#to be clear I am not in any physical danger at home

[sassmill]

Thinking back to the parking lot conversation I had with my coworker after I fully broke down and told her everything that has been going on at home and how I feel so fucking trapped because I can’t afford to leave and she compared it to intimate partner violence and it just. Sank in in a way that it hadn’t before. Like when my therapist told me to imagine if somebody treated the girl I babysit the way I was treated, would I think that was something to brush off or would I immediately report it? Just. Having somebody force you to view your struggles from another perspective is so powerful.

[buckets-and-trees]

Bird On A Wire

Characters/Pairings: Mafia!Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader x Mafia!Steve Word Count: 4.3k Summary: Caught by two dangerous men, you see the skies ahead for you as their little bird. Sequel to Little Lark.

Content/Warnings: dub-con, explicit smut, cockwarming, oral (male receiving), PIV sex, anal fingering (female receiving), use of pet name (little lark), dacryphilia, so much praise kink

Author Notes: Week eight of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - using the COCKWARMING and dialogue prompts (dialogue prompt bold/italicized) - and filling my May box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with PRAISE KINK.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The next morning, you were on a flight to New York City. Private jet. In the clothes you’d worn yesterday, but they’d been laundered overnight. You’d slept naked in the bed of Barnes and Rogers - with what little sleep they allowed you to have.

You’d been allowed a few hours of sleep just before dawn and given a modicum of reprieve as the men woke for the day, ordered room service, and got to business. When your laundered clothes had been delivered, they’d plucked you out of bed, and told you to dress and be ready to leave within a few minutes.

You sat stiffly in the plush leather seat. As the jet soared over the clouds, you stared out the window, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The events of the past 24 hours felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from. Your body ached, a constant reminder of the previous night's activities. The sapphire pendant hung heavy around your neck, its weight a physical manifestation of your new reality.

Bucky and Steve sat across from you. You tried not to look at them, but your eyes kept darting over, drawn by some magnetic pull you couldn't explain.

Steve was typing away on a laptop while Bucky leafed through some papers, both of them seemingly unconcerned with your presence. You tried to steady your breathing, to appear calm, but your mind raced with questions and fears about what awaited you in New York.

You couldn't help but marvel at how normal they seemed in the light of day, dressed in crisp suits, sipping coffee. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were just successful businessmen.

"We'll be landing in about an hour," Steve informed you, breaking into your thoughts. "Once we're home, we'll get you settled in."

Home. The word felt foreign. You wondered what kind of life awaited you in New York.

"I… I don't have any of my things," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky looked up from his papers, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, little lark. We'll take care of everything you need."

Steve nodded in agreement. "You'll want for nothing. Clothes, toiletries, anything you require - it's all been arranged." His eyes roamed over you appreciatively. "We take care of what's ours."

You shivered at his words, unsure if it was from fear or something else entirely. The way they looked at you made you feel both terrified and oddly… desired.

But the implication was clear: they had planned this, had known exactly how things would unfold. You swallowed hard, trying to process the level of control they already had over your life.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "And my family? You said... you said you knew about them."

"Safe and sound," Bucky assured you, his tone oddly gentle. "We've already arranged for their debts to be cleared and their protection to be... ongoing."

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly. "As far as they know, you've accepted a lucrative job offer in New York. They’ll believe you’re busy, and you will be.”

"What exactly am I supposed to do?" you asked, voicing another of the many questions swirling in your mind. "You said you don't need an assistant..."

Steve closed his laptop and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Your job, sweetheart, is to keep us happy.”

“In every way,” Bucky added.

You felt your face flush at their words, memories of the previous night flashing through your mind. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting in your lap.

"What does that mean exactly?"

Steve reached across and took your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "It means you'll be by our side, day and night. At home, at social events, in business meetings. You'll learn to anticipate our needs, to be whatever we require in the moment."

Bucky's eyes glinted as he added, "And in private, you'll pleasure us. Satisfy our every desire."

Your breath caught in your throat. The reality of your situation was sinking in deeper with each passing moment.

"But I'm not... I don't have experience with..." you trailed off, embarrassed.

Steve's eyes darkened, a predatory glint appearing. "Oh, you can. And you will."

Bucky set aside his papers and leaned forward, mirroring Steve's posture. "We're not unreasonable men, little lark. Please us, and you'll find life can be very... pleasurable."

The implication in his tone made you shiver. You remembered all too well the sensations they had drawn from your body the night before, against your will and better judgment.

"But disappoint us," Steve continued, his voice low and dangerous, "and there will be consequences.”

You felt every muscle in your body tense.

Steve’s phone buzzed, and he stood abruptly, dropping your hand and walking away to take the call.

“We’ll start with something simple.” Bucky reached for your other hand and guided you to your feet. The jet's cabin suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. You could smell his cologne - a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine.

