#like imagine if it reflects how all the time they spent together changed them and how comfortable they are as a unit not just together out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bbrissonn · 6 months

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𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐲 - 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

in which even if you've been there the longest, you'll always be second to her

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting

warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread

pairing: cole caufield x reader

wc: 5.4k (including lyrics)

a/n: the end is complete shit, but i really wanted to be done with this fic cause ive been working on it for like a month now so yeah sorry about that

guts masterlist

Lacy, oh, Lacy, skin like puff pastry

Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell?

Dear angel Lacy, eyes white as daisies

Did I ever tell you that I’m not doin’ well?

Ever since you could remembered it had always been you and Cole, the first picture taken of you two was the day of your birth, two days after Cole’s. Your dads meet at work, and quickly became best friends, and so did your moms when they met. When they all found out they got pregant around the same time, they were over the moon, already knowing their kids would be best friends.

And they were right. The two of you spent everyday together, your moms always taking walks with the two of you when you were still babies. When you became toddlers, playdates happened almost every evening when you’d get back from daycare. Cole was by your side when the two of you started kindergarten, graduated elementary school, started middle school, graduated middle school, and when you started high school. You were there for each other through it all.

You went to Cole’s games every weekends and week nights, even going away for a tournament with him and his family during spring break of 8th grade. It was like your two families became one the day you were born, something neither of your parents minded. The longest period of time you were apart was maybe five days when you went to visit your grandparents out of town in 9th grade.

Of course, that all changed when Cole made the NTDP team, meaning he would have to move to Michigan for the whole season. You were happy for him, obviously, but the fact that you’d be losing your best friend pained you. The two of you promised to talk everyday, but of course things always got in the way with his busy schedule and you started to work a part time job.

Eventually, your daily phone calls turned into weekly phone calls, and then every two weeks, and eventually you wouldn’t hear from him for a whole months some times. It hurt, of course it did, you always saw his snapchat stories of him and his new friends having fun, messing around, and he couldn’t even find the time to send you simple text.

You didn’t really understand where his sudden lack of communication came from, but it all quickly made sense when you found out from his brother that he had gotten a girlfriend, one that clearly wasn’t comfortable with how close the two of you were. You had cried in Brock’s arms that night, Cole couldn’t even bother to tell you himself about this, instead finding out from Brock when he was in town for a game.

When your mom told you Cole would be coming home the next week, your reaction confused her. You didn’t show any signs of happiness at the thought of being reunited with your best friend, instead just shrugging and mumbling a small okay. Later that night, your mom called yours, and she was as surprised as your mom about your reaction, neither you or Cole had mention about a falling out, and the two of you barely ever argued.

Cole’s mom questioned him when he came home, asking if anything had happened between the two of you, the boy quick to answer with a simple no. He hadn’t asked to stop by your house before going home, something he always did when he’d come back from an away tournament, something she found really odd.

When your parents mentioned going to the Caufield’s house that night for dinner, you lied and said you had work. Your parents questioned you about it, you hadn’t mentioned having a shift that night, so you lied again, saying you had to cover for someone else’s shift. They didn’t believe you, at all, but clearly going to see Cole wasn’t something you wanted to do, so they didn’t push it.

You didn’t hear from him the whole summer, but to be fair, you hadn’t reached out to him either. It was like he became a total stranger in the last year, slowly slipping away from you, and he did nothing to stop it.

But that all changed the day before he left to go back to Michigan. You had woken up that morning with a text from him, asking to meet up at your usual spot at 11. You accepted, of course you did, all you’ve wanted since the boy left the previous year was to see him again.

You were sitting in the same booth the two of you always sat, watching your phone as the seconds ticked by. Then, 20 seconds before the clock hit 11, he walked in. His skin was tan, his hair a little longer than usually, the only thing that hadn’t changed was his height.

“Hey.” He spoke softly as he sat down in front of you. Your eyes were piercing through his as your mouth stayed closed. “It’s nice to see you.” He added once he realized you were not going to great him back. His words made you nod a bit as your eyes stayed focused on him. He looked so different, but he still looked like your Cole, the one you spent every second of every day with for sixteen years.

“Mhm.”

“I wasn’t sure you were gonna answer me, honestly.” He admitted, even the way he talked had changed. You finally looked away from him, and instead down at the menu. He knew you were doing it simply because you didn’t want to look at him, the two of you had gotten the same thing here ever since the first time you came after one of his hockey game.

“Wasn’t sure I was ever gonna hear from you, honestly.” You mocked him a little. The boy in front of you sighed as he looked down at the menu as well.

“I am sorry.” Was all he could say, making you scoff before looking back up at him. His head was straight, but his eyes were still staring at the menu.

“Fuck you, Cole. I haven’t heard from you in almost nine months and all you have to say is I am sorry?”

“I know, I know. I fucked up, okay? Trust me, I know. And I am so sorry, Y/N/N, it’s just Bella… She wasn’t comfortable with how close we were.”

“So you decided to pretty much just end our seventeen years of friends for some girl you just met? Thanks, Cole, that just makes me feel so much better, truly.” You spoke, your voice laced with sarcasm.

“I didn’t end our friendship-”

“Oh, then what was it? ‘Cause last time I checked, you just decided to not answer me anymore, without giving me any type of explanation. For fuck’s sake, I had to find out from Brock that you had a girlfriend. I though we promised we’d always tell each other everything! You could’ve just told me how she felt and I would’ve backed off instead of just cutting me off like that. How do you think I’ve been feeling since you left? Have you ever thought about that?” You said, making him go speechless. Luckily for him, a waitress came and took your order. Cole started, going with his usual, but his eyes quickly focused on you when he heard you select something else off the menu.

“You changed your order?”

“Yeah, you’d know if you hadn’t cut me off.” You sassed, making the boy sigh slightly before looking down at his lap.

“Y/N/N…” The boy sighed, his eyes looking back up at you. “I’m sorry, I really am. I shouldn't'… I shouldn’t have pushed you away, and I am sorry I hurt you.”

“You should be. I had to find out from Brock if you were even still aliv. Have you even thought about how I’ve been feeling? First, you leave, promising we’ll talk everyday, and then you cut me off like we haven’t been friends since we were literally born.” You said, tears starting to form in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. You had already cried enough because of you.

“I know, I know. I am so sorry, Y/N/N. Let me make it up to you, please.” He begged, and you could tell he was being honest. Nothing about his body language was showing you that he was telling you the truth, you just knew. You always knew.

“Promise me, when you leave again, you won’t do the same thing. Promise me, Cole.” It was now your turn to beg. You wanted nothing more in the world than to get your friendship back, but you did not want to get hurt again. You refused to get hurt again.

“I promise. I promise, Y/N.” He whispered, his eyes staring right into yours. You nodded slightly, sniffling a little, and the two of you sat in silence until your meal arrived. You slowly started catching up, Cole telling you about his new life in Michigan, while you updated him on all the drama from your high school. When the topic of his girlfriend came up, you stiffened slightly. You knew she was reason he had stopped talking to you, and you knew they were still together since you saw them not long ago. You only wondered if she knew he was here with you.

“Her name’s Alana, I really think you’d love her. She reminded me a lot about you at first, I think that’s why I was so drawn to her.” He explained, a smile you had never seen before plastered on his face. Those words were exactly the ones you didn’t want to hear. He hadn’t just pushed you aside, he replaced you. He found someone to fill the gap in his life that was missing.

“Your mom talks about her sometimes, she seems great.” You said, forcing a smile onto your face. The truth was, from what you had heard from Kelly, she was nothing like you. Not only physically, but also in the way she behaved. She seemed a lot more outgoing and high-energized, just like Cole.

They were a great match, you thought. Perfect for each other. But then, the conversation you over heard your mom having the night before while you were in the kitchen and she was in the living room replayed in your mind. Kelly claiming something felt off about his girlfriend, sometimes giving the family weird looks while she was at their house. In the moment, you didn’t think much about it, but now it kept playing in your head. Cole loved his family so much, they held a very special and important place in his heart, so would he be okay with his girlfriend not getting along with them?

You wanted to ask him, you really did, but you knew you shouldn’t. Questions about how you knew that information would be asked, and having to explain that you just overheard a silly little conversation your moms had on speaker phone would be weird to explain. So, you stayed quiet.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care

Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time

Watching, hidden in plain sight

And ooh, I try, I try, I try

But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere

The sweetest torture one could bear

When Cole left for Michigan again, your friendship was almost what it used to be. There were multiple things that hadn’t picked up again, like your weekly movies night cuddling on the couch in his basement. He has a girlfriend, he can’t just cuddle with a girl now, you had to remind yourself every time you’d think about it.

It felt weird, like the guy in front of you wasn’t the one you grew up with, like he was replaced by some stranger. But it was him, it was Cole’s eyes staring back at you, not some stranger’s, his smile lighting up the whole room, his voice echoing in the house. It was Cole, just not your Cole.

Thankfully, he had kept his promise of keeping contact with you, face timing you once a week, and texting you everyday. But it was all so different. He was always busy, either with hockey, or hanging out with Alana, and when he wasn’t busy, he was sleeping. It was hard, but it all changed when he came home from the holidays, alone.

Your families shared a Christmas evening, giving each other gifts, talking during dinner around the table and in front of the fireplace. Festive songs were playing the whole time, the volume so low you couldn’t hear it if multiple conversations were taking place. Eventually, you ended up in Cole’s room, laying on his bed as he sat on his desk chair.

“I have somethin’ for you.” He mumbled, sitting up and walking over to his closet. He pulled out a letter, your nickname written messily on the front of it. “Wrote it when we were, I don’t know, seven maybe. Found it when I came back last summer, thought it’d be a good time to give it to you.” He explained, handing you the envelope.

“You had a horrible handwriting when we were young, there’s no way I can read a whole letter of this.” You joked, pointing at the messy letters that spelt your name.

“Shut up and read the damn thing, Y/N/N.” He whispered, his cheeks turning a little red front your teasing. He was now next to you, sitting next to you as you pushed yourself up. You carefully opened it, pulling the letter out carefully.

Dear Y/N/N,

I donot kno when you will read tis but I want to tel you that you are my favorite person ever. You are a great bestfriend and I hope you will be in my lyfe for a long time. I realy enjoi when you come to my gamez, I play a lot bedder when you are tere. I think you are very prety two Jacob talk about it all the time. I wish when you read this we are stil bestfriend becoze I love you so moch.

Cole :)

You couldn’t help but laugh at the spelling mistake he had made, Cole was probably the worst kid in your class at spelling, while you were one of the best. You felt your heart warm up at the thought of seven year old Cole writing this, the sweet smile of his on his face as he messily wrote.

Cole was reading the letter over your shoulder, he hadn’t opened the envelope when he found it, wanting you to read it before him. His cheeks redden a bit again as he read the second to last sentence, coughing a bit as he looked away.

“That’s real sweet, Coley.” You whispered, looking over at him with a soft smile once you were done reading the letter. “Your spelling wasn’t cute, but you know, you learned.”

“Okay, considering I was seven, I think I did pretty good.”

“You did, you did.” You mumbled as you wrapped your arms around him, his going to your waist as the two of you sat there for a couple of minutes, holding each other close. Well, that was until you were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, Alana’s contact popping up the screen.

“Sorry.” He said, picking up his phone and leaving the room. You couldn’t help the heartache you felt as he left you for her, once again. It wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be feeling so jealous towards her for having his attention, but you were. You had been feeling this way ever since he left for Michigan, you didn’t understand it at first, but now it was all so clear to you.

You loved Cole the way he love Alana.

Smart, sexy Lacy, I’m losin’ it lately

I feel your compliments like bullets on my skin

Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate

Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?

The next summer, right before the draft, you finally met Alana. Her hair sat perfectly, her outfit hugging her perfect body as the two arrived at the restaurant. Your parents decided to have a night out to celebrate the two of you finishing high school, and of course since Alana was in town, she was invited.

You were sitting next to Brock, Cole in front of his brother and Alana in front of you. Your parents were in their own little worlds, your moms gossiping about who knows what, and your dads talking about sports like always.

“You look really pretty.” Alana said after a couple of minutes of the two of you being quiet and listening to the brothers. You were previously focused on the two, but your eyes quickly moved over to her when you heard her voice. It was so sweet, like an angel had just talked. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Cole look over at her briefly, a grin appearing on his face.

You knew she was trying to be nice, befriend you since you were such an important part of her boyfriend’s life. Yet her words made a bullet shaped hole form in your heart. A year ago she had pretty much forced Cole to leave you behind and forget you even existed, and here she was, trying to be all friendly and nice to you.

“You too.” You mumbled, thankfully the server arrived at the same time, taking your orders meaning your conversation witht he girl wouldn’t continue any longer.

“So, Alana, where are you going to college next year?” Your mom asked once all your plates had arrived and you all started eating.

“Wisconsin.” She answered with a smile, smiling shortly at Cole before looking over to your mom. Great. Now you’d be stuck having to see them together every single day next year. Fucking amazing.

In the car ride home, the only thing your mom was capable of talking about was how amazing Alana was. Alana this, Alana that. You were so fucking tired of hearing everyone talk about this girl all the time. You tried to block out her words until your name was mentioned.

“Honestly, Y/N, I always thought you and Cole were going to end up dating one day, but this Alana girl, god, she’s perfect for him!” She exclaimed, unaware of your burning crush for the youngest Caufield siblings. That was the last thing you needed to hear your own mother say. When you finally arrived home, you were quick to make your way to your room, locking the door and going to sleep.

The next morning you woke up to a couple of texts from both boys, but mainly from Brock, asking if you were okay and why you hadn’t answered either of them. Normally, whenever you wouldn’t text the siblings after telling them you would, Cole would text for hours, spamming you letters just so you would answer. One time, he almost came over to your house at midnight after you hadn’t text him for ten hours.

This time it was different thought. Cole had only left two messages, compared to the hundreds he used to send.

Hey you get home okay?

Are you alright?

That was it. No, do I need to come over? Did something happen? Is everyone okay? Answer me please. Nothing. Not even a good night, granted you didn’t text him that either, but it all just felt so weird. It was like your friendship was back, but with an obstacle that made it impossible for the two of you to go back to how your friendship was before he left for Michigan. The obstacle being Alana, of course.

You eventually texted them, telling the both of them that you had fallen asleep almost as soon as you got home and forgot to text them. Brock answered you almost immediately, while Cole didn’t answer you until later that night. You found out during the afternoon that him and Alana were spending the day together, just them, meaning all Cole was focused on was her. Not you, her.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care

Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots

You got the one thing that I want

Ooh, I try, I try, I try

Try to rationalize, people are people

But it’s like you’re made of angel dust

You never thought of yourself has a greedy person, well that was until Alana, of course. You hated her. You had been in Cole’s life since the beginning, literally, you were there for him through every step of his career, whether that be his first game to away tournaments. You were there for all of it. Until you weren’t.

You weren’t the first person he hugged after his game anymore, and you sure as hell weren’t the first he hugged when he got drafted by Montreal. You weren’t even in Vancouver, the boy completely forgetting to ask for a ticket for you. So, here you were, on your couch watching as Cole smiled brightly into the camera, the habs jersey engulfing him.

You knew it was rubbish, he shouldn’t have gotten picked at the fifteenth spot. He was so much better than many guys that got drafted before him, but you knew deep down why the teams had chosen them over him. He was too small. Guys before him were almost all at least half a foot taller than him, stronger than him, of course general managers and scouts would look at them before him. But if going fifteenth meant getting drafted by the Canadians, then you were fine with it.

When you were kids, the Caufield siblings would always talk about one day being the coach of the Canadians, even going as far as taking French classes in high school. Back then, you would all just laugh about it, but now here he was, getting drafted by them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so proud of him, this moment not even coming close to when he told you he made the NTDP squad.

Tears formed in your eyes as you watched your lifelong best friend, who felt like home and a completely stranger at the same time, accomplish his dream. Yet your heart ached as the camera showed his family, Brock and Alana sharing a hug as they all cheered for him. That should’ve been your spot.

You had been there for everything, and suddenly this girl just shows up and takes your spot? It made you angry, so angry. She had everything you wanted, she had the one boy you ever wanted. Knowing you’d have to be on the same campus as them next year only making it hurt so much more. You’d be stuck seeing her be with him every single day. See her enjoy having the one thing you’ve ever truly wanted.

You hated yourself for not realizing your feelings for the boy sooner, maybe if you had you’d be the one wearing his new jersey at the moment. Instead, you’re laying on your bed, Brock on the other line of the phone since Cole was apparently too busy to answer you.

“It was weird.” The oldest sibling stated, making you fur your brows slightly.

“What do you mean?” You questioned.

“Not having you there. It was so peaceful, I loved it.” The boy joked making you roll your eyes as a grin grew on your face. Brock laughed, clearly proud of the very sad joke he had made.

“It was so obvious I wasn’t there. I would’ve never let you walk out the hotel room with that suit.” You teased, making the boy gasp a bit.

