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signanothername · 8 months ago

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Why do you like Killer?

*Cracks knuckles* get ready

I don’t like Killer, I fucking LOVE HIM

He’s my number 1 fave au sans and has been for a very long time

Now to be clear, I’m talking about canon Killer here, i have mixed feelings about some fanon interpretations, some are good and i genuinely love them, others not so much

That being said, let’s actually talk about why i love my beautiful amazing wonderful son <3333

(All art used in this post is by Killer’s creator: Rahafwabas)

The very first hook for me is his very concept, the mere idea of a sans basically agreeing to go on a killing spree after so many genocide runs is just *chef’s kiss*

Killer knew it was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t, yet he did

Killer doomed himself by his choice, he could’ve stayed as “sans” but he chose to accept Chara’s offer, yet his choice came to be after he saw no point in refusing anymore (important addition and a correction here)

The canon comics had Killer saying that he’s the way he is cause he gave up, he said “you won, you’re the reason I’m like this”, he’s been on so many genocide runs that he felt a little part of him die each run, only to give up and go on said killing spree

It’s interesting how the player is a big part of Killer’s story, cause whether Chara was involved or not, the player is the root cause of his suffering

But what i love the most is that regardless of his backstory or reasons, Killer’s actions led to their inevitable consequences, and it forever changed him

The biggest change? His very soul, it went from a normal monster soul to his signature target soul, infused with Determination, something that supposedly hurts monsters, it’s almost like his soul was infected with it, and you can see how it physically affects him with the black liquid that constantly comes out his eyes, nose and mouth, and even at times, that sludge is too much that he chokes on it

And the amusing yet tragic parallel? Killer aimed to “feel something new” by his genocide runs, only to end up not feeling anything at all, at least at his default stage 2

Which brings me to the concept of his soul’s stages

I love Killer’s stages so so much, it’s such a beautiful unique and wonderful concept

Killer’s individual stages are sooooo intriguing to me, it shows Killer in a different light each time depending on which stage he’s in, stage 1 is the closest he is to being “sans”, the closest to he used to be, he can feel emotions and is generally back to his more lazy bones attitude, as well as his ability to actually show sympathy, and feel the pain he’s always in, but what’s interesting is that regardless of the fact he’s the closest to his old self in this stage, it’s still so clear that Killer isn’t really “sans” anymore, that no matter what, he truly had changed in a way that can never be reversed, a point of no return, even when Color saves him, cause his new habits? His fears? His pain? His trauma? They can never be taken away, Killer has to live with the scars of what he experienced

Stage 2 is who he’d become, he can’t feel anything at this stage, emotions nonexistent, and his nonchalant behavior towards himself and others is most apparent here, a parallel I like to think of is that Killer’s inability to feel anything at all is almost like prolonged sensory deprivation, when you’re deprived of sensory input/ simulation for long periods, your brain needs compensate, and so it does its job, Killer’s soul prevents him from feeling so he resorts to other methods (usually very self destructive) to compensate for his lack of emotional capacity

I also really really love how that especially during stage 2, Killer isn’t trustworthy, cause in stage 1 you can actually trust him to an extent, in stage 2 Killer’s actions, behaviors and mindset are completely unpredictable, but not because he’s random, cause he’s actually extremely calculated, yet regardless, his carelessness when it comes to his own life and other people’s lives is dialed to an 11 here, so he could either choose to kill/attack or simply stay and listen

we even get an actual in depth look at how Killer’s mind works in one of the canon comics, in which Killer contemplates whether to attack Dream or not as he listens to his own stages in his head, one of which tells him to Kill Dream, while the other tells Killer to talk to Dream first

How Killer comes to a final decision on whether he attacks or not is something I believe his calculated mind makes depending on the situation and the pros/cons of what act he chooses, Killer is pretty smart, he knows when to let his trigger happy self out and when to settle down

Stage 3 or the “crazy stage” is the stage in which he’d attack anyone in his way whether friend or foe, we unfortunately don’t have much canon info regarding this stage, but that ain’t gonna stop me from analyzing the shit outta it (and talk about how i perceive it)

I like to think of this stage as the combination between stage 1 and 2, yet it’s almost like his soul can’t truly decide on which stage to settle on and by extension founding stage 3 as a separate stage by itself, Killer becomes extremely unstable at this stage, his soul moves rapidly and it’s obvious he’s in pain cause of it, whether that pain is just emotional or both physical and emotional isn’t really clear, yet i’d like to believe it’s both, and i feel like Killer’s capacity to attack anyone at this stage is related to that pain, and something I really love to believe is that Killer can’t calm down enough to settle back to stage 1 or 2 unless he either wears himself out by fighting someone, or he’s left alone to his own demons long enough to pull himself together, if he were to be forcefully restrained during this stage, it would only serve to make it worse and prolong the time he stays that way (cough something i may or may not have made a quick comic about but never shared as always vjvjvjj)

Not to mention, one of the canonical responses Killer gives when asked if he’s ok at stage 3 seems to make Killer alternate between answers he wants to give between saying he’s “fine” and “i don’t know” which makes sense, Killer isn’t stable at all, it’s almost like his stage 1 self and stage 2 self are fighting over who gets to talk (stage 2 seems more dominant)

Yet the fact Killer is able to answer and comprehend his surroundings enough at this stage is very intriguing to me, cause it shows how much Killer is able to handle/endure (which is A LOT cause damn) and not only that, but it also gives us a very clear difference between this stage and stage 4

As for stage 4?? Woooh boi, it’s the stage I like to call “plunging into darkness”

We also don’t have much canon info about this stage, but one of the things i find interesting is the fact Killer deliberately keeps it a secret from everyone, when he tells Color about his stages, he only tells him up to stage 3, never bringing up stage 4, only for Chara to sneer at Killer that he shouldn’t keep it from his new BFF

It’s obvious Killer himself is very uncomfortable with the subject of stage 4, it’s apparent that it’s a stage that he rarely gets to, but it still bothers him enough to not want to even mention it, which makes sense, cause the comic we had of stage 4 shows that Killer gets to that stage when he’s reminded of all the murders he committed, and unsurprisingly, when he’s reminded of his brother, as what triggered this stage is actually a memory of Papyrus telling Sans to “see a puzzle”, only to be followed by memories of screams of anger, fear, and hatred of those he killed immediately afterwards, stage 4 is heavily related to his trauma

Not to mention it’s clear that when Killer gets to stage 4 he blacks out, he’s completely unaware of anything he does during this stage, and is only left to deal with the aftermath when he gets back to his senses, the fact it’s also a stage that seems to be “getting worse” is something that Killer definitely seems to hate

It sometimes makes me think whether Killer had gotten into trouble cause he killed someone Nightmare wanted alive while at this stage, cause with how he keeps it a secret, I’d assume Nightmare would be unaware of it for a while (comic idea perhaps >:) )

But y’know what’s better than talking about the stages?? Talking about Killer’s personality, behaviors and trauma

Killer can’t distinguish between what’s real or not, and it’s obvious he sometimes sees the world in the third person, as in he’s not completely there at times, not to mention the amount of voices he hears in his head, from his stages talking to him to hallucinations of Chara, Frisk and Papyrus, and oooh boi does he hate these hallucinations, the past obviously haunts Killer and it’s something he tries running away from constantly, yet he can never truly run from it when it follows him everywhere

Killer has a smile on his face most the time, but his attitude changes especially when Chara is mentioned, or when he’s reminded of his past in any way, he literally avoids food that reminds of his past life as “sans”, he freezes up at certain phrases such as “best friend” (something i also made a comic about that i never shared chchhchc)

He just absolutely hates to be reminded of the person he used to be, of all the things he used to have, cause in truth? They were all taken away from him by his own hands, only to be then forced to work under Nightmare, who only ensures that he never finds peace of mind

And the sad part? Killer let’s all those things hurt him, he lets Nightmare have his way with him, he lets Chara torment him, cause he thinks he deserves it, and most importantly, he deluded himself into believing that this is what he wants because it’s what everyone else wants, because it’s what the player wants

Killer even sometimes tries to force himself not to feel anything, cause come on, since when does he feel anything at all?

Killer, to put it bluntly, hates himself, and he thinks that his suffering is the Karma of what he’s done, and even at one point, he was going to erase himself out of existence cause he believed that’s what he deserved, as in Killer thought of himself as unworthy when it comes to Papyrus, that his brother doesn’t need him, that his brother is better off without him, hell he even tells Color that he needs to kill him if he ever reaches stage 3, it’s an obvious “ i want someone to put me outta my misery” attitude

Killer feels hopeless, and so he lets himself suffer thinking he can’t ever find peace or hope again

Yet the interesting part? You’d never know that Killer hates himself unless you’re a being of emotions (Nightmare and Dream) or someone who’s perceptive enough to notice Killer’s self-loathing like Color, that’s how good of an actor Killer can be, you’d think he’s a cold emotionaless killer but the truth only shines to those who actually can see through his act

Killer just has that amazing character depth and his story is genuinely so unique and beautiful, cause you in his story you can find details of other details within the details vhvhvjvj

All that? Mixed with really adorable little things like his love for cats, his silly attitude, his nonchalance with Nightmare, his capacity to be social with whoever, and his friendship with color? That is why I love Killer Anon <33333

#this got long so i put it under read more cause i have some mercy #Anyway Rahafwabas deserves best character writer award fr <3333 #anothers ask #ano saves asks #killer #killer sans

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 6 months ago

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Indefinite hiatus

I was toying with writing up a long post about what running this blog has meant to me over the years and why I'm stepping away for the foreseeable future, but that feels too dramatic for what's really just me saying "I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year". So, I'll just say I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year.

Okay, actually I have a bunch more to say, but it'll be under the cut.

Politics sucks. And paying attention to it, even in the reduced way I've been paying attention to it over the last few years, is hard. You end up spending so much of your supposedly free time thinking about things you can't change, getting mad about things you can't change, and getting depressed when the people who can change things just keep going in the wrong direction. Even when good things happen, it's just a matter of a few days before something bad happens once again. And vice versa. It's an endless cycle of hope, despair, resignation. Rinse and repeat, and triple speed that cycle during an election year. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of spending every other year worried about what's going to happen on one day in November. I'm tired of hearing a piece of news and automatically composing a post about it or running through 20 different responses I might give to asks I might get about it in my head.

Everyone I know who doesn't pay attention to politics (or at least doesn't run a social media page dedicated to it) seems to enjoy their live a lot more than I currently do. Which sounds way more dramatic than what's actually going on, which is mainly that I want to get to a place where I just don't care. I want the world and its problems to flow off my back instead of weighing it down. I want to stop thinking about what people on the internet might say about something I haven't even posted yet. And that can't happen while I'm tied to this blog. So I'll be staying away from it for at least the rest of the year.

I did have a good time with this blog. I've met a bunch of really awesome people, some who are sadly no longer with us (RIP Blue), and some who I think will carry on the "fight" way better than I ever did. This isn't an admission of defeat, or pessimism about the election. Even if Trump wins, and I truly think he will if we have a fair election, I still won't be back this year. But I'll still vote and I'll still be proud that my silly little tumblr blog had an impact on some people's lives. I may not have the reach of a Tucker Carlson or a Glenn Beck, but I've gotten a lot of messages from people who said they changed their minds about an issue, or even politics in general, because of things I said, and that counts for something. If you guys take anything away from me, I want it to be this: Even the smallest impact matters. It doesn't matter if you only ever reach one person and then stop, reaching that one person is enough. Changing one vote is enough. Changing one mind is enough.

To all my mutuals, you guys are the best. I truly hope you have wonderful lives and I'm sad I won't get to see your names on my dash everyday anymore. To anyone I've ever followed or reblogged from, I couldn't have had a blog without you, so thank you. Yes, even the leftiod psychos, XD. To everyone else, find your own balance and never give into despair and never listen to people who tell you not to try. Even a failed effort is still more meaningful than sitting back and mocking people for trying to improve even the smallest thing about themselves or the world around them.

I won't be logging back in after I post this, so any messages or asks you send, I won't see. I'll still be active (or as active as I ever am) in my discord, so feel free to join there if you want to. It should still be my pinned post, but if it isn't, I'll edit this with a new invite link.

And that's all I've got to say for now.

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accio-victuuri · 3 months ago

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for some reason this second section of songs are making cpfs go wild 👀

unlike the first set, which i think could have their cpns of their own but was really more of social/life commentary on xz’s side. these next ones, are superior. atleast to me. we don’t have the 3rd set yet so i can still be wrong. and i mean sweets aside, the 3 songs released today are instant favorites. i expect people to make bjyx fanvids with lighthouse as the bgm please do not disappoint me. lol.

what we first noticed was xz posting the qq links to the songs using a photo (p1). in it, you clearly see the hands of the watch point to 10 and 5 which is his bday. it made us remember all those times they showed off their watch with questionable numbers visible ( p3 and p4 because xz is not subtle at all ) . coincidentally, a 10:05 timed watch (p2) was also seen in wyb’s most recent NYE performance.

shut up you two. please. 😬

the title track of this section — DRIFTING’s concept sounds like it’s someone exploring an unfamiliar environment. which made is think of wyb’s recent show exploring the unknown. the choice of words and imagery he wants to show is also interesting. take note that xz wrote this song.

