#guardian of remembrance

[zelda-of-hyrule-tloz]

Echoes of Wisdom Headcanon Countdown

༺ Day 86▪︎ 15 Left

Terrako likes to ride on the Master Cycle with Zelda. It has a little compartment where it stored anything it can use as fuel and will present it to her when it wants to go for a ride (like a dog or cat would). It even notes Zelda's concerns regarding the fuel (such as what is or isn't wasteful/damaging).

It really helps Zelda relax and adjust to a peaceful life after living towards the sealing of the Calamity.

[sunbroofyharnam]

Peak Fiction

I finished Destiny 2: The Final Shape around 12 hours ago and I still haven't recovered. As someone who started by playing Destiny 1 with my Taken King Collection Edition PS4 and jumped in and out of the series since then, i don't think I could have asked for a better ending to this 10 year Journey.

For those out of the loop, over the past 5 days the FPS video game world basically had its "Endgame" moment. Closing the book on a story that started all the way back in 2014. Its had a very tumultuous time getting here (thats what 3 different publishers including self publishing and many pre-production story reboots will do to you) but it all came together in a beautiful conclusion that in my opinion is the best expansion the series has ever seen by far. IDK I guess stories of loss, grief and purpose just hit me extra hard I suppose. Well anyway now that thats over and done with, how about listening to a classic. Here's Hoping the next years go a bit smoother eh?

[noirandchocolate]

I may have futzed around with regular and EX non-story missions/vicious monsters too much before finishing the main Age of Calamity storyline missions.

Allies: Oh god oh no there's a Malice Hinox in the courtyard!!!

Zelda: *runs in, puts a light ring on it, does her special* No there's not.

Blood Moon: *rises*

Allies: *collective screaming* THE MONSTERS ALL CAME BACK ALIVE?

Zelda, Link, Impa, and Rhoam: *about 3 minutes later* No they didn't.

[korck]

talked about it a bit in my stream but forever upset that they ditched 95% of the lore botw built in totk. this is my house. that isn't my loz lore that's the shitty version of olive garden

[jwood718]

Feel good story: Alaina Demopoulos reporting for The Guardian:

"Her dead father left her 10,000 records. Sharing them online helped her grieve – and get to know him.

Jula began sampling albums from her father’s extensive collection on Instagram. Her ‘listening parties’ connected her with people who shared his passion."

Well, feel good or maybe cry-and-smile-at-the-same-time good.

"...close to 10,000 records [including] everything from opera to 60s psych to prog rock to new wave. At first, it felt overwhelming to look at shelves and shelves of records. But this summer [she] decided to 'sample' a few records. A friend suggested she post the process on Instagram. 'She said, "There are people who are your father’s age who would recognize the records, and maybe you could find a small community of people who you can connect to, to keep that alive,"'Jula said...

When Richard died a few years ago, those records became the only physical thing Jula had left of her father. 'It’s like the last thing we have left of him, so even though they take up a lot of space, I knew I didn’t want to get rid of any.'..

Turning such a private act of getting to know her late father into a social media project helps Jula process her feelings. She calls her account 'a listening party' and likes to read comments on her posts. 'These people really keep my father alive for me, because he was always talking about music,' she said. 'I’ll mention an album, and someone will give me a fact about it, or a little tidbit, and that makes me feel like my father’s in the room, because that’s what he would be doing.'”

Full story

[lovekia]

Weekly Competition Theme: Magazine Photoshoot

[usedpidemo]

Codependency (Ive Yujin)

On one side, there’s a mansion worthy portrait of you on the wall. On the other, wards and recognitions from numerous governing bodies with your name plastered in remembrance. The public knows more about the brand than the people behind it; that’s how business works. Unless your name happens to be Musk, Bezos, or Zuckerberg.

You’re nowhere near their level of wealth and influence—far from it—yet this entire building’s future rests on your shoulders. It’s not as easy as it looks.

You’ve always credited your guardian angel for keeping you from harm your entire life. It sounds religious, but from personal experience, it’s real. 

She’s guiding you from the secluded corner of your office.

—————

“And that’s how we’ll proceed with operations moving forward,” you say to the executives in the room���except they're not physically there. Their faces are projected on screen, joining from different countries, with some even joining from home. To be quite frank, you understand very little about your own presentation, and had your acting not been Oscar-worthy, there’s more that would appear absurd than believable. “Do we have any questions?”

For the most part, the top brass appear to be in unanimous agreement with everything that has been laid out. Not a single question, complaint, or rebuttal from anyone.

“Well done, officer. You seem to have a complete grasp and understanding of the situation,” says one of the chiefs, his ripe old age showing through his slow, strained tone. 

Another suit, much closer to your age—albeit barely (he’s in his mid-forties)—adds, “We expect an immediate turnaround, otherwise we may have to cut even more of our divisions off. Should this plan fail, we anticipate closure of even more of our departments, including yours.”

It’s not the most concerning thing you’ve heard this week, but it’s definitely up there–at least top three.

Nevertheless, you remain firm and bow to your superiors as you end the meeting. “Thank you sirs. We will do our best.”

As soon as the video call ends, you let out this deep sigh of relief that’s been repressed the entire time. Thank goodness you have an entire building floor and private office to yourself. 

“Well fuck me,” you mutter, seemingly speaking to the void, taking all the deep breaths you need, wiping the sweat across your head with some tissue. “Tell me I followed through on everything, right?”

“Yeah. Apart from mixing a few things, you mostly got it.” Yujin’s voice emerges from the far end of the room, covered in darkness, away from anyone’s view. The papers on your desk aren’t actually documents or paperwork. In reality, they’re pages of a manuscript with a few instructional, handwritten notes attached. It’s not even your own writing; they’re curated by none other than Yujin herself. “I’d say I wouldn’t have noticed, even if they were a little too obvious at times.”

“These conferences are fucking tiresome. Nauseating even,” you reply. Yujin opens up the blinds, and you stagger away from the immediate sunlight piercing through the room. Simply put, you just want to throw up after yapping all that incomprehensible jargon. “You know what—why don’t we switch places next time? I think you’d be better at this than me, like you already are with everything.”

An unusual comment for the director to make to his assistant, but it’s true. Yujin is so good in every department that it’s borderline farcical. She’s incredibly reliable to the point where you’ve basically deferred nearly every task to her, leaving you with the most boring parts of your job, which mostly comprises of company meetings and private calls. She’s a relatively new hire, having worked in your department for a little over a year, yet her rise up the ranks has been nothing short of absurd. 

“Please, let’s not get carried away,” she softly laughs, flashing a lovely smile you never grow tired of seeing—and you see her as soon as you walk into the building till you clock out.  “I’m fine with the research and paperwork. Regardless of what you want to believe, I think you sold it well.”

You slump back in your chair, somewhat bothered at just how unbothered Yujin is. How she’s able to take all your responsibilities that you should be doing, and without protest. One look at her features tells you all you need to know: that she’s happy to work for you. She could easily be in your position right now, putting you through this exact hell. She could be on that screen making those very threats on your job, in fact. Instead, she prefers to be your subordinate.

If that wasn’t enough of an example, she’s gathering the papers on your desk, putting them back together, good as new. Then she brings you a cup of water from the dispenser. She’s enumerating a list of other, just as unintelligible things that may or may not be important to your discussion earlier. Meanwhile, you’ve been sitting in that chair, your thoughts wandering aimlessly, thinking about anything that isn’t work. It’s almost noon, yet your mind just wants to check out for the rest of the day.

“Um—sir? You okay?” Yujin waves a hand right in your face, snapping you from your tired daze.

You tilt up to her gaze, eyes weary. “Yeah. I’m just—tired.”

“Do you want me to leave? I’ll go and sort out the upper management on your behalf if you’re not feeling well.”

“Don’t.” You rise from your seat, telling her, “I’ll take care of it. Go and have lunch,” as you point at your wristwatch, both hands closely pointed at the top.

“You sure? You should go have lunch too,” she replies, showing an alarming amount of concern that it’s almost comical. “Don’t worry about me.”

Shaking your head, you respond, flashing a light grin to reassure her, “I can talk to them at any time. T your break. I’ll call you when I need anything.” 

—————

Truth be told, you didn’t want to see her for the rest of the day, let alone seek her help. 

Yujin is only one call away. After all, she’s your assistant, down to working right outside your office. She’s working on whatever nonsense you’ve assigned her, showing no signs of slowing down. Meanwhile, you can barely call today productive; you’ve only completed two pages of a draft for next week’s presentation. In the time spent between slowly chopping away and stalking her from behind the door, her pretty profile a sight for sore eyes, she’s probably completed this week’s assignments and halfway through the next. She’s that efficient.

Hours pass, until the day finally ends at five. At exactly the top of the hour, she lets herself into your office, her pleasant attitude still in full bloom. “Already completed all the tasks for today. How about you?”

Yujin is not even trying to gloat—not in the slightest—yet it sounds like a punch to the gut. You can only slam your chin flat on the desk in despair, shooting a tired glare at her. She tries to muffle her chuckle, trying to keep herself professional, not realizing you’ve already seen through her facade.

“You want me to help you out? I don’t mind working an hour longer if you need it.” She’s peeking her head over the laptop display, examining for the proof of concept—or lack thereof. “Didn’t I tell you to leave this five plan strategy to me?”

This amount of confidence should leave you battered and deflated. And yet, there’s a sense of relief knowing Yujin will get the job done no matter what you ask of her. It’s enough to turn that frown into a faint, encouraging grin. 

“I guess so,” you tell her, putting down the screen. Getting up from your chair, you close the window blinds and block out the setting sun. “Maybe I’m just tired of deferring all my responsibilities to you, that’s all.”

Her smile looks innocent, demure even, it doesn’t make sense as to how irrevocably kind she is to you. As far as you know, your employees consider you as shrewd and as scummy as your superiors. Forget that you’ve been working here longer; they consider everyone that isn’t their fellow rank a corporate dirtbag who’d step over others the first opportunity they can. It’s a vicious cycle. To have someone like Yujin feels like an anomaly. 

“Don’t worry about it, that’s why I’m getting paid right?” she answers back, pressing her palms on your desk. “Just do what you can and I’ll handle the rest.”

You’re pouring an espresso into a cup, before offering the drink to her. “We should talk, Yujin,” you say, filling up a separate glass with your own. Your fourth shot. “You got a minute or two?” 

“Sure. I always have time for you.” Yujin sits up, taking the drink into her hand, crossing her leg. It’s nearly impossible to look anywhere else but on them. As if she couldn’t be any more perfect, in mind, character, and body. “Is there anything bothering you lately?”

Sitting across her with only a desk separating you, the words never come out. You’ve got plenty on your mind: the messy state of your department, the unreasonable expectations and demands of your superiors, the possibility of losing your job—and Yujin. She’s sitting right there, ready to hear you out, but you never find the conviction to confess your worries. The next few minutes are awkward silence, only broken by the occasional stir of teaspoon and the sip of coffee. It isn’t that she renders you speechless, though one would fairly assume as to why: she’s pleasant to look at, among other things. It also helps that her outfits have been getting skimpier over the past few weeks. Unsurprisingly, you let the flagrant violation of the dress code go unpunished. 

“Sir? Is everything okay?” Yujin leans her head forward, noticing that you’re lost in thought. She places her cup on the desk. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyebrows instinctively rise. That glimmer of hope you showed moments ago disappears. What’s left is despair. “I think we might be fucked, Yujin.”

“Fucked? What do you mean by that?”

“We’re fucked. Like, we could be out of a job fucked.”

“Explain?” Yujin cannot comprehend it—then again, anyone else would react the same way. “Didn’t we give the board a five step plan earlier today?”

“We did,” you reply, finally mustering the strength to meet her eyes. “But here’s the thing: we don’t have the financial or human capacity to execute the plan. At least, in the time they demanded.”

“And? We did the research and even the hypotheticals!” You’ve never heard Yujin raise her voice even once—until now. “What could go wrong exactly?”

“They think we can course correct years worth of bad financial decisions in just a few months. That’s the problem. Either way, we’re fucked.”

“I don’t believe you.” Yujin forcefully rises from her seat, threatening to flip the desk. If she only had the strength. “After all the time I spent working on it, you want to wave the white flag and give up?”

You don’t really know how to answer her. At least, in a way that’s remotely graceful and easy to understand. 

“I’m sorry, Yuj, but no matter what—”

“I’m trying—so fucking hard—” she huffs, her fist clenching, trembling violently— “to carry your fucking ass so that we could keep our livelihoods. And not just me or you, but also the hundreds working for us! I know you fucking hate their guts because they’ve said nothing but terrible things about you, and even if none of that is true because I know you better than anyone else in this fucking building, at least have the decency to salvage whatever’s left instead of being a fucking coward for once!”

Yujin doesn’t notice that she’s been outright screaming into your face. You’re taken aback, utterly in disbelief at what she just aired out. If she wasn’t kindness incarnate, she likely would have pulled you by the shirt and choked you till you passed out. She blinks. The realization hits, and she begins to crumble.

“Sorry” is the only thing she can say, in quiet mumbles, slowly falling back onto her chair. Her hands cover the lower half of her face, completely mortified. Her eyes are on the verge of tears before giving out and crying waterfalls. Eventually, she lowers her head out of shame.

Even before entrusting her with such a demanding assignment, you knew there was nothing other than divine intervention that could save your job. This wasn’t what you signed up for, and neither did Yujin. For the most part, this was only to save face. Your face. The board of directors didn’t have any objections after all, and were mostly agreeable with every step of the plan. Either that or their old age is catching up and they hardly understood a thing at all. Like you.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t excuse you from criticism. This is on you, and you should be held accountable. Instead of rightfully performing your part, you weighed down someone else with your burden. It’s the wake-up call you need.