"Let's see how well you can follow instructions," Bucky murmured, his voice low and husky. His steel-blue eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. "Take off your panties."

Your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding. You glanced nervously at Steve, still on his phone call at the other end of the cabin.

"Eyes on me, little lark," Bucky commanded softly, drawing your attention back. "Steve's busy. This is between you and me right now."

With trembling hands, you reached under your skirt. You hesitated for a moment before slowly sliding your panties down your legs, stepping out of them. Bucky's gaze never wavered, patient but unyielding. Bucky held out his hand and you placed the delicate fabric in his palm. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply before pocketing them with a smirk.

"Good girl," he praised. "Now, unzip my pants and take my cock out."

Your eyes widened, darting nervously to Steve again. He was still engrossed in his call, pacing at the far end of the cabin.

“Lark,” Bucky growled, and your eyes darted back to him, the warning clear. “I said eyes on me,” he reminded, bringing his hand to your cheek, and tracing along the edge of your jaw. You knew the tender gesture was a signal that he could grip your jaw and force you to do what he wanted.

You knelt before him, and with shaking hands, you reached for his belt buckle. The leather was soft and supple under your fingers as you worked it open. Bucky's breath hitched slightly as your knuckles brushed against his abdomen. You fumbled with the button of his trousers before managing to undo it, then slowly lowered the zipper.

Bucky's eyes never left your face, watching your every reaction. You could feel the heat radiating from Bucky's body, smell his intoxicating scent.

Your fingers trembled as you reached into Bucky's pants, feeling the heat of his skin. You carefully extracted his cock, already half-hard and impressive in size. The weight of it in your hand made your breath catch. You stroked him tentatively, marveling at the contrast of soft skin over rigid flesh.

Bucky's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. "That's it, little lark. Nice and slow," he murmured, voice husky.

You continued your ministrations, feeling him grow fully erect under your touch. Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. The cabin suddenly felt too warm, too small. Everything the night before had been the two of them working you while you took what they gave. It was different now with you being the one taking action.

"Enough," Bucky growled softly after a few moments. He grasped your wrist, stilling your movements. "Up in my lap."

Heart pounding, you obeyed as he tugged you up and guided you to straddle his waist. You tentatively braced your hands on his shoulders. He pushed your skirt up and out of the way, before guiding you onto his cock. “You’ll warm my cock the rest of the flight, maybe this’ll help you relax.”

Your trembled and gasped as he pulled your hips down. He found little resistance, as your traitorous body was already growing slick for him, but your cunt was sore from taking their enormous cocks the night before. Quiet tears slipped down your face, but you bit your lip, not wanting to make him unhappy.

He brushed one of your tears away with his thumb and smiled at you, half tender, half patronizing.

Your breath caught as you felt Bucky's cock stretching you, filling you completely. He held you still once you were fully seated, hand gripping your hip firmly.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, brushing his lips against your ear. Then he gently coaxed your head onto his shoulder. "Now, stay nice and still. Don't move unless I tell you to."

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. The position was intimate, almost unbearably so. You could feel every twitch of Bucky's cock inside you, every slight shift of his body. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still.

Steve's voice drifted over from the other end of the cabin as he continued his phone call. The normalcy of his tone, discussing what sounded like business matters, was a stark contrast to your current situation. You felt exposed, vulnerable, even though you were still fully clothed. Your face burned with shame and arousal. You couldn't believe you were doing this, sitting in Bucky's lap with his cock inside you while Steve was just feet away.

When you heard Steve’s footsteps approaching a few minutes later, you tensed.

"Good girl," he praised, one hand moving to stroke your back soothingly. "You're doing so well."

“Isn’t she?” Bucky cooed.

And your body betrayed you again, clenching around Bucky's length over their praise.

Bucky chuckled darkly.

“She like that, Buck?”

"Mmm,” he hummed. “Our little lark is a slut for praise.”

Steve chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Is that so?" Steve crouched down beside Bucky’s seat. His hand came to rest on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Look at me, sweetheart."

Hesitantly, you lifted your head from Bucky's shoulder and met Steve's intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his hand sliding higher up your thigh. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. I bet you're dripping wet, aren't you?"

You whimpered softly, unable to form words. Steve's fingers ghosted over your clit, making you jerk slightly in Bucky's lap. Bucky's grip on your hip tightened in warning.

"Answer him," Bucky’s town was low but sharp.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I'm wet."

Steve's smirk widened. "Of course you are. Your body knows what it needs, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet." His fingers continued their teasing exploration, circling your clit with feather-light touches. "You're going to learn to crave this, sweetheart. To need us."

A soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction. Bucky's grip tightened further, holding you still.

"Ah ah," he chided softly. "I said don't move unless I tell you to."

