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#crack: the Gods and Goddess really do fuck everything up
charnelhouse · 2 years
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baby, it's violence
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(gif by @nightofthecreeps)
Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader, Marc Spector x F!Reader Wordcount: 7.2K Warnings: Explicit AF. Rough smut. Serious GORE. Oral. Anal. Pain Kink. Semi-public sex. naughty vibes in cathedrals. Mental health strugs. Face-sitting. Choking. Summary: It’s not alright. You will never be alright again and how are you supposed to tell him that? That you had died and were then reborn and it had marked you in a way that felt permanent. Marc understood. Marc remembered and that’s why Marc is who he is for you. Your shared trauma circulates between you like a throbbing vein that redirects to a single heart. Steven is outside of it. A/N: I don't know any spoilers for future episodes so all of this is just my imagination. Title from Grimes’s Violence.
There’s a darkness in you.
So. Fucking. What.
You’re on the wrong side of the law most days. You’re stealing, looting, killing the people you’re told to - forced to (even if they deserve it, which they do). It's not on you. It's on them.
Bastet is your companion. She is your Goddess. She also shares Khonshu’s sense of Old Testament justice and that kind of violence can make anyone crack eventually.
A person who starts a fatal fire gets burned alive. A man who blinds a woman with acid because she refused him receives a nice eye-gouging. You can still feel it on your fingers even if you’ve washed your hands thirty times.
Then there is Marc. Then there is Steven. Then there is all the ancient magic twining each of you together like some fucked up family entity.
Tune in at 9 for How I Met My Avatar.
It’s possibly wrong to be fucking both of them, but there is no one else who understands. There is no one else and you’re so lonely. You feel like you’re drowning on dry land. It’s like having constant heartburn and acid reflux and you were grateful that it wasn’t just you who became an avatar for a pissed-off God. You are grateful that Marc had been there with you. Both of you dying and bleeding out in that barren chamber at the center of the tomb. He had looked at you as it happened, his fingers curling weakly around your wrist and you had wondered if you both were headed for the same place - if there was a place at all or if you’d have your hearts weighed or if -
Your memory blanks out at that point. There had been an explosion of white-hot light and then you felt everything at once.
***
It’s Steven’s gentle concern that unnerves you. His soft hands that should be rough with callouses. There are hideous feelings inside your chest, which you can’t just bury. The desire for blood as you adapt into a weapon to be yielded. The weight of Bast’s previous avatars and thousands upon thousands of years since the creation of the Gods themselves.
Steven brings you to Russell Square park to get you out of your head, which is terribly ironic. The trees are effulgent. They are dusted golden as the sun streams through the dense leaves. You watch the shrubs and the hedges dotted with white blooms, expecting something to burst out of them. Steven has you sit in front of a fountain, the milky froth from the water spraying upward as it hits the stone ground with a continuous thwap.
“Isn’t this lovely?” He asks with his hand wrapped firmly around yours. His stare weighs heavy on your profile. His anxiousness burns the side of your nose.
“It’s nice,” you offer, which he seems to take as a victory.
“We could go grab a drink? That sounds good, yeah? One of those really fancy cocktails you like…you know with the smoke?”
You chuckle. Genuinely. “You want to get me drunk so I’ll be easy, huh?”
His expression immediately dissolves into something frantic - offended. “Never.” Except it comes out like neva-a and the whole thing just makes him that much more endearing to you.
The issue is that he cares too much. He holds your hair back when Bast doesn’t like the food you eat. None of those greasy burgers, girl. They taste like oil and they clog the flow of our blood.
You don’t point out that she seems fond of hot Cheetos because there is no arguing with an entity as old as time.
You cradle the toilet bowl as you empty your guts. The bile curdles sour in your throat and rubs it raw. Steve simply strokes your shoulders and the curve of your spine. He makes these soft, mouth sounds to ease your discomfort.
“You’re alright,” he tells you. “You’re alright, darling.”
It’s not alright. You will never be alright again and how are you supposed to tell him that? That you had died and were then reborn and it had marked you in a way that felt permanent. This is a husk. This is not my body. This is not my head. Marc understood. Marc remembered and that’s why Marc is who he is for you. Your shared trauma circulates between you like a throbbing vein that redirects to a single heart.
Steven is outside of it. Steven knows only sensation and occasional memory from that time in the tomb. He thought them nightmares- not real and thus not able to harm him.
But - Steven is kind. Perhaps you needed that in order to recall exactly why you’d wanted to stay in this world to begin with. Why you had been so ready to let Bast possess you and had run headfirst towards that white light instead of retreating.
You do occasionally regret it. It’s usually when you are spitting out teeth because a fight has gone south. It’s the resentment and exhaustion that spoil your mood. They shake your foundation until the feelings inevitably fade on their own.
The teeth always grow back. You live.
It’s not like you can die.
***
Once it’s all out in the open it’s a bit easier to manage. You don’t have to keep Steven in the dark because he’s finally put it all together. You don’t have to constantly assure him that he is, in fact, not insane. You do feel a bit bad when you’re stuck in the middle of a fight and Marc’s expression transitions from blood-thirsty to terrified and his posture goes all pinched because Steven has somehow taken over once again. It is you who has to be the one to scream at him to release control and let Marc handle it.
You make it up to him though.
“You know I’m just trying to protect you,” you croon as you straddle Steven’s lap. You grasp the hinges of his jaw and lick into his mouth. His fingers are digging into the flesh of your ass. He is giving you more each day. Can I touch here? Can I lick you here? Can I put it there?
“It’s protecting us, yeah?” His lids are so heavy, his eyes lead-dark and you shove yourself down, grinding against the ridge of his cock until his brows knit together and he gasps oh fuck. He is so easy. The easiest thing you have ever done because he’s utterly desperate for affection. He nudges into your palm like a puppy.
“Yeah,” you smile into his kiss. You feel him circle the base of his cock, his knuckles dragging through the wet-hot opening of your pussy.
“Up, please,” he murmurs. You rise on your knees. You listen to him just like you listen to Marc in the bedroom. It is only the flavor that is different because he is soft padding while Marc is gravel. Marc has you crawl while Steve requests you rise or fall with urgent pleading.
You thread your fingers through his mass of rich curls. You tug them lazily, which makes his throat arch. You can feel it as he traces the head of his cock through the seam of your folds - nudging against your entrance as he holds it and waits - the very air electric with impatience. You stare down at him, mirthful and mischievous. His expression devolves into something closer to Marc’s when he’s had enough of your teasing. Agitated. Wild.
“Please,” His teeth are clenched. His brows knitted together in frustration.
“Please what?” He’s trembling now. Bursting at the seams. It’s like he doesn’t know what he wants or doesn’t know how to ask and you’re just being cruel. His eyes fall on the mirror behind your shoulder for a second or two. It must be Marc heckling him or voicing his very unwanted opinion because suddenly a sharp, ugly noise rumbles from the back of Steven’s throat and he squeezes your waist fiercely.
“Sit on it,” he growls with real grit. There’s the edge of barely trapped restraint behind his teeth. “Would you?” he adds quickly because he is still not ready to take and that’s the beauty of your entire relationship with Steven. The question. The caution. The will you…won’t you…is this alright?
You want to taunt him. You want to slap his shoulder, feigning outrage. Steven. So bossy.
You don't get the chance to.
He grabs your hips and forces you down hard. It splits you in two. The size of him is always a shock as his cock kisses the furthest depth inside your core.
“Fuck,” he marvels. “Fucking hell.”
He plants his feet and hammers upward, punching a squeak from you that pleases him. He sits up so he can latch his generous mouth to the peaks of your tits, he fills his hands with them - testing the weight, kneading the flesh as he circles your nipples with his tongue. His teeth scrape the sensitive skin and your nails dig into his skull. There is Bast vibrating through the dense tissue of your scattered thoughts:
You could pop his head like a grape. It would be beautiful.
You’re not so sure. First of all, you don’t want to. Second of all, you doubt Khonshu would allow it.
“That feel good, yeah?” Steven mumbles against your nipple, his question punctuated by a very solid thrust that nearly makes you collapse forward.
“Yes, Steven,” you reply because it does. Warmth is pulsing between your legs. It’s making your lower muscles bear down, crashing into every lift of his hips.
Steven draws back enough to watch you take it, his big somber eyes glued to the place where his soaked length continuously disappears up inside the clutch of your sex. He has grown more handsome since everything was laid out on the table. His color is high - rosy sweeps painting his cheekbones. He pierces you with every drive upward. His lower lip is pulled white between his teeth as he concentrates.
I want to make it good. I want to make it so good for you, love.
He thinks he’s in charge until he’s not. You flatten your palms across his chest and force him onto his back. His pillows fall somewhere to the side. His sheets are coming off. “Hold onto the headboard,” you implore and he does immediately, fingers curling around the iron frame. You quicken your pace, circling your pelvis and rocking down on the stiff unyielding length of his cock. You build a pace that shocks him, the mattress squeaking to the point it might tear on its metal springs. You grasp his hand and shove it against your clit which is swollen and needy. He uses his thumb just as you’ve taught him, pushing down and around until you’re the one moaning like a cat in heat. Your orgasm breaks like a wave to shore, crashing and spreading like seafoam throughout the bowl of your hips. Heat. Heat. You tighten and release - tighten and release - and Steven follows - a guttural, low noise ripping from his lungs. He’s shaking, his curls wet with sweat and smeared across his broad forehead.
Afterward, when he has long since reached equilibrium and his body has relaxed, he cradles your cheeks between his hands.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he confesses and it scares you. He is so unafraid to be utterly stripped in your presence. He gives his admiration - his desire with earnestness. It is like a live flame searing his features. His raw feelings are blunt and loud.
You are nervous for him - for his mind that is already on vulnerable ground. You are worried for yourself and then Bast bubbles and swells in your head. She’s in a better mood after the sex. Goddess of pleasure and all.
I still think you should remove his head.
***
Another fight takes them outside London and into Durham. Another cult of wrongdoers who are each met with the crescent blade jammed up through their chins. It’s not an easy fight and it takes everything in Marc not to make a scene when you’re cleaved through the front. Your entire waist is nearly split in a red-spitting arc. It’s a horrific injury and one that would have anyone instantly dead.
Instead, you grunt and clamp your palms over the wound to keep everything inside. He wants to run to you. He wants to scream. But he can’t. Khonshu holds him back to finish the job on the last weeping piece of shit bishop who did things he'd rather not think about.
Bast will help her. Bast will pull her flesh together as I do yours.
A muscle in Marc’s jaw pops. It threatens to snap. His fear becomes rage as he twists the bishop’s neck with a sound that echoes through the entirety of Durham Cathedral. He turns back around to find you stumbling down the nave, past the pews, and toward him. There is red staining your grey, gauzy suit, though you are no longer bent completely over. Gradually, you begin to stand up straighter. Your expression untwists as the sting lessens. Your stride becomes less stilted and more controlled.
Marc breathes a sigh of relief. His chest expands and he removes the mask portion of his suit so he can look at you and not through the veil of Khonshu’s magic.
He blinks away the haze, his eyes exploring the vastness of Durham. He ignores the crumpled corpses on the floor. He likes the place’s hardiness. The Norman Architecture that makes it so robust. The fat columns carved with chevrons and zigzags. Astral chapels with groined vaults. There’s the natural beauty of the River Wear and its steep banks that had once been utilized as a method of defense against Viking raids. There is history here - images and scents he can conjure. Still - it is not nearly as old as Khonshu or the relics he has pulled from Egypt. Not even close to those tombs.
The temples he knows are ancient. They are beyond even his concept of time.
He glances up at the peak of the altar. The stained glass of the rose window is dimmed and muddled as evening swallows the last of the sun. These places of worship have become jeweled boxes to him. Prized golden eggs. His synagogue had its own loveliness, but not the glitz or fuss of so many other churches and cathedrals. They’re works of art - monoliths of another time and yet Khonshu’s thoughts tear through his own: These are modern temples. These smell new.
Yes, Marc agrees even though it’s nearly a thousand years old. They’re just structures. What is religion when a God is buried between his ribs?
The jumble in his head is interrupted when you reach the altar. He can feel how prickly you are even when you aren’t touching him.
“I’m fine,” you hiss. The blood has slowed its drip like a screwed tight spigot.
“I didn’t ask.”
“I can feel it, Marc. You’re staring at me like I’m going to keel over.”
She is right. You are too soft.
He narrows his eyes at you. “Why are you being difficult?”
You ignore him, averting your glare to the stained glass above his head. There’s tension in the way you’re holding yourself. It’s not pain though. He steps toward you, filling up the space between them. His face is beaded in sweat, his hair damp and messy. What do you need? Is it to feel something that isn’t bruised kidneys or a stab wound?
This is how it goes after a fight. Their bodies are humming with adrenaline and magic and they need somewhere to funnel it. He regards you quietly as you stare anywhere but at his face. Your beauty is even more apparent under the shadows and the strike of the moon through stained glass.
There is also the fact that, as avatars, sensations can be dulled. It feels like nothing can penetrate your surface. You need something stronger.
“We should go,” you finally suggest, as you draw away from him. You make it four - five steps before he tells you to stop. You shoot him a puzzled look.
He stalks forward, crowding you against one of those giant carved pillars. You lift your chin, defiant even though he’s got the full weight of his body pinning you to the curved stone. “I like it better when you’re helpless,” He drags his knuckles over the hump of your cheek. It’s kind of a lie. He likes you in any form. “Fuck - it gets me so damn hard when you act sweet for me - when you’re docile as a kitten and not so - angry.”
“Really? How boring,” Your voice hitches. They’re playing this game tonight. He’ll make you submit and you’ll do it without protest because it’s a relief to give him control.
“Yes,” he hums, leaning forward to press his mouth to your jaw and then the length of your throat. “I want you to be good for me.” He cups you between your legs, thumb rubbing over the crotch of your suit. “How many fingers of mine will you take tonight?”
Your pupils dilate. You clutch at his arms, seemingly struck dumb. He digs his thumb deeper. “How many?”
Your lips part around a whimper. “As many as you want to give me.”
He shivers at that - his entire body shrieking with affection and desire for you and the molten, wet comfort of your cunt. He kicks your foot out to spread your legs wide. His glove disappears so that he can slide his warm, real flesh underneath the band of your pants. “Open up, then,” he urges.
***
Steven tries his best to protect you. You have to admit that his strange pseudo-tuxedo outfit is a lot sexier than it should be. He doesn’t have the same technique as Marc, but he’s getting better. Kind of.
He is strong and can throw a punch…so there’s that.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs with the most hangdog expression.
“For?”
He’s sitting on the edge of his bathtub. His features are weary and his skin is grey and pallid. There are huge circles under his eyes. Purple as a bruise.
You hover over him, searching his body for any injuries even though you know the damn drill. There will be nothing. There will only be clean, healed skin. Still - you fret. You fret because he frets over you and it only seems fair.
“I messed that up.”
