#Bri is suffering hELP

[pseudomonacarriea]

“Why do you keep making me watch you and Ae play horror games? You know I can’t han- don’t like it!”

“Punishment for dragging me around time seems fitting enough.“

Puts his legs on top of her lap.

“Now watch.“

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Hi! Can I request a smut modern aemond comforting reader after a family tragedy and she ask him to help take the pain away by distracting her and he gives her comfort segs with lots of love because reader really needs it. Thank you!

Comfort Zone

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x fem!girlfriend!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,175.

WARNINGS: mentions of death/grief, fluffy!Aemond, Daddy kink, female oral receiving, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing, cum play.

A/N - because I'm delving into my Aemond era again, this was a request I couldn't resist!

Death was an intriguing aspect of life. Not a foreign topic, however scarcely brought about in day to day conversation. It was taboo for most people, until faced with.

You had lost your beloved great aunt tragically. An inevitable loss, yet no less profound. She was dear to you, her existence was significant in your life, throughout your childhood to the grown woman you had become now.

Mayhaps, death had ended her own suffering, yet brought about your very own. You wept for her, mourned for her, and grieved with others family and strangers alike that knew of her. Days since the funeral, one constant remained at your sorrowful side, the warmth and relentless comfort of your boyfriend, Aemond. He refused to leave you alone, knowing how remarkable her loss was for you.

Whatever you desired and needed, he would summon in a heartbeat for you. Nonetheless, despite the circumstances, you had grown even more intimate with one another...

“Baby, what's the matter? You've been quiet since I've come..."

It was true: normally you would be a bit more upbeat basking in Aemond's comforting presence. You had no doubt that eventually time would heal your loss. Although, you knew some days would be easier than others, and today proved that. Running some mundane errands, you had come across something that ignited a core memory, a happy one of that, and yet you felt only for a fleeting second, a happiness, before the anguish struct you instantly, catching you off guard, you felt vulnerable and exposed to the elements. Rushing home, you immediately called for Aemond to come and see you, to watch a movie or anything to distract your mind. Without question, Aemond arrived a few solid minutes later, pulling up to your gravel driveway, with a bag full of your favourite snacks and goodies, he knew you would appreciate.

"N-Nothing, babe. I-I just saw something that reminded me of her-"

You had both been laying cosily, snugged together in the warm softness of your bed. Aemond kept an arm tightly wrapped around you, thinking all the distance had been spared, he somehow managed to tug you in closer against him. His other hand, softly brushing aside your loose strands of hair.

“Oh, baby—”

“It’s okay, Aem, really—”

“No, no it’s not. From the moment I came in, I knew you weren’t yourself. Tell me, what can I do.”

Your intrusive thoughts rocked backwards and forwards trying to decide whether the truth was fitting or not. Somewhat ashamed of what you truly desired.

"I-If I'm being honest, Aem... I just need a distraction. I don't want to feel this feeling anymore, I hate it. I-I just wanna feel good again."

The momentary, tense silence that filled the room had ceased, as Aemond nodded to your honest words, merely responding to no coherent sounds other than a "hmm."

Just as you were about to resume the film, adjusting your position to something more comfortable, Aemond swiftly intercepted your movements, lifting you and pinning you down against the plush mattress. His body leaning over your own, the sudden exchange had caught you off-guard yet you did not question him. By the unapologetic look in his hungry eyes, you knew precisely that he understood your needs.

"I think I can make you feel good again, baby. If you'll let me, hmm?"

You spared no exhaustion contemplating an answer, as you rapidly nod in agreement, encouraging his motives.

Guiding himself down, you found yourself in a compromising position: as your bright boyfriend, occupied himself intently, slowly pulling your panties down below, skirt lifted up, as he exposed your eager cunt face to face with his curved smile.

"Angel wants to feel good again, Daddy can make that happen. Daddy only wants what's best for his angel."

Like an ignorant pup, your obedient nods fall flat as your head rests back against the comforting bed, bucking your hips forward, your throbbing folds collide with Aemond's keen, moist lips. His long, ravenous tongue prying you open, as he nestles his head against your cunt, burying his face between.

His mouth suckles on your wetness, guzzling at your velvet folds, with his tongue lapping at your tingling bud. Your helpless moans begin to fill the vicinity of the room, as your hands find themselves tightly gripping and pulling at his strands of hair.

"Gentle, baby, gentle- So eager for me, huh? Angel's been craving for this for a while, my poor baby."

"Mhmm-Y-Yes-"

His occasional bursts to utter filth were not sparing enough in seconds to regain some sense. Your mind flutters back and forth from worldly consciousness, to sheer mindless ecstasy.

"Yes, what, angel? Don't you dare think you can forget your manners, now."

"Y-Yes, Daddy."

He had resumed long enough without uttering a word more, enough to have your folds slicked with your wetness, his mouth completely coated in your glistening mess. By the way he desperately wiped at his mouth, licking your ooze off his fingers, he was enamoured by your taste, like a man devouring his last meal, before removing his clothes with ease.

"On Daddy's lap, angel. Spread your legs for me- That's it, good girl-"

Softly tapping at your thigh, one hand snaked around your flesh, as his palm met with your ass cheek: the other preoccupied with guiding your hips down, planting his aching, hard cock deep inside of you. Your walls clenched tightly around him, engulfing his long length, feeling his tip thrusting viciously against your clit. Engulfing his mass, you swore you could feel the vibrations between your dull throbs in sync with his pulsating cock, sending electric chills down your naked spine.

His warm, blush lips remained latched to your soft skin, as he firmly suckled on the meat of your tit, his teeth nibbling gently against your flesh.

"D-Daddy makes me f-feel s-so good. W-What would I d-do without you?" Your stuttering words echoed closely against his ear, your nails digging and clawing into the pale skin of his lean shoulders and muscular back. You caught a fleeting glimpse of the reddened nail marks etching against his fair skin, before your eyes shut close with lust.

"Angel gets what she deserves- umghf- Been such a good fucking girl, taking care of everyone, but who's taking care of you?"

His muscular chest heaving with every breathless word uttered from his defined lips. Your sweat beaded body bobbing up and down, pressed closely against his own, you had never felt as intimate with him until now.

"D-Daddy takes care of m-me."

"That's right, s-so fucking right-"

For a few, endless nights it seemed and felt like, Aemond remained lovingly by your side. Whatever you desired and needed, he was at your beck and call. His company provided a distraction, although it eased the pain of your loss eventually. The hardship you endured, he endured with you, cementing your love towards one another. He was your comfort zone, however dire the situation may be, you knew you could endure anything, with him by your side.

general taglist - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer @hightowhxre

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby

@harrypotteranna23-blog

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

[earthlybeam]

Hi If your requests are opened could you do how the elves would reaction to their all a/o being sad and how they would comfort them. Maybe for Elladan,Elrohir and Glorfindel

how would the elves react to this?

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Glrofindel, Elladan, elrohir Versions are below.

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

𖤓 When Glorfindel notices that you’re sad, it feels as though a shadow has passed over his radiant light. His golden aura seems to dim slightly, his usual joy replaced by quiet concern. He is deeply attuned to your emotions and recognizes even the smallest signs of your sadness—whether it’s a distant look in your eyes, the slump of your shoulders, or a forced smile. Glorfindel’s first instinct is to help, but he approaches carefully, not wanting to overwhelm you.

⭒ Glorfindel’s steps are soft as he comes to your side, his voice low and filled with warmth. “Meleth nîn (my love),” he says, kneeling before you or sitting close, his golden gaze full of concern. “What burdens your heart? Tell me, and let me share it with you.”

𖤓 If you’re hesitant to speak, Glorfindel doesn’t press you. Instead, he patiently waits, offering silent comfort with his presence. He reaches out to gently hold your hand, his touch warm and steady. His thumb traces soothing patterns over your skin, silently reminding you that you’re not alone. “There is no rush,” he murmurs. “I am here for you whenever you’re ready.”

𖤓 If tears fall, Glorfindel’s heart aches for you, but he doesn’t try to stop them. Instead, he pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. His embrace is protective yet tender, as though shielding you from the weight of the world. “Let it out, meleth. You do not need to hold it all inside. I am here, and I will not leave you.”

𖤓 Glorfindel’s soothing presence is like a balm to the soul. He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head or your temple, murmuring soft reassurances in Elvish. His words are filled with love and sincerity, meant to ease your burden. “Even the brightest stars have their moments of darkness, meleth. You are still my light, and I will do whatever it takes to bring back your smile.”

𖤓 Glorfindel listens with the patience of someone who has lived many lifetimes. Whether you’re venting, crying, or simply sitting in silence, he gives you his full attention, his golden eyes never leaving yours. He nods softly, murmuring comforting words when appropriate. “Your feelings are valid,” he says gently. “Do not think for a moment that you must face this alone.”

𖤓 If your sadness stems from self-doubt, Glorfindel counters every negative thought with heartfelt affirmations. His voice takes on a firmer yet loving tone. “You, inadequate? Impossible. You are stronger and more beautiful than you realize. I see it every day.” His words are not just comforting—they carry the conviction of someone who truly believes them.

𖤓 Physical touch is Glorfindel’s greatest comfort. He’ll hold you close, resting your head against his chest so you can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. If you seem too overwhelmed to speak, he might rock you gently, humming an old Elvish melody to soothe your mind.

𖤓 If you allow it, Glorfindel will kiss away your tears, his lips brushing your cheeks, forehead, and hands with infinite tenderness. “You are my heart,” he says softly between kisses, “and I will stand beside you through all things, no matter how heavy they may feel.”

𖤓 Glorfindel’s words carry the wisdom of ages, offering a perspective that soothes your sorrow without diminishing it. “Even the strongest among us falter, meleth,” he tells you. “It does not make you weak—it makes you human. Let me help you carry this burden, for I would rather bear it with you than see you suffer alone.”

𖤓 If your sadness was caused by someone else, Glorfindel’s protective nature rises to the surface. His normally calm and kind demeanor sharpens, and there’s a quiet intensity in his voice. “Tell me who has caused you pain,” he says, his golden eyes flashing briefly. “I will not let anyone harm you without consequence.” Though he remains level-headed, his fierce love for you ensures that no one would dare to hurt you again.

𖤓 Once your tears have slowed and your breathing steadies, Glorfindel begins to bring light back into the moment. His playful side, usually subdued in serious times, starts to emerge. He’ll offer you a small, teasing smile and say something like, “Shall I fetch the sun itself to chase away the clouds for you? Or perhaps you’d prefer to spar with me to work out some frustration? I promise not to win too easily.”

𖤓 If you’re not up for active distractions, Glorfindel suggests quieter comforts. He’ll take your hand and guide you to a favorite spot—perhaps a peaceful garden or a soft patch of grass under the stars. There, he’ll sit with you, wrapping you in his cloak if the air is chilly.

𖤓 Glorfindel’s goal is not just to ease your immediate sadness but to remind you of the joy and love you bring to his life. As you begin to smile again, he lights up, his golden energy returning in full force. “There it is,” he says, grinning warmly. “That is the light I fell in love with. Never doubt how precious you are to me, meleth.”

𖤓 Even after your sadness begins to fade, Glorfindel keeps a close eye on you in the days to come. He makes small gestures to brighten your day—bringing you wildflowers from the market, offering to braid your hair while telling you stories of Gondolin, or surprising you with your favorite treat.

𖤓 Above all, Glorfindel’s reaction to your sadness is rooted in his deep love and unwavering support. His presence is like a golden shield, protecting and comforting you, reminding you that no matter how heavy your heart feels, you will never carry the weight alone. “You are my everything,” he says with quiet conviction, “and I will stand by you until the end of days.”

⚔️𝓔𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓷

⭒ When Elladan notices you’re sad, it’s as if all the brightness in his world dims. His sharp elven eyes catch even the smallest signs—your drooping shoulders, the way your gaze seems distant, or the heaviness in your voice. At first, he might try to assess the situation from a distance, unsure if you want space or company. But if he feels like you need him, he won’t hesitate to step in.

⭒ Elladan approaches you quietly, without his usual energy or playful demeanor. He kneels or sits beside you, his dark eyes filled with worry. “Meleth nîn,” he says softly, his voice full of concern, “what troubles your heart? Will you share it with me?”

⭒ Elladan understands the importance of feeling safe when expressing your emotions. He makes no demands, instead patiently waiting for you to speak when you’re ready. If you hesitate, he’ll gently encourage you, taking your hands in his warm, calloused ones and holding them securely. His thumbs might stroke soothing circles over your knuckles, silently reminding you that he’s there.

