#or else they will die very hard after suffering very hard :)

[mothwingwritings]

Is it bad that on the hanmacest story I kind of want someone to break the ashtray and Yujiro just losing his shit? Like some dude comes up talking shut to Yujiro, sees the shitty ashtray and just breaks it. ~Cue record scratch~ then the next thing we know is yujiro slamming this was joke through a wall. The thought amuses me so much!

this is not a ask btw, please don’t take it as me wanting to push it on you. I’m just really enjoying the set up of this entire dumpster fire of a family and I keep on imagining stupid shit.

I love the idea. TBH I feel like if someone even tried to smash it their hand would be demolished before even coming in contact with it. Like, bones turned to dust, hand looking like an empty toothpaste tube for even making an attempt to approach the damn thing. Not even Yujiro himself understands why he’s so territorial of it-it’s just some stupid trinket that can be easily replaced by something more substantial and of much nicer quality-but the thought of some grimy, piece of shit, nobody laying their dirty hands on something YOU made for him just really really gets to him going.

And god forbid said nobody actually gets ahold of it or breaks it. Killing them outright doesn’t do it justice-the punishment needs to be fitting of the crime.  They took something from Yujiro, something irreplaceable, and that was the biggest mistake they could ever make in their life. Their last moments on earth are going to be rife with regret, immense fear, and horrific amounts of pain and suffering that drags on so long that by the time he’s finally ready to finish him off, the poor bastard is going to be begging for the sweet release of death.

After all this goes down Yujiro would either collect all the broken pieces and bring them to you, unceremoniously dumping them in a pile as he nonchalantly tells you to ‘fix it’ (doesn’t matter if it’s beyond repair, he’s expecting it to be good as new by your hands. You’re a Hanma, this should be nothing to you, right?). OR he comes to you and orders you to make him a new one (to see how much your skills have improved of course, not because he’s disgruntled over losing the first one. It’s a test, and its one he expects you to pass with flying colors, you better not let him down).

[gen-is-gone]

oh god i'm having so many fucking feelings about Dream honestly, genuinely, desperately trying to change, to make himself into someone who can survive, and it not being enough, no matter how hard he tried fuck me

[r0semaryt3a]

Loved your dating hc's!!! They all felt really convincing and in character 💕💕 How do you think the pt (preferably chrollo, uvo, phinks and feitan if thats too many) sleep next to u?? are they cuddlers, kickers, white noise users, midnight bathroom breakers, snorers or whatever else?

Ahhh glad to hear it!! I’ve only really wrote a lot about Chrollo so I was worried the others were OOC-

I’ve only really been thinking of writing for Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks, Shalnark, Machi and Paku but given as you asked for Uvo I’ll add another onto that list! (Small spoiler warning: I love the troupe, but they’re all messy sleepers and I won’t be convinced otherwise!)

Chrollo

He definitely has a night mask, incense and all that to help him doze off. Chrollo is a chronic suffer of predormitional insomnia: his mind runs a million a minute, man is NOT used to sleeping a healthy 8hrs.

You can guarantee if Chrollo falls asleep before you (a very rare event) you’ll find him stiff as a log. He falls asleep in whatever position he’s in and will stay there until he wakes up. Honestly, it’s a wonder he isn’t ridden with all sorts of issues (get him a chiropractor one day.)

On the other 364 days a year when he falls asleep after you, well aren’t you just the perfect little teddy bear! His arms are always wrapped around you tightly.

If you happen to be a light sleeper? You’ll definitely wake up in the middle of the night to his face buried into the crook of your neck; fingers tapping away at your abdomen as his breathing settles, the smell of lavender drowning out any other senses. So definitely a cuddler. (I will die on this hill)

Sometimes he might even pepper your neck with kisses if he notices you’re awake.

If you’re a heavier sleeper? You better get used to waking up in the morning under a vice like grip, a mat of black hair brushing against your cheek and -whether he’s awake or not- you’re not getting out of it

Big spooner, you could be twice the height of him and he’d still demand it.

Not much of a snorer, maybe the few light hitches here and there but overall he’s sound asleep.

Most nights when Chrollo can’t sleep, he’ll sit up with a book in one hand and his other arm wrapped around your sleeping form. Sometimes he’ll doze off and sometimes he’ll only be brought away from his book by your stirring.

On particularly bad nights, where his insomnia truly flairs up, you’ll have to listen to a plethora of podcasts or “soothing sounds” for him to actually sleep. And yes, you’ll have to listen to them. There’s something innately intimate about having you indulge him in his interests: makes it far easier to sleep.

Feitan

You cannot tell if this man is awake or asleep 9/10.

“You sleep. I watch.” Kind of deal, he has many things to preoccupy himself with: like watching you! (In a: ‘someone takes even one step in this general direction, you’ll have a lullaby of screaming to doze off to’ kind of way)

It’s not that he can’t sleep, it’s that he doesn’t want to. Feitan sees sleep as a waste of time, it bleeds days into days and he could be spending that time well, instead of sleeping.

Everytime he wakes up he mentally kicks himself for having made such a waste of time

That’s where you come in! Hope you’re willing to have a human sized cat latched onto you every single night! Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter to him: you’ll wind up with him clinging onto you for dear life regardless.

Despite this fact however, you’ll never know the plethora of times he wakes up in the middle of the night, painstakingly, detaches himself from you and paces around the room feverishly. Muttering about who knows what, head flicking to every angle at even the minutest of sounds. Feitan doesn’t like not being alert: loathes it, so this is his way to regulate the nerves that rest often brings.

Feitan is a very light sleeper, any slight movement may set him off and cause him to completely switch back on (sleep maintenance insomnia hits him hard).

He doesn’t strike me as a snorer but definitely isn’t quiet, sounds like a Guinea pig sometimes. A total teeth chatterer. Seriously, you’ll wake up and hear a light ‘Tch Tch Tch’ from wherever the hell he’s grabbing onto you tonight.

Will not ever wake up in the same position he falls asleep in (not that you’ll ever know that fact, he’s always looking over you long before you’re awake.)

Trust me: you’ll know if Feitan has a bad dream. His claws (yes claws) will be digging into you, his hold on you tightening with a particularly sharp ‘hiss’ of his teeth.

Likelihood is: his sleeping patterns will leave more marks on you than any other activities ever will. But, don’t worry! It shows he cares (I think?).

Phinks

Kicker, oh he is a real kicker.

You’ll wind up waking up off the bed more times than you will on it.

On and off cuddler, there’s very few times that you’ll fall asleep cuddling but by god is it a wild guess as to whether you’ll wake up doing so.

Phinks will fall asleep with his back towards you, teetering off the edge of the bed. And, In the matter of minutes can have one leg half way across the bed, the other swung over the edge, left hand across his face, right on his chest, mouth slack and whole body at a 45* angle.

Other times, you’ll find a knee digging into your back as he’s (very awkwardly) cuddling you from behind.

Surprising the masses (not): he snores. Has a whole box of nose strips to stop this.

Despite all of these, interesting, idiosyncrasies. The few times you fall asleep cuddling: he’s an entirely different sleeper. It’s like he takes a page out of Chrollo’s book and doesn’t move an inch (aside from rolling, he’s a total roller).

The snoring won’t stop though.

Doesn’t need anything to help him sleep, his head hits the pillow and he’s out like a light. Real heavy sleeper as well, you could roll him off the bed with an almighty thud and he’d still be sound sleep. It’s actually fairly endearing.

Will sleep for 6 hours, wake up for 1, roll around for a bit, settle down and then sleep for another 2.

Best pray you’re a heavy sleeper: that’s all the advice I can give you.

Honestly? It’s like sleeping next to a bear, vaguely adorable as much as it has you fearing for you life (and place on the bed).

Uvogin

If Phinks is like sleeping next to a bear, Uvo is a bear hug.

You’ll find your place settled neatly against his chest, as if he’s one of those comically large backpacks (like Johnny’s from Hotel Transylvania). Don’t worry about anything, truly, you’ll be snug as a bug in a hug.

Surprisingly, not a snorer (when sober at least). Often needs noises to fall asleep to though. If there’s not calamity afoot then Uvo tends to get angsty; you may have to deal with the occasional outburst.

So, you often have loud games or shows blaring in the background as he rests his chin on your head. Uvo doesn’t fall asleep easily, meaning there’s very few times that you can turn the noise off before you head to sleep yourself. You best get used to sleeping to the volume of a rock concert! (with his constant screeching he blew his own ear drums)

Invest in earbuds of some kind, it’ll help the both of you.

The LOUDEST snorer when drunk. I mean LOUDEST. Cotton buds line your bathroom cupboards for whenever he drinks, you’ll have to pick out bits of cotton on particularly bad nights.

Absolute hoarder. Whether it be you, a pillow, the duvet, he’ll have it and he isn’t letting it go. It’s honestly quite comforting, his presence isn’t exactly small, so with this hoarding comes a sense of security.

He’s surprisingly gentle as well, it doesn’t feel infantilising, more like you’re something from a heist that he doesn’t want to break.

Can fall asleep anywhere there’s noise. It’s a skill, you’ll find him contorted in a corner just so long as the TV’s humming in the background. Don’t think of moving him, you won’t.

Probably takes a good few trips to the loo during the night. Which, unfortunately for you, given your nightly position: leads to you being woken up every time he does.

Shalnark

Not a fan of cuddles, like at all. Shalnark is quite the squisher when you’re both up and about or even just lounging on the covers, but when it comes to sleeping? He’ll do it, sure, but he won’t be too thrilled most nights. There’s the odd time that he’ll be uncharacteristically for the idea, pulling you close and running off a mile a minute! He doesn’t tend to actually sleep those nights, more ramble on like you’re at some two person sleepover; the sentiment’s there nonetheless.

Despite this fact, he’s very specific with having at least something pressed up against his back -little spooner- and will get agitated if this requirement isn’t met.

Podcasts, lots of podcasts. Shalnark has about ten to twenty playlists that he’ll be sat scrolling through: trying to find the one he wants to sleep to. You’ll never be privy to these of course, he tends to keep a pair of headphones shoved in some drawer.

Oftentimes, before even attempting to sleep, he’ll be scrolling through some forum or busy doing: something. Though, for some reason you don’t remember any of his chronic scrolling…

Bathroom breaker, it’s nothing annoying but you’ll never not notice the shift in weight, as he swings his legs off the bed and heads to the bathroom. He’s always careful not to make too much noise, which winds up causing more in the process.

Has a small assortment of glasses of water that will accumulate through the week, all filled to different volumes. He swears he’ll drink them! He never does. It just ticks that little box of ‘just incase’ and he can’t sleep without it. Same with most other amenities.

Late sleeper, this man will never be up before you. That may be attributed to the fact he never falls asleep before you, but who’s to say!

Machi

The fact you don’t have single beds is both a gift to thank her for and a curse. Machi is a sleep tosser; she tosses a lot.

You tend to sleep on opposite ends of the bed. This is both in part to her overall distaste of sleeping together and the kicking. Oh boy, the kicking.

You know how the immune system can sometimes misinterpret things as threats, causing autoimmune reactions? That Machi when asleep. It’s like a subconscious instinct, a defence mechanism is you will; it’s certainly a good one! It’s just, not always needed. Especially not when you wake up at 4:34am after a particularly sharp jab at your side.

Though, some nights she’s stiff as a board! Not one movement or peep. As if death herself had stole Machi away.

She’s not a particularly picky sleeper, Machi can rest to almost anything. However, there is one thing that seems to expedite the process. Fire - whether the simple crackling singing off in the distance, or the chocking scent of smoke pervading the air. It seems to calm Machi, there’s no foreseeable reason for it. She just, likes fire.

L i g h t sleeper, you can’t count the amount of times she’s jolted awake, swearing she heard something. Windows, doors and anything else that might throw the room into disarray or stir up noise are a must close.

Sleep mutterer. It’s a rare occurrence, but Machi will sometimes have whole conversations with the air. You’re usually both asleep when these conversations take place (there was once that you overheard one to its completion. You’ll never tell her of course).

Pakunoda

Incense galore.

Seriously it’s everywhere.

Pakunoda needs some form of soft scent to lull her to sleep. This often comes in the form of floral scents, but can branch off into other soothing smells. Her particular favourites include cedar and amber.

You wouldn’t describe what you and Pakunoda do as cuddling, per se. She treats you more like a support pillow than anything else. Arms wrapped around you tightly and chin resting upon your head.

Neither of you will be able to move an inch throughout the night. Pakunoda has a very specific pre sleep schedule that she’ll run through every night (including final bathroom breaks, cleaning and small talk) and after that, it’s lights out. It doesn’t matter if you wake up and need something: she’s out cold. You might be able to escape, if you can pry yourself out. But just know: getting back in the same position will prove twice as difficult.

Not a snorer, hell, you can hardly hear her breathing most nights. If it weren’t for the subtle rise and fall of her chest against your back, you’d question if she even was.

Up long before you are, usually has one half of the bed already made (haphazardly as not to disturb you.)

I had a lot of fun doing this one; might return to it for further Troupe members at a later date, so cheers for the ask Anon! (Little irrelevant thing I just want to mention for future reference: if any PT ask includes Hisoka or Illumi please specify as such.)

[itschlorosis]

their own little world - neteyam

𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘮 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘺𝘢!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : 2.2𝘬

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 : 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 19, 𝘯𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘮

keep in mind that english is not my first language :))

Neteyam couldn’t remember a day where she wasn’t in his life. From his young age, to his adulthood, she always held a special place in his heart. Her parents were great warriors, admired by all, including the Olo’eyktan, Jake Sully, his father. Given their closeness, Neytiri asked Mo'at to train the young girl as Tsahik.  A mother knows all, Neytiri knew Neteyam and y/n were chosen by the Great Mother, for a greater purpose. It was easy for the Sully to like the girl, she was sweet, gentle and she knew when to be fierce and strong. The perfect balance. 

Just like Spider, she spent her childhood with Jake’s kids. Unlike Spider, however, Neytiri appreciated the girl. She was Na’vi, good for her oldest son. She could sometimes see Jake and herself through them, it made her smile.

As the oldest son of the Olo’eyktan, Neteyam suffered the pressure of his position. Always had to be perfect, always had to protect his siblings, always had to put others before himself. Reaching his teenage years was hard on him, he had to let go of all his innocence, of all his childish happiness. The only moments he could be himself were sacred and, sadly, rare moments he spent with y/n. Sometimes, he let himself go with Lo’ak, the instant always cut short by the looming figure of their father. Don’t get him wrong, Neteyam loved his family, he would die for them, but on rare occasions, he would wish he wasn’t the son of Jake Sully, the next Olo’eyktan. He just wanted to be 19 and free. This very thought, was the reason he followed his stupid brother into the battlefield. He wanted to feel free, even if it was just for a few minutes. Watching over Lo’ak was his job, when he got in trouble, Neteyam stated it was his fault. However, on this very day, as he laid on the ground after an explosion, he wanted to be anyone else, very far away from this place.

Back in the camps, and after his father’s scolding, the oldest brother found himself seated before his grandmother, dressing his wounds. His sisters Kiri and Tuk were also here, one helping Mo’at, the other making sure her brother was okay. He longed for y/n to be the one tending to his bruises, but he heard she was occupied with the other lightly wounded. He would have given anything to feel her gentle hands on his back, her sweet words in his ears. Y/N heard about Neteyam’s injuries, it worried her, but Lo’ak came by, telling her he was okay. She wished time would go by faster, to be relieved of her functions to sneak out to the cave Neteyam and her would go to be away from the world, just for a few hours. She feared he was in too much pain to make the journey, but she also feared he’d be sad not to see her. Now in the cave, surrounded by fluorescent lights and the eclipse shining through the hole on the top of the cave, y/n found herself silly, thinking she didn’t want to come tonight. The scenery was breathtaking. The cave was filled with small lives, all shining in the dark, giving it a very intimate feeling. The hot spring gave the place a sweet heat, relaxing her tired muscles. 

After the long day she had, the young girl dreamt of nothing more than to relax in the waters. After waiting for almost 2 hours, y/n was convinced Neteyam would not show up tonight. Removing her clothes, she entered the lake, sighing at the feeling of the knots in her back disappearing. Swimming for a bit, she ended up sitting next to the shore, her body completely submerged. Looking up, the girl watched the stars, imagining Neteyam by her side, telling her Jake’s stories about Earth, about his time before his kids. She heard those stories many times, Jake’s children were really proud of their father. Neteyam told her about his mother as well, how she almost killed Jake the first time she saw him. If it wasn’t for Eywa’s seed, none of the children would be here today. Every time y/n was told that particular story, she thanked the Great Mother for her signs. Thinking about the Great Mother, she prayed that, when the day comes, Neteyam will choose her as his mate. He is the next Olo’eyktan, he needed a Tsahik. When Mo’at offered to start training her, she was exited, hoping the young boy would ask her to be his future Tsahik. That was 4 years ago, he had yet to ask. Over the years, she lost hope he ever would. Sometimes, she would see his eyes wandering over other young girls, all prettier than her. They could dance, and sing, whereas she was good at healing. She could hunt, of course, however, when the humans came back, she was assigned as a healer. She was disappointed at first, then understood it was an important role, just like a soldier. Little did she know, it was Neteyam's begging that convinced Jake not to assign her as a spotter, like his sons. 

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Neteyam knew she would often get lost in her own little world, so he made sure to be as loud as possible, not wanting to startle her. For the last hours, he was trapped in his home, his mother refusing to let him leave her sight. He understood she was been scared of losing him, but he needed his freedom. Just for a few hours of normality, of tranquillity in their little cave. Neteyam was sure that the young girl would already be there, what he wasn’t expected was to fall on her naked in the hot spring. Of course, it was normal for them to go in the water, the heat of it helping them relax, getting them into a sleepy haze. However, they were always dressed, she must have thought he wouldn’t come tonight. How could she think that ? Neteyam was a boy of habits, of course, he was meeting her tonight.

It was a beautiful night, moons shining more than usual and the stars, Great Mother, the stars were a sight to see. The young boy found himself thinking it was a sign of Eywa for him to finally express his feeling. Everything was perfect, and he almost died today. That put things in perspective, he wouldn’t leave this world without her knowing how much she meant to him. 

‘’Hi.’’ Was all Neteyam said. Feeling embarrassed for the lake of words, he continued. ‘’It’s a really beautiful night, I can see you are enjoying it.’’ Of course, ever the gentleman, Neteyam turned his back to her, in case he scared her enough for her to turn around. 

