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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year

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Set Your Heart Ablaze

Mitsuri Kanroji x She/Her Reader

A/N: This draft is from February of 2022 so it’s over a year old. I wasn’t happy with it at all at the time, but I decided to look over it again recently and tweaked some things and it wasn’t as bad as I thought at the time. I think the moral of this is to step away from your writing for awhile if you think it’s not coming out the way that you want and revisit it with fresh eyes. Whenever that may be. Thanks for reading and I hope you like it! Word Count: 7,334

(Y/n) ran through the forest, tears streaming down her face and her blade drawn. She roared, screaming at the pink haired demon as he ran away from the sunrise.

“Coward!”

(Y/n) could hear Tanjirou’s cries from the forest’s entrance as the demon flung the boy’s sword into the bushes and continued to leap away. The anguish in (Y/n)’s heart had her seeing red as she unleashed technique after technique at the demon, trying to close the ever-growing gap. Her lungs burned and her broken ribs stabbed into her like shattered glass, yet she continued her pursuit.

“Face me, you monster! It is plenty dark enough for you under these dense trees! Fucking fight me!” (Y/n) raged.

Akaza clicked his tongue, not even sparring the girl a glance as he rocketed off. Maybe he would have liked to see if the Flame Hashira’s Tsuguko was worthy of the position, but he had no desire to kill any women and today was no different.

“Damn you!” (Y/n) tried to boost her speed, but with all the injuries she had sustained that night, something in her leg popped and she tumbled head over heels into the ground. Determined, she got back to her feet as soon as she could and scanned the trees.

“No!” (Y/n) screamed. The demon was gone. She punched the nearest tree until her knuckles bled. “Damn you! Damn you! Damn you…” (Y/n) slid back to the ground as sobs wracked through her body.

She had failed.

Her Master was dying and she had let his killer escape. What an utterly useless Tsuguko! She didn’t deserve the title. All that training and she couldn’t even scratch that demon! Disgraceful!

(Y/n) didn’t allow herself to sit there for long. She didn’t deserve it, but she needed to see her Master and apologize for being so weak. She needed to tell him she was going to work harder! She would avenge him one day even if it killed her.

(Y/n) grit her teeth and ran out of the forest, avoiding the sorrowful eyes of the other slayers as she moved to be near her Master.

“(Y/n), there you are.” Kyoujirou’s eyes softened with a slightly glazed over look, “come, sit.”

“I— I’m sorry Master, he got away.” (Y/n) hiccuped, collapsing hard on her knees, she bowed as low to the ground as she could, gravel imbedding itself into her forehead with how hard she pressed. “I failed you, but I swear I’ll kill him if it’s the last thing I do!” (Y/n)’s breathing hitched when a gentle weight appeared on her shoulder.

“Hold your head up high, (Y/n).” Kyoujirou commanded, though his voice had lost its normally booming quality, the underlying power somehow remained. (Y/n) sat up and did as her Master commanded, though tears still flowed unbidden from her eyes.

“Look at how far you’ve come already and with still so much room to grow. My only regret as your teacher is that I won’t be there to help you refine those skills. Which is why there is something I want you to do for me.”

“Anything, Master! You need only say it!” (Y/n) exclaimed.

“Continue your Tsuguko training under the Love Hashira, Kanroji Mitsuri. You may have heard she used to be my student before climbing the ranks herself. She can teach you all that I couldn’t.”

“I… I’ll ask her. I promise, I’ll work hard! I won’t let you down!” (Y/n) didn’t want to burden another Hashira after failing one so fatally, but this was Rengoku’s last mission for her and she would carry it out for him.

Rengoku chuckled weakly, a warm smile upon his face. These young slayers were sure to go far. They did extraordinary work last night, fighting with all the fire and might they possessed to their very bones. His bleary eyes seemed to be drawn to something over (Y/n)’s shoulder, his smile grew and with one last peaceful exhale, he was gone.

***

(Y/n) put it off for as long as she could, but now that Shinobu had given her a clean bill of health, she could hide no more. Now there she stood in front of the Love Hashira’s home.

With her lips pursed tightly and a light coating of sweat dewing her face and hands, she finally forced herself to knock upon the door. The thudding of her fist against the wood sped her heart with each hit. Every part of her body was screaming at her to turn tail and run before she could be seen, but with her Master’s final wishes for her in mind, she stood rigidly in place.

Her panic was steadily growing inside of her as the sound of footsteps could be heard approaching from inside. She quickly dried her hands on her pants and though she knew someone was coming to open the door, she still jumped when it slid open and bowed with such force she almost bent completely in half.

“G-good morning!” She fumbled over her words, voice pitching as if it hadn’t expected to be called upon. “I’m here to speak with Kanroji Mitsuri-sama of important matters! Is she perhaps available today?”

(Y/n) dared not look up. She could feel how her face burned and felt the tell tale signs of those annoying tears of embarrassment and nervousness picking at her eyes. When whoever answered the door turned to guide her or send her away, then she would have an opening to sneak a sleeve over her eyes, but not a moment before.

“Ah, yes, I’m available right now. You can come in.”

(Y/n) blinked, her eyes traveled to the stocking feet standing in the doorway. Unbidden, her gaze moved slowly upward until concerned pastel green eyes connected with hers.

Then she snapped.

“Apologies, Kanroji-sama!” (Y/n) threw herself completely against the ground, the sound of her forehead hitting the gravel drowning out the surprised squeak that left Mitsuri’s lips.

“I did not realize—! Please forgive my rudeness!”

“I really don’t think you were being rude at all?” Mitsuri tilted her head to the left thoughtfully. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“Not at all! But if you think it would be a fitting punishment—“

“No!” Mitsuri frantically waved her hands down at the still face planted slayer, “No! That’s really not necessary! Please, raise your head and come inside!”

“Thank you, Kanroji-sama. You are far kinder than I deserve.” (Y/n) rose to her feet, a bit clumsily, and rubbed her eyes as if she had gotten dirt in them before finally meeting Mitsuri’s eye again.

“I, I don’t know about that, but let’s get you inside and have a nice cup of tea. You seem stressed.”

Oh, she didn’t even know the half of it.

(Y/n) thanked her profusely and followed her inside.

Immediately, an array of pleasant aromas met her nose when she took off her footwear and entered the Love Hashira’s home. For such a large building, it somehow still felt cozy.

Mitsuri led her to a room with an open door leading out to an orchard. In the middle of the room there was a large, low laying table piled with snacks and a cute tea pot.

“Here, take a seat and I’ll be right back with a cup for you.”

Before (Y/n) could dissuade her, Mitsuri jogged out of the room and returned a short time later with another cup and dish in hand. She set the items in front of where (Y/n) knelt and poured her a cup of tea before kneeling opposite of her across the table. She poured a cup for herself, took a sip, and hummed happily.

“Help yourself. We can talk after you calm down a bit, okay?”

(Y/n) opened her mouth to disagree, but shut it quickly when Mitsuri titled her head and gestured to the food. She ducked her head down and sipped her tea, mulling over the best way to tell the Love Hashira her intentions for the hundredth time that day.

The meal wasn’t completely silent. Mitsuri asked (Y/n) where she grew up, what food she liked best, light questions that were easily answered and slowly but surely put (Y/n) at ease when Mitsuri would share her own answers in turn.

(Y/n) helped Mitsuri clean up and they returned to the room together. Mitsuri took her seat across from (Y/n) and gave her a small smile.

“Feeling a little better?”

(Y/n) nodded, shyly looking down at her lap.

“I’m glad. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

(Y/n) took a deep breath, “My name is (L/n) (Y/n), I was the late Flame Hashira’s Tsuguko.”

“I know.”

(Y/n) looked up from her lap to see the sad smile and watery shine in Mitsuri’s eyes.

“Rengoku-san, talked about your progress with me on occasion.” She explained. “He really enjoyed working with you.”

Oh gods, keep it together (Y/n). No more crying, we promised we were done crying!

“I’m honored. He was, I really, really liked training under him.” She swallowed thickly.

“He was a very good teacher, wasn’t he?” Mitsuri noticed how (Y/n) shook like a cold kitten in the rain and scooted around the table to offer some comfort, pulling (Y/n)’s head into her shoulder.

“Uh huh,” (Y/n)’s throat felt so tight it held a deep burn, like there was a hot, heavy ball tangled in her vocal chords. The way Mitsuri held her and talked to her about the fallen Flame Hashira, she could tell she was hurting just as much. Two students grieving over the loss of their beloved teacher, friend, and older brother figure.

They took a few minutes to collect themselves and (Y/n) forced herself to back out of Mitsuri’s embrace to put some space between them and face her fully.

“Rengoku-sama’s last order for me was to ask you to train me in his stead.” She bowed on her forearms and knees once more, continuing on before Mitsuri could fully process the weight of her words.

“I know that I am the last person that anyone would want after I failed to protect him. I only ask because it was my Master’s last wish of me. I do not expect you to accept so please don’t feel obligated in any way, Kanroji-sama.”

A hand came to rest on (Y/n)’s back that exuded a warmth so radiant that she couldn’t help but compare it to the heavy warmth of her Master’s hand when he used to praise her for a job well done. Tentatively, she rose her head to meet Mitsuri’s eye, finding fresh tears had sprung from the Love Hashira’s eyes.

Mitsuri rubbed (Y/n)’s back, urging her to sit up so she could take both of her battle-worn hands into her own and gave her a watery smile.

“(L/n)-san, I will take you on as my Tsuguko on one condition.”

“Yes?” She prompted timidly.

“You mustn’t keep blaming yourself for Rengoku-san’s death. It hurts my heart to hear you talk down on yourself for something that was not your fault.”

“But I—“

“Not. Your. Fault.” Mitsuri spoke with great sincerity, hitting her thighs with their connected hands to emphasize each word. “Rengoku-san would be very sad to know you feel this way. Do not make him have to worry about you in the afterlife.”

(Y/n) bowed her head. Mitsuri squeezed her hands.

“You say it now, it wasn’t my fault.”

“It wasn’t… my fault.”

“Again. Try to sound like you believe it because you should.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“The fault lies with the demon who took his life, not me. Say it.”

“The fault lies with the demon who took his life, not me.” (Y/n) finished shakily.

Mitsuri pulled her back into her arms and rocked her side to side.

“That’s a good start. Rengoku-san chose to entrust you to me. So I will do my best to teach you everything I know in his stead. We will both work hard and make him proud, won’t we?”

“Yes!” (Y/n) sobbed into Mitsuri’s shoulder, clinging tighter.

***

(Y/n) awoke at the crack of dawn in the guest room Mitsuri had so kindly provided her with and went out the stretch and go through her morning training regimen before Mitsuri would make her appearance. She felt the need to prove herself to her Master’s old pupil so she needed to be on the top of her game to impress. She began pushing herself harder. Though she had been healed, the Insect Hashira would surely discourage going so hard so soon after being discharged.

“I’m going to get stronger, Master. I will kill that demon!”

Meanwhile, Mitsuri hadn’t slept at all. She had been working frantically all night wracking her brain for a lesson plan. She was hardly a teacher unless her western cooking lessons with Shinobu counted, but even then Shinobu had a hard time understanding her sometimes. It was so embarrassing! Worst yet, though her Love Breathing had been created through what she learned from Flame Breathing, she didn’t quite remember the techniques without the twists she gave them.

“I’m so sorry, Rengoku-san!” Mitsuri wiped the sweat from her forehead as she scribbled out another idea. “I don’t think I know how to teach her at all!”

Regardless, she had to get out there sooner or later. (Y/n) was waiting for her. She wouldn’t make a good impression if she was late. What if (Y/n) changed her mind and didn’t want Mitsuri to teach her? Mitsuri couldn’t think of a more devastating blow to her confidence as a Hashira.

She sucked it up and headed outside. She would just have to be candid with (Y/n) about her inexperience with teaching and her foggy memory. Surely (Y/n)’s training was fresh in her mind. Perhaps if they discussed it, it would jog her memory.

Mitsuri exited her home and froze mid step when she found (Y/n) laying face down in the grass.

“(L/n)-san?!” She quickly regained use of her legs and hopped off of the engawa to kneel at her side and pull (Y/n) to lay on her back. “What happened? You shouldn’t push yourself so hard! Shinobu-chan only discharged you a day ago. Did you hurt yourself?” She fretted.

“I’m okay. I guess my ankle still isn’t agreeing with me.” (Y/n) made a pained grunt when Mitsuri gently squeezed her injured ankle.

“That doesn’t feel right. Urara!” She called out to the sky.

Moments later a Kasugai crow with a little clover crown made an uneasy descent, waiting for Mitsuri’s order.

“Could you ask Shinobu-chan to have someone come over to check (L/n)-san’s ankle? Thank you!”

The bird flew off in a flurry of feathers and Mitsuri positioned her arms beneath (Y/n)’s back and knees, giggling at the surprised face (Y/n) made when she was suddenly hoisted off of the ground.

“Let’s get that foot elevated for the time being.”

“What about training?” (Y/n) didn’t want to be down and out already. She hadn’t even technically started yet and Mitsuri was carrying her inside. How humiliating!

Mitsuri set her down in the training room she had initially exited from and propped up (Y/n)’s ankle with a rolled up towel.

Within the hour Shinobu herself came to personally scold (Y/n) for her recklessness in the sweetest voice possible and then turned her attention to Mitsuri to dig into her a bit.

“She’s your Tsuguko now, Kanroji-san, don’t let her act so foolishly in the future.” She teased, though her eyes held a seriousness that Mitsuri did not miss.

“Sorry, Shinobu-chan.”

Shinobu fixed (Y/n) up, ordered her a week of non strenuous training and took her leave.

“I’m sorry, Master. I’ve burdened you.” (Y/n) frowned.

“No!” Mitsuri squeaked and waved her hands erratically. Her skin flushed bright pink. To be called someone’s master made it too real! “No, no, you haven’t burdened me at all! In fact, this is kind of a good thing!”