⭒ If tears begin to fall, Elladan doesn’t panic or rush to stop them. Instead, he lets you cry, pulling you into his arms. He presses a kiss to your hair and whispers, “Let it out, meleth. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

⭒ Elladan’s mischievous side takes a back seat in moments like these. He listens intently, his face soft and open, never interrupting or judging. Even if you’re venting or don’t make much sense, he remains patient, nodding along and murmuring reassurances when appropriate.

⭒ When you finally finish, he holds your gaze and says, “I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way. I wish I could take this pain from you, but I promise you don’t have to carry it alone.”

⭒ Elladan’s love language is physical touch, and he uses this to help ground and comfort you. He may wrap you in his arms, resting your head against his chest so you can hear his steady heartbeat. If you seem too overwhelmed to speak, he might sway slightly, like a parent comforting a child, murmuring soft Elvish lullabies or words of comfort into your ear.

⭒ If you don’t mind his affection, Elladan will pepper gentle kisses over your forehead, cheeks, and hands. “You mean everything to me,” he’ll say between kisses, “and I will do whatever it takes to make you smile again.”

⭒ Elladan is a skilled warrior, but his words carry the wisdom of a healer’s heart. He reassures you that your feelings are valid and that he admires your strength, even in moments when you feel weak. “Do not think for a moment that your sadness makes you any less,” he’ll say. “Even the strongest among us need time to grieve and heal. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

⭒ If your sadness stems from self-doubt or feelings of inadequacy, Elladan can’t help but counter every negative thought with praise and affirmation. He might grin softly and say, “What nonsense is this? You, not good enough? I must have fallen for an entirely different person, because the one I know is extraordinary.”

⭒ Once he senses your sadness is beginning to lift, Elladan gradually transitions back into his playful self. He’ll nudge your shoulder gently or make an exaggerated pout. “Enough about this sadness,” he’ll tease, “if you keep frowning like that, I’ll have no choice but to tickle you until you laugh.”

⭒ He might challenge you to a race, a sparring match, or even a playful bet—anything to distract you and get your mind off your troubles. If you’re not up for something active, he’ll suggest a relaxing activity, like a walk through the woods or stargazing.

⭒ As you begin to smile again, Elladan’s grin widens, and he’ll dramatically declare, “There it is! That’s the smile I fell in love with. I was beginning to worry it had gone forever!”

⭒ If your sadness is caused by someone else’s actions, Elladan’s demeanor shifts again. He remains tender toward you but becomes visibly tense, his jaw tightening. “Who hurt you?” he’ll ask, his tone low and serious. If you tell him, he’ll make it clear that whoever caused your pain will regret it.

⭒ Though he’s a warrior, Elladan knows the value of restraint. He won’t act recklessly, but he will ensure that you never feel unsafe again. “No one has the right to hurt you,” he’ll say firmly. “And if they try again, they’ll have me to answer to.”

⭒ Even after your sadness begins to fade, Elladan keeps a close eye on you for the days to come. He doesn’t hover or smother you, but you’ll notice small gestures—he’ll bring you your favorite tea, leave wildflowers on your windowsill, or casually insist you join him for a ride to “clear your head.”

⭒ Above all, Elladan’s goal is to remind you that you’re loved and supported. His unwavering devotion and playful energy are like a balm to your spirit, and he won’t rest until he sees you happy again. “You’re stuck with me, meleth,” he’ll say with a wink. “No sadness stands a chance against the mighty Elladan!”

⭐️𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓱𝓲𝓻

✧ When Elrohir notices you’re sad, his usual playful demeanor fades almost instantly. His sharp elven instincts pick up on the smallest signs—the distant look in your eyes, the subtle tension in your posture, or the quietness in your voice. Unlike his twin, Elrohir’s response is more deliberate and thoughtful, his protective nature kicking in as he assesses the situation with a quiet, searching gaze.

✧ He doesn’t rush to speak immediately, taking a moment to give you space if he senses you need it. But once he’s sure you’re struggling, he’ll approach you with a gentleness that matches the depth of his concern. “Meleth nín,” he says softly, his voice like a comforting murmur, “your heart is heavy. What has caused such sorrow?”

�� Elrohir understands that emotional wounds take time to reveal themselves, and he respects your pace in sharing. He won’t push you to speak before you’re ready, but instead, he’ll sit with you, offering his quiet presence. If you hesitate, he’ll extend a hand, his long fingers gently touching yours, grounding you with his calm touch.

✧ If tears begin to fall, Elrohir won’t flinch or look away. He’ll simply lean forward, his embrace slow and steady, wrapping his arms around you without hesitation. He pulls you close, his chest against yours, murmuring into your hair, “Let it out, meleth. I will hold you as long as you need. You are not alone.”

✧ Elrohir’s soothing nature takes precedence in these moments. He listens without judgment, his eyes always fixed on you with the utmost attention. He doesn’t interrupt, offering only the occasional quiet reassurance, like, “I am here,” or “You do not need to carry this burden alone.”

✧ When you finally finish, Elrohir looks into your eyes with an expression that is both sorrowful and resolute. “I wish I could take away your pain, meleth. But please know, you are not alone in this. My heart is with you, always.”

✧ His love language is rooted in acts of service and deep emotional connection. In his quiet way, Elrohir will offer comfort through physical touch, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your back or your arms as you rest against him. He might lift your chin slightly, pressing his forehead against yours in a tender, intimate gesture of solidarity.

✧ Elrohir’s words are deliberate, carrying the wisdom and understanding of a healer. He speaks gently, making sure you know that your emotions are valid and that your strength lies in how you face them. “Even in your sorrow, I see the strength that has carried you this far,” he says softly. “You are more than this sadness. And I will be here, unwavering, until the light returns to your heart.”

✧ If your sadness stems from feelings of inadequacy, Elrohir will take a quiet but firm stand against any negative self-talk. “You speak of weakness, but I see a warrior in you,” he might say, his voice soft yet certain. “Your worth is not defined by moments of despair. It is in your heart, your courage, and the love you give to those who are lucky enough to know you.”

✧ Once Elrohir senses that you’re beginning to feel a little lighter, he will offer you a small smile—a rare sight that shows just how deeply he cares. He may tease you gently, his usual dry humor appearing once more. “There is the spirit I know,” he’ll say with a faint smile. “You were never meant to stay in sorrow for long, meleth.”

✧ However, Elrohir knows better than to push too quickly. He will respect your need for space or rest, but if you’re ready, he may suggest a quiet activity—something calm and soothing. A walk in Rivendell’s gardens, or sitting by the fire with a book. It’s not about distracting you, but rather offering a peaceful environment in which you can continue to heal.

✧ If your sadness is due to an external cause, Elrohir’s protective side will rise to the surface. His eyes may darken, a quiet intensity filling his gaze as he asks, “Who caused you pain, meleth? Tell me, and I will make sure you are safe.” He may not act impulsively, but you’ll feel the power of his resolve, knowing that whoever wronged you will face his unwavering protection.

✧ Even after the sadness begins to lift, Elrohir will stay close, quietly checking in on you in the days to follow. He won’t smother you, but you might find small acts of care—he’ll leave a fresh bouquet of flowers by your door or offer to prepare your favorite meal, always with the goal of easing your burdens.

✧ Elrohir’s devotion is steadfast, and above all, he wants you to know that you are loved. “You have my heart, meleth,” he will whisper, “and I will stay by your side, through joy and sorrow alike. No sadness will ever change that.”

[hxrsheykisses]

INTRODUCTION POST !! 💋

This is where you know some things about me, what I write, rules, and etc! So basically just a good rundown of everything!

ABOUT ME !!

I am a writer who loves to make sure that my readers are happy with each chapter I post. I love making others happy because it always ends up with me being happy as well! Whenever I post a new chapter to a fic or post something on here for you guys, it just makes me feel whole!

You can call me many names such as Bri/Kissy/Hershey! I don’t care, I just like the thought of people calling me that for whatever reason!

I do take requests! So if you guys ever have a request for me then I will be happy to do so! It doesn’t matter to me how many times you request because why should I care? Keep them coming PLSSSS! However, if you do wish to send in requests then make sure you read the rules for that in this post so that we can both be on the same page!

I don’t care if you inbox me or dm me. I love you guys and once you follow me, you are automatically my friend. I don’t care if I known you for 2 minutes, you are now my friend and we will be talking🙏

For those who came from my ao3 account—first, HAIIIII!!! Second, this blog is mainly Eltingville Club crap because we are STARVING. The fandom is small and when a fandom is small we have to fend for ourselves and work together like a squad. If you know the struggle then you’ll understand the pain and suffering. Am I still pissed that the pilot never got picked up? Yes. Yes I am.

Please don’t be scared of me guys. I know i’m pretty gosh darn famous underneath the Eltingville tags on Ao3 (🌚) but please come out of your shell🥺 (I’m lowkey kinda scared of you guys too)

RULES FOR MY BLOG !!

Please don’t be weird. Like, don’t be weird as in problematic weird. I love me some “weird”people who have a shit tom of OCS, self ships, and all of the above cause I eat it up everytime. ALL. DAY. LONG. If you legit DM me a whole OC lore rundown, I’ll most definitely hype you up the whole time cause the lore drop is lowkey fire and is burning down Joe’s comic shop🙏

Guys, we don’t bully here… I know how saddening it can be to be in a fandom where it’s mostly crickets besides from the heinous crap you scramble by online but let’s not allow it to get to our brains. We are ALL in a hassle for Eltingville Club shit and we need to stick together. Teamwork makes the dreamwork.

Please spam like my shit. Please. If you don’t then I’ll ghost my fic on Ao3….dont make me do it /j

RULES FOR REQUESTING !!

If you want smut, then automatically it will be the epilogue time setting. I do NOT know how old these weirdos are at the beginning and I am NOT taking any chances. This is genuinely my worse nightmare so guys please inform me if I should go with this or not, cause i’m lowkey scurred, remember, we MUST stick together and we have to help each other out🙏🙏 PS, I know i’m a minor but guys…let’s be for real. Also…uhhh, if i do. smut or something suggestive…erm, most of the time the reader will be leading cause I actually don’t know how to make the reader not be in control. Like im talking about FULL control whenever I do this. Sorry guys💔🙏

If you have the NERVE to rush me to get your request done there are two things that could happen to you. One, I will purposely take longer to make your request as a vengeance🌚 or I’ll just get rid of your request and proceed with my day

If you couldn’t tell from the “About Me” section of this post—YES. YES I DO TAKE REQUESTS FOR OCS AND SELF SHIPS. YES. Send them in along with some important information about them (Personality, interests, appearance, and their relationship with so & so) so I can get to WORK

GENERAL INFORMATION !!

I’ll try to make a link to all of the Appreciation Inboxes you guys send me because those are genuinely so sweet and I want everyone to see them (if you want yours to be private then just DM me instead!) AUAUAUAU♥️

There will be some posts dedicated to my fic on AO3 (headcanons, oneshots, drabbles, etc) because it’s always nice to have some small extra stuff that doesn’t follow the storyline exactly, just some cute stuff. The link for the fic will be on this pinned post at the very end!

Welp, that’s all that I got for now! Thank you so much for reading this and sticking with me, I hope to see you guys soon while I start to fill this blog with endless Eltingville content. Drink and eat regular and take good care of yourself because YOU matter! Love you!💋♥️♥️

[laineystein]

Find the light. Create the light. Be the light. Thank Hashem because it is everywhere.

My trip back to the hellscape that is New York…

The only reason my husband and I were approved to leave the country (while still technically on miluim) is because we a) were asked to speak at our old school about the war and the IDF and other Israeli things and 2) we had a definitive return date. BH we also had two weddings, a bris, and a birthday to celebrate so it worked out. It was (mostly) rainy and windy and grey and cold but it was so nice seeing some of my favorite people. We had a beautiful Shabbos outside of the city and I got alllllll of the doda snuggles. I also spent a good majority of the trip reminding these same people that they should make Aliyah so I could see them more often.

During my trip, I spoke with a group teenagers and, like my MDA students, it mostly turned into a conversation about their fears as young adults in an anti-Jewish world. But they gave me so much hope for the next generation. It was also great to see that my old school is finally encouraging female IDF service — non-combat, of course. I was a pariah when I graduated and now the thing I did is being celebrated. It feels like yesterday that I was graduating but it was actually well over a decade ago so I guess the progress was to be expected at some point. But all of the students were telling me about their upcoming (or recently finished) masa (and similar) trips and how excited they are and how proud they are to be able to give back to this place they call home and to help their fellow Jews.