In deed, hearing his voice, y/n jumped from fright, turning around quickly. Remembering she was naked, she stepped back until she was standing, water up to her chin. 

‘’Neteyam ! I thought you were not coming tonight. How are you ? How are your wounds ? Are you not tired ? ‘’ she asked, in a hurry to have her answers. Neteyam laughed gently, naturally, his sweet girl would be worried about him, it made his heart accelerate. 

‘’I am fine, don’t worry. Of course I was coming tonight, I missed you. I would have come sooner but, my mother was worried, so she didn’t let me leave. Had to wait until she fell asleep.’’ Thinking about his plan, Neteyam knew Tuk would get up in the night to go to Neytiri and Jake and his parents would definitely see he was not in his bed. He was in trouble, but it was worth it. ‘’Is the water warm ? I would kill for a bath.’’ 

He couldn’t possibly be thinking of joining her ? She was naked in the water, surely he had seen that. They were close, but not that close, although she wished they were. Before she could answer, she heard clothes hitting the floor. Too scared to look up, she turned around, swimming deeper in the water. 

‘’Neteyam ! What are you doing ?’’ The poor girl was shocked, he never acted so boldly, always shying away when she, lamentably, tried to flirt a little. 

‘’I’m just trying to relax in these nice and warm waters, just like you are. What is so wrong with that ?’’ Y/N could hear the smirk on his face. Approaching the young girl, Neteyam splashed her with water, to make her look at him. Knowing her like the back of his end, his little plan worked. Finally seeing her tonight, he gave her a genuine smile, which she returned of course. He wanted to hug her, but he wouldn’t test his luck. He could clearly see the girl was a bit uncomfortable, and if he was being honest, he was a bit too. He was never that bold, but tonight felt like the perfect time to be. So he continued.

‘’You know, I have been thinking about my coming ceremony, you know, when I’ll become Olo’eyktan. My mother had been going on about how I shall choose a mate, to be my Tsahik. She told me it was important I have a deep connection with this person, a strong Olo’eyktan and Tsahik mean a strong clan.’’ Y/N didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking, it felt like her heart was breaking, slowly, with each word leaving his mouth. He was going to tell her they couldn’t be seen together, that they couldn’t be friends any more. Her heart started accelerating, the panic she felt was giving her a hard time breathing. ‘’ The events of today made me realize that anything can happen at anytime, so I better make this decision quickly. I don’t want to die without a mate.’’

Before he could continue, y/n turned around, she didn’t want him to see the tears gathering in her eyes. He didn’t want the girl of the clan imagining she was anything else than a friend, they had to take distances for him to mate with another. After focusing enough to form thoughts, the young girl starting talking. 

‘’I get it, Neteyam. You must do what is best for the people. I heard that Tsu’la was the best dancer, and Noulat is the best hunter. They would make strong mates.’’ At those words, Neteyam became strongly confused. What was she on about? She couldn’t be thinking he would want another than her right ? After all those years together, all those moments he spent vulnerable, taking about his doubts and fears. Oh, Great Mother, she might have been the most intelligent girl he knew, but she was really dense at this very moment. 

‘’Dear Eywa, why must you be so blind ?’’ Neteyam asked, although he was amused at her clear sign of spite and jealousy when she said the other girls’ name. ‘’I don’t care about Tsu’la or Noulat, the girl I care about is the best healer I know. She is the most beautiful and the most intelligent girl of the clan. She can talk for hours about the plants and creatures of the forest. Not only that, but she is never bored with me when I tell her the same stories over and over again. Most importantly, she allows me to be myself, to be vulnerable and free when I’m with her. She has never seen me as anything else than Neteyam, not Jake Sully’s son, not the next Olo’eyktan, not the perfect oldest brother, just plain boring Neteyam.’’

The moment she understood he was describing her, she turned around, tears still in her eyes, but for a totally different reason. All this time, he felt the same thing ? Both felt stupid for not realizing that they could have been together a long time ago. When he was finished, y/n jumped to hug him, not caring that they were naked any more. She wanted to feel him, to feel his arms surrounding her. He felt like home.

‘’You are not plain nor are you boring Neteyam.’’ It was all she could whisper in his ear, still coming to terms with the fact that he had finally said something. He wanted her, not anyone else, her. Neteyam laughed quietly at her words, hugging her close to his body. Moving her head from his shoulder to press her forehead against his, the look in their eyes was full of vulnerability, respect and love. The outside world didn’t exist right now, it was just Neteyam and y/n, like it has always been. 

‘’I see you’’ was heard in the cave. And here, on this beautiful night, two souls became one. In their own little world, nothing could have torn them apart. 

[radiocrypt-id]

The bad kids haven't really looked too closely at the Rat Grinders (meta wise I know it's a commentary on different play styles and how shitty xp farming is and how op players/parties can become by doing the bare minimum if they put in the time while everyone else plays the damn game) but I find the split perspective problems absolutely fascinating. I can't wait for the Bad Kids to look at the Rat Grinders with envy and anger that the Rat Grinders got to live a normal highschool life without all this insane danger and experience being a teenager without it being the end of the world for them. Right now they just hate the Rat Grinders energy and are matching it back (which is a very high school thing to do. To have beef with a whole other group of kids and not even know why but you'll die on this hill because they started shit first)

Because to the Rat Grinders, from a purely outside perspective, the Bad Kids are fucking monarchs of the school, right? They skipped classes, ran around town, fought people, got arrested, hung out with a big devil? Every new staff member came at their recommendation? One of them has both her dads working at the school?? The destroyed school property, got teachers killed, straight murdered the coach? These fucking kids run around and are apparently scott-free? because the principal liked their chaos enough to let it go and help them avoid the police? To the Rat Grinders, the Bad Kids are untouchable. They're exempt from the law. They're liars, cheats and need to be humbled. It's unfair. From everyone elses perspective, it really does look like the Bad Kids have been given crazy favourtism.

Meanwhile, all of the Bad Kids have died at least once. They've been irreparably changed and are in a constant state of fight or flight. They assume everything is dangerous and anyone might be an enemy because for two goddamn years that was the exact case! They couldn't trust any adult first year! Literally anyone could have been infected with Kalina second year! who knows what happened with the Night Yord but I fucking bet they had issues with Yorbies pretending to be helpful just to kill them! Everyone, for two years, has been out to get them! They can't even sleep! And now they have to grind so hard or they fail. Adaine has a seemingly full time job after school basically every day because she literally can't afford to live? Fabian has taken on the most physically strenuous classes and sport one dude could and has dreams of also being a social legend because he's fucking lonely in that big house and he just wants to fill it. If anyone in the party fails or dies Riz is shit out of luck and wont ever get into a university? He so desperately wants his friends with him so he's working over time and ignoring his limits to make up for his party members not caring about the future. Fig is going through the strangest arc I've ever seen in my life? she's hard avoidant and taking three classes, so a 250% work load, because she's desperate to fill her time so she can't think about all the other work she has to do that if she ignores too long could crush her under the debt of her band from her label, or how alone she feels without her girlfriend around. Gorgug is so desperate to prove himself that he's doing four years of school work in one, trying to play catch up and also prove himself at the same time, he's taking it all so seriously but also is so fucking tired. And Kristen. Mother fucking Kristen "hey girlie" applebees. Expected to dedicate her life to a god with no direction, with the weight of failure being her gods death, while also being in school and also at your friends insistence needing to run for student body president and getting your priorities so mixed up and being completely left behind by her peers who didn't have to rework their entire world view and understanding of life in the span of a few months every few months.

The Bad Kids are in a terrible place. They're suffering. I want them to just say it out loud, to stop pretending they have it handled and are fine. I want Riz and Adaine to yell at the party to get their shit together. I want Fabian to tell someone how alone and abandoned her feels. I want Kristen to scream at Cassandra that she agrees, that it's not fair, she's just a kid, how could she be enough all on her own with no help? It sucks a god can only rely on a child, for both the god and child! They're both suffering from this arrangement! Neither is happy! I want Gorgug to beat the shit out of Porter with his inventions and rage at the same time, to make the best shit and use it in the most stunning way anyone has ever seen. I want Fig to finally get some freaking help, to have her teachers and parents reach out in a meaningful way and stop telling her to figure it out alone because clearly the pressure is too much for her to handle and she's drowning. I want someone, anyone, to look at the Bad Kids and tell them to stop. To help them. But I know it wont be that easy. I know it'll be the Rat Grinders yelling at how unfair it is the Bad kids get everything while they're on the sidelines that'll get under the Bad Kids skin and they'll yell about how awesome they are and that they didn't ask for any of this shit to happen to them and to fuck off. I know it's gonna get so much worse before it gets better. I know they'll figure it out and that it'll be a painful road there.

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

The thing about how Laudna deals with the many terrible things that have happened to her throughout her life is that she (and tbh many of her fans) acts as though she has uniquely suffered in such a way that no one else possibly could understand her pain. But several of the other members of the Hells share experiences similar to hers.

Had suffering inflicted on her for the sake of something she wasn't involved in that concerned people greater than herself? Orym experienced that when the Vanguard murdered Derrig and Will as part of a test, to see if the theory that Vax would appear to protect Keyleth was true. And sure Orym didn't die that day; he wasn't murdered as a part of this the way Laudna was. But this did serve as the impetus for him to leave his home and start wandering Tal'dorei, the same as being murdered and waking up on the Sun Tree did for Laudna.

Wandered the world for decades unable to make meaningful connections or really properly settle in one place because of something traumatic that happened in her past? Chetney's family all left him without a word at the start of the Icelost Years; he lost both his home and his family in one fell swoop, the same as Laudna. He then spent decades wandering the world afraid to make sincere connections in case those people left him too. He also can understand what it's like to be scorned and rejected specifically for the kind of creature that he is: Chetney's a werewolf in a world where such people are considered monsters by many.

Has the voice of some powerful, dark force whispering in her ear telling her she's nothing without her and needs her power to protect those she cares about? Dorian had that exact thing with the Spider Queen. Lolth preyed hard in his insecurities and feelings of inadequacy in order to try and convince him to put on the Circlet of Barbed Vision and become her Champion. She specifically leaned into the idea that he needed her power to protect his friends in much the same was Delilah is leaning into the idea that Laudna needs her power to keep Imogen safe. The message from both was: "You need me to protect that ones you love."

Laudna has experienced and continues to experience some very terrible things, but those experiences and the resulting pain aren't unique to her in the world of Exandria; they aren't even unique within her own personal circle. But she focuses so heavily on her own trauma that she doesn't notice this, and in fact specifically holds up her own trauma as greater when the pain of others is brought up ("Don't speak to me of loss"). It means she loses out on the wisdom the others could give her in dealing with her own life: building up a new life after a major and pointless traumatic event from Orym, learning to truly trust and open up to other people again from Chetney, and pushing back against the literal voice in your head telling you you're shit from Dorian. Instead she wallows in her own trauma blind to what it's truly doing to her and to the people around her.

[beggars-opera]

Hey, so we don't talk enough about A Christmas Carol as being at least a little bit about not continuing a cycle of abuse and neglect, both against others and yourself.

In the book little Scrooge is left languishing over the holidays in a boarding school for some never-explained reason, but it is made very clear that this is miserable and unfair, and that his father is doing this on purpose. His sister specifically comes to tell him that "father is so much kinder now than he used to be, that home's like heaven." This also reflects a bit of Dickens's own childhood when his father went into debtor's prison and little Charlie was forced to support his family working full time in a shoe-blacking factory at the age of 12 (which is also why so many of his books seem to have a moral of "hey, kids are people too and maybe we shouldn't make them work in the mines.")

Whatever family reunion happened after didn't work out, because Scrooge continues believing that no one is coming to save him and pulling himself up by his bootstraps at the detriment of all other social relationships is the only way forward. And the more he lives by that philosophy, the more miserable he gets, because obviously he pushes away anyone who has that hope that he lost. They threaten to break down the walls he's built and teach him that a big pile of money doesn't have to be the only thing that he can rely on, if he'd just let himself be vulnerable and have a relationship with people who care about him, because they're out there even if he's ignoring them.

There is a certain type of person still very much out there who thinks this way. "I've never been happy in my life, so no one else has a right to be either. I was abused in my childhood so it's only fair that everyone else suffer as well." We see this in parents who still try to use corporal punishment, and in wealthy people who ignore the social factors keeping others down and scream that everyone else is just entitled, that only those who suffer and scrape deserve happiness. And they especially hate the people like Fred who represent the past that could have been, who have maintained hope for the future, and seem to be rubbing their optimism in your face, when in reality they're just maintaining hope because it's the only way you can survive.

It's so important for Scrooge to actually see the impact this thinking has on both himself and multiple generations. Rich people have this weird hangup about this story because they think Scrooge is bad because he's rich. He's not, he's bad because he's a horrible person and a miser - he doesn't use his money to better anything, including himself. Salting the earth, everyone suffers here, including him. And he learns that he's going to die old and alone without ever having spent or enjoyed his money, and that his family feels sorry for him, and that the nameless masses of poor people out there that he decries so much are in fact living, breathing people, including tiny disabled kids who don't deserve to suffer just because you decided life isn't fair.

In the end he takes responsibility for actually uplifting the people in the next generation who are trying to make the world a better place and no longer punching down, because it doesn't have to be this way. So many people out there just give up hope because things are hard and they think trying to improve things is a pointless exercise that makes them look dumb. How dare you grow a year older and not an hour richer! How dare you marry for love! That's the only thing more ridiculous than a Merry Christmas! When in reality, there are plenty of people who would love to see them happy if they just had a chance.

It's really sad that, while the language used to describe it has changed, these problems still persist. That people feel so wronged and isolated that they spend their days ensuring everyone else will be as well. That they fail to see their fellow humans as fellow humans who are just as deserving of love and kindness and a roof over their heads. I don't care what time of year it is, we should all be lifting each other up rather than tearing each other down.

[oksana-moods]

All Too Well

Summary: Natasha tried to mend what's left broken. Because no matter what, she's the love of your life and she knows all too well.

A/N: It's been forever. This 5k piece felt like I was writing 300k, it was difficult, funny, hard and I miss doing this more often. I hope you guys like it and please, it be amazing for me to know your thoughts about it.

You can read it as One Too Many part 2 or as a single piece, it is up to you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, mentions of death, alcohol, angst (you know how I am, I can't simply write people kissing without suffering before).

"Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place"

The gun pointing at your face barely meters away should be intimidating, but at this point no one would blame you for not caring anymore. And you didn’t even mean the last couple of days, no, your whole life had been a fight, a struggle, an act of survival after another, so the last few days were nothing but the same blur.

The gunpower inundated your nostrils and the pungent smell masqueraded the smell of blood that clung to your brain and you were sure you wouldn’t erase it even if you got out of your current establishment.

Your heightened senses were capable of decerning all the different blood samples available in your cell: yours and from other occupants that came before you, or the blood that belonged to some of your kidnappers, who’ve learned in the worst possible way that you were not to be underestimated.

Back to the gun, the man behind it kept enchanting the same questions and you wondered how long it would take for them to get tired of your silence or mock replies. A sharp pain in the back of your head made you look up to meet his eyes, another man behind you was forcefully pulling your hair down to force your head up and you were already tired of him doing this.

“Where are the others?” The man with the gun asked, patience waning thin. Good to know you were on the same page. “Where is Romanoff?”

A blooded grin made its way to your face after you spat on his shoe. “It’s funny you think I’ll tell you now after all you’ve put me through. Do you think I’m afraid of your bullet?” And you didn’t even mean the fact that you probably wouldn’t die if he decided to shoot anywhere else other than your head, but you did mean that you were not afraid of dying.

Actually, you were so tired that perhaps laying down cold wouldn’t be unwelcomed. There wouldn’t be any pain, your body wouldn’t try to heal only to get hurt again. You thought it would be refreshing.

Two steps and the man pressed the gun over your knee, and you already knew, his wicked grin grew wider when your body convulsed with pain even though you concealed your scream in muffled grunts by biting your lips so tide you tasted your own blood, again.

“Why don’t you make it easier for you? You tell me what I’ve asked, and I kill you fast.” He pulled a chair and got comfortable for he knew all too well you wouldn’t budge easy. “I promise you. One silver bullet in your temple. Fast. Easy.”

Your eyes flashed to his. Silver bullets were really affective against your healing skills and very few possessed this knowledge. Someone must’ve tipped him off and the idea stung way much more than the powder burning the flesh inside your knee.

Only two women knew your weakness. Well, your creators knew, of course, but they were not in condition of speaking anymore. Unless someone from this organization was capable of going to hell to have a chat and then return to the living world with this intel.

Your love for Yelena was something so natural and it grew so fast for she was just deranged as you were: uncapable of functioning as what people labeled as normal. You were kindred souls and you felt like you were twins separated somewhere along the road and considering both of your past, who actually knew?

After long nights during long missions, you confided in her this. You were scared of losing control because sometimes the beast inside you took over and your brain couldn’t always sway the instincts. So you handed her one silver bullet in case things went south, she was adamant in returning it to you but you asked her to keep it, for insurance.

And the other person was Natasha. You never knew how she learned this but when she recruited you many, many years ago she already knew. If the pain in your leg wasn’t so overwhelming, you could’ve laughed at the memory engulfing your mind’s eye.

Her tide catsuit adorned with nothing but her black widow symbol, swaying her hips and pretending she wasn’t scared of the woman seated in front of her. You remember how her fear smelled, a stark contrast to her pose. You recall her words, her smile, her flirtatious play all to convince you to use your skills to her so called greater good.

And before leaving, she boldly closed the distance between you and placed a silver bullet in your hand. You understood the message. You weren’t stupid. Later she sworn that she was the only one, at S.H.I.E.L.D. or within Avengers, to know your weakness and you believed her.

And this belief comes back to bite you in the ass.

Because you knew full well that Yelena would die, she would kill herself even, before telling someone your secret. But Natasha? You didn’t trust her anymore. She had done it before, and you knew it all too well. If you were to be honest, after one too many treasons, you didn’t care about another.

Or so you told yourself.

“Good luck.” You rasped out after a long time inside your own head.

The man tilted his head to the side and smiled that smile that told you he already knew what you would say. You would go further and say he was eager for it. “I think in the torture manual says I should tell you that I don’t enjoy this, but I’d be lying. We actually bet how long it will take for you to drop the act and start screaming.”