Yujin shouldn’t feel guilty saying all of this and having to apologize. She’s crying on your desk, still softly apologizing between tears, “Sorry—I’m really sorry—” and your heart fucking drops. 

It’s a terrible feeling.

“Yuj, please stop crying,” you mutter, caressing her shoulder. Seeing her look so defeated brings you more distress than anything, including the thought of losing your job. “I should be the one apologizing for putting you through all this. You’re right—”

“I’m so sorry.” She’s still asking for forgiveness, your words mostly going unnoticed. “I just wanted to—”

“You’re right, Yuj. I’m a coward. I’ll admit, I honestly wanted to resign the moment they brought this up. If they couldn’t do a damn thing about it, how else would I know? Seeing you figure out a way made me realize just how much I depend on you to save my ass. I should be the one saying sorry, not you Goddammit, Yuj. What would I do without you, honestly—”

She tilts her head up, her sniffling and sobbing unceasing, resting her head on your chest. “I’m sorry. What I said is still out of pocket and I wasn’t in the position to say—”

“Shush, Yuj. Stop apologizing for being right,” you reply, brushing her hair. “Look. We’ll go forward with your plan. You can write up the whole thing and I’ll present it your way. I won’t muck up in front of the directors, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna quit.”

“Really?” She lifts up her eyes, doe-looking and glimmering.

“Yeah. Might as well go down with a sinking ship, so please stop crying,” you say, smiling. “You made me feel like shit and I don’t like it.”

Yujin laughs. Heartily.

—————

Even though that should havd been enough to appease Yujin, in your eyes, it wasn’t. You had to make it up to her in other ways.

“This place serves really good food,” you tell Yujin, digesting the sights and scents of the relatively small eatery. Meanwhile, Yujin sits beside you, eating to heart’s content without a care. “I can see why you love it.”

“How’d you know this was my favorite place to drop by after work?” she asks, chomping down on the last stick of her barbecue. 

“I have my sources,” you tell her, playfully grinning, unwilling to admit that you’ve been watching from behind your car’s windows for some time now. 

“Don’t tell me it’s Wonyoung, boss.” Yujin pouts, flustered and embarrassed. “I swear to God, I can’t trust anything with—”

“It isn’t her, don’t worry,” you chuckle, amused at her red-faced look. 

“I really appreciate the offer,” she remarks, finishing the remaining half of her drink. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do for my hardworking assistant,” you reply, gesturing to the lone cook for the bill. The charges go up to the hundreds, with most orders belonging to her. While she’s chomping away at the end of a large meal, you secretly foot it on her behalf. How she maintains her figure while consuming this much food, you’ll never know. And when she calls for the tab, she’s told that it has already been paid in full.

“Now you’re just being extra,” she says, facing you, looking insulted by the kind gesture, but in a playful way. Appreciative regardless. “I already told you we’ll pay for what we each ordered.”

Looking at the stack of empty plates on her side—when compared to yours—some part of you believes that to be false. You don’t even have to say anything for her to realize she’s not one to fulfill her own word either.

“Okay—I would have paid 25 percent.”

You can’t place any blame on her. She laughs—at herself. She’s so charming, a pleasure to watch, that you would let her slide, had this not been your intention right from the start.

“Stop.” 

You end up laughing with her too.

—————

“Seriously. Don’t lie, you promise you won’t just suddenly quit on us?” Yujin asks, staring at you as you walk toward your parked vehicles outside the eatery. “This feels like a way to soften the blow.”

Both of you stop right in front of your cars. “Not at all,” you tell her, staring directly into her eyes. “What else do I have to do to prove that I’m not quitting?”

“I don’t know, sir. I mean—you, suddenly asking me to eat out—” she rolls her eyes away, skeptical— “You’ve never done that.”

The cold nighttime air sweeps all over you. Chilly, you rub your arms together, partially regretting the decision to cover Yujin with your coat. She’s relatively unfazed, warm in your garment; even more surprisingly, it fits her perfectly like a glove. 

“I wouldn’t leave if it means I lose you, Yujin.”

It’s not the words you wanted to say. Every part of that sentence leaves your lips effortlessly. A little too effortless.It’s an unconfessed confession, waiting for the right moment to be spoken. Sure, she may interpret it as merely you being codependent on her when it comes to work, but there’s no way there isn’t some kind of other, deeper meaning behind them.

“Lose me? What does that mean?” She asks, even more curious. Of course, Yujin isn’t the brain of your operations for nothing. It isn’t surprising when she figures you out. “You like me, don’t you?”

Just like that, the tables have turned. You can’t deny your feelings any longer.

You gently nod. Perhaps the killing blow could be softer if you find closure, right here, right now.

She leans forward, both of you unable to do anything other than to stare into each other’s deep, longing eyes. The tension between you is the only source of heat in the midst of a cold, lonely night. 

By all accounts, the relationship between you and Yujin is strictly professional. Apart from a few trips abroad, you keep all conversations business related. Mind-numbing, confusing agency jargon. It’s a helpful practice in keeping your space; no matter how attractive she may look and saccharine she may sound, no amount of pleasantry can make company discussion remotely close to entertaining. You’d rather play with the blinds in your office. She’s doing her part too: clock in at nine, clock out at five on the dot. It’s a healthy routine. After hour talks between you are rare. It’s common practice to maintain a firm working relationship. It’s also just common sense. Good organization begins at the top.

Moments like these are strong reminders on why you avoid crossing that line. Yet you don’t stop—not when she’s the one making the first move. 

You kiss. Your lips stay a little longer than they should. The taste lingers. 

You find solace in each other's warmth, in a comforting embrace. She rests her head on your chest, her hands gripping into your shirt tightly. Deep down, you both recognize you’re on borrowed time. Whether through your promotion or your release, you won’t be together for much long. Countless hours spent together, so many occasions—the opportunities are being handed to you on a silver platter, only for you not to take the chance.

Not anymore. You won’t make the same mistake again.

—————

Driving her home was easy; finding your way into your room was half the battle. 

“It took us this long to share a room, huh?” Yujin huffs against your face, finding and capturing your lips even in an erratic, volatile environment. She’s pushing you against the wall, her palms having an iron grip on your cheeks, pulling you close and wildly kissing you. The entire trip up to your apartment floor has been nothing but shaky kisses and clothes slowly scattering from the elevator to your front door.

“We should have done this a long time ago,” you manage to mutter, holding her face away for a brief respite to answer, only to be forced back in once again. Any semblance of professionalism between you is abandoned for fiery, passionate lovemaking, future relationships be damned. 

The most surprising thing is how it isn’t as messy as it may look. See, despite the bite marks on your skin, the wrinkles in your clothes, and the rather loud, unceremonious manner you enter your apartment, you’re still in the process slowly unraveling. There’s a conscious effort to make sure neither side comes out completely in ruins. A silent agreement between you. 

Her hands lay claim to your shirt, threatening to tear you apart if you don’t do the same to her. She lifts her head when you quickly peel through her long skirt; you dive in and make it yours. The crack in her voice as she mewls tickles your ears just right. Slowly spreading her legs wide, pulling the panties down her well defined thighs. In response, she tugs at your shirt, popping a few buttons loose. It isn’t as easy as it looks to have Yujin pinned against the wall; she’s actively fighting, trying to seize back control. If she can’t have her way with you, at the very least she can rein you in. Only now do you realize the danger your little escapede.

With her slender legs wrapped around your waist, you can only do so much. Yujin can’t stop kissing you, leading your gaze to anywhere but her pretty, lust-ridden expressions. She wants this more than you do. Against your desires, you end up in the kitchen, propping her on the bar counter as lipstick covers your entire face. The brief respite when she catches her breath gives you ample time to unbutton the rest of your shirt before tossing it aside—something you don’t give her the decency to finish.

While she’s still staggering, lost in her own thoughts, you take her by the shoulder and leave a fresh mark on her neck. A distraction. More importantly, your fingers feel their way around the back of her dress, find the touch of metal—and yank. The zipper follows, the lengthy garment gradually coming undone, until Yujin pushes the rest of it off her shoulders and to the floor. Your eyes gleam like starlight as her bra reveals itself, taking countless mental snapshots at that moment. 

Not even her attempts to redirect your attention can pull you away. 

You push her down on the marble surface. The bar is big enough to fit you both. Joining her atop the counter, your gaze wanders down her divine figure—and you don’t know where to start. Everything about Yujin is designed to be as perfect as humanly possible. No one should be flawless.

“How can you be any more perfect, Yuj,” you mutter, eyes roaming everywhere, soaking in the immaculate sight before you. “How did I not want you any sooner?”

Yujin’s hand traces down your arm. “You could have just asked. My previous employers did. It was a regular part of the job for me.”

You’re shaking your head. Imagine that—an employer taking advantage of their employee offering themselves without any restraint. You would never—except you already did. Your previous assistant can vouch.

“Don’t feel sorry. I want this just as much as you do,” she adds, pulling you towards her face for a soft kiss, clearing all doubt. “Besides, you’re not that much different from any of them. Why stop now?”

“Not that different? Were they just as codependent on you as I am?”

Nodding in agreement, she laughs. 

“God fucking dammit.” 

You sigh. Yujin continues laughing. What a momentum killer. And the worst part is, it’s self-inflicted and completely avoidable. You should have just kept going, kept her speechless.

Still, it’s not the end of the world. You’re on top of Yujin; she has no intention of leaving you anytime soon. Most importantly, she’s unhooking her bra while you’re caught up in your feelings. “But—there’s one difference: I actually love working for you. I wouldn’t mind letting you use me.”

“You love working for me? Why?”

She’s biting her lip, grabbing you by the back of your head. “You’ll find out yourself. You know what to do.”

“What? How?” The word comes out panicked, desperate.

Yujin shakes her head, the smirk on her lips twisting, wicked. “You know how.”

At first, finding what she means proves to be a struggle. After all, Yujin’s not the mysterious type. She always tells you everything straight, condenses complex conversations into digestible servings for easy consumption. It’s not in her character. Yet, one look at what’s in front of you—her naked frame casually lying beneath yours, her hands running all over your bare self—the realization hits you like lightning, and you’re mentally punching yourself for being so dangerously oblivious.

You kiss her on the lips again. You can’t get enough. You’d happily stay in this position all night long. Except that isn’t what she wants. She wants you to go further. 

So you sink further and further down. The closer you get, the more she opens up. A sloppy trail follows your lips, from her chin, to her collarbones, to her chest and navel, and everything else in between. She’s soft to the touch, so flexible and malleable—every part of her, you make yours. Then you get to her core, her inner thighs spreading, and watch as it unravels before you, quivering, soaked, needy. You look into each other’s eyes, hers anticipating. There’s a craze behind your irises, as if some repressed need is crawling back to the surface. It’s slowly driving you wild.

Your name drips on the edge of Yujin’s mouth—a sign of impatience—before suddenly cracking at the point of impact. She rolls her head back, her voice reduced to an airy sigh as your tongue licks up her slit, her entrance, in a slow upward motion. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to devolve into a hungry, primal mess. Her thighs close in and clamp you down, suffocating you while you become more familiar with the sensation and taste of her dripping cunt. 

If only you could hear the full extent of her moans, turning a pitch higher with each passing swipe and slurp. You’re humming into her core, satiated and fulfilled with the taste of her slick in your mouth. Yujin’s hands stretch out for help, for stability as pleasure gradually overwhelms her. Propped underneath her thighs, your hands dig under to reach places that your tongue can’t. She grows erratics, restless, moved by your presence inside her.

“Fuck!” The profanity escapes her lips instinctually, like it’s always been a part of her. She’s writhing, jaw slack, her back arched over the bar, her hands now grasping on your hair, then on the edges again. On your side, the pressure her thighs bring leave you suffocating. It’s too much. You should be begging for your life; instead, you’re enjoying every minute, slowing your pace every now and then to savor the feeling. 

Despite her state, she’s caught you by the wrists. They do little in stopping your tongue from consuming every inch of her, and you end up pushing her forward. You grip her by her thighs and spread her wide. She can’t resist. Fresh air has never felt more soothing to the lungs. By the way you have her legs dangled up in the air, you’re threatening to pull a nerve. She’s screaming, crying out in desperation, 

Still, it doesn’t change the outcome. Yujin finally loses herself completely and comes undone. She cums—blasts jets of slick all over your face and mouth. The counter pools with the aftermath of her orgasm, and you lick it all up, sanitation be damned. 

When you finally emerge from the depths of her tight, drenched cunt, she remains a mess, stamina completely drained, body still trembling from her massive climax. You’d think after that, she would be incapacitated for the night, until—

“Wait.” Yujin deeply exhales, pulls you by the wrist. You aren’t exactly going anywhere. As if struck by lightning, she suddenly rises up. A shit-eating grin forms on her lips, as if the damage wasn’t enough to take her down. There’s a familiar look in her eyes—the gaze of a woman who needs more.

She flicks a sample of her slick from the spot on the counter and laps it up, still eying you with unceasing lust. You remember her words, the question to ponder: “You’re gonna tell me now?”

Yujin blankly stares. The question lingers for a little while. “Tell you what?” she replies, the tone convincing enough to feign innocence.

“Why you love working for me.”

She smiles again, a teasing look. “You’re halfway there.”

“What does that mean?” As you try not to overreact, your assistant turned one night stand tries to stifle her laughter. It almost goes unnoticed, until— “Yuj, you’re really getting on my nerves with all this vaguery bullshit going on.”

“It’s part of the fun, is it not? Do you want me to give it straight?”

“Yes! Like always!” 

Yujin leans close. One hand reaches for your pants, the other still attached to your wrist. She appears like she’s going for yet another kiss, when she stops right next to your ear and whispers, “I want you to fuck me. Use me,” before drawing herself away.