Lying on an island and waking up

The top of the cliff, tear it off and go with the flow.

while it’s pretty obvious that this means more than going out in the wilderness in the literal sense when you take the song as a whole — the fact that it fits what wyb has recently done is 😏. can someone please make a video too of ETU with drifting as the background. it would be perfect. thank you. to me, this is xz drawing inspiration from wyb’s experience and combining that to his own “exploration” and drifting in this world.

NOW TIME TO TALK ABOUT THE TRACK LIGHTHOUSE. Personally, it’s my fave and i think it’s the most romantic and bjyx-y of them all. 💕

first of all the imagery of a lighthouse and the sense of it being that only light you see amidst the storm. that no matter what happens, he can look at that. the timing of yibo posing with a light for GRA is making me overthink too. lol. also wyb’s album cover for twenty was a light bulb thing. that kind of symbolism really speaks to them.

and as for the lyrics lemme just leave this select lines for us to all cry about ok?

For whom to move forward? Even if there are thorns under my feet, I'll stay with you till the end.

Where is the storm now? I go against the wind I'm barefoot and go through the crowd…. An island in the dark, We must also go against the tide.

Run towards the lighthouse in the darkness. Even if it rains heavily, Let's go, let's go, we have to go home. Just live hard like this. I only see the lighthouse

The lighthouse in my heart. It will never go out.

songs can be interpreted in different ways and can go in a totally different direction from what the lyricist intended but i am understanding this in a romantic sense. not the cutesy kind of romance, but the one that has hardships, is not easy, but you know that you have each other. the lighthouse in his heart will never go out. in reality, their life is not easy. but they are stronger together. even if there are thorns under my feet i’ll stay with you till the end.

I CAN’T EVEN. AHHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭

and oh, talking about the rain and going home. more on the going home part, people are bringing back favorite line among cpfs from an LRLG contribution. supposedly said by yibo.

When I called, I said it was fine, but as I talked, it became like

🟢 : I want to go home. Come and take me home.

I was kinda nervous for track 8 cause that Bo. LOL. the song is also good but i don’t see much CPN from it. or maybe not yet. lol. i just hope they get to have time where they can have night walks together 🌙

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #accio victuuri translation

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elyvorg · 5 months ago

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The Most Significant Change in AAI2’s Official Localisation (according to me)

Ace Attorney Investigations 2 finally has an official localisation! This is kind of mind-boggling to those of us who played the fan translation and have loved it in that form for years, never expected an official localisation to happen, and now suddenly have to get used to everything about it being Just Slightly Different.

Having played the official localisation in full, I can say that for the most part, it’s even better than the already-excellent fan translation! Most of the lines have just a little bit more colour in them now, and there’s a bunch of small nuances that went over my head before that are emphasised better in the new version. There are some lines I prefer in the fan translation, but they’re vastly outnumbered by all the lines I prefer in the official version. All in all, strongly recommend fans of the fan translation to check out the official version in some form.

However, among these minor lines here and there that I prefer in the fan translation, there is also this one small but much more significant thing from the fan translation which is not present in the official version. I happen to care about this small-but-significant detail a lot, so here is a post explaining exactly why this is a Thing that Matters (to me, at least).

(This will mention major spoilers for the game! Do not click the readmore unless you have experienced the entire story of AAI2 in some form.)

The Thing is this: In the fan translation, Simon refers to his friend as “Knightley”, all the time. Meanwhile, in the official localisation, Simeon always calls him “Bronco”.

Now, I get why the localisers did this. It’s a Japanese cultural thing – in Japanese, it’s common for even close friends to address each other by their surnames, and indeed, Sim(e)on referred to Knight(ley) by his surname in the original Japanese game. This is usually changed into friends using each other’s first names in English localisations, because it feels strange in English to see two close friends addressing each other in what feels like a distant and formal kind of way.

(For example, in The Great Ace Attorney, Ryunosuke and Kazuma addressed each other by their surnames in Japanese, and this was – very correctly – localised to them using each other’s first names in English. It would feel wrong to an English speaker for these best friends not to do that, even though they are still characters from Japan.)

So it just makes sense as the obvious localisation choice to have Simeon refer to his friend with his given name, rather than his surname.

However! In this particular instance, I firmly 100% believe that this was the wrong decision.

See, Simon calling Knightley by his surname in the fan translation isn’t just an awkward holdover of a somewhat more direct Japanese translation – it actually means something. It’s a subtle hint that Simon doesn’t actually see Knightley as the friend he supposedly is; he’s distancing himself from his friend by talking about him in this more detached way.

This is subtle enough that it isn’t a spoiler, either! On my first playthrough of the fan translation, I never batted an eye at Simon using his friend’s surname. Some people in English-speaking countries do just prefer to go by their surname, even to their friends – particularly when their first name is kind of awkward. It felt perfectly natural that Knightley might prefer to be called just that even by his best friend, instead of “Horace”, which sounds somewhat old-fashioned and dorky.

(And this would go double, surely, for someone whose first name is freaking Bronco of all things. It’d make plenty of sense that he’d rather be called Knight!)

Knightley himself probably didn’t even question it. I imagine Simon would have called him Horace while they were kids at the orphanage, but then when Simon reappeared in his life years later after his disappearance and was calling him Knightley instead, Knightley probably shrugged and figured, yeah, Horace is kind of a dorky name, he’s not a kid any more, “Knightley” is way cooler. (Especially with his obsession with chess, not to mention his whole white-knight complex towards Simon.)

The biggest reason why this means something is that Simon calls him Knightley almost the entire time, with one single exception. In the flashback to their impromptu nighttime meeting in the prison, in which Simon knows he’s about to get his “friend” killed and this is the last time he’ll ever see him, the final thing he says to him is, “Goodbye, Horace.”

He uses Knightley’s first name, for the only time in the game’s present. And so, precisely because he’s used his surname every other time, this simple line becomes an achingly telling sign that Simon still cares about his best friend despite everything, despite the fact that he is literally getting him killed. It’s like he’s remembering the happier times they had being friends at the orphanage before everything turned sour, like a part of him wishes they could still have that, and it breaks my heart.

(This is the same in the Japanese, too – he uses his friend’s given name, which is a sign of extremely close friendship in Japanese and would have even more of an impact to Japanese-speaking players.)

This implication isn’t there in the official localisation, because it can’t be. Not when Simeon calls him Bronco all the time anyway, even when he’s revealed his true colours and is no longer pretending for the sake of Edgeworth and company. Which means that he simply did call him Bronco the whole time, even after they reunited, even while secretly wanting him dead. In that context, using the name Bronco when saying goodbye to him in the prison means nothing in particular. It’s just the name he always uses.

…Okay, granted, it’s not like that flashback scene has no emotional weight in the official version. It still is Simeon coming to talk to his friend one last time when he doesn’t really need to, which still means a lot on its own. But the final line itself isn’t a particularly notable part of it. In the localisation, it’s “Goodbye, Bronco. …And farewell.” The added “farewell” mostly just serves to make it obvious that he knows this is the very last time they’ll meet, but I suppose there is at least something to the fact that you wouldn’t usually say that to someone you didn’t care about. I don’t think it hits nearly as hard as calling him Horace for the first and only time in twelve years, though.

It seems like either the official localisers didn’t notice the significance of the given name in that line there, or they did notice it but they decided that localising Simeon to use his friend’s given name the rest of the time, like localisers normally would, was worth losing the impact of that line. And I firmly disagree that this was worth it. There’s nothing inherently wrong about Knight going by Knight even to his best friend, even if it might feel a little awkward in principle, and the emotional impact of the final thing his best friend says to him would have absolutely made up for that.

#ace attorney #ace attorney investigations 2 #ace attorney investigations collection #ace attorney investigations 2 prosecutor's gambit #aai2 spoilers #simeon saint #simon keyes #bronco knight #horace knightley #ramble #localisation #this might also have something to do with how it breaks a plot point in one of my aai2 fics #but shush i would care about this detail anyway; fic or no fic

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twilightprince101 · 2 years ago

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Let's be careful before labeling Wally or Home as "The Villain" of Welcome Home

Or anyone for that matter imo

Listen, I can completely understand why people would go to that conclusion. "So Below" and the eerie vibe that Wally gives off in his obsession don't exactly give either a flattering light (I know there are also the art pieces on Clown's personal blog, but I'm not counting anything that hasn't been officially released yet)

But whenever someone labels a character who is acting weird as "the villain," it puts a bad taste in my mouth. At the end of the day, characters in fiction are real people with motivations, so labeling one as "evil" or "the villain" can sometimes erase that complexity. And after the most recent update, we know that Wally has A Lot of very, very complicated feelings about the situation.

Before I get into that though, I wanna point out something that Clown himself has said describes the brand of horror that "Welcome Home" gives off to themselves personally. Click here for the link to the post.

"My home doesn't feel like home anymore."

That line sticks to me pretty hard. There's a pervasive feeling of unfamiliarity, unreality, that exists in the core of the story itself.

I think we see, firsthand, Wally experiencing this in the latest updates. In all of the hidden Bug/Answer secret videos, we see a familiar pattern. We get some sort of scene of two other characters talking, a scene in whatever universe they call home, until at the very end one of the characters addresses Wally (who was apparently there the whole time) and the video glitches out.

A key part that not a lot of people seem to realize though is that these videos are from Wally's perspective. See the above picture with Wally's hands. In every scene, Wally is present and was supposedly taking part in an activity (in the above one, helping Poppy with knitting), before the video started playing.

Whenever I saw these videos I had that same feeling that something felt. Different. The interactions felt like scenes you would see in the animated/cartoony aesthetic we'd see from the various art pieces, it doesn't feel like it's "on set/TV" to me. They're moreso just intimate glimpses into their lives. But they're shot in the real world, and that feels. Wrong.

This is very likely the same feeling that Wally's having in that moment. "My home doesn't FEEL like home." It's like he's disassociating, having a brief episode of that unreality feeling. Those bouts of strangeness don't go away until, like clockwork, someone says his name and the video ends, snapping him out of it.

Do other people in the neighborhood also feel the same way? Maybe, but we don't know. What we do know is that Wally, whether or not he tries to explain this to others, feels isolated by this sensation. "My neighbors are only neighborly until they know I'm different in a way they can see."

The only other person he likely shares this feeling with? I'd take a guess that it's Home. Nearly every time Home has been featured, Wally has been there, close. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the only physical puppets/props we’ve seen of the cast are Wally and Home.

According to this post by @eldritchravens, Home is the only other person who talks directly to Us, the viewers. That's probably why they're so close, because they're the only ones who can truly confide in each other about this.

"So does that mean Home is manipulating Wally?"

Again, I really don't think that's the case. I don't wanna call people villains quite yet. Besides, we see (or well, hear) Home and Barnaby have a conversation together, and from how Barnaby reacts it's fairly casual.

This shared feeling is likely why Wally is so obsessed with us, including the Restoration Employee. They seem to be sharing a similar sensation to Wally's bouts of unreality, in the fact that it seems they're the ONLY one who doesn't remember Welcome Home being a thing. They seem to be one of the few things that Wally (and maybe even Home) consider to be "Real." Hence their obsession with "seeing" us.

"Isn't this Wally or Home manipulating the Employee though?"

Maybe, I don't know. We don't really know much of what's going on right now, we're only getting glimpses. For all we know this could be a side-effect of Wally/Home trying to reach out. For the time being though, I want to keep my own expectations in check. I'm choosing not to label Wally, Home, The Restoration Team or anyone as a "villain" until something definitive comes up.

It is very, very likely that Wally is going to be doing something more dangerous later down the line (or maybe even is doing so now). But if he's doing anything, I get the feeling it's more out of desperation. He wants something to quell this feeling inside of him, this pervasive sense of unreality, and to connect with something he feels is "real." And, for better or for worse, that thing is us.

This whole thing isn't to bash on people for speculation or theorycrafting, I personally think speculation is very healthy! But it's still important to remember what the core of this story is going to be. We're only seeing the very start of the story right now, and we don't know what'll happen down the line. It's useful to keep that core idea at the center of our speculation so we can have reasonable expectations going forward.

As for me? This doesn't feel like a story with villains. I don't think he'll pull a Monika from DDLC and start gaining a kill count, but if something does happen to the rest of the cast, my money is that it'll happen completely by accident, and he'll regret it. Hard.

#scopophobia #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home wally #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #Restoration employee #welcome home restoration project #twi talks #doki doki literature club #ddlc #welcome home july update #eldritchravens #the playfellow exhibition #poppy welcome home #poppy partridge #partycoffin #welcome home clown

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scary-grace · 8 months ago

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 9) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter 9

“Mitsu, come on. Mitsu, don’t.” You tighten your grip on her arm and pull harder, even though she’s drunk in six-inch heels and could topple over if the wind blows the wrong way. “It’s not worth it –”

“You hear that, you piece of shit? It’s not worth it.” Mitsuko’s imitation of your de-escalation tone isn’t as good as Tenko’s, but it sounds pretty bad when she’s using it to jeer at a couple of sidekicks. “Just like you and your fucking friends decided that my best friend’s life wasn’t worth it –”

“Mitsu –”

“When you left her under an apartment building one of you knocked down for six fucking hours!”

“We weren’t even there,” one of the sidekicks shouts at her, and Mitsuko spits at him. “Ugh! You crazy bitch –”

You suck in a breath, and so does everybody else. This fight has drawn a crowd, and you see at least one phone out, one camera on. Someone’s just caught a hero on camera cursing out a grieving civilian. You see the hero blanch. He turns towards Mitsuko. “I didn’t mean –”

“No, you said what you meant. You’re all the same,” Mitsuko sneers. “So big and bad, except when it counts. Fuck you.”