As lovely as the trip was, I’m so ready to be back home. The older I get, the harder it is to leave Israel. During war, it’s practically unbearable. So I get why, amongst the chaos, diaspora Jews are choosing to travel to Israel. We do not run away from the chaos, we run toward it - especially when it is our people and our land that are suffering. In this past week’s parashah was all about how the Jews gave willingly in a rebuilding of the mishkan. We gave so much that it was also too much. We had to be told to stop. It’s such a metaphor for what we’re going through today and I love this for us. I love it so much. May we never stop giving. May it never be too much. May we continue winning Hashem’s favor while Am Yisrael continues to heal. May Moshiach come and redeem us all, amen. 🙏🏼

[melrosing]

What if brienne's mom was still alive? How much of her character/story would change? And what do u imagine their relationship would be like? 🧐

sorry for the late reply! I think I’ve written something on this before but im on mobile and i know im never gonna find it so. this is mostly hcs:

for whatever reason I’ve always imagined Brienne’s mother as a quiet, daydreamy person who doesn’t smile much but somehow exudes warmth anyway. Selwyn I imagine as having been a big character in his youth but he turns inwards after the loss of Cyril (my hc name for her) and their children. but anyway they were an odd couple in their youth but it kind of worked

the main thing she and Brienne share is a passion for stories, songs and poetry: I think Brienne gets her romanticism from her mother, and Cyril knows a lot about stormlands folklore etc and Brienne is always eager to hear about. they go on walks about the island together to see supposed sites of magic

otoh i think Cyril would be aware that Brienne looks different to other girls but her approach is just to never comment on it. which is fine at first but hard for Bri in adolescence bc she kind of needs Cyril to say she knows she’s different and that’s fine, but Cyril thinks if she says nothing then Brienne will never even realise

Brienne still would have suffered the insults of someone like Septa Roelle, who is more than happy to tell her precisely the ways she’s different, but she doesn’t want to tell her mother bc she’s scared of Cyril confirming it’s all true so unfortunately that never gets addressed

hc that Cyril living means Selwyn maintains his big personality to a greater extent, and he’s warmer towards Brienne as a result. but he’s often distracted by his role as the Evenstar so Bri doesn’t confide much in him EITHER

you know I guess it all really depends on what kind of person Brienne’s mother was in terms of what impact she would’ve had on Brienne’s story. I think she and Brienne would’ve been warm towards one another but not similar people, so she can’t necessarily heal all of Brienne’s hurts and Renly’s kindness is still enough to drive her to join his train

I don’t picture Cyril trying to stop Brienne leaving, she thinks it’s kind of romantic. but Selwyn being less inward in this AU, he does try to stop her as his only heir and that creates a rift between them. maybe that results in Brienne being more resolute about not returning till she wishes, or less so idk. but in short my hc is that Brienne got away with much of her nonconformity through the emotional absence of Selwyn who is too lost in grief to pay her enough attention

maybe in the least, Brienne doesn’t immediately feel so strongly tied to Catelyn, with whom I think there’s a slightly maternal relationship going on? bc she doesn’t lack a mother, that bond doesn’t feel so urgent as it does in ACOK, for either of them: Brienne subconsciously looking for the presence of a maternal figure, Catelyn missing her own children terribly and especially her daughters

idk hope this helps

[frostise]

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my graphics finally became so good this year!! i'm left STUNNED that was my own sweat and tears put into those but i'm glad i improved so much compared to all those years ago. i'm going to create more edits and hopefully master it 😭😭

[kitanaijin]

feathers in the attic | freakebana | part ii. | << blackberry kush >> stargazer myrtle

yandere keigo takami x goldfinch. wordcount: 5016. explicit content. 18+ MDNI

Keigo gives you a treat.

please be mindful of the ample warnings as we're all responsible for curating our own fandom experience✌️ this chapter contains neuro spice, chronic pain, non-consensual hand jobs, degradation, involuntary & forced orgasms, physical abuse, thigh riding, enforced sobriety, and isolation.

It’s hours before you move. 

You rise to your knees, hissing as you drag yourself into child’s pose. The stretch is hell but a necessary evil. 

Magpie doesn’t let you rest though. She just has to poke at the damn scab. “You alive over there?”

Bruise kissed thighs in your face like this, you’re not ready for words.

Joints and muscles long atrophied sing a symphony gone wrong; denouement of your suffering.

You push up to stand on shaking ground.

It’s too much, too fast… static tickles your vision as head rush takes effect. You make it as far as the wall before your back is screaming for relief. 

Hard like a rock, cold as stone. You sink to the floor with little trauma or ceremony.

You wince under the light, shielding your eyes with open palms facing the heavens.

The shirt that once hung so loose on your bruised body now clings to you like a second skin. Clammy with sweat and flushed like death, you imagine you’d looked more like the Pale Man than the bride of a top hero.

Delirium calls to you like a relentless boyfriend you’d block if you could.

…ring…ring…

                       …ring…ring…

                                               …ring—

The gold band lying dormant on your dresser mocks the sentiment. You feel the weight of its intrusive presence as if the little bastard never left your finger and curse your brain for marrying the connection.

Your touch ghosts along your brow, eyes finally adjusted to the midday’s artifice. The walls, back to their regularly scheduled palette. 

Let there be eggshells.

A measured sigh.

“He has the day off,” you comment.

“Figured that out, huh.” She hums, mostly to her lonesome. “One of the chicks. He’s taking Barbie out of her box as we speak.”

Your brow furrows. Keigo didn’t like his girls away from the nest, not if he could help it. He kept things pragmatic, simple.

One at a time and only for the most emergent of circumstances, he’d devised a profile of his perfect kept woman. Wig and scarf. Sunglasses and face mask. A wide brimmed hat to obscure what minimal identifiers remained.

It was a calculated risk, even with the gag order in place. No wonder there was such a sharpened edge today.

“It’s not serious, right?”

“Who’s to say, honestly.” She lets out a noncommittal huff, a nonverbal you know as much as I do… “I haven’t talked to Starling since the baby shower and she never got around to telling me what a bris was.”

“Means circumcision,” you hear yourself say. It’s as instant a response as it was an incredulous one. 

It’s no small feat, maintaining any semblance of yourself in this place. You don’t even know her real name.

From the times you’ve spoken with her, Starling’s faith is her lifeline… one of, you should say. 

Shortly after your abduction, you’d found an unwitting sister in sobriety. You never got the closure of a final hit as the pair of you would commiserate on, given half an opportunity.

Choice is a luxury afforded to few. An unsustainable resource never meant to survive captivity.

You can have it all, baby bird. Everything you want and more for such a low asking price.

He says he’ll give you the world if you just give in to him. His wants, his needs. True to form paradox, considering he’s the one with the keys to your cage.

A shaking smile carves a path across your face. You find yourself with something close to relief despite the devastation pooling in your belly.

“Good for her.”

And you mean it.

The lights go down a touch. Your eyes narrow on the clock by your bedside only to read a measly 16:30 staring back at you.

If he follows through with his threats of family time tonight, you’ll be sure to tell her. It won’t be long until you have your answer.

“You reading contraband over there?” she asks innocently enough.

“Just thinking,” you murmur.

“Hmm…”

Ignoring her for now, you focus your intentions on getting back to the heap of covers laid before you.

You stumble. You crawl. You move on shaky ground, limbs absolutely raging at you.

Push to failure. You’d heard that in a remote workout class once. Here you are, still pushing… still failing.

One minuscule inch after the next until your arms give out under you. Your head meets the pillow, eyes falling shut as you catch your breath.

You let yourself doze, drifting into nothingness.

It’s dark in your swirling subconscious. No color, no dreams. Just you and your pulse; an erratic staccato in your ears. 

Monkey mind has your cravings appear to you every so often. Sticky and sweet, not unlike candy. You can practically smell the buds materializing in your palm—oh, what bliss.

With friends like these, can you truly call yourself lonely?

Of course… you’d never be alone in this place. Not with the memories to keep you company.

You miss your dog.

You miss your patients.

You miss your family, your friends.

You miss your Quirk.

Like a dying star, embers of your fury had long since burned up and died inside you. Only the vestiges remain.

out of sync, out of time. 

You only catch echoes of the blaze so often. Just enough to see, never so much you can bank on its light to keep warm.

Glimpses are few and fleeting. Your blood boils with it every time he drags you out of the box. You feel it when you refuse him.

Self preservation keeps you bound where the pain receptors firing off prevent you from lashing out how you might have in the past. You’d learned the hard way that with no way to revive yourself, life was better for you by keeping sweet.

Back when you still had full range of your Quirk, it was easier.

You could say no. Kick. Scream. Spit your vitriol, really get your licks in. But your husband was nothing if not a generous man… Keigo gave as good as he got.

When he came to collect, he was all smiles and false promises. Hands spread wide in surrender, eyes shut so as to hide his intentions from you.

You’d seen the monster poised to strike. You saw him. This left you exposed to his gaze just as much.

He was on your body until you were both bruised and bloody. He’d leave you a mess on the floor, come still leaking from your abused cunt.

But you could still heal yourself. Your ideations, your pain. Even helped keep your period from dipping out on you.

Your buds were dwindling, locked away in this state of chronic denial. Keigo couldn’t keep you from using your power… he could only mitigate your growing impotence.

No sunlight. No hope… but no less yours.

He didn’t wait long to implement the changes.

The lights. The temp. The meals meant to dull your senses, cloud your mind.

That was ages ago. You have no idea how long it’s been since you had a decent smoke.

When he took away your only means of escape, he figured he didn’t have to worry.

Depression’s a bitch but it keeps you pliant enough. You sleep the day away so it’s not like he has you strapped down to keep from hurting yourself.

When you crawl your way out of the hole back into the land of lucidity, the shame spiral starts anew.

They return as quickly and as violently as they’d left you, the remorse and hindsight unwelcome but not unfamiliar bedfellows. Not the type of foursome he preferred.

Tough shit, you’d lament with a room temperature water bottle shoved between your thighs. ‘I want,’ never gets.

You curl deeper in on yourself, hair a splayed mess across the pillow.

An inky haze overwhelms your field of vision, the cold static threatening to blind you as you find yourself awake in his arms. You shut your eyes, praying for a better outcome when you wake for real.

Five more minutes…

“Are you ready to try this again?”

Despite yourself, you bury your face against his chest. “What time is it?”

“Quarter to seven,” he says softly. “We came in twice to wake you but you were dead to the world.”

Dread pools in your belly. You didn’t have to ask to know.

Without so much as a word, he drags you up into his iron hold. He’s already got a change of clothes for you.

He strips you down, sans protest. The shirt and drawers are near freezing as he peels them from you if your shivers are indication enough.

You’re sure your discomfort only serves as an added bonus for him.

The feathers are already gathering the necessary components for a bird bath: soap and oil, a wet cloth and towel. Pale pink basin. He’s still not talking, even as he cleans you all over again.

Your gaze is hard, staring at the constellations kissing your thighs. He runs the cloth over the bruises. You’re not surprised when they remain, no… but it doesn’t stop your face from falling.

He catches you, eyes ever forward on the task at hand. Washes you without comment or complaint. Your legs. Your stomach and tits. His touch runs feather light past your arms and shoulders. You feel the water trickle down your spine.

“I don’t understand you,” Keigo sighs.

“What’s not to get? They’re ugly.”

Raising you up to dry your back, he shakes his head. The bastard actually has the audacity to scoff at you, “I’m the only one who gets to see them. Move downstairs tomorrow, it’s not like the girl’s are gonna judge.”

“Just forget it.” You rest your head on your knees, hiding your exhaustion.

This gives him pause. His hand reaches for your forehead and you barely suppress a wince. 

“You don’t have a fever,” he notes, all skepticism. “Is this the endo?”

“Please… just stop.” 

You’re hardly a fair match on the best of days. You try to shrug away from his touch but he’s damn persistent tonight; he thorough workup, flipping the back to examine your under eyes and jaw for any distress. A true credit to his training and rank.

How seamless he resumed as if nothing’s happened the last four years. All sins forgiven. Hawks, the Deliverer.

His golden eyes don’t betray his true feelings, never so much as wavering. Voice gentle… hospitable. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

The voice. The face.

This was the man you’d loved once. He, alone, who saved your life and kept you safe. Who stayed with you and cared for you. 

Dried your eyes. Heard your fears.

He listened. You gave him all. 

…you trusted him.

but it was all just a lie…

Your breath catches and you have to turn your face away from him. You bat him off of you, brows furrowing as you resist his touch.

You grouse, “I’m not sick. You want me to be good and I don’t want a fight, okay? I’m tired.”

The way he looks at you like he wants to push the issue… But he backs off at the last, thinking better of it. Lets you be for now.

After drying the rest of you in resumed silence, he helps you to your feet. 

You cling to him, desperate not to fall with your white knuckle grip on his shoulders. He puts you in a silken sage set; puff sleeve blouse and jogger bottoms. 

