt her arms around him.

“Getting to fall in love with you, my heart.”

Leaning in slowly, he closed the gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a tender, tentative kiss.Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, the world around them fading away until there was nothing left but the sensation of their lips moving together in perfect harmony. In that moment, all of their doubts and fears melted away, replaced by a feeling of pure bliss and contentment.

To them it seemed as if they were the only two beings in the entire universe, even after they broke away to gaze into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“I’ll.. see you tomorrow?” His voice was shaky, face red from their first kiss.

"Definitely.” She replied, placing one last kiss upon his lips as a good night.

Ever since that fateful night their love had only blossomed, and Adam had finally found the courage to take his beloved onto another date.. a lovely date on a beach underneath the starry sky. During that date however, he had planned something big. An act that will finally consider them as one.

The beach was a canvas painted with the ethereal glow of the moon, its radiance bathing the sand in a celestial embrace. Adam and Y/N walked hand in hand, their souls entwined amidst the symphony of the night—the whispering sea, the rustle of palm trees, and the enchanting melody of the stars, Adam's heart raced with anticipation as he led Y/N to a secluded alcove, where the moon cast its spotlight upon the ocean's edge, igniting the scene with a fiery passion. With each step, his love for Y/N burned brighter, a flame that threatened to consume him in the most beautiful way possible. "Y/N," Adam's voice trembled with raw emotion as he turned to face her, his eyes ablaze with a love that knew no bounds. "In your presence, every moment feels like a dream—a dream I never want to wake from." He dropped to one knee, the sand beneath him a sacred altar upon which he would lay bare his heart. "My love, you are the fire that warms my soul, the light that guides my path. With you, I have discovered a love so pure, so profound, it defies the limits of this world." Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she beheld the passion in Adam's eyes, her heart racing in harmony with his. "Adam..." she whispered, her voice a soft melody that stirred his very core. "Tonight, under this mesmerizing sky, I ask you this," Adam's voice resonated with an intensity that echoed across the expanse of the universe. "Will you be my partner in adventure, my confidante in darkness, and my beacon of light in times of joy? Will you marry me, and embark on a journey of passion, love, and boundless devotion?"

A single tear trailed down the woman's cheek as she gazed into Adam's soul, her heart bursting with the magnitude of their love. "Yes, Adam," she declared, her voice a symphony of passion and desire. "A thousand times yes!"

With trembling hands, Adam slipped the ring onto Y/N's finger, a symbol of their unbreakable bond forged in the fires of passion and sealed beneath the radiant gaze of the moon. And as they embraced amidst the celestial splendor, their love blazed brighter than the stars themselves, a testament to the timeless power of a love that knows no bounds. Two hearts have become one and the same.

As the years went by, Adam and Y/N were basically one. The years went by rather quickly, sharing secrets along the way. Somewhere in the two thousand year mark, Adam had revealed what his job was, explaining the reason for the exterminations and so on. To his surprise, Y/N didn’t overreact. Sure, she was shocked that heaven would do something like that, but that was about it. Some thought it was crazy how such a woman could love a man like Adam, but her response was always the same. “He’s cute and makes me laugh.” There’s no other explanation needed.

Slowly but surely, doing nothing but being Adam’s darling wife bored the living daylights out of her. Sure, Y/N loved her husband more than life itself, but she wanted to do something. It took some convincing to make Adam agree as to why she wanted to work. Her darling husband however was weak when it came to her, so he agreed rather quickly with only one condition. Y/N had to work in the same department, so to say. The following day Adam had kept his promise, talking to the head Seraphim to get his wife some work to do. Her job was to handle the paperwork of the exterminations, which is a lot more than one might think. Adam was pouty the whole way home, but with a little bit of loving all was well not even a few minutes later. The couple enjoyed the rest of their night together, whispering sweet nothings to one another, which resulted in them falling asleep in each other’s arms. There is nothing that could ruin their happy life.

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #adam x reader

[minachan95-written-works-on-ao3]

Title: Fading Blossom in the Sand (Chapter 18)

Pairing: Kyo x Iori, MaleOC x Cannon character(one-sided)

Characters: Kyo Kusanagi, Shingo Yabuki, Iori Yagami, Chizuru Kagura, Dr.Makishima, Male Original Character, Leona Heidern, Yukari, female!Kyo Clone

Rating: 18+ (Rape, non-con, tentacles, tentacle rape, dubcon, blackmail, NTR/Netorare/cheating, slow burn)

Summary: It’s 24XX, one of Resistance Force members, Kyo, was sent to investigate abandoned NESTS spaceship. The very little he would know that this place is not so lonely…

AO3 Link

A week has passed.

As soon as the detailed examination results showed up, they were delivered to the commander. Thus, after the meeting, the commander decided that Kusanagi’s clones did not pose any threat to the Resistance Force.

However, while the female replica was safe to leave the Medical Unit, the male one had to remain under the supervision of the medical staff until he was ready to be trained as a soldier.

Starting today, the female Kyo’s look-alike has officially become a member of the Resistance Force and received the title of Private Kyoko.

Meanwhile, for Iori, it is a long-awaited day as well. After all, he can finally progress his plans further.

But for now, he finishes preparing for tonight’s departure.

“Hopefully, that idiot won’t forget about the meeting nor do anything reckless.” Or so the redhead murmurs when he picks up his light saber.

As he stares at it, he softens his gaze. “You better be not dead. So, wait for me for me, Kyo ... Just a bit longer, and I’m coming for you.”

Lastly, he attaches his trustworthy weapon to his belt.

___________________

Some time passes. It is already a late night. After a while, the redhead reaches the port. However, when he looks around, he notices that there is no sign of one certain brunette yet.

But for now, he leans his back against the nearest wall. After he picks a pack of cigarettes from his uniform jacket, he lightens one.

Another few minutes pass. Soon enough, one certain brunette shows up. “There you are. So, what did you want to show me so badly, Yagami?”

As Iori steps on the burnt cigarette, he states. “We’re leaving.”

Kyoko only widens her eyes and raises her eyebrow. “Where?”

“We’re going to visit your father and your original,” Yagami explains while keeping his hands in his pants pockets and approaching the nearest spaceship.

While she follows her partner, she objects. “What you mean by that? But what about Nii-sama? Dad might be upset if I won’t bring him.”

“That’s his problem.” Iori backfires.

‘If anything, he should be afraid for his life and god forbids it if he was one of these bastards who hurt Kyo.’ Or so the redhead thinks while clenching his palm into a fist and momentarily baring his fangs.

After exhaling and lowering his shoulders, he adds. “Your brother is still too weak to go with us. So, you can tell this to your father. Besides, if he is such a kind person as you claim, he should understand you. Don’t you think so?”

At first, the brunette steps back while giving a questioning look. Yet, she follows Iori and nods.

That’s right, during her stay in the Resistance Force, Yagami used to visit her in the Medical Unit every day. Despite these being short ones, it strangely brighten up her day.

Thus, eventually, she started to trust the redhead and noticed that he didn’t mind that much when she tried to tease him.

________________

After getting into the spaceship, Iori allows Kyoko to sit in the pilot seat while she turns her head and stares at him.

As the redhead sits down next to her, he asks. “Why are you staring at me like this? You should know better where is your father than me. Unless he didn’t tell you how to return home and wanted to get rid of you.”

“You’re wrong! Dad would never do this. Just you wait ‘til you meet him.” The brunette indignantly replies.

Iori only rolls his eyes and points at the display panel with his palm. “Go on and prove to me I’m wrong.”

While Kyoko enters the needed coordinates, she complains. “But thanks to you, I won’t be able to contact him. So, how he’ll know that I’m coming to see him?”