He did. He is an annoying little insect that needs to be squashed.
“It’s okay,” you assure him even though you will have to track down the amulet that got snatched and lost down a sewer.
He stops you, putting his hand on your wrist. You meet his gaze, startled. It is in these moments that you want to ask him if he loves you. It’s etched in the way he stares. The worship. The genuine wonder that he isn’t too proud to hide. His hands are slick with someone else’s blood as he reaches up and cradles your face. He shakes you gently. Bring me back to myself. Please. Tell me something. Tell me how it happened. How it all started.
But you don’t want to talk about that story. You don’t want to yet again go into detail about how Marc and you lay dying and became willing vessels to Bastet and Khonshu. The bargain. The deal.
Instead, you go to your knees and undo his pants. His eyes widen - the demands he had seemingly forgotten. He is always shocked that you’re willing to do this - that you actually enjoy giving him, of all people, pleasure.
It doesn’t take long. His lashes flutter and his nostrils flare as he watches you take him to the back of your throat. You swallow his come, cheeks hollowing as you drink each lash and spurt of seed. You are greedy for it.
***
Marc grunts when you maneuver your fingertips against the wound to keep it open. He delivers a silent request to Khonshu. Can you not heal me for an hour?
I do not understand you, mortals.
I need this. I need exactly this. The throbbing pressure of the injury - the flavor of mortality. Both of them have felt death and as a result, the feeling has come to haunt them. They need everything in surround sound. They need hard sex. They need agony.
“Fuck,” Marc rasps. “Sit on my face”
You flash him a grin and it is white and smooth as one of his crescent blades. You turn around, straddling his face so you're staring at his feet. You lick your thumb and scrape it over the broken skin in the muscle of his calve. His cracked ribs shift between your thighs and his lap bucks.
“Give me your cunt,” he growls, slapping your leg. It is just out of reach, the sweet musk of your sex hovering above his mouth. You drop your hips to meet it and he hums in appreciation. He'd call you a good girl if his mouth wasn't busy.
He eats you messily. His tongue wriggling inside you as his nose prods into thin tissue above it. “That’s my girl,” he hums in between lapping. He suckles and nips as you circle the cradle of your pelvis above his face. You strike your nails over his skin until it burns. His cock is standing straight - full of blood and in need of attention, but you restrain yourself. You prod a stab wound beneath his belly button that makes a feral, broken noise slip from him.
He is frantic. He is out of control. He shoves you forward a little so he can sink two of his fingers inside your pussy. You're on the very brink of a climax - walls flexing around his knuckles. The continuous push of more liquid that paints his chin. His stubble is burning the silky inner skin of your thighs and he hopes it leaves a mark for once.
His hips keep lifting - his impatience reaching a breaking point.
"Aw," you croon. "Do you need attention?"
You're such a bitch sometimes. He loves it.
You relent, wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him one firm harsh stroke that makes him choke on his own spit. It's just your dry palm, which makes the gesture hurts in a way he dies for - in a way that forces pre-spend to dribble from him.
"Fuck, baby," He hears you say. You continue to rock down on his face - on his fingers that he's thrusting inside you with a crude, constant squelch. "Let me use my mouth."
You drop your head, placing the wet tip of your tongue to the head of his cock and circling it. It's embarrassing how effective it is.
His body goes rigid and the blooming pressure in his abdomen releases. He comes and comes as he continues to devour you. It is as if he could swallow every organ by licking your cunt.
Everything inside you is mine. The thought shines bright inside his head. Let me collect your parts and pieces. Hide each in a Canopic jar for safekeeping. He hopes you feel the same.
He smirks as you moan with delight, licking his spend from your fingertips.
***
Moon Knight’s suit smells like papyrus and plume thistle and chamomile. But there is also the stench of stale air from a pyramid tomb.
“You smell like time,” you had told him once while you were drunk and sad and still not used to the screaming cyst of a goddess inside your skull.
“Time?” Marc frowned, his dark curls drooping over his forehead.
“In the suit - smells old - smells like mummies.”
“Have you ever smelled a mummy?”
“No, but I bet that’s what one smells like.”
Now - they were long past that period. There weren't many moments of idle drunkenness and playful banter. Marc was harder on you just as you were with him because it’s what they needed. Steven is different. You treat Steven like something precious, which Marc only finds annoying when it gets in his way.
You killed his fucking fish!
It was an accident.
Get a new one! He’s already fragile enough!
***
It is the best of both worlds really. You have that soft-sweet sex with Steven and then the feral fucking with Marc.
You obey Marc, especially in that suit. You get on your knees and crawl toward him.
“That mouth of yours needs fucking,” Marc hisses through that blank, sightless mask and you lift your chin and tell him: make me.
It's grueling and a bit violent and you still thank him afterward because it feels so good.
“You let him hurt you?” Steven asks as he traces the open sea of your skin where all the marks have disappeared as soon as they’d come. You don’t know how to explain it to him. How could you? There is a living goddess filling up your bones - rippling through your tissue and veins. It is not enough to be coddled and held and stroked. By him - yes. By Marc - you need the rest of it.
He wasn’t hurting you. Not really.
“It’s the whole avatar thing,” you try. “Sometimes you require more...stimulation. It - it can feel like you’re wrapped in plastic.”
Steven nods.
“I can feel it,” he reveals. “A bit. Just a bit. His thoughts - how Khonshu teases in my head. It’s like screaming through a downpour.”
“Yes,” you agree. “It is like that.”
The line between Steven and Marc is getting slimmer by the day. You’re not sure if Steven has the disposition to withstand Khonshu and his celestial bluntness.
It’s a sad thought.
Steven spreads his arms and you fall into him. You physically maneuver his hands to your hips and then the plump of your ass because he continues to be uncertain with you. “Do you want me to ride you, Steven?” You ask into his ill-fitting sweater. The wool scratches your cheek.
He inhales sharply. “Yes.”
They could make you come…holy fuck they could make you come and often. It was your connection. The weird fact that you shared each other's space. Khonshu and Bast tolerated the other’s existence while Steven, Marc, and you were straddling this mystical world where magic existed and souls were weighed.
Maybe - you weren’t that alone, after all. Maybe it didn’t matter.
***
Moon Knight descends upon the crowd surrounding you like a pale ghost. He is silent before he makes contact and then you can hear his weight. His solid form and preternatural strength as he tears through these criminals like meat.
Bast’s power staff sings in your hands - wanting more more more blood, but you are enthralled by Marc as Moon Knight. There are decapitated heads, broken bones, hearts tugged from chests. Blood spurting up and outward like that fountain in Russel Square.
You were overwhelmed by the group. You put yourself at risk because you didn’t listen to him and you left his side and went your own way.
When the screaming fades out, he whirls around to face you.
You can’t gauge his reaction. There is only the tense set of his shoulders and the eerie phosphorescent glow from the eye holes in his mask. The silence sings between you both. It fattens and swells and you should be dead, but you are not. You can’t die, but Marc is the last person to test it.
He stalks toward you.
His pace is always deliberate - steady and intimidating. You don’t retreat, you let him brush up right against you. He is vibrating with power. The blades at the center of his armor are wet with blood. He looms like a wall of muscle. The surface of him has the same quality as a statue - marbled and stiff. You want to throw yourself at him. He’s obviously waiting for something.
Your place your palms on his chest and leave apple-red handprints. So much blood. Their whole relationship is blood. He lifts his arms slowly and grasps the sides of your face. He tilts it underneath the moonlight. The wind shakes through the bouquets of foliage and trimmed hedges. There is the sweet scent of planted jasmine. The trees creak. The London traffic is far away - a rumbling buzz of nightlife.
“Are you going to beg me for it?” His tone is cold - burning cold though you know that underneath that suit is warmth - is a fever - is viscera and his pumping heart. His golden skin is always like sunbaked sand. You could rest your cheek upon it like a lizard.
You blink up at him, playing dumb. Your hands still jerk and twitch from the earlier fight - ready to wrap around the throat of another bony jackal should it burst between you.
Not your hands. Not your body. Not anymore.
Marc moves even closer until you are crushed as one. When you look up, you cannot see past his hood and mask. His yellow-white eyes illuminate your upturned face. He has blotted out the stars - the blue velvet galaxy. He takes the shape of the moon as his thumb rasps across your cheek. Beg. He demands without speaking. Beg me. Prostrate yourself.
You want it, but Bast doesn’t want to bend to him this time around.
He’ll give in eventually, little one…he will be unable to control himself. The weakness of his sex.
If only it were so easy. You are one screaming, raw nerve. You need him to shatter you into a thousand pieces. You are so torn up already - a cracked mirror that needs a final kick. Let me disappear into tiny diamond bits.
He drops his head lower, his mask rubbing across your jaw before he pulls back to regard you coolly. “Do you want it like before?”
See. I am never wrong.
You nod, already curling your fingers into his suit. You’re not pleading. You are just moving your head. The smell of iron wafts from those gleaming moon-shaped blades.
Those weapons are a bit on the nose don’t you think?
You’d better keep that to yourself before Khonshu decides to punish you.
Is that a promise?
“You like it when I hurt you with my cock.” he states, his tone uncharacteristically tender. His wrapped knuckles graze your lower lip and then your chin where he pinches the flesh to keep your head still. Your stomach twists up all the same. You feel empty without him. Yes. Yes. Yes. Just like back in Egypt and that first time - that room and tiled floor as you bent me over in front of the mirror -
“I do,” It’s the only thing that works. The fucking. It makes the voice go away for a bit. It makes you feel something when everything else is like squirming through smoke. You need it so rough it causes your teeth to click in your mouth. You need it everywhere. Every orifice. You need the pain of it and so does he.
That longing leads you to Moon Knight fucking you against the alleyway wall. There is trash. There is the promise of rain. The Gods are quiet for you both as Marc shears through your body - impaling you on a length that feels too big. He fills you to the brim. He uses you. His hoarse, vicious grunts in your ear.
His weight pins you to the brick as the head of his cock batters against your womb without respite. Take it take it take it. I know you can. I know. I know.
“Come for me,” he growls. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”
Your cunt flutters in response, tightening up before relaxing. Your heart is in your mouth. It is far from over, leading you through two more orgasms before he finishes. When he does, a sound closer to a howl is ripped from his throat - muffled and low. You milk him dry - palms cupping the hood of his cape, holding tight to a form that feels more mystical than mortal. Your back continues to scrape against the cement and the brick as each slowing thrust juts you upward. Your knees are hitched over his waist. His suit rasps the inner skin of your knees.
You tighten your embrace around him. Gentler and sweeter. His grip on you loosens. He pets your shoulders and arms and bare waist, his touch full of fondness.
***
Marc is trying to plug his fingers into too many holes at once. His brain is like swiss cheese. He hates it - trying to cover the gaps in this entire other life that is Steven and everything else. His identity is sliced thin and copious as lunch meat.
He is grateful for you in that regard. You calm Steven’s nerves - literally dragging him back from the edge of a panic attack or breakdown every time he’s conscious.
Marc thanks you with fucking, which is what they seem to be the best at next to killing things.
He remembers the first time with you. The hellscape they’d found themselves in. It had been right after the first fight as Avatars. Both of them were so high off the adrenaline that he’d fucked you into the rough tile floor of a rented room in the middle of Egypt. The heat was near unbearable as he slid between your thighs and shoved his cock into you. No condom. No thoughts beyond your tight pussy and swollen mouth. The sweat from his curls dripped onto your face and you licked them away. Eyes wide and too bright and bleeding out your own God.
What happened? What are we now?
Each harsh thrust of his cock made your tits bounce. Your nails carved red streaks down the muscles of his back.
“Harder,” you begged him, hitching your knees higher over his waist. He slammed into you just as you asked. He angled downward until his dick was pounding against the furthest part of your body. Your cunt squelched with each stroke. Your nipples grazed his chest and he still wanted to be closer. He grabbed the back of your head, forcing it up in order to crash their mouths together.
“Not enough,” you sobbed into his kiss. His breath was your breath. His heart was hammering in his throat. He felt drunk. High. He was vibrating with so much energy that he could barely speak. He sat back on his heels and threw your ankles over his shoulder so he could fuck you that way - he was punishing - unrelenting -
Still - you were unsatisfied.
“I want you everywhere,” you demanded. “Every part of me.”
“You sure?” He was able to form that question - able to pause despite the curtain of lust that was crowding out anything that wasn't your pussy.
“Yes,” you hissed. “Please, Marc.”
He relented. He flipped you over onto your hands and knees, his touch stroking down the line of your spine and curve of your waist. Your eyes found his in the decorative mirror of their now destroyed room. He wanted to see your face as he fucked you.
He glanced down, spreading your ass, spitting what saliva he had left into the puckered hole that blinked and flexed above your gaping cunt. It had been wrong. He’d never have done it that way with anyone else. It’s not something you can just do without any preparation, but your body was no longer your body entirely. It was suddenly very capable - easily stretched and maneuvered and molded.
He tried to be careful as he entered you. The head of his cock was red and shiny from your pussy. His shaft throbbed, unbearably hard. He pushed inside inch by inch and you blossomed to take it. “Fuck,” you gasped as he burrowed deeper, as he filled you. Your fist came down, cracking the floor. “Don’t stop.”
He watched with rapt attention as that tight ring of muscle swallowed him.
He sunk to the hilt until his groin met your thighs, your body arching with the weight of him stretching you open. You were a mess of mewling girlish whimpers. He eased out just enough so that the tip caught on the rim of your hole before driving forward with a wet sound.
You choked - the channel of your ass clenching with the force of it. “So good,” you stammered as you dropped onto your forearms.
“You like it when I fuck your ass?” He cracked his hand across the cheek and then kneaded the flesh until it had to have ached. You didn’t even wince. Instead, you shoved yourself back against him - meeting him stroke for stroke. Your fingers made divots in the tile floor.
Marc glanced up at the mirror and, for a moment, swore that his face was not his face, but something new - screwed up in confusion and shock and maybe awe. Khonshu was silent. He seemed to blend into a grey mass at the back of his brain, which worked for him. That moment felt like the only time his head wasn’t breaking up into so many voices it became white noise.
Marc wrapped his arm around your tits and hauled you back against his chest. His hips snapped up against your ass - the backs of your thighs. The wet flesh smacked into a crescendo of thwap thwap thwap.
“Like that?” he grunted into your ear, his hand grasping your throat to hold it stiff and at attention. He could see tears sliding down the corner of your eyes, your lips parted around a choked-off scream. Every spear of his cock had left you mute, punching deep and splitting you in half. “C’mon, pretty baby. Tell me this is what you wanted? Opening your ass up on my cock?”
You nodded - a wet noise behind your teeth.
