#I think it’s the most time I’ve spent on a single piece for a while so it was a nice change of pace | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

official-sonic-team · 1 month ago

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my suggestion for a oneshot would be sonic and knuckles having a heart to heart about what sonic's appearance on the ruin walls meant for knuckles growing up alone

“Ah ha! Found you!”

Knuckles jerks back into a fighting stance, spines prickled, fists raised. Intruders rarely managed to get past the defense system, so this one must be a large threat to have evaded every single one, and manage to sneak up on him!

“Woah-ho! Did I manage to sneak up on the great guardian of Angel Island and it’s precious Master Emerald?”

Knuckles relaxes. It’s just this jerk again. “Sonic, I told you to warn me before you showed up. One of these days you’re going to get skewed on one of my traps and I’m going to laugh at you.”

“You’re just mad that I’m too fast for any of those traps to catch me!”

“How did you find me, anyway?”

“Oh, you always seem to be down here.”

Here was the hidden palace. The dilapidated ruin had been long rumored to have been the home of the chief of the Knuckles clan for generations before their ruin. It was one of the better preserved pieces of architecture on Angel Island, and Knuckles had spent many lonely nights beneath the roof of this place, when rain or snow or other temperamental weather shooed him from his usual shrine.

“What does that mean?” Knuckles mutters, feeling oddly defensive. It was sometimes odd to be reminded that his friends noticed his habits, his behaviors. Even after all this time, it was strange to be perceived, to know that people thought of him even when he wasn’t around.

“Just noticed that you tend to hole away here whenever you’re not at the main shrine.” Sonic shrugs. “I don’t get the appeal, personally. Would much rather be outside, napping under the sun.”

“I don’t nap. I’m a vigilant guardian of the most sacred and powerful artifact man has ever learned the existence of.”

“Uh huh,” Sonic teases. “Right. And I’m the king of the Kingdom of Acorn.”

“Oh, shut it!”

Knuckles turns away from him, back to facing the mural he had been studying. Perhaps that had been a bad move, for it reminded him of his earlier thoughts. The mural of a blue creature surrounded by gold attacking a mustached creature who had captured the Master Emerald.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, I wanted to make sure I knew how to fly a plane. Borrowed the Tornado, did a few barrel rolls, and realized I was nearby.”

Knuckles snorts. “Is it borrowing if the plane was originally yours?”

“Oh, you and I both know it belongs to Tails. Even if I wanted it back, he’s not going to be letting go of it anytime soon.” Sonic hums, placing his hands behind his head as he stands directly next to Knuckles. “What do you do down here, anyway? Feels like you’re always here.”

Knuckles frowns. “I… like to reread the ancient scripture that accompanies these murals. I’ve read them a thousand times already, but… I suppose it just helps me feel connected to my ancestors.”

Sonic hums. “So the Knuckles Clan made this?”

Knuckles crosses his arms. “Yes. It’s a similar style to many of their other carvings.”

“Do you think there’s anything on this island that once belonged to the Ancients?”

That was certainly a thought Knuckles had chewed on for a long while. When he had been a child on this island, and had begun to properly hone his skills in artifacts and manuscripts, he had noticed parts of Angel Island’s ruins often appeared… mismatched. He simply assumed there had been a civilization before the echidnas that lived on this island, who may have even inspired the echidnas in their own culture and religion. The statues in Hydrocity, for instance, had always bothered him as being stylistically different than much of the other stylized statues the Knuckles Clan would create, and he wondered on occasion if they influenced the mural they were currently staring at.

“There’s a lot of ancient technology on this island. I’ve always wondered how the Knuckles Clan could have possibly created it if the god of Chaos had detested them so much. And they had sworn to protect the Master Emerald so no one could make the same mistakes as them… it always felt counterintuitive for them to be using it’s power for their own gain, even if its a harmless one.”

Sonic whistles. “Interesting.”

It clearly wasn’t. Knuckles had long ago tried to explain the intricacies of archeology and treasure hunting to Sonic, but he was firmly uninterested in the subject. No thrashing and bashing? No dice. If Knuckles talked for too long, Sonic would dip out from the conversation and disappear.

Knuckles turns his attention to the mural. He was taking a big leap with this one, but… Part of him was itching to scratch Sonic’s brain about this. “This was my favorite mural, growing up.”

“Oh?”

“Much of the inscription is lost to time and erosion. But what I can make out details a great hero coming to save the world.” Knuckles takes a deep breath. “It had meant a lot to me as a child alone on this island, to think that someone might one day come to save…” This felt to vulnerable to admit, to finish the lingering me he was going to add. “... the Master Emerald, and I would no longer be alone.”

Knuckles chances a glance at Sonic. His expression remains neutral, his eyes centered on the blue figure in the mural. His foot wasn’t tapping, however, which meant he hadn’t been testing Sonic’s patience with something so mushy. There’s a chance he might get a dialogue opened between them.

Ever since Knuckles was a child and had figured out to read, this mural had been one he spent as much time as he could near. Many of the other murals and stories were of tragedy, for the Echidnas had been cast out from the rest of society by their own greed, and were determined to never let their mistake befall them again. And, too, their species began to dwindle, and a hopelessness someday settled deep in their bones, and within their stories.

Knuckles couldn’t blame them for their sorrow. What befell the Knuckles Clan was a tragedy that would lead to their own extinction over one mistake. It was sometimes a bit much for Knuckles to bear, to know that he was the last of his kind, all because of Pachacamac’s lust for power.

And that’s what made this mural so enchanting to a young child. To see a hero valiantly fighting against an invader, protecting his home, saving his people, saving himself. He dreamed, many times as a child, that this hero would come and rescue him. That the duty of protecting the Master Emerald would no longer be his, that the sins of his forefathers would be paid, and Knuckles's bondage would be broken. Knuckles would be free to live life how he wanted, for there was someone who would be able to keep his home safe.

It wasn’t quite the case, in the end.

Someone blue and bright and heroic showed up on his island one day when he was twelve to defeat an invader stealing his emerald. An annoying, aggravating, irritating eleven year old boy who toted around a four year old sidekick. Some kid younger than him who made immature and crude jokes and was thoroughly uninterested in the island and it’s history and the emerald beyond keeping it free from Robotnik’s hands.

Oh, twelve year old Knuckles’s blood boiled at the very thought of that blue prick who appeared on his island one day and turned his entire life upside down.

“My ancestors say it’s supposed to be a prophecy,” Knuckles carefully added.

That receives a derisive snort from Sonic.

“Do you really believe in that?” Sonic asks.

“It came true,” Knuckles murmurs.

And it did, in ways Knuckles couldn’t quite comprehend at twelve years old, but knew well at sixteen. For Sonic, in his irritating, antagonizing, stupid way… still did manage to save Knuckles’s life.

He defeated Dr. Robotnik that day, casting himself in a cocoon of gold and Chaos, destroying Robotnik’s machines and returning the Master Emerald back to Angel Island. And beyond that, it was Sonic who became Knuckles’s true first friend, who taught him how there was more to life than just guarding the Master Emerald, that he could balance his duty and his desires and still live a fulfilling life.

Perhaps no hero had swept in and took away his duty. But Knuckles was still grateful nonetheless for what Sonic had taught him, even if he’s never truly managed to tell him.

“Do we even know it was predicting that fight on Angel Island four years ago?” Sonic clicks his tongue. “Why would they bother predicting that fight, anyway? It’s not even the most interesting thing we’ve seen. I mean, why not predict Perfect Chaos re-emerging? Or the End? Or Eggman breaking apart the entire Earth for Dark Gaia? It’s not important, in the grand scheme of things.”

“Of course it’s important!” Knuckles snaps.

Sonic blinks. Knuckles grinds his teeth.

He shouldn’t be surprised. Sonic had been going on countless adventures even before the Angel Island adventure. Let alone everything he had seen afterwards. Why would the most important moment of Knuckles’s life mean anything to him, in the end? What importance could it possibly have when it was just a routine battle to stop Eggman? When he had fought greater and mightier powers than just Eggman’s insatiable greed and some plucky twelve year old guardian of an empty home and a powerful emerald?

Sonic looks back at the mural, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t believe in destiny, fate, or whatever. I’ve never liked the idea that someone else was pulling my strings. Some people find it a comforting thought, to know that everything happens for a reason. I like to think I make my own choices.”

A silence passes between them.

“I made my choice that day, to chase after Robotnik and show up on this island. I think that us choosing to meet is much nicer than thinking we were fated to.”

Knuckles turns to face Sonic, who’s still peering at that mural.

“I chose to come here, to fight you, to eventually help you. To face down Eggman and bring the Master Emerald back. And I’ve chosen every subsequent meeting as well. So believe, perhaps, that that day was fated, foretold, or whatever. But every moment after hasn’t been. And I think that’s much more interesting.”

Knuckles is quiet. The day they met had been the most infuriating day of his life. But it wasn’t entirely the day that he was saved. It was every subsequent day after, when the two of them crossed paths, when Sonic and his rivalry turned into mutual respect, into friendship. It was a cataclysm, an explosion, and in the rubble the two began to build something Knuckles can not name but knows it to be worth more than gold.

Knuckles turns away rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll never understand you, Sonic.”

“Ha! Now, are we done with this boring conversation?” Sonic taps his foot. Knuckles’s time has run out. “What do you think about me taking you on a flight?”

“Ugh, no way! I’ve seen you fly a plane before, I know you do too many barrel rolls.”

Sonic's eyes sparkle with mischief. “Oh? And you can’t handle a little bit of turbulence? To think you call yourself a great guardian!”

“Bah! I can handle anything you throw at me.”

“Challenge accepted!” Sonic grabs his hand and Knuckles braces himself for a super sonic sprint. “I think our group is ready to board! Let’s go!”

To think this was the same person his people had once written a prophecy for.

#perhaps not quite what you wanted #but anything more emotionally vulnerable between the two of them felt Wrong #LOLLLLL #master emerald brothel #fic posting

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risuola · 1 year ago

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Hi!!!!

I dunno the correct process for making a request but here goes!! I LOVE YOUR STUFF I HAVE BEEN BLESSED.

Smut for Nanami Kento, any AU, fem reader, with 58, 81 and 85 as prompts!!

Thank you so much and have a lovely day!!

WINE STAINS

WINE STAINS — F. READER x NANAMI KENTO

As time passed, you noticed Kento became more and more distant. You loved him, oh so much, and you wanted to give him freedom. Six months after you broke up with him, he's standing at your doorstep.

cw: smut, possible spoilers? – most likely inaccuracies in the timeline, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), clit play, bits of angst, alcohol and meds usage briefly mentioned, minor injury + blood mentioned, violence mentioned, reader discretion is advised — 4,3k words

PROMPTS: 58. I miss doing nothing with you. 81. You think that this is easy for me? 85. I think I’ve lost my mind.

a/n: thank you! 🩶 it turned out to be a little long, but what can I say... I like writing long. anyway, hope you like it!

There was a time in your life when you felt like the luckiest woman in the whole universe. Every single one of your days was overflowing with happiness and gratitude, as if you were high on all the love you held in your heart. Two years of this feeling made you lost in the dream; the sun was brighter then, the birds were singing more vibrantly, and the long summer nights seemed to never end as you spent each and every one of them in the embrace of Nanami Kento. He was a man written by a woman – kind and gentle, but with a roughness hidden inside the breathtaking shell of attractiveness. His voice could make any woman's knees buckle, and you were lucky enough to fall asleep and wake up to that alluring tone. Those two years have made you blind.

A year ago, things began to change, but you didn't notice how Kento began to seek some personal space, distancing himself from your ever-loving embrace. He started working overtime, which he hated more than anything else, but you had no reason not to believe him when he told you time after time that he had to stay at the office for extra hours. Then he would often be tired, prying from your touch, and the long, passionate kisses would turn into quick pecks on the cheek. Countless nights you spent looking at the empty space in the bed, crying silently while Nanami slept on the couch. Cold pillows and unscathed covers made you realize that he didn't love you anymore, and it was already too late.

July 3rd, 2022 Exactly six months ago, you welcomed Nanami home for the last time, with all your things already moved out of the apartment that had been the source of your happiness. "What is it?" he asked then, looking around the empty spaces that had once been filled with memories, and you took his face into your cold, trembling hands. "Today is your birthday, my love," you began, doing everything not to crumble to pieces, "I want to give you back your freedom." He answered with silence, which you took as acceptance. "You have dinner in the kitchen, please eat well. I left you a small gift as well. Take care of yourself, be happy, okay?" you smiled, but your eyes betrayed you as tears gathered along your lash line, but you blinked them away and exhaled, your breath quivering and your heart drumming in your chest so hard you thought it would burst through your ribcage. "I think I've taken everything that's mine. All I'm leaving is my love."

Standing on your tippy toes, you kissed Nanami's lips for the last time, smoothed the soft skin of his cheeks and inhaled his musky scent for the last time. All of it was your last with him. The last goodbye you whispered against his mouth as a tear rolled down your cheek, and then you left the apartment. You remember how his hand slid down your arm as you walked past him, but he didn't stop you. Your fingertips brushed against his, but he didn't try to grab you. You made it through the Uber ride, even exchanging a few forced jokes with the driver, but when the doors to your new apartment closed behind you, you broke down. First night you spent on the floor, crying yourself to exhaustion in the cold emptiness.

January 3rd, 2023 Today, on the six-month anniversary of the worst day of your life, you look up at the sky and smile softly as the lone tear rolls down your cold-flushed cheek. Holding onto the paper cup filled with hot coffee, you can't help but wonder if he's happier now. People say time flies, but for you, the last few months have been torturous as you spent day after day trying to numb yourself with busy life, alcohol, and dulling meds. Nothing really seemed to help, no matter what you did or swallowed, nothing was able to free you from the heartache, as if the eternal love you had for Nanami had become one with your soul. So you stopped searching for a way to heal by force and allowed yourself to go through it, with all the sleepless nights, used tissues and missed meals.

Now, as you sit on the bench in the crowded park, you look out at the people rushing through the January coldness, and when your eyes land on a couple so lovely and affectionate, your mind wanders back into the memories. Many cold days, just like this one, you spent with Nanami, shamelessly stealing his warmth and hiding in the safe embrace of his strong arms. Those days were your favorite, the low temperatures gave you more reasons to never part from him, and he always made sure you stayed warm. He was so gentle with you, carrying you like a princess and holding your hands with care as he planted endless kisses all over your reddened cheeks and knuckles. Today, on the third day of the new year, you sit alone, the only source of heat being the coffee, which is now more lukewarm than anything else.

Exhaling, you finish your drink and stand up, throwing away the empty cup and entering the crowded alleys, moving forward with no destination, taking in the aura of Tokyo before leaving for good. It's been a few weeks since you decided to move somewhere else in the world, somewhere far away from where everything reminds you of how happy you used to be, but it's only now that you've finally found the strength to book tickets. With them printed in your apartment, you felt a little lighter, knowing that you're about to start a new chapter, one that will hopefully be brighter and happier. With new streets you've never walked through, with new people you've never talked to, with new cafes, new bakeries, new lakes and parks. You hoped to leave the sadness behind and start living again, not just pretending to be alive, but could you really do that anywhere in the world, when the sky and the stars and the moon and the sun that witnessed all the love you shared with Kento remain the same?

January 7th, 2023 Last night in your apartment, you sit down in the empty space, next to the few boxes that are left and yet to be taken by your father to be stored in their house and later shipped to your new home. One night is all that separates you from the anxiety-driving mixture of airports, flights, and a new life you've put so much hope into. One more night, and maybe you'll be able to find sparks of happiness again. Maybe the unknown will take up enough of your headspace that you'll start appreciating what you have instead of mourning what you've lost. Maybe.

"Cheers to new life," you mutter to yourself as you raise a half-full glass of cheap red wine into the air and take a sip. The unpleasant, tart taste twists your features for a second and you exhale deeply. "Fucking new life, my ass."

As the glass shatters against the wall where you just threw it, you groan to the heavens and despite all intentions to leave it as it is, you get up, grab a cloth and a bag and kneel down to pick up all the pieces and clean the red puddle from the wood before it stains it permanently. It gets tiring quickly, you don't have anything to sweep the floor with, you don't even have a bowl to rinse the cloth in, and as you shuffle between the living room and the kitchen, you make more mess than it's worth.

With a soft groan, you toss the cloth into the sink when you hear a knock at the door. Neighbors, you think. They probably heard the sound of breaking glass and were disturbed, just as they have been bothered by every little sound during the six months you have lived there.

There were so many things that Nanami wanted and needed to tell you, and yet nothing came to his mind when he thought about how to even start the conversation. As he stood in an empty hallway looking at your doors, he wondered if you’d even open them. Maybe you'll know it's him, maybe you'll recognize the way he knocked, or you'll look through the peephole and just pretend you're not home. But the door opened, with an almost angry swing, and when he looked down at you, his heart stopped at the sight.

You were there, wearing a large, black t-shirt that had most likely been his own many months ago, but what Nanami immediately noticed were the bright red stains all over your hands, a few traces on your legs and even on your cheek. His mind went blank at the bloody image, his heart sank and all he could focus on was that you were hurt.

