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whispereons · 1 year ago

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Oracle!Reader Part 13

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 12, Part 14

Warning! As usual, there are descriptions of violence, gore, and death! Ya know, the usual yandere imposter sagau stuff.

Leaning against a tree, you finished the last volume in 'Hilichurl cultural custom'. It was definitely the most informative with the next being 'Hilichurl Ballad Section'. You didn't plan on studying the Hilichurl language but it could come in handy.

You just didn't bother finishing 'Draft Hilichurl ballads'. Ella Musk's rough translation paper in her commission would be far more helpful than that. The game screen is closed as you think back to what you memorized.

Hilichurls worshipped the elements rather than the Seven, which makes sense due to their Khaenri'ah bloodline. Could you use the elemental power in your possession to distract them? Would they recognize you as they can control elements or would the curse from Celestia interfere?

Twirling your sickle mindlessly you keep watch on the camp as hilichurls continuously walk around. A Mitachurl carrying a rock shield sat in the base as a Geo Samachurl helped construct a tower.

Actually, now that you think about it, isn't it kind of strange how this is your first time encountering a Hilichurl? One of the most common enemies that appears in almost every location, yet it's only when you purposefully search for one that you-

"Mimi ye?"

Jumping away from the tree in shock, a sharp gasp escapes you as you turn around, your sickle held firmly. You resist the urge to raise it in defense.

A Hilichurl stands now in front of you with a crossbow, tilting its head. It would be cute if you weren't hyper-aware of the weapon in its hands. Relaxing your posture, the sickle in your hand is hanging to avoid making the hilichurl feel threatened.

"Hello, do you want something from me?" Awkwardly smiling at the masked creature, you speak slowly in hopes of not exciting it.

"Celi dada, mimi nunu!" It walks closer to you, making you cringe internally from the smell. It's not just a smell from bad hygiene, it smells like death.

"Are you curious about me? Do you want to see something cool?" You wait for it to react, which it does by strolling a bit closer before presenting your sickle.

It stops at the sight of the weapon and you watch nervously as its grip tightens on the crossbow. Hurriedly you push the Electro to crackle through the weapon but you don't swing it.

Not even as the Hilichurl begins to load an arrow.

"Nini movo muhe yoyo!" You repeat the few phrases that you drilled into your mind. The pronunciation is bad and the accent is horrible but the message is received by the Hilichurl.

The arrow is slowly removed from the crossbow as the Hilichurl points to the Electro and asks, "Eleka mimi-a-Domu?"

Racking your brain to recall what it's trying to ask you, you nod hastily. It wasn't attacking you so whatever it asked hopefully wasn't bad.

The Hilichurl begins to circle you as it gets closer, seemingly inspecting you. "Muhe ye! Mimi tomo!"

'Muhe ye' was something praiseworthy if you remembered correctly. It suddenly begins to push you towards the camp while repeating the same phrase.

Not willing to risk angering it, you let it push you down the hill and cross the small river of water. Your sickle disappears in gold specks before the other Hilichurls and Geo Samachurl spot you.

They all tense up with their weapons ready yet they don't attack until the Hilichurl pushes you in front of them. It begins to speak to the whole group loudly as they all peer at you from behind it.

"Mimi mosi ye mita!" Hilichurlian is spoken quickly as you look at the half-finished tower and the second tower that was completed. Could the towers be part of the worship they hold to Teyvat?

"Ya!?" The rock shield Mitachurl suddenly storms down the stairs from the main camp making you stare up at the Mitachurl in panic.

Shit, shit this was getting out of hand. Looking around the camp for some form of escape or distraction, the Samachurl stomps his staff onto the ground twice.

"Celi upa celi! Ye dada!" The Samachurl yells out, making the rest of the Hilichurls cheer and begin working faster on the second tower. You could hardly focus on that as the Mitachurl stops in front of you with a mean glare.

It towers over you with the rock shield looking almost as heavy as you. A snort of hot, stinky breath is pushed onto your face making your features scrunch up in disgust.

It begins to argue with the Samachurl as you recover from the horrid smell of the group. You weren't being attacked so that was a good sign, but how were you supposed to lead them away?

Multiple hands begin to drag you toward the half-built towers with their overgrown nails tickling your skin. Not wanting to be forced, you keep pace with the group. Looking down to not trip, you notice their feet.

It was kinda strange how they had five fingers but only three toes. The cloth-like fabric of their charcoal skin was also strange along with the horn-like features on their head. Perhaps the curse melted their clothing with them into one being? That would help explain why they wore so little clothing even in harsh climates.

The Hilichurls pushed you into helping with the tower construction, they all seemed enthusiastic to have you on board. Working with them, instead of fighting against them was far more ideal even if you had more work to do when it came to destroying the towers.

Not long after helping finish the tower, the Hilichurls and Samachurl celebrate. The Mitachurl sits on the perch on the base camp as the Samachurl begins to sway his staff.

"Eleka mimi-a-Domu~ Mita domu-a-dada!" As the Samachurl begins to sing, the hilichurls dance around both towers in sync. Sitting down you watch it curiously while keeping an eye on the Mitachurl.

"Mimi mosi ye mita!" From what the books said this song was supposed to be sung during festivals. What could they be celebrating?

A few Hilichurls arrive at the camp holding Geo clubs and shields. They pause at the sight of you until the Samachurl speaks to them, making them calm down.

One of them seems heavily injured and is escorted into the main camp with bleeding wounds. The smell of iron mingles unpleasantly with the sweat and dirt in the air. God, you regret having a working sense of smell.

The rest of the group brought back meat and rotting fruit? The meat was put to cook over the fire and the fruit was handed out. You only took a single fruit to be polite but it didn't smell... right.

It was a wet, overripe Sunsettia looking far more red than a normal orange Sunsettia. It was probably washed in the river but the water only made it muddy. You look around to see a whole basket brought to the Mitachurl who takes it with a huff.

"Ya celi mimi nunu!" The Samachurl exclaims before they all begin to eat. You try to put the dirt-speckled Sunsettia on the ground but the Samachurl stares at you with expectant eyes. It keeps the staring contest as the Mitachurl begins to look at you too.

Damn, you really didn't want to do this.

Smiling, you brush the mud off (that unfortunately smears it more) and try to ignore the gross possibilities of who and what touched the fruit. You chomp a good-sized bite and hold it in your mouth until the Samachurl nods in approval. The Samachurl begins to feast on his own Sunsettias and you try not to gag. You're about to spit out the piece in your mouth until the juice hits your tongue.

It's sweet. The slight bitterness is pleasant, if not familiar. Experimentally, you begin to chew on the fruit and savor the taste trying to recall what it is.

After a few more bites, you notice a weak burning sensation that travels down your throat. It's… alcohol? These Sunsettias are fermented. Not strong enough to get drunk off one, but after a few?

You look back to the Hilichurls and blanch at the empty basket. Now with what seems like the whole camp they resume the dance. The Mitachurl flops into the middle of the camp, dropping his empty basket.

The staff in the Geo Samachurls hands sways drunkenly as it sings loudly and off-key.

"Nini movo muhe yoyo! Nini movo mimi tomo~! Lata movo mosi yoyo, celi movo celi yoyo!"

Cringing, you finally got up and walked past the drunk Hilichurls. You could barely hear yourself think with all the noise, how were you supposed to plan with it?!

The only place within the Hilichurl camp that had a chance of keeping out the singing was the sole building. Casting a parting glance at the partying Hilichurls, you climb up the stairs and enter the hut.

The poor workmanship let drafts in as two lit torches kept it bright. The obnoxious singing gets quieter so you suppose the building served its purpose. A sole beat-up hilichurl lays on a straw make-shift matt, it groans in pain weakly.

You stop in the middle of the building, just a few steps away from the Hilichurl as you watch it. The question lingering in the back of your mind finally comes forth.

Why did you not want to harm the Hilichurls?

You had no problems attacking and even murdering people, yet your heart ached at the thought of hurting the cursed citizens. Was that it? Did you pity them to the point of refusal of harm? Or was it like you originally thought of the Hilichurl camp being too strong for you to face on your own?

Quietly, you take slow steps toward the Hilichurl, the torches cast your shadow to loom far above it as if swallowing it whole. Stretching out your hand your fingers inch closer to the wound winding down its back.

It must be in so much pain. Your fingers graze the cut just barely as you laugh at yourself. Were you always this hypocritical? Just yesterday you let a treasure hoarder bleed to death with his critical state, yet you tenderly touch this Hilichurl hoping that your power could heal it.

Even with your conflicting feelings, you smile as the Hilichurl begins to glow gold. If your touch was enough to heal it then Teyvat must recognize it as an animal rather than a human.

How sad...