“It is?” (Y/n) cocked her head to the side inquisitively.

“Yeah! Not that you hurt yourself of course, but this will give us some time to talk and figure out where you are in the training. I have to admit, I’m out of practice with the discipline and finer details of Flame Breathing, but maybe you could help remind me?”

“Of course, Master!” (Y/n) nodded, flames blazing in her eyes.

“A-and another thing!” Mitsuri’s blush bloomed a darker shade of red, “Please just call me Kanroji! Master feels too heavy!”

“As you wish, Kanroji-sama!”

Mitsuri laughed at (Y/n)’s eagerness and volume. It reminded her so much of Kyoujirou. He seemed to have an affect on his disciples where his own excitement and booming voice would be mirrored back at him with vigor. Mitsuri only hoped she could be such an impactful teacher.

***

They spent that first week while (Y/n) was laid up going over the training she had endured under Kyoujirou’s guidance. Sometimes, that would prompt an old memory of Mitsuri’s and she would share her own experiences.

Sometimes they would laugh, sometimes they would cry, but their talks always left a sense of comfort and understanding. They had both known Kyoujirou well and being able to share those stories when they were missing the man brought them closer together.

When (Y/n) had re-healed after her tumble, they began increasing the effort on her training. It wasn’t always smooth sailing, but they would eventually work it out together.

“You have to, you know, when you feel a stretch just before it pops you go bwoosh! You know?”

“Um, could you try showing me that, Kanroji-sama?”

“Sure!”

In Mitsuri’s defense, Kyoujirou was also guilty of explaining things poorly from time to time. He often used to tell (Y/n) to just feel it, whatever it was. (Y/n) learned to be a bit of a visual learner if she hadn’t been one already, she had grown more conscious of it over time.

Mitsuri also added her own touches to the regimen, showing (Y/n) the importance of flexibility in combination with one’s strength and internal rhythm. She was almost appalled by (Y/n)’s lack of flexibility, though she would certainly never tell her that. She did however make sure to add flexibility to the daily training regimen that made the usual stretches feel like nothing in comparison to the deep stretches she put (Y/n) through.

She also added dance lessons into their routine to wind down at the end of hard days. It was fun to teach (Y/n) different step combinations and have her cling to her as she tried to keep up with her ever changing footing. She never seemed to quite get the timing right, but Mitsuri found that adorable.

Of course they couldn’t stay home to train all of the time. At the start of their third week together, Mitsuri received a mission to the south and it would be her first time being accompanied by a pupil. Granted, (Y/n) was nearly the same age as her and had been on several missions already, but Mitsuri couldn’t help but worry for her safety.

“Stay close, alright?” She had made (Y/n) promise several times along the way.

Other slayers might have been offended or even angry at such a babying display, but (Y/n)’s heart fluttered in her chest knowing that Mitsuri cared so much about her wellbeing.

Fortunately, there was no need to worry. They killed the troubling demons that had causing the disturbances without a hitch.

“Did you see that, Kanroji-sama?” (Y/n) asked, eyes alight with an excitement that made Mitsuri’s heart race, “I used that step just like you showed me! The stretch wasn’t even that bad!”

“I saw! You did so well! Let’s go to this twenty-four hour noodle shop I know to celebrate, okay?”

“Okay!”

They cleaned out that udon stand in record time.

***

Weeks became months and soon half of a year had passed them by.

Presently, they were laying out under the shade of a tree after collecting honey all day. Mitsuri watched as (Y/n) continuously flexed her fist, watching her rank bubble up and fade several times. Kinoe.

As of last night, (Y/n) had slayed her forty-ninth demon. One more, and she would be considered for a position as a Hashira.

Mitsuri tapped on (Y/n)’s hand, startling her, “What are you thinking about?”

“I guess I’m just thinking about how close I am to being considered for a Hashira position. It’s kind of overwhelming.”

“It is kind of scary at first. I actually got lost on my first day,” Mitsuri smiled and squeezed (Y/n)’s hand, “I’ll help you get around though, so don’t worry!”

“Thank you, Kanroji-sama.” (Y/n) gave a small smile of her own, “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“Hm? Without me?” Mitsuri blinked, then realization dawned on her.

When (Y/n) would become a Hashira, she would no longer be Mitsuri’s student. That would cut down the time they spent together drastically! She would live somewhere else in charge of a different sector. No more training together, missions, meals, sleeping a bedroom away, tending to the bees together, dancing together… Mitsuri’s heart hurt.

What was she supposed to do without (Y/n)?

“W-well, it’s not like we won’t see each other again! We can keep in touch and do things together in our free time!” Mitsuri felt anxious. She knew the day would eventually come, but it had snuck up on her somehow. (Y/n) was a superb slayer, it really shouldn’t have surprised her that she was nearly ready for the next rung in the ladder.

“Really?” (Y/n) felt relieved by Mitsuri’s suggestion. She didn’t want to be separated from her any more than Mitsuri did.

“Of course!” Mitsuri nodded vigorously. “We are friends after all.”

“Kanroji-sama!” (Y/n) sniffled and threw her arms around Mitsuri, loathe to let go lest the Hashira see the tears that slid down her cheeks. They were mostly happy tears, but that hardly mattered to (Y/n). Any time her eyes would water without her permission felt a little embarrassing.

Mitsuri wrapped her arms behind (Y/n)’s back in return, holding on a bit tighter than usual knowing that her constant companion over the past six months would be off on her own before long. They both would be.

***

The day was finally upon them and neither Mitsuri nor (Y/n) was nearly as excited as one would expect. They tried to have a normal morning together, the last they would have under the same roof. Despite the enormity of the event happening that day, neither broached the subject. Both preferring to talk about literally anything else. Though they both definitely knew what was on the agenda that afternoon and it was visible in their actions.

(Y/n) had carved Mitsuri a bunch of little wooden statues over their months together and presented them to her in a neatly packed box. Each representing a little memory. Mitsuri went all out on breakfast, a conglomeration of all of (Y/n)’s favorite foods. Instead of sitting across from each other they sat as if joined by the hip. It was when an unexpected guest came by that the girls were forced to face the reality of the day at hand.

“Senjuro-kun? Hello, hello! What brings you by today?” Mitsuri asked, ushering the young boy inside.

“Hello, Senjuro-kun!” (Y/n) greeted from the kitchen doorway while she finished drying the last dish.

“Hello,” Senjuro smiled shyly, adjusting the bundle in his arms. “I’m here to give (Y/n)-san something, actually.”

“Oh, for me?” (Y/n) blinked. She put away the last dish and came out into the hall.

“I think it will be best if we all sit down for this.” Senjuro suggested and Mitsuri lead the way to a private room for whatever transaction was about to occur.

“What is it, Senjuro-kun?” (Y/n) asked once they were all situated.

“I heard you were becoming a Hashira today. Congratulations, (Y/n)-san.”

“Thank you. I will do all I can to live up to the title. I promise.” (Y/n) still felt inadequate for the title of Flame Hashira and she felt that the title would never truly belong to her, but she was determined to honor her late Master’s position.

“I know you will, Aniki always thought you had lots of potential.” Senjuro held the bundle closer to his chest. “That is why, I believe this belongs to you now.”

As soon as he held the white fabric out to (Y/n), the girls gasped softly as the red and orange tatters previously pressed into Senjuro’s chest came into view.

“Senjuro-kun,”

“I know,” he interrupted, “but he would want you to have it. I do to. You are keeping the Flame Hashira line afloat, so you need the cloak to match.”

(Y/n) swallowed thickly. She would not deny the boy again. If he wanted her to adorn the near sacred garment in his brother’s stead, then she would do it. Just a little more weight to carry. She would bear it.

She took the cloak gently from Senjuro’s arms and bowed her head.

“Thank you, I will do everything I can to be worthy of this.”

Senjuro nodded, trying to keep it together, but when (Y/n) and Mitsuri descended upon him with hugs and understanding tears in their own eyes, he let his own fall.

***

“Stay close, I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.” Mitsuri assured as they walked through the lengthy estate of the Master, out to the garden many Hashira meetings took place in when the weather was fair.

“Thank you, Kanroji-sama. I’m so nervous.” (Y/n) managed a half smile. The weight and scent of the cloak draping her shoulders was near anxiety inducing, not comforting in the least, but with Mitsuri by her side, she felt a tiny bit at ease.

“You’ll be just fine, I promise.” Mitsuri threaded her arm through (Y/n)’s and rubbed her bicep comfortingly.

Even when they came upon the passage that would lead them out into the garden, they did not part and entered together to find a majority of the Hashira already present.

“Kanroji-san, (L/n)-san, good to see you.” Shinobu smiled.

“Good to see you too, Kochou-sama.” (Y/n) greeted with a bow.

“Kochou-san will be fine please. You are joining our rank after all. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Ah, right, thank you, Kochou-san.”

“Me too!” Mitsuri jumped in, sweating slightly. She should have been the first to tell (Y/n) that, but she hadn’t even thought of it! She had to one-up Shinobu somehow. “Just call me Mitsuri!”

(Y/n)’s face exploded with warmth. To refer to Mitsuri so casually… she would surely combust!

“If that’s, are you sure, uh, Mmitsu, um, maybe, Kanroji…san?”

Shinobu giggled behind one hand, the other reached out to give Mitsuri a handkerchief, the poor girl was blushing bright red and noticeably sweating. (Y/n) was hardly fairing any better.

“You may still refer to me as Uzui-sama, new blood!” Tengen grinned, bringing attention to the fact that they certainly weren’t the only people there.

“Don’t refer to me ever.” Obanai said snippily under his breath, earning an amused scoff from Sanemi. Neither believed the woman would be able to fill the shoes, or the cloak rather, that had been left behind for her. Of course one of them was more upset about how the new Flame Hashira was still joined to the Love Hashira’s hip.

“I’m glad to see another Hashira be born from the ashes in these dire times. I wish you luck in battle, Flame Hashira. I trust you will go far.” Gyomei spoke with great conviction, tears rolling down his chiseled cheeks.

(Y/n) bowed to the man, thanking him with strong gratitude audible in her tone.

If Muichiro had anything to say, he kept it to himself and Giyuu slid in through the back of the garden and stayed in his designated corner barely sparring (Y/n) a glance.

All fell to a knee when the Master was set to appear and the deeply treasured man walked out to greet his children and formerly bestow (Y/n) with her title and assignment area.

This was when Mitsuri felt the most nervous. Kyoujirou’s general assignment area had been in then heart of Tokyo, but that didn’t necessarily mean (Y/n) would get the same. Tokyo would be so nice though. Lots of roads and trains led to Tokyo. They could easily visit from time to time. Please be Tokyo, please be Tokyo!

“Your assignment shall be in Hokkaido. Guard it well, Flame Hashira.” The Master smiled warmly.

“As you wish, Master. I will give my all.” (Y/n) bowed resolutely.

Meanwhile, Mitsuri, who had been leaning so far forward to hear, suddenly fell into the pebbles, earning her a handful of inquisitive stares.

Hokkaido prefecture?! That couldn’t be further away! She’d need several train lines and a boat to get there!

“I’ve heard troubling things about demons trying to traverse the bottom of the ocean to other countries. It may not be as glamorous or densely populated as Tokyo, but it is an important job none the less.”

“Of course, Master. I won’t let you down.”

“You will do great things, (Y/n). Kyoujirou would be proud to see you now. Mitsuri is as well I’m sure.”

“Yes,” Mitsuri sniffled, “so proud.” and heartachingly disappointed.

“Let’s move on to the next agenda then, my children.”

***

“Kanroji-san? Are you waiting for (L/n)-san?” Shinobu asked when she found Mitsuri waiting outside of the garden after dropping of the Master’s medicine with Amane.

“Yeah…” Mitsuri toed her shoe in the dirt. “I was hoping to see her off. I know it’ll take a little time to get details from the Master, but I don’t mind waiting a bit.”

“Hmm, didn’t you take any time to say your goodbyes this morning?”

Mitsuri looked down and worried the sleeve of her haori between her fingers.

“Ahh, I was afraid something like this would happen.” Shinobu tisked wisely.

“What?” Mitsuri’s brow furrowed.

“You grew too attached.” Shinobu replied, a teasing grin growing across her face. “In fact, I dare say you are smitten! And with a student no less, how scandalous, Kanroji-san.”

“We’re only a year or two apart!” Mitsuri blushed and flapped her arms around, “And she isn’t my student anymore so it’s not weird! Is it?!”

“I’m not judging you, but I am worried about you. Hokkaido is rather far away.”

“I know… I don’t know what to do.” Mitsuri sighed sullenly.

“I think you should tell her how you feel. Don’t live with any regrets. That is my advice to you.”

“Thanks Shinobu-chan. I will think about it.”

“See to it that you do. I better get home, good luck.”

Mitsuri wrapped Shinobu in a tight hug and then the Insect Hashira went on her way, leaving Mitsuri feeling more confident about what she had to do.

When (Y/n) emerged from the Master’s estate, her face lit up when she saw Mitsuri waiting for her and she moved quickly to stand beside her.

“Kanroji-sama! Er, Mitsu… erm— Kanroji-san! You waited for me!”

“I wanted to see you off personally. Also… there was something I wanted to tell you.”

“Of course, you can tell me anything.”

The kind expression on (Y/n)’s face made Mitsuri’s heart flutter. She took (Y/n) by the hand and eagerly pulled her along. The Master’s estate was full of natural beauty, a perfect place for a heartfelt confession. She led the newly appointed Flame Hashira into the wisteria blooms that surrounded the property. Silently she thanked the moon and stars for illuminating the petals in a soft glow and the warm contrast of the fireflies navigating between the trees.

“It’s beautiful here.” (Y/n) commented. “It suits you.”

“Really?” Mitsuri squeaked.

Though she was embarrassed, (Y/n) did not attempt to explain away her words. She really did think Mitsuri looked especially beautiful in this scenery and she was of the opinion that no one told Mitsuri that she was beautiful nearly enough so she stood firm.