"What happened?" he asks immediately, reaching for your hands to examine them, but you pull them away taking a step back.

"Kento?" you mouth, no voice leaving your throat as you stare at the all-too-familiar frame at your doorstep. Of all people, he was the last one you wanted to see that night, right before leaving. All hope shattered as you realized just by seeing him that you'll never be able to get over him, no matter where you try to run away, he'll always be a part of your soul, he'll always have a part of your heart. "What are you doing here?"

"Can we talk? I know you're leaving tomorrow," he says, and you immediately ask, "Who told you?"

"Your friend. Listen, there are things I have to tell you, I have to explain what happened."

"Kento... why are you making this so hard for me?" you sigh, your voice almost a whisper as you let him in by stepping aside. "I have a flight tomorrow; I should rest now."

“You think that this is easy for me? That losing you was easy for me?" his voice flares up for a moment before he forces it back down. "Please, just let me explain, then you can do whatever you want."

"Alright," you nod, noticing that his eyes once again landing on your covered in red hands. "It's wine. I spilled it."

"You're bleeding."

"It's wine, I'm telling you..." you try to argue, but he grabs your hand and it’s only now that you realize that you are, in fact, bleeding. A few shards of glass are embedded in your flesh, ruby streaks mixing with wine stains, but you don't even feel it and for a moment it scares you how much you desensitized yourself to pain.

“Let me,” Nanami pulls you gently towards the kitchen, where he makes you sit on the chair as he kneels down in front of you, beginning to pull the pieces out with chapsticks – the only thing that you had left in the kitchen to later have some instant ramen.

“I don’t understand why would you come here, Kento. It’s been half a year.”

“I know. But I can’t just let you leave like that.”

“I have everything set up already, I have a flight-ticket, a house and work arranged. Tomorrow I’ll be homeless in Japan.”

“You have a home, don’t act like you don’t know where it is.”

You shake your head at his words, sighing and looking away as he works on picking up the shards from your palm. He caresses you gently whist he cleans your wounds and you feel like you're burning from every place he's touching you. It hurts physically to feel his fingers holding you so tenderly and you can feel the tears already gathering in your eyes. He is your home and the thought of leaving him is suffocating you. It began killing you the day you left on his birthday, and you don't even know how you managed to push through those six months.

“Nanami… All I ever wanted for you is to be happy.”

“Do I look happy to you?”, he lifts his eyes to yours, and all you can see is devastating loneliness that lingers inside his brown irises. In the dim light of your kitchen, you can see his darkened undereyes and the tiredness painted across his features. “Y/n, please, just listen to me.”

“Okay.”

As Nanami’s finished with your hand, he wraps his tie around it, the one that you’ve always jokingly called atrocious and he’s unbothered by ruining it. He stays on his knees, enclosing both of your palms inside his own, much bigger and as you feel him, you could swear his fingers are trembling.

“I lied to you. Over a year ago I left my office job,” he began and already you were confused, but he stopped you from speaking up. “I’ve always been… different. There are things in this world that are called curses. Spiritual beings manifested from cursed energy, a result of negative emotions that flow out of humans. They are harmful to society; they are violently taking lives. Regular people can’t see them, you most likely can’t see them as well, but there are those who call themselves jujutsu sorcerers. They see curses, fight them, exorcise.”

“Are you one of them?”

“I am. I studied at Jujutsu high here in Tokyo, but after losing my classmate I left and tried to live a normal life as a salesman. Wanted to earn enough money to retire at 40 and then have a peaceful life in some kind of paradise. But I hated the office more than I hated sorcery so one year ago I got back to fighting curses. Then I began distancing myself from you. Every time you asked so sweetly how was my day, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that I just got home from the bloody murder scene. I thought it’s better for you to not know all of that, I wanted to keep you safe. It also felt wrong to lay down in bed with you, to touch or kiss you when just hour before, my hands were red. I couldn’t sleep with you when my body was bruised and I had no idea how to explain this to you.”

You stayed silent, taking in his words, watching his expression change from shame to guilt, through sadness and lost.

“When you had told me you’re leaving, I thought it might be better for you to find someone else. That you’ll be safer with someone else. The thought of you getting hurt by a curse because of me terrified me.”

“Wouldn’t I be safer if a sorcerer was there with me…?”, you ask and he exhales.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. I’m sorry, y/n,” Nanami lowers his head, planting a kiss on top of your knuckles. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me. I miss you, I miss doing nothing with you, I miss everything. I should have never let you go; you are the sun in my life, without you I feel like I live in darkness.”

“I don’t understand much of what you just said to me, Kento,” you admit, sighing and releasing one of your hands from his hold only to cup his face and he leans into your touch immediately. “about the curses, I guess I’m just a regular person, but I love you with every fiber of my existence, no matter if you’re a normie, a sorcerer or whatever else.”

You feel him deflate, like the tension left his body the second you said you still love him and you can’t help but smile softly while smoothing over his cheekbone. So many months you dreamt about touching him once again, feeling his supple skin underneath your fingertips and taste his lips. You longed for him, for everything Nanami Kento was and now you were finally able to have him back.

“I love you just as much,” he mutters against the pulse on your wrist, kissing the delicate skin tenderly. “Please, come home with me. Come back to our home.”

“If you promise me that you won’t hide things like this from me. I might not understand any of this, but if what you’re doing is that emotionally wrenching, I want to be the safe space you can come home to,” you coo, tears washing over your eyes and you fall down to your knees, bones hitting the cold tiles painfully but you don’t care, as you cup his face in your palms. Unable to wait any more second, you press your lips onto his, gently at first, but when he molds his own against yours instantaneously, you lose it.

All you can feel in your body is want, you need him now, there. You need him closer, on you, inside you. You want to taste him, feel him, breathe him in, and that's all you've wanted for the last six months, constantly trying to convince yourself that it will pass.

"Need you to fuck me," you mumble against his mouth, pushing him to sit back as you climb onto his lap.

"God, I want nothing more," he whispers, his huge palms already on your butt, squeezing the tender flesh, and you can't hold back a smile as a breathy groan escapes his throat when you roll your hips, running your pussy precisely over his bulging crotch. The rough fabric of his pants pushes easily through the thin, dotted cotton of your panties, making you gasp as it teases your clit. "Fuck you and take you home."

"Please do," you almost cry as his long fingers slip underneath your underwear, landing directly over the sensitive bud, only to slide lower along your folds, collecting the slick and he smirks at how wet and needy you are for him. Another crashing kiss takes your breath away and you squeeze his shoulders to keep yourself from dizziness. All of your thoughts are kissed away, leaving your mind focused only on the man beneath you, and you reach down, quickly, almost impatiently, undoing the belt, button and zipper of his pants. You're burning with anticipation and lust, already intoxicated by the taste of his lips and the way his tongue dances with yours.

Cold air hits Nanami's cock as you pull him out of the restrictive cage of his boxers, and he purrs into your mouth as you wrap your dainty fingers around his fat girth, pumping him even harder than he already is. Unable to focus on anything but the pleasure of your cold palm stroking his length, he pulls away from the kiss and uses his one free hand to pull up your blouse and you obey, letting go of his dick just for a second to undress. He lifts you up with ease to remove your panties as well, and as you sit back on his lap, completely bare and so beautiful, he takes a second to admire the view. The dim kitchen lights give you a blurry aura, your figure lit from behind, with only reflections sparkling in your eyes and bouncing off the curves of your front.

"You are so divine," he breathes out, his rough palms running over your naked form and you chuckle at the act of worship. It's always been like this – every time Nanami would see you naked, he'd act as if you were the most beautiful sight in the world and he was seeing you for the first time.

"And I am yours," you grin, kissing his lips passionately as you roll your hips so that the underside of his stiff shaft strokes between your wet folds. Your juices rub over him as you swallow a grunt that rumbles in his throat as you tease him.

Done with your games, Kento takes you by the hips and you surrender to the strength he holds you with as he aims the angry, leaking head at your entrance. You can feel him stretching your hole as you slowly lower yourself to take him completely. Panting from the mind-numbing sensation of fullness, you rest your forehead against his.

"You're making me lose my mind," he whispers, helping you move your pelvis. "No, I think I've already lost my mind."

"I love you too."

It's slow and sensual, no rush is needed where there's so much emotion. You feel one of Kento's hands all over your body; his thumb finds your clit and skillfully rolls over it, adding another layer to your pleasure and instantly making your pussy twitch and squeeze. You lower your head onto his shoulder, forcing your fingers to cooperate, you fiddle with his button-up shirt to get more access to his skin, to his toned body, but your hands shake as you moan against the side of his neck.

His name slips from your lips like a prayer and he loses composure at the feel of your walls squeezing him so delightfully. You're taking him so well, swallowing every inch, allowing his blunt head to kiss your cervix again and again as his practiced fingers roll over your swollen bundle of nerves. You pick up the pace, holding him close as you smear sloppy, wet kisses all along his collar bones.

The room spins around the two of you, every flex of your pussy leaving Nanami breathless as you whimper louder, overwhelmed by the approaching orgasm. The abuse on your clit pushes you over the edge so quickly, and he encourages you with praise and pet names. "Don't hold it, babygirl," he commands, taking in the feel of your trembling body, your arched back, your flushed cheeks, and those sweet sounds. The melody that makes him proud, that makes him never want to hear anything but your pleasured sounds and it amazes him how easily he loses his composure when he's with you.

Usually, Nanami is nothing but a stoic, reserved man, confident in his steps and never putting too much emotion into anything, but you're able to turn him into a panting mess. You can make him stutter, act irresponsibly, forget his own name. You're the one who makes him smile, you're the one who brings joy and pleasure into his life, and if it weren't for you, he might have already given up chasing happiness.

"Kento, ah-" you call his name, blissfully dazed; your voice shuddering as your words sink into his skin, your lips brush against his neck and he mumbles affirmations under his breath, feeling his cock flex and harden even more, hugged by the tight embrace of your squelching pussy. Unable to speak coherently, his head falls back against the kitchen island, breathless moans and lust driven whimpers leaving his mouth as he keeps your hips moving, helping you ride out your orgasm, feeling himself getting closer and closer to his own. His mind goes blank, an echo of your heavy pants filling his ears, and the way your long nails scratch along his biceps and chest muscles drives him completely insane.

You bite your lower lip, grounding yourself as the overstimulation gets the better of you. After such a long break from his cock, it almost feels too much, the sheer size and girth of it making you see stars.

"Let me taste you," you ask, but it comes out as a plea and he can't refuse when you ask so nicely, so he lets go of your hips. Quickly you reposition yourself to kneel between his legs and kiss your way down, moving your knees back across the cold tiles. With your ass sticking up, you lower yourself to envelop your fingers around his slick with your juices member, pumping him at the base while you add your spit to the concoction of fluids. He's already throbbing and flexing in your grasp as you take him in your mouth; your tongue swirls around the head and strokes along the length.

You lick and suck, moving your head up and down, lightly grazing his cock with your teeth. Nanami throws his head back, his hands landing on top of your head where he gathers your hair into a makeshift pony as you work your magic. The wet, warm feeling of your mouth, mixed with the skillful dance of your tongue makes him dizzy and the way he sucks in his breath above you makes you happy. You love Nanami in a state of chaos and disorder.

"So... perfect..." he mutters, words breaking as he speaks, and you take him deeper, pressing the tip of his cock against your throat, and as you hum, the vibration of your vocal cords sends him over the edge. His grip on your hair tightens, the veins around his girth bulging and you know he's so close. As you continue to deepthroat him, you pick up the pace of your hand at the base of his dick and use your other hand to massage his balls. You feel his thigh muscles flex against your shoulders and he pushes your head down as he cums. Tears roll down your cheeks from the sudden pressure on your throat, but you obey until he lets go and you can guide him through his release. Nanami's cum fills your mouth, smearing all around as you milk him dry, sucking every last drop like it's nectar, savoring it before you swallow.

Your movements slow down, you lick him few more times, gently pumping the length until he pulls you up into a tight embrace of his strong arms. You lean against his chest, his heartbeat right beneath your ear, and you close your eyes to listen to its melody. You don't know how long the two of you have been lying in silence on your kitchen floor, and frankly, you don't need to know as long as it's Nanami Kento you're with.

"Let's get cleaned up and I'll take you home," he finally says, the words pressed against the top of your head as he plants soft kisses there and all you can do is agree.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 month ago

Text

The dad who stepped up; John Wick x oc teen

*Author's note*

Okay so this is the first update in what feels like forever. Now that I'm on winter break and away from home I can start to feel the creative juices flowing. I might also post up some other stuff that I've had saved but didn't feel confident in posting before as some christmas gifts for you all.

But this oneshot (possibly might turn this into a series but only AFTER I've seen all the John Wick films. I've seen bits and pieces on youtube but never all the way through *dodges flying objects*) So just to put in prespective this is a prologue before the first film. Like the five years John has once he retires. But I wanna see how all of you like this and if anyone wants to see this turned into a series, give me a shoutout below and comment whether you wish to be tagged or not.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, parental abandonment, cancer mentioned.

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@waddles03

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

@queensdivas

_______________________________________________________

If you think being a teenage girl is bad enough, try being the teenage daughter of the infamous Baba Yaga. Well not blood related but I’ve known John Wick for most of my pre-teen/teenage life. He was a wild card I never expected coming into mine or my mother’s life, hell men like him only exist in my mom’s Fabio romance novels.

Even though I would later in life learn of who he truly was, I still can’t help but think back to the days when he first came into our lives.

Age 11

It all started when I had came back from my first summer at Camp Walden. I had learned about this camp from my best friend and I pleaded with my mom for me to go. At first she acted like she wasn’t even going to allow me to go but then on the last day of school, she had surprised me with an application of approval and a plane ticket for me to go to Camp Walden.

I spent eight weeks at the all-girls camp learning how to fence, canoe, all the typical fun camp stuff. Made some new friends and would write letters to my mom every single night (as per her conditions since there wasn’t any cell service up there).

I got off the plane with all my bags and looked around the gate until I caught sight of my mom. She held out a welcome home sign and when she found me from the load of passengers, she and I raced up to each other and hugged each other tightly. She picked me up rocking me back and forth kissing me repeatedly.

“Oh I hope you had a lousy time at that camp because I am never sending you there again, I missed you too much!”

“I missed you too mom.”

“Wait did you…..you got your haircut?” when I had went I had pretty long hair and now I come back from camp with my hair up to my shoulders.

“Yeah when we were playing truth or dare, a girl was dared to cut someone’s hair and since I had the longest I was the victim. Luckily for me her mom’s a stylist and she learned from her. Are you mad?”

“I would be but she did something I’ve never been able to make you do since you were little.” We both laughed as she held me close to her again and we began to leave the airport.

“So mom how’s your summer been?”

“Oh the typical single mom empty nester. Watching trash tv and drinking mimosas.” I shook my head at her. “But I wanna hear more about camp. Eight weeks of not hearing your voice is way too long for me.”

“Yeah it was a lot for me too mom. But it was a lot of fun. I got some pics of some foxes that came by the camp.”

“Ohhh exciting. I know you’ll be adding those to your collection my little fox kit.”

“Yeah. And canoeing is much more difficult than they make it seem on TV. We got tipped over like five times and we didn’t even leave the docks.”

“Awww man, I’m sorry baby.” We threw my stuff into the trunk and I rode in the passenger seat while mom drove us out of the airport parking lot and we headed for home. “Oh by the way your aunt Chessy just had to be here to see you come home so expect to be smothered by her.”

“Did she bring Sammy?” I asked excitedly.

“You know your aunt. Never leaves home without that dog of hers.” I clapped my hands excitedly.

“Also baby I have surprise to tell you once you get settled in.”

“A surprise? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise and like I said I want you to get settled in first before I tell you what it is. It’s tiring flying from coast to coast non-stop so I want you to take as much time as you need to get settled.” I let out a groan as I sat back in the seat. When you’re a kid and you hear the word ‘surprise’ you never want to wait for it. But grownups just love to do that to you.

Before long we finally arrived at the house and mom put the car in park in the driveway and turned the engine off. I stepped out of the car and looked at my house in relief. The door was left wide open and I immediately heard barking as Sammy, my aunt’s golden retriever raced out and came over to me.

“Sammy!” he came up and sat down allowing me to hug and kiss him.

“Oh now this fully grown woman can’t be my little Sarah can it!?” I heard aunt Chessy’s voice say as she came out. I let go of Sammy and ran up to her and she too picked me up just like mom did at the airport. Spinning me around and rocking me back and forth. “Oh welcome home baby girl. We missed you soo much! Hey,” she separated our hug and took both my arms in her hands as she continued, “Don’t you dare convince your mom to send you that way again for far too long. You’re lucky I soil you too much otherwise I wouldn’t have extended my stay.”

“I love you too aunt Chessy. Camp was fun but there’s truly no place like home.”

“Amen to that sister. You’re just in time I made cornbread and chili your favorite.”

“Did I just hear cornbread and chili?” mom perked up as she carried my bags over her shoulder.