When he slipped his fingers over your clit, you came like a fountain. The tiny nub was swollen and rubbed raw from how long they’d been going at it. He teased you further, dragging his thumb down the cleft of your soaked cunt. Your body wound taut and knotted with tension as he pounded you. There were bits of sand stinging his knees. Your breathing became clipped and panicked and Marc Marc Marc please -
He felt you go rigid with your second climax. Your ass practically strangling his cock when you clenched up. It was enough for him, too because his own orgasm slammed into him with a blunt violence. It expanded in his groin until it unfurled completely, filling your ass with lash after lash of seed. You crumpled forward and he followed - his face crashing into your shoulder blade. He couldn’t catch his breath - he couldn’t feel his body. He felt very far away and so he wrapped himself protectively around the curve of your shaking form. Their skin was slippery with sweat. Sticky with come.
Gradually the world came crawling back to him. The billow of gauzy curtains in the window. The scent of the open-air market outside: coriander, bay leaves, cinnamon, dill, and mint. Roasted salty nuts. Orange-blossom syrup.
He touched your cheek, gently forcing you to look at him. Out of the haze, he was suddenly worried that he’d been too rough - that he’d been possessed by a power greater than himself. He had wanted to burn alive - twist up in pain and feel real heat and the wet clutch of your sex and he had been unable to tame it. What the fuck was wrong with him?
You are a small mortal with a living God inside you. It is natural to crave too much.
He ignored the voice, his fingers trembling as they touched you. “Are you okay?”
Your lips quirked and you stretched out against him. The image of a cat in the sun. “Harder next time.”
***
It isn’t always rough with Marc.
He has his quieter moments - his softer moments though you believe that even when he’s being stern it’s still all for your benefit. Your protection.
After the first time, he’d fucked you in that room in Egypt, he’d brought you ful medames with fried eggs. Kofta. He hand-fed you basbousa and licked the tang of honey and lemon from the cup of your mouth.
***
At some point, the barriers between Steven and Marc overlap further. The lines warp. It is not strict gentleness with Steven anymore. He could feel it, the genuine warmth in his chest and groin when you killed something or someone in front of him. The way blood dripped from your fingers made him tremble with a hunger that scared him. He no longer felt disgusted at the gore of their nightly rituals.
He was seeing more of Marc’s sex with you. More images. More moments of intrusion where he’d become a third-party guest. Sometimes he’d even manage to take over while Marc was fucking you.
He’d be mid-thrust or with his tongue between your legs and he’d draw back and say:
Just - um - by the way it’s Steven now.
I know it’s you, Steven. I know the difference.
You’d stare at him with that smooth amusement. Your indulgence reserved only for him. It was Marc who got your reality. He got your vulnerability. You treated Marc like he was something you could toss against a wall again and again and it wouldn’t crack. It would withstand your ugliness and pain. Steven sometimes wanted you to give that to him.
“I want all of you. I want everything,” Steven demanded, pressing adoration into your skin with his mouth, his teeth scraping down the curve of your tit. “You’d give it to me, yeah? I can handle it.”
“You want me to be mean to you?”
“You’re mean to Marc,” he pointed out. “You fall apart with Marc.”
With Marc. With Marc.
The sex with Marc is unhinged. He knows that. It straddles the line between dangerous and demented. Steven catches glimpses of Marc shoving his cock in you as he jams his fingers in your mouth, muttering: fucking Christ - you like being stuffed everywhere don’t you? You want it in your ass again?
You had decidedly not done that sort of thing with Steven.
You tap his nose, a single perfectly shaped brow lifted. “It's just what we do, Grant.”
Yes - her relationship with Marc had begun on violent terms. He could remember in the tiniest of flashes - in memories he couldn’t quite make out. You had hammered out the rest for him as they slept around each other in the warm dark of his loft. You and Marc had been in Egypt, both trembling and crusty with dried blood. Both newly reborn and still in the yolks of Khonshu and Bastet's afterbirth. They’d served them unconditionally, their bodies led like puppets to kill and protect.
“The first time we fucked,” you recalled. “It - well it was more of a fight to be honest.”
He didn’t entirely want you to be honest. Steven still felt that surge of jealousy that what you did with Marc was not what you did with him.
If Steven really tried, he could pull a shard of that memory to the surface. You with tears in your eyes and Marc behind you, holding you up as he fucked you and you could barely get the words out - yes harder harder harder -
Marc felt little pity for Steven in that regard. He’d be that second voice, the distorted blur of his figure in a mirror as he told him:
You get her love don’t you? You get her care and her gentle fucking hands. You get that. She needs something else from me.
It is fury with them, too. It is blood-hot. Bullets. Explosions. Marc and you volley one crude thing back to the other.
You like it when I leave your cunt aching, baby?
You want me to keep your come inside me, Spector?
You know what will happen if you don’t.
Choke me.
You’re so big, Marc. I can’t stop feeling you. You split me in half.
Steve still goes red when he is privy to these moments. He stammers through them, eyes trying to find any other point in the room that isn't your pretty face.
***
He comes to with you on your knees for him. They’re in Marc’s storage room.
The light is pale and softer than before. It seems artificial, but there is no source. It trails like moonlight. It spins cornsilk as it drips like wax over your bare back. You crawl across the floor - naked. Your ass lifted as an offering to him. The shiny image of your cunt peeking between your spread thighs and he swallows because he can see it parted and drooling. It is leaking pleasure and he wonders if Marc has already had you tonight. There’s that high glow emanating from your skin when you’ve been made to come. He knows it like he knows everything about you: every vein and ticklish spot. every scar. every sensitive patch of flesh.
“I could make you happy.”
“Could you? How?”
“If you share with me what makes you sad. If you tell me what you tell Marc.”
"And that's what will make me happy?"
"No, darling. It's so that we can avoid everything that upsets you, yeah?"
He glances down at himself. He is in the suit that Marc hates, but it fits him like a glove. You toss your head, making eye contact with him over your shoulder.
“Hi baby.” Your voice is full of warmth and the expression is so lovely that it makes his chest balloon outward. It mystifies him. The endearments. The intimacy of kind words shared between the two of them.
“Hello you,” he replies, completely glossing over the fact that you're as naked as the day you were born. This happens a lot though. He comes to in a lot of these special situations. He shifts on his feet. His eyes trail over the clutter that surrounds them.
Marc’s room is packed with loot. There is the glimmer of dust-sprinkled uncut gems in opened boxes. Cash. Guns. Golden trinkets. Everything glints in the shadowed corners of the room.
“What - what are we doing here?” He’s got the mask on. His mouth muffled against the fabric. His forearms are white as chalk.
“This was her idea,” Marc declares, his form clear in the reflection across from Steven. Same suit, but Marc carries himself differently. There is an arrogance in his shoulders. His tone harsh just like everything about him. Steven can almost make out the shape of a smirk beneath the cloth.
“You’re going to fuck me, Steven,” you say plainly as you lean forward on your elbows. Your ass spread for him. Your pussy. He swallows as his cock twitches. “Marc gets to watch.”
“Oh,” He doesn’t really know what else to say. He doesn’t really know what this is. He can feel Marc’s scrutiny on him. It’s heavy and crushing.
“You want to feel what Marc feels, don’t you? He’ll tell you - show you.” Your voice is so throaty, drawing him in. He moves forward before it even registers and then he is there behind you. He is reaching for your face and you allow it, turning and rising up on your knees.
“Yes,” he replies as he rucks his mask above his nose. He bends at the waist, grasping your chin in order to kiss you. The pressure he shoves behind it is fierce. It is teeth and tongue. He understands that they’re about to cross a line. This is what he's asked for. This is what you are willing to give him. Marc seemingly agrees, though the man's expression in the reflective glass is dubious. Steven will prove that he's capable. He'll prove his worth, which is a battle he's been fighting since he can't even remember.
Desperate to be seen. Desperate to be felt. Desperate to matter.
I'm here. I'm here. I'm right here.
"Steven," you breathe against his lips - your hands pulling at the back of his jacket. "Steven - let us show you."
He can hear Marc's rugged timbre coaxing him. A tickle at the base of his brain.
He knows how it will have to be and so he yields, allowing Marc's words to drift in and hit their target. Steven listens intently and his touch reflects every directive. They cobweb together - meld and morph into a whole. They take you apart - carve you open and let you break.
6K notes · View notes
eagerbby · 2 years
Text
ᴀɴ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ | ᴇᴍ
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pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader
synopsis| A quickie turns into crushing feelings and mounting doubt; the realization that sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t feel so great.
an| the synopsis is bullshit, I really don’t have an explanation for this. just a quick little piece I needed to remove from my head. briefly edited so ignore any mistakes.
warnings| 3K, protected sex, drug use, angst, wandering hands, lack of communication
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I dumped my boyfriend.
It all started with that one sentence. Eddie could tell you were in a mood as soon as he pulled into the deserted parking lot. You were leaning against the trunk of your car, bare legs crossed at your frill covered ankles, the hem of your skirt trembling in the early autumn breeze. 
You gave him a smile as he hopped out the van, eyes twinkling under the candescent moon beam that burst free from the dying leaves over head. 
"Hey there, handsome." You offered him a wink as he stepped in front of you, ringed fingers clasping tightly to the keys tucked against his palm.
"Hey, yourself." You looked so beautiful; always so beautiful. It should be illegal.
"Got the goods?" 
Of course he did, that's the whole reason he was there and yet he still nodded his head, curls shaking vigorously around his shoulders, before opening the back door of his van and ushering you inside. 
That was an hour ago- and oh how much an hour can change things.
"Oh, fuck, Eddie." You toss your head back as you work your hips, nails digging into the leather of the side behind him. 
Eddie's holding onto your hips for dear life, scared if he lets go for one second he'll wake up and realize this has all just been a dream. 
Wouldn't be the first.
What was meant to be a simple drug deal, one of many that have happened between the two of you within the last couple months, had quickly escalated into a wet fucking dream. Eddie's wet dream; to be exact. 
"G-god, that thing you do with your hips is incredible." 
Eddie's trying his hardest to keep his eyes locked on you. One; because this will probably never happen again. Two; because you fuck like a demon. Or a goddess. Eddie can't differentiate which at the moment, not when you swivel you hips as you take all of his fat cock down to the base, ass cheeks making a hollow slap against his balls every time. 
It's incredible, really, that he can even breathe. He's pretty sure at some point he couldn't because his chest heaves with every sharp moan you pull from him, your sweet lips suckling against his ear lobe enough to make him cum right now. But he won't, not yet.
"Mm, you like that, pretty boy?" You ask doing it once again, but slower, more tantalizing. A teasing circle of your hips, clenching around the thick throb of him and Eddie nearly chokes on his tongue when he realizes you're spelling his name. 
"Oh my god. Don't stop, please, don't stop." He flushes a deep crimson when you chuckle against his jaw line, pressing fat wet kisses down towards his collarbone. 
"You're so easy, pretty boy. Taking everything I give you and still begging for more. Insatiable boy." You bite into the hot skin at the base of his neck, pulling a wanton moan from his kiss bruised lips. 
"Wanted you for so long, oh Jesus, e-every time you come to me you wear those short little skirts. Driving me nuts." His voice is thoroughly wreaked, cracking against every syllable, hiccupping when you start bouncing on him in earnest, your slick dripping down the seam of his balls.
"So easy." You coo into his ear before yanking his head back harshly. Eddie whimpers at the sudden pain, neck drawn taut as you stare down at him with dark eyes, pupils blown so wide he can barely see their beautiful color. 
"M' close." He manages to gasp out, hand fumbling between your sweaty bodies to rub hard fast circles on your swollen clit. Eddie watches your whole body quake at the added pleasure, falling against his chest as your riding falters slightly. 
"Gonna cum, pretty boy." You wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through his thick hair as you fuck him senselessly, chasing that wicked snap of heat that spreads across your skin as you cum hard and fast, barreling through your climax as it rips a startled moan from your throat. 
Your thighs shake as Eddie takes over, holding tight to your waist as he bucks himself into your spasming core, the sound of how fucking wet you are sending him over the edge only a minute after you. He fucks into as he shoots his hot spend into the condom you pulled from your bra, his arms wrapped tight around you as he holds you close. 
"Holy fuck." 
It's all he can say as he gains his breath back, whining as you pull off of him weakly, thighs still trembling as you sit down beside him and pull your underwear back up your legs.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." You giggle, grabbing the pack of cigarettes on the floor next to your socked foot as your eyes land on them. Eddie passes you his lighter with a soft smile, watches the way your cheeks hollow around an inhale. 
It was starting to set in as you sat there in silence beside him, head lolled back against the seat, eyes closed; he was simply a rebound. 
Which wouldn't have bothered him had he not had a crush on you since the beginning of time. You'd grown up together in Hawkins, not as friends, but as acquaintances. At the most you'd smile at him when you saw him and never bought in to the shit people said about him. When you came to him last semester he was shocked to say the least. But he was also excited. Excited at the thought of spending time alone with you, even if it was once a week when you needed to re-up. Those thirty minutes were usually his best of the whole week. 
But this changes things, like the way his crush was exploding to sharp jagged pieces at his feet. The creeping feeling of a thing called love crawling through his chest like vines, clinging to bone and tissue.
But he was just a rebound.
A sickening wave of insecurity washes over him and he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes, too scared to really look at you.
"Wa-was it…was it any good…for you?" 
You crack one eye open, thinking if you heard him correctly, head popping up in a quick whish as you sit up fully.
"Was it good for me?" You question back and when Eddie nods you laugh and shove his shoulder. "Fuck yes it was, are you serious?" 
The cheeriness in your voice has him biting at his lip to hide the full blown smile threatening to expose him. He blooms with pride, veins spreading thicker against the cage of his ribs. 
"My thighs are still shaking, actually." You observe out loud. Eddie lets out a sharp guffaw, snatching the joint out of the cigarette pack in the space between you two. 
"You're welcome." It has you rolling your eyes as you take the joint from his fingers, a cigarette still burning between your knuckles. 
"Why'd you ask that?" You ask as you pass the now lit joint back, catching the way his face drops infinitesimally. 
Eddie hides behind the curtain of his hair as he inhales that earthy smoke, holding it in his lungs a little longer than he normally would. 
"Uh, you just got quiet, wanted to make sure." It was a pathetic excuse to cover the even more pathetic truth. 
"Oh, yeah sorry about that. Usually takes a minute to come down from cumming that hard." You mash the cherry of your cigarette into the ashtray before leaning back against the seat, only this time you keep your eyes trained on him. 
"Do you usually cum that hard?" Eddie questions carefully. 
"Honestly, only with myself. No guy has ever made me cum, period." A pause as you raise your eyebrows and tip you head towards him. "Except you, I guess." 
Shit, that was a bigger ego boost than the time he played for twenty-five people at The Hideout, and this time he can’t stop the smile that stretches across his face. 
“Well, you know, I’m always here to help.” 
You giggle at this, busy finishing tying your shoe, Eddie wants to ask you to stay longer but he doesn’t say a word as you shove the little baggie filled with his newest batch of pot into your brown bag. 
“I gotta get home, but uh, thanks. I had fun.” 
Eddie rubs the back of his neck, looking up at you with big round eyes, his smile fading as the back door of the van creaks open. “I’ll see you around?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but it comes out as such, his voice breaking off at the end when you peek up at him as your rubber soles slap against the black cracking asphalt as you jump out the van. 