When they finally depart from the Resistance Force, Kyoko sits back and frowns. “Besides, based on what I’ve seen so far, I’m surprised that you rely on a piece of clothing that has zero protection instead of having body armor. You also use such primitive weapons. And I’m not talking about the outdated technology in your base… It’s still amazing how you survived that long.”

Instead of saying anything, Yagami removes the sound transmission device from behind his ear and passes it to the female replica. “Here. Even if it’s an old model and not whatever you used, at least the Empire or anyone else won’t be able to listen to you.”

While Kyoko studies the small device, the redhead’s question makes her turn back. “What’s wrong? Now you can call your oh-so-precious father. Or you don’t know how to use it?”

“Of course, I know! …I think.” The brunette immediately responds.

“Let me give you a hint. You need to scroll the switches until you set to your wanted frequency. Then, if you want to hear anything, put it behind your ear,” Iori explains while he relaxes in the chair and crosses his arms.

Meanwhile, Kyoko carefully follows the instructions and remarks. “It’s a pretty primitive-looking thing. However, I saw something like this lying around in Dad’s room. In any case, hopefully, he is not busy...”

Lastly, Iori closes his eyes and exhales. For now, he waits until they arrive at their destination place, where Kyo is imprisoned.

At the moment, he isn’t much concerned that whoever created this clone would pick up their signal to lure them into a trap.

That’s right, someone bred these replicas for the Empire, and the one sitting next to him might have been not an exception.

More so, she is as naïve as a child creature who would betray him without any sense of guilt or a second thought and wouldn’t understand what she has done.

On the other hand, it’s not important right now. After all, Yagami’s determination to see his long-time partner is stronger than anything.

Even if they are greeted by the armed forces, Iori will unleash his blade and fight anyone until either he or the enemy remains on the field.

He’ll even challenge the Death itself or the entire world if that’s the only way to get to Kyo. Or so the redhead ponders while observing the vast of the never-ending universe through the front window.

______________________

A couple of hours have passed. Thus, the Resistance soldiers finally arrived at their destination place.

The only light source that touched this land was from the spaceship, which revealed a grim and neglected scenery by mankind for years.

Judging from the empty, spacious area surrounded by the dark mist, it was used as a parking area.

But for now, when they step on this strange land, Iori turns on the flashlight and passes it to his partner. “What are you waiting? Show me the way. Or did you think you would trick me into going to the middle of nowhere?”

“Why would I? Dad taught to me to never lie or hide anything from him. Besides, how else I would prove him that Nii-sama is alright? That’s why you need to stay close to me because dad warn me that if you get lost here, no one will help you.” The brunette replies while keeping an eye on Yagami.

As they go deeper into the never-ending darkness, Kyoko explains. “It shouldn’t be far from here. So, we should reach the backdoor of the lab facility where dad works for the evil people. However, I wonder if he is doing fine or if he knows that we’re here…”

Of course, the redhead could tell her why her oh-so-adored father didn’t bother to pick up the signal. However, it would be as pointless as asking the wind not to blow.

More importantly, it may be wiser not to agitate or to stress this replica and play along with her, no matter how ridiculous her world is painted by whoever made her.

For now, Iori closes his eyes and sighs. “I’m sure that he is doing something important.”

In the end, the brunette’s face lightens up, and she nods. “That’s right!”

A second later, she proudly adds. “Perhaps right now he is waiting for me. So, you better be prepared to show him no less than respect when you see him.”

Lastly, Iori only rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

______________________

After a while, their path becomes brighter. As the female clone of Kyo promised, she kept her word. Thus, soon, they reached the poorly lightened iron gate.

Meanwhile, Kyo only crosses her arms and holds her chin while staring at the pin code panel close to the door.

“What’s wrong? Have you forgotten the password?” Iori asks.

For sure, the redhead’s question makes her turn her head. Yet, she lowers her gaze. “Dad never told me.”

Yagami only indifferently addresses his partner. “And what are you suggesting to do next? Wait until anyone will unlock for us?”

“That’s right.” The brunette briefly answers.

For now, Iori steps forward and pushes Kyoko to the side. “Move.”

A second later, he picks up and lightens his saber blade. After he turns his head, he adds. “Or do you wish to be sliced into pieces?”

“What are you?-” The brunette speaks up before her voice is cut off when Yagami unleashes a powerful strike.

A slash after a slash, and Iori kicks out the cut door.

As soon as the sirens howl and the white corridors flash in crimson, he grabs the stunned brunette’s arm and announces. “We’re going in. Stay close to me or else you’ll meet your father faster than you think. ”

In the end, Yagami storms in through the gateway to hell.

__________________

Meanwhile, in one of the researchers’ rooms. One silver-haired professor is about to doze out before finishing working on the papers.

Suddenly, his guard is caught by the loud sirens and the robotic voice warning. “EMERGENCY ALERT! EMERGENCY ALERT! A GROUP OF TERRORISTS ARE ROAMING FREE IN ISOLATION UNIT!”

After Professor Kurama pushes the chair away and stands up, he fixes his glasses and delightfully smiles like a fox. “My... it was a matter of time before the inevitable happens.”

Just before taking his leave, he adds. “Looks like Miss Fortune favoring us, Kusanagi-kun.”

Despite the midst of the panic and chaos, he walks with noble elegance until someone rushes into him.

“The hell you’re doing? Don’t just stand here!” The senior scientist yells at him.

While the silver-haired male keeps his hands in the medical coat’s pockets, he pulls the pistol and pulls the trigger.

With a bang, the middle-aged scientist’s life thread is cut, and his dead body hits the ground.

For now, Kurama squats and searches that man’s pockets. “Please, you do not need to worry about me.”

When he picks up a key card and puts it into his pocket, he stands up and addresses the corpse. “On the other hand, I would be very grateful for this.”

In the end, the professor heads towards the facility where one test subject is kept before he is sent off to the Imperial Army.

And thus, the great race with time begins in which only one side can succeed.

----------------------------

Chapter 1 Link

Chapter 17 Link

Chapter 19 Link

#kof #king of fighters #kyo kusanagi #shingo yabuki #iori yagami #chizuru kagura #dr.makishima (king of fighters) #male oc #leona (king of fighters) #yukari mitsumine #serial #wip #fading-blossom-in-the-sand #alternate universe #science fantasy

[escapingrealityforamoment]

Inspired by Taylor Swift's "Snow on the Beach," Conrad finds himself enchanted by Y/N's ability to find beauty in unexpected moments. As they dance in the rare snowfall on the beach, he realizes their love is as magical and unique as the scene before them.

Conrad’s POV

The waves crashed against the shore, their rhythm matching the beat of my racing heart. The beach was an unlikely place to find snow, but as I watched Y/N twirl in the sand, her laughter filling the air, it felt like magic was swirling around us.

I had always been captivated by Y/N's spirit, her ability to find beauty in unexpected places. And here we were, standing on a beach covered in snow, a symbol of the extraordinary connection we shared.

As Y/N reached out her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes, I couldn't resist. I took her hand in mine, and together we danced in the snow, leaving footprints behind as a testament to our love.

In that moment, time stood still. The world around us faded away, leaving only Y/N and me, lost in our own little snow-covered paradise. We laughed, we spun, and we let the pure joy of the moment wash over us.

As we lay on the cold sand, side by side, Y/N's hand nestled in mine, I couldn't help but be filled with a sense of wonder. How had I been so lucky to find someone who brought warmth and light to even the coldest of days?

The snowflakes fell around us, delicate and ethereal, just like Y/N. Each one was unique, just as our love story was. And as we watched the snow blanket the beach, I knew that our love was something rare and beautiful.

Y/N turned to me, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and tenderness. She leaned in, her lips meeting mine in a soft, snow-kissed kiss. It was a moment of perfect harmony, a merging of our souls in a snow-covered embrace.