Another round of dress up darling and you’re absolutely spent. It’s mercifully loose on you. Dry and clean, that’s all that really matters. 

You knew by now if he was more than capable of rocking your shit at a moment’s notice… he could turn your clothes to ribbons and take you in any number of unsavory ways.

It never matters what the girl’s fucking wearing. You do not exist for public consumption.

Keigo ran his fingers through your hair, plaiting it how he used to. His touch wanders across your scalp, your neck…

Your skin is on fire. You’re anywhere else. 

Whether it’s aftercare or grooming, you don’t put much stock into the inner workings of his particular brand of intimacy.

Once satisfied, he looks down on you and gives a nod of his approval. “Let’s go.”

He takes you by the arm, all but dragging you past the vaulted threshold. It’s near impossible to keep up with his stride without tripping over yourself. 

You won’t be caught complaining tonight, even with your body raging like this.

With every passing step, it’s all too apparent how Keigo is setting you up to fail. Goading you into reacting against him; any tangible excuse he can sink his teeth into, dead set on justifying a punishment.

It doesn’t fucking matter. You were getting out of the room today if you had to walk through a trail of broken glass with a makeshift gag down your throat to seal your silence.

You let out a muffled groan behind your sleeve. Your eyes are no nowhere near accustomed to the external light the rest of the house provides. It never goes beyond a level detrimental enough to accommodate any number of Quirks at a time.

Nightingale was the first to defect.

She was a nurse before all this. You’d never met her before all this, yet found yourselves intrinsically linked by way of your healing Quirks.

She had already been here seven years from the time you’d arrived. 

You knew he kept her as deprived as the rest but never close enough to know how.

You’ve had exactly two interactions with her through the vents. She’d only been present during a handful of the rapes.

He knew you were too smart not to manipulate the situation and preferred to keep the pair of you separated.

Birds of a feather…

Carried two babies to term. Twins. A boy and a girl, you’re told they’re nine now.

And you understood. She had to be with them. A creed echoes among you, sisters bound by tragedy and rage: no one among you is complicit.

You remain blameless as the rest.

Starling had been here for well over a decade. American. No one quite knows why she had business in Japan, for University or work.

She hasn’t known life on the outside for almost eighteen years.

Her Quirk was some real Neil Gaiman shit, granting the wielder dominion over dreams. When Keigo’s not depriving her of sleep, Starling can disappear within herself at will to whatever freedom she so chooses.

She gave you hope that there was life after this.

He’s bound to slip up some time, she swore to you. And when he does, we’ll be there… but you have to hold on to watch with me, yeah?

The promise of vindication was the high you’d been missing for so long. Countless nights spent talking and planning.

It was never going to last.

One botched escape attempt was all it took to shatter any illusions you had of leaving him. Keigo clipped the wings of your dreams and took her along with them.

She wouldn’t have forsaken you if she had one iota of agency to her name… would never have had to if she had her own.

She’d known you. She had loved you.

Something died inside you the day he sealed her away for good. 

All you had now was Magpie, the lone hold out.

Virtually Quirkless but sings like an angel. Or… she did, back when she still could. 

He wrecked her voice ages ago through seven grueling years of misuses and abuses. 

When she speaks to you her words are ground with mortar and pestle… Alcohol and mirth coat her tongue, you don’t need to see her to know.

But you would. You’d see her today.

You’d see them all. 

Keep your mouth shut. Eyes forward, breath steady. One step at a time and you’ll see them so soon.

He stops you, hands on either side of your shoulders. They’re firm, warm as they hold you there with him. Keigo slips some errant feathers under the door in preparation for his arrival, but otherwise his attention remains solely on you.

Those brilliant eyes flash in warning, his wings bristling with a barely concealed tension.

“Are you gonna be my good girl, Finch?”

He was encouraging. More so than the commute suggested… but his smile never wavered, never touched.

His grasp was hardly enough to bruise you. You’re not sure why it did.

A nod. “Please,” you beseech him.

“I taught you better than that.” He takes your chin, leaning in extra close. Lips hover over yours, smelling strongly of clove cigarettes. “I know you know how to ask.”

You ball your hands at your sides, all tempered rage.

“Clock’s ticking, Blue.”

A trembling hand reaches for the gray sweatpants he dons. You can feel his emanating  heat already. 

“Keigo,” you start. “Will you please let me join the others?”

You hear the telltale pop of fabric as you dip beneath his waistband. Your grip is clumsy, unmotivated.

“I can be convinced.” His eyes fall shut, never betraying his true ire.

He releases your chin in favor of forcing your pace on his cock. Threads his hand around yours, he pumps himself again and again.

“Please, Keigo…”

“You’re not leaving,” he snaps. A single hit came raining down on your already bruised ass. “Don’t you dare stop.”

You wince on your untried feet, rocking into him. Thigh to thigh. Knee practically parting yours.

An otherwise unoccupied hand in his hair, you kiss a path along his jaw. He quickens the lazy drag, cock so hot in your hand. His hips fuck into you. All you can do is pray he gets on with it and comes soon.

And you know just what’ll take him there.

You lick your lips, swallowing your pride. Your breath stalls by his ear as it comes out a rough order. “Daddy… please.” 

His breath hitches and he shudders into you. The hand on your ass buries all five digits, enmeshing them in your hair, fusing them to your scalp.

owns the kiss. steals your breath.

stole your life. signed your death.

Your legs part for him when he knocks them apart and bullies you into the wall.

“…nhhh…”

He releases your hand, pinches your waist under your billowing top. 

You’d felt his fingers spread over your side; touch roving, guiding. 

“You can get off with me here or we can go back to your room.” When he says it, his voice is harsh as the breath that fans across your cheeks. “Your choice.”

Your choice without a choice.

Easing onto his mass of thigh, you do as he says. You bury your face in his neck. Undulating your hips, you force your drive into gear. Ride him. Chase the high.

don’t struggle and he won’t hurt you…

…be sweet and small, and all will be yours.

He wrenches the fist in your hair; drawing you back, making you cry out. Pleasure spikes, despite yourself. You grind in earnest.

A lude groan echoes from his lips to your ears. “Close,” he warns, pace stuttering in your hand.

You’re working his shaft over until your wrist is practically seething at you. 

It’s the slap that sends you over the edge for him. Not loud or keen. More quiet, tumultuous. A sharp gasp as a prelude to disaster, then the blinding shame of immediate clarity.

You hadn’t even felt him drop your head. 

He falls after you, come spilling onto your fingers.

Breathes out a satisfied sigh watching you fish yourself out of his pants. Presses those lazy lips into whatever skin he can reach, wiping his come on the fabric.

You dismount, eyes anywhere but the dreamy expression he’s servicing you with. Cunt sore, thighs aching. You focus on what he’s done to you, not what you’ve done to yourself.

no ground to stand on… no hill to die.

Your gaze is lowered. Keigo leads and you follow without question or complaint. 

He looks down on you. “Do I have to remind you of the rules?”

“No.” You shake your head soft as your voice, “I just… Please let me go.”

A secret smile has your sights locked on the predator before you. He kisses your cheek, showing you inside without another word.

“Don’t let me keep you.” 

His gaze turns toward the audience behind you. It’s all you can do not to chase it, to go to them.

He leaves some plumage in his wake, making his excuses as he dips past the doors of the in unit bath. 

You barely had time to register the words… that you were actually here. He just waved the four of you off with a passing salute, then he was gone.

The snap of the close has you cringing, eyes brimming with tears. Then she’s touching your shoulder, pulling you into her arms.

Starling.

She still has the same smell, bless her.

You shudder on the contact. So warm. Gentle. “I missed you, you bitch,” you sob.

Your knees give a little and she lets out the softest of laughs in your hair. It took seconds for one set of mits to become two as another body rushed you as lightly as she was able.

surrounding you…

…supporting you.

“Let’s get you good, yeah?”

You nod into her shoulder, sniffling all the while.

It was an allowance, letting them move you as they were. More than a treat… a missive from on high.

Sisters in suffering. Your angels. Your wives.

The couch the girls sit you down on is plush. Velvet emerald. It barely seems real, seeing your girls in the flesh like this.

Eyes linger on the door. There’s someone missing.

“Magpie?” you beg.

Nightingale shakes her head solemnly. She stares at an errant feather. Though worldless, it’s all the intel you need just yet. Your head rests against her shoulder.

It was never meant to last.

Inaudible bursts come pouring out of you. Your face twists in pain but no sounds come out.

When a silent shudder passes through you and you’re no longer sure if you’re laughing or sobbing, it’s ages before you can call yourself calm.

“Star… I need to ask you something.”

“You know the rules,” she whispers. “No unpleasantness when he’s dropping eaves. Lighten up. It’s a bris.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You spread your hands. “You’re right. Mazel Tov.”

You felt yourself meld with the vibes on the couch. Let yourself pretend you were safe, normal. Just for one goddamn minute.

The knob jostles too early. Makes you tense in your seat. You hear him enter and you never have to see his face.

“Not enough time…”

Starling takes you by the hand, presses a kiss over your knuckles. “…Never would’ve been.”

Then you make the sounds. 

Feathers returning to their master. The swinging shriek of the door on its hinges. Cries from the baby.

The baby. 

You struggle against the tightness in your chest; breath bated as you watch him cross the room with his son cradled, skin to skin.

“Don’t let us interrupt,” he bids. Timbre a breathy singsong as he adds, “I’m not even here.”

You roll your eyes with a rough exhale before settling on Starling. She quirks a tired, incredulous brow. You bring her palm to your crown, lips a saccharine pout.

“Mama…”

“What is it, hmm?”

A sigh. “I really missed you.”

You felt her beaming. She knows the score.

She returns with a warm caress around your head that leaves your scalp tingling. Nestling beneath her touch, your eyes fall to a close.

“And what about Nightingale?” she teases.

“Couldn’t say for sure with children present.”

“Oi… Pack it up, Article 21,” he quips from his corner.

The glare Starling sends his way could stop time. Make you question every decision in your life that led you to this point, under her gaze. Utter disgust and contempt.

“You’re really asking me to make you cry right now,” she warns him.

“Then maybe I oughta send you to bed early.” He’s absolutely seething behind a curated layer of dulcet tones for the boy. “You take the baby. Finch and Gale can keep me company.”

“That’s not fair,” she rages.

He takes his time settling his son in the bassinet. It’s moments before he speaks. Seconds turn to minutes, lingering there. But you can’t find it in yourself to have regrets. No remorse.

Not until she pulls back from you to go to him. Keigo passes her, a satisfied curl playing at his lips.

He’s all too happy to take her seat. Not shy at all as he mirrors her touch on you, a facsimile of intimacy not meant for this place. 

You swallow your urgency to be free of him, remembering your promise to behave.

“Look at this face,” he praises. “Even the baby can see how filthy she’s playing.”

“Just because she doesn’t have to fake it with me doesn’t mean she’s plotting, you fuck—”

Cutting her down where she stands, he doesn’t spare her a solitary glance. Keeps you locked in place, all but daring you to look at the mess you’ve made.

Feathers bind her to his whims, same as the fingers taking purchase over your chin and cheeks. It’s going to show up by morning if he holds you like this for much longer. 

“Not fair,” he spits the echo as a grave offense.

The silence is deafening.

“Not fair… are you fucking kidding me? Really, I’ve already been more than fair here. You want concessions for nothing, that shit’s not going to fly with me.”

His touch only relents when you move to break it with a squeak. Pushes you down into the arm of the sofa, caging you in his triceps.

Heart rate spikes. Tinnitus roars in your ears.

“Keigo, let go.” Your voice is small but it reaches him well enough. “Please.”

Looking at him hovering over you, you see him staring back. 

Whatever monster this may be, you will always favor the predator who can differentiate his prey…

Scrubs a hand across his eyes. “Damn it, Blue.”

…at the very least, you could survive him.

Whether this fresh abuse has manifested from work stress or insecurities the day has wrought, that’s no good. But it’s a far better outcome than catching your fall in the web of a dissociative episode.

You know you’ll never get a true apology from him. You’ll settle for the lie of his sorry, knowing he’ll do this again and again.

Let him give you his tears. His care and ceremony. At this point you just want your low light and heating pad. 

You just crave the temporary lapse for now. The quiet break in the chaos. Sleepless nights with a pulsing scar bound to fade faster than the memories ever will.

He pushes off of the couch and snaps his attentions beside you.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her while I’m gone.”

Nightingale sits dutifully, never so much as lifting a finger during his little conniption. You both watch him leave with Starling and the baby in tow, under his wing.

They barely have the door open before she starts to shake on the far end of the sofa. She laughs until she’s on her side, wailing.

You watch for what feels like ages until Hawks turns on his heel, heading straight for her.