Mitsuko has a flair for the dramatic, even when she’s so drunk she can’t see straight. She turns to you. “Come on. Get me out of here before I puke on my shoes.”

You hustle her off down the sidewalk, leaving the crowd and the heroes behind, cursing yourself for letting this happen. It was your job to keep an eye on Mitsuko tonight, to keep her out of trouble, and now she’s on camera starting shit with a hero. Now that you think about it, so are you. Nobody’s going to remember you, not when Mitsuko’s there, gorgeous even with supposedly waterproof mascara running down her face, but it’s not a good thing. There are probably a grand total of eight people who think it’s a good thing, and you’re on first name (or code-name) terms with all of them.

Mitsuko comes to a stop, doubles over – then straightens up. “I need to pee,” she says. “Let’s go to Kamino. I want to pee on that statue.”

“Kamino’s a long way away. You sure you want to hold it that long?”

“Right. I should find a place to pee now,” Mitsuko says. “Then by the time we get to Kamino, I’ll have to pee again.”

There’s no way you’re letting Mitsuko get filmed peeing on a statue of All Might, no matter how much of a kick your new friends would get out of it. You take a deep breath and pull out the big guns. “Is this really how you want to honor Hiro? You know watersports weren’t her thing.”

Mitsuko snorts, then grimaces. Stomach acid in the sinuses will do that. “There’s only one way to honor Hiro,” you continue, “and you know what it is.”

“What is it?”

“Bone Endeavor, film it, and use the tape to ruin his life.”

Mitsuko bursts out laughing. Then crying. You’ve been seeing that a lot lately, anywhere and everywhere – on friends, patients, strangers, and more often than not, on your own face in the mirror.

Japan is reeling from the Kamino incident. You’re not watching world news, but you’re pretty sure the world is doing the same – it’s not every day that a country’s Number One hero goes down on national television. The wreckage of Kamino Ward has already been resurfaced, some of the remaining buildings reinforced but the rest knocked down to create a nice big concrete square for the Kamino Memorial Park, complete with a big statue of All Might. The All Might statue takes up most of the space. The walls featuring the names of the victims are off to the sides. New names are still being added every day.

The windows still haven’t gotten fixed at your clinic, and in addition to a dust and street debris problem, you’re having an animal problem. You chased a bat out with a broom and wound up needing rabies shots, which left you well-equipped to deal with the raccoon that showed up a week later. You’re working a lot, for a lot of reasons. It keeps you out of your apartment during the day or night, leaving it safe for the League’s use. You need the money. And as long as you’re busy with work, with the extra classes in trauma treatment you’ve started taking, or trying to keep Mitsuko from self-destructing, you don’t have to think about what happened at all.

Kazuo’s been keeping busy, too, but your other friends don’t have that option. Mitsuru’s job was in Kamino, in a business that was destroyed, and he doesn’t have a new one yet. Ryuhei hasn’t worked in a while, courtesy of his record, and Yoshimi’s so sick from her treatments that she can’t work at all. In spite of that, Mitsuko’s still the one you’re most worried about. She was closest to Hirono. She’s always had a lot of anger – like you, except you bury it so deep that you sometimes forget it exists. She doesn’t forget. And right now she thinks she doesn’t have anything to lose.

You and Mitsuko were supposed to have a wild night on the town, but after throwing up in two trash cans and one alleyway, Mitsuko’s ready to go home. You’re ready to take her home, too, and you let her sling one arm around your shoulders as you shuffle along. “You know, I can’t work it out,” she mumbles in your ear. “Kazuo I understand, but you? It’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“How calm you are,” she says. “Like, right from the start. You love Sho and Hiro just like we do, but you’re – calm. Don’t tell me you got religion about it.”

“No,” you say. “I’ve just done this before.”

It’s not untrue. You’ve lost a friend before, but you didn’t cope well at all, and even if you had, this isn’t the same. You’re miserable about losing your friends, but mourning them visibly isn’t something you’re allowed to do. Not when you’re responsible. All you can do is try to fix it, or at least try to make sure Mitsuko makes it home in one piece, without passing out somewhere or clawing a hero’s eyes out with her acrylic nails.

As you’re helping her unlock her apartment, an idea occurs to you. “Hey, why don’t you come with me to Yoshimi’s appointment tomorrow? I have to go to work, so I can’t stay long, but it would really make her feel better if you stuck around with her at the clinic.”

Mitsuko looks lukewarm on the idea. “I don’t think she wants me there. I’m not very good at comfort.”

“How about just company?” you say, and she shrugs. It irritates you to the point where you play a card you shouldn’t. “Hiro used to.”

“Don’t guilt-trip me,” Mitsuko says. It’s quiet for a minute. “Fine. I’ll sit with her. This time. Then it’s back to you.”

“Sure,” you say. You’re pretty sure you can make it so it’s not just this time.

You say goodnight to Mitsuko, stop at a convenience store for supplies on your way home, and drag yourself into your apartment building. Before you unlock the door, you have to brace yourself. In spite of Tenko’s insistence that you aren’t left alone with the League, there have been at least a few times in the past three weeks that you’ve come home to at least one villain in your apartment.

After Tenko and the others left, after you went to Kazuo’s and stayed up all night, drunk and mourning your friends from under the weight of your guilt, the first thing you did was buy a whiteboard. You hung it on the back of your front door, and each day, you write your schedule on it, letting Kurogiri know what times you’ll be out, when it’s safe to bring villains over for a break. You can tell when they’ve been there, even if you don’t see them – things will be out of place, or food will have disappeared, or you’ll find a ton of black hair dye stains all over the shower. You don’t care that Dabi dyes his hair. You just wish he’d rinse the shower out afterwards.

Sometimes the villains leave notes for you on the whiteboard – Magne commenting on the tragic state of your makeup collection, Spinner apologizing for using the last dryer sheet, Dabi bitching about the neighbors and the noisy sex they’re constantly having in the bedroom that shares a wall with your living room. Sometimes they leave requests for you to buy stuff for them, along with at least some money to pay for it. The only person whose things you buy without asking for payment is Toga.

Everybody else takes things, or asks for them. The only person who leaves things for you is Tenko. As far as you can tell, he shows up exclusively during times when you’re supposed to be home, but for some reason or another you’re always out and about. The first time you know for sure he was here, you came back late and found a flower sticking out of an empty energy drink can on your kitchen counter. The next time it was a piece of your jewelry, with a note: Compress stole this and had Twice leave a copy, but Twice told on him. You need a jewelry box that locks. The third time it was just a note, and just three words, in Tenko’s never-got-past-kindergarten handwriting. I miss you.

You miss him, too. While you’re braced for villains every time you open the door, you’re always hoping he’ll be there.

There’s a villain in your apartment tonight, but it’s not Tenko – it’s Magne, who’s in the bathroom availing herself of your blow-dryer. She’s doing laundry, too, or she’s done it. You catch the unmistakable scent of a dryer sheet that’s gotten sucked into the lint-trap on the air. The smart thing to do would be to leave, but you’re tired, and it’s your apartment to begin with. You set down the items you bought at the League’s request on the kitchen table and sit down in a chair, your chin propped in your hand. You think about scrolling your phone to pass the time, but you don’t need to. Lately all you have to do is stare off into space, and your mind supplies enough uneasy questions to keep you busy for hours.

You come back to awareness when Magne snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Rise and shine, sweetheart. Is this for me?”

She’s holding up the three-pack of deodorant. “Yeah. It’s not the brand you asked for – I didn’t have enough money – but I smelled all the discount ones and picked the one that was closest.”

Magne uncaps one and sniffs it. “Close enough,” she decides. “What about the rest of this? Who wanted thermal socks?”

“Spinner. His note said you all are staying in a warehouse and it gets cold,” you say, and Magne nods. You glance over the rest of the things you bought. Some of them need an explanation. “The numbing gel is for Toga. She bit her cheek and there’s a sore in her mouth. Tell her not to eat anything too acidic until it heals. And these are – she knows what these are for.”

Magne nods sagely. “Oh, and these are for Compress,” you add, tapping a stack of cheap paperbacks. “He said he was bored. These should help.”

“You spoil us,” Magne remarks. She smells like your shampoo. And your body wash. “The boss is as bad as it gets. Who would have guessed that his girlfriend would be such a little saint?”

“I’m not a saint,” you say. She’s not the first member of the League to say that, but your list of sins is long enough already, and it’ll only keep getting longer. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I do wonder what the attraction is,” Magne continues, like you didn’t speak at all. “Guys like him – when they see something pretty and pure, all they want to do is ruin it. And then they don’t want it anymore. I wouldn’t get too dirty if I were you.”

“Thanks for the warning.” You see shadows flickering in your peripheral vision. Kurogiri’s here. “Take this stuff with you, okay? And tell everyone I say hi.”

“No problem.” Magne gathers up the results of the supply run. “Any other messages you want me to send? To the boss, maybe?”

“Nothing I’m telling you,” you say, and she laughs. A moment later she vanishes through the warp gate, and you’re alone. It’s past midnight. There’s really nothing for you to do except go to sleep. Or try to.

You’ve been having a hard time sleeping since Kamino. In some ways, it reminds you of how things were after you stumbled into the ruins of Tenko’s house. The images that won’t leave your head. The questions that chase each other through the darkness – did it hurt, did they know, were they scared, what happened next? There was guilt when it was Tenko’s family dead, the stupid thought that useless, quirkless, five-year-old you should have stopped it somehow – but it’s nothing like the guilt you feel now. Kamino’s death toll stands at nine hundred and eight. Magne said you were a saint, but you aren’t. No saint, no good person, lets nine hundred people, some of them her friends, die.

You’re on hour three of trying to sleep when the shadows in the far corner of your room begin to flicker. It’s another warp gate, and you watch, your heart in your throat, as someone emerges from within it. “Tenko?”

Tenko doesn’t look as surprised to see you awake as you thought he’d be. “I can’t sleep either,” he says. His face is unobscured by the hand. He gestures awkwardly at your side of the bed. “Can I –”

“Yeah,” you say at once, trying not to act like this is the best thing that’s happened to you all week. “For sure.”

Tenko’s wearing gloves already. He kicks off his shoes and strips off his shirt, then climbs into bed on the far side. You’re expecting him to stay there, but instead he reaches across the bed to pull you closer, and once he’s got you, the contented sigh that exits his mouth sets every inch of your face on fire. “That’s better.”

You manage to wiggle your arms free, folding one against your chest and wrapping the other around him. His skin is dry and warm beneath your hand, against your cheek. “Hi, Ten.”

“Hey.” Tenko hugs you closer. “This is your fault. I can’t go back to sleeping standing up after that.”

“That’s because humans aren’t supposed to sleep standing up. I have no idea how you did it for – however long you were doing it.”

“Too long, I guess.” Tenko yawns. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“The people I worked on after Kamino. I keep seeing them.” You keep seeing your friends, too, although there you’re restricted to whatever your imagination can conjure. “Other stuff, too.”

“Like what?”

Like what Tenko’s house looked like the morning after, when you ran into the wreckage. What blood and tissue felt like under your bare feet. You still don’t know if Tenko knows what happened to his family, how much he knows, how he got from his family’s house into the clutches of All For One. “Things,” you say. When you’re able to raise the arm that’s wrapped around Tenko’s shoulders, your fingers encounter the ends of his hair, and you start fiddling with them, to the tune of another contented sigh. “It’s late. Try to sleep. I will, too.”

Tenko relaxes against you, asleep within moments. It takes you another hour at least.

You expect him to be gone by the time you wake up in the morning, but instead he’s still there, shirtless, with a terrible case of bedhead that you think is way too cute. He doesn’t want you to get out of bed at all, but once you do, he trails you to the kitchen, where you start making tea and setting out something for breakfast. “It’s too early,” he complains. “Where do you have to go?”

“I’m taking Mitsuko to keep Yoshimi company during her treatment, and then I’m going to work.” You think through your day and grimace. “And after that I have class.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“It’s my day off.”

“Good,” Tenko says. “Twice is bringing a potential ally. I want you there to meet them.”

Your stomach twists, and your appetite, already fickle on its best day, goes up in smoke. “Who are they?”

“Some small-time yakuza. They want prestige and we need money.” Tenko shrugs. “I’ll come back tonight and we’ll go together in the morning.”

“Okay.” Something about this conversation strikes you as funny, but you’re not sure what it is. It takes a second for it to click, and once it does, you’re laughing.

“What?” Tenko asks suspiciously. “What’s funny?”

“We’re eating breakfast and talking about our schedules,” you say, still giggling. “We sound so normal.”

You think Tenko will laugh, too. He’ll say something snarky, something derisive, about the whole concept of normalcy and moving in with somebody and having any kind of life within the boundaries of a corrupt society. Instead his expression takes on a strange cast. “Do you think we would have been?”

You almost spill the electric teakettle out of shock. “What?”

“If nothing had happened. Do you think we’d have ended up like this?” Tenko gestures around the room, then between the two of you. “Like – us.”

If the two of you had gotten to grow up together, what would you have been? You’ve asked yourself that more than a few times. “If nothing had happened,” you repeat. If Tenko’s family hadn’t died, if he hadn’t wound up with a quirk – or even if he had, and you’d lived across the street from each other in middle school, high school. “I think so.”