"S-sorry," you gasped, trying to regain control of your body.

Steve chuckled, his fingers never ceasing their torturous ministrations, tracing where you were stretched around Bucky's cock. The dual sensation of being filled by Bucky and teased by Steve was overwhelming. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction.

Bucky gave a warning slap to your ass, and you hissed from the sting.

You froze, trying desperately to stay still despite the sensations overwhelming you. Tears pricked at your eyes from the effort and the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

"Shh, it's okay," Steve soothed, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. "We know it's hard for you. You're doing so well."

His praise sent another surge of arousal through you, making you clench around Bucky's cock. Bucky groaned softly, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Such a responsive little thing," he murmured, nuzzling against your neck. "We're going to have so much fun with you."

Steve's fingers continued their teasing, circling your clit with maddeningly light touches. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still, your breath coming in short gasps.

Steve's eyes glinted with amusement. "I think our girl needs a lesson in true self-control, Buck. What do you say?"

Bucky nodded, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Couldn't agree more."

Your heart raced as you looked between them, uncertain of what they had in mind. Steve stood, towering over you, and began unbuckling his belt. The sound of leather sliding through fabric loops made you shiver.

"Open your mouth, little lark," Steve commanded, his voice low and husky.

You hesitated, glancing at Bucky, who gave you an encouraging nod. Slowly, you parted your lips, your breath coming in short, shallow pants.

Steve guided his cock to your mouth, rubbing the tip against your lips. "You're going to take me in your mouth while staying perfectly still on Bucky's cock.”

You trembled as Steve's thick length slid past your lips. The taste of him, musky and slightly salty, filled your senses. You struggled to relax your jaw, to accommodate his impressive size, fighting against how it ached from taking them both in your mouth in turns last night, too.

"That's it, sweetheart," Steve murmured, one hand tangling in your hair. "Nice and slow. Use your tongue."

You did as instructed, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he pushed deeper into your mouth. All the while, you fought to keep your hips still, Bucky's cock a constant, throbbing presence inside you.

Bucky's hands roamed your body, teasing and caressing, kneading the fleshy parts of you everywhere, as ravenous for your hips as your stomach, your chest, your ass, your thighs . He cupped your breasts through your blouse, thumbs brushing over your nipples. The dual sensations - Steve in your mouth, Bucky inside you and touching you - were overwhelming.

"Look at her, Buck," Steve's voice was thick with desire as he slowly thrust into your mouth. "Look at how well she's taking us both. Such a good little cockwarmer."

You whimpered around Steve's length, the praise sending another surge of arousal through you. Your body trembled with the effort of staying still, every muscle taut as you fought against the urge to move.

Bucky's hands continued their exploration, one sliding beneath your blouse to palm your breast directly. His thumb brushed over your nipple, making you gasp around Steve's cock.

"That's it," Steve encouraged, his grip in your hair tightening slightly. "Just relax and let us use you. This is what you're made for."

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mix of shame and arousal overwhelming you. You felt split open, exposed, caught between these two powerful men who seemed determined to consume and control you.

The plane suddenly hit a patch of turbulence, jostling everyone. You gasped and instinctively clenched around Bucky, causing him to groan. Steve's cock slipped from your mouth as you struggled to maintain your balance.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" you began, panic rising in your chest.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, his hand gentle at the back of your neck. "That wasn't your fault."

Bucky's hands steadied you on his lap. "Deep breaths, little lark. You're doing so well."

Their unexpected gentleness made your eyes sting with unshed tears. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself.

"Now, where were we?" Steve mused, guiding his cock back to your lips. "Open up, sweetheart."

You parted your lips obediently and Steve pushed in again, but even deeper into your mouth, the head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. Your jaw ached, stretched wide around his girth. Bucky's hands continued to roam your body, teasing and tormenting, while his cock remained buried inside you. The dual sensations were overwhelming, pleasure and discomfort blurring together.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Taking us both so well." You whimpered around his length, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Gorgeous,” he added, letting his other hand play through your tear tracks.

The praise sent another surge of arousal through you, your body betraying you once again as you clenched around Bucky's cock. Bucky chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel how wet you are, little lark. Your body knows what it needs, even if you’re reluctant to accept your new life. But you’re dripping for us, desperate.”

You felt your face burn with shame at Bucky's words, knowing they were true. Despite your fear and uncertainty, your body was responding eagerly to their touch, craving more. Steve continued to thrust slowly into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You struggled to breathe through your nose, tears streaming down your face.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly. You raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. "That's it. I want to see those pretty eyes while I fuck your mouth."

A muffled whimper escaped you, the dual sensations of Steve's cock in your mouth and Bucky's inside you becoming consuming every fiber of your being, every ounce of your existence.

