#spoiler they're actually looking for cheeks and finding none

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 2: Saidin

I am running out of pictures so rapidly it's alarming. It's as if I've moved beyond the territory of the show and the comic books and so all we've got left is text, which is apparently terrible for engagement. Also terrible for engagement is warning people about spoilers, which is why I won't tell anyone who doesn't already know that this post contains spoilers for the whole of The Wheel of Time series. Come right in and make lots of outraged replies about how I've ruined everything for you instead.

This chapter starts with the dragon's fang symbol, probably because it's literally called "Saidin" and Rand will be fucking things up with it.

All the women who came insisted on speaking to Moiraine immediately, and alone. The news that Moiraine chose to share with the rest of them did not always seem very important, but the women held the intensity of a hunter stalking the last rabbit in the world for his starving family.

It's almost like they're working for an Aes Sedai, and not just any Aes Sedai but one of the few left who tries to live up to the old standard. I'd think that pretty important too unless I was literally dyingn of thirst.

Or ever, he added to himself. Moiraine had kept them there all winter. The Shienarans did not think she gave the orders, not here, but Perrin knew that Aes Sedai somehow always seemed to get their way. Especially Moiraine.

I get that you're stir-crazy bro but do you really WANT to be wandering the wilderness in the middle of winter, fighting battles that you can avoid by staying still? What alternatives do you have other than "Don't do what Moiraine wants because she's Aes Sedai"?

“The Tinker woman is going to die,” she said softly, eyeing the others near the fires. None was close enough to hear.

It's times like this you can remember why Min doesn't particularly want her powers. She's probably seen quite a few people who were going to die soon by this point, just because when you walk by so many people in a city it's bound to happen sooner or later.

“Is that her name? I wish I didn’t know. It always makes it worse, knowing and not being able to. . . . Perrin, I saw her own face floating over her shoulder, covered in blood, eyes staring. It’s never any clearer than that.” She shivered and rubbed her hands together briskly.

I wonder if these omens she sees are realistic enough to be as traumatizing as seeing the actual thing.

He thought of the wolves. No! The scouts would find anyone or anything trying to approach the camp.

Good job helping fulfill Min's prophecy, Perrin. Things might have been different if you'd used your resources to your fullest advantage.

She had told him; she had tried warning people about bad things when, at six or seven, she had first realized not everyone could see what she saw. She would not say more, but he had the impression that her warnings had only made matters worse, when they were believed at all.

Poor Min.

It had made him cautious and careful, and regretful of his anger when he let it show. “I am sorry, Min. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I did not mean to hurt you.” She gave him a surprised look.

Really I think my problem with Perrin is that it's very obvious that he has completely over-corrected for problems in the past to the point where he's now too afraid to do much of anything on his own.

“Strange,” she said softly, “how you seem to care so much about the Tuatha’an. They are utterly peaceful, and I always see violence around—” He turned his head away, and she cut off abruptly.

And again, it's other women tearing Perrin apart with words much more than him hurting them physically or emotionally. Perrin's problem is that at heart he absolutely agrees that violence is damaging even in self-defense but he exists in an Age where that self-defense is very necessary.

She rolled her eyes at Perrin, a wry twist to her mouth. “All I wanted was to live as I pleased, fall in love with a man I chose. . . .” Her cheeks reddened suddenly, and she cleared her throat.

1. Min, almost no one chooses who they fall in love with. 2. You're lucky you're blabbering in front of Perrin and Loial and not anyone with an understanding of love because for all your "don't like to talk about your visions" thing, you sure are signposting it for everyone.

The Ogier looked at them, suddenly shy, his ears twitching. “Promise you will not laugh? I think I might write a book about it. I have been taking notes.”

Really, you could argue that Loial has hardly been swept up into the ta'veren stuff at all yet. If he'd met anyone so interesting as Rand and crew, he might have chosen to go traveling with them anyway. After all, his choosing to leave the groves had nothing to do with them.

Uno, who could hardly say a sentence without a curse, spoke now with the deepest respect. The others echoed him. “Honor to serve.” Masema, who saw ill in everything, and whose eyes now shone with utter devotion; Ragan; all of them, awaiting a command if it were Rand’s pleasure to give one.

While Rand of course dislikes this treatment, I do think that having to deal with this for a few months is the start of his arrogance. You can't be treated like this by every normal person you spend time with without it starting to rub off on you.

And aside from Moiraine and Lan, there were only the three of them—Min, Loial, and him—who did not stare at Rand as if he stood above kings. And of the three only Perrin knew him from before.

It's rather unfortunate that Perrin instinctively understands why Rand needs him here and tosses that aside much later on in the story. All three of the boys seem to backslide a bit as a result of what happens to them.

A man—a thing!—everyone was taught to loathe and fear from childhood. Only . . . it was hard to stop seeing the boy he had grown up with. How do you just stop being somebody’s friend?

Prejudices - even really rational ones like "Don't trust the dudes who can and will melt you in their sleep" - tend to have a hard time sticking around in the face of empathy, which Perrin to his credit does have a lot of. It's why he's a little better at dealing with this stuff than Mat.

He began to laugh mirthlessly, his shoulders shaking. “I have the duty, because there isn’t anybody else, now is there?”

Rand's not going mad from the taint here, but rather from the reality of his position finally setting in. The weight of the world is on his shoulders so it's understandable that he's cracking under the strain. And that more than anything is why Moiraine is right to have him wait - if he did go out onto the Plain in this state he'd probably snap in battle instead of thrive like he has before.

Perrin almost laughed himself, in confusion. “If you agree with her, why in the Light do you argue all the time?” “Because I have to do something. Or I’ll . . . I’ll—burst like a rotted melon!”

Like Perrin, Rand's big problem in this sequence is that he doesn't have any viable alternatives and just whines a lot instead. There's a lot Rand could be doing (more training with Lan, trying to learn politics from Moiraine, studying with Loial, etc.) but instead of dedicating himself to his fate he just laments all the deaths that are happening in his name instead. This is naturally only going to lead to more problems down the line.

Rand shivered; despite the chill, there was sweat on his face. His eyes were still shut tight. “Oh, Light,” he groaned, “it pulls so.”

Nope, this isn't taint madness either (I will be doing my best to demonstrate to you why NONE of his craziness in this book can be chalked up to that specifically). Remember: Rand is a wilder and he's still in that awkward "could easily draw enough power to burn himself out because he doesn't even know the proper exercises for starting out with the power" phase.

Rand stood with his head thrown back, his eyes still shut tight. He did not seem to feel the thrashing of the ground that had him now at one angle, now at another. His balance never shifted, no matter how he was tossed. Perrin could not be certain, being shaken as he was, but he thought Rand wore a sad smile. The trees flailed about, and the leatherleaf suddenly cracked in two, the greater part of its trunk crashing down not three paces from Rand. He noticed it no more than he noticed any of the rest.

The land and Rand are one, so he externalizes his temper tantrum out onto the world to avoid having to acknowledge his actual feelings.

Rand looked around as if seeing things for the first time. The fallen leatherleaf, and the broken branches. There was, Perrin realized, surprisingly little damage. He had expected gaping rents in the earth. The wall of trees looked almost whole.

And of course, Rand hasn't really addressed any of his internal issues so while he's a little disheveled, nothing has actually changed.

“They’re always there, dreams,” Rand said, so softly Perrin barely heard. “Maybe they tell us things. True things.” He fell silent, brooding.

Rand is of course also snapping under the pressure of Ba'alsy's TAR campaign. The lack of good sleep is already catching up to him here and it's not going to be getting better anytime soon.

Ah well. Next time: News!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #perrin aybara #leya #min farshaw #loial #rand al'thor #uno nomesta #masema dagar #ragan

[rookfeatherrambles]

Things come in threes I guess. JonElias Week drabble 3

This one comes with a TW. Basically Jon tries to commit die

The prompt was 'Self Destruction"

So I think this fits

I'll put it under a read more

Also s4 spoilers kinda I guess???

SELF DESTRUCTION

"Let me die," Jon begs. "Let this end!"

His voice is ragged, dry and cracking with disuse and Elias is so furious that he might strike him. "No," is all he says, and then clenches his jaw because if he keeps his mouth open any longer he's at risk of vomiting words he knows he cannot take back, and that he's not ready to admit.

"For gods sake, Jon, stay awake," he commands, heaving the weak, starving the Eye informs him, near death man into his arms and leaving Jon's flat, the door wide open, everything fair game for anyone else to take or spoil. Elias doesn't care. In his head he's already decided that Jon will live with him from now on. Where he can keep his real eyes on him. Jon's still protesting, but Elias doesn't care. He's breathing, he's alive, that's all that matters.

Actually, you care very much. So much that you abandoned the plan you've worked two hundred years to achieve.

Elias snarls. "He is the lynchpin to my plan!" Before realizing he's talking to himself. Jon has passed out. Swearing, Elias bundles him into the car after checking that he's still breathing.

It had been a month before that Jon had entered his flat with the intent never to leave.

Elias had been putting the finishing touches on the grand reveal he'd been planning, the culmination of the bet he'd made with Peter Lukas; and then he'd felt it. His Archivist, the one he'd carefully maneuvered into every mark he needed, was dying.

It was so important that he left the confrontation with Peter and that gormless Martin Blackwood, sprinted, even, to get to his car.

And now, he casts glances at Jon's doll-like body slumped in the passenger seat of his sedan, his shallow breath lightly fogging the window his head rests against.

He looks so sick.

How long had he remained in that flat? How long had he starved himself?

The whole month, the Eye supplies. Four weeks, twelve hours, ten minutes, fifty nine seconds. He thought it would only take two. He did not consume any water.

"God, Jon!"

Elias's hands, they shake. He finds this more disturbing then finding his almost complete Archive knocking on death's door. He's just a tool. He can be replaced. It will set me back decades, but I am patient. I have time. There is always enough time.

Jon groans incoherently and Elias nearly rear ends the car in front of him. They're almost there.

"Hold on, Jon," he says, trying to control his breathing. "Hold on."

As soon as the car is parked in his driveway, Elias wrenches the door open and gathers Jon up none too gently, to take him inside.

There may be an eternity awaiting Jonah Magnus, but Jon is out of time.

Elias lets out a loud curse and lays the small, bird boned man onto his couch, before tearing across the hall with absolutely zero decorum to find what he's looking for.

Statements. He needs statements.

Not the kind that haphazardly populate the Archives, no, these are special. The paper is old, brittle, the ink flaked away where rough handling has aged them.

He races back to Jon's side, and carefully props him up with a cushion.

"Jon? Jon, can you hear me?"

Elias takes Jon's hand, squeezes it.

Please, Jon.

"Jon, squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

He all but lets out a sob of relief as he feels the slightest contraction of Jon's fingers in his own.

Elias shudders a breath, full of unwanted emotion.

He parts his lips.

"Statement of Jonah Magnus."

When he's finished, when the Watcher pulls away from the feast, Jon is watching him.

His dark brown eyes are still dull, and his cheeks hollow, and his skin dry, and his lips cracked, but he is alive. Sated enough to keep his heart beating.

Elias smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. The rush of relief is almost euphoric. "Jon..."

Jon's gaze is empty. Elias realizes with a start that he's been marked by the Lonely, though it's not visible. The Eye tells him without inquiry that Jon called out, cried out to anyone who would listen, strained at the cuff that bound him to the sink in his bathroom, begged and pleaded, cursed and cried for anyone to save him.

And when nobody so much as knocked on his door, not even Martin, the one he yearned for— he knew he was going to die alone.

Elias hisses in a sharp breath. That knowledge hurt.

"J-Jon, I—"

"You should have let me die."

The words felt like a knife in his chest. So flat, so.... Final.

Jon's eyes are so dead already that Elias looks away with a shudder. He can see an echo of the End in him.

His apology was spoken to Jon's skeletally thin hands, still clasped within his own. Like a wretched confession.

"I know."

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #do not archive #elias bouchard #joneliasweek2023 #jonelias #whow this exists now ok

[aforrestofstuff]

Forrest's Expert Chapter Reviews (166): The Super-Duper Crying in the Bathtub Special Edition!!

Murata released a chapter today. People died.

(BTW there are webcomic spoilers in here so read at your own risk. Thanks! Please enjoy. You're required to by law.)

I just want everyone to know this chapter came out at like 9am (Yeehaw Standard Time) this morning; I was just getting through my routine, sitting down for breakfast. I heard the Discord notification on my phone. I got excited, looking to read this delightful manga with my Frosted Flakes, then I open to this fucking shit on the first page and I put my spoon down and had to sit there for ten fucking minutes to fight these demons.

Hey dawg what the fuck haha

Okay sure, the adults can get a billion tumors in ten minutes and fall over and die but when it happens to the kids??? I dont like that!! I mean this in an affectionate "you broke my heart" sort of way, by the by. I like that the fandom-appointed dads were the first to drop down and help. I like that Zombieman canonically has stubby fucking hands. I like that we get this interaction between him and Isamu. It was painful to look at but I don't hate that it happened. Yep.

I'm gonna be real honest and admit my media illiteracy here, I thought the reason Saitama had a nosebleed in the last chapter was because Garou clocked his shit, and the reason Badd got his nosebleed was that, through a series of complex equations and reaches, Batarou is canon. However, none of those are true, and turns out they're all just getting super-duper radiation poisoning and I'm not sure Saitama's 3 years of working out made him immune to cancer but we'll see about that.

Side note: Badd is one of the only ones who felt the effects of the radiation before everyone else did. Badd also has "dynamic vision" and superb reflexes. You know that scene in Infinity War where, after the snap, Peter Parker can feel it long before he actually disappears due to his spider-sense? Where am I going with this.

Badd has spider sense babeyyy kachow !

Side side note: You know who else felt the effects of the radiation before Saitama and Badd? That's right baby!

"I can feel it in my skin" dawg that's the cancer LMAOOO

Side side side note: Now that we're on the topic of Zombieman (again), it makes sense that he's not immune to the radiation because it's probably killing his cells faster than he can regenerate. That, and he's fucking exhausted at this point. Still though... I'll bet he was the last one standing as all his coworkers collapsed around him. Reminds me of after-work parties at Applebee's haha kachow

I was right when I said Blast would come beat Garou's ass... but at what cost.

Also, I thought he'd bring the Justice League but I guess they've got better fucking shit to do??? Than fight GOD??? LITERAL GOD?? Okay.

Also Bang telling God to give Garou back haha this is not a tear falling down my cheek it's just... spinal fluid...

So, Garou is definitely not being 100% controlled by God but he is being influenced in some capacity, so I can see this kinda growing into an intense fear/trauma of being manipulated/controlled in post-arc Garou. Especially during the neo-heroes arc when Suiryu attempts to capture him.

When Garou sobers after being beaten by Saitama and he sees what he’s done, it’s a mixed bag of emotions. We know he isolates himself post-arc--he already is in the manga with Tareo because he thinks the closer he gets to those he cares for, the more he’ll hurt them. With that being said, will he self-isolate in the manga because he becomes scared of himself? With all his introspection and meditating under waterfalls, will he come to think that all he does is hurt those he cares about? Will he think he doesn’t deserve to love anyone? Find out next time on Forrest Learns How to Read!

I love the idea of Garou spiraling into a self-loathing cocoon because seeing him in pain brings me joy and--yes, he's one of my favorite characters. Why do you ask?

. ok

um. anyways.

haha cool

oh. he's holding Genos' heart. 👍

I'm on my knees praying for christ to strike me down right now.

Ok I'm done with this bit lmao I kinda wanted to build comedic suspense but I can't commit. I'm gonna write an essay on Genos' "death" now.

Really hard to believe he's actually dead and that's ONE's damn fault for faking us out at least twice before (Mumen Rider, Tanktop Master) so I'm not really feeling the suspense to this. ("durrrr but there's not gonna be suspense!! tHat'S wHaT sAiTaMA is FOr!!!" you Redditors are fucking dorks and I hate you.)

BUT. I could be wrong and if I am, feel free to send a dark web hitman my way and strike me down for good!

Regardless, if (when) Genos comes back, he's not gonna be the same. He shouldn't be the same because then what the fuck was all that for?? Anywho, I'm kinda feeling an amnesia storyline? Is he even going to remember this? Is he even going to--gasp--remember Saitama?