You bet no one thought it would be that fast. He stumped a knife down your thigh so fast and so hard you saw stars. You could feel the silver poisoning the skin and muscle where it was nested, and it burned like nothing else would.

Unfortunately for them, the apex in you was not used to be a prey and this injury was powerful enough to make your survival instincts kick in. It happened so fast it was a haze, one minute he was laughing, the other he was on the ground - lifeless, and just as the others came, they followed their leader – well, who you thought the leader was, at least.

Funnily, your countdown was wrong, or you were not the only one putting your captors down. As the blood ran free down your leg, your strength and capability of keeping fighting diminished. When a body collided with yours, it was a miracle you were still awake.

Her red hair framed her face perfectly, skin white as snow and her green orbs looked like there was an aurora borealis looking down at you as she nested you in her lap as you felt life slipping through your fingers - veins.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me.” Her voice was strange, as if speaking was a struggle and she reeked fear, but not the same you were used to, as if she was feeling a different type of fear, it was a strange concept, but you hated it, nonetheless. If these were your last moments breathing, you wanted her true smell. The one you knew all too well.

“Please, don’t you dare die. I’ve got you.” Her muffled words found your ear, but it was hard to even comprehend anything at all when her lips felt so cold in your forehead. “Heal. Why are you not healing?”

“Silver.” It was all you could say. It was all you had to say.

She frantically started yelling at someone, perhaps the comms, but before you could close your eyes for good, you saw a red blur and he was complaining about your weight.

Her giggle filled the room as the first sun lights announced the day had just begun, you looked at her alarmed, for it was definitely something new. “Are you mocking me?” Enable to conceal a smile yourself.

“I’m not.” She denied, but her laugh told you differently. Her freckles painted her angelical face and her eyes looked like they held the sun captive. And you. And she knew, all too well. “It’s just I can’t believe you still have this scar.”

Her index finger traced said scar as she looked at you expectantly, waiting for your explanation, even though she already knew.

“I didn’t know Wanda’s necklace was made of silver, okay.” You finally replied, pulling her close to you as if her weight meant nothing, right in that moment this action felt so normal, so homely that it ached. “I thought I could take it from that heated place for her, but it burned me as I did. It was silly.”

She giggled again, though muffled by your shoulder this time, there was something new in her eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “It was cute. Silly, but cute. That necklace belonged to her mother.”

“I know.” You were locked in her eyes, and she stared at you as if she was trying to reach your soul, then you felt her fingertip leaving the palm of your hand to intertwine your fingers as she let her eyes stray to look at both of your hands.

The feeling was overwhelming. You were aware of how fast your heart was beating, you could only hope she couldn’t feel or hear it, for in that moment, all you wanted was to engrave the sight of you, together, and you wish you could just have this forever. Have her forever.

“I’ve never felt this before.” Her brows were furrowed in a way that made you upset, but you wouldn’t let go of her hand for nothing in this world, even if it was to soothe the crinkles in her forehead. “I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, there was nothing that you could do but wait for your brain to register her words and meaning, for a whole minute you simply stared at her, trying to search for a catch or a joke but you found none. And she looked up at you so innocently that you found yourself believing in her.

“I thought-.” You tried, but she never let you finish your sentence.

“I know what I said.” She stopped you midsentence, but her voice was not stern, it was almost tired. “This is not what I feel anymore.” Again, her eyes found yours and the way they shone made your knees weak, luckily you were laying on her mattress.

Somehow, they conveyed so much of this feeling she had claimed she was not capable of nurturing that your stomach did somersaults. And right in that moment, you realized that perhaps silver could hurt you, but this woman was your true weakness.

Specially if she’s looking at you the way she was.

“You already know how I feel about you.” You whispered, it was terrifying saying again the three words that you were sure would make her fly away from this strange arrangement you found yourself in. Yet she didn’t.

“I know.” She confirmed after a while admiring your eyes as if she could read your mind. After deciding she was content with whatever she found, she leaned in and pecked your lips so tenderly it hurt.

Then, when she looked at you again you saw, from the small smirk growing in her lips, that she had gone back to play her prime character: the Black Widow.

“Let’s have a breakfast before the funeral, shall we?” As she got of the bad, you copied her movements going back to your own suitcase to find something comfortable as her voice broke the silence filling the room. “I never asked how you and Sharon became friends to the point you’d come to a funeral of her relative.”

The cleanliness of the room was the first thing you were aware of. In fact, you didn’t even realize you were awake, therefore alive, before the smell hit your nostrils. And with it, her scent.

The occasional up and down from her feet and bouncing leg was the only sound in the room except for the noise coming from the heart monitor over your head. She was anxious, that much was obvious even if you weren’t an enhanced being.

Mentally searching for your injuries and pain, you understood that whatever had happened with you, was all gone. Excluding the lingering pain in some specific places that you credited to silver induced wounds that would take way much more time to wear off.

However, considering the state you were in, whoever tended these wounds had operated a true miracle.

As you opened your eyes, you half expected bright lights, common to these hospital rooms to hurt your eyes, but you soon identified that the only source of light was a yellow bulb close to the door.

Natasha.

“Thanks for working the lights down.” You rasped out and stifled a giggle as she jumped from her chair by the wall and bolted to your bed side. The book previously nested between her hands now long forgotten on the floor.

The iron grip which she clutched your hand didn’t go amiss to you. “A week.” The sadness in her eyes was palpable. “A whole week blacked out.” She explained further but you didn’t need to know the details of how long you were sleeping or how many times your heart stopped at surgery.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Then it hit you, the same type of fear your nose caught when she found you in that facility, it was fear but not the one someone feels when they’re actively facing danger, but it was fear for someone else. Fear of losing someone.

Something stirred inside your heart, but it was something that you couldn’t dwell much longer, not, at least, in that moment.

“They had me, after you sent me as scout.” Your tone was flat, and her eyes widened a little at the bluntness of your accusation, though you were far from settling for little. “They knew about the silver.”

Her hold faltered, but your hand was still snuggled between hers. “What are you accusing me of?” She narrowed her eyes, but her green orbs were bright even in the poor light.

“Cynicism doesn’t suit you the way you think it does.” Before you could even pull back your hand, she completely let it go and got to her feet. “Look at my eyes and tell me that you actually didn’t let them get me, just to find their hideout.”

She had her back turned to you, acutely avoiding your gaze. “Look at me!” You demanded and she had the gall to look at you through her lashes, as if her seductive skills could help her now. You wouldn’t fall for that, and she knew it all too well.

“It wasn’t my intention for you to be captured and I never thought someone else would know about your weakness. I thought I was the only one alive to know.” She finally turned to you, eyes now darting around the floor as if it could grant her the answers she sought.

“Lena knows too.” You corrected her, but if she was surprised by your update, she never showed.

Shaking her head right to left as if to deny such possibility, she exclaimed. “She’d never do this to you.” It was funny that at least in this matter you agreed. “I think she loves you more than she loves me.” A sly smile escaped her lips and you had to restrain your heart from fluttering at the sight of it.

“I was waiting for your check-in. I went to your assigned coordinates, and I know I underestimated their numbers, but I would never let someone capture you.” Her feet dragged her back close to your bed but maintained some distance between you.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” You shot back without missing a single beat, crossing your arms around your chest.

She sighed tiredly and looked down at the floor. You wouldn’t let her forget that she was the main cause for you to be locked in the Raft, well, her and your support for Steve when Ross tried to shove the Sokovian Accords down your throat, and solely because you shared his point of view.

After being controlled for most of your life by a group with shady intentions, you swore you’d never submit your loyalty and services to a third party again, even if it was a government group – specially a government group, actually, so only over your dead body you’d accept the Accords.

But when you came back to see if Natasha was fine, she had gone without thinking that you were left behind and in the care of Ross to be taken to the Raft with the others, without sparing a single thought to you.

“I’d never ever willingly put you in danger.” She said taking another step closer to you. “I have never mentioned to anyone about your secret, and I purposefully kept it out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files.”

Her eyes kept darting from her hands to your eyes, never focusing, never staying too long. “Look, I know Yelena would never speak about it, but I wouldn’t either. And I didn’t, you must believe me!”

“I must?” Your eyebrows shot up so high so fast it hurt. “Well, you made it pretty damn hard for me to believe, don’t you think, Nat?” Your tone was hard, but you were not even speaking too loud.

Somehow, Natasha thought this hurt way much more.

“C’mon all I feel for you-” She tried to counter, but you wanted to swallow the lump stuck in your throat trying to choke you, so you cut her midsentence.

“Words, Natasha.” She found herself locked within your burning eyes. “I kept you as an oath, yet you hid me like another dirty secret. And all you’ve felt you kept hidden – buried – just as who you really are.”

After years thinking about how she lured and how she hurt you, you thought that maybe spatting what your relationship really was – a hidden lust, would make you feel better, would free yourself from her hold, but it didn’t.

After all, calling her unfair wouldn’t change how lonely she made you feel, how she took your happiness away whenever she drew herself back to her main character as she left you daydreaming about imaginary scenarios built in “what ifs”.

As your words found her ears, they settled heavily in her stomach. She knew she had massed up, she had hurt you many times, yet all she wanted was go back in time and erase all her wrongs and all the times she promised and never delivered.

She didn’t possess a time stone, though. There was nothing she could do about the past, however, she knew she couldn’t run from her mistakes anymore. If she wanted to start anew, she’d have to show she was different.

She wanted to, no, she needed you to understand that she was a whole new person because you’ve changed her. She didn’t want to hide anymore and for that she’d have to let go of her walls and be vulnerable. Truly vulnerable.

Funnily, she had played with her vulnerability before, being vulnerable just enough for people to lower their shields or masks so she could get what she wanted but this was something else entirely.

This time she wouldn’t act. She’d be vulnerable, at your mercy hoping she’d make it out alive on the other side. It was something new and it scared her, but losing you was scarier.

“I didn’t know you came back to check on Barton…” She tried weakly, knowing that this was a sore subject for the both of you. Each with your own views and reasons.

“I helped Clint, yes, but we went back looking for you. Yet, Ross was all we’ve found.” Your glare was cold, perhaps colder than ever. In the pit of her stomach, she knew she deserved it, she just wish you could move on with it.

“I was wrong, okay. Is that what you want to hear?” She snapped, though her voice was still in a low tone, eyes sad. And you hated it. “I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for not going after you that day at the airport or at the Raft.”

Her eyes fell once more to your hands, she slowly nursed them in hers and this action was so soft, so hesitantly as if she was afraid of you taking it away; afraid of you shutting her down once more.

“I wish I could do things differently, but I can’t, and for that I’m sorry. But I- I wish we could try move on from this. I still have feelings for you.” As words flowed through her tongue, you watched as eyes portrayed a sincerity that you rarely saw within those forest green orbs.

Usually, they hid her true feelings or performed like an actress twisting her truths mixed with pieces of lies and characters she created through life until she herself was unaware of what was true or not.

“I hear you, Natasha.” You rasped out after a long moment lost inside her beautiful eyes. “You speak of things as you did before, yet you never act on it.”

Her hands were warm, a muted invitation to go back to your dreams of having a life with her. The only person who never showed any sign of fear about your nature, that never once treated you like an animal.

She never treated you like a woman either.

“I want you to show me.” Your stone-cold eyes punctuated your feelings in the matter at hand. If she wanted to have you back, she’d have to show you she’s changed for words could only take her so far.

“I will.” She vowed and smiled softly, though her heart was shattering inside her chest. She made a career making people believe in whatever she wanted, she supposed she’d be able to make you believe in her heart.

How hard would that be?

Laugh filled the room after another not-so-funny Tony’s jokes and your head throbbed as the sound echoed inside your skull. Parties like these were always a torture for you, after all, your enhanced abilities of hearing and catching smells better than a normal person proved to be really awful in a place full of people with different perfumes, scents, chattering and loud music.

However, Tony himself forbid you from leaving tonight for this was his engagement party and it would be rude to Pepper if you left too early. Deciding that indulging him was easier than arguing with him, you found a safe corner and pretended to enjoy whatever was going on.

Though, your sharp eyes, even though you tried hard, always wandered after a certain redhead and you could all but clench your jaw every time you judged someone got too closer for your comfort.

Jealousy clawed its way through your throat and even the best bourbon from the bar couldn’t help it. You knew you had no right, no claim, especially after your last conversation. Still, your heart acted on its own and made sure you’d regret your words and resolve.

Considering that you were one drink from scooping lower than ever for her, you abandoned your glass on a random table and vanished to the balcony in hopes the fresh air could help your head and brain.

The cars down the streets ran from side to side completely unaware of your inner turmoil as you pathetically looked down searching for answers you wouldn’t find there.

In fact, as your answers arrived at the balcony, you realized that her hills clicking the marble floor announced her before her perfume invaded your nostrils in waves as she moved closer and closer towards you.

“Tired of mingling?” She asked as she lined her body at the railing. Her red hair bobbed around her ears in meticulously designed waves and her dark maroon dress hugged her curves in all the nice places.

She was flawless.

As always.

“I think I might’ve break Sam with incredible five words.” You gave her a sly smile that she retributed with a smirk and a fake gasp.

“This is basically a whole speech.” She clicked her tongue playfully. “I think you’ve been around Tony just too much.”

You snorted a laugh and she let a broad smile paint her lips, content with herself for making you ease the pained expression adorning your face the whole evening.

Uncertenty hugged you like a cold blanket as you pondered your next words. As if rolling the dices in a game you were sure you’d end up losing, you turned to her and spoke. “You’re really beautiful tonight, Nat.”

Your heart fluttered as she fought back a smile trying to win her lips and looked down as if she wasn’t expecting your praise. She genuinely looked flustered by your words.

“Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself. Well, I already praised your choice of suit, earlier.” She turned her body so now she was fully looking at you and you tried to remember how to properly breath. However, it was as if the air was composed of her scent.

You were intoxicated.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. “This is the first time we speak tonight.” You clarify. Truth be told you’ve been keeping a fair distance from her and funnily enough she didn’t make the effort to push you and your comfort space.

She did make it obvious that she was trying, though. She invited you out in front of people, she brought you coffee whenever you were reading in the garden in the morning or brought you a blanket when you were on the couch watching movies with Wanda.

Whenever you were called to a meeting, she worked the lights so it wouldn’t hurt your eyes that much. And, one day, she brought you the files they recovered from Hydra from the mission you were taken, and you both learned that one of your creators left behind a journal and there were a lot of dirty secrets down there. Including yours.

To be honest, she was really trying to show her true intentions, but you were still afraid that this was just for show, just a ploy for you to lower your guard and be disappointed after she return to her normal pattern of misleading.

However, the way she stood basking in the moon light looking at you like she was slowly sipped through the cracks of your determination of not giving in that easy.

Her soft smile was a sight to see, and you even forgot that you were waiting for her to reply. “Directly, yes. I sent a drink to you earlier.”

Then it clicked in your head. Your laugh was loud and very uncharacteristic of you, though Natasha simply stood there admiring your carefree stance, a rare occurrence.

Your mind traveled to a moment earlier that night when the waiter approached you with a drink in hand, stating that the lady had sent it to you complimenting your fine tailored suit. At the time, the way he vaguely waved in the direction of Agatha and other ladies, you thought that one of them had been the person.

Though if you thought harder about it, Natasha was at the bar in that moment, right behind said ladies.

“Now it made sense.” You grinned back at her and nodded your head softly. “Thank you for the compliment and the drink.”

“Of course.” She flashed on last smile and turned her body to admire the city bellow and you did the same. Though you found it hard to ignore her presence by your side. You could feel the heat emanating from her skin, her sweet scent still impregnating the air around you and you could hear her fast heartbeat. It was uncommon.

In a haste, you both turned towards each other and started to speak at the same time. A nervous laugh scaped your lips as you signaled for her to go on first. And she did.

She closed her eyes as one does when bracing for the impact, as if second-guessing her next step, but when she opened her eyes again, there was no doubt and no deceit. “I love you and it’s ruining my life not having you, knowing that I am the one who pushed you away.”

You were speechless by her blunt confession, specially because she never, ever, used the word love in such a direct sentence. She expressed her feelings before, yes, but always with an adore, in love with you once or twice, never this straight.

She took your silence as hesitancy and reached for your hand, she yearned for your touch and the closeness of the last weeks made her heart clench with longing. “I am asking for a chance to show you who I really am, and I, please, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I wish to make it up to you.”

Her eyes were pools of emotion and you had trouble in breathing with her so close now. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, the way I should’ve since the very first time I kissed your lips.” Her free hand caressed your cheek in such a tender way that you felt your knees weak.

She was definitely your true weakness.

You brain was haywire, short-circuiting with the lack of air and the sudden increase in your heartbeats. There she was. The woman you felt like you could love forever, offering you what you always wanted: her heart. For real this time. Not the hide and seek games you’ve been playing in the past.

She promised and have been showing changes, however, if you were to be honest, all she’d have to do was to come at you and say hi. If you were to be honest, she would always have your heart at her mercy.

Unable to form words and knowing that your silence was unnerving for her, as you saw her brows furrowing, you decided to answer her differently as you brought your hand to her own cheek and guided her lips to meet yours.

Her lips were soft as they used to be, and you could feel her body melting into the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open when you broke the kiss and smiled softly at her. “I love you too, Nat.”

Smiling back at you, Natasha circled her arms behind your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and another. And another.

And you knew, all too well, that she wouldn’t stop soon.

taglist: @username23345; @afuckingshituniverse; @strangegardentaco; @waltermis (I know you didn't specifically asked to be tagged, but I am doing it, nonetheless, because if your rb - and because you sparked a fire in this. Thank you.)

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

okay okay rapid fire spider-verse thots fresh out of the theater, trying to minimize spoilers but jesus

da Vinci-looking Vulture... very cool

the art on Gwen's earth in general is SO cool

in general the animators were just SHAMELESSLY showing off with this one and it rules so hard

Rio Morales animated milf of all time

truly do not understand what all of you see in Miguel tbh that man suuuuuucks!! kill!!