On the surface, the stare you give her looks cold. Deep in your mind, the words resonate and ring louder and louder. Four words. “Fuck me—” “Use me—” The arousal bubbles up, manifests on your cheeks. The next few minutes can go so many ways, more than you can imagine. In your eyes, she’s still your assistant, a friendly, dependable worker whom you consider a close acquaintance more than anything. 

The thing is: you’ve already gone far past the point of no return. Her gaze is enticing—demanding—you to keep going. 

There’s no stopping now.

Yujin casually follows you to your bedroom, hand in tow. The rest of your clothes lie discarded in the kitchen—boxers, pants, and all. Gone are the nerves and hesitations; the attitude you have towards her is different. “Lay down,” you command her, voice steely, and she obliges, the bed flopping with the slight crash of her lithe figure. You won’t ever grow tired of staring at her naked body, regardless of it’s position. 

She lays flat on her tummy, observing you rummage through your large closet of suits, pulling a red tie from one of the drawers. “Not the first time I’ve had something wrapped around my neck,” she remarks, raising a curious eyebrow, crooked smile unyielding. “Stylish, just like you.”

“I wasn’t asking for your input.” You’re never this stern towards Yujin. You toss the necktie on the mattress before joining her atop the bed. “Turn around.”

Like the good girl she is, she obliges. That’s Yujin for you; she’ll always follow everything you tell her, no questions asked. On her fours, her plump ass glides face up, in complete view. Another temptation, another part of her to claim as yours. Regardless, you’re in no hurry; you’ve got the rest of the night.

With your erect cock in hand, you line the tip against her sopping cunt. She winces, moans at the contact. “Oh, fuck—” she whines, lifting her head up, her nails pressed into the sheets. As inviting as the call of her tight, wet pussy is to you, you make an organized effort to resist the immediate lull to fuck her hard.

Even holding her figure with your other hand proves to be a nightmare. Her body enraptures you in hypnotic ways. The arch of her back, the curve of her ass, the hourglass frame—it’s a feast for the eyes. You could take your sweet time and worship every little part of Yujin and she wouldn’t mind, but in the midst of your blinding daze, she’s calling to you. Again.

“Are you just gonna admire me or are you gonna shove that big cock in me?” She faces you with a mischievous grin. “I don’t mind both.”

Suddenly, you remember your position in this relationship. You grab her by the throat, face her away again. “Quiet. I don’t want to hear any more from you unless you’re taking this fucking cock.”

Showing a little resistance, she tries daring you, “Then f—fuck!”

Her jaw goes wide, frozen in place, her voice abruptly cutting as you undercut her with your cock. You’re no better; pleasure sets your muscles ablaze as you thrust into her inviting cunt. It shows in the deep groan spilling from your mouth. Little by little, you plunge ever so deep until you feel yourself buried to the hilt. That’s when you finally let out this breath of relief—but not for long. 

Her pussy clenches hard. Her heat proves to be suffocating beyond measure. If you don’t act quickly, she could end you in seconds. 

“O-oh God—”

You slowly, painstakingly pull back before throttling your hips into her. Taking these short breaths, every little move you make is precarious. It’s not that she’s resisting you—far from it—but it’s you resisting the urge to cum so soon. Your mind tries to think of anything other than what’s right in front, but even that proves to be nearly impossible. The ripple of her ass, the slight wobble of her breasts, the twisting grip of your hand on her otherwise soft skin—

“So fucking tight. Holy fuck, Yuj—” You manage to mutter before you’re reduced to groans again. 

All you can focus on is keeping yourself together while you’re slowly crumbing away. You find a rhythm in the midst of the madness, pounding away at your assistant’s cunt, your senses overrun by pleasure and the satisfying sound of your skin slapping skin. Elsewhere, your hands can’t seem to find solace in just one area. They’re everywhere; from her hair, to her throat, to the arch of her ass, to her hips, the imprints stay new, eventually creating a patterned sequence that immediately breaks.

You’re fucking these strained cries and prasies out of Yujin’s sweet lips, and it’s quite the mouthful. ’More,’ ‘harder,’ ‘so good—’ until it reaches the point where her voice is so worn from your chokehold that she can only speak in high pitched mewls. Another cycle you wish would never end. 

Slowing your pace, you reach for the necktie, gently tying it around her neck while preventing your rhythm from disrupting. “You’re such a fucking perfect woman, you know that?” you mutter in her ear, kissing the helix and indulging in the scent of her perfume mixed with sex and sweat. “Perfect listener, perfect assistant, perfect body—”

Pulling yourself away from her, you yank the tie along—your makeshift leash. Her body tilts all the way up, a sharp screech suddenly filling the bedroom. You’re not sure if its from the pull or just her moan. Either way, you have her in your grasp. Brushing her hair aside, you mumble, “Actually, I don’t know how to use a tie like that. I just wanted to remember what it’s like to be the boss. Your boss.”

It should have sounded flat, like all your other attempts at being convincing. And yet, she leans her ear backward, trying to recapture your lips. Teasing a little, your lips make what’s considered the most minimal of contacts, before you push her to her fours. You don’t intend to pull on the tie again, but you’re still holding on to it like your most prized possession—and it may as well be Yujin. 

“Of course,” are her first words uttered in a while that aren’t some combination of profanity and praise. 

Grabbing her by the midsection, the rhythm of your thrusts quickens. You feel it. The imminent collapse. And it’s not just the bed quaking and creaking from your sex. She’s pleading now; ’So close,’ she tells you, begs you to let her cum all over your cock. In any other scenario, you’d acquiesce. Here, with all the authority, you’re going to assert your power a little.

“Say it. Say it and I’ll let you cum all over me,” you demand, your hand climbing up to her chest, grabbing at her breast, folding her up slightly that her grip on the sheets transfers to the headboard. “I wanted you so fucking bad for so long.”

“Anything for you. Just let me cum!” she cries out, on the verge of falling apart. Dangerously close.

“Tell me I’m yours.”

“I’m yours!”

“You know what I meant. Say it again.”

“I’m yours! I’m yours!”

Hearing her declare that she belongs to you with such conviction almost upends you too. You almost give in, but narrowaly escape thanks to your utter resolve. The smirk on your face is priceless.

“Perfect. Now cum.”

Just like that, her body reacts at the drop of your command, as if it was hardwired into her. Yujin goes numb—fidgeting, cumming all over your cock—as you continue to pound into her cunt. A single word echoes, going quieter with every incantation: ‘Fuck,’ she whines, caught reeling in her orgasm and catching every breath possible. 

Eventually, it comes to a standstill, the only thing left is for you to crash. Lucky for her, you’re not that far off. You’ve let go of the tie, holding onto her shoulders instead. So now it’s her opportunity to turn the tables on you again.

“Fucking give it to me—oh I need it now, oh God—” Yujin begs, barely keeping herself upright in the aftermath of her climax.

And you just crash down on her, slamming her deep into the sheets, turning her around as you fuck callously, clamping her neck, her moans ringing into your ear. She has a leg wrapped arond yours—as if you had any intention of pulling out. You’ve spent enough time away from her pretty face; now you want to watch her take all your load deep in her pussy.

Yujin’s mouth melds in the shape of a moan as the pressure finally overwhelms you. Burying yourself deep in her, you’re still pumping, fucking your cock as you blast thick load after thick load in her warm, creamy cunt. The sensation leaves you breathless, hanging onto her for dear life as you wait for the moment to pass. Though it may seem like a couple of minutes, the feeling lingers far longer than you can imagine. She milks you of all your worth, drawing every last drop from your throbbing cock until your body can’t move any longer.

Eventually, your bodies wind up together, limbs tangled, wrapped around each other in a warm embrace. The comfort you both needed after a long day.

—————

You gaze down at a tired Yujin. Hours ago, you were the one holding onto her; now she’s the clingy one, wrapping an arm over you. “I really need to know, Yuj.” 

She mumbles into your chest. “What is it?” You feel her soft lips leave lipstick marks on your skin.

You’re brushing away loose, dark strands of her hair to get a better look of her pristine, shiny face. “Why do you love working for me?”

After the passionate night you just had, you still have the gall to ask such a frivolous question. The answer should be obvious by now.

She looks up, smiling—a pleasant, friendly gleam, one you immediately recognize as soon as you walk through those office doors. “Because you’re the first boss I’ve ever worked for that isn’t a total asshole. Also, you’re good at everything.”

You raise an eyebrow and frown. “That’s not—”

“You know what I meant, boss.” The smiling turns into teasing. You realize, then you laugh.

You should be basking in the afterglow of sex, but daylight peeking through your curtain says otherwise. You’re so tired, you can’t move a muscle, let alone grab the phone from the living room to tell the time. All you know is that you should be at work by now, and so should Yujin.

The ring from your phone can be heard loud and clear, even a room and clothing pocket away. As you try to lift your head, Yujin meets you halfway, kissing you before laying you back down.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll write up your leave of absence. Besides, I could use some time off too,” she says, inching her face close to yours.

The notion frightens you. Yujin, your most reliable assistant, never missing a day that isn’t considered a holiday, not by your side when you need her. 

And you need her now more than ever.

“Time off? When?”

“From now. Until you say we’re done.”

—————

(A/N: :bsadcorner:)

(Missing IVE's first proper world tour will always be one of my K-pop low points, even if I already watched and even shared an interaction with them. Goddammit, I can already expect the prices and perks for their next tour will be even more expensive than it already is. Sigh. Anyway, I hope they get their well deserved time off. Thank you for reading!)

[sanatomis]

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇.

the collection of megumi’s childhood memories. gathered and cherished by none other than gojo satoru and his darling wife.

content. slice of life, canon divergence, female!reader, established relationship with satoru, domestic fluff, some angst here and there (but always with a happy ending).

notes. sign up for the taglist here ! note that updates will be slow. i am a full-time uni student with a part-time job. please, remember that—thank you !

ELEMENTARY ESCAPADES [6 - 12] !

࣪ᥫ᭡ — midnight solace. it’s 3am, and six year old megumi fushiguro just woke up from a nightmare. the thing he wants to do most? seek comfort in your arms.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — a flash of remembrance. a child is bound to feel neglected when they discover no one bothered to show up for their science fair, especially when all their peers have someone to dote on them. it seems fushiguro megumi is no exception.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — DIY-dad. it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — how to comfort 101.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — a whispered promise.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — chicken noodle soup.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — when in distress.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — the best of friends.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — a haunted estate.

MIDDLE SCHOOL MAYHAM [12–15] !

࣪ᥫ᭡ — oh, the birdies.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — to be loved. . .

࣪ᥫ᭡ — to fret, to fuss, to soothe.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — down on one knee.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — infinite stupidity.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — a new life, how frightening.

HIGH SCHOOL HIJINKS [15–18] !

࣪ᥫ᭡ — . . .is to be remembered.

࣪ᥫ᭡ — so, this is love?

࣪ᥫ᭡ — i thought you were japanese.

ADOLESCENT ANTICS [18 & UP] !

࣪ᥫ᭡ — a sense of duty.

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works. reblogs, however, are appreciated <3

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟑

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, language, established relationship, everyone is liar, reader is manipulated, suspense

Word Count: 5206

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊

He would make a great son if he didn't mean to be a great father.

That's what he thought when Homelander entered the locked room; his father was locked up. Leaning through the glass, he whispered, "All this time."

In other words, his father did not die. He should have known since, aside from Homelander, his father, Soldier Boy, was the most powerful Supe in the whole world. It seemed impossible for anyone to kill him, and no one could. There were some differences between Homelander and his father, but they differed from the other supes.

Homelander's eyes softened as he peered at his father, who lay peacefully unconscious in the box from the gas he had endured. They should rule the world together as father and son.

And Ryan.

Homelander inhaled deeply as he considered his son. It was undoubtedly another problem. Butcher was the reason behind it all. He was a fucking son-stealing piece of trash. When he had the chance, he should have slaughtered Butcher. There were a lot of opportunities lost. Now that he was most likely the one who killed Vicky, Homelander felt compelled to act because things were undoubtedly getting out of control. 

Homelander opened the box without thinking, and the guardian stared at him in horror. 

Ben quickly moved his arms to remove the handcuffs that were tying him to the bed after getting rid of the gas that was making him sleep like a fucking rat. He didn't waste any time opening his eyes and getting to his feet. This time, he knew he was somewhere else. God only knows how much time has passed since then. 

Ben didn't care that the guardian ran out of the room. At last, he was free once more. 

“Where the fuck am I?” Seeing Homelander in front of him, Ben asked. 

“I-” Homelander tried to speak, but he was surprised that his father had not attacked him right away. He was ready for another fight, in fact. “Dad, I came here to save you. I had no idea you were still alive,” Homelander muttered, yearning for some praise from him. 

Ben's eyes instantly opened as he thought about all that had transpired, and he blinked again. “Where the fuck is Butcher?” he asked, his mind instantly racing with images of you. Ben's final memory of you was of you hitting your head really hard because of Butcher. But before he blew up, he knew your heartbeats were still strong. 

Homelander said, “I don't know. We are searching for him everywhere, but it seems the CIA is working hard, doing their best to hide him and his fucking team.”

Ben remained silent, considering everything and casting a suspicious glance at Homelander. 

“Why the hell have you saved me now?” Ben asked, closely observing Homelander. After all, Ben attempted to murder Homelander, his biological son, as well as his grandchild. If Butcher only didn't interrupt him, he would do it. 

“Of course it's because you're my biological father,” Homelander stated, his gaze softening. He needed Soldier Boy to tell him he was proud of him, even though he hated to admit it. Homelander accomplished many things, but his constant yearning for his family was something else. “It's obvious we couldn't make a good start.”