Steve's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more insistent. You struggled to keep up, your jaw aching as you tried to accommodate his impressive girth. His blue eyes, dark with desire, never left yours as he fucked your mouth with increasing fervor.

"That's it, little lark," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly. "Take it all."

You could feel him swelling, growing impossibly harder on your tongue. The taste of him intensified - salty, musky, undeniably male. Your senses were overwhelmed, filled with nothing but Steve and Bucky.

Steve's breathing grew ragged, his thrusts more erratic. "I'm close," he warned, his grip tightening in your hair. "You're going to swallow every drop, understand?"

You whimpered around his cock, tears streaming down your face.

Bucky's hands continued their torturous exploration of your body, one hand kneading your breast while the other slipped between your legs. His fingers found your clit, circling it with maddening lightness. You moaned around Steve's cock, your hips twitching involuntarily.

"Ah ah," Bucky chided, stilling his movements. You mewled in protest of losing his ministrations to your throbbing clit, but in the next instant, Steve’s hips jerked forward, and he groaned, burying his cock deep in your throat as he began to climax. The first pulse of his release hit the back of your throat, hot and thick. You struggled not to gag, tears streaming down your face as you fought to swallow around his length.

"That's it," Steve growled, his voice strained. "Take it all."

Wave after wave of his seed flooded your mouth, coating your tongue with its salty-sweet flavor. You swallowed frantically, trying to keep up with the copious amount. Some escaped the corners of your lips, trickling down your chin.

Steve's hand tightened at the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he continued to empty himself into your mouth. The taste, the scent, the feeling of being so thoroughly used - it all overwhelmed your senses.

As Steve's release finally subsided, he slowly withdrew from your mouth, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. You gasped for air, your jaw aching and your throat raw. Steve's thumb brushed over your swollen lips, smearing the mixture of his seed and your saliva.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "You took it all so well."

Bucky's fingers resumed their torture of your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You trembled in his lap, fighting against the urge to move, to seek more friction.

"I think our little lark deserves a reward, don't you, Steve?" Bucky's voice was husky in your ear.

Steve nodded, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't agree more."

Before you could process what was happening, Bucky's hands gripped your hips, and he fucked up into you, violently, but you welcomed it with a debauched moan, clutching tightly to his shoulders as he drove into your aching, needy cunt.

Bucky's pace was relentless, his cock driving into you with bruising force. Your head fell back, a strangled cry escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through your body. The change from stillness to frenzied movement was jarring, overwhelming your senses.

Each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head fell back, mouth open in a groan of ecstasy as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. The cabin filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans.

"That's it, little lark," Bucky growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Sing for us. Let us hear your pretty sounds."

Steve's hand came to rest on your throat, not squeezing, just a gentle pressure. A reminder of his presence, of his control. "You're ours now," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "Every sound, every reaction - it all belongs to us."

You whimpered, caught between shame and arousal. Your body responded eagerly to their touches, to their words, even as your mind reeled with the implications of your new reality.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You couldn't form words, could only whimper and nod as Bucky continued his merciless assault on your senses. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

"Tell us," Bucky demanded, his grip on your hips tightening. "Tell us how much you love it."

"I-I love it!” you cried.

Without warning, Steve plunged a finger into your ass, and the shock and overwhelming sensation sent you careening into a blinding orgasm. The clenching and convulsion of your cunt made Bucky jerk and then drill into you even faster, spilling his release in height of your climax.

You didn’t realize you were sobbing until Steve began soothing your back, petting up and down, cooing more soft praises as you struggled to stay coherent.

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, you collapsed against Bucky's chest, trembling and gasping for air. Your mind was a haze of pleasure and confusion, your body wrung out and oversensitive. Bucky's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he softened inside you.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You did so well."

Steve's hand continued its soothing motion along your back. "Beautiful," he added, his voice low and appreciative.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened and the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Shame, arousal, fear, and a strange sense of... belonging? It was all too much.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, sensing your distress. "Let it out.”

After a few more minutes, once your breathing had finally returned to normal, you pushed back from Bucky’s chest, and made to move off his lap.

He tsked at you and frowned.

"Not yet, little lark," Bucky murmured, keeping you firmly seated on his lap. "I want you to feel me inside you a bit longer. Let it sink in who you belong to now."

You shivered at his words, acutely aware of his softening cock still nestled within you, still so big inside you. Your body felt boneless, wrung out from the intensity of your orgasm, and the sticky mix of your combined spend was weeping slightly around his cock, and you could feel it.

Steve's hand came to rest on the back of your neck, a gentle but possessive touch. "We're going to take such good care of you," he reminded, his voice low and soothing. "You'll want for nothing."