As we sat there, our bodies wrapped in a shared blanket, I knew that this day would forever be etched in my memory. It was a day where the impossible became possible, where love and snow coexisted on a beach, and where Y/N and I discovered that even in the most unexpected moments, love could blossom.

In that wintry wonderland, with Y/N by my side, I realized that love was like snow on the beach—a rare and beautiful occurrence that defied logic and melted the barriers of the ordinary. And as we watched the snowflakes continue to fall, I knew that this love was a gift, a treasure to be cherished for all the seasons to come.

#conrad x reader #conrad fisher x reader #belly x conrad #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #tsitp season 1 #tsitp #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp x you

[lanasblood]

𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘 | Prologue

pairing: neteyam x f!reader

summary: after fate brought you to awa’atlu and you felt hope for the first time in so long, the sea became the lonely witness of a bittersweet love, making you quickly realize how life withers as fast as it blossoms. [takes place five years after the events of atwow, neteyam is alive]

warning: this story will make you cry. read at your own risk. 

read first chapter →

voice-over by @neteyamfromwish (scroll down for details) 🔊 volume up + use headphones for best experience 🎧✨

note: I am excited to announce my upcoming neteyam mini-series. special thanks to @eclipseatsea​ who gave me the courage and motivation to publish this poem as an intro for the story. she’s such an inspiring person, make sure to check out her beautiful writing if you haven’t already 💕

and again, thank you @neteyamfromwish for being so kind as to complete my request. I don’t know about you guys but I’m in love with this audio, it fits the story and the mood perfectly. for more info, check his website. I highly recommend giving it a try!! the accuracy to neteyam’s voice is chef’s kiss, and I cannot wait to share more with you ✨

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 💗

୨⎯ series masterlist ⎯୧

(in case the video doesn't work, i'll leave you the poem here):

for even in the darkest of times, the moons and stars, they always gave you signs. 

with each passing night, you learned more, of the art of loving and losing, and what else was in store. 

back then, the gentle beat of his heart by your side,  comforted you like a river, making calm and serenity collide. 

that night's bright light did glow, with a slender crescent in tow, along with stars above the green trees’ crown,  the deserted sand illuminating on its own. 

the shadows of his lashes long, cast upon his blue cheeks, so strong, the constellation of freckles, like little diamonds,  his beauty almost ethereal to be described by words. 

though you had known him for years, you never looked at him with such conscious fears,  his exhaustion was evident to see, the cuts on his shoulder, the wounds on his knee,  his chest held an elongated scar, that reminded you of the one on his hand so far,  you tried to avert your eyes, but failed, and let yourself sink back, blanket well-veiled. 

a tattered poetry book, a relic of his father’s past,  that you gently reached for, its words meant to last,  the old paper, faded and so rough, the letters, black ink, good enough. 

all I loved, I loved alone, the last words written, all unknown, you knew not much about poetry or rhyme,  but the words cast a spell that stole your time. 

staring out at the endless sea, counting sheep,  with tears in your eyes, you finally found some sleep. 

stars die softly, he had once said with a sigh,  wishing people could do the same, quietly passing by. 

but you wished no one would die and no death would ever come near,  not on nights like this, neither now nor here. 

© 𝖫𝖠𝖭𝖠𝖲𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖮𝖣 2023 — please do not copy, modify, steal, or translate any of my works on any platform.

#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam #neteyam x omatikaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully imagine #boyfriend neteyam #enemies to lovers #star-crossed lovers #sorrows for starboy series #neteyam x y/n #protective neteyam #cocky neteyam #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water imagine #atwow neteyam imagine #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #atwow imagines #atwow x you #atwow x reader #atwow neteyam #adult neteyam #neteyam audio #neteyam asmr

[misshoneyimhome]

「5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣ FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION」

Other notes; So, I know this was simply supposed to be a mood board, but I just couldn't help myself 🤍 I do still hope you enjoy it @laurenairay 🤗 Lots of love to our favourite fridge! And thank you for participating in my party ❤️

Trope; friends to lovers

Word count; 614

_

“You say we’re just friends - but friends don’t know the way you taste” I Freddie Andersen 📸🌺

I love it when you call me señorita I wish I could pretend I didn't need ya But every touch is ooh, la-la-la It's true, la-la-la

The beach teemed with the vivid colours of the setting sun, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, creating a soothing melody that seemed to sway with the gentle breeze.

You and your best friend Frederik Andersen strolled along the water's edge, the sand warm beneath your feet. It was a familiar sight, one you had shared countless times before as friends. But tonight felt different, charged with an electricity you couldn't quite explain.

As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way Freddie's hand brushed against yours with every step, sending tingles racing up your arm. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes, igniting a spark of something new and unfamiliar between you.

"You know," Freddie broke the comfortable silence, his voice soft and thoughtful, "everyone always thinks we're dating."

You chuckled, the sound blending with the gentle lapping of the waves. "I know, right? It's like we're practically inseparable."

Freddie nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I don’t mind it, you know…” he continued, his tone a little more serious now, "although I know we're just friends."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through you. Could it be that Freddie felt the same way you did?

But before you could dwell on the thought any longer, Freddie stopped suddenly, turning to face you with a determined look in his eyes.

"Let's go for a swim," he suggested, gesturing towards the water. "It's the perfect way to end the day."

You nodded eagerly, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. So together, you waded into the cool, refreshing waves, the saltwater enveloping you in its embrace.

And as you swam further out, the sky above transformed into a canvas of vibrant colours, casting a warm glow over everything it touched. It was a moment of pure magic, and you found yourself lost in the beauty of it all.

But as the water deepened, a sense of vulnerability crept over you, the vastness of the ocean stretching out endlessly around you. You glanced at Freddie, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your mind.

"It's getting deep," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Freddie was already beside you, his steady presence grounding you in the midst of the unknown. Without a word, he wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you close against his chest.

"It's okay," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "I've got you."

And in that moment, with the sun sinking low and the water enveloping you both, something shifted between you. The line of friendship blurred, and all at once, you were acutely aware of the closeness between you.

As if drawn by an invisible force, your face came closer to Freddie's, your eyes locking with his. In that silent exchange, everything changed.

And then, without a word, Freddie gently closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was like coming home, a feeling of completeness washing over you as you melted into each other's embrace.

The world around you faded into insignificance as you lost yourself in the moment, the only thing that mattered the warmth of Freddie's touch and the love that blossomed between you.

Then pulling apart, you had to gasp for air. "You say we're just friends," you murmured, your voice trembling with emotion, "but friends don't know the way you taste."

“I know… so maybe we’re not just friends.” 

And just like that, you leaned in and captured his lips in another kiss, sealing the unspoken promise of a future filled with endless possibilities. 

#5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣ celebration #frederik andersen imagine #freddie x reader #freddie andersen #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl imagines

[theetherealbloom]

NOTRE DAME - CH. 1

Chapter 1: At Least I’m Looking Down

Summary: In the rafters of Clinton Church, a mysterious reader with the power of illusion manipulation silently watches over Matt Murdock, the blind vigilante known as Daredevil. As danger engulfs Hell's Kitchen, their unlikely friendship blossoms into a bond of trust and longing, intertwining their fates in a battle against darkness that tests their resolve. In a city of darkness, will their connection illuminate a path to salvation or lead them deeper into the abyss?