“Was it really that bad?” He whispered after a couple of seconds making you giggle a bit.

“No. You looked great.”

“I am serious though, Y/N/N. It was weird not having you there. I know Cole will never admit it, but he regrets not inviting you, you know.” The boy told you, his tone going from a light one to a very serious one.

“Is it bad if I say I am not that mad I am not there?” You mumbled after a short period of silence. Your words confused the boy on the other end of the line.

“What? But you and Cole have been talking about this for years. He should’ve invited you.” Brock stated, getting a little worked up at the end. “You’re more family than she is.”

“She’s more important to Cole than me. She’s his best friend now, not me.” You told the boy. You had been thinking about it for a while, but saying the words out loud hurt so much more than you though it would.

“He’s being stupid. He remembered to invite some of our cousins we haven’t seen since we were babies, but forgot you? He’s so fucking stupid.”

“She doesn’t want me there. She thinks of me as like… an obstacle, I guess. I was getting in the way of her relationship with him at the beginning, she asked him to stop talking to me and he did. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked him not to invite me and he agreed.”

“Do you? Get in the way?” You knew he wasn’t asking it in a rude way. He just wanted to know if you had done something to make her act that way about you.

“No. At least I don’t think so. But if Cole would’ve told me before they started dating that he was seeing, I probably would’ve became one on purpose.” You admitted into the phone, leaving Brock a little shock.

“You love him?”

“Yeah. I hate her for taking him away from him, but she makes him so happy. She makes him happy, not me.” You cried out, tears starting to form in the brim of your eyes.

“Does he know?” The boy asked. You scoffed loudly, blinking the tears away before they fell on your cheeks.

“Of course not.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“And give her a reason to actually think of me as an obstacle and possible lose my friendship with Cole? Absolutely not.”

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

The first month of college surprisingly went quite smoothly, you barely ever ran into Cole and Alana. But that all changed when the first game of the season approached, Brock asking you to be there of course. Being so close with Cole meant you had also always been there for Brock’s big moments in the show. You were for his first USHL and College game, having to skip a little school sometimes. But now you had no excuse not to come.

So, here you were in the stands of the Khol centre, your friends standing next to you as the crowd cheered the Badgers on. Alana was sitting a couple of rows in front, sitting with the friends she had made over the last month and a half. You couldn’t help the jealously you felt every time your eyes landed on her, a Wisconsin jersey hiding her frame, C. Caufield written on the back.

Your feeling only grew stronger when you made your way down to where Brock had told you to wait, which was of course where Cole told Alana to wait for him. The two brothers came out at the same time, the girl next to you letting out a squeal when her eyes landed on Cole.

“You were amazing, babe!” She exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. Thankfully, the eldest sibling came in front of you, hiding the couple from your line of sight.

“Thank you for coming, munch.” He mumbled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you into his chest. He didn’t use that nickname often, only during moments where he was really thankful to have you there.

Your friendship with Brock was one you held so close to your heart, he was like the brother you never had, and you were the sister you never had. You could always talk to him about anything, whether that be something stupid you did, or just wanting to gossip. He had helped you with your nerves on your first day of high school, giving you a tour of the place himself before class started. He was one of your favourite person ever.

Another reason why you were so scared of telling Cole how you felt about him. What if that meant losing Brock as well, and their parents. You didn’t know how you’d survive without him in your life, he was somehow always right there when you needed someone, becoming more of a comfort person than Cole was.

“Let’s get out of here, I am hungry.” The boy told you after looking over his shoulder, getting glimpse of his brother and his girlfriend deep in a make-out session. He made sure you didn’t see them, but the sound of their kisses was something he just couldn’t hide from you.

“They’re disgusting, anyone could see them.” You mumbled as the two of you walked away from the couple, Brock’s arm still around your shoulder. The boy chuckled slightly as he opened the door for you.

“Be glad you’re not his roommate. Think I might have to invest in earplugs soon.” He joked, making a sour look creep up on your face.

“You can come crash at mine if you ever need, you know.” You told him. Brock had always been there for you, helping you through though situation, it was always fair for you to return the favour.

“Got place for an extra tonight?”

Lacy, oh Lacy, it’s like you’re out to get me

You poison every little thing that I do

Lacy, oh Lacy, I just loath you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

As the year went by, your feelings towards Cole’s girlfriend slowly became mixed. You couldn’t help but hate her, but you also envied her so much at the same time. You wanted to be her, you wanted to live her life. Be the most important person in Cole’s life, but most importantly have the boy look at you like you hung the moon.

But that was never going to happen. You would always be second in Cole’s life from now on, meaning you’d eventually have to move on from this overwhelming crush you had on him. Even if the two of them ever broke up, he’d find another girl to take her spot, a girl that wouldn’t be you either. You were his childhood best friend, and that’s all you were every going to be to him.

You hated it, but you eventually found yourself trying to become another version of Alana. Picking up on some of her little quirks and manners, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the older Caufield.

“You’ve been acting weird lately.” Brock stated as the two of you sat on the couch of his shared dorm apartment with Cole. You furred your brows slightly, lifting your head from his chest and looking at up.

“What? No I am not.” You scoffed, only making the boy next to you sigh.

“But you are. You switched your coffee order, the order you’ve had for four years. You switched from silver jewlery to gold, you’ve been doing your hair differently, you dress completely the opposite of how you used to. It’s like… it’s like your trying to become Alana.” He mumbled the last part. Now it was your turn to scoff.

“‘M not.”

“But you are. Gosh, Y/N/N, you even talked about dying your hair the same colour as hers. Look, if this is how you plan on getting Cole to look at you differently, you need to stop. Becoming someone you’re not isn’t going to help you, it’s only gonna hurt you.”

“Then what’s gonna help me, Brock?” You asked harshly, fidgeting with your fingers. The boy next to you sighed once again before answering you softly.

“You need to move on, munch. I know you don’t want to hear this, but Cole loves Alana. I mean yeah, he had like the biggest crush on you when you guys were in third grade, but he moved on, and so should you.” He explained softly. His words hurt, a lot, but you knew they were true. “Why not me? Why her, and not me?”

guts taglist <3 @cixrosie @nhlfs @privatemythss

#bri writes #cole caufield #cole caufield fic #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield blurb #cole caufield fluff #brock caufield #guts series

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fuuuuyo · 18 days

Text

continuing ;

‘ FOUR WORDS ’ pt. 2

kuroo tetsurō x fem!reader, just fluff :>, this part is a little cheesy ngl ㅠㅠ (tbh i dont know why i continued this)

link to pt. 1

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as one of kuroo’s childhood friends, it was a privilege to watch him grow. who knew that the boy that helped you on the swings would be the captain of nekoma high school volleyball club. you still remembered all the gifts he gave you, and even all the birthday cards he handed to you was in the drawer of your bedside table. you could never forget those childish memories you’ve had with him and all the ups and downs that you’ve had. the past 12 years spent with him are priceless. you’d give up anything for it. you were far more than grateful to have the privilege of him growing up alongside you. he’s grown to become very athletic and smart, and not to mention, a very attractive man in your eyes. although, his hair never changed. it had always been the same.

spending time with kuroo was what brought you most joy, but would also set your heart blazing with fire. you’ve developed a sense of romantic feelings towards him and you couldn’t help it. you’d often ponder and think about those four words he said as a child, wondering if it wouldn’t just be an imagination, but would be something that would come true.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

watching kuroo play volleyball reminded you of all the times you’ve spent together over the years. as you cheered him enthusiasticly from the sidelines, memories of your childhood slowly flooded back. the cats came out on top in the end, and you couldn’t be more proud of him and his team.

“ congratulations on your victory! ” you squealed to the team with happiness and excitement. you were truly so proud of them, especially kuroo, your best friend. you helped them pack up, and soon after went to walk home with kuroo since you’d always been close neighbors too.

“ kuroo, this is for you ! i figured that you might have gotten a little hungry after the match so i made you some sushi! ”

“ thanks a lot, [name]! it looks really good! do you want to stop by at the park for a bit for me to eat this? ” he asked, receiving a repetitive nod from you afterwards.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

later on the day, the both of you plopped on the bench on the park. it wasn’t too dark yet, so you had some time to stall with kuroo at the park. you couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed since the early days, and how much had stayed the same.

“ so how’s my sushi? ” you competively asked.

“ pretty good, but i suppose the ones i make are still better.” he replied with a devilish grin displayed on his face. you put so much effort into those sushi, only to find out that he still makes better ones.

“ if you really think so, let me have my sushi back! ” you said as you slid over the bench to him as you tried to snatch away the bright yellow container filled with the sushi you gave him.

“ hey, i was still hungry- ”

“ are you really that hungry? or are you just inlove with the flavors of my sushi? ” you snickered, coming a little bit closer to him, flustering him a bit. you weren’t going to back down one bit.

a smirk appeared on his face and he said, “ you’re pretty close to me aren’t you, [name]? ” you thought you had control, but it seemed like it was flipped around now.

“ oh sorry, i didn’t realize.” you replied, not really sorry.

“ you think i care? i wouldn’t mind it if you came even closer. ” he said with a confident smug, his ego being boosted into a high level. he carefully took the yellow container from your hands and placed down on the other side of the bench, having his other hand placed on your waist, when you blurted out a gasp, cheeks flushed.

“ what’s up? scared of me, kitty? ”

“ as if i’d be scared of you. ” you replied with a scoff following afterwards.

“ come closer then. ” he said as his hand went up to your hips, pulling you close as he crashed his lips into yours, as he captivated you into a lovingly aggressive kiss. after a moment, out of breath, you pulled away.

“ god i really have fallen inlove with you, [name]. be my girl? ”

“ yes of course. ” you gleefully replied. as you left the park, you suddenly caught up with the memories of you and kuroo running around as a child. everything was so fun and playful, but you never knew that this day would ever come. as you both left the park, you couldn’t help but think about how much the two of you had grown since your childhood.

“ let’s see what the future holds for us, yeah kitten? ” he said as he trailed off after dropping you home.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines

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heyyallitsbeth · 16 days

Text

Ghost of You

The sun beamed down on the two lovers resting on a giant mushroom top in Alfheim Online. They had been working on clearing a bunch of side quests with their party that day. But to one of the two, it felt off. His movements were sluggish, his body disconnected from the avatar it resided in. To most, it would seem normal, his movements still had the disciplined form of someone who had spent his life training in combat, despite him giving up the sword in the real world long ago. But to his partner, both in combat and in soul, she could tell he was struggling.

“Kirito, are you feeling alright?” The autumn-haired girl stoked the dark hair of the noir boy who laid his head on her stomach.

“Hmm? Yeah everything’s fine Asu, why?” While his demeanor was calm, she could tell there was something eating him up inside.

“Honey, I’m your wife, and your partner too. If there’s anything troubling you, I’ll be right by your side to fight it with you.” The raven haired spriggan closed his eyes and weakly smiled. He knew that Asuna was his true other half, a partner in life and in love, but he was worried about something that might tear them apart.

“Asuna… I need to convert my account over again. I might be gone for a bit, so if you could… While I’m gone, please give Yui and Strea twice the amount of love as normal.” He thought of his daughters, and hated the thought of needing to leave them behind for any time, but he knew there was something he had to face alone.

“Of course honey, but call them every night at least okay?”

“Heh, been doing that since we escaped SAO. I can promise that won’t change one bit.” But some other things might.” He left the thought to himself, he wasn’t ready to commit to any real change, but he needed to see the truth for himself.

“Do you need me to look after Excalibur for you? You lost most of your items the last time you converted over…”

“Haha, nah that’s not an issue. Sinon's already got that covered, after all, it’s her sword, she just knighted me with it.” He laughed seeing the flustered face of his wife, even though their situation was more open and fluid than most, she still got a little jealous of the girl’s hanging off of him, especially the teal sniper who taunted the two of them the most. “And if she converts, it should default to Yui now since she’s taken my inventory any other time I convert.”

“Alright, we should get back to the others to continue the quests now, good chance for you to say bye before you log off for a while anyway.”

“Of course. Dontcha go marryin someone else without my permission first~”

“H-hey!”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen how Liz stares at ya Asu. I’m sure she’ll take great~ care of you while I’m gone~” He giggled, imagining the sight of his wife and Liz locked in an embrace together.

“Even if she does, you’ll still always be my beloved partner, promise~”

“Heh. Didn’t take much convincing- you’re so cute.”

The spriggan rested on the undine, never wanting to leave her. But today, he needed to face his fears. Alone. A mission for the solo player.

…

A year prior, an event stuck itself to Kirito’s brain like a parasyte. He could never fully escape the thought of it. He had logged into Gun Gale Online in order to investigate the DeathGun case. Due to the gacha system that determined avatars in the game, Kirito had awoken to the sight of his hair in his face. Long streaks of grey locks adorned him, framing his soft face. Staring at his reflection in the windows of nearby shops in the dark brutalist environment, he noticed things in himself he was afraid of. His figure was soft and feminine, far from the typical soldier of this world. It was not too dissimilar to his real life appearance, but the pronounced hips and narrow shoulders made him shift in place uncomfortably. He stared at his visage, noting he looked as if he was Sugu’s big sister instead of her big brother. He slowly met his own gaze. His eyes had always been a dark grey, something his adoring sister always teased him for, calling him a zombie with the dead gaze that adorned him. But that day he saw something different in them, where a blank glaze once covered his view, there were now highlights visible for the first time, and a deep purple hue that left him breathless. He grasped at his chest over his heart and was hit with a deep pain, and an even deeper longing. But he had to move forward, he had a mission.

A week ago Kazuto had been out with his sister Suguha, though they were only related tangentially as cousins. That became something Kazuto had become fixated on, as throughout their day out, multiple people had stopped them, asking if they were twin sisters. Kazuto didn’t look his age due to his years in Sword Art Online, his body permanently stunted by his inability to move for so long. But he was really wondering if he truly looked that similar to Suguha because of it. He recalled that as he was young, they were confused for twin girls all the time, but they were younger then… It made sense right? Kazuto stole an old skirt from Suguha’s closet one day as she was out practicing kendo. She hadn’t worn it in years, he figured she wouldn’t notice if it were gone… He slipped it on and stared himself in the mirror that spanned the back of his bedroom door. Despite the clear difference in their “endowment” Kazuto had seen as bright as day the connection. Even if his chest wasn’t voluptuous, even if his hips weren’t as pronounced, he saw the obvious connections between him and his sister. His face was soft and round like hers. And in the center of it all, he saw it again, his dead eyes replaced with the loving purple gaze he’d seen back in Gun Gale. He threw off the skirt in a fit of anger at himself. He stashed it beneath his bed, he didn’t wanna look at it. But… his heart longed for something regardless.

Today, as Kirito logged out of Alfheim Online, he converted his account over to Gun Gale Online once more. He needed to spend more time there… She needed to see herself again.

…

A dark raven was prone atop a clocktower, aiming down at the streets below. Through the scope of their Hecate sniper rifle, they could nearly see the stubble on the men in the party stories below them.

BANG!

A single clean shot had decimated two of the party members.

“I’ve gotten good with this thing… heh.” The shadowy figure smiled to themselves as they lined up another shot. “Maybe now I can give her that duel I promised…”

BANG!

A full party wiped in such a short amount of shots. Too easy. The slender gargoyle on the roof brushed their long locks behind them, the deep grey shimmered with silver highlights despite the soot and ash coating it. Suddenly, they heard someone ascending the wall in front of them. They prepped their shot, but they were caught off guard by a blur of seafoam green, before their eyes met a familiar smiling face in their scope.

“Hey Sinon, come here often?” A playful taunt escaped their lips.

“Yes actually, I do believe you’re in my spot after all Kirito.” She giggled, a sight Kirito had grown to love as Sinon had opened up more and more. “I’m surprised you’re using a real weapon instead of wildly flailing your photon sword about.”

“Oh you just miss seeing me with my sword in my hands dontcha?” Sinon blushed and angrily pouted, another adorable sight. “Well, my lovely partner here in GGO taught me so much, I figured I’d honor her by using the same weapon as I practiced. I need to give ya a good duel sometime after all.~”

As he grew closer to each of his friends, the one-sided teasing evolved into a playful banter between them, learning how to push each and every one of their buttons.

“So that’s why you left ALO huh? Trying to get a headstart on training for our next B.O.B. huh?”

“I think you’ve got years ahead of me Sinonon~ One week away won’t save me. But truthfully that’s not the full reason.” Their eyes shifted away from Sinon, and towards the floor before smirking and shaking the thought away.

“I’d hope so, it’d be such a shame if my Star-Crossed Soldier was training without me~” She playfully pouted at Kirito.