“Later, Eds.” You throw him a wink as you walk away and Eddie sits in his spot on the scratchy carpet of his van with his belt unbuckled and his shirt a wrinkled mess against his chest, listening to the soft hum of your car's motor as you drive off into the night. 
The vines crowding his lungs tighten with your absence, longing for you to come back.  
Eddie doesn’t hear from you again for a couple weeks, though he sees you around town hanging with your gaggle of fluffy haired friends, flocked around a couple jocks as they show off for them. He likes the fact that you pay no attention to their sad attempt, instead sitting on top of a picnic table smoking a cigarette, rolling your eyes every time your friends erupt into a chorus of giggles.
It’s not until almost a month later that you show up at his front door, banging incessantly until Eddie answers. 
“Uh, hey?” He watches you pace the brown carpet of the living room, hands shaking at your sides, face scrunched up in frustration. “Are you okay?” Eddie starts to walk towards you but you beat him to it, crossing the space between your bodies, eyes wild and watery. 
“I really need a distraction right now, do you… do you have any weed?” He’s never seen you this irate before and it worries him. What made you so upset that you'd seek him out in the middle of the night?
“How much do you need?” He asks gently as he leads you to his bedroom. He leaves you to look around as he squats next to his desk, yanking open the bottom drawer to reveal his stash. 
“I- I have enough for a dime bag, that’s it.” You mutter out, running a delicate finger across the strings of his acoustic. 
Eddie quickly bags twenty dollars worth of the sticky green bud, knees popping as he stands and hands it to you. 
“This… Eddie this is way more than a gram.” You eye him suspiciously, unsure if he’s made a mistake or not. 
“No, I know. It’s fine, half price.” Eddie shrugs, shifting from one bare foot to the other, he doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him like he’s done something wrong. 
“No.” You shake your head, shoving the baggie into his chest as you shake your head. “You’d be totally ripping yourself off. Gimme ten dollars worth and I’ll get out of your hair.” 
“Come on, sweetheart, just take it. You’re my best customer anyways.” Eddie starts to smile but it quickly vanishes as your eyes fill with tears and your entire face falls. “Hey, hey, please don’t cry!” 
He guides you to sit on his bed, your body crumpling in on itself as you cover your face with shaking hands. He’s clueless on what to do, settles on rubbing a steady hand up and down your back. 
“F-fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie.” You’re wiping at your cheeks, eyes darting around his dimly lit room. “I’ve had such a shit week, I can’t believe I’m crying at my dealers house.” You scoff a humorless laugh that makes him frown. 
My dealers house. Is that all you saw him as, your dealer? He’d hoped after the last time he’d at least be considered a friend.
“Wanna talk about it?” He offers, lips twisting into a one sided smile when you meet his eyes.
“You don’t wanna hear about my shit.” You deadpan, your face sullen, eyes blank. You look like you haven’t slept in days, the bags under your eyes incredibly telling.  
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn't want to know.” He counters, leaning over you to grab his abandoned joint from the ashtray. 
You hesitate before erupting into a fast paced tangent that Eddie can barely keep up with. College and your parents and your ex boyfriend sleeping with the one girl he always told you not to worry about. By the time you're done talking you've slumped down into his pillows, eyes glued to the ceiling as you calm your breathing. 
"I'm just so tired, I wanted to be an adult so bad and now… now I wish I could be as careless as a child again." You sigh deeply, fingers toying with a loose thread on his pillow case. Eddie crawls up beside you after stubbing out the joint you'd been sharing. 
"Sounds like a lot." He says, balling up one of his blankets into a makeshift pillow. You look over at him, eyes hooded with exhaustion and yet still so pretty. 
"I'm sorry, I came over here and cried and dumped all my shit on you without even asking how you were." You turn on your side to face him, hand tucked under your cheek. "How are you, Eddie?" 
He chuckles. "Right now? Right now I'm laying next to the prettiest girl in Hawkins so… doing pretty good, sweetheart." 
You roll your eyes at him but the toothy smile on your face tells him all he needs to know. "Always the charmer, aren't you, Eddie Munson." 
"Always." He whispers, reaching out to stroke his finger down your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut and you yawn. "Hey, uh, if you want you can sleep here for a little bit."
"Yeah?" You ask through an even bigger yawn. "You sure you won't mind?"
"Not at all. Sleep." With that he covers your body with his softest blanket before rolling off the bed. He pulls the string on his side lamp before shutting the door, the sound of your soft snores already filtering through the air.
— 
He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until he's woken up suddenly, a warm body pressing into his own on the small space of the couch.
"I didn't mean to wake you." You whisper in the darkness, smoothing your hand down the front of his shirt, your head laid against his shoulder. Eddie moves to wrap his arm around you, securing your body to his so you won't fall off as he shifts to make more room. 
"S'okay, sweetheart." Truthfully he can't remember even laying down, let alone letting sleep carry him under. His heart picks up its pace when your hand stills to rest right below his belly button, thumb coasting soothingly against the waistband of his boxers. 
A peaceful quiet takes over, neither of you speaking as you settle into his warm embrace. He can't help but love the way you feel pressed against him this, not sexual, but still intimate in a way Eddie has never experienced. 
"Hey, Eddie?" You speak after a while. "I'm sorry I ran out on you that night in your van." If you feel him tense under you as your fingers breach the elastic of his boxers, you don't say anything.
Eddie can't seem to say anything either, not when your hand keeps going lower and lower and his heart is racing so fast it threatens to burst from his chest. 
"I didn't want to leave and I guess that's the problem. I never want to leave when I'm with you." You grasp his thick length in your hands, tightening your grip at his tip, thumb swiping over his leaking slit. "This okay?" You ask softly into the sensitive skin of his neck, teeth nipping at the skin there when he nods.
"Use your words, baby." 
"Don't fucking stop." It rushes out from between his lips in a hurried whisper, his eyes clenching tight as your hand explores his throbbing cock.
"Feels good?" You ask and he's sure you already know the answer by the way he can't stop his hips from bucking up into your hand. 
"I think about that night a lot, you know. Haven't even been interested in anyone else since it happened. Can only think about you." You're fucking panting in his ear, like you're working yourself up with your own words. 
"Need you to fuck me, Eddie. Need to feel you inside me again. Can't stop thinking about it. Think I might be addicted to you-" 
Eddie has you flat against your back on his hard floor, quieting your surprised yelp with his mouth slotted against your own. 
He kisses you fiercely, hands cupping your cheeks as your teeth click and he grinds his hard cock into the space between your legs. 
"Fuck me, Eddie, please." Your breath fans hot across his cheek and despite his raging hard on and his desperate need to be inside you; he stops. 
Because once again, that nefarious thought weaves its way into his brain until it's all he can think of, flashing across the backs of his eyes like a giant neon sign. 
He is still only a rebound.
"I can't." He says, sitting on his knees between your spread thighs. 
"Ed- what? What's wrong?" You scurry to sit up, almost smacking your foreheads together if Eddie hadn't moved just in time to avoid a painful collision. The wideness of your eyes, the rejection settled inside the brilliant color of your irises make his heart thud painfully.
"I can't do this just because you're vulnerable and lonely." His tone is hard, harder than he meant it to be, but he doesn't stop to fix it. He can't fuck you and watch you leave. Not again. 
"I'm not that fucking vulnerable, Eddie." You hiss, scooting away from him. 
"I watched you cry not even three hours ago, sweetheart. You're exhausted and vulnerable and what type of man would I be if I took advantage of that?" He can see your guard going up, that wall you've built out of brick and barbed wire to protect yourself. He doesn't want you to pull away, slip through his fingers, but Eddie also doesn't want to be the guy you fuck just because you feel bad. 
"Is that what you think? That I'm only fucking you because I feel bad about myself?" 
It takes a minute for Eddie to realize what he's said out loud and by then you've already blown past him to his bedroom, closing in on the front door with your purse in hand once you've returned from the back of his trailer.
You stop right as your hand touches the cold metal of the door knob, turning back sharply on your heel to glare at the boy still kneeling on his living room floor. You toss the ten dollar bill at him and he watches it flutter weakly to the carpet.
"Just so you know, I fucked you because I like you, not because you were the only guy who would listen to my shit." Your chin wobbles once before you purse your lips tightly, nostrils flaring as you suck in a shaky breath willing yourself not to cry. "You can be a real jerk, Eddie Munson." 
Then you're gone and he can hear your shoes stomp down his front steps, the slam of your car door, the scatter of gravel as you peel out of the trailer park, and Eddie hangs his head feeling like a fucking idiot.
"Fuck!" He screams, punching his fists into the carpet over and over until the searing pain radiates up his wrists. He collapses back against the couch with a full thud, palms pressed hard into his eye sockets. 
Inside his chest, beneath the growing, crawling, mass of vines- his heart aches. 
1K notes · View notes
nyx-aira · 2 years
Note
Heya^^ I hope I don't bother you, but I just saw that you take requests for MoonKnight and I wanted to ask, May I get the Moon Knight characters with a chubby s/o who is very insecure about their chubbyness? I already say thank you!^^💜
Headcanons: Moonknight characters with a chubby s/o
Characters: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Layla El-Fouly, Arthur Harrow
A/N: thanks for requesting dear:) I really hope I got them right and as I'm not plus sized please tell me if any of these are offensive or negative in any way, shape or form and I will edit/delete them immediately.
PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.
PSA c/@ynscrazylife
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Steven
Steven met you in the museum. He saw you wandering around and was smitten with you the moment he saw you.
He had been too shy to say something to you at first but when you saw the Taweret plushies he took his chance. Ranting about some facts of the hippo goddess he absolutely blushed when you laughed at one of his jokes.
"So um I finish in 20 minutes would you like - you don't have to of course - to see the exhibit with me? I-I just thought, you know, you're very pretty and..."
Steven rambled on and on until you said yes.
He was very exited when you really waited for him to finish his shift and told you all about the museum and cracked some adorable jokes.
When a man made a derogative comment about you Steven was quick to pull you out of earshot and hugged you. It was an instinctive decision and he apologised as soon as he realised what he was doing and that faint blush was on his face again.
He cracked another joke and made a comment about how the Egyptian gods would probably smite this man for saying something like this.
When you continue your museum dates and eventually he invited you to his flat he was such a flustered mess when you said yes. He prepared everything and cleaned the whole apartment so he could impress you. He bought you flowers and chocolates and even wore a bow tie.
Steven once accidentally called you love and when he realised that you liked the nickname, he'd continue calling you that and would shower you with cute nicknames. His favourite was dear.
When you confided in him that you were quite insecure about your body, he just wrapped his arms around you and told you, that if Hathor (goddess of love, music and beauty) hadn't already an avatar it would definitely be you.
He also gave you the Taweret plushie you bought when you met him and told you that she would protect you the same way he would, when he wasn't with you.
Every time you felt insecure Steven would bring home another Taweret plushie and would distract you from your thoughts with hugs and rants about work and the Egyptian gods.
Marc
You met Marc while you were on vacation in Egypt and he stopped what he was doing when he saw you on the streets.
At first he just watched you, scared he would bring harm to you if he got to know you, but when he saw you again the next day he decided fuck it and introduced himself.
He took some time out of his day to show you around Cairo and the two of you had lots of fun together.
When it was time for you to go back to London he gave you his number and this was the start of your relationship. He texted you as often as possible and you also facetimed a lot.
He once called you when you were feeling bad and as soon as you picked up the phone he noticed something was wrong. When you told him what was going on there was silence on the other end of the phone and you thought for a moment he hung up on you. After a minute of silence you heard him inhale and then he spent the next ten minutes telling you about all the things he loved about you, not leaving out a single detail and promising he would hunt down every person that ever insulted you again.
The next the he stood at your doorstep with his suitcase in hand and just pulled you into a kiss. You spent the day cuddling and just talking in bed and Marc listened to all your worries and insecurities and once you were finished he just kissed your head and told you that he would not change a single thing about you.
(And you can bet Marc stayed true to his promise because he would absolutely get into a fistfight for you)
Layla
Layla fell in love with you the moment she met you.
She almost walked into a wall as she watched you walk through the market and she would have gladly broke her nose just to see you again.
She definitely wanted to talk to you the moment she saw you but while she was still thinking about you, you got swallowed by the crowd.
Once she realised she chased after you and finally caught up to you.
"I'm sorry but I saw you in the crowd and I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are."
Layla loved showing you (the legal side) of her work and proudly introduced you to anyone as her partner.
She loved holding hands, especially in public because she could show the world that this amazing person was with her.
Layla just squeezed your hand tighter whenever people were staring at you and assured you she could take care of them if you ever wanted her to.
At home she made the two of you a cup of tea and sat down on the couch, your head on her shoulder as she held your hand and complimented you every time you said something negative about yourself until you felt better.
Layla was always watching and knew if you were feeling insecure or just not worthy of her love. She then always took time for you to either tell her what was going on or distracted you from your thoughts.
Called you her reverything and blushed (YES BLUSHED) when you smiled at her.
Arthur
Arthur worshipped you and your body like the goddess he was devoted to. He saw you as this wonderful gift that came into his life and treated you as such.
When you first met he wanted to judge you at first but he soon forgot that idea as he became enchanted with you and your beauty.
He would always listen to you and erase any negative thoughts you had about yourself. Whether that was with talking or just pulling you close, kissing your knuckles and whispering some lovely praises into your ear.
If you were having a particular bad day he stayed home with you and would spend the day just being there for you and trying to get your mind out of these negative thoughts. 
It was almost as if he knew when you were feeling insecure and would do his best to help you.
He didn't allow people to speak negatively about you and if he ever caught someone doing so they wouldn't be seen in the community again.
"My sweet, precious angel. You are the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me."
Arthur would absolutely be a gentleman and would surprise you with sunset picnics and writing poems for you.
He gave you a necklace to remind you of his love of you.
Arthur loved cuddling in bed with you, no matter how insecure you might feel about it. He loves holding you close and planting soft kisses all over your face.
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Taglist:@escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @ynscrazylife @sokovianheadtilt @wandaswifeyforlifey @scarthefangirl @procrastinatingsapphictrash @ineffablebean @official-clint-barton @wlwlovesreading @multifandomfix @fairydxll @sapphic-stress
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charlithepuppeteer · 2 months
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My rivusa fate wins saga head cannons
( sorry I haven't posted I've been dead with vivid since Monday. Also there will be slight meetings if smut in this)
Riven is a kinky top during sex
Musa is a raging bottom
Riven bites musa's neck and her inner thighs during sex. Musa enjoys this greatly.
Musa always gets flirted with in bars on nights out and this makes riven jealous. He always leaves her with hickeys if he knows there going to a bar.
riven knows musa's playlists by heart ( her least favorite to favorite, all the lyrics, and all the songs on the playlists ) and this makes musa love him even more then she already does.