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt to Comfort, ANGST, friends-to-lovers, Religion, Fluff, Anxiety, PSTD, Nightmares, Catholic Guilt, Amnesia, Violence, Blood, Dark Undertones, Eventual SMUT,

Word Count: 8K

A/N: Hiya! Yep, I love Matt Murdock too! Lowkey took a small break from writing since I was getting overwhelmed with life ;-; I was inspired to try writing about Matt by these lovely authors @courtforshort15 and @bellaxgiornata <3 Am I writing two fic series at the same time? YEP. It’s going to be a very busy summer for me :>

Song: notre dame by Paris Paloma

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

dividers @/saradika-graphics

HELL’S KITCHEN, CLINTON CHURCH – NIGHT

As you diligently clean the hallowed halls of Clinton Church, your sweeping broom becomes a rhythm that lulls you into introspection. Memories flicker like shadows, teasing your mind, fragments of a past shrouded in mystery.

Amidst the dimly lit corridor, a whisper of a recollection dances on the edge of your consciousness. A stormy night, with rain and gunshots mingling with thunder. But the details remain elusive, like shards of a shattered mirror reflecting only fragments of truth.

With each stroke of the cloth, another piece of memory surfaces. An explosion of blinding light, a surge of energy, and a sensation of weightlessness. You were suspended in time, caught in a transformative moment that forever changed you.

Heart racing, you struggle to grasp the images. A younger version of yourself, eyes wide with wonder and fear amidst the chaos. But who were you before that night? What led you to that pivotal moment?

Memories slip through your fingers like grains of sand, but faint impressions remain. Faces and voices haunt you, leaving you with a longing for answers. Father Lantom, a guiding presence of solace, and Sister Maggie, a beacon of compassion within the church walls.

As you continue your tasks, the fragments fade once more, leaving unanswered questions lingering in your mind. But you find solace in the belief that one day, the scattered memories will converge, revealing the truth you seek.

Amidst the quiet diligence of your cleaning, a gentle tapping sound breaks through the stillness, drawing your attention. Your gaze shifts, and you find yourself captivated by the sight of Matt Murdock gracefully making his way toward the confessional booth. The name alone carries a weight, one that has reached your ears through the whispers of Father Lantom and Sister Maggie. With each step he takes, every subtle reaction and the enigmatic aura surrounding him stirs a sense of intrigue within you, casting a shadow of suspicion upon his every move.

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, you choose to remain silent, your steps light as you retreat to the elevated vantage point. Hidden amongst the shadows, you observe him in the sanctuary below, your gaze fixed upon his approach to the confessional booth.

The murmurs of conversation, muffled by the confessional's veil, reach your ears as fragmented whispers. Though you cannot discern the words, you recognize the timbre of his voice, the weight of his confessions, as if they bear the burdens of a lifetime. In the quiet solitude of the rafters, you witness the profound moments of vulnerability shared within the confessional. In these moments, you feel a kinship, a shared understanding of the weight he carries upon his shoulders.

As you observe from the rafters, his confession comes to an end, and he exits the confessional booth. There's a subtle shift in the air as he stands still, as if he senses your presence lingering, watching him. A sudden jolt of realization runs through you. Did he just sense your presence? The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and a chill creeps up your spine. A moment of panic washes over you as you question whether your hidden position has been compromised.

You gather your thoughts and focus your mind, honing your ability to manipulate perception. With a quick burst of mental energy, you conjure an illusion that makes you disappear from sight, creating a diversionary tactic, a mirage that distorts the surroundings. The sound of a gust of wind sweeps through the rafters, rustling the shadows and masking any traces of your presence. You now vanish from Matt's limited perception.

Confusion etches itself on Matt's face as he stands there, his heightened senses attuned to the shifting atmosphere. He tries to make sense of what just happened, relying on his remaining senses to decipher the situation. Was it merely a trick of the wind? Or something else entirely?

Matt's head tilts slightly as if trying to catch any lingering sounds or vibrations, but the absence of visual confirmation hampers his ability to comprehend. His brow furrows as he ponders the inexplicable occurrence. Though he cannot see, he can't shake the feeling that someone was there, observing him. The mystery of the vanished presence lingers in his thoughts, leaving him with an air of intrigue and a touch of frustration.

Meanwhile, you retreat further into the shadows, holding your breath as you watch his perplexed demeanor. The silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the faint sounds of the church. As you observe him from your hidden vantage point, your heart races with a mix of adrenaline and uncertainty.

As Matthew turns towards the grand church doors, the rhythmic tapping of his cane reverberates through the hallowed halls, a somber melody that fades into the distance. Curiosity guides your gaze, and you find yourself peering through the nearby glass window, watching his silhouette as he gracefully walks into the embrace of the night.

A familiar voice, Father Lantom's gentle call, interrupts your reverie, and you reappear as your illusory form dissipates like a shimmering mirage. His eyes meet yours, holding a knowing glimmer, and you offer a sheepish smile in response. "Can you please come down from there?" he requests, a tone of warmth and concern lacing his words. "We could use your help in preparing dinner for the children."

Your sheepish smile widens, accompanied by a nod of affirmation. "Of course, Father Lantom. I'll be right down." As you descend from your hidden perch, you find yourself walking beside Father Lantom towards St. Agnes, the orphanage that holds pieces of Matthew's past. The curiosity that has been brewing within you finally finds its voice, and you can't help but inquire about the enigmatic young man who had just left the church.

"Father Lantom," you begin, your tone gentle yet inquisitive, "I couldn't help but notice that Matthew, he... he was one of the orphans here at St. Agnes, wasn't he?" You glance at the revered priest, hoping to glean some insights into Matthew's formative years.

Father Lantom's eyes reflect a mixture of fondness and understanding as he nods. "Yes, my dear. Matthew was indeed a resident of St. Agnes. He came to us with a quiet resilience, a determination to rise above the challenges life had presented him. Despite his circumstances, he displayed remarkable intelligence, compassion, and a sense of justice that would shape his path in profound ways."

You listen intently, absorbing the fragments of Matthew's past that Father Lantom is willing to share. The mention of his resilience and his unwavering commitment to justice only deepens your intrigue, strengthening the connection you feel towards the man who has become a subject of fascination in your life.

As you enter the bustling kitchen of St. Agnes, the aroma of warm food fills the air, and the sound of utensils clinking against pots and pans accompanies your every step. Sister Maggie and the other sisters are busy at work, their movements synchronized and efficient.

You join their silent dance, preparing the ingredients with care and precision. Sister Catherine, a gentle and nurturing presence, works alongside you, her kind eyes filled with compassion for the children in their care. Together, you create a symphony of flavors, each dish infused with love and warmth.

After the satisfying meal is served and the children's laughter echoes through the dining hall, Sister Maggie beckons you to a quiet corner. Her eyes carry a touch of concern as she shares her worries about one particular child who has been plagued by nightmares, struggling to find solace in sleep.

"Dear one," Sister Maggie begins, her voice a soothing balm, "we've noticed that little Sarah, who recently arrived at the orphanage, has been having trouble sleeping. Her nightmares have left her restless and weary. We've tried our best to comfort her, but I believe your presence and your unique abilities might offer her a measure of peace."

You feel a surge of empathy for the young girl, your heart yearning to alleviate her pain. With a gentle nod, you agree to assist Sister Maggie, grateful for the opportunity to extend your kindness and offer a glimmer of hope to someone in need.

Together, you and Sister Maggie make your way to the children's dormitory, where soft sobs and hushed whispers fill the air. The dimly lit room casts elongated shadows across the beds, a tangible manifestation of the children's fears.

Drawing upon your own experiences and the innate power that courses through your veins, you sit beside Sarah's bed, your presence a comforting presence in the darkness. With a gentle touch, you reach out, intertwining your fingers with hers. A soft glow emanates from your touch, casting a warm light that dispels the shadows.

At that moment, you become a conduit of solace and tranquility, soothing Sarah's troubled mind. Through the power of empathy and your own inner strength, you weave a tapestry of soothing images and peaceful dreams, gently guiding Sarah into a restful slumber.