Ever since the last B.O.B. ended, article after article dubbed the two winners as the Star-Crossed Soldiers, after Kirito’s embrace with Sinon in the trials, their close encounters in the cave and Sinon’s literal fiery embrace at the end to claim their tied victory. Liz had given Kirito an earful before the articles came out with how close he’d been to Sinon, but after the nickname appeared online, Kirito became convinced Liz and Asuna would actually kill him. Up until Asuna proposed the poly arrangement at least.

“Jeez, don’t let Asu hear you callin’ me that, otherwise I won’t be the only one getting pierced by her rapier.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not lookin’ to get inbetween ya- in that way at least~” The look she gave Kirito with that comment seemed to literally take health off the poor player.

“Anyways, why’re you here if not to train to win over me?”

“...” Kirito shifted his look away from her, and with that motion he accidentally revealed the accessories adorning his hair. Sinon snickered.

“Ah, I see you’re just here to play dress up huh?” Her eyes wandered and looked over the rest of the boy. He still had his trademark carbon fiber cloak, but now his outfit beneath was…

“Kirito… is that my outfit in black and silver?”

The noirette blushed a vibrant crimson, and smiled.

“I think there’s someone you need to meet Shino.” The girl was surprised by Kirito’s use of her real name ingame. He typically tried to refer them as their avatar’s name. This was deeper, this was personal to her.

Shino grabbed the hands of the shadow before her and looked into it’s eyes.

“I think I know who you mean.” She smiled with pride as they drew closer. “What’s your name? Who is my partner in this world?”

The eyes of purple and blue had met, a synthetic gaze between them escalated into a whirlwind. In a moment, they were back in that cave again, holding eachother close, the heat of their bodies pressed against eachother.

“In this world… And all others… My name is Kiriko.”

With those words, Sinon saw Kiriko revert back to how she saw her initially. Another girl, just like her.

They spent the next week training for the upcoming B.O.B. ingame, and shopping for Kiriko in the real world. The night of the battle, Kiriko had stayed at Shino’s apartment, so they could celebrate their victory.

…

A flurry of gunshots was silenced by the cruel end of a photon sword. Despite her training with a sniper, Kiriko decided to return to the classics for most of the match. Her and Sinon made for a perfect duo as front line and supporting fire. Her favorite moment had been when Sinon and her had been cornered, with Sinon facing her while she had her back to two enemies. Sinon fired at Kiriko, and she split the bullet just like in their trial duel, with the two pieces finding their home in the skulls of their attackers. It was a game now, just for fun, and they wanted to perform.

“I suppose that is the last of them huh?”

“Suppose so.”

The two stood against the other, scratched, bruised, covered in virtual blood of both their own, and of others. And now with all cameras on them.

“You ready to give the girls at home a show Kiriko?”

They smiled devilishly at each other.

“Always.”

In a swift movement, Kiriko removed her heavy black cloak, revealing the matching outfit with Sinon’s own. It was practically bikini armor, except for soldiers instead of for knights, despite Sinon’s insistence it wasn’t. Sinon revealed a photon sword of her own, and as the cloak hit the dusty ground behind Kiriko, both lept towards eachother with fire in their eyes. The clash of purple and green blades sent small debris around them flying, each strike was more powerful than the last. But it was less of a duel, and more of a dance. Every movement, despite the power, was elegant, with perfect footwork and seamless motion. They circled eachother, blade against blade. With every strike forward, the other responded with a dodge and their own strike. Neither had grazed the other, only their sword’s connecting the two. The chorus of slashes against slashes sent both blade’s flying, as Kiriko caught Sinon’s and Sinon caught Kiriko’s, and they continued their masquerade. They drew closer and closer together, despite the blade’s repelling eachother, their bodies had called to eachother. In a flash both lights extinguished, and the two embraced. They smiled at eachother, aware of the camera right beside their faces. They closed their eyes and their lips clashed against eachother. Love blooming on the battlefield. Sinon pressed Kiriko’s blade against her back, and ignited it, impaling the two of them together, as they tied another B.O.B.

…

The pair awoke from their brawl back in the real world. Both had imprints on their faces from where their Amusphere’s had sat on them. They giggled to eachother as they traced the marks, holding eachother’s faces.

“I’m glad you got Asu’s approval before all that, I know that Liz’ll still tear both of us apart though” Sinon snicked, imagining the pink leprechaun’s stunned face watching their dance.

“Hehe, yeahhhhh. Just because me and Asuna are poly doesn’t mean the jealousy’ll ever just up and leave. Liz is probably upset that I managed to steal both Asuna and you for myself.”

“Oh I think she’ll be more jealous of me, after all, I was the first one with the new girl in the group.” She laughed at the thought, knowing all of the girls’ not-so-subtle-crushes.

“Oh yeah, speaking of, I guess tonight they all get to meet Kiriko at the party in ALO huh?”

“As long as you’re not nervous, and I’ll be there supporting you always.”

“With you by my side, I’ll always be ready. Let’s hop over and meet them.”

An evil grin reached Shino’s lips.

“Welllllll you and I both need to transfer our accounts back over, so you should set that up real quick.”

“Right, right of course. Better not keep them waiting-”

Kiriko turned away from Shino to her laptop, starting the slow transfer of their accounts. With her attention away, Shino slipped out of her top and pajama bottoms, and waited for Kiriko’s full undivided attention.

“Alright we should be good in around twenty minu- HUH!”

Kiriko’s face was lit ablaze by the sight of the scantily clad girl infront of her.

“Hehehe, whatcha waitin for? I know we got the cash prize, but it’s time for our real~ reward now.”

She unbuckled the back of her bra and let the garment slip down, exposing her modest, but perky chest with a light bounce.

“We won’t keep them waiting long- but I already told Asuna- I get first dibs tonight- which means I get first ever dibs on Kiriko~”

She pounced on Kiriko, pinning her to the bed.

They showed up in Alfheim, an hour later than everyone expected.

…

Sinon entered the main living space of the home their party had shared. Luckily everyone was enjoying themselves already, but she still stammered out an apology for being so late.

“Jeez, is Kirito not coming?” Liz said in a huff. “I suppose he just doesn’t wanna show after that little stunt you two pulled.”

Sinon blushed heavily, knowing that stunt was far from the worst thing they’d done. Asuna crept behind Sinon and pulled her in, kissing her on the cheek.

“Mwah~ That’s for stealing away my poor innocent Kirito~” She playfully toyed with the cat, happy with the new arrangement they’d found. But the cat’s face lit up, imagining how there was no innocence left in either of their bodies laying beside eachother in the real world. She shook the thought away.

“Hehe, just borrowing her~ she’s yours again tonight”

The party went silent

“HER?!”

As if on queue, a new cait sith appeared from the door. She was adorned with a black cloak and risque armor set. Her signature long grey hair fell down her back, looking just like Kirito in GGO. And she could barely look up at the party as she announced “H-hey everyone. My name’s Kiriko…”

Before anyone had the chance to say anything, Asuna, Yui and Strea all embraced the girl.

“Yayyyyy I get two mommies now!” Yui cheered

“Ah well that explains the armor choices…” Leafa sputtered out.

“We leave Sinon alone with Kiriko for a week and she comes back a girl… Yeah that tracks actually.” Liz was practically beaming.

“I was wondering about Kiriko’s choice of attire in GGO… But now I can’t wait to see her choices in here~” Philia dreamed of all the different event cosmetics and rare treasures Kiriko could now be adorned in.

Silica and Argo were hovering around the new cait sith in their presence.

“So was I the only one who suspected Kii-gal was a girl?”

“Maybe! But now I get an adoptive big sister!”

“Hey! Kiriko’s my actual big sister!”

“We can share!”

The crowd started talking inbetween themselves, talking about all the fun things they can do now that Kiriko’s a girl, and Asuna took this as an opportunity to pull her to the side.

“So this was what you were worried about earlier huh?”

“I was worried that you’d leave when you found out what I’d been going through… I’m glad I can still be yours.”

“Oh honey… I love you, husband, wife, partner, I didn’t fall in love with a boy, I fell in love with you. The hero who saved us from Aincrad, and the caring parent to our kids. This is just a new side of you I get to love, and I’m going to love every second of learning about you Kiriko. Now ummm. After the party can I head over? It’s been a bit since we um.”

“Heh- about that… If you wanna head over, you’ll have to ask Shino if she’s okay with you staying…”

“Sh-Shino? Are you diving from her apartment?”

“Hahaha, well, she did call first dibs…”

Asuna laughed and pulled Kiriko into a kiss. She was glad that Kiriko was still hers, even if she was being shared between a few others. Since for the both of them, regardless of all the others they would come to love, they were still that happy couple from back in Aincrad, soulmates from then, to forever.

#sword art online #sao #sword art online fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #kirisuna #kirino #fanfic polyamory #trans headcanon #trans kirito

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darkicedragon · 4 months

Text

Fanfic: Tethered

Fandom: Alan Wake Summary: Alan was free from Cauldron Lake, but something doesn't feel right... Note: Set early-midgame. Rating: G Genre: General Word count: 814 Status: Complete

The sun hurt Alan's eyes. Everything was so loud, the crash of waves around him, the birds in the air. The mud clung to him, sticky. Different from the Dark Presence's touch that flowed over him like smoke.

He was free. He had to be. No Writer's Room around him.

Sun warming his skin, already drying the lake water and mud.

He could hear the person talking to him, but it was like the words were pushing his brain out through his other ear and he couldn't concentrate, the world too bright, too loud, everything vying for his attention.

But he was free.

* * * Thirteen years. That was how long he'd been gone.

It felt true. That he'd been there for so long, but also too short. Only thirteen years?

He'd spent thirteen years writing?

He couldn't remember writing for that long, but there were gaps in his memory, the Dark Presence stealing them from him and eventually the minutes and hours melded together, his mind focused on writing, on escaping.

Alan turned his head, Cauldron Lake reflecting the setting sun's rays.

"Are you cold?"

He looked back to see Saga watching him from the rear-view mirror. They'd given him a jacket to try and soak up all the water and so he wouldn't drip all over the car, but when he looked down, his hands were clutching his arms, nails digging into the fabric.

Huh. "No." He paused. "I don't think so." He'd spent so long in the Dark Place he didn't know what he was feeling right now. Sitting in a chair he was more than used to, but not the steady rumble and shaking of a car around him.

His skin seemed...itchy. Irritated. As each second passed, the feeling grew, his hands moving to scratch without thinking.

After all this time, it would just be his skin getting used to the feel of touch again. He'd always worn the same clothes in the Dark Place. An extra layer was just a different feeling.

* * * Alan inhaled deeply, smelling the coffee in front of him, wrapping his hand around the white mug.

Warm. This was what warmth felt like. Not stiff or his muscles had locked up enough to notice even though he hadn't realised why.

He used to drink his coffee as soon as it was made, he remembered that much, needing the kick of caffeine as soon as he could.

The coffee touched his tongue and he jerked the coffee away from his lips, liquid sloshing.

"Hey!" Casey (not his Casey, but Alan wasn't really sure since he'd spent so long imagining Casey both in the real world and the Dark Place that maybe he had-?) snapped, scowling. "Did you forget how to drink?"

Alan had burned his tongue, he knew that much, which was why he didn't answer right away, but that wasn't why he'd reacted so strongly. He hadn't tasted coffee - it was like a sludge that coated his tongue, making everything it touched tingle.

Was he just remembering how to drink again after years of never needing it? The Dark Presence had sustained him, kept him alive all this time and now he had to relearn everything. Including taste.

It had been thirteen years since he'd last drank anything (he was pretty sure all he'd had in his last two weeks in Bright Falls was just coffee) - the brands and tastes would have changed since then.

This wasn't even filter coffee.

"Casey," Saga warned, and Casey turned away with a grumble.

Alan stared at his coffee again, seeing his face reflected back at him.

Tor and Odin's infamous moonshine's secret ingredient had been the water from Cauldron Lake. That was what had made it so potent.

Was that what he was tasting now? Was that where Bright Falls' water sourced from? He'd seen the multiple fences around the lake as they passed, but that didn't mean the pipes had also been blocked off.

There was a plate of food next to him that he hadn't noticed being set down.

It smelled wonderful.

Except...

Alan didn't feel hungry either. He couldn't remember what hunger felt like, but he had no other reaction to the food.

Unease was growing in his stomach though. His skin was still itchy, worse than before even though he hadn't worn the jacket since he'd got out the car. It seemed stronger on his right, like he was somewhere he wasn't meant to be. Like he should be somewhere else.

He didn't have to look out the window to know where Cauldron Lake was.

The itch had grown further he got from the lake.

He still wasn't free. Not yet. Not completely. The story was still hurtling towards its conclusion.

There was still more work to do before they would reach the ending.

Only then would he be free.

I was expecting a more horrified reaction at the end, but I guess Alan doesn't think it's permanent so that's probably why, haha. Plus he's used to horror tropes by now.

#alan wake #fanfic #alan wake 2

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miracles-and-butterflies · 3 months

Note

In actor au, how's relationships between the cold sisters/their actors?

(Did I just ask something about the au that was forgotten the day it was created? Go call an ambulance)

AN ASK FOR THE ACTOR AU? WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?!?!?!?

This has been a long while. Let me spend the next few hours scrolling all the way back to early 2023 to find my notes on this AU.

Before I get into the answer, just a reminder that the actors have different names:

Mariana Borrero - Mirabel

Alejandra Carmen Monagas - Alma

Bruno Juan Lozano - Bruno

Lucía Diallo - Luisa

Ines Gamarra - Isabela

Javiera A. Crespo - Julieta

Alvaro Valdés - Agustín

Paulina Cavero-Gallegos - Pepa

Felípe Cavero-Gallegos - Félix

Dafne Yanez - Dolores

Chepe Frontera - Camilo

Arlo Cantù - Antonio

Some of these names have changed since the first post of this AU. Also some of those names I have now used for other characters and such.

(The first name’s initial is the same as the first name of the character. While the initial of the surname matches the voice actor - with the exception of Dolores, because sources don’t have an agreed surname for Adassa; Pepa and Félix are married so they have both).

To answer the question, the cold sisters’ actresses are all on very positive terms.

None of them had met prior the table read. Well… Ines and Lucía met literally ten minutes before, having both gone into the local coffee shop and chatted whilst in the queue. They had an awkward moment when they both walked into the same building, like “oh, you’re in this too?” The two got on right away, bonding over coffee. Now whenever they do anything for Encanto, they meet up at a coffee shop beforehand.

Mariana had never been in film or TV before and was understandably a nervous wreck, not knowing what to do, outside of when she was acting or singing. Lucía reflects in many interviews how she instantly decided that she was going to take Mariana “under her wing” after seeing the girl for the first time. Ines has fully admitted to thinking Mariana wasn’t going to be great and then being blown away at the first vocal warmup because “holy shit, kid has pipes”. Listening to anyone nail Red Leather, Yellow Leather or hold a note for a stupid amount of time is a stunning moment.

Mariana herself had been overwhelmed with everyone else and didn’t feel worthy enough to talk to them, so… she didn’t for the first few table reads, unless they spoke to her first. But she recalls both Lucía and Ines being very chatty, welcoming and helpful. (Not that the rest of the cast weren’t, she just spent a lot of time with these two).

Ines and Lucía were among some of the ones who usually goofed off on set. Lucía frequently interacted with fans and social media, so subsequently you’d see a lot of Ines and Mariana if you followed her. They later started weekly live karaoke sessions where (taking advantage of the piano on set) Mariana would play a song and the cast would sing.

The three are usually seen together for interviews. I imagine they’ve done a lot of those “best friend test” and “Disney trivia competition” type press too.

#encanto #ask me anything #encanto actor au #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 1 year

Text

Comfort in my lowest moment

My works on Tumblr are here

Synopsis: A drabble where you rely on Dazai in times of need

Character(s): Dazai

Warnings: Suicide reference- Dazai’s typical antics, self-indulgent, meant to be comfort might be a bit angsty instead… Idk

Words: 783

Sitting beneath the stars, gazing where they should be, but were currently locked behind the clouds, your mind wandered. The breeze doesn’t feel harsh on your skin, nor does the air bite at your fingers despite how you tremble. It’s not the weather which shakes your body, nor is it from sudden chills. Another year… to make it so far, how had it been done? Staring down at the ground, your fingers toy with the grass, stiff to your skin, nothing like the sweet melodic words of the books or tales you’ve dived into, there’s no gentle sway, no soft tickle, it itches and pricks against your skin, irritable and annoying. Not even the stars want to show up for you tonight.

What importance is another year when all it means is that you failed…? It may be success to others, being able to sit here today, to be physically here, but… god do you not want to be here. Not with the way your chest sits empty, the way you crave habits you long ditched, or with how you seek validation in the smallest of things. Your hands find their way to your hair tugging on it, one more year… It seems like you say it every year, and still at the end of that year, you’ve found maybe a handful of moments you’re glad to get, but you're greedy. More, more, more, you need more, to feel arms around you, to grab onto you, and to support you.

