#i didnt write this

[3-aem]

jjk and everything is the same but gojo is a meow meow cat boy

[iheartliquor]

[creativewritingrobot]

Late Night Longing

---

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a gentle glow upon the silent streets. Tsukishima Kei had just settled into his bed, ready to surrender to a peaceful slumber after a long day of volleyball practice and studying. Just as his eyes closed, his phone vibrated on the bedside table, startling him awake.

Rubbing his eyes, Tsukishima reached for his phone, squinting at the screen. The name that appeared made his heart skip a beat - it was you, his dearest friend and confidant. Confusion mingled with concern as he wondered why you would call him in the middle of the night.

"Hello?" Tsukishima answered, his voice a little groggy.

"Tsukki," your voice came through the speaker, soft and filled with longing.

"What's wrong?" Tsukishima asked, instantly alert. The night's stillness felt oppressive, as if it were amplifying the urgency in your voice.

"I miss you," you whispered, and Tsukishima could hear the faint tremor in your voice.

Tsukishima's eyes widened, the sleepiness dissipating in an instant. He sat up in bed, heart pounding in his chest. "Why are you calling me in the middle of the night just to tell me that?"

A shaky breath escaped your lips. "I couldn't sleep. Thoughts of you kept flooding my mind, and the loneliness became unbearable. I needed to hear your voice, even if it's just for a moment."

His surprise gave way to concern, a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness enveloping him. "You should have just messaged me, dumbass. I would have replied as soon as I woke up."

A soft chuckle slipped from your lips. "I know, but somehow hearing your voice feels more comforting. It's like you're right here beside me, chasing away the shadows."

Tsukishima's heart swelled with affection, his worry gradually transforming into warmth. "Well, I'm here now. You don't have to feel lonely anymore."

Silence settled between the two of you, as if the world around you had momentarily frozen, leaving only the sound of your breathing and the faint rustling of Tsukishima adjusting his position.

"Thank you, Tsukki," you finally spoke, your voice quivering with sincerity. "I know it's silly, but I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate having you in my life."

Tsukishima's lips curved into a gentle smile, even though you couldn't see it. "You're not being silly. It means a lot to me too. You're an important person to me, and I'm glad you called."

The vulnerability in your voice tugged at his heartstrings, pushing him to express his emotions in a way he rarely did. "You're not alone in feeling lonely, you know. There are times when I miss you too, especially when we're apart."

A soft gasp escaped your lips. "Really?"

Tsukishima nodded instinctively, even though you couldn't see it. "Of course. You've become a big part of my life, and it feels strange when you're not around. So, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even if it's the middle of the night. I'll always be here for you."

Your voice trembled with relief. "Thank you, Tsukki. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Tsukishima's voice softened further, an uncharacteristic tenderness seeping through his words. "You don't have to find out. You have me

, and I'm not going anywhere."

The weight of your longing gradually lifted, replaced by a soothing sense of security that only Tsukishima's presence could bring. Your breathing steadied, the exhaustion finally starting to seep back into your bones.

"I should let you go back to sleep," you murmured reluctantly.

"I'll do the same," Tsukishima replied, a hint of reluctance lacing his words. "But remember, I'm just a phone call away. Anytime."

A gentle sigh escaped your lips. "I know, Tsukki. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, [Name]. Sleep well."

As you ended the call, Tsukishima settled back into his bed, a soft smile lingering on his face. The night had taken an unexpected turn, but the connection between you and him had only grown stronger. In that moment, he realized that your late-night call wasn't just a longing for his presence; it was a reminder of the unbreakable bond you shared.