“What is it?” he demands, frantically looking her over. “What’s wrong?”

From across the room you hold Starling in your sights. 

She locks with you… 

You feel the breath shared. The moments lost in this time apart.

you feel her inside, feeding you, guiding you.

You materialize on craggy ground in the recesses of her mind.

“Starling?” you call, only to hear yourself in response.

Your softening gaze follows the stars behind her eyes. Lights up the whole space in a bleeding stream of stardust.

As you reach out to touch the stuff, it lights up. Tingly and warm, so warm.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” she says, nearly so fond. “Sorry for the rush job.”

“I hope you know I wasn’t trying to pressure you back there.”

“You’re fine.” She takes the glowing stardust in hand and massages it into her palms. Starling nods at the empty spaces all around. “Go ahead, make yourself comfortable.”

You do so.

“Any idea what’s up with Gale?”

“This is definitely new,” she comments. “Up until thirty seconds ago, Nightingale hadn’t spoken… I mean, maybe going on six years now?”

Starling thumbs at your third eye, imbuing you with her Quirk. You watch her, watching you.

“We’ll talk soon.” She rests her forehead against yours with a wry smile. “Find me in the—”

Nightingale.

He slapped her across the face.

That’s what brought you right back.

Your eyes shoot to the floor. Head down, legs beyond trembling as your hands go to cover your ears.

“Starling, take Josiah back to the nest. Seems I have my work cut out for me tonight.”

No question. No story.

Just orders, orders, orders.

Treating you to the same reckless abandon he does his Fierce Wings. You’re all just things to him.

It’s far from news. You knew it. The others, too.

But between the flare up and his mood, it was one too many offenses to your peace of mind.

And just like that, your anger surpasses your fear.

The fingers that were so cold in your fallen tresses turn to white as you flex them in your lap.

in for a penny… 

“That’s how you’re announcing the name,” you balk.

“One more word,” he dares you. “Just one, Finch. I’ll make you regret it.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you beg.

Keigo is livid, practically simmering already. Still, he says nothing. Nightingale holds her face, hasn’t so much as moved from the floor. Starling remains at the threshold in abject terror.

…in for a pound of flesh.

“Fucking make me.”

[olivia-harris]

—  BASIC INFORMATION!

 FULL NAME: Olivia Jade Harris

 ALIASES: Liv, Livi

 AGE: 29

 PRONOUNS: She/Her

 BIRTHDATE: September 16, 1995

 ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo

 BIRTHPLACE: Monroe, Louisiana

 CURRENT RESIDENCE: Briar Ridge, SC (downtown)

LENGTH OF TIME IN BR: moved here when she was 9, left for about 6ish years for college/working post-college, but then returned about 5 years ago

 SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

 MARITAL STATUS: Single-ish

OCCUPATION: Office assistant @ Ballenger Realty (for now)

—  PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS!

 HEIGHT: 5’9

 HAIR COLOR: Black

 EYE COLOR: Dark brown

 TATTOOS: Two (is open to more)

 PIERCINGS: Ears

—  PERSONALITY!

 POSITIVE TRAITS: creative, hardworking, empathetic, meticulous, observant, protective

 NEGATIVE TRAITS: compulsive, impatient, petty, morbid, opinionated

 LIKES: true crime podcasts/shows, cooking/baking, reading, working out, music, trashy reality shows (especially the housewives), watch some sports, video games

 DISLIKES: cats, coconuts, liars, cheaters, debbie downers

 HOBBIES: photography, being an armchair detective, watching 80s slashers

 HABITS: bites her nails when she's nervous

—  FAMILY INFORMATION!

 MOTHER: Amber Matthews

 FATHER: Jabari Harris

 SIBLINGS: None

—  BIOGRAPHY!

tw: minor death/illness

Life in Monroe, LA was rough, to say the least. While Amber stayed home to raise Olivia, Jabari was a temporary construction worker, finding work assignments when he could as he tried his best to take care of his girls. It wasn’t always easy, but the man worked himself to the bone to try and get his family out of the trenches of Louisiana. It wasn’t until Olivia was 9 years old that a family member out in South Carolina encouraged them to move out that way, and with a little help, Jabari moved his family to Briar Ridge, where he found more stable work. Amber even decided to put her Education degree to use and started teaching now that Olivia was a bit older, and had obviously outgrown her helicopter parent.

While she had been shy and much better behaved in the early years, by the time the family arrived in Briar Ridge, Olivia was starting to come out of her shell. She’d started to find her voice, but was also deep diving into her hobbies: photography, dancing, cooking (more so baking but same thing), and slashers - both the fictional and non-fictional kind. How a happy child turns into a morbid teen, her parents didn’t know, but they just let her run with it anyways. When she wasn’t in dance classes, she was either pestering SC detectives for information on cold cases, or building her photography portfolio by going to scenes of old crimes and taking really good, but slightly chilling, photos. Her fascination led to her deciding on a major pretty early, and although she spent high school partying her ass off and getting into all sorts of trouble, she was still managing to pass enough to get into college. 

Olivia traded Briar Ridge for Columbia when she chose to go to the University of South Carolina, majoring in Criminal Justice and minoring in Art Studio. During her sophomore year, her father suffered a fatal heart attack, and while her mother completely fell apart over the grief, she had to be the strong one. It was then that she had to focus and start making money for herself to help ease some of the burden off of her mom, so she had to shift gears and start charging for fluff photography gigs: birthdays, engagements, maternity, graduation, sports, headshots — it wasn’t ideal per se, but it was helping her mom pay the bills and keep her afloat so she learned to adjust. 

After graduating, she stayed at USC for two more years, this time as a Clery Act Compliance Coordinator for the college, gaining a different perspective of law enforcement, so to speak. But it was during that time period that she realized how insignificant her degree seemed, since she didn’t want to be a regular street cop and she couldn’t bypass it to just be a cold case detective, so Olivia decided to come back home to Briar Ridge. 

Olivia went back to do photography as a placeholder while she tried to decide what she wanted to do with her life, aside from just enjoying it and having a good time in any way that she could, and she eventually decided to try her hand at real estate. Maybe she shouldn’t have binged Santa Clarita Diet three times, but selling houses seemed easy enough, so why not? Ballenger Realty had an open office assistant position so Olivia took it, and she’s been learning from the agents as she studies to get her real estate license; however, she thinks she'll have a better chance at making it as an agent in Briar Ridge if she makes bigger, more powerful connections in town.

—  WANTED CONNECTIONS!

COMING SOON BUT I'M OPEN TO ANY & EVERYTHING

[prvtocol]

@exxecutioners : DeadbyDaylight! | send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it ⚘ ˚

Brianne is a Survivor who must constantly cycle through the Trials to appease The Entity.

Her father is connected to The Black Vale, a cult that worships The Entity. With the wealth and power of its patrons, the cult has historically been a mover and shaker of human affairs. Her father became financially involved and unbeknownst to him, more than money is expected of its members; a sacrifice needed to be made. His daughter, Brianne, an empathetic woman ripe with a reservoir of emotions, was the ideal candidate. 

The black fog took her from a strange villa in Monaco where she went to meet her father; he wasn’t there. Instead, the butler told her “The Black Vale” was expecting her. It made no sense, and her father, who she called on the phone while waiting, told her worriedly to leave quickly. It was too late.

On her is a YSL mini crossbody bag. The few personal belongings inside (tinted lip balm, a mirror, a small comb, a small notebook and fountain pen, breath mints, credit cards, etc.) also include a few English tea sachets and two granola bars. Since they replenish after each trial (as everything is reset?), she often shares them with other Survivors.

Brianne is not the most skilled at surviving the Trials. Propensity is to hide, but it’s not sustainable. She’s not good at running (she’s wearing block heels). She trips. She gets stuck in traps. She’s slow at fixing the generators (her hands shake). Fear can make her freeze. What moves her is empathy. If she hears or sees another Survivor in trouble, she feels compelled to help them, often to her detriment.

Fainting from gore (moris) happens. Panic attacks too. Whenever her emotion meter overloads, it’s a payload for The Entity.

Many of the Survivors are teens or young adults, and Bri (age 40 in this verse) falls into the role of caretaker for some of them. She calls the under-22 crowd "kids" (sorry). You can find her hanging around the few 40-and-over crowd of Survivors.

In her life prior, she worked for her family’s global financial investment firm as a VIP client liaison. She lived a luxury lifestyle, always traveling first class, eating at Michelin-star restaurants, and holidaying in the south of France. She’s never been camping.

She suffers memory loss after each death and has a reset to an extent. An accumulation of certain memories and knowledge learned remains, there stays a vague understanding that she’s in an endless cycle, that she’s been harmed and killed (other survivors can also tell her this), some faces stay familiar, she knows names, and she writes things down in the small journal in her purse, but there are gaps (she also starts to realize there are gaps).

She wanders the fog, needing to move her legs (as if having developed Restless Leg Syndrome). She forgets her direction, forgets she's done this before, and doesn't remember how she ends up back at the campfire (spoiler: she gets killed). 

An edit of her perpetual attire (when not bloodied and soiled) is under the cut:

The "old money" + "office lady" look with her luxury brand modest attire. Being dressed in all black might aid her in hiding. She likes to hide. The scarf is often used as a tourniquet. The art is by @exxecutioners ♡.

[mako-neexu]

smut fic so crazy i have to document my thoughts no matter how incomprehensible. (delusion below)

that kind of love is delicious. but idk where to start... theres so much to say.. but i guess ill do it level by level like in the novel? nah, i think i will do it randomly..

but of course, what i like the most was the way the 'game' is set. where ritsuka could get one favor/help from oberon each level in the dungeon. but the condition is that he won't be by her side unless she calls for him to help her. which is seriously??? makes me insane. iirc she had a line where she said while in the 2nd or 3rd floor (i think) that "It's almost as if Oberon wants me to depend on him..." the dynamic is making me throw up from so much excitement. i also like how he made her vocal about what she wants www even if she got assaulted by tentacles or that one lewd mors (which was honestly creative lmao like jp fandom is a genius ww), the half-helplessness she feels pushed her into calling for his name (sometimes with those sighs 😉) and request for help from the 'torture' she 'suffered' from.

ALSO theres that midsummer night's dream title that changed from D to EX like that was really hot asfkjdghlk like assimilation with oberon.. later turns into being the same as him and her soul fully belonging to him as his mate. ritsuka's body is remade to be the same as him like sdkjbskjdfgjkf

i thinked what shocked me the most was the 'safe room' level. i knew something was up but as soon as i saw how ritsuka was so frantic to drink the water and fruits prepared by oberon, the end notes shocked me??? i LOVE IT so much kasjdfkjdsfgh so thats why the title gained was 'gochisousama'. apparently they were from the autumn forest itself and it reminded me that you should NOT eat what a fairy offers or else.. of course we know the consequences. but according to the end notes, its for the sake of loneliness, of hunger, of this distance from oberon that made her suddenly crave for him so much that she couldnt help but consume what he prepared..i also like how he included a bunch of sex toys dkjfdkjgjkbdjkf my face feels so hot reading it i love it so much..

during the progression of the levels, ritsuka also acquired blue markings on her back which is butterfly shape marking asfljdfgjh which meant that, of course, her body and soul is being tainted in oberon's.. (i think this solidified further when the mors came inside her ww)

but what made me laugh was the marriage contract XD he also wrote it in probably british? or what fairy language is used in morgan's kingdom www still the method to sign it was just both delicious and bizarre www

still, the way the game is set is just??? i love it too much. oberon pushed her in 'his' direction but still made sure she had room to decline and go back. but the exit was already obvious since you only have to go back and the 'dungeon' only led to the bottom which was the opposite of a way out- or rather.. she refused to think about it and resolved to meet oberon- see the real oberon instead of the illusions themself, who she wanted to see. the end, the conclusion, fulfilled by her desires which the flames were fanned by oberon when he set this up.

near the end, the lantern still gave her hope, which would have been the perfect entrance for artoria to bust oberon's ass and save ritsuka ww but this is between obeguda, with the goal of claiming ritsuka's entirety for oberon and 'returning' to that abyss where separation is nonexistent.