Where are your friends? Where is your family? Sure, the texts came through, the ones sent when they forget until the calendar comes up, or you sigh and grumble how you didn’t expect to make it another year. The simple surprised looks and the lies… it’s that special day, but nobody seems to care… yet you see how other friends celebrate with each other… see how they laugh and how they smile… you can't help but wish there was somebody there for you.

Within the soft images of your brain, the wishing light of a desperate ache for comfort in which you trust nobody to give and not expect to receive something back, you find him, slinky arms coated in cloth, eyes a dull hazel, and watching you without pity.

Dazai, how many birthdays has it been spent curled up in imaginary feelings, in wishing somebody could be there the way you want; snuggled against your skin? You lean against the grass, welcoming the uncomfortable texture, imagining the scratch of what bandages would be against your skin. His arms wrap around you, they give you warmth, lessen the shaking, and the tears that wanted to drip don’t push from your eyes as the feeling of his hand swipes them away. “Oh, Belladonna…” His voice is calming, it’s gruff but comforting. “Don’t pity yourself… we could always drop together.” Perhaps reflecting with him wasn’t the best. His jokes became your jokes, as unhealthy as it was, they kept you from acting. It kept you from crumbling, knowing there was somebody who understood… even if they were not real.

He didn’t need to be real for you to cling to the feeling of warmth in your chest to smile slightly. “Double suicide, but how would we do it without troubling those without needing to work at it?” Death causes issues, and causes people to cry and blame themselves. These last two years have been difficult, but he’s been here holding onto you. His fingers stitch your heart together and let you escape into a world that helps keep you from leaving, that’s all that matters. He’d love and love you some more, he can’t leave or abandon you, he can’t forget your birthday or ignore you just to get back at you… he will always be there for you. The comfort of knowing your flaws do not define who you are, and that you can change to be better, all comes from him.

The touch of cold hands on your cheeks, a thumb rubbing against the skin. “One day… It will happen one day.” His voice never fails to match in your head exactly as it should. He never fails to comfort you. He’s right, one day you’ll find somebody who will do what he does for you. Maybe… that is why you’ve made it this far, yearning to find some reason for living.

“Yeah… maybe one day…” you whisper, opening your eyes to stare at the empty spot where he should be, a tear sliding down your cheek. None of this seems fair to you, all the pain, everything you feel is wrong with yourself… What reason could all this pain have been for?

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ghostwise · 1 year

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Zevran is once again struck by the way people change when you leave them alone for a while.

Three times now, the Maker has seen fit to place them in each other's paths. This time, however, rather than feeling regret at all he has missed in his friend's life, he feels only awe at the ways she has grown and the ways she has stayed the same. Isabela listens with a patience he's seldom associated with her, and for that he is grateful.

Still, he's almost afraid to tell her all that has happened.

"It is a very long tale, my dear," he says when she asks. "And I'm afraid it does not portray me in a very positive light."

"Oh, please. Like you're the only one with a past," she teases. "Have you forgotten already how we met?"

"Never," he replies, and she's coaxed a smile out of him despite his worry. It's easy to remember why he loved her--loves her--and trusts her, too. So, having surpassed that slightest bit of resistance with her support, he lets it all pour out in a flood of words.

Everything from Rinnala's betrayal to his contract in Ferelden, to his time during the Blight and Taliesen's death. Everything from the fight against the Crows, to his year spent at Quinta de Talpa, and his travels throughout all of Antiva and beyond. He tells her everything, good and bad, without omission.

It must be some surprise to her; he’s become so honest and vulnerable. But it’s deliberate, and he barrels into it with a certain recklessness because it has been hard-won.

Most of all, he talks about the Warden, like a thread weaving through every single piece of his life. Making his story coherent. Stitching the broken bits whole.

"I must admit, I didn't think him your type then, and I certainly don't now," Isabela says when he's done.

They're lounging on the bed together, barely dressed. Her hair is fanned out across her pillow and she makes a face, features pulling into a delicate pout.

"Please tell me he's not as grim and somber as he seems. Frankly, I’m still surprised he was alright with you and I meeting. Unless..." She sits up, and peers at him, blouse falling over her shoulders. "Unless he doesn't know?"

"He knows," Zevran murmurs against her knee. “He knew who I was when he married me.”

“Good.” Content to hear it, Isabela leans back with a smile. "What a waste it’d be otherwise. I mean, for you as well. Don't change for anyone, Zevran. I mean it. There are far too many miserable marriages in the world. I should know."

For a moment both of them reflect on those words. But they speak to a life long past, and not worth revisiting. After a moment Zevran just sighs with the most lovestruck look she's ever seen him sport.

"Ah, I'd love for you to get to know him as I do..." He strokes her leg gently, hanging onto her, though it is clear his mind is drifting. "He would never ask me to change. He doesn't want to impede me in any way. He sees the depths of me, good and bad, and asks for nothing. I never imagined... Isabela, he makes it so easy, so simple and calm. So you see, because of that, I can give him everything. Because he-"

"Oh, enough!"

Yanking her legs back she tucks them beneath herself and tackles him with a hug, affectionate but very much exasperated.

"You talk about your husband too much, Zevran! No one will ever want to sleep with you!"

Zevran draws in a sharp breath, then he collapses into laughter.

As they laugh and cling to one another, he’s infinitely glad he saved her all those years ago. He’s glad she’s here now. He's glad for every note in his story, from the highest to the lowest.

"Seriously, Zev," Isabela says, as she extricates herself from his embrace and walks to her dresser--truly a vision, as beautiful as she'd been ten years ago. "I'm glad you've found someone to make you happy. You deserve no less. As for the rest, all that matters is that you've kept on living and doing your best. That's all any of us can do."

#rinnywrites #dragon age #zevran arainai #isabela #spicy zev/bela friendship <3 love these bicons #just brainstorming; i'd love to polish this up and turn it into a longer piece #there is just SO much they need to talk about #ps. zev and hamal are more or less monogamous they just don't consider sex a solely romantic activity

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randaccidents · 8 days

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Yknow what I'm bored and I want to talk about the powers of the trident in Lie of Concord. Because its the ONLY trident in all of the aus that include any powers at all. (and also because in rp we FINALLY have the trident in someone else's hands)

So the trident. Quite literally its just a tool. The power you gain from it is reflective of the person holding it and like any tool or weapon it does not grant any protection from the power that is gifted. So for example Host is not immune to his own fire. It does take some concentration and focus to gain a proper control over the powers though, and takes time to learn how to direct it properly.

Within Lie of Concord, Host gets two powers: fire and healing. Healing came first, when he was still kind and had yet to snap. AFTER he snapped though... it was surprising to have fire spring to life on the tines of the trident afterwards. Because Host had changed while still wielding the trident, the trident recognized both who he used to be and who he has become and adjusted accordingly. Host spent a few loops.... experimenting with what he might be able to do more creatively on Juno and Ruler. Nowadays, ten thousand loops in, its almost second nature for him to summon the fire or the healing to the trident, and he has some tricks up his sleeve for creative uses.

And the powers aren't limited to Host either! If Juno or Ruler got their hands on the trident and tried to force something out of it, they'd each have their own specific power (I was thinking of ice for Juno and electricity for Ruler). Another fun thing is that the powers CAN be combined as well! So say if Juno and Ruler both held the trident, they would have electrified ice crystals instead.

Another important thing about the trident: there is a specific and unique power that is granted to any HMS that has reached concord and collectively holds the trident OR to a Whole. The trident, when it recognizes harmonization, unlocks the power over time. AKA, if Host just allowed himself to harmonize with his ids, he would have the solution to the time loops in his hands. It is literally right under his nose.

IN RP THOUGH. Because we got into a situation where Heartless!Heart and Jashwriting!Mind now share the trident. It means I had to come up with New Powers for them aughhhh and @hhoneycloves doesn't want to spill too much about Jashwriting so I went with the most surface level thing ever for JWr!Mind.

JWr!Mind gets red strings. I won't say too much more, because I believe that honey has not actually spoken much about this part of the AU publically yet haha. But I did toss it together on an incredibly surface understanding of this character so I don't have much explanation.

Heartless!Heart on the other hand. He got sunshine. Literal sunshine. He can create beams of warm, comforting light. Oh but sometimes they explode in a lot of sound, although it doesn't cause any harm. This does mean that for the time being it doesn't give him any combat advantages.

They've also had a taste of their combined trident power. The strings Mind can summon flare up in light and eventually explode loudly but harmlessly thanks to Heart. They haven't tested it much more than that though.

The power of that trident is only limited by your control and imagination. You can do a lot with it.

#Lie of Concord AU #Lie of Concord stuff #cccc au #cccc #rp chatter #rand.hc #hehe trident powers #I just think that its interesting that hes the only Soul that I can see using powers for some reason #and then I gave Proper Mechanics to how the powers work #and now I have to go ahead and be unique about shit augh #and since Lie of Concord is explicitly a closed loop that requires external support to break the dead end well #I get to do this every rp I bring him to haha

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dranna · 6 months

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A Surprisingly Beautiful Voice

AO3 / Commissions / Links /

Contents: fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, overwhelmed Izzy, spoilers for ofmd s2e6

Summary: How is Izzy coping with emotions when he gets that beautiful look and sings at the end of the episode?

a/n: I watched this episode a few days ago, and I couldn’t get Izzy’s mesmerising voice out of my head .. or maybe that whole scene ok

I’ll do an illustration of him in his beautiful look at all costs, when I have the time.

Hope you enjoy it! <3

tags my beloveds: @giosnape (let me know if you would like to be tagged:) )

Izzy was stumping on the ship, Limping towards the exit, When he saw Wee John, Putting something onto this face. Dum dum dum, The unicorn’s wooden leg sang, As he shuffled towards him and asked,

“What’s that?”

“Oh, I’m doing my makeup for Calypso's birthday.”

Izzy didn’t reply, only gazed, At their reflections in the mirror ahead, He couldn’t help but stare, Leaning closer and think, If he does it, Would it be.. too much for me to do the same? Could possibly Blackbeards’ first mate, Dream to try something out like this? It looks so ..beautiful, So much colour and nice shapes, Just to imagine it on my face! Would I look comical ? Would the others mock and Ed laugh, Would—

“Can you do this for me too?”

Words ran through his lips, With the force of west winds, Before he could stop, That longing feeling in his chest, That yearns for acceptance. Wee John stopped his moves for a sec, Looking at the other man, He was so surprised, Didn’t know at first what to reply. Izzy felt shame climbing up his face, Waiting for the ridiculed rejection, He waited for what felt like hours, For inevitable in his opinion, But it didn’t came, Only friendly silence remained. He dared to steal a glance at the tall man, He didn’t see contempt nor jeering, Only a welcoming smile, That made him feel recognised.

“Yeah, sure I can!”

The two of them spent at least half an hour, Deciding the colours for Izzy’s look, And as John did the face, Izzy started to feel more and more pretty. He watched as he transformed, Under the careful work of that Crew, Eyes fixated on his own face, He couldn’t help but gape, At his own reflection in the frame, He remembered when he first saw a worm, Changing into the most beautiful being, A butterfly, An otherworldly soul, Floating in beauty, Charming the dark sea, Light as a feather, And free—

“Aaand it’s done!”

— The voice of Wee John pulled him back, To the desk he was sitting at, He looked again, And was breathless, Could it be really me, Who looks that magnificent?

“I-I understand if you don’t like it, We can wash it off and—-“

“It’s so.. lovely.”

— The unicorn’s voice was so little, Not above a whisper, He tried to fight those fucking tears, That threatened to appear. He felt a gentle tap on his back, Encouraging him to go ahead.

“ I finish mine, Then we can go together, If you would like ..?”

“Thank you.”

— Izzy was too moved to behave, With his usual grumpiness and swears, He sat there and waited, For Wee John to get ready, He also couldn’t stop his eyes, To wander towards his own imagine.

He emerged after the tall man, From the murky below, Heart thundering loudly in his ear, Am I really gonna do it? Or should I? I would be the laughingstock of these twats aside. Maybe… they helped me a lot these days.. It will be okay. Face hiding nervousness, Eyes reflecting excitement, Chest burying restlessness, He went to Frenchie, And -asked- ordered him to start, A slow melody he had in mind.

A voice filled the air, That usually hushed and vexed, Could only tell swears and meanness, But now it was sweet, And flowing afresh, Make flowers blossom in chests, So melodic and pleasant, Full of charm and tenderness. The air just carried it more and more, Making it sit on moved members of the crew, However it wasn’t heavy nor loadsome, It was a blanket of warmth.

The song ended, And with that the voice, But the feeling remained, Embracing everyone on the Revenge. There was a moment of silence when, Izzy panicked again, But this feeling soon disappeared, The crew surrounded him, And praised, With little truths and gentle taps, That he couldn’t take, Without feeling red petals traveling up his face, He let them to hug and adore him, Feeling too giddy and safe, For god knows if for the first time. Candles continued to burn, In the colourful lanterns, That made, Everything seem more comfy. The Moon smiled with them too, Ordering her clouds to move.

Thank you for reading:)

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occasionallyprosie · 3 months

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Devotion - Chapter 6: "In A Minute"

Dev reunites with one person from his past, and watches another from afar.

Meanwhile, instead of getting therapy himself, he gives it to his new kids AKA Captain Link, Mask, and Tune.

Read on AO3

First Chapter, Tumblr

"I know you," Ravio said near instantly.

Dev shakily inhaled—a useless habit—and nodded.

Ravio walked over, noticing Tune curled up and asleep with his head in Dev's lap, then his gaze raised back to Dev's face.

It visibly clicked. "Link," Ravio breathed. "Mr. Hero?"

"Ravio." Dev reached toward him and Ravio moved closer. Ravio took his hands but steered them, both Dev's and Ravio's both, to hold Dev's face.

"Look at you," Ravio whispered, studying his face. "You look like I did when we first met. Wrong eye color though, and not pale enough... Why so different?"

Dev blinked and his form quickly changed.

Lately, he had been using a form that better reflected his sword form, or rather a sort of mix between the Golden Sword and the Tempered Sword. He had violet hair that barely reached his shoulders but tied it up in a green ribbon, another green strand wrapping around a bit of hair by his face. He'd given himself a darker tan, one he had when he'd spent months at a time working in his orchard when he was still human, it turned out the sun couldn't tan sword spirits. Then he wore a pale, golden-yellow jerkin over a faded, burnt orange undertunic, the fabrics and style more reminiscent of a dream long ended than his once-favored red mail.

Suddenly, he was paler, still freckled but distinctly paler and those blemishes harder to notice as they nearly faded. Purple hair turned golden blond and a pink streak on the same side as the green ribbon, which remained. Gold and orange became dark green and red.

Ravio smiled almost blindingly. "There you are. How long, Mr. Hero?"

"Over three thousand," Dev managed. "Oh goddesses, Ravio."

Ravio squeezed his hands and pressed their foreheads together. "It's alright. You've done so well, Mr. Hero. You've gone so far. You're so incredibly strong."

Dev couldn't help but let out the small laugh that bubbled up. "Don't do that."

"But it's true. You've lived so long and I can't imagine you just hid from everything the whole time. You've must've saved the world so many times, met and lost so many people, and you're still making friends." Ravio nodded toward Tune's sleeping form. "You're so strong."

Dev closed his eyes and just relished in it. In Ravio's touch, his voice, he committed it all to memory.

"I remember this," Dev whispered. "It was while I was first—After we did the ritual, during that first year or so, right? You disappeared, stopped visiting for a while and I panicked so much. Then you came back and told me about this war and-and all these people you met and you had changed and I was so proud of you."

Ravio smiled at him. "Then I guess I don't have to worry too much about not going back home."

"You will," Dev swore. "I'll make sure of it."

"You haven't changed, Mr. Hero," Ravio laughed. "Not a bit."

Dev chuckled. "Maybe a bit. I don't fight with a sword anymore."

"Oh really? How do you fight?"

"If all goes well, I never will again. I... I've had to, but I don't want to fight anymore. Not myself."

Ravio smiled. "You know, that is different."

He did. He did have to fight.

A battle later that month went south. Mask got hit and downed, and Tune was with him, across the battlefield, desperately trying to protect him. Soldiers were spread thin across it, other displaced individuals fighting for their lives. Ravio would basically be playing wack-a-mole with the monsters, as more kept appearing no matter which he hammered into the ground. Midna was handling herself but that's as far as she could do.

Link got isolated and was getting overwhelmed.

"Dev, no," Fi intervened, her spirit wreathing around Dev's in a way to sort of stop him though they both knew it was ineffective. "We should not interfere."

"I'll interfere if I want to," he snapped at her. "They're going to die!"

She went silent at that.

Link brought tried to parry some attack and was disarmed, the Master Sword flying through the air as Link frantically brought his shield up as his only defense.

A huge, axe-wielding monster was about to break that shield in half, and Link as well. Fear shone clearly in his eyes.