After helping his father retrieve his suit, Homelander led the way to Vought Tower. Ben remained silent the entire time, although he was suspicious about Homelander. His heart ached as he remembered his times with you as he gazed out the window at the entire city. This time, he would kill Homelander there with his one and only mistake. Taking control of the entire tower wouldn't be difficult. 

Homelander became worried when he noticed his father was silent and deep in thought, so he continued, “We—I'll kill every one of them soon.”

Ben snapped, “No,” and turned to face him. “There is one of them inside the team you should never lay a hand on.”

Confused, Homelander asked, “Who?”

When Ben said your name to him, Homelander simply nodded. He had seen you no more than twice. Even so, you weren't that significant. 

“But why?” 

“Because,” Ben answered in a raised voice. “I have to locate her right away, together with Butcher and the other members of the team. I'm going to kill that son of a bitch, for real this time, by myself.”

“Okay,” Homelander muttered, glad that Soldier Boy had already determined. He didn't even have to make an effort. “But I need something as well.” 

“What the fuck is it?” Ben asked in a severe tone. He was sick and tired of being begged for assistance only to have it turned against him. 

“I and the vice president cleaned your name, so the public will not be hating on you anymore, and all we need is your support and using your power to convince people that our country is safe from now on.”

“And why the fuck would I do that?” Ben moved forward and inquired. He has had enough of dealing with business matters. “Why would I even believe that you're all fucking different than Butcher and you will not deceive me?”

Homelander was clearly startled by his father's lack of trust, and his mouth dropped wide. “I'm..your son and I saved you.” Homelander spoke as if it were the most ordinary thing ever.

Ben inhaled deeply, obviously uninterested in the situation at all, but he didn't want the CIA to play games with him any longer, and the arrangement wasn't worse than Butcher's offer. If not, he would be forced to murder a lot of people very soon. 

“Fine, but keep in mind that even if you find her before me, nothing bad will happen to Y/N. If not, the deal is offer,” Ben stated at the end. “I suppose I'll just have to put up with this nasty shit and forget that I was beating my meat into a cup just for them to create another me; a total disappointment.”

Homelander felt the impact of Ben's remarks hit hard, but he decided to ignore them. It was enough of a start, and there were things to do. He would ultimately beat Butcher and the CIA with Soldier Boy's assistance and reclaim his son. With his family by his side, he was going to transform this nation into a paradise, just as it should be. 

“Frenchie,” Butcher angrily called him. “Will you ever fucking get this thing ready?”

With a frustrated sigh, Frenchie, who was working on Kimiko's ripped and infected leg, turned Butcher and pleaded, “I'm working day and night; give me some rest.”

Kimiko, expressing her support for Frenchie, shot Butcher a glare. 

“Well, we all will take a nice break when Homelander breaks this door with his daddy, Soldier Boy, and lasers our hairy asses one by one, won't we?”

You hurriedly added, “I'm sure he cares and takes this issue seriously as much as you do, Butcher,” attempting to support Frenchie, who was already under a lot of pressure. 

With a muttered, “Fucks sake,” Butcher put his head in his hands. 

You asked, “Are you okay?” Clearly, he was the most stressed person in the room. 

With a feeble smile, he said, “Yeah, sure,” and walked across the lab to a chair. 

You noticed that Frenchie and Kimiko were having a heated discussion when you glanced at them. While working, Frenchie was cautioning Kimiko to stay away from the virus. 

You put your hand on Butcher's shoulder after noticing him deep in thought while he smoked. “Are you really okay?” 

He answered, “Of course I am,” but his smile didn't reach his lips. “It's all going to end soon after all, once Frenchie gets this thing ready.”

You stated firmly, “He's talented and, most importantly, determined. With each other, we'll overcome this. You'll see.”

You cautiously inquired, “What exactly happened with Soldier Boy?” after he nodded to you. 

Butcher turned to face you, his expression conveying annoyance. “Why are you asking this?”

“I thought that it would be best to be informed about changes while I was away. You know, just to catch up. I had long since believed he had already died. Really, I can't believe he's still alive. Everything is just too much.” 

Butcher rubbed his eyes, smoked another cigarette, and said, “Alright. He had been held captive in Russia for decades, but the CIA decided to free him in exchange for defeating Homelander. It appeared that we were out of options for the time being. Clearly, the cunt is powerful.”

“And?”

“It came out that Homelander is his son, and after he eventually betrayed us, father and son have come together again. That's the story.”

You asked with disbelief, “Did he change his idea just because Homelander is his son?”

“Who knows?” However, Butcher remained silent, his gaze fixed on Frenchie.

“But, sweetie, some things are certain. He isn't a good man. He deserves to die, no matter what, because he is just as evil as Homelander. He killed innocent people in New York, then in Herogasm. Those were innocent people. Like Homelander and the other members of the Seven. He is a mentally ill, self-centered bad guy.”

You were surprised to see how serious he was, yet you still managed to respond, “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Y/N,” Butcher called you when he noticed you were confused. “Homelander and Soldier Boy must both die, no matter what. You are aware that it's for the best, right?”

You were taken aback by his questioning and sincerity as well, but you managed to mumble, “Of course I'm aware of that. Whenever I'm needed, I'll contribute what I can. I swear to you on that.”

“If you ever come across him, remember to never believe anything he says, okay? All he is is a dangerous cunt.”

Even though you were perplexed and didn't fully get what he was saying, you nevertheless nodded. "Butcher, I promised you. Since we are a team, I support your desire for Homelander to die. We all want that here. You will see that we will overcome this." 

When Butcher realized you were trying your hardest to stand by him, he gave you another weak smile. He was aware that you would try to kill him there and never forgive him once you learned the truth. But he knew that this was a game he had to play. 

Although it was cruel and unjust to you, Butcher really used your memory loss as a tool to his advantage because Homelander and Soldier Boy had to die, and if he needed to use you to accomplish this, he would use you without blinking an eye. After all, in wartime, nothing was fair.

Butcher did all within his power to mislead you: he erased your existence from the moment you met Soldier Boy, ensured that Kimiko and Frenchie would never discuss your abortion, and persuaded the team to speak with you as though it were their first time meeting.

He didn't plan for Soldier Boy to awaken once more, of course. The worst thing that might have happened did really happen. Butcher, though, had to keep his cool and play his game with you all. He was certain that you didn't feel any form of attachment toward him; therefore, it didn't matter if he told you everything that had transpired months prior. 

But it would still be better if Soldier Boy was unable to find you. 

Butcher rolled his eyes, sensing what was about to happen when Annie gave him a look as he watched you move away from him and hang around with Frenchie and Kimiko. Sometimes Annie was such a pain in the ass. 

“Are you even aware of the seriousness of the issue, Butcher?” Annie asked in a sour tone. 

“You're simply exaggerating. She is quite happy in that sense, even if she can't recall a single fucking thing. Everything's fine.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Annie exclaimed, “I fucking can't believe you. He's fucking going to kill all of us when he finds her and discovers your lies about him.”

Butcher remarked, “He won't find her,” annoyance evident in Annie's voice. “What do you believe will happen even if he does, which is not at all important? Will she recall him suddenly? No fucking way.”

“What happens if she does? She is going to hate each and every one of us, but above all, Soldier Boy will murder us. Butcher, he's fucking free. Are you blind?” Annie attempted to keep calm as she talked, but it was difficult to argue with Butcher without becoming outraged. 

“Stop being a fucking coward; you're just exaggerating the issue, and what if she doesn't act like she does?” 

“What do you mean?” Annie asked, perplexed. 

“I spent hours considering this. We could definitely benefit if she fucking forgets everything. We will just make her believe that they have a background that is obviously unimportant and biased if he speaks with her, and she will choose to assist us in killing Homelander and him.”

“Oh my god, you're insane,” Annie muttered as she stroked her head. “Everything is being calculated, except for Y/N's emotions. It would be even worse if she were to suddenly remember that we would be using her to kill Soldier Boy. She cannot pretend to love him while she is completely clueless and confused.”

“You're absolutely mistaken, sweetie; she has no feelings for him. All they did was fuck, that's all. Even if she doesn't recall anything, that will put us in a strong position. Soldier Boy doesn't give a fuck about her. He's an awfully self-centered jerk.”

“I'm not sure, Butcher. In the previous few months, they were pretty close. He may have feelings for her, and if so, he must already be looking for her everywhere. I hate to admit this, but it's possible.”

“Annie, don't be a fool. Please stop making me laugh, will you? He is the type of man who will never, ever fall in love. Did you witness him brutally murdering Crimson Countess? You fuking did. He had declared that she was his true love. What happened then? Without batting an eye, he fucking slaughtered her. He had only known Y/N for a single year, but he had known Crimson for years. The cunt is not and will never be in love with her. It's a good thing she can't recall anything at all about him.”

Butcher's mention of the Crimson Countess issue gave Annie some relief. He killed his girlfriend as soon as he was released, proving that he was, in fact, an obsessed psychopath. 

“So you're going to turn her into both a hunter and a prey at the same time? If Soldier Boy ever finds her, will you tell her the truth about everything that happened between her and him?” Annie asked while she saw you two laughing with Kimiko. 

“She will know what she needs, nothing more.” Butcher's mind raced with ideas about your abortion and pregnancy. Though it was difficult, he was doing his best to push the bitter moment behind his memory. His only wish was that you would never know this. “You don't tell her anything about anything if she suspects something, alright?” 

“I know, I know,” Annie muttered, becoming irritated at the situation's whole complexity. “But I'm not quite sure, Butcher. She has been kind to everyone for more than a year, but she is naive. I believe we are violating her trust.”

Butcher just responded, “No,”  in a tone that seemed detached. “We're doing our best for her. She and Soldier Boy would never have a life together. Is that something you can think about? It's preferable to help her overcome this than to witness her breakdown due to a false sense of reality. She needs a real life. She's better off without him, or else she'll die the same fate as Crimson Countess. She holds no importance for him.”

“Yeah,” Annie murmured. “I guess you're right.”

There was nothing at all about you, even if Ben waited for hours to gather information about you, even if it was something else. You seemed to be missing. 

“Will you fucking put in more effort?” He looked at the woman staring at the computer in front of her, attempting to find something with shaky hands, and he added angrily, “Why is this fucking company paying you for?”

“I apologize, sir,” she muttered. She appeared as though she would burst into tears in a second. “We're all trying our hardest to locate or find a thing about her, but nothing at all has been found. Not even one thing at all. She seems to be nonexistent.”

Ben completely lost patience after she finished speaking, and as he glared at her with hate and disgust, he grabbed one of the room's tables and threw it away, causing terrified witnesses to gasp in terror. 

“Please, sir,” the woman pleaded, asking to speak again. “Just give me some more time.”

“I'll kill every one of you before I fire your useless fucking cunts. If you fucking don't find her, Butcher, or anyone else I told you to find, you're all fired. I swear to you that. Understood?”

Her hands were fisted in her skirt as she took a swallow and watched Soldier Boy depart the room before he broke down more computers in a fit of rage. “Yes, sir,” she responded in a shaking voice. 

Ben turned to face his surroundings and peered out the window, looking in on the entire city, which was a flurry of lights and sounds. Since he was free, his supe hearing was much more sensitive, and he tried his hardest to concentrate on every sound in the area in an attempt to desperately detect a trace of you, but there was nothing. 

Ben's heart hurt with grief and agony, recalling your last conversation the night before the catastrophe. It was getting unbearable how much he had missed you. He had no idea that one day he would be sitting in the Vought chair and you would disappear. God knows where you were. 

Despite his assurances to you to avoid Vought and all associated matters, he ultimately resumed his business with Vought. He was left with no other option. He would play their games, though, if it meant protecting you and himself. Ben was merely unsure about your possible reaction to everything, though. 

Ben was confident that you had already seen the media speech he gave earlier. When he found you, he would explain his actions, even if you were presumably disappointed to see him collaborating with Homelander and Vought. He didn't want a life without you. He just wanted to live a life with you, far from everything else, but he realized that as long as he remained as Soldier Boy—the world's toughest superhero—that wouldn't be possible.

Ben gave himself a sour smile as he thought back to your final day together. He had really missed your cheerful and lighthearted attitude toward him. However, even after he made it clear to the media that he would be in the Vought Tower, where were you, and why did you still refuse to approach him? 

“Dad?” Ben scowled as Homelander muttered. 

“For god's sake, stop fucking calling me that.” Ben remarked angrily, “You sound like a pathetic little child. Fuck, it's so fucking weird and makes me feel like a fossil.”

Homelander responded, “All right, fine,” while glaring at him with hurt pride. “You need to talk to some of the politicians who back us and build a little goodwill in order to start off well. Though the Vice President and I have made it abundantly clear that you will always have our backing and our support for you, too, certain voices still persist because of an incident that happened months ago in New York. Fixing the issue is better, and it would be even better if you went alone, you know. I am actually expected at the meeting, but I have things to do.”

“Christ, I fucking hate this already,” Ben murmured in an angry tone. It felt like decades ago when he was always in communication with the politicians. He was going to become sick. “And what the hell will you be doing?”

“It appears that a few executives and individuals with significant knowledge about the company are absent. I must locate them and take care of the situation.” Homelander sighed, as if there was just too much to get done. He was just thinking about A-Train's betrayal. He needed to locate him as quickly as possible.

“Okay, this is the best I could do so far. I think it's strong, but I'm not sure if it's strong enough to kill Homelander,” Frenchie remarked, showing the virus in a little tube in his hands as everyone stared at him nervously. “We have to give it a shot.”

With a dubious glance at Frenchie, Butcher seized the tube and examined the virus closely. “How much do you think it's strong?”

“I cannot say something without trying.”

With a furious sigh, Butcher began to consider his options. He understood that going forward, he would need to take extra caution. Everybody was proceeding carefully. 

MM remarked, “We have to try this, Butcher,” and you remained silent, observing Butcher's expression. 