“Definitely!” She yelled a little too loud, looking up at the sky to avoid meeting Mitsuri’s gaze directly. She stiffened when Mitsuri’s hand curled around her bicep near her elbow.

“Thank you. It suits you too.” Mitsuri bit her lip, “That’s why I wanted to tell you here.”

Mitsuri’s hand slid down to (Y/n)’s own, her other hand moved to clasp (Y/n)’s between hers. She took a couple deep breaths, feeling dizzy from the warmth in her cheeks and chest, then she… didn’t tell her.

She couldn’t tell her. For whatever reason, the words would not come out.

“Yes? What is it, Kanroji-san?” The innocent, patient look (Y/n) wore proved too much for Mitsuri to handle somehow and the poor girl lost her nerve completely.

“I’ll miss having you around, good luck out there.” She looked away, missing the disappointed look that flashed over (Y/n)’s face.

“I’ll miss you too. A lot.” (Y/n) forced a chuckle. “Um, listen, is it alright to write to you from time to time?”

“Yes, that would make me very happy.” Mitsuri’s voice held all of the scenerity of the feelings she had truly wanted to convey. “I’ll write you too, of course. You can tell me all about Hokkaido and all your adventures.”

“I will.”

There was a pregnant pause before a stifled sob escaped (Y/n)’s lips. She cut it off abruptly with her free hand.

“Sorry! I told myself I wouldn’t cry. I’m a Hashira now, damn it.”

“It’s okay to cry, everybody has to some times.” Mitsuri was also failing to fight back tears of her own, her heart was screaming at her to speak her mind, but her tongue felt like lead.

(Y/n) face planted forcefully into Mitsuri’s neck and Mitsuri swiftly wrapped her up in her arms. Their tears soaked each other’s clothes while the words they truly wished to share went unspoken.

***

Mitsuri pushed the latest letter from (Y/n) into her face. Maybe it was silly, but she thought she could smell (Y/n)’s scent lingering upon the parchment. So she always smelled the letter first before reading.

At this point they hadn’t seen each other in fourteen months but they made sure to write each other every other week. Their crows were surely annoyed by the long trips, but being the people pleasers that they were, they hardly complained. Especially when the birds had always enjoyed each other’s company as well.

She wanted to take her time reading, pouring over every word. She pressed the paper to her lips before holding it to her chest.

Things had been going well in Hokkaido as previous letters would suggest. The Master’s worries about demons crossing the sea had dissipated to near nothing with the first month of (Y/n)’s introduction to the prefecture the Flame Hashira had taken to training some of the slayers stationed there to hone their skills into something more fine tuned. Things had been quiet there lately, which made Mitsuri all the more glad. As long as (Y/n) was safe, she was happy. She couldn’t wait to read the new letter.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get very far before Urara hopped onto her desk in a tizzy to alert her of a new mission. She placed the letter with the others in the box of wood carvings (Y/n) had given her for safe keeping until later and grabbed her sword. She would have to put the letter on the back burner for now.

Mitsuri followed after Urara, running even faster when she saw a heavy smoke billowing up to the sky. The village on the outskirts of her patrol area was in flames, green flames.

She helped organize the villagers and their evacuation and looked around for the fire’s source. It seemed to jump from roof to roof despite the dead still air. There was definitely a demon art at play here.

A building collapsed and she heard a desperate cry for help within the wreckage along with a sinister cackle.

Mitsuri pushed through the opposite direction the villagers were running in, telling the lower ranked slayers that had shown up to help with the evacuation efforts while she forged ahead.

The demon was easy enough to find. He was still cackling and hooting as another home came crashing down, the fire curled around him as gentle as running water.

Within the collapsed rubble and wood was a young couple, the wife trying valiantly to free her husband from underneath a heavy beam despite the demon’s lazy, taunting approach. Mitsuri had seen enough.

She unfurled her sword and whipped it at the demon, aiming for his neck, but he blocked her with his arm, unconcerned with the loss of the limb as it quickly regrew.

He turned to face her, no longer as amused as he once was, and with a loud growl he threw his strange green flames in Mitsuri’s direction.

She rolled away from the blast and quickly countered, narrowly missing her target as he hopped backwards. The Demon released an exaggerated sigh.

“Can’t you see I’m busy with those folks there? I’m trying to have a nice, crispy meal and you’re ruining it!”

“You’re awful! As if I would stand aside and let you do such a thing!” Mitsuri whipped her sword hard enough to crack the ground where the demon’s feet had been mere seconds before.

Mitsuri had no time to behead the demon before the fire would encircle the trapped couple. She would have to subdue him for a time and then quickly get them out of there before returning to finish the job.

She had her opportunity when their battle led them between two homes with hardly any space between them. The demon ran to slip between them and out of Mitsuri’s line of sight, but the Hashira struck at a weakened support beam and both houses came tumbling down. Right on the demon’s head.

“That should keep you busy for awhile!” Mitsuri yelled as she ran. “See how much you like it!”

She traveled across the burning rubble of the house and grabbed the beam that pressed down on the man’s legs. With her strength, the beam rose easily and the woman was able to slip her husband out from under the new gap.

“Go! Go! Before the fire cuts the exit!” Mitsuri warned.

“Thank you!” The man coughed, stumbling through the wreckage with smoke stung eyes and his wife supporting his weight as they limped out together.

With a mighty grunt, Mitsuri threw the beam to the ground. Just as she turned to leave, a bright green inferno caught her eye, the demon had escaped the rubble and she was in trouble!

“I’ll roast you on a spit you damn nuisance!”

Mitsuri fumbled with her blade on her hip as the hot flames burst towards her, she wasn’t going to draw it in time! Her eyes pinched shut on reflex.

“Flame Breathing, Fourth Form: Blooming Flame Undulation!”

The sour heat of the green flames dissipated and a new, purer heat took its place.

“Are you okay, Kanroji-san?”

Mitsuri’s eyes shot open and her mouth fell open in both disbelief and elation. Before her stood (Y/n), looking bright and powerful. She surely grew into her position in her time away.

“What! What are you doing here, (Y/n)-chan?!”

(Y/n) took no offense because Mitsuri was clearly excited to see her. She laughed, redirecting her attention to the demon who’s eyes darted between the two Hashira with obvious discomfort.

“Didn’t you receive my letter?”

“I didn’t have time to read it!”

“Ah, well, I’m getting reassigned! I was just finishing up with Oyakata-sama before I was redirected here, and not a moment too soon!”

Mitsuri withdrew her blade, ready to fight, but still she wanted to talk.

“Reassigned? I thought you were doing well in Hokkaido?”

“Well enough that the Master doesn’t think a Hashira’s presence is needed there all of the time. The lower ranks can handle themselves now. I’m going back to Tokyo!”

“Are you two really catching up it front of me?” The demon squealed unpleasantly. Though he did not like his odds, his pride still got the better of him.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t. Your demon art is destructive, but you, yourself aren’t very strong. Just opportunistic. I haven’t seen Kanroji-san in over a year and I have a lot I’d like to tell her.” (Y/n) answered bluntly, making the demon more irate.

“The honor is all yours.” (Y/n) told Mitsuri with a smile as the demon charged senselessly towards them.

Mitsuri beamed at her in return and snapped her blade outward, slicing clean through the foolish demon’s neck. The excess momentum sent the head sailing passed the two Hashira and out of sight. The body began to crumble and the green flames sputtered out when it suddenly began to rain.

“So much destruction.” (Y/n) shook her head in disbelief. “We’re lucky the demon seemed so ‘young’ and inexperienced. Given any time to grow, he would have been a much greater threat— hey!” (Y/n) laughed when Mitsuri suddenly catapulted into her arms.

“I missed you so much!” Mitsuri wailed.

“I missed you too!” (Y/n) yelled twice as loud, happy tears rolling down her cheeks, mixing with the rain.

They spun around over the smoldering lumber as the cool rain poured over them. The first few spins turned into a dance and they soon became drenched, but still without a care in the world. They slowed and then came to a stop, both laughing breathlessly, their foreheads pressed together.

Without much thought, (Y/n) kissed Mitsuri’s forehead, only realizing her error when Mitsuri made a sound between a choked gasp and a delighted squee.

“Wah! I’m sorry!” (Y/n) groaned, pulling away to hide her face in her hands. “Ah! I had all this time to think of a proper confession and I already blew it! What is wrong with me?!”

Mitsuri pulled (Y/n)’s hands away from her face and they both looked at each other with matching surprised intensity. Neither dared even to blink.

Mitsuri’s mouth opened and closed several times before she shook her head and pulled (Y/n)’s hands behind her waist. The motion pulled the Flame Hashira nearly flush against Mitsuri and her hands were released for only a moment before Mitsuri’s arms encircled her neck and their lips met in a bruising kiss.

“I love you,” Mitsuri murmured shyly despite taking such a confident action. “I wanted to tell you that before you left, but I lost my nerve and I regretted not telling you every day since.”

“You too?” (Y/n) marveled. “I wanted to tell you back then too!”

“You really did?”

“Yeah!”

(Y/n) swept Mitsuri off of her feet and hugged her tight. Mitsuri was so ecstatic at the prospect of being carried she got all wiggly like an excited puppy. (Y/n) stumbled but held Mitsuri all the same and they exited the smoldering wreckage together.

The other slayers and freshly arrived Kakushi gave them strange looks, but followed their orders all the same. They worked to build temporary shelters for the small village and fix up the homes that were salvageable.

The rain stopped when the sun crept up upon the horizon. (Y/n) and Mitsuri helped put the finishing touches on the last shelter and left the rest in the hands of the locals. As they walked together, Mitsuri pulled on (Y/n)’s arm.

“You know, I don’t have to leave right away…” (Y/n) tested, “If you think it’s okay, I could head back with you, only if you want to.”

“Of course I want you to head back with me! I haven’t even touched your old room so it’s ready for you! But you could just stay in my room with me. We still have a lot to talk about after all!” Mitsuri stuttered and blushed, cupping her burning cheek with her free hand.

“You’re right! That would be more convenient, wouldn’t it?” (Y/n) agreed, mind whirring as she screamed on the inside.

It may take them some time yet to navigate the relationship they had been dreaming of, but at least they were on the right track now.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #mitsuri kanroji x reader #mitsuri x reader #mitsuri kanroji

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cyonara · 1 year

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The Witch From Mercury's novelization might be fruity

As some of you may have seen on other social media, an official novelization of gwitch was announced by Sunrise and it seems that the passages of it from the magazine it was revealed in has got people talking.

The specific passage making waves concerns when the two first meet in episode 1, after Suletta ruins Miorine's escape plan by saving her and bringing her into the cockpit. Even in the anime, Suletta looks a little starstruck in the moment that Miorine demands her to take responsibility for her plan ruining, but the novelization makes it a little more explicit.

I appreciate this person deeply for taking the time to translate the passage to English:

Considering that, especially with her affection for El4n, Suletta was always seen as the less immediately interested in the idea of the two in such a relationship, this is potentially quite an interesting twist! Suletta being a true bisexual queen would be peak, honestly.

Fair to say then that perhaps Suletta was actually a little attracted from the start, even if she didn't quite process that was a thing she could feel for a woman considering her more sheltered upbringing on Mercury?

I'm still not going to confidently assume the show ends with an explicit relationship between the two until it happens (that's just the best way to avoid getting hurt if media takes the cowards way out at the last second), but after Iron-Blooded Orphans ended with both an explicit mlm character and a wlw relationship being acknowledged, maybe I should try to trust Gundam on this one.

#mobile suit gundam #gwitch #gundam the witch from mercury #sulemio #suletta mercury #miorine rembran

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dollyyun · 1 month

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𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 | chap 12

SYPNOSIS: wherein Hwang Stella's life is tangled in a predicament involving her clandestine identity as a racer, her seemingly daily life as the official heir to the Hwang Empire, and seven guys with whom she has a complex history with.

PAIRING: enhypen members x fem oc.

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), reverse harem, chaebols, semi-college & racing, eventual adulthood, non-idol au, eventual enha being f1 drivers, multiple pov (this fic is written in first pov).

WARNINGS: abuse, violence, expletives, angst, heartbreaks, drama.

WORD COUNT: 10k+

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun

🍒 MASTERLIST 🍒

I haven't been in the right state of mind since last week's incident. With Jungwon leaving Seoul, some of the guys had ulterior motives towards me and Sunghoon. It fucked me up so badly that there were moments when I couldn't physically do anything and just unmoved from my bed.

Surprisingly, Minhyuk didn't demand my presence in the room where he punished me for my incompetence. Jihyun, on the other hand, had been relentlessly berating me for my mistakes and how the incident should be a lesson learned to me that I could only trust my family. It's fucking ironic, because I don't even trust the people with whom I share the same blood here in the first place.

Presently, I'm at my secret hideout, which is a garage that is equivalent to the size of the mansion's living room. As I rest on the mini couch with my head on the armrest and my arm draped over my eyes, I begin to collect my thoughts as I bask in the silence. I have been here since the first sunrise.

The Grand Prix will happen tonight, and I need to get my shit together if I want to prevail against my competitors. But my mind will always drift off to them.

The rational part of me understands why they did what they did, but the other part of me still reels from the heartbreak. To learn that they only began to become closer to me just to get me to lower my guard and cause distractions hurts me more than it should.

I mean, when I think about it, it is hypocritical of me to feel enraged and heartbroken when I am to blame as well. I willingly allowed myself to fall for their allure and for them to use me as they pleased. I'm at fault for being utterly weak and a fool for being desperate to get crumbs of their affections.

Tears start to sting in my eyes as I grit my teeth. Despite how much the truth hurts me and how badly I want to hate them, I can't. In the end, they were victims as well.

"Stella!" I hear Aera calling for me in such desperation from the outside. "Stella!"