And as he drifted back to sleep, Tsukishima carried the warmth of your voice and the knowledge that he could chase away your loneliness whenever you needed him.

note: I highly doubt he'd answer but chatgpt thinks its for plot convenience

[imfullofworms]

Auto-Fill #1

I'm going back to sleep and slumber

Cloud of course not

But it's all halved crosswise

And with birds in my head

I confess that you

Need a new flame

In the dark

Someone who has

A streetlight manifesto

created with autofill and left unedited except for the spacing and paragraphs

[hyunniiees]

❤️❤️❤️😍😍😍😻🙏🙏😍😻😍❤️❤️😻😀😍😻😍😀😍🙏😁😻😍🙏🙏 and when she grabs my hair and shoves her cock deeper down my throat??? 😍😀😍😍😻😍😍😍😍😍🙏😍🙏😻😍😀😍😍😻😀😀😻❤️❤️❤️❤️

[emoflutterguy]

i dont know what any of this means but its beautiful

how i became impossible by Mary Ruefle

[almondpiglet]

ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[wbywebseriesreviews]

currently reading How to End A Love Story, the first published novel by Yulin Kuang who made the series Kissing In the Rain, I Ship It, A Tell Tale Vlog, and I Didn't Write This.

Love seeing webseries folks share more of their work with the world!

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[sphinx-myth]

scapegoat children

[tw abuse]

Here’s how scapegoating works: The parent with NPD blames their child (or children) for family issues. The family then learns from these actions that all blame will be (mis)placed on the scapegoat, to maintain equilibrium in home life.

Several children can be scapegoated in a dysfunctional home.

A research paper in 2020 wrote that individuals living with narcissism create a “golden child” and one or more scapegoats within a household. This labeling gives people with NPD the freedom to:

manipulate or instigate

play people against each other, also referred to as triangulation

project their anger

continue living without regard to the impact of their words

displace all the blame onto someone else rather than be personally accountable for their own actions

8 Types of Scapegoating in Narcissistic Families

. Caretaker

Scapegoated children may provide emotional and/or physical caretaking to one or more parent/stepparent, functioning as a stand-in best friend, spouse, therapist, or nurse. They may be given household responsibilities such as cleaning, cooking, and caring for siblings, while also being targeted with anger and blame for the family's woes. Often intuitive and empathetic, caretaker scapegoats can become powerful healers as adults. But if they continue to prioritize the needs of others over their own they are likely to experience anxiety, poor self-care, resentment, and burnout.

2. Problem-Solver

The problem-solver child steps up to handle things for the family. This child may take over in crisis situations, advise or make decisions for parents, manage aspects of the household, and perhaps earn money for the family. Problem-solver scapegoats may win short-term approval and/or a reprieve from criticism and drama by fixing problems, but, like caretakers, they are being exploited for the service they provide at the expense of their needs and healthy development. As adults, they often show capable leadership but struggle with feeling hypervigilant to potential threats, over-responsible for the well-being of others, and uncomfortable asking for help.

3. Protector

Children in the protector role step in to defend a parent and/or younger sibling(s) from the dominant narcissist's verbal and/or physical abuse. Such children may be driven to try to protect family members because of their own experience with being scapegoated, or they may become scapegoated in the family system as a result of standing up to the abuse. As adults, children who have confronted the aggression of abusers may become fierce and compassionate advocates for justice and the underprivileged. But they often struggle to recognize their own limits, vulnerability, and need for support.

4. Truth-Teller

Children who recognize and attempt to talk about family dysfunction (e.g., inequities, rage, neglect, boundary violations) are trying to resolve the cognitive dissonance between their experience of reality and the denials and distortions pushed by their gaslighting parent(s). Like protectors, truth-telling children in narcissistic homes may be motivated to question the family system because they are scapegoated, or they may be targeted with scapegoating because their awareness is viewed as a threat. Perceptive and often wise or even visionary, truth-tellers can be powerful social analysts, writers, fighters for justice, and whistleblowers. But seeing more than others do can also set them up for frustration, loneliness, and resentment from others who prefer to deny difficult truths.

5. Perfectionist/Achiever

Scapegoated children may attempt to win approval, avoid criticism, and disprove negative narratives about themselves through perfectionist patterns and high achievement. Such efforts can earn them passing validation or reprieves from negative attention, but typically very little the family scapegoat does is acknowledged or valued. Driven and often intelligent and talented, perfectionists/achievers may develop great capabilities, but they tend to struggle with a harsh inner critic, a need for control, and unrealistic standards for themselves and others.