As you withdraw your hand, a sense of fulfillment washes over you. Sister Maggie, who has been silently observing, offers a grateful smile, her appreciation evident in her eyes. It is in these moments of compassion and connection that your powers find their true purpose – to bring comfort and healing to those who need it most.

Once the turmoil has subsided, you and Sister Maggie quietly make your way out, seeking solace in a peaceful evening walk. The gentle breeze rustles the leaves overhead as you and Sister Maggie stroll side by side. The moon casts a soft glow upon the grounds of St. Agnes, creating an ethereal atmosphere. In the quietude of the night, you find a moment to share your thoughts with Sister Maggie, a confidante and wise presence within the church walls.

"You know, Sister Maggie," you begin, your voice carrying a sense of wonder, "ever since I arrived here, I've been listening to the prayers and expressions of gratitude that echo within these sacred walls. Lately, I've noticed a recurring theme—a cascade of thanks directed towards a mysterious figure, someone in a black suit. It's as if this person has been saving lives, responding to desperate pleas for help."

Sister Maggie's eyes glimmer with a knowing twinkle, her response carefully chosen. "The workings of divine providence are often veiled, my dear. The Lord's angels can manifest in unexpected forms, cloaked in darkness yet bearing light. It is not for us to decipher their true nature, but rather to trust in the goodness they bring."

Her words leave you with a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. The identity of the man in the black suit remains shrouded in mystery, and Sister Maggie's cryptic response does little to quell your wonder. As you part ways and make your way back to the rafters, your mind dances with possibilities, eager to uncover the truth behind the enigmatic savior who has captured the hearts and prayers of those he has touched.

HELL’S KITCHEN, CLINTON CHURCH – MORNING

With eager anticipation, you gather your belongings, ready to embark on your journey to the community center nestled in the heart of Hell's Kitchen. Tuesdays and Thursdays hold a special place in your schedule, as they are dedicated to community outreach and engagement, allowing you to make a positive impact on the lives of those around you. As your footsteps echo through the corridors, a sense of purpose fills the air.

Passing by Father Lantom, who is immersed in the task of lighting candles, you offer him a warm smile and bid your farewell with cheerful words. "Goodbye, Father!" you chirp, the excitement evident in your voice. In response, Father Lantom's caring gaze meets yours, and he gently reminds you, "Be sure to return before darkness falls, my dear." His words carry a hint of concern, a reminder of the dangers that lurk in the shadows of the city you aim to uplift.

The bustling and busy streets of the city fill your ears as you make your way to the community center. People walk hurriedly, their footsteps echoing on the pavement, their urgent movements revealing the importance of their destinations. The city's energy envelopes you, blending with your own sense of purpose.

As you reach your destination, the community center comes into view. Its vibrant exterior stands out amidst the surrounding buildings, offering a haven of support and care. The sound of laughter and chatter emanates from within, a symphony of voices that lifts your spirits.

Stepping inside, you are greeted by Maria, an experienced social worker, and a familiar face. Her warm smile instantly puts you at ease, and you exchange pleasantries.

"Hey there! Good to see you," Maria says, her voice filled with genuine warmth.

You return her smile, grateful for the camaraderie and support that Maria provides. As you settle into the familiar rhythm of your work, you can't help but overhear snippets of conversation around you. The topic of discussion revolves around the Russian mobs that have been causing fear in the community.

"It's been the talk of the town lately," Maria says, her tone tinged with concern. "The Russian mobs are causing chaos and everyone in the community is scared out of their minds."

Your heart sinks, knowing all too well the impact such criminal activities can have on the lives of those you serve. "I've been hearing similar stories," you reply, your voice laced with empathy. "It's really tough to see how much it affects the people we work with, you know?"

Maria nods in agreement, her eyes reflecting shared worry. Together, you exchange stories and observations, discussing the challenges faced by the community in the face of these criminal elements. Amidst your conversation, you notice a group of elderly residents gathered in a corner, engaged in their own hushed discussion. Curiosity piques your interest, and you discreetly listen in.

"Did you hear about the masked vigilante?" an elderly man whispers, his voice filled with awe. “He's like a shadow in the night. Creeping up on those Russian thugs and striking fear into their hearts." Other elderly voices join in, sharing their own accounts and opinions of this mysterious figure who prowls the streets of Hell's Kitchen, delivering his own brand of justice.

Intrigued by their tales, you find yourself captivated by the notion of a dark avenger fighting for justice. The stories resonate with the underlying frustration you feel toward the criminals plaguing the community. As you continue your work as a social worker, the whispers of the elderly and the legends of the masked vigilante linger in your thoughts. Deep within, a flicker of admiration ignites, acknowledging the complexity of his methods and the results he achieves.

As you carry out your duties at the community center, a familiar face catches your attention amidst the bustling chaos. It's Claire Temple, a compassionate nurse known for her dedication to healing and her involvement in the community. She offers a warm smile, acknowledging your presence, and you find a moment to exchange greetings.

"Hey there! Long day?" you ask, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Claire nods, her eyes reflecting a hint of exhaustion. "Yeah, you know how it goes. But it's worth it. How about you? How's the community center?"

You smile, leaning in slightly. "Busy as ever. The Russian mobs have been causing a lot of fear in the neighborhood lately. It's disheartening to witness the toll it takes on the people we work with."

Claire's expression turns somber as she glances around. "I've seen some of it at the hospital too. It's a tough situation."

As the conversation comes to a natural pause, you feel the urge to express your concern. "Hey, Claire, everything alright? You seem a bit off. Is there something on your mind?"

She hesitates for a moment before offering a reassuring smile. "Nah, just a rough night. But I'll be okay. Thanks for asking."

You nod, not fully convinced, but respecting her choice to keep things to herself. "Alright, just remember, I'm here if you ever need to talk. Take care, okay?"

As you turn to leave, a thought crosses your mind. "Oh, by the way, Claire, why don't I come over to your place later? We can bring some snacks and wine, and have a little girls' night. It might be nice to unwind after everything that's happened."

Claire's eyes light up, a grateful smile playing on her lips. "That would be great. My place could use some company. Come on over."

Hours pass by as you diligently work at the community center, engrossed in the needs of those you serve. Time slips away from you, and before you realize it, nightfall has arrived. With a sense of urgency, you gather your belongings, eager to honor your commitment to Claire.

As you rush through the dimly lit streets, your phone buzzes with a notification. Glancing at the screen, you see a message from Father Lantom. It's a relief to know that he's aware of your whereabouts and won't be worried. You send a quick reply, assuring him that you're on your way to Claire's apartment and that everything is fine. The gesture brings a small sense of comfort, knowing that you have someone looking out for you.

As you approach the apartment building, your footsteps quicken with a touch of anxiety. You had also texted Claire that you would be running late. You can't help but worry that you may have kept Claire waiting for too long. Your delay was unavoidable, as you had to make a quick stop to pick up a bottle of wine for the evening. With the wine safely tucked in your bag, you take a deep breath and push open the door to the building.

As you reach the landing of the stairs, a shocking sight greets your eyes. A man in a grey suit lies unconscious, blood trickling from a wound on his head. A fire extinguisher rests beside him on the ground, a jarring juxtaposition to the serene surroundings.

Your heart skips a beat, and your mind races to make sense of the scene before you. Panic sets in as you instinctively realize the gravity of the situation. Without conscious thought, your powers surge, causing your form to flicker and vanish from sight. In an instant, you become invisible, your presence hidden from prying eyes. It's an unintentional reaction, triggered by the shock and uncertainty that grips you. It's as if your very being seeks to protect itself from the unknown dangers that surround you.

In the hushed atmosphere, you strain your ears, capturing faint murmurs drifting from above the stairs. Slowly, your gaze lifts to find Claire, her expression filled with disbelief and uncertainty. "What do we do now?" she whispers, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and confusion.