“Yeah,” Tenko says after a moment. “I think so, too.”

He doesn’t say how he feels about it, and neither do you, but there’s a distant look in his eyes, like his mind’s gone somewhere else, somewhere far from here. It doesn’t fade until you set a cup of green tea down in front of him. “So,” he says, looking up at you, “how much do you know about the yakuza?”

“Not very much,” you admit. “What do I need to know?”

Tenko gives you a brief overview in between bites of food, then starts in on the details. “The group Twice made contact with is called the Shie Hassaikai. Their leader goes by Overhaul, and he’s young – not our age, a little older. Twice says he seems genuine, but I don’t want us caught off-guard.”

“Which is why you want me there,” you surmise. “If things get heated, turn the temperature down.”

Tenko nods. “It shouldn’t. He’s coming alone.”

“Right.” You force down a bite of your breakfast, then another. “And I should bring the disguise.”

“Yeah.” Black mist begins to ripple through the air near the door, and Tenko swears. “Go away, Kurogiri. I’m not done.”

“It is Dabi’s turn. And according to the schedule, she will be leaving soon.” If Kurogiri could tap his foot right now, he probably would. “With haste, Shigaraki Tomura.”

Tomura swears again, then heads back to your room for his shirt and shoes. “I’ll be back tonight,” he says as he pulls them on.

“Me, too.” You wince as Kurogiri loudly clears his throat, then hurry forward to kiss Tomura goodbye. He’s frustrated. You can tell by the tension in his mouth, the way it takes too long to soften against yours. “Hey. I’ll see you soon, all right?”

Tomura nods once. Then he disappears through the warp gate. As he vanishes, you see him removing his gloves.

You’re alone in your apartment again, and the surge of emptiness you feel threatens to knock you off your feet. You’ll see Tenko tonight, which is good, but tomorrow, you’ll be with Tomura – Tomura and the League of Villains, in disguise like you’re one of them. To the head of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ll be indistinguishable from the others.

And speaking of the Hassaikai – you weren’t lying when you told Tomura you know next to nothing about the yakuza, but you know someone who does. It’s a good thing you’re seeing Mitsuko today.

“The Hassaikai?” Mitsuko repeats, when you ask her while the two of you are waiting for Yoshimi to finish her vitals check. “Where’d you hear about them?”

“A patient.” You aren’t technically lying. Tenko was your patient. At one point. “It wasn’t a name I’d heard before, so I thought I’d ask. In case there was a chance you knew anything.”

Mitsuko’s settled down a bit now, but in middle school and high school, she was in a lot of trouble – skipping school, getting drunk and using who knows what else, hooking up with older guys, sometimes for money or gifts or just to make whatever was going on in her head go away. Some of those guys were yakuza. A lot of them were. And Mitsuko always said they liked to pillow-talk.

She thinks about it for a moment, frowning. “They’re a small group,” she starts. “They’ve got a cross-country network, but there aren’t very many of them. The old head of the family was popular, but the new one isn’t.”

Huh. “Do you know why?”

“The family thing – it’s not a joke to them,” Mitsuko says. “That’s how the former head treated it. Not the new one. One of the guys I used to see – he was from another group, but I remember he’d talked to somebody who’d left the Hassaikai when they were both in jail. That guy said the guys in his gang were just employees now. And they were expendable.”

“So the new guy’s a shitty boss.”

“Try worse. He called him a monster. Said he was empty inside.” Mitsuko looks troubled for a split second. Then she shakes her head. “They all are, though, aren’t they? Yakuza, villains – well, maybe not that Shigaraki guy. He looks like he’s so full of crazy it’s a miracle he doesn’t explode.”

You keep your mouth shut with an effort. What would you say, anyway? Nothing convincing, not without giving away more information than anyone outside the League should know. Mitsuko gives you a curious look. “Did your patient get mixed up with them somehow?”

“I guess so.”

“Hopefully they get out fast. Those guys are bad news.” Mitsuko grimaces. “I’d know.”

She looks like she wants to say more, but then Yoshimi comes out of the check-in room, and the two of you had a talk about not upsetting Yoshimi more than necessary. The two of you turn to her. “I don’t know shit about this,” Mitsuko tells Yoshimi, sounding so much like her usual self that you’d never guess she was wasted and hero-baiting last night, “but you’re with me today. Anybody who gives you shit, they have to answer to me. And I’m not nearly as nice as her.”

She points at you, and you roll your eyes. The only reason you were nice to the one nurse who was even sort of rude to Yoshimi is because you didn’t want her doing something worse when your back was turned. Yoshimi smiles gratefully at Mitsuko. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she says. “We need to catch up. Some of the nurses here are cute.”

You tell them both goodbye and sneak out while they’re talking about the cute nurses. Mitsuko could do a hell of a lot worse than a cute nurse. Maybe she needs that right now. As weird as she gets when she’s in a relationship, almost anything would be an improvement on the self-destruct sequence she’s cycling through. Not that you’re any better. If Kazuo wasn’t too busy pulling together the official incident report on Kamino to take a look at what you’re doing, he’d probably say you were doing the same thing.

You don’t look it. You hold it together at work, checking in on your younger colleagues, supporting the older ones, keeping an eye on the mood with them and the patients both. It’s not a good mood. The rest of the country is ready to venerate All Might and cheer for his victory, but Yokohama was hit too hard. Too many people lost loved one, and too many of those people live in the other Japan with you. Nobody’s gone so far as to sympathize with the League of Villains, yet, but plenty of them are angry with the heroes. And plenty of them are saying it out loud.

The organization that runs your clinic is worried about the staff. Absentee rates are high, and people come to work in bad moods and leave in worse ones. Your supervisor is offering everybody extra time off so long as you take it in shifts, and each and every one of you who was on shift during Kamino is scheduled to meet with a counselor over your lunch hour once a week. You don’t want to do it. You don’t have a lot, or any, good memories of doing therapy as a kid. And this time, there’s something you’re actually guilty of.

But it’s a requirement, and you don’t want to make waves, so you slouch into the mailroom for your counseling session as ordered. Your counselor is rich – you can tell by her clothes and her jewelry – and a whole set of unkind associations spring into your head when you look at her. You try to push them away. If your contempt is oozing from between your teeth, there’s no way you’ll get through this without raising a red flag or ten.

The counselor greets you, introduces herself as Yaoyorozu Shizuka, and something clicks in your head. “Your daughter’s at UA.”

“Yes, my dear Momo! We’re very proud,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu says, even though you didn’t’ congratulate her. “She’s been through quite an ordeal – just like you and your coworkers have been. Why don’t you start by telling me where you were on that night?”

“At first I worked triage with the evacuees,” you say. “When the casualties arrived, I went to assist the doctors and nurse-practitioners.”

“And how long did you do that for?”

“Until someone kicked me out.”

Mrs. Yaoyorozu makes a note in her notebook. Her leather-bound, monogrammed notebook. “How do you feel about the work you and your coworkers did that night?”

If you try to lie, she won’t believe you, and she’ll push the point. You need her not to push. “I feel like we failed.”

“Why do you feel like that?”

“Because that’s what we did,” you say. “Five people died in the exam rooms back there. Two more died in the hospital later. We failed our patients, just like everyone else did.”

“Just like everyone else did,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu repeats. She looks puzzled, or she’s faking puzzlement. You really don’t care which. “What do you mean?”

Of course she’d ask that question. You can’t stop the derisive sound that escapes your mouth. “Let me see. This clinic failed by not being ready to handle a mass casualty event, by not having the necessary equipment to treat major trauma or the staff who know how to do it. The site commander failed by sending those patients to us knowing we couldn’t help them. The heroes on-scene failed by prioritizing helping All Might instead of clearing the route to Yokohama General, so the people they were supposed to be rescuing when they decided it was more important to help All Might could have a chance to survive.”

Mrs. Yaoyorozu is staring at you. Your face is hot and your eyes are prickling, and you sink your nails into the palm of your hand, fighting for control. “We weren’t the only ones to fail those people. We were just the last ones. All those people –”

You cut yourself off. Mrs. Yaoyorozu scrambles to recover. “It was far from an ideal situation,” she says. “It was never going to be possible to save everyone –”

“I thought it was,” you interrupt. “Isn’t that what heroes say they’ll do?”

You need to be careful. You sound like Tomura. But Mrs. Yaoyorozu is shaking her head, smiling indulgently, ready to explain how you just don’t understand that sometimes hard choices have to be made, and you lose patience. “Look, what are you even doing here? Is it just a hobby of yours to come here and minister to the poor unfortunates who weren’t born quirked or pretty or rich? This isn’t your city and we aren’t your people. We don’t need saving. We don’t want your help.”

“Don’t speak for your colleagues,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu says mildly. “You don’t need saving. You don’t want my help. Why not?”

You look blankly at her. “You’ve been through something traumatic,” she continues. “The whole city has, and those of you who responded directly to the tragedy haven’t had time to process what you experienced. That’s what this space is supposed to be for. If it would be best for you to process by expressing your anger towards me, that’s all right.”

“So you’re going to martyr yourself.” You don’t understand where the disdain in your voice is coming from. “Sit here for an hour, then go home and tell your maids and your husband and your butler about how the nurse at the poor-people clinic was so mean to you when all you wanted to do was help.”

She’s staring at you now like you’ve slapped her, when you haven’t raised your voice or sworn or even moved an inch in your chair. You’re using your de-escalation voice, but the context is all wrong, and even as you struggle to rein in your temper, you can’t stop yourself from turning her words back on her. “If that’s what would best help you process your savior complex, that’s fine with me.”

Mrs. Yaoyorozu holds your gaze for another few seconds. Then she ducks her head, writing frantically in her notebook. “Are you crying?” you ask her. The false concern in your own voice makes your skin crawl.

Her eyes are clear when she looks up. “Blaming oneself or others for the traumatic events or for what happened afterwards,” she says. “Check. Persistent state of fear, horror, anger, guilt, or shame – check. Persistent negative cognitions, such as “I am bad”, “no one can be trusted” – check. Do you know what I’ve just listed.”

“Criterion D of the PTSD diagnosis.” Kazuo tried this trick on you already, and you were a lot more likely to listen to him. “What’s your point?”

“I can see by the dark circles under your eyes that your sleep’s disturbed,” she says. “Whether that’s by nightmares or by ruminating on what’s occurred, you’ve met Criterion B. By verbally sparring with me you’re avoiding engaging with your own feelings about what happened – Criterion C. Disturbed sleep partially covers Criterion E, and I imagine if I asked you whether you startle easily, find it difficult to concentrate, or feel unsafe in most settings, I’d get at least one yes. But I don’t need a yes to diagnose you – the first symptom under Criterion E is irritable behavior and angry outbursts. What would you call this?”

She gestures at the space between you, and you sink your nails into your palm again. “I’ve spoken to your coworkers about you. They describe you as kind, supportive, calm – the person who smooths over conflicts, not starts them. This conversation is a symptom, a sign of what you’ve been through. It’s not who you are.”

But it is. It is who you are now – a person who takes a skill you’ve used to help people and twists it into a weapon, a person who backs someone else into a corner and goes for their throat, and the worst part is, you can’t pin this on your association with the League of Villains. Tomura’s not standing here feeding you lines. This was all you. What’s happening to you?

Trauma, Mrs. Yaoyorozu would say, if you asked what she thought. You know the real answer: Guilt.

It’s quiet for a little while. When you speak up again, your voice doesn’t sound like your own. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“I understand,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu says. You spend the rest of your lunch hour in silence, staring at the wall.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shimura tenko x reader #tenko shimura x reader #tenko shimura x you #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #x reader #reader insert #please hold

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genshinluvr · 2 years ago

Text

Lost and Found

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader (Neuvillette x Isekai'd!Reader x Wriothesley focused)

Summary: You and your boyfriends end up getting separated in the City of Justice, causing you to scramble all over the city searching for them, only to no avail. Two handsome and well-dressed men from Fontaine offer to help you search for your significant others.

Note: This is a spontaneous mini-fic for the two men from Fontaine :) I'll be posting another fic later today for Genshin and another fic later for HSR ^^ Since not much of the Genshin men in the harem appeared in this mini-fic; the tags will be centered around Neuvillette and Wriothesley ^^ I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 2k

You frantically run all over the City of Justice, searching high and low for your boyfriends. You all decided to visit Fontaine for the day, and when you looked away for about fifteen seconds, the twenty-five men managed to somehow disappear into thin air. It was supposed to be a relaxing day, but no. They all disappeared, and now you're running around the City of Justice like a chicken with its head cut off.

Because you're unfamiliar with the City of Justice, everything looked the same, from the architecture to the vendors to the people walking around the beautiful city ruled by the Hydro Archon. Their clothes are magnificent and breathtaking, but you're too worried about searching for your boyfriends that you barely have time to process and admire the things around you. As an outsider of Teyvat, you stick out like a sore thumb.

And since none of your boyfriends are from Fontaine, they should stick out like sore thumbs, too, right? Wrong. Somehow, these men manage to blend in no matter what they're wearing. Archons, you fear you might spiral and have a mental breakdown in the middle of Fontaine, searching high and low for your boyfriends!

"Excuse me, are you alright?" A deep voice interrupts your inner turmoil.