They have assigned dates for some time alone in sky and rivens dorm with skloom.
Riven doesn't allow musa to wear the runic limiters all the time only during practice and morning and night. She can't sleep with them on. Since her head hurts from other people's emotions in public places riven always holds her hand and she focuses on his mind.
Musa once tried wearing the runic limiters all the time and her wrists got seriously injured and they cracked her bones and fucked up her nerves so she now always has to wear a wrist brace for support.
Both Riven and musa have had from suicidal thoughts and cut/used to cut. Musa still cuts when she can't wear her runic limiters. She does this on her shoulders and thighs so no one notices. She only recently started doing it on her shoulders. Stella is the only one who knows.
Musa can manipulate what people see now from further training, and caused that to happen when riven first saw her cuts.
Musa is a big how to train your dragon, wings of fire, and Greek mythology nerd.
Musa read Percy Jackson and a kid so Riven learned about it and made blue cookies for her.
musa made Riven take a which Greek god/goddess are you. He got Hera and musa didn't talk to him for a week.
Musa thought her tongue was gone after her wisdom teeth removal.
Musa and Riven play fight all the time.
They don't do normal dates. They do things like Nerf battles, debates about stupid things, acting out stupid plays, and roasting random people they see on the street ( not out loud to the person though).
Musa bites people to show affection.
Musa and Riven are always touching.
They both have shitty dads who abused them. Rivens physically, musa's mentally.
Musa owns hella fuzzy socks.
Riven loves to scare people with his sword. In his third year he ran into a random class with his sword and scared everyone a few times.
He's super festive around holidays and acts like a child with musa.
They both are obsessed with Squishmallows.
If one gets sick then the other is tasked with caring for them no matter what. They gladly do this.
Musa and rivens relationship is based on cuddles.
They would cuddle after long days of training every once in a while, then it escalated to every night when they were still friends.
They have this inside joke of pinning each other on random places.
Riven tickles musa a lot.
They go shopping together and both need to be restrained in there certain areas of interest.
Riven is obsessed with candles. His favorite scent is strawberry or jasmine and rose because they remind him of musa.
Riven loves the rain and him and musa always go out and play in it when it rains.
They sit in the balcony in the winx suite ( i am a firm believer that there should have been a balcony so I made one in these head cannons) when it snows and drink hot chocolate.
Stella is rivens favorite winx girl apart from musa because she was the one who took the dating news the best and fully supports it. ( She also set them up in secret)
they text each other random emojis during class to make each other laugh.
They make everything a competition.
musa does really stupid shit sometimes and riven always covers for her.
Riven and Musa have both ADHD. Musa has minor autism.
Riven can't sleep at night when musa's not with him. Same with sky. so they both rearrange their room at night as a last minute thought.
Riven places musa's things in different places, she hates this but riven thinks it's hilarious.
Whenever the group is watching Disney movies musa and Riven will always start singing if it's a boy and girl duet. Sometimes skloom beats them to this. They all pick characters and sing their songs if they have one during movies.
Musa is into so many fandoms ( Sally face, how to train you dragon, wings of fire, Lilo and stitch, Percy Jackson, descendants, helluva boss, hazbin hotel, and many more) and Riven anyways gets her random merch for her fandoms.
They are both bisexual and Musa uses they/them pro nouns, so they attend pride festivals every year.
Riven always draws on musa's arms.
They both have tattoos symbolizing each other. Musa had a sword and Riven had a music note. Only they can see The others tattoos and no one else knows about them.
Riven had an obsession with bath and body works hand sanitizers. He has over 50 of them.
Musa can't cook for shit. Riven is an amazing cook and always brings her breakfast in bed when they sleepover at the end suite.
They don't shower together it's just not something they really want to do. The shower calms them down and they enjoy their private time to themselves in there.
Rivens favorite people in the world are musa, sky, Silvia, Stella, Flora, Bloom, Dane, Terra, and Aisha
Dane and Musa are best friends since musa went to him for advice on riven since sky was unhelpful and only fangirled once she asked him for help
Riven always kisses musa on the nose as a goodbye.
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use-your-telescope · 5 months
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Let's spread some positivity! Tag some of your fellow content creators here and let them know why they are absolutely amazing!❤️
OOOOOOOPS I think I have had this sitting in my asks for a while and completely space cadet-ed on it...
@infinitystoner my first tumblr friend!! You are so freaking talented at every genre and trope you tackle in fics - I am so grateful you thought to message me via the hellsite those many months ago!! Your smut? Immaculate. Your angst? Hurts so good. Your character chemistry? Simply divine! The way you create atmosphere and use language to create such nuance is truly a masterclass.
@loki-cees-all CEEEEEEE you are my beloved angsty queen. The way you are able to get inside Loki's mind and really dive into the little details that bring the hurt is so fucking delightful. I know I owe you at least a few raving reblogs of your most recent fic, so stay tuned!
@the-lady-amphitrite my fellow lore and world building lover!! Any time I get to see behind the curtain in your work is such a blast, and you also crack me up on the regs. Plus video game nerding is alway a delight!
@sarahscribbles Smut goddess! Whether looking for soft or kink, Saz has got you covered. Saz also does such a beautiful job of highlighting relationships in her smut and really giving them depth. She also has some absolutely delightful fluff to investigate, if you're looking for pure warm and fuzzies.
@cleo-fox I am still working my way through your catalog (god damn I am so behind), but YO everything I've read is a straight BANGER (literally and metaphorically). You balance environment, chemistry, and pacing so perfectly in every story I've read, and you've turned some of the more mundane moments into straight up steam sessions.
@maple-seed THROWN. HOLY THROWN. If you, random hellsite user, are reading this and have not read Thrown, *DROP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND GO READ THROWN!!* It is the *perfect* comfort fic - friends to lovers, slow burn, so soft I want to scream. I'm not on the tag list because I get the A03 emails, and let me just say the *moment* I see that notification in my inbox I drop what I'm doing and go read the update (even if I'm in the middle of a meeting, haha!). I'm behind like, four chapters on reblogs because I have so many thoughts (most of which are OH MY GOD MY HEART IS GOING TO EXPLODE FROM THE SOFT!!). Also, Maple's portrayals of Thor and Valkyrie are delightful!!
@tripleyeeett You are SO FREAKING AMAZING AT WRITING ASTARION and so funny and down to earth and I love your no-bullshit attitude and nerding about BG3 and all sorts of stuff.
Also, I know that they haven't been posting stories for a while, but I do also want to shout out @asteralpine (kaeorin on AO3) - their Loki's Lullabies series was my first introduction to Loki fics (back in 2021); part of why I made a new tumblr account was to be able to share their stories, but more importantly I don't think I would have even started WEMTBB if I hadn't discovered the Lullabies! I have slowly been working on a mega post of all my favorite stories from the series and why I love them so much, but I'm starting to think it's going to be a multi-part post because with over 250 entries in the series, there are too many to fit in one post. These days, the lullabies can only be found on AO3 and you need to be logged in to read them, but I highly, highly recommend them. Oh, and also, there are other non-lullaby stories, and they also are all A+.
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gust-jar-simulator · 7 months
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Somebody liked my post on evil Red so here’s a teaser for Penumbra, featuring Legend and Blue.
-🐇❄️🧊❄️🐇-
Legend… really didn’t know what to think of his new captors. He’d been expecting a cell, maybe some shackles. At worst, fucked up dark magic and torture devices. This room was certainly functioning as his cell, but there were rugs and little seating poufs and a slightly-better-than-shitty bed, all in alarming shades of pastel that clashed horribly with the bare stone and rune-enforced door.
If he thought about it too hard he felt like a pet, so he didn’t. No need to tempt the already sadistic gods.
He’d heard the three shadows bickering outside his door maybe an hour ago- the greenish one had been throwing his authoritative weight around, it sounded like, demanding an interrogation, but the other two had headed him off with mentions of “Vio” and the game and something about hospitality that had devolved into a shouting match. At this rate he was just sort of hoping they remembered Hylians needed to eat. Why invent future horrors when he could wait patiently and see them for himself?
He was busy considering the cracks in the walls when the door finally creaked open on heavy hinges, and the blue one hustled into the cell with a platter of something, collapsing back against the door with a harried sigh that echoed strangely.
“Fuck everything,” the ice-encrusted shadow hissed, “but fuck that guy in particular.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
The dark’s head snapped up, frozen eyes gleaming with a sick milky film. “Excuse you?”
“Oh, sorry,” the veteran drawled. “I meant to say the weather’s so nice today.” He leaned back on the bed, eyeing the windowless walls appreciatively. “Kind of monastery chic meets little girls’ tea party. Bold choice for a prison, I like your moxie.”
With an utterly disgusted noise, the dark stepped forward to drop the platter a little too roughly on a tea table- mostly fruits, nuts, and a few mushrooms, with an entire waterskin instead of a cup. He then straightened a chair, a doily, and gave a rug in the corner a particularly severe look like he was resisting the urge to completely pull it up, hands flexing a couple of times.
Legend watched with great interest as he hissed between his teeth again, icy vapor misting in the air. “This is stupid. We both know this game is fucking stupid.”
Well. He wasn’t expecting one of his captors to crack so soon. “I’m the guy in a box.”
“Yeah?” There was a crunching, grinding noise as the shadow turned to glare at him sightlessly, clear water dripping from a crack in his stony neck. “Well our guy in your box is a massive fucking problem, because I give it a week max before Red or Green or both can’t handle the fucking temptation of a good guy on our turf.”
He liked to consider himself a reasonable guy. Villains typically didn’t have much worthwhile to say but gloating or breakdowns of their own weaknesses, and this was decidedly the latter but far too soon. He frowned. “Uh. What about you? Gonna give in and eat me or something?”
“You wish I’d eat you.” Blue- that had to be his name- started pacing, rugs glittering with frost as he started wearing a trench in the floor. “If I had my way I’d drop you right back on the Goddess’s golden tits. Or a ditch. But the game’s been set, and there’s rules to this shit, so here you are and here I am and Vio is pulling a goddamned stunt that will get us all killed.”
Legend dragged over a pillow and propped it behind his back. “Do I get a reward if I pretend to be empathetic or something? Is this group therapy or just a you thing.”
Blue made a noise like a feral boar, and the temperature dropped so fast his ears popped.
Right. Unknown and unpredictable shadow monsters with possible elemental affinities. That. Legend swallowed, and licked his dry lips.
Dragging his compusure together, thread by tenuous thread, Blue took several deep breaths that fogged the air around him like the cloudy crown of a mountain. “I mean this in the most genuine way you’ll ever hear: watch your fucking mouth, you stupid piece of shit.” He marched closer, cold as rain and twice as unpleasant, to stand a respectable foot away from the bed and glare down at him. “I’m a lovely spring flower compared to the rest because I don’t want shit to do with you. Your only fucking use to me is collateral for my teammate’s health. Green thinks you might be useful. You don’t want to be useful.” He leaned down slightly, voice lowering like someone could hear. “Red wants to be friends, but if you get uppity you’ll wish he’d just killed you. And I won’t stop him, because I love him more than I care about your fucking well-being. Get me?”
“Gotten.” He was very, very uncomfortable having a possible ice elemental within spitting distance, but heroes thrive under pressure. He could work with this. He could sit put and be boring, or he could push his shitty luck. The man leaning over him was cracked like oracle bones. “What about Dark? Should I be expecting courting gifts?”
“Dark doesn’t know you’re here.”
What. Did they sneak him into the enemy’s base for fun?
They’d been calling it a game from the start.
Shit.
Shit.
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mhaynoot · 9 months
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gigantic genshin rant, genshin enjoyers please ignore. this is for my own cathartism
i liked genshin like genuinely. like i was one of those losers who played when it first launched, gave up because i didn’t like the flat writing then came back into it because i dunno something but then i got super into it and then i spiraled and became genuinely addicted and obsessive over it because it was literally the only thing keeping me semi-sane during the pandemic and also because lumine is the love of my life and goddess of light, my moon and starlight and i simped so hard for her but god genshin kinda really fucking sucks.
i mean this as sincerely and unharshly as possible but the story is really really bad. the themes and the pacing and the way its written is just so messy.
the game expects you to play the main story and then mid-way randomly go on dates or do character stories. like every archon arc has this one part where everything, the build up, the tension, the plot thickening moment just stops and genshin goes ‘okay now time to go on dates with these limited time characters so you can form a bond with them and give us money to pull for them’ and ughughguh it wouldn’t be too bad but most of the time the character stories are just shallow marketing.
i remember playing ayaka’s story quest and when the story went ‘she doesn’t have any friends’, i pulled up short and was like then wtf is ‘thoma?’ and then cried when thats never ever addressed and she just becomes a demure ojousama character and almost nothing else
like genuinely the character story i like the most is still zhongli’s pt 1 and 2 and that was three years ago.
like the characters have backstories, some with really really interesting backstories. why can’t we just explore those???? why do we have to go on another bland date for the billionth time instead of just seeing a nicely animated scene or heck even just a VN style version of the character’s already written up stories.
oh another bad habit of genshin: themes and plots are just dropped left and right or rushed through in one arc and then never brought up again. like the whole inazuma story arc. also again characters randomly coming up for one scene and then never appearing again because their marketing period is over. again inazuma story arc. god inazuma story arc was just so bad.
over utilisation of npc characters who do not have unique models and bland personalities. like how many greedy merchants are we going to have to sit through? or generic fatui bad guy aklsj crycrycyr
the way its formed as a gacha game (especially one where there is no option to replay events and the main story) with a set release schedule really fucks up any pacing it could potentially have. but also the bloated cast is already cracking under its own weight as some characters a very loved and you can see the care and effort that went into their story, their design, their repeated appearance in the narrative and in everything but then others are just one and done. the way a gacha game’s priority is profit and releasing new characters every so often just means this reality but its so sad and frustrating with the potential loss.
even just reading the story is annoying because of the visual novel aspects combined with the 3d cutscenes make it hard to keep an enjoyable flow. I like reading, i don’t mind skipping some animation or voicelines if i can just keep reading but because of the game forcing you to observe these mini cutscenes, its annoying and choppy as my eyes glaze over and i just wait for a character to cycle through one of four stock animations. seriously character animations are so limited i don’t understand why i have to sit through one more scene of someone crossing their arms. like i understand what they want to do but honestly ive had way mor enjoyment reading static image VNs
paimon keeps repeating entire dialogue scenes to the player as if we’re babies who need someone to summarise what literally just happened on screen. like add a fucking history tab or something please if you won’t even add a skip button. like the whole argument about not adding a skip button is because its all about the story but i’m really truly sorry but the story itself sucks. the dialogue is long winded and sometimes i can literally feel as if the writer had been forced to meet a quota and its just- its just frustrating.
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tobiasdrake · 2 months
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We're here. The final leg of our mission: Glacial Peak.
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Every bone in my body has fragmented into shards. When I move my limbs they crickle-crack like maracas. T-T Also Luana was not kidding when she said it's cold as balls up here.