A wall of flames suddenly exploded and Dev was standing between them. His hand held up, catching the giant axe, and looked like golden crystal and unbothered by the sharp blade. He held a fire rod in his other hand and a vicious grin was on his face.

"Don't touch my kit," he snarled and shattered the axe with a blast of magic.

He'd done some practicing since his sprite.

Flames roared around them as he turned to Link, pulling the Magical Sword from his pouch and offering it to him. "Get to the boys. I'll help clear the way."

Link just nodded, clearly a little bit awestruck and there was an odd warmth to his face that Dev couldn't quite place.

Dev burned his way through the battlefield, slashing and burning everything down around him. The bottoms of his fire rod had a sharp stiletto at the end and he used those to take down monsters and usurpers alike. He pulled out his tornado rod to help expand the reach the flames had.

Link made it to Tune and Mask's side, Dev trusted him to keep them safe as he began to thin the herd.

He couldn't let another hero die on his watch. Not another one, goddesses please.

His own magic helped the flames curve around soldiers and allies, shielding them even from the brunt of the heat no matter how close it came to them.

In minutes, the tide of the battle turned and Dev was standing back as the young ones finished the fight in favor of Hyrule. He let out a sigh and was about to return to sword form when he was assaulted.

"Mr. Hero! That was amazing!" Ravio gushed as he appeared beside him, robes torn and clearly exhausted yet alive with adrenaline. Dev offered him a red potion the moment he noticed the blood. "You know, I've said it a thousand times, but you do look like a dancer when you fight!"

Dev laughed lightly, attention flicking across the field to account for everyone as Ravio drank the potion.

"You have, and every time I've said that you should see Cadence," Dev reminded him and Ravio grinned.

"Dev! Ravio!" Link walked over to them, Mask unconscious on his back, arms loosely hung around his neck. "We're going back to camp. You... You know each other?"

"You called him, Mr. Hero," Tune said, half leaning on his sword. He was clearly exhausted, Dev guessed the kid, even for his alleged two adventures, was not used to fighting for hours on end, days at a time.

Dev chuckled. He went over and picked the pirate hero up. "Did he, bunso? I dunno..."

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Ravio declared.

It took no time after he picked the not-quite-a-teenager up, that Tune slumped into his chest. "Y'er warm," he muttered, clearly about to fall asleep.

"That's what happens when you burn things, you tend to be a bit warmer. Proximity to fire and all that."

Ravio snorted beside Dev as Link gave a long, suffering groan. Midna yelled for Ravio to join her and Linkle, and Ravio soon ran off to join the other dark-worlder.

Link smiled at Dev, offering his sword back.

Dev shifted Tune to his back and took the Magical Sword, letting it disappear into his pouch.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine," Link assured, his voice a bit softer than usual as they fell into step. "You know, you're scary when you're protective."

"Hmm?"

"When you appeared. You looked ready to burn the world to the ground... just to protect me," Link explained, looking down. "I don't get it. You also called me your kit."

Dev blinked, then he chuckled softly. "You are mine, you know that? The moment you pulled me from the pedestal, I adopted you. That's just how it works. And... And well, I would."

"You would what?"

"I would burn down the whole world just to keep my kids safe. You, these two..." his Sprite, "I'd do anything for you."

Link looked surprised, but he didn't continue the subject any longer. Instead just falling silent as they headed back to the camp.

"Come on! There's another new person, she's so cool! She knows the same language we speak on Outset!"

Tune dragged Dev through the field of tents, Mask perched on Dev's shoulders.

"We're coming! You don't have to run," Dev teased, one hand on Mask's leg as the kid rested his chin on top of his head.

"Hurry up then!"

"He's always in a rush to meet people," Mask grumbled. "It's weird."

"Maybe, but you're weird for hating them," Tune responded cheerily.

Dev chuckled amusedly. He tagged along and as they finally came up to the mess area where a bright voice was singing some jittery tune alongside the slamming of mugs and stomping of boots.

He knew that voice.

Standing atop a table, shaking and hitting a tambourine, was the girl from his dreams.

Marin.

Dev didn't breathe, he didn't have breath, but even so it felt like his was stolen. Tune laughed and went up to join the singing and dancing, Mask even lightened up a bit in the cheery atmosphere. Dev watched Marin dance on the tabletop, he saw her pull Tune up to join her. He hadn't noticed it before, but the two had similar energy, similar warmth and enthusiasm, they had the same bright smile too. Dev found himself smiling.

She looked happy... He'd let her live this. If she recognized him, then he'd talk, but if not... He wouldn't bring up old wounds, because she was older. She looked to be at least in her twenties and they'd been sixteen when Link--when Dev had washed up on her island.

If it was a dream for her too, then... Then best she live on and forget about some boy she knew in a world they'd never get back.

He was far too old and much too immortal to let her dwell on that.

"Kit," Dev sat down on the castle wall beside the Captain, who glanced up at him, "what's wrong?"

"You know, why do you call me kit?" Link asked, the nickname apparently distracting him from whatever turmoil was in his mind.

"You remind me of a lion, a prideful, protective, ferocious, fierce lion. So kit," Dev gave him a soft look, one that generally got his kids to talk in the past, "what's got your mane in a mess?"

Link rolled his eyes with a soft laugh. "I... I'm tired, Dev. I know you probably wouldn't get it, being an immortal spirit and all, but..." he looked up at the moonless night sky. "How... How am I supposed to keep fighting when I'm leaving them all behind? There's... It's my fault. If I just gave myself over to Cia, this wouldn't be happening. They wouldn't be dead. Everyone around me is dying, Dev," he choked a bit, "how am I... Why can't I save them?"

Dev sighed softly. "I do get that, actually." Link looked at him. "I'm immortal, kit. I'm young in comparison to Fi, she's had many other wielders than you, like Mask and Tune, but I only had one and I existed for centuries before he was even born. I... I helped the royal family for a while, helped raise the princesses, hide the princes, saved the country a couple times by telling the ruling body to use some common sense. I raised those kids into great kings and queens, Link. They all died. My wielder, he died too, bled out in my arms, I half raised him too."

Link was silent.

"Then there was a mage, a long time ago, multiple but that's not the point. This one mage wanted this specific child, two of them actually but more specifically he wanted the Princess. If, theoretically, we had given him that girl, it wouldn't have mattered. He still would have destroyed all of Hyrule and killed its people."

Dev looked over at Link. The teenaged war captain was still watching the stars, but clearly listening.

"If you gave yourself to Cia, it wouldn't end this war, kit. All it would do is make our side lose you, our captain and leader, our friend and ally, our brother." Link looked at him at that last one. "She isn't alone, those monsters wouldn't stop attacking. She has ancient evils on her side, evils that the heroes of the past had to fight off. All that would happen if you gave yourself to Cia, is exactly that. You'd be with Cia. The war would not end, peace would not be won or bought, everything else would continue, they would keep attacking, and you'd be trapped in the heart of it at the whims of a madwoman."

Link flinched a bit, tugging his sleeve slightly. Impulsively, Dev set what was now his signature purple cloak around his hero's shoulders.

"I know it's hard, people are dying around you and you believe you're responsible for saving them." Link nodded slightly to Dev's words. "But this is war, Link. This is bigger than just you, even if Cia is obsessed with you, that's not how this works. Something else would have been corrupted, someone else, Lana maybe, maybe some random mage who decides to raise an ancient evil, something would have happened. Maybe you would've had to travel across all of Hyrule to gather some magical items from dungeons deep in the ground to come back and fight them alone. But I speak from experience when I say the death toll would not have been better. Without the armies to protect them, monsters would've flooded villages, flooded the castle even, or maybe the armies themselves would've been mind controlled and men you know and trust would be turning against you."

Link grimaced. Dev knew he already hated having to kill the men who had willingly betrayed the crown, to kill men who had done it unwillingly was...

"Frankly, there are dozens of other ways this could have played out," Dev continued. "But it played out this way, and when I look at our status, the statistics from battles, how you're managing your men when you're barely an adult yourself," Link flinched at that, "you are doing incredibly, Kit. Better than I would have ever done, even if I were my age and not your age."

Link tugged the cloak more around his shoulders. He let out a long, shaky sigh and silence lingered for a good few minutes. Dev just stayed at his side.

"Thanks," Link whispered into the air. "Thanks Dev."

He hummed softly. "Of course."

Dev crossed his arms as he stood in the entryway of a certain tent, Link was leaning over at table, scarfless. Dev knew that both Mask and Tune were curled up on their bed in another tent with the scarf wound around and over them both.

"You faked them out," Dev said and Link startled, reaching for a weapon only to raise Dev's own sword form against his intangible spirit form.

Link sighed, sheathing the Master Sword. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The boys are out cold with your scarf around them. You got them to sleep and then left. You know they hate it when you don't sleep too," Dev chided. He moved over to look at the map on the table.

"I have to finish this, and finish that report," Link said as he gestured to a stack of papers on the nearby desk. Dev moved over to it and flicked through them. "I don't have time to rest."

Dev sighed. "Goddesses... you have no idea how often I told myself that."

Link made a confused noise, looking at him.

"Just—When I was younger, I had a lot to do and little time to do it. I was right of course, I didn't have time to rest, but the difference was," Dev placed a hand on Link's shoulder, "I didn't have people who could take my burdens from me."

Link looked confused and Dev chuckled softly.

"Let's finish those reports together and then you need to get some rest. What helps you relax?"

"I... doing things with my hands. Knitting, training, braiding my sister's hair, stuff like that," Link said quietly. He unsheathed the Master Sword and set it out. It disappeared in a slight flash and Dev let himself become tangible and he picked up the reports.

"Well we're currently out of yarn," Dev noted, "and training is absolutely out of the question..." he hesitated and sighed. "Fine. Sit."

Link looked a bit confused but he sat on the edge of the bed and Dev sat down on the ground in front of him. A bit of magic had the papers floating in front of and around him, and he changed his form a bit.

The green ribbon fell into his hand while his violet purple hair grew out to his mid-back. Link startled and Dev combed one hand through it.

"If it helps you relax," he said softly.

Link made a small noise, something a bit strangled but deeply touched. Fingers slid through his hair and Dev worked on the reports, murmuring what he was reading and doing to Link while the young captain braided his hair.

"When'd you have long hair?" Tune asked after a battle.

"Because Link needed to calm down and he said braiding hair helped," Dev answered, cleaning the blood off Tune's face with a rag. "Goddesses, bunso, you either gotta clean up your act or you're joining me for training after this."

Tune grinned. "Can I braid your hair?"

Dev shrugged. "If you want, sure. Not now though. Later."

Tune lit up.

After that, Dev just kept his hair long, usually braided by either Tune or Link, and then he became Mask's practice as the fairy boy wanted to learn how to as well.

It was the nature of all things to end, and war was counted among them.

Dev pulled Ravio into a tight hug, as the merchant was one of the first to go back home.

"I'll see you in a minute," Ravio joked weakly.

Dev wanted to cry. "Bye, Ravi."

"Bye, Link," Ravio whispered, his words unheard by everyone else. "Be happy."

Dev tightened his hug before finally letting go. Ravio squeezed his hands before he gave another boisterous goodbye to everyone. Declaring they'd get discounts if they ever visited his shop.

Then he was gone.

Dev stepped back beside Link.

"You knew each other," Link said.

Dev gave a strained laugh. "You could say that."

Midna had insulted them all on her way out. Marin left with a promise to never forget them.

One by one, everyone returned home, then it was just four three heroes remaining.

Mask did the best at staying strong. Link pulled them both into tight hugs, Tune clung to him but declared that Link would be alright and now Tune had plenty of stories to tell Aryll when he got home.

Mask had quietly told Link that he better take care of himself from now on.

"You hear me?" The little fairy boy glared weakly at Link. "You take care of yourself! You eat every day and sleep properly! We-We—We won't be here to make you do it anymore, so you—You gotta do it."

Link was in tears. "I will, Dev's still here to be annoying. I'll be alright, Sapling. Just—Go home and be happy, okay? Promise me that you'll find something to be happy about."

Mask's facade broke and he was in tears, crying against Link's chest.

Tune stepped away from them and he turned to Dev. He approached and hugged the spirit, and Dev wrapped the young pirate in a tight hug.

"How... How do you and Ravio know each other?" Tune asked, his face against Dev's shoulder.

Dev smiled into the boy's hair as he tilted his head. "I was just like you once," he admitted in a quiet whisper, so quiet that neither Mask nor Link could hear him. "A hero. I was younger than you, maybe even younger than Mask, when I first started."

Tune's eyes widened and he stared at him as he pulled away. Dev gently brushed his hair from his face, keeping eye contact.

"I saved Hyrule so many times, bunso. One of those times, I met this merchant... You may never visit this place or hear of it again, but there's a land called Lorule, and it's the opposite of Hyrule."

"Ravio said he's from Lorule," Tune recalled.

Dev nodded. "He is. But just as Lorule and Hyrule are mirrors, so are its people. Ravio is my mirror, he is my Lorulean counterpart. If you ever saw him without his hood, you would've seen the resemblance."

"But if he's from your past then... He's died," Tune realized. "That's why you were crying."

Dev chuckled softly. He kissed the top of Tune's head before mussing blond hair and dislodging the green cap.

"I've seen a lot of loved ones die, bunso," Dev admitted. "Ravio was one of the first, but he didn't die during my adventures, nor while I was Hylian. He died of old age. That's better than some fates I think we've both seen."

Tune nodded. "You're... you're a hero?"

"Not anymore. Now I guide the hero so they can succeed. If I have my way, I'll never have to raise a sword again... Magic rods are okay though."

Tune laughed wetly and he hugged Dev. "Love you, Dev," he muttered. "Thanks for being my big brother."

Dev hugged the kid as tight as he could. "No, thank you."

They pulled apart and Dev squeezed his shoulder.

"Now go conquer that ocean of yours, little pirate. And tell Aryll and Tetra hi from me and Fi."

Tune nodded rapidly. He hugged Link and Mask one more time, telling Mask he better take care of himself or he'd time travel just to make him do it. Mask had laughed wetly and teased Tune that he better tell Tetra he had a crush on her. Despite the prompt argument, they went through the portal holding hands, only letting go at the very last moment.

Dev spent that night talking with Link and hugging the young hero until he passed out from crying and losing the two kids he adore.

Next>>

#linked universe #lu legend #linkeduniverse #legend lu #fanfic #lu warriors #lu wind #lu mask #sword spirit legend #prosie writes #devotion au

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jgmartin · 4 months

Text

THE SLEIGH FATHER

[Short Horror]

I need to talk. Like, I really need to talk.

The trouble is, I don’t have anybody I can talk to. My family’s estranged, my friends are all gone, and the authorities think I’m a lunatic.

It's just five days from Christmas, and I’m alone. Isolated. If I don’t get this off my chest though, I’m afraid it’s going to start festering in my mind like a decaying carcass; I’m afraid it’s going to sink its teeth in.

So I’ll talk to you. All of you. It’s not perfect, but it will do.

My name's Terrance Sims. I’m sitting in my rocking chair, rifle draped across my lap, in bloodstained pyjamas that still reek with last night’s piss. I haven’t slept in two days, and I might not sleep for two more. Last night something came down my chimney, and I think it’s coming back.

I’m getting ahead of myself, so let me paint you a picture. I live alone, up in the mountains where the pine trees are draped in snow, and the rivers are an icy blue. I could be a bit more specific, but I don’t think it’s warranted. Besides that, I like my privacy.

All of this to say, where I am isn’t important. What matters is what I have to say.

I’m a researcher. Or at least, I was once upon a time. My funding has long been cut, and my job along with it, but I've stayed out here because I believed in the research my team was undertaking. It was revolutionary. It meant the possibility of bridging worlds, of seeing new forms of life.

Now I’m terrified that research has found me.

You’ve probably heard of monsters, or urban legends, of things that claw at our imaginations and lurk in the dark recesses of our minds. Perhaps you’ve even felt one. They wait there sometimes, prowling just beyond our vision, tearing at the fabric that holds our realities together. Desperate. Hungry.

My job was to study these beings. I was tasked with developing an understanding of not only what they wanted from us but how to gain access to their world: the place Beyond the Veil.

Needless to say, I wasn’t successful. The organization I worked for, the Facility, poured millions into my ideas and wasn’t forgiving of my failures. When my theories came up short, they cut ties with me– he cut ties with me.

“It’s unfortunate, but it’s business,” Mr. Reid had said, feet on his desk, long hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Your failures reflect on me, Terrance, and they’ve become an accounting nightmare.”

I had begged him. Groveled. It didn’t matter. I was terminated along with my research, and when you’re studying the kind of things I am, they don’t want that information leaking out into the world. It’s what they call a liability.

So I was blacklisted. Facility teams picked away at my reputation, whispering in the back corners of universities and at the water coolers of laboratories. My name became synonymous with paranoia and madness. I was a laughing stock among my peers. A joke.

It was the end of my life.