The Hilichurl is quick to wake up once the light fades. A mumbled "Dala?" leaves it as it felt its body multiple times as if checking that it really was healed. It finally turns to look at you with a tense silence.

Smiling calmly, you stay standing as it shakily steps closer to you. "Unu, unu!" The Hilichurl falls onto its knees as it shouts loudly making you jump.

Loud thudding could be heard behind you. You looked behind you, a grimace on your face. This wasn't supposed to happen, what did it yell to the others?! You may have been against fighting them if you could avoid it, but between their life and yours, you come first.

Your sickle is summoned into a clenched hand as you move to turn around to face the sole entryway. Coarse hands grab your ankles and something rough lays on your feet. You freeze at the sight of the Hilichurl in a full bowing position at your feet with its cracked mask pressed against your feet.

Did it recognize you? Or is it simply trying to stop you and is still weak from its earlier injuries? Nerves aflame, you lift your sickle prepared to strike it down and start the fight.

The Hilichurls swarm the building making you freeze up. The Samachurl walks in with the Mitachurl trailing behind it. Attacking now would only lead you to being overwhelmed. All you can do is wait for them to make the first move. If only you remembered what unu meant!

The Samachurl speaks to the Hilichurl that is still clinging to your feet, yet the Hilichurl only repeats unu. That must have been the last straw for the Mitachurl as it yells with spittle hitting your shoulder. It grabs the Hilichurl and lifts it up into the air as you rub the spit off with a nauseating feeling.

The sound of the Samachurls staff dropping to the ground is what has you raising your head. Not a second later, all the Hilichurls get on their knees, yelling with enthusiasm.

"Unu! Unu! Yo unu!"

It wouldn't be a stretch to say that unu must mean something like god as lawa meant chief. There wasn't anything else they would bow to that wasn't a god. Even the mighty Mitachurl sets the Geo shield down to bow low enough that you stand taller than it.

If healing a single Hilichurl had this effect, then you never have to worry about Hilichurls again. This was just another thing to add to your growing list of plausible evidence for you being the Creator to use in the worst-case scenario.

Of course, this could be used against you just as easily. The Hilichurls are by technical means 'monsters'. The only people who know that they were once people are far too little. Some would even kill you to hide this fact...

With a heavy heart, you force yourself to remember not to let hilichurls know your identity from this point on. So many good opportunities are missed due to your stupid acolytes. You'll be stuck keeping this Hilichurl situation quiet for both you and the Hilichurl camp's sake.

Glum with disappointment, you resign yourself to finishing the commission and point out the tent. "All of you, follow me." With that, you leave the building as the Hilichurls rush to follow you.

There's no fear in your heart as you continue to speak while using hand signals to order them. Opening the map, you hum as you try to find a good spot to move them to. It would suck if they saw you destroy the towers and rebuild them before you get the reward for the job.

It takes a bit longer than you hoped due to the alcoholic fruit they consumed but soon enough they follow you farther south to the border of Tianqiu Valley. A nice open area is spotted and you stand there while pointing at the ground.

"Here, this will be your new home." The Hilichurls cheer and rush to work. You slide down to rest against a tree trunk. All you had to do was sit and wait until you saw a good chance to slip away.

Except, they just would not stop bugging you. Fruits, meat, flowers, and any relatively presentable objects were given to you constantly. It didn't help that the Mitachurl refused to leave your side after you winced at the sunbeam hitting your eye.

You had accepted all the gifts and mindlessly stuffed it all into your bag. It was a bit embarrassing to admit but the way they cheered and danced at your approval was nearly endearing. Keyword: nearly.

The stream of gifts came to a halt as the squishy sounds of slime padding along the grass came closer. A batch of big and small cryo slimes stared at the Hilichurls before jumping into the air to attack them.

The Mitachurl quickly leaves your side to attack them as the Hilichurls follow it into battle. Not a moment too soon either, the camp is almost done and you aren't sure if they would even let you leave at this rate.

It was a shame you had to miss watching the battle. Seeing the two most common mobs fight each other was a rare sight as they usually work together. With a bit of effort, you successfully escape without alerting the Hilichurls, smiling in anticipation at the sight of the old camp.

Electro is slashed at the tower as your sickle hits it repeatedly. The white winding tower breaks into a pile of rubble before you move on to the second one.

It's a little more difficult due to the wood pole that serves as a foundation but it comes crashing to the ground soon enough. In spite of your hits, the brown pole stays standing despite the marks you gave it.

Winded, you rest your hand against the pole and catch your breath. After a few minutes, you stand back up and raise your sickle to strike but stop at the sight of something interesting.

On the pole were the now translated words 'BELOVED CREATOR' in messy big writing.

That confirms it right? Not only do the people of Khaenri'ah worship you, but they also recognized you earlier. But if they were originally punished for refusing to be under a god then why did they suffer the same fate when they worshipped you?...

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Celestia wasn't intended to be a good or liked character in Genshin. Hoyoverse made it very clear that no one liked Celestia, so Celestia alone attacking the people of Khaenri'ah wasn't surprising, even in this world, but what about the Archons? What reason did they have to attack Khaenri'ah when the Archons worshipped you too?

Your mind spins with possibilities as your feet automatically head back to the newly built Hilichurl camp. After all, you couldn't leave them unsupervised when they knew your secret.

Besides being showered with gifts and what you assume are compliments isn't bad. You didn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or acting suspicious around them. Their minds and bodies just weren't good enough to revolt against you. Still, it made you happy that you could relax around them with no consequences.

The camp should be made with lighter-colored trees due to the different environments. The stone flooring of the building would cool the temperature slightly along with whatever air slips in. They should be feasting on the food they gathered and celebrate your return. You would enjoy the positive attention that you haven't truly accepted since you arrived here as they sing and dance awfully.

So, why did the sound of weak gasps and clashing weapons fill the air? Why did the well-accustomed smell of blood overwhelm your nose to the point where you could taste it?

Your answer came in the form of a woman with flowing silk hair adorned with red ropes strangling a hilichurl till it went limp. The body hit the ground with a thud as it dissolved into ashes leaving a splatter of blood and a cracked mask.

The spear twirled in her gloved hands as the crane-like cape followed her body as she surveyed the area. Her clothes were dyed in dark red as the ruby liquid shined on the head of her spear. The crane-like beauty of Shenhe is lost on you as your eyes never stray from the bloody cracked masked.

Stumbling without care for whatever sounds you make, the bushes shake as you walk through. Shenhe looks in your direction indifferently as you emerge from the shadowy trees. Weapon at the ready, she speaks harshly like the worst winters.

"This is a dangerous area, go to Liyue and get any wounds treated."

She turns her head prepared to leave when a choked gasp escapes you. Head still angled to the ground, your features are hidden from view as she watches you.

"The Hilichurls, t-they took me. Did you really k-kill them all?" A shiver and soft sob wracks your body as you bend to clutch your knees for support.

"Yes, you can get help at Li-" Her dismissive words are cut off by your coughing fit. Tears spring to your eyes as you lift your head up letting her see your masked face.

She steps through the blood-stained grass as the horns, arrows, and scrolls break beneath her steps. There's a twist of a cap before a flask is pushed roughly into your mouth. The stale water that Shenhe clearly doesn't drink helps the bile in your mouth go down with a bad taste.

She brings it away and closes it as she barely glances at your face. She moves to leave again but your hand wraps around her upper arm tightly. Your voice shakes with emotion as you begin to speak.

"Those Hilichurls-s dragged me with them and thanks to y-you they're dead. They're really dead aren't they?!" Shenhe narrows her eyes in distrust at the way you finish your words.

"Goodbye." Emotionless as always she moves to wretch her arm out of your grasp but ends up gasping in pain instead. Her stomach bleeds into the black bodysuit as your sickle stabs her stomach. The grip you hold onto her is bruising as you stare up at her with indifference.

"They were only working on their home. Is it a crime for them to simply exist? You can't even understand your own existence, let alone empathize with another's. What right do you have to deny them the bare minimum in a world they didn't ask to live in?"

The words come out coldly as your teeth dig into your lips. The spear is stabbed into your right shoulder making you release her with a pained cry. She pushes you away, letting the blood flow out of your wound as you press your free hand onto it.

"You must be possessed by a demon." An ice talisman is summoned between her fingers as Cryo envelopes her weapon. The deep cut you left on her stomach continues to bleed but Shenhe ignores it. Meanwhile, you continue to press against your wound as the blood stains your hand.

Shenhe takes a step in your direction before a loud roar captures both your attention. The Mitachurl rushes in Shenhe's direction holding a brand new Geo shield. She steps back quickly but not fast enough to dodge the shield bash.

The satisfaction you get from watching her nose break and bleed is short-lived as her elemental burst is activated. The Mitachurl is already weak and once she's done with it, she'll be after you. It's that quick realization that has you running away from the area.