You nodded weakly, unable to form words. Your mind was still reeling, trying to process everything that had happened. You felt fresh tears welling up, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation and your own conflicted emotions. Part of you wanted to fight, to rebel against this new reality they were forcing upon you. But another part - a part that grew stronger with each passing moment - craved their touch, their approval.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly, finally taking the seat again next to Bucky.

Hesitantly, you raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, but there was also a hint of something else - possessiveness, perhaps even tenderness.

"You're ours now," he said, his voice low and firm. "Everything about you belongs to us - your body, your pleasure, your pain. We'll push you to your limits and beyond, but we'll also take care of you in ways you've never imagined."

You shivered at his words, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation. Bucky's hands stroked soothingly along your sides, a stark contrast to the bruising grip he'd had on your hips moments ago.

"We know this is a lot to take in," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "You'll learn to love it. To crave it."

As if to emphasize his point, he shifted slightly, and a soft moan left your lips.

Steve leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek. "Remember, little lark. Pleasure or pain - the choice is yours."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Bucky drew a finger over your sapphire pendant, and Steve kissed you, licking into your mouth to taste his tang on your tongue. He didn’t relent until you were gasping for air. Then Bucky kissed your cheek, and Steve pushed your head gently down onto Bucky’s shoulder once more.

And the two resumed their business and idle chatter, while you floated away, exhausted, and your body gave way to peace while you could claim it.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

NEXT PART: Bird Home in the Darkness

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[gloomweed]

Not Alone

(Eddie Munson/Reader Comfort One-Shot)

Summary: After a traumatic incident, you seek out the comfort of your crush best friend Eddie in the late evening.

Author's Note: I wrote this as a means to cope with my own recent traumatic experience involving my alcoholic father, so this is pretty self-indulgent comfort fic; however, I left the details pretty vague so hopefully it can relate to most others. Pretty much anyone with a shitty home life. Also, reader is referred to as a girl, but no pronouns are used for the reader and physical characteristics aren't mentioned. wc: ~2.8k tw: reader has an alcoholic father (implied), otherwise this a fluffy comfort one-shot.

Eddie’s dreamless sleep was interrupted by the sound of gentle rapping at the door. At first he thought he was hearing things, but when the sound repeated he rolled out of bed with a groan. He glances at the clock on his night stand that reads 12:23 am in bright red lights. Not bothering to put on a shirt, he rubbed the crust from his eyes as he stumbled towards the living room. Who the hell is knocking at this time of night? Peeking through the peep-hole, his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your hair was disheveled, like you had been running your hands through it, and the way you held your arms made you seem so small and fragile. Completely unlike yourself on any normal day.

The old screen door squeaks as he opens it, but underneath that sound, Eddie could hear you sniffling. Without the filter of the dirty glass covering the peep-hole, he could see that your eyes were red and puffy. The light from the porch lamp caught on the tear streaks running down your cheeks, making it look like gold. “Sorry, Eddie. I know you were probably sleeping, but-”

From the moment he spots you, it's clear to Eddie that you're in some kind of trouble. It puts him on edge, becoming hyper vigilant for your sake. He cuts you off as he ushers you inside with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about that, just get in here.” He's been around the block before, so he knows to make sure you aren't being followed by some lurking creep looking to prey on a vulnerable girl. He keeps an eye out as you enter, looking for any signs of immediate danger. From what he can tell, the rest of the trailer park is asleep. With no cars or people passing by, he follows you indoors, locking the deadbolt behind him. 

Inside, you stand in the entryway for a moment, unsure what to do with yourself now that you're here. After locking the door, Eddie sees you standing there frozen. With a faraway look in your glassy eyes, you looked like you were lost in thought. His gaze doesn't leave your sad face as he gently takes hold of your hand, swiping his calloused thumb over your knuckles in an attempt to bring you back to the present moment. When you finally look him in the eyes, he smiles in what he hopes is in a comforting way. It’s okay. You’re here now. I’m here for you. You manage a tight lip smile of your own, grateful you have such a good friend.

He jerks his head in the direction of the couch, and you accept with a nod. Eddie leaves for a moment to grab the roll of toilet paper from the bathroom. When he holds it out to you, he explains. “We don’t have any real tissues, so this is the best I can offer.” As you take it from him, he cringes with embarrassment. “Sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be. Thank you.” Taking a few squares off the roll, you wipe your face and blow your nose. 

Eddie takes a seat beside you, looking worried. He runs his sweaty hands over his pant legs, feeling unsure of how he should help you. “So, uh… Do you want to talk about it, or is this more like a ‘no questions asked’ situation?”

There is a silent pause as you gather your thoughts, unsure yourself of what you want. You take a deep breath and release it slowly, refocusing yourself on the reason you decided to make an impromptu visit to your friend so late at night. “It’s my dad.” Eddie nods, aware that you have what some might call a ‘complicated relationship’ with your dad. Personally, he prefers to call it ‘your dad is an asshole, but you don’t have the means to move out of your parent’s place just yet, so you’re forced to just grin and bear it until you can.’ You fiddle with the crumpled toilet paper in your lap, frowning. “It got bad. He was yelling and screaming and breaking things.” The furrow of your brow made it seem like you were about to cry again. 