At last, Butcher remarked, “Alright, ladies. As far as my knowledge, tonight Ninja Cunt and Octupus Fucker are hosting a party, and of course, politicians will be present. Soldier Boy and Homelander will not be there. This indicates that we are getting close to killing Homelander if we are able to eliminate Flying Narcoleptic Cunt. Then we will strengthen it so that it can kill Soldier Boy and Homelander too.”

“It seems like a suicide attempt to me,” MM remarked, but the way he looked was devoid of fear. 

You remarked, “Where there are politicians, it means it will be well protected,” as you waited for Butcher to go into detail about his strategy. 

“Damn, it's easy to go inside, sweetheart. Finishing the job is what matters most,” Butcher remarked, grinning and glancing between his fingers like a hunter does. “Their asses cannot get away from the CIA.”

“What do you think?” When Butcher saw everyone's bewildered expressions fixed on the virus-filled tube, he asked. 

Annie sighed and added, “It's risky. Still, we must give this a try. We didn't have a lot of options left. Now, we just have one chance.”

Butcher smiled broadly at you all and put the tube in his pocket once you all nodded. “Then let's fucking kill some super-whores.”

You had to fight for nearly an hour until Butcher and the others agreed that you could do this assignment on your own since you needed to start somewhere. Even though you understood they were only worried for you, it was an important and dangerous decision from the very beginning. That was already known to you when Butcher accepted you into his team. It wasn't different at all from the first time you abducted Translucent; you knew the risks.

When you informed them that there would be neither Homelander nor Soldier Boy and that you were the finest shooter, they all at last consented to let you complete the job. It would be incredibly simple because you have never missed a shot before. But just in case something goes wrong—which you prayed it wouldn't—Kimiko will also be coming with you.

“Okay, now that you two listen to me. They're all going to show up, so your plan is to conceal and shoot Ninja Cunt when the opportunity presents itself. You only get one chance, and I have no doubt that you won't miss it. From here, all of us will be listening to you.” As you straightened your clothes and inhaled deeply, Butcher gave you a shoulder pat. “Are you still sure you want to do that?”

You quickly replied, “Of course,” and inserted the tube into your gun. “Kimiko will accompany me in any case. With her, I know I'm safe.”

Kimiko smiled broadly and gave you a thumbs up. 

With Kimiko's assistance, you were able to ascend the house and reach a spot from where you could view the guests well. The third floor was the best place to avoid drawing attention to yourself. You also needed to know that you needed to keep your heart rate under control and be perfectly silent. 

You spoke with Kimiko over the phone when you noticed that Black Noir and The Deep had joined the party and that politicians had shown up at the residence. 

“We need to be quick.”

Kimiko gestured for you to point toward Black Noir's back, but before you could do so, you noticed Soldier Boy coming inside. 

Your eyes grew wide, and you looked at Kimiko while covering your mouth to avoid making a sound. She was also afraid. You knew that you had to shoot Noir in order to see the virus's full force, even though Soldier Boy's entrance was unexpected. You weren't entirely sure about that, though, so you could even be able to shoot Soldier Boy. 

You stayed as far away as you could and observed everyone conversing from the third floor while aiming for Noir. Your heart was beginning to race, and your hands were drenched in sweat. You prayed that no one would see you. You weren't built for this, maybe. Fuck.

Feeling uncertain about whether to shoot Noir or Soldier Boy, you continued to aim for Noir in accordance with the plan. It would have been a waste of time if it hadn't killed Soldier Boy.

You muttered, “Oh, god,” and then cursed yourself for speaking. At least everyone appeared to be quite busy, and there were much too many servants.

You sighed and put the gun into your jacket as Noir slipped out of sight. It was completely out of the blue for Soldier Boy to show up, yet you felt bad about ruining the mission. You turned to talk to Kimiko, but she was nowhere to be seen. Oh no.

What the hell was happening?

Ben gulped the moment he heard your small sound. Assuming he wasn't daydreaming or anything, he recognized your voice. He fucking knew it was you, even though he didn't know how. Perhaps you were looking for him and at last managed to get back to him. 

Ben broke off his conversation with the dull politician and hurried to the third floor. The house had numerous rooms, but he concentrated on your heartbeat and breathing, which helped him find the correct door with ease. He was becoming overly excited about the possibility of you two getting back together. 

His eyes instantly softened as he noticed you standing in front of the window, appearing perplexed. Ben closed the door behind him and came toward you without thinking, taking quick steps. He took you in his large, powerful arms and began to kiss you frantically. 

“Fucking finally,” he whispered between his kisses. “It's so hard to find you, baby,” he said, taking you in his arms and swiftly setting you down on the table. It wasn't until he saw your face that he understood how much he had been missing you. 

When Soldier Boy continued kissing you, you were so taken aback and terrified that you were unable to move to defend yourself. When he kept saying how much he missed you, you felt perplexed, and your head began to hurt so badly. But you didn't do anything to avoid upsetting him or anything. 

Even if you didn't smell like anybody else, the last time he smelled your neck and hair, your scent was delicate and tender. But now, it was rather bitter and sad. Ben was confused, but he reasoned that it had to be because you had been apart for a while and were deeply missing one another. It was not a significant matter. 

Fearing that he may harm you or something, you kissed him back. Then, as his hands were going to come into contact with your gun, you kissed him once more, even harder, pressing your hands on the armor on his chest. He moaned into your mouth, and you were close to crying because you had no idea what was going on, but all you could do was play his game, whatever it was. He had hands all over your body. 

Ben pulled back, smiling as he looked at your swollen, red lips and kissed your forehead after hearing your heartbeat race. You didn't tell him that you missed him too, so his pride was a little damaged. 

“It's been so long. Didn't you miss me?” Ben asked softly.

You had to get back to Butcher as quickly as you could. Why would Kimiko even abandon you alone in this place? 

You nodded at Soldier Boy as your mind whirled with ideas. Perhaps Butcher could explain what was happening to you, but first you had to protect yourself from Soldier Boy. 

Leaning his chin to meet your eyes, he said, “Hey, youre trembling, baby. You are safe with me here, so you don't need to be afraid.”

You said, “I don't know,” unsure of what to say. “I need to go,” you murmured, unsure of his reaction. 

You freeze, seeing the darkness in his gaze. 

“Where?” he asked harshly.

Ben felt confused and irritated to see you acting so distant and afraid of him. It was possible that anything occurred during his absence or that the reason you were acting this way was due to Vought and other ongoing issues. 

As soon as you remembered what had transpired between him and Butcher, you closed your mouth and peered around the room. When you got the chance, you should have walked out of the house. 

He imprisoned you on the table and said, “To Butcher and others?” in an annoyed tone, leaving you with nowhere to go. “No fucking way.” 

You tried your luck again and whispered, “I don't want to stay here.”

Ben sighed and made an effort to ignore your stubbornness about going back to Butcher and the others while trying to contain his rage. He had hoped he was more important to you, but he knew you cared deeply about them. 

“Baby,” Ben whispered, trying not to frighten you away while he gently touched your cheek and met your tearful eyes. “I know things didn't go as we hoped, but we can talk it out, don't you think?”

You tried to move free of his grip, but he didn't even move. 

“I refuse to let you go. Not when you came to me like that,” he remarked. “You're coming with me.”

The mission failed, and you were in the hands of a monster.

Next Chapter

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: Comments are very much appreciated. I’d like to know what you think. I hope it is a good chapter 👀

Taglist: @smexydilflover @deebris @coolrobloxkid28 @endrfairy @libby99hb @raynamorono23 @cwutesygrl @ladysparkles78 @seokjinluvb0t     @deangirl96 @whendiditendalthoughenjoyment @mostlymarvelgirl @dilfsandmartinis @deans-spinster-witch   @mayafatimakhan @riah1606 @unleashthelion @cnmcgee @ahoytothestorm @hells-dragon @bitchykittenconnoisseur @peachhiz @ilovecooperhoward @anundyingfidelity

[notthesomefather]

Goddess Hel, divine hostess whose arms lovingly embrace all guests, Watch over those who have crossed your gates against their will. Care for those taken from us and bless them with tranquil rest.

Godx Loki, story-teller and guardian of outcasts, Give words to our sorrow so that we may honor their memories. Breathe air into our lungs so we may bellow our love over hatred.

Goddess Hel, cherisher of life and daughter of metamorphosis, Bestow in their loved ones moments of laughter, healing, and peace. May their names echo not just in sorrow but in smiling remembrance.

Godx Loki, change-bringer and waker of revolution, Spark the flames of unrelenting authenticity within us. Stoke the ember of truth until the hateful are blinded by its light.

Under the cut are the siblings, youth, and elders whose lives were taken due to hatred, bigotry, and fear. I understand it is incredibly triggering, but I believe we owe it to them to read their names.

We love you. We are unendingly sorry and we will never stop fighting until the hatred that stole you from this life has been extinguished. We love you so much.

(December 2023 - November 2024) Savannah Williams Bernardo Panteleon Pepper Mychel Peterson Mariah Ruby Rachel Williams F. L. “Bubba” Copeland Lola Laperla Ebony McDaniels Shandon Floyd Tiesha McFarland Kejuan Richardson Amiri Jean Reid Mya Finch Travis Stimeling Demita Jo Armstrong Onteris Owens-Campbell Jesse Viviano White Star Possum Jermaine Golden Meghan Riley Lewis Zoey Flye Madison Montana Care Hansen Amber Minor Ashlei Jasmine Colgate-Edwards Fleetwood Mars Mozee Shelby “Lexus” Riddick-Walker Kimbella Blackshear Easley Jeffcoat Tripp Schultz Lady Fabian Sanchez James Moen Dana Randolph “Desiree A. DeMornay” Quin Joy Sasha Williams Jennell Jaquays Sarina Mihailoff Sasha Washington-Cohen “Sasha Fierce” Guelila “Gigi” Iyob Videl Lombardo Savannah Rose Rivers Amore Kathy “Otter” Ottersten Robin Valentina Forrest Douglas Buckley Giselle Stone Tristan Michael Bustos “Tristyn St. Clair” Kitty Monroe Natalia Skye Teddy Reese Curran Erick Krouse Noah Jackson Chase Ellie Walsh Nex Benedict Emma “África” Parrilla García Blakely Hanson Righteous TK “Chevy” Hill Ashton Myles Clatterbuck Madison Nicole Spann “Madison St. Claire” Cecilia Gentili Diamond Cherish Brigman Elliot Ganiel Fae Morganna Barbone Aurelia A. Legassey Alex Franco Meraxes Medina Ty Geissinger “Ty Holiday” Andrea Doria Dos Passos “Maggie” Yella Clark Allister Matthews Tiffany Azalea Monceaux Tara Fable Randy Dudley River Neveah Goddard Tee “Ace” Arnold George A. Schappell Starr Brown Robbi Mecus Basil Brown Tayy Dior Thomas Kita Bee Kamryn “Cantrell” Smith Jazlynn Johnson Daelicious O’hare Mizani Darri C. Moore Niomi Jenkins Michelle Henry Saanti Bonét Valentino Pauly Likens M. Tapia Lynn Conway Liara Kaylee Tsai Dylan Gurley Griffin Shaun Sivret Kenji Zemonta Spurgeon Ev Smith Shannon Boswell Levi Castillo Lily Autumn Rose Monique Brooks Noelle Woolley Indiana Grayson Vanity Williams Tai’Vion Lathan Jhzara “Femmie” Williams Baxter Zachary Hawk Kassim Omar Liam Johns Mahdia Lynn Cass Trystero Chilli Pepper Barbie Iceland “Redd China” Honee Daniels Serenity Birdsong Adela Vázquez San Coleman Zeta Muirgen Seraph Haber

[brynn-lear]

When The Cypress Tree Wilts [Yandere!Kamisato Ayato x Reader]

Prompt: Kamisato Ayato, the sole survivor of Teyvat, struggles to cope with grief. He finds solace in the company of a fellow survivor, (Y/n), on the Astral Express. Although the two came from different universes, with him being a fictional character on (Y/n)'s end, he had grown fond of them. Perhaps too fond for Mister Yang's liking. He has seen this story played out once already. [Dedicated to @jessamine-rose]

Content Tags: (light?) yandere themes, major character death, we ain't trusting getting roses again after this one boys

For twenty-seven years, the cypress tree stood alone. Its branches, exhibiting complete fortitude to withstand erosion, have been a home for many animals. A guardian of many and a home for herons. It's no stretch to say its artistic seriousness made the Cypress tree the Warden of the Forest. 

What happens, though, if the forest catches fire? What happens when everything it held dear—all the pillars ingrained in the firmest soil—is reduced to ashes in a single glance? When the forest's life-loving temperament disappears, just what is left of the guardian tree? 

There's only one answer: the Cypress loses its Inazuman function. Harmony, balance, and peace wither away from the tree's symbolism. All that's left is the alternative Enkanomiyan myth: cypress trees must only be planted as a mourning tradition. 

The Warden of Death...

Kamisato Ayato closed his eyes, making his umpteenth attempt to breathe steadily. 

He sat upright on one of the Astral Express's couches. It's been more than eight months since he had found himself as the sole survivor of his world. So far, everything that had been told to him had been unreal. 

Gone were the clan, his retainers, and his dearest sister. None were left as he watched their remains swept by the wind. Memories of Ayaka's burnt hair and cheeks crumbling refused to leave his every waking moment. He tried desperately to hold on, but the ashes kept slipping through his fingers until his family's white heron was reduced to a lifeless husk. Her feathers were plucked too soon.  

He cannot have her back. He cannot have his clan back. His world was forever unsalvageable.

That was his fate as the Remembrance's souvenir. He can carry the weight of survival while the memokeepers preserve Teyvat's memories.  

But at least he has someone in a similar position as himself. 