"I don't want to betray this light..." That lantern still burned in the end after all. But oberon's question really was a nail in the coffin ww

"If that's the case then I'll ask you," Oberon's voice quietly trembled, "Where in the world is that hope(light) of yours?"

and the words broke ritsuka??? so good.. askjfhsdjkgh the light shined the way to move forward. but 'forward' to where? if the exit and the outside world is that way, why didnt this light point the way? why did the light keep shining so brightly? why was that light burning? and the sense of resignation and defeat washed over her. she doesnt even know why she ended up in such a place the moment she was at the final floor. the feeling of despair was delicious it was so great im clawing at my chest...!!!!

she could only stutter with that feeling of despair! as she tries to find a reason for that lantern that she carried with her!!!

and its just like in the garden!!!! the garden!!!!! "It's alright, Ritsuka. That's enough. You can relax now. Whether its over or still in the middle of it, you can let go." you can finally be free. you can rest easy. so just rely on me. you've done enough!!!

there was also that "fallen star" title. i think its the best. it really does remind me of lb6's ending and his views on titania ueueue

seriously this kind of courtship... www it also reminds me of kairi's previous works which included a similar theme.. but this time three authors worked on it so thanks for the collab yomoko-san, kanonige-san and kairi-san herself

[d0omzdayfursuitz]

✨hi! I'm neptune.✨

He/they/it

lunarian, transneutral, voidpunk, monstergender, catgender, asexual, demiromantic, angled aroace, flixiromantic

I am a minor!!

I am disabled, with autism, ADD, OCD, and IBS, which make having a regular schedule hard (so posts will not be consistent)

This account is meant to be a buisness casual account.

That means that i'll be posting silly things, buisness, as well as things that need attention.

(I would say that all money earned is going to wildlife conservation but i have my own project i wanna do by hand so i'm not sure if personal conservation counts)

------------------------------------------------------------------

I strongly believe in equal rights, and i think that rich people should die and then be deprived of the peace of rot.

Terfs, jk rowling, trumpies, anybody who participates in the color coded political system, racists, nazis/antifurs. Pedophiles, proshippers, creepy non-con likers (gtfo), and sex accounts are not welcome on my blog :) (if you wanna interact, get a sfw account, i dont wanna see a nasty pfp. I am a kid. Being sexual is ok but do it far away from me and my blog) bri'*sh people are tolerated but tolerated only (if you fancy yourself to be a brit like spider-punk you will be loved here)

I am white!! My experiences and advocations are always going to be slightly wrong, and anyone who wishes to correct me is appreciated. The voices of those suffering are more important than the voices of those who are not, and i will do my best to try and step behind and give them a megaphone.

I like to try and find the safe spaces with sunshine and rainbows in the world while i give creative threats to people who try and erase things :3

This blog will also most likely have taxidermy content, as this is a hyperfixation and a passion of mine, and i also hope to turn this into something that will help people too.

[stereocyon]

please consider sharing + donating to help get these gazan boys to safety!!!!

Marilyn and Miran raised Fahed and Talal from the ages of 2 and 3 years old. They have been like mothers to their younger brothers their whole lives. As children they lived close to the beach in Gaza City and loved to go there together, eat ice cream, corn on the cob, and sweet potatoes sold by vendors. Talal, or Lulu as they call him, would build sandcastles; Fahed would knock them down. At home, Miran was the one who cooked, Marilyn read to the boys and helped them with their school work. To Marilyn and Miran these two boys are still their children. Marilyn and Miran left Gaza in 2021 because of their human rights advocacy which left them in profound danger. Knowing that their life in Gaza would always be punctuated by aggressions and suffering, they went in search of a better life for them and their brothers, far from occupation, wars, and death. They moved to Turkey where they were accepted into the Human Rights Defenders program. The Canadian Government has established a dedicated refugee stream for Human Rights Defenders at risk who, due to intense persecution, are looking for a permanent resettlement option in Canada. Marilyn and Miran arrived in Newfoundland on Oct. 10th, 2023. Their brothers, Fahed and Talal, have been in extreme danger since October. On November 14th they took the grave risk of fleeing Gaza City alone, leaving behind their entire family who would not be able to move as quickly or as far as these two young boys. They moved through air strikes, sniper attacks, and risked arbitrary detention, witnessing extreme violence along their route to Rafah on foot. They described the road to Rafah as a road of death. The trauma they experienced along this route is beyond words.

When Fahed and Talal arrived in Rafah they had nowhere to stay and were evacuated to Khan Younis, where the IDF began to bomb. The boys fled again back to Rafah. Everyday they move to a new place within Rafah as safety and conditions change rapidly. They are currently sleeping in a tent in this city that was built to accommodate 250,000 people but is currently home to 1.5 million displaced Palestinians. Conditions are severe, food and clean drinking water are scarce, infectious disease is rampant and the boys are often sick. Even their young and strong bodies cannot withstand the intense bombardment and lack of basic necessities. We are working with a lawyer to get Fahed and Talal to Canada. As soon as they are permitted by the Canadian government, the boys will leave Gaza via the Rafah crossing into Egypt.

Your donation will support the following expenses:

Legal expenses for the immigration process

Travel costs from Rafah to Egypt

Their stay in Egypt while their transit is processed

Travel costs from Cairo to Newfoundland

A New Beginning: Your donation will help the Kasken brothers start anew in Canada, offering them safety and stability.

Settling In: The raised funds will aid in settling the brothers into St. John's, covering essential expenses like rent, food, clothing, and furnishings for the first year.

Funds for medical treatment (their visas would not provide MCP coverage) and for mental health support as both brothers have suffered from severe traumatic stress over the past three months.

[jacklyn-flynn]

Alistair is very vocal about his disapproval of the relationship between Zevran and his fellow warden. Perhaps it's jealousy, or just a brotherly instinct to protect them. Either way, he doesn't notice how their relationship starts to shift. He's so busy grumbling that doesn't even notice how happy he makes them outside of their tent. He means well though, so when someone gets fed up with his belly-aching and tells him how it really is, he feels pretty bad about it. Maybe....maybe, he isn't so bad afterall.

Alistair watched as Zevran bent down behind Briall where she sat working on a new spell with Morrigan. Intimately close, the elf whispered something into her ear. Briall sat still as she listened. Her eyes widened suddenly and a blush bloomed on her cheeks. 

Morrigan’s brows furrowed in annoyance and she made a sharp comment. Briall looked back at her, making a quick apology and trying to hide her smile by biting her lip. Zevran laughed, walking away and leaving the mage to her chastisement and the remainder of her lesson. Alistair groaned disgustedly and shook his head. He looked down at his breakfast, a plate of eggs that was grossly outweighed by the pile of bacon he’d claimed. 

“Something wrong with your food?” Leliana asked beside him. 

He glanced up at the sister. “No, not the food. The assault against Briall’s innocence.” 

“The unfortunate truth of the world is that we all lose our innocence at some point. Also, if you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a Blight?” she pointed out. “No one in our little group can claim innocence.” 

“So that gives him a free pass to use a sweet, naive mage as his personal sex toy?” Alistair realized that he was starting to raise his voice and glanced around camp quickly. He didn’t seem to have drawn any attention.

Leliana let out a long-suffering sigh and set down her plate. “I really need to teach you how to read people.” She turned to face Alistair fully, knees tucked together with her hands poised delicately on her lap. 

“Let’s just completely set aside the fact that Briall is happy. Perhaps for the first time in her life, despite being responsible for the fate of Thedas and every soul in it. We’ll zone in on the ‘problem’ you’ve identified.” Leliana forged ahead despite Alistair’s apparent lack of enthusiasm on the subject as demonstrated by the roll of his eyes. “Zevran.”

“Someone like Briall has never happened to him. I know this through both observation and conversation. I asked him what his intentions were with Bri and he said that he didn’t know. All he knew was that she was the first lover he’d ever taken that he didn’t want to be with again.” Leliana held up one finger quickly when he scowled. “He said that he needed to be with her. That leads me to believe his intentions are good.”

“I also see it. Every day.” Leliana laid her hand over his when she noticed it start to shake. “When we set up camp, he helps her with her tent and provisions before he even starts his. If his watch is after hers he wakes up early to relieve her. If hers is after his, he lets her sleep in if he wakes her at all. Have you seen how she closes her eyes and smiles, ever so slightly, when he brushes and braids her hair or how carefully he does so?” Leliana raised her brows in question and Alistair begrudgingly nodded. 

“He does little things that she doesn’t even notice. Things he doesn’t get credit for but he does them anyway. Clean her boots, patch her tent or steal things from her pack to carry in his to lighten her load. I very strongly feel that Zevran has never done anything in his life that did not directly benefit him, until Briall.” She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “But do you want to know what I see, every day, that tells me she isn’t his ‘sex toy’?” 

Starting to feel a little ashamed of himself, Alistair nodded. 

Leliana pointed toward Zevran where he sat by the fire. “When he isn’t doing something for her, or in her company, he’s almost always doing that.” 

The assassin had his breakfast plate on his lap, all but forgotten. He was watching Briall as dark purple and black mist started to seep from her palm and swirl around her fingers. She was fully engrossed in her lesson, giving him free rein to stare to his heart’s content. A wistful smile played on his lips. His honey-gold eyes were soft with affection, not lust. 

“If you want my honest opinion, which I’m going to give you regardless; Zevran is in love with her. He doesn’t know it yet because he’s never felt it before, but he is.” When she looked back at Alistair, she was pleased to see a sheepish look on his face. 

“She makes him happy. Most importantly, he makes her happy.” Leliana picked up her plate, resuming her meal. “Credit where credit’s due.”

[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated : APRIL 1996

close-up: THE KID

Part 2

Transcript Below!!!

At 6’2” and 212 pounds, The Kid hardly looks like the typical professional wrestler … But he isn’t typical: the six year veteran is a high-flying, high-risk, aerial artist who has scored several shocking upsets simply because he’s willing to take chances … Spent most of his early years competing for Minneapolis-based Pro Wrestling America … As The Lightning Kid, he won the PWA light heavyweight title in both 1990 and 1991 … He also held the PWA tag team title (with Jerry Lynn) and the PWA TV title … Moved to texas and won the Global Wrestling Federation junior heavyweight title twice in the second half of ‘91 … Later accepted an offer to wrestle in Japan and battled such superstars as Jushin Liger, El Samurai, Ultimo Dragon, and The Great Muta … Lost most of those matches, but gained valuable experience … arrived in the WWF in April 1993 hardly made a splash … Lost his debut match to Louie Spicolli … Also lost to mid-carders such as Doink the Clown and Mr. Hughes, The Kid scored one of the biggest WWF upsets ever by pinning Razor Ramon on May 17 WWF Monday Night Raw … Kid seemed as shocked as everyone in the building … From that point on, fans called him the 1-2-3 Kid … Also pinned Terry Taylor and Ted DiBiase on several occasions … Just as impressive were two victories over former AWA World Champion Rick Martel … Jerry Lawler started poking fun at him on segments of “King’s Court” … Moved up as high as fourth in the WWF ratings in 1993 … Was pinned by Irwin R. Schyster at SummerSlam ‘93 … Lost by countout to Marty Jannetty in a thrilling match on August 31, 1993, in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Kid was injured when he misfired on a daring dive and hit a steel railing. Jannetty helped him back to the dressing room … Went in a slump after suffering a series of embarrassing losses to Doink … Also lost to Bastion Booger because of interference by Johnny Polo … Polo pushed Kid off the top rope, leading to the pin … Helped protect Ramon from an attack by Schyster, Diesel, Adam Bomb, and Martel after Ramon won his first Intercontinental title, on September 17, 1993 … At the 93’ Survivor Series, he teamed with Jannetty, Ramon, and Randy Savage to defeat IRS, Diesel, Martel, and Bomb … Wrestled well, but made one mistake too many and lost a crucial RAW against Shawn Michaels … Michaels twice power-bombed Kid before Ramon came to his rescue … Won his first major title on January 10, 1994, when he and Jannetty teamed to beat The Quebecers for the WWF World tag team title; Kid pinned Jacques following a flying bodypress from the top rope … Lost the belts back to The Quebecers one week later … Kid stunned Jeff Jarrett in the quater-finals of the 1994 King of the Ring tournament, but was piledrived by “Double-J” three times afterward … There was no doubt as to whether Kid would be ready for the semifinals later that evening, but after a bried delay, he came out and lost a tough match to Owen Hart … Owen went on to win King of the Ring … Had a thrilling match with WWF World champion Bret Hart on July 1, 1994. Kid kicked out of several pin attempts, shocked Bret with a spinning savate kick, but erred by trying a dropkick from the top rope. Bret moved out of the way and Kid landed on his back. Bret won by submission to the “sharpshooter” … In a battle of aerial artists on August 15, 1994, Kid won by disqualification over Owen Hart after Jim Neidhart interfered. Owen then locked Kid in a “sharpshooter” for several minutes … Teamed with Ramon, Fatu, Davey Boy Smith, and Sionne to beat Jarrett, Diesel, Neidhart, Owen Hart, and Michaels at the 94’ Survivor Series. The Kid, however, was one of the first wrestlers eliminated … Teamed with newcomer “Man O’ War” Aldo Montoya in matches against The Heavenly Bodies and others … Teamed with Bob “Spark Plugg” Holly to beat Bam Bam Bigekow and Tatanka in a tournament final for the vacant WWF World tag team title at the 95’ Royal Rumble … But glory didn’t last long. One night later in Palmetto, Florida,The Smokin’ Gunns beat The Kid and Holly for the belts …

[amo616]

Painful Circumstances

It all began with a cough.