“Yeah it’s on the stove but Sarah gets the first bowl. And Helen don’t carry all that weight, that’s what I’m here for.” Aunt Chessy grabbed my bags while mom briefly gave her a glare but aunt Chessy gave her a look back. “C’mon kid, let’s get you inside and well fed.” As we walked back inside with Sammy sticking to mom’s side whimpering and licking her hand, that’s when I began to notice the black mustang also parked in our driveway.

I sat down at my balcony bed while aunt Chessy began unpacking my bags. I had my bowl of chili with the cornbread inside of it in my lap and I said.

“Hey aunt Chessy, how’d you afford a mustang from the rental car place?”

“Oh I wish I could afford one in real life. But that car doesn’t belong to me.”

“So what did mom get it or something?” I asked. That’s when we heard my mom giggling. I turned and looked outside and saw her with a man right out by the pool. The man was sitting on one of the pool chairs and I could see he had pure black hair, wore sunglasses and a dark t-shirt. “Who is he?”

“Sarah it’s none of my business how my big sister ruins her life she’s a big girl.” Aunt Chessy said as she began taking out all my dirty clothes. I set my bowl of chili aside and went up to her and said as I wrapped my arms around her right one.

“C’mon aunt Chessy I need to know. Who is he?” aunt Chessy let out a deep sigh and turned to me.

“His name is John Wick. Your mom met him at the gas station when she accidentally forgot to grab her wallet to pay for gas. If you ask me I think he wanted something a bit more than just to be a good Samaritan.”

“What do you mean?” this time we could hear a splash by the pool and mom’s laughter before it turned to shrieks and then back to laughter again. Aunt Chessy let out a groan as she rolled her eyes. I went to grab my camera while Aunt Chessy continued on her rant.

“Look you know how I’ve felt about men especially after your father left you guys. So I gotta ask myself what does a man like that who belongs in a Fabio romance novel want with a woman who is trying to work out her life as a single mom? Then I realize there’s a million reasons why that man has stuck around, and all of it is just waiting to be spent from the New York bank.” As she talked I stood there with my camera to see both my mom and John in the pool together at first playing like little kids before being wrapped in each other’s arms.

“What you think he’s loaded or something?” I asked.

“Ehh what do I know? But I’ll tell you one thing, this man’s got your mother eating out of the palm of his hand. They do everything together, they go on drives in that car of his, they swim together, they go out to eat dinner every single night. But you know what, meet him. See for yourself, don’t let me influence you.”

I saw them making goo-goo eyes at each other before kissing each other as they remained in the pool. I snapped a quick picture of them and felt an odd feeling in my stomach as I looked down at them. Could he be the surprise that mom was talking about?

After I had my lunch and aunt Chessy was now doing my laundry, I got on my bathing suit and put on a Shadow the hedgehog t-shirt over it along with some old sandals. I grabbed my sunglasses and decided to head out to the pool.

There I saw John once again sitting on the pool chair with my mom just coming out of the pool and grabbing a towel.

“Ohh Sarah, didn’t expect you to come down so soon.”

“Figured I’d stretch my legs out in the pool. At least this time I won’t have algae or wet sand between my toes.” I said wiggling my toes as I kicked my sandals off my feet.

“Well since you’re here I guess there’s no time like the present ehh? Sarah, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” She came up behind me and walked us closer to John. “Sarah, this is John Wick.”

He removed his sunglasses and I finally got a better look at his face. A sharp facial structure and a scruff beard that had some hidden grey to it. Deep brown eyes that pierced through my very soul and almost sent a chill of fear up my spine.

“Hello.” His voice had a slight ruggedness to it but it also had warmth and friendliness to it. Not like how when someone who has a rasp to their voice it makes them creepy.

“Hi, Mr. Wick.” I greeted shyly as I placed my sunglasses on top of my head.

“Well I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Sarah. I’ve been looking forward to this all summer.” John said as he adjusted himself to sit up properly and get a better look at me.

“Really well here I am.” I said with a shrug.

“Helen, you’ve been holding out on me. The way your mom has talked about you I expected to meet a little girl but you are so grown up and just as beautiful as her.”

“I’ll be 12 soon. How old are you?”

“Sarah!” exclaimed my mom as tugged me by my shoulders.

“It’s fine Helen. There should actually be no shame in children asking adults their ages.” John assured my mom. “To answer your question I’m 43.”

“That’s 32 years older than me! How old are you again mom.” I asked looking up at her.

“Wow if only you were this interested in math when it comes to your homework. Look I’m going to head inside and get some food. Maybe even check to make sure Chessy is doing the laundry correctly. I love my little sister but sometimes she can be a scatter brain when it comes to laundry. Be right back.” With that mom left me alone with her new ‘boyfriend’.

“My aunt said that you guys met at a gas station, is that true?”

“Yes that is true. I don’t know the full story but from what I did see, the cashier was giving your mother a pretty hard time so I thought I’d give her a hand and help pay for her gas. And not three days later at the Walmart nearby she actually helped me with finding the better laundry detergent. From there I guess you could say the rest is history.”

“How come my mom didn’t mention you in the letters she’d send me?” John let out a deep sigh and looked at me with a sympathetic look.

“I imagine this is pretty awkward, right?” I merely shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Your mom felt that this type of news would’ve been better to be talked about in person. But I want you to know this Sarah, these past eight weeks I’ve really come to care for your mother. And I wish I can do the same for you, but if not I’ll understand and I’ll walk away.”

Now this is something I’ve never heard of happening in real life. Normally the partner wouldn’t allow their lover’s child to dictate whether or not they’ll stay together. But just from seeing mom and him together, that’s the happiest I’ve seen her since……him.

Needless to say (and as you all know) John Wick stuck around with my mother. They waited to get married until a year into their blossoming relationship. And it was also after their marriage that mom and I would leave our home of Nappa, California and go to live with John in his house in New York.

It was out in upstate New York so just roughly about a 20-30min drive away from the city. It was fairly similar in size to our old house back home with wide open spaces, a good sized backyard, and a two door garage.

Ever since they got married, mom’s always tried to have John and I do some ‘father-daughter’ bonding time. And even though John did his best to understand my interests whether it came to gaming, music, or movie trivia, there was just something about being alone with him that didn’t sit right with me. I already got fooled once by my dad once, I wasn’t going to let another one do the same thing to me again.

Age 13

I was sitting in the passenger seat of John’s mustang as we drove into the city to pick up some groceries. Mom had to suddenly be called into work with an emergency and John said he didn’t want to leave me alone in the house by myself.

After a brief back and forth with each other of how whether or not I was capable of staying at the home by myself, I ended up losing that battle and had to tag along. As we walked through the aisles picking out everything we needed, my eye soon caught a bunch of people at a table advertising something.

I noticed their posters for the Gotham Archery classes. And there happened to be one right nearby in Manhattan. I turned to John to see him looking at some deals on eggs then turned my attention back towards the table. Archery did always fascinate me but there was never any schools or lessons back at California that were within driving range of us so I could only fantasize about shooting an actual bow and arrow like Legolas or Merida did.

“You want to go talk to them?” I jumped at John’s voice and looked up at him.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at them for the past five minutes without even blinking. So either you’ve got some beef with one of those gentleman or you’d like to go talk to them and think about joining them.”

“Yeah that’s funny. Me doing archery.” I scoffed as I brushed it off with a laugh.

“What’s so funny about that?” he leaned his arms over the shopping cart as he raised his brow at me. One look at his eyes and I knew he wasn’t kidding around.

“You—you’re being serious?”

“If it’s something you’re interested in, you should go for it.” A strange fluttery feeling came into my chest when he said that. Dad never really took the time to encourage me to go out for something, it was always mom who tried to push me to achieve what I want. So hearing this from an adult male, especially someone like John Wick felt strange and new to me.

I took a deep breath and walked over to the table and it was there I began my journey into the world of archery.

After bringing John over to the table so that he could get some of the information too (since I was under 18 I needed to have an adult present for the information given and to ensure that there would be an adult present whenever I was taken to classes).

We had a meeting that night with my mom and she was so proud that I had managed to find something to do here in New York. And already having John be the chosen supervised parent to go along with me also made her happy to know that we finally managed to find something to bond over.

After several months of lessons, I actually ended up doing a lot better at archery than I could imagine. So much so that my instructor encouraged me to participate in the upcoming tournament that would be held at their school in Brooklyn.

Mom, aunt Chessy and John all came to support me in the tournament but when I began to see the large crowd that was gathering around to see all of us that was competing, my heart began to race and my stomach began churning.

“Full house, oh sweet Jesus.” I groaned as I held my stomach tightly. I fiddled with my archer’s glove unhooking and re-hooking the straps as my anxiety was starting to go through the roof.

“And here we have future gold medalist Olympic archer Sarah Wick.” I shook my head trying to hide the smile etching at the corner of my mouth and looked up to see John with his phone pointed right towards me.

“Haha you’re such a comedian.” I mocked sarcastically.

“No joke. Those archers don’t know who they’re about to go against.” I winced slightly as I looked down and fiddled with my glove once again. “Hey, everything okay?” he asked concerningly. He pocketed his phone and sat down in front of me.

Could I maybe trick him into taking me home? Mom never fell for the classic ‘fake sickness’ trick whenever I needed to get out of something. Guess that’s just something mom’s automatically know, but John—he wouldn’t know and I’ll bet he wouldn’t even ask questions about it.

“I’m not feeling so good John. I think I need to go home and lay down. Yeah that’s it let’s go home.” I went to sit up but he held onto my shoulder and pressed his other hand to my forehead.

“You don’t seem to be running a fever.”

“It’s a stomach bug. Suddenly started up out of nowhere.” I let out a pained hiss as I groaned lowly. When I looked up at him, one look on his face told me that he wasn’t buying this act for a second. “This isn’t working is it?”

“It was a good try.” He acknowledged giving me a wink. I dropped the act as I let out a deep sigh.

“How do you guys always seem to know when we’re faking it?”

“I may have only been in the parenting game for a short time, but I know how to spot the classic ‘feigning sick bit’. Even pulled it myself from time to time. Now you wanna share what’s really going on?”

I don’t even know myself why I suddenly felt like coming clean to him. Whether it was him not talking down to me in order to get the answer, or him even acknowledging that I did my best to fake him out. Either way I finally came clean to him.

“I didn’t think there was going to be so many people here to see us compete. It’s stressing enough with the judges, but the people in the audience……I’m just—so afraid that I’m gonna make a total fool of myself.” John let out a soft hum as he nodded softly.

“I believe what you’re going through right now is what they call stage fright. Everyone gets it, even me.”

“You? I don’t believe you.”

“Oh yeah. Believe it or not this 45 year old, 6’1 giant of a man has and still sometimes deals with anxiety and stage fright.” We both softly chuckled at his statement.

“How do you get by?”

“One step at a time. I can only control what I can. And yes there will be the unknown that you wish you could say ‘hey I want you to do this’ or ‘you’re gonna do it this way’. But we can’t let the fear dictate over something we love.”

“Wow…..that’s—deep.”

“I try my best.” John merely shrugged, which got another laugh out of me. “And think of it this way; after today: No one but your mother, aunt, instructor and I will remember what you did here today. So don’t do your best for those nameless people out in the audience, do it for the ones that really know you.”

“Thanks John. That really helped more than you know.” He gently squeezed my shoulder and said.

“Glad I could help. And good luck out there.” He stood up and walked back to join my mom and aunt at their seats.

Whenever mom gave me advise or encouragement while she always looked on the positive aspects of it, just between the lines I knew there were times that she would sugarcoat certain things. Like there was too much optimism in certain events that I knew wouldn’t be good but she’d always make it seem like everything was going to be okay.

John, however, just hearing him speak about the reality of the situation but not making it sound too cynical. He somehow managed to find the perfect balance of optimism and realistic philosophy.

And it paid off. By the end of the tournament I had gotten three bronze medals and a silver medal for all the categories I had decided to compete in.

As the years went by, there would also come a test that would push the Wick family to the extreme. When I turned 14, my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor. There would be days when she was able to live with us and live a normal life, but there were dark days when she’d have to live in the hospital for weeks on end.

Age 15

This was one of mom’s bad weeks. One day when John and her were out on their wedding anniversary date out in the city. I had gotten a call from John telling me that she had collapsed when they were walking along the docks after their dinner.

However unlike before, this time the tumor had attacked her so aggressively that she now has to be on a ventilator to help her breathe properly. The doctor’s say that even though there’s brain activity, she’s unfortunately locked in a coma-like state and it’s unknown on when she’ll wake up…..or ever.

It was also throughout this time that John and I began to lean more on each other now more than ever. Especially when he came back into the picture out of nowhere.

It was just after school when John and I decided to visit mom in the hospital. I had gotten my German test that he had helped me study for and I wanted to tell mom how I had aced it. She always wanted to make sure that I never fell back on my class work no matter what events or after-school activities I had. We arrived at the hospital parking lot and as we got out of John’s mustang, I asked him.

“Before long I’ll have to start driving, think I can practice driving the mustang?”

“Just because you passed your German exam doesn’t make you an expert on my mustang.” He told me.

“Oh come on John. I’ve been paying attention to how you shift the gears and I dare say I’m confident enough to drive it.”

“There’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.”

“That hurts John. That really hurts!” I exclaimed as I held my heart like I had been shot.

“Yeah, yeah report it to Child services. Come on.” we headed into the building and checked in to see my mom. We walked down the familiar corridor and saw mom in the same position as she has since her check in. Laying still and motionless on the bed. I came up and sat beside her and took her hand in mine.

“Hey mom, we’re back. Just like we promised. Hey get this, you know that German test that John’s been helping me with? I aced it. Can you believe it, after months of struggling I finally get an A+ for that class.”

“The real credit goes to your daughter Helen. She’s the one who took the test, all I did was teach her a few tricks to remember what she needed to learn.” Said John as he sat on the other side of my mom’s bed. Soon my mom’s doctor came in and greeted us.

“Mr. Wick, Ms. Wick.”

“Dr. Sanchez. How has she been?” John asked.

“Well some good news at least. We’ve noticed how she’s been able to now breathe on her own so we took her off the ventilator and for the past ten hours she’s been breathing just fine on her own.” We both sighed in a huge relief.

“Any signs on when she’ll wake up?” I asked.

“That unfortunately is still yet to be determined. But we’ll continue to constantly monitor her progress and we’ll call you with any new updates Mr. Wick.” He said the last part to John since he was the emergency contact for my mom.

“Thank you Dr. Sanchez, truly.” He nodded and soon left the room leaving the three of us alone. John took his spot back at my mom’s right side while I fiddled with the new bracelet that John had gifted them for their anniversary. “You were right about the bracelet.”

“Told yah. Mom’s never been one for clunky or flashy jewelry. And it really is beautiful.” I stroked along the silver flowers that decorated the bracelet.

“I’m gonna head down and get some coffee, you want anything from the cafeteria?”

“I’ll be okay till we get home.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

“John!” I whined.

“You don’t drink enough of it, you gotta stay hydrated.” He said standing up and circled around mom’s bed before gently shaking my head around before leaving the room. I shook my head and said.

“He really is a great guy mom. We’ve actually been getting along more lately since you had to stay here. He’s been taking me to school, archery practice, helping out with my homework. And been the support system I needed even though he’s hurting himself. He may not want to admit out loud, but I sometimes hear him cry at night without you there. So—keep fighting mom. Please, we need you home.”

I lay my head down on her bed as I gripped her hand in both of mine as tightly as I could.

“Helen? Sarah?” I gasped as my eyes shot wide open. I turned towards the door and there I saw someone I never expected to see ever again. My dad.

“D-d…..d…..” I stammered.

“My god, Sarah is that really you? God look at you you’re all….”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I snapped. “How did you find us?!”

“I-I didn’t. My son’s here for his final chemo treatment.” His son? He went and had another kid after he abandoned me and mom? “So Helen’s got……”

“I don’t need to tell you shit!” I snapped. “Get out of here since that’s what you’re good at!”

“Sarah come on. It wasn’t my fault. I thought you were right behind me, honest!” bullshit. He knew what he was doing that day, I’ve come to grips with it. “That day at the mall…..”

“Don’t ever mention that day to me. I was so—so.......” my voice quivered as I tried to contain my emotions that were boiling inside of me after 8 years.

“Oh hey, hey. Don’t-don’t cry baby girl.” He tried to comfort me. I heard his footsteps getting closer to me and once I saw his feet within my vision I pushed him back aggressively. “Sarah!” my dad exclaimed in surprise.

“Get out.” I lowly sneered.

“Baby girl I’m trying to make things right with you.”

“Get out, get out, get out.” I kept muttering as my hand fidgeted at the door.

“Sarah I’m your father—” the second he stepped closer to me. I lashed out with my best right hook and nailed in right across the face screaming at him.

“GET OUT!!!” I tackled him beating him with my fists. Punching, clawing and slapping him repeatedly in a blind rage repeatedly telling him to get out through my grunts and growls.

I really don’t recall what all happened after that but I soon felt arms wrap around my waist trying to pull me away. I tried fighting back but my arms were soon pinned to my side as I heard John’s voice suddenly break through my rage.

“Sarah enough! Easy! Easy!” I stopped and my vision became clear once again. My dad’s face was bleeding profusely as nurses and security had now came to see what the commotion was.