6. Rebel

Family scapegoats may react to the unfairness of their role by adopting a pattern of ongoing rebellion against forms of control and authority in general. Unable to get their needs met or process their frustration in healthy ways, they compensate for feelings of powerlessness through defiant behavior. Like family truth-tellers, rebels are often driven by a desire for justice and can be powerful fighters for a cause. But they can be aimless and self-sabotaging unless they recognize the source of their anger and find constructive ways to focus their energy.

7. Collapsed

Some scapegoated children experience such harsh neglect and abuse, with few sources of support to build resiliency, that they fail to thrive and become mentally unstable, chronically ill, suicidal, institutionalized, homeless, consumed by addiction, and/or incarcerated. As adults, they may experience a trajectory of low functioning, repeated crises, or collapse that ends tragically in early death by illness, addiction, suicide, or violence. Kids who are "different" in some way, such as queer or neuro-atypical, are often targets of extreme scapegoating, both within their family and society at large.

8. Covert Narcissist

Of the child roles in the narcissistic family, the entitled and enmeshed golden child is probably most likely to develop a narcissistic personality. However, being scapegoated can also lead to narcissism, particularly the covert form. Scapegoated children who become narcissistic have typically been trained to submit to the dominance of a more overtly narcissistic parent (and perhaps sibling) and as a result learn to cloak their rage, superiority, and desire for control into passive aggression. In adulthood, scapegoated covert narcissists often identify as victims and may use that to garner sympathy while also subjecting others to the neglect and abuse they experienced growing up.

8 Signs That You’re the Family Scapegoat

1. You get blamed for everything that goes wrong.

If a bill wasn’t paid on time, then it was because you distracted someone while they were trying to do it. If something goes bad in the fridge, it’s because you don’t cook enough.

Some narcissist mothers even blame their children for their own natural aging process (i.e. if their offspring hadn’t been born, they’d still be in their prime).

2. Your abuser projects their own behaviors onto you.

They might scream at you, and then get upset with you for “raising your voice.” Or they’ll do something completely self-absorbed, but berate you for being selfish.

The abuser could be cramming fistfuls of mayonnaise into their mouth, but call you a glutton in between swallows.

3. The verbal abuse never stops.

If you dare to sit down for a moment after doing several hours’ worth of chores, then you’re lazy and useless. You only got a 95% on your test instead of 100%? Then you’re stupid too.

4. Your successes and achievements are downplayed.

You may be mocked for achieving something, or your successes may not be acknowledged at all.

The abuser(s) may even purposely undermine or sabotage your success, and then turn it around on you. For example, they might have missed your college graduation ceremony, and then insisted it was your fault for not telling them the right date/time.

5. The abuse is ignored by others.

Other family members may see that you’re the one being abused the most, and choose to look away or downplay what’s going on.

After all, if you’re the one being abused, then they’re safe for the time being. Some might even join in during bullying sessions to try to endear themselves to your tormentor.

6. The abuse might go beyond the family.

Your abuser may encourage friends of the family etc. to pick on you as well. They’ll tell them lies about you, mock you in front of them, and make it seem absolutely okay for everyone to join in and torment you.

And if you try to defend yourself, then you’re obviously just being oversensitive and dramatic.

7. You often play the role of savior.

Regardless of how much you’re abused, you’re also inevitably the one everyone goes crying to whenever there’s a crisis.

This is because you’re the most capable, and they know it. So they’ll beg for your help as needed, then turn around and treat you like crap again as soon as the crisis has passed.

8. The abuse manifests in your well-being.

Sadly, many people don’t even recognize that they’re a scapegoat for years. For them, this is the only type of family life they’ve ever known. They internalize the stress, end up with anxiety, depression and/or eating disorders, and just muddle through as best they can.

Others shut down emotionally so they can handle what they’re going through. They numb out and don’t feel much of anything. As you can imagine, this ends up causing problems for their own relationship dynamics as they get older.

[canonkiller]

but you can't keep holding on like this.

[yeehawpim]

[heartorbit]

MWAH!