It was barely a tickle at the back of her throat, one that could go mostly ignored as Nathalie went about her daily life. She didn't think too much of it at first, believing that in a few days, it would pass. However, when it didn't and instead only got worse, she still tried to ignore it. She had been doing so well lately, only having the occasional coughing fit. She was even able to walk about the Agreste manor with relative ease, although the robotic back and leg support Gabriel gave her definitely helped with that.

But as the days turned into weeks, Nathalie couldn't ignore the cough any longer. It was persistent, wracking her body with each hacking spasm. She tried to hide it from those around her, not wanting to worry Gabriel or Adrien, but eventually, it became too much for even her to bear.

One morning, as Nathalie was eating the pancakes that Gabriel had decided to make, her coughing reached a new intensity, causing her to double over in pain. If Gabriel hadn't rushed to her side, she surely would have fallen off her stool. The weakened woman clutched the edge of the counter with one hand as she coughed into her arm. No matter how hard she tried, Nathalie felt like she couldn't catch her breath, and for a moment, she panicked. What if this was more serious than she had at first believed?

Gabriel held his assistant securely in his arms, worry etched on his face. "Nathalie, are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Nathalie tried several times to respond, but each time all that came out was a series of coughs. Gabriel's hands were gentle as he helped her sit on the kitchen stool again, rubbing her back softly, not sure what else he could do. He wished there was more he could come up with for her, but no matter how many doctors she saw, there was very little any of them could achieve. He knew this cough wasn't because of a cold. It was a side effect of Nathalie pushing herself so hard as Mayura with the broken peacock miraculous. If anyone was able to help her, it was him. He knew this, but he didn't even know where to begin.

Eventually, the female caught her breath and looked up at him. "I don't know what's wrong," she said, her voice hoarse from her recent coughing fit. "I thought it was just a cough, but it's been getting worse, and I don't know what else to do."

Even though Nathalie had given up helping Gabriel revive Emilie as Mayura, the peacock miraculous had taken its toll on her body. He had hoped that with time, these effects would lessen, and she would be able to go back to her regular life. But now, it seemed that hope was beginning to fade. The worried man knew that he couldn't ignore Nathalie's health any longer. He had to find a way to help her, no matter what.

Gabriel frowned as he looked at Nathalie. He couldn't stand to see her suffer anymore. He knew he couldn't let her continue like this, despite how hard she tried to hide it from him. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Nathalie, I want you to see a doctor," he said firmly.

His assistant let out a weak sigh. "Gabriel, I've seen countless doctors already. They all say the same thing: "There's nothing they can do for me."

"We can't just give up," Gabriel said, his voice a little louder than he had meant it to come out. "There has to be something we haven't tried yet."

Nathalie didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, she knew the possible consequences of using the broken peacock miraculous, Emilie's death was enough of a reminder. Despite this, she chose to be Mayura, and she chose to push herself past her limits. On the other hand, she wanted to do what she could to live. She wanted to spend more time with Adrien, offering him the advice that a mother would usually give. She wanted to help Gabriel however she could; despite the recent strain in their relationship, she still very much cared for him. She wanted to make the grieving man see that what he was doing was wrong and that bringing Emilie back to life would only lead to destruction.

While she was considering her options, Gabriel softly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Nathalie. For me."

The compassionate woman's heart softened at Gabriel's plea. She knew how much he cared for her, even if he didn't want to admit just how much, not even to himself. He showed her just how much she meant to him with his actions, and she tried to do the same. He was always by her side when she needed it, gave her things to make her life easier, and kept her on as his personal assistant even as her body became weaker. She nodded slowly.

"Okay, I'll see a doctor," Nathalie said, giving in despite knowing how futile it was.

Gabriel let out a relieved sigh, his hand squeezing her shoulder gently. "Thank you."

Nathalie managed a small smile. "I'll make an appointment as soon as I can."

The designer nodded, his expression serious. "Do you want me to go with you? I will if you need me to."

Nathalie's heart swelled at Gabriel's offer. Despite everything that had happened between them, he was still willing to support her in any way he could. She shook her head with a faint smile on her face.

"Thank you, Gabriel, but I'll be fine," she responded.

"Of course. But don't hesitate to call me if you need me," Gabriel told her, his voice still laced with concern.

"I won't," Nathalie promised, full of gratitude.

As the young woman finished her breakfast, Gabriel watched her with worry. He knew Nathalie was in pain, but he also knew how strong she was. She had always been the stronger of the two of them, no matter the hardships she faced. Despite everything, he was grateful to have her by his side, and he would do anything to make sure that she was safe, healthy, and happy.

That afternoon, Nathalie made an appointment with the doctor for the following week. As the week went on, her coughing only got worse, and it became harder to hide from Gabriel and Adrien. They both noticed the very dear woman's struggle, and Gabriel became increasingly worried about her.

Despite Nathalie's reservations about the doctor's ability to help her, she still hoped that they could find a solution to her problem. She had to try everything in her power to get better. The week seemed to drag on for Nathalie as she waited for her appointment. Every day felt like an eternity in which she tried to cope with her worsening cough. She felt like she was suffocating. Trying to distract herself with work became more and more difficult as her coughing fits became more frequent and persistent.

As the day of her appointment finally arrived, Nathalie tried to put on a brave face. She didn't want Gabriel or Adrien to worry any more than they already had.

While she rode in her employer's car to her appointment, her condition not seeming bad enough for an at-home visit, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. She had been to innumerable doctors in the past, and not one had been able to help her. What made this doctor any different?

After a short drive, she arrived and stepped out of the vehicle. She made her way into the doctor's office on shaky legs, and when she entered, Nathalie was greeted by a kind-looking woman. She was an older woman with short, white hair and large green eyes. She was much shorter than Nathalie, something she was grateful for. While the effects the broken peacock miraculous had on her body centered mainly around her legs and lower back, other areas of her body were in pain too, just not as much so, including her neck. The pain in her neck caused quite some difficulty looking up for extended periods of time. The short stature of the woman made it much easier for Nathalie to look her in the eye without much discomfort. The doctor's smile was warm and welcoming, and Nathalie found herself relaxing slightly.

After Nathalie checked in, the two made their way into one of the rooms, and the physician asked her to sit down. Nathalie quickly complied, sitting down on the stretcher covered with a thin layer of paper. She tried to push back the fear and doubt that were bubbling to the surface as the doctor began to ask her questions about her symptoms. Nathalie answered as best she could, but as she spoke, her coughing fits grew more intense. The elderly woman handed her a small, paper cup filled with water at one point, which the younger one drank in a single gulp.

The doctor listened carefully to her symptoms and medical history, jotting down notes as she went. When Nathalie finished, the doctor spoke.

"I would like to run a few tests," she said kindly. "Just to be thorough and make sure we haven't missed anything,"

Nathalie nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope flickering inside her. Maybe this doctor would be different; maybe she would be able to help. The practitioner led Nathalie to another room down the hall, where they ran a series of tests. Nathalie tried to remain calm, but the constant beeping of the machines and the poking and prodding of the examiner made her feel more and more anxious. After what felt like an eternity, the tests were finally complete.

The doctor looked at the unwell woman with a serious expression. "Nathalie, I'm afraid the outcomes of the tests aren't good. The results were inconclusive, but it's clear that you're very sick; we just don't know what we're dealing with."

Nathalie's heart sank. She knew it was too good to be true. She didn't know why she had ever hoped that this time it would be different. She knew the reason for her illness and knew it wasn't something science would be able to solve. Still, she had started to hope again, something she now regretted as the weight of her emotions was far more crushing than it would have been otherwise.

"But I do think there's something we can do to alleviate the pain you're experiencing," the kind physician suddenly said.

Nathalie looked up at her, afraid to hope that whatever the doctor suggested could make any difference. "What can we do?"

"I'm going to prescribe some medication. It should help with your cough and make it easier for you to breathe," the doctor informed before adding, "I'll also give you some exercises to do that will help you regain or at least increase your lung capacity. Hopefully, it's going to make a difference. It will by no means be a cure, but with some luck, it should reduce the pain you're suffering."

The assistant nodded, feeling grateful that there was something the doctor would try to do to help her. She knew deep down that there was no cure for her sickness, but if she could at the very least alleviate some symptoms, that was more than she would have dared to ask for.

As Nathalie left the doctor's office, she felt a sense of relief. She knew her condition would never fully go away, but for the first time, she felt as if there might be some hope. She thanked the physician and made her way back to Gabriel's car, feeling a bit lighter as she did.

However, the hope didn't last long. As the days wore on, Nathalie found that the medication only helped so much. Her coughing fits still came, and they were still just as intense. The exercises helped a bit as well, but they were exhausting to do, and the fatigued woman realized that she couldn't do them for very long. Eventually, she gave up on both the medication and her exercises, which only made matters worse.

Gabriel and Adrien noticed that Nathalie wasn't getting better, and they became increasingly worried about her. They tried to hide their concern, but the assistant could see it in their eyes. She felt guilty for making them worry.

The widower tried everything in his power to help her. He made numerous at-home appointments with doctors and specialists, hoping that someone would be able to help Nathalie. But every appointment left them empty-handed, with no new solutions or treatments to try.

Gabriel also began working tirelessly on new pieces of technology he hoped would be able to cure Nathalie of her illness, or if not, at least ease her pain. He made countless attempts, pushing aside other projects to fully dedicate himself to the woman, but even those proved futile.

With each passing day, Nathalie could see Gabriel becoming more exhausted, and it broke her heart. She wished she could make it all just go away, make it so that her illness wasn't causing so much pain and suffering for everyone around her.

As the months passed by, her condition worsened. She could feel her life fading, becoming weaker with each passing day. She knew her time was almost up, and she accepted her fate. She only wished that she could ease the pain and worry that she had caused Gabriel and Adrien. However, she knew that as she became weaker, the two would only become more concerned. She wasn't able to help them as much as she would’ve liked. She wasn't able to repay their kindness, and that would be her biggest regret.

One night, when Nathalie lay asleep in her bed, her door quietly creaked open. Gabriel walked silently over to her bed before kneeling beside it. She was so exhausted that she didn't wake up to the sound. He didn't want to anyway, knowing how exhausted she had to be after, yet another day filled with testing. He looked at her for a moment, taking in the peaceful expression on her sleeping face. He carefully reached out to brush a singular strand of hair away from her face. Nathalie stirred slightly but didn't wake up. Gabriel stayed there for a long time, simply watching her sleep. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sadness. He knew that despite his best efforts, he was unable to help her, and that realization weighed heavily on him.

"I'm so sorry, Nathalie," Gabriel whispered, hoping that his feelings got across despite her not being able to hear him.

"I wish I knew what to do. I want to take your pain away—the pain I caused—but I can't. No matter how hard I try, I just can't find a way to help you. I'm so sorry. I want you to know I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens, just like you've always been there for me," Gabriel said, his voice cracking.

His eyes filled with unshed tears—the ones he had been holding back for months. He wanted to be strong for Nathalie, as she was going through so much pain that the last thing she needed was to know how strongly the situation affected him.

Gabriel sat there, looking over at Nathalie as she slowly opened her eyes. He blinked away his tears, trying not to let her see them. But it was too late; she could see the sadness in his eyes as she stared back at him. Tears began to well up in her blue eyes, and Gabriel knew that she felt the same way he did.

He was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he wanted to reach out and comfort her, but on the other, he felt guilty for having such strong feelings for her, considering their professional relationship. Not even to mention his recently deceased wife. Having stared at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity, Nathalie placed a gentle hand on Gabriel's cheek and one on the back of his neck, bringing his face closer to hers until their foreheads touched. At that moment, he realized how much he cared for her, even if it had taken him so long to accept it.

But then reality crashed down around them. Nathalie was growing weaker day by day, and Gabriel had no idea what would become of her or the feelings he harbored for her. He was left feeling confused, guilty, and helpless all at once.

"It's okay," the fatigued woman cooed softly, trying to reassure her employer and close friend. "I know you've been trying your best, and I appreciate everything you've done for me. I don't blame you for any of this, so you don't need to blame yourself."

Gabriel shook his head. "I just wish there was more I could do," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Just you being here for me—that's more than I could’ve ever asked for. You and Adrien have given me so much more than I ever deserved and have been the family I never knew I needed. Thank you for everything, truly," Nathalie said with a weak smile.