John escorted me out but security tried to stop him. There were words exchanged between the two of them before John took me out of the hospital. All the while keeping a secure grip on me but not manhandling me.

Everything felt—numb. The sounds of the city were muffled and I barely felt myself being moved around. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and my heart was pounding so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. Never before have I felt such rage to get me into that blind state and attack someone like that.

Next thing I knew, I suddenly felt a stinging sensation on my hand and I went to lash out but a hand stopped me and my vision suddenly became clear. I found myself back at home with John kneeling in front of me, my wrist gently grasped in his calloused grip.

“Easy, easy. You’re home now Sarah.” Home. Frantically my eyes looked around to see if it was true and I soon came to realize what had happened. I was home, my real home.

Like a crack steadily increasing along a newly broken mirror, my shock suddenly began to overflow as tears rapidly fell down my face. Immediately I wrapped my arms around John’s waist as I buried my face into his chest and wept hysterically.

“I’m sorry John….I’m so sorry John…..I-I didn’t want you to see…..” I spoke through my hysterical sobs. John instantly wrapped his arms around me, one hand rubbing my back while the other was buried within my hair gently stroking and massaging my scalp.

“It’s okay, let it out. Just let yourself fall apart. I promise to hold you together.” He softly whispered into my ear. The moment he had said that, I had let out the most gut-wrenching, raw, almost animalistic sob of rage, grief, self-hate, confusion, and sorrow that I had kept bottled in since the day my dad abandoned me.

And true to his word, John kept his tight yet comforting hold on me with each raw sob that came out of my mouth.

After what felt like an eternity and for doctoring up my bruised and bleeding knuckles and palm, I lay there in my room just fingering the bandaged wraps that John had placed over my wounds. We didn’t speak after my breakdown but somehow he knew that I needed to have some alone time.

Slowly I got out of bed and headed towards mom and John’s room. The door was shut so I went up and knocked so softly I thought he wouldn’t hear me.

“Come in.” I heard him say. I opened the door and saw John laying across the bed. “Hey Sarah. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can…..we talk?” John nodded and allowed me to sit on mom’s side of the bed. I pulled my legs up to my chest as I took mom’s pillow and held it over my knees. The faint scent of her perfume still lingered onto the pillow. “Did she ever tell you about him?”

“Your aunt made it clear that your father was a…..sensitive subject.” Of course she did.

“I was seven years old. We were out at the mall having our monthly daddy-daughter date. He took me out to red lobster to eat, and then took me to all my favorite stores. Next thing I know as I’m looking at some video games, he’s just gone. I called out for him in the crowded mall but I couldn’t find him anywhere. It was pure luck that a mall cop found me after 20 minutes. I was so frightened and confused…….” I sniffled and wiped away the tears that were burning in my eyes. “Why did he just leave me like that? Was it something I did or said or—And to come back after supposedly living his new life…..”

“Hey, hey.” His large hand encompassed both of mine as I was clenching mom’s pillow so tightly my knuckles were turning white. His touch alone made me relax even though I didn’t want to. “He had no right to suddenly come up to you after all these years. And you are not to blame for him abandoning you.”

“Then why did he do it?” I asked brokenly.

“I wish I had an answer for you. But know that no excuse he can come up with will ever justify what he did.” he wrapped his arm around me, allowing my head to rest just over his heart once again. I shut my eyes allowing a few tears to fall drip down my face.

“You’ve been nothing but supportive and loving to me these past few years. And I never thought I’d find myself saying this but I like you John. I really, really do like you. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to call you…... you know. It still hurts to even say the word out loud.”

“I understand. I never expected you to come forth and call me ‘that word’ as soon as your mom and I got married. I just wanted you to know that you’ve got another person in your corner whenever you feel like you can’t talk to your mom or aunt about something.”

“Thank you John, for everything.” We looked at each other lovingly and he brought me into a tight hug.

“And can I just say, that was an impressive right hook you gave him.” I laughed as I buried my face chest and gripped onto him tighter while I felt him place a loving kiss to the crown of my head.

One last thing I’ve noticed about John were his hugs. There truly was a difference between the way my mom hugs and the way he hugs. Mom’s hugs were always a gentle comfort like being wrapped in a fleece blanket.

John’s hugs—well his were like a protective barrier. Like nothing in the world could get to me and he was going to ensure it with each tight, comforting squeeze he gave. And while it felt like my bones could pop and break any second, it felt comforting to know that such strength could be so gentle when needed to be.

#john wick #john wick imagine #john wick x oc #john wick x helen wick #john wick imagines #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves character imagine #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanuverse #keanu characters

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months ago

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19. Girl, you know I ain't done loving you

For Sam Abrams

Tagging: @kmc1989 @caffeinatedwoman @maryelizabeth13 @toasted-stiletto @district447

Companion piece to:

The Book Tour - You run into Sam while promoting your new book.

Sam spends the night loving you, his fingers threading through your hair as he kisses your mouth, your throat and every other single part of you he’s spent the past two years missing.

There will never be another woman like you. He’s learned that the hard way after immersing himself in the nightmare that is the New York dating scene. Every conversation, every interaction falls short because the truth is Sam is still in love with you and he knows in his heart that he always will be.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispers against your skin as you straddle his hips, his palms roaming up your back. “My life is terrible without you.”

You laugh and it’s the same breathy sound he fell in love with the first night you took him home with you.

“We both know that’s not true.” You smile, your head tipping back as he rolls his hips, hitting that sweet spot. “I saw you in the Time’s ‘Most Eligible Bachelors Over Fifty’.”

His grip on your waist tightens as his lips ghost that sensitive little space just under your ear.

“You think that matters to me?” He asks you as he starts to move faster, harder, each stroke punctuated by his words. “All I want is my wife, in my bed, first thing in the morning and last thing at night.”

His wife…

Those words, they do a little something for you, he can tell by the way you clench around his cock as he fucks you to the point of rapture. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you come, your mouth covering his, drinking down his pleasure as he climaxes. His release spills into you, white hot streaks painting your insides as you rock together languidly.

“Was I everything you remember?” You whisper against his lips as he holds you close.

“Oh Elle.” He whispers, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek. “You’re better than any of my dreams, any of my memories…”

He kisses you then, tumbling the two of you back into the sheets until it starts all over again, until your saying his name because he’s inside you, loving you the way that you deserved to be loved.

When he wakes up in the morning it’s to an empty bed and cool sheets. You had an early flight he remembers, you were moving on to the next leg of your book tour. He swallows down his disappointment as he picks up the note you’ve left on the nightstand, his thumb trailing over your cursive scrawl.

The next time you’re in Chicago you know where to find me.

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#sam abrams #sam abrams x reader #chicago med

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forgot-how-catflap-works · 5 months ago

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Hot take: Sisyphys got a sweet deal

We must imagine Sisyphus happy, according to existentialist philosopher Albert Camus. It’s one of his hottest and most widely known takes. The idea that when confronted with the meaninglessness of his existence, condemned for all eternity to push a boulder up a mountain only for it to roll back down, dear old Sisyphus may find contentment. What other choice does he have after all?

(Showing my age here with the rage face meme and will not apologise #MillenialPride)

The assertion is that we mortals are faced with a similar conundrum. Life is unpredictable, chaotic, and frequently terrifying. With nothing but the infinite void to look forward to, how are we to spend our days? Either we embrace religion and pray for eternal salvation, skip the queue to the void by killing ourselves because it doesn’t make any difference in the end, or laugh at the absurdity of it all and find joy in the simple act of being here. It is up to us to create our own meaning.

On my good days this notion provides me a lot of comfort, and links in nicely with the zen buddhist idea that this moment is the only thing we truly have. So the take home is to embrace it, and live fully for the moment. It’s all very Dead Poets Society or, if you’re like me and have never seen that film, the B plot in Season 1, Episode 3 of Community. In the immortal words of Professor Whitman, “Seize the day Jeff, for real. Go running naked in a hailstorm, kiss a girl in the middle of the day, fly a kite but do it for yourself! Or you wot just fail my class, you’ll fail life.”

On my bad days however, I’m just salty about it. Suddenly the pressure to create my own meaning in the limited time I have becomes crippling to the point of paralysis. Every moment not spent living my best life is a moment wasted. I move steadily towards the grave, the years ahead steadily becoming fewer than those behind. What have I achieved with these dwindling hours, these precious days in which I am burdened to create my own meaning? I’ll tell you what I’ve done; play RuneScape and be depressed.

The problem with transferring this thinking from Sisyphus to a human living under late stage capitalism in the 21st century, is that Sisyphys didn’t have to go to a fucking job everyday. All he had to do was push a boulder! All day! Piece of piss mate.

What I wouldn’t give to just push a boulder all day. No laundry, no dishes, no reletenlessly targeted advertising and no more fucking work emails or meetings. I bet Sisyphys never once had a melon-related panic attack in the fruit aisle of Aldi. On top of that, pushing a massive boulder to the top of a mountain is an incredible workout. Right now I have to drive nearly 30 minutes to go and sweat in a leisure centre while strangers grunt in my periphery. Give me the boulder any day. I want that head empty, no thoughts, brain scampled egg life baby. Release me from the curse of my own self-awareness.

Okay, I get it that Albert Camu grew up in poverty, survived tuberculosis, and lived through the Second World War. I readily admit that my “melon crisis” doesn’t stack up in comparison. All I’m saying is, it’s pretty easy to imagine someone happy when they are free from the mountains of bullshit that besiege us every single day. I am completely overwhelmed by the mere act of existing under capitalism. The sheer number of decisions I have to make every single day just to get from one end to the next breaks my autistic brain. I can’t handle it, didn’t ask for it, and I certainly don’t want it. But surely we could do literally anything else?

I know it’s sort of laughable to say, “Let’s all go back to a simple, agrarian existence where we live off the land and chill by a waterfall smoking phat blunts.” Like, obviously that sounds a thousand times better than what we’re doing now, but short of a catastrophic societal collapse and then thousands of years of recovery, that’s not going to happen. Did you know it (sort of) takes six months and over $1,500 dollars to make a single chicken sandwich from scratch? Sustaining a single human life requires an incredible amount of work.

There are so many of us, and we’re so connected and interdependent on each other as a species. No organism on the planet comes close to what we have built for ourselves and it is an amazing feat by every conceivable metric. But what is it all for? Have we ever once as a civilisation stopped and asked ourselves why we’re doing any of this?

For whatever reason, we are apparently limited in our conception of all that remains possible. A civilisation disjointed and misaligned, adrift on this rock hurtling through space at mind boggling speeds, confronted with the meaninglessness of it all and refusing to collectively acknowledge it for even a moment.

It’s like we’re still locked in that primordial stage of evolution, where we must accrue resources to survive the harsh winter and outlive our rivals. When we predominantly existed as smaller bands or tribes, that made a lot of sense. But now we are a single connected superorganism, our sense of competition is squarely in opposition to our sense of collaboration.

We broadly recognise the need to collaborate in tackling existential threats like climate change, yet our primal competitiveness sees us knee jerking our way back towards fascism. It’s like we’ve gone to the doctor about a backache and they prescribed a dozen hungry tigers to be administered immediately. We’re still acting as though there is not enough to go around, when there is in fact plenty; it has just been misallocated. I am left always wondering why? What do we have to gain from eating ourselves alive?

I cannot help but think it comes from a petulant refusal to collectively acknowledge the void. We struggle desperately for meaning, to leave a legacy, but forget that it is impossible. Even those who live on in infamy after their death will one day perish from the collective consciousness. Our sun will die, all heat will fade from the universe until it is nothing but a barren, lifeless waste. No tower you build or lineage you foster will outlast that. Yet we sit watching helplessly as oligarchs and plutocrats rail against their own mortality to catastrophic and destructive consequences for the rest of us. I suppose in the long run, that doesn’t really matter though does it?

We have made a home for ourselves in the belly of a vast, insatiable beast. A beast so hungry for our blood and labour that it stifles anything that cannot be effectively comodified. How are we to find happiness and peace under such conditions? It is simply not a priority.

To quote folk punk band AJJ:

This is no exaggeration, we're living in a death machine

And no, it's not just your imagination

You've been living in a death machine

Some of us are passengers, and some of us are driving

Almost everybody's getting bled to death to keep the motor running

Sisyhus at least is free from its roiling guts, and in that freedom it is not difficult to imagine him happy. For the rest of us, it takes a little more effort and a lot more work.

#existential dread #existential thoughts #existential crisis #philosophy #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #creative writing #screaming into the void #brain scrampled egg

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seoafin · 2 years ago

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one

You have one final conversation with Nagi before he leaves for what you will eventually come to know as Blue Lock, a world famous Japanese soccer training initiative to single out and cultivate the person who will become the best striker in the world. The very same soccer camp that will train Nagi Seishiro into one of the best, most recognizable strikers in the world.

In the future, you will see his name advertised along with the likes of other internationally renowned players such as Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Itoshi Rin, Mikage Reo, and more, and you will wonder if he loves it like you do. You love playing the violin so much that you can’t fathom a reality where you aren’t reaching for the bow and practicing until your fingers are hard calluses, a reality where you have never felt the heat of the spotlight on your skin, so intense it hurts to breathe.

When you play the violin, sometimes the violin even loves you back.

You will look at the glowing Nike advertisement in Times Square, and wonder if Nagi understands you now.

“If it bothers you so much, I’ll stop playing. I don’t care about soccer. Not like Reo does—”

It makes you see red. You hate him so much in that single instant you regret having met the boy who had become your best friend. You regret all the mornings spent together walking to school, side by side. The ramen and convenience store dinners, because neither of you knew how to cook. Time was better spent playing video games or practicing. All the moments spent in silence, Nagi’s fingers whip fast over the buttons of his gaming console while you listened to your previous performances on your recorder next to him, head resting on his shoulder, mind tracing the notes of the piece.

You regret looking over a sea of faces in a crowd to find reassurance in his, and all the times you had woken him up in his seat after, because apparently, he had fallen asleep right after your performance.

“So what,” you say, in a tightly controlled voice, “You’ll just quit as if nothing happened? Didn’t you tell Mikage you’d play with him?”

He’s a genius, a prodigy, Mikage had crowed, breathing heavily, a vicious smile cut across his lips from the high of winning a soccer match. I’ve never seen anything like it. He’s going to be one of the best, and you’ll only bring him down. He needs guidance, and I’m the man for the job!

Blood fills your mouth, and Nagi only shrugs. “He’ll understand.”

No, you think, gripping the handle of your violin case so hard you hear a crack, he won’t.

In that moment, you think you understand Mikage Reo more than you have ever understood Nagi.

Genius, genius, genius, genius, genius, genius—

And he’s willing to give up? Squander his talents? Playing the violin is your life. You're no genius, but you had fought tooth and nail to get to where you were now. You practiced more than you ate, without break. It was all you needed, all you thought about constantly. How to get better. How to be the best.

And if you had been born with talent…

The frustration of it all makes you want to scream your throat bloody raw. If you had been born with talent, like Nagi, you would’ve won the regional championships months ago, instead of coming in second to someone who had called the violin a hobby.

Just give up, Nagi had told you back then, in that characteristic frank tonelessness that had hurt you more than anything else could’ve. You're loath to admit it was more devastating than the loss. You didn’t want to hear him tell you to give up, you wanted him to—

A barely perceptible frown makes his lips thin, as if a full faced one was too much effort. “You don’t like Reo. I don’t really get it, but I thought you’d be happy—”

Your face burns. “Yes, I don’t like Mikage,” you reply hotly. You hated how easily he had integrated himself into Nagi’s life, with nothing but a smug smile and the money at his fingertips. The way he had steered Nagi even further away from you. Your violin case jostles at your side. “But I’d never be happy with you giving up!”

He blinks, gray eyes almost confused. You’ve never raised your voice at him. Even at the moment he had irreparably damaged your relationship, you had only curled into yourself, clutching your violin, and told him to get out in a small voice.

Tears are hot as they stab at your eyes. Frustration at your incompetence, Nagi’s nonchalant genius, Mikage Reo’s involvement in your relationship with your only friend.

If only you had been born a genius. You’d be known by now, acknowledged. Your love and devotion would mean something. You want to be the best more than you have ever wanted anything in your life. You have never not once regretted the opportunities you had missed out on, practicing. You had spurned the playground for empty music rooms. You had never been on a school trip. Never gone shopping with friends, or even to the movies. But now, you feel the sting of loneliness even now more than ever.

You are so envious of him it makes you sick to the stomach, to the head. You hate him for choosing Mikage over you. For the fact that it'll be at Mikage's side he plays. For never apologizing for how his words hurt you. For making you think that the loneliness was temporary.

You have nobody now.

“Go to that stupid soccer camp,” you snarl as everything ugly inside of you rears its head. “I don’t care. Not about you or Mikage! I don’t care if you become the best in the world or tuck tail and give up like a coward. Just don’t ever show your face in front of me again!”

You turn on your heel, tears flying off your face, and storm off.

#nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader #m.bl

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alfiereot · 4 months ago

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my top 5 video games of all time (w/ recommendations)

Deus Ex Human Revolution

Why I like it

I fell in love with the world of Deus Ex back in 2011. The cyberpunk immersive story of Adam Jensen and his growing involvement against a high elite group illustrated a vision of world based on distrust and control of information. Human Revolution creates an extremely believable future which is inspired and grounded, with an enormous selection for approaching combat. This is probably my most replayed game of all time, and I cannot fathom the hours I’ve spent just reading every single piece of lore the game ever offered me. The immersive sim genre, of which Human Revolution belongs to, is one of the most underrepresented in the industry. I cannot come with an answer of why this is the case, but I think it is widely rewarded that Human Revolution, the successor of one of the genre originators, is a true to name sequel that should be experience at least once.

Other games like it

Deus Ex Mankind Divided: The sequel to Adam Jensen’s story, this is a contender for my favourite game of all time. There are two major reasons on why this has not dethroned Human Revolution as my favourite. The first one is the nostalgia Human Revolution has, as it was one of my first PS3 games. For the second one, you can tell the story presented in Mankind Divided is incomplete. A sequel was under-works but has so far been cancelled by Eidos Montreal new owners. But Mankind Divided is a great game by itself that improves on every system its predecessor introduced, while boasting an incredible city hub that is still lauded to this day.

Prey: I have so far only played the first couple of hours of one Arkane Austin’s most acclaimed games, but even I can tell how much magic the title boosts. The game offers deep combat rooted in the immersive sim genre and created an environment full of secrets to find. Additionally, I have also heard Prey’s DLC, Mooncrash is probably one of the best expansions ever done for a video game. It is quite a shame the game sold so little copies.

God of War: Ragnarök

Why I like it

Originally, I had God of War (2018) as the entry on this list. Over the last couple of months, I have been able to experience the sequel meticulously crafted by Sony Santa Monica, and I can honestly say it surpasses the original in every single way possible. I know one of its gripes is the story is not singularly focused as the one found in 2018, but I honestly believe it is for the better. Every single twist and turn offered by Ragnarök kept me on the edge of my seat, and it reinforced my believe that video games are the best media for storytelling. Maybe it’s the fact you get to experience the story first hand, or that you get to feel Kratos AND Atreus’ struggle firsthand, or just that the medium inherently has more room to breathe, but I do believe my 53 hours experience with Ragnarök, and Valhalla, reflects the best the medium has to offer. My favourite parts of the game are just taking a opportunity to reflect on the events of the story as me, Kratos, Atreus and Mimir told stories to provide a sense of safety and levity.

Other games like it

God of War (2018): If you like Ragnarök you evidently are going to enjoy God of War (2018). I do think it is meant to be enjoyed before Ragnarök, as it was clearly envisioned as a two-part story. This way you get to fall in love with the recurring characters, and you complete the character journey of Kratos and Atreus.

Portal 2: It’s been over a decade since I got a chance to experience Portal 2, so I really need to go back and replay the title. However, I do believe Portal 2 and Ragnarök share some DNA, specially where it comes to dialogue and writing. The first is inherently shorter than Ragnarök, but every single minute is packed with a sense of wonder which is enhanced with the incredible character writing. Whether it is GLADOS coming up with a joke at your expense or Mimir telling a captivating story, I do believe fans can find enjoyment in each one.

Sly Cooper Series

Why I like it

I officially started my gaming life back in the PS2 era of games and, among the plethora of game mascots Sony created for this console generation, I was only able to meet Sly in his first foray into the video game world. As I grown older (and became acquainted with what Ratchet and Jax had to offer) I can say this was one of the best happenstances in my life. The Sly Cooper series (not including Thieves in Time as I haven’t played it) has personally become synonymous with what a great video game should be. Everything from character to level design is immaculately crafted to be its very best, and I have little to no complains about these games. I do hope Sly gets a chance to make a comeback much as like Rachet and Clank have over the years.

Other games like it

SpongeBob SquarePants Battle for Bikini Bottom Rehydrated: My favourite out of the platformer and collectathon games from the SpongeBob franchise is SpongeBob SquarePants The Movie video game, and I am not holding my breathe for it to be remaster, as it is probably a licencing hell which they probably don’t want to deal with. It is for this reason I recommend Battle for Bikini Bottom Rehydrated. Purple Lamp’s immaculate remake has crafted a compelling gameplay experience which exemplifies what this genre needs. If you are a fan of Sly Cooper, especially Thievius Raccoonous, I think you will enjoy SpongeBob BBR as well.

Catherine & Catherine Full Body

Why I like it

I was debating whether to include Persona 5 Royal or Catherine within this list, but I ultimately chose the latter. My nostalgia googles are right and burning for P-Studio’s 2011 puzzle game, and it has been ever since I laid my eyes on the gameplay. Back then, I enamoured with the simple, yet detailed, character animation, as Vincent and the gang felt as ever real every time I logged on to the Stray Sheep. Whilst the story is not groundbreaking, the gameplay is where Catherine, and its remaster, work their magic. To this day, I haven’t been able to find a game where the puzzle system has engrossed me to this degree. Its system is hard to master but incredibly rewarding, and my main reason for wanting a sequel to this underrated gem is basically because I want to move more blocks. Alongside its incredible atmosphere, I wholeheartedly recommend to any puzzle game afficionado this tale of love, magic and blocks.

Other games like it

Persona 5 Royal: There are no other games like Catherine. I could recommend puzzle games the likes of Portal, or a recent favourite like Carto, but there is no other I have played which can offer the experience found on Catherine. So, if you like the other elements which also make Catherine a great game, I recommend Persona 5 Royal. The atmosphere and character writing its P-Studio at its best (still haven’t played P3 Reload), and they were clearly able to take everything they learned in Catherine to create the king of vibes in video games. I personally enjoy the vanilla ending to P5 better than Royal, but I would be foul of me to omit the variety of improvements to the gameplay which makes it sincerely better than the original.

Citizen Sleeper

Why I like it

My history with gaming is mostly relegated to consoles, with some exceptions such as Team Fortress 2. CRPGs has been a genre which has eluded me, and this does, to this day, however, it came to me as a gracious surprise that in 2023, a year boosted by a cornucopia of excellent games, Citizen Sleeper was my favourite game of the year. I generally enjoy sci-fi settings more than fantasy and, within its theme, Citizen Sleeper is superb. I was immediately drawn into the story, on how you are a cyborg* quickly becoming obsolete thanks to your own sense of independence. Its world is extremely beautiful and harsh, and becoming independent in a collapse capitalistic society was an experience of extreme joy and tension. Parallel to this, the game boosts a beautiful soundtrack and marvellous art direction, which makes Citizen Sleeper an easy game to recommend.

*Cyborg is an oversimplification of the arrangement of human conscious and artificial body tale found in Citizen Sleeper.

Other games like it

Tacoma: Tacoma is a beautiful first-person sci-fi narrative game in which you find yourself reliving what happened to the crew of an orbital station with its namesake. The highlight of the video game is its presentation, as it was able to make a believable abandoned space station that definitely felt lived-in, and both the usage of in-game augmented reality and sign language is supremely captivating. With extremely believable sci-fi, both Tacoma and Citizen Sleeper offer a glimpse into their dystopian societies whilst elevating their stories they are trying to tell. Fans of sci-fi will find something to like in either.

#deus ex human revolution #gow ragnarok #sly cooper #catherine full body #citizen sleeper

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kanonavi · 1 year ago

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2023 XVX Fic Recs!

Hi, all, I hope you're having a lovely holiday season! Around the beginning of this year, just for fun, I decided that I would record all of the fanfics that I read this year, and during the summer I had the idea to take some of the best fics I read in 2023 and compile them at the end of the year into a rec list. Since xiaoven was the ship I read the most fics for, I've decided to just do a rec list for them this year, but maybe in the future I'll branch out more!

As with any rec list, please take note of the ratings and the tags for any given fic! Just because something suited my taste doesn't necessarily mean it will suit yours, please take care of yourselves. Now, here are 10* fics that I read this year and think that other xiaoven fans should read too! (Also uh. Sorry for how much I'm about to talk in the reviews lol)

*Keep an eye out for a few bonuses that I've peppered in ;)

We Creatures of Fate, by Wackachu

[Ongoing, Teen, 57.9k, 7/?]

Xiao is a weapon forged from red, carved from the hearts of weeping souls and etched into the memories of grieving mothers. While free under the care of a new God, he finds salvation, yet feels as trapped as the day the chains first clamped down onto his wrists. Venti is a God, one born from the wishes of others as opposed to his own. After losing his loved ones, he can't help but feel lost, high on a throne all alone, built upon all things he despised. The two find each other by chance, yet the rest can only be described as fate. ---------- A telling of Xiao and Venti's story with a hefty load of lore

If there is any fic on this list that should be read, it’s this one. I am an absolute sucker for speculative lore when it comes to Genshin, and the picture that the author has assembled of Archon War-era Liyue is absolutely masterful. Within the threads of that beautiful tapestry, they’ve also been interweaving Xiao and Venti’s developing relationship all the way from when they were a newly-freed Adeptus and young Archon respectively. They have a long journey ahead of them (the burn is slow, folks), and I think that said journey is an absolute must-read.

Extra Recs: Wackachu has also written two other xiaoven one-shots, which I highly recommend for more bite-size pieces of their excellent taste!

the holy light of your single lantern, by boxofcrows (@miralia)

[Complete, Teen, 34k, 6/6]

“Long divided by river and sea, For years we two have failed to meet – And suddenly to find you seems like a dream.” Thousands of years of silence, broken by a single visit.

This fic wrapped up recently, so it’s a great time to go and show it some love! One of my biggest sorrows is that xiaoven is rather lacking in really good canon universe fics compared to other Genshin ships, but this fic managed to fill that hole in my heart. The author does a fantastic job of capturing the way that Xiao and Venti’s conflicting natures and ideals can cause friction between them, all while maintaining the undeniable magnetism that they feel towards each other.

Relax In My Arms, by alphaparrot (@aparrotandaqrow)

[Queerplatonic XiaoVen, General Audiences, 5.9k, One-Shot]

As Lantern Rite arrives, Xiao is found exhausted and spent by Qiqi of Bubu Pharmacy, who brings him back to Liyue. Upon awaking, Xiao quickly makes his exit and returns to Wangshu Inn, where Venti is waiting for him on the balcony. Xiao isn't in the mood to party, but maybe a chill hang-out would help him relax. Venti knows just the thing to help Xiao relax and recuperate, and as they both get comfortable, they begin to reflect....

Author's Original Promo Post!

Queerplatonic xiaoven was a flavor of their relationship that I hadn’t tried before this fic, but it really sold me on it. What I’ve always loved about xiaoven so much is the inherent intimacy that can be achieved between them once all of the emotional barriers between them have been stripped away, and I think that those ideas are explored very beautifully here. Xiao and Venti trust and love each other so deeply here, and it shows in every word and touch that they exchange, and I think that it’s a must-read for anyone whose brain chemistry was altered by the ‘Endless Suffering’ trailer (so basically, every xiaoven fan ever lol)

i can not save us (but you can), by anemowisp (@sillygirl19)

[Teen, 19.4k, One-Shot]

two boys figure out what the hell they're doing

In the midst of one of the most turbulent times in my life, one particular line in this fic really hit me where it hurt, and it’s one of the few times that I’ve actually cried reading a fic. In my xiaoven-enjoying friend groups, we sometimes call Xiao and Venti old men with teenager problems, which means they don't always work when turned into actual teenagers/young adults with those problems, but I think this fic pulls it off really well.

what queer sins stain thy soul, by Anonymous (@sincerelyandyourstruly)

[Mature, 3.2k, One-Shot]

In which Xiao, long-established asexual, learns that identity is not as stable as he’d like to believe.

As an ace person myself, I feel it’s so rare to find a really good asexual character study where the asexuality is actually one of the central focuses of the intimacy taking place (if anyone has any recs of that variety please hit me up!), but I think that this fic pulled that off really well. It also delves into that particular vibe of when one’s identity might be shifting, which can be a really scary thing, but Xiao in this fic is lucky enough to have someone he loves and trusts to support him as he explores his new desires, which was really comforting to read about.

Where Words Fail, by kavvueh (@kavvueh)

[Complete, Teen, 34k, 12/12]

Author's Original Promo Post!

"You're Barbatos," Xiao repeats breathlessly. The young man in front of him nods. "Yep." "But..." Xiao cuts himself off and tries again. "You're the God of songs and poetry." The Anemo Archon nods his head sagely. "More or less." Xiao fixes Lord Barbatos with the most incredulous look he can manage. "... You're failing Music Theory."

As someone who was also suffering through music theory alongside Venti as this fic was publishing, all of the attention to detail in the musical aspects of this fic absolutely tickled me. But all of that was merely a foundation for a lovely story about a pair of souls finding their partner in a new life. The musical connection that xiaoven have is one of the essential tenets of the ship, and this fic did a beautiful job of using that idea to its fullest potential.

Extra Rec: kavvueh has recently started publishing a new xiaoven fic with a similar setting, so if you enjoy these kinds of fluffy modern aus, give that one some love as well!

The Stars in Teyvat are a Lie, and So Is the Sky, by yueyunn

[Complete, Teen, 148.2k, 13/13]

There were several issues that Xiao immediately took with Ningguang’s proposition for him to produce for Barbatos: his other artists had upcoming comebacks and year-end stages that required his attention, he was overworked enough as it were already, and Ningguang was not exactly someone he was looking to do any favors for. While her persistence to overlook all this was one matter, nothing aggravated him more than Ningguang completely ignoring the obstinate fact that he. doesn’t. work. with. idols.

Perhaps I was a bit like Xiao in this fic at the beginning of this year, because I approached the two idol/celebrity aus on my to-read list with open skepticism, and then ended up absolutely adoring them both. What I loved about this fic the most was how much care was put into actually translating the character’s canon backstories into the modern idol au setting. The author clearly has so much love for the characters, and it really shows through in the way that everyone has their chance to shine, even the side characters. This fic also updated recently with 15k words of extras, so it’s a great time to visit or revisit it!

Extra Rec: gold rush, by underthethousandstars was the other idol/celebrity au I read this year and really enjoyed, so if those aus are up your alley, I highly recommend it!

low-key (no pressure!), by windrise (Twitter - @/wyndrise)

[Ongoing, Teen, 75.7k, 11/?]

Following his friend’s questionable suggestion, Venti partners with Xiao—the resident grouch of his early morning stats class—for his music project.

If you want to sit down with a fic that will give you the warm fuzzies, this is definitely the one to pick. As alluded to previously, I don’t really go for modern aus as much, but this fic absolutely blew my expectations out of the water. I was getting the ‘squee’s as I read about Xiao and Venti growing closer over the course of working on Venti’s project, as the author has an excellent grasp of the deep inner kindness that the two of them hold, and how that kindness would naturally draw them together.

bouquet of lies, by underthethousandstars (Twitter - @/zhongliorder)

[Complete, Mature, 85.9k, 12/12]

In a world where humans can use elemental magic, Xiao uses his to move through the shadows becoming Liyue’s phantom killer. Known to the public as Alatus, he is their most notorious assassin. One day Xiao secures his biggest job yet: kill the Crown Prince of Mondstadt, Venti. Harbouring no love towards any royal family Xiao pulls off his mission with success. Or so he thought.

This fic falls solidly on the darker end of xiaoven stories (the ‘Dark Fantasy’ tag is there for a reason!), so if you happen to like your ships with an enemies to lovers flare, this is definitely one to check out. This is one of those stories that really managed to pull me into the world of assassins and political intrigue that the author has crafted, and on top of that it puts a fun spin on exploring Xiao and Venti’s individual guilt and the way that it affects them as people. The first fic in the series is finished, but the second installment is currently in progress, so I highly recommend checking that one out as well!

every morning in the dark, by magicites (Twitter - @/bribird_wings)

[Complete, Mature, 77.1k, 34/34]

Stuck in a time loop where he succumbs to his karmic debt, Xiao struggles to see the point in moving forward. Venti struggles to save him.

While by far the heaviest of any of the fics I’ve recommended so far (mind the warnings and the tags!!), if you can stomach the subject matter, this is one of those fics that I would refer to as XiaoVen Essential Reading. The author has a pitch-perfect grasp of what makes xiaoven, qualities which are pushed to their limits as the two of them struggle to break free of the loop that they’re trapped in. I took severe emotional damage while reading it, but my only regret was that I hadn’t read it sooner. It’s definitely A Lot, but it’s so, so worth it for anyone who really enjoys this pairing.

And with that, we reach the end of the list! If you've made it this far, thank you so much, and I hope I've given you some fics to add to your to-read list for the coming year! I tried to incorporate some newer fics with some classics, so hopefully there's something here you haven't heard from before.

With that said, I'll hopefully be back next year with some more xiaoven or other Genshin fic recs! <3

#genshin impact #xiaoven #venti #xiao #venti genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #fic recs #fic rec list #the ficshelf #Maybe I should make my own rec tag so I stop losing fics I reblog but uhhhh tired :)#I technically cheated with bouquet of lies because I only read the sequel this year #But I feel like it made more sense to rec the first fic in the series instead of the second #Also if anyone I tagged in this doesn't want to be please just let me know and I'll remove you #I don't want to offend anyone's privacy

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wegottagetouttahere · 22 days ago

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Reviewing every (professional) show I saw in 2024

It’s kind of a long post

Professional:

Sleep No More: 4/5 ⭐️ this was a batshit insane experience and I don’t really have anything to compare it to. I would have been content to just walk around the empty scenery because that combined with the top-tier lighting and sound design was engaging on its own. The performers were captivating and the final scene was one of the craziest pieces of live theater I’ve ever watched. Minus one star because they overbooked the night so there were about 1500 people in the building and it was sweltering in there. Also there was constant FOMO just because of how huge the warehouse was, I was sad that there was no way I could possibly see everything.