Your head snaps up to see a gorgeous, tall man with silver hair and blue streaks. He's dressed extravagantly in blue and silver. Dear, Archons. Even his beauty intimidates you. The man stops before you, gazing at you worriedly. Despite his stoic exterior, the worry in his tone eases your anxiousness. The mysterious man looks of high status, given by the way he holds himself. You gulp and look around the city nervously, your heart racing against your chest. Are you okay?

You clear your throat, nodding warily. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just looking around for my friends!" You squeak, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your trembling hands from the tall man before you.

The silver-haired man hums, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't seem to be fine. Are you, perhaps, lost? You don't look like a native to Fontaine. In fact, you don't look like you're from Teyvat," says the silver-haired man.

You're fine, you're fine! You'll be okay! You just need to relax and gather your thoughts because if you don't, you won't be able to find your twenty-five boyfriends in the City of Justice. Plus, how does one lose sight of a big group of people so easily? The silver-haired man continues to examine you closely while you're deep in your thoughts, eyes frantically searching around the city for a familiar face. So far, there's no familiar face in sight. Archons, you and the men should've planned a meeting spot in case one of you gets lost.

"Back off, Neuvillette. You're scaring them."

You peek from behind the silver-haired man, whose name is supposedly Neuvillette, to see a black-haired man with silver streaks in his hair. The man struts up to you and Neuvillette, one hand propped on his hips and the other running through his hair. Oh, Archons. More handsome men to deal with. How can you relax at a time like this!? Breathe, [Y/N], breathe! Don't hyperventilate, or else it won't end well for you. The black-haired man stops beside the man named ‘Neuvillette,’ sighing and shaking his head.

"Are you alright? Do you want to sit down by any chance? You look like you're about to faint," says the black-haired man.

You gulp and nod, letting the unnamed black-haired man escort you to the nearest chair. The man pulls the seat for you; you quietly thank the man and sit. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths to soothe your racing mind. The two men stand before you, gazing at each other while waiting for you to calm down and collect your thoughts.

"What are you doing here, Wriothesley? I thought you had business to deal with," Neuvillette mutters, gazing at the black-haired man with silver streaks in his hair.

Wriothesley chuckles, rolling his eyes. "I did, but then I saw you with this trembling person. I assumed they were shaking with fear because of how intimidating you are," says Wriothesley. "If they were, I don't blame them. I would be shaking in my boots, too, if I ran into someone as intimidating as you."

Neuvillette scowls at Wriothesley before turning to you. You're staring at them blankly, not saying a thing. How long have you been watching them bicker? Wriothesley clears his throat and smiles at you, sitting beside you while Neuvillette continues to stand with his arms over his chest. Archons, from this angle and with that look on Neuvillette's face, Wriothesley can see why so many people find the man intimidating.

You sigh, tapping your fingers on your knees anxiously. "The way you two bicker reminds me of my significant others," you murmur, looking away from Wriothesley and Neuvillette. "I wonder what they're doing right now."

Wriothesley does a double take, looking at you with wide eyes. "Pardon? Significant others? As in plural? There's more than one person?" Wriothesley asks.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you tuck your hair behind your ears, nodding. Neuvillette sighs, pinching the space between his eyebrows while Wriothesley continues to stare at you with shock. You don't know how much time has passed, but you're starting to wonder if the men knew about your sudden disappearance. You can call for Xiao, but you worry he's going to be as lost as you since he rarely steps into other nations that aren't Liyue (unless you dragged him along with you).

You stand up, dusting your pants. "I think a few minutes of sitting is enough for me. I want to continue to search for my significant others," you say.

Neuvillette raises his eyebrows at you. "You told me you were looking around for your friends, not significant others," Neuvillette says.

You clear your throat, nodding. "I said friends instead of significant others because I never know what people's reactions are going to be when they find out I'm dating more than one person," you reply nonchalantly. "Anyway, you two can continue your interrogation while we search for my partners, alright?"

Wriothesley and Neuvillette look at one another before nodding. The two men proceed to show you around the City of Justice while asking you about the physical description of what your boyfriends looks like. After introducing yourself to the two men, you told them your boyfriends are from many regions— from Mondstadt to Liyue to Inazuma to Sumeru to Khaenri'ah. Hearing you mention the fallen kingdom of Khaenri'ah, the two men stop in their tracks, gazing at you with interest.

"What's next? You're going to tell me you're dating an Archon?" Wriothesley asks sarcastically.

You pursed your lips and didn't say anything. Wriothesley blinks at you, then looks at the silver-haired man like a fish out of water. Wriothesley combs his hands through his hair before propping them at his hips, tapping his foot on the ground. You and Neuvillette stare at Wriothesley, watching the man trying to wrap his brain around your relationship with more than one person and one person being an Archon.

You look at Neuvillette. "I'm surprised you didn't have a reaction after finding out I'm dating more than one person," you murmur.

Neuvillette sighs. "As interesting as it is, I am in no place to judge," says Neuvillette, smiling at you.

Your eyes widen after seeing Neuvillette smile at you. You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile. There's no way you'd add another person to your growing harem. Especially with how Wriothesley reacted when he realized you're dating more than one person. Of course, his reaction is normal because who would date that many people aside from royalty way back then? As for Neuvillette, you don't think he'd be the type to share his significant other.

You sigh in relief. "Thank you, Neuvillette. Anyway, let's continue where we left off!" You walk off with Neuvillette following after you while Wriothesley stares after you, dumbstruck.

Wriothesley shakes his head, running after you. "Wait a minute, don't walk off now! You have things to explain!" Wriothesley exclaims.

The city of Fontaine is beautiful, and now that you're not alone in a foreign city, you're able to admire its architecture and scenery. The City of Justice is beautiful, and the citizens of Fontaine dress so elegantly that you almost feel out of place. While walking around the central city of Fontaine, Neuvillette and Wriothesley were giving you background information on the city that is ruled by the God of Justice.

"Who do you think will stick out the most out of everyone in that group?" Neuvillette asks, his eyes scanning the crowd.

You hum, tapping on your chin. "I would say Tighnari because his ears are bigger than Gorou's," you reply.

Wriothesley snorts. "Hey! It's not nice to make a comment on how big someone's ears are! Have your parents not taught you manners?" Wriothesley chides, nudging you with his elbow.

You open your mouth to retort but close them. You're not the best at describing things, and quite frankly, you don't think they'd be interested in your tangents regarding what each men (who are not human) are. And even if they were, you didn't want to bore them. You stifle your laugh at the thought of Wriothesley assuming Tighnari is a human male with giant human ears. A voice calls out to you from a distance. The chatter from the bustling crowd muffles the voice calling out to you.

"Does anyone hear that, or am I hallucinating?" Wriothesley mutters, sticking his finger into his ear while searching around for the voice.

Without missing a beat, Neuvillette says, "You're hallucinating."

Rapid footsteps approach you, and you're tackled to the ground. Your breath gets caught in your throat before being knocked out of your body. You let out a mix of a strained yelp and squawk. You look up to see the person that tackled you to the ground to see Aether and Heizou grinning at you.

Aether rests his head on your chest. "Oh, thank Archons! We finally found you!" Aether wails.

Wriothesley scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "You found them? Oh, please! It is us who found your poor friend wandering around aimlessly!" Wriothesley says, scowling at Aether and Heizou.

Aether and Heizou finally get off you, helping you up from the ground while smiling at you sheepishly. You take deep breaths, trying to fill your lungs with air. Archons, these men knocked so much air out of you that it's almost painful to breathe. Aether and Heizou steadies you while the other men approach the five of you with a girl in tow.

She smiles at you, propping her hands on her hips. "Ah! I'm glad to see you're in good hands! Your poor, poor boyfriends were scrambling around my city, searching for their lost lover," The girl giggles, turning to look at the other men with a devious smile. She turns to look at you with a soft sigh. "Morax and Barbatos nearly had a meltdown when they asked for my assistance to find you."

"Furina, please spare us the embarrassment," Venti sulks, waddling over to where you stand and hugging you tightly.

Itto and Childe sizes up Wriothesley and Neuvillette. The two men stare at Itto and Childe, raising their eyebrows at the duo before looking at one another from the corner of their eyes.

"These two look incompetent," Wriothesley whispers to Neuvillette.

Neuvillette presses his lips into a thin line and chuckles. "Perhaps [Y/N] likes them dumb," Neuvillette murmurs, earning a snicker from the black-haired man with silver streaks.

Childe narrows his eyes at the two men before him. "You know we can hear you, right?"

Wriothesley nods eagerly. "Oh, we know! We made sure to be loud enough for you two can hear us," Wriothesley grins.

Childe, Itto, Wriothesley, and Neuvillette glare at one another. You’re too tired (and winded) to step in to stop the four men from tearing each other apart. What’s important is that you and your boyfriends have reunited after getting lost in the City of Justice with the help of two handsome men from Fontaine and the Hydro Archon herself.

Note: Because this is a spontaneous mini-fic, I won't be tagging anyone. But I will be tagging people in my next posts since there are two more updates heading your way. My vacation is coming up soon, so the fics are going to be a bit shorter. I'm not sure how long the other fics are going to be while I'm on vacation 🤔 The links to my discord server are expiring in a few hours! I will be posting new temporary links to my server in the next two fics. If you like the server, you can stay longer. If it's not your cup of tea, then you can leave whenever. Anyway, To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Genshin impact x reader #Genshin impact imagine #Genshin impact fanfiction #Genshin impact fanfic #Wriothesley x reader #Neuvillette x reader #genshinluvr

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gojoulen03 · 1 year ago

Text

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

"MY DAUGHTER, THE DIVINE ONE"

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

A/N:

I'm saying this rn but this.. this blog is a literal mess. It's my first time posting this kinda uh.. yup. So I'm a little annoyed by it but I'm bored so I went through.. uh with it anyway..

I had an alternate version of this in Wattpad called 'Rose Thorns' lol. I'm still thinking of who will be the love interest for Y/n because this sht is similar to the usual SAGAU plot idk if I'm right though (correct me if I'm wrong lol).

Again, this is a mess. Idk if I posted this correctly.. but I tried anyway..

Sypnosis :

You are Tsukuyomi Y/n with a lovely daughter named Yuna. You've always dreamed of becoming a mother and decided to have one through artificial method (lol idk if that's real yet but I remembered a manga with that Soo YUp AND THIS IS FICTION so I had the power of making the impossible real here in this story LOL and yes you are rich in Earth cuz i said so ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)). You paid someone handsomely to give you the means to have a child without any sort of y'know lol- and finally had Yuna after so long of waiting.

You are deeply devoted to Yuna's well-being and promised to protect her no matter what.

But tragedy struck when you got involved in a car accident that claimed your life, leaving your daughter Yuna without her only guardian. Your own death left you feeling desolate and remorseful for not being able to watch your 5-year-old daughter grow up.

However, your journey took an unexpected turn when you found yourelf in a mysterious and unfamiliar world. You retained only hazy memories of your past life but resolved to forge ahead. Even in this strange new world, you couldn't let go of your fervent prayers for Yuna's safety.

You went on a journey in this new world called Teyvat. But what if your daughter follows you there - all grown up, so mature and with so many mysteries?

GENSHIN IMPACT X G/N! Reader

Warnings: Grammatical Errors, Lazy Writing, Possibly alot of errors again lol, MANY TYPOS idK, VERY OOC (I'mma not lie here), Y/n being the Cupid LATER lol, Yandere!Harem??? Obsessive Acolytes/Believers to the Divine One, MANY SIMPINGS ˛(ˊʙˋ)੭˒˒

CHAPTER 00

In the supposedly peaceful and beautiful world - Y/n, a beautiful God(dess) in a white robe and veil, had been engaged in a fierce battle to protect your city from marauding Gods. Your barrier stood resolute, deflecting attacks and safeguarding your people, but the more you fought, the more you felt your energy wane.

"Your majesty! Please, it's enough!" A voice was heard from behind. But despite the pleas of your beloved subjects to cease the battle, You remained unyielding, your bowstring singing as you sent arrow after arrow towards your foes. The Archon War had erupted unexpectedly, shattering the harmony among divine beings who were once friends. You couldn't comprehend why you were now locked in a merciless struggle for your nations' survival.

"You must be getting tired. How about resting now?" taunted by your enemy God, reveling in your weakening state. Undeterred, You glared back, refusing to back down. Your resolve was unbreakable; You were determined to defend your land until your very last breath.

"I will not! I will never back down until my last breath!" You yelled.

"Let's see about that, Goddess Y/n!" They said, as they were ready to launched another attack.

But just as you braced yourself for another attack, a familiar voice broke through the haze of battle.

"Ma/Pa.."

"Ma/Pa.. ma/pa.."

"Mama/Papa!!"

Startled, You gasped, your battle-weary eyes fluttering open. You found yourself in a small, warm room, and your attention was drawn to a tiny, innocent face—the face of your adorable daughter, Yuna.

"Mama/Papa! You're awake, right?!" Yuna's tiny hands shook you, urging you back to consciousness.

"Mama/Papa, it's time to wake up!" You blinked, the memories of your celestial battle fading into the background as you're fully awake now.

"Oh, Mama/Papa's awake now, dear Yuna," you whispered, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lifted your daughter into your arms.

Yuna's innocent eyes widened with concern. "Mama/Papa, you were making scared noises in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?"

You smiled, brushing a gentle hand over Yuna's cheek. "It was just a bad dream, my love. Mama/Papa's fine now." You marveled at the contrast between the dream's fierce goddess persona and the reality of your role as a loving parent. How could such a powerful being in your dream world be the same person who cuddled with your daughter each morning?