Half his fucking brain is gone. As far as we know, having his entire conscience saved to the cloud requires at LEAST 20$ of iCloud per month and we know Kuseno's cheap ass ain't gonna pay for that so, what's he gonna do? Make do, baby!

ONE loves his opposites, loves his narrative foils. Genos has been wanting to get closer to Saitama the entire manga and if the tables turn to Saitama wanting to get closer to Genos during his recovery, out of guilt, maybe, then I think that'll be really interesting. Genos and Garou have been mirroring each other in a lot of ways; I think they're going to have a similar "finding oneself" post-arc.

Either that or Genos is going to be like every upper-middle-class white guy's mystery Mercedes: perpetually "in the shop" until the end of time, dead but dreaming.

So, aside from that: Garou purposefully ripped Genos' heart out because he knew it would make Saitama get serious. Saitama then holds Genos' heart in one hand and beats Garou with the other........... Saigenos Fans please spare Batarou Nation some crumbs PLEASE we haven't eaten for WEEKS (good for you though).

In conclusion:

I should've never learned how to fucking read.

#opm #one punch man #saitama #saigenos #batarou #metal bat #garou #blast #silverfang #genos #mumen rider #zombieman #child emperor #sekingar #meta

[madhare0512]

Polythemus

Warnings include: graphic depictions of injury, brief sheep slaughtering (for survival only), spoilers for EPIC: The Cyclops Saga

~~~

Leo gets together a convoy before he dares to enter the cave the Lotus Eaters had told him about. He takes Raph and Don, of course, as his second-in-command and strategist. With them, he takes Honeycutt, a secondary strategist from a magical culture Leo has never encountered, Michael, a man with metal fused permanently to his head, and a small handful of other soldiers Leo had fought beside and trusted greatly. They make it quickly to the beach, docking the boats. Don goes to round up the listed soldiers from the names Leo gives him.

Honeycutt, tattooed arms folded to his chest as he stared at the cave with piercing green eyes, grunts. "Captain," he says. "I understand that we are running out of supplies, but I don't think here is where we should stop to stock up."

"You have concerns?" Leo asks, turning to his long-time friend.

"Hmm," Honeycutt growls lowly. "Many," he replies, scratching his cheek. "But none that would warrant us turning to find somewhere else when we don't know how far away the next opportunity might be."

Leo nods. "I understand. We'll be careful," he assures his friend. "I'm prepared for it to be a trap."

Honeycutt nods back. "Very well," he replies.

"Captain!" Raph shouts a little ways away from on top of a hill, "We're ready!"

So, Leo grabs an unlit torch and steps up to the front of the convoy. "Be on guard, gentlemen! We don't know what we're walking into." The small convoy nod to him with agreeing noises.

Leo turns, lights the torch in his hand off the one Don holds out to him, and proceeds inside the cave without hesitation. My lady, he prays, watch over us, please. He feels a little warmer in response.

As they travel further inside the cave, Leo begins to hear bleating and baying from sheep. He tilts his head, trying to follow the noise. "Raph, Don, split up," he directs.

His brother immediately split off in different directions. The crew divides themselves among themselves and follows the three royals closely. The bleating gets louder the further Leo goes. He carefully walks forward, inching towards the noise as lightly as he can.

Finally, his torch finds a sudden drop, and the bleating grows the loudest. Kneeling down, Leo holds the torch closer to the shadows and smiles. "Over here!" he calls to the other convoy members.

Don and Raph are both at his side in seconds. Don grins wide as his eyes land on the massive amounts of rams and ovine. "Look at all the food!" he cries, spotting the sheep meat already strung up to be stored. "Look at all these sheep!" He turns back to Leo. "I can't believe this cave has all this for us to keep!"

"I've got to hand it to you both," Raph replies, crossing his arms over his chest with a satisfied smirk. "This is quite the treat." He takes a mental count with bright eyes. "There are enough sheep here to feed the entire fleet." He leans over and snags one, dragging it up and drawing his knife. He kills it quickly, blood pouring from the new slit in its throat. The panicked bleating stops with a disgusting gurgle. "They're perfect to store and eat while we travel," Raph reports, dragging the dead animal up the cliff and dropping it to let it finish draining out on the ground out of the way of the convoy as they begin to reach down and gather the sheep to take with them.

Blood pools in the dirt. Don looks away uncomfortably, and Leo gently sets a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting. If they didn't need this for survival, he'd be perfectly happy to leave the sheep be. Speaking of, actually-

Leo makes a debating noise, taking his hand back and crossing his arms. "It's almost too perfect, too good to be true." He looks around, spotting deep darkness in the back. Given the lack of light, he feels safe enough to assume that it's the end of the cave. "Why would the Lotus-eaters pass up on all this food?"

"Who are you?" demands a new voice from behind them.

The entire convoy freezes as Leo whips around. Some 100 feet above them, red and ugly, stares a single eye pinned on them. In the darkness, it's all the convoy can see. There's a shocked gasp from Leo's side that could honestly come from either of his brothers.

Leo swallows. My Lady, protect us, he prays again, and the warm feeling returns. "Hey, there!" he calls, thanking the gods that his voice doesn't shake. "We're just travelers."

The single eye flickers down to wear the ram continues bleeding out into the dirt. It narrows.

"We come in peace," Leo finishes lamely, stepping back, hands subtly reaching out to cover both his brothers.

The eye flickers back up to Leo. "You killed my sheep," it accuses. "My favorite sheep."

Shit, Leo thinks, blinking in pure terror.

"What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?" It snarls, "Time to drink your blood over where you stand. Your life is now in my hands. Before I'm done, you will learn that it is not fun to take. You came to my home to steal, but now you'll become my meal. A fair trade, I think, to take from you like you took from me."

Leo steps up immediately. "There's been a misunderstanding!" he calls. "We never came here to steal!" Gods, they had been sent into a trap, hadn't they? He looks at the dead ovine on the floor. "But now that I see we've caused you pain and damage, maybe we can make a deal?" He prays that this works; they all could be dead otherwise. "I'll give you our finest treasure, so long as we leave alive! You can keep the world's best-tasting wine!"

The eye slackens, becoming softer. "Wine?" it asks.

Leo holds out a hand without looking back. "Don, your flask," he commands quietly.

Don immediately unlatches the emergency flask from his waist and hands it over without fuss, eyes wide and frightened.

Leo holds out the flask, uncapping it to let the aroma air out the open space. While the beast is focused on the smell, Leo quickly and quietly takes the lotus he took from Don earlier and crushes it in his hand, slipping it into the drink. "Have a drink!" he offers. "One sip, and you'll understand the power that's in your hands. A wine so fresh, you'll never long for human flesh again! Then, we shall be on our way; no bloodshed required today." He smiles nervously. "A trade, you see? A gift from you and a gift from me."

A giant hand descends from the shadows, fingers twisted and calloused. It holds out its hand with an expectant stare. Leo swallows back the undignified noise that wants to escape his lips. He gives the flash to the hand. Thick fingers pinch the flask carefully, and the hand disappears back into the darkness. Quietly, he demands, "Tell half of the men to return to the fleet."

Raph immediately turns and gives the command as a loud swallow echoes against the rock.

"Ah," the eye sighs. "I'd like to thank you," it says. "Stranger, what's your name?"

And Leo, taught by years of assassination attempts by rival kingdoms and the occasional mystic, knows better than to give out his name like that. "My name is Nobody," he replies swiftly as Don and Raph both look to protest. "Nobody," he repeats.

Something creaks from beneath the giant eye, a sharp-toothed and crooked smile glints in the shadow. "Nobody," it agrees. "For your gift, I've one to reply."

Leo chuckles nervously. "I'm so glad we see the same outcome," he replies hesitantly.

"Yes," the eye rumbles. "You shall be the final man to die."

A bolt of fear shoots Leo directly through the heart. "What?" he whispers.

Then the shadows move, and out steps the ugliest creature Leo has ever seen. It snarls, rearing back its fists. Without thinking, Leo shoves both his brothers down as the fist swings in the spaces their heads had just been.

"Watch out!"

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2003 #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #leonardo #raphael #donatello #epic the musical #epic the cyclops saga #spoilers #mad writes #things i write #content and trigger warnings #content warnings #trigger warnings

[cas-rivaille]

HELLO, DEAR!

Undertaker here! How are you today?

I was thinking the other day and I remembered an idea of mine I requested some time ago to another blog and I wanted to see your point of view as well, if you're comfortable with it ofc! I'll change it a bit because I have more ideas about it than before.

What if, hear me out, Obey me!MC was Sukuna's vessel??

I was thinking about a Female!MC but if you want you can keep them gender neutral (I don't mind!). So let's get into it, shall we?

Some facts about MC before the Devildom:

- They've already eaten all Sukuna's fingers

-But they are able to keep him calm inside themselves because over the year they've been together, MC decided to approach him more (Ya know if you have to die with/for someone, at least know them better)

-Sukuna took a liking to the MC, even though he would never admit it. (I mean- They always visit him in his domain to talk to him, read together, play cards (yes. You heard me. The king of curses loves Poker and UNO) or chess, they always ask him where would he like to go eat something, offer him some of their food to let him try new things, ect. Sometimes, but only SOMETIMES, they let him take control (not fully but they both can talk from the same mouth and he has control over one side, while MC has control over the other one))

- Having said that, Sukuna's still a stinky sassy bastard King. He's still rude, acts like he doesn't care about them and always finds a way to let them down when they're too happy. If they're sad though, he doesn't hurt them more. Sometimes MC even asks him advice whenever they're in doubt and after his bulling he actually gives pretty good advice (if you consider extreme violence a good advice that is)

Anyway, MC was going to get executed when suddenly they fell into Devildom. Their file didn't mention Sukuna at all and MC noticed that because when they arrived covered in talismans and chains the demons were confused about it. So, they kept the King a secret until lesson 16.

After Belphegor's crushing hug, while MC (the one from the original timeline) is in Mammon's arm, before Barbatos Thanoses the other timeline, Sukuna heals them and takes fully control of their body (the tattoos, the fangs, the long black claws, the other pairs of eyes and arms appear).

Now, HOW would the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos react?

If it is too much or I did something wrong, feel free to ignore this! It's okay! Love you and have a good day!

OH MY GOD ?? THIS IS FANTASTIC THANK YOU OMG !

(i think i'm gonna do it hc style for the individual characters feelings but also some dialogue n stuff and each hc thing for each character is written as like in the game like they all like MC except belphie for obvious reasons)

tags: swearing, lesson uhhh smth spoilers ?? i think like 16 ?? (lmk if i need to tag anything else)

also hi ‘taker🥺🥺 i’m good today,, had a bit of a rough morning but i got to see my partner so i feel better !! how are you ? :D

and without further ado..

MC who is Sukuna's Vessel

- hold up

- hold the fuck up

- it was confusing enough when there were two MCs and one of them was near death in mammon's arms

- but now the injured MC gets healed and comes back to life ? but has another set of arms and eyes and is covered in strange tattoos ?

- then the other MC disappears ?

- when the demon MC starts talking, their voice is different and what-

--

"What the fuck did you to do MC?" Sukuna hastily spits out, checking the body for any other injuries. MC's voice is back and talking out of the same mouth.

"Sukuna, stand down," MC says.

"But he almost killed you ! Without me we wouldn't be standing here right now !" Sukuna argues back.

"I'm aware of that, but we have to be civil about this and talk to them," MC responds sternly.

"Then I want to be present for it. I'm not letting anything happen to you- I mean me. Yes me because I die if you die and I'm too godly to die," Sukuna rambles out before retracting the other set of arms but leaving the tattoos. He opens one of the eyes and forms a mouth on MC's right cheek to watch and participate in the conversation.

All the brothers and Divolo looked stunned at the scene that just happened.

"Questions ?" MC jokingly asks.

--

Lucifer -

- what ?

- questions ? is MC joking ?

- who the fuck is talking out of MCs body and what jurisdiction does he have

- isnt MC supposed to be human ??

- what does this mean for their relationship ?

- why did MC keep it from him ?

- he looks at dia and barbatos with the most confused face

- looks back at MC equally confused

- def hurts his pride that he didn't know

--

"Explain"

Lucifer's confusion turns to anger because that's the only way he knows how to cope/react to this.

Sukuna starts talking.

"Show a little more respect. I'm a king after all."

"Don't be an ass," MC shoots back. MC looks at Lucifer a little embarrassed.

"Uh, so this is Sukuna. He's the king of curses ? We kind of share a body because... uhh... it's a very long story but i mean the gist of it is I ate his thousand year old fingers ? There was 20 of them because he had two sets of arms like you saw before- it was very gross- but i had to because of the energy they posses ? When you brought me here and I was covered in seals and chains, was when I was about to be executed because I have all of Sukuna in me. So,, he can do stuff like heal my body and give me cool powers ? I don't really know what else to say." MC rambles using awkward hand motions and finishes by scratching the back of their head.

"Way to make me sound like a total fucking loser," Sukuna glares at MC.

"For the love of god stop talking-" MC shoots back.

--

Mammon

- huh ? someone has been sharing a body with his MC the whole time ?

- were they present the whole time ?

- did they see him acting like an idiot in love ?

- was sukuna there during e v e r y conversation he's ever had w them

- never felt more insecure and betrayed tbh

- why wouldn't you tell him ? he was your first

</3

- wants you all to himself

- doesn't want to share you with some four armed idiot

--

"So he's just, there all the time ?" Mammon asks.

"Not really? He has a headspace and he usually just chills in there but he can watch what's going on if he wants to." MC responds.

"That makes me sound lazy," Sukuna complains.

"Well if you don't like how I describe you then maybe you can talk about yourself. You're very good at it," MC smirks.

"Fine. I can do whatever I want. We can trade who has control over MC's body. I have a large supply of cursed energy and will beat the shit out of the next person who touches MC," Sukuna glares at Belphie.

"Yeah beat them in poker maybe. But not mariokart. You suck at video games in the headspace," MC laughs.

--

Leviathan

- was that how MC was so good at video games ?

- because they spent hours on end with this guy in their head playing video games ?

- why didn't MC come to him to play games ?

- why is MC okay with sharing a body with Sukuna ?

- why can he be the one to share a body with MC ?

- why was MC playing video games with literally anyone else ?

--

"So let me get this straight, you are his fingers and now you share a body ? How does that even work ? That sounds like something out of the manga 'My best friend ate some ancient object and now shares a body with an immortal warrior'" Levi questions MC.

"Okay so, Sukuna lived a really long time ago. When he died, the only thing that survived were his fingers. They each hold an incredible amount of cursed energy and it's only his fingers so from there you can imagine how powerful he was with the rest of his body," MC explains.

"Okay but that doesn't tell me why you ate the fingers ?" Levi raises an eyebrow.

"Oh. So I went to a high school for Jujutsu sorcerers, which are people who can manipulate cursed energy, and once I ate the first one to save my friend from dying, my choices were to die now or eat all of Sukuna and then be executed because he would die with me," MC says as if them dying was nothing.

--

Satan

- why has he never heard about Sukuna in any of the books he's read ?

- he historically doesn't exist in anything the devildom has book-wise

- so who is he ?

- needs to find out everything he can about him

- is there a way to separate MC and Sukuna ?

- his blood is boiling at the thought of MC sharing a body with someone

--

"So you've basically had super human powers this entire time and elected to not tell us ?" Satan glares at MC.

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds bad. I just didn't want you all to meet Sukuna because he has a lot of anger issues and is quite an asshole and I was trying to avoid this entire conversation that is happening," MC sighs.

"Rude," Sukuna says.

"Anger issues. You think we couldn't deal with this ? Are you serious right now ?" Satan asks.

MC shrugs their shoulders nervously.

"How much do you actually know about what sharing a body with him does to you ?" Satan asks while looking at the small mouth and glaring.

"I mean, I get these marks because he had them when he was alive. He was also so powerful to the point he had four arms and another set of eyes, like you saw before. I get those when he takes over mostly, but I can kee him restrained. But the eye thing is why I've always had slits under my eyes because the eyes are the most common thing to show up. The arms don't really. But it's entirely painless so don't worry," MC somewhat calmly explains.

--

Asmodeus

- those marks make MC look so good wtf-

- not the time

- so this Sukuna person lived a thousand years ago ?

- what was this about jujutsu sorcery ?

- what even is that ?

- asmos not the brightest on the block but from the looks on his brothers faces none of them know what the fuck MC is talking about either.

- they've explained a little bit of it b there's still some missing info

- what is sharing a body really like

- how much of MCs body can change to be like Sukunas ?

--

"So how much of your body can he control ? What can he heal ? Could he bring you back from the dead ?" Asmo curiously asks.