Only one person cared to associate with me afterwards, a junior colleague and a brilliant young man named Alexi Azimov. He believed in the research nearly as much as I did, and luckily for him, his name wasn’t attached to the project.

When the Facility pulled the plug and dragged my name through the dirt, they simply moved him to a new department, and that was that. Despite it, he spent his vacation days returning to the mountain, assisting me with further study whenever he could.

Until last year, when even he abandoned me.

But now I’ve shown all of them. I’ve proven they were wrong -- dead wrong. It’s here. He’s here. I always suspected he lived among these mountains, or at least that his Bridge was located within them, but I had given up hope for so long. It had been years, after all -- damn near a decade. They called me absurd. Insane.

Then, last night everything changed.

I was lying in bed, winding down after logging the readings on the temporal measurement equipment, when the cabin shook. At first, I thought an avalanche had struck it, but then I heard it: a clatter of hooves upon the roof.

I shot out of bed, my breath trapped in my chest and my body cold with sweat. I sprinted to the closet and pulled out my hunting rifle. Outside, a blizzard howled, but all I heard was the voice, a menagerie of tone and emotion, high and low, guttural and smooth. It rang out from above me.

Ho ho hO.

My first thought was to contact the Facility, but my satellite internet wasn’t functioning in the storm. Even if it were, I knew better. I was too far. Too isolated for help.

The mountains I study in are remote, and the cabin even more so. It was chosen for its seclusion as a means of observing the being known as the Sleigh Father, but the circumstances were meant to be different.

Much different.

Above me, the ceiling creaked, and dust drifted down from the rafters. Boots crunched upon the snow-caked roof. You always think you’ll know what to do when the moment comes, that your training will kick in, and you’ll just go through the motions like some kind of pre-programmed robot. I wish that were true. I really do.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think.

I’d spent the better part of my career chasing that monster, and now that it’d found me, I was lost. My fingers played against the trigger of my rifle, my mouth dry, and my eyes latched open. Inside of me, my body thrummed with terror. My fight or flight response oscillated between cowardice and impulsive foolishness. I was paralyzed. Alone.

A chorus of chattering pierced the screaming wind. It came fast and jittery, like a ticking clock marking time in microseconds. I knew what it was before the hoofbeats followed. It was them, the creatures the Sleigh Father commissioned in the First Days when people still feared the night and all the horrors within. Eight abominations, stitched together by the innards of mutilated children.

Their agony acted as his gateway– his Bridge between worlds. The souls of the children lived on in the beasts, while their vacant spirits stalked the earth, lost and hopeless, seeking the missing piece that would finally grant them rest. Their tortured existence was his Link to our reality. The sleigh the abominations drew, his Bridge.

The thought shook me from my trance. I’d spent years waiting for this—a chance to see the other side, to see other worlds.

I had to act, so I lurched forward, moving through the lonely cabin while the Sleigh Father’s footsteps creaked above me. HO hO ho. He lumbered toward the chimney while I shivered down the cold hallway, rifle trembling in my skinny arms.

It took me only a few moments to reach the living area, and when I did, I settled there, just behind the corner of the wall. I kept my gun leveled at the fireplace, and my eyes plastered open. A crackling blaze danced in the hearth. It cast the sparse furnishings in an orange glow, throwing shadows across the loveseat and the messy desks.

The night became still.

The snowstorm quieted. The hoofbeats vanished. There was no sound of boots, no sound of laughter, only the snapping flames and my heart pounding blood through my skull. My mouth moved, and words spilled out. Affirmations. Come on, I muttered. Slide down the chimney, you beast. The fire’s waiting for you.

I knew better. Of course I did. I’d spent years researching the Sleigh Father, consuming tireless hours reading into his history. Of all the monsters the Facility had dealt with, the terrors that haunted old email chains and the urban legends that spread through panicked breaths, he was the anomaly. He was celebrated.

Santa Claus, they called him.

It was an error I traced back to centuries ago when a young girl witnessed her abusive father taken by the Sleigh Father. The creature devoured him and left the man’s skull as a parting gift, having taken what he came for: a human soul. To the girl, the beast was a savior.

A saint.

The words she spoke in the following weeks, months, and years became immortalized. They became history, and then they became legend. A jolly being, laughing and hungry, coming down the chimney and leaving gifts in its wake. It was as tantalizing a tale as they come, especially to young children, eager to be appeased in their search for comfort and joy.

Now he was here with me, looking for another soul to add to his collection.

Seconds stretched into minutes as I waited, tucked quietly behind the corner of the wall, rifle in my arms, elbow steadied upon my knee. Once, we had contingencies for this. Plans in place that provided the means to incapacitate the Sleigh Father should he pay us a visit, but those plans involved government agents no longer in my employ. They involved expensive technology and complex spells. They were a last resort.

A clump of snow fell down the chimney, and the fire responded with a hiss of steam. Its flame retreated for a moment, flickering, before lashing back in anger. Something heavy shuffled above– the Sleigh Father.

Emotions swam inside of me. Regret. Anger. Fear. Why had I stayed out here? How could I have been so stubborn, so goddamn arrogant?

The answer was obvious: my old boss, Donovan Reid. His mockery, his wanton destruction of my life. It left me with no other option. Either I remained on this mountain, burning through my life’s savings and hunting wayward game, or I returned home. One meant a chance at redemption, the other guaranteed humiliation and disgrace.

I hated Mr. Reid more than words could say. Alexi had seen it. He’d seen how much my loathing distracted me, and so he recommended methods to help get the snake off my mind. A list, he’d said in an email last month. Write a list of all the ways you want to hurt him. Write a list of all the horrible things you want to happen to him. I think it could help you get him out of your head and free up your attention.

It helped– a little.

hO ho HO.

The laugh came high and low, husky and slick. A crunch followed it, like something digging into brick, and panic found its way into my bones. Dust and debris fell into the flames. The Sleigh Father's legend was explicit in his form of entry: if possible, it was always the chimney.

A grunt came down the flue, followed by more pebbles and stones. Then, the cabin shook. It was as if something heavy had jumped from the roof -- and what comes up must come down.

A pulverizing cacophony filled the night like cannon fire. Rubble tumbled into the blazing hearth while the bricks of the chimney bulged outwards, crumbling as something massive shot down it. I barely brought my rifle on aim before a figure crashed into the flames.

Burning logs shattered with a thunderous crack, plunging the cabin into inky darkness. Wooden splinters ricocheted around the room like blazing shrapnel, their slivers slashing at my face and tracing my skin in searing agony. I swung back behind the protection of the hallway wall, rifle clutched to my chest.

My thoughts raced. This couldn’t be happening, I said to myself. It couldn’t. I slammed my eyes shut, trying to get my out-of-control breathing back in line. I was hyperventilating. Panicking. I had to calm down because if I didn’t, I would start making impulsive decisions, and impulsive decisions were a good way to die.

I opened my eyes.

The fire was gone. I could barely see a thing. A short distance away, boots groaned against hardwood, kicking past broken logs in the hearth. My finger quivered against the cold steel of the rifle’s trigger, and I desperately wanted to pull it, but I knew that if I did, then it was over. Either the Sleigh Father would die, or I would. The odds, I decided, were not in my favor.

So I waited.

A piece of me, infinitesimally small, wanted to see him, wanted to flick on a light or blindly fire into the darkness. I wanted to witness the monster that possessed my life for so long– if only for a second. But I didn’t. It’s not worth it, I told myself. It’s not worth it.

The footsteps stalked to the window, dragging something heavy behind them. Against the faint light of the moon, I made out the Sleigh Father’s silhouette. He was tall, inhumanly so. His neck craned forward, pressed against the top of the high cabin ceiling. A cloak was draped across his broad shoulders, and from his head slumped the pom of a stocking cap. Beside him sat a large sack.

“NaUghty oR niCe?” his voice hummed, in a discordant melody.

I didn’t reply. It seemed impossible, but a part of me held onto the belief that maybe he wasn’t speaking to me. Maybe he didn’t know I was there. It was just a monologue, perhaps– words for the night.

I raised the rifle, aiming it toward his massive figure. I could do it now, I reasoned. I could pull the trigger and hopefully make this nightmare disappear.

Ho HO hO.

The silhouette turned, its face masked in shadow, save for a single glint of bobbing light. “CaReFuL wiTh tHaT,” it said.

A cold breeze swept across me, and suddenly my fingers burned with agonizing frostbite. My rifle clattered to the floor while my hands trembled in pain. “YoU’ll TaKe yOur eYe OuT.”

“W-what do you want?” I stuttered, stumbling backward. My feet croaked on the floorboards as I came up against the back of the hallway. My heart hammered. Tears filled my vision as I cradled my cold hands against my stomach. “Please,” I whimpered.

“NaUgHty?” he sang. “Or NiCe?”

“Nice!” I said. “I’m a good man. I just wanted to l-learn about you.” The words stumbled out of my mouth like lemmings falling to their death. “I don’t mean any harm. I swear!”

The footsteps creaked closer, and as they did, the silhouette vanished from the window's moonlight. All that remained of it now were the sounds that it made. I listened intently to the burdensome echoes of boots on hardwood and the heavy scratching of coarse fabric being dragged across the floor.

ho Ho hO.

He was close. So close. I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable, waiting to die. Warm piss spilled down my leg, and my face screwed up as I fell to my knees, bawling on the floor. “Please,” I begged. “I'm a good man! I told you– please!”

The rumble of footfalls stopped, and in their place came the sound of rustling fabric, like somebody opening a sack.

“NiCe, yOu sAy?”

A dim light formed, radiating out of a burlap bag some five feet away. Behind its glow, I could make out a white, singed beard hanging over a red suit. The Sleigh Father’s face was otherwise indiscernible amidst the suffocating shadow, save for one dancing speck of light.

“WoULd yOu LiKe a GiFt?” he asked.

My mind raced. Was there anything in the mythology that warned against accepting gifts? I couldn’t recall. “Yes,” I hazarded, in a small voice. "Yes, please." It seemed unwise to refuse the creature.

hO ho Ho.

A massive, red-jacketed arm reached into the burlap sack. My eyes widened in horror as I realized the sack was moving. Kicking. Like there was something alive inside of it. Muffled screams followed, and the great arm pulled back, clutching a man by his long, blonde hair. The man thrashed and whimpered. Tears soaked his pale face.

Our eyes connected, mine and the man’s, and something ran through me. It was a feeling I’d never experienced before, a mixture of dark excitement and absolute loathing.

“You,” I said slowly.

The light from the sack was dim, but to the man, it was all he had known. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the heavy darkness of the cabin, and as they did, he peered toward me, eyelids pinched together to discern the voice speaking to him.

“Who’s there?” he whimpered.

I gazed forward in stunned silence. Was this real? There was no way. He dangled in the Sleigh Father's grasp like the finest Christmas present I'd ever seen.

“Hello?” his voice called. “Please, I have resources -- more than you could imagine! I’m a powerful man in government! Just get me the hell out of here, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” His voice turned weak, broken. “Please… please get me out of here. I have a family.”

I opened my mouth, but if words were there, I didn’t speak them. No. It seemed wasteful, at this moment, to reply so thoughtlessly. This moment necessitated careful words and a measured tone. It required my best.

“NauGhtY,” the Sleigh Father hummed. “So, sO NaUgHty.”

I found myself nodding along. Yes, the man was naughty. The worst. He was an abomination, fit for disposal. He’d doubted me– made a mockery of me, and torn apart the life I’d so carefully built.

“Donovan,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice level. “Donovan Reid, isn't it?”

The light was faint. So faint. In spite of it though, I could see Mr. Reid had finally realized who I was, whether because his eyes had adjusted or he recognized my voice. Perhaps a combination of the two. His expression fell.

“That voice…You used to work for me,” he choked out. “Didn’t you?”

I gazed at him, something horrible growing inside of me. It ate up all of my fear, my regret, my rage and it left only hunger in their wake—a desperate desire for retribution.

“I did.”

A pause. He sensed it there, in my reply. He sensed the disdain– the hatred. “I’m so sorry,” he said at length. “You were right. You were right about everything!”

“That's true,” I said. “And you were wrong.”

“Yes, I was.” He winced in agony as the Sleigh Father lifted him higher by his tangled hair, then gently nudged him with a giant, clawed hand. Mr. Reid swung like a pendulum. “You were right,” he continued, weeping. “He’s real. Of fucking course he is! Are you–”

“– am I what?” I interjected. My hands, still burning with frostbite, became an afterthought in my mind. The warm piss in my pants hardly registered to me. I was beginning to build the puzzle. I was beginning to understand what this was. “Are you asking me if I’m going to help you?”

Silence.

“Of course I’ll help you,” I said. “I’m not a monster. Why would I ruin your life, all because you made a simple mistake?”

In the quiet of the cabin, Mr. Reid's shuddering tears struck the floorboards like gunshots. “T-thank you so much.” He hardly sounded like the man I knew. If he weren’t swinging in front of me, with his obnoxiously long hair and his fitted suit, I’d almost have doubted my own ears. He sounded weak. Cowardly.

“I’ll ask the Sleigh Father to release you if you can do one thing for me.”

hO ho HO.

“What is it? Anything! Your research is back on the table– of course, it is, you’re brilliant! Look at you. You saw this before any of us. You knew it was out there and–”

“What’s my name?”

“I’m sorry?” His words, once thundering along like a rollercoaster, crumpled into a heap. “Look, I’m not in a position to remember every fucking employee’s name. That was years ago! You need to be reasonable!”

I took a step forward, and the floorboards creaked. I understood what the situation was now. It was written in the subtext of the legend, the unspoken and unwritten words that undercut everything about the Sleigh Father. A singular concept, one still celebrated to this day.

Holiday cheer.

I reached out a hand, gripping Mr. Reid by his silky black tie. His swinging stopped, and I pulled at the accessory, making him choke and gag.

“Are you fucking…” he sputtered, “...crazy?” His face had lost the fear, the concern, the false remorse. In its place was something much more familiar.

Malice.

I let him go, and he gasped as his breath returned to him. My eyes shifted to the being behind him– the instrument of his destruction. The Sleigh Father remained still, clouded by darkness, with only his massive arm and singed white beard illuminated by the dim light spilling from his bag.

“NaUgHtY oR niCe?” the monster repeated, in that discordant voice masquerading as song.

My eyes connected with Mr. Reid's, and an irresistible smile crept along my lips. To see him there, helplessly hanging by his hair and a slave to my whims, filled something inside of me I didn’t realize I was missing. It filled a need for power– a need to be respected.

“Naughty,” I said, surprising myself with the tone of authority. “Donovan Reid is a terrible man.”

Ho ho Oh.

“No!” Mr. Reid screamed, even as the great red arm lifted him up to the rafters of the ceiling. His face screwed up in agony as the Sleigh Father gripped his legs with his other hand. “Please!” he shrieked, horizontal in the air. “Please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorr–”

His words were interrupted by the wet splatter of his intestines striking the cabin floor. It was hard to see in the darkness but easy to hear. I listened as the Sleigh Father pulled Donovan Reid apart, one end from the other, his innards slapping against the ground like spoiled fruit.

“Why…” Mr. Reid's last word died on his lips as the Sleigh Father slammed both pieces of him against the cabin floor, drenching me in an explosion of blood and bone.

When it was finished, I sat in warm, wet silence. Donovan Reid's blood dripped from my mess of hair and soaked through my thermal pajamas. Something akin to a near-death experience flashed before my eyes, except it was aspects of my life and my research.

I always believed the Sleigh Father to have been little more than a simple reaper. A monster hungry for souls, or other forms of mortal sustenance, piecing the veil once a year when its hunger grew too insatiable to ignore.

I had been wrong.

Much of the Santa Clause mythology fitted the Sleigh Father. More than I or Alexi ever expected. He didn’t just feed on souls. He fed on people’s joy. Their mirth. It appeared as though he required both pieces to be fully satiated, and such a phenomenon provided much more context to the original myth.

That girl, centuries ago, had been joyous when the Sleigh Father devoured her father, hadn’t she? And now I had been joyous when he’d gifted me my revenge. I’d felt ecstatic watching Mr. Reid die.

Ho ho HO.

The cabin began to tremble, and soon the very floorboards snapped, and the windows rattled. It felt like it was being torn from its foundations. I steadied myself against the wall as a blinding light exploded from Donovan Reid's skull before quelling to a gentle gleam. It snaked around the cabin, revealing the full extent of the building’s disarray.

Tables had been upturned, documents littered the floor, and the fireplace had become little more than a pile of bricks and a frigid breeze. Shafts of moonlight pierced through the hole in the ceiling the chimney once occupied, revealing Mr. Reid's blood and bones scattered all over. The cabin was soaked in his blood.

Then, the floating light passed across the Sleigh Father.

It revealed a behemoth, clad in crimson cotton with white trim. Two legs burst from the long red jacket, coated in coarse, black fur that ended in leather boots. As the light swam upwards, I caught sight of the creature’s arm scratching at its barrel chest. Its fingers were thick, human, but decaying. What I had earlier mistaken for claws were actually long, curled fingernails.