“You don’t have to get into it if you don’t want to. I mean, look who you’re talking to. If there’s anyone who understands having a shitty dad, it’s me.” Eddie smirks as he confidently puts his hand on his chest. It’s enough to make you smile in appreciation of his understanding. “So what I’m hearing is you need to stay here for a few days?”

Eddie’s offer makes your heart skip and the moment it's out there, you're shaking your head. “Just for the night would be plenty. You don’t have to let me stay at all if you’re busy-” 

He shakes his head with a smile, amused by the thought of him being too busy for you. “Nah, it’s no trouble. You know I like having you around.” He winks playfully knowing it would make you laugh. And it does, albeit just barely. It’s really more a snuff of breath exhaled out of your nose, but Eddie will take what he can get. “Besides, makes Wayne happy seeing I have actual friends instead of, you know, buyers.” After you nod in understanding, he points towards the back where his bedroom is. “You can take my room, while I take the ol’ reliable here.” He pats the cushion he's sitting on with a lopsided smile.

Knowing you, Eddie is already expecting an argument about it's his bed, he should be the one to sleep on it, but he could never have that, especially with his uncle's midwestern ideals. Eddie knows Wayne would chew him out if he lets a guest sleep on the couch. When you stay at the Munson's, you sleep on the one and only bed in the house. That's how Wayne was raised, and what was consequently drilled into Eddie's skull when he moved in. While he prepared this rebuttal in his head, your protest never came. 

Eddie looks to see you biting your lip as you look at your feet. He watches you patiently as you work up the nerve to say what you want to say. “Would it be okay if we share the bed?” Eddie almost can't stop himself from grinning, but he manages to keep in his screaming thoughts at the prospect of sharing his bed with a pretty girl like you. On the outside, Eddie does his best to play it cool, but you must have seen his eyes go wide in excitement and took it the wrong way. Waving your hands dismissively, you do your best to remedy the awkward silence. “You don’t have to! I know it’s a weird request, it's just…” Your eyes dim again as you feel the embarrassment creep up your neck. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

Seeing you so emotionally beaten down and afraid makes Eddie feel a kind of sadness he hasn’t felt since he was a kid. Before he became more cynical and realized most people deserve what they have coming for them. But he knows you; your kindness and generosity. There’s a feeling of something heavy sitting in the pit of his stomach and Eddie knows for certain you don’t deserve to feel like this, no matter what the situation could possibly be. The sadness quickly evolves into rage when he remembers this is something your own father did. He may not know all the details, but he knows fathers aren't supposed to leave their children feeling like this. Like a burden. 

Seeing as being around an angry person is probably the last thing you need, Eddie pushes his feelings to the back of his mind for when he might need it. Like the next time he sees your dad’s car sitting in the liquor store parking lot, for example. A crudely spray-painted penis on that dirtbag’s car might be the thing to put a real smile on your face. Even the thought that Eddie would go to jail if he got caught wasn’t enough to deter him. If it’s in the name of giving you the justice you undoubtedly deserve, he’d do it. This town already sees him as a criminal, so it wouldn’t make a difference to him either way. Why not do something bad for someone so good?

He says your name softly to get you to look at him through tear-heavy lashes. Eddie’s unwavering intense gaze is enough to make your hair stand up on end and your throat tighten. He subconsciously tilts his head at the sight of your sad face. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Alright?” All you can manage is a nod in response, not trusting your own voice. You only hope he can feel your gratitude through it. “Welp,” he stands up from the couch pushing off of his knees. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

You follow Eddie to his room where he begins to shake out the blanket he left resting haphazardly on his bed. He motions for you to lie down while he does so. Once you’ve settled on the side closest to the wall, the blanket flutters out one last time to lay mostly flat over you. Eddie quickly settles in bed next to you, doing his best to leave a respectable distance between you both. “Is this okay?” he asks once you’re both settled.

Clutching the blanket that smells overwhelmingly like Eddie, you bury yourself deeper into the pillow under your head. There is a small smile adorning your face as you get comfortable. “Yes. Thank you.” 

Eddie quickly sits up to turn off the lights and for a moment the warm glow from his bedside lamp casts a fitting halo around his mop of messy dark curls. There is a quiet ‘click’ as the room becomes dark and you can hear him shuffle back down under the covers. Eventually, he lets out one last sigh saying, “Sweet dreams,” before relaxing next to you.

His gentle breathing is not enough to get you to fall asleep. Hours after Eddie began his soft snoring, you're still running through the night's events. Where did you go wrong? What could you have done differently? What's wrong with you?