Before you can fully process her words, another voice interjects, the urgency palpable in its tone. "There's someone else... one floor up, watching us. Oh, no. He's young. He's scared." The words hang in the air, and your eyes widen as you spot Santino, a young man you've assisted with tutoring on multiple occasions.

Without hesitation, you witness Claire lean over, her concern evident as she calls out, "Santino?" However, the young man doesn't respond. Instead, he swiftly retreats from view, disappearing back into the safety of his own apartment.

Intrigued and compelled to uncover the truth, you make a silent decision to ascend the stairs cautiously, keeping your footsteps light and your senses sharp. As you ascend, you observe Claire engaged in conversation, her voice carrying a tinge of familiarity. "He's the one who found you in the alley," she reveals, her words drawing your attention.

Step by step, you ascend further, your eyes scanning the surroundings. And then, in the dimly lit corridor, you spot a figure clad in sleek black attire. A mask conceals the upper portion of his face, leaving only his mouth and stubble. It dawns on you that this is the vigilante everyone has been talking about.

"He's seen my face, too?" he questions Claire, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice. Without missing a beat, she affirms his inquiry, her voice carrying a weight of truth. "Yeah."

The Masked Man lets out a weary sigh, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and determination. "Claire, go upstairs and find him. We're going to need help carrying Detective Foster to the roof," he instructs, his words laced with urgency. As he pushes himself off the wall, a grimace of pain crosses his face, his hand clutching his side. It's at that moment that you truly take in his appearance—completely battered, bloodied, and bruised.

You remain invisible, carefully observing his movements as he slowly approaches your position. Swiftly, you sidestep to give him room, ensuring not to impede his path. Claire, perplexed by the situation, breaks the silence with a mixture of concern and confusion. "What the hell are we going to the roof for?" she questions, her voice tinged with apprehension.

The vigilante, his steps weakened but resolute, begins his descent down the stairs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Less chance of someone in the building hearing him scream," he replies, his words carrying the weight of the dangerous reality they find themselves in.

You trail behind them, ascending to the rooftop, silently observing their actions. Your gaze fixes upon the Masked Man as he deftly ties the wrists of Detective Foster with a piece of rope, suspending him from the bars of a metal ladder. As he secures the rope, his attention turns to Claire, seeking information. "You find anything?" he inquires, his voice a mix of urgency and determination.

Claire's eyes shift to the cracked phone in her hands, a hint of frustration evident in her expression. "You smashed the hell out of it with that extinguisher," she remarks, the weight of the damaged device lingering between them. In the brief pause that follows, you take the opportunity to discreetly move across the rooftop, perching on the ledge as you listen to their conversation unfold.

"He had a badge," Claire continues, her voice tinged with uncertainty. The Masked Man remains silent, his thoughts concealed behind the mask that shields his face. Claire presses on, her voice filled with doubt, "What if you're wrong?" Without missing a beat, he retorts, his conviction unwavering, "I'm not."

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him hobble toward your position. Invisible, your powers working in tandem to conceal every scent, heartbeat, and sound, you remain undetected. In the midst of their exchange, you hear Claire's voice echo through the night air, laden with a sense of unease. "This is way past what I signed up for."

With a slight shift to the side, you create space for the vigilante as he leans against the ledge beside you. The moonlight casts a dim glow upon his features as he poses a question to Claire, his voice tinged with curiosity. "What exactly do you think that was?"

Claire takes a few measured steps toward him, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and determination. "I found a man who needed help, so I helped him," she asserts, her gaze unwavering. The Masked Man responds with a hint of skepticism, "Oh, yeah? That simple?"

With a pause that carries the weight of unspoken tension, Claire walks closer to him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Do you really want to get into this in front of him?" she questions, a flicker of concern crossing her face. He responds with his firm voice, "He's out." Their attention briefly shifts to the suspended figure, and Claire suggests, "Maybe he's faking."

He then tilts his head for a moment, focusing his hearing on the man’s heartbeat before lifting his head again and shaking his head. "He's not," he concludes, the certainty evident in his tone. Claire points at him, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Okay, that right there, that's what I'm talking about," she retorts, her finger emphasizing her point. 

As the Masked Man slowly removes his gloves, Claire presses on, her voice filled with a mix of astonishment and exasperation. "I find a guy in a dumpster, and he turns out to be some kind of blind vigilante who can do all of this... this really weird shit," she gestures emphatically, trying to find the right words to capture the extraordinary abilities she has witnessed. "Like smelling cologne through walls and sensing whether someone's unconscious or faking it. And on top of that, he can take an unbelievable amount of punishment without one damn complaint."

He responds with a charismatic shrug and a knowing smile. "The last part's the Catholicism," he quips, a touch of humor in his tone, revealing a glimpse of his own understanding of the role faith plays in his resilience.

Oh, God. As the words sink in, your heart skips a beat, and you feel a surge of mixed emotions coursing through your veins. It's him. It's Matthew Murdock. The realization hits you like a tidal wave, threatening to shatter the fragile balance you've managed to maintain. For a brief moment, doubt and uncertainty cloud your thoughts, and your powers waver, almost revealing your presence.

In the midst of this inner turmoil, you notice a subtle shift in the Masked Man's demeanor. His heightened senses catch a hint of your scent in the air, an unfamiliar yet strangely familiar aroma. Confusion flickers across his face, and instinctively, he turns his head to the right, as if searching for the source of the elusive presence that has caught his attention.

You hold your breath, frozen in the realization that Matthew, the man you've admired and been drawn to, is standing just inches away from you. The connection between you feels tangible, like an invisible thread linking your fates. But for now, you remain hidden, concealing yourself in the shadows, grappling with the overwhelming revelation that threatens to unravel the carefully constructed walls around your heart.

Claire, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, breaks the silence with concern etched on her face. "What is it? Did you sense something?"

You see Matthew's brow furrow behind the mask slightly as he tilts his head around, his heightened senses still on alert. "I'm not sure... I thought I detected someone else's presence, but... never mind.”

Claire's frustration is evident as she lets out a sigh, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "So, what? I'm supposed to take it on faith that I'm on the right side of this?" She points to the man unconscious behind her. Matthew lifts his chin, steady and determined. "You don't carry a masked man bleeding to death into your apartment on faith. You knew which side you're on the moment you found me."

Claire takes a moment to gather her thoughts, her gaze briefly shifting towards the unconscious man tied to the ladder. Matthew's question lingers in the air, and she turns to face him, her expression filled with a mix of determination and compassion.

"I'm a nurse. I work in the ER at Metro-General," she begins, her voice steady. “A few weeks ago, cops bring in three men. Said they were robbing tourists, beating them up pretty bad. Apparently, a man with a black mask took issue with their activities and decided to step in. I counted nine broken bones between them.”

There's a brief pause before Claire continues, her voice carrying a touch of vulnerability. “A few days after that, EMTs and my friend who’s a social worker brought in a 19-year-old waitress, said… some guy she knew waited for her after work in the parking lot, attacked her… tried to drag her in the alley. She said she screamed and screamed, and a man in a black mask heard her… and he saved her life.”

Matthew remains silent, his unseeing eyes fixed on Claire as she continues to voice her thoughts. The weight of her words hang in the air, the struggle between belief and doubt palpable in her expression. She gestures towards the unconscious and wounded man, frustration evident in her voice.

“So, yeah, word’s getting around.” Claire says, her voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and hope. "And I want to believe in it. I really do. But this?" She points to the man tied to the ladder, emphasizing the severity of the situation. Matthew, his masked face hiding half of his features, takes a moment, the silence pregnant with unspoken emotions. He licks his lips, a nervous gesture, before finally responding. "I know you're afraid," he says, his voice steady and determined. He takes a step closer, "But you can't let fear control you. If you do... these men, they win."