Peter B is also on my shit list tbh. Gwen going along with this is understandable, she's literally a homeless teenager in a bad position to fight against adult spiders making decisions, but Peter... come on dude...

truly they HAD to leave Pav out of the middle of the movie because he would have sided with Miles (you think he would want Inspector Singh to die!! fuck no!!) and he's perfect so he would have just effortlessly swept the floor with every other spider-person

Gwen is flirtatiously trans coded and responds to Spider-Man at least once, congrats to her on the fun gender

Jessica's design is so cool but they made her such a cop... god I hope she's coming around in the next movie

cannot wait to see gifs of this movie slowing down every frame to point out every individual background spider-person

the fucking. the family of it all. Miles' parents afraid to let him grow up and Gwen's dad unable to accept the truth about his daughter and Miguel trying to raise a daughter who wasn't supposed to be his and Peter B's baby girl and Jessica Drew's visible baby bump and the spiders' collective miserable certainty that they are DEFINED by the trauma of losing someone they love.

something something Miles' parents and the spider society have the same problem - being afraid of change from what they thought was The Right Way To Do Things - but Miles' parents love and trust him to make the right choices beyond their understanding while Miguel and the other spiders are too hurt by their own traumas to imagine someone else thriving without it

also fuck all of them the boy's uncle died in front of him after trying to kill him HAS HE NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH

Hobie's soooo annoying (affectionate) but also right about, like, literally everything AND good with babies to boot

the whole ending is so ‼️‼️‼️‼️

the thing with Miles and Uncle Aaron at the end... you know the thing... DELICIOUS au right there tell me everything about that shit

the fucking end man

I've NEVER been in a theater where everyone collectively screamed @ the end of a movie fuck fuck fuck. there's cliffhangers and then there's THIS

[meo-eiru]

hi dear, I'm not sure if ur ask box is already open, sorry if it isn't, please take your time and stay healthy

soo I've been thinking about that whole concept of delulu elf babying us and BOY isn't that depressing?? like I'd have a whole ass existential crisis after some time

I mean in my perspective, it must be pretty humiliating for a grown person to be not be taken seriously to such extent. like our boy doesn't even trust us to leave the house and is convinced that his darling needs his absolute protection. no personal space, little to no social interactions except for him, etc.

ANND the worst part is that Silas doesn't even realize that he's doing something wrong, unlike classic yanderes. in his head, he's only doing what's best for darling, without any ill intentions (man's head is filled with unicorns and rainbows). in a way, he's the child here; one that accidentally breaks a kitten's paw because they hugged it too tight.

so can you really blame him? can you really bring yourself to hate him? even if you're upset at him for taking away your basic human rights, he's only trying his best for you!! even if his concept of that "best" is a bit twisted. it's a whole ass internal conflict for darling we have here!

and like, I'm a pretty empathetic person, so I'd hate to see him cry. I'd hate myself if I ever snapped at him (he should only cry from pleasure uh huh). so the only choice I have is to slowly convince Silas to change, but can that really work? what if I'd have to spend a millenia like this, slowly dying on the inside?

that's kind of a hilarious concept for me, like, he's the mama here, but you have to sit him down and patiently explain how your body works, to not die because of overfeeding or smth like that

you created a masterpiece, my brainworms are brainworming so hard rn. I also have some interesting thoughts abt Elias ^^

(DESPAIR!! SUFFERINGS!! ok I'm sorry I still want to squeeze his booba like a stress ball)

I love this ask a lot because that's exactly the vibe I was going for with him.

It's very contradicting. On one hand his mothering is appealing because someone taking care of you with such genuine love is... nice. No matter how you act, no matter what tricks you pull, Silas will forever and ever love you with all his heart. You are his precious flower and he has so much affection for you. He can heal you, he can keep you fed, he can give you the love no one else can.

But at the end of the day that love will be the thing that ruins you. The fundamental difference between you two's existence, how you two view life and each other is just too much. While Silas can take care of your basic needs and give you love, him being so unable to fully understand you and your capabilities can and will eventually break you.

Silas is nice but he isn't. Silas can keep you healthy but also can't. He thinks he's sufficient for you but he just isn't.

He's beautiful and lives in a bright world full of colors but will be the one who'll strip your world of color.

You'll slowly change as he continues to suffocate you with affection.

And he will do all of it with genuine love and good intent in his heart.

Which is what makes him so contradicting. He's like your doom wrapped in cute packaging and presented to you by someone who loves you. He's a poison turned into a warm homecooked meal.

[stevieschrodinger]

There’s a quiet beeping noise. It’s very regular and kind of annoying; but then Eddie fucking hates the ticking of clocks. Finds them impossible to ignore once he’s heard it.

He shifts, and then almost immediately stops because fucking ow.

Ow. Well this is shit.

Eddie hums in agreement.

The mattress made a terrible creaky noise; like it’s plastic, and the air smells like disinfectant. Oh. Hospital. Which means holy shit, he’s alive.

Well, I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting this.

Eddie hums again, blinking open gummy eyes. It’s dark other than a rectangle of light on the popcorn tiled ceiling; shining through the door from the hallway. It’s a pretty average hospital room, except for the glaring anomaly that is Steve Harrington, snoring gently in an arm chair.

Holy shit, is that Harrington?

“Yeah-” Eddie starts to answer out loud, and then finally realizes that he’s answering someone. His voice is fucked and his mouth is dryer then Gandhi's sandals, but he still tries, “errr…who are you?”

Wait, you can hear me??

Eddie tries, really hard, to think loud thoughts, firstly because his throat is fucked and it hurts to talk, and secondly because he doesn’t actually want to wake Steve, yes?

Holy shit. It’s me. I mean. Hargrove. Billy Hargrove.

Well...fuck. I thought you were dead?

No. No, I just kind of got...absorbed. Like I was in the, you know, in that place with everything else.

The upside Down.

Whatever. But then Henry died. We all felt it when Henry died. And I was just kind of...loose.

You knew his name?

We all knew his name.

Which is not a terrifying thought like, at all. Especially not with how weighty the thought is when Hargrove delivers it. We all knew his name. Holy shit.

And then there was you and I saw my chance. I was so sure you were going to die, and I figured if I was in there, you’d take me out with you.

Oh. Well I was kind of assuming that I was dead, considering I now have the ghost of Billy Hargrove talking at me from in my own head.

Yeah. Death is a pretty solid explanation for me too. Think the afterlife could do better than this, though. Eddie can feel it when Hargrove yawns. Can feel that they’re both tired. Tries not to be vaguely offended that the inside of his head isn't good enough for Hargrove. Why is he here?

I dunno man, I mean, I was kind of with them at the end you know, I was part of the plan. Maybe he feels responsible or something.

Eddie can feel Hargrove turn that one over, what do you think he’s dreaming about?

Wet tee shirt competition, Eddie answers instantly and without thought, can feel Billy snort a laugh, can sense his amusement clearly.

Being Prom king? Sinking the winning ball?

Being asked to judge a wet tee shirt competition because he’s prom king?

Hargrove sniggers again, but then becomes thoughtful, you’re taking this really well. What if it’s like, permanent?

Eddie yawns, ask me again tomorrow. He's way too tired to deal with this.

It takes four days for Eddie to be able to actually stand alone long enough to take a piss in an actual bathroom, which is amazing. It's four days of having his life choices sometimes critiqued by Billy Hargrove, but it isn't the worst. At least they're on first name terms now, and Billy has been surprisingly sensitive when it comes to Eddie's recovery.

The first piss after the catheter came out was pretty fucking unpleasant, but not being alone for this stuff has actually been okay. Having Billy saying ow ow ow in the back of his head during that first piss had made it somehow more bearable. At least he's not suffering alone.

And he’s so done with pissing into those funny little bottle things and then enduring the mortification of handing it to someone.

You’re feeling pretty pleased with yourself over this.

“Yeah well, some of us enjoy pissing in private,” Eddie grumbles back.

When he turns to wash his hands, he squeals and nearly knocks everything off the counter. He then whimpers in pain, because he turned way too fast.

“Eddie? You okay?” Steve asks, knocking on the door.

“I’m fine. I’m fine man. Give me a minute,” Eddie looks over the bathroom. The empty bathroom. But no, no, he definitely saw- Eddie turns slowly back to the mirror, and there, leaning against the wall, “Billy?” Eddie breathes.

He looks over his shoulder again, just to make sure, but nope. He’s still definitely alone.

What?? Can you see me?

Billy moves, standing next to Eddie. He looks...good. Clean. Perfect. Blue jeans and a white polo with the collar popped a bit, gold chain around his neck. He looks exactly like Eddie remembers. “I thought you were like, inside my head?”

I am. I mean. I thought I was but...I can see me too.

Steve knocks, “Eddie? You talking to yourself man? You’re taking a while-”

“We should go, before he can untwist his panties, we can...check this again, later?”

Yeah. Yeah, later.

Part Two

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Slasher!Soap x Suicidal!Reader

After unwillingly escaping death you find that you're left to deal with the aftermath of your emotions.

Slasher Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, Suicidal Ideation and Depression, Reader is poor and struggling, Food insecurity, Stalking, Perverted Acts, Stealing, Jerking off, Panty stealing, Dub-Con behaviour, Slight Somnophilia, Reference to Crude and Objectifying language, Harassment and Torture, Choking, Attempted murder, sorry if I missed any.

Head heavy with fatigue you struggle to raise it away from the blue glare of your college laptop. The cracked digital clock hung on your dorm room wall showed it was well past midnight. Your shoulders were stiff, your hands stained with ink from your pen. It felt like things were bursting at the seams. Like you were one stitch away from falling apart. You felt like a chewed up rag doll. Hunched over your desk like some night crawler.

But you couldn't rest. Despite the pounding in your head you continued staring at your blue screen. You had your final exam in two days and you were working a twelve hour shift tomorrow since someone decided to quit last minute. Your stomach growls anger at you for skipping dinner for the third night in a row.

Pushing your smudged notes aside for the moment you open your budget planner. With the way things were going you weren't going to be able to afford eggs or meat for a while. Probably not until next month you think. You had to move out of the dorms soon as well. And all your money had gone towards securing another place to live. Luckily you managed to get a dingy basement studio about 20 minutes away from college.

On the bright side you'll finally be able to get your steps in now. It was the cheapest private space you could find with your salary. It would have been cheaper to share a living space but you couldn't deal with another year of shitty roommates. Shitty roommates who loved stealing food and borrowing things that weren't theirs. You're pretty sure you'd die of frustration within the first month if it happened again. Your so called 'friends' were of no help either. They only ever texted you when they needed help with coursework. It seems like that was all you were good for.

After everything that's happened this year you didn't know why you were working so hard for. There was no light at the end of the tunnel for you. You were suffocating in the oppressive darkness. And no one was willing to help. Not even the blue eyed devil who had promised to end your suffering.

All you could do was keep walking ahead hoping perhaps one day you'll reach the light. Wherever it was.

But right now you were just stuck in this never ending cycle of hate and compliance. At the end of the day you knew what you were, you were a coward. Someone who couldn't stand up for herself. Someone who allowed people to walk all over her. Someone who did everything to please others in the hope of receiving an ounce of love and affection. The very same you love you chastise yourself for craving.

Plastering on a fake smile was your escape from reality. Saying everything was ok was your bread and butter. It was better than becoming a burden everyone resented. So you had no choice but to say you didn't mind being forgotten, that you didn't mind being used and discarded. What else could you do? It wasn't like you were going to voice your pain. I wasn't like you were going to ask for better treatment. No one remembered you and no one cared unless you had something to offer….

Apart from…maybe….no not even him. He was just like the rest. Much like others he dangled a carrot in front of a starving donkey just to make a fool out of it. No wonder he left as soon as he realised he wasn't going to get what he wanted from you.

Images of piercing blue eyes flood your already overwhelmed mind. The same eyes that had followed you for weeks if not months. The ones that you thought perhaps liked you at the beginning before everything got so sinister.

You used to see them everywhere, at work, on the streets, at the library, at the park. Anywhere you went you felt them following you. You felt him following you. And then the notes started appearing, short and sweet. Always signed off with a heart at the end.

You'd be lying if you said they didn't make your heart flutter at the start, that his sweet words didn't fill the longing in your heart.

His calls started not long after the notes did. That's when the sinking feeling entered your stomach. Soap, his deep voice had uttered on the first night he had called you. His breath came out in hot pants as he asked you to say it back to him.

His name was odd but you didn't particularly care at that moment. Too concerned with how he got your number. That's when you knew you fell for a lie. But even after realising that you didn't want things to end.

You later found out why he gave himself such a silly nickname. With a kill record so clean you'd wondered how no one caught on by now, but then again you suppose the answer was in the name.

His notes soon lost their sweetness and the crude language objectifying your body flooded in. It wasn't long after the calls started that you noticed things going missing. First it was small trinkets, then much bigger things were gone from where you left them. It was only when you were down to your last three pairs of panties did you realise his overly perverse obsession with wanting you scared. He left your soiled underwear for you to find often with pictures of you sleeping in your dorm. If he was in a particularly cruel mood, he'd send videos of jerking off very close to your face while he degraded you for being so unguarded. He'd taunt you over the phone, often reciting off everything you did that day, down to the underwear you were wearing. And how he'd like to soil them with his seed. Much like how he'd like to soil and taint your flesh with blood. There must have been cameras in the room. It's the only way he could have known.

Coincidentally it was always on days where you'd get home from a long shift at work. He wanted you asleep. It's not surprising he'd take advantage of that. Especially not after all the explicit notes he left for you to read.

You played along to his sick twisted game of torture. You gave him the satisfaction of being scared. Of crying big fat tears when he wanted. And he loved it. He ate the lie right out of your hands. A couple tears spilled here, a couple choked up sobs there and he was panting like a dog over the phone. Almost certainly touching his needy swollen cockhead. You enjoyed being wanted for once. Even if you were just putting on an act to keep him interested. Being desired for more than what you could do for others felt freeing. Though this was just the other side of the same coin. You were being used either way. But this felt nicer.

He could still be watching now even though you haven't heard from him after the ‘incident’. After everything fell apart in a matter of seconds.

One slip in your expression was all it took for his demeanour to change from excitement to anger and then to confusion.

With the things he has claimed to have done he was being awfully gentle with you. You always wondered why? Was it pity? If it was, why didn't he just end it the night he had his hands wrapped around your throat. That night shattered any ounce of dignity you had left. You'd never forget the look of boredom in his eyes when he said ‘There's no fun in killing the dead Dove…’

Before he was so explicit on his desire to tear you apart. To cut and slice you until you begged and pleaded for mercy. To carve a pretty necklace of blood all over the delicate skin on your neck while he ruts his hard cock inside of you. He told you about his sick fantasies often. And he loved going into detail on how he'd dress you up before ripping you apart. You would have played along too. Had he not left so abruptly you could have slipped back into the facade he wanted.

There were no goodbyes exchanged, not even a nod of acknowledgement. You suppose you weren't even worth that to him. Or anyone for that matter.

You remember crying silently into your pillow after he had left. There was something else in his eyes that night but you couldn't decipher it. That hurt you more than anything else that happened. Because you knew that's how everyone viewed you. Like you were just an afterthought. Someone not worth thinking about. Maybe if you had played the role of prey better you'd be resting in your grave right now.

A sane person would have gone to the police the second the notes and calls started. But you think sanity had left you long ago. It's the only reasonable explanation for your behaviour.

For some odd reason at that time the thought of dying at the hands of a man so obsessed with you didn't feel so bad. Being wanted for once made your heart all fuzzy. Despite knowing why he wanted you. And what he was going to do to you. You desperately wanted to keep his gaze fixated on you. He has probably moved on already. Perhaps scouting out another town over for his next victim. You could still go to the police but you were too ashamed to do that after what you've done.

Back then you were just waiting until he made sure on his promises to end you. It was weird in the way you fantasised about all your troubles ending by his hands. You would picture him kissing your lips when your last breath finally left you. Kinda like the opposite of sleeping beauty yet for some fucked up reason you found it romantic.

You couldn't fathom anyone loving you in any mundane way. You would have experienced it by now if anyone had cared enough. You suppose in your mind Soap must have really cared for you if he was willing to end your suffering. It's probably the reason why you fell so hard for him. But those feelings disappeared the same day he left the job undone.

Tears sting your eyes but you hold them back unwilling to fall apart again. Especially now. You had things to do. You couldn't afford to deviate from your schedule.

You sigh, rubbing the tiredness and unshed tears out of your eyes. With your pen back in your grasp you click it to begin your mental torture again still wishing that you'd die of a heart attack or something so you didnt have to deal with this.

You only get two sentences written before a floorboard creaking halts your movements. You freeze not from fear but rather from confusion.

It couldn't be Soap right? He hasn't contacted you in weeks…But what if it was him?

Has he come to finally finish the job? You doubt it..did someone break in? Unlikely because there was nothing of value in these dorms, the majority of students were broke.

With your nerves vibrating with uncertainty you get up to go to the kitchen. You don't bother arming yourself, it's not like you have any will to live even if it was a break in. It's better just to accept your fate. You're exhausted anyway.

Despite trying to steel yourself for what's about to happen your hands still shake opening your door. Stepping into the dark hallway you find that the kitchen light is on despite knowing you turned it off before going to your room. You strain your ears trying to hear any sound of movement in your apartment. But it's eerily silent. Uncomfortably so.

What made it worse was that all the rooms except yours were empty now. So no one was here to help. Not that you wanted help. But you didn't like the uncertainty of the situation you were put in. It made your skin crawl.

For someone who wanted to die so badly you hated that your body still felt fear on behalf of your mind. The cold sweat trickling down your spine felt like a betrayal to yourself. You shouldn't be afraid…this is what you wanted…wasn't it?

Your heart pounds in your chest as you force yourself to move. To get closer to your demise even if your body tries to fight you on it. After the incident with Soap nothing felt the same anymore. You could tell yourself all you want that you weren't afraid, that you want to die but the fact this most likely wasn't Soap had your skin prickling with terror.

Somehow you still move you don't know how but you do. You cringe as your feet cause the floorboards to creak under your weight. But before you know it you're at the kitchen counter staring at a bag of takeaway with a note taped to the side. You feel something watching you as your brain finally deciphers the lettering on the paper.