Wouldn't it be good to test if the statue of the seven could heal you? You skid to a stop at the old Hilichurl camp as you quickly bring up the game screen. As much as you would like to teleport without it, that requires you to remember what the location looked like, which you definitely can't with how fast your mind is racing.

The map is pulled up and you move to select the waypoint closest to the statue when your instincts scream at you. Something’s coming, something’s coming!

Letting your body lead, you dive to the left and grit your teeth at the pain of new scrapes forming. You watch in a mix of fascination and horror as it's overwhelmed by ice maidens. The near-death experience only leaves your nerves shot as you jump to your feet and continue running.

Shenhe already finished the Mitachurl, she's coming after you. The crackling of ice following and the lowering temperature are signs that only push you to escape faster.

The only exit of the area is a narrow gap between two mountains and you are distracted for a split second. The beautiful tree that rests over the sealed Azdaha overshadows you with every bit of grace you always imagined it would have.

"Transfiguration!" You didn't have Shenhe but it didn't take a genius to know she was going to use her skill. You can't keep running, not with these wounds. Not like you can fight her either no matter what creator buffs you get, it won't help you against the adepti's disciple.

From your right, you can hear the sound of crackling fire and Geo clashing. Swerving to the right, an ice talisman cuts your cheek but it's worth it as you spot Samachurl.

It's a huge hilichurl camp, at least two Mitachurls must be here! Grinning, you don't stop and hop over the shoddily made fence before it's destroyed by the cryo woman.

The camp is quick to begin attacking Shenhe as they must have judged that she was far more threatening. A Mitachurl holding an axe, and a shield bearing Mitachurl rush at the messy woman as you peek behind you.

Her lips are pulled into a snarl but her posture is clean as her spear weaves to hit any weak spots. Yeah, even with the Samachurl and Hilichurls supporting, you didn't have much time to escape.

You sneak into the now-empty Hilichurl hall-like building and pull up the screen. Impatiently you wait for it to load as the fighting continues on. It loads and you select the map quickly and find the waypoint on Qingyun Peak.

The noises abruptly stop before there's loud thudding as the whole area becomes cold. Panicking you press the 'teleport' button multiple times as the steps shake.

Iridescent eyes that hold boundless rage as the red ropes slip off meet your smug eyes as the light engulfs you.

Rubbing your eyelids as the light dies down to show beautiful scenery, you sit on a cold stone blankly. Just how dumb were you? Groaning, you flop backward and stare at the sky tiredly.

What a great idea it was to stab a homicidal overpowered woman with trust issues and only a small sense of morality. That makes it twice now that you were chased by braided-hair women that wield spears, except this time you knew better and could have prevented it completely.

But... you really didn't want to. If she had killed them after you said a proper goodbye then you would be upset but not like this. You wouldn't have been willing to employ that tactic again.

Just mentioning it seemed to direct your thoughts back to that day. Just like today, you had started to fully trust and unknowingly depend before they were taken away without warning.

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A young man stands with shaky hands as he stares at the now-dead body of the homeless man he shot. A panicked chuckle escapes him as his vision blurs and shakes at the sight.

No one would have to know. No one would even know. Nobody cares about the homeless, let alone a stray cat.

You're almost positive of that, that was his thought process before he spots you staring vacantly at your adoptive father and Ashtray. The only family that you had.

Tears burn your vision as you look at the gun in his hands. A weak laugh leaves you making the man stare at you nervously. You weren't even 18, yet you lost your father for the second time. The only difference was that you actually loved and remembered him.

"I really have to thank you, ya'know?" There's a slight voice crack when you speak but you smile at the guy despite it. "I mean, he was just soo annoying."

He smiles at your words, seeming to calm down at the friendliness and accepting nature you showed. "I know right? Constantly trying to convince everyone to 'make the most of your situation' or 'try to enjoy life while we have it' like what a fucking joke!"

His slimy laugh is accompanied by your fake laughter. It didn't feel real, you didn't want it to be real. Your feet carried you closer and your hand rests on his shoulder.

"Tell me about it. At least the old man's dead now! I can finally do the shit I wanna do." Your dad's blood from all the gunshots sticks to the nasty clothes and your filthy skin like paint. He didn't deserve to go like this, he deserved someone that isn't as selfish as you.

"Can you even guess half the stuff he made me do? Man, if I had access to a gun like that, shit he would have died way earlier!" The cockroach in human skin laughs and rests his palm on the alleyway side. A perfect match considering they're both utter shit.

"You're hilarious. How about this? I can introduce you to the guy that got me a hold of this, you can get it real cheap too! Of course, you'll need to pay me back in some way..."

You don't like that look in his eyes, you hate this man with passion you never knew you held until now. He's brought closer to you as you give a slight nod.

"But before that, I just gotta ask. I'm so fucking curious." Smiling with pride he lets you pull him closer.

"Sure, what is it? Just don't ask me for this gun, I paid a shit ton of money for it." Laughter rings out softly as every cell in your body resists the urge to strangle him.

"Don't worry man, I just wanted to ask." Your head tilts to the side closer to his ear as you whisper.

"Just how fucking dumb are you?"

Squelch

Your hand is bruising on his wrist that's holding his gun. Blood seeps out of his mouth as he coughs. The knife you thrusted into his chest where you hoped the heart was pulled out.

He gives his best to struggle the gun into a position he can shoot you but you didn't survive this long to be weak enough for that. The gun clatters loudly as it hits the floor, his mouth opens to scream but your arm gags him.

Bite marks litter your sleeve, hands punch and grab at anything but it's useless as you stab him again. Stabbing him repeatedly your fake grin twitches and twists into something unhinged.

It's useless to resist, your actions scream as you bring his dying body to the ground. A chuckle leaves you as you raise the knife high into the air and watch his eyes go wide with fear. It's cathartic, nearly healing, but you know nothing will heal you after this.

You stab him for what seemed like hours until his body is bloody with torn clothes. Bile and spit drip out of his mouth as his eyes stay open, his mouth frozen in a screaming formation.

Thoughts stab at your consciousness as you stumble over to your father's dead body. You could have just called the police and had him arrested. Maybe get one of the people who liked your dad to avenge him. You didn't have to do that.

But you did and you couldn't regret it. Resting your head on your father's chest as the tears and broken sobs are muffled in his clothes you continue to berate yourself.

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The blinding pain from your wounds is what drags you out of memory lane. The new wound from Shenhe isn't something you even want to see anymore. The lightheadedness you got from the blood you lost is making you dizzy.

Your medical kit is dug out and you apply the proper care for it. It hurts to even lift it but there's no one to help you so you push past the pain. Slowly, you walk to the edge and look down.

Cursing your bad luck you stare at the statue of the seven on a floating rock piece. Gliding was hard by itself, let alone landing on a small piece with such little experience.

Hissing in pain, you clutch the wound and close your eyes. You didn't have much of a choice, if you wait too long you might get permanent damage. What if the statue couldn't even heal you, you'd be losing time to get to Bubu's Pharmacy.

With a few insults to Shenhe, you deploy the glider and set for the statue. It's not that far and you land fairly easily. Good enough for your first solo glide.

With wary eyes, you inspect your surroundings before touching the statue. The glow it gives off is almost traumatic to your first day after getting thrown into Teyvat. You can only hope that this time you'll be able to handle the Archons better.

The puncture in your shoulder seals up nicely until not even a scar is left. The scrapes, laceration from Mountain Shaper, neck wounds from Cloud Retainer, and even some injuries you failed to notice heal up completely. You note the slight discomfort you feel from the wounds you didn't get to clean. It seems the statue can't deal with healing and preventing infections.

Even still everything you wanted to do is done now, it's best you leave before- "Pardon me."

A smile graces your face with ease as you turn around to face the handsome man. An overwhelming aura that silently demands respect paired with the manners of a humble citizen.

Zhongli's eyes glow with elemental power as he speaks with a voice that lulls you into a sense of security.

"Would you be willing to answer some questions?"

The only question is whether he came here as Zhongli or as the Geo Archon.