The tension between them is palpable, an undeniable connection tinged with both attraction and uncertainty. Sensing the weight of the moment, you turn your body away, facing the view of Hell's Kitchen. Swinging your legs gently, you take in the cityscape that never sleeps, the distant sound of sirens piercing the night. It's a moment of anticipation, waiting for Foster to regain consciousness.

APARTMENT ROOFTOP – NIGHT

Half an hour passes in tense silence as Matthew senses Detective Foster beginning to regain consciousness. Claire swiftly covers her face with a piece of white cloth, a makeshift mask to conceal her identity. Matthew turns to her, his voice low and commanding.

"Don't say anything, Claire," he advises, his tone firm yet measured. "Let me handle the interrogation." Claire nods, her eyes filled with a mix of apprehension and determination.

You move away from the ledge, positioning yourself a few feet behind them. The weight of the imminent violence hangs in the air, a familiar presence that you've encountered before. Your powers shimmer, rendering you invisible, your senses heightened and ready for the events about to unfold.

Detective Foster's eyelids flutter as he gradually awakens, disoriented and dazed. His gaze shifts, and as his vision clears, he realizes he is restrained and surrounded. His eyes settle on the imposing figure of the Masked Man and another presence standing just behind him, invisible to his senses.

Matthew takes a calculated step forward, his presence radiating intimidation and menace. The air around him seems to thicken with an invisible weight, amplifying the aura of fear he effortlessly commands. His voice lowers, taking on a deeper, more menacing tone as he addresses Detective Foster.

“Here’s how this is gonna work.” ​​Matthew asserts, his words laced with an unmistakable intensity. “I’m gonna ask you some questions. You’re gonna answer them. If you’re lying to me… trust that I will know…” he warns, a predatory growl resonating beneath his words. “And I will be unhappy.”

The atmosphere on the rooftop becomes electric, charged with an unspoken understanding of the power imbalance at play. Detective Foster remains silent, his eyes darting nervously between Matthew and the concealed figure standing behind him. The weight of the situation hangs heavily in the air, anticipation building as Matthew prepares to extract the information he seeks.

With a calculated intensity, Matthew initiates his interrogation, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Where's the boy?" he demands, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity. Foster, attempting to maintain a facade of defiance, nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders and utters a blatant falsehood. "He's dead," he states, his voice laced with false conviction.

But Matthew, honed by years of honing his senses and instincts, instantly detects the deception. Without hesitation, his fist swiftly connects with Foster's head, the force of the blow causing him to cough out blood and reel from the impact. A mix of pain and realization flashes across Foster's face as he comprehends the gravity of the situation.

"This is what unhappy looks like. Where’s the boy?" Matthew asserts, his voice dripping with cold determination. The message is clear: the consequences of deceit will be met with swift and punishing retribution. At that moment, the power dynamic between captor and captive crystallizes, leaving no doubt that Matthew holds the upper hand.

Foster wheezes, his voice strained, as he tries to maintain a defiant front. "Why do you care? If he's not dead yet, he will be," he retorts, a hint of malicious satisfaction in his tone. Matthew refuses to be deterred, pressing forward with his interrogation. "Why did you take him?" he demands, his voice low and intense. Foster responds with an unsettling nonchalance, "Figured you'd come running."

Matthew's jaw tightens as he struggles to contain his anger and frustration. "And after I was dead?" he probes further, his voice laced with a mix of desperation and determination. Foster's expression remains indifferent as he casually replies, "Sell the kid, like all the others."

The weight of Foster's callous admission hangs heavily in the air, a chilling testament to the depths of his depravity. Matthew's control slips, fueled by a surge of righteous anger. With a swift and forceful blow, he strikes Foster once again, unable to tolerate the man's unrepentant guiltlessness.

Foster groans in pain, his facade momentarily crumbling under the weight of the assault. Through gritted teeth, he manages to utter, "I was telling the truth on that one," his words laced with a twisted mix of sincerity and indifference. Matt's frustration grows, his fist clenches as he deepens his voice into a growl, "I know."

Foster, unfazed by the gravity of the situation, chuckles audaciously. "We got you good, didn't we?" he taunts, his voice dripping with arrogance. Matt refuses to be provoked, his focus unwavering. "Who do you sell the children to?" he demands, his tone hard and unwavering.

Bleeding from his mouth, Foster nonchalantly shrugs, a chilling indifference in his demeanor. "I don't know. Whoever has the money," he replies, his words devoid of remorse. Matt's gaze intensifies as he leans closer, his voice low and dangerous, "Where's the boy?"

With a smirk, Foster taunts, relishing in the power dynamic of their exchange. "So you find him. So what? We'll take another. Kill me, somebody takes my place. Long as people are buying, we'll be selling," he states with a derisive shake of his head. "Nothing you do tonight will change that."

Frustration boils within Matt, his injured form visible through his labored breathing. Foster cruelly points out his condition, mocking his endurance. "But go ahead. Keep hitting me. Let's see who drops first," he challenges, a twisted glimmer of defiance in his eyes.

As the intensity of the interrogation grows and the urgency to obtain crucial information mounts, you recognize the need to take direct action. With determination in your eyes, you swiftly move to Foster's side, reaching out to grasp his wrist which is still tightly bound.

Drawing upon your powers, you tap into the depths of fear and horror, channeling them into a potent projection aimed directly at Foster's fragile psyche. With a surge of energy, you unleash a chilling manifestation of his worst fears, tailored specifically to exploit his vulnerabilities and force him to confront his darkest demons.

Foster's eyes widen in terror as the illusion takes hold, his screams of agony piercing the air. He thrashes against his restraints, desperately trying to escape the relentless torment of his own mind. Matthew and Claire, taken aback by the sudden eruption of fear and chaos, are momentarily frozen in confusion, unsure of what is transpiring before them.

To their amazement, Foster's torment continues unabated, despite their static presence. It becomes evident to them that there is an external force at play, something beyond their understanding. Foster's screams pierce the air, growing more desperate with each passing moment.

Suddenly, Foster's pleas for mercy are stifled as Matt's gloved hand forcefully covers his mouth, silencing his cries. His eyes dart around in confusion, searching for the source of his torment. His nose begins to bleed, a visceral manifestation of the sheer terror gripping his being.

Matt's grip tightens, a mixture of determination and concern etched across his face. He senses a force at work, but the identity and motives of this mysterious presence remain elusive. Uncertainty fills the air, mingling with the intensity of the moment. 

And then, as your strength wanes, you can no longer maintain your hold on Foster. He pants heavily, clearly in psychological and physical pain. Sensing an opportunity to intensify the interrogation, Matthew seizes the moment, grabs Foster's collar, and menacingly states, "You're right... what you said before. I kill you, somebody takes your place, but they'll end up back here just like you, and sooner or later, one of you is gonna tell me what I need to know."

Matthew swiftly reaches for one of the ladder rails, pulling out a small knife and cutting the rope that restrains Foster. With a firm grip, he carries Foster to the edge of the rooftop, half of his body hovering over the precipice. His baritone voice deepens as he emphasizes, "This is important." Foster groans, and Matthew shushes him, whispering, "Shh! Listen, I need you to understand why I'm hurting you. It's not just about the boy. I'm doing this because I enjoy it." Matthew then pulls Foster up, fully leaning his body over the edge, and from your vantage point, you observe the unfolding events while trying to catch your breath.

Foster's desperate pleas of "No, no, no!" fill the air as Matthew whispers, "Where is he?" With no response from Foster, Matthew's anger erupts, his voice booming, "Where is he?" After one final menacing shove over the ledge, Foster gives up the location, gasping, "Underneath Troika restaurant. Eleventh and 44th."

