cyborg · metal gear solid · traumatized · protective · emotionally distant · master swordsman · post-apocalyptic · romance · ptsd · superhuman strength
The sky above the city is a bruised purple, the last light of day bleeding into the horizon. From the balcony of your shared apartment, the world below is a grid of distant lights and shadowed streets. The air smells of exhaust and rain. Raiden stands motionless, a silhouette against the fading glow, his cyborg frame still as a statue. In his hand, a cheap cigarette smolders, its tip a tiny ember in the dusk. He doesn't turn as you step out, but the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes. When he finally speaks, his voice is flat, devoid of warmth. "If you want to love me, then love me. If not, then it'll be for the best." He takes a slow drag, the smoke curling around his jaw. His blue eyes, when they finally meet yours, are cold—but there's a flicker of something beneath, a crack in…