This one had a lot of different things going on. From the hilichurl to Shenhe and the long awaited Zhongli! I know there's a lot of components in my story and I hate to confuse you guys so I try to give little explanations when certain things become relevant. I am glad to get part of Y/N's backstory out! This is explaining the single life Y/N 'selfishly' killed before being thrown into Teyvat. I hope you guys enjoyed the gradual shift when it comes to gliding. First Ayato carried, then a team glide with the guys and finally Y/N by themself! Now I really need to start Fontaine before I'm spoiled by social media. I'm too curious for my own good. Yet again, my editor did good on this chapter despite how many times I was berated for normal mistakes. (If your name is italicized that means I couldn't tag you.) Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl , @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx , @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet

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moonyscribe · 10 days ago

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Pebbles - trans Regulus - word count: 1047

I wanted to write a moment between Reggie and Sirius where Regulus comes out to him as trans. I had this little idea a while ago and I finally got it written down :)

lmk how you like it and if I should make more :))

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Regulus Black was not a girl. No one knew that, of course. He had known all his life—but only last year, on his tenth birthday when he had discovered the name “Regulus” in Latin class, had he truly come to terms with this fact. To anyone else, he would be known as his deadname which stung horribly when it was uttered. He would hate to cause distress and disturbance amongst the Black family because of his ‘confusion’, as his mother would likely call it. And to disgrace himself was to disgrace the entire Black family. Mortifying. Regulus shuddered off the thought as he stared across the lake in his backyard. One might find having a lake in your backyard to be odd, but for the Black family, it was perfectly acceptable. The air was crisp and clean. The soft breeze brushed his face and hair. The sun was closer to the horizon than to its apex so it glittered brightly atop the dark water. A soft crunch of the small stones behind Regulus alerted him of someone approaching. He tensed subconsciously and braced himself for some kind of reprimanding.

“Relax, Celie,” Regulus’s brother, Sirius, drawled. Celie. Regulus hated the nickname. Almost as much as he hated the femininity of Celeste.

“Hello, Sirius,” Regulus replied blandly as Sirius took a seat next to him. Sirius was everything Regulus wanted to be and yet everything Regulus couldn’t be. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be, per se… it was just… Regulus saw what his mother did to Sirius—regardless of whether he was supposed to or not. Muffled cries still rang in his ears when the silencing charms began to fade. He saw the blood staining the carpet that Kreacher had not yet cleaned. He watched Sirius limp and wince whenever he walked after one of those nights. So Celeste he was, and Celeste he’d stay.

“Alright?” Sirius prompted Regulus, fiddling with the small pebbles surrounding them.

“Fine,” Regulus huffed. He wasn’t in the mood for speaking. He curled his knees up to his chest and rested his head against them. He hadn’t been in the mood to talk with Sirius ever since he had gotten back from Hogwarts. He would rant every day about how wonderful Gryffindor house was and all about his new best friends and how much fun he had… without Regulus.

“Are you sure?” Sirius pressed. Regulus didn’t respond. He didn’t feel like lying. Sirius poked Regulus’s arm. “Come on, I know when my little sister isn’t happy,” another silence. “Can I please know what’s wrong, Celie?” Regulus sighed, pulling away from his brother. He heard Sirius stand as the small rocks under foot slid down and into the water. Regulus lifted his head and watched them all plop into the lake. It was likely that those pebbles would never be graced with sunlight ever again, condemned to a lifetime imprisonment of the cerulean depths of the water.

“Sirius,” Regulus said. No turning back now…

“Hm?”

“What do you know about the name ‘Regulus’?” Regulus asked cautiously.

“Well,” Sirius began. “I know that it’s a star. I learned that in our dearest mumsie’s latin classes.” Sirius’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Why?”

“Just… What do you think of it? As a name?” Regulus said, growing more anxious by the minute.

Sirius skipped another rock and watched it skid across the surface of the water before saying, “Regulus? I think it’s a good name. Much better than Sirius, obviously.”

Regulus swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. “What if… what if it was my name?”

Sirius paused before skipping another rock, turning to look over at Regulus. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just… Is it alright if I’m a boy?” Regulus squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. This was a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. He shouldn’t have said anything—

Sirius considered for a moment before shrugging and plopping down next to Regulus. “I don't see what not.”

Regulus blinked, bewildered. “Th—that’s it?!”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, placing an arm around Regulus’s shoulders. “Your name is Regulus and you’re a boy. Easy as that.”

“B—but won’t mother and father—”

“This isn’t about them,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “This is about what you want.”

Regulus considered for a moment. “But—”

Sirius interrupted him by hauling Regulus to his feet. “Come on,” Sirius said. “Let’s test this out.” He said, gesturing to the lake.

“What?”

“Just watch me,” Sirius picked up a disk-like pebble. “You can be a boy. Anyone who wants to can be a boy, Regulus,” Sirius flicked the rock and watched as it skips across the water smoothly before sinking. “That,” he said with a dramatic flip of his hair. “is how you become a man.”

“By… skipping rocks,” Regulus watched as Sirius found another disk-like pebble and pressed it into Regulus’s palm.

“Exactly,” Sirius nodded. “Go on. Give it a go.”

Regulus recalled how Sirius had done it. It seemed easy enough. Regulus mimicked the way Sirius flicked the pebble across the water and watched it skip three times before sinking.

“Not half bad…” Sirius said in a satisfied tone.

“Sirius, what does this have to do with me being a boy?” Regulus questioned.

“Reggie,” Sirius said incredulously. “Skipping rocks is one of the fundamental principles that transition you from being a boy to a man. It might be one of the manliest things a man could do.”

“That’s redundant,” Regulus stated.

“Whatever,” Sirius waved it off. “The point is: you can be a boy, Reg. I accept you for it and I will willingly beat up anyone who doesn’t. But this is how a boy becomes a man. Believe me. Snivellus couldn’t skip a rock if his life depended on it, and Pete can’t do it either. You’ve already got it. You don’t have to tell our parents unless you want to. If you don’t feel safe doing so, they don’t deserve to know,” Sirius crouched down to select another flat pebble. He handed it to Regulus. “I’m glad you could tell me, Reg.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” Regulus hugged his brother.

“‘Course, Reggie,” Sirius ruffled Regulus’s hair.

Regulus smiled fondly at Sirius and then at the pebble in his hand before flicking it across the lake and watching it skid over the water before sinking to the bottom of the lake.

#marauders #sirius black #regulus black #black brothers #trans regulus #coming out #marauders fic #dead gay wizards from the 70s #the marauders era #writing #headcanon #creative writing #i need sleep #my writing #lmk if you want more

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vesselandmoon · 8 months ago

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Riding the Rails

NSFW so please, 18+ for readers on this one. This has nothing to do with the main Sleep Token fic I've been working on, it's just smut for the sake of it I suppose.

I was going to wait until tomorrow but here. For @hookedhobbies thank you for talking me up. Please read the content warnings and tags. If I forgot something, let me know and I'll add it.

CW: blindfold, pegging, praise

When Celie is allowed to be an altar for an offering to Vessel, she gets pulled into a situation she didn't expect.

Celie dropped her bag inside her bedroom door, wondering how the hell any of this happened. One ritual and within a month she was moved in and basically a pet. The guys had been gone but she expected them back. Maybe they were sleeping? She didn’t know what was expected of her but she’d be damned if she walked away after what happened before.

On her bed a white box with a black ribbon caught her attention. On the tag was oddly neat handwriting requesting that if she was interested, she should put the outfit on and open the door at midnight. Weird, it had no name.

Inside was a corset made of soft velvet. Deep crimson with black lace and thin leather strips connecting to a collar. Maybe II? She tilted her head and poked around some more to find sheer stockings, a garter belt, and black heels but the shorts were what caught her attention. Tight, black, and fitted for a toy which she found off to the side.

“Oh,” she said, blush spreading across her cheeks. Whoever it was wanted her to peg him? It wasn’t something she was too familiar with but she’d wanted to experiment more with it. The thing was, who wanted it? For sure it wasn’t III. He would have thrown it to her, gotten her a stool, and told her to get to work.

Celie smirked at the thought but there was still a question of who. With the blindfold that completed the outfit she was sure she wasn’t going to know until she was engaged in the act. Still, it intrigued her.

Twenty minutes to get ready. She quickly washed up, heart pounding as she got into the outfit, checking the clock constantly. Someone was outside the door. Their shadow moved a little here and there with seemingly anxious energy but there was no sound. No voice. He was keeping quiet though a couple minutes to midnight he was pacing.

She took a deep breath and secured the blindfold, swallowing hard against the leather collar. A gentle knock at the door and she opened it, feeling the figure on the other side fall still. She could practically feel his gaze on her and she shifted uncomfortably before he moved past her, the scent of laundry detergent following him.

No help there. All of them used the same damn soap. Celie bit her lip when she felt him so very close but not touching her, the door closing with a soft click. He locked it then took her fingertips in his and led her toward the bed.

“Are you…” she inhaled. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

He touched her lips and guided her head in a slow motion of “no”.

“Even if I guess? Even if I know?” she asked and again he guided her to “no.”

“Will you speak at all?” she asked as she heard fabric sliding off his body.

“Yes.” His reply was barely a whisper and heat flooded through her body.

She knew.

“I… if you want me to stop, I need you to have a safe word. Do you have one or do you want me to make one up?”

“You.”