All The Devils Are Here: How Shakespeare Invented the Villain: 5/5⭐️This show occupies the perfect space between TED talk and masterclass. Patrick Page is an amazing performer, it felt like he was delivering the entire show as a single soliloquy, it was seamless. His transformations into each villain for short pockets of monologues punctuated the history lesson perfectly, and it was clear that everything was extensively researched. I need the book now.

Spamalot: 4/5 ⭐️ This was my first time seeing Spamalot, but I love Monty python so I was very excited to see it, and it did not disappoint! It was absolutely outrageous, I spent the entire night laughing. The set and costumes were very polished, the timing on every joke was perfect, it was everything you’d expect from a revival of an established Broadway classic! Leslie Kritzer was the outstanding actress of the cast, her vocal performance was to die for and she was just hilarious every time she stepped onstage. Ethan Slater was also a powerful presence , he had a ton of roles and his timing was on point. Minus one star because there aren’t enough female roles and also Ethan Slater was there

Turandot at the Metropolitan Opera: 4/5 ⭐️ THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME EVER GOING TO THE METROPOLITAN OPERA AAAAAAA I LOVED IT SO MUCH!!! What an incredible theater. We were wayyyy up in the family circle and the view was breathtaking. Unfortunately it also meant that the upstage wall of the set (I was so excited to see the Zeffirelli set) was completely blocked, so there were parts of the story we couldn’t see. What set we could see was gorgeous, it was crazy to see people perform on a stage of that enormity and not get dwarfed by the scenery. All performances were exceptional, especially SeokJong Baek as Caláf. The chorus also knocked my socks off. Minus one point for set visibility and also because while the music of Turandot is beautiful I’m not that into the story.

The Outsiders: 4/5 ⭐️ WHAT an experience to see the very first preview of the show that won Best Musical this year!! I loved reading the book in middle school so I had some pretty high expectations for the show, and it really blew me away. The two elements that impressed me the most were the staging and the choreography. This show really went all in on the visual aspects and it paid off because what sticks out in my mind nine months later is how fluidly the ensemble moved throughout the entire show. The dancing was INSANE and I still think about the insanity of the Rumble sequence (just those few minutes might be the best thing on Broadway right now). The sound design was also so creative and the SYNCHRONIZATION between the actors, lights, and sound cues was PERFECT. Brent Comer as Darryl Curtis and Tilly Ek as Ace were the standouts to me, though every member of this cast was a powerhouse. The story is very short on women so I was happy that the female ensemble was highlighted frequently. I wasn’t crazy about the music, it was pretty good and the style fit the story but some of it just missed the mark for me. The lyrics were clunky and tended to tell instead of showing. Also the Brody Grant (Ponyboy) wasn’t great at enunciating. Minus one star for that and because despite 90% of the characters being men they decided to write all of them as tenors.

Fat Ham: 5/5 ⭐️I went into this play pretty much blind and didn’t know what to expect, and I loved every second of it. I love Hamlet, and Fat Ham takes the ribbon for best adaptation I’ve ever seen. It perfectly captured the pace and feel of the original play while adding humor and commenting on its ridiculous characters and circumstances. Every time I thought it couldn’t get crazier something even bigger would come and smack me in the face, it felt like one of the Stefan bits from SNL. “This play has everything: Hamlet (or, as he is named in the play, Juicy) singing the entirety of Creep by Radiohead on a karaoke machine, Horatio disappearing for half the play then delivering a ten minute monologue about having sex with a gingerbread man in VR, gay hamlet, gay Ophelia, gay Laertes, straight Horatio, the king’s ghost in a picnic blanket, all this taking place at a cookout dinner, and a finale where Laertes performs in drag and showers the audience with confetti.” It was perfection

The Play That Goes Wrong: 4/5 ⭐️ my mom waited seven years to see this show, so I was very glad to be able to take her finally. It was hilarious! There’s nothing like good old-fashioned prop comedy. One of the marks of any good performance is if you can see the actors having fun onstage, and this cast had the energy of second graders let out to recess. All the moving parts and cues were timed perfectly, and it’s very funny to me that a play that goes wrong on purpose actually requires a great deal more precision because of all the little bits and pieces of the set and props that need to “break” on cue. Sometimes I found the gags a little predictable, but it didn’t detract from the fun. I do wish there were more than two female characters, because even though all the characters are pretty one-dimensional, I still felt like the two women were especially flat, reduced to just fighting with each other for the one role.

#blue’s thoughts :)#sleep no more #spamalot #turandot #the outsiders #fat ham #the play that goes wrong

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padfootagain · 2 years ago

Text

Walking on Water (I)

Part 1

Here we go for a cute little story for Ben Barnes! This was not requested, and I’ve written this a while ago. Just wanted to include a place I’ve been to, because I was looking at the pictures from these vacations and it was super pretty. That’s all!

There are a few links to some pics of the mountains and places I’m talking about, if you want to get an idea of the landscape on the masterpost for this fic (I’ve tried to describe it, but it’s still interesting to have actual illustrations).

It got a bit too long to be a mere oneshot, so I’ve split it into two parts, I guess you can call that a mini-series? Part 2 is already finished, and will be posted in a couple of days!

Hope you like this cute piece! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: None! Fluff, a little bit of angst, Ben being an idiot, the usual… Best friends to lovers, only one bed, mutual pining, almost kissing… honestly, I’ve used so many tropes in this one!

Summary: Going for a trek across the Alps with your best friend aka crush aka love of your life is bound to get you into an awful lot of trouble.

Word count: 5226

“Why is summer so hot?! I’m melting!”

Ben merely chuckled and kept on walking in front of you. Or rather ‘climbing’, considering the slope you had to conquer.

Come with me hike across the Alps, he said. It will be fun, he said…

You regretted every single one of your choices at that moment. You would have expected for the temperature to be fresh at those altitudes, but you were quickly disappointed. You were covered in sweat and dust, under a burning sun, climbing up a mountain when you could have been in your bed reading a good book.

You cursed under your breath the idiot who was responsible for all your misery.

And there he was, walking in front of you. Oh, for sure he was out of breath and sweating as well, but he somehow managed to look good doing it. You did not. And you could not have cared less about how you looked because you could feel a bloody cramp spreading across your calf and that was really the last thing you needed…

You had followed Ben in his crazy idea of walking for four days straight. Going all the way around the Grande Casse, which, undoubtedly was part of the most beautiful spots of the Alps. And that was saying a lot.

But after two full days of walking in the mountains for seven to eight hours, sleeping on uncomfortable beds in shelters, and feeling like every single one of your muscles hurt… you were starting to lose your joyful temper.

But then again, you had planned this with Ben. You had talked about wanting to spend some time in nature, and you both enjoyed walking and running together; whenever Ben was around, of course. He had had a busy year, between acting and his new music projects, so travelling together for the summer sounded like a brilliant idea. Two full weeks lost in some of the most beautiful mountains in Europe. What could possibly go wrong?

Your crazy friend. That was what went wrong.

And sure, the first couple of days spent in a chalet felt like heaven. You relaxed, you visited some pretty sights, you ate good food, and had so much fun finally spending some quality time with your best friend.

But then came the time for the two of you to start this crazy project of yours to walk for four days in a row, sleeping in mountain shelters and enjoying the wonderful landscapes with your best friend. When Ben had proposed this idea, you were excited.

And now… now the harsh reality of it all had caught up with you, and if you could have gotten away with murdering your best friend, you would have pushed him off a cliff, without a doubt.

“Come on, it’s not so bad!” he encouraged you.

He reached a turn in the path, and waited for you there, moving to the side to let other tourists pass.

When you joined him, he handed you your bottle of water with a grin.

And you wanted to punch him in the face so hard…

“I hate you,” you breathed.

You were struggling to catch your breath, drinking the cold water in long gulps. It felt good. It was cooling you down under the burns of the sun. There was no wind to make the heat more tolerable either.

Ben nodded towards the path up ahead. He was out of breath as well.

“We’re going to reach some trees over there. It should be easier in the shade.”

“I hate you,” you repeated, handing him back your bottle so he could put it back in the little net on the side of your backpack. “Why did you convince me to do this again?”

He laughed, a bright, wonderful laugh, before he pointed at something behind you.

“That’s why.”

You turned around, and took in the breathtaking view.

You had reached a turn in the path, and there was a clear view of the mountains from there. You were too busy looking at your feet to avoid falling because of roots and rocks during your climb, too busy struggling with your breathing and this horrible heat to actually pay attention to your surroundings.

This was a nice and necessary reminder.

Before you a field of wild flowers – purple, red, yellow and white – descended along the side of the mountain you were climbing: a peak on your left that fell abruptly at first, but then more smoothly, gently enough to let grass, bushes and flowers grow. Further on the right, the mountain you stood upon stopped, or rather you lost sight of it beyond pine trees. And beyond these trees, you could see the mountains on the other side of the valley. They faced you with all their height and might, chiselled rocks that seemed to be reaching for the azure sky above, fingers thrown upwards trying to hold the firmament. The tops of the sharp peaks were painted with splashes of white, eternal snow that never melted. They were like innocent spots across black stone.

And all around you, in all direction, as far as the eye could see, it was just mountains. Peaks and falls and snow and forests of greens and golds.

It truly was indescribable. Some of the most beautiful things you had ever seen…

You slowly nodded.

“That’s a pretty good argument.”

But when you turned to Ben again, you were glaring at him.

“Won’t save you from my wrath though.”

Your best friend merely laughed again, readjusting his old red cap upon his head.

“You’ve always been merciless,” he teased, an annoying grin plastered on his features.

He brushed away a couple of droplets of sweat that were rolling down the side of his face, from his temple down to his jawline.

“Have to admit though that walking under this heat is quite painful,” he added, taking a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

“How long till we reach the shelter?”

“Two hours.”

“I’m going to die.”

“Of course not. I would then have to carry your corpse all the way down the mountain, and that would be way too much effort. So, I’m forbidding you to do so.”

“How generous of you. You could always leave my body here.”

“For your family to kill me? No, thank you.”

You let out a laugh, and he soon joined you.

“It is a pretty sight though,” you nodded once more, letting your gaze drift back to the landscape splayed before you.

You didn’t see Ben’s tender smile as he kept on looking at you.

“It is a beautiful sight, indeed…”

But even if you enjoyed this short break, you still had a long way to go to reach the shelter. You heaved a sigh, turning towards the path again.

You walked for about twenty minutes until the path slowly faded, from a clear line to a mere passage drawn through the grass by the many footsteps of hundreds of hikers. You followed this passage through the tall grass and flowers that tickled your calves and perfumed the air with a sweet smell. You kept on walking until you reached a barrier, made of barbed wire. In the distance, you could hear bells ringing, breaking the quiet of the peaceful scenery: you needed to cross a field where cows were grazing.

You found the handle that allowed you to detach a segment of the wire so you could cross, and you entered the field with Ben. You stopped to admire the cows, remaining at a respectful distance of the quiet animals. They didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the two of you though, eating grass and wildflowers while the bells around their necks rang loudly in the motionless air. Butterflies flew from flower to flower as well, adding even more splashes of colour upon the idyllic landscape. Beyond the cows and field, you could still see the same tall mountains that rose majestically on the other side of the valley.

You were about to start walking again, laughing at Ben as he tried to get rid of an annoying fly, when you heard an animal walking towards you.

It was a donkey. Grey with cute, darker ears and a lazy pace that made you wonder if he really was walking purposefully towards you and Ben or if he was simply minding his own business, and you happened to be on his way.

You had to admit that you looked at the quiet animal with some worry, not sure how to react. Ben, however, had an adorable smile on his face.

“Hi, there,” he said in a calm, welcoming voice.

The animal stopped, seemed to study the two of you, and took a couple more steps to get right in front of Ben.

“You should be careful…” you advised him, but Ben rolled his eyes.

“This guy seems quite calm.”

He tentatively rose his hand, gave the donkey’s nose a few scratched, and the animal wriggled his ears in an appreciative way.

You took the opportunity to take a couple pictures, while Ben was grinning like a boy, still petting the donkey.

“This guy’s very friendly!” he grinned. “You should pet him!”

But you were hesitant…

“Come on!” Ben encouraged you. “Look, he’s very calm.”

Before you could protest, he held your hand in his and guided your palm to rest on the donkey’s muzzle.

The fur was surprisingly soft under your touch. Ben’s touch was burning your hand, it seemed…

You were struggling to breathe, and it was not because of the donkey.

Ben looked down at you with tender eyes, his grin growing fonder and brighter at the same time.

“It’s pretty great, isn’t it.”

You couldn’t help but nod.

“Yeah, pretty great.”

You realized then that you had taken a step closer to Ben, and that you were standing very close, shoulder to shoulder. When you looked up at him, you noticed the way he turned away in a hurry. After spending three days in a row outside, he had caught small sunburns on his cheekbones and on the tip of his nose. Nothing painful, but enough for the skin to turn into an adorable shade of red. You were certain though that he seemed redder than before, as if he were blushing.

He let go of your hand.

“We should get going,” he said, looking away again and he started walking without waiting for your answer.

He didn’t want you to realize that his face was on fire. That even his ears were on fire, actually. That his heart was pounding because of you, because of your fingers under his, because of your shoulder resting gently against his arm, because of the light of the bright sun in your eyes…

He heard you hurrying behind him, and he forced himself to slow down. He took a few deep breaths, calming down.

He had been so good these past few days at hiding the way he truly felt about you, he couldn’t just… show it now and blow everything away and destroy all that you had built together along the years…

No, no… he couldn’t do this. It was too much of a risk to take to tell you about his feelings for you.

For a while, he had thought it was a mere crush, that it would pass. But time had flown by, carrying weeks, and months and years and it seemed that it only got worse. Only got more intense.

The more time went by, the more he was falling desperately in love with you.

He really, really was an idiot for falling in love with his best friend…

“Huh… Ben… I think we have a problem…”

He turned around, and indeed, you had a problem. A problem in the form of a donkey.

Because that friendly animal apparently wanted more than just scratches. He was following you across the field, and had started sniffing your backpack suspiciously.

You hurried to reach your friend, and bravely hid behind him.

“What do we do?”

Ben couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he got an apple out of his bag, and handed it to the animal.

“I reckon that’s why he was so friendly. He was hoping for a treat.”

Indeed, the donkey grabbed Ben’s apple and started munching on it, bits dropping on the grass.

“Let’s make an escape while he’s distracted,” you proposed, and you resumed your walk towards the other side of the field.

When you crossed the barbed wire again, the donkey had started following you once more. He let out a loud cry as Ben walked away.

“You’re really good at making new friends,” you complimented Ben, making him laugh.

“This one’s a little too intrusive though. Very stubborn,” he joked.

He patted the donkey one last time from the across the wires though, before turning away.

“You really do make friends everywhere you go.”

“That’s because I’m absolutely charming, obviously.”

He was joking of course, a giggle badly hidden in his voice and ready to come out at your reply. But your tone was not as humorous as he had expected it to be when you answered.

“Hmm… well, you are quite charming, that’s true.”

You didn’t laugh, and he guessed that you weren’t joking, not fully anyway.

He blushed even more fiercely than before, and was grateful that you were walking in front of him, so you could not see his crimson cheeks.

Le refuge du col de la Vanoise.

Last shelter of your crazy trip, before going down to a village down the mountain the next day.

There was an older building built in stone at the beginning of the 20th century, but that was not the building where you would be spending the night. You would be sleeping in the large, modern one made of wood and metal that sat by its side. When you arrived, you first saw it coming up from the path, its rectangular shape resting at the foot of a peak covered in snow and black stones. You had to admit that it was an impressive sight to see, it seemed ridiculously small next to the large shape of the peak, that some people were brave enough to attempt climbing.

When you turned to Ben, he was grinning, a dreamy expression painted over his features.

“That is one hell of a view to spend the night, don’t you think?”

He finally turned to you, and you couldn’t argue with his statement.

“I think if we walk a bit further, we can even reach the snow, look,” you added, pointing towards the fading grass, where the slope became more intense again and the ground lost any trace of green, in favour of dark grey rocks, that were splashed with stains of white snow.

“That would certainly cool us down,” he laughed.

You had noticed that the air was chiller now, but with so much effort put into trekking, you hadn’t felt the need to put on a pullover yet. The gush of wind that followed made you reconsider your decision, though.

Over 2500 metres above sea level… That was pretty high, you reckoned… And you looked up at the peaks above you, that seemed so close, reachable now, you truly realized how far you had walked in just three days. When you had started, they seemed to be so high above you, unreachable at the time.