I hate this. I hate everything about it. I want to go home. Working for the postal service sucks. ._.
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...hmm....
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HMMMMMMMMMM
This ring perplexes me. Getting over to it is fairly simply but why would it be here? It's a graplou target but. It's in a corner. There's nowhere to reach by graplou-ing onto it.
What purpose could this possibly serve?
Oh well. Moving right along, we are just about finished here.
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I have not! ^_^ Pretty sure once we drop off this Scroll at the summit, we're in the clear. We're probably like 90% through this adventure by now.
Looking forward to getting it done with and then maybe a relaxing spa trip. I wonder if any part of Bamboo Creek is still functional as a spa? They had a pretty cool high dive but I'm looking for more of a hot tub and sauna situation here. It's very cold.
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Oh, thanks for the tidbit, I hadn't fucking noticed you dickweevil.
Sitting here all comfy in your room beyond time and space. Some of us have jobs, you know.
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...yeah, okay. I've kind of been glazing through most of your stories since they don't really seem connected to anything but something about this one just... It sends a chill down my spine I can't quite explain.
I don't know why. I don't have a lot of mentors or responsible guiding figures to look up to. I've lived my life according to the teachings of an immortal being of limitless wisdom--
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"19-year-old girl who, purely because of a well-timed nudge, tripped over her left ankle and fell backwards into incredible cosmic power. But don't mind me. I may or may not be an 'assclown'."
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...an immortal being of limitless wisdom and eternal grace.
So I don't know what about this one called out so much to me. I guess it's just something I'll have to mull over.
...I'm touching your cabinet out of spite.
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Honestly, this place isn't so bad. Sure, it's a little slippery here or there and the footings aren't great and also it's so heavily demon infested oh god I've died five times just from plunging to my doom
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Is that the fucking Shopkeeper?
If he is Resh'an then Luana's going to have some choice words about him getting a statue. And most of them will be expletives.
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The lanterns are frozen to keep me from going over there. That just makes me want to do it even more. But my sword and shurikens are useless against ice.
Sure do wish I had something to burn.
Also, sleeves.
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No, at this point, I'm expecting it at every pit. ._.
Oh! Sorry, I was so focused, I forgot to tell you. Yeah, we've made to to Glacial Peak. I met two huge muscle-men that wanted to wrestle with me in their loincloths. One of them showed me his dick and then they apologized by breaking every bone in my body, and that's why we're freezing to death in this miserable place.
Honestly, can this place get any wo--
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But I don't want to be perforated today. T-T
It's okay. Utilizing this weird new concept of patience and moderation, I think I've figured out his fighting style.
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A careful and measured approach feels so heretical and yet so satisfying. It's like I'm working inside of my human limits to overcome the insurmountable!
See you around, warping wonderfuck. ^_^ Okay, I take it back; I'm feeling pretty good about my life right now. I can take on any--
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Well, that's just rude. Okay, back to blazing the trail by skidding on my face across rock and snow.
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Oh my goddess, trees. Actual living things instead of sheer cliff drops and onto bonesplitting rocks.
I think I'm here. I think I actually fucking made it. At last. I'm ready to drop off this stupid fucking Scroll, go home, and move on with my life--
Wait, my home burned down in a demon invasion. Right. Shit. Well, we'll deal with that when it comes. For right now, I should see what Shopkeeper has to say about--
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...uh....
...
...
Hello?
...
Assclown?
...
...
I'm touching his cabinet.
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...yes. Yes, I did.
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But I WANT one.
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I don't believe you. I think you have the secret to everything in this cabinet. The cabinet is life. The cabinet is my dreams. I belong in the cabinet.
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bahellbender · 9 months
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It’s been 2 hours since they left the crypt and Bran is still acting strange. She still thinks they need to stop and rest, but he insists that he’s fine and that they need to make it back to town. They already checked him for a concussion and any broken bones, but he’s still stumbling over his own feet and tripping over his words.
“‘M okay,” he mumbles, not meeting her eyes. “Just need to get away from here.”
This isn’t like him at all. Bran is always the brightest fucking ray of sunshine, like a big happy puppy, even when he’s hurt. Actually, he’s even more endearing when he’s hurt, because he just looks so crushed that he can’t carry his own weight that you just can’t help feeling bad for him.
This isn’t that. He won’t look at her, hasn’t smiled or cracked a joke since they crawled back into the waning daylight, and when Arla raises a hand to touch his shoulder, he jerks away like she’s burned him. Gods, she hopes that it isn’t something really serious, because that blow to the head had looked pretty bad.
They're still a good hour away from the village- they would have made better time, except for Bran's difficulty walking- when Arla finally calls a halt. She's exhausted and filthy and hurts all over, so she can't imagine how he must feel, but she insists they move off the road to sit under the shade of some trees, tells him she needs to get her breath back.
She's starting to get an idea of what's going on, and for the first time in a long time, she's scared. Together, they've faced down bandits, monsters, the so many fights and battles that left them bloodied and scarred, but nothing has ever frightened her like the suspicion she has now.
Please, goddess, she thinks, handing him her canteen with hands prickling with nervous sweat, I may not be one of Yours but he is, so let me be wrong about this.
Bran takes the offered canteen, carefully avoiding letting their fingers touch (why? he's never cared before) and raises it to his lips. Her breath catches in her throat.
And he stops. Lowers it. A strange look passed over his face, but it's gone before she can recognize it. "Arla," he says, quietly. "This is that holy water I gave you before we left yesterday."
"Oh!" She laughs, but it sounds fake even to her, and she's always been the better actor of the two of them. "Sorry, I must have gotten it mixed up with my normal water. You know, it's a good thing we ended up not needing all those blessings you cast before–"
"Arla."
Why does he sound like that. Where is the sun-warmth in his voice?
"Arla, do you have it?"
She doesn't bother playing dumb. Of course she has it, the stupid fucking thing that they'd gone to get out of the crypt in the first place like a lead weight in the pouch at her hip.
"Let me see it."
It's probably stupid to take the thing out, the delicate chain that the amulet hangs from tangling in her fingers. The blood-red ruby set in its center flashes in the setting sun.
Arla doesn't see it, vision blurred over with hot, angry tears. Why had they taken that job? What the fuck was this thing worth, that put such a look of such blinding hate on a face that had only ever looked at her with love?
Bran doesn't move to take it, just stares at it with more venomous rage than she would ever think he could possibly feel. His gaze snaps back up as she lowers the thing and fixes him a gaze with almost as angry.
"Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"
She expects him to deny it. Desperately wishes that look would drop from his face and he'd laugh at this joke, at the big scare he's given her. Tell her that he was just messing with her, and. And that everything would be okay.
Instead, the thing wearing Bran's face lets the act drop. Something subtle in the way it's holding itself changes, slumping Bran's shoulders and tilting its head with another look he isn't capable of, icy cold and threatening.
"You," it hisses, and Bran's honey-gold voice should never sound like this, "have something of mine."
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probably-haven · 2 years
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This dendro archon talk woul be really mysterious
If I didn't already know she was a child
- anyways more commentary
OMG THEY'RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO HIDE THE FACT THAT KATHERYNE IS A ROBOT ANYMORE
The gods in the desert died long ago is a fun sentence
Ooo a dude with prophecy that's a reoccurring thing. We love that
Significantly less helpful lore than I thought
HELLO DEHYA OMG SHE'S LOVELY
OH she has the same thing as Collei don't she- rippp
Has Dehya had a banner? Cuz if not I might save for her- we'll see
Oh damn so Kusanali is just - not allowed to do anything basically- ripp
I've heard the name Nilou before- I think they're playable?
OMG SHE'S GORGEOUS
what kind of crack did they put in these characters-
She's so flowyyy
I'm just tryna spot people's visions but I can't find any
OH THERE'S ONE Pyro Dehya
And hydro Nilou, so it does match the color scheme
Geez their designs anyway
Did I mention the architecture because it's lovely - the colors and everything
Goddess of flowers- gotta keep note of this.
Wait on ONE of Rukkhadevata's birthdays? Huh fun
Note to self: look up the archive description of Padisarahs
I want to know more about the goddess of flowers
EXCUSE ME? DAMN THAT'S DARKK RIP REAL PADISARAHS
KATHERYNE CAN LEAVE THE ADVENTURER'S GUILD???
"WHAT'S SHAKING????" WHAT THE FUCK
COMPLICATE FUNCTIONS SO SHE IS A ROBOT
FONTAINE HAS MOVIES???? MOVIES EXIST IN GENSHIN???
DEHYA, NILOU, AND DUNYARZAD THE DYNAMIC IS GOLD
The duck is a scarlet king
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What an icon- I love her
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werewolfcave · 2 years
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so arc 11, arc 12, and arc 13 are a little less clear cut than the rest of the arcs, as its more just things kinda just happen over long periods of times and then stuff happens at certain points, with the whole 3 arc section taking about 14 years but arc 13, specifically the last 2 years of it, are the most important of it.
basically, they find where the statues leading to the goddess' prison dimension is some time in arc 12 but its kinda just a casual archaeology thing until they realize some stuff about it and call in the heroes when they discover it's linked to the goddess very deeply. The goddess doesn't answer when they try to ask her, and they dont really want to do something she doesnt want them to do but the four god kids and the four main fragments go in anyways and they meet Ture, Jewl, and the rest of the servants.
Ture mentions a dark and violent presence in the forest that has been there for several thousand years (more than enough time between arc 6 and now) that is so menacing, no one has gone to check it out. the 8 ask ture to take them, and he and jewl begrudgingly agree.
when they find the source of the dark presence, they see... another servant? it breaks the chains binding it and attacks, only to stop and turn into vul's god form, but the god glass is cracked. something that should never happen. he explains everything and they prepare for war against the goddess before leaving and freeing everyone from the prison realm, which does not escape the goddess' notice. she notes that if they're declaring war, then she's going to give them a war, and takes control of the fragments to fight against everyone else. order, malice, and kindness join her side as well due to the fact that they're manipulated my her to believe they would be bad children if they didnt follow their mother.
the goddess destroys the capital of solhearth and the war begins. obviously a lot of death and bad things happen, as ive told you in dms and call before, so yknow.
at the very end though, the goddess gets her hand on vul, and she is ready to kill him, leaving her beast form so she can kill him in the form he fell in love with, only for ture to attack her and drive her away. the goddess fights with ture for a while before throwing him to the side. she turns back to vul only to find out that vul stole the sword she threw aside in the commotion when he stabs her with it.
the two are summoned to the reality's council where imagination remarks he is disapointed and holds a trial with all she has hurt. the vote is an overwhelming fuck you (theres easily millions of people here) and shes stripped of her godhood and sent to her prison dimension (thats the epilogue arc but its not important) and ture becomes the new god of creation and life in her place. everyone goes home and picks up the pieces, but its okay because the one they were all afraid of, the one who squashed them down and hurt them and made them afraid, is gone.
-Oh boy the number 4!
-She really did manage to crack god glass huh
-NOT THE FORM VUL FELL FOR
-GET HER ASS VUL
-Love the overwhelming fuck you vote
-I need you to know every single time you talk about the prison dimension I think about those minecraft prison servers where the prison is made of bedrock and everything
-They're healing <3
Anyways Gods Below is sooooo wild, everyone should go ask Dox more about it, it's sooooo well thought out
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kizzesfrombat · 1 month
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˚₊‧꒰ა Starlight's Glow MHA x Reader fanfic! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
It was a cold winter night, the clouds barely allowed any moonlight to grace these forgotten lands. Humans have disappeared ever since the war…it was quite strange, it was a conflict between beasts and yet humans still managed to get involved and forced themselves to face death. You'd forgotten how long you'd been here for, barely shining bright enough to light the way for the young travelers. Your glow was light, soft, inviting. Yet it was barely there, like a ghosting touch. Everyone who saw you felt entranced, they stopped in their tracks just to gaze upon your gorgeous glow, your warmth. Yet they'd soon leave you behind, unaware of how lonely your existence was without them. 
You were by far the least bright star in the sky. Devoid of attention from the Sun God, devoid of glow and a never ending dread looming over you. Yet the Moon Goddess, Hikari Tsukuyomi, loved you. She'd protect your remaining glow with everything she had, even begging the Sun God, Haru Amaterasu, to spare you some of his shine. His messy, long, blonde hair had this endless glow, he wore an eyepatch on one eye which had a big golden sun on it. His stare was harsh, calculating, opposite of Hikari's caring one and his eyes were devoid of joy and life. Hikari had tried to talk to him, prevent him from exploding under his own shine and yet it was to no avail. He didn't want to share his glow, never wanted to share anything as a matter of fact!
“Why should I waste my special glow on such a small and insignificant star like that?” He scoffed, his golden locks framed his face in a beautiful way, his hazel eyes glared at you before turning back to Hikari. The Moon Goddess pleaded, her gray eyes filled with sadness. 
“Please, don't take your anger out on them! They're not the ones who hurt you, I was”
“Hikari, don't you dare bring this up now” The Sun God glared daggers into Hikari as her shoulders tensed.
“How long do you plan on avoiding this situation, Haru?” She questioned, her voice cracked, her hands trembled as she reached out for him. Haru sighed, and brushed her hand off of him.
“After all these years, you're still nothing but a crybaby I see.” Haru just about spat. Hikari’s eyes closed, seemingly holding back tears. She bit her lip to stop herself from making a comment about his selfishness or his lack of respect for her and her stars and yet…
“After all these years and you're still-” Hikari started before she closed her mouth, lips trembling.
“You're still nothing but a fucking coward” Her voice was harsh, it lacked it’s usual sweetness, her eyes were shut as she continued to yell at Haru, who grimaced slightly at her comment. 
“You've changed so much after all the attention you received from mortals! You truly are as selfish as can be!” Hikari turned her heel and stomped out of the room, dragging you with her. Her geta made a light clicking sound against the gold floors. As she walked down the hall she turned to you, silently asking you to shut the door.
Once the door was shut Hikari broke down, eyes glossy from the tears. She was clinging onto your silver Yukata’s sleeve, she fell to her knees, too exhausted to stand. Hikari was sobbing. Her entire body shook as more tears escaped her closed eyes. You reached for her dark purple hair and gently ran your fingers through them, freeing her midnight locks from her tight Odango, her silver Kanzashi falling to the floor with a light thud. She clung to your sleeve tighter, a silent plea for you not to abandon her like he did. You were unsure of what had happened between them before you became a star.
A few of her tears landed onto your Yukata, forming silver stars on it, but you didn’t really care, all that mattered to you was to see her smile again. You helped her stand back on her feet, yet she stumbled and nearly fell again. You grabbed her shoulders as she leaned on you, you quietly mumbled:
“Let’s get you to your room Hikari” She nodded as she leaned her head on your shoulder.