These questions circle through your head to the point you begin to feel a pressing headache at the front of your mind. It was like a brewing storm, with dark clouds and impending rain. No matter how you think of it, you still feel in the wrong somehow. It was something you did to set your dad off. You deserve to be screamed at. The tight prickly feeling creeps up your neck as you do your best to cry quietly. You don't want to wake Eddie up. He's already helped you so much, you don't want to bother him again. You face away from him, towards the wall, foolishly hoping that little distance would protect him from your breakdown.

Unfortunately, the need to breathe and a runny nose is a noisy combination. Eddie blinks once, twice, before realizing that it's you making that pitiful sound. It's a lot of sniffling and quiet whimpers. When he turns and sees you curled up into yourself with shaking breaths, he feels a little panicked. He sits up and places a hand on your shoulder, rubbing gentle circles there. “Hey, hey, hey,” he coos. “It's okay. You're gonna be okay.” Eddie keeps his voice soft, trying to calm you down, but as the words leave his mouth he can't help but frown at them. Telling someone that they are going to be fine later is not really going to help them now, but it's all Eddie has to offer. 

Voice too broken to respond, all you can do is shake your head. Being seen so vulnerable by the boy you like makes you all the more upset. A few stray tears is one thing, but being damn near hysterical with leaking snot is another. If you thought leaving his room would do any good, you might have tried to make a break for it. Instead, you shut your eyes tight, hoping he wouldn’t push you into talking about it, or worse, push you to look at him. 

Seeing as his words of encouragement are falling on ears too sad to believe him, Eddie feels useless. He hates seeing you like this. He wishes he could take it all away and bear it himself. With his last attempt to console you, Eddie steadies his mind in case of your impending rejection. 

The gentle hands on your sides make your breath catch in surprise. They pull you by the waist to rest a little closer before holding you in a loose hug. Is Eddie Munson cuddling you right now? His body heat radiates off of him in a comforting aura, soothing your tensed shoulders. The genuine surprise is enough to make you forget why you were crying, if only for a moment. The origin of his quiet voice makes you realize that pressure on your shoulder is where he is resting his head. He speaks into your shoulder blade, hiding his blushing face there. “I know I can’t make it better, but that’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

The sorrow in his voice is unmistakable, as if he was the one to make you cry. You feel a distant pang of guilt that Eddie feels the need to fix it for you. You don’t want him to worry about you, despite the little voice in your head telling you otherwise. You can’t deny that a part of you enjoys the way you feel loved when he shows his care for you, but you don’t want it at the expense of becoming a burden he feels obligated to bear. However, seeing as you can't form the words to tell him so, you're forced to let it go and just enjoy the feeling of Eddie enveloping you while you release the rest of your pent-up emotions.

Eddie is somewhat perplexed that you aren’t telling him off or pushing him away, but relishes the feeling of you in his arms nonetheless. He breathes in the scent of your laundry detergent, the one that he only associates with you. The little brushing of arms makes him realize how soft you are. It’s the kind of softness that reminds him of his childhood teddy bear. Something precious and sweet. 

He holds you for a while, being there for you as you cry. There are times he feels like he’s about to doze off, but Eddie wills himself to stay awake. Until he’s sure you’re alright, he can't sleep. When your shaking eventually lessens and your breathing has steadied to the same rhythm of his own, he feels you begin to shuffle in his arms. Eddie takes a small movement away, trying his best to give you your space back should you want it. You turn to face him, tears now dried, and stare into his glittering dark brown eyes. You aren’t sure what words you can say that will convey the gratitude you hold for him. The appreciation. The wholehearted love.

With how long you stare, Eddie struggles to read your expression, and can’t help but smile nervously. Is this the part where you tell him to never do that again? “You always make it better.” Your quiet voice is a little hoarse from your crying, but he manages to hear it anyway. It makes his face go warm with pride and his smile all the more genuine. Your eyes trail over Eddie as you do your best to commit the image to memory. As you appreciate every freckle and crease and dimple, your chest swells with adoration for the lovable boy before you. The feeling is all consuming and before you realize it, you lean into the little space separating you from him and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

When you pull away, you see the shock on Eddie's face. His eyes are wide, his lips parted in awe. The seconds feel like minutes when he doesn't make any kind of response. Blood rushes to your face from embarrassment. You must have overstepped his boundaries! What were you thinking?!  “Sorry. I shouldn't ha-” 

Eddie cuts you off with a kiss of his own, his lips pushing into yours with a touch more force. Heart hammering in your chest, your eyes slip closed as you kiss him back. When he feels you begin to move your lips against his, Eddie can't help but smile into it. His breath fans across your cupid's bow as he sighs in satisfaction. Arms reaching for each other beneath the blanket, your hands slide over his bare chest before settling on his shoulders. One of his hands rests on your waist while the other delicately cups your face. Mouths separating with a click, both of you panting, you wonder if Eddie can tell you're blushing as you stare. His grin is all teeth and dimples as he gazes back with adoration in his eyes. “Don't be. You have no idea how long I wanted to do that.”