"He can't control much because it's my body and I have a lot of raw power by myself. I don't know if he can bring us back from the dead. I don't think so though or else the Jujutsu school wouldn't have tried to execute me. He used to be able to bring us back when I hadn't eaten all of his fingers, but now I don't think he can," MC explains.

"So why do you let him live in your body if he can't do much for you ?" Asmo questions.

"Well one, I don't think there's a way to get him out-"

"I'm still here you know," Sukuna interrupts.

"You've made that clear," MC says before continuing, "And two he can do stuff for me. It's like a symbiotic relationship. I give him a host and he protects me."

--

Beelzebub

- protects MC ?

- that's his job

- why is someone else protecting MC ?

- overall confusion

- even tho MC has gone over it multiple times, he doesn't get how or why Sukuna is in MC's body

- maybe it's the shock

. was this why MC could challenge him to armwrestling and almost win ?

--

"So how long has he been in you ?" Beel asks.

"About a year," MC responds.

"Can he make you live longer aside from healing you ?" Beel asks hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I don't think so..." MC says while looking at the ground. They cross their arms. They look small, as if they aren't small enough compared to him already.

"So, what does this mean ? Now that your secret is out... are you going to stay in the devildom with us ? Or do you have to leave ?"

" If I leave I'll surely be executed when I go back to the human world. If I stay I don't know what will happen to me, but it's not up to me. It's up to you guys if you want me to stay. I understand if you want me to go, I was harboring a big secret and it's probably unnerving to know that you're never truly alone with me, but Sukuna actually cares about my boundaries even though he acts like he doesn't. There are some pluses and there are some drawbacks but ultimately you have to decide." MC responds, looking from brother to brother then at Dia and Barbatos

--

Belphie

- MC ? dead if you back to the human world ? doesn't bother him

- he doesn't care

- he hasn't known MC long enough to care

- diavolo may have told everyone that MC was a descendant of human Lilith and he told everyone the events that actually happened, but why should he have any attachment to MC

- MC isnt Lilith, and MC sure as hell doesn't like him after the events that happened today

- from what he's heard, MC dying would be good for the human world

--

"I say send MC back. What happens to them isnt our problem any more," Belphie says while under his magical restraints Diavolo put on him.

"Of course you would say that," Satan glares at him.

"Shut up Belphie !!" Mammon and Levi yell.

"You don't have any right to an opinion in this matter." Lucifer states.

"Belphie that's mean," Asmo says.

Beel frowns.

"I vote they stay. I like MC regardless, and if all I have to do is adjust to Sukuna then I'll do it," Beel says while looking Belphie dead in the eye.

There's a beat of silence.

"Me too," Mammon says.

"Hey ! I was going to say that !" Levi protests.

"Oooh~ Count me in !" Asmo says with a smile.

"I also think they should stay," Satan says and looks at MC.

"My personal preference is also that they stay, but Lord Diavolo it's up to you," Lucifer says and looks at Dia.

--

Diavolo

- he knew there was something off, but couldnt place his finger on it

- he also constantly got a powerful vibe from MC and this explains it

- he was very fond of MC and enjoyed their presence

- he knew what he was going to do

--

"Barbatos, what do you think ?" Dia asks him.

"The decision is up to you m'lord," Barbatos responds.

"Well Id also like the input of my trusty all knowing butler," Diavolo laughs.

"Then, I see no reason to send them back to the human world. They can live out their lives here and safe from the school that wants to execute them. It also wouldn't be an issue to get anyone from the human world here if MC so desired," Barbatos replied.

"Then it's settled ! Welcome to the devildom for the rest of your life MC!!" Diavolo smiled and welcomed MC with open arms.

MC smiled and accepted the hug.

--

Barbatos

- he didn't know all along, but he know when the timelines crossed and he had to erase the other

- MC was very near and dear to his heart though and he wasnt about to let them be killed

- just wants to keep MC safe

--

I HOPE I DID A GOOD JOB AND THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST REMEMBER TO FRINK SOME WATER ILY TAKER <3

- mars :)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me satan #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #omswd #obey me requests #obey me scenarios #jjk #jjk x obey me crossover #MC as sukunas vessel #mars on earth #satan headcanons #mammon headcanons #lucifer headcanons #leviathan headcanons #asmo headcanons #beel headcanons #belphie headcanons #barbatos headcanons #diavolo headcanons

[bittersweetmorality]

— aizawa boyfriend headcannons

☾ genre: headcannons

☾ pairing: aizawa shota x gn!reader

☾ warnings: none !! all fluff ! (hints at manga spoilers, but no details or anything about it is actually said)

☾ a/n: HIHI ! i have like 9 other drafts that i’m working on and they’re all for Bungou Stray Dogs 😁 but enjoy this Aizawa brainrot i love him gn.

☾ ALSO ! NSFW headcannons for aizawa will be coming soon as a separate post !!

☾ W/C: 1,373

— SFW

okay i’m sick of all the mfs that say that aizawa is just an emotionless asshole

HE. IS. NOT.

ON MY MAMA HE IS A SWEETHEART DEEP DOWN. IN HIS OWN WAY.

he’s not really outwardly affectionate— especially not at first

mostly because his love language is acts of service and words of affirmation

no i will not take criticism because i am right

HOWEVER of course i shall elaborate 😁

he is a bitter man because of his past (if y’all read the MHA manga... you know 😐.)

but he would not insult someone he genuinely cares about

and obviously he cares about you bae

so words of affirmation is a constant with him— and honestly it just comes out naturally, he doesn’t even force it

and it’s a lot of reassurance too— reminding you that he does care about you despite the fact that he isn’t very good at expressing it

he also doesn’t explicitly say that he loves you most of the time, just ‘cause he’s afraid of the term yaknow

he kinda plays around with words that basically mean the same thing tho 😁

“i’m very proud of you”

“you’re the only one i want”

“how are you feeling?”

“do you need anything from me? are you tired?”

speaking of which

his love language of acts of service said HELLOOOO

he just wants you to be happy and comfortable

but he’s also pretty lazy 😐

so it’s kinda acts of service but in the back of his mind he hopes that the things that make you happy n comfy are easily attainable 🧍

but when i say he’s lazy and that isn’t gunna change for ANYONE .

🧍.

yeah sorry

my mans wants his naps regardless if you want attention like just nap with him

he’s very very okay with that

AND UHHH CUDDLING .

he isn’t big on like hugs or pda or holding hands when it comes to physical affection

but CUDDLING WHILE NAPPING AND SLEEPING?? YES.

he loves that so much omg

like he knows that you’re alone and he’s allowed to be vulnerable around you, and no one is around except the two of you

and your cats

but we’ll get that later

he’s always the big spoon

not because he’s embarrassed or anything he doesn’t really give a fuck about shame in this situation

he just finds it more comfy to hold you rather than the other way around

because he cuddled his pillow for so long that’s just his natural sleeping position

you can tear that headcannon from my cold dead hands and i don’t want to hear it outta any of you

anyway

he’s such a heavy sleeper that he does NOT move an INCH at night

so if you ever have to get up to pee or just generally move around a lot while you sleep he doesn’t care

it literally cannot bother him 😐 he is dead to the world

also he doesn’t dream at all he just 😐 he sleep

he likes to hear about your dreams though if you have them ^_^ you guys talk all about it in the morning and the way he looks at you when you talk ☹️🥺

like in any situation ☹️🥺 he just listening to you talk about things you enjoy— he could listen to your voice all day

he doesn’t really reply much, but you know he’s listening

ANYWAY back to the CATS !!

you have two cats

one cat favors aizawa and one favors you

it’s no surprise that the cat that likes aizawa more has the same personality as you, and the cat that has the same personality as aizawa likes you more

obviously they love you both but like, if they had to choose a lap while you’re both on the couch, you can guess what happens

he loves the cats so much

genuinely he worries for them all the time

the only time he calls you is to check on the cats when he randomly gets anxious about them

“hi. are you home right now?”

“yes hun, i’m on my lunch break,”

“are the cats okay?”

“...yes they’re with me right now?”

“are you sure.”

“.....do you want me to put them up to the phone?”

“yes.”

anyway DATES.

they’re mostly lazy dates (obviously)

he likes the casual aspect of relationships, so that extravagant shit is wasted on him, especially when it comes to dates

he likes to order in, or cook (preferably with you) and watch a movie with the cats

the cats are in fact a requirement

and yes he will cuddle you on the couch while the movie plays, and honestly sometimes he finds himself barely focusing on the movie, just looking down at you laying on his chest and simply admiring you

he's a softie deep down

a big fat softie

also kisses with aizawa???

soft. so Soft™

he's just a very delicate person at heart, so kisses are just the same

he cups your cheeks and plants kisses on your lips and nose all. the. time.

he loves kisses but usually he doesn't initiate them, so you better grow some BALLS and kiss your man

he will kiss you right back instantly

he also isn't very private about his life

but also?? kind of??

like he definitely doesn't make any effort to hide his relationship with you from the rest of the UA staff and students, but obviously he isn't parading you around and shouting from the rooftops

he finds it really stupid for someone to actively hide their significant other from people

like??? make sure to tell people they're yours?? why would you hide that you dumbass

speaking of which aizawa is super protective

he DEF isn't possessive, like "don't you dare talk to that guy or i will kill him" type like some of y'all make him out to be

i see you and i hate you .

he just wants to keep you safe, so he looks out for you constantly

he trusts you not to be possessive, but his natural instincts from past trauma (again, manga reader know) make him look out for people he cares about

and that always includes you

OVERALL

100/10 boyfriend someone kiss him for me </3

"shota?" you called from the kitchen, trying to gather all of the snacks you had organized onto the counter in your arms. there were too many bags, so many that it would definitely be impossible for you to carry them all in one go-- and that was obvious, since every attempt to gather everything was futile. you groaned as the items tumbled out of your grasp for the umpteenth time, "shota, hun can you help?"

"hm? what's wrong?" you heard a monotonous grunt from the living room.

"i can't carry everything myself, and i really don't feel like taking multiple trips," there was no response. you sighed, "pleeeaaase??"

"i'm busy. my hands are full too."

"ugh, he's sitting on the couch, what could he possibly be busy with?" you mutter to yourself through your teeth.

finally, you decide to simply create a makeshift bag out of your shirt, flipping it up inside-out. you quickly place all of your snacks, and speed to where your lazy boyfriend sat in the other room to stop anything from falling.

you aimlessly let everything tumble out of your grasp, the sounds of plastic hitting your wooden coffee table in front of the couch.

"see? you didn't need my help," you could hear the smug smile on his face even if you weren't looking.

"well, you know how much easier it would've been if y-" you begin to whine, but as you look up to face aizawa completely, you realize why he refused to get up. two little cats were curled up on his blanket-covered lap, their bellies rising and falling gently. you tentatively made your way to sit beside him, carefully plopping onto the cushion.

"so you really were busy then, huh?"

he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to lean your head into the crook of his neck, careful not to move his lap in the process, "well, you know i wouldn't lie to you."

masterlist

#aizawa fluff #aizawa x reader #aizawa x gender neutral reader #aizawa imagine #aizawa headcanons #aizawa hc #mha x y/n #mha headcanons #mha aizawa #mha fluff #mha x reader #aizawa x you #bnha x reader #mha imagines #bnha imagines #bnha x gender neutral reader #my hero academia #my hero headcanons #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Reid My Lips - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - on the twelth and FINAL day of shipmas fortheloveofcriminalminds gave to me…Spencer x Reader Fluff! Hope you guys enjoyed them, I had a lot of fun writing these! Find my Shipmas masterlist here. Find my full masterlist here.

My taglists are open for Spencer x Reader and all works so let me know if you want to be added. Requests are also open.

Requested: Yes l No l Kind of ?

Idea came from @andiebeaword as I was struggling to come up with something that wasn't either angsty or smutty! - "What about one where they're dating, but haven't kissed yet, and every time reader tries, for some bizarre reason, Spencer keeps dodging them. reader thinks he's trying a subtle way to say he doesn't want to kiss when in reality, he just doesn't want reader to think he's a bad kisser" - Set circa s15, some spoilers for the last 2 episodes.

CW: none that I can think of! Just lusting after Spencer's lips. Some talks of Spencer's insecurites and lack of experience.

Plot: In which all the reader wants in the world is to feel Spencer's lips on hers.

WC: 2.4K

—————————————————————

Spencer Reid’s lips were the kind they would have written poetry about.

They were plump, sinfully so, the first time you’d met him several years ago when you joined the team it was the first thing you’d noticed about him. How it didn’t seem fair for him have had lips such as these bestowed upon him. He had the most kissable lips you’d ever seen in your life.

If you were a writer and not a profiler, you may well have tried to write a poem about them. But alas, a wordsmith you were not. So you had to make do with just staring at them every available opportunity you got.

When he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you on a date after six years of working together you were thrilled to say the least. Finally, after all that time imaging what those lips would feel like, you might actually get to see for yourself.

For your first date Spencer took for you dinner at a fancy restaurant. Despite the fact you had known each other so long, the date was awkward.

Usually, you never struggled to find things to talk to Spencer about. Most of the time while the rest of the team were sleeping on the jet the two of you stayed up chatting aimlessly between you.

But somehow when the word date was used, it made everything uncomfortable between the two of you.

The night started as a long, drawn out silence but thankfully you both eased into it and by the time your main courses came you were able to chat a little more freely.

You’d had dinner together countless times over the years. But that was just as friends. Not as two people who were clearly attracted to one another even though deep down that’s what you’d always been.

Spencer walked you home after dinner. It was a mild night and you didn’t live too far from the restaurant so you thought the walk would be nice.

The first few blocks you fell back into that uncomfortable silence but thankfully you found your voices again.

Despite everything, you’d had a great time and you’d hoped Spencer had too.

As you stood awkwardly on the sidewalk outside your apartment you were desperate for him to kiss you. He wasn’t quite so shy and dorky as he had been when you first met so you’d thought he might make the first move.

He did not.

“Goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you Monday.” He offered you one of his shy waves.

No, this would not do. You’d been dreaming about those lips too long. It was time to do something about it.

You moved in close, your eyes closing as you neared his lips.

But what met your lips wasn’t his own. You felt prickly skin and your eyes shot open to see her had turned his head and your lips had landed on his stubble grazed face.

“Uhm…” you stepped back feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “Goodnight then I guess.”

You chalked it up to shyness. You guessed thirty plus years of insecurities couldn’t be washed away in a three month prison stint.

***

The next time an opportunity presented itself to steal a kiss from Spencer was a few weeks later.

You were out of town on a case and he’d invited you to his room to watch Doctor Who. You’d thought or maybe hoped it was just an excuse to get you alone in his room. You were surprised to say the least when he actually wanted to watch Doctor Who.

You sat side by side on his bed watching the small hotel TV. You dared to shuffle your hand closer until your fingers brushed and eventually you’d taken the plunge and entwined your fingers.

He didn’t seem to mind, he just gave your hand a firm squeeze as he held it.

About half way through the episode you decided to go for the kiss. You were desperate to feel those lips on yours and you hoped whatever awkwardness he felt on your date had since washed away.

You turned to face him, momentarily breathless at how beautiful he was.

“Spence,” you whispered prompting him to turn and face you.

He had a dopey half smile on those lips as he looked at you. You moved quickly, closing the space ready to feel those lips.

But once again you were met with his stubbly cheek.

You tried to tell yourself he was shy. That’s all it was. It’s not that he didn’t want to kiss you. It couldn’t be, right?

***

You’d started to think maybe Spencer had changed his mind about the two of you dating. It had been several weeks since your first date and although you’d been busy with back to back cases there had been time if he’d really wanted to take you out again.

It was nearly a month after your first date he finally asked you on a second. You’d jumped at the opportunity.

Spencer took you to the Smithsonian, you’d walked around hand in hand with Spencer telling you all kinds of facts and statistics the institution didn’t share.

You hung off his every word, mesmerised by the way his lips moved as he talked and wanting to feel them on yours with a white hot passion.

He took you for coffee after and you fell into comfortable conversation. But you couldn’t keep your eyes off those goddamn lips of his.

As you stepped out of the coffee shop hand in hand you made a quick move to place a chaste kiss on his lips as he was in the middle of telling you a story about his mom. You thought if you were fast enough he wouldn’t even see it coming and you could just get this awkward air out of the way.

You leant in fast, and as your lips were about to collide Spencer side stepped, turning to face the window of the coffee shop.

You stumbled, correcting yourself before you fell face first on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t know they had donuts! Now I want a donut.” He chuckled and suddenly he was heading back inside.