“Thank you…”
That was the last time the Sun God and Moon Goddess talked, however you couldn’t help but feel guilty. The whole argument between them wouldn’t have started without you, you knew of their past tension yet you never expected to fuel the fire. Truth be told, Hikari was like a mother to you, so seeing her cry broke your heart, or whatever remained anyway. You were dead after all. Stars were nothing but vessels for spirits like you, some humans were aware of it, some weren’t. Some tried to find hidden patterns in the stars when there really was just nothing there. You were nothing but a rock in the sky, there was no hidden meaning behind that. You never understood humans, you forgot what it was like to be one in the first place. The only thing you felt was a sense of boredom that was slowly eating you up inside, the only emotion that was strong enough to frustrate you was the dread you felt whenever you saw dragons fly by you and ignore you.
As the nights passed, keeping quiet about your frustrations had been getting harder. This endless cycle was nothing but a prison, but whenever you tried to confront Hikari about it, she'd just tell you that you've had a long day and ushered you to bed. All until one night…
You sighed and wore your satin, silver haori, hoping for the slightest attention from passing travelers. You put a few hair clips in your hair, both of them being silver and glowing under the pale moonlight. It was your time to shine, literally. You hugged your knees, rolling up into a ball as Hikari gently placed you in a very special spot in the midnight sky. You were bound to get somebody's attention…right? You glance down at the earth below you and notice two pairs of wings, one pair pink and one pair gold. You smiled, they were free, unlike you.
They seemed lost in their own world, chatting, dancing, but never letting go of each other’s hands. Their wings shone almost as brightly as the moon, their scales were beautiful and their tails swung lightly in the wind.
They, like most dragons, chose their human-like forms over their full dragon ones. They had some characteristics like their tails, wings, scales on their neck, cheeks, legs and hands along with sharp claws that were the same color as said scales. Dragons were fascinating to you, you've only admired them from afar and only were able to see their wings! Yet these two just seemed to get closer and closer.
The dragon who was leading the way had big gold eyes with black scleras, pink skin and wild and curly hair. She most definitely bumped into a few trees on her way here, a few twigs and leaves were stuck in her bright pink locks. Golden scales covered her wings, neck and cheeks and she had cream-colored horns. Her golden wings flapped lightly, the moonlight reflecting upon them, making her seem that much more magical. Her tail was the same gold color with some black accents and her kimono was as bright as her hair, a bright pink, suiting her. She didn’t wear a Kanzashi, it must’ve been because of her horns. Her fingers were entangled with the other dragon’s.
The other dragon had cherry blossom colored wings, big brown eyes that glanced curiously at the world around her and short brown hair tied into a small ponytail. She was more well kept than the other dragon, her hair had a bunch of cute pink hairpins, she wore a soft pink eyeshadow, pink lip gloss and a light blush. Her ears were pierced, and she wore some cute pink rose-themed earrings. Her scales were beautiful, and her movements were so graceful. Even her way of flying was elegant! Her beautiful white and pink kimono’s sleeves danced in the wind. Her Kanzashi was a beautiful silver and covered with flowers she picked herself. You could easily tell because some of them were wilting.
They held each other's hand as they flew and passed through gray clouds. The pink dragon glanced up at the sky, getting lost in her thoughts as her beautiful cherry-blossom colored wings flapped. She noticed this star, this star that was lonesome, far away from the rest. The star glowed a light blue color. It was enchanting. A beautiful sight, this star was truly one of nature's gifts.
She squeezed the other dragon’s hand and pointed to the star.
“Isn't it pretty, Mina?” The dragon named Mina gasped as her eyes lit up, brighter than the star itself!
“It's the most beautiful star I've ever seen! Come on Ochako! Let's get a closer look!” Mina flew higher towards the star, her fingers still entangled with Ochako’s. Ochako glanced down at her hand and smiled.
“Mina, aren’t you worried about the lack of oxygen in space?” Ochako’s grip on Mina’s hand tightened with worry.
“Don’t worry ‘Chako, we’re dragons after all!” She flashes her iconic toothy grin, revealing her sharp fangs. The scales on her neck and cheeks puffed up with curiosity the closer they approached the star. 
The star had this gloomy aura to it, its light was weak and it was barely big enough to be seen from earth. Mina’s scales reflected the starlight, so did Ochako’s pink ones, their tails swinging due to the wind and the excitement from being so close to such beauty.
You sat there and waited, waited for someone– anyone– to come by and break this endless cycle you were stuck with. A cycle of endless boredom and self loathing. A cycle of tiredness and the constant need to be perfect. 
“Maybe…” You thought
“ Maybe in another world I'd be the brightest star of them all.”
You tried to stop your stinging eyes from freeing your tears. You breathe in through gritted teeth and try your best not to sob. You raise your hand to cover your mouth and shut your eyes tightly. Your existence felt meaningless, you weren't bright enough to guide travelers throughout the night, you were just there. You didn't have any friends outside of Hikari, you didn't remember your family nor your past. Even if you were to break this loop… Where would you go? It's not like you had someone waiting for you. You've been a star for a few years now, yet you were unsure of how many. Time had passed, nights felt endless and your limbs felt heavy each time you had to go up to the sky and shine with all your might. It's not like it was going to do anything, you just hoped that with your sliver of light, someone lost could find their way back home and not end up like you.
“Oh my! Mina, this star is so much prettier up close!” A soft, feminine voice spoke up, judging by how loud the voice sounded, they must've been close to you. You tensed slightly at the thought, yet didn't open your eyes.
“It is indeed! Did you get a new lip gloss? It really suits you, especially under this lighting!” The voice called Mina asked, much more high pitched than the previous one. It was peaceful, almost refreshing to hear others’ voices again, it made you miss being alive . The gentler voice spoke up again.
“I did! Me and Yaoyorozu crafted them ourselves!” You could hear her chuckle softly, it made your stomach turn, not in a bad way. It felt as if there were beautiful pink flowers growing inside you, their soft, elegant petals similar to the gentle voice's mannerisms. 
“You better invite me next time!” Mina said before redirecting her attention back to you, or rather, the star that she didn't know was you.
“Do you feel it too?” Mina asks. The gentle voice lets out a curious hum.
“The urge to take this star back home!”
Curiosity got the best of you, your eyes fluttered open and saw the beautiful dragons that you remembered flew below you. You haven't heard their voices until now, and hearing them talk never failed to make your heart beat faster. You let out a shuddering sigh, a poor attempt to stop your pounding heart from jumping out of your chest and offering itself to the two women. You were left staring between the two of them as they talked about what they should do about you. You couldn't help but feel flattered that they'd ever want to take someone as small and insignificant back home, you were beyond excited!
“Do you think the star would look pretty in our room? Although Aizawa-Sensei wouldn't be happy with how big the star is… someone in our castle must have shrinking abilities!” The golden dragon's scales puffed up with excitement and her tail wrapped around her friend's! They seemed quite close, you'd hope that one day you'd have what they have.
The familiar sound of geta gently tapping against the stairs of clouds filled your ears and your head instantly snapped towards that direction. Hikari wore black geta that clashed in the most beautiful way with her silver haori. Her long purple hair was neatly put into an Odango, her gray eyes shined under the moonlight. She smiled softly at you as she walked down the cloud-stairs before redirecting her attention towards the two dragons.
“Who might you two be?” Mina let out an auditory gasp, rushing to explain herself. She quickly bowed down as she talked as quickly as she could.
“Moon Goddess Tsukuyomi! We're so sorry for the intrusion! We didn't mean to cause any trouble! We-” Mina's rambles were interrupted by Hikari's soft chuckle.
“It's just Hikari, little dragon. There's no need to worry about formalities” Her gaze traveled towards the brunette, who looked at her with a curious head tilt. Hikari smiled and continued.
“I am the Moon Goddess Tsukuyomi Hikari. This little star here is my friend! Care to introduce yourselves?”
“Excuse us Lady Hikari…How can that star be your friend? It's just a rock” Hikari chuckled and shook her head.
“Oh foolish hatchlings, you’re mistaken! Have you never heard of the folktales regarding the stars?” The two dragons gave each other curious glances before they turned back to the goddess, and shook their heads.
The goddess gently tapped your star form and it quickly turned into your regular body. Tangled hair, eyebags, scars covered every inch of your skin–even the parts that your haori covered– and tear filled eyes. Hikari offered her hand to help you stand, you took it and got up as gracefully as you could. You bowed down before the dragons. Hikari clapped her hands and a few clouds emerged from the night sky.
“Sit” She stopped when she saw the bewildered stares the two dragons were giving her. You decide to speak, your voice sounding soft from lack of use.
“They're solid…” Your voice trailed off before you could say anything else, the two dragons hesitated but sat down with you next to them. You soon noticed that you were sitting so close with Mina that her wings wrapped around your side and your legs touched. She felt warm, and in your mortal form you felt yourself freezing even more.
You find yourself completely zoning out, eyes fluttering shut by Mina's side. Your night was an emotional rollercoaster, it left you tired. You tried to suppress a yawn as you softly leaned against Mina. She tensed before her shoulders slowly relaxed, while softly combing her fingers through your hair she hums. You feel your face heat up at her soft touch, everything she did was so elegant, it made you feel both insecure and enamored.
Dragons were known to be brash creatures, creatures that were violent and selfish yet these two… You've never seen such beauty up close, you've never seen such elegance. The way they fly through the sky, their outfits and demeanor struck up insecurities that were supposed to be long forgotten. At least according to Hikari. How could you still remember this sense of dread every time you looked at their sweet smiles? You tensed up slightly but didn't make an attempt to move away from Mina. 
Although your insecurities were making your stomach tie into a knot, this was your opportunity to escape this prison. You glanced up at Hikari who softly smiled at you, then you turned towards the two dragons, their beautiful eyes were focused on you, you felt small in their presence and not only because they were taller and more muscular than the average human. You concluded that you just must be out of touch, hence the random insecurities you were supposed to leave behind. 
Hikari seemed to have sensed your awkwardness and spoke up.
“What brings you here, young dragons?” Her voice was stern yet she still had a welcoming smile on her lips. Her expression seemed like a doll’s, her smile was fake yet it still had the illusion of warmth. The dragons however seemed to sense the deceit in her grin, and glanced at each other with uncertainty.
“We were just flying through the sky and we decided to visit space! We are dragons so we figured it couldn't hurt and it'd be a great chance for us to stretch our wings!” The cherry blossom dragon spoke up.
“We flew towards…” She paused before she turned to you, her eyes had this untold fondness. She smiled at you before redirecting her attention to the midnight-haired Goddess.
“We flew towards them, we were close enough to see their glow and we decided to take a closer look-”
“Their glow is mesmerizing! We might've not been able to see it from earth but their beautiful blue glow is enchanting!” Mina –the golden dragon– rambled excitedly, her shimmering eyes made contact with yours and once again you wished you were free, just so you could fly just like her. 
It was a foolish dream to have, hope without meaning. You were never going to escape the midnight sky, the dull feeling slowly drowned you. It felt as though you were being pulled underneath the waves, no matter how hard you tried to fight back. 
Even if you were free you couldn't fly. No matter how much optimism you tried to have, you were still aware that without the moon Goddess’ powers or a flying creature with you, you'd fall flat on the ground. You'd die…or you'd hope you would at least.
You've tried putting a stop to the endlessness through cutting the strings of life, and yet Hikari always ‘coincidentally’ walked in right on time and ushered you to your bedroom. Those thoughts, truly, they never went away. Every second that passed, every minute, every hour, you missed being mortal. Every year that passed in this lonely abode in the sky made you descend deeper into despair and madness. Every night, you knew nothing would change. Even if it did, could you handle it? Could you handle changes that drastic as well as you claimed you could. 
A silent promise to yourself was sworn during the first night you shone your light upon this forsaken earth. A promise that no matter what happened you wouldn't give up until you got your happy ending, until you finally understood why you were here, why you couldn't just die. And yet all hope was slowly wilting away like the lands during the battle between humans and beasts. Everything was empty. There were screams from both sides, humans screamed, monsters did too and afterwards there was silence. Loud, deafening silence. 
You covered your ears back then, a desperate attempt to forget what had happened between monsters and humans. Between mythological creatures and their creators. And yet the silence grew louder and louder no matter how much you tried to prevent it from doing so. You screamed your lungs out that night, the night in which humans went extinct. The night you could never forget.
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prettyheartjournal · 2 months
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My Relationship With Music
I’ve been feeling a lot of pain over the last few days…feeling like a failure in a deep way…just broken and a sense that I’m done. I mean that within I am irreparable. My parenting is quite fucked up and it was far from my intention. In some ways I’m very good, over-sacrificing, in other ways I am a major train wreck and I am finding it hard to come to terms with it all. Now and then it emerges and I remember that deep within i feel beyond hope.
The funny thing is that I do know that God/Goddess does really love me and that seems to be the one thing that pulls me out of this despair. I think that if God loves me still well I am surely allowed to love myself? I am not beyond love and understanding. That part of me is like a part in death - the part that feels like I have fucked up so badly that it’s really all just finished…
But I felt this from a long time ago…my virginity was taken manipulatively and against my will by a man 6 years older when I was 15. From that moment on I felt inwardly destroyed. But I have and still blame myself for that and I think that that sense of powerlessness and inability to protect myself causes the self-loathing. That’s how abuse damages - more than the direct physical or psychological harm, is how it distorts the relationship you have with yourself.
Anyway this inner hopelessness is what I have been processing for the last few days. It needs healing, I know that…otherwise it’s like being a vessel with a crack in it that can’t hold anything. I have known for several years that the best thing I can do for the people I love is to love myself and as I grow that feeling inside, I am a better person, more able to give and feel kindness. It all starts within, everything is within…it just takes time and it takes these periods, like the past few days to feel some difficult emotions (and that is a whole thing in itself) and by doing so to mend just that little bit more.
What often happens as I am going through a healing period is that a song will just come into my thoughts. It’s really amazing because somehow it will evoke important emotions connected with the healing. It can’t always be understood logically but it can help to either relive past feelings or specifically trigger deeper feelings.
Music is very much an emotional/psychological/spiritual thing to me. The technical quality of a song is not always relevant, it’s more about the emotional journey and that is not necessarily relatable to anyone else. It’s funny because I can be really crazy about a song and if I share it with another person, you can see the blank expression in their eyes, it’s actually very frustrating even though understandable, lol. I think the frustration comes from a longing to be felt and understood - one of my themes! Lol
Anyway, so I have been trying to work with the pain of being an irreparable entity of breakage and the song ‘The Ghost In You’ by the Psychedelic Furs comes floating quite kindly and jollyingly into my mind. This takes me back to being about 18 and brings up lots of mixed feelings , bitter sweet really…
Here’s another, with that mixed Psychedelic Furs, going Pop kind of thing, but with pleasant melodies, some joy and as always, sadness…
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alls-fair-in-war · 2 years
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Benjamin was working his ‘day job’ when it happened. An Eclipse that made every hair stand up and drove his instincts into overdrive. His own magic mixed with the War Aura of Ares that one of the windows cracked under pressure and he let out a wave of fear strong enough to make every one else in the room with him cower. 