"Let's focus on happier things," You suggested, ruffling Yuna's hair playfully.

"Hehe, okay! Let's eat breakfast now, Mama/Papa! I'm hungry!" Yuna's enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your daughter's radiant joy. You dismissed the surreal images of your divine battle as a dream or perhaps the result of watching too many fantasy movies recently.

"What would you like to eat today, my little sunshine?" You asked.

Yuna's face lit up with excitement. "Pancakes, Mama/Papa! With strawberries!"

You chuckled, the remnants of the dream slipping further away with each giggle. "Pancakes it is, sweetheart. Let's make them together."

With a tender smile, You kissed Yuna's forehead. "And also good morning, my precious. I love you."

Yuna giggled, her laughter echoing through the room like music. "I love you too, Mama/Papa!"

Together, you both ventured into the kitchen, the aroma of pancakes filling the air as you expertly flipped them on the griddle. Yuna stood on a chair, her eyes wide with fascination as she watched her parent cook.

What had seemed like a fierce, otherworldly struggle faded into the background as you dismissed it as a fleeting nightmare. Perhaps it was the result of watching too many fantasy movies, you thought, trying to rationalize the vivid dream.

"Yeah, it must be a dream," You reassured yourself, embracing the reality of your daughter's laughter and the aroma of breakfast wafting from the kitchen.

"Mama/Papa, are you a superhero?" Yuna asked suddenly, her innocent curiosity sparking a twinkle in her eyes.

You paused, caught off guard by the question. You knelt down to Yuna's eye level, your expression tender. "Well, I might not be a superhero, but I'll always protect you, my dear. You mean everything to me."

Yuna beamed, her small hand reaching out to grasp yours. "I love you, Mama/Papa!"

"I love you too, my precious Yuna," You whispered, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

You prepared a hearty meal for yourself and for your precious daughter, Yuna, savoring the simple pleasures of your shared moments. As you both sat down to eat, Yuna's innocent chatter filled the room, momentarily pushing away the lingering thoughts of that dream you had earlier.

"Mama/Papa, what's your favorite story?" Yuna asked between bites of the pancakes.

You smiled, reminiscing about the stories you used to hear as a child. "My favorite story is about a brave god(dess) who protected their people from all the dangers of the world. They were strong, just like me, and they never gave up, no matter how tough things got."

Yuna's eyes widened with admiration. "Wow, Mama/Papa, you're like that god(dess), right?"

You chuckled, ruffling Yuna's hair affectionately. "I try to be, sweetheart. I'll always protect you and keep you safe, no matter what."

You only wished the best for your daughter.

That's all you need..

Those dreams probably meant nothing, right?

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, with You and Yuna sharing your lives in blissful harmony. You had put the strange dreams behind you, attributing them to a mere figment of your imagination, yet the memories of your battles as a god(dess) lingered, casting a subtle shadow over your peaceful existence.

It also arose so many questions..

Why do you have that dream?

What does it mean?

Is it a past life?

Why are you remembering it?

You're already happy with youe daughter. You don't want to be burden with a problem you don't even know about.

That was all just a dream anyways..

But one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found herself lost in thought on the porch of their cozy home. Yuna, now a bit older but just as radiant, skipped over, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"Mama/Papa, why do you sometimes look so sad?" Yuna asked, her voice tinged with concern.

You smiled gently, your fingers tracing the patterns of the wooden porch. "Oh, my sweet Yuna, it's just Mama/Papa's thoughts wandering. Sometimes, grown-ups think about many things at once."

"But you can tell me, Mama. I'm a big girl now!" Yuna insisted, her determination mirroring her parent's.

You sighed, realizing that your daughter was growing up and deserved to know the truth, or at least part of it. "Alright, my love. Mama/Papa had some strange dreams lately, dreams of battles and wars. It felt like I was someone else, someone powerful but burdened by the weight of protecting others."

Yuna's eyes widened in awe. "Like a superhero?"

You nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. "Yes, something like that. But these dreams were so vivid, as if they were memories from another life. It's all very confusing, Yuna."

Yuna reached out and held her parent's hand, her grip surprisingly strong for a child her age. "Mama/Papa, I think those dreams are trying to tell you something. Maybe you're meant to do something important."

You looked at your daughter, marveling at the wisdom hidden behind those innocent eyes. "You're right, Yuna. Perhaps there's a reason I'm having these dreams. I just wish I knew what it meant."

You couldn't help but hug your daughter. Just how caring and smart is this girl? This daughter of yours is too perfect to be yours. She's far too wise..

Even you can't come out with such an advice. But your 5 years old daughter could.

"You're so mature, aren't you, my love?" You said, as you kisses your daughter's chubby cheek who giggled in return. "Hehe! Because I am a big girl!"

"Yes, you are a big girl, love."

Though you couldn't exactly shake the feeling of being a powerful god(dess) in that otherworldly battle, your memories of an archon war still vivid, despite the comforting reality of your daughter's presence.

"Mama/Papa, can I ask you something?" Yuna's innocent voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Of course, my sweet," You replied, setting your daughter to your side to give your full attention to your daughter.

Yuna looked up at you with those big, curious eyes. "What were you fighting in your dream, mama/papa? Were you super strong?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the complexities of your dream world to a 5-year-old. "Well, it was just a dream, dear. In the dream, Mama/Papa had to protect something very important, just like how I always protect you."

Yuna nodded thoughtfully. "Like a superhero, right?"

You smiled, relieved at the simplicity of Yuna's understanding. "Yes, like a superhero."

"Cool! I wanna be a superhero too!"

"Study first-"

"But mama/papa!!"

"Just kidding~!"

But as the day went on, you couldn't shake the feeling that your dream held a deeper significance. The memories of the archon war and the title of "God(dess) Y/n" haunted your thoughts, refusing to be dismissed as mere fantasy.

That night, after tucking Yuna into bed and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, you found herself unable to sleep. You decided to indulge your curiosity and did something you hadn't done in a long time-you opened your laptop and began searching for information about archons and the concept of divine beings.

But you found no information about all the things you remembers in your dream.

Is it just.. a dream?

Lost in thought, you murmured, "God(dess) Y/n... Archon War... it all feels so distant yet so real."

Yuna, ever perceptive, approached her parent out of nowhere, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Mama/Papa, is something bothering you?"

"Ahh!" You almost fell down your chair when you saw your daughter standing next to you. Gosh! She's scary sometimes!

"Gosh, you scared Mama/Papa, love." You said, as you sighed in relieved that it was only your daughter. Yuna shrugged her shoulder before climbing into your lap and sitting comfortably.

"Why aren't you sleeping, baby? Didn't Mama/Papa tucked you in already?"

"Can't sleep yet.." She respond, as she hugged her doll tighter before looking back to you.

"So.. what's bothering you, Mama/Papa?" She asked curiously.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your sweet daughter's concern. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Just an old dream Mama had like i told you before-"

But as you spoke, a sudden jolt surged through you, a flash of memories and emotions that felt too vivid to be merely a dream. You saw yourself clad in divine armor, battling against other gods. Faces once blurred became clear in your mind's eye.

"The Archon War.." You whispered, the words heavy with realization. "It's like.. a reality.. I'm not sure.. but I felt like I've known about it like a long time ago.."

Yuna's eyes widened with wonder. "Mama/Papa, what's an Archon war??"

You shake your head, your mind racing to comprehend the implications of your rediscovered identity. "I don't know, sweetie.. but there was a war. But why? Why were we fighting? Why was i fighting? What am I protecting..?" You questioned, confusing the little girl even more.

"Ehh.. really, Mama/Papa? Maybe you died and got reincarnated? I saw a movie about that!" Yuna explained.

"Reincarnated? Wait- how did you know that big word?" You asked. Yuna giggled as she snuggled into her doll. "Hehe! I heard it from watching marvel!"

"Right.. Hawkman.."

"Hehe! I like Ironman and Hawkman!" Yuna said excitedly, as she raised her doll up like it was flying.

You sighed. "Maybe I made her watch so many movies.."

Still.. how can this be?

Why are you remembering all this memories now?

You already have a life with your daughter..

Why now?

As you navigated the bustling city streets, your thoughts were consumed by the anticipation of seeing Yuna's face light up with joy upon receiving the special treats you had bought today. The aroma of fresh donuts filled the car, tempting your senses as you carefully maneuvered through the traffic.

Your dedication to your daughter, Yuna, was unwavering. You juggled a demanding career as a high-profile fashion designer for a prestigious modeling company while ensuring that your daughter's upbringing was filled with love, happiness, and positive role models. Your decision to distance yourself from your previously abusive and greedy household was a testament to your commitment to providing Yuna with a safe and nurturing environment.

As you drove home, the box of delectable donuts sat securely on the passenger seat, tempting your senses with their sweet aroma. You couldn't help but smile, thinking about the joy these treats would bring to your little girl.

"I bet my baby would like the donuts I bought today," You mused aloud, your excitement palpable. "It's definitely the best ones I've tasted! I'm sure she'll like them."

With each turn of the wheel, your anticipation grew. The thought of Yuna's radiant smile and the delighted squeals of a child about to receive a cherished surprise filled your heart with warmth. There was nothing you wouldn't do to ensure Yuna's happiness and well-being.

She is your precious girl after all.

Who wouldn't want the best for their child?

"My precious baby... I so missed you, my Yuna. Mama will be spoiling you a lot this weekend for sure. Hmm... maybe I'll take her to the water park this Saturday?" Your thoughts were filled with excitement as you drove home, your anticipation growing with each passing moment.

However, in the midst of your joyful reverie, you failed to notice the fast-approaching truck until it was too late. The deafening impact sent shockwaves through your car, causing it to veer off the road and collide with the oncoming vehicle. The world around you blurred into chaos, and time seemed to slow as the accident unfolded.

Huh?

The world around you spun into chaos as the impact of the collision reverberated through your body. Glass shattered, metal twisted, and the sound of screeching brakes filled the air. Darkness enveloped you, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

When you finally regained her senses, you found yourself trapped in the wreckage of your car. Pain radiated through your body, and as you tried to move, you realized your injuries were severe. Panic welled up within you as the realization of what had just happened sunk in.

Your thoughts immediately turned to your daughter, Yuna. Fear clutched at your heart as you desperately called out to your little girl, but there was no response. Panic and anguish swirled within you as you fought against the pain and the wreckage that held you captive. I must go back to her! I still haven't given the donuts to my precious baby!

Pain shot through your body as you clung to consciousness, your first thought being of your precious Yuna. Panic continued to surged within you as you struggled to assess the situation.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you managed to unbuckle yourself and crawl out of the mangled car. Your vision was blurred, and your limbs felt heavy, but you had to go home to Yuna.

Your legs wobbled, panic turned to dread as you thought about Yuna waiting at home with the nanny, unaware of the accident. You had to get home, had to make sure your daughter was safe.

In the midst of the chaos, your thoughts were solely with Yuna. "I hope my Yuna is safe," you thought, your heart pounding with fear and concern. The seconds stretched like hours as you struggled to regain your bearings, your mind racing with worry for your daughter.

In the distance, you could hear voices shouting, the wailing of sirens approaching.

Your car's front end was crumpled, and the truck involved in the accident was equally damaged. The scene was chaotic, with concerned onlookers and emergency responders swarming around.

"M-my daughter," Y/n's voice laced with desperation. "Please, you have to help me. I need to get home to her."

The emergency responders arrived swiftly, their skilled hands working efficiently to extract you from the wreckage. All the while, your thoughts remained fixated on Yuna, your love for your daughter propelling you forward.

In the ambulance, amidst the blaring sirens and the medical team's urgent voices, you clung to consciousness. Your mind was a whirlwind of fear and determination. You couldn't let go, not when your little daughter syill needed you.

"It's gonna be okay, ma'am! Don't lose your consciousness! We're almost there!"

"We have to immediately take first aid!"

(Idk about this.. uh things so bear with it lol)

At the hospital, doctors and nurses worked tirelessly to stabilize you. Hours passed in a haze of pain and worry, but through it all, one thought persisted - your precious daughter, Yuna. You needed to be there for her, to protect her, just as you had always vowed to do.

As you lay there, pain coursing through your body, you felt a profound sense of urgency. The world around your became hazy, youe vision blurred. You knew your time was slipping away, like sand through an hourglass. The paramedics rushed to your side, their voices a distant echo in your ears.

In the midst of the chaos, you fought to find your voice, to speak your final words before surrendering to the abyss. With a tremor in your weakened voice, you whispered to yourself, aware that youe daughter, Yuna, remained oblivious to the tragedy that had befallen you.

"Yuna," you choked out, each word infused with a mixture of anguish and love. "My sweet, beloved daughter, I hope you can hear these words, even if only in your heart.."

As you felt the grip of life slipping away, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The pain and confusion consumed you, but amidst it all, you clung to your final thoughts, desperate to convey your love and remorse to your beloved daughter, Yuna.

Barely able to speak, your voice reduced to a mere whisper, your mind screamed with unspoken words. You yearned to tell Yuna how sorry you are, how deeply ashamed you felt for leaving your behind in this world, alone and unaware of the impending tragedy.

Blood pooled in your throat, choking your words and stealing your breath, but your thoughts raced with determination. With every ounce of strength you still possessed, you wished for your daughter's growth, for her to thrive in a world that you had only begun to understand.