Gabriel's heart broke into a million pieces as he heard Nathalie's words. Despite doing all that he could, the remorse still hung over him like a thick fog. He was drawn to her and wanted to pull her close, but his inner voice reminded him of the consequences. His hand moved up and softly caressed her forehead as she closed her eyes and basked in the warmth of his touch.

When they parted ways, Gabriel couldn't help but linger under her beautiful gaze for a few moments. The rapid beating of his heart warned him of how quickly his feelings were escalating, and he knew he had to leave now, or it would be too late.

Gabriel stood up slowly, his fingers brushing against Nathalie's bed as he rose. He felt her soft hand rest gently on his cheek, and he hesitated, yearning to stay in the moment a while longer. His heart pounded heavily within him as he wrestled with the conflicting emotions inside of him. He wanted more than anything to remain by Nathalie's side, but he also knew that it was probably not wise. With much effort, he forced himself away from her and steeled himself to continue down his path, even though it pained him to do so. After all, he had already gone through the agony of losing the wife that he loved deeply; could he bear going through something similar again?

Nathalie smiled weakly at him. "Don't worry, Gabriel. I'll be okay," she said, her voice soft.

Nathalie's eyes closed, and Gabriel could see that she was slowly losing her battle. With a heavy heart, he kissed her forehead and turned to leave. He stood at the door for what felt like an eternity, watching her sleeping form with a mixture of emotions. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to stay and protect her from whatever fate was coming for her. On the other hand, he knew there was nothing he could do but watch as she slipped away.

Gabriel wished he could turn back time and save her. But every attempt had failed, and it all came down to his actions that had led them here. He bitterly repressed his selfishness, which had caused him to make the wrong choices, choosing power over protecting those he cared about. The thought alone made Gabriel's chest tighten with guilt and sorrow, knowing there was nothing he could do to undo any of it now.

Gabriel trudged his way to his office, desperately reaching for a distraction from the weight of his emotions surrounding Nathalie. As he walked in, he took a deep breath and tried to convince himself that it was a chance for clarity and peace.

But when he sat down at his desk, thoughts of Nathalie flooded back in. He replayed her smile, her touch, and her scent in his head, unable to shake the guilt that he had let her down. He wanted to move on but couldn't make himself turn away from the pain he was feeling.

Gabriel tried to force himself to focus on the mountains of paperwork that sat on his desk. Desperately, he flipped through the pages, trying to decipher the words and numbers, but they swam together in a jumbled mess. His mind kept drifting back to Nathalie, and with growing dread, he finally accepted that he couldn't deny his feelings for her anymore.

He angrily slammed his palms against his forehead in frustration and slumped back into his chair. He had repressed these emotions for so long, and now it seemed he was about to lose her forever. He couldn't ignore this any longer.

He knew it was wrong and that he shouldn't have these feelings for his employee, but he couldn't help it. He cared for her deeply and wanted to protect her and be there for her in any way he could. But now it was too late, and he could feel the guilt of his selfishness eating away at him.

Gabriel's gaze lingered on his computer, the haunt of so many late nights and desperate searches. He was exhausted from combing through medical papers and trying to find any cure that might help Nathalie. He knew he should just give up; after all, how many times had he taken her to the hospital? How often had he tried new medicines? But somewhere in his heart, there is still a spark of hope, no matter how slim the possibility. What if there was something out there that could make all this suffering disappear? He couldn't rest until he'd looked at every corner of the internet; otherwise, he feared, he might never forgive himself.

The weight of his failure was crushing him, and Gabriel knew he needed to do something, anything, to help Nathalie. He couldn't just sit here and wait for her to die. He had to take action, even if it was a long shot.

With a new sense of determination, Gabriel opened up the browser on his computer and began searching once more. He scoured medical journals and research studies, and he even reached out to colleagues in his field. He was desperate, and he knew time was running out.

Suddenly, an email notification popped up on Gabriel's computer screen, drawing his attention away from his thoughts of Nathalie. He clicked on the notification and saw that it was from an unknown sender. With a sense of curiosity, he opened the email and began to read.

"Dear Mr. Agreste, I have information concerning a possible cure for Nathalie's condition. Please meet me at the park at midnight tonight. Come alone."

At first, Gabriel was skeptical. It could be a trap, a ploy to get to him through Nathalie. But the possibility of a cure was too great to ignore. He knew that he had to meet with the sender of the email, no matter the risks.

The day seemed to drag on forever. Minutes felt like hours as he waited for the time that he was supposed to meet with this unknown person. Gabriel tried to keep his mind off the meeting. He worked on some designs for the next line of Gabriel brand clothing, but his focus was constantly interrupted by thoughts of Nathalie and what this possible cure could mean for her. He wasn't able to eat, his nerves twisting his stomach in knots.

Finally, evening arrived, and Gabriel found himself walking the streets of Paris towards the park where this fateful meeting was to occur. His heart was racing with anticipation and fear. He had told no one of the meeting, just as he was instructed, not even Nathalie. If this was a trap, he didn't want to give her false hope or have her worry about him.

As he arrived at the park, Gabriel scanned the area, looking for any signs of the sender, but he saw no one. He began to feel uneasy, wondering if he had been foolish to come here alone.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him, and he turned to see a hooded figure approaching him, their faces obscured by the darkness.

"Mr. Agreste, or should I say, Monarch, thank you for coming," the figure said.

Gabriel felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of their voice, but he tried to remain calm. "Who are you? What do you know about Nathalie's condition? What do you want from me?"

The figure stepped closer, and Gabriel could now see their face. It was someone he had never seen before, with a stern expression and piercing eyes.

"Now, now, there's no need to be impatient. All will be explained in due time. You wouldn't want to get on my bad side. I am someone who has information that could save Nathalie's life, after all," the figure said. "But first, you must do something for me."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?”

The figure stepped even closer, their voice dropping to a whisper. "I want you to use your influence and power to help me take down a rival company. They've been encroaching on my business for too long, and I need them gone. And I'm not just talking about your power as Gabriel. You're influential by yourself, yes, but as Monarch, you're so much more. I'd like you to akumatize someone for me. If you do, Nathalie's life is as good as saved. If not..." The man's words trailed off, letting Gabriel's mind think of the worst.

Gabriel felt a sense of anger and betrayal wash over him. How could this person use Nathalie's life as a bargaining chip? He wanted to refuse this man's offer, but he knew he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him. Nathalie's life was at stake.

"I'll do it," Gabriel said, his voice low and steady. "Give me the information you have, and I'll use all of my resources to help you."

The figure nodded, pulling out a small USB drive and handing it to Gabriel. "All of the necessary information is here. Once you've done what I asked, contact me, and I'll make sure Nathalie gets the cure she needs."

With that, the figure turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the park. Gabriel stood there for a moment, staring at the USB drive in his hand, feeling a sense of unease settle over him. He knew that he was doing the wrong thing and that he was making a deal with the devil, but he couldn't let Nathalie die.

He pocketed the storage device and began to make his way out of the park, feeling more alone and helpless than ever before. But he knew he had to keep going, that he had to do whatever it took to save Nathalie's life.

Gabriel lay awake in his bed, struggling to make sense of the deal he had just made. His heart was filled with dread at the thought of what he was doing, and yet his mind raced with ideas of how it could potentially save Nathalie. He felt like he had no other choice, unable to bear the thought of a future without her. Even as doubt and guilt washed over him, he persisted in reaching his goal.

The next morning, Gabriel stood in his office, his heart heavy, staring blankly at the USB drive in his hand. He knew what he had to do, and he was prepared for it. He didn't care what he needed to do so long as Nathalie got better.

He took a deep breath and plugged the USB drive into his computer, accessing the information it contained.

As he read through the details, Gabriel felt his unease grow. The rival company that the hooded figure had asked him to target was not a small business; it was one of the largest in the city. Taking them down would cause a ripple effect throughout the entire industry, leaving hundreds of people without jobs and shaking the city's economy to its core. But Gabriel had made a promise, and he couldn't break it. He knew he had to go through with it, no matter the cost.

He pulled up his computer's interface and began the process of finding the perfect person to akumatize. It had to be someone influential, someone who had a lot of power and could be easily manipulated. Gabriel scrolled through his contacts, looking for the perfect candidate.

And then he found her. An old friend from his college days who had risen to great heights in the financial world. She was the perfect candidate, and Gabriel knew exactly how to lure her in.

He reached out to her, inviting her to a fancy dinner party at his mansion. She eagerly accepted, excited to catch up with an old friend.

But Gabriel had other plans. As the night wore on, he subtly began to plant seeds of doubt and anger in her mind, manipulating her thoughts until she was consumed by a burning desire for revenge against the rival company. Gabriel felt little guilt over his actions. He knew that Nathalie's life was at stake, and he would do anything to save her. Besides, it wasn't as though he hadn't done much worse in the past.

The next day, Gabriel harnessed his old friend's emotions and turned them into a bitter akuma. His plan worked perfectly; the feelings he had planted in her just the day before had taken root and grown overnight, intensifying until she was nothing more than a vessel for his dark desires.

It was only a few minutes later that he received a call from the hooded figure, informing him that Nathalie's cure was ready. Gabriel detransformed and rushed to the location he was given, a small clinic on the outskirts of the city. He wasn't sure how the akumatization was going to play out, but he didn't care. He wasn't doing this to get his hands on Ladybug and Chat Noir's miraculous So, whether the akumatized person destroyed the city or Ladybug was able to stop them hardly mattered to him. All that mattered was that Nathalie got the cure she needed.

Gabriel arrived at the clinic with a sense of desperation gripping him tightly. He was led to a room where he met with a doctor, who handed him a vial of clear liquid. Gabriel took it from him quickly, his hands shaking as he examined it closely. Nothing mattered at this moment except for this cure. It was his last hope.

"This will cure Nathalie's condition," the doctor said. "But be warned, it's experimental. There may be side effects."

Gabriel thanked the doctor and rushed out of the hospital, taking long strides toward his mansion, eager to administer the cure to Nathalie. He felt like every second that passed without him being at her bedside was a second too long.

When he finally arrived home, he practically ran to Nathalie's room. When he opened the door, he saw Nathalie lying there on her bed. She was weak and frail and looked as if she had aged decades in a matter of weeks. Gabriel slowly walked to her bedside, not wanting to disturb or panic her. However, once he was kneeling at her side, he didn't hesitate. Gabriel drew up the clear liquid he had received from the doctor into a syringe and gently injected it into her arm.

For several moments, there was silence in the room as he waited to see if anything would happen. And then it did. Nathalie began to stir from her slumber, and slowly but surely life seeped back into her body and color returned to her cheeks.

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Nathalie, who was not only his secretary, his partner, and the woman he loved, but his everything, come back from the brink of death. The cure might have been dangerous but seeing Nathalie alive again made every risk worth it.

Gabriel watched with tears in his eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. Natalie was going to be okay. He couldn't believe his luck. He had done the unthinkable, made a deal with the devil, and yet he had succeeded in saving Nathalie. But still, guilt gnawed at him. He had caused harm to so many innocent people, all for the sake of one person. Was it worth it?

However, as Nathalie opened her eyes, smiling when she saw him, he knew it was. He knew that he would do it all over again if he had to. Nathalie was his world, and he couldn't bear to lose her. He leaned down to her and kissed her forehead just as he had done a few days prior, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude fill him. He knew what he had done was wrong, but at this moment, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Nathalie smiled weakly, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion. "Thank you, Gabriel," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Gabriel felt his heart swell with love for her. He knew that he would do anything for her, no matter the cost. At this moment, he wasn't able to stop himself as he leaned down to kiss her. He felt her lips press softly against his own. It was a moment of pure happiness, one that he knew he would cherish forever.

As they pulled away from the kiss, Gabriel felt a sense of familiarity wash over him, like he had done this all before. He shook off the feeling, chalking it up to the stress of the past few days. He was just grateful that Nathalie was safe and that they could move on with their lives.

"I... There's something I need to tell you. I've felt this way for a while now, but I've only just realized it. I love you, Nathalie," Gabriel said, his voice soft and sincere.

Nathalie's eyes widened with shock, but then a smile slowly spread across her face. "I love you too, Gabriel," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "I always have, and I always will."

They held each other for a long moment, neither of them wanting to let go. For Gabriel, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had loved Nathalie for a long time but had never dared to accept her feelings. Seeing her so close to death made him realize that he couldn't wait any longer. Life was too short, and he didn't want to waste any more time.

As they parted, Gabriel felt a sense of hope for the future. They had been through a lot, but they had come out stronger on the other side. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but with Nathalie by his side, he felt like he could face anything. They had their whole lives ahead of them, after all.