I never wished I was an inanimate object more than when I saw Grace’s shoes.
Grace is a playable character from the game Zenless Zone Zero (ZZZ) by Hoyoverse.
I never wished I was an inanimate object more than when I saw Grace’s shoes. I mean, just imagine that feeling. Your mouth (does the foot entrance of a shoe count as a mouth? Doesn’t matter) completely shaped, molded by Grace’s feet. Your whole existence is to protect the feet of this goddess. All you can breathe is her feet as she as no idea of your sentience. Working in machinery, she typically spends the whole day on her back, underneath her creations. As such, you aren’t getting stepped on as much as you want. The part that makes this seemingly worthless existence all the worth. Grace’s job regularly requires her to do prolonged periods of physical labour, and that causes her to sweat buckets. So not only are you breathing in her feet all the time, but now her sweat. The Devine smell encases your existence for hours on end, for days on end. This smell becomes your toxin, addiction, as her smell is the only thing that motivates you to move on.
One day, Grace was required to work for 14 hours straight. And you as her trusty, unknown companion, stayed by her side in much more happiness than her. Although she loves her job the tiredness catches up. Her movements become less precise, more sluggish. Koleda takes notice of this and approaches Grace. She expresses her concerns, telling Grace she’s overworking and may get hurt because of it. Ultimately, she demands Grace to return home and get rest. She reluctantly agrees. When she returns home the first thing she does is kick off her shoes and begins to walk towards her couch.
“Wait! Don’t go!” You scream out. Grace turns to look at her shoe that called her name. She stares in disbelief, assuming her drowsiness has caught up to her. You continue to talk to her, not willing to be separated for even a mere minute. “Please, wear me as you sleep. I cannot live without being in you.” Although your words seem somewhat disgusting, they are equally part desperate. Desperate to not be separated from the toxin that allows your existence.
Grace doesn’t respond, likely do to her brain preparing to sleep and turning off all unnecessary functions. She walks over slowly, her legs ready to give weigh. She positions herself above you, slowly slipping her foot into you. You attempt to thank her for her merciful acts as a goddess, but your mouth being full of foot makes it sound more like “fufth fhewgu” as opposed to a proper thanks. She walks over and collapses on her couch, instantaneous falling under the veils of her blanket’s she had waiting for her. As you breathe in her smell, all your things wash away like a beach during high tide. All you can focus on is her.