In the midst of your pain, your love for Yuna burned brighter than ever. You wanted your daughter to know that your absence was never a choice, but a cruel twist of fate. Tears welled in your eyes, mixing with the blood that stained your lips, as you silently begged for forgiveness.

As the medical team continued to do their work on helping her, their urgent movements a blur around your fading consciousness, You held onto the image of Yuna in your mind. You whispered your final words, a desperate plea, hoping that somehow, in the vastness of the universe, your daughter would feel your love and hear your apologies.

In those fleeting moments, Your thoughts transcended the physical realm. You poured your heart and soul into a silent scream, a profound expression of love and regret that resonated in the depths of your being.

Through the pain and struggle, You fought to string together more coherent thoughts, desperate to convey your feelings, hopes, and apologies to your beloved daughter.

"My sweet Yuna, forgive me... I never wanted to leave you, my baby," you whispered in your mind, your voice quivering with a mix of love and anguish.

"I won't witness your first heartbreak... but remember, my darling, you are stronger than you know. You will rise above the pain and find love again."

"Yuna, my precious baby, don't let my absence hold you back. Embrace life's opportunities, explore the world, and chase your dreams with unwavering determination."

Her thoughts grow strained and weak, you continued, your words a fragile thread connecting you to your daughter's future. "I wanted to guide you, to be there for you... but circumstances have robbed us of that chance. You must find your own way, my love."

The tears flowed freely as your thoughts turned to the milestones you would miss. "I won't see you find your lifelong friends, those who will stand by your side through laughter and tears. But know that true friendships will enrich your life in ways I could never imagine."

"Yuna, my heart aches at the thought of not witnessing your wedding day. But when that time comes, know that I am with you in spirit, overflowing with love and pride as you embark on a new chapter of your life."

Your voice grew fainter, but your determination pushed you to utter one last plea in your head. "Promise me, my sweet Yuna, that you will live a life filled with joy, passion, and purpose. Seek happiness, embrace love, and never forget the strength within you."

As the darkness closed in, your final thoughts were consumed by your daughter's welfare. "Please, someone... protect and cherish my Yuna. Be the support and guiding light that I can no longer be. Love her as fiercely as I do."

With your strength waning, you held onto the hope that your whispered words would find their way to Yuna's heart. You longed for your daughter to know the depth of your love, the remorse you felt for leaving too soon, and the unwavering belief in Yuna's ability to navigate life's challenges.

And as your consciousness slowly faded, your final thoughts were a fervent wish for your daughter's growth, happiness, and the fulfillment of all her dreams.

"I love you, my Yuna.."

In your final moments, your thoughts were consumed by your undying love for Yuna, a love that transcended the boundaries of life and death. As your eyes fluttered closed, your last thoughts were of your daughter's smiling face, a beacon of light that guided you into the unknown.

You couldn't fight your dead..

Not again..

You failed again..

You failed protecting someone again..

And in that fleeting moment, as the world faded to darkness, you found solace in the knowledge that your love for Yuna would endure, an eternal flame that would continue to burn brightly, even in your absence.

'I'm so sorry, Yuna..'

Yuna played contentedly with her dolls, her imagination leading her on adventures only a child's mind could conjure. Her nanny and also Y/n's best friend, Kate, sat nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the little girl as she indulged in her imaginative play. Yuna was a charming but particular child, especially when it came to her food preferences. Yet, her undeniable cuteness made her nannies' hearts melt, rendering any minor inconveniences inconsequential.

Kate focused on the news broadcast playing on the television, its volume low so as not to disturb Yuna's playtime. But then, an unexpected news report abruptly seized her attention.

"A twenty-six-year-old woman/man was caught in a car accident," the news anchor announced solemnly. "The authorities have confirmed their identity. Tsukuyomi Y/n. She/He is a famous fashion designer for the Famous El Vera Company, who lives with their daughter, Tsukuyomi Yuna, in the..."

Kate's breath caught in her throat as she listened to the news report. Time seemed to stand still as the weight of the information sank in. Her eyes darted to Yuna, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, her innocent laughter filling the room.

She quickly turned off the television, not wanting Yuna to overhear the devastating news. Panic welled up within Kate as she contemplated how to handle the situation delicately. She knew she had to inform Yuna about her parent's accident, but how could she break such heart-wrenching news to a young child?

Taking a deep breath, Kate approached Yuna gently, crouching down to her eye level. She mustered a warm smile, masking the anguish she felt inside.

"Hey, sweetie," Kate began, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "I have something important to tell you about your mom/dad."

Yuna looked up, her big, innocent eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it, Nanny?"

"Well, darling, your mommy/daddy was in a car accident," Kate said softly, her heart breaking at the thought of shattering Yuna's world. "They're hurt, and they're in the hospital right now, getting the help they needs."

Tears welled up in Yuna's eyes as she clutched her doll tightly, her heart aching with a profound sense of loss. In that moment, the world seemed to crumble around her, and the reality of her mother/father's absence began to sink in.

"But... but Mama/Papa promised they'd come back, right?" Yuna choked out, her voice breaking as she struggled to hold back tears. "They said they'd bring me donuts today... they can't be... they can't..."

Kate fought back tears, mustering all the strength she had. "Yuna! I'm sure the doctors are doing everything they can to help them! But it's important for you to know that they loves you very much, and they want you to be strong and brave while they recover."

A flicker of fear crossed Yuna's face, and she clutched her doll tightly. "Can I see mommy/daddy?"

Kate's heart sank. She knew the truth had to be told, no matter how painful it was. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, but right now, your mommy/daddy needs to rest and get better. The doctors won't let visitors in. But you can send them your love and thoughts, and they'll feel them, I promise."

Tears welled up in Yuna's eyes, and she buried her face in the safety of Kate's arms. "I want my mommy/daddy, Kate. I miss her/him."

Kate enveloped Yuna in a warm embrace, her own eyes filling with tears. "I know, sweetheart. I know it's incredibly hard. Your Mama/Papa loved you very much, and they'll always be in your heart."

As Yuna clung to her, seeking comfort, Kate whispered a silent prayer for strength and guidance. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but she was determined to be there for Yuna, to support her, and to help her navigate the difficult journey of healing and acceptance. She was only a little girl and she had lost her only parent. Isn't Y/n's family full of abusive people? Yuna will be in danger for sure..

Kate hold Yuna tightly in her arms, as she embrace the little girl and whispering comforting words to her.

'I promise to protect your daughter for you, Y/n..'

Taglist: ----

♡ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ᙏ̤̫ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡ ⋆⁺₊ ᙏ̤̫ ⋆⁺₊⋆♡ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ᙏ̤̫ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ᙏ̤̫⁺₊⋆ ♡ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ᙏ̤̫ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡

@gojoulen03

#yandere genshin au #sagau #yandere genshin #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #genshin harem #fanfiction #parent reader #reverse harem #OC! Creator #genshin cult au #reincarnation #incarnation #genshin fanfic #yandere sagau #genshin sagau

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bellaxgiornata · 2 years ago

Text

Falling For the Devil [Part one: "The Night You Met"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader [Series Masterlist]

Summary: You have a bad Monday back at work and grab a few drinks at a nearby bar with a co-worker who takes the opportunity to have a certain attractive lawyer buy you a drink.

How you meet Matthew Murdock and then repeatedly embarrass yourself.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: So I'm finally sharing a few of these installments on tumblr, but I've been posting them on AO3 since the beginning of the year. Currently there are 74 parts posted on AO3 (almost 300k words total) and still counting. I update this series a few times a week and I figured I'd finally share a few installments here and maybe, eventually, post them all on tumblr? Please heed the warnings--there is a ton of sex later in this series (y'all who've read it know what I'm talking about) and some hurt/no comfort for a bit later during what I deemed Big Angst. If you haven't heard of this series, I certainly hope you enjoy it!

Tapping your fingers lightly against the cold bottle in your hands, your eyes fixed on your beer, you blew out a rough breath. Classic rock was playing in the dimly lit dive bar, a random one you and Katy had last minute ducked inside after work. Neither of you had been here before but after the rough Monday back at work, both of you were dying for a drink and it didn't really matter where.

"I feel like I'm chasing a goddamned dead-end," you complained, glaring at the half-finished beer.

"Maybe you need a new angle?" Katy suggested.

She threw back the rest of her beer from her place beside you before raising a hand, flagging down the surly bartender. The older woman behind the bar headed back towards you both and Katy ordered another drink.

You were lost in thought for a moment, focusing on the story Ellison had been telling you to drop for over a week now. Running a hand through your hair exasperatedly, you picked up your beer in your other hand and took a long pull from the bottle. Your head was buzzing from more than just the alcohol in your system as you swallowed the drink down.

"Didn't Ellison give you a new piece today?" Katy asked, her attention returning to you when the new beer was set in front of her.

"Yeah," you answered her with an eye roll. "Fluff piece on the local animal shelter. Which, don't get me wrong," you said, raising a hand, "I love dogs and all, but I'm not really in this to write about dogs. I didn't bust my ass to get onto The Bulletin to write fluff." You sighed, eyeing Katy beside you. "What's he got you working on now?"

"That warehouse murder last night," she answered.

"Fuck," you grumbled, slamming your head to the bar counter. Immediately you regretted the action, raising your head and pulling a face as you rubbed at the sticky dampness the bar counter had left behind. "Ugh," you grunted. "I'm on his shit list this month, aren't I?"

"Yup," Katy answered bluntly. "You know he doesn't like any of us chasing dangerous stories about mobsters after…everything that happened a little while back."

You groaned in frustration before picking up your beer and finishing the last dregs of it. Katy nudged you abruptly in the arm, just about causing you to spill the beer. You swallowed, turning to shoot her a pointed look.

"Isn't that Karen Page?" she whispered, gesturing her head towards the blonde at the pool table. "The one everyone whispered about saying Ellison supposedly fired her because she might know Daredevil's identity?"

Your eyes turned to the pool table, examining the blonde who was laughing with two other gentlemen. "Yeah, looks like her," you answered.

"Now she had some good shit she wrote," Katy said with a grin. "You know, before Ellison started doling out pieces on animal shelters."

Your eyes returned to your empty beer, but Katy continued to stare at the pool table, fingers drumming on the bar.

"Maybe we should stop talking about work," you said. "The point of grabbing a drink was to forget about this shitty Monday. I'm currently not forgetting."

"Mmm, I wouldn't mind forgetting about my Monday by getting underneath him," Katy replied, her eyes still on the pool table as she gestured her beer towards someone.

You glanced back over, your eyes landing on the man drinking back a beer with Karen Page. It was obvious Katy was drooling over the dark haired gentleman with the red glasses and cane. His jawline was perfect, his hair practically begging to have fingers run through it, his body clearly well-built under that tight dress shirt with buttons tempted to pop when he moved just right, and he had an absolutely breathtaking smile.

"Isn't that Murdock from Nelson, Murdock, and Page?" Katy said after a moment, her eyes narrowing. "They're the guys who took down Fisk. Shit, he's hotter in person." When you didn't respond, Katy glanced back at you, eyebrows shooting up on her forehead. "Is your silence you disagreeing about that man’s perfection?"

You shook your head, your eyes landing back on the man. It almost seemed like he was looking at you and Katy at the bar, but considering he was blind, that would have been impossible.

"He's attractive, yeah," you agreed with a shrug.

Katy's eyes widened at you. "Really? That's it? That guy looks like sex on legs and I'm pretty sure I've heard rumors that he is amazing in bed and…that’s all you’ve got?"

"Your point?" you asked.

"Are you serious right now?" she asked in disbelief. "You wouldn't want a night with that guy?"

You let out a heavy breath, your eyes returning to the now empty bottle of beer as you debated on another or just going home and making dinner and writing that pointless article for Ellison.

"I wouldn’t know what to even say to a guy like that," you muttered. "You know outside of interviews I am shit with human interaction."

Katy chuckled lightly before shaking her head. "You do have a knack for being awkward. But you wouldn't need to say anything, just let him fuck you senseless as you're screaming his name on your back."

Katy abruptly threw out some light, breathy fake moans that had you slapping her arm sharply and your face burning up.

"Pretty sure you could handle that ," she teased you with a light laugh.

"You're a fucking animal," you joked, burying your reddening face in your hands.

"You're thinking about it though," she shot back.

You glanced at the man between your fingers, face still buried in your hands. He was holding a beer in one hand as something that looked like a smirk broke across his face. He was standing by the pool table, his gaze in your direction as his friends focused on the game they were playing. Your heart sped up at the thought of him throwing you onto your bed and you swore you saw his lips pull up even higher before you turned away.

"Would literally never happen," you mumbled. "Guys who look like that don't talk to chicks like me."

"Sexy and awkward?" Katy supplied.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Only one of those is an accurate description," you replied. "Anyway, I should probably get back. Make dinner and slam my head into the wall repeatedly as I write that piece for the next issue."

"Or you could stay and see if you're awkward enough to scare away Hell’s Kitchen’s sexiest lawyer," Katy suggested with a playful grin. "Maybe end up finding God on your back."

She opened her mouth and got out one moan before you kicked her shin.

She laughed, waving a hand at you. "Alright, fine. Let me chug this and I'll leave, too. I've got a lead I need to check out tonight anyway."