'Look behind you 🖤'

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[sansaorgana]

Can you do a buck x reader where she’s a nurse and takes care of everyone at the 100 and they all think she’s just perfect and a mother figure while all the soldiers are away from that mother figure and one day she like snaps when having to deal with screaming soldiers and she goes up to one the higher power guys and like cussing them out for constant sending the men into a death trap and her having to pick up the pieces and buck has to hold her back while she’s just screaming at the other guy and everyone else is like 🧍

hello, thank you for your request! 🧡 I've just realised that none of my previous Readers in the stories with Buck were nurses lol 😷 most likely because I can't even imagine myself as a nurse and writing about all these things is enough to make me feel sick 🤣 but because of this, it was easy to write this story where the Reader is at her breaking point lol proceed with caution because there are ugly descriptions of blood, needles, death etc.

also this gif asdfghjkl I swear, in the story he has more compassion towards the Reader 🤣🤣🤣

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

You thought you could do it. When the war had started, you hadn’t thought twice as you had signed up to help. Real help. No paperwork or coffee making. You had wanted to become a nurse.

The physical aspect of your job was not that difficult. You knew what to do in most situations and you had learnt how to stop frowning at the physiological body functions. It was the emotional aspect of the job that no one had prepared you for.

Sometimes the boys would come back from the air battles with nothing but mere scratches. They would still come by just to spend time with you and let your gentle, skilled hands to patch them up as they were telling you stories.

Sometimes the same boys would not come back from their next mission and the stories they had told were all that was left of them. You would cherish them in your heart forever.

Sometimes the boys would come back burnt, with half of their faces blown out or their guts bleeding all over the floor. Their screams of pain would haunt you later at night. Those were your boys.

Perhaps that was why you were everyone's favourite nurse. You were getting attached to them so easily, treating everyone as a friend, offering them a loving hug when they needed it, listening to their stories, helping them to write letters to their mothers and girlfriends or children. You were a good spirit of the base and one of the planes was named after you. So far it still hadn’t gone down and everyone treated it as a sign that you were their guardian angel indeed.

You didn’t see yourself as a guardian angel. If you had to stay within the religious imagery examples, you’d rather describe yourself as a mater dolorosa – lady of sorrows watching her son’s suffering and not being able to help him.

Sometimes they would die in your arms. Still, it was better than to die in a burning plane. Better for them. Not for you.

Today was a day of a very difficult mission. Most of the planes hadn’t come back at all. And the ones who had, were full of men screaming in agony and pain. You were barely able to hold it all together when they were reaching their hands out for you as if your touch would heal them. But it wouldn’t. It couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted it.

“(Y/N), you should take a break…” Your friend put her hand on your shoulder. You were exhausted indeed. You were working for three hours straight without sitting down for one second and you were running around from one bed to another. “Go, rest,” she insisted but you shook your head and went back to work.

Only when you noticed that your hands were shaking so much that you weren’t able to inject a needle into a vein properly, you decided to take a break indeed. You didn’t want to cause even more damage by trying too hard.

But before leaving the sickbay you wanted to check on one of the young pilots. He was nineteen years old, it had been his first mission and you remembered how excited he had been about it. Now he was laying on one of the beds, barely breathing as his chest was burnt and lungs damaged.

You were approaching his bed and your heart sank to your chest at the sight of the doctor putting a white sheet over his face.

“Wh-what… What are you doing to Johnson, sir?” You asked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” the doctor shook his head. “He’s just passed away.”

You just stood there with your lips slightly parted. Johnson was just another surname on the list of all these boys you would never forget about. But Johnson was special. He was the youngest you had known. He couldn’t stop talking about his mother and little sister, about his dog and his girlfriend waiting for him back in Alabama.

Your sadness overtook your whole body and then it developed into an anger so big that you felt as if you were about to explode and bring down the whole base.

“Son of a bitch…” You breathed out angrily as you stormed out of the sickbay without even taking your apron off. It was full of blood but you did not care.

You walked down the corridor with murder in your eyes, making everyone step out of the way. And you entered the Colonel’s office without knocking, so loudly and rapidly that all the men inside startled.

“Miss?” Colonel Harding asked as he was sitting behind his desk and showing some sort of a map to a few Majors.

One of them was Major Cleven. He hadn’t been up in the air on that day but he would be tomorrow. And was the one you had befriended the most. But even his presence couldn’t stop your rage at that moment.

“You can’t just keep sending them to die, Colonel!” You clenched your fists and approached the desk as the men watched with big eyes. “Look! Look, Colonel! Look!” You showed him your bloody hands and your apron. “Why is it me with their blood and guts all over me? While you’re just sitting here, planning…” You gave the map a very angry look. You wanted to tear it apart and you were shaking to stop yourself from doing so. “You’re sending them to death, all of them, they’re just boys! Johnson was nineteen years old! Do you even know who he was? Or was he just another number to you?!”

“(Y/N), calm down, let’s take you outside…” Buck approached you carefully but you moved away.

“No! I will not be silenced. I have things to say and I will say them!” You snapped at him and he froze. You laid your eyes back on the surprised Colonel again. “You just sit here and plan how to send them to death more efficiently. You men… Can’t you see how stupid this whole war is? How stupid every war is? And just because some brilliant engineers constructed planes, doesn’t mean they should be used to kill people!”

“Miss…” Colonel furrowed his brow, “Miss I-Don’t-Know-Your-Name, are you done?”

“You son of a bitch!” You banged your bloody fists on his desk and his stupid map got covered with blood. “You don’t even know my name. But I am the one to patch them up and hold their hand when they’re dying after you sent them to death. God damn you, Colonel Harding! You and all the Generals that you serve! God damn Hitler, God damn Churchill and God damn your fucking President Roosevelt!”

“(Y/N), please,” Buck’s strong hands pulled you away. “I’m sorry, Colonel. She’s all shook up,” he tried to explain your behaviour as you started sobbing when the anger had finally left your body. You hid your face in his uniform and allowed him to put his arm around you. “I’ll take her outside.”

“Yeah, you better do it, son,” Colonel nodded at him. Buck started to walk you out slowly and carefully as you heard Colonel’s voice while you were walking out of the door. “Poor girl… She needs a free weekend.”

Buck took you outside and watched you worryingly as you were catching your breath back and trying to calm yourself down, wiping the tears off of your face with the palms of your bloody hands.

“Here, let me,” he took out a handkerchief and wiped your face with it gently. “Gee, (Y/N), what was that?”

“I… I don’t know… I just can’t… I can’t do it anymore, Buck… That boy, Johnson, he was nineteen… Nineteen, for God’s sake,” you sniffed your tears back and looked into his eyes as your lips trembled. “He was telling me stories about his mum and little sister… His dog and his girlfriend… And now… And now he’s gone. Just like that. His lungs were burnt. Every breath was agony…” You tried to explain, still shaking.

“You really need a free weekend,” Buck pointed out and brought you closer to give you another hug.

It felt good to be in his arms. It was comforting. But you were scared to admit to yourself that you indeed liked him more than just a friend. Because if he would go down tomorrow or any other day, it would hurt even more.

“I can’t… I can’t leave my boys…” You took a step back to look at his face again. “And… And I can’t just take a free weekend. It would feel wrong. When you boys are up in the air, so brave and so heroic. All I can do is patch you up later. I can’t give up, no…”

“We all need a break sometimes. Hey,” Buck raised your chin up with his finger, “promise me that you’ll take a free weekend.”

“Aren’t you on a mission this weekend?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then no way, Buck,” you shook your head. “I have to be here to patch you up,” you smiled through the tears.

“There are other nurses ‘round here,” he pointed out with a soft smile.

“I don’t want them to touch you,” you admitted suddenly as your cheeks heated up.

Why the hell had you said that…?

“They don’t know how to patch you up properly, I mean…” You tried to explain yourself quickly. “Only I know how to–”

But he didn’t let you finish. He leaned in very carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You were stunned.

“I know what you mean, sweetheart,” he teased after finally breaking the kiss and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I promise I won’t get a single scratch when you’re not around.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 1 - Side B

firestar art by @kudos-si-do

Propaganda below ⬇️

Kirei

He fucked up so many people's lives so badly in just one decade (not on purpose) that the universe put him in the summoning pool of all world influencing souls. He doesnt really have any special powers but he does serve as a vessel for rasputin at one point. He's the guy who says "people die when they are killed"

please please please there's literally a type moon character in the gif on the top of this form so it's typemoonphobic if none of them get in but it shouldn't be her it should be kirei bc he's 50x funnier & more iconic than jeanne. funny lil murder priest who's fucking THE gilgamesh (from the epic of) in the church basement and dies in a knife fight w a 17 year old whose dad he wanted to fuck back in '94 before realizing that he was actually kinda lame and he's been bitter abt it ever since. he has an orphan torture factory in his basement but he's also canonically good at being a priest. he's so funny you should def try his mapo tofu i swear it's totally safe for human consumption and not made with any california reapers. did i mention he's a deadbeat dad.

Priest claims to be Pro Life to make Sakura Matou the most miserable girl on the planet, but he dies anyway.

bro became a catholic because he loves suffering

He’s a priest. Kind of. Not a very good priest obviously. There is something seriously wrong and fucked up with that man. It’s so entertaining.

he's gotta be one of the most insane catholic men ever with a very in-depth and interesting relationship with his religion and his relationship with god also he's the sexiest man ever to be conceptualized in the known universe and all of time

Will never forget the 40+ minute monologue in heavens feel being a thinly veiled metaphor for abortion

he wants to torment churchgoers and make them face their failures and suffering but all he ends up doing is motivate them to improve themselves. cringefail moment for him

he's absolutely insane. the coldhearted mercenary that barely reacts to anything is terrified of kirei. he's super fucked up. his ult in stay night is literally him channeling divine power into something called kyrie eleison. he's the vessel of rasputin (on account of being a priest with a huge....no i shant say) the biblical beast in grand order among other things. he gets drunk with and tops gilgamesh from the epic of gilgamesh in the church basement after gilgamesh from the epic of gilgamesh bats his eyes a little too hard at kirei in some of the horniest shot scenes ive ever seen. he also used to be a heretical "fixer" for the church, cleaning up scenes that would expose shit to the public. uhh what else. he holds cool swords between his fingers like a kid pretending to be wolverine but in my favorite route he just squares the hell up with the protagonist and they fight to the death outside planned parenthood

Firestar

Kitty jesus, he believes in starclan which is the kitty version of heaven/god and yea. All the warrior cats characters except those outside the clans or those that are atheist believe in the kitty heaven and would irl be bri-ish and christian as hell so. The authors are all older british christian women and so the way starclan is written is like undoubtedly that.

The main religion in the series is extremely catholic coded. Most clan cats believe in Starclan and the Dark Forest(or heaven and hell). There is a set of rule they must uphold and follow, where following them leads to heaven and breaking them leads to hell. Their religious leaders are sworn to celibacy, and the punishments that "code breakers"(or cats who break the rules) face are extremely similar to situations people with religious trauma have gone through.

OP notes: apparently converted to avoid getting his balls cut?? Idk. The discord yet wild for firestar so I had to include him because it's hilarious hehehe

[frickinsleepdeprived]

Ride or Die Part 1

Sanemi x Fem! Reader - Motorcycle Club AU

Word Count: 9.4K

TW: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT - READ THE DAMN WARNINGS BEFORE READING P L E A S E: Mentions of violence ● school fights ● blood ● so much fucking blood ● domestic violence ● hospitals ● alcohol ● marijuana ● vaping/smoking ● reader being a stubborn bitch ● Sanemi being even more of a stubborn bitch ● so much fucking angst ● Sanemi has unpleasant memories of a lost loved one ● readers going through some shit-

CW: MINORS DNI - Reader has a wet dream and gets herself off in her sleep in Sanemi’s room (and Sanemi hopelessly watches, therefore by extension, voyeurism.)

A/N: HOLY FUCKING SHIT ITS ABOUT DAMN TIME- After promising this *checks calendar and cringes* New Years of this year and April of this year, I’m finally done with the first part of this multipart fic! No explicit smut in this part unfortunately, this is mostly about the opening dynamics between Sanemi and Reader. Smut, however, will definitely come in the next part hehehe- enjoy! I hope I didn’t disappoint with this lol

...

The moment she opened her eyes, she couldn't register anything. It was dark, darker than the abyss of her mind as her mind slowly manifested into consciousness. 

Though (Y/N)’s head was still foggy, she was able to figure out where she was. She was in a car, an SUV at that. Two women hunched over here trying to keep her bleeding at bay and her mind focused on something else. Her immediate thoughts were simple.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Hey, can you hear me? Are you awake?” One female voice called out, it sounds like she's crying, more than likely she was worried. Another female voice scolded the other.

“Are you blind?! Of course she's awake! She's just not able to comprehend anything right now, Suma. And if she is, it's a damn miracle.” The voice, deadpan and flat, was from another woman. “Besides, it's not like she's in any position to answer questions anyway.”

“No no, ask all the questions you can. Get as much information as possible, Makio. The more the better.” Another female voice called out from the front passenger seat. Her voice soothing and calm, one could only assume she had the patience of a saint. “Tengen, love, can you make this go any faster?”

“There's a problem with that, Hinatsuru. Last time I was speeding with Kyojuro in the back after he got in a fight with Seis Lunas, I got pulled over for doing forty over the speed limit. Like, yeah, the cop was cool and all, let me off with a warning. But still, not risking it.”

That name…

That fucking name.

“Wh-what?! What the hell?! Where am I?!” (Y/N) sat up immediately. That name, Seis Lunas, wasn't something to be taken lightly. That name was the very foundation of her pain. The catalyst for her suffering and the only reason why she's in the situation she's in now. “WHERE IS HE?! WHERE'S THAT FUCKING BASTARD?!” her mind turned to one thing; fight or flight. And it looks like she chose to fight. The two women in the backseat holding her down to the seat and trying to calm her down as best as they can.

“Makio do something!” Suma cried out, struggling to keep (Y/N) from not only injuring herself more, but from trying to keep herself and her sister-wife from getting punched in the face

“HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ANYTHING SUMA SHES FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!” Makio screamed, restraining both of the injured girl’s wrists and holding them down. (Y/N)’s tears making her feel a hint of remorse.

“Well try something!” Suma retorted, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt as she pressed hard on (Y/N)’s thigh, causing the poor woman to yelp in pain. “Aaaaaahhhh I’m sorry-!” 

Their bickering and arguing only caused (Y/N)’s state of mind to worsen. The tears streaming out of her eyes proved that she was not only trying to keep her screams of pain at bay, but she was also terrified- no, she was mortified.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!” The male shouted, both of the women quieting at a moment's notice. “Alright, here's what the fuck we're doing. Makio, Suma, keep the lady's bleeding stable. Hina, start asking questions, and you,” He pointed to (Y/N) in the backseat, his voice turning calm, yet still stern as ever. “Don't worry, everything is gonna be fine. We're taking you to a hospital.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. The last place she needed to be, of all places, was a damn hospital. “No, you don't get a say. No, you don't get to just fight us on this. This is happening, because it'll be hell or high water if we don't get you some help.” His tone was final, as if no one could argue with him.

Going to a hospital meant many things; healthcare, security, stability, and of course, a chance to get better in peace. But this? 

This would be anything but peaceful.

“No… no no no please-” (Y/N) protested softly. Sweat began to collect on her brow and her hands started to shake. Makio kept a hand on her forehead while Suma suppressed the bleeding.

“Whoa whoa, hey. It's okay, you're going to be fine. The doctors and nurses at Saint Tamayo are amazing, Hina would know, she works there. You've got nothing to worry about.” Makio tried to soothe her.

“No! You don't understand, if I go, he'll find me. He's got eyes everywhere, there's no way I can stay under the radar.” (Y/N) started to panic. She never went to hospitals for that reason. She was used to treating her wounds on her own, let alone fighting for her life.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Tengen commented.

“Sure?” Her head tilted to the side as (Y/N) gave him an unsure confirmation. 

“Does this have anything to do with Seis Lunas?” The albino man asked, his maroon eyes flashing in the rear view mirror at her. The mere name alone sent her into a state of panic, but it was a silent panic. The kind where one would freeze, then look away. The one where it would make someone unsure of what to say, but their body language and expressions said it all. “Hinatsuru-”

“I'm calling Windbreaker and Ouroboros right now.” Windbreaker? Ouroboros? If these people are who (Y/N) thinks it is, then she's in for a lot more than she bargained for. “Hey, we're stepping on the gas. Seems like this girl is involved with some sort of domestic situation with the Kizuki, and it doesn't look good either… yeah,” she looked to Tengen “Step on the fucking gas, we have to get there before the Kizuki do.”

“Where to?” Tengen replied, his voice unsure and worried. (Y/N) speaking up before Hinatsuru could.

“I told you guys once, and I'll say it again, if I go to a hospital, he will find me and I will be dead!” Her voice was hoarse, the pain becoming too much to bear. One more moment in this car and she'll more than likely die from stress alone than the actual blood loss. Hinatsuru gave her a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror. “I… I get you guys are trying to help and I get that it's important I get the proper medical care but I'm fine-”

“You are anything but fine! You’re going to a goddamn hospital and that is final!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, picking up speed and rushing towards Saint Tamayo hospital. “Do you know what kind of condition we found you in? You were covered in sweat and vomit, you went into shock. You're not fine and you're going to the hospital. And I swear to God if you try and back out of this again, I'll personally see to it that you're restrained to the fucking gurney once we get there. Got it?”

“That's unsettling!” (Y/N) shrieked, her voice strained with tears and horror. Makio sighed and held her close, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple, all platonic.

And that's when everything got faster, and everything turned dark.

…

A young albino man sped on his motorcycle on the highway. A determined, seemingly menacing look on his face as he rode alongside a fellow biker- a group of them, actually.

It was times like this when he was more focused than he was with his own day job. Going ninety on the highway when he knew the speed limit was sixty-five. He could easily get pulled over by one of those state troopers if he and his fellow riders aren’t careful. Yet, that doesn’t stop him, because this is personal for him.

Needless to say, he doesn’t like to hear about domestic violence. Not that he doesn’t care, because he does, deeply. But the thought of a woman being beaten by a man. He was raised better than that. 

And by God if he doesn’t do something about it now, it’ll be the end of his pride.

Skidding and drifting on the asphalt of the highway, he took an exit and slowed to a halt at the light. Finding the time to open his helmet shield and take a hit off of his vape. The strong, raspberry and pineapple scented smoke wafting in the chill of the fall night, causing him to sigh as he quickly put the cancerous device back into his pocket and closed his shield. Revving his engine, he sped off as the light turned green, making his way to Saint Tamayo with the rest of the group riding with him.