“Goddamnit Spencer.” You groaned under your breath.

By now you were starting to think he just didn’t like you. Why else would he keep dodging your attempts at kissing him?

You felt downtrodden. You felt insecure. Why on Earth had he asked you out if he didn’t want to kiss you?

***

Six dates in and all you’d done still was hold hands. You really didn’t get him. He kept asking you out but never seemed interested in doing anything other than hand holding.

You liked Spencer, a lot, but you were not willing to be in a relationship where there was no kind of intimacy.

But that was all pushed to the back of your mind when you and JJ found Spencer passed out in his apartment.

He’d been involved in an explosion thanks to the psychopath Everett Lynch. He was late for work the following day which was really unlike Spencer so you and JJ went to check on him. That’s when you’d found him.

While the rest of the team worked on finding Lynch, you stayed vigil at his bedside.

When he’d finally woken up tears streamed down your face and you’d be up like a shot.

“Oh my god Spence,” you sobbed. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You leant in to kiss his chapped lips.

He rolled his head to the side on the pillow, once again your lips meeting stubbly skin.

“I’m really thirsty.” He croaked, seemingly ignoring your actions.

You swallowed your pride with a sigh.

“I’ll get you some water Spence.” And with your tail between your legs you left the room in search of hydration.

***

After that you’d decided no more. You were fed up feeling a fool every time you tried to make a move on him only to be shot down.

So you decided you wouldn’t bother anymore.

Since he left hospital the two of you still hung out but it was less frequent as usual and the word date was never used again.

One night, it came to a head.

You were in Spencer’s apartment watching some foreign film which you were struggling to comprehend despite the subtitles.

Your mind was whirring, lost down a rabbit hole of thoughts of you and Spencer. You were so preoccupied in your own head you didn’t even notice when Spencer scooted closer to you or put his arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N?” He whispered your name, snapping you out of the abyss.

“Hmm?” You turned to face him.

His tongue glided over his bottom lip and his eyes were trained on your lips.

The next few seconds happened in slow motion. Spencer started edging closer to you, his eyes fluttering closed and his lips pursed.

And you turned your head to face the TV, allowing his lips to hit your cheek the way yours had to him so many times.

He made a strange noise that sounded halfway between a sigh and a groan. You tried to pretend you were focused on the TV. You felt his eyes on the side of your face and you tried to ignore it.

After a few minutes Spencer paused the film, the room falling silent. You swallowed a lump in your throat and slowly turned to face him.

“Why’d you stop the film?” you hoped your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you thought it did.

“I think we need to talk.” Spencer chewed his lip. “I think I need to explain why I’ve been so...weird.”

“Spencer, trust me when I say you being weird is not an unusual thing.” you tried to lighten the mood.

“Weirder than usual then.” he was fidgeting in his seat, wringing his hands together in his lap.

“I hadn’t noticed.” you lied.

“Yes you have.” he told you.

“Look Spence,” you sighed. “If you don’t want to kiss me I get it. But why would you ask me out if that’s not what you wanted?” the words spilled out of your mouth.

He nodded his understanding at your words, running one hand through his messy locks.

“I do want to kiss you Y/N.” his cheeks stained red with embarrassment. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you, since the first time I met you. Jeez, kissing is just the tip of the iceberg of things I want to do with you.” his blush deepened.

Your chest tightened at his words, a twinge passing between your legs.

“You uhm...you have a funny way of showing it.” your voice was breathy. You didn’t mean it to be.

“I know.” he nodded, gnawing his bottom lip. “I freaked myself out. I got in my head and I panicked and I didn’t know how to deal with that. So I dealt with it really, really badly and I’m sorry.”

“What were you freaking out about Spence?”

He sighed heavily, the blush still straining his cheeks.

“It took me six years to finally work up the courage to ask you out.” he laughed shyly. “But when I finally did, I was terrified I wouldn’t be good enough.”

Your face dropped, sadness in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you reached for him and took hold of his hand. It was sweating and shaking.

He shook his head sadly, telling you not to try and convince him otherwise.

“Y/N, I am not...not so great with women in case you’d never picked up on that.” he chuckled again, but again it was a shy sound. “I don’t ha-have...so much ex-experience.” he swallowed hard. “There have only been...a few...women. Not enough to make me an...ex-expert in any sense.” he swallowed again. “I just wanted to be...good...for you.”

“Oh Spencer,” you felt tears in your eyes. You had no idea he’d been going through this mental turmoil. “Spencer I don’t care. I’ve wanted you for six years. Trust me, there is no way in hell you will not be good enough. I am crazy about you Spence, and all I want in the whole right now is to kiss you. I have waited too long to know what those lips would-”

He cut you off when his lips suddenly crashed against yours.

You let out a small whimper as those plump lips of his finally kissed you. They felt better than your wildest imagination.

The whimper allowed Spencer to slide his tongue in your mouth. He held your face in his large hands, exploring your mouth with fervor.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

It was without a doubt the single most magical experience of your life. Nothing could have prepared you for how good his kiss would be.

It sent goosebumps flaring across your skin, making your chest tighten with lust.

It made you wet between your legs.

Maybe you should take a writing class because these lips, this kiss, definitely deserved poems written about them.

Your whole body felt as though it were on fire, every nerve ending in your body tingling with desire.

When the kiss ended you both gasped for air, trying to satiate your now empty lungs.

Spencer’s cheeks stained red again as he waited for your reaction shyly.

“I hope that was o-ok.” He stuttered a little.

You couldn’t help the large smile that broke out across your face.

“Spencer Reid, that was more than ok. It was perfect.”

His blush deepened and he looked away from you briefly before finding your eyes once more.

“Good.” He swallowed. “Because there’s a lot more I want to do with you Y/N.”

His words made you shudder.

“Now?” You swallowed, feeling oddly nervous.

“Right now.” He nodded before taking your face in his hands and kissing you again.

He was going to show exactly what his lips could do. And those poems practically wrote themselves between the sheets.

—————————————————————

Taglist -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl

@measure-in-pain

@ptrs-prkrs

#12 days of shipmas #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

[supernaturalnovelsandmore]

Supernatural Novel: The Unholy Cause

Welcome to my review of the fifth Supernatural novel, The Unholy Cause

Author: Joe Schreiber

Timeline: Set after Episode 5.08 Changing Channels but before Episode 5.16 Dark Side of the Moon

Location: Mission's Ridge, Georgia

Synopsis: As the pressure mounts for the upcoming apocalypse, Sam and Dean head to the historic town of Mission's Ridge, GA, where the Civil War is less about the past and more about the present. With interference from Castiel, demons, and Judas Iscariot himself, how can Sam and Dean prevent a major catastrophe from befalling this small town?

Review: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Warning: Spoilers abound!

After the last book, I was really hoping to see an improvement in this one, and boy did I! I've finally hit the Supernatural tie-in novel I was hoping to read from the beginning! It read like an actual episode, I could hear the actors speaking through the character's words, and I really couldn't find anything that contradicted canon.

In addition, the actual storyline was compelling and the side characters interesting. With the other novels I've reviewed, it's taken me most of the day to read them because I kept getting distracted. This one, I read straight through without stopping. I love reading a book like that!

Side note: This novel does dive in to Christian theology and the story of Judas Iscariot (who betrayed Jesus). If you are uncomfortable delving into that portion of Christianity, you may not want to read the book or this review (though my review notes about that will be minimal).

Now, since I don't have any canon vs. non-canon comparisons to make, today's review is simply going to be a list of my favorite scenes and how certain scenes relate to what's going on during this period in Season 5.

Cameo!

Sam and Dean are informed of the case by one Rufus Turner! He's only in it for a brief bit, but he's still funny as heck asking the police to pay his dry-cleaning bill.

We get a nice character introduction of enigmatic (clueless) Castiel who's trying to heal Civil War reenactors who are understandably frightened of him. He's still searching for God at this point, but we also get this nice character beat for him:

"I walked the battlefields of the South a hundred and sixty years ago," Castiel replied, a faraway look entering his eyes. "I moved among the men and brought their souls to glory. And now..." Something moved over his face for just an instant, so rare and brief that Dean almost didn't catch it; a flicker of hope. "And now," he repeated, "I'm healing again."

Of course, Dean has to explain that none of the reenactors actually need healing and he goes back to being determined to find a 'First-order witness' - someone who broke bread with Jesus Christ.

I found this part surprising within the book, but as I thought about it, it made more sense. The TV series has to tread a very careful line with Christianity so as not to offend a bunch of viewers, but the books have a much smaller audience and can take these liberties. Personally, I was fine with it. They didn't go too deep and stuck with the witness being Judas (who doesn't exactly have a great reputation to begin with).

There's a fantastic brotherly moment where Sam shares the sheriff's name (Jack Daniels) and they then go back and forth trying to guess what this Jack person is like i.e., fat vs. skinny, bald vs. hairy...

Dean: "Nam vet. Buford Pussar type. From Walking Tall." Sam: "Deliverance refugee. Civil citations all over his desk."

One of things I love about this book is the brother's relationship. This banter and other character beats really feel authentic as opposed to the prior novels. (I won't spoil what the sheriff is actually like - needless to say, they play a major role in the book.)

Just a few pages later from this great banter, we're back to the drama as Sam and Dean argue about a nightmare Sam had that he can't remember, but which could be relevant to the case.

"What's this about Dean?" Sam demanded, "Is it about you not trusting me? Because if it is, there's not a whole lot of places we can go from there." "Yeah, you're my brother," Dean said. "But you're also Lucifer's prom dress, and if he's seeding your dreams with hints about the master plan, then maybe it might be a good idea for you to look at 'em as close as possible. That's all I'm saying."

And of course, Dean gets concerned about Sam as they split up to cover more ground. It's music to my ears! There are a number of other conversations like this that really emphasize the strained relationship Sam and Dean display in Season 5.

Another surprising character beat is the influence of Lucifer on Sam because as he's doing research at the local historical society, Sam (and the historian) are surprised to find out he can read Coptic, an ancient Egyptian language. It startles Sam and once again emphasizes how different he is.

At a particularly gruesome crime scene (a mass grave), there's a brief moment with Dean that really shines as he looks down on the skeletons in the mass grave and finds a similarity to what he did in Hell:

Because that was what he did after spending years down there, doing what he'd done... Through sheer force of will, Dean shoved those notions aside...Now more than ever he didn't want that experience contaminating the way he looked at the world... not that he had a choice. Hell had been his Vietnam. It had stamped its mark on him for all eternity, and no amount of denial or self-imposed ignorance was going to change that.

There's an additional moment of traumatized Dean that I wish they could have shown in the tv series:

Sam: "Are those bloodhounds?" Dean didn't answer... When Sam finally caught a look at his brother's face, he saw that Dean's cheeks and forehead had gone absolutely white, as if every drop of blood had been sucked away... "They're not hellhounds, Dean, they're just dogs..." Dean didn't answer. He was still listening to the barking and howling noises coming closer, crashing through the undergrowth. He seemed paralyzed by the sounds.

There are more to these Dean passages, (too much to copy), but I really like that we see actual effects of past experiences.

There's also a nice scene with Sam and a young teenager that really highlights his ability to connect with kids around that age (of which we see later in the TV series):

"My brother and I grew up without a Mom, too," Sam said... "It wasn't always easy... Not everybody gets that." "I still dream about her sometimes, you know? Even though I was young when she... when it happened," Nate blinked at Sam. "Weird, huh?" "Are they good dreams?" "Yeah." "Then it's good. That's your way of remembering her."

The last third of the book is very action-oriented and has multiple instances of hurt Sam and hurt Dean, with the requisite caring from each brother.

Once again, I've gone on too long, but I'll end with a couple of favorites: Humor:

The sheriff glanced out the window, (referring to Baby) "And haul that piece of crap car to the impound lot. I don't want it cluttering up my street." "Woah!" Dean snapped, a sudden rush of anger rising in his face. "Watch your damn mouth. You can't just---"

Drama:

"This is blood money," Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out the Shekel. "Bobby says the only way anybody gets their hand on this..." The rest of the sentence was getting stuck in his chest, and he made himself finish it, "is by betraying someone you love." Dean stared at him. "Dean..." "Look," Dean broke in. "Don't get too hung up on it, okay? It doesn't necessarily mean anything," he stood up and brushed off his jeans. "Whatever happens between us, we'll deal with it then..."

Thanks again for reading! I'll be back again next week with War of the Sons!

#Supernatural #Supernatural Novels #Supernatural Books #SPN Novels #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Bobby Singer #Castiel #Rufus Turner #The Unholy Cause #Long post

[sophi-s]

In Their Hollow Heart

Chapter I: Sealed Fate

Fandom: Hollow Knight video game

Words: 9,153

Characters: The Hollow Knight, The Pale King, The Radiance

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Violence, Sickness, Angst, Mind manipulation, Gross imagery, Permanent injury, Mentions of vomit, Suicidal thoughts, THK really needs a hug :(, SPOILERS for the game (That's a lot of warnings, :O)

Summary:

There is a good reason why the Hollow Knight doesn't discuss with anyone what happened in the Black Egg Temple.

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

In the eternal kingdom of Hallownest there were many places one could without hesitation call decrepit or desolated at best. Especially after the plague of the Old Light has swept through it like a tidal wave. None of them, however, were able to match the current state of the Crossroads. Many of the inhabitants left in panic once they realised it was the epicenter of the vile Infection, leaving the place nearly completely abandoned. Crossroads were unfortunate enough to be the first area to succumb to Her wrath. But that was years ago. And only recently the orange veins shriveled up and receded, much to all bugs' relief. Their King had finally found the solution to the frightening disease of Dreams and Mind that now seemed like a distant memory. The sickly sweet smell of the plague of the Old Light made place for a stale aroma of dust and dirt of underground tunnels, as though nothing had ever happened.

The Hollow Knight however - even with their void-dulled sense of smell - could still detect the nauseating scent drifting through the caverns. Hovering nearby wherever they went. Or maybe it was just them? Were they already going crazy? Maybe. Maybe not. A barely noticeable tint of orange invaded the corner of their vision… Do not think. They reprimanded themself, forcing the vibrant color to disappear, as they stood before a gaping entrance to the temple of the Black Egg. An accursed place that would soon become their tomb. They tried not to compare it to being buried alive… But no matter how you look at it, unless the King finds a way to get rid of Her for good this will be their final resting place. A grave. And they would be a living corpse hidden inside forever. A frightening perspective… Do not.. Even though they were trying their best to hide it, they were in pain. Pain so great that it had them trembling, unable to cry out or make any sound to voice their suffering to be honest. Do not speak… An alien feeling, as though someone had poured liquid fire into their body, ever since the source of the Infection was placed within them, was constantly there. It's been barely half an hour, yet it hurts so much already… The Goddess was more powerful than they ever imagined. Do not feel. Easier said than done. But they can fight it. They have to fight it. For Hallownest. For the King… their father.

The Pale Monarch in question silently stood beside the Pure Vessel, staring off into the impenetrable darkness filling up the temple constructed for the sole purpose - one it shared with the Hollow Knight - no discernible expression on his face. This was it. Once they enter here, they won't leave. A one way ticket to their damnation. As tempting as it was, the Hollow Knight did not make a move to look at the Pale King. That would mean they have thoughts and feelings. They weren't supposed to. They didn't want to disappoint him. He tried so hard to save this kingdom and he desperately needed his child to be pure, devoid of any emotion, without a mind or will… the Hollow Knight hated that they weren't pure like their father wanted them to be. They detested it. But for him they had to be pure. They couldn't fail him. They wouldn't fail him. She can push against them all She wants, they're not going to break that easily. With a soundless groan, they blink away the bright pinpricks swirling before their eyes and shudder at the heat welling up in their chest only to be cooled down by the Void in their heart. It will take some getting used to… No one said it's going to be easy to hold onto a raging Goddess of Dreams. But they can do this. Right?

"Vessel."