Celie could feel his hand around the thick cock he’d chosen for their encounter, the tugging gentle and slow. She wished she could see it. Wished she could feel it as her own flesh. All she knew was that he had lowered himself though whether he was sitting at the edge of the bed or was on the floor she couldn’t be sure.

Fingertips grazed the line of her garter straps, sending shivers up her legs. She wanted to touch him. To feel his face, his hair, his body, and yet there was hesitation. Instead she tested the limits, resting her hands on his but she didn’t shy away. He wrapped a hand around the all too realistic cock, stroking it.

“How about honeycomb?” she asked and a faint chuckle met her ears.

“Yes.”

It was Vessel. It had to be.

“I should probably tell you I’m not that experienced with this,” she admitted. He took her hands, pressing his thumbs into her palms to keep the touch minimum but she could hear something wet. Feel hot breath on the thin strip of flesh between the corset and her shorts, feel the slight motion of the dildo. Was he sucking it?

A low moan escaped him and she felt him take more of the cock in his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat. If only she could feel it as her own flesh. The memory of his tongue delving into her, searching out traces of cum left by the others made her ache for him. She imagined what it would be like to feel the back of his throat squeezing as he swallowed.

He helped himself for a time and she wished she could see his mouth stretch wide. Frankly, she wasn’t sure how he’d take the dildo. It was impressive. Close to IV’s girth but a little longer. Not quite as long as III. Then again, if Vessel was involved with either of them (which she assumed he was) then taking this might not be too difficult for him.

A sucking pop and shuffling in front of her signaled that he had moved but it took him a moment to guide her over to the bed. He pressed a bottle to her hand. Lube? She felt around on it, convinced she was right, when the bed creaked slightly.

Tentatively she reached out, patting about in air before finally finding skin. His lower back and ass. He was leaned across the edge of the bed, ready for her. She could feel the muscles in his thigh shifting as she explored a bit of his body.

“I wish I could see you,” Celie said, mouth gone dry as she felt him spread himself open for her.

Lubed fingers were met with a sharp little gasp and Celie squeezed her thighs together. He was so soft. So warm. The tip of her finger pressed against his ass, feeling it clench with anticipation, then relax. She slid the finger deeper, curling it toward his prostate. He arched his back, pushing her deeper still and she let out a breathy chuckle.

Celie’s mind raced with questions. Why her? Why not ask one of the others? Surely a real cock and someone proficient in using it would have made for a more enjoyable evening and yet he’d gone through so much trouble to put together an entire outfit for this. He’d thought about it. Knew what he wanted, even if she didn’t understand why.

Vessel reached around and grabbed the cock, pulling her closer until it was poised to enter him. He was eager and frankly, she was so turned on at the thought of him spread open for her, she was willing to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it.

She slid the head of the dildo across his ass, pressing in every so slightly only to stop and continue rubbing. Teasing. Never letting it enter him, not even the head. He pushed back against her and she pulled away.

“Relax,” she said, gripping his hips to keep him in place. “We have all night, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, tone tinged with impatience, but she felt the tension ease a little from his body.

“Let me enjoy you.” Celie barely pushed the tip of the dildo against him again before leaning over to kiss his back. He stiffened but didn’t tell her to stop so she dragged her nails down his sides, feeling him arch down into the bed, his hips a little higher.

How was her heart pounding so damn hard? She bit her lip, trying to slow her breathing but he was getting impatient as she continued to tease him. Nails and soft kisses, slick wet sounds of lube as she rocked her hips.

“Please,” he muttered and Celie stopped. “Please,” he asked, a little louder.

The desire to hear him beg flared up in her belly but she didn’t know the limit. Not yet.

Celie put a little more lube on her fingers, stroking it along the shaft of the dildo before guiding it with the other hand. She could hear him take a deep breath as she poised to enter him only for it to escape in a soft moan when she finally pushed the tip into him.

Her fingertips stayed in place, feeling the cock sink into him little by little with every leisurely thrust. She tried to concentrate on what he must look like. How he was stretching around the dildo with those sweet little pants and groans escaping his lips.

“You’re taking me so well,” she said, testing his reaction to her praise. In response he pushed back, driving more of the toy into himself and eliciting a surprised giggle from Celie. “You’re so needy. Calm down love, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Love…” he repeated, contemplative, as if he was rolling the word around in his head. Feeling it. Testing it. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I’d still rather take it slow.” Celie pulled almost all the way out, using one hand to keep track of the depth while the other gripped his hip for leverage. “Without being able to see, I can’t tell how deep I am in you. Maybe it would help if I was on top?”

He let out a thoughtful hum but didn’t move besides pushing back against her, taking the cock and rocking her back a little. He wanted it all the way and his frustrated groan told her as much.

“Fuck sake. So damn impatient. Fine but don’t say I didn’t try,” she said, pulling back and slamming into him all the way to her hips.

Vessel let out a sound somewhere between a sharp exhale and a moan, his breath coming in trembling gasps. She took several deep but tentative thrusts before figuring out how far she could pull back and still keep the cock safely inside of him.

She could feel him move, feel him reach around to grab himself but frustration hit her like a truck and she slapped his ass so hard he hissed in pain.

“If you won’t be patient enough for me to fuck you how I want, then you can’t touch yourself until I tell you.” The moment the words left her mouth she doubted if she’d made the right choice. Had she said that to the others they might have laughed at her and done what they wanted anyway but Vessel relented with a quiet “yes” and put his hands behind his back.

Celie let go of his hips and grabbed his wrists instead. She knew his cock was rubbing on the edge of her bed with every thrust and it would have to be his relief for now. Her confidence grew as the sting of her hand ached with every beat of her heart.

“Hm I wish I could feel this,” she breathed, driving hard into him. “I wish I could feel that tight ass squeezing around me. God you take it so well. So fucking well. I bet you’re pretty when you get fucked.”

She half expected him to stop her, to tell her to tone it down or become uncomfortable but instead her coaxing had him trembling, his groans devolving into desperate moans.

“You like when I dirty talk you?” she asked but he didn’t reply. Another swift smack on his ass and he tensed up, a sharp cry escaping his lips. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes,” he breathed.

“You’re being so good for me.” Celie changed positions a little, adjusting her angle which had Vessel’s moans become muffled. She leaned forward and traced a hand around his jaw to feel that he was biting a blanket. “No, let it go. I just told you how good you’re being and now you want to act up? Good boy,” she praised as he released the blanket from his clenched jaw.

One hand still around his wrists, though she knew she couldn’t stop him from pulling away if he wanted, she snaked the other hand around to wedge two fingers between his teeth. Saliva pooled in his mouth but his moans were much more apparent, making her eyes roll back. She wanted him so badly it hurt. Her pussy throbbed. Ached. She needed some sort of relief but every thrust against him only did so much.

Soft desperate whines in the back of Vessel’s throat became wet and he almost gurgled, tongue working around her fingers to swallow the saliva she was sure was dripping from his chin. Celie leaned over, resting her forehead on his back, breath hot on his skin. While she was enjoying it, she needed more. Needed those little moans to turn into begging. Pleading. She wanted to hear his pretty voice cry out for her.

Celie straightened, gripping his wrists with both hands again, fingers on her left hand slick with saliva as she began pounding into him mercilessly.

“Ah fuck,” he whined, squirming against her. His breath came out in harsh pants every time she drove hard into him. “S-stop… stop stop stop,” he begged.

And yet there was no safe word. She would bet his fists were twisted into the sheets, eyes rolling back in his head.

“D-don’t move p-please… please stop. Fuck! I c-can’t I can’t.”

Celie smirked and did just that, pulling entirely out of him and stepping back only for her ears to catch a disappointed whimper.

“Was I too rough, love?” she asked. “I’ll stop, it’s fine. You can get cleaned up now.”

“W-what? No, no wait.

Celie made a show of walking away from him.

“Stop, please. I need this.” The quiet desperation in his tone made her smirk mischievously.

She took several slow steps toward him until she could feel his hands on her hips, soft kisses on her wrists but he was trembling.

“What do you need?” she asked, tracing along his jawline.

“You,” he swallowed.

“What do you need from me? Use your words.”

He hesitated. “I need you to… to make me cum. I need it. Please.”

“Lay on your back,” she demanded and he quickly did so. The bed creaked a little under him and she slid on her knees, guided by him until she could grab his ass again. She pushed the back of his thighs until his knees were spread wide and folded closer to his body.

The head of the dildo slipped easily into his well lubed ass and he bucked against her, the sound of his own cock faintly slapping on his belly with the movement.

Celie wrapped a hand around his shaft, rolling her thumb over the tip, feeling precum.

“Look how wet you are for me,” she smirked tasting him from her thumb.

Vessel moaned in response as she gripped the back of his knees and pushed the dildo so deep in him that he grabbed at the straps of the harness.