Maybe this time, he’d be able to save someone. Albeit it’s someone he doesn’t know, but at least it's a life saved… hopefully.

…

Her kicks and screams resounded at the entrance of the emergency room. Her fighting was rough, and unfair.

(Y/N) was a scrapper, a dirty one at that. Even through the blood loss and the injuries she had, she could still put up one hell of a fight despite seeing black. Not red, black.

“Dammit! You’re going to injure yourself more if you keep fighting!” Makio struggled to get her out of the SUV. Holding onto (Y/N)’s underarms as Hinatsuru and Suma took hold of her legs. Tengen’s hands gently restraining the injured woman’s wrists as they loaded her into a wheelchair.

Though, (Y/N)’s efforts proved to be vain and futile; becoming far too stressed. Nurses and doctors rushed out to see what was wrong, and upon seeing the state of her injuries, they had no choice but to take the poor soul in. (Y/N) kicked, punched, writhed and squirmed the entire time the hospital staff took her to the back. A group of motorcycles pulled up in the parking lot and walked briskly to the quartet waiting at the entrance of the emergency room.

“About damn time you showed up Windbreaker. Where the hell were you?” Tengen sighed deeply, running a hand through his silken white hair. Windbreaker took off his helmet, exposing his scarred face to the bitter chill of the night. His leather jacket is not doing much to shield him from the cold either. The rest of the riders took off their helmets as well, most of them male, but two of them female.

“Well, trafficks fucking horrendous. Not to mention, state troopers are everywhere tonight. I’m surprised that me and the rest of us didn’t get pulled over. But that's neither here nor there.” Windbreaker spoke casually, watching the taller albino and three ladies in front of him light a cigarette. “And you get onto me for vaping, hypocrite.”

“Hey, this is stressful, cut me and the ladies some damn slack.” Tengen sighed, taking a heavy drag and exhaling deeply. “How’d you even come across her anyways? Were you and Ouroboros just out riding around or something?”

“Man, we watched the poor girl crash.” A ravenette cut in, his short hair tied into a small ponytail at the dead middle of the back of his head and a mask concealing his nose and mouth. A pink haired cutie in a pair of denim short-shorts, a white crop top, a pair of riding boots, and a leather vest attached to his hip. “We don’t know where the black eye, bruised knuckles, and the cut on her thigh came from though. However, we’re thinking it’s some sort of domestic from what we all heard over the phone.” He spoke grimly, a cold and distant look in his eyes as he spoke of (Y/N), gripping his female companion tighter by the hip as he sighed.

“Well, the way she spoke of Seis Lunas earlier makes it seem like it is domestic. She was practically hollering and begging us to not take her here. Like, yeah, she acknowledged she needs the attention for her wounds, but she did mention something about how Sies will come around at some point, he’ll find her and kill her is what she said.” Makio chimed in, throwing her cigarette butt on the pavement and stomping it out. “Woman’s so stubborn that she started fighting us in the backseat, but she was too weak to get any real licks in.”

“Well, that comes as part of being involved with the Kizuki, I guess.” Windbreaker spoke with a snort, taking another drag from his vape as a few of the other riders went into the waiting room of the ER. “But regardless, the priority here is this chick and what the hell happened to her. I’m betting she has a concussion too, she wasn’t really smart with the way she was riding earlier. No helmet, no protective gear.”

“Maybe she was in a rush?” The pink haired girl spoke up, “I mean, if it's a domestic like we’re suspecting, then chances are she was just trying to get away from her aggressor quickly regardless of any implicated consequences.” The men nodded in agreement, they had to admit, despite her being a bit of a bubbly, happy-go-lucky girl, she’s got her wits about her. “Not to mention, no one would ride like that if it wasn’t serious.”

“That much is true… anyways, we should probably head in with the rest. I’m sure they’re getting the rundown on her injuries right now.” Windbreaker spoke up, watching the others put out their cigarettes and hide away their vapes. Some of them had flasks, making him shake his head in disapproval.

Maybe this time he can save the poor soul he found on the side of the road. But from the looks of it right now, (Y/N) won’t be recovering anytime soon.

After all, extensive injuries like that don’t just heal overnight.

…

About a week had passed and (Y/N) was, arguably, in worse shape than she was before. Eye still blue and black- slowly turning yellow, her scars stitched up and wrapped heavily. A few broken ribs and a concussion, but expected to make a full recovery. Still and unconscious in an ICU room, Windbreaker stood by her bedside, and not once did he want to leave. Doctor or nurse came in to check on (Y/N)? He was right in the corner watching silently. Anytime anyone else was in the room, he made sure he was there so that way nothing would go south- and god forbid anything happen, lest someone wanted to face the lilac eyed man’s wrath.

(Y/N), on the other hand, was oblivious to the man’s presence. When she came to, she gave him a look of confusion. “Wh- who?-” she was cut short by his quick interjection.

“Eh, just the guy that saved your life. You’re lucky I caught you in time, well, me and the others did.” The albino spoke softly, yet something in his voice sounded stern. “You’re also lucky you didn’t die.”

“Well excuse me macho, but I didn’t need saving.” (Y/N)’s curt response stirred a slight annoyance in him, though, he couldn’t help but be strangely amused at her sharp tongue and cold words. “If anything, he’s-” once again, (Y/N) was cut off.

“He’s gonna find you and he’s gonna kill you? Yeah, I heard that whole rant on the phone sweetcheeks.”

“...Sweetcheeks?” The disdain in her voice was palpable, dripping with scorn and offense, yet she couldn’t help but blush at the thought of being called such an endearing name. Yet she knew such sweet words could be laced with the most bitter of intentions. “I- I’m not sweet, dammit!”

“Well, maybe not sweet, but definitely helpless, at least for the moment.” He spoke candidly, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair by the woman’s bedside. “Your bikes totaled too, I’m not sure if it can be salvaged either.”

“Goddammit- okay, who are you? Name, please, I can’t be talking to strangers right now, my psyche can’t handle it.” (Y/N)’s voice sounded hoarse, likely from the screaming she was doing last night. The man sighed, running his hand through the mess of silver locks on his head, he was losing himself in his mind. Plagued with thoughts the last time something like this happened… the last time he couldn’t save someone like her.

“Name’s Windbreaker.” he spoke with finality, “I ride with the hashira, as if the patches on my vest weren’t a dead give away already. You crashed last night, like I said, your bikes totaled and more than likely scrap at this point. You’re extremely lucky to be alive, but you’re also kinda dumb for driving the way you were.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at his comments, scoffing slightly as she rubbed her sore eyes, wincing slightly when she touched them.

“Well, Windbreaker, when you’re trying to get away from an abusive ex like Seis Lunas, you don’t have a choice but to ride fast. Whether I ended up dead or alive is a different story.” The last of her strength was used to hoist herself up, but only to fail when she tried with all her might to use her upper body strength. Flopping back onto the mattress, her head hitting the pillow, letting out a defeated sigh as she looked over at him. She drank in the sight of him, her eyes narrowing in recognition, but she wouldn’t dare say anything about it, at least not yet. The real question is why the hell he looked so familiar. “Anyways, why did you decide to “save” my sorry ass?”

“Because I was raised better than the scum of the earth that decided to do this to you. Besides, why the hell would I just let you die anyways? That’s blatant negligence on my end.” He crossed his arms, sighing in exasperation. Did she really think she wasn’t worth saving, that she wasn’t worth anyone’s time? It only made him wonder how much Seis Lunas had broken her down and rebuilt her in his image. “Did I mention that you’re also quite the fighter?”

“Yeah, you kinda have to be in this cruel world.” (Y/N) sighed as she spoke, looking at the IV that’s lodged into her hand. “As soon as I get out of here, it's back into hiding.”

“Hiding? Where?” His eyebrows raised in intrigue, but his concern outweighed his curiosity, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “This town isn’t exactly big, you know.” He sighed softly, tilting his head.

“Wherever the hell is farthest from town. Might go two counties over if I’m honest.” She spoke with yet another resigned sigh. It was as if she was giving into whatever her circumstances threw at her. Which honestly, was quite sad in his eyes.

“Well, yeah, but… don’t you have a place to go? Family? Friends?” His voice grew solemn.

“Family lives out of state, as far as friends go, I have none of them. Seis asserted his “dominance” and drove all of them away. Now I’m just out of touch with all of them.” This… this hurt Windbreaker, hard. It was like someone put him in her place. At this rate, he hurt for her. 

He might just bleed for her.

…

Weeks followed, then about a month and a half. After (Y/N) had been discharged from the hospital and started physical therapy, he hadn’t heard anything from her since. With every passing night, the bitter chill seemed to get even colder as Windbreaker thought about her. He would stay up at night, haunted by the things she told him about Seis Lunas.

“Anyways, why did you decide to “save” my sorry ass?”

That one stung the most, if anything, it tore his heart in two. And though he probably shouldn’t be thinking about her, because she was only saved out of what he felt was obligation, he couldn’t help it. After all, a woman’s safety, to him, was probably the most precious thing he keeps close to himself. But a snap of someone’s fingers alerted his senses elsewhere. A certain masked ravenette staring down at him with cold eyes.

“You’re thinking about her again.” He spoke, his eyebrow raised as he stood in the doorway of the silverette’s room within the confines of the Hashira clubhouse. With a heavy sigh, Ouroboros leaned on the doorframe of Windbreaker's room. “Let her go, man, she likely doesn't want to see any of us again. I mean, unless you want to be a creep and go find her.”

“It's not being a creep if it's a welfare check. I know you'd do the same for L'Amour if she was in that girl's position.” Windbreaker sighed, sitting up shirtless from where he was laying on his bed. Picking up a black muscle shirt and slipping it on. “Where are we meeting for church?”

“Dive bar downtown, it's usually pretty empty on Sundays so everything we're gonna talk about should be safe and sound.” The ravenette took his hair down to re-tie it. “And after all is said and done, I'm getting L'Amour to cut my hair.” Ouroboros sighed and crossed his arms, one gold eye and the other blue looking at Windbreakers lilac ones. “If you happen to come across that girl, though, offer the clubhouse to her or something. I'm sure Mariposa wouldn't mind feeding her or anything.”

“She likely needs it, god knows where she is now.” The silverette rubbed the sleep from his eyes, putting on a pair of riding pants. “Matter of fact, I think I might go out now. Do a scan throughout town and see if I can find her.”

“You're really hellbent over this, aren't you? Isn't this what happened with-” Ouroboros was cut off by Windbreakers cold stare. “Nevermind… anyways, church is at seven at the dive bar downtown, don't be late.'' With that, Ouroboros walked out. Not a care in the ravenettes eyes as his footsteps thundered on the carpeted floor of the clubhouse. Windbreaker sighed deeply, setting out to ride around town for the girl he saved a few weeks back.

But he came up empty.

…

Stepping into the establishment, clad in a pair of dark jeans and an equally dark shirt with a pair of sunglasses, (Y/N) hoped no one would recognize her.

Many clubs, including the Kizuki and the Hashira, come to this particular bar for church. (Y/N) has always been to these meetings, but never allowed a chance to voice anything thanks to the Kizuki being a one-percenter club. Always left in the background, or attached to Seis Lunas’ hip with a drink in hand. (Y/N)’s car keys attached to one of her belt loops as she sat on a stool at the bar counter. The doctor told her not to drink, but it was her only hope at forgetting that horrible and damn near fatal night.

Part of her, however, winced as the bartender poured the amber brown, poisonous liquid into a glass with whiskey stones. Yet the other part was screaming “DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK-” As the young woman brought the class to her lips, a bitter euphoria overwhelmed her senses. The grainy, caramel scent comforted her mind as she downed the whole glass in one singular swig, not a damn given about the consequences. Over in the left of her peripheral vision stood the hashira motorcycle club. Perhaps they were having church, or maybe they all decided to get out of the clubhouse for an evening. Either way, (Y/N) kept her head low, making sure it wasn’t obvious that she may or may not be eavesdropping, even if it were a breach of privacy.

“Come on man, get over her. She’s likely out of the hospital and doing better. Besides, she’s probably far out of town anyways.” Tengen patted Windbreaker on the back, passing him a pint of whatever draft beer was in the glass. The silverette shook his head and pushed the glass away. “Still don’t drink? Man, you’re twenty-one goddamn years old! Live a little!”

“You know me, I don’t drink, and I won’t drink until Genya’s out of high school.” Windbreaker sighed, his silver hair unruly and a mess from the ride around town. Though, Tengen did have a point; he’s a grown man, what’s stopping him from drinking? Besides, his younger brother is old enough to take care of himself. But then he remembered what his brother had been through, and that was enough to make the lilac eyed man turn down alcohol, regardless of the occasion.

It was like that for three hours; three hours of Windbreaker turning down drinks and of (Y/N) actively avoiding the temptation to turn her gaze to the group of bikers. Of course, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she had been sipping on her third drink for a while now, lost deep in thought of where to go from here, until she got a call. “Hello? Yes, this is her… I’m sorry? Ah, I see, I’m on my way.” Stepping down from the barstool, (Y/N) quickly makes her way out of the bar, her movements quick and fluid- amid the pain of her injuries. It seems like someone was following her out, yet she paid no mind. Slipping into her car, she speeds off towards Kimetsu High, where she’s supposed to pick up two troublemakers that got into a fight. Of course she had to be the one the school called, Jim Jones was too neglectful to even do anything. Reyes was too busy- as was Seis Lunas. Spinjutsu, well, Spinjutsu just doesn’t want anything to do with that. So it’s up to (Y/N) to make sure the bullshit gets settled.

Only God knows what kind of trouble they’ve caused this time.

…

“I’m sorry you did what?!” The two kids in front of her; a girl with long platinum, green tipped hair and caked makeup and a boy with a scrawny, lean build, rolled their eyes and sighed deeply. “How many damn times do I have to tell you guys?! Stop. Getting. Into. Fights! You will be suspended or expelled, or at worst, arrested!” (Y/N) groaned at the thought, rubbing her sore eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh. “Where are the kids you beat up? And don’t tell me they’re in the nurse's office.” The girl had a guilty look on her face. “Isis, what the fuck did you guys do?”

“Well, we had to teach them a lesson somehow.” The boy spoke up, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair, as if all of this was just normal. “And hell yeah, they’re in the nurse's office, and I bet that those hashira bastards are on their way to come pick them up now.” He had an almost proud look on his face, as did his female companion. The two siblings had always found a way to get themselves into trouble, whether it be minor or major things. They’ve always been troublemakers, even before (Y/N) came around.

A distinct voice came in through the door of the front office; male, gruff, and definitely pissed off. (Y/N) looked up from the two to face who it was, lo and behold it was Windbreaker. “Yes, I’m Genya Shinazugawa’s older brother. Now where is he?” He was practically interrogating the front desk clerk, who basically had no answers to his questions, and that only pissed him off more.

“The nurses office. I’m talking with the assailants right now, actually. Also, nice to see you again, I guess.” (Y/N) spoke up, her voice tired and frustrated, just like his. Windbreaker looked up at her, making a beeline in her direction. The look of rage in his eyes was palpable, but she knew it wasn’t for her. “Look, I know that this is unexpected, but I’ve got this.”

“Oh no, no no no. Your siblings or whatever the hell those two are, they’re gonna pay. They’re gonna pay double. Because no one, and I mean no one lays a damn finger on my brother.” He spoke sternly. “And by God if I have anything to say about it, I’d say lock those two the hell up if they’re not going to alternative school.” (Y/N) sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. This situation, on top of her injuries and meeting Windbreaker in unforeseen circumstances, was too much.

“I… I understand that. Believe me, if they were my blood siblings, I’d definitely make a decision on their behalf. But unfortunately, I’m not, so there’s very little that I could do legally. Rest assured though, I have all of this under control.” She winced at the pain in her black eye, a headache looming in her skull. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the principal and see what the hell those two will be going through as far as a punishment goes.” (Y/N) stepped into the principal’s office, shutting the door behind her and leaving the silverette out in the lobby. 

The conversation didn’t last long, it was only a matter of time before (Y/N) learned that the two siblings wouldn’t be receiving a punishment at all, considering this was the first incident of the year. With a frustrated sigh, she snapped her fingers at the two siblings and motioned for them to follow her. But before she left, she passed Windbreaker a piece of paper. “If these two assholes cause you any other issues, call me.”

Windbreaker stared at the piece of paper and sighed deeply, nodding solemnly. “Will do, thanks.” He looked down at the contact information. “(Y/N) (L/N): (***) ***-****”

He would make sure to remember this.

…

It had been a while since that encounter, (Y/N) would receive calls here and there from Windbreaker, who’s contact name came up as “Sanemi”. She had assumed that was his real name, as if the name “Windbreaker” wasn’t enough evidence to it being an alias. “Look, all I’m saying is that Isis and Osiris are just… troubled. But that’s still no excuse for what they’ve done. And what's more, I’m not even their legal guardian, Jim Jones is.” Sanemi, on the other end, let out a scoff.

“Well, that explains a lot. He just lets those kids just run around and do whatever?” he asked, scrunching his face up in confusion. “Moreover, why the hell does Jim Jones of all people have custody of two teens anyways? That guy’s an internet cult leader and everyone knows it.”

“Alleged cult leader, but I have my suspicions also. No one really knows how he got custody of those two in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there right now. Where are you anyways? I hear something in the background.” (Y/N) spoke up, which caught Sanemi off guard, why is she so interested in him all of a sudden?

“Oh, uh, I’m at the hashira clubhouse. One of the members wanted me to offer it to you at the hospital once you got out. But you kinda went off the grid for a while afterwards, so I never got the chance. Where are you though? You sound like you’re outside or something.” He asked softly, concern lacing his voice despite not knowing her well enough to truly have the right to be truly worried.

“... weeeeellllllllll-” her voice trailed off, awkward and nervous before she was cut off by the silverette.

“Location, now.” He demanded, his voice stern and cold.

“And if I don’t?” (Y/N) scoffed, not taking him seriously.

“I’ll scour this entire town looking for you.” Sanemi concluded.

“I’d love to see you try.” She spoke confidently, as if challenging him to even try to get near her. She hung up, and just to humor him, gave him her location. There's no way he’d actually show up, right? “Not to mention, that's an awfully mighty claim for someone that barely knows me. What makes you think I’d go to someone else’s house when I barely know them?” Sanemi scoffed on the other end of the phone. 