I remain unmoving from my position as I had the door unlocked. Aera's footsteps rush towards me, prompting me to remove my arm away from my eyes before they stop at Aera, who is dressed in a racer fit with the exception of her high-waisted checkered skirt.

Earlier, I caved in and returned Aera's texts. She had been relentlessly trying to call me and get me to talk to her, but I refused. Eventually, she revealed that she didn't know anything.

I offer her a weak smile as I pat the empty space at my side, where she sits before embracing me in a hug. I sigh, hugging her tighter. At least I still have one last friend.

"Before you say anything, just know that I gave my brother an earful of reprimanding." Aera frowns after she pulls away from the hug. "I can't believe they would do this. I expected better from Heeseung."

"I'm not certain if I can blame them entirely." I chuckle dryly. "I've been thinking and collecting my thoughts. The guys, including your brother, are victims as well."

"But that doesn't justify the fact that they had ulterior motives towards you in the first place." Aera counters, scowling. "If they weren't cowards, they would've rebelled against those with power. Heck, even I rebelled, which resulted in me getting disowned just recently."

I look at her with my eyes widening. "What happened?"

"I confronted my parents about their schemes, and we were in such a heated argument that even Heeseung tried to intervene. They also disapproved of me being friends with you and forbade me from seeing you, but I wasn't about to let them control my life." Aera sighs. "Which then resulted in me getting disowned by my parents."

My eyes turn crestfallen. "I'm so sorry, Aera."

"Hey, it's fine. Don't feel bad." Aera grabs my hand, squeezing it lightly. She gives me a faint smile. "Plus, they haven't been the ideal parents to me since I was young. I was just there merely for decoration. Heeseung's the apple of their eyes."

I sigh and am about to speak, but Aera cuts me off. "Stella, listen," She places her hand on my shoulder as she looks at me with firm eyes. "Whatever happens, I'll always stick by your side. Wherever you go, I'll go too."

Tears well up in my eyes. "Really?"

"Truly." Aera smiles. "Us girls got to stick together."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The circuit where the Grand Prix is held is more massive than I expected. After Aera and I parted ways as she joined the other spectators, I'm with the other racers, loitering at the automat. I don't know why I feel disheartened when I don't see any sightings of familiar faces.

With the empty can in my grasp, I slowly crush it before averting my gaze from the other racers who are mingling about and making my way towards the rubbish. I toss it inside and turn around, but my heart stops beating momentarily when I come face-to-face with Jaeyun. My first love.

He appears to have been running, given how he is panting lightly and sweats trickling down his temple. His dark hair is slightly tousled, making me want to adjust it, but I refrain from doing so.

"Stella, I need to tell you something." He starts off, but the moment he speaks, I look away from him and attempt to walk away. "This is important!" He tugs at my wrist, causing me to jerk from his sudden touch.

I look at him with a scowl. "What do you want─"

"Rena was spotted earlier." Jaeyun cuts me off with a sense of urgency. "She was seen where we racers stationed our vehicles."

I kind of had a hunch that she would be here, considering how she wouldn't stop pestering me for the past few days about the Grand Prix and how it'll be the night I will remember.

"So what?" I ask bluntly, which throws him off guard. "Thanks for this important information."

"You don't understand, love." Jaeyun says in frustration. "Don't you know your sister? She could've done something deplorable tonight that might concern your safety."

"Even if she did something, why do you care?" I let out a shaky breath.

Jaeyun's eyes glisten. "I never stopped caring about you, love."

I look away from his eyes, because the longer I stare into them, the stronger the urge to return to his arms. "Then stop caring." I turn my back on him while tears brim in my eyes. "I did."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Determination and tenacity sizzle through every fibre of my being while my clutch on the steering wheel tightens with resolve. The blaring sound of the exhaust of my engine blares just as loudly as the other cars on the circuit.

My eyes shift to the rear view mirror, noticing Jaeyun's car approaching from behind. My foot presses down the accelerator pedal, refusing to lose against him or even some of them. Currently, I'm against seven competitors, including Jaeyun, Riki, and Sunghoon. Just earlier, I saw the bunch of them together, but I refrain from going to them just like I used to.

Focus, Stella. My better instinct tells me as my eyes harden. You can't afford to lose.

My hands multitask, going into auto mode as they operate the functions with competency. I manage to overtake Sunghoon, but there are still three cars ahead of me. Suddenly feeling a little breathless, I slide up the visor of my helmet to get some air, but it isn't enough.

I begin to cough as my throat begins to feel dry before I finally notice how the interior of my car seems misty.

"Stella." I hear Junho's voice speaking into my ear, as I have an earbud inside. "You're slowing down and losing momentum. What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." I cough once more before I grit my teeth in annoyance. "I was a little distracted."

"Focus, Hwang. You know you can't be distracted." Junho says sternly. "Make me proud. Make your uncle proud."

It's as if the mention of my uncle is the triggering point, and before I know it, I pick up the velocity, zooming past each car as though it's a vigorous beast. Sweats trickle down my skin while my heart is having palpitations.

After successfully leaving the other racers in the dust, I attempt to decelerate my car as I realise how fast my car is going, but as I hit the pedal break, nothing changes. The speed remains the same. I begin to panic, trying everything in my power to reduce the speed of my car, but to no avail.

"Stella! You're going insanely fast!" Junho's urgent voice doesn't help to alleviate what I'm feeling either.

"I can't!" I choke out as tears spring from my eyes. "Something's wrong with the functions!"

Then I hear nothing from Junho. I try again, again, and again, but nothing is working. This has never happened before, and I'm guessing Rena did something to my vehicle. I don't know if I will make it out alive.

Thud!

I almost let go of the steering wheel due to the impact I received from the side. I look out the window, and my eyes widen when I see Jaeyun's car. It seems as though he's trying to help me reduce the speed despite the fact that there would be scratches or even damages done to our cars, but Jaeyun doesn't relent.

I feel another thud coming from the opposite, prompting me to look and spot Sunghoon's car as well. They're trying to help me.

Both of their cars come closer and closer until I hear loud screeching from the outside. I try to step on the pedal break again, hoping that it'll function again. Upon seeing that the speed of my car doesn't relent, Jaeyun picks up velocity and overtakes me, but in an instant, he does a swift yet dangerous drift, with his car facing me as he drives backwards.

I guess he's pulling the brakes, because the moment the head of my car meets his, I can feel the difference in speed, but it isn't enough to stop immediately. The loud screeching reaches my ears while my heart beats fast in apprehension.

Jaeyun's tactic seems to be working even though the exterior of our cars has been damaged. Just as we're about to slow down to a stop, we hear loud blaring from my side, prompting me to look with wide eyes at two cars heading towards us with no intention to stop.

Alas, both crash into Jaeyun and me, sending our vehicles flying due to the major impact and the speed. Window glasses shatter everywhere, and my ribs start to hurt while my helmet hits the roof of my car, making me lightheaded.

For a moment, stillness envelopes me as I stay in my seat motionlessly with my car now hanging upside down while pain spikes through my body. I feel blood trickling down my head, and my hands are bearing some wounds from the shattered glasses. As my eyelids are threatening to close, the smell of something burning invades my senses.

"Get Stella out!" I hear muffled voices and yelling before the driver's door is forced open.

"Stella!" I feel hands trying to unbuckle my seatbelt in urgency. As soon as Heeseung unbuckles it, he is swift to catch me and attempts to get me out, but I ended up being dragged due to the difficulty of being hanged upside down.

My eyelids are heavy, but I persist, feeling my back leaning against Heeseung's chest while I spot Jay kneeling in front of me as he carefully removes my helmet.

"Stella." Heeseung frantically brushes the strands of my hair away from sticking to my face. My head lolls to the side, feeling heavy, and the fact that my ribcage feels painful.

"Jaeyun." I manage to utter, though in a whimper. "Is Jaeyun safe?" But my eyes shift to the view in front of me, and my heart drops.

Fire is slowly engulfing Jaeyun's car whole, and I spot Jaeyun, who has been dragged away from his car. Half of his face is smeared with blood while he appears lifeless.

"No." I begin to sob weakly as tears flow freely. It was supposed to be only me, not him. He wasn't supposed to get hurt.

"Get the stretchers!" I hear Junho bark out orders while chaos erupts everywhere.

I feel Heeseung's arm go underneath my knees while the other goes behind my back before he carries me in bridal style. He seems to be saying something, but his voice sounds far away. Before I knew it, I had fallen into the rabbit hole.

The paramedics brought Jake, Stella, and the other two racers to the nearest hospital. Unfortunately, the other two racers couldn't pull the brakes, just like Stella. Compared to the three of them, Jake receives the most impact, which is why he is now in a critical condition.

"Heeseung!" Aera calls for me, jogging towards us as we wait outside of the A&E room. She pants heavily while her eyes glisten with tears. "Stella and Jake?"

I shake my head at her and sigh deeply as I run my fingers through my hair in frustration. "They're still inside."

"I don't get it." Sunoo, who is seated on the bench, speaks up with a look of despair. "How could this have happened?"

"I'm guessing Rena happened." Sunghoon says as he leans against the wall across from us. His eyes harden. "Before the race, Jake told me about Rena being spotted at where the vehicles are stationed. I'm assuming that she tampered with their vehicles."

"But how?" Ni-Ki asks incredulously. "Unless someone gave her access."

"You're right." Jay approaches us after not being seen anywhere. "Sorry. I've had to do a little investigation and do some reporting on the accident. But Ni-Ki is right. Rena paid some staff to let her in."

"Then she should be put behind bars!" Aera exclaims.

"Don't worry. She's currently being investigated." Jay rolls his eyes. "Although I'm positive her parents will bail her out."

We wait impatiently yet restlessly for the outcome of the next hour.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After hearing the dreadful news from Jake's doctor, I decide to head to Stella's room with Aera while the guys head over to Jake's. As soon as my eyes settle on her figure, my heart aches at the sight, especially with IV drips inserted into her skin.

Stella looks utterly vulnerable as she rests. I look down at her hands, which are covered in bandages, before I tenderly hold her hand. According to her doctor, she sustained an injury to her ribcage in bruised form, and the side of her forehead needed stitching. She also inhaled some type of substance that caused her to feel dizzy. Other than that, she is fine.

"Jaeyun?" Stella mumbles, startling us as she stirs, finally fluttering her eyes open. "Jaeyun!"

"Hey, hey. It's fine, sweetheart." I move closer to her side with my hand gently touching her forehead. She weeps in silence as tears trickle down her cheeks.

"Where is Jaeyun?" She asks weakly.

I give her a sad smile. "He's in the ICU. He's in a critical condition. He received the most impact."

"He's in a coma." Aera speaks up, her voice sounds shaky. "We don't know if he'll wake up."

At once, Stella releases a sharp sob, and I can only hold her hand, feeling helpless and useless. "It's my fault." Stella cries out. "I was supposed to be the only one to get hurt, not him!"

Neither Aera nor I can offer her words of consolation. Aera covers her mouth as her eyes glisten with tears, getting emotional upon seeing Stella break down.

"He shouldn't have helped me. If he hadn't, he would be safe." Stella holds my hand tighter.

"You know he would. He would always save you in a heartbeat, sweetheart." My voice is barely above a whisper. "Just like I would. Just like any of us would."

Stella shakes her head, whimpering. "I'm not worth saving, Hee."

Upon hearing her statement, my heart seems to be shattering into pieces.

For the past three days, whenever we paid Stella a visit, she would mostly remain silent and stare into spaces. Even as we tried to get her to speak, she would either nod or shake her head. We've been dying to talk to her about what happened at the gala. She needed to know that our feelings for her still remain unchanged.

"I heard from someone that Stella had been discharged from the hospital last night." Sunoo announces as we gather at Sunghoon's crib, but silence is all he receives. With Jungwon gone and Jake in a comatose state, nothing has been the same as it was.

Everything is crumbling.

"Surprisingly, Jake's parents paid him a visit yesterday." Sunghoon attempts to start a conversation. "I thought they wouldn't care, but I was shocked to see his mother shedding tears."

"I feel bad for Charlotte." Ni-Ki says with a frown. "She was crying hysterically at the hospital."

I heave a deep sigh, leaning my back against the couch. "Everything has gone wrong since Jungwon happened."

"He didn't even bid us goodbye." Sunoo's voice wavers while he looks hurtful.

Before anyone can speak, the doorbell chimes repeatedly, followed by a familiar voice calling for us frantically. "Heeseung! Sunghoon! Anyone?!"

Heeseung doesn't hesitate to rush to the main door, which is nearer to the living room where we're at. As Heeseung swings, the door opens, and Aera rushes inside, all sweaty and looking as though she had been chased by a serial killer.

"Who invited you here?" Sunoo attempts to joke, but to our great astonishment, Aera breaks into tears.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Heeseung immediately holds his sister. "Aera."

"It's Stella." Aera sobs with hiccups, leaving her lips. "She's in danger."

"What?" I step forward, my brows furrowing, while I feel uneasy. "What do you mean she's in danger?"

"Mary called me, telling me to go to the address she sent to me and pleaded to save Stella." Aera tries to even her breathing, but she seems to be going hysterical. "Mary didn't even have the chance to explain everything before I heard her screaming in agony on the line, and─ oh my god."

Heeseung embraces Aera as the latter clings onto him, weeping into his shoulder. "What I heard was horrible before the line went dead." Aera then looks at us with desperation. "We need to save her."

"Of course. Send me the address." Sunghoon answers for all of us. "And you stay here put. You'd be safer here."

"No." Aera shakes her head stubbornly. "I'm coming with you guys. Stella's my soul sister."

"Hoon's right, sis." Heeseung holds her shoulders and looks at her firmly. "I don't want to risk the chance of losing you." Aera's eyes soften before Heeseung leans forward to peck her forehead.

"I'm calling for legal backups." I tell them as I whip out my phone. Thank God I have a close cousin from law enforcement who I know I can trust to help me out.

"Let's go, then."