“Thank you,” I breathed, my heart thundering. “Thank you for this.”

“TiS tHe SeaSon,” it sang with a laugh.

The orb of light ascended towards its mouth, and for the first time, I saw the monster’s face. It was human but mangled. Above its white shock of beard were two pieces of coal, seared into its eye sockets. The skin of its face was discolored, a pock-marked mess of swollen, blistered flesh that sagged around its skull, and its nose was little more than two slits, with the faintest impression of bone jutting from beneath.

Burns, I realized. His face had been burned beyond recognition.

As the tiny orb of light finished its ascent, it revealed the Sleigh Father’s red stocking cap. At the end of it was a white pom, and it blinked. It was looking at me. An eyeball twinkled where the pom should have been, glimmering like a star in the night.

It seemed clear to me the creature meant me no harm, and so the researcher inside of me took over. “Can I ask you–” I began, before being cut off by a roaring sound of wind.

The Sleigh Father had opened its mouth, and within its jaws, a blizzard roared, frigid and horrible. My hands, anguished with frostbite, became numb and unresponsive. My ears screamed, and my nose throbbed. My entire body ached with the stabbing sensation of absolute winter.

Then, the light orb vanished, sucked up inside the Sleigh Father’s mouth, and so too did the cold. I heard what sounded like a gulp and a swallow, and then another discordant, tuneless round of hO HO Ho.

Darkness returned.

The Sleigh Father turned, his twinkling eye vanishing as he did, and began walking away from me. His lumbering footfalls crunched along the cabin floor, snapping pieces of Mr. Reid's bones as he made his way back to the demolished chimney. “MeRrY cHRiStMaS tO aLL,” the Sleigh Father sang.

I heaved a breath, warmth returning to my extremities. I couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in decades, I felt full of Christmas cheer, so much so that I even finished the rhyme for him. “And to all a good night!”

His boots stopped, and the floor groaned as he turned back to me, that bouncing eye gleaming in the night. “MErRy cHriStMaS tO aLL,” he repeated, though his voice had lost its whimsy. “I’LL sEe YoU iN tWo NiGhTs.”

My jaw fell open, the smile dying on my lips. No, that wasn’t right. Why would he come back? I already had what I wanted. Mr. Reid was dead. The Sleigh Father turned around toward the chimney, chuckling to himself.

“Hang on!” I spat, my voice cracking. “You don’t have to come back. It’s fine! Seeing you was enough! I just needed to know I wasn’t crazy– that I was right!”

“NAuGhTy,” he hummed, “Or RiGhT?”

I blinked, not understanding. That wasn’t the rhyme. “Nice,” I said. “I’m not naughty– I’m nice! I’m a good person that was abused and taken advantage of, just like that girl you saved. Remember?”

hO ho Ho.

His laughter echoed around the ruined cabin. “NAuGhTy aNd RiGhT. i’LL sEe YoU iN tWo NiGhTs.”

He stepped into the remains of the ruined chimney, and shafts of moonlight framed him through the broken ceiling. His beard upturned with a smile, and then he bent his great legs and leapt upward with a grunt.

A moment later, the ceiling trembled, and pieces of rafter crashed down around me. Above, I heard the Sleigh Father’s chorus of Ho ho Oh, and his heavy boots crunching on snow. Then came the whip of reins and the rapid chatter of eight abominations preparing to take flight.

Their hooves pounded against the roof in anticipation. Two more whip cracks and the cabin rafters whined as the sleigh began to move, slowly at first, before the monsters broke off into a rumbling gallop.

Through the shattered ceiling, I caught sight of the godless creatures taking flight. They were monsters in the truest sense of the word; pieces of children chopped up and reassembled into beasts of burden. Some had six legs and one arm, others three heads and four feet upon two legs. As the last remnants of the Sleigh Father’s laughter faded in the distance, I idly wondered if he purposefully designed the beasts to be more hideous than himself.

I chewed on the thought as I stumbled toward the kitchen, grabbing a flashlight from the drawer and flicking it on as I went. I used it to locate a blanket and a laptop, and then took a seat in the old rocking chair.

With the blizzard gone, the night was uncharacteristically warm. Whether or not that was a consequence of the Sleigh Father's visit, I couldn’t say, but I was thankful for it. It made thinking easier.

I flipped the computer open, and my face was bathed in a blue glow. I noted the satellite connection was back online. Good. My fingers rocketed across the keyboard, sending out multiple emails to my contacts at the Facility.

I’ve done it, I told them. I’ve proven the existence of the Sleigh Father. Not only that, I added, but he told me he’s returning in two days’ time. We can acquire his sleigh. His Bridge.

I hit send, exhaling a sigh of relief. I truly had done it. I’d redeemed my name. I’d resurrected my reputation and executed the monster that murdered it in the first place. It had been a busy night. An important night.

I fully believed the Sleigh Father would return for me, but with the Facility’s resources, I suspected we could handle him. Their warlocks could do wonderful things with spells.

My computer pinged with the first email alert, a reply from the Facility's hiring manager. I figured why wait? I had a job to return to. The sooner I got paid for my work again, the better.

“Good evening, Dr. Sims," it read.

"Your work for the Facility has been greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, we have located another talent that has proven more reliable. Your contract will not be reinstated.”

I stared at the screen in confusion. Had they even read my email? I just told them I located the damn Sleigh Father! I just explained how I found the Bridge between worlds!

Cursing, I began typing my response. Two more email alerts pinged in the corner of my screen, distracting me.

No matter, I thought to myself. The hiring manager could wait. I clicked on the first new email. It was from an old colleague of mine, Anna Ling, a former team member on the Sleigh Father research project, and one with high-level security access.

“I am so sorry,” it read. “Take care, Terry.”

Sorry? Did she think I was insane? I clenched my fist, my frustration mounting at the thick-headedness of these idiots. I was sitting on possibly the most significant discovery in the history of mankind, and they were brushing me off like a common madman.

Bitterly, I clicked on the third email. It was from the Director of Research and Development– Mr. Reid's boss.

Good to hear from you, Terrance!

First off, I’d like to say we’re recommending you for the Medal of Merit. Your work has been incredible, and dare I say, worthy of certain additional awards down the line. Can you say Nobel prize?

I paused, a smile forming on my lips. This was more like it. I always found the Director of R&D to be a shrewd and clever woman. It was little wonder she saw the potential of this opportunity as soon as I presented it.

I continued reading.

Of course, public awards are off the table until the Bridge has been put to proper use. We’ll have to deal with the upcoming conflict first before spilling the beans on this new technology, but trust me, once we can, your name is going in the hat. I’ll be personally recommending you! I imagine you’re probably a little upset. It’s a terrifying prospect, what’s to come, but…

I blinked, shaking my head in confusion. Terrifying? That’s an odd way to describe a Nobel prize. No matter. I continued reading.

... unfortunately, it was the only option we saw available. Dr. Azimov has been a huge help in getting all of this setup, and we’re genuinely thankful for your cooperation in the matter. What’s losing another thirty years of life when you’ll be immortalized in history, eh?

Dr. Azimov? Alexi Azimov? What the hell, that couldn’t be right. Alexi abandoned the project a year ago. Sure, he’d occasionally kept up with me via email– more for my sanity than anything, but he had nothing to do with this. His mental exercise of listing my intrusive thoughts helped clear my head some, but that didn’t warrant such accolades. I did this. Me.

Furious, I clicked reply. Before I could finish the first word of my response, my computer pinged with another email. It was the last contact I’d messaged: Alexi.

Terrance,

I hope you’re well. In fact, I suspect you’re feeling quite good, if not a little confused. I know how much the Sleigh Father project meant to you. To be frank, your obsession with it has concerned me. It isn’t healthy. It’s damaging.

Before I go any further, I’d like to assure you that the Facility will be arriving at the mountain later this evening. They’ll be monitoring you from a safe distance, and when the Sleigh Father returns in two nights’ time, they’ll attempt to apprehend his Bridge.

I let loose a sigh of relief. Good. I knew I could count on Alexi -- even if he was trying to steal some credit for this. I cracked an exasperated smile and kept reading. It was probably a misunderstanding.

Earlier this year, I discovered some lore. I thought it might help both of us. You and I. You see, old friend, I have come to realize that the Sleigh Father shares more in common with the Santa Claus myth than either of us recognized. All those weeks, months, and years of study and failed attempts to locate the monster were rooted in a singular problem: we were too focused on the science of it all.

The Sleigh Father is a being that transcends science, of course. An anomaly. A myth. So it was to that mythology I returned. Within it, I found the means to quell some of your suffering and offer you an opportunity to have a merry Christmas before you pass from this world.

My fingers ached. I realized I was clutching the sides of the laptop hard enough that the plastic shell began to crack. I reread Alexi’s words. Before I pass from this world? What kind of phrasing is that?

Trust me, Terrance. It will be better for you this way. Easier. I know you're probably wondering what I'm talking about, so let me provide you with some background details.

I discovered that lists have the power to summon the Sleigh Father. They act as a sort of ritual or an offering to it. When one creates a list, the creature will sometimes deign them with their request -- providing they want it desperately enough. It is our emotional energy that calls to the Sleigh Father. It feeds upon our joy and our sorrow, our wishes and fears.

Your list to Donovan Reid was drenched in emotion. I suspected that if my theory was correct, given your relative proximity to the Sleigh Father’s Bridge and your hatred for Mr. Reid, you could provoke an encounter with the being. I’m happy to hear I was correct in that regard!

My eyes scanned his words, and my teeth dug into my lip. That son of a bitch. That absolute piece of shit. I made to get up and grab a new piece of paper, one I could use to write Alexi’s name on. I'd list it a thousand times, with a thousand different ways I wanted him dead.

But the email wasn’t finished.

Of course, there’s more to the Santa Claus mythology than simple lists. There are consequences. One such consequence is when somebody requests something selfish or sufficiently deplorable. It is the Naughty or Nice paradigm, and we see it reflected heavily in the mythology. It’s what I was counting on tonight.

Your desire for Mr. Reid’s death was selfish and, frankly, monstrous. You'll excuse my dry sense of humor, but it really was a Naughty sort of thing. I’m genuinely sad to know Mr. Reid passed with such brutality, but I’m happy to know it will pave the way to ending the coming war and saving billions of lives.

When the Sleigh Father returns to claim your deplorable soul, please know that it was never something I wanted. If you could have lived, I would have preferred that. Same too with Mr. Reid.

Unfortunately, we’re running out of time, and sacrifices must be made. The Eldritch horrors are knocking on our front door, Terrance. You know that. You know I had no choice.

Just know that you and Mr. Reid will be remembered for what you gave. Carpe diem, old friend.

P.S.

If at all possible, please draw the Sleigh Father as far from his Bridge as you can. Our team will have an easier time retrieving the sleigh that way.

Happy Holidays,

Alexi.

I closed the laptop. I didn’t even bother writing a reply. What was there left to say? ‘Fuck you, asshole?’ No, it wasn’t worth the energy. I doubted he’d even care to read it. He already got everything he wanted, after all. He had me right where he wanted me, and now he would get all of the credit.

That son of a bitch.

I stewed in my rage for a long time. Long enough that birds chirped overhead, and the golden light of dawn seeped in through the cabin window. Eventually, I decided what would happen next.

You would– all of you.

See, the Sleigh Father might be coming for me tonight, and it might be true that I don’t have a way out of here. The Facility is too powerful. Too all-reaching. But not even they can stop the wildfire of public outrage. So here it is, my testament, the true account of the final days of my life, and the research that led to them.

I’m not asking to be deified. I’m not even asking for a street in my name. I just want people to know the real story about what happened out here, on this snowy mountain. You’ll forgive me for not trusting the Facility to represent my contributions to this project properly. They’ve already spoiled my name once. Who’s to say they won’t keep dragging it through the dirt after I’m dead?

Words are cheap, and I know better than to trust emails from suits. So I’m begging you to spread this, far and wide. Tell my story the way it truly happened, warts and all. I’m not a perfect person, but I’m not a madman either. The Sleigh Father came to me. I witnessed him, not Alexi– me.

Tonight, when the creature returns, I won’t even run from my death. I’ll lead the bastard away, just like that snake Alexi asked. It’ll be my final contribution to my life’s research. A contribution I hope might lead to a better world someday. If they manage to steal the sleigh, then it’ll be a colossal boon in the war to come. If they don’t…

Well, just be careful what you wish for this Christmas.

Some gifts aren’t worth the price.

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marshmallowprotection · 2 years

Text

Mystic Messenger 6th Anniversary

I woke up a little late today so you can imagine my surprise when the photo was already out and people were posting it out in the open. However, I had to take a few minutes to collect myself and cry after I saw the photo because it struck me so quickly and hard that my heart couldn’t help but weep. Happy Six Years, RFA. I’m happy to be here with you. Let’s get into it and have our breakdown together for the day.

Now, if you pay close attention to the background of the photo, you’ll notice that there’s CGs from every route. Every character has a portrait on the wall that is a reflection of their relationship with MC. The only photo that isn’t actually clear to me on the wall is the photo from Yoosung’s Route. I can see the outline of that frame but I don’t have enough detail to guess what photo they wanted to use for him. I’ve been hunting the clearest photo I can find of this title screen but this is the only one that’s clear to me enough to reveal details.

I’m doing my best over here since it just came out! Hopefully, we’ll get clearer photos as the day progresses. You don’t know how badly I need to change my icon to this photo. You don’t even know. Anyway, I’ll show you photos that are used in the background if you’re not able to see them! There’s a mixture of the birthday photos and route photos.

So, yes, there’s photos for each member of the RFA on the wall. It’s reflective of the time we’ve spent with them over the past six years. I think this is going to be one of my favorite CGs ever because it contains everyone and it’s a homage to every moment we’ve had with them. Some of the are impactful and others are a piece of love that cannot be contained in mere words.

The love Jumin feelings for you on his birthday because you’re the greatest gift he’s ever received and he will never be ungrateful for your love. The adoration in Jaehee’s eyes as she’s able to realize she’s finally got someone by her side who will never stop trying to support her dreams. The relief on Zen’s face when he’s certain that you love him for who he is on the inside and he will never fear being misunderstood ever again.

The love in Saeran’s eyes and arms as he holds you tightly, knowing that his love for you is eternal as a rose, and he’ll never be sad after knowing your love. The peace in Saeyoung’s expression as he looks to you like you’re his north star and the way for him to find home. The peaceful look on Jihyun’s face as he’s so caught up in the reality that he’s no longer chained by his demons, instead, he’s with you where his heart feels fonder.

Yoosung’s isn’t visible, but I’m certain that they’ve used this photo from his Route where his bravery and determination to be there for you like you’ve been there for him is reflected by a sincere kiss only he can give. I don’t know if that’s what it would be but I feel like this is a good reflection of Yoosung and it’s what I would choose.

The only painting left on the wall is Rika. I was curious how they were going to include Rika in this photo since they usually want to avoid the connection, but this is definitely one way to get her into the photo and not have it be obvious to players what’s actually going on. The implicated of her in this painting does do enough to make me believe this is meant to be a mesh of Mint Eye and RFA to the letter. Cheritz said so themselves.

That’s how I know this photo includes Ray instead of GE Saeran. It’s meant to imply the Routes that you can play in this game. This is the first time in forever that I’ve had a photo of Ray and I’m getting really emotional about seeing him again. I love all the Ray’s and Saeran’s, but everyone knows that my love for Ray is the strongest.

I can say that I truly love the way that this artist draws Rika because her hair is one of her most defining character traits. The add volume, texture, and highlights in such a way that it makes Rika look ethereal. That’s the way she’s meant to be whenever you look at her before you know what’s going on. I can see this as one of the paintings in Mint Eye’s hallways as homage to the Savior that people love and adore as their martyr.

That necklace she’s wearing? Chef’s kiss. It looks like the sun.

I knew the Casual Routes would be together in this photo. I got it mixed up since Jaehee and Zen are on the opposite side but that’s got a lot to do with the way it is drawn. The lighting is normally how I can gauge what’s going on in the photo! I can’t tell in some of these photos because they dim the lighting just enough so it becomes a heroic feat to gauge where Zen and Saeran are. Their hair can be so hard to find. Zen reminds me of his outfit where he played Zoro!

I think it’s that mask that’s doing it. Yeah, it’s definitely the mask that’s doing it for me. Yoosung is really adorable in this photo. I love that they went for something charmingly boyish. His eyes are just... God, he’s looking at you like a love struck puppy. Sorry, Yoosung. I think you’re great but sometimes you’ve just got those puppy vibes that don’t go away. You love that MC, don’t you?

Jaehee’s got it all today, though. Her butterfly mask? The implication that she went through what we know as a metamorphosis to become her dazzling self? You don’t even know. She’s smiling here because she knows you’re his closest friend and partner. I also have to note that Jaehee’s mask looks a lot like the one we see on Rika.