You followed Ben as he walked towards the mountain shelter. Black t-shirt hugging his frame, a black backpack, grey shorts and his old red cap, its colours had fainted long ago but he still wore it often. You had gifted him that stupid cap ages ago. Almost… almost a lifetime ago, it seemed.

For how long had the two of you known each other? You had stopped counting. It felt like he had always been here, with you. There had been a change in what you saw in him along the years. Slow, barely noticeable at first. Something that settled in your heart without you noticing, that grew stronger with each minute you spent together. When you realized what it was, it was too late already. You couldn’t go back. You couldn’t see a mere friend in him anymore.

But how could you tell your best friend that you loved him?

It seemed impossible, unfeasible, unreachable. Just like reaching the top of this mountain. You felt too small to achieve such a thing.

A thousand things could go wrong, and you would have rather kept him in your life as your friend than try to have more and lose everything. So, you dated other people, and he had a love life of his own. Somehow though, you always ended up with a glass of wine in his apartment every Friday night. Somehow, he always called you when he was away on Sunday mornings. You watched movies together even if you were thousands of miles apart. You talked to him on the phone until he fell asleep. He listened to you for hours complain about work. He looked at you with this expression in his eyes that was so full of tenderness that you melted everytime.

And you thought, sometimes, as if caught in a dream, as if yielding to a moment of madness, that perhaps… perhaps he felt the same. Perhaps he had stopped seeing you as a friend at one point. Perhaps he loved you too.

But how could you tell your best friend that you loved him?

While you were lost in these thoughts of yours, some that were becoming quite frequent these days, you had reached the shelter, and Ben was checking with the guardian about your reservation. You were still too distracted by your own worries to pay attention to the conversation Ben was leading, in a mix of French and English. You did notice the few French words he spoke though; they made your heart jump every time.

You focused harder on the conversation though, when you heard Ben repeat himself several times. You saw him reaching for his phone in his pocket, and he showed his digital copy of the reservation to the keeper. The bearded man stared at the screen. He looked like he was about fifty, with a face marked by years spent under the wind and sun.

He nodded, taking his time to choose his words as he answered in English, but with a heavy accent.

“I can see that you have booked two beds. There must have been a mistake.”

He shrugged, emphasizing his gesture to show what he meant, in case Ben would have not understood his English. But he had, and so had you.

He lifted a finger to show the two of you to wait. He disappeared inside the shelter, looking for something. You asked Ben what was going on.

“Apparently there was a mistake and they have registered only one bed for us.”

“What? Does that mean we can’t sleep here tonight?”

“I don’t know. The guy is gone looking for something, apparently.”

“But we can’t reach the town tonight, it’s several hours away…”

Ben rested a soothing hand on your arm.

“I’m sure we’ll find a solution, don’t worry. We’re in the middle of the mountains, they’re not going to just abandon on us to spend the night out there.”

Right at that moment, the keeper came back. He had an apologizing smile on his face as he explained the situation, slowly, struggling to find his words sometimes.

The shelter was fully booked for tonight. He couldn’t explain the problem with the online booking system, and it didn’t matter. What mattered was that you needed a place to stay for the night, and it wasn’t an option for the two of you to go somewhere else.

He had found an extra mattress, along with a dozen of blankets. You would still be missing a bed, but you could use the old mattress and the extra blankets to sleep on the floor, while still being at least a little comfortable.

Ben and you exchanged a glance, but there wasn’t anything else to be done. And this poor man before you had no better option either, he couldn’t summon a bed, after all.

So, Ben helped the keeper to carry the mattress across the building, until you reached the corner of a large dormitory filled with many beds. They put down the mattress, along with the blankets, right next to a single bed set in the corner.

But, despite the seven layers of blankets added to the mattress, Ben couldn’t refrain a laugh as he laid down to test his bed for the night, after the French man had left the two of you alone.

“If I can get up again tomorrow morning, it will be a miracle,” he chuckled, running a finger through his hair before replacing his cap on his head.

“Is it that bad? I can sleep on the floor…”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just… destroy my back during the night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous…”

“I’m not. Help me up, would you?”

You offered him your hand, rolling your eyes at him.

You pulled with all your strength to tease him, making him almost fall as he got up. And it made you both laugh but also… It made him hold onto you to keep his balance, and when he looked down at you, you were very close.

Desperately close.

And being so close to you, with your hand still in his, so close that he could feel the air leaving your lungs come to brush his lips, he couldn’t look away from your eyes. He was trapped inside them. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. He could only stare, and take in the warmth of your skin against his, and the way he wanted to bend down and finally…

You both jumped as the door of the dormitory opened, and the spell was broken.

You did find snow a few meters away from the shelter.

You did enjoy a nice evening sharing a meal with a hilarious Italian couple, two French sisters, and an old French guy who had been coming here every summer for twenty years.

It was a light evening, filled with stars and funny stories shared with strangers and an awful lot of wine and cheese.

The temperature had dropped considerably during the evening, and when you finally headed to bed around 11pm, you were happy to stay in the shelter and not outside, in a tent.

When you let yourself fall onto the bed, you couldn’t refrain a sigh of relief. Some people sharing the room were already asleep, and you whispered when you saw Ben coming in from the showers. He was still drying his hair with a towel, his dark locks completely dishevelled. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with a pair of dark jogging trousers.

“I’m so tired,” you whispered as he sat down at the end of your bed.

He yawned, as if to agree with your statement.

“We need to get up early tomorrow. Lots of walking to be done,” he added, his tone matching yours in the quiet room while he rubbed the towel against his rebellious hair.

You threw a glance at the mattress on the floor by the side of your bed, and heaved a sigh.

“You shouldn’t sleep on that thing, by the way.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll break your back.”

“It’s better than the floor.”

“You can sleep with me.”

You stared at each other for a moment. You realized you were staring but so was he. You were trapped in his brown eyes again, as usual. You always were…

The room was quiet, peaceful. Outside the wind had started to blow, got caught in the rocks of the mountains around the shelter. It howled. In the dormitory, you were the only ones talking, your voices mere whispers. On the opposite side of the room, someone was softly snoring.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a voice even lower than before, full with something kind and delicate, fond, almost loving…

You shrugged, trying to hide behind a casual gesture how nervous you truly were.

“Of course. We’ve been friends for… how long?”

“Too much to count at this point,” he answered with an amused smile, but his dark eyes remained on you.

“So… I reckon we can share a bed. We’ve done worse.”.

“Alright,” he nodded, finally freeing you from his intense stare.

He threw the towel on his bag, ran his fingers through his hair to tame the rebel strands. He was avoiding your gaze, but you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice either that he was blushing.

More people walked inside the room, there were only five minutes left before the main lights of the room would be turned off, so that everyone could go to sleep. Or at least, those who didn’t want to spend most of their night outside, enjoying some music and some happy conversations. You were too tired to join them though.

“Move over then, or I’ll have to crush you,” Ben joked, finally turning towards you and waiting for you to lie on your side so he would have enough space next to you.

You both tried to get comfortable, it was quite difficult in the tiny space of the single bed.

“You’ll lose any part of you that touches me during the night by the way,” you joked in a half-threatening tone.

“Alright, but then I’ll push you off the bed if you start snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do. Trust me, you do.”

You both chuckled, but didn’t manage to get comfortable for a while. He winced when your cold feet collided with his.

“How come your toes are so cold! How have they not fallen off yet?” he complained, making you roll your eyes.

But Ben stopped moving, and seemed to think for a second. He threw a glance at the pile of blankets on the empty mattress, before turning to you again.

“Would you prefer not to share the blankets? We have some extra ones. You can keep these two, and I can lie on top of them and get some for myself.”

You considered his offer, but shook your head.

“It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. You?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“If you steal all the blankets though, I will leave your body to be devoured by vultures.”

“Always so violent, Y/N…”

But he was chuckling, finally settling in a comfortable position. He was on the edge of the bed, but he didn’t seem to mind. A hand under the pillow, he was lying on his side, facing you. You could see his body finally relaxing, and he heaved a satisfied sigh.

“That feels nice,” he smiled. “I have to admit… it was a tiring day. My legs are very sore.”

“I thought you weren’t in pain. I thought you loved climbing.”

“Shut it.”

It was your time to chuckle as you eventually settled down. You didn’t notice that your position matched Ben’s. Hand under the pillow, facing him…

Only when you rested your cheek against the soft cotton did you notice that Ben and you were face to face, so close…

So close… close enough for you to fall in his eyes immediately, irises so dark they seemed the same colour as his pupils. You could feel his breath brushing your lips, the air leaving your lungs mingling in the small space between your faces. Only a few centimetres separated your bodies, you were so close that you couldn’t lay your hand flat on the mattress across the space between your bodies. Instead, your hand was partially closed, and when Ben moved his fingers a little, his knuckles brushed against yours. You didn’t move, but stopped breathing, still lost in his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, and you noticed how his breathing quickened, how he retrieved his fingers instantly, the touch disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. You stared for a few more seconds in silence.

But then it was back. Feathery, and hesitant. The touch of his knuckles against yours, brushing his skin against yours. Warm. Delicate. Slow, as if asking for permission. You didn’t move, and so he didn’t stop.

When he extended his fingers a little more, you opened your hand as well, slowly, as if to invite him in. To invite him to hold your hand in his. And he almost did, moving his fingers around yours. He was about to close them when he paused.

“Maybe I should… turn around. Would that make it… easier?”

Make it easier?

For you to fall asleep? Or for the two of you to act like this wasn’t happening? Like your heart wasn’t pounding, like his breathing wasn’t a mess, like your skin wasn’t on fire, like he didn’t have butterflies all over his stomach, like you didn’t want to close the gap between your bodies and finally run your fingers through his hair, like he didn’t want to lean in and finally kiss you and hold your face in his hands to keep you close…

Would that make it easier if he turned away?

“I don’t know. I’m not sure you should,” you answered in a whisper.

You moved your fingers against his, as if you encouraged him to imprison your hand in his. And he did start to bend his knuckles, to close the trap of his warm skin around yours…

…and then the lights went off.

You had been accustomed to the light, and in this new darkness you couldn’t see a thing. You felt Ben’s movement stop, as he was surprised as well by the sudden blindness.

And somehow, the spell was broken.

You pulled your hand away and turned around as quickly as you could, your back now facing him. You closed your eyes tightly. You tried to calm down…

“Good night, Ben,” you let out in a breath.

He blinked a few times, trying to get accustomed to the night. There was a little bit of light in the room, from the stars outside and the sign indicating the emergency exits. They were enough for him to see your shape after a few seconds. He stared at the form of your shoulders, opened his mouth to respond, to argue…

He lifted his hand slowly, bringing his palm closer to your back. He stopped millimetres away from your shoulder blade, hand open and ready to rest gently on your t-shirt. But he didn’t close the gap. He didn’t touch you. He kept his fingers there, still in mid-air, still close enough to feel the heat escaping your body and warming the world around you. But he didn’t close the gap, he closed his fist instead as he let his hand fall by his side.

He clenched his jaw, shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds. He wanted to call your name…

He didn’t.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You felt the bed caving under his weight as he turned around as well. You waited until he had stopped shifting his weight around to let out the breath you had been holding. You were grateful he couldn’t see the tear that rolled down your cheek.

***************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes fic #ben barnes series #fanfiction #fanfic #series #writing

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davidpincher · 1 year ago

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i posted last week about how i went to watch oppenheimer as part of barbenheimer & then ended up writing a 900 word essay about it. three people asked to see the essay so here it is:

a three hour anxiety attack

i watched oppenheimer; had dinner, watched barbie and then showered. i cant stop thinking about this movie. the thing about christopher nolan movies is that there’s always a part of them that makes me remember why i love movies, a part of me that is reminded of their power in the way that they make me feel things. most succinctly, yes, this movie is a three hour anxiety attack because i spent the entirety of the movie anxious, knowing little about this film other than that an atomic bomb is going to be made and dropped on hiroshima and nagasaki.

while i was much too dumb to understand the timeline of events, christopher nolan still makes such a foreign experience feel personal and familiar. relatable even, even though the times have changed. people have always been people, flawed and trusting and selfish. there’s the case of the spy, a jewish man, much like oppenheimer, that oppenheimer initially trusts out of community in hard times. you can understand oppenheimer’s devotion to the war, as someone so personally affected by it. there’s something personal, in the orchestration of the betrayal by robert downey jr (i cannot remember his characters name, truly, he was not that memorable), and how oppenheimer goes from respected to blacklisted. people are petty and cruel. i don’t think i’ve ever seen a movie with a sex scene that i found added to the plot of characters, but there is something so powerful in jean’s death being the only one explicitly shown on screen: humans are selfish and will be our own demise because we, more often than not, cannot find the empathy to care for people who we don’t know. it’s the trolley problem - the death of a lover or the death of hundreds of thousands, or even, the very end of the world.

there’s one line of dialogue that hasn’t left my mind since i finished watching this movie, almost ten hours ago now. it’s the moment in which they’re discussing what cities to bomb, and one character goes ‘not kyoto. there’s too much culture. plus my wife and i honeymooned there’ or something of the sort. it’s the kind of moment that shocked me, how the lives of hundreds of thousands of civilians were held in the hands of a guy making decisions based on his honeymoon. it’s the most memorable example of the question ‘who had the right to power’, regarding people’s lives, that consumes this movie. who has the right to create and use a weapon of mass destruction? another that i think of, is the scene with truman. i think that christopher nolan has portrayed a president more accurately than any other piece of media in the past: the president is not just some boss man, he is a guy appointed to look over entire fields he could not possibly understand the weight of, not even if he tried. truman’s depiction in this movie - as does everyone’s, honestly - feels so real because every single person has flaws. everyone here is so deeply flawed and insufferable, even oppenheimer, who likely is only slightly better because he’s aware of it all.

in high school, i was forced to spend two entire years studying world war two and the cold war from every perspective - japan, germany, italy, the united states, the soviet union, china, france and england. so of course, the questions of the ethics and necessity of the dropping of the atomic bomb came up, and there are so many discussions to be had within that. and yet, there wasn’t enough in this film. maybe this is a good thing, given that would require the opinions and analysis of the work of many historians that would likely derail the vision of nolan’s film, it would’ve meant a lot to the little nerd in me specifically.

oppenheimer opposes the hydrogen bomb because if the united states has one; the soviet union, their enemies at the time, would be forced to make one too. on a side note, another moment in this film that made my gut wrench was when this claim is denied on the belief that russia does not have the resources, or knowledge to compete with the united states. and god what a fucking blessing and curse is hindsight, as underestimating russia and the soviet union during a war is just as relevant today. this makes an interesting biopic to me because everyone knows about the atomic bomb. everyone knows about chernobyl and nuclear power. in fact, in the very basic level science classes i took, the world nuclear power became synonymous with chernobyl. bad things happen, and we know it, and this movie helps to warn us a bit about it.

enough on the history nerd stuff i truly did forget how much of my life i spent studying history, even if i only stopped just over a year ago. the sound design of this movie was fucking insane. every piece of audio, the line delivery, everything, made me feel so much (besides rdj - i get what people say about people having faces that know what iphones are) the shots were fucking masterful and despite being a three hour film, there was not a single moment (beyond the sex scenes mayhaps) that i felt dragged on for longer than they needed to. once again, just to end this off, god i fucking loved the sound of this movie, the build up, the anxiety, everything. while i most certainly have not seen enough christopher nolan to say definitively that this is his best work, i can most certainly see why people would say it is so.

#barbie #barbenheimer #oppenheimer #christopher nolan #film #oppenheimer essay

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ariaetherium · 8 months ago

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GOJO SATORU ONE SHOT

WARNINGS: EXPLICIT SMUT/ MDNI

She was nothing to me. I’m fucking Gojo Satoru, the most powerful man in the world. Getting pussy isn’t a problem. I didn't waste a single thought on her after she ended things... I never jerked off while thinking of her, especially not with those lacy pink panties pushed up against my nose that were left behind when she moved out. She left me. That bitch left me. I fucking hate her. I could’ve just shipped her the rest of her things, but a part of me still wanted to see her one last time.

“Are you done yet? I have shit to do.” Satoru barked from his seat on the couch as he watched Isana shuffling through the apartment, searching for the last of her things that she might have forgotten after she moved.

“Yeah yeah… don’t worry I’ll be out of here before your flavor of the night shows up.” Isana’s voice echoed against the walls. Before she was about to step into his bedroom, she paused. A photo of them, taken when they were happy for a moment in time, still hung on the wall. A slight ache gripped her chest as she looked at their smiling faces and she took a deep breath.

No Isa. It’s not sentimental. He’s just a lazy piece of shit. He doesn’t care and he doesn’t want you.

Without another thought, she walked into his bedroom, what used to be their bedroom. She quickly grabbed whatever was left of her clothes, but stopped when a flash of pink caught her eye. Isana quickly walked over to Satoru’s side of the bed and picked up his pillow.

The fuck? I’ve been looking for these. How... why on Earth are they in his pillowcase? Fucking weirdo.

Isa took another moment and decided to leave them there. Decided that those would be her parting gift to him since she planned on never seeing him again after this. She hated him. At least that’s what she told herself. She had to, or else she’d come crawling back, and she knew if she ever did that… nothing would change. He’d still be the same asshole.