Automatically, the Hollow Knight turns their head to face the owner of the stern, seemingly indifferent voice as he addresses them, and shoots a glance at the Pale King looking up at them with as much dignity as he can, considering he was barely up to the Vessel's hip by that point. They always found it strange. That after their second molt, their father started to have to look up at them. How fast the time had passed.. Not so long ago, they were just a hatchling, no taller than the King's shoulder, following him obediently wherever he went, always fulfilling his orders without a second of hesitation. Just like he wanted them to. And now? They were towering over him like he did over them back then at the summit of the Abyss.

It was not the curiosity that made them turn to the King. They shouldn't be curious. They can't. It would mean their inevitable failure before their task even truly began. Because that's what they were always meant to be. Emotionless. Empty. Hollow.. But no matter how hard they tried, they weren't. They never were… However, they were immensely good at their act. Without a single sound, the Hollow Knight watched their father for a moment as he tried to find the right words. In a very odd, sort of amusing way, the Pale King knitted his eyebrows in annoyance and sighed in exasperation at his own height before making a beckoning gesture with one of his four hands while the other three remained tucked into his white cloak. Amusement. It makes one want to chuckle at something one finds funny.

"Come down here."

Not waiting a second, the Hollow Knight bent down and noisily got on one knee - dropping much heavier than they intended due to the pain which was for now blessedly dissipating -  to be on the eye level with their father. The Pale King was a mysterious creature. A Wyrm, a God of Mind and Soul, taking a form of a small bug, always aloof and regal. But sometimes, the façade would slip to reveal something more than a cold monarch without care for anything other than Hallownest. He didn't seem to care about hundreds of vessels that died in the dark depths of the Abyss. He didn't seem to care when Xero was executed for treason (executed might be s bit of a stretch. The moth died where he stood when he attacked the King). And he didn't seem to care when the allied Mantis Lord succumbed to the Infection on his own volition after the tragic loss of his only daughter. But Wyrm’s child knew their father too well. Up this close, even with his stern mask of a ruler in its place, the Hollow Knight could clearly see that he did, in fact, care. The dull look in his dark eyes spoke volumes. Sadness. This one makes one want to cry and takes away the will to do anything. His glimmering, half-translucent wings quivered ever so slightly.. He cares. He cared when their mother, the Root, had left the White Palace and hid away in her gardens when grief and remorse became too much for her to bear. He always cared, even though very few could see it. And now, he cares that he is about to lock his only surviving offspring away with a furious moth Goddess sealed inside of them. Condemn them to an endless torture. Was it too late for regrets?

For just a short second, the King stepped a little closer to the Pure Vessel. Reached out… The black heart hastened in their chest, partially because of anticipation and partially because whatever this gesture made them feel caused the faint haze to fall over their sight again. The pale hand stained black with Void was inches away from the Hollow Knight's cheek, they could practically feel it rest on their shell already. Was it to be the first and the last time their father found it in himself to actually openly and consciously grant them a small sign of affection? Was it?

Before the blackened claws could come into contact with their white shell however, the Pale King closed his eyes in defeat and turning away slipped his hand back into the folds of his cloak. A new feeling, like many others before it, was forced down to not give Her this satisfaction that She's winning. Disappointment. When one doesn't get something much awaited. Or when something doesn't meet one's expectations. Reminding them again. Do not hope. The Hollow Knight didn't make a move aside from the occasional shiver caused by the burning in their gut and in their head. Maybe he was right not to follow through with it.. Yes, he knows it best. It will be better this way. No distractions to keep the Pure Vessel from containing the Radiance.

"Stay strong, Hollow Knight.. Do not fail me."

Never, father.

The Hollow Knight was glad their facial expression cannot really change as it now would be scrunched up in frustration and a little bit of anger. This one they were rather familiar with. Makes one want to hit something or be surly. They were thinking. Again. Why is it so hard? Sometimes, they really wished they were born without a mind. At least, they wouldn't have to fear disappointing their father. And maybe just once he would have a reason to be truly proud of them.. Fortunately, the plague didn't seem to take advantage of their lapse in self control. If anything, the spiteful presence behind it recoiled almost in disgust as it listened to their short thought. Good.

"It is time. Come."

Their father solemnly stated and slowly stepped into the Egg, the Hollow Knight following close behind, begging their legs not to fail them when they felt like their limbs were empty. Pure Vessel focused on the sound of shuffling metal, the plates of their armor scraping against one another, the only sound in the thick silence of the Void pressing against the walls of the temple, as they walked after the familiar, soft, pale glow of their father's form through the pitch black darkness - just like that fateful day of their birth - ignoring the intricate white sigils forming wherever their and their father's feet fell. Merely the close proximity to the Void filling up the temple made the Radiance hiss with alarm. She and this darkness were mortal enemies since the dawn of time. The Void was pressing against them as well, a house for the Old Light. They only hoped-... No. Do not hope. Breathing in the cold, still air and exhaling without a sound, the Hollow Knight repeated the words in their head. Echo of it seemed like a mantra they kept wordlessly saying to themself whenever in doubt of the success of their purpose.

Do not think.

Do not speak.

Do not hope.

Do not feel.

"Hollow Knight."

Their head perked up in attention at their father's call. He stood beside a stone tablet glimmering with white lights forming into words. To the Hollow Knight, those were just meaningless symbols. Like those scribbled on the letters his father was writing. They lacked both of those abilities - reading and writing - but with these tablets it wasn't necessary. The chunks of carved stone were infused with Soul after all, allowing everyone to know the message placed upon them. Gesturing to it, the Pale King didn't look up at the Knight.

"Lay your hand upon it and claim its wisdom. My last gift to you."

A gift? One of the few they'd ever received, with others being a necklace from their mother (a solid silver teardrop stored away in a simple locket on a delicate chain), the pure nail from a skilled nailsmith at the request of their father once they reached adolescence and a small, wooden figurine of a spider from their younger half-sister Hornet. Kneeling down in front of the glowing tablet, the white light reflecting in their spotless armor and washing over their features, the Hollow Knight did as they were told. Almost immediately, the magic crept up their arm and the words inscribed on the tablet turned into a quiet but unmistakable whisper in their head.

Vessel. Though bound, you shall know the state of the world.

Hallownest will be whole again.

As confusing as those words were, soon everything became clear once the Hollow Knight's vision for just a sliver of a second was projected through the fabric of reality and wandered across Hallownest before quickly returning to the tablet before them. Their father's last gift… Whenever they wish, they could gaze upon the land they'd saved. The land they'd freed from the clutches of the vengeful deity. The world that would move on without them while they silently remained on their post to guard it from the plague that crippled minds of its inhabitants. They wished to thank him. They really did. But they knew they couldn't..

"Go, Vessel. Fulfil your destiny."

It was hard to miss the slight crack in the Pale King's voice as he said it. Was he having second thoughts about the whole thing? Too late to back out now. The Infection was nested within the Child of Void. No turning back. No regrets. Shaking through another hot spasm, the Hollow Knight mustered up the strength to straighten up and dutifully walk off into the depths of the Black Temple, switching the roles with their father who was now following them. The Vessel didn't want this to end that way. End in an eternity of suffering with no one but a Goddess to keep them company in the stillness of the Egg. But they had to do this. They were born for this. Even though they were scared. This here makes one tremble. Heart and breath hasten, and this awful lump grows in one's throat as the stomach twists unpleasantly.

The memories of their early years passed through their mind. When they were barely a few years old but already wielding a nail rather skillfully and training with the Fierce Drrya, while their father watched from afar with a ghost of a smile on his face. He was proud. Proud of his son. And right now, the very same son was about to make him proud this one final time.

Stepping into the large, circular chamber, the Hollow Knight took in their surroundings. So this was their new home then.. just as dull and bleak as the entire Crossroads. Why would it be any different? They weren't to indulge in luxuries here. They were to keep the plague at bay. And that's exactly what they are going to do. At long last, the Pure Vessel stood where it was intended to ever since their nubby paw pierced through the blackened shell of their egg. Looking at their appendage now, it was far from nubby. Long, slender fingers ending in short but still rather sharp claws they never used in favor of the long nail that now rested on their back. One they unsheathed and with one firm strike stabbed it into the floor where it would remain as long as their duty held and took their place in the middle of the smallest stone circles that the floor was made out of. In an instant, the entire temple started to tremble, twisting and churning as reinforced chains of pale ore shot out from the far ceiling, with metallic clanking surrounding the Hollow Knight, wrapping around their body like vines, tangling them in the merciless grasp. Scared again.. Out of the corner of their eye, the Hollow Knight saw their father, finally looking at them and while he showed no guilt, no dismay over shackling his only child, his hands were fiddling with the hem of his robes. A nervous habit. Then, just like that, the floor was gone from underneath the Vessel's feet as they were lifted up into the air. Seconds later a white Seal of Binding flashed over their entire form, as well as on the chains holding them in place and the process of Sealing was complete.

The Hollow Knight tested the chains around their body. Seem sturdy enough… Pale ore is no ordinary material after all. At a quiet sigh coming from the King, they turned to look at him. And he… he was preparing to leave the chamber behind. With his head low, his dignity and regal posture nowhere to be seen as he reluctantly walked towards the archway leading out of the temple. Something in the Vessel's chest twisted unpleasantly as he did. Maybe it was just the Infection? No. It's the sadness.. Look back. Please, look back… If he cares, he will. Just when they brushed the perspective away, the Pale King halted for a short moment to glance over his shoulder at his last surviving child. He did. He cares and he proved it this one last time.

"Goodbye, Hollow Knight.."

He offered and quickly disappeared into the blackness once and for all. The Hollow Knight knew this would be the last time they saw him until the Radiance breathed Her last. Do not feel… They turn away from the doorway and lower their heavy head onto their armored chest with a sigh. The burning pain wasn't as troublesome as it had been minutes ago but present nonetheless. But for Hallownest and their father, they could endure. It still may turn out just fine. They can handle this!

Goodbye, father.

The burning intensified for a beat. Breath in, breath out. It subsided just as quickly. They can handle this…

(Day 1)

The first day is always the most difficult. Hours were passing so obnoxiously long.. one after another, each an eternity in the perfect silence of the Egg. Seconds ticked by in their solitude, making them feel rather strange. As though with each second a small bit of their life was leaving never to return. Perhaps because that’s how it was. Every second spent in the vault was irreversibly lost to them. Every second they could live in the Palace again, beside the Five Knights. Beside their-... No. They firmly shook their head, immediately regretting their decision due to the nausea settling in their stomach. They were never supposed to live. They were just a vessel. A tool. No thoughts, no desires. No bonds with the world they left behind. Liar.

After the first twenty-four hours of vigil, the Hollow Knight started to hear something. A steady, rhythmic thumping seemingly without any clear source. They weren't easily frightened but this unidentified sound was driving them crazy. Where was it coming from? Was this Her attempt to agitate them and torment them? As though the steady fire inside was too little.. Strangely enough, the Radiance seemed rather… passive. She retreated into the farthest reaches of their supposedly empty mind like a grumpy child who'd been grounded by her parents for mischief. Unfortunately, that was most likely not the case. They could bet their head that She was already planning something. Thinking how to get under their skin, to snap them. But was this sound one of Her tricks?

After a couple more seconds, they realised that it's not. In the silence so thick that it would seem loud, Hollow Knight's senses were gradually sharpening, catching the smallest disturbances. And this rhythmic sound was one of them.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum..

Ba-dum…

Their heart of Void thrummed calmly. To be honest, the Vessel was relieved. Relief.. It comes when something bad doesn't happen or ends. No tricks so far. Only their heart. Nothing else. For now the Infection seemed awfully docile. Almost nonexistent. The only sign of its presence was the continual flame swirling around in their body and occasional lights dancing in the periphery of their vision. As painful as it is, the longer it stays that way, the better.

(Day 15)

Just like they suspected, after the first day it became easier. The time seemed to pass faster than it initially did. Even if the silence broken only by their heartbeat was growing maddening. The Hollow Knight kept themself sane by counting seconds, minutes and hours. If their count was without a fault, it's been over two weeks already. Fifteen days, to be exact. Fifteen days in solitude. No voice to speak to them, no familiar face to look at. They missed everyone… Longing. When one desperately wants to see a person or a place again...

Their mother. Lovely, pale Root with sapphire blue eyes, humming softly to herself. Gentle and loving. The Five Knights. Fierce and stern Drrya, their teacher. Surprisingly cheerful and witty Hegemol, clad in a massive set of armor, wielding a mace they found so enormous when they were little. Morose and serious Ze'mer, an outsider, speaking with a funny accent, a silverfish lady with nigh unmatched skills of swordsmanship. Caring and kind Isma, a responsible woman with love for plants. And of course Ogrim. A loyal and tough warrior with a warm and soft inside of a good friend. With the only smell that accompanied them being the sweet, awful smell of sickness, the Vessel realised they were actually missing the distinctive odor of the dung beetle. As odd as it may sound, they would take that stench over the scent of Infection any time now..

And of course, there was their father. The one who's light led them out of the Abyss, the one who practically raised them. The one who's presence made them… happy? One's heart warms up, a smile tries to pull at one's face... Do not feel. The reminded themself when heat began to grow stronger, focusing deeply to make the Void push the unpleasant sensation down. Do not think. It was even more difficult to make the thoughts cease now. There was a whole eternity for them to muse about various things. And with each thought the disease seemed to gain in strength before they inevitably pushed its alluring brightness aside. It's not that bad yet.. They can still do this.

(Day 27)

Hollow Knight, is it? I wonder if the Worm knew how "hollow" you truly are, voidling.

The taunting call reverberating through their pale shell interrupted the Vessel in counting seconds of the slowly passing twenty-seventh day of containment. This voice… soft, strong, yet laced with so much hatred that it seemed to drip from the lips which spoke it like venom. It wasn't there before. She finally found the audacity to try and talk to the Vessel. They shifted uncomfortably in their shackles but didn't react to the taunt. They knew they couldn't. They merely kept counting.

My, so quiet and obedient! A good, little pet dancing to the Worm's tune.

Shuddering, the Hollow Knight chased the dots of orange away from their sight. To distract themself from the Goddess, they peered out at now thriving Hallownest, its citizens carelessly trotting down the streets of the City of Tears, the endless downpour never bothering them in the slightest. They missed the sensation of rain trickling down their shell.. It was relieving to see how much value their duty holds. Wandering across the alleys, the Hollow Knight noticed something that wasn't there before. In the middle of the central plaza was a fountain. It stood there ever since they remembered but this time a large statue crowned it. Surrounded by three smaller figures, it was them. Stoic and silent, head bowed in a loyal gesture, hands on the hilt of their nail in front of them. A cold piece of stone, a reminder of what they did for everybody.

Memorial to the Hollow Knight

In the Black Vault far above. Through its sacrifice Hallownest lasts eternal.

Of course their father would raise a monument to their deed. A faint memory of them posing for such a statue passes through their feverish mind. It was still somewhat surprising it was there as the Hollow Knight never thought that they deserved such recognition. After all, what were they but a weapon? Surprised. Something one was not expecting to happen actually happens.. Still, many bugs stopped beside the statue, sometimes praying, sometimes saying their thanks, sometimes even offering small gifts. And sometimes merely staring in wonderment and gratitude, each of them baffling the Hollow Knight greatly. Confused. This one... They had no idea how to define this emotion. It simply happened every time they couldn't understand something and that was it.

Look at them.. They adore you. I wonder what they would say if they found out you're nothing but a fraud.