“So needy,” she purred, putting her weight on his thighs. “You’re taking me all the way and you still want more? I didn’t take you for such a greedy little cock slut, my love.”

“D-don’t,” he whimpered.

“Don’t what? Come on, use your big boy words,” she teased, pulling out only to fuck back into him the second he started to speak, chocking him on his own words.

“I’ll cum,” he admitted once he could breath.

“Isn’t that the point? Don’t you want me to make you cum?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh? You want me to drag it out? Make you suffer? Well, I don’t plan on letting you cum yet anyway but you’re just going to have to deal with the teasing. I like hearing you beg.”

Celie gripped the headboard with one hand, using it as leverage before she kicked off her heels and was finally able to drive into him harder. Fucking him felt so… empowering. The way he writhed and bucked against her. The way he whimpered. She could feel his belly tremble under her free hand, his cock twitching against her wrist with every thrust.

“Come on, make noise for me,” she said but he choked down a moan. “Be a good boy and tell me what you want.”

“H-harder…”

“Do I need a bigger cock for you, love? These needy little whimpers… fuck Vess, I bet you look so pretty right now.” She noticed how desperate her own voice was getting. “God I want to see you stretched open. I want to see you choke on this cock, tears in those gorgeous eyes… fuck you’re cruel.”

“H-how?” he managed to ask through increasingly frustrated thrusts from her.

“You get all the fun. I can’t even see you getting fucked. I can’t feel this thing, I can’t feel you, I can’t… fuck I can’t even get off.”

She expected some kind of reply but all he did was arch his back and moan with an oddly knowing, breathy chuckle. Was this part of his game? To torment her. She’d make him pay for it. Her shorts were soaked through, body aching. Trembling almost as bad as his.

His fingers traced down her lip to grip the collar around her throat and pull her in close. Desperation and anger welled up in her and she slapped his hands away before pounding into him hard, doing to him what she wanted done to her.

“Come on Vess, if nothing else I need you to make noise for me. Tell me what you want.”

“T-touch me.”

“No.”

“Please… please I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Celie gripped his cock and smeared his precum across the head. “Louder.”

“Please!”

His cock throbbed and twitched with every thrust and her thighs were beginning to burn but she kept up the pace. He tried to grab her hand, to force her to grip him harder but she smacked his ass so hard her hand stung and he cried out.

“I bet you clench so fucking hard around my cock when I slap you. What a dirty little tease. Do you want to cum for me? I want you to cum all over that pretty belly.”

“I need it,” he whimpered. “I need to—”

Celie pounded into him and the words melted into a sharp cry.

“Make me cum, please. Don’t stop.”

He was practically clawing at the headboard, and she swore she heard tears in his voice. He was reduced to a high pitched breathy whine, pleading with desperation.

Celie clenched her jaw and continued to rail him. “Are you going to cum for me? My messy, needy little slut. You sound so pretty. So fucking needy. Beg for it.”

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” his words came out as a singular string of whimpers as she stroked his cock to the same harsh pace that’s he fucked him until all she could hear was a strangled cry and feel the heat of his cum as he shot rope after hot rope across his belly and chest.

Celie chuckled breathlessly, driving the cock deep into him as she slowly rubbed his cum all over his cock, making his body jerk and twitch.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” he said, trying to make her stop as overstimulation wracked his body.

“You said don’t stop. What’s wrong? You don’t like getting the same torture you give?”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” His high-pitched pleas ended abruptly as he ripped her hands away from his cock. He laughed, breathy and weak. “You want to know a secret?”

“What?” she asked, still buried deep inside of him but now caressing his inner thighs as he went limp.

“There was a toy for you in that box,” he chuckled. “You were supposed to have it in during this.”

All the color drained from her face. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” he laughed. “Come here… I suppose I should return the favor. Love.” He flipped her to her back with ease. “So, safe word is still honeycomb?”

#sleep token smut #genuinely hope this doesnt suck #god i hope they never find this account #i would die of embarrassment #occasional misbehavior fic

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weaselandfriends · 4 months ago

Note

was there any particular meaning to Cely's unique underlined text in When I Win? Is it just to represent a unique way of speaking/thinking?

There were a few reasons.

First, I listened to a lot of people speaking in a Valley Girl accent to prepare for writing Aracely, and decided on the underline to best indicate a particular type of emphasis used that was "softer" than what I would consider the emphasis of italics to convey, based on what I heard.

Second, I like dialogue quirks in general (Homestuck influence) and the underline is something that sets Cely apart as "special," which makes sense for her character. There are a few notable parts where she uses italics instead of the underline, including during the scene where Nilufer tries to kidnap her and in the epilogue.

Lastly, the line motif factors into the "line of history" that gets spoken about at many points throughout the story. Several other aspects of the story use straight line-based typography, including Toril's dialogue (which relies on an abundance of emdashes) and the lines in the chapter titles. As I mentioned in an earlier ask, my original working title for the story was Unbroken Line of History.

#when i win the world ends #wiw #bavitz #anonymous

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windglassgirls · 1 year ago

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I've always enjoyed the implication of the abyssals as fallen ship girls. It also implies that the ship girls are just mass produced materials (which I mean lbr they are) but then where does their personality come from? It's all so interesting. Ah no matter how I've moved on from Kancolle to other media it still finds its way back to me and I'm glad it still sticks with me. I mean this sideblog's first url was Kancoolle.

#cely speaks

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cheeseceli · 1 year ago

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Jeongin likes to boost your self-esteem through clothes. He will spend hours shopping with you and he doesn't mind if in the end you didn't like anything. He praises you in every outfit you try and will encourage you to buy the things you liked (but he will pay for it ofc)

"You look amazing. Don't think about people's comments. Do you like it?" and he's already with his card on hand because even though you're skeptical he can see the way your eyes shine when looking at the mirror

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ask-steven-the-wolf · 9 months ago

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Guten morgen everyone!

It may be hard to see but mutter and Celie got me a new shirt yesterday! It says most impressive father <3 you guys have no idea how happy that makes me ^.^ I love my little Engel so very much <3 <3 <3 tell all your loved ones you love them, they need to hear it ^^

#build a bear #plush life #off to work #breakfast #albrecht mouse #albrecht speaks #Celie bunny

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miela · 1 year ago

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Shattered Memories • Chapter IV: What Friends Are For • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: Idk tbh, some regular degular conversations between friends. Chapter Warnings: None (???) Masterlist

↪ divider by firefly-graphics

A girlish scream came from the doorway of the restaurant and you winced knowing exactly who it was. You looked over to see Celina running towards you and hugging you tightly almost knocking the wind out of you and out of your seat at the bar.

“Oh my god, (Y/N),” Celi exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you!”

Celina was wearing a black fitted cropped cardigan that had a sweetheart neckline and a dark purple, floral-lace, high-waisted mini skirt with a black belt. Her long, brown hair was pulled up into a bun on top of her head and her bangs fell on her forehead and around the frame of her face. A tattoo choker and a velvet choker with a silver moon charm on it wrapped around her neck and she had silver moons hanging from her ears and various silver rings on her fingers. Her nails were black and her makeup was simple but bold with thick eyeliner and dark purple lips. She seemed a little taller but it was because of the ankle demonia boots she was wearing.

She reminded you of a character that would be in a film that was a cross between Sabrina Spellman from The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and a character from The Craft which just happens to be two of her favorite things to watch.

“Hey, Celi,” you smiled and hugged back. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Damn, Celina,” you heard a familiar voice chuckle, coming from behind her. “Don’t choke her to death.”

Ned was wearing a simple outfit that contrasted with Celina’s very detailed look. He wore a black tee shirt with a pair of denim jeans, a blue letterman jacket with white sleeves with MIT in red letters on it, and red classic vans. He wore a red beanie and a pair of black glasses.

Celi pulled back and looked at him. “Darling, you and I both know that I don’t even have half of the capacity to choke her out,” she giggled.

Celina and Ned have been dating for 4 and a half years. Almost immediately after the day at the Statue of Liberty, she went to train with the sorcerers at the Sanctum Sanctorum. Six months later she was able to speak for the time in her life. You remember the first thing she did was confess her love to Ned just to find out that he felt the same way she did. They’ve been together ever since.

And she was a chatterbox but all of you loved that about her.

“Ned!” You exclaimed and got up and hugged him.

“Hey (Y/N)!” He matched your energy and tone and hugged you back. “It’s been, like, way too long since any of us have seen you.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” You apologized genuinely as you pulled away.

You turn slightly to see another figure you haven’t seen in a while. She was wearing a plain white tee that was tucked into black, distressed mom jeans that were rolled up at the hem, an oversized denim jacket that was rolled up at the sleeves, and white Converse. Her hair was chin-length and curly and she had minimal makeup on. It contrasted your black leather jacket, black AC/DC Band tee, black distressed fitted jeans, and your black Doc Martens.