Initially, I was supposed to be discharged tomorrow, but last night, my parents demanded that my doctor release me early. The doctor, just like any other, was scared shitless by the influence and authority my parents wielded and the fact that they're the Hwangs, so that led to where I am presently, in my bedroom, as I curl my body like a prawn with vacant eyes.

There is no doubt that my parents now know about me being a racer, given how the major incident that happened at the Grand Prix came out in the news and spread out through the media like wildfire. But oddly enough, neither of them has yet to confront me about it. The last thing I heard from my mother was her ordering Mary to take me to my room and have me well rested.

My finger begins to draw a circle on my bedsheet while my eyes follow its movement. I've been lying on my bed for the past few hours after Mary brought my medications and meals. The mansion is peculiarly quiet. Mary did tell me that everyone is in the mansion, but it's weird not hearing Rena's usual whines and my mother barking orders to the pitiful helpers.

I sigh once more before deciding to get up, slowly raising my body while my ribcage throbs, but it's bearable compared to a few days ago. It isn't healthy for me to be cooped up in my room the whole day. I need to exercise a little.

As I open the door, I take a peek outside the hallway, where only two helpers can be seen wiping the dust at every corner. Stepping outside, I begin to make my way down. Since my stomach is grumbling a little, I should check out the fridge so I can munch on anything edible.

But I halt my steps just before I nearly reach the kitchen. I am swift enough to hide myself from their sight behind the wall. I can't help but eavesdrop on them. Rena and Jihyun.

"Mom, don't you think it's time we tell Stella the truth?" Rena asks, and judging by her tone, I can tell she is smirking.

I hear Jihyun sighing wearily. "I don't think it's a good idea, Rena."

"I think it's a splendid idea! She's grown up now, so she should be able to handle the truth!" Rena exclaims. "Besides, she can't keep getting away from all the troubles she's gotten herself into just because she's the heir when she's not even a proper Hwang."

"Rena." There is a warning under Jihyun's tone. "Enough. She's your sister."

"You mean half-sister."

My face contorts into confusion. Half-sister? Is she bluffing?

Rena continues to speak with such disdain. "Since Hyunjin and Yeji are no longer here, I should be appointed as the official Hwang heir, but no. Dad chose Stella. She doesn't even deserve the title when I'm the rightful heir."

I can't take this anymore. I begin to make my way into the kitchen and finally see Rena and Jihyun by the kitchen island. Jihyun's eyes widen at the sight of me, whereas Rena simply raises her eyebrow at me.

"Half-sister?" I start off, and my tone sounds sharp and cold. I look directly into Jihyun's fearful eyes. "Tell me the truth, mother. What did Rena mean by half-sister?"

"Stella, you should be in bed!" Jihyun attempts to distract me with her chastisement, walking towards me and trying to reach for me, but I back away from her. "Stella, please!"

"If you want to know so bad about the truth, why don't you ask father?" Rena suggests, giving me a coy smile while something malicious glints in her eyes. "Go on, sister. He's in his office right now."

"Stella, don't!" Jihyun tries to reach for me again, but I am already walking away despite my rib that still throbs in pain.

After living with them for many years and learning their behaviours, maybe I am falling into a trap, or maybe it's just nothing, but I need to know, especially when it is highly related to the confidential file that I still have in my possession.

Before I know it, I reach outside of his office. I don't bother to knock as I barge into his office. His men at the side seem alarmed by my unwanted presence, but when Minhyuk raises his palm, they heed.

I breathe heavily with my eyes drilling into Minhyuk's forehead while he appears to be nonchalant as he reads through his paperwork. "No more secrets and no more lies, father." A muscle jumps in my jaw. "Tell me the truth behind my birth."

Minhyuk releases a sigh and slowly removes his reading glasses before meeting my eyes. "I've been waiting for you to confront me about it ever since you stole the confidential file."

I clench a fist. "Just go straight to the point, father."

Minhyuk chuckles coldly, enough to bring chills down my spine. "Father. I've always hated you calling me that. I'm sure you're smart enough to put the final pieces together, daughter."

He's implying that since I've read the documents in the confidential file, the final piece is an obvious answer. "You're not my biological father." I state firmly despite my hands, which are trembling from the revelation. "Then who is my biological father?"

"Let me tell you a story about the time when I found out about your mother's infidelity years ago." Minhyuk rises from his seat and strides around the table before leaning his back on the edge of his table, standing across from me. "You see, I've always wanted anything my older brother wanted, including the woman of my dreams, ergo, your mother."

Confusion clouds my head. Why is he suddenly mentioning Uncle Minjun?

"Winning over your mother's heart was easy, and so I stole from him and married her a few years later. When she gave birth to your older brother and sister, I was overjoyed, but then came the responsibilities I had to commit. I got busy with work to the point where I neglected your mother." He continues with a grim look. "I was on a business trip, and your mother got lonely. So she sought comfort in another man's arms, the one who used to be her first love. One thing led to another, your mother got pregnant with you, unfortunately."

I swallow down a painful lump. "If my birth was unfortunate, you should've killed me instead. But you didn't. You raised me in this mansion that doesn't feel like home because you made it hell."

Minhyuk smirks coldly. "I had some thoughts about killing you off, but your mother wanted to keep you. In retaliation, I forbid your biological father from raising you and warned him not to reveal the truth to you. I was lenient enough to allow him to see you and bring you out."

"Uncle Minjun." Tears well up in my eyes as I gasp softly when realisation hits me like a brick. "He's my biological father."

"Yes. My dearest older brother." Minhyuk speaks of him as though he's poisoned. "You were never supposed to find out the truth until the day you die."

"Why?" I allow the tears to flow down. "Even if I'm not your real daughter, we still share the same blood! How could you treat your own blood like this?! For years, I've done everything you asked me to, and I even endured all your torturous ways to tame me." I cry out while my chest starts to hurt. "What even is my sin?!"

"Your existence itself is the biggest sin!" Minhyuk roars at me, finally unleashing the monster that lurks beneath his $1000 suit. "You are a constant reminder of their infidelity!"

I don't even realise that Minhyuk is just standing a few metres from me now. I manage to catch the way his fingers seem to motion to his men, and before I know it, they grab my arms tight, preventing me from escaping.

"Did you know that such infidelity is unacceptable to the Hwangs? And do you know what happens to those who are born because of it?" Minhyuk leans closer to my face, and the emotion in his eyes shakes me to the core. "They die."

"You can't kill me!" I yell, struggling in their grasps. "I'm the heir! You know you need me! I'm the only one who is capable and competent enough compared to Rena!"

"I don't need you. As for my precious daughter, Rena, I'm sure she'll do an exceptional job once she's educated and groomed well." He says. "She's my daughter, after all."

I laugh humorlessly before looking up at him with a smirk. "Yeah, your daughter, alright. Do you know that Rena loved stealing what was once mine? I guess it runs in the blood after all."

A loud smack resonates throughout this room as I find my head turning sideways. My left cheek feels a stinging pain from the impact of his palm.

"Sir." Another of his men barges into the room, but this time, the sound of Mary protesting catches my attention. "I found her eavesdropping outside." He roughly throws Mary to the floor.

"Mary, she's your loyal maid, right?" Minhyuk looks at me with a sinister smile.

My eyes harden. "Don't you dare do anything to her."

"Even if I did, you wouldn't be able to do anything." He chuckles before speaking to his men. "Bring her to the 500 central warehouse and prepare the necessary equipment. Make sure to make it look like an accident."

"What about her?" One of his men asks as he nudges his head towards Mary.

"She'll be dealt with later."

But I scream at Mary, "Mary, run!"

And she does so without hesitation, swift enough to catch one of the men off guard. I hope she'll be able to escape.

"Catch her, you fool!" Minhyuk barks at him before the man quickly runs after Mary.

"What is the meaning of this?" I hear my mother's voice from behind. "Minhyuk! What are you doing?!" For the first time, my mother sounds afraid, as though she fears losing me.

Minhyuk glares at her heatedly. "Doing what I should've done years ago. Undoing your mistake, Jihyun."

The next thing I know, something hard hits my head, resulting in me losing consciousness the instant.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When I regain consciousness, I find myself at an old-looking warehouse. I wince as my head feels heavy while my eyes flutter, looking at my surroundings. I spot some of Minhyuk's men, seeming to be holding cruets with yellowish-looking liquid as they throw the content on every wall, not missing out anything.

I try to move, but as I glance down, I realise that I've been tied to a wooden chair. I wince when I make the slightest movement, feeling pain from my ribcage that was supposed to heal soon.

"You're finally awake! I got bored of waiting." Rena speaks in a sweet yet sickening tone as I slowly look up to see her striding towards me. My heart rate spikes upon seeing a knife in her gloved hand. "Dad gave me permission to follow his men. I mean, someone has to make sure that you won't be able to make it out alive."

"How could you be this heartless?" I ask, my body trembling in anger and despair. "Even if I'm not Minhyuk's biological daughter, I'm still your sister."

"Blood means nothing to me, especially when that person was born out of infidelity." Rena scoffs. "I've always known that you're my half-sister. Father revealed it to me back in elementary school. I was furious because how could you still live freely when you're a constant reminder of mom's mistake?"

"Then why am I being blamed when I didn't ask for any of this to happen?!" My scream is resounding.

In a blink of an eye, Rena plunges the knife into my left thigh, sending my body into a shock before the pain comes. I scream, crying in agony, as she twists the knife deeper into my flesh. The pain is unlike any other.

"You're right!" Rena speaks beside my ear, taking pleasure in my affliction. "It isn't your fault that you were created because of a mistake." Rena looks at me in the eyes and smiles cruelly before she removes the knife from my thigh, which is gushing out blood. "So allow me to do you a favour by undoing our mommy dearest's sin."

I close my eyes as I await the pain, expecting Rena to stab me once more, but nothing happens. Instead, I hear Rena yelp out, and a commotion happens. As I open my eyes, I spot Sunghoon pinning a hysterical Rena to the ground.

At once, chaos erupts with Minhyuk's men fighting against some police officers while I spot familiar faces that make my heart ache.

"I got you, Stel." Riki's voice speaks behind me as I feel him cutting off the ropes around my body.

"What is happening?" I ask, confused but lightheaded due to the blood loss I'm experiencing. As soon as the ropes around me fall to the ground, I feel my body swaying, but Jay manages to catch me in front.

"We're saving you." Jay murmurs, holding me against him as he tries to steady me, but my legs wobble due to how weak I am.

"But how are you here?" I ask languidly as my eyelids feel heavy.

"Mary called Aera." Heeseung appears in front of me with a small cloth. He kneels down to tie the cloth around my thigh to stop the bleeding before continuing to clear my confusion. "Aera came to us for help, to save you."

I try to stand strong on my feet, but the pain on my thigh is unbearable, and I find myself falling into Heeseung, to whom he holds me steady. I breathe heavily as I'm on the brink of losing consciousness for the second time. "I told you that I'm not worth saving." I say to him.

Heeseung looks at me with his jaw tightening. "And I told you that we'd save you in a heartbeat."

Just as I'm about to protest, a burning smell invades my senses before I look at our surroundings in panic. One of the men manages to set the warehouse on fire.

"Get out!" An unfamiliar man dressed in formal attire barks out from afar. "Find the nearest exit!"

"No!" Rena shrieks from behind before we turn around to see Sunghoon on the ground, with blood gushing from his arm, while Rena's knife is redder, stained with blood. "I won't let you live, Hwang Stella!" Her wild eyes look at me before she charges towards me.

"Run!" Jay attempts to drag me with him, but due to my injury, I stumble and fall to the ground. Frantically, I turn around to see an incoming Rena with the tip of the knife pointed towards me.

"Stella!" Jay shouts for me in mortification while I pathetically try to back away.

But Heeseung is swift enough to grab Rena by her arm with ease and pull her away from coming towards me. As Jay tries to help me up, I watch in horror as Rena and Heeseung brawl on the ground. She reaches out for the knife frantically.

"Heeseung!" I yell, the fear in my voice is apparent as he avoids her attack, but in a blink of an eye, she plunges the knife into his stomach, making me cry out for him for the second time.

Boom!

A sudden explosion erupts. I look up in horror. The warehouse is starting to fall apart.

"Ni-Ki! Get Stella out of here!" Jay orders before I feel Riki's presence from behind. Without a word, Riki carries me in a bridal style while Jay runs away.

"Riki! Some of them are still inside!" I cry out, tears streaming down my face.

"Your safety is our top priority, Stel." Riki clenches his jaw while his eyes glisten with tears.

"No!" I cough due to inhaling the smoke that is becoming thick. "We need to save them!" But my plea goes unheard as he continues to find a way out.

"Ni-Ki! Here!" Sunoo is standing by an open door, calling for us. Riki immediately makes a run for the exit, but he almost drops me when there is another explosion. Finally, we manage to exit from the warehouse, but the second they step foot outside, the entire warehouse bursts into flames, resulting in us falling to the ground due to the explosion.

I groan in agony at the impact as I lie on the ground. I look to my sides, noticing Riki unconscious while Sunoo is wincing in pain. We can feel the heat of the flames from this distance.

"Riki." I whimper, my hand trying to reach out to him, but I wince at the pain shooting in my shoulder. My head feels heavy, and I don't even know if I can hold on any longer.

"Stella, hold on." Sunoo's hand grabs mine, but even his grasp feels weak.

Maybe we were never meant to have our own happy ending, as long as they were tied to me. My heart rate seems to be slowing down while my surroundings have become a blur. I hear muffled shouts in the background as my eyelids finally give up on me.

Then, comes the silence as well as the familiar darkness that I can now call a friend.

Am I alive? Or am I dead? I don't know. My surroundings are painted in obsidian. But if I am dead, then why do I feel such warmth coming from someone while my ears are slowly picking up to the sounds of my surroundings?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I'm not dead. Relief washes over me like a tidal wave. But I can't seem to move as my body feels heavy. I know for a fact that I am capable of making a movement, but it is as if my body refuses to cooperate with me.