"If you're done here," Satoru said, his tone still harsh, "you can go." He stood in the doorway looking at Isana as she held the last of her things. His lips pressed into a thin line, he willed himself to say something, anything that might make her stay. But he knew better, it was over.

“Yeah, I’m done. I’m leaving.” She whispered as she pushed past him. She slowly walked to the door. "Goodbye, Satoru..." Isana turned around, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment before she turned the doorknob and stepped out.

Satoru forced himself not to react as he watched the door open and close before him. He stood there for a moment, feeling empty inside. He knew he should be glad that she was gone, that she didn't belong here anymore. But for some reason, he couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. He sighed and walked over to the couch, sitting down heavily. His mind began to wander, thinking about all the time they had spent together, all the memories they shared. He closed his eyes, trying to push those thoughts away. But they kept coming back, haunting him. Maybe he should have tried harder, done something different. But it was too late now. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Isana stood there frozen outside the entrance of Satoru’s apartment.

It’s over… it’s really over. Fuck. Don’t you dare cry, don’t you dare…

Unable to hold back the tears any longer, she let them fall freely as she tried to regain control of her emotions. After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned around and knocked on the door.

Satoru's eyes snapped open when he heard the knock on the door. He quickly wiped away any traces of emotion from his face before opening the door. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice cold and uninviting.

Isana’s anger boiled over as she pushed him through the threshold. “WHY?” She demanded.

Satoru was taken aback by her sudden outburst, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Isa-”

"Why didn’t you fight for us? For me? Did it all mean nothing to you?"

Satoru found himself pinned against the wall, her hands clamped tightly onto his shirt. Her eyes glared into his, brimming with tears yet fiery with anger.

"Isana," he choked out, his voice a mere whisper compared to her booming voice. But she pressed further, her grip tightening on his shirt.

"Answer me, Satoru," she demanded, her voice trembling, barely holding back the flood of tears. "Did you ever love me at all? Or was I just another one of your mindless flings?"

"I... I don't know what you want me to say, Isana," Satoru stammered, his hands helplessly reaching out towards her. She slapped them away and her hazel eyes bore into his, blazing with fury and hurt.

It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room. The echo of Isana's angry words hung between them, thick and unyielding.

"Say something," she hissed, pushing herself away from him. Satoru was silent for a moment, his mind racing to piece together a response that would cool her wrath. "You think I just... used you?" He took a deep breath and took a step closer to her. “You.. you were never just a fling. Fuck dude.” He ran his hand through his disheveled hair as he shook his head. "I cared about you," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I couldn't give you what you wanted. I'm sorry."

Isana’s hands flew up in exasperation. “What?” she hissed, “What the fuck does that even mean? That you couldn’t fully commit to me? Is that it?”

Satoru looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "It's not that," he muttered. "It's just... I have my reasons." He took a deep breath, trying to find the words to make her understand. "Look," he said, turning back to face her. "I want you to be happy. I really do. But I'm not the one for you. Besides, you fucking left me. Remember? Yeah. So fuck you, Isana." He hissed through gritted teeth.

Isana flinched as if she had been struck. "I left you," she spat out, her voice dripping with venom. "I left you because you pushed me away, Satoru! I thought you didn’t want me anymore!" Satoru was taken aback. He hadn't expected her to say that. He had assumed she left out of anger or frustration, not because...she thought he had wanted it?

“Do you know how hard it is being the most powerful sorcerer in the world? Huh? I have bitches throwing themselves at me left and right. But I chose you.” Satoru growled as he took a step towards her.

“Oh fuck y-”

But before she could finish her sentence, Satoru had his hand around her throat and pinned her against the wall.

“I fucking hate you for leaving me,” he snarled into her ear.

A wicked grin flashed across Isana’s face. “I found the panties you pervert. I know you still want me,” she whispered in a husky voice.

Satoru’s gaze hardened as his eyes narrowed on her.

“You’ve been sniffing my panties and jerking off to the thought of fucking me again, haven’t you?” Isana continued to taunt him.

Satoru’s fingers dug into her throat, tightening their grip as he pushed her head forcefully against the wall. He spoke through gritted teeth, his face inches away from hers. “Maybe I have. But… You don’t get to just leave me, Isa. That makes you a... Very. Bad. Girl.” His breath was hot against her lips as he leaned in closer. “And you do know what happens to bad girls?” With a teasing slap on her cheek, he whispered, “They get punished.”

Isana's eyes widened as an unfamiliar thrill of anticipation ran down her spine. " Oh really?" she managed to say, her voice strained from the pressure on her throat. Her smile was daring, mocking even, as she met his stormy gaze. "You lost that privilege the day I left you."

Satoru's grip loosened slightly and he pulled away from her throat just enough for her to breathe. His hand reached out and gripped the back of her head, his fingers weaving into her hair as he yanked it back. His eyes never left hers - wild and threatening.

"Oh, did I now?" he said, his tone laced with dangerous calmness. "Tell me Isana," he lowered his face so that their noses brushed against each other, "Have you met anyone who can make you feel the way I did?" His breath ghosted over her lips as he spoke, his voice a seductive whisper that was all at once a cruel reminder of what they once shared.

His chest was heaving with the intensity of his feelings, the raw need for her pulsating through every nerve. A strange cocktail of anger, desire and regret painted his face. "You chose to leave, Isana. You gave up on us."

"I did." she gasped, her breath hitching as he yanked her hair again. "I left because you treated me like I was nothing! Because I couldn't stand being second to your... to everything else.”

“You stupid fucking bitch. You’re so blind. I’ve never wanted anything as much I want you.” He growled as he took her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down, hard.

Isana's eyes shot wide open, a sharp cry shattering the tension-filled silence. The pain was forgotten as soon as it came, replaced by a sudden surge of desire. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't deny the thrill his dominance sparked in her. "Ah," she whimpered, her hands instinctively reaching out to clutch onto the arm that pinned her against the wall.

"Is that so?" she managed to breathe out, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart in her ears. She let out a shallow gasp as he released her lip from between his teeth, her head falling back against the wall as she tried to steady her breathing. "Then prove it. Show me you want me more than anything else."

For a split second, silence hung in the air between them, so thick it felt like time itself had stopped. Then without a warning, Satoru's lips crashed onto hers in a devastating kiss. His tongue claimed her mouth with a hunger that matched the burning need in his eyes.

His hands roamed her body as if he was starved, the raw desire in his touch leaving no room for resistance. "You want proof?" he rasped against her lips before pulling away, his eyes holding a dangerous glint. "You will get it, Isana. I’ll be the only thought in your fucking head once I’m through with you."

His fingers dug into her waist, unyielding and possessive, as he ground himself against her in a crude reminder of their shared intimacy.

“This is your proof,” he growled into her ear as he put her hand on his throbbing cock. “Every kiss, every touch, every fucking second I wanted you but you weren't there. Getting rid of me won't be as easy as you thought.”

"Promises, promises," Isana mocked, even as her body was already responding to his touch.

Her knees felt weak as she involuntarily squeezed the outline of his length in her hand, her breath hitching as his hand slid up under her shirt, fingers tracing a hot trail along her skin.

"Are you scared, Isana?" Satoru breathed against her neck, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Or is this what you wanted? To feel my hands on you again?"

Her response was stifled by a choked gasp as his fingers began to deftly explore her body. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to regain control, but she was powerless under his touch. "You… you don't know what I want," she managed to rasp out, her words fighting to break through the haze of anticipation that clouded her senses.

"Don’t I?" Satoru challenged, a predatory grin spreading across his face as he felt her body tremble under his touch. Suddenly, he pulled back, letting go of her hair, leaving Isana panting and disoriented. "Maybe I do... or maybe I just like the way you squirm under my touch. Maybe I enjoy watching the fight leave your eyes as you give in to me." His voice was low and dangerous, a contrast to the tender way his fingers traced her jawline.

"You... You're wrong..." Isana stammered, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice. Her body betrayed her, her hips bucked as his fingers explored her most intimate area. "I won't... I won't just give in."

"Yeah?" Satoru's eyes sparkled with a challenging glint, he pulled his hand from her pants to travel up her sides, causing goosebumps to erupt across her skin. "Let's see how long you can keep on resisting." His hand reached the clasp of her bra, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he deftly unhooked it.

A soft whimper escaped Isana's lips as she felt her bra loosen, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. But Satoru was quick, his hands replacing hers as he roughly pulled away the fabric.

"Stop," she whimpered, but her plea was half-hearted at best. The thrill of his touch was addictive, and her body betrayed her once again by arching into his hands. He claimed her exposed flesh with his mouth, leaving a fiery trail of kisses from the hollow of her neck to her exposed breasts.

"Satoru," she gasped out, her fingers threading through his hair in an attempt to anchor herself. The heat pooling in her belly was bordering on unbearable and she found herself yearning for more despite the voice in her head screaming for caution.

"Tell me to stop again, Isana," Satoru murmured against her skin before taking her hard nipple into his mouth, teasing the sensitive bud with his teeth.

The taste of her on his tongue was intoxicating, an addicting flavor he’d been deprived of for too long. "Fuck they taste so good. Such perfect fucking titties.” He groaned as he switched to her other breast. “Tell me to stop if you really don't want this." He challenged knowing her resolve was weakening with every flick of his tongue.

Isana’s gasp turned into a strangled moan as the sensation shot straight to her core, setting her nerves on fire. Her body instinctually moved against him, at the mercy of the pleasure he was skillfully manipulating. "I... I can't..." she bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the searing heat of his touch.

He tugged at the waistband of her pants, a clear indication of the boundaries he was ready to cross.

A victorious grin spread across Satoru's face as he heard her words, the admission of her surrender. "That's what I thought," He chuckled darkly against her skin, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her hip before slipping between her thighs.

"Satoru," Isana whimpered, both a plea and a sigh laced with reluctant desire. She felt him smirk against her flesh, his fingers dancing lightly over her throbbing clit.

"Say my name again." He demanded, his voice laced with a dark pleasure. His expert touch set off tiny explosions of pleasure that radiated throughout her body, leaving Isana gasping for air and clutching at his shoulders.

"Satoru," she moaned out, her voice hitching as his fingers applied the right kind of pressure on her sensitive bundle of nerves. The name, spoken in a heated whisper, hung heavy between them. It was almost a plea, a silent begging for more of what he was giving her.

His smug grin turned into a smirk of satisfaction, Satoru pressed his thumb against her clit while his fingers slipped effortlessly inside her, pushing at her walls and drawing out more gasps and desperate pleas from her trembling lips. Her whimpers spurred him on, his own arousal hard and demanding against the confines of his sweats.

Isana's body writhed beneath him, her hips rolling in time with his thrusts as his fingers explored her depths. Each whimper and gasp from her lips was like music to his ears, the sweetest symphony he'd ever heard. Her breathless pleas only fueled his desire, the need to see her unravel completely under his touch becoming an all-consuming want.

“I love hearing you moan, it’s so fucking sexy," Satoru purred against her skin. His tongue traced down her stomach, his fingers continuing their torturous dance inside her.

"And you’re so fucking wet for me," he said, a provocative note in his voice. His tongue flicked out to swirl around her clit and her body arched off the wall, a strangled cry escaping her lips.

"Fuck," she whimpered, barely audible amidst her ragged breaths. Each stroke of his tongue rekindled the fiery pleasure within her core, her body squirming under the decadent torture. His fingers plunged into her with a rhythm that left her writhing in sweet agony. "Please...I..." she struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"Ask for it, Isana," he murmured against her flesh, his blue eyes glinting with wicked desire. He amplified the pace of his fingers, curling them against her g-spot.

"Please, Satoru...I need you," she finally gasped out, her words shaky as they barley left her lips.

"Hmm? Need me how?" he teased, his lips curling in a smirk. His fingers continued their relentless pressure on her throbbing center, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"I...I need..." she stuttered, lost in the whirlwind of sensations he was causing. With desperation lacing her voice, she whimpered, "You...Inside me."

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin at her words. He removed his fingers from her and licked them clean, his eyes never leaving hers as he savored the taste of her. The sight of his own action was driving Isana to the brink of insanity.

"Say it again, baby," Satoru commanded as he continued to hold her gaze. His voice was smooth as silk laced with a hint of mischief. "I want to hear you beg for me."

Isana released a ragged breath, her heart pounding relentlessly against her ribcage as she followed his command. "Please... I need you inside me..." Her words echoed in the room, adding to their shared lustful symphony. Her plea sent a rush of desire surging through him.

Without another word, he ripped off his sweatpants, revealing his throbbing proof of desire. His cock strained against his stomach, the sight alone making Isana’s breath hitch in her throat. She was fully aware of how masterfully he could use that part of him to leave her trembling in pleasure.

His gaze was predatory as he looked at her, a silent declaration of the pleasure he intended to give her. He grasped her hips and pulled her towards him, positioning her so that she was on the edge of the wall, legs spread apart in invitation.

“Isana,” he murmured huskily, positioning himself at her entrance. She could feel the head of him press against her, making her clench in anticipation. His eyes bore into hers as he pushed himself slowly inside her, stretching and filling her to the brink. Isana’s cry echoed around the room as she gasped his name again, fingers digging into the muscles of his back. He grunted, a low sound of approval, and buried himself deeper within her welcoming heat.

"Fuck, oh...fuck," she groaned as he moved within her. Her body yielded to him, a perfect counterpoint to each thrust. Her pleasure was a liquid fire, coursing through her veins, pooled between them where their bodies merged into one.

He rolled his hips, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her that only he knew how to find. Isana’s head fell back against the wall, her body arching as a cry of pure pleasure tore from her throat. He pulled back, picking her up off the ground and thrusted again, this time faster, harder. The room filled with the erotic sounds of skin on skin, heavy breathing, and the soft moans and gasps that slipped from their parted lips.

“You feel so good baby… that perfect pussy.. feels…so.. fucking.. good,” he punctuated with each thrust.

"Yes, oh God. Don’t stop," she cried as she clung to him for support. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into her.

Satoru's lips traced a path up her neck, nibbling on her earlobe, his words whispered hotly into her ear. "Wasn't planning on it," he growled out, a wicked promise of the pleasure yet to come. His fingers dug into her hips as he pounded into her with a relentless.

His lips found hers in a fierce kiss that stole her breath away. His body was hot against hers, slick with sweat, muscles rippling under her fingertips. Satoru's thrusts quickened, the sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room.

"I...I can't..." Isana stammered out between gasps, her voice a broken whisper. Her eyes fluttered shut, the intensity of her pleasure overwhelming her senses.

"Look at me," Satoru commanded, his voice harsh and raspy with desire.

"Satoru...I..." she began but soon found herself unable to form words.

"Yes...yes...you can," Satoru told her huskily as her eyes fluttered open to lock with his.

He watched the bliss take over her expression, grinning with satisfaction at the pleasure he was giving her. His grip on her waist tightened, helping him to maneuver her body to his own rhythm, matching his powerful thrusts with precision.

"Let go, baby," he encouraged. "Cum for me."

His command sent a thrill through her, her entire body responding to his words. "Oh...oh God," Isana gasped as she felt her climax building, overwhelming her senses. The tension coiling in her lower belly was almost unbearable, like a dam ready to burst.

"Satoru...please," Isana whimpered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their labored breaths and the rhythmic sound of their bodies colliding. He grunted in response, his movements becoming more animalistic as he felt his own release approaching.

"That's it, baby," Satoru growled into her ear. "Let it happen."

His words were like a switch, her body instantly obeying. She gasped his name as an intense wave of pleasure tore through her, her body convulsing beneath him as she climaxed.

"Satoru!" Isana cried out, her nails digging into his back as she rode the crest of her orgasm, waves of pleasure radiating out from where they were joined. Her body quivered and twitched, spasming around him in a way that made Satoru moan in pleasure.

Satoru held onto Isana's quivering body firmly as he drove into her, the sight of her climax pushing him over the edge. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he finally succumbed to his own release. He pushed deep inside her one final time, his body stiffening as he let out a guttural cry. Isana felt him twitch inside her, the warmth of him filling her. His fingers dug deeper into her skin as he rode out his orgasm, his moans echoing in her ear.

Panting heavily, Satoru buried his face in the crook of her neck, his ragged breaths hot against her damp skin. The sheer intensity of their lovemaking left them both trembling, their bodies pressed tight together as they attempted to calm their racing hearts.

Satoru pulled back slightly, looking deep into Isana's eyes, still glazed with the remnants of their shared ecstasy.

"Isana," he murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine, "you’re mine."

His words landed heavily on her heart, causing a quiver to run through her overheated body. There was a raw possessiveness in his gaze, he was claiming her once again for himself. Isana found herself nodding, unable to muster any words. Her throat felt dry, but it wasn't from their searing lovemaking; it was the intensity of his confession that stole her voice.

"I love you," she finally managed to whisper, her fingers gently tracing the arc of his jaw. His eyes softened at her words, and he pulled her tighter against him.

"And I love you. Now come back home," he replied, pressing a bruising kiss on her lips. The firmness of his body against hers acting as a concrete reminder of their shared reality.

"I...I will," Isana responded, her voice choked with emotion.

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