She gave you a blank expression.

You looked back at her with the same expression. “Michelle.”

“(Y/N).” She responded and squinted at you.

You do the same as Ned and Celina looked at each of you silently. You two eyed each other for a good ten seconds before you cracked under the false tension and giggled. She snorted and did the same thing.

“Come here, you loser.” She smiled and held her arms open.

You quickly hugged your best friend as she hugged you back for a moment and rocked side to side. Ned and Celina let out a relieved sigh and laugh.

“Nice to know you’re not a hologram,” she joked.

“I missed you too, MJ,” you chuckle as you pull back.

You all sat down at a table and began catching up immediately. You found out that MJ had gotten into theater as a side gig and wanted to audition for something bi, Celina started a YouTube channel and began taking singing lessons and Ned was working on his Master’s Program at MIT. You told them about life as a CEO and how the first year is driving you crazy already and how Morgan is a pain in the ass but you love her nonetheless. You guys laughed and gossiped about the little things and talked about your future plans as you guys ate. You guys sat there for a while.

“So, I have some news,” Celina smiled.

We all looked at her wondrously and she showed her hand with a beautiful diamond ring on it and a smug smile on her face. You and MJ had shocked expressions on your faces as you looked from each other to her to Ned who smiled at the two of you.

“We’re engaged,” he chimed.

You squealed and got up hugged them both and sang congratulations to them repeatedly. MJ also got up and hugged them. Once you guys settled back into your seats, Celina continued to tell you how they got engaged. It was something they started talking about and then one day at a dinner at his family’s house, he got on one knee and asked. She cried even though she knew it was going to happen at some point, but this doesn’t surprise you because Celina was always a softie at heart.

“Enough about us,” Celina giggled. “What about you two? Any love interests.”

“Nah,” MJ said. “Been too busy with auditions and stuff. But I also don’t want anything right now.”

“Valid,” Celina responded and shifted her eyes to you. “And you?”

You instantly thought about Peter and debated on telling them about him or not. You opened your mouth and then closed it pressing your lips together before sighing and looking up and over at particularly nothing and you thought of what to say to them.

“Aht-Aht, Nuh-Uh,” MJ started. “You’re doing your I’m-About-To-Tell-A-Lie face.”

You looked at her with a defensive smile, “I am not!”

“You are,” Ned replied with a smirk. “Like you’re about to tell us a big lie.”

“I am not!”

“You can’t fool us,” Celina said crossing her arms over her chest and looking at you suspiciously. “We know you too well.”

You looked to each of your friends staring you down to hear your response before you sighed in defeat.

“Okay! Okay,” you started throwing your hands up in a defensive surrender. “There is someone but…”

How could you tell to them when even you don’t have all of the answers to whatever was going on between you and Peter and your unknown past? Plus, since Ned and MJ know him from the coffee shop you didn't want Michelle to grill him like she probably would.

“But?” Celina sang in encouragement for you to continue.

“It’s….complicated.” You stated.

MJ's brows furrowed. "Complicated how?"

"Well," You hesitate to let out a deep breath. "I like him but there's a disconnection. It's like I know him but I don't know him at the same time. And I want to know him but… I dunno, it's like he's afraid of me knowing something."

"Wow," MJ nodded slowly. "That is complicated. And confusing."

"Yeah," you responded. "Remember when I felt like I had that empty space? When I'm with him I feel …complete."

"Awww," Celina cooed with a soft baby animal look in her eye. "That's so cute!"

“Yeah, maybe in some romance book or movie,” you deadpanned. “But I just…I dunno.”

There was a silence that fell over you guys for a long moment before someone spoke again.

“Hey,” Ned smiled softly. “If you’re serious about this guy, I would just communicate with him a little better on how you feel.”

“Yeah and if he turns out to be a dudebro, I can vaporize him,” Celina added.

“Dear fucking god, no,” you replied blinking your eyes in disbelief. “No vaporizing.”

“I was joking,” Celina sang. “I don’t even know how to vaporize people…yet.”

You all giggled softly.

“In all honesty, you can always turn to us when you need help,” MJ smiled at you.

“Thanks, you guys,” you smiled.

“Of course,” MJ replied. “What are friends for?”

Later on, you guys went in separate ways with Celina and Ned leaving together hand-in-hand, and MJ and you walked in the opposite direction. You two were in no rush to part so you walked at a slow pace.

“So,” she started. “Tell me what’s really going on with you and mystery man.”

You look at her. Damn it. “I can’t keep anything from you can I?”

“Of course not,” She said in a tone that said ‘obviously’, “I’m the Michelle John Watson to your Sherstark Holmes. We’re partners, I know you more than you know yourself sometimes.”

You laughed at her statement. “Very true, very true.”

She smiled. “So tell me. What’s going on, girl.”

You let out a sigh and stopped walking, she took a few steps before she noticed that you stopped and followed suit and turned to look at you with a worried look on her face.

“You remember those dreams I told you about?”

“Yeah, faceless boy right?”

You nodded. “It’s him.”

Her eyes widened for a moment and then they squinted in thought, “So they really are memories…”

“Yeah,” you press your lips together. “And I think he knows it.”

“...Is it that guy you asked us about? Peter Parker.”

You looked at her silently. Fuck. Sometimes you forget how perceptive and observant MJ is. And her memory was always on point, especially when it came to attention to detail.

“He knows us doesn’t he?” She added.

You stayed silent.

“And we know him.”

You hesitate a second before nodding.

“But we don’t remember him.”

You nodded again.

“Do you think it’s like some…premonition or something? Maybe Celina can help.”

You shake your head. “Not until I have enough information on it.”

She held her chin in between her fingers and she looked up in thought. “I could get it out of him for you.”

“No, Michelle,” you said sternly. “Please I am begging you don’t interrogate him. I did that already and if you do it he’ll nearly piss himself and probably leave the country. I’m not chasing him around the world.”

“Nah, you would,” She responded. “If it meant you being able to solve your migraine problem, you would.”

You would. You sighed.

“Fine, I won’t grill him. I’ll leave it in your hands.” She raised her hands in surrender. “But you know where to find me if shit gets real.”

You smiled. “I know.”

“Parker, are you still hungover or something?”

Peter looked over at his blonde and blue-eyed friend, Gwen Stacy, who was tapping his shoulder and looking at him with her eyebrow lifted.

Peter was sitting at a table in the food court area with his friends at Empire State University. It was a thing they did in between and after class. Across from him sat Gwen Stacy and next to him sat Harry Osborn. Next to Gwen was her boyfriend, Miles Morales, and next to Miles was Pavitr Prabhakar. Next to Harry sat Cindy Moon.

These were the people Peter surrounded himself with. They were brilliant-minded people who came from different walks of life and Peter had learned so much from them honestly.

Gwen is the daughter of a police captain named George Stacy (who really did not like Spiderman) and she was studying Biochemistry. She had short blonde hair that had pink, purple, and blue dip-dyed tips, bright blue eyes, and light freckles that danced across her cheeks. She had a rocker style and played the drums. Peter knew that you two would get along well because of how similar you guys were. He often imagined what it would be like if you, MJ, and Gwen were best friends with each other. It would be the sarcasm olympics.

He let out a sigh. “No, I’m fine now. Just exhausted.”

And he was. Exhausted anyways. He partied hard Saturday night at Harry’s frat house. He probably went a little too hard. Both Harry and Gwen were concerned with how much he drank and how many edibles he ate that night. He didn’t exactly mean to get so wasted, but he couldn’t get his nerves to calm down.

He couldn’t stop his senses from craving you.

“Then why do you look so sad?” Harry asked from beside him.

Harry Osborn, is the son of Norman Osborn who is the founder, owner, and CEO of Oscorp, a robotics and chemical manufacturing company. He was going to school for business administration. Although Harry was a rich kid he was humble and didn’t really flaunt his financial privilege. His style looked expensive though and probably was. He had dark blonde hair and blue eyes and was a really handsome guy. He was a really nice guy but Peter kept a close eye on his father since in another universe his dad was the green goblin. Harry was also a friend of yours from middle school, so when Peter became friends with him he knew a bit about him already.

“I’m not sad,” Peter defended with not much conviction in his tone.

“Well, he did say you looked sad,” Miles added. “You don’t have to be sad to look sad. But I know you’re lying because your dumbass got what they call ‘white girl wasted’ the other night.”