Come on, Jake. Move!

Finally, I feel my fingers twitching. Then comes a familiar voice that exclaims in shock. "Jake Oppa!" Charlotte. "Jake's awake!"

After much determination, I manage to flutter my eyelids open but groan at the blinding lights on the ceiling. My body still feels weak, and my throat feels dry as sand. Heck, I feel like I've been brought back from the dead.

"Jake!" Sunoo greets me at the side, hovering over my figure. Tears glisten in his eyes as he smiles down at me. "I'm glad you're awake."

"Oppa." Charlotte holds my hand as she weeps. "I've missed you so much."

With Sunoo's assistance, I slowly sit up with my back leaning against the headboard. I take a look at Charlotte with a frown on my face as I notice how she has grown a little taller. "I've missed you too, Char."

I run my fingers through my hair, but I feel startled by how long the strands are. I look at Sunoo with visible confusion. "How long was I asleep? Weeks?"

A grim expression etches on Sunoo's face. "You were in a coma for eight months, Jake."

It feels as though time has stopped around me. My face drops, as does my heart. I can't believe that I've been in a coma for so long.

"You were in a critical condition. We even thought you wouldn't make it." Sunoo tells me with sad eyes. "But the doctor informed us that you were trying to fight. So we stayed hopeful."

"He's right, Oppa." Char rubs her eyes.

I sigh deeply. "I guess I must've missed out a lot." I chuckle, but I am only met by silence before I dart my eyes at the two. "What? I haven't missed out that much, right?" I still jest. "I can't wait to meet the rest, especially Stella. God, Stella. I haven't even given her a proper apology."

"Oppa," Char tugs at my hand. "Unnie isn't here." She says quietly.

A frown tugs at the corners of my lips. "What do you mean?"

"It means she isn't here, Jake." Sunoo mutters. "She's gone."

The only sound that can be heard in the moment is the sound of my shattering heart.

PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP

#enhypen #enhypen poly #enhypen reverse harem #enhypen x fem oc

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gremlitsspoon · 7 months

Text

memeifying moments from the latest chapter of my dinluke deaf!luke fic <3

paz, who had his ass handed to him by luke who told him he holding back: and i took that personally

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

luke: i cant go with you to scout out mandalore </3

paz, 10 minutes after getting beat up by luke: why, cuz youre a coward?

luke: din said im not allowed to rush into things without a plan again </3

din: good job not leaping into it this time luke, im proud of you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

din: i support the manda'lor

bo katan: *voluntelling din to go explore mandalore out of spite*

din: i no longer support the manda'lor

tav, 5th tatooine sunrise in hand: welcome to the club pal

#dinluke #luke skywalker #din djarin #deaf!luke

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meowteorite · 2 days

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The Lantern | Outer Wilds

Outer Wilds is a game best enjoyed without spoiling anything for yourself. The game relies on mental checkpoints, so once you know about something, there is no way of reliving the magic of finding it out via simply playing the game.

This piece of literature includes spoilers for the WHOLE main game (Outer Wilds) AND DLC (Echoes of the Eye). I am going to mention critical story points and I am going to touch on how to solve endgame puzzles.

If you are interested in space, please check out Outer Wilds. If you like puzzle games, please check out Outer Wilds. If you are interested in a more unconventional game, please check out Outer Wilds. I will not force you to, but I can only recommend playing Outer Wilds.

Night has fallen. The familiar sounds of silence are filling the dark room that is lit only by candlelight and the dim blue light coming from the tiny window. How long have I been imprisoned here? Left alone in this room, unwilling – or unable? – to die. My body may have rotten, may have crumbled to dust. I do not know. My soul is caged only by the blue fire emitted by the lantern I have been holding onto for years. I cannot unlearn how to talk, though it has been a good while since I did. I should have lost my mind, but the sheer force of not wanting to has kept me sane. I have not heard a sound from beyond these walls in so long. Is anybody even still out there? Am I the only one left? I will not blow out my lantern. The sun rises again.

Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen.

I have witnessed so many sunsets and sunrises within these walls, thousands of years must have gone by. But what if it is a trick by the others? I am trapped in this simulation that they have created. What tells me they have not modified it to make time seem endlessly long? For the real world outside this box, it might have been only a few hours. It would fit them. It would fit them to be trapped alongside me, though not by force but their own will. It would fit them to misalign how fast time in here progresses, compared to the real world. They had always feared the end. Death. The great unknown. A few thousand sunrises and sunsets ago, I would have called them cowards. But I am trapping myself in the simulation – just as much as they are. I will not blow out my lantern. The sun rises again.

I could blow out my lantern at any time, disconnecting me from this room that keeps me prisoner. I could die. My body could already be rotten, crumbled up to dust. If I blew out my lantern I could disconnect my mind, finally free. But if my theory, however wrong it may actually be, is true and only a few days have passed since my imprisonment, I could still be alive. Before the simulation caught me, I felt the air thickening, felt my stomach aching from not having eaten in days. My feet were giving in, only for me to discover that the wooden box forced me to stand. But what kind of life would I even have left? Trapped inside a wooden box, my own grave, my own sarcophagus, starving or suffocating to death. In this simulation I cannot feel the pain inflicted upon my real body. Maybe staying – however boring it may be – is more welcome than pain and suffering. I will not blow out my lantern. The sun rises again.

My prison houses a telescope, to look at an image of the planet we had left behind. They were so keen on following their new hope, they had rendered our home a barren wasteland. Then they felt betrayed by their new hope, and so they constructed an image of our home planet in our fake simulated world. I do no longer care to look at it, I have seen every inch at least a thousand times. I am saddened by how we treated our home, though I am happy we were curious enough to leave it. Even though I only see the same walls each and every passing day now, I am happy that I was able to see something more before that. I will not blow out my lantern. The sun rises again.

I am staring at the same walls again. My nails do not grow, my feathers are not falling out. My antler is not growing back. My eyes are adjusting to the light and the darkness as they always have. Even if I had always hated the simulated world, found it to be a cowardly way of escaping reality, I wanted to look outside. The window is too high up for me, I can only look at the sky. The sky with the big blue planet, the sky with the simulated sun. I have tried staring into the sun, but while it would hurt my eyes in the real world, here it does not do anything. Everything stays the same. I will not blow out my lantern. The sun rises again.

My two rooms have started to feel smaller. I have tried carving into these wooden planks, they seem indestructible. No scratches, no marks. The lift is working as usual, I can go wherever I want. As long as “wherever” is within these walls. This simulated body does not need to eat. It does not need – and it cannot – sleep. I cannot pass the time. Looking through the window and into the sky has long become utterly worthless to me. There is nothing else to do within these walls, aside from thinking. I might blow out my lantern? The sun rises again.

The planet in the night sky has began taunting me. The blue light coming from it fills my room each night. I cannot escape it. It is the same shade of blue as the fire of my lantern. I have picked up my chair, I have smashed it into the wall. There is no damage to be found. Not a scratch, not a mark. I might blow out my lantern. The sun rises again.

Can this simulated body feel pain when it becomes too much? I am sticking one of my fingers into my lantern, holding it directly into the fire. My vision becomes blurry, though my finger does not ache. I pull it back. I will blow out my lantern. The sun rises again.

Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen. The sun rises again. Night has fallen? The sun rises again? Night has fallen? The sun rises again?

Night has fallen. Is it possible to hallucinate within this world? I could have sworn I had heard a sound coming from outside the walls. I tried looking through the window, but the planet is still here and there’s nothing else to see. I wanted to scream, but fear had taken over me. Who else but my former peers could be out there? There is no way to reach this island from within the simulation. Maybe my theory of how time progresses within the simulation is correct. Have they come to free me from my prison? Maybe they think I had been broken enough? But it would be so unlike them to welcome a “traitor” amidst them. They surely have not considered being in the wrong, I cannot believe. I will not blow out my lantern.

There are steps outside, I am so very sure of it. I heard something move on … water? It must be. There is something moving, someone is aligning the platforms for the bridge. Have they come to free me? My ears start ringing as I hear the sound of bells, but the footsteps continue on. I hear someone rotating a wheel. I must be hallucinating, it cannot be. I hear someone approaching through the tunnel. Suddenly, I am scared. I shift back into the darkness, the darkest spot of these walls. I sit down on my chair. I am going to wait. I will not make a sound. My life may be over soon. I can hear footsteps in the room above me, going in circles. I will not blow out my lantern.

Someone is stepping inside of the lift, it is moving downward. I am sitting in silence, I am not moving. The door opens, someone enters. They are small. They are turning around. I hope they will not leave, even if I am scared. They are looking left and right, checking the walls. They are searching for something, but what is there to be found here aside from me? They are staring in my direction, their face is … Their face is blue. And they have four eyes. And they are smaller than me. No need to fear them, probably. They are taking tiny steps toward me, eager. Lantern in hand. I will not blow out my lantern.

They are within reach, but they are not doing anything. They are looking, staring into the darkness. They are taking a step toward me. I do not want to scare them, but I most likely will once they bump into me. I will not blow out my lantern. I will not stand up. I might stand up? I will stand up. I stand up. I reach out my hand, my body had become a bit stiff from sitting. Fear overcomes their face, they run to the other side of the room. I scared them, even if it was not my intention. I will not blow out their lantern.

I stand there, staring at them. What is their intention? They are staring at me, regaining their composure. They are approaching me, they open their mouth. There are words coming out, but none that I know. I cannot recall a species looking like that. Maybe they have come from far away? Maybe they are also in search for the Eye? This is what I have waited for all this time. Someone to share my knowledge with, yet I lack the words. I must think of a way that enables me to talk to them. I must ask them how they were able to visit me, how they were able to unlock my seals. I remember my vision torch, I am stepping aside to grab it. They take a step back. I will not blow out their lantern.

I am holding the vision torch to their head, communicating to them what my species did. How we left out home planet in search for the Eye, how we left it a wasteland. How we built this space station to last for an eternity so that we could stay with the Eye forever, no matter what it looked like. What the Eye told us, how it told us that the end of the universe is near. How betrayed the others felt upon seeing this and how they tried to lock the Eye away. How I managed to break the seal, freeing the Eye for a mere moment. How they locked me away, both in the real world and the simulation. Finally, I could talk to someone. All this time, this time where I had felt so alone and stripped of purpose – there was a purpose. And I was not alone. I want to think of them as a friend in need. I will not blow out my lantern.

I am done with sharing my experiences. The look on their face is one of understanding, the look of someone that has found the final piece to their puzzle. They seem eager to share something with me, I am so very glad. I want to know their story, their origin. I hand them my vision torch. I will not blow out my lantern.

They show me my own species. My own planet. The plants are dying, the houses are still standing but in the worst condition they have ever been. Time has passed, my theory was wrong. My body is dead, so are the bodies of all my former friends. My former family. The thought saddens me a little, but I cannot help but feel a little bit more at peace. They tell me how the Eye sent out a signal to a faraway place. The inhabitants of this place built a spaceship, teleporting away from their home in order to find the Eye. I can relate to them. By shutting the blocking system for the eye off, I helped them receive a signal of the Eye. I am happy to have helped another species find out about this mysterious thing. The next vision. I am glad I did not blow out my lantern.

Their ship got stuck within a vine-like structure, but they managed to send out some little shuttles. I hope they all managed to safely escape their shuttle. I hope they are all well. They built houses on different planets. A blue light approaches them, they all fall to the ground. They are dead. Their skeletons remain, their houses crumble. An astronaut found these houses, they brought a wall with some sort of violet text to a house. A museum? There are other blue people. I see the person before me, they look even smaller. The one that had transported the wall must be some sort of other blue person. The one before me is looking at the wall, they are growing older. They are in their own spaceship, putting on some sort of suit, flying off into the deep vastness of space. I am so very glad I did not blow out my lantern.

Hearing this person’s story makes me happy. I did not think my prison would allow me to talk to someone else again, but I did. My species is long gone, everybody has long withered away. The natural course of life, the end. Their minds may still wander this simulation, for now. Seeing what had happened to our space shuttle makes me realize that nothing is forever, their life is going to end at some point as well. But I remember the three seals of my prison, and I remember what sacrifice had to be made in order to break one of them. I am saddened that by visiting me, the creature before me had given all they had left away. I hope they will not rely on the simulation. It would be their prison, as it was mine. I am saddened but hope that they will blow out their lantern.

For now, I wish to see the surface again. I stretch out my hand, I wish to hold my vision torch. My newfound friend hands it to me. I step on the lift, eager to leave the prison behind. I want to go before them. I bow to them, my deepest and most heartfelt thanks. There is nothing I would have loved more for the last few minutes of my life. I step on the elevator. I go outside, the sand beneath my feet. I see the raft. I would have loved to sail into the sunset with my friend, but I cannot. I cannot stand this world any longer, and I am at peace. A last vision for them, to show how glad I was to have met them. We push the raft forward, we sit in it. We float toward the ever-growing sun. We are together, nobody needs to be alone anymore. I push the vision torch into the sand, making sure that they will see it. I am glad I did not blow out my lantern.

I take a few steps, I approach the dark water. The sun begins to rise again, but I am not here to see another day. My knees are touched by the cold water, my lower body is submerged. I cannot swim in this simulation, I do not feel the need to try. I walk further. One last look at the planet I had watched from my prison all these years. I am glad I did not blow out my lantern, so that the water could do it for me.