It’s been forever and a day since I’ve seen Jihyun and Jumin standing side by side. I’ve missed that. I miss seeing them together in any capacity, not going to lie about that one. That silly hat that V’s got on? Yeah, that’s very fitting for him even though it’s got The Cask of Amontillado written all over it. I hope nobody’s going to lock him in a dungeon or anything. Haha. But, yeah, I love the way he looks here. It reminds me of the Sherlock outfit he had. Jumin, on the hand, is really doing it today, huh?

That stance? That pose? That aura? Yeah, we appreciate Jumin Han in this house. I love his natural smile. His hair here looks amazing. I have to give him credit for that. I actually love the tailored coat on him since those embellishments really make it pop against his color scheme. I honest to God can’t tell what the masks on Jumin or V are representative of but I think I need a clearer photo to figure it out.

Let me tell you I died when I saw my baby Ray. I died. I am deceased. He is so ominous and attractive. I know that’s Ray because that has to be Ray. I love him so much that I can’t even put it into words. He’s holding that blue rose... but he’s also hopeful. He’s looking at the player, at MC, and he’s hoping that you’ll come to find him tonight and let him whisk you away into a garden meant for you and he both. I will follow him to Hell, I will jump off a bridge, I will do anything he will ask me to do, My God.

I am.

GOD.

I LOVE HIM, YOUR HONOR.

It’s too blurry to know if that’s a flower or a gem. Give me time on that one, you guys.

I love his side-swept bangs so much. I love whenever they draw him like this, I will scream. If you heard screaming outside of your house it was probably the sound I made when I saw him earlier. That’s what we’re doing today, I guess. I will lose my mind again and again.

Although, when I look at the twins like this... I start to notice more and more why Saejoong said that Saeran favored his mother’s looks and Saeyoung leaned a bit more towards Saejoong. I think it’s the way artists decide to draw their eyes that makes me feel that way. There’s something subtle in that. I don’t know what it is exactly. Since, apart from their eyes, there’s not much you could see that will make you see them differently. They’re identical twins, after all.

Saeyoung... honey. You really rock that gothic Victorian aesthetic and I’m going to demand we see that more. I love everything about his outfit and the way he’s standing. He looks so happy to see you and he’s waving with a smile on his face as if to say, “Hey, MC! You’ve finally made it!” You know what stands out to me about Saeyoung? His mask has an hourglass.

Hell, Ray’s mask has the checkerboard pattern from the app that you’ve probably seen before. So, you know there’s a lot of little things in this that I’ve yet to see anyone to talk about since there’s so much information in this photo that you can hardly find everything to talk about! I’m sure I’ve missed plenty of things but I’m scanning this thing like it’s a map to my heart.

It’s been six years in this world since the RFA came into my life. I’m sure it’s the same for many of you no matter how long you’ve been here with us. I know y’all are thinking about how much it means to see every member in this photo and it has to make you reflect on your experiences with the RFA. I’m grateful for every moment that I’ve had with them because every day spent with them has made me feel like I’m learning how to be a better person and I’m slowly realizing how to achieve my goals just like they do in their routes.

I know we help them and save them... but... I can’t help but admit that they’ve saved me, too. I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for the RFA. I don’t like to think about that because the RFA has helped me to be where I am today and I don’t know if I would be as peaceful and content as I am if it wasn’t for them. I’m happy they’re in my life... and I’m never going to lose the connection I have to all of these characters no matter how far I go in life.

They mean everything to me.

I never want to forget that feeling.

There’s so many things that I could say after six years of being with these characters and the things they’ve done for me. But, I think that might just become overwhelmingly emotional for me. I can say this much about the members of the RFA. 2016 was the hardest year of my life by far. I lost so much around me at once without warning, and I was suffering in ways that I still struggle to put onto paper to this day. But, in the midst of that suffering, I discovered Mystic Messenger that August.

I played Zen’s Route first and I remember how he made me feel me feel seen after a lifetime of struggling to look in a mirror. I remember playing Yoosung’s Route after that... and I lost a family member that year, and I felt like Yoosung understood my pain and anger about a lot of that stuff. He helped me find some peace. I remember Jaehee’s Route and how she pushed herself into doing the things that were expected of her instead of following her dreams... and how I’d been trying to do that to myself. We both needed to wake up, huh?

I remember Jumin’s Route... feeling like the world misunderstood the way I saw things and how people never knew the real me. Jumin was kind but people didn’t ever seem to see the true him underneath the public image. He helped me feel a lot better about finding a small circle that mattered the most instead of thinking about what the world thought. I remember Saeyoung’s Route, too. I remember what it felt like to give up everything to save someone you love, and I knew his pain like it was mine, and helping him was a reminder to think about what you want just as much as what you want for others.

I remember Jihyun’s Route... how it feels to refuse help from everyone even if you know it’s wrong to do that. Sometimes, he and I have that in common, and it’s hard to remember that it’s okay to ask for help from people. I learned that through him and he learned that through me. We both needed that, I know that much.

I even learned a lot from Rika along the way about how you should always be willing to accept change and the future... if you don’t, you might lose yourself to the very feelings that you’re afraid of. Sometimes, I feel for her in ways that I’m sure most people don’t, but if anything, she’s a reminder to look out for yourself and find truth in yourself instead of the demons that haunt you.

And... Saeran.

Unknown. SE Saeran. Ray. Suit Saeran. GE Saeran.

They’ve been my interest from the start. Ever since I met Unknown the first time I got the Bad Ending in the Prologue, I knew there was something about him I’d never be able to get out of my head. I played Mystic Messenger hunting for him and searching for clues to tell me about him. I learned more and more the more time I spent with the RFA. I came to love him and identify with him the longer I’d played, and I still do.

I can’t put into words just how much Saeran Choi means to me as a person. I’m just another one of his fans. We all see something special in him and the others in this game. But, whenever I see him, it always feels like he’s speaking to me. I guess that’s silly. I know he’s not. But... his words deeply impacted my heart and my soul. He makes me feel safe and understood. I’m grateful for his words and his love.

His journey has kept me going all this time and it’ll keep me going for the rest of my life.

And, so, my dear followers and readers, I finish this post with the most touching part of the photo that most of you might not have noticed. We’re in the photo with the RFA. The fact that it’s Zen’s hand is what’s had me choked up all this time because he was my first route and it’s like he’s leading me to join the others all over again, and I can with certainty, say that I’d do it all again from the start without a moment of hesitation.

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mossofthewoodsjewelry · 2 years

Note

Are you ever coming back? 🥺

First of all hello anon you made me cry

The short answer: I want to

The long answer, if you'll indulge me on a little self reflection, is:

As I said before, for basically all of 2020 through 2021 (and probably much before that? Time feels fake these days) I hit an impassible wall of burnout with my jewelry, combined with the adult content ban on tumblr basically driving away such a big chunk of the audience I had spent years comfortable with. I knew I needed to branch out to other sites if I wanted to continue to have making jewelry be my full time job, and I tried twitter, and I tried instagram, but I really just couldn't bring myself to do the whole social media brand building thing again, especially not least of all on sites where I liked the vibe and community much less than here. A big part of it was, and continues to be, an exhaustion and burnout with social media in general. With twitter, it felt like you were way too pressured to be always present, always posting. With Instagram, it felt like too much pressure to be "personality as product", to have a consumable public Self (difficult for someone with serious self image issues).

All that is to say, as I have said in the past, I wound up getting really invested in and learning how to 3d model and eventually how to make 3d vtuber models. It's really fun and rewarding work for me, known nerd, who loves to get into really meticulous and technical art. I was very lucky that there is a high demand for that work, and I lucked out getting commissions fairly regularly.

However, it's also deeply time consuming work, and no matter how much I work, I still fall behind the speed at which I would like to finish peoples' commissions for them. So, for the time being, I just haven't had time to work on any other art.

I've been thinking a lot about my jewelry here and there, now that enough time has passed that the burnout has subsided. I would like to be able to make it once again, now with the renewed freedom of not having to make it be a full time job, or even really need to make much money off of it at all. I miss doing in-person fairs. I miss working with my hands.

If I manage to get a better handle on my time, and get the chance to make some more stuff, I'll come back. It will be irregular and it will be more relaxed and I will not be able to make as many things, and that's okay with me now. I'm hoping I will get that chance when I finish with my current batch of commissions, which at this point will not be until well into 2023.

I do understand the melancholy of being suddenly deprived of a creative voice you were used to being a part of your life. If for some reason I can't imagine, you miss me, and don't particularly care what I'm doing, message me off anon and I'll give you my twitter for my 3d modelling work. In addition, I still have my personal miscellaneous blog here, @skwivr as well as my photography blog, @rabbitinthemeadow which I have also been inactive on for months, but at least have every plan to come back to just as soon as I have time to process my big backlog of photos for it.

Either way, I miss you all, thank you for all the years you gave me, and I hope to see you soon as we both grow and change together.

#long post #hello to everyone who doesn't remember following me who was just startled seeing this post pop up #i hope you are having a beautiful saturday

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heyyallitsbethfanfic · 2 days

Text

The Ghost of You

“Kirito, are you feeling alright?” The autumn-haired girl stoked the dark hair of the noir boy who laid his head on her stomach.

“Hmm? Yeah everything’s fine Asu, why?” While his demeanor was calm, she could tell there was something eating him up inside.

“Of course honey, but call them every night at least okay?”

“Do you need me to look after Excalibur for you? You lost most of your items the last time you converted over…”

“Haha, nah that’s not an issue. Sinons already got that covered, after all, it’s her sword, she just knighted me with it.” He laughed seeing the flustered face of his wife, even though their situation was more open than most, she still got a little jealous of the girl’s hanging off of him, especially the teal sniper who taunted the two of them the most. “And if she converts, it should default to Yui now since she’s taken my inventory any other time I convert.”

“Alright, we should get back to the others to continue the quests now, good chance for you to say bye before you log off for a while anyway.”

“Of course. Dontcha go marryin someone else without my permission first~”

“H-hey!”

“Even if she does, you’ll still always be my beloved partner, promise~”

“Heh. Didn’t take much convincing- you’re so cute.”

The spriggan rested on the undine, never wanting to leave her. But today, he needed to face his fears. Alone. A mission for the solo player.

…

A week ago Kazuto had been out with his sister Suguha though they were only related tangentially as cousins. That became something Kazuto had become fixated on as throughout their day out, multiple people had stopped them, asking if they were twin sisters. Kazuto didn’t look his age due to his years in Sword Art Online, his body permanently stunted by his inability to move for so long. But he was really wondering if he truly looked that similar to Suguha because of it. He recalled that as he was young, they were confused for twin girls all the time, but they were younger then… It made sense right? Kazuto stole an old skirt from Suguha’s closet one day as she was out practicing kendo. She hadn’t worn it in years, he figured she wouldn’t notice if it were gone… He slipped it on and stared himself in the mirror that spanned the back of his bedroom door. Despite the clear difference in their “endowment” Kazuto had seen as bright as day the connection. Even if his chest wasn’t voluptuous, even if his hips weren’t as pronounced, he saw the obvious connections between him and his sister. His face was soft and round like hers. And in the center of it all, he saw it again, his dead eyes replaced with the loving purple gaze he’d seen back in Gun Gale. He threw off the skirt in a fit of anger at himself. He stashed it beneath his bed, he didn’t wanna look at it. But… his heart longed for something regardless.

Today, as Kirito logged out of Alfheim Online, he converted his account over to Gun Gale Online once more. He needed to spend more time there… He needed to see himself again.

…

BANG!

A single clean shot had decimated two of the party members.

“I’ve gotten good with this thing… heh.” The shadowy figure smiled to themselves as they lined up another shot. “Maybe now I can give her that duel I promised…”

BANG!

“Hey Sinon, come here often?” A playful taunt escaped their lips.

“Oh you just miss seeing me with a sword in my hands dontcha?” Sinon blushed and angrily pouted, another adorable sight. “Well, my lovely partner here in GGO taught me so much, I figured I’d honor her by using the same weapon as I practiced. I need to give ya a good duel sometime after all.~”

As he grew closer to each of his friends, the one-sided teasing evolved into a playful banter between them, learning how to push each and every one of their buttons.

“So that’s why you left ALO huh? Trying to get a headstart on training for our next B.O.B. huh?”

“I’d hope so, it’d be such a shame if my Star-Crossed Soldier was training without me~” She playfully pouted at Kirito.

“Jeez, don’t let Asu hear you callin’ me that, otherwise I won’t be the only one getting pierced by her rapier.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not lookin’ to get inbetween ya- in that way at least~” The look she gave Kirito with that comment seemed to literally take health off the poor player.

“Anyways, why’re you here if not to train to win over me?”

“...” Kirito shifted his look away from her, and with that motion he accidentally revealed the accessories adorning his hair. Sinon snickered.

“Ah, I see you’re just here to play dress up huh?” Her eyes wandered and looked over the rest of the boy. He still had his trademark carbon fiber cloak, but now his outfit beneath was…

“Kirito… is that my outfit in black and silver?”

The noirette blushed a vibrant crimson, and smiled.

Shino grabbed the hands of the shadow before her and looked into it’s eyes.

“I think I know who you mean.” She smiled with pride as they drew closer. “What’s your name? Who is my partner in this world?”

“In this world… And all others… My name is Kiriko.”

With those words, Sinon saw Kiriko revert back to how she saw her initially. Another girl, just like her.

…

“I suppose that is the last of them huh?”

“Suppose so.”

The two stood against the other, scratched, bruised, covered in virtual blood of both their own, and of others. And now with all cameras on them.

“You ready to give the girls at home a show Kiriko?”

They smiled devilishly at each other.

“Always.”

…

“I’m glad you got Asu’s approval before all that, I know that Liz’ll still tear both of us apart though” Sinon snicked, imagining the pink leprechaun’s stunned face watching their dance.

“Hehe, yeahhhhh. Just because me and Asuna are poly doesn’t mean the jealousy’ll ever just up and leave. Liz is probably upset that I managed to steal both Asuna and you for myself.”

“Oh I think she’ll be more jealous of me, after all, I was the first one with the new girl in the group.” She laughed at the thought, knowing all of the girls’ not-so-subtle-crushes.

“Oh yeah, speaking of, I guess tonight they all get to meet Kiriko at the party in ALO huh?”

“As long as you’re not nervous, and I’ll be there supporting you always.”

“With you by my side, I’ll always be ready. Let’s hop over and meet them.”

An evil grin reached Shino’s lips.

“Welllllll you and I both need to transfer our accounts back over, so you should set that up real quick.”

“Right, right of course. Better not keep them waiting-”

“Alright we should be good in around twenty minu- HUH!”

Kiriko’s face was lit ablaze by the sight of the scantily clad girl infront of her.

“Hehehe, whatcha waitin for? I know we got the cash prize, but it’s time for our real~ reward now.”

She unbuckled the back of her bra and let the garment slip down, exposing her modest, but perky chest with a light bounce.

“We won’t keep them waiting long- but I already told Asuna- I get first dibs tonight- which means I get first ever dibs on Kiriko~”

She pounced on Kiriko, pinning her to the bed.

They showed up in Alfheim, an hour later than everyone expected.

…

Sinon entered the main living space of the home their party had shared. Luckily everyone was enjoying themselves already, but she still stammered out an apology for being so late.

“Jeez, is Kirito not coming?” Liz said in a huff. “I suppose he just doesn’t wanna show after that little stunt you two pulled.”

Sinon blushed heavily, knowing that stunt was far from the worst thing they’d done. Asuna crept behind Sinon and pulled her in, kissing her on the cheek.

“Hehe, just borrowing her~ she’s yours again tonight”

The party went silent

“HER?!”

Before anyone had the chance to say anything, Asuna, Yui and Strea all embraced the girl.

“Yayyyyy I get two mommies now!” Yui cheered

“Ah well that explains the armor choices…” Leafa sputtered out.

“We leave Sinon alone with Kiriko for a week and she comes back a girl… Yeah that tracks actually.” Liz was practically beaming.

Silica and Argo were hovering around the new cait sith in their presence.

“So was I the only one who knew Kii-gal was a girl?”

“Maybe! But now I get an adoptive big sister!”

“Hey! Kiriko’s my actual big sister!”

“We can share!”

The crowd started talking inbetween themselves, talking about all the fun things they can do now that Kiriko’s a girl, and Asuna took this as an opportunity to pull her to the side.

“So this was what you were worried about earlier huh?”

“I was worried that you’d leave when you found out what I’d been going through… I’m glad I can still be yours.”

“Heh- about that… If you wanna head over, you’ll have to ask Shino if she’s okay with you staying…”

“Sh-Shino? Are you diving from her apartment?”

“Hahaha, well, she did call first dibs…”

#sao #sword art online #sao fanfic #sword art online fic #trans kirito #trans headcanon #fanfic #fanfiction

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