Making his escape, he heads to the roof to get a better view before asking, “What the fuck is that about?” 
“Not sure. But it’s bound to be interesting...” Ares replied with a smirk. 
His definition of interesting wasn’t quite on par with the god’s, but didn’t say anything. Benjamin cancelled all up coming meetings, not sure if he’d have time. There was another celestial event, which had Hermes zooming through all the Avatars to alert them that a meeting of the gods would be called. Arriving at the Empire State Building, he walked along side Athena’s Avatar as they both arrived at the same time. They simply nodded to one another, he’s not surprised that both war deities brought in near each other, before heading up towards the 600th floor. 
The meeting was very much what he expected. Zeus explaining, though mostly to Artemis, what was going on. He piped in, asking that given how Osirus played a big part, if Hades shouldn’t be included here, but Zeus dismissed it. 
Once they were dismissed, he went back to his place in London, doing his best to ignore Ares. 
“We can’t not be at the forefront of this. Whatever’s going on, the Egyptians aren’t as active as they used to be. We are. For the sake of this fucked planet, go to Egypt.” 
“No,” Benjamin growled out. “You know how you get in certain places. War too close, and territory not yours. It’s a recipe for disaster.” 
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“If not for me..for Artemis’ Avatar. She was pissed. Rightfully so. The sky is shared. Even Apollo for as lazy as he can be, always makes sure to drag that oversize fireball when it’s in his lane. Heh, minus when he pissed off dear ole dad and got grounded.” Ares’ snickered. 
Benjamin ignored the snipe Ares had towards his relationship with the other gods and focused on the actual important fact. Honor played a huge role with godly figures. And even if he wanted to deny he wasn’t curious as to what was really going on, and that he’d rather be in the know, than be surprised by possible catastrophe. He sighed before tapping into his magic to return everything to its proper place as he reached for his go-bag. 
“She’s the goddess of the hunt as well as the moon. Pissed off, she’s bound to track down Khonshu’s Avatar and hunt him...guess I should try to get to them first.” 
@wasian-invasion​ 
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hangezoeenthusiast · 3 years
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God(hcs)
c!multiple x god!reader
notes: the reader will be the god of death to make it a little bit more spicy :). c!punz’s pronouns are he/they, i’m not sure about the others, but i know theirs. also why does ranboo take away my gender? /j
word count: 1,672
warnings: arson, violence, cursing, yelling, mention of death, voices in technos part, spoilers for wilbur if you haven’t watch tommy’s lore stream, revival for wilbur, making a religion, time travel, egg, prison, stealing, anarchy, playful name calling
Sapnap
so obviously y’all would be a great match :)
you have creative mode, so when sap would ask you to give him a lighter and tnt, you would GLADLY give it
also, can we talk about him being a nether hybrid
fire squared
like fires left and right, hide your mom and your children in your house lol /j
but besides the whole arson thing, you favor him above anyone else on the server
like if he asks for diamond blocks, well here’s a whole inventory of it, also, here’s some ancient debris and some netherite
if someone asked, you would probably grant them with poison and curses, just because you can’t be “unloyal” to snapchat 
wouldn’t be lonely anymore
Dreamwastaken
this duo is less chaotic, but chaotic enough where people avoid you
he still asks you for stuff, but most of the time, you don’t give him it because he annoys you too much about giving stuff
“hey y/n/n, can i pretty please get some emerald blocks.”
“nope bitch, get it yourself.”
but sometimes, you grant him some op shit, when it’s your good day
“because i’m being nice, here’s some diamond, now, don’t ask me again you little piss baby.”
“shut your trap y/n.”
“or what homeless teletubby, what are you going to do to a god like me?”
“you hang out with technoblade to much.”
Georgenotfound
maybe the least chaotic duo
you guys keep on relaxing and relaxing until the point where you don’t do anything
he barely asks you for anything, but only when it’s really really important, like a house or build
especially when he was building his little cottagecore house, he needed your godly presence to help
“y/n, what should the roof be made of?”
“i suggest brick, it makes it more aestheticy if that makes any sense.”
also barely any drama or tea with you guys
never arguing and never betraying each other is a must
Tubbo
also another least chaotic duo
literally help him with his bee farm, he will (platonically) love you forever
gotta be close to ranboo, that’s the rule
gives him SO much stuff, he’s a precious boi 🙄
also gotta be close to tommy, but not as much unfortunately
you help him pick out things for builds, like what material clashes with another, etc
“do you think that the wool and the netherite blocks look good together y/n?”
“nah, what i suggest is the wool with the gold, it looks perfect.”
sometiems, gotta put him in check because he gets a little ego built up
you definitely yank his horn a little too hard because of your IMMENSE STRENGTH
“OW, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT Y/N.”
“calm down sunny, you were just getting a bit over your head a little.”
Tommyinnit
chaotic duo like sapnap
snaps at anyone who annoys you and vice versa
you give him EVERYTHING, obviously except op and creative
he tries to persuade you to do something, but dreamxd wouldn’t allow it, since he is the main boss
“come on y/n, give me op.”
“no tommy, xd will kick my ass.”
“pweaseee.”
“no.”
you would DEFINITELY help him with the Big Innit Hotel, making the whole layout and color palette.
both of you have an intense hatred for ranboo, since he “stole” tubbo away from tommy
Ranboo
least involved in everything
just stay in the tundra and drink some tea, and you’re good for all of your life
helps him get netherite all the time so your boii can get the good stuff 😬
when he mines to get diamonds, he literally prays to you
“y/n, if you’re listening, please give me a 6 vein, i desperately need it for my collection of diamond blocks.”
and THERE IT IS
more than a 6 vein actually, a 12 vein
guess he needs to pray to you more
daily tea sessions, to talk about the good stuff, and NO, and i repeat NO skipping
threatening to flick water on him check ✅
Wilbur Soot
literally you spoil him
not to be angsty, but when he died and lost his last canon life, you revived him instead of Dream
now he’s practically at your knees
like he’s thinks that he owes you, but actually that’s the opposite
he was revived because you were lonely, and wanted your best friend back :(
prays to you when he goes to bed
“hey y/n, hope you’re having a great day, (platonically) love you.”
“love you too mortal.”
sometimes, to be at the peak of godness, you shower upon wilbur as gold to symbolize blessings, like zeus did before
“omg y/n, what are you doing?”
“i’m trying to bless you, shut up bitch.”
just saying, he would make a religion about you :/
Karl Jacobs
omg don’t get me started on this
first, you wouldn’t codone him going back in time
he would definitely forget your name a lot, so that’s why you hated it
“hey karl, how are you doing?”
“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”
ANGST IS TOO MUCH FOR ME
you were definitely the one to push him towards sapnap and quackity
this is also another spoiled boi
give him the entire world while you’re at it pwease
he wants a few diamonds, nope, give him a chest full of them
Quackity
why are there so much chaotic duos in here?
literally chaos times infinity
energy to the max
literally, did you take an energy drink
grants him every wish he can randomly think off
“can i get a bucket with lava and a fish in it?”
“weird choice, but ok man.”
gotta be close to sap and karl or he isn’t your friend anymore /j
helps with las nevadas a lot, and definitely tries to rig the machines so you get money
“hey big q, i got 10,000 dollars.”
“that’s impossible... y/n, did you cheat?”
“nooo 😊”
help him preen his wings, and he goes “I LOVE YOU, MWAH MWAH.” obviously in his mind 🙄
Awesamdude
definitely helps him maintain the prison
you both love setting up red stone contraptions and pistons and all that giz
“hey sam, do you know where the redstone torches are?”
“yeah, there behind the pistons in the back.”
also you helped build the prison, since he could do that by himself
“are you sure that lava wall will work y/n, your calculations seem inaccurate.”
“i’m sure sam, this will add some more security to this goddamn server.”
nerd squared lol
BadBoyHalo
wouldn’t condone the egg
you warned him multiple times to get away from its grasp, but most of the times he’ll decline
“i won’t y/n, the egg is the future.”
he still, even after all the advancements, even after everything, he tries to ask you to join the eggpire
“come on y/n, you’ll like being with us.”
“i don’t wanna be on a stupid egg side, like let me crack the egg, i wanna eat it and turn it into a omelette.”
he doesn’t like that joke :(
but before he discovered the egg, both of you were joint at the hip
sight seeing was a must
languages being thrown around everywhere, since you were the little language muffin
Punz
steals stuff from everyone
hide your stuff, because the punzo-y/n team is unstoppable
definitely they can be really stubborn and indecisive
like one day, he will be like, “i need gold blocks.” and the next, “nevermind, i need netherite actually.”
like hon, stop switching
also anarchy buddies
burning down forests and buildings are your guys’s specialty
when you give him gold when they doesn’t ask, his heart goes brrr and his brain goes, “pog pog, they’re so cool, lets hug them.”
Technoblade
now this is the most deadly duo in the entire Dream Smp
better not piss you guys off 😐
he’s the Blood God, and you’re the God/Goddess/God being of Death
so if some occasion where you need to battle someone, like Techno’s enemies, *clears throat and murmurs Quackity*, you will obviously back your boy up :)
help him with enchanting and potions and he’s set for life
also you got have to be close to the great Philza Minecraft since him and Techno are buddy buddy
anarchy squared
helps with the voices since you have some of your own
“so what you’re saying is that i need to pay attention to them?”
“yeah, when i first learned that the voices were in my head, i tried to ignore them, but that sucked. so what i did was try to distract myself with various tasks, and that sucked.”
“so what do i do, you’re saying that i should listen to them, but how do i do that when they literally shout at me.”
“just embrace it, obviously when they do their little chant of blood for the blood god, you have to ignore them.”
“you suck at advice.”
Philza Minecraft
so since both of you resemble death, him being the Angel of Death and you being the God/Goddess/God being of Death, y’all are fucking best friends, platonic soulmates if you will
death squared
watch out, because if you piss them off, prepare to d-
gotta be close to Ranboo and Techno, and obviously others who he platonically likes
he doesn’t need to ask you for stuff, he’s the fricking Angel of Death, but he will ask you to preen his wings :D
“ow, not there y/n.”
“oh shut up grandpa, let me do it.”
“I’M NOT OLD DUMBASS.”
Dream XD
two gods at once, damn there is so much chaos
left and right, you guys are noticed by everyone, like purrrr
y’all would be in some fancy shit, to show your power
you would get jealous of him hanging out with george
“why are you jealous y/n?”
“you’re hanging out with george to much, hang out with me please :(.”
gifts are a must, even though both of you have access to creative
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cloudninetonine · 2 years
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I have more thoughts, but first I wanna thank you for indulging in my crack mind, so thanks! I don’t expect fics, and I just enjoy expanding and creating more concepts since they’re vague and allow more creativity to flow in. Blasphemous, but have some Sympathetic Hylia agenda. I was thinking about the implications in the lore and manga. Hylia is canonically a goddess only in name. She didn’t create life, the worlds or anything; all of that falls under Din, Nayru, and Farore. Her only purpose was to protect the triforce, which she fails in doing so. I think that affected her in being more callous and cold. She can’t afford to fail even though her failure seemed almost unavoidable. She can’t use the triforce against a demo lord, and in the manga she’s looked down and isn’t exactly believed by others about what will occur with demons taking the land, which kinda makes since(but if an celestial being told me demons were gonna come then i would listen) The bond between The golden goddess seems very detached, as long as the triforce is protected and safe then everything is okay, not accounting for the lives of land they built. All the gods & goddesses are pretty apathetic to the pleas of people, and it’s surprising that Hylia even tries to save them, but I guess she got pretty attached to her “home” // Yandere starts when you fall into not-hyrule yet and meet the repressed and awkward first! link from the manga. Not yet chosen by Hylia, and you bond with this not hero guy, and he mostly bonds with you out of pity because clearly you’re just beggar who hit her head and starting spouting nonsense, probably insane, and it's also spreading because clearly this isn’t a logical choice, but Link has never a person of logic. You meet Hylia while wandering in this soon to be apocalyptic world (honestly imaging a large crack in ground as the Demise and his demon begin their conquest and quite literally come from the depths of hell to take over) and Hylia is attempt to spread word without being “do not be afraid” but it hasn’t really worked yet. You accidentally blurt out “Zelda” confusing her, since clearly she is not this “Zelda”. Hylia, in my opinion, isn’t exactly the brightest, but she tries her best. Link and Hylia meet, bonds grow, and life goes to hell when Link is left to rot in the dungeons, changing him to a more colder and repressed man. Hylia is more desperate and growing more tired and frustrated that everything against Demise is proving to be futile. The one person who seems to keep together is you, but their love is stifling and you're starting to forget why you’re even here—why are you even here? You bleakley realize that your fantasy life isn’t very great and that you might die or be stuck in this well intended gilded cage by your loved ones. You create, indirectly and unknowingly, an ocarina as a self indulgent gift that gets blessed by Nayru: the ocarina of time. In the end, you die and everything is futile, or you thought before you woke up. Regret is strong as you recall the fact that 1) you died 2) your love ended in bitterness and hatred 3) you’re apparently alive while your lovers aren’t. You never did find out why you were there in the first place either. Bittersweet, but Hylia thinks “Zelda” as name because you called her that, or “Lia” affectionately before your relationship turned cold and bitter.
Now I have an au for tethered au called Replaced hero/kill the hero au. You do get reincarnation but you look nothing like you first did, so imagine the angst and shock and relief when you walk around and see a link with a copy of yourself that hylian, and then they walk past you, never looking back. Maybe you were never enough. Sure you look nothing like you used to, but your ears are still round and maybe you do behave differently but you died! How can anyone behave the same after going through something like that? dirven hy spite you decided to fuck it and give hylia a piece of mind by taking and venting on her incarceration: Zelda… only to attached when you realize both of you have been abandoned by the same person. You take the place of the hero, while confusing him because where was his journey? only to forget because his “goddess” was next to him and took priority. Hylia is smug, but also internally panicking because who the hell is this odd human? You and Zelda are busy flirting and ignoring the fact that you were originally planning to kill her. It’s going to be a bit of a shock to both the Chain and Hylia, because if that's you then who are the “(y/n)”?
IT'S NO PROBLEM I LOVE PEOPLE SHARING THEIR IDEAS!
@yandere-linked-universe Because I gotta tag you for this stuff.
I love the concept of the Player (If you're not talking about the Player I apologise!) being a basic kick-starter to the story! A voice of reason for those who are losing to it! After all, it's just a game, right? Maybe the Player is just here to get the show going, help Hylia, help the hero, help Hyrule! Right?
But then it starts to get....dark.
The first hero had experienced a traumatic experience like no other. Their Goddess is now just a former husk of herself, this isn't supposed to happen, right?
They're up in the sky now, cold, tired, watching the clouds below as people weep In the background. Hyrule is lost, they're now on what will later be dubbed Skyloft and Hylia is just distant. All you really have now is your Ocarina.
You die,
But then you're not dead.
Thus begins the events of the Replaced Hero.
Honestly I love it!
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