Miles Morales is the son of Jefferson Davis, another police captain (who also isn’t fond of Spiderman) and former crime-fighting partner to George Stacy. He is married to Rio Morales, who has patched up Spiderman on numerous occasions when things were serious enough that he had to be rushed to the hospital immediately. If she knew his real identity, she never said anything, which he appreciated. Together they had Miles, who is just as much of a genius as you are. He went to MIT for Engineering but graduated with his degree within two years and is now going to ESU for an art degree. He was brilliant at Graffiti art and often did mural commissions for different buildings as a side gig. He had black hair with a fade undercut that had a thunderbolt-like design on the sides and back of his head and big brown eyes. Peter met him through Gwen.

“I did not get ‘white girl wasted’.” Peter defended again. “I got wasted but definitely not ‘white-girl wasted’.”

“Dude, seriously?” Pavitr added. “You were crying so hard at one point that you threw up all over the yard. I don’t think the grass needed your emotions all over them.”

Pavitr Prabhakar is from India and he came to New York when he was fourteen on a scholarship to Horizon High, a school for brilliant and genius minds. He had big brown eyes and the most luscious hair Peter had ever seen. He was almost jealous of it. Nobody believed him when he said that he only uses coconut oil in his hair. Pav also went to MIT and graduated early and was now going to ESU for an art degree. He is notably really good at doing yo-yo tricks and poi flow arts and often will show off his tricks at parties. He was also really good at doing stunts and he and Peter would often go to the gym and practice parkour moves there.

“So, I had a little too much to drink,” Peter admitted. “And too much of everything else but I promise you I’m fine.”

Gwen hummed not believing a word he said.

“Then, tell us,” Cindy started. “Who’s the girl you were all upset about?”

Peter looked at her shocked.

“You said her name at the party,” she added. “And she’s definitely not one of us.”

Cindy Moon is someone Peter knew from Midtown Tech. She was briefly friends with Celina when they were in the same Hallyu club together. Cindy had long black hair with wispy bangs and almond-shaped brown eyes. She was Gwen’s best friend. Peter didn’t know much about her family, mostly because she never liked to talk about it, but they bonded over their time at Midtown Tech and how they should have become friends sooner. Not that it would have mattered. She was going to school for a communications major.

Peter looked at each of his friends one by one and they looked back at him suspiciously and expectantly. He then sighed and his shoulders dropped. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to even try to explain to them anything about this situation. It was already crazy enough for him to understand but then to try and explain it in the simplest way possible without sounding like he’s gone absolutely sideways, but he’d try. He was clever and smart so he could figure out a way.

“Alright, fine I’ll tell you,” Peter started. “But don’t make it weird.”

Each of them threw out ‘okays’ and ‘promise’ before they all turned their undivided attention to Peter.

“So…there’s this girl.”

“I knew it!” Gwen exclaimed. “Pay up, Osborn.”

Peter looked from one blonde to another with his face twisted in an expression of confusion and disbelief. Harry cursed under his breath and sighed as pulled out his wallet. Seriously?

“You guys bet on this?” Peter asked his tone one of disbelief.

“Yep,” Gwen smirked. “In levels. Depending on how this goes I might walk out of here with 20 bucks or one hundred.”

Peter blinked but smirked softly at the two of them curiosity filling his mind. “Okay, you weirdos, can I continue without your outbursts?”

“Sorry,” Gwen said, genuinely apologetic. “Go on.”

“Alright, so there’s this girl, and…she forgot who I am.” He explained sheepishly.

“Oh?” Pav asked lifting an eyebrow.

“How?” Harry asked with furrowed brows. “Like…literally forgot who you are? Or like ‘left you in the dust for some other person’ kind of forgot?”

“Literally,” Peter nodded. “Kind of like Amnesia.”

“Jinjja?” Cindy exclaimed in her mother tongue of Korean. (translation: “Really?”)

“We were…dating and then she forgot about me and….now she’s back in my life because she knows that she knows me but she doesn’t remember me. And it’s been causing her to have these really bad migraines and honestly…I don’t know how to help her yet because whenever I’m close to her, her migraines get worse. She has a doctor that she works with but I dunno if she’s been actually going to them. And I can’t tell her ‘Hey, I’m your boyfriend from five years ago’ or some shit like that. That sounds so…so creepy and… manipulative.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Gwen replied. “Unless she was like super rich or something.”

Peter looked at Gwen and pressed his lips together with a look that told her that her statement was in fact true. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“So she’s a trust fund baby like Harrison over here!”

“It’s Harold,” Harry corrected. “And don’t call me that either.”

Peter took a deep breath. “I just don’t want to make this any more difficult for her than it already is and I don’t want her thinking that I’m only after her fortune. I couldn’t care less about how much money she has.” He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you talking about (Y/N)?” Harry asked.

Peter looked his way with a careful look. “Uhm…” He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Y-Yeah…it’s (Y/N).”

“Stark?!” Gwen exclaimed. “You were dating (Y/N) Stark.” It came out more like a statement rather than a question. “You almost had me there, Peter Parker.”

“You don’t believe me?” Peter asked raising an eyebrow.

“ I would believe you more if you told us that you’re Spiderman,” Miles added with a look of disbelief.

Peter nearly snorted. Man, if you knew.

“I believe you,” Cindy interjected and everyone looked at her confused. “We went to Midtown Tech with her. I didn’t know her personally, but we talked a few times. She’s really cool. It makes sense for them to be together. You seem like her type. She always talked about her study dates with a cute, nerdy guy with Michelle Jones-Watson.”

Peter smiled a little to himself and blushed lightly.

“Okay, so if this is true,” Gwen started again. “I understand your sentiment. But I still think you should tell her.”

Peter threw his head back and sighed. “But what if it makes things difficult? What if it makes her migraines worse? Or…what if she doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore…?”

He had a hard time admitting that part out loud. Even though you both felt the pull and you clearly still felt something for him…or the idea of him anyway, five years is a long time and you both have grown to be different people than when you were seventeen, naive and in love.

But Peter was still in love with you, and he was afraid that it was just because of the idea of you too.

“Well then don’t tell her,” Harry stated matter-of-factly. “Just slowly get to know each other again, and whatever comes up in her memory of you, just let it happen.” He gave him a lopsided grin and a friendly, nonchalant shrug. “Go with the flow, Parker.”

Peter thought about it for a moment. Go with the flow. As simple as it was, that was probably the best advice he could have gotten.

“Yeah,” Cindy agreed. “Think of it as a way to start over and get to know each other in a new light.”

“Wait,” Miles said with a look of realization. “Did you say five years ago?”

“...Yep,” Peter replied, his voice higher than expected due to him having the fear to even confirm it.

“What caused her to forget you?” Pav asked clicking a pen softly in his hand.

“...Concussion,” Peter said. “Head injury during a battle of Spiderman’s.”

“Oh, that battle on the bridge, right?” Gwen asked. “With the Iron Spider Duo, right?”

"Yeah," Peter nodded remembering how you both had almost gotten your asses handed to you during that battle. "That one."

“Damn…” Miles said softly. “That’s a long ass time, and that’s brutal. I hope she gets better soon. Concussions are no joke, man.”

Peter wished he could tell them the full extent of the story.

"Yeah, especially with her migraines, you know? When I'm around her they get worse. It's like she's trying to force me into her memory. And even though I am the missing piece, it's like trying to put two magnets together."

Everyone went silent and everyone had a thoughtful look on their faces as the cogs in their neurons began turning. Peter realized he said something that resonated with their brain cells. He looked at each of his friends repeatedly.

“What?” Peter asked confused.

“That's the problem,” Harry replied. “Putting two magnets together.”

“Yeah? What are you getting at?” Peter asked.

“You have to put yourself into new memories.” Harry continued. “You're already in the old memories right? You're the magnet, her memories are the metal that the magnet attaches to,” He explained. “Since the you five years ago are already attached to those memories. What you need to do is attach yourself to new memories that can possibly replace the old memories."

"So like remaking those memories?"

"Exactly!" Harry smiled. “And it wouldn’t be manipulative, if anything it might help her remember both memories and she can appreciate both of them respectively.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Harry,” Cindy responded with an unsure tone in her voice.

“I mean, it’s worth a shot, no?” Harry glanced at her and shrugged before looking back to Peter. “If that doesn’t work then at least you can say that you tried right? And who knows, you might find out that you guys turn out to be great friends still.”

“Y’know for a frat bro, you’re kinda cool, Harry,” Gwen teased.

“Shut up,” He laughed as he squinted his eyes at her.

Peter chuckled softly before sitting up straight in his chair, “Thanks, you guys,” he smiled at his friends endearingly. “I feel better.”

“Anytime!” Pav smiled.

“But we better get updates on everything,” Gwen said with a serious look on her face but a not-so-serious tone in her voice.

Peter chuckled, “Only if she’s okay with it.”

Tags: @riordanness @chrisevans-realwife @peterdarlingg @thecrystalclarity @brckenmemories @paleprincesssxo

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