"Mister Yang," you called over the older man hushedly. Welt glanced at the mopping mess and knew just what you were hinting at. Better to alert someone who can assist him better.

"Are you alright, Mister Kamisato?" Welt asked, sitting beside Ayato. He passed his cane onto his other hand so he could pat his shoulder. Ayato only laughed stiffly. 

Thankfully, it's not an entirely hopeless cause. There was, at least, a silver lining to make up for it. No matter how dim the glimmer was, he at least had the Express's understanding. 

And yours as well. 

Ab███████, h█ed his pl█as.

"—to, you can still think this through!"

"Stand back, Himeko."

Just like him, you lost your world, too. You came from a fabric of existence wherein he was deemed fictional. A video game called "Genshin Impact", as you called it. You were terrified when you discovered your universe crumbled because of some time-travel paradox. But in spite of your enormous losses, curiosity triumphed over fear. You would prefer exploring the galaxy than thinking about how much work you still need to do for your college classes.

But today? You rest. After all, the express is landing in Penacony.

While Welt did his best to provide consolation, you handed them warm drinks. Ayato gave you a gentle nod. 

He gave it a quick sip. Unlike Himeko's, your brew was more tame. Not at all professionally made— it's everyday coffee— but that adds more to its appeal. Ayato politely wiped possible stains near his lips. You can't help but notice how his mole was placed below it. 

He's definitely a video game character, that's for sure. They don't make people this attractive in your old world. 

Just holding the coffee you made… feeling its warmth in his hands… It gave him strength to speak. 

Ayato sighed. "Apologies, I simply… will take longer to recover my mental composure. I am not usually this easy to rattle or ramble often. I deeply apologize for the trouble I caused the express thus far."  

"I do wonder if I had wronged the Gods. I committed plenty of misdeeds in the eyes of the Shogun, yet they were pardoned. But perhaps the Heavenly Principles…" He muttered, thinking he was inaudible. More than half a year without his retainers and constant troubles had dulled his vigilance.

Welt shook his head. "Do not be harsh on yourself by culminating these harmful… ideals, Mister Kamisato."

"I agree." You said. "At any rate, you'll end up miserable for the entire month if you keep overthinking what that Silver Wolf said."

His mood had been visibly dampened since Silver Wolf's last visit. She claims that he was "destined for ruin based on Elio's script" and that it was better he knew about it now rather than later. 

Ayato looked away. "I suppose so… This wishful thinking brings me nothing but thoughts such as to save my one and only sister, with this pitiable strength— how can I recreate the past?"

Welt grew cold with mild horror. Then, he cleared his throat after a suspiciously long pause. 

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

"Why focus on that when the future awaits you?" He said, but with how the older man refused to meet his lilac eyes, there must be more he won't let on. 

"Your reluctance… Does this have something to do with what the memokeeper previously stated?"

"...What Black Swan said?" You tilted your head. 

Welt sighed. "So many things must be runnin' around your head... I don't usually encourage drinking, but maybe you should have a few shots later."

"I shall consider it, but I must know now, Mister Yang." He looked at him. "What did she mean when she said I was an alternate version of your acquaintance, Otto Apocalypse?"

Welt coughed up his coffee. 

Re██y his angu█████ c███s.

"-to, don't do this. You can't bring ██████ back—"

“Your farcical tangents will distract me no more. Do not play parlor tricks with that cane of yours. My mind is sound, and my decision is final."

"..."

"..." 

"..." 

Ever since Ayato was dubbed as a new Nameless alongside you, he's been bombarded with both blunt and subliminal messages of his supposed "true" nature. One faction agrees he's an existence not meant to be trifled, while the other wants to cultivate him into a villain. 

You don't know much about that. Unlike whatever hero's journey he had been experiencing— you're detached from trouble. Your new life was spent writing, dressing up with March, eating with Stelle, and reading through Dan Heng's data banks about constellations & other aesthetically pleasing biological entries. You were a quiet existence. Black Swan remarked you're amicable for someone who cannot return to normalcy. You embrace change far better than others.

But you think that's because there's enough grieving for the Express to carry; they don't have room to acknowledge yours… 

"You're Kamisato Ayato, not Otto." You told him firmly. "Don't overthink what she said."

"It is not as if I do not know that, how—"

"No, there are no buts or howevers; that's final."

Ayato laughed softly, no longer tense. 

"Understood. I'm your Kamisato Ayato, right?" He tilted his head like a dog. 

"Yes, yes, you're our Ayato." You sighed. 

He's a lot cuter when relaxed. 

You shook your head. 

No, better not let this develop into something else. You don't want to have a crush on a guy that's essentially no different from a flatmate. 

Furthermore, you exclusively confide in him. You'd rather your relationship as each other's anchor remains the same in the future. After all, you're not the type to let everyone in the room know your baggage. So was Ayato, but... His trauma lends itself to the extremes.

While you were lost in thought, adorable footsteps strutted closer. 

Angry, adorable footsteps. 

"What are you guys doing drinking coffee?! The train is about to jump soon!!!"

Pompom huffed. They put their little paws on their hips, scoffing at you three. You apologized profusely, forgetting that your trip to Penacony was in ten minutes. 

"Sorry, Pompom." Welt sheepishly said. 

Ayato looked at Pompom earnestly. "So am I."

"Whatever, okay, but you better change later! You can't join a wedding wearing those clothes!!!"

You frowned. You were already dressed, though. You thought you already looked perfect for the evening. Maybe you should've tried harder... Perhaps you were too relaxed about this...

"Oh, but I'm sorry…" You told them, frowning.

Pompom shook their head, panicking. "Not you, (Y/n), you're always so harsh on yourself— you always know how to dress pretty. I'm talking about these two boys!"

They stared at each other before laughing awkwardly, provoking the conductor further. 

Pompom growled, grabbing the broom. 

"You know what?! Get off the sofa! Change! NOW!!!"

Abu████ce, stir this b███ft ████e, 

"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM?!? HE WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO US!!!"

It's clear that someone isn't having the best time.

Penacony weddings are too lively for Ayato's tastes. But much like shadows, nobody can evade the bright lights. 

He nearly tumbled when he saw you. By the looks of his pale face, the lively atmosphere had been draining him senseless. While he maintained his elegant demeanor when talking to Aventurine (and failing), you were refilling your cup at the food aisle. Once Ayato reached you, he desperately wanted to place his head on your shoulder. 

“Please… lend me… Five…”

You smiled and opened your arms.

"Don't speak, I got you."

He leaned on your shoulder.

The five seconds you assumed were startlingly morphing into five minutes. You can't feign as a warm statue for that long. While you worry about your willpower, Ayato sank deeper into his thoughts to meditate. 

From this angle, he looked like a resting cat.

"You okay, Ayato?"

"The SoulGlad, it's so…"

Ah, right. You figured he might've drunk.

"Not once had it been a passing thought that excessive alcohol and fire displays would be a common wedding practice. The culture shock is astounding." Ayato leered quietly. "Thankfully, I no longer care about putting on a social mask. I cannot stomach participating in copious amounts of… festivities."

You laughed. Is it bad you find his suffering entertaining? 

"Is it so different from how they conduct weddings in Inazuma?"

"Hard to say… The Clan may be focused on cultural ceremonies, but I purposely avoided weddings. It helps steer clear talks of arranged marriages. I can only name Chisato's as an exception on top of my head." Ayato placed a hand on his chin. 

He continued. "Extravagant weddings such as this had a decline for two years. The dismal lives of vision wielders immensely affected how much pyrotechnics and other displays were available. Any commonplace joy could be marked as vulgarity by the Shogun at any second... All those charges just for an insincere ceremony."

"I… See." You assumed the answer was a resounding no. "Sounds like you're against marriages of convenience."

Ayato pulled away, looking at you. 

"Not entirely. I understand why it's a necessary evil, given our politics." He said. "But I still firmly believe that when there's true love, nothing should stand in its way."

His eyes reveal that he's starting to sober up. In Penacony, it was probably a beneficial phenomenon. Might as well give away hangover relief if you market alcohol as the icon of your dreamscape. 

"(Y/n), this may sound peculiar, but I glimpsed at an apparel store nearby."

You nodded slightly. He knew you had an affinity for fashion. When you visited the Xianzhou Luofu, he mapped out stores that might interest you. Ayato likes the way you dress. Sometimes, he would even approach you for a consult. 

"And? What did you see? Did you take a picture?"

He groggily nodded and pulled out his phone. 

"Please, take a look."

…

You blinked, turning red. 

"Ayato, these are wedding dresses…"

"I do know that, yes, but don't you believe some of these would suit you? Oh— this one is a particular favorite of mine."

…

He said it so casually that you were beginning to doubt if you were insane. Do friends casually daydream about another friend in a wedding dress? Is that a norm for platonic relationships? You looked away and gently pushed his phone away. 

… You hate how you liked what he picked out.

And you know he noticed it, too. Cheeky bastard. 

"Let's hold that thought for now."

"May I ask why?" He tilted his head, slightly pouting. "I think a traditional white wedding dress would compliment you. Are you, perhaps, seeing flaws I have missed?"

"Y-You're really not getting it, huh…"

Whatever was troubling you, he wasn't about to dissect it. His thoughts were reduced to simplicity that evening, just down to you look gorgeous tonight. The two of you should extend your visit to Penacony for much longer. It is always night here… 

How unfair that you dressed so prettily; he wished it was for his eyes alone. The delicately lace-adorned pastel pink dress suits you well. It felt like a grave sin for him to keep staring at the delicate sapphire necklace resting atop your neck. Not to add, a few strands of your hair framed your face, and your hair was tastefully swept into a neat (h/c) bun. What completes the look is the strappy heels. 

When will it be your wedding, (Y/n)?

Your face contorted. "How drunk are you?"

Ayato smirked curtly and shrugged back to what March calls his "nobleman smile", gazing at you intently. You weren't sure if he was listening to you anymore. 

"Enough."

That was his reply, short and simple. 

As long as your eyes mirror his, it's enough for him. 

“LAAADDIEESSS AND GENTLEEEMEEENNN AND OTHER LIVING CREAAATURREEESSS!!!!”

A rather shrill voice shouted through a microphone. It's the wedding's host. From the volume, anyone can discern that it came from the event room. You placed your cup down. It's that time— noises from excited guests, lonesome people, in particular, were shared around. No one can miss their hands, which tremble with excitement. 

You jolted.

Shit, that's Sparkle. You promised Stelle and March that you four would take BFF pictures in the costume photo booth before the final farewells. Something about silly masks and hats. Miss it, and you're guaranteed to enter the next fight without a shield. Worse, you might wake up with a bat-shaped wound on your head. 

You grabbed Ayato and swerved past the crowd.

“(Y-(Y/n)?!”

Ayato's mind went blank. 

You voluntarily held his hand. Gloved hands. Still, he thanked March that she gave him a pair for the occasion. His hands were sweating, and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. 

Public displays of affection are generally subdued in his old world. Handholding raises questions regarding those reared into nobility like he was. His upbringing was far from liberal, so he did his best to give his sister more freedom, yet he is not accustomed to this skinship.

He gripped yours back weakly. Ayato can't stop staring at your determined expression. He gulped. Can you sense it? Are you secretly enjoying this? Do you know what you're doing? 

Can you feel your effect on him?

He's not just drunk. 

He might be hopelessly in love with you.

Ayato grew hotter by the second. His breath was stripping away bit by bit. This epiphany was consuming him. He's been trying to deny it for as long as possible, but how laughable is it to do so when he had often pictured himself in peaceful household situations beside you? Can such desires be kept in the shadows, much like his Shuumatsuban work?

He wants you.

Kamisato Ayato wants you as his sole partner.

Wherever you're taking him, he'll follow you to the end, down to the last seconds of this script.

"THE BRIDE IS ABOUT TO THROW THE BOUQUET!!!"

Many lonely guests packed together like penguins. When the bride spun the bouquet around her palm, their reactions ranged from hopeful and cheerful to downright competitive and miserable. They thought a few flowers would ensure marriage, which is a little absurd, but who are you to spoil their fun? Simply because they obstruct your path does not warrant your discreet resentment—

Ayato stopped, halting you as well in the process.

"Ngh…?!"

You looked back, and such an act almost felt as forbidden as Orpheus' most egregious mistake.

If there was a semblance of variety in those women's faces, they were unified in one fell swoop. Their faces soured when the bouquet was passed down to its next owner. Worse, the flowers sat so beautifully in his arms.

That's right. His.

Those red roses…

"AALLLLRIIIIGHTTT! IT SEEMS MISTER KAMISATO GOT IT!!!" Sparkle cheered on. She had a crooked smile on her face. It didn't ring as malicious; instead, she was conflicted before she donned a playful mask. "And sheesh, while holding (Y/n) 's hand too— CONGRATS TO THE SOON-TO-BE-S!!!"

Ah, damn it. Instead of this, you wish people had applauded when you presented your thesis. No matter how crestfallen some were, they were at least good sports. They clapped and teased; you even spotted Himeko raising you a glass at your shared table, laughing. Beside her, Welt did you the courtesy of reminding you that you're hands were linked together. You gawked, pulling away as though Ayato's hand burned. Immediately, he cleared his throat and looked away. 

To Ayato, this was the only sign he needed.

With enough time and effort, a leafless tree could still be saved, new birds could still migrate, and an abandoned forest could still be restored. Gradually, he was discovering a fresh cause for optimism instead of a substitute for the people he had lost. There he was, Kamisato Ayato, a hidden custodian of Inazuman traditions, with his feet rooted in a foreign land. Though not very stable, his groundwork keeps him on course.

If he could revive the Kamisato Clan on its brink, how can he not do the same for his life? It's just like what his late father said:

Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it. 

Unfortunately for you, it was yours that held his so tightly.