#Outer Wilds #Echoes of the Eye #Outer Wilds Echoes of the Eye #eote spoilers #outer wilds spoilers #outer wilds fanfiction #fanfiction #outer wilds oneshort #outer wilds story #story #writing #text #text post #writer #writers on tumblr #art #fanart #writeblr

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caitvithinker · 6 days

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doksoo

you love me more than i can describe; i am a writer and yet i cannot speak such meaninglessly beautiful sacrifice, a coward protecting themselves from safety. i wrap you in something intangible, a warm comfort like the slow of the sunrise, something beyond recognition, a fantasy not even heaven could grant you the ability to conjure.

your words dent in my mind, clearer than any memory ive ever had, the airy sound of your breath as you spoke, the love etched in words that would otherwise be cruel. i wait for you like i am not capable of functioning without your hands to guide me.

i will crawl to you even as my pages burn, even as the ones whose love i craved like nothing else depletes and i am powerless. my sobs are inaudible when you cannot hear them, my eyes may as well be blind if you are not the subject they look to. what is the use of me if the sentences i so carefully cultivated are not enough to bring you back to me? what is the use of me if i cannot battle with fate for your love and come out victorious, a blood splatter painted onto a gentle smile to adorn my face and greet you with?

#i didn’t mean to write this about doksoo but it kind of just happened #neutral about this as well #orv #hnk #jwqs #caitvi #revolutionary girl utena #utenanthy #juriori #writing #yoohankim

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tallowfallow · 2 years

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Steddyhands Prompt:

A little bird with a cute kerchief has let Edward and Stede in on a little (incredibly well known) secret: Izzy is in love with Edward. After a little soul-searching and a lot of reassuring kisses, the captains begin a new mission. Mission: Make Izzy Our Boyfriend. (Edward calls it 'Operation Miob' which is pronounced 'me-ob'. Stede does not approve and believes they should spell out the initials each time)

Which at first goes great, even if Izzy is a little confused on why his distant captain and bastard other captain are spending so much time with him. He even starts... well, he doesn't want to say enjoy because really, who can enjoy hours of tea parties and reminiscing on the old times and play-fighting? Izzy can.

No, he... tolerates it. That's a better word. He tolerates them now.

And one night, Stede comes up to Edward and says Opertion Miob is nearing success. He's so excited that he says the acronym like a word, rather than spelling it out and he doesn't even notice. They decide it's best for Edward to go and seduce Izzy back to the cabin. From there, Stede will confess his willingness and they'll all fall into bed together and cuddle until the sunrises, the end :)

Except when Edward finds Izzy in the storeroom, he gets so riled up that he forgets all the fancy words he and Stede had scripted and just goes straight for the kill. He grabs Izzy and starts kissing him, holding onto him like he might die if he lets go and at first, Izzy is reciprocating.

At first.

But then Izzy shoves him off, wipes his mouth and tells Edward to go fuck himself for doing this to not only him but to Stede. You see, that time of Izzy 'tolerating' Stede's attention, he's grown a bit... fond of the man. He's starting to see why Edward was obsessed with the man, even if he refuses to admit it aloud. And while at literally any other fucking time before, this dalliance would have been welcomed with open arms, all Izzy can think about is how devastated Stede would be if he found out.

So he tells Edward off, cursing him out for betraying Stede's trust and trying to hurt one of the best men Izzy knows (and yes, Izzy says this out loud) and I'd he doesn't shape up and realize what a good man Stede is, he's going to lose him. So he's going to march back to the fucking Captains' quarters, tell Stede what's he's done, beg for forgiveness and promise to never do it again.

Edward is speechless and Izzy takes this as refusal. So you know what? Fuck it. Izzy may be Edward's right hand man but he's not a coward. He's going to Stede himself and he'll accept whatever punishment that Edward gives him for it but he is not going to let this stand. The only way relationships work is if all parties are truthful with each other.

So Izzy grabs Edward's arm and all-but drags him to the Captains' Quarters (surprisingly there is little resistance). And once he finds Stede, he immediately tells him what's just occured.

He's about to launch into a small tirade about trust and truthfulness when Stede brightens considerably, thinking that Edward's seduction has gone without a hitch. He stands up and walks over to Izzy, silencing him with a simple kiss.

Izzy's brain stops working.

Behind him, Edward is tearing up and trying to (unsuccessfully) hide it. He says 'Stede, babe, he says you're one of the best men he knows.'

And Stede rewards Izzy's compliment with another kiss. Edward huffs and says that Stede's hogging Izzy and grab him back for his own kiss. Stede scrunches up his face and says, oh well, I didn't get to kiss him for that long! No fair!

After a few rounds of this, when they finally let go of Izzy, he just looks between them before he says, "...okay." and lets them pull him towards the bed.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #edward teach #steddy hands #steddyhands #fic prompt #fic idea

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your-neighbor-in-the-northblue · 6 months

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╰┈➤ ❝ [One Piece Masterlist] ❞

Oneshots / Drabbles

Tequila Sunrise - Franky x Reader

Little Devil - Luffy x Reader

Guests - Mihawk x Reader

The Explorer - Goddess!Robin x Reader

Airplane - Rodger x Reader

Devotee - Usopp x Reader

Coffee? - Platonic!Nami, Usopp x Reader

Headcanons / Reactions

One Piece Girls As Tweets

Strawhats As Tweets

Sharing A Room With Nami And Robin

Being Roommates With Bartolomeo and Cavendish

Strawhats When They're Drunk

Kid Pirates With A Sick!Reader

Zoro With A Scientist!Reader

Zoro, Sanji, and Nami Reacting To You Breaking Down In Their Arms

Monster Trio + Ace and Shanks With A Reader Suffering From PMS

Coward Trio With A Barbarian!Reader

Supernovas in a Modern AU

Garp, Koby, and Helmeppo With A Pirate!S/O

#one piece #one piece masterlist #op masterlist #masterlist

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sarcasticsra · 2 years

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Now: imagine you’re Hob, and you meet a fey so stunningly poised, a true gem, in your eyes, of their court. You think their magnificence is only further enhanced by the fact that they, too, understand what it is like to serve others, to work so that others may enjoy the majesty of the Bloom. You share an unexpectedly tender moment, alone in the forest, and then it ends abruptly, and you are unsure as to what you have done.

This uncertainty is only further exacerbated when you are challenged to a duel by their assistant, and even once it is over, she refuses to tell you what offense you have committed. It seems logical to conclude that your foolhardiness in expressing any tender sentiments to someone so majestic was an insult that could not stand. As you are reminded by your superiors, you are a blunt instrument. That is your purpose.

Then you see them transform at the tea party, the lovely elven form fading away to reveal them as they truly are: a resplendent, breathtaking owlbear, eyes kind, nervous. You stumble over your own feet, marveling at the splendor of them. Their magnificence truly knows no bounds.

You realize, then, what an arrogant fool you were, to think anything you did or said impacted their thoughts in any way. They simply had their own inner worries to focus on. As if a humble goblin such as yourself could even begin to factor into any of their considerations at all.

And in the hedge maze, as you turn away from the scent of peonies, you know you are something else, even worse than a fool: a coward.

At the tailor’s shop, you remind yourself that you are an idiot, insignificant to their mind, but you remain enamored by them, the glory of their beauty such that it could inspire a sunrise to jealousy. They don’t say much when the conversation turns to deriding the Court of Wonder, and you are moved, wishing only to comfort them, as they describe their complicated feelings toward their court. You understand them. You know that isolation.

When they tell you that you were used, that it seems as though no one else in the Goblin Court has given any concern to your needs, you feel the coldness of the medal in your hand so keenly, stunned even as you know they are correct, unable to offer any reproach to their words. This wondrous fey before you is like none other you have met, and you are unworthy in their presence. You hurriedly give them your medal, rushing to the door, hearing but not heeding their insistence that you protect yourself.

At the masquerade ball, when the fireworks explode above, your only thought is of them. You act so rashly, ungentlemanly, placing your hands on them without permission, but their response is kind, gracious. You can scarcely believe it when they show you their empty dance card, and you feel the breath leave your lungs when they ask you for yours. You meet their eyes, feeling the magic in the air, and you eat your card, so that their name and their name alone will ever be the one it bears, as close to you as you can keep it.

You dance, and you dance, and you dance again, and even when you muck it up with your typical oafishness, they seem to enjoy it, to enjoy you. You are spellbound in their arms, and when they ask you what the P stands for in your name, you can only whisper it, a secret just for them. They smile, lifting a peony from their ensemble, and place it behind your ear, as if in exchange. For the first time in your life, you feel cherished. You feel pretty.

Their kindness this evening is a gift you will be grateful for forever. They have given you a glimpse of possibility, of what it might be like to be... loved, and it is as beautiful a dream as they are.

Reality, of course, returns the following morning, with your new promotion and your new assignment, and after your conversation with BINX, you think it is no wonder you are so easily cornered by Prince Apollo, as true a scoundrel as you’ve always suspected. You flee, taking substantial wounds for your trouble, but you do find the others, them included. They ask you if you’re hurt, and you try to assure them, but your answer seems to upset them, and you realize you must have looked a fright. Wounds are nothing to you if you may be of service, but of course someone so kind would be concerned. They ask you again about your own wants and happiness, and you do not know how to answer. There is no alternative to obligation, is there?

They simply wish you happiness before they leave, something in their demeanor... dampened, and Lady Featherfowl quite understandably assumes you’ve been stabbed once again, this time right through the heart.

At the theater, when the message from the Court of Sea Foam comes through the blossom, you are frazzled, moving to find more information, and the confirmation of your terrible suspicion feels like ice in your veins.

You are a fool. You’ve known it all along. Of course a fey so wondrous and glorious would not lower themself to entertain a lowly goblin like you. Of course they would not truly care about your wants, your needs. What you took as kindness out of obligation to the Bloom was nothing more than calculated cunning, expertly wielded to keep you off guard, to dissuade you from your mission. You’ve been tricked, made a mockery of, and so easily, too. It mustn’t have taken them much effort at all, to make you feel as you did--as you do.

You confront them, knowing you will be unable to fully conceal the effect they’ve had on you. Even now, in the moonlight, in their red-rose dress, they are stunning. They speak of love as the basis for their actions, as though the damage they have dealt to your court is irrelevant, as though your duty, your service, is irrelevant. You know now their actions toward you were a charade, but still it stings. You thought you understood them. You thought they understood you.

And then they tell you they love you, and you are caught, frozen, mouth agape, as they explain how much they love you and how much they care, that they’ve professed their feelings and did not receive a response. They explain why they turned away from you in the forest, that you inspired their glorious unveiling, and in that moment, your mind reels, and you feel as though you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

#acofaf #acofaf spoilers #battlemaster of ceremonies #okay so the rue POV made me want to write hob's lol #this one is a bit longer but he's kinda wordy so I guess that fits #I JUST LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH #this poor broken goblin who just needs at least an ounce of self esteem and a hug #he thinks it was all a trick and it's so sad :(#he thinks no one could possibly care for him #least of all someone as amazing as rue #hob you are loved and I will fight the entire goblin court on your behalf I swear #hob's relationship with service and his court is deeply fucked #why do I have so many feelings about a bugbear and an owlbear and their complex emotional bonds and traumas #why is it not next Wednesday yet #a court of fey and flowers #dimension 20

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allbeendonebefore · 26 days

Text

Casual Cruelty

Happy Monmonton Day gang.

So, I don't write anything other than comics like, ever, let alone writing for a dedicated ship event because what even is that. I may chicken out and expunge this from the earth because it's cringe as hell but we'll see. I wrote this literally on my phone any time I was waiting somewhere without wifi or late at night when I couldn't sleep for some reason over the past, like, idk year and a half? I started with the title and went from there.

This is a (canon?*) story featuring Edward and Étienne, friends with benefits, in some indeterminate time period in the late 20th century in Montreal. Ed struggles with a lot of internal strife that almost wanders into the territory of self harm, but not quite. Lots of pining and seemingly unrequited feelings. Some drinking but nothing excessive, and just a tiny bit of bad French. There's nothing particularly unsafe for work although some undressing happens and Ed has very low standards in his fantasies. So, without further ado...

---

There were a lot of things that were likeable about Étienne Maisonneuve. He was attractive, naturally, though it was more how he carried himself, curated himself than anything else. One would look from his dark, carefully coiffed curls to the loud and erratic patterns on his clothes into his bright green eyes, peeking over a sunrise of long lashes and an amused smile, and one would gasp in genuine shock as he nonchalantly revealed how his older, taller, more handsome brothers would comment on his various shapes and sizes with caution or contempt, that he needed to tone his body up or his attitude down. Who would tell Étienne of all people that he wasn't enough? Too much, perhaps.

Edward, naturally, liked the coiffed hair and the loud prints and especially the green eyes. He was (silently) pleased that Étienne was not particularly tall (so they were generally at eye level), and whether Étienne could fit into his jeans one way or the other didn't particularly bother him (as Étienne, whether there were comfortable handles at his sides or whether you could cut your hand open on his hip, always chose jeans that were probably a little too small).

It was Étienne's unconventional physique (and his unconventional physicality) that Edward liked because Étienne was always changing, he could barely be held in his own skin. When Étienne reached out for him, which was often, it was all Edward could do to hang on for the ride. And it made him feel that, even with ten years of medication and self hatred and complete lack of control over his own body, perhaps he could become something desirable too. Even if only for a moment.

But it wasn't Étienne's appearance that was particularly occupying Edward's thoughts, even if it was rather pointedly occupying his lap and flashing a gleeful grin towards the other occupants squished tightly together into the booth. It was what he was saying, and the conjectures of Meaning that Edward's mind was trying to keep up with.

"And so I couldn't pretend like I hadn't seen him, I mean, how fucking cowardly!" (The others tittered encouragingly, not wanting to miss the blow by blow, while Edward busied himself with a cluster of little triangles printed on Étienne's shoulder and tried to pay attention and not think about how he himself was a fucking coward more often than not.)

He missed the details about the confrontation in his concentration.

"But I said to him, maybe if he wasn't a biphobic de crisse de-"

The altercation rapidly being sketched in Edward's head, at least, was full of expression and colour and electricity. Étienne had run into (an acquaintance? An ex? An old flame who had burned him one too many times, who had made him swear off love for good?). One (Étienne?) was on their way in, one heading out of the (cafe? diner? dispensary? trading post? dep?). Words were exchanged, the fur flew, Étienne naturally emerged victorious (pleased? bitter? wounded?). However it had felt in the moment, clearly amongst attentive friends it was a savourable challenge and good humoured.