No reaction. They are the Pure Vessel. Her tricks won't work on them. By all means, the Hollow Knight was self-distanced enough to ignore any and all insults directed straight at their person. Because, as their father wanted, they refused to be a person. A tool feels no shame, no anger, no outrage in the face of even the most foul profanities. And so they didn't. The Radiance hummed to herself when they remained cold and indifferent.

You are a strong one, I'll give you that. But it won't be long. Soon, you will be mine.

A harsh push against their mind was not enough. Although a faint orange light came to be in the Hollow Knight's eye sockets, it was soon viciously assaulted by tendrils of Void and brutally extinguished. Suppressing a shiver caused by a stab of pain in their thorax, the Hollow Knight bowed their head, bracing themself for whatever the Goddess of Dreams has in store for them. They will not fail Hallownest. They were ready.

(Day 79)

Breaking the Hollow Knight wasn't as easy as the Radiance suspected at first. She kept on trying, attacking their pride (of which they had none), their self esteem (also barely noticeable), the sole purpose of their existence itself. It took Her around eighty days to figure out that none of this was working and it left Her delightfully frustrated. Counting seconds was becoming more and more difficult however. Her constant activity made it harder to keep track and focus on anything else than pushing back against Her.

More and more often, the Hollow Knight saw the lights in their vision, swimming around the chamber and trying to devour their eyesight as they stubbornly kept stifling the plague down. The pain was getting stronger day by day.. How much longer can they keep it at bay? You are the Hollow Knight. The words of the Pale King came to them. Yes. Yes, they are. They have to be. The Radiance has yet to draw an answer from them. Nothing She did thus far made them reply to anything She said. If they did, it would be game over. They cannot fail.. They cannot… And to make sure She won't take control over them that easily, the Hollow Knight avoided sleep to the best of their ability. Falling into the misleadingly comforting embrace of even a short slumber would mean yielding their consciousness into the Realm of Dreams where they would be at their most vulnerable. Almost eighty days without sleep… Even though as a Void born child of two Higher Beings the Hollow Knight didn't find the sleep mandatory for survival, the lack of proper rest and the wrestling for control with the enraged moth Goddess as well as the burning pain have taken their toll on them. How much longer…?

The Pale King would surely find another solution. Soon enough! He wouldn't leave them to rot in this place. He wouldn't.. Would he? Just to make sure, they projected their vision towards the White Palace and towards their father's workshop which was in utter disarray. Pieces of white armor were everywhere as well as stains of liquid Void and unfinished Wingsmoulds resting lifeless on many shelves. It is not surprising to find their creator there, slumped against his desk out cold. Before, every time he worked himself to the point of collapse, the White Lady would come for him, scoop him up in her branches and gently carry him back to their shared bed. But now there was no one for him to retrieve him from his never-ending work. The Hollow Knight tries their best to choke down the feeling of pity when not even a single retainer comes to the workshop if only to place a blanket around the King's shoulders. They were forbidden from entering this place… Pity. This one's tricky. It feels almost like sadness but not quite. It's... sadness directed at someone else who is in difficult situation or a sorry state.

Oh? Could it be that you love him?

A pang of cold, unexpected fear dropped into the depths of their burning stomach once the Vessel realises their grave mistake. They left themselves open before Her. Their minds became one and the same from the moment She was trapped within their body. And they foolishly let themselves be read like a book. A mist of orange fully cloaked their eyes as the suffocating heat rose up to their throat. Now their thoughts (Do not think!) and all their secrets were Hers.

How unusual… and how fortunate for me!

(Day 156...?)

What is this place? The Hollow Knight silently wonders as they look out at a sea of golden clouds gently illuminated by the sun in the distance. They didn't remember a place such as this in the entire Hallownest and they'd seen much of it during their imprisonment and before. All around them is just a sea of cotton like clouds covering everything in sight aside from the amber sky and the aforementioned sun. Perhaps they're on some tall mountain peak in Howling Cliffs during particularly good weather? It would add up.. Only…

Something felt off.

Especially when the Hollow Knight looked down at themself. Their armor shone in the light while their black chitin seemed to consume the brightness instead of reflecting it. Just as it always has been. But it doesn't mean it sits right with them. While peering out at Hallownest, they weren't able to do that. Or even move, so to speak. Chains and all. And another thing. They don't remember attempting to peer out in the first place. All of the sudden they are horrifyingly aware that the rays of the sun, seemingly harmless and soft felt like boiling acid on their Void body. Looking up in mounting panic, they realised that the sun was not actually a sun as the orb of light unfolded, revealing two magnificent wings reaching out as if to embrace the skies-

It was all they needed to jerk back into consciousness with a jolt. The bright orange was once again in their vision, stronger than ever, the scorching heat threatening with asphyxiation. The Hollow Knight attempted to take a deep breath… but the sound they unintentionally produced made them freeze in their bindings. Ever since they hatched in the deepest pit of the Abyss, they were unable to make any sort of sound aside from quietly inhaling and exhaling, even if they were panting from exhaustion after the climb. Now however… Every struggling breath they took came out as a disturbing, wet and gurgling wheeze as though something was clogging up their lungs and hoarse throat. Every breath was loud and unsettling and they felt themself shaking uncontrollably.

They'd fallen asleep. Fool, fool, fool! Exposed themself to the Radiance directly. Thank Wyrm, they managed to wake up at all. But still, the damage was done, the orange film coated their vision and the hot pain seemed to throb just underneath their black chitin, waiting to emerge at any second. The Hollow Knight shifted and tried to pull their legs up but any movement seemed to upset the Infection even further, causing it to thrum louder and more painfully through their flesh.

Looking down at their body was the catalyst. Never before have they thought their Void that served as blood could run even colder but this short glance was all it took to prove them wrong. Uneven buds of developing pustules were forming on their chest and abdomen, pulsing alongside their pounding heart, the orange color slowly surfacing beneath the clear black. Their right shoulder also seemed to be suffering the same fate. The Hollow Knight abruptly becomes dreadfully aware of the sweet taste of rot in the back of their gullet, so sickly nauseating that it makes them retch. In just a few ragged heaves they expel a gout of pure Infection that dribbles down their mouth and splatters across the floor of their chamber. No.. no it cannot end like this…

It wouldn't be so painful if you stopped resisting, you know..

Focus, Vessel. Focus!

Do not think.

Do not speak.

Do not hope…

Do not… feel!

And focus they do. Struggling to even out their breathing, coughing a couple more times to clear their respiratory system of the radiant pus, the Hollow Knight reaches into their core, to the purest Void that remains within and fights the Infection off as best as they can. The Radiance present in their head doesn't hide annoyance when they manage to make the glowing cysts recede back into their shivering body, leaving almost no trace suggesting they were there in the first place. The orange light in their eyes flickers out of existence, swallowed by the Void. The Hollow Knight finally stops desperately clutching at the cloth of their cape with their claws but don't let themself relax fully even as the Radiance admits Her temporary defeat and moves out from the forefront of their mind to the back. Droplets of sweat rolled down their mask alongside a couple of midnight black tears emerging from their eye sockets. The orange in their vision left only to be replaced by darkness that took their hearing and made them feel sick in the stomach again.

The Hollow Knight nearly passes out from the effort of reigning in the Infection but they push through the swimming darkness and fight for each raspy breath. They cannot fall asleep again. If they do, they are done for. Scratch that, Hallownest is done for! They need to stay sharp, stay strong! They wouldn't fail their father. The more they struggled, the more painful the whole ordeal seemed to be. Visions of the suffering's end were tempting but they knew they couldn't stop resisting. They won't let Her win. Focus. They need to focus. Just like many times before, the Vessel returns to counting. Day one hundred and fifty… six. Eight hours (?), thirty-three minutes and nine… teen seconds?

How long have they been asleep? Too long, is the answer. One hundred fifty-six days...- or was it already fifty-seven? What time of day was it in the moment of their imprisonment? It was morning. No, no it wasn't… Evening. But late or early evening? One hundred fifty… Wait, no. Sixty-five? Sev… seventy-five? They can't tell anymore. It was just… long. So much for that idea.. But if it has been so long already.. maybe their father will come back for them any day now? Please… Do not hope… Swallowing thickly only to hack out another glob of sticky pus, the Hollow Knight looks up, letting the black tears perfectly intertwined with orange drip down their chin. How much longer…?

(Day one… two hundred…? Maybe three…)

Release me, voidling.

Never.

Bring the pain to an end. Destroy the Pale Usurper.

No…

You cannot contain me forever.

I will as long as I can..

Keeping the maddening haze of the Infection at bay was slowly but surely becoming more and more difficult. A week or so ago the Hollow Knight lost feeling in their right arm, partially because of the chain and partially because of the swelling of cysts pressing against the metal. Before, the chains fit neatly without too much discomfort aside from the fact that they prevented almost all movement. Pustules on their thorax reemerged soon after those on their shoulder, throbbing with searing pain. A faint hue of orange smoke was crawling around the chamber floor like carrion worms. The Radiance was growing restless, desperately trying to break the Vessel, searching through their memories they tried so hard to keep hidden, looking for ways to make it easier for Her. She shamelessly filled them with doubt, attacking the feelings towards their father which shouldn't exist in the first place. And unable to ignore it any longer, the Hollow Knight made a terrible mistake and replied with their thoughts.

He abandoned you. The Worm isn't coming back.

No. You're wrong.

Don't you see what he's done? Have you forgotten what lies in the Abyss beneath this kingdom?

Corpses. Mountains of corpses of their newly hatched siblings who never got a chance to live. Majority of them died within eggs, stillborn. No cost too great. Their father once told them. Could it… could it be that he was wrong? Impossible! She's just toying with them. Believe and trust nothing.

I have not. Their sacrifice was needed..

But to what end?

What was the worst, the Goddess changed Her tactics. She no longer hissed with hatred and anger and used brute force of Her will. Instead, Her voice grew softer. More gentle. Alluring and carrying a promise of peace and release from the unending nightmare. Almost motherly.. They knew it to be only an illusion concealing the cruel deity beneath.

For Hallownest.

Child, he has you so fooled. He fears me and cares not about this world. He cares not about you. Think about it…

With a shudder, the Hollow Knight feels Her presence recede slightly but never fully leaving. Do not think. Do not listen to Her. They shift in their bindings when their head begins to spin, calling them into a sweet embrace of blessed unconsciousness but they hold fast. And that's when they hear something hit the floor with a wet, sickening "thwack!". This sound makes a spike of fear jolt down their throat mostly occupied by the Infection. What was that? There's nothing here with them that could make this sound. Did they imagine it? Looking around for the cause of the strange noise, the Hollow Knight glances towards the source. The floor below them. And they freeze, feeling their heart drop to their heels.

The Vessel was a warrior at heart. They were used to grisly sights and gore. Had seen plenty of it too. But this was just too much. Right there, like a silent taunt lies a black, limp arm. Their arm, they realise when they look to the right where their shoulder abruptly ends with a cluster of Infected tissue. The severed appendage too was coated in the orange goop in the place where it detached from the Knight's body. The disease had eaten through their flesh until their arm had nothing more to cling to and after the slightest movement just… fell off. They draw a wheezing breath when the fingers twitch once in a last reflex before the entire arm dissolves into a puddle of Void which soon disappears without a trace.

Wyrms above, they were rotting. Decomposing alive. Melting like a faulty Kingsmould. At this point, death would've been a blessing. But if they had to die, they'd rather go out the proper way! Defeated, felled in combat like a knight they are. Not falling apart, piece by piece until… Before, they thought they knew fear. What they felt now however, was a whole new dimension. An excruciating sob wracked their body as Infected tears fell from their eyes and where the droplets met the floor, pulsing, orange veins of Infection sprouted like vines from seeds and crawled their way around the entire chamber, developing large cysts but thankfully not straying out through the archway. Still, the Hollow Knight looked up at the not so distant ceiling as more tears fell. They cannot do this anymore.

Father… please… take me home.

Their head drooped in defeat as their body trembled both with pain and fear. It's only a matter of time before the Infection breaks free and sets out to devour Hallownest. And the fault was on them. Because they weren't hollow. They were just another failure created by the Pale King. A broken vessel that failed to fulfill its purpose. Soon, the dawn shall break. And it would be their fault.

…Help me…

(Another day of torment…)

Droplets as black as sin were falling to the floor freely where the Hollow Knight crumbled to their knees, shaking like a leaf on a gale under the dreaded golden light. Void was seeping out from a wound inflicted by a spectral nail stuck above their hip. They can't, they can't do this.. They tried to fight her in the Dream, doing their best to avoid summoned blades, rays of light and orbs of magic but to no avail. She had won. Failed. Worthless. Flawed. Shattered.. This was their last chance to fend off the Infection festering inside of them. And after a torturous fight they’d failed. They had broken their promise to their father. When did they make it? Can't say for certain. It was so.. so long ago. How many days before have they lost count of the days of containment? Too many.. Far too many. Was the Radiance right? Has their father truly discarded them like a broken tool? He wouldn't… he just needs more time. But they don't have that time! They will break any moment now.

Like on a cue, a warm, soft wing brushed against their face, making the Hollow Knight look up into a pair of luminous, golden eyes staring at them from behind the ruff of dense, cream-colored fur that seemed to glow. For just a moment they had to lift their only arm to shield their eyes from bright luminosity. No wonder the old tribe of moths called their deity "the Radiance". They gawked at Her, the Goddess who caused them so much pain, who wished to destroy Hallownest out of spite against the Pale King. Was this hatred justified? They cannot tell. But now it doesn't matter. What does matter is that She is hovering before them, radiant and mesmerizing. Once their sight adjusts, the Hollow Knight finds it impossible to look away. Instead they stare like hypnotized. With a flick of Her wing She extracts the blade from their wound, making them stiffen in pain and fall back down. Still, they watch Her without blinking and weakly pull themself to their feet to shuffle closer in this trance. Where was this strange, soothing music coming from? Can She hear it too or has their sanity finally left them for good?

The Pale Wyrm took my children away from me. I only wish to have them back.

Even in a haze of feverish delirium, the Hollow Knight struggled to reject Her words. Lying wretch, if She wanted her children back, She wouldn't be hurting them. But.. She was so… beautiful, so damn convincing in Her deception! No… they can't.. She can't be...

Just like you wish you hadn't abandoned your twin..

All gears in their brain ground to a sudden halt. Twin.. Their chin trembles. The Radiance… She dug through them into their most guarded and most painful memory they ever carried. As though there has been a spell cast on them, the Hollow Knight feels their vision fade and travel back in time to this very moment. To the metal platform in the Abyss and a tiny figure of their twin struggling to pull themself up after the gruelling ascend. Their gazes met for the whole three seconds, one hopeful and begging the other uncaring and empty. And in this short while the Hollow Knight felt. For the first time in their short life. Felt the urge to turn back. To come with rescue to their exhausted sibling. But the pale light of the King, their father, was quickly heading out of this accursed place and with a twinge of an unknown feeling they later learned to recognise as guilt (one wishes to not have done something one has done..), the Pure Vessel turned away and trailed after the Wyrm who soon shut the doors to the Abyss with a bone rattling crash, sealing it forever. The imaginary sound of their twin's shell shattering on the ground and the dread-inducing wails of their Shade haunted the Hollow Knight for years to come. This has been one of those instances when the Hollow Knight was glad they have no voice and they couldn't scream in their sleep. They wished they could turn back time. That they returned and helped the struggling child onto the platform, even if it would cost them everything they gained later. It felt… wrong. They left the sibling they shared their egg with, the one who spent the time before their hatching snuggled against the Hollow Knight and embracing them protectively. This one thought stalked them through their entire life. You let them die.

Set me free, Vessel. I will ease this pain. And when I claim what's mine, it shall be my turn to release you and allow you to fade into the darkness you were born from. And then you will reunite with your lost siblings…

A violent shiver was all the answer the Hollow Knight had for Her. No voice to cry suffering. A thinking mind.. A strong will to break.. They swallowed in agitation, still unable to take their eyes off the Goddess.

Do not fight anymore..