Hence, whether you like it or not, amidst the guests' congratulatory remarks and the bride's laughs, he had made up his mind.

Ayato will pursue you until you wear the gown of his dreams. 

More people trailed behind Sparkle and the bride as they went down the stage and to Ayato. You made an effort to get in touch with him to return to your starting point. However, it was challenging, given the number of people around. To hear what bashful comments he said was an even taller order.

That was until the bride dragged her new husband towards you.

"Here, dearie, the garter!"

You blinked.

"What?"

"You know the tradition, bouquet, and garter— I know it ain't as exciting as a bouquet, but ya can't be a pair without it." The husband grinned. "C'mon, take it!"

Your eyes widened.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly—"

"Aww, please, do you think we'll get in the way of love when we just got married?" The bride joked. Even though you don't know her well—you just know she's Stelle's friend—you didn't like how this sounded. "C'mon, take it! Don't make poor Mister Kamisato sad."

Did Ayato request this?

You looked back at him. He was smiling at his fellow guests.

He must've made a drunken joke.

"Alright, I'll have it." You'll be a team player, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Ayato's heart was brimming with joy as soon as you accepted it. You twisted the garter around your hand and tied it into a bracelet, and his eyes wrinkled. His face was beaming, and the guests warmly pointed out that it was definitely NOT the drink.

You laughed softly.

Maybe Stelle wouldn't get too angry after she sees these "loots".

Unfortunately, unlike the worlds you once immersed yourself in, your life was not a game. This second try was no exception.

There's a stark difference between the people he loves and himself, Ayato later found. The latter cannot sustain a better life for those he warded, while the former cannot attain the luxury of a peaceful death.

Readers would have gone crazy over how the author mercilessly punished and blamed the main character's dreams if his life had been a work of fiction. If it were genuinely one, he would venture to say that the systematic fate that everyone else was subjected to is the primary criticism.

His mother, his father, his sister, his clan.

And then you?

Ayato had already lost everything twice. 

There's no restraint left for him to hold on to. 

So…

"Mister Kamisato, please hear us out!" March begged, the shrill of her voice becoming hauntingly akin to a dull knife— repeatedly cutting through ears in prolonged agony. 

Ayato scoffed. His blue locks framed his face as he gazed down.

He's heard enough. 

Why shouldn't he challenge his fate?

Why shouldn't he challenge Elio's script?

"Whether I permit you or not, there won't be an intelligent word out of you." 

No other voice came to disparage him. This silence was loud. As if a voice was missing. Ayato looked at the ground.

He had almost forgotten he had used his former "brother" as a sacrifice. Silently, he thanked Dan Heng- or perhaps Dan Feng- for all that he had done for him and his "bride".

This act angered the rest. His temporary family brandished theirs in unison, with Stelle moving to the front. His response greatly saddened March. But Mister Yang? He was frozen. He didn't seem to move an inch. The older man looked deep into his lilac eyes. There must be more he won't let on. 

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

But unfortunately, history is a vicious cycle— and it repeats itself.

He materialized his haran geppaku futsu, letting Dan Heng's blood drip while its azure glow shine bright. But what shone brighter was the cryogenic "coffin" behind him.

You may have lost your battle with this curse, but you have helped him not lose his. 

You were looking out at a night with a full moon in your last moments. The pitch-black moon seemed to loom life itself. As you strolled alone, every step wet your feet, but there's a persistent sense that you might have been staring at your reflection the entire time despite the void's lack of offerings.

It's always night in Penacony. You have heard that innumerable times. Night never sleeps. The chitchat never stops. The tango doesn't halt. But time stands still for you as the rest of the world rejoices. 

But Penacony was not your resting place. It was the Xianzhou. 

How unfortunate that you forget that in your last moments. Mara has a knack for erasing the memory of its victims. The only solace that your admirer gets is that your previous recollections are of him, of you, and of the bouquet and garter you received. 

At least before you closed your eyes, you thought of him. 

Ayato gazed at your mara-struck face once more.

Beauty is eternal. Despite the chill seeping into your bones, your clothes were nothing short of ethereal. A traditional white wedding dress, floor-length with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt, would've been given more justice if the wearer was not frozen in time. The laces and beadwork detailing were reminiscent of sakura petals, with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves.

You're holding a bouquet of roses mixed with sakura...

Just like you, Kamisato Ayato always had a good eye for aesthetics. 

It's a shame the little life left in his eyes was wilting away.

It's a shame that this wedding never happened.

It's a shame you told him you needed more time to think.

It's a shame you're frozen in time.

However...

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it. And Yaoshi has plenty to reach for.

With that, using the blood of the Vidyadhara he had slain, he summoned his new Aeon.

One that he does not particularly believe in. And if he had never placed his blind faith in the Shogun, he doubts he would do the same in Yaoshi.

So, Aeon of Abundance, with the former High Elder's blood on his hands...

Prove him wrong.

"Abundance, heed my pleas,

Repay my anguished cries.

Abundance, stir this bereft peace,

Awaken love from death's disguise."

Bring his soon-to-be Kamisato (Y/n) back to him.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Supernatural Masterlist 2

Dean Winchester & Little Sister!Reader:

Too Much

My Hero

Hold Me

My Job

Strong Enough

Need

Here For (big sister version)

Here For (little sister version)

Not You

Tickle…Spider?

Trade

Let You Down

Trust

Cuddle Buddy

Addiction

Dean’s Girl

Target Practice

Wandering

Sam Winchester & little sister!reader

Worry

Triggers

Abandon

Winchester Brothers & little sister!reader

Reunion

Reunion part 2

Busted

Apple Pie

You’ll Never Guess

Family

Sleepyhead

Queen of Hell

It’s Me

Save Me, Brother

Steak and Pie

Man’s Best Friend

My Turn

Sick Day

Confessions

Cuddle Day

Psych

The Loudest Silence

In Remembrance

Room for Two

Almost

A Broken Outing

Be Here

Hide and Seek

Always

Seat Belts Save Lives

Back Off

Heat of the Moment

No Big Deal

Party Time

Bring Me to Life

Something to Hold Onto (Sam & big sister, Dean & little sister)

Search and Rescue

Hope

Furry Friend

Bullies

Stupid Reasons

Heatwave

Love Language

The Family Business

All the Difference

Another

John Winchester & daughter!reader

Princess

Rage Monster

One Big Family

To Save a Life

Long Day

Daughter Problems

Team Free Will 2.0 & Winchester!reader

67

One Big Family

Hold My Hand

Team Free Will & Winchester!reader

Best Friends

The Good In You

Prom Night

Big Family

Fight Club, Part 2

Bed time

Like Father, Like Daughter

Just Keep Breathing

Just Keep Breathing, part 2

Angelic Interference

Castiel & Winchester!reader (platonic)

Guardian Angel

Caretaker

Let It Out

Take Care

Dean Winchester & Daughter!reader

Quality Time

Daddy’s Girl

Hexed?

Forgive and Forget

What Matters Most

Sam Winchester & Daughter!reader

Just Like You

Hotheads

A Father’s Love?

Dean Winchester x reader

Opposites React (rugby player au)

Sam Winchester x reader

Home Sweet Home

Gabriel & Winchester!reader (platonic)

Trickster’s Pet, part 2

Rowena Macleod & Winchester!reader (platonic)

Auntie Row

[nayatarot777]

messages from deceased loved ones

• pile one •

a lot of your deceased loved ones from far back in your family lineage are coming through. a lot of ancestors who may or may not be remembered by people in the present day. your loved ones who you knew in this lifetime are wanting to let you know how they’ve been united again with those who neither of you knew during your lifetime, and there’s something about them wanting you to remember your roots and your ancestral lineage. it may be quite hidden or unknown, but they’re trying to align something that helps shine a light on the people who came way before you. you have a massive spiritual team thanks to all of these ancestors, and they’re constantly watching over you as your guardians. there’s one main guardian that you have (that you were probably closest to when they were alive) who keeps you protected from people who are looking to use you for something. black cats could be significant to this particular person. perhaps green eyes too. remembering your ancestors will lead you to an awakening. there’s a strong energy of your ancestors having a very significant perspective on life that could benefit you to practice yourself. give offerings to your ancestors in remembrance, if you can. this could be something as simple as burning a tea light candle in commemoration of them. building a connection to your ancestors will push you into this awakening, as they’ll be connected with you enough to give you spiritual downloads at that point. there’s something that they’d like to tell you. and this awakening will add onto your own self-protection and discernment with certain types of people too.

your loved ones are wanting you to remember who you are. not just ancestrally but on a soul level too. to value your authenticity. i feel like they can see that you’re not fully being your true self - because you haven’t remembered who you truly are. they want you to do things FOR YOU. they don’t want you to doubt yourself or your self worth. remember that you are always enough - more than enough. your spiritual guardians are always trying to send you messages about that. for some of you in particular, there’s someone in your life who they’re keeping a close eye on. this person is a straight up toad and your ancestors can see this already. that’s why they’re trying to give you signs about holding onto your self worth, because without it, you’ll fall for this toad and their bs. they’re trying to show you that this person isn’t good enough for you. the way that your awakening can come about is when you allow yourself to have a tower moment. internally. to allow the foundation of your false identity to fall and break down. unplug from other people. relax. do some soul searching for what you find worthy for yourself instead of searching for another person to make you feel worthy. they can’t do that for you since it’s your responsibility. that’s what your deceased loved ones would like to tell you.

patreon

personal readings

youtube

• pile two •

they’d like for you to be a lot more outspoken and speak up for yourself. to say exactly what you mean and not allow yourself to be silenced or swayed by what other people say. they’re around you whenever you have to say something that may be difficult for you to vocalise, on guard in case someone tries to react in a negative way that would affect you. they’re helping you to filter through people’s words and the intentions behind them. this will help you to avoid being manipulated. they’re also asking you to speak to them. to say whatever you want to or needed to when they were alive. they’re still able to hear you. they want you to do this as a step towards letting them go. they feel like you’re holding onto them energetically in somewhat of a negative way. they understand this completely, but they want you to practice grieving and mourning them as a way of moving stagnant energy within your emotional space.

they don’t want you to cling onto them energetically anymore - at least not in the way that you have - because it’s not serving you. it’s holding you back in life and they want you to move forward. you can’t unless you allow yourself to mourn them in it’s entirety and to let them peacefully rest. this will be a gradual and slow process of course, but they want you to start it. they want you to begin healing from their death. they’re really emphasising that you haven’t lost them. you’ve lost their physical form as you know it, but you haven’t lost them spiritually and energetically. remember the law of physics: energy can’t be created or destroyed - only transmuted from one form of energy to another. that means that they can never leave this universe that they exist in. just like the rest of us. our bodies’ energy is transmuted into other material on this physical plane, but our consciousness and our essence is always in existence. letting go of how you knew them in their physical form isn’t losing them spiritually. they’ll still be there. it’s time for healing now. use your awareness of physics and energy to heal you during your grieving process. study the laws of energy if you have to. you’ll realise that what made them who they were (their consciousness and their soul) isn’t gone. they just exist in a different dimension of existence now. a dimension that your physical eyes aren’t aware of but one that your spiritual eyes can see.

patreon

personal readings

youtube

• pile three •

they’re wanting you to take positive action towards the things that you have ambition and inspiration for. they can see that you’re in a vulnerable position right now. it’s like you’re waving a red flag as a sign of needing help - and they’re willing to orchestrate things behind the scenes and provide you what you need. but they can only help you in the spirit realm if you take physical action in the material realm towards what you need. you have to pave the road for them to put blessings and opportunities onto it. there’s a lot of anger that they can see that you have. anger that can be an ingredient to use for transmutation into physical action and motivation. your anger can direct you if you learn how to alchemise it and use it to your benefit. don’t suppress it. embrace it and let it be a compass towards what you need to do and where you need to go for your highest good. i’m hearing them say that anger isn’t ‘bad’. anger is perceived as ‘bad’ by the people who benefit from you not defending yourself. not letting yourself show emotionally that you did/didn’t deserve something and you know it. don’t let them suppress you like that.

there’s advice from your loved ones in the spiritual realm to look beyond the horizons that you feel bound by in your life currently. try to see as far into the future as you can and project a positive view and outlook towards it. even if you feel lost at sea with no idea of where you’re going. pinpoint your consciousness to the ideal of a future that makes you feel true and genuine happiness as a destination point. and pair that with physical action that you’re capable of taking in your present moment. don’t worry about how you’ll get to the destination that you’ve set. pave the road, listen to your transmuted anger that turns into motivation and drive, and follow it. this is the way that your deceased loved one(s) can help course correct your life onto the path that’ll cause you to reach your desired objective.

patreon

personal readings

youtube

[justsomekpopstuff]

seventeen as greek mythology

A/N: this was an idea that I had ages ago and wanted to bring it to life. I didn't want to only do any of the basic Olympians either, so I really went IN on this. Feel free to disagree with how I place them, just don't be a jerk about it! Also, if any artists/edit makers want to use these placements as inspo for art and moodboards and stuff, please do! Just tag me in it so I can see it and give credit

current masterlist | fic recs

Seungcheol: Themis - goddess of divine law and order

Jeonghan: Prometheus - god of forethought and crafty counsel

Joshua: Metis - goddess of good counsel, advice, planning, cunning, craftiness, and wisdom

Jun: Horme - deity of impulse, effort, eagerness, and starting actions

Hoshi: Terpsichore - muse of dance and choral poetry

Wonwoo: Athena - goddess of reason, wisdom, intelligence, skill, peace, warfare, battle strategy, and handicrafts

Woozi: Euterpe - muse of musical poetry

DK: Helios - god of the sun and guardian of oaths

Mingyu: Hestia - goddess of the hearth, home, and domesticity

Minghao: Atraeus - god of dusk, stars, and planets, and the art of astrology

Seungkwan: Mnemosyne - goddess of memory and remembrance

Vernon: Pasithea - goddess of relaxing meditation and hallucinations

Dino: Morpheus - god of dreaming

[elryuse]