Edward was convincing himself it was something he had taken that made the details slip through his brain like earthworms through wet mulch. Surely it was down to some substance that made his stomach clench, not the fact that he had heard some version of this story from Étienne enough times to wish he hadn't. Étienne confronts the weak-minded conservative. Étienne dashes any hope of salvaging a relationship against the rocks. Étienne pierces the heart of the next poor sap who dares to remind him he ever had one of his own, just because he can.

This is how Étienne is and has always been, Edward reminds himself as he calmly takes a sip of whatever Étienne has pressed into his hand (he can't taste it). What he thought he read from him over the years was projected onto ink and tears that had long since dried, delusions of childish fantasy. The person in his lap was more real, carried more weight, than whatever scrawling Edward had been trying to interpret since before he was literate.

"Eddy?"

"Mm?"

"What do you think?"

Edward stared at him stupidly. Was he supposed to tell him he'd done the right thing? That his casual cruelty to the poor sap who just wanted to pay his bill and go home was his sexiest quality?

"The drink."

Edward weighed the question.

"It's okay."

Peals of laughter rippled forth and jostled Ed from his position, clearly the wrong answer.

"That's Eddy for you, always a polite word. A true Canadian," Étienne teased as he slung an arm around Edward's neck.

Edward flushed. The only thing more embarrassing than not paying attention was being caught out as undiscerning, uncultured.

Back home, he would have leaned into it, but here... The insult would have to slide off his well-oiled armour. He managed a grin, almost as if he meant it, and took another sip.

---

His guard was still up even after they stumbled up the metro steps, and as he leaned his head against the bus window away from Étienne's shoulder. It remained so even after the front door closed behind them and Étienne had pirouetted away with their coats and boots.

He excused himself to try to settle the emotional soup in his stomach in front of the bathroom sink before Étienne had a chance to pin him in place. For someone who was so easy to be around, Étienne had a way of making him feel uneasy.

Ed's malaise was chronic and ebbed in like a tide; Étienne was mercurial and his mood shifted sharply and unexpectedly. It was in Edward's interest to deal with himself first rather than risk Étienne misinterpreting him, or worse: feeling responsible for him.

Maybe he'll ask if I'm alright, he thought as he completed his routines. Maybe he'll ask what took so long, or make some joke about getting lost that will lighten the mood enough for me to tell him.

Tell him?

Edward caught his own inquiring eye in the mirror as he dried his hands and swept away the ring of droplets around the rim of the sink. Tell him he didn't perform these little gestures out of the traditional guest-host relationship? That he wanted something impossible?

He leaned on the counter unsteadily, somewhere between faking being sick and being sick.

Here came the tears. What the fuck did he want? For Étienne to knock the door off its hinges and rescue him? To wipe the sick off his face and tuck him in? Or would he rather be back home, imagining becoming the latest villain who dared to try to make E. M. fucking Maisonneuve commit?

This, he reasoned, was the alcohol. Clearly he was simply a sad drunk and the only thing for it was to brush his teeth, splash his face enough to hide any tear tracks, and sleep it off.

He caught himself eyeing the tub in the mirror. It wouldn't do any good, acting on that impulse. Imagining the slip, the fall, the impact and the shout was already giving him a headache. Even if the idea of being exposed, broken, and cradled was appealing. Christ-like, even... he managed a smile. He would find that funny.

Where might his host have got to? Ed doubted he was awaiting him with bated breath. He would surely find him bored, asleep waiting for him on the couch. Or perhaps he had already moved on to amuse himself elsewhere. He dried his hands, flicked off the light and peered down the hall.

There was no sign of life from the living room, but he heard running water. Étienne trying to wash the taste of the evening out, no doubt.

Edward cautiously hovered at the edge of the kitchen, a dimple curving despite himself. Étienne, of all possible things, was furiously washing the last of a generous array of dishes.

"You clean up well, Maisonneuve," Edward gave him an exaggerated once over, smiling at the large amount of water Étienne had somehow spilled down his front in his haste, revealed as he twisted around to acknowledge Edward's presence.

"I was hoping you'd take a little longer, you aren't supposed to know how much I had left to prepare for you and how little I'd done," Étienne smiled and turned back to rinsing the last few stragglers hiding beneath the suds.

"The illusion of your carefree bachelor life is shattered," Edward mock sighed. He leaned against the wall, unable to answer the impulse to help. Somehow, finding Étienne this concerned over it was so...

It was like a dream, watching this private moment. Étienne fiddling with the cap on the dish soap, scrubbing a particularly displeasing spot, nails scratching over the towel. One might even mistake him for mortal, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans after fumbling around in the dishwater for the plug.

Edward's heart ached sweetly. He couldn't have everything he wanted, but he could continue to savour this tart hurt for a hundred years more. Whatshisname de Biphobe was missing out.

"Effortless." Étienne grinned, scrunching his face in mock satisfaction that blossomed into nothing short of a genuine smile as Edward met his eyes.

"Your secret is safe, I'm nowhere near sober enough to remember your kitchen as anything but spotless," Edward twirled unsteadily out of the doorway to prove his point.

"I'm sorry for that, Eddy," Étienne laughed and reached out to catch Edward's fingers and complete the clumsy flourish. "You flew five hours only for me to find you the worst drink in town."

"I thought you knew this city," Edward's eyes and his resolve crinkled up like tin foil, he couldn't help but interlock their fingers.

"I'll make it up to you," Étienne's gaze sunk briefly, his smile rose.

"Mm? I dunno, I may be ruined for trying new things forever."

"Perhaps I find bad things on purpose," Étienne grinned maliciously. "Get the worst out of the way so that you tolerate the rest. Or that you appreciate my favourites."

"I fly out five hours to "tolerate" the farce of national unity at work, I don't "tolerate" you," Edward looked away from Étienne's face and back down to studying his shirt pattern, dabbing at the damp spots uselessly with his hands and causing Étienne to try to wriggle away.

"What are you doing?" Étienne whined, "It's cold!"

Edward dropped his hands abruptly as Étienne took the opportunity to return the favour, poking and prodding Edward against the wall.

"You're doing, it wrong," Étienne paused, laughing briefly between words, angling for his next attack. He looked up to see Edward's worried expression, which was disturbing enough for Étienne to straighten up and meet his gaze.

"Oh, come on Eddy," he stepped in closer and started playing with the collar of Edward's shirt, "You've barely smiled since you got here. Are you not having fun?"

Edward gulped. He hadn't been, but Étienne knowing this was exactly the opposite of what he wanted.

Then again, what other reason did he have to come out here? Their entire relationship for around two decades seemed to balance on Étienne as his personal concierge of fun, legitimate or otherwise.

"Has something happened?" Étienne's brows knit, eyes searching.

"No," Edward recovered. "No more than the usual bullshit."

Étienne looked unconvinced for a moment, but he expertly shifted the tone.

"I'll help you forget all about it." Étienne, clearly plotting something, grinned wickedly as his arms shot out to pin Edward's to his sides.

"What are you-" Edward flushed as Étienne slowly pivoted him back to the door frame.

To his surprise, Étienne released him as quickly as he had caught him. He grinned over his shoulder at Edward, "You were in front of the fridge."

Reaching in for what he was looking for, he added, "There's a jar in the cupboard on your left, please. And I'll also need a bowl and two mugs."

Edward blinked at him stupidly before retrieving the dishes, opting to use what he could find in the cupboards before turning to the freshly washed items by the sink. By the time he had found the jar, he heard a curious hissing sound and nearly dropped the thing when he figured out where it was coming from.

Étienne's electric kettle was soon whistling merrily, and Edward finally brought himself to comment while Étienne reached for the offered bowl.

"Seems you aren't about to burn the place down," he laughed weakly.

"Ha, no, it took some courage for me to try it out but so far it's worked like a charm and expanded my repertoire significantly. I can make all sorts of things: oatmeal, noodles..."

Edward's heartstrings nearly snapped with the strain. He really needed to heighten his standards. The thought of Étienne preparing cup noodles for the two of them should not be attractive. He had to look away before he started imagining him ruggedly heating water over a campfire.

"And the powder?"

Étienne handed him a spoon from the drawer as he fumbled for whatever he was looking for. "Cocoa. I've been experimenting with my own blend," he replied as he triumphantly pulled a beater out from where it had been wedged in the drawer. Slotting it into place with a satisfying click, Étienne turned up the dial and his hand mixer roared to life.

Edward spied the carton of whipping cream next to the bowl and everything fell into place.

Étienne, catching his eye as the mixer powered down, winked teasingly. "Don't worry, I've made extra for later." He handed Edward one of the beaters and could barely restrain his giggles as he popped off the other and brought it to his mouth.

The cold cream did little to help the first blush creeping up Edward's neck and ears. The sour taste did.

Étienne choked on his beater. "Oh, Eddy, no... I swear this was good yesterday," he frantically tried to grab the other beater from Edward.

"It's not bad," Edward spun away with a smile as he finished licking up the cream. "Better than that first drink you gave me, anyway."

"Eddy, you'll make yourself sick-!"

"It isn't that far gone, honest. If it really bothers you, put some plastic wrap on the bowl and we will cook with it tomorrow. Whipping cream is a decent butter substitute, and it'll taste much better than this heated."

Étienne looked at him with amazement for a moment before he hastily followed Edward's instructions. "Where do you learn this stuff?"

"You've been around three centuries and you don't pick this stuff up?"

"I pick it up," Étienne leaned against the fridge door as he closed it, hands behind his back and a sly grin on his face, "off a plate. With a fork."

"How do you survive?"

"Much better now. You're a life saver, I mean it."

Ed turned his attention to the hot chocolate, saved from spoiling, to distract himself from thinking too much about what exactly he meant. Picking it up, he glanced warily at Étienne who gave him an encouraging nod and smile.

The bitter cocoa, the sweet sugar, the hint of cinnamon... Everything had been smoothly whisked and there was even a kick of chili at the end. Étienne's smile grew as Edward's eyes widened.

"It's good. I like it." Surely he could come up with a better compliment than that.

Étienne didn't seem to mind his awkward bluntness, smiling into his own mug without breaking his gaze. "You see, I may be a fuck-up, but things eventually turn out just as I intended."

Edward said nothing, focusing on the cocoa and not the story of the evening. Of course, Étienne Maisonneuve, conquering hero. Always.

The companionable silence as they drank was unbearable. Edward quickly broke it.

"This might be the first hot meal you've ever made for me." He meant to muster a smile, but must have forgotten.

Étienne blinked in surprise. "Not so," his eyes narrowed in concentration. "You remember I made that... the roux, with the peas and corn?"

"Rubaboo," Edward supplied.

"Rubaboo! Now, I could make that at some point, surely. And far more meal-like than this."

Edward didn't want to think about old times. He didn't want to think about his childish thoughts or his naivety and he didn't want to think about the self satisfied glow in his chest that Whatshisname de Biphobe would never, could never know Étienne as long or as well as Edward did.

He didn't want to think about sacrificing almost two hundred years by ruining their relationship and becoming the next poor sap to be discussed over one of Étienne's outings.

Suddenly, the weight of his escape from home settled between his shoulders. He put down his empty mug unsteadily into the sink.

"I have to pass out." He was too tired to try to be anything but his blunt, boring self.

"Of course," Étienne smiled, setting his own mug down and fluidly steering Edward out of the kitchen.

"I'd just brushed my teeth," Edward moaned pathetically.

"Mhm," Étienne flicked off the light behind him.

"It's like 6:00 AM in my head and I just got here and I'm boring and tired, and-"

"And drunk."

"And drunk. And not fun." Edward hiccupped weakly for emphasis.

"Where to?"

"Yours. I won't be able to sleep with Rocket Richard staring at me."

Étienne caught him by the shirt before he could collapse on the bed. He quickly unbuttoned it for Edward and held it back, letting gravity do the rest. Edward fell with a soft sigh, eyes closed.

"'Tienne, peux-tu..." For some reason, it was easier to ask for something in French.

"Bien sûr." He didn't see the smile on Étienne's face, but he could hear it. He felt well practiced hands undo the belt and button at his waist; he then half-heartedly tried to wriggle free.

"Et peux-tu me cuisiner," Edward murmured. "Demain."

"Qu'est-ce que tu voudrais, Édouard?" He felt the denim peel off his legs.

Edward was silent for a long time, drifting off, grasping for the right word. "Oatmeal," he said.

He struggled to hang onto consciousness. Though he couldn't keep his eyes open, he heard Étienne laugh. Seconds later, or maybe a few minutes, he heard the clink of a cup set against the nearby night table.

Even nearly asleep, a wave of guilt lapped at him. It wasn't so long ago that he could keep up with Étienne, that he could be fun, almost without pretending. Now Étienne was tucking him in and keeping him hydrated, like a child, or an old man.

"J'm'excuse..." he mumbled.

"Ahh, Eddy. Toujours le 'Canadian'." Étienne teased, a mocking melody on the English. Edward felt the warmth from Étienne’s cupped hand, mussing his hair gently. "Bonne nuit, mon chum."

There were a lot of things he loved about Étienne Maisonneuve. He loved how he never took himself, or anyone else, too seriously. He loved how every time he fucked something up, he would find a way around it or through it. He loved his warm dishpan hands and the solid press of him against his back. He loved the way he was causally cruel, biting and acidic. He loved when his smiles met his eyes and when his eyes met his.

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END

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*It's canon in the sense that they are immortal personified cities but it's only "canon" if you accept it as such. I try to position myself somewhere in between @randomoranges' fluffy candy writing and @quatschmachen's angsty torment writing I guess, so today you get a little of both.

#projectcanada cities #monmonton day #it is the monmonton #pc: edmonton #pc: montreal #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #hapo writes #if you saw me accidentally post this two days early trying to fix a typo #no you didnt <3

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