“Well, for one, rude. Two, I don’t have a house, at least not yet, working on that.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now, will you please drop your damn location so I don’t have a heart attack?” (Y/N) groaned softly at that… something about that noise roused something within Sanemi. It was wrong, so devastatingly wrong, he barely knows her. Why is he feeling so warm inside at the prospect of bringing her back with him?

“What has you so concerned, Sanemi? You only brought me to the hospital once, besides, it’s not like we’re dating. Unless I need to clarify that for you?” The woman’s tone was annoyed, and definitely not the warmest. “Look, I appreciate your concern and interest in me, that is if there’s any sort of interest or concern in the first place, but I’m okay-”

“You’re not fine, you hear me?! You’re still injured, you’re still being hunted by the Kizuki!” Sanemi snapped, sighing deeply as he threw on some sweatpants and a shirt. “Look, I’m not gonna let you be out there alone. So do me a favor, drop me your location so I can at least get you somewhere safer. You don’t have to come anywhere with me if you don’t want to. I get that I don’t know you very well and that's fine, but at least let me make sure you’re okay. Please?” There was something about his voice… it was desperate, that much (Y/N) could tell. But there was a hint of something else.

Was… was that longing she heard?

“I- you know what, fine. But don’t expect anything to come of this, because that’d be entirely by coincidence.” She sent him her precise location, which was a park on the other side of town.

“Are… are you fucking kidding me- That's it. Stay put, stay on the phone, I’m on my way. If one of those Kizuki fucks comes around then start running towards downtown, got it?” His voice was stern, a little too stern. It made (Y/N) roll her eyes again, but hearing him so riled up opened up her mind to other things also. She knew they were wrong, but dammit if it wasn't enticing.

“Sanemi I-” Her protests were in vain as Sanemi’s voice cut through.

“Got it?” The sound of a door slamming and a car starting made (Y/N)’s heart drop. His voice was demanding- almost too demanding as she heard his car speeding out of a parking lot. Of course there was no convincing this man otherwise, he’s far too stubborn, far too set in his ways to listen to anyone else’s opinion.

“... Alright, just uh, get here quick, I guess.” Her voice was unsure, but her mind was already seemingly made up, not by her own choice of course. With the way Sanemi spoke to her, it’s almost as if he cares. It’s eerily similar to the way Seis Lunas would talk to her, but this is different somehow. It has no malicious intention, at least she hopes it wouldn’t. He’s definitely hard to read, well, that's a lie. His intentions are obvious- painfully obvious. But (Y/N) just can’t shake the feeling of an ulterior motive, especially after everything Seis Lunas put her through; the rat bastard broke her, that much was evident. With a heavy sigh, she sits on a curb and sparks a blunt, inhaling on the Lord’s lettuce and exhaling in the same manner it went in- deep, sharp, and heavenly. The sangria flavored cigarillo wrap made it a little easier to smoke, though she had it in the back of her mind that she probably should’ve gotten a real tobacco leaf to smoke out of; but that's neither here nor there right now. 

As she awaited the hot tempered silverette’s arrival, she contemplated her next move. Would she stay in town? Would she leave and never come back? Where would she go, knowing that her family is far away and friends were out of touch because of her association with the Kizuki, even if it is now former? (Y/N)’s mind raced, her heart heavy as the stress became too much to bear. The heartstrings were pulling, the tears pooled in her eyes- which she quickly wiped away. Reminding herself that she's a grown woman and capable of handling herself. She didn’t need a man, despite how she had to accustom herself to the lifestyle synonymous to that of a housewife. A degrading thought, really, because she never figured she’d find herself at the mercy of someone who is pretty much a stranger, and a member of a rival motorcycle club to boot. “How could I have let myself fall so hard from where I was?” was her immediate thought. Though even her thoughts didn’t quench the sweltering fire that were the burning questions of her uncertain future.

Sanemi, on the other hand, was occupied with other thoughts. Why was (Y/N) out in a park on the other side of town at one o’clock in the morning? What happened to the beat up pontiac grand prix she owned; the one that had a missing front bumper and chipped dark blue paint? Whatever happened the night she was taken to the hospital by Tengen and his wives? He remembered her mentioning something about Seis Lunas being her ex, but that was the extent of it. But the mention of Seis Lunas raised even more questions in his mind. Why was (Y/N) even affiliated with the brutal one-percenter club in the first place? How did she come to meet Seis Lunas? Why was she Osiris and Isis’ emergency contact at the very same school that Genya, along with other Hashira prospects, go to?

As both of their minds were caught up in a slew of questions and thoughts, Sanemi had reached her location faster than he had anticipated. He hung up the call and got out of the black sedan he drives, looking around and spotting (Y/N) almost immediately. Her condition seemingly improved; the black eye was nearly gone and she didn’t look as lethargic as before. Though, there was no mistaking the fatigue in her body language as he stepped closer and closer to her. His movements slow, cautious, and weary as if he were moving towards an injured dog. “Hey…” those were his immediate words. She looked up at him, an involuntary breath of relief escaping her lungs as she took another hit off of the blunt. He sat beside her on the curb, lighting his own cigarette and taking a drag. “You alright?” She looked over at him, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay, but to no avail, seeing as how they just couldn’t stop falling.

“Depends on what your definition of “okay” is.” (Y/N) spoke softly, her sigh heavy and tired as she took another hit from the blunt. “Car broke down, and I've been walking ever since. Just kinda left it there, it was a piece of shit anyways. Payments were overdue, tags were no good and it had no insurance. If  anything if I was caught riding around in it I’d get arrested, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise or something.” Was she ranting now? She’s never done that before, especially not in front of Sanemi. Like, yeah, they’ve had their fair share of long talks over the phone, but never about personal struggles. She was far too prideful to want to admit she needed help, so why do so now? Sanemi sighed and nodded in acknowledgement, taking another drag off of his cigarette and running a hand through his hair.

“I getcha, it's hard to figure out your priorities, especially in a situation like yours. Hell, maybe it really was a blessing in disguise, considering the Kizuki would know what your car looks like. I’d have definitely ditched the car if it meant your safety.” He took another drag from his cigarette and looked at her. “But I guess you’re not really one to worry about things like that huh?” (Y/N) looked his way with a sneer.

“Really? You’re seriously asking me that? My bike is totaled, my car is gone, all of my shit is at the Kizuki hideout. I doubt Seis Lunas would give it back to me anyways, hell, he probably already burned most of my clothes and broke a lot of my valuables.” She shook her head and took another heavy drag from the blunt. “I don’t even think he wants to see me anyways.” Tears filled her eyes, but she was quick to blink them away. Though this didn’t escape Sanemi, seeing the tears in her eyes broke his own heart. He knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t feel something for her, but he couldn’t help it.

What’s more, (Y/N) feels something for him also, and it’s definitely not what she’s supposed to be feeling. It’s not contempt she feels, but pure and utter infatuation for someone who’s basically a stranger. They barely know each other, hell, they don’t even know the most basic information about one another. They don’t know each other's hopes, dreams, aspirations- not even what the other person’s favorite food is. Why the hell are they so hellbent on feeling this way? This isn’t supposed to be happening, this shouldn’t be happening. But (Y/N) knew that maybe it was just the overwhelming wave of emotions clouding her judgment; that it was simply the blunt she was smoking that was altering her state of mind. But weed doesn’t affect her like that, at least not when it comes to her self control. Sanemi could smell the whiskey on her breath, the weed in her blunt, the pure and utter despair she was experiencing.

He had enough of this, enough of watching her suffer. Without even thinking, he put out his cigarette and took her hand, gently guiding her up into a standing position and to his car. What the hell was he doing, taking a stranger into his car and offering help when he knew she’d probably deny it in the first place? What about (Y/N) was so enticing to him that he just had to do this? “Your hands are freezing, what the hell are you doing out here without the proper clothes? This thin hoodie of yours isn’t going to keep you warm.” He spoke sternly as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders, damning the consequences of his own actions in his mind. “At this rate, you’ll catch pneumonia if you’re not careful.”

“Then let me get sick.” (Y/N) spat, a defiant huff escaping her lungs as she sniffled from the bitter chill of the otherwise clear night. Her breath came out in the form of white mist, visible in the blue-violet glow of the street lamps. “Why do you care so much about me? You’re a stranger! Why do you want to help me when you know I’m bound to suffer anyway?” Once again, Sanemi’s heart shattered, feeling his heartstrings pull as he wrapped her up in his arms, trying his hardest to keep her warm. “S-stop, just… don’t, please.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears; gone were the worries of her well being. Sanemi would make sure she was safe, no matter what it took. If the other hashiras didn’t agree, or even if the Kizuki went after him, he didn’t care. “Sanemi enough-”

“Stop. Stop talking, just shut up.” He looked her in the eyes, nothing but care and tenderness within his lilac gaze. “Do you not realize how fucked up your situation is, (Y/N)?” Sanemi spoke softly, wiping errant tears from her cold cheeks. Her skin felt like ice under his calloused, warm hands. “I met someone like you before, she… she meant the world to me, but… that's a story for another time. For now, let's just get your shit from the Kizuki. You’re not staying outside tonight, or any other night for that matter. Alright?” Her eyes narrowed, what the hell was he talking about?

“Who is this we? If you step foot near the Kizuki they’re going to kill you. I’ve seen it happen before, they don’t care who comes around, friend or not. If they don’t want you there, they’re going to hurt you.” Why was she even giving him this warning in the first place? It’s not like she cared about what happened to him or anything, he's a hashira. She’s supposed to hate him, to want nothing to do with him, to loathe him with her entire being because she was supposed to want nothing to do with him. But his touch felt warm, so comforting and so warm that she couldn’t help but lean into his scarred hands that rested on the skin of her face. His gaze was kind and caring, making a foreign feeling swell in her heart and bubble in her gut. It was never supposed to be this way. Sanemi shook his head slowly, a soft sigh escaping him as he thought about the girl in front of him now,  how she’s so eerily similar to the one he knew as Flora, at least, that's what her road name was. “Sanemi answer me!” (Y/N)’s voice brought him back to reality, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. She’s stubborn, but so was he, and he was determined to help her regardless of whatever protest he gave.

“The “we” is us, (Y/N). I’m not letting you face your ex alone. Not after what he did to you.” Sanemi’s hands ran through her hair, his touch gentle, a far cry from his usually harsh demeanor. “You were put into the ICU for weeks, doll. Who’s to say Seis wouldn’t do it again? If anything, the backup from me should be enough, and if it’s not, you’ve got a whole slew of people ready to back you up at a moment's notice.” Doll… (Y/N)’s never been called that before. “I’ll be goddamned if something like that happens to you again. I… I can’t stand to see you like that again, or like the mess you are right now. So for the love of Christ, stop being so fucking stubborn and just let me help you.” He’s conflicted now, he’s not supposed to be pining over her like this, yet, here he is. Fawning over a woman he barely knows and she’s obviously not having it- or so he thinks.

“Sanemi be honest with me are you just looking for a fuck?” (Y/N) spoke softly, her gaze meeting his in an almost intimidating manner. Her vulnerability causes her to feel weak, and that's the last thing she wants right now. After all, being weak is what almost got her killed in the first place.

“You honestly think I’m that shallow?” Sanemi scoffed, sounding almost offended as he opened his passenger side door as it started to snow. Getting in on the passenger side, he slipped the key into the ignition and started the car. “But if you really need to know, no, I’m not looking for a fuck. That's the last thing I’d look for, especially in someone who’s in a situation like yours. You’re still recovering from your injuries, don’t act like I didn’t see you limping.” He put the car in drive and headed further into town, towards the area of the Kizuki hideout. (Y/N) felt her heart drop at the thought of it, knowing that she’d have to go in there and get her stuff, even if it was just the bare minimum of her clothes. She quickly hopped on the phone and made a call.

“Do you honestly think it’s a good idea to make a call?” Sanemi questioned, raising a curious eyebrow, but his eyes gave away concern. (Y/N) looked at him with a deadpan expression, a deep sigh escaping her as she rolled her eyes.

“Would you rather die? Because that’s what's gonna happen to the both of us if I don’t call ahead of time. It’s for both of our sakes.” She redirected her attention to the conversation on the phone. “Hey, you burn my shit or is it still in your room?.. Excuse me? Donated? I mean, did you at least keep my underwear and stuff?.. You’re fucking kidding me- alright, fine… yeah, yeah, whatever… don’t get smart with me, dipshit… hey, last time I checked, I wasn’t the one that swung first, and I certainly wasn’t the one that left a gash in my leg- shut your goddamn trap, Seis- you know what, fuck you.” Sanemi’s eyes widened at her harsh language, watching her not only hang up, but completely turn off her phone also startled him as well. He let out a low whistle, cringing at the mere thought of what was said on the other line, that is, until (Y/N) spoke up again. “Just take me to the next town over, I’ll manage.”

“No.” It was an immediate response from him, as if it were easy for him to say such a thing. As if (Y/N) meant something to him, and deep down, he knew it was just utterly and horribly wrong. “I can't let you go off the grid, not after what you said to the vice president of the Kizuki. If you're with the hashira, it'll be like having bodyguards-” He was cut off yet again by her protests.

“I don't need bodyguards, Sanemi! I just need time! Time away from this godforsaken, dusty old town where there is nothing for me here!” Sanemi slammed his hand on the steering wheel, a frustrated groan ripping from his throat, pulling over on a deserted road and putting the car in park.

“Goddammit (Y/N) what the hell do you not get?! Going off the grid isn't doing you any favors! It's just a show of cowardice! That you're letting Seis, your fucking ex boyfriend win! If you go, he wins, you understand me?!” His voice raised, but never harsh, Sanemi tried his hardest to make his point known. There was a beat of silence as Sanemi collected himself. Clearing his throat with a sigh, he spoke up again. “I will not sit here and watch you destroy yourself. You know I had to pose as your boyfriend for them to give me visitation rights? You know that I made sure you were getting the proper medicine in that hospital? You may not think I care but the reality is that I do! I WON'T JUST FUCKING STAND BY AND WATCH YOU SUFFER ALONE!-” He was cut off yet again by one of (Y/N)’s frustrated groans.

“Just take me to wherever we're going then, since you won't give me a choice!” (Y/N) snapped, her arms crossed as defiant, solemn tears ran down her face. Her shivering form igniting a fire within Sanemi, making him swear a silent vow to himself.

He would keep her safe, no matter what.

Without another word, he started the car once more, and sped off to the hashira clubhouse. Blasting the speakers with rock and rap. Not a word exchanged as they drove fast and dangerous.

…

As she sleeps in Sanemi’s room, his eyes lock with Ouroboros’. “You… you actually brought her back?” The shorter man spoke incredulously, hitting his vape like it was the one thing keeping him grounded to reality. Sanemi sighed, his clothes snow-soaked and eyes tired. “Man, you're either insane, or you just lucked out.”

Sanemi scoffed, addressing his jet black haired companion by his government name. “She fell asleep in the car, Obanai. She was exhausted, god knows the last time she even slept properly.” A sigh escaped the silverette, tired and anxious, he took a hit from his own vape. “I don't even know when the last time she ate was. I mean, look at her, she's practically skin and bones.”

“Skin and bones is an exaggeration, Sanemi. She's not emaciated, she's just underweight. I'll see if we have anything, but try to fill her up with fluids for now.” Obanai deadpanned, earning himself a glare from his lilac eyed friend.

“Fluids? Really? We'll start her off small, see where it goes. If anything we can always have Mariposa or Hinasturu make sure she's okay.” Sanemi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Obanai snorted with contempt.

“Does she even have the basics? Clothes? A place of her own? Hell, does she even have a job?” The ravenette looked at (Y/N) with a scrutinizing, appraising stare, hitting his vape once more as Sanemi shot him another cold glare.

“She's working on it, dude, don't push it so hard. The more you do the more pissed off she's gonna get.” The silverette whispered to his companion. Of course she was working on it, or at least, he hoped she was working on it.

“She's asleep, she's not going to hear us-” Obanai was cut off by a female voice, one that resounded from behind them, not from the bed where (Y/N) laid asleep.

“Can a girl get any sleep around here without having to listen to yalls bitching and arguing?” They looked behind them, finding a pink ane green haired, pale skinned, green eyed girl. One who looked like she had just woken up- and was clearly irritated. “It's two in the morning, get some goddamn sleep. And you,” she pointed to Obanai, “why are you still awake? I thought you said you'd come to bed an hour ago?” Her voice turned soft, and so did Obanai's gaze. The ravenette wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I'll be in bed soon, love, just go back to sleep. I'll be there in a moment, okay?” His whispers soothed the pinkette, who nodded softly and went back to her own room with tentative, quiet steps. Sanemi scoffed with a smirk, taking another hit from his vape.

“You might wanna do that now before your wife gets pissed again.” Obanai casted him a sharp look, heterochromic eyes meeting Sanemi’s lilac ones.

“She's not my wife.” Obanai spat.

“Well, you guys certainly act like a married couple, just saying.” Sanemi snickered, earning a groan from the jet black haired man. “But anyways, go sleep with Mitsuri. I got this from here.” With that, Obanai simply nodded and walked back to his own room to be with his lover. Sanemi looked at (Y/N), who was still sleeping, walking over to her and laying next to her. “I… I hope you're okay.” He whispered softly, memories of the former flower hashira enraptured his mind, flooding his heart with waves of melancholy and bitterness.

But this time it would be different, this time it would be-

“H-hah…” the soft gasp cuts through the air like a cleaver. Sanemi hoped it came from the other room where Obanai and Mitsuri resided. Or maybe that insufferable long haired ravenette's room- Giyuu's room, where he stayed with Shinobu. “Ah…!” Yeah, nope, that's coming from his room. Right where the wounded woman laid in his bed asleep, the slight shuffling of her body under the covers indicated some sort of dream. Whether it was a nightmare or otherwise, Sanemi couldn't tell. However, (Y/N)’s blissed out expression gave evidence to all signs pointing to anything but a nightmare.

He knew better than to disturb her, taking the cold, carpeted floor where concrete resided underneath. Using a bunched up hoodie as a pillow, he knew he had to get some sleep. Yet all he heard was the sounds of her voice; breathless and wanton as she gave into the bidding of her dreams. Her gasps and moans, hitched and hushed, as she gave into the pleasure of her subconscious mind. He knew it was dirty, he knew it was wrong to just sit there and watch her please herself; yet despite himself, his reservations, he couldn't help but to sit and listen.