You watched her raise the beer to her lips and toss it back, downing the last half of the bottle before slamming it to the counter. You slid off the bar stool and turned to leave only to run head first into someone. You stumbled backwards muttering out an 'oh shit' as your back hit the bar counter, and then your eyes went wide when you saw it was the attractive lawyer you and Katy had just been talking about.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't see you there," you blurted out an apology.

"Neither did I," he answered, a grin spreading across his mouth.

"Right, because you're…" you trailed off quickly realizing how rude it would be to point out his disability.

Katy appeared just beside him, her eyes going wide as she gawked at you, shaking her head sharply.

"Blind?" the man finished for you.

Your cheeks burned as you awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He was somehow even more attractive up close and he had a nice, deep voice. For a moment you couldn't help but imagine him on top of you in your bed again and your heart stuttered in your chest.

"And I'm tactless," you breathed out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to literally run into you and then be completely rude. I'm just going to go," you said quickly, trying to skirt around him.

"Or you could buy her a drink," Katy blurted.

Your eyes widened as you stared open-mouthed at her, entirely taken aback. Katy shot you a look, shrugging a shoulder. The man chuckled, the sound drawing your attention back to him beside you. He was grinning in your direction and you internally groaned.

"You want me to buy your friend a drink?" he asked curiously.

Your eyes narrowed to a glare at Katy as you quickly answered him. "She's kidding," you told him. "You know, just a bad joke ," you said, the last two words coming out at Katy between gritted teeth.

"Well," the man mused, "I may not be opposed to the idea."

Your palms immediately began to sweat as Katy sent you a wicked grin. Your heart was thundering wildly in your chest as you chanced a glance back at him. He looked entirely calm and collected as he stood there with a charming smile on his face.

“That’s uh, that’s nice and all, but I actually have work to finish tonight–”

“No you don’t,” Katy cut in sharply, eyes narrowed. “You could write that article in thirty minutes with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue. You don’t have work.”

The man whose first name you were still unaware of chuckled good-naturedly beside you at Katy’s words. “I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about, but that sounds like quite the talent you have,” he teased.

Katy snickered loudly as you audibly groaned, shrinking back into yourself. This was easily the most humiliated you had felt in a long time.

She turned towards the man next and pointedly told him, “She had a bad day, she’d love another drink.” And then her attention returned to you, a sly grin on her face as she said, “Now I actually have a lead to follow up with. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” She proceeded to mouth ‘you’re welcome’ before she turned and left.

You were torn between trying to chase after her and feeling obligated to converse with this insanely attractive man who was for some reason giving you the time of day. You were tightly gripping the strap of your crossbody bag with indecision as you stood there uncomfortably. Thankfully he spoke and broke the awkward tension.

“Would you like another drink?” he asked, gesturing towards the bar beside you both. “You could maybe tell me your name?” he suggested. “And why you’re having such a bad Monday?”

“Look,” you began, “you really don’t have to. She was just being a pain in my ass thinking that she was–” You stopped short. You couldn’t exactly finish that thought and tell him she was trying to help you talk to him because you obviously thought he was attractive and you would never approach him on your own. That would have been even more embarrassing. “I just–you’re clearly here with your friends and I don’t want to pull you away,” you quickly shot out instead.

His dark brows rose up behind his glasses, a slight amused grin forming on his lips. “Oh? You were paying attention to who I was with before you even ran into me?”

Wincing, you wished a bus would just barrel through the bar and hit you, putting you out of your misery and ending this embarrassing conversation. How the fuck were you even supposed to deny that?

So you decided to do what you always did when things got too uncomfortable–run.

“You know what, I really do need to go,” you said, quickly turning and stepping away.

“Wait,” he called out.

And you did. For some unknown reason you actually paused, back still towards him. You could see his two friends at the pool table still enraptured in their game, currently either unaware or uninterested in the fact that he wasn’t back with them.

“Okay, I really am blind, so you’re going to have to actually, you know, acknowledge that you’re still here so I know I’m not just talking to myself right now,” he said.

You cleared your throat nervously, your eyes dropping to your scuffed up dress flats. “Wouldn’t exactly be too out of place in a bar, at least,” you muttered.

He laughed lightly, the sound causing you to glance back at him over your shoulder. He was smiling and the sight nearly gutted you. You wished he’d take off the glasses so you could see the entirety of his face–his eyes were probably as beautiful as the rest of him.

He slid onto the bar stool beside the one you’d just been on, folding up his cane as he patted the seat beside him. “Please, sit. Let me get you a drink,” he offered again.

The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Why, are you just that curious how far I can shove my foot into my mouth?”

Your mouth immediately clamped shut, one of your hands flying up to cover it as your eyes grew wide in horror at how your sarcastic comment actually came across. His eyebrows once again flew all the way up to his forehead, his lip twitching up at the corner in amusement.

“Another one of your curious talents?” he asked with a slight laugh.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, taking a step back. “This is the most embarrassed I’ve probably felt in years,” you blurted. “Which is saying something because I have a tendency to make things incredibly awkward and uncomfortable and I should just really go home now.”

He was fighting the grin on his face as he shook his head. “No, please, don’t be embarrassed. This conversation has honestly been the highlight of my day.”

“I’m glad my mortification brings you joy,” you said flatly, taking another step back, “but I’m pretty sure I’m teetering on the edge of being the first person to actually die of embarrassment. So I should probably really go now.”

“I’m Matthew,” he said, extending his hand out towards you. “Usually I just go by Matt.”

Your eyes dropped down to his extended hand, staring in silent confusion at it. Why the fuck was he offering his hand and introducing himself to you?

He cleared his throat, hand still outstretched. “I know you said you’re a bit awkward and all, so I’ll let you know this is usually the part where you shake my hand and introduce yourself, too.”

“I–” you began, hesitating as you continued eyeing his outstretched hand. “I just told you like five times that I should go…”

“I know, I’m blind, not deaf,” Matt said, grin still intact, causing you to flush further. “But yet you’re still standing here instead of actually leaving. So,” he continued, extending his hand out further towards you, “my name is Matt, and you are?”

“Dying of embarrassment,” you muttered, unable to resist the slight smile on your mouth when he chuckled again.

And then you caved and against your better judgment you shook his hand, offering him your name as you sat on the bar stool beside him.

“That’s a pretty name,” he told you.

“And that sounds like a line,” you quipped back.

He raised a single brow at you this time, the corner of his mouth quirking up. You watched as the bartender made her way over towards the pair of you, the surly expression on her face morphing into a large smile when she saw Matt.

“What can I get you, Murdock?” she asked.

Matt turned towards the woman, a charming smile on his face as he said, “Just another beer, Josie, and whatever this lovely lady is having.” His head tilted towards you and Josie’s eyes followed curiously.

“Uh, just a beer, thanks,” you muttered awkwardly.

She nodded, lightly tapping a hand to the counter before sauntering off to grab two beers. You took a moment to take a deep breath, not entirely sure what to make of the evening so far. Normally you’d have scared someone off by now, making them entirely too uncomfortable to try to endure conversation. But not Matt. He was still sitting beside you, clearly relaxed and comfortable.

“So why’re you having a bad day?” he asked.

You glanced over at him. He was studying you, head tilted to the side and one arm resting along the bar counter, the cane folded up on the surface beside him. With the way he was turned towards you in the bar stool, and you towards him, your knees were almost brushing.

“Just a bad day at work,” you mumbled.

“Where do you work?” he asked curiously.

“The Bulletin,” you told him.

He appeared to perk up instantly, sitting up straighter in his chair as his head shifted further to the side. “You’re a journalist?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered. “Or at least, I try to be when my boss isn’t throwing fluff pieces at me instead of letting me chase real stories.”

You briefly noticed the thinning of his lips at your words before Josie’s return with two beers caught your attention. You thanked her with a smile, surprised when she returned one, and watched as she disappeared. You took a deep drink from the beer, definitely feeling like you needed it to survive in Matt’s presence. When you set the beer back on the bar, your right hand absently playing with the condensation on the bottle, you turned your attention back to Matt and noticed the slight frown on his mouth.

“So you’re…chasing a dangerous story and your boss doesn’t want you to?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Matt suggested.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “And what, write about the upcoming adoption event at the animal shelter forever?” You shook your head. “No, that’s not what I signed up for with this career. Your friend over there is Karen Page, right? She was the same way when she worked at The Bulletin, too.”

“Yeah, and you see how she no longer chases after the dangerous stories for a newspaper anymore, right?” he replied, his tone more serious than it had been.

“I’m sorry but, I just met you literally minutes ago and now you’re trying to dictate what I should be doing?” you asked skeptically.

Matt abruptly shook his head, his charming smile returning. “You know what? You’re right. I just remember Karen having some terrible situations arise because she was chasing a story. I shouldn’t project that onto you. I apologize.”

You continued to study him curiously as you raised your beer to your lips, taking a drink. You swallowed, voicing your thought aloud as you asked, “Why’d you want to have a drink with me so badly?”

“I liked the sound of your voice,” he answered easily. “You sounded nice and I thought I’d like to continue hearing you talk for a bit more tonight.”

You snorted loudly, shaking your head. “Okay, now that is a terrible line,” you said.

“Says the woman who wanted to show me how far she could shove her foot into her mouth before she even knew my name,” he countered.

You blushed furiously, shaking your head with a grin. “No, I said you wanted to see that, not that I wanted to show you,” you shot back.

“Well,” Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders as he brought his beer to his lips, “I’m blind anyway so I couldn’t actually see it one way or another.”

“How many blind jokes are you going to make tonight?” you asked him.

He grinned smoothly back at you, swallowing down his beer. “As many as you continue to easily drop into my lap,” he answered.

You laughed, your eyes darting to the beer beside you. Matt’s knee nudged yours and you glanced back at him.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked softly.

You shrugged a shoulder, eyeing the beer again. “I can’t decide if I’m regretting staying for this drink or not yet."

"Oh, ouch," he said, feigning hurt.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "I mean I’m still debating whether or not you laughing at my intense embarrassment has been worth it or not yet for the current conversation."

"Uh huh," he replied. "So where are you landing with that? On a scale of one to ten?"

You pulled a face, head tilting to the side. "How would I even rate that on a scale?" you asked him curiously.

"Well, one would be 'Oh shit I'll just stop talking and slip away since he can't see me’–'"

"Jeez, has that happened to you before?" you asked, cutting him off.

He shook his head, bringing his beer to his lips again as he answered. "No, but I get the feeling you might."

Your face reddened further as you watched him take a drink, eyes lingering on the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "No," you corrected, "I'd at least blurt out something weird and then sprint out of the room. You'd at least have some warning."

"Oh, well I appreciate that at least," he teased. "But really, scale of one to ten how much are you regretting staying for the drink?"

You eyed him, bringing the bottle to your lips and thinking over your answer for a moment as you studied him and took a drink. He was charming, that was obvious, and he didn't seem even remotely put off or like he was struggling with conversation no matter how awkward you'd been so far. In fact, you'd go so far as to say that you were surprisingly having fun.

"Okay I'm pretty sure you just told me you'd at least blurt something awkward before you disappeared on me," Matt joked.

You grinned, unable to help it. "A seven," you answered.

His eyebrows shot up onto his forehead again, an amused smile still on his lips. "A seven isn't bad but I was hoping for higher," he mused. "Why so low?"

"You could do with some better jokes and your lines are terrible," you told him.

"Duly noted," he answered quickly.

"So what about you?" you asked somewhat nervously. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you regret asking me to stay for this drink?"

You anxiously took a sip of your beer while he cocked his head to the side as if he was in thought for a moment.

"An eight," he answered. "But only because I'm still waiting to find out how far you can shove your foot in your mouth."

You choked on the beer you were drinking, coughing lightly as Matt laughed and asked if you were alright. It was a moment before you recovered but his next question had you reeling again.

"You want to stay longer than that one drink? Meet my friends?" he asked when you'd recovered.

Your cheeks flushed as you bit your lip, taking only a few seconds to think over your answer. "Yeah, sure," you said. "I've got time."

"Considering your friend said you could write your article in a half hour with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue," he mused, "I imagine you do. You need any help with the restraints for that, by the way?"

You threw your face in your hands, groaning loudly as Matt let out another bark of laughter beside you. "I cannot believe you just said that," you mumbled.

"Really?" he asked curiously. "In the probably fifteen minutes you've been conversing with me you really can't believe I would say that?"

You began to laugh behind your own hands, turning your face to peek at him through your fingers. He was smiling wide, perfect teeth exposed, as he gazed in your direction.

"Okay, yeah, maybe I can," you answered.

"But you seem a little more relaxed now," he pointed out.

He was right, too. Somehow after all the awkward tension and comments you'd found him funny and a little disarming. And he still hadn't run off, instead he seemed like he was also enjoying your company and he clearly didn't want you to leave yet. Which you certainly hadn't expected.

"Yes, maybe marginally less embarrassed," you agreed.

"Good," he responded. He slid off the bar stool, knees briefly grazing yours before he grabbed his cane and began to unfold it. "So, would you like to meet my friends? Stay a bit longer?"

You smiled, shrugging a shoulder. "Sure, let's give my anxiety a bigger audience," you joked, sliding off of your bar stool.

"I have a feeling they're going to like you, too," he assured you.

You smiled nervously, feeling your palms sweating a bit again and trying to discreetly wipe them against your dress pants as he led you towards the pool table. He'd just said he liked you and you felt yourself becoming a bundle of nerves all over again.

But he couldn't possibly have meant it like that , right?

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