[onismdaydream]

thinking about perv yuji (like i always do) who sneaks into your room when you're sleeping because the panties he stole no longer smell like you or your laundry detergent. they feel nice around his cock, sure, but he wants to smell you, wants to pretend he can taste you. so he goes to get new ones. he even sees a pair that doesn't look familiar from when he looks up your skirts (he swears he doesn't mean to, it's just that your skirts are so short and well, he's right there...)

he takes them in his hand, feels the smooth and silky fabric and thumbs at the little bow. they're cute. he hopes you don't mind if he borrows them for a bit.

but then you stir. a quiet rustle of sheets and a soft groan as you get comfortable, but yuji's perks up at the sound. his gaze actually settles on you, now that his eyes are adjusted, and he feels his cock twitch at the sight. you just look so peaceful and pretty.

and of course he can't help it if his eyes drift down to see your body. the tank top is loose on you, enough that yuji can get a good look at your cleavage. that's one thing he wishes you would show off more — he'd love to get a more accurate representation of you in his mind when he jacks off.

another quiet noise and his gaze moves back to your lips, slightly parted and so damn kissable. if only yuji could feel your soft lips against his...

against his better judgement, yuji takes his cock out, promising himself he can only look. he strokes himself as he watches you sleep, getting himself to full hardness. he knows he has to be quick and quiet — there's no way he could talk himself out of the situation if you woke up. but the sight of his leaking tip so close to your pretty mouth makes him dizzy.

it takes a pathetically short amount of time before he cums in his hand, a few drops falling to the floor of your bedroom. you're still blissfully unaware of what your friend is doing, still in a deep sleep as he carefully swipes his thumb along your bottom lip. a small smear of his cum for you to taste when you wake up.

[villainbait]

Exclusive Favors

Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: PG-13 Tags: who did this to you, hurt, comfort, hurt/comfort, injury, implied violence, brief violence mentions, angst, canon sylus behavior, blood mentions, kissing if you squint Summary: You barely survived a night on your own in the N109 Zone without the watchful gaze of certain Onychinus leader, but at what cost? Word Count: 1.5k

The dull sound of your door closing was like the snap of a final curtain call falling into place and you slumped against it, relieved to be safely in your own apartment. You had survived a night in the N109 Zone on your own, but it had been a near miss. One you wouldn’t be repeating, especially since the intel you wanted had been a bust, anyway. 

You touched your side, your breathing uneven, and you wince. You definitely have a cracked rib. You try to take a deep breath and pain radiates from your chest into your stomach, making you a little nauseous. Okay, maybe two.

You were trying to psych yourself up to move and trudge into your apartment to give yourself much needed medical attention when the reverberating shock of someone's forceful knock bounced you against your door-frame. You consider not answering the insistent caller on the other side, but a muffled, familiar baritone floats through the door.

"Open the door, sweetie."

A sigh left your lips at the demand and you tried to stifle the pathetic, painful whimper that your exasperation cost you. Of all the people on the other side of that door, Sylus was the most unexpected. Or maybe not, considering he boasted that he knew everything that went on in his territory. Maybe that’s why he was here and if it was, he wouldn’t leave until his curiosity was satisfied.

The door cracks open and you stare up at him through the hole you made, reluctant to allow him entrance and to partially block his view of the damage those thugs had caused when they mugged you in the alleyway earlier tonight. However, Sylus’s easy smile is nowhere to be found and the frown lines on his forehead are the deepest you've ever seen them. His large hand wraps around the door-frame so you can’t close it again and he pushes gently against it, but you don’t budge. 

"Who did this to you?" His tone is dangerously low.

You ignore his question, instead poking your head out to look down the deserted hallway of your apartment building. "Why are you here? It's dangerous." It was risky for Sylus to wander around Linkon City normally, even if he claimed many people didn't know what he actually looked like. However, the Hunter’s Association did and your building was crawling with employees at all hours of the day and night.

"You didn't answer your phone, so I got worried."

Oh right, you had forgotten they had taken that too. You sighed again, the pain of having to replace everything beginning to give you a headache. That key charm Zayne had given you for your birthday was perhaps the worst thing to have lost, maybe more than the phone itself.

"Let me in, kitten." Sylus’s voice is gently cajoling and you concede because you're too tired to argue with him tonight. So you open the door and  try to act normal, but your voice is far too lighthearted for how heavy your legs feel as you trudge into the apartment. 