Soon enough, the cold hard floor of the room proved to be useless in aiding Sanemi's battle against insomnia. Although it was against his better judgment, he gently scooped (Y/N)’s body up, and laid beside her in bed. Gently pulling the sheets over the both of them, he allows the siren call of sleep to consume him.

...

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Tag list: @giyuuzas @peachdues @bnuuybee-writes @mitsuristoleme

[the-bloody-sadist]

in case no one else has asked, please list your top 10 BL manga/manwha? 👀

i am. very interested in what other media you enjoy, especially BL

Combining these two bc I didn't wanna leave the second out!

(I wasn't a big fan of Blood Bank personally but I'm so glad it helped you with your world building Lil Whale!!)

I'm hoping some of these are unheard of for you guys because THERE ARE SO MANY BL/YAOI AND I READ THEM CONSTANTLY BUT NOT SO MANY ARE FANTASTIC AND MIND-BLOWING AND SPECTACULAR AND DEEPLY PSYCHOLOGICAL! I'm pretty sure I'll end up listing WAY more than 10, mainly because I want to highlight ones I feel like a lot of people haven't read. ALSO because I read so fucking many of them that I've collected a stash and NOW IS MY CHANCE TO YELL ABOUT THEM.

Just a disclaimer, these are not in any sort of order, as they're all about the same level in my head, just grouped. I'll list the "big name" BLs that I adore after these! First up are the ones that either have a quiet fandom or aren't well known! Since there'll be so many, I'm not going to say much about them, just know that usually no BL/Yaoi is perfect to me, since there are many bad psychology tropes here and there or unnecessary cruelties that aren't exactly realistic etc., but overall, I like the way that the story and characters are handled and/or love the art.

Here's the top five of my top ten that's not a top ten bc there are so many (I just said I wouldn't group them but I lied my ass off apparently):

Jealousy [Scarlet Beriko]: This is one of those that emotionally hits so hard that it will stick with me forever and I will usually tear up just a tiny bit when I think back to the moments that made this one so beautiful. A lot of times a story with major hurt, angst, and tragedy won't wrap up with enough to make me scream and cheer at the end. But THIS ONE DID. And I stopped reading for a while when a big event happened because I thought it would end horribly and I'd have to suffer three weeks of fiction-induced depression for a man who wasn't even real. BUT NAY. The themes you get in this one revolve around loneliness (huge draw for me, it always hits), mafia-connected characters and the rivalries from that, self-destructive prostitution, and characters who have difficulty receiving love without freaking out. Are those even themes idk. OH WELL. YOU GET THE POINT. I want this one on my shelf. You might've heard of it, but the fandom is silent so I never did. T_T OH ALSO THE ART ON THIS ONE IS GORGEOUS I FUCKING LOVE IT.

Hitori to Hitori no 3650nichi [Hitomi]: First of all, favorite manga artist. FAVORITE MANGA ARTIST. I'm never exactly sure if the artist is also the writer or if the writer is never the artist or...BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. Anyway! I listed this particular title because it was the first that I found by this person - but then I discovered it was a part of a bigger series, and there are like I DON'T KNOW FIVE DIFFERENT MANGA?? OR SOMETHING??? Related to this one. I don't know which order, I just know that I read them all in a frenzy. THE CHARACTERS. OH! OH THE CHARACTERS! Oh my gods, it's so good. LMFAO. The arcs these characters have are fantastic, and I loved the fact that the abuser in one is shown to be the victim of abuse in a prequel story, and that his anger issues and other elements of his personality came about to affect him and destroy him. Just...I don't recall the details, READ IT. That's all. Spectacular depictions of nuanced trauma within abusive relationships.

The Beast Must Die [Lee Hyeon Sook]: This remains one of my favorite depictions IN ANY MEDIA of a psychopath, because it's SO accurate and I'm SO fucking proud of the author for doing their research and OH MY GODS YOU GUYS IT'S ABOUT TO GET A DRAMA CD LET'S FUCKING GO! This story is so good. It's so evil. It's so psycho-thriller. It's so WELL DONE. It features a dark academia-ish secret society within a college setting who hunt people for sport, sometimes. LIKE. Come on. And the psychopath (dark hair) IS THE MAIN LOVE INTEREST! You could literally hear the summary and go "oh this is for Sadist". And I don't get a lot of those that deliver this well. SOMETIMES the art makes me twist my head a little but YOU KNOW WHAT I DO NOT CARE OKAY? It's just SO good. There's murder, there's kidnapping, and - most importantly - a main character who doesn't just DEAL with whatever the psychopath does. He's smart, he fights back, he learns to understand psychopathy to determine if he should remain with the love interest...it's fantastic. That's all. I will stop. *BANGS THE WALL*

Aporia [Seontae]: ALL HAIL THE HEALTHY BDSM RELATIONSHIPS THAT STILL HOLD TENSION AND EMOTIONAL WEIGHT AND SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!! This is my favorite BDSM-themed story. Everything is consensual, but is everything safe??? Not when it comes to the main character's emotions and tendency to sacrifice his wellbeing for a partner. BUT NOT TO WORRY, HIS SADISTIC LOVE INTEREST IS CONSIDERATE AND ATTENTIVE AND CARES ABOUT HIS FEELINGS!! This is, perhaps, one of my favorite depictions of a REAL sadist. A real one as in a realistic, irl BDSM-relationship sadist. Someone who is just as worried about taking care of his partner as he is about hurting him JUUUUST right. ANYWAY! THAT'S ALL! READ IT! HE'S LITERALLY ME!

Royal Servant [MasterGin, Chungnyun]: Okay, we were talking about healthy BDSM in the previous one, now let's talk about TOXIC BDSM-THEMES THAT I LOVE. Lmao. DO YOU LIKE MASTER/SLAVE DYNAMICS? DO YOU LIKE STORIES WHERE THE ARC LEADS TO THE ABUSIVE MASTER EVENTUALLY LEARNING TO NOT BE ABUSIVE AND LOVE THE SLAVE? YEAH ME TOO. I DON'T NEED TO DESCRIBE THIS ANY FURTHER. AUTHOR OF ANGEL BUDDY, THIS IS THE ONE THAT I KNEW HER FOR FIRST.

A bunch of other good ones you may or may not have heard of (I won't describe every one of these unless I have something particular to say, so enjoy the pictures from them that I snatched):

Love me in the Wilderness [Wang Tao]

Neon Sign Amber [Ogeretsu Tanaka]

Zetsubou ni Nake [Shinou Ryo]: Guys. This story is UNIQUE AS HELL. I had to say something about it. The premise is that a man who was raped turns around and goes back after his rapist and rapes him back, and then they fall in love. IT'S....the amount of times my jaw dropped was insane on this one. SOMEHOW IT'S WRITTEN SO WELL. SOMEHOW THEY NAILED THE STRANGE REALISM OF IT AND HAD ME TEARING UP OVER THE INTENSITY OF THE RAPE SCENES. VERY WELL-PACED, VERY TRAUMATIC IN A GOOD WAY. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. The way they come to love each other after this crazy foundation of mutual rape is IMPRESSIVE. Kudos to the writer.

Love or Hate [Yeongha]: This is a very well-known one but there's like zero fandom so I think it fits here. Also a lot of hate going around for it? Which I never understood, fuck those guys. This remains one of the most beautifully-written that I've ever read, and I mean that purely in like...the ACTUAL writing on the page. I'm talking poetry, purple prose. I just recall being blown away by that, and no manga before or since has ever reached its level. For once I felt like the writer was also a novelist because of the way that they put things, and had a clear voice in the style. Did the main boy end up with someone I didn't want him to end up with at the end? Yes. But I felt like it fit pretty well, and it was sort of a tragedy, and it was supposed to hit you painfully in the gut. A lot of people were mad at the main character for that and I don't really think it's fair. In any case! A beautiful story with complex characters and intriguing dilemmas. Highly recommend it.

Shangri La no Tori (Birds of Shangri La) [Ranmaru Zariya]

Two in Six Billion [Denzou]

The Pizza Delivery Man and The Gold Palace [Upi]: Great story and character-building so far! I will say that once it became porn, it dove a little too heavily into it for me. Like I only needed one scene of the porn, I was enjoying the panic attack scenes much more. BUT YEAH, IT'S ONGOING, SO WE'LL SEE WHERE IT GOES! But the panic attack scenes were the reason I read it and yes, I did tear up.

Sleeping Dead and Living Dead [Asada Nemui]: I RECENTLY FOUND THIS ONE AND ADOOOOOOREEE IT SO MUCH. I DO NOT CARE THAT IT'S AN OLD SCIENTIST AND HIS ZOMBIE PATIENT. NORMALLY THAT WOULD HOLD NO SWAY OVER ME, BUT OH GODS, THE ART IS SO PRETTY AND THE STORY IS SO GOOD. I LOVE THE LITTLE ZOMBIE MAN! I LOVE THE LITTLE ROMANCE THEY'VE GOT!

Private Lessons [ANCO, Mongya]: It's cuuuuute what can I saayyyyy it has BDSM and threesomes and I liked it. Very entertaining. Scratches the BDSM itch and the little SUB WAS SO CUTE. Anyway.

Kingyo no Ubugoe [Gontaku Nido]

From Points of Three [White Eared]: Threesome dynamics!!

Silent Lover [Qiang Tang, Bai Li Jun Xi]: I STOPPED THIS ONE AT A CERTAIN POINT BECAUSE IT DIPPED INTO WEIRD M-PREG AND STUFF I CANNOT READ. But BEFORE all that, I was deeply ingrained in this one. It has a main character who can't speak (a particular weakness of mine) and he's OH SO CUTE and he's given as a sex slave basically to the emperor (emperor? idk he's a kingly man, something like that), and the emperor is evil but learns to be soft and yet it takes a LONG TIME SO I WAS BAWLING HYSTERICALLY OVER SOME OF THE HEARTWRENCHINGLY PAINFUL SCENES IN THIS FOR THE POOR YUU-ER. A good read until it decided to go the omegaverse-by-magic-potions route. I didn't stay to figure out where it actually ended up.

Yoru wa Tomodachi [Ido Gihou]

Toumei na Ai no Utsuwa [Hitomi]

Re:Birth [Misuaki Asou]: The singular omegaverse story in existence that I actually liked. Hopefully that says a lot. Mostly because it's about the omegaverse elements NOT being present for the main character and him trying to fake it because he's lonely and afraid that his partner (an alpha *shakes off the disgusting label because who the fuck thought alpha was a cool word*) will leave him if he finds out he's just a regular guy (aka beta I guess? ABO is weird idc).

Sahara no Kuro Washi [Soutome Emu]: MASTER SLAVE MASTER SLAVE---

Haru ni Kaeru [Kunieda Saika]

Incorrigible [Bbong]

Well Done! [ANCO, Mongya]

Nemuri Otoko to Koi Otoko [Zariya Ranmaru]

Even If You Don't Love Me [Pando]: It dropped off SUPER hard (it's ongoing still) but damn was it good in the beginning. I am sick and tired of where it's at currently but the psychological manipulation and the horror of a certain twist in the storyline was CRUSHING to me. I only wish that it would have gone a better way after it happened, because it slowly destroyed itself and became like a lot of tropey rape stories. The asshole just keeps being an asshole and it's not really where the story seemed to want to go with that. But otherwise, it started off strong and I'll give it kudos for that.

Bigger titles I'm pretty sure everyone has heard of that I enjoy:

Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai [Yoneda Kou]: Is it a little unrealistic that literally everyone in this story is gay apparently and wants to fuck one man apparently and/or rape him? Yes, absolutely. Does that matter once you're in the story and it's so good and all these unrealistic cruelties make a really strong bond between the main love interest and this self-destructive masochist who's probably not really a masochist but only interested in hurting himself because he doesn't know how else to handle his trauma from childhood? Ummmm yeah. Anyway! This one had a lot of inspiration and a lot of tears and a lot of obsession from me. I re-read it all the time, I watch the movie over and over, I listen to the audio drama and cry at my favorite scenes. Do I care in the end that it's a little unrealistic at times? No but I do laugh sometimes when I'm about to share it with a new person. Because BL is just like that generally and you've got to put up with a little of those tropes to find your favorite stories. THIS IS ONE OF THE TOP FAVORITES OF ALL TIME FOR ME BTW, IT'S ONLY SO LOW DOWN HERE BECAUSE PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE IN YAOI KNOWS ABOUT THIS ONE ALREADY, AND WE'RE ALL AWARE OF HOW GOOD IT IS.

ENNEAD [Mojito]: I will say that this is basically the best manga/comic/manhua...what's the Chinese word idk ANYTHING OF THIS MEDIA TYPE that I have ever read. It's not done, and people have been complaining that it's starting to fall into the common BL tropes but you know what I do NOT care. Mojito is a genius, Mojito is a master storyteller, Mojito is beautiful, Mojito is strong - I just love Mojito and this work. So much. The action, the horror of rape, the deep-set character conflicts and dilemmas and internal turmoils. Everything, nailed it. Nailed it. And not to mention it's set in FUCKING EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY AND THEY'RE ALL GODS AND THEY HAVE SUCH COOL BATTLES AND COSTUMES AND DUDE???? I'm so hooked. That's all.

Killing Stalking [Koogi]: OBVIOUSLY. I don't really need to say anything about this one except that yeah, some of the psychology is a little off and some of it is just super shallow. But I loved the characters and that's what mattered in the end. I fell in love with Sangwoo too and it ripped my heart out when I read the ending. I was depressed for like two weeks and it was the first story that had ever affected me that way, but I was also younger and this was one of my first yaoi/BLs and yeah. GREAT story though, fantastic storytelling, very lovable characters. Sangwoo was handled so much better than most "asshole/kidnapper/rapist" characters and I will never stop appreciating that, because a lot of writers tend to forget that your villains have to have redeeming qualities if you want us to like them (????). Jinx, I'm fucking coming for you. Suck my dick. KOOGI FTW.

Missing Love/A Married Man [In Hyerin]: Some of the DESCRIPTIONS of how trauma works especially of the sexual nature in this story are SO. SO. GOOD. However, I am beginning to grow VERY ANNOYED at where it decided to go with the most current updates of the story. The author did enough trauma to the main boy, now it's getting so incredibly excessive that it's overdoing it and the author's kinks are showing through. LIKE I GET IT. Okay? I do. But this one became too much and I need him to return to the actual story arc of going through that trauma so he can HEAL with the right person taking care of him.

MadK [Ryo Sumiyoshi]: I am into NONE of the kinks that would lead to me picking up this manga. I hate demons, I'm not a monsterfucker, I can't do extreme guro, and yet I SAW CANNIBALISM. THAT WAS THE ONE THING THAT I THOUGHT I'D GIVE IT A TRY FOR. And then accidentally I got obsessed because the plot is AMAZING and the writing is SO GOOD and who cares if I hate demons and monsters ALL OF THEM ARE BADASS AND HOT (??) AND IT CEASES TO MATTER. Good on the writer for making them appeal by personality alone and expressions and whatever else you signed a deal with the devil to make me like because it worked. Also the guro is beautiful, so it doesn't even matter. Hannibal levels.

Warehouse [Killerwhale]

Painter of the Night [Byeonduck]

Viewfinder/Finder [Yamane Ayano]

Given [Kizu Natsuki, Gusari]

Nii-Chan [Harada] (and basically every other work by Harada)

Sadistic Beauty Side Story [Geumsan Lee, Woo Yeonhui]

Dine With a Vampire [Pangin, Pinko]

Angel Buddy [Mastergin, Chungnyun]

My Partner's Tastes and Fetishes [Deok Hwa]

Interview with a Murderer [KJK]

On or Off [A1]

Steel Under Silk [Snob]

The Pawn's Revenge [Evy]: It was going to be SO GOOD! And then it dropped off harder than a boulder from a balcony and I have absolutely no idea why the author took it the way that they took it, but go off I guess. It's boring as hell now but it started off with promise and I enjoyed the art and character designs. Too bad, I suppose.

Caste Heaven [Ogawa Chise]: An old classic with all the sticky sometimes icky mostly ridiculous BL tropes but hey, it's cute. It's sexy. It's fun. I don't care.

Wet Sand [Doyak]: We're still in the beginning stage of this one but I'm excited to see where it goes! Plus the art SLAPS ASS like nobody's business.

19 Days [Old Xian]: I hate comedy, I hate fluff, I hate buddies that never become lovers, but none of that mattered when I picked this one up. The duality of man. Bite-sized chapters and ACTUALLY AN EVENTUAL ROMANCE that none of us thought we'd ever get.

Legs That Won't Walk [Black Apricot]: Although this one dropped off hard for me and I'm really just following it to see if it picks up again and does something interesting (it probably won't) I did enjoy it in the beginning. I just get tired of the "asshole just keeps being an asshole and nothing else but woobified slut keeps coming back to him??" without the strong and realistic undercurrent of Reasons Why Someone Would Come Back such as manipulation or threats or unhealthy attachment. Perhaps it was sorta there in the beginning with them but now I'm just like why are we still continuing this story.

Pearl Boy [Inking, Zoy]: *Awkwardly scratches neck* It's not the best okay? It's not. It's really not. I don't like half of the things that occur in this one, but the ART, bro. THE ART, BRO? That's what got me into it and what kept me into it, PLUS I do like little Jooha. I stayed for Jooha, too. Dooshik drives me a little batty most of the time and looks ugly for half the story to me, but when he's badass, he's pretty badass, so I can forgive him. I really don't know why he has such drastically changing appearances because I thought he was someone completely different for a bit LMAO. In any case, I have to admit I like the uhhhhh danger that Jooha gets himself into and the crazy things that make no sense but you know what he gets hurt and then there's comfort and rescue and they cry and I cease to care that it makes no sense. (Sorta, I don't actually cease to care I just laugh awkwardly and go okay sure that's how it works because it's so hard to find stories that don't do this LOL I'm beating a dead horse) BUT WHY DOES HE CUM PEARLS? WILL WE EVER KNOW? WHO THE HELL THOUGHT OF THAT AND WITHOUT A SUPPORTING MAGIC SYSTEM IN THE WORLD TO MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE? IT WENT DOWNHILL SO FAST AND THE ENDING IS TERRIBLE BTW. THE VILLAIN SUCKS.

That's it. I can't talk to much or I'll run out of words but HOPE YOU GUYS FIND SOME NEW READS!!