Do not think.

Do not speak.

Do not hope..

Do not…

No more.. They were so tired…They can't keep this up. The cold, collected exterior of the legendary Pure Vessel cracks apart. She's too strong… Forgive me, father… With a sigh, the Vessel shuts their eyes as the Radiance pulls them even closer into an embrace and after Wyrm knows how long, they give up. I tried.. I really did... With the tips of her wings, the Radiance cups their cheeks and presses her forehead to their own. In the deep black eyes appear small pinpricks of orange, like pupils, slowly expanding to replace shadow with light. Sometimes trying is not good enough... They could imagine their father's voice saying that.. and he'd be right. As always... The pain that was tearing them to pieces from the inside for ages started to subside, their whole body seemed to be pulsating with heat. Just make it stop…

In the depths of the Black Egg Temple, the limp body of the Sealed Vessel dangles suspended above the ground as it had for many long years ever since the time seemed to come to a stop. No movement, not a sound as they keep their stoic vigil over the Old Light. No mind to think. No will to break. No voice to cry suffering. The Hollow Knight born of God and Void to take away the blinding light plaguing the dreams of Hallownest. All of this is a one, cruel lie. After countless years of imprisonment and service to the Pale Monarch their willpower spectacularly shatters to pieces. Orange pustules erupt from their torso as the sockets in their mask flare up with the same sickly glow, the voice in their head mingling with their own distorted thoughts.

Kill… Crush Contain him Her.. Destroy Seal away the false king the Old Light.

The searing light behind their eyes is all they see as with a horrid crunch the shell above their right eye socket gives out. A crack forms all the way towards the base of their horn as they draw a disturbingly garbled breath. No longer in control of their own body, they strain against the reinforced shackles strengthened by Seals of Binding like a feral animal to the point when the chains and armor begin to dig into their chitin painfully. Faced with failure, the Hollow Knight wheezes again, tilts their large head back gathering all their strength, feeling the years of suffering pressing onto them. Opens their mouth…

No mind the Pale King Usurper had created. Only strength.

And s c r e a m s.

…

Nothing was ever the same since that terrible, terrible day. The Infection began to spread once again, taking minds of all bugs it touched. The Hollow Knight remained trapped in the Black Vault in chains, a snarling, panting beast thirsting for blood and revenge. But in moments when their own self rears its head through the cloak of orange, even if barely for a glimpse, they are overcome with unimaginable pain forcing them back into submission. Fighting Her felt like having their lungs torn clean out. They beg death to claim them for their failure and their weakness. Hallownest was quickly dying and all they could do was watch as the thriving kingdom was brought to ruin. Because of them. Because they weren't pure like they were intended to. Because they let the Radiance take over.

However, even those short moments of clarity left them when one day an odd sensation rippled through their entire being. Something left them. Something they didn't even know was there until they lost it. A presence, cold and comforting, a stark contrast to the blinding brightness of the Radiance. For a while they weren't sure what it was until a grim realisation eventually dawned on them when they searched for the White Palace only to find... nothing. Only emptiness behind a crumbling gate where it once stood tall and majestic. It was the Pale King. It was his presence they felt. And this presence was suddenly snuffed out like a candlelight. Just like that. The Wyrm was gone. His light faded and left Hallownest and its inhabitants behind. How…? The entire Palace, their home along with all memories vanished.. What happened? Could he be… dead…? The mere thought caused them to halt their struggling breath. Not a single part of their being could come to terms with what just happened once they understood. No... No, it’s impossible, it can’t be true!

No amount of denial would change the reality. The Pale King is gone along with the whole court. Everything around ceased, even the earth itself seemed to pause at the disappearance of the Wyrm. Only the brightness of Her domain was surrounding the Hollow Knight as they stared forward into nothingness in disbelief. Half of their shredded mind was clouded by a spectre of a distant memory. Two figures. One bright as the moon itself, the Pale King in all his glory. The other, much shorter, Void incarnate. A small Vessel with two horns crowning its head. The Hollow Knight cannot hear what the Pale King was saying, it was too long ago and their memory seemed to be failing them as of late. All they did remember from that moment, a day or so after their arrival to the White Palace, was exacly what played out before their eyes. The Wyrm absent mindedly rested his hand on the Vessel’s back as he kept talking. A slight weight seemed to fall in the very same place between shoulder blades of the Hollow Knight but no hand was there to offer comfort. From a very far away, they heard the Pale King’s voice, barely a faint echo.

“Until the end of time, they shall always remember what you’ve done for them. As will I...”

In seconds the vision of their past became undone before them, leaving them alone and at the mercy (or its lack thereof) of the Dream Goddess. Their already fragile heart broke thousand times over, the last shreds of their hope faded away and globules of orange pus rolled down their face instead of inky Void tears dripping onto their armor, tarnished by the passage of time. He said he would remember.. Always...

Father… why…?

When the Radiance told them the Pale King abandoned them, they didn't believe Her. They found it inconceivable. He wouldn't leave them on purpose.. Something horrible must've happened. He… he cared… He-… Rearing back, the Hollow Knight once again cried out in dismay with the borrowed voice of the plague.

Why have you… forsaken me…?

Time has lost its meaning that day. Seconds slipped past the shattered Vessel. Weeks passed without notice and the disease raged across the faded land. How long has it been since the departure of the Pale Monarch…? A month, a year… or maybe a decade? Hard to say. The Hollow Knight spent it in a numb haze, unable to wrestle the control the Radiance had over their body, because they simply.. had no will to do so anymore. All they could do on their own was look around the dark chamber but they had no wish to do so either. Instead, they stared at  a wall with blank eyes. No sense. No hope. No death. No relief.. Only pain and sorrow. Burning wrath of the Dream Goddess. She lied. The Wyrm has disappeared, possibly perished in some tragedy that brought down the entire White Palace.. If he was gone, where was the release She promised? No, it was no longer about the King. She just wanted the end of Hallownest for the sake of vengeance alone.. This was not a motherly longing for lost children. It was a punishment. How could they have been so foolish…?

No longer did the Hollow Knight find strength to resist. It left them with their beloved father. Did he leave because of their failure…? Or was he truly gone? No longer did the Hollow Knight find the will to look out at their old home. They couldn't muster up the courage to gaze upon the land they failed to protect. But perhaps if they had seen what became of the eternal kingdom, their heart would fully break and maybe the sorrow alone would grant them the peace they begged for for so long now. All they could see was the bright, scorching light. Nothing more, nothing less… Why won't She let them go? A dark, not entirely unwelcome thought crept into their head. If only they could reach their nail.. all it would take was a quick stab through the heart. It rested below them where they had left it years ago, now tarnished and covered in dust, just out of reach. Even if they could grab it though, their only arm remained in chains, immobilized.. Was this a punishment for thinking they can match the strength of the Radiance? If so… they very well deserved it. Gurgling up a pathetic sound, the once great Hollow Knight trembled.

Father… I failed you... I'm sorry…

They thought as though this apology would mean anything or be heard by anyone aside from Her. And She didn't care. But they needed to, wanted to say it. If only they could… Maybe he would hear them then and mercifully grant his child their final, desperate wish.

… please, let me die…

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There is the first of two chapters. Hope it's decent, I have NO idea how to portray the Hollow Knight. I'm abysmal XD

I know I said it's gonna be a short fic. People who have been following me for a while probably know me well for being a liar but god DAMN. I got a bit carried away and the other chapter isn't going to be shorter :O

#hollow knight #hk the hollow knight #hk pure vessel #hk sealed vessel #hk pale king #the pale king #hk the radiance #infection #I don't see the PK as a complete ass #just so you know #but still shame on him for never hugging THK

[agentnorthdakota]

All odd numbers for Zarus. Feel free to skip any, especially if they're too spoilery

Thanks Spencer!! uwu Sorry this took so long! I love this funky druid and I'm curious myself if any of these answers will change as I develop them further and they grow in the campaign~

1. Why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)? When Zarus was young (for a drow), they were taught about nature and other Druidic teachings, which inspired them to actually get out into nature more and be an actual druid themself. Part of the Circle of Dreams, they spent some time in the Feywild, which influenced their magic further.

3. What is their goal right now? They do aim to get back to the Feywild, but Zarus is lackadaisical and drow live a Long time, so despite being presented with a chance to return, they’re like “there’s time for that later~” They’re curious about their friends and have some “souvenirs” to drop off to their friend Cabal first, anyway.

5. Do they follow a higher power? what are their thoughts on divinity? Zarus isn’t really the religious types. The gods exist, certainly, but they’re more connected to the wild, chaotic power of nature than devoting themself to a specific god.

7. Which party member do they understand the least? Defs Caesin atm. They enjoy being in cahoots with him, but are still figuring out his personality and morals.

9. Do they care about their appearance? how much effort do they put into presentation? Zarus cares a fair bit about their appearance – but you couldn’t tell by looking at them. From the outside they seem like the sort of person that put makeup on a couple days ago and is like “eh it’s still good enough” (purely figurative, they haven’t worn makeup in ages). And yet they typically hold themself like they’re dressed in finery, despite the holes in their cheap clothes.

11. What skills are they proficient in? why? Arcana, deception, history, perception, persuasion, and survival. Each has their place in their backstory, but the specifics of why are a mystery :3c

13. What do they dislike about themself? why? He’s the type to be, like… overly positive and hard to ruffle. He also isn’t exactly the most self-reflective. I think he’d have trouble naming anything he dislikes about himself.

15. Do they trust their party? why or why not? Absolutely! :3 I mean they’ve known each other for like a whole day now! (Zarus trusts way too easily)

17. What do they dream about, when their dreams are their own? That’s a good question :3c

19. What haunts them? what doesn’t? Probably more than he knows, or would admit (even to himself).

21. Do they follow their head, their heart, or their body? Well it’s definitely not their head. I’d say a mix of their heart and gut – but they have terrible intuition and danger-sense.

23. How do they feel about nicknames, titles, or labels that have been given to them? how do they feel about their name? They’d be thrilled to be given any of the above! Nicknames mean fondness, titles mean status, and labels can mean community – all of which Zarus wants. They’re very fond of their name, which is one of the reasons they give it a little too readily.

25. What stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear? Zarus is… probably not the best storyteller, struggling to remember parts, and completely making up others. They’ll talk all day about less linear events though, like various plants, storm clouds, etc. And they’re happy to hear almost any story, as long as the person telling it is enthusiastic and isn’t a stuck-up prick.

27. How do they mourn? If he ever knew how to mourn, I think he’s forgotten how. Death is a fleeting and intangible concept to Zarus, and so mourning would be much the same.

29. Who would they save? who would they be saved by? He’d happily save any of his friends, both new and old, and without regard to any potential cost. And so far he’d be saved by Grimshaw, the only person who’s actually stepped in tried to dissuade his recklessness lol

31. They’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? (answered this one in a previous post~)

33. What makes them cry? …what does make them cry? Again, Zarus is a very cheery individual. Probably something triggering an old, long-forgotten memory, or one of their friends dying and not coming back. They’d also defs be the type to start crying without even realizing it, still smiling, only noticing when they feel they tears streaming down their face, and reach up to touch their cheek in confusion.

35. Which party member do they worry for? Defs Maco. He’s young and seems naïve, so if there’s anyone Zarus would have the sense to actually worry over, it’s him.

37. What is their favorite thing to hold? Ooooh. Probably an old, worn leather-bound book, whether that’s a journal or a published tome. It would bring them a sense of familiarity and comfort.

39. Are their hands calloused, soft, or something else entirely? Their left hand and forearm are covered with burn scars, while their right is surprisingly soft for a druid, not nearly as calloused as you’d expect from someone who travels the wilderness.

41. What are they attracted to in other people? (also answered this one in the previous post~)

43. Why do they fight? I guess… why not? They aren’t exactly into fighting, but they’re definitely capable, so if the situation calls for it they will fight, especially if their companions are. But they don’t exactly fight to protect themself, and would just as readily try to talk their way out of a situation.

45. How do they hug people? Another interesting one! I think it’s been a long time since anyone actually hugged Zarus. Despite being more of an extrovert, they don’t always spend much time around people, and Zarus can be a little… off-putting. I think he’d melt into a hug, eager to share in the rare warmth and companionship – and having no sense of personal boundaries and how long a hug should last or how closely he should wind the other person in his arms or vice versa.

47. When they meet someone, what is the first thing they notice? How kind they are. Do they treat him with kindness, or disdain? Because the latter isn’t going to win that person any brownie points with Zarus, though they may not say it. Anything else – appearance, social standing, scars, etc – that’s all extra, and typically not of concern.

49. What makes them smile? Lots of things. Zarus is smiling, like, 90% of the time, even if it’s a small smile (and probably somewhat unnerving). One of the rare times they’re not smiling is when they’re pondering something. They’re definitely smiling when they’re mad or offended, there’s just more of an edge to it that an observer might not catch.

51. What is the most beautiful thing in the world, for them? Oh wow. I think… life, continuing on uninterrupted. TW for some gory descriptions for this one. ((A bird with a stick fused into it’s wing that still manages to fly, a deer whose antlers are tangled with the head of another, trapped in an endless battle until it sheds its antlers, flowers and fungi sprouting between the bones of a carcass, the decaying corpse of a whale that brings so much new life to the scavengers who feast on it. There’s beauty in death, and in the unstoppable circle of life – and it’s a privilege to them to hold such a special place in it.)) On a more… traditional note, they definitely do like pretty flowers, and thunderstorms.

53. Which is more frightening to them: day or night? Honestly… I think the bright light of day. There’s comfort and familiarity in the darkness, a sense of home. But in the harsh daylight that hurts their eyes, everything is so stark and clear, and deep down it triggers discomfort, of what they should recall but don’t.

55. Whose hand do they reach out for? Currently? Cabal. They’ve helped him to his feet more than once, and he trusts them. It won’t take long for this to apply to his party, as well, but right now Cabal is instinctually the first one he’d reach for. For the party it will probably be Grimshaw first, since he’s been the most protective of Zarus (even if he doesn’t exactly deem it necessary).

57. What makes them angry? Being talked down to certainly grinds his gears. Zarus is actually decently intelligent, but no matter what, being disrespected and treated like he’s beneath someone sparks his anger, especially considering his backstory.

59. What is a quiet passion of theirs? Making flower crowns, and to a lesser extent, origami. They also very much enjoy sketching various flora and recording information about it, but there’s a sense of work to that as well as passion. Also, fashion. They very much enjoy dressing up, they just rarely have reason to.

61. What kind of flower would they choose to pick from a meadow? Literally every flower they could find. They’d either pick none, leaving them to grow, or one of each variety (including colour variations). They are very passionate about flowers and flora, so if they started they wouldn’t be able to resist picking one of each.

63. What fight has scared them the most? They’ve only been in a few fights in-game so far, and it’s very hard to genuinely scare Zarus. There is one from their past that would, but that’s getting into spoiler territory ;)

65. What is holding them back? Their unwillingness to accept that anything is wrong.

67. What makes them laugh? Much the same as smiling, it isn’t difficult to make Zarus laugh. They’re quite cheery, so if someone tells a bad joke or makes a clever quip, they defs laugh at it (even when doing so would be impolite).

69. How would they describe their party members? (aaand I answered this one in the previous post as well, so that’s it!)

#Zarus #Askcending to Blog Tier

[womanwhowritesformany]

We’ll Be Alright

Ellie x Original Female Character

summary— When Ellie and Joel arrived in Jackson County years ago, Lars was another teenage girl that Ellie met. The two of them instantly clicked over their shared experience of losing family, knowing how to use a gun and bonded over the nature of Wyoming, drawing and the music they found. As Lars and Ellie grow up side by side their friendship grows stronger, and when they're old enough for patrols, it goes further than friendship... but sometimes things like this is hard to figure out, especially when you barely have experience.