Yandere Oneshots

Joy To My World (Yandere Joy X Male Reader)

Red Birthday (Yandere Irene X Male Reader)

The Bitch In Bali (Yandere Ahin X Male Reader)

Mother (Yandere Yoona X Male Reader)

Pain, Torture, Acceptance (Yandere Nana X Male Redhood Reader)

Hurt (Yandere Jessica Jung X Male Reader)

Love Is Weird Isn't It (Yandere Seo Hyunjin X Male Reader)

Dangerous Game (Yandere CL X Male Reader)

My Crazy Ex Gf Is Driving Me Crazy (Yandere Ex GF Sohee X Male Reader)

Thirst (Yandere Heejin X Male Reader)

Jealous. (Yandere Idol Gaeul X Childhood Friend Male Reader)

Sadistic Lovers (Yandere Asylum Patient Irene X Male Reader)

Don't Go (Yandere Rosé X Male Reader)

Cursed Fate (Yandere Minju X Male Reader)

ISOLATED (Yandere Sana X Male Reader)

Desire To Love (Yandere Lisa X Male Reader)

Remembrance Yandere Ex Wife Chaewon X Male Reader)

Pray And Worship (Yandere Yoona X Male Reader)

Forbidden Boundaries (Yandere Stepsister Yeseo X Male Reader)

My Personal Butler (Yandere Princess Wonyoung X Male Butler Reader)

Forbidden Desire (Yandere Older Sister Chengxiao X Male Reader)

Caught In The spider's Trap (Yandere Sub Karina X Male Reader)

Total Submission (Yandere Dom Jihyo X Male Reader)

The Dark Descent Into Madness (Yandere Stepsister J X Male Reader)

Manager Oppa Is Mine (Yandere Rei X Male Manager Reader)

Cold Skin (Yandere Mina X Male Reader)

Slave 4 Life (Yandere Vampire Princess Giselle X Male Reader)

Deadly Classmate (Yandere Classmate Takara X Male Reader)

Broken Wings (Yandere Younger Sister Kazuha X Male Older Brother Reader)

Devil In Disguise (Yandere Xiaoting X Male Reader)

A CEO Stole My Boyfriend (Yandere CEO Minji X Male Reader X Hanni)

The Predator Within (Yandere DOM FWB Haewon X Male Reader)

The Arranged Marriage (Yandere Winter X Male Reader)

Her Idol Crush (Yandere Yunjin X Male Reader)

My Savior (Yandere Rich Girl Karina X Male Reader)

The Devil Within Her (Yandere Eunbi X Male Reader)

My Obsessive Female Mentor (Yandere Jiheon X Male Reader)

Our Perfectly Normal Lovely Relationship (Yandere Mina X Male Reader)

The Debt-Collector (Yandere Debt-Collector Ahin X Male Reader)

Ruined Photos (Yandere Hanni X Male Reader)

Punishments (Yandere Chaeryeong X Male Reader)

Order Up Anyone? (Yandere Bahiyyih X Male Reader)

Dangerous Melody (Yandere Lily X Male Reader)

Stuck With The Ice Cold Princesses (Yandere ITZY Ot5 X Male Reader)

Injured (Yandere Rei X Male Reader)

Hello Neighbor (Yandere Hayoung X Male Reader)

Want You Back (Yandere Winter X Male Reader)

Classroom Troubles (Yandere Sana X Yandere Sullyoon X Male Reader)

Make U Mine (Yandere Gahyeon X Male Reader)

Snap! (Yandere Gaeul X Male Reader)

My Sassy Senior (Yandere Ryujin X Male Reader)

Perfect (Yandere Xinyu X Male Reader)

Where You Belong (Yandere Aespa Ot4 X Male Reader)

Under Her Guidance (Yandere Professor Arin X Male Reader)

Stuck With U (Yandere Sohyun & Hyeju X Male Reader)

His Innocence (Yandere Mina & Kazuha X Male Reader)

Attention (Yandere Student Danielle X Male Teacher Reader)

Lose My Breathe (Yandere Aespa Ot4 X Male Reader)

As It Was (Yandere Idol Chaewon X Male Idol Reader)

Answer Me (Yandere Yujin X Male Reader)

Odd Atelier (Yandere Jennie X Male Idol Reader)

Nobody But Me (Yandere Seoyeon X Male Reader)

My Stepsisters Is Obsessed With Me (Yandere SNSD Ot9 X Male Reader)

Scared To Lose You (Yandere ILLIT Minju X Male Reader)

More Than Friends (Yandere Jisoo X Male Reader)

21st Century Vampire Princess (Yandere Vampire Princess Karina X Male Reader

It Should Be Me (Yandere Yooyeon X Male Reader)

Guardian Angel (Yandere Haewon X Male Reader)

Here With Me (Yandere Isa X Male Reader)

Mafia's Lover (Yandere Mafia Rosé X Male Reader)

Fuck It, Your Ours Now (Yandere Bae & Lily X Male Reader)

The Fallen Seraphims (Yandere Le Sserafim X Male Reader)

Dangerous Game (Yandere Yujin X Male Reader)

My Boss Wants Me Like... Really Really Bad (Yandere CEO Jisoo X Male Reader)

Life Goes On, Unless When It Doesn't (Yandere Ahyeon X Male Reader)

My Chaebol Bully Is Crazy Over Me) Yandere Sohyun X Male Reader)

Not The Same. (Yandere Eunbi X Store Owner Y/n)

Her Fountain Of Youth (Yandere Taeyeon X Younger Male Reader)

[seneon]

( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS .𖥔 ݁

CHAPTER O1. SOMETHING AND NOTHING.

ᝰ SYNOPSIS . . . waters of the garden lake were soaked with the colour of wine red. spells and energies then comes undone at the feeling of the blood in the water.

ᝰ CONTENTS . . . warnings of blood and a sword blade, mentions of murders and minor gore ( really small and short ) wc of 1700+ series masterlist.

THE MOON IS LIKE A RARE BLOSSOM UNFURLING IN THE DARK. it reveals its petals of luminous light, inviting the night creatures to come forth and revel in its beauty. the celestial pearl adorns the dark sky like a silver crown, casting its regal glow upon the earth.

it watches over every living creature of the lands and waters, always keeping a close watch on their breathing souls. what a hardworking guardian the moon is to watch over everyone during the dusk. truly.

stars are its companion. they pranced around the dark heavens, simply leaving behind trails of their twinkling beauty to light up the black heavens. the moon and stars rule the night together.

this much was certain to a man who seeks solace in the essence of the night. the moon favours him, regardless of its eyes on every single move executed. it watches as the man's feet carry him across the grassy field, where it gives the earth unwelcoming thuds of his heavy footsteps over and over again.

touya todoroki gave the soils of the earth a gift so unpleasant that it stains the grass beneath his foot the colours of the deepest wine red. they fell from his skin like the village raindrops, except this was no blessing for neither him nor the earth.

it was a curse. a curse that touya's poor soul has to carry and bring forth onto this world where he knows there wasn't even a place for a sinner like him to revel in the blazing flames of hell.

the footsteps he took were so heavy that it felt like he was being chained down by all the souls that sought revenge onto his own soul. they held him down with their fingers wrapped around his ankle as if they were pulling him into the underworld where their souls could never rest.

if anything, touya todoroki does not bat an eyelash at these haunting visions. he does not spare a single attention to give these nightmares a care. from such a young age he has stained his fingers along with his innocent soul with the warm blood of victims.

there wasn't any choice for him anyways. the man simply feeds on the sight of blood or the feeling of blood on his skin to live. it was as if his whole fate has been twisted since the beginning where he has been created to be just like this.

touya walks his way through the grassy field, his heavy feet coming to a halt when he spots a rather pleasant sight of nature.

the sounds of the calming water is enough to temporarily take his mind off of the events that played through today. touya stares the reflection of the moon in the waters of the lake for such a long time that he forgot he is even standing. his legs starts to feel sore.

with a bird that feels like it wanted to fly through the night to experience the same nightly beauty, it made a sound that struck touya out of his trance. and once again, his feet moves forwards to the side of the lake, the bird giving touya a few friendly chirps before flying away.

does the bird not know that the black-haired man is not to be meddled with? he could simply strike an arrow through the body of the flying creature and it would be a supper for the man. well, no matter. it did touya a little favour.

he takes a seat near the lake, just a little bit far from the edges. the sleeves of his kimono is stained with the essence of an unfortunate soul.

touya gently dips half of his arm into the calm waters and rubs his sleeves with his other hand’s fingers so the blood could free themselves from being tied to the clothing he wears. even if they were dried up, they still came off.

that is good, because he does not want any piece of the people he killed stuck onto him as remembrance. he never wants a piece of them. his mind is enough to carry every single detail of his murders. there is no need for a physical reminder when a mental reminder is already so prominent.

dried blood stains are lifted from his sleeves. they danced in the waters, creating a sort of pattern before dispersing to run down the long ends of the lake.

when touya does not want a physical piece of his victim's on him, he doesn't seem to mind it all that much if their blood is stained all over his blade. his katana, his one and only companion that has been with him through thick and thin. touya loves the colour of blood red on his silver blade.

thought right now it seems way too dirty, even with his preference to keep his blade as it is. so he dips his sword into the lake and holds it down. the gentle waters will wash the crying blood away. they will wipe his blade clean and grant him purity.

but will it truly be pure as he has been wishing for over two decades?

it shall always remain a mystery to the curious creatures of the night, including the moon that shone upon touya's tainted soul. its silver hues veils the man like a bride in marriage, covering and protecting him as if he is the moon's child.

touya's fingers lightly traces down his cold blade, the blood sticking onto his skin before he dips them into the lake again to finish the cleansing.

he shouldn't be touching his blade like that. not when the wails and screams of the vengeful starts to surface at the back of his mind, coming in louder and louder as the seconds passes by agonisingly.

with so much blood that stains his blade dirty, the blood is so prominent in the water. it left a trail, a remembrance that their souls are now probably free from being stuck to him all this time. touya watched as the blood danced down the waters.

the stars winked at you from the endless arch of void-black beyond the moon's corona. in places they were birthstone-blue and beautiful, glittering in their heavenly finery.

they had a faint, silver tint and they. all of them were beacons of hope for all the lost souls of the world, or so you simply thought. perhaps in a way the twinkling sparkles of heaven are the deceased which you have erased from the footholds of the earth.

maybe they follow you around just to see where the evil in them have disappeared to.

you walked along the grass, lush and soft. it is soft, yet dry, and it crunches under your footsteps where your sandals have kissed the ground. the river water flows at your side, waters flowing smoothly as if they are eating away at your nightly anxiousness.

tonight, it seemed like the moon nor the dark will take your side to favour you. however, two fireflies came dancing around you. they remind you of your silly dreams as a little girl— to be like the carefree fireflies that roam the dark night to emit a glowing ball of light that carries the dreams of the slumbering.

it's just your anxious soul, heaven's sprinkles, and two fireflies that accompanied you in your walk down the river. nothing could go wrong in this moment. right?

a string pulled at your nose and it visibly crawled into your sense of smell. soon, the fireflies have bid you their calming good-byes and you are left alone with the stars and the sounds of the river flowing.

it is a scent that tickles your senses and finds an uncomfortable haven in your soul. a vivid memory replays in your mind over and over again. the smell of metal that coats your nose, hot red liquid kissing your skin and painting them as if you were a canvas.

it is blood that triggered your soul. and like a snap of realisation, you knew it is not the blood that belongs to the normal. it belongs to multiple, in silent cries for help as your feet moves to the edge of the river. far down the river lies a lake, and the smell is prominent, coming from the lake.

your fingers are dipped into the river water and the uneasiness crawls up onto your skin like thousands of spiders making their way up your fingers and to your arms. soon, they will make their way into your body, eating from the outside to nest on the inside.

it is blood, the blood of the innocent. so many innocent souls screamed in agony in the waters.

they were all faint, but it was enough with your magic skills to tell you that the blood had been washed off in the same waters. it comes from the lake, since no other individual is basking in the same river as you were.

a crunch that echoes to make an appearance in your ears has you shooting your attention where it came from. the sharp sounds of a blade unsheathing is enough to get you back on your feet as you turn your body to face the person that has come across you.

“who are you?” you voiced out, holding your arms in place to gather a few energies around your fingers in preparations to cast a spell or two.

but somehow, the energy you gathered around your fingers cracked and flickered upon the lingering waters that stained your hands wet. it makes you falter for a second, then the sharp tip of the blade pecks the skin on your throat.

“move, and this goes through your throat,” touya todoroki’s voice is laced with the deadliest of poison as he spreads a pinch of darkness into your soul. it's his way of greeting people, apparently.

and your pure energy boils your body as if you were being burned alive. this is the time to shut the gates to your flowing energy before this mysterious man's dark energy poisons your pure one.

touya narrows his gaze when they are locked onto your eyes, seeking some sort of understanding that the night is a moment of solace. it has your hands lowering the moment you see how dark one's shadows could be. this man's shadow is so dark you swore they would come to live and roam around the dark nights.

“you're… broken.”

your words made touya tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword as he lowered it. his blade is far from kissing your skin any longer as he allowed the moon along with the starts to bask in a sense of familiar comfort.

“you’re broken as well.”

ᝰ TAGS . . . @w1nterelle @hyoismbbg @angeliicheartt @kyoghurts @heartkaji @skiiyoomin @choccorin @phtmmsqrde @harleys1nhawaii @va-3

©SENEON 2024 .𖥔 ݁ ( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS. do not ever repost, alter, and translate my work in any way.