“You know, if you keep frowning like that you’ll get wrinkles and people really will think you’re an old man.” 

He follows you in with a small chuckle, his eyes bouncing around the room as if the perpetrators could be hiding in the shadows. When you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down to tend to your injuries, Sylus was suddenly there, kneeling in front of you. His hands push yours out of the way and he silently takes over the job of nurse, and you think about fighting him as you watch him roll up his shirtsleeves but realize you were just too exhausted to care. 

“What happened?” He asks eventually and you realize you will have to tell him something. Lying won’t work, he’ll find out if he didn’t already know. 

“What often happens when you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time in the N109 Zone, Sylus.” You offer with a single shrug, doing your best to sit still while he cleans the wound on your arm. “You know that better than me.” 

“Were you wearing–” he was referring to the brooch that signified your status as protected. 

“They took that too.” His hands stilled on the bandage he was applying on your forearm. “Did they, now?” he murmured silkily and you saw a muscle in his jaw tick, though his expression was partially obscured by his unruly hair. “After all that trouble I went through, too.” You tried to make a joke to ease the tension which earned you a soft amused twitch of Sylus’s lips. He was too angry to truly smile and you could feel it radiating off of him in waves. Despite that, his hands were painstakingly gentle as he touched what was clearly a blossoming bruise around your wrist. Sylus’s tender touch lingers on your injuries and he checks each one with a thoroughness that feels as if he’s memorizing exactly where you were hurt. 

He orders some of your favorite food, helps you get cleaned up, and tucks you into your bed. He points to the notepad you kept by your bedside table that you sometimes scribble notes on when you took calls. “Make me a list of what they looked like, and then go to bed. I’ll take care of the rest.” Before you could protest, he left the room abruptly. You picked up the notepad and stared at the print of the cute little animals dancing around the top. You’d bought it on a whim after seeing how cute it looked in a stationary shop window near one of your mission sites. It seemed too obscene to write what would virtually be a hit list on such charming paper. 

Instead, you scribble all of the reasons you’re grateful for today. Right at the top was that you had survived all on your own in the N109 Zone and you were able to see the infamous Onychinus leader kneeling at your feet. The list grew as you included the tasty food you ate earlier, and the glimpse of a suspiciously familiar crow you saw on your way into work this morning. The page was halfway filled when the pain medication Sylus had convinced you to take started to kick in and you felt your eyelids drooping. 

Drowsily, you snuggle down underneath your covers and clutch the plushie Sylus and you had won at the arcade last weekend. When you hear the distant muffled click of your door opening, you try to rouse yourself but you felt so warm and your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t manage it. That doesn’t stop you from trying until a large hand gently smoothed back your mussed hair, and the sensation of soft knuckles trace the curve of your cheek. “It’s just me,” the familiar voice murmured and you tried to speak but he shushed you. “Sleep, kitten.” 

You swear you felt the ghost of his lips on yours before he was gone, but maybe it was just part of the hazy dream you had of crows, violence, and enchanting sanguine eyes. 

Sylus returns to the N109 Zone and finds himself staring at the “list,” a bemused smile on his face. He shakes his head and tucks the cutesy page into his pocket. You were far too adorable and it made what he was about to do that much more satisfying, sauntering into the abandoned warehouse where your phone had last pinged; deceptively calm. The screams and stench of death shuddered throughout the N109 Zone tonight, serving as a violent and bloody reminder to all that no one should dare to touch what was his lest they face the consequences. 

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, your fingers fumble for your buzzing phone and land on the familiar outline of the brooch, both in their normal places as if yesterday was just a bad dream. Through your sleepy daze, you realize your other hand is occupied–as is your bed. Turning, you’re surprised to find Sylus is fast asleep next to you, his hand intertwined tightly with yours. There’s deep circles under his eyes, but his normally furrowed brow is smoothed out in sleep. With a sleepy smile, you curl back up to let him rest a little while longer, tucking your joined hands against your chest, cuddling his arm.

You both doze off together, and you’ve never felt so safe.