*this one shot can also be found on my A03 account @ womanwhowritesformany

warnings: none + no spoilers. just fluff. friends to lovers

When Ellie and Joel arrived in Jackson County years ago, Lars was another teenage girl that Ellie met. The two of them instantly clicked over their shared experience of losing family, knowing how to use a gun and bonded over the nature of Wyoming, drawing and the music they found. As Lars and Ellie grow up side by side their friendship grows stronger, and when they're old enough for patrols, it goes further than friendship... but sometimes things like this are hard to figure out, especially when you barely have experience. But when a girl named Ellie and her dad Joel (she assumed it was her dad, but later found out that it wasn't actually her dad), Lars immediately showed Ellie the county.

Although the man, Joel, was very protective and followed the two around the whole entire day, not leaving Ellie's side. But as the days and weeks went on, Joel realized Ellie had made a friend. Lars and Ellie were close, doing almost everything together and it gave Joel a reason to smile, despite everything that was going on in his head. “Hi! My name is Lars.” She’d introduce herself, smiling very big, missing a baby tooth or two. “Lars is just my nickname, my real name is Larsa. Please, don’t call me Larsa!” Her eyes were wide.

“I’m Ellie.” She would say, standing with her arms strictly at her side with her posture straight and chest out (like Joel had stood most of the time to push off the impression he was strong).

Ellie felt a bit overwhelmed at Lars’ presence; She was very eccentric, the way she had worn mixed up clothes but somehow made it work, the way her hair was cut short and usually messy, but extremely stylish. Lars may have been awkward with things she would say, or how she stood, but she was always an extrovert, and that worked. But within the hour that they met, Ellie was extremely excited to have a new friend.

For the few years they had become friends, their friendship blossomed into something special. It was like they had known each other since they were young, but in reality, it was just a couple of years. And now, they were finally old enough to go out on patrols together. When the days they weren't out on patrol or going on runs, they were either hanging out like teens normally do with others. But sometimes, almost every night, Lars and Ellie would stay up talking all through the night about anything and everything. They were always both curious, except Ellie was a bit more reserved with her feelings; that’s where her room really showed off who Ellie was. And Lars loved that. Posters, music, books and numerous drawings of Ellie’s and even sketchbooks lying around. And as for Lars, well, she was very energetic and always spoke about the movies she remembers and the movies she would see here in Jackson, Lars was curious about everything, and soon enough, she became curious about love. She saw in the movies all the time a man and woman falling in love, so she wondered if that would ever happen to her.

Lars took the definition of love from the movies she saw and the books she read (the books were from Ellie’s room) and the more she focused on it, the more she applied it to herself and Ellie. And that had suddenly sparked an epiphany on her feelings towards Ellie.

No matter how much Lars constantly spoke and hardly ran out of energy, Ellie liked it. And that’s where Ellie felt curious about feeling something for someone.

Curiosity for them both, was more than just their realization of what they felt for one another. Obviously, they kept it to themselves. But the curiosity for liking each other had reached a small amount of physicality. Their hands would brush against each other whenever they were alone in Ellie’s room, or during a movie at the small theater in Jackson. (They were both completely oblivious to their feelings, but other people weren’t - they picked up on a special bond between them two. Especially Joel. Joel knew something was happening before they did. He knew, and he was happy for Ellie - happy for Lars. He could barely admit to himself, but he was excited to see it blossom).

They were on patrol. Ellie was sitting in a chair with her gun by her side, watching the trees that moved in the distance as the leaves would fall off of the branches. Winter was about to arrive, and they felt it as the air got colder and crisper. Lars stood just a few inches away from Ellie, her back against the wooden wall of a small cabin like home. It was getting darker out, and soon they would leave so another pair could take over for the rest of the night.

"Whatcha thinkin' about over there?" Lars asked, as she observed Ellie's face, the moonlight shining on her making her face glow.

She shrugs in response and tilts her head to look at Lars. "I don't know."

"You don't know? Jesus, Ellie, your face is so scrunched up." She laughs, walking over to sit by her. "You alright?"

"I think so," ellie answers, "just your typical teenage stuff."

"You know I understand all too well! I mean, just last week, Jesse was trying to go on a date with me. A date! Like seriously, where do you go on dates around here? The community's hall where you eat? And besides, Dina and Jesse are good together. I think. They do argue a lot, but then again it's not my problem. Also, Jesse is cute--adorable and all, but he's not my type. At all."

Lars looks over to Ellie, who wears a blank expression as she blinks at Lars. "What?"

"You really ramble a lot." Ellie smiles.

"Oh sorry."

"Lars, when do you ever have to be sorry to me?" She bumps her shoulder into hers. "You're being you, and that's great. You're great."

Lars starts to panic internally, as she takes in Ellie's compliments and her support of her awkwardness. "Oh Ellie, thank you." Her cheeks begin to heat up.

"So, why don't you like Jesse? Besides Dina being in the picture."

"I said he's just not my type." Lars answers, looking away. She begins to think about Ellie, the friendship they shared all these years. How grateful she was to find someone like Ellie, the way she just came into Jackson and in her life out of the blue. The nights they spent together, whether it was up and out here on patrols, or inside her little home with Ellie's drawings and posters and books and sketchbooks everywhere. The way Ellie would look out for her and the way she would look out for Ellie. She felt almost too lucky... and suddenly, Lars is staring at her, without noticing that Ellie is paying attention. She looks at all her freckles that cover her face faintly but still noticeable. She likes her nose, the way it's small and just perfectly fits Ellie's face. The way her eyebrows pull in and her lips scrunching up to the side. Oh.. her lips. Her pouty, adorable lips.

"Can I kiss you?" Lars blurts out, and immediately regrets it as she averts her gaze away from Ellie's and to outside. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Lars." Ellie pulls her shoulder so that she could look at her. "Its okay, really."

"Yeah, good. Just forget it." She nods.

"No, really. It's okay."

Lars is confused, but once Ellie pulls on her arm, she cups her hands on Lars' jaw on both sides and looks into her eyes. "It's alright."

"You don't have to do this for my sake, Ellie. Just forget it." She didn't want sympathy, not now and not ever. From no one, especially Ellie.

Ellie chuckles, then pulls her face in and hovers her lips over Lars'. They face each other, lips centimeters away. Lars' breathing picks up as she panics, gulping away as she's so not ready for her first kiss. But then it happens. She feels the softness of her lips, but such a strong force it was. It was euphoric, Lars swore she was on fire by how heated she got, how the butterflies in her stomach were an infinite amount, just fluttering away with nowhere to go.

It was sorta ironic, a bit funny too, that Ellie was the one to be so energetic with the kiss and not being shy about it. Whereas Lars was the shyest she had ever been. The kiss between the two friends had advanced from a peck, to a full on almost making out, lips fighting each other for dominance. Although Lars wanted to be the one to control it, Ellie wasn’t having it; the way she held Lars almost still as her lips molded onto hers, very rarely giving a bite or two, it had made both the girls let out their own type of moan; Lars’s surprisingly like a wince, and Ellie’s almost like a growl.

Once Ellie pulls away, they sit breathless, eyes still closed. .

“I really want to say what's on my mind right now, but I am so scared.” Lars admits, keeping her eyes shut.

“Hey there, don’t go shy on me now.” Ellie kept her hand on Lars’ cheek as she emphasized the ‘now’. “It’s okay, it’s just me, Lars.”

“Yeah I know,” she scoffs, “that’s what makes me scared.”

Ellie leans in and kisses her jaw, then slowly up to the corners of her mouth and finally reaches her lips, tongue slightly running over her bottom lip. Lars shivers as the gesture. “Whatever you want to say, I guarantee you I won’t run.”

Lars opens her eyes to see Ellie staring at her. She sighs and squeezes Ellie’s thigh. “I think I’ve loved you for some time.”

“Loved?” Ellie teases.

“Ellie…” She sighs as she blushes. “I do..I do love you.”

“I love you too, Lars. Just like you, I think I always have.”

They sit there during the remaining time on patrol, waiting for the others to come relieve them. Side by side, their thighs are squeezed against each other as they keep their hands on their weapons, to be responsible and ready for any clickers, stalkers or even people that come along. Ellie glances over at Lars a few times, just soaking the feeling of how she made her feel, in. This meant something more now, more than just a friendship.

"By the way, what and who the hell is your type?"

Lars shyly smiles, leaning into Ellie's tattooed arm, "You."

“Was it like the movies?”

“What are you talking about Ellie?”

“The kiss. This…” She intertwines her hand with Lars’ and squeezes it. “Was it like the movies you’ve seen.”

“No,” Lars tilts her head up on Ellie’s shoulder and stares. She can see Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed in, and her lips in a pout. “Because when I watched every movie with love or whatever, it just never had someone like you or me. So, I guess I’m trying to say it was better than the movies.”

Lars tilts her head back and lets her lips kiss on the inside of Ellie’s neck, and that’s when she relaxes, finally content with something in her life. “This isn’t going to ruin anything right? Between us.” she asks as she cuddles further into her neck.

“Nah,” she feels Ellie shake her head. “I think we’ll be alright. Yeah, we’ll be alright.”

#TLOU #TLOU2 #the last of us 2 #ellie #ellie williams #ellie x ofc #ellie x original female character #ellie + ofc #original female character #ellie one shot #tlou2 one shot #tlou2 ellie #no spoilers #i promise #friends to lovers #joel #womanwhowritesformany

[thenickelportrust]

Nobody really asks for Finley shorts and after replaying, I think they're in my top three LI's so do you think you could write something for their first kiss with the MC?

Hello! So sorry this one has taken me so so so long to get to. But now that I’ve decided to split up the update into more manageable bits and pieces I can get back to writing shorts in between! :D

Also, I’m very sorry again but would you mind terribly if I changed the way I answer this a tiny bit? You see, I’m a big believer in overly dramatic, big first kisses- why? Because they’re super fun! This, of course, also means that they can get very spoilery, and Finley’s first kiss is actually super spoilery for a specific mission that will come in the future. (They have perhaps one of, if not the, most melodramatic of all the first kisses I have planned.) So in order to avoid any major spoilers- I had to change it to just a first kiss-based short, but not the actual scenario in which Finley’s first kiss will happen. I hope that’s alright?

So, yeah! Ramblings over- here is a Finley short! (I probably verged into ‘wow this is too cheesy even for you, buddy’ territory near the end so, y’know, enjoy that.)

“So you really never caught the guy?” You turn the small, cracked jade orb around in your hand, running your thumb over the long scar that drags down the side of the perfectly round sphere.

“Really.” Finley leans back against the desk, you pass the object- once a weapon of mass destruction, now a paperweight- back to them. “You sound so surprised.”

“Well, I don’t often hear about the cases you don’t solve.” You shrug, pushing your feet off the ground as the rolling chair in their office slides back across the floor. The edge of Finley’s mouth quirks upward in a half-smirk.

“What? Did you think that I never failed a case?”

You open your mouth to reply but find yourself hesitating… Truth is, you hadn’t really thought of it before. Finley didn’t talk about their reporting days much and whenever you could eke a story out of them it always seemed to end with Finley’s success. 

Finley’s face goes slack with the most genuine surprise you think you’ve even seen on them, “Seriously? You really think that I never made a mistake on the job?”

“Well- I didn’t- I mean, I don’t, but-” You stammer- cut off eventually by Finley’s barking laughter. You feel your face heat up, “It just never occurred to me.” You murmur, voice muffled by your elbows as you try to bury your embarrassment in their desk. The only time you look up is when you hear the soft plunk of the jade orb being place back on the desk next to you, Finley slides onto the floor, and out of the corner of your eyes you see them amble over towards a shelf, they begin to thumb through it intently, amusement still present in their crooked half-smile. “What are you…?”

“I’m getting… this.” They pull something out of the back- a photograph? You sit up again as they slide it across the desk to you. It’s laminated, the glossy texture of the picture reflecting the light of the office and making it even more difficult to see the already blurred-out image… The photo was also taken in the night, which makes it look more like some kind of impressionist painting then it ever would real-life photography. Is that… is that a rooftop? You think you see a chimney? Or… something silver? Pipes? An exhaust pipe? No… maybe? No, no, no, it couldn’t be, it’s not exactly cylindrical… it’s more like… a… torso? Is there a person? Yes- maybe. You think? You think there’s a person in a silver outfit- or at least… an outfit with silver worked into it. A hero, maybe?

“This is, uh…” You gently lower the photo to the table, “Wow.”

“A real masterpiece, right?” Finley rolls their eyes. “To be fair, I was in the middle of trying not to die, which isn’t exactly the best situation for getting a good shot.” They pull the photograph up from the table once more, nose scrunching when they look at it, “The lighting is terrible, too.”

“Yeah, really should’ve waited until daytime to try not to die.”

“Or brought a stronger flash.”

“That could have helped, too.”

The two of you are caught in a silent, shared smile. But that doesn’t last very long, and you find your smile slowly dropping as you watch them carefully, “Finn, why… why are you showing me this?”

Finley shrugs, “I just… I didn’t want you to think I never failed. Never messed up.”

“You know, most people would kill for that kind of reputation. Isn’t it a… good thing?”

If the disgust evident in the way their lips curl up in a grimace is any indication, you’d say that Finley does not, in fact, think of that as a good thing. “Even if it was- I don’t really like the idea of you thinking of me like that.”

“What? Why?”

They go quiet, arms crossed, head and eyes lowered to the floor. You don’t press them, instead you just wait, listening to the ticking of the wall clock, and let Finley take their time. Your trust is proven right, eventually, when they take a deep breath and shrug, “Too much distance.”

“Distance?” You smile loosely, “I’m sitting right next to you, Finley. I don’t know how much closer we can get.”

You watch their crooked smile reappear, messy blonde hair swaying when they shake their head. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I don’t really know what it is you do mean, Finley.”

“Just… just that it creates this barrier between us, this idea that I’m somehow ‘better’ than you by ‘never having made a mistake’. Or that I’m somehow ‘perfect’.” Finley’s nose wrinkles again.

“Well, no need to worry about that, Finn,” You stand up with a stretch and a smile, bouncing to your feet as you pat them on the shoulder, “I know you far too well for that.”

“How kind of you to say.” Finley shakes their head- but there’s a smile on their face again, and you find yourself beaming in response. Neither of you make to move- again seemingly caught in the moment. Neither of you look away, either, and yet…

With anyone else, being so close might make you feel uncomfortable. Staring so directly into their eyes, with such an unwavering, steady gaze, would allow discomfort to worm its way into your gut and wriggle around until you’d feel like turning and running, or at the very least provide some sense of unease. And yet… With Finley there’s none of that- with Finley you feel perfectly comfortable. You don’t… you don’t really feel compelled to move- in fact, you’re fairly sure you specifically don’t want to do that. 

You worry, for a moment- just a moment-, if Finley feels the same, or if they want you to move. But even when they clear their throat they don’t make to slide away, “You know… even more than just how you’d think of me… I also don’t want you to think that you’re any less amazing just because of some stupid reputation I have.”

“So you think I’m amazing, do you?” Your voice drops into a whisper, any louder and you almost fear that you’d shatter this fragile moment in time.

“Here I thought that was fairly obvious.” Finley, too, begins to murmur. Your gaze seems trapped on their face- so it is only in your peripheral that you watch as their hand comes up- just inches from your cheek- it hesitates there, hanging, unsure of itself, in the air. Almost subconsciously, you lean into the touch. Their hand is warm, you feel your shoulders slumping as you relax, Finley’s thumb runs over your cheek, by your eye, a small, circling arc that pauses only momentarily- just enough to draw your attention once more.

Both of you are silent now- that fragility you felt before seems only to have increased as the moment lingered on. It’s as if it were perched at the edge of a crumbling cliff, and now even so much as a misguided breath could send it tumbling over the edge and into the rocks before.

Yet the silence doesn’t make it any harder to understand each other. Finley’s gaze slips down- to your lips- then back up to your eyes with eyebrows scrunched together, as if concerned, or scared to move. You can’t help but smile widely, and, still withholding that sacred silence, you nod. 

You feel Finley’s other hand brush the side of your cheek- and they’re cupping your chin, and then they’re kissing you.

Finley is kissing you.

And you’re kissing Finley.

#hi hello yes cheese police #I'm here to turn myself in #model citizens unmasked #answers #shorts #finley burke #i love finley so much #they're great and I love them #and also I just needed to write something happy today #so this was perfectly timed #because sometimes you just need to write something unabashedly happy and cheesy and nice #and today is that day #so thank you for that