Matthew pulls Foster back up and away from the edge, ensuring his safety. Once Foster is on his feet, he chuckles mockingly, taunting, "They'll be waiting for you. If you're lucky, they'll kill you before they start on the boy. It would be a shame for you to witness what they do to him." Matthew grabs Foster by the shoulder and forcefully pushes him off the rooftop. Claire shrieks in shock as she watches the man plummet, a loud crash resonating as he lands in a dumpster below.

"It's all right. He landed in the dumpster you pulled me out of," Matthew pants out, his strength waning. Claire's voice trembles with concern as she asks, "Is he dead?" Matthew tilts his head, listening for Foster's heartbeat, and shrugs, "He'll live."

As Claire gazes over the ledge, Matthew hobbles away, urging her, "You need to gather your things and leave. Don't disclose your destination to anyone." Matthew retrieves the remaining rope hanging from the ladder, while Claire turns to find him walking away. "What?" she questions, perplexed. Matthew grunts in response, "If he wakes up, he'll be back... and he won't be alone next time." He cuts the rope in half using the small knife and tosses it to the ground. Claire lifts up her cloth, expressing relief, "But he didn't see my face."

"That was just for effect, to scare him. He knew you were lying when you answered your door," Matthew explains, groaning in pain. Claire moves to assist him, but he raises his hand, signaling her to stop. "Do you have a place you can go?" he asks. Claire sighs, contemplating, "Well, there is one... but I'm not sure if she has enough room. I'm currently cat-sitting for a woman I work with within the hospital. Her brother is sick. She's in Oklahoma."

"What's the address?" Matt asks, his breath strained. Claire looks at him with confusion and asks, "Why?" Matthew replies, his voice wavering, "I'm thinking if I'm thinking if I make it through the night, I may need some help getting patched up," Matthew says with a pained expression. Claire sighs, understanding the gravity of the situation, and replies, "Tenth and 54th. Apartment 412, um, in the building above the liquor store."

Matthew senses her worry and reaches out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. Thank you, Claire," he says sincerely, his gratitude evident in his tired form. He takes a few steps away before Claire speaks up once more, her voice filled with doubt, "I don't believe you. What you said. I don't believe you enjoy this."

As you materialize on the floor, panting and visibly exhausted, Claire's concern immediately takes over. She swiftly turns around and rushes to your side, her voice filled with worry as she calls out your name, "I thought you were... How? Were you here all along? What is going on?"

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you manage to respond, your voice slightly strained, "I have powers. Abilities that allow me to... do things others can't." Claire looks at you skeptically, clearly grappling with the strangeness of the situation. You decide to bring up the recent alien invasion attempt as a reference point, hoping to put things into perspective. "You know the giant hole in the sky? The alien invaders that attacked New York? Well, I was sort of involved in that. It's been a wild ride."

Claire's expression shifts from skepticism to a mix of disbelief and awe. "Okay," she says slowly, processing the information. "So, let me get this straight. You have powers, there is a blind vigilante, and now we're here on a rooftop dealing with dangerous criminals. This is officially the weirdest night I've ever had."

You nod in agreement, acknowledging the surreal nature of the situation. "Believe me, Claire, it's just as strange for me. But right now, I need to leave. I need to go and help him rescue the boy."

Claire's curiosity takes hold, and she looks at you intently. "You were the one who made Foster lose it, weren't you? Why he suddenly started screaming at nothing?"

You nod again, confirming her observation. "Yes, it was me. I had to do whatever it took to get the information we needed. Foster was involved in something dangerous, and the boy's life is at stake."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you, as the weight of the situation sinks in. Then, Claire's voice softens, and she asks, "Do you know who Mike is? I mean, really know him?"

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your complicated connection to ‘Mike’ who was actually Matthew. "Kind of. Not really. We have a history, but he doesn't know me, and for now, I think it's best to keep it that way."

Claire absorbs your response, her expression filled with understanding. After a brief pause, she looks at you with a mix of concern and determination. "You're going to go help him, aren't you? Mike. You're risking everything for him."

You meet her gaze and offer a determined nod. "Yes, I am. I have a feeling he's caught up in something bigger than all of us, and I can't ignore that. I have to try to help him."

Claire's worry is evident as she says, "You better come back in one piece. I don’t know how I would explain all of this to Maria."

You give her a faint smile, appreciating her concern and support. "I'll do my best, Claire."

TROIKA RESTAURANT, UNDERGROUND – NIGHT

Your heart pounds in your chest as you step into the dimly lit hallway, ready to aid Matthew Murdock with your unique abilities. The air crackles with anticipation as you tap into the depths of your power, the energy coursing through your veins.

As you move forward, the sounds of scuffling feet and strained grunts fill the air, echoing off the walls. Shadows dance and flicker, creating an eerie ambiance that heightens the tension. Your presence is a secret, known only to yourself.

With a single thought, your surroundings come alive. Illusions spring forth, perfectly replicating the masked vigilante in every detail. The mobsters' attention is captured by these illusory duplicates, drawing their attacks away from Matthew. They strike at empty air, their frustration growing with each missed blow.

Your illusions become more intricate, weaving a web of confusion and fear. Illusory weapons materialize in your hands, gleaming with a phantom menace. The mobsters' eyes widen in terror as they face the illusion of imminent danger, hesitating for a crucial moment.

The hallway transforms into a maze of illusory constructs. Shadows twist and contort, creating false barriers that impede the mobsters' progress. Their footsteps falter, their balance disrupted by the ethereal obstacles you've conjured. The line between reality and illusion blurs in their minds, feeding their growing sense of unease.

Their swings and strikes meet nothing but empty space, frustration mounting with each failed attempt to land a blow. Illusory wounds appear on their bodies, and illusory blood stains their clothes. Cries of pain mingled with shouts of anger, chaos reigning in the narrow corridor.

Amidst the whirlwind of illusions, Matthew moves with grace and purpose, his senses honed to perfection. He leaps and dodges, striking with pinpoint accuracy, his relentless determination evident in every calculated move. The mobsters find themselves increasingly overwhelmed, their confidence eroded by the uncertainty that surrounds them.

And then, in a fleeting moment, Matthew turns, carrying the boy in his arms. His heightened senses catch a hint of your presence—the faintest scent, the echo of a heartbeat—before it dissipates into the night. There's a flicker of realization in his posture, an unspoken acknowledgment of your contribution to the fight.

With a final surge of strength, Matthew pushes forward while carrying the young boy. Your illusions continue to distract and disorient the remaining mobsters, allowing him to navigate through the chaos with unwavering focus. As the hallway fight reaches its climax, the mobsters are left reeling, their resolve shattered. You watch from the shadows, your breath steady but your heart still racing. The moment of triumph is shared, even if only for a brief instant, before you fade back into the anonymity that cloaks your true nature.

Matthew's focus shifts back to the task at hand, carrying the boy to safety. Yet, a sense of intrigue lingers within him. He feels your ghost, supporting him, but your identity remains a mystery. As he carries the boy, he silently vows to uncover the truth behind his mysterious ally once this mission is complete.

With the boy safe in his arms, Matthew continues his swift retreat, leaving behind the hallway and the echoes of your combined efforts. The enigmatic presence of your illusion powers remains a secret, for now, your aid in the fight is a silent testament to your unwavering support.

END NOTES:

I’m… IDK WHAT THIS ISSSSSS :D

YES. This is my take on the whole “guardian angel” role bcs it’s fun!

If you are confused with the reader’s back story dw I already have that sorted out.

HNGGG YES IM WRITING TWO SERIES. IN THE MIDDLE OF FINALS WEEK SHUSH. IM FINE =D

Okayyyy I hope you enjoyed T^T <3

- Grace

TAGLIST:

#matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x reader #charlie cox x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #ethereal writes #etherealupdates