[asiantransformations]

A Fitting Power-Up

Wei Xun had always been a man of discipline. A Chinese Malaysian fitness influencer, he had built his life around maintaining the perfect physique. Hours spent in the gym, sticking to strict diets, and an intense daily routine had earned him the admiration of millions of followers online. His body—bulging biceps, perfectly sculpted abs, and legs that could press twice his body weight—was a testament to his dedication. But despite all his hard work, he yearned for something more: the stamina, strength, and power that would make him truly unbeatable, something beyond the limits of human potential.

One day, while visiting an ancient temple in the outskirts of Malaysia, Wei Xun encountered a monk renowned for his mystical abilities. The monk, an old man with wise eyes and a quiet, almost otherworldly presence, could sense Wei Xun’s desire for physical perfection.

“Your body is strong, but your spirit still searches for more,” the monk said, his voice like a whisper carried by the wind.

Wei Xun, intrigued by the monk’s insight, nodded. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am, but I want to push beyond my limits—to have the strength, power, and stamina no one else has. I want to be invincible.”

The monk studied him for a long moment, then gestured for him to follow. They walked deeper into the temple grounds, where the monk stopped in front of a shrine. From behind the shrine, the monk retrieved an ancient scroll and a pair of simple black sneakers, worn but well-kept.

“These shoes,” the monk said, “can give you what you seek. They will amplify your strength, increase your stamina, and grant you unrivaled power every time you wear them. But the blessing comes with a price.”

Wei Xun’s eyes widened as the monk continued.

“These shoes will channel the energy of the universe into your muscles, your body, and your spirit. You will be more powerful, more virile, more tireless than ever before. However, should another person wear them, the blessing will transfer to them entirely for as long as they wear them. You will lose everything: your power, your strength, your stamina, and even your body itself.”

The weight of the monk’s words settled heavily on Wei Xun’s shoulders. He stared at the shoes, tempted by the power they promised. But the risk was clear—if anyone else wore these shoes, he would lose it all. Still, the lure of the strength they offered was too great to resist.

Wei Xun agreed.

The monk nodded solemnly and began a ritual. He chanted softly under his breath, and as he did, the air around them seemed to shift. Wei Xun watched as the monk dipped his fingers into a small bowl of water, tracing ancient symbols over the shoes. The atmosphere grew heavy with energy, as if the very essence of the temple was being drawn into the sneakers.

Once the blessing was complete, the monk handed the shoes to Wei Xun. “Wear them with caution. The power is yours as long as you guard them wisely.”

From that day on, Wei Xun’s workouts became extraordinary. Every time he wore the blessed sneakers, he felt his muscles surge with unstoppable power. His strength seemed endless—he could lift heavier weights than ever before, and his stamina during workouts became almost superhuman. He could run for miles, train for hours, and still have energy left to spare. His body, already impressive, became even more chiseled and powerful, his muscles bulging with newfound vigor. His virility seemed boundless, and the energy that radiated from him was magnetic, drawing even more admiration from his growing fanbase.

But Wei Xun didn’t take any chances. He knew the danger that came with the shoes. He kept them hidden, locking them in a secure, custom-made safe in his home. The only time he took them out was when he needed an extra boost—whether it was for a critical workout, a fitness competition, or an event where his strength and stamina needed to be unmatched. No one knew of their existence, and he made sure it stayed that way.

Every time he put on the sneakers, he felt the surge of energy flow through him, an unstoppable force that made him feel invincible. But the memory of the monk’s warning always lingered in the back of his mind. He knew that as long as he kept the shoes safe, the power would remain his. But should anyone else ever wear them, everything he had worked for would be gone.

And so, Wei Xun continued to rise in the fitness world, his body a symbol of perfection and strength, his stamina unmatched by anyone. But hidden beneath the surface of his success was the secret of the sneakers—the power they held and the risk that came with them.

Every time he locked them away after a workout, he felt a sense of relief. They were his secret weapon, but they were also his greatest vulnerability. And he knew that as long as he kept them under lock and key, no one would ever take his power away.

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 3: New Faces, New Job, New Everything.

Continuation to the Prolouge, Chapter 1 and 2.

Danny stares at Dante in absolute shock, Red Hood? RED HOOD?? OF ALL PEOPLE. Dante had to meet the rumored and probably the most violent of the Vigilantes. And Red Hood being a literal Crime Lord makes this worse.

"He had a fat ass to be hone-" Dante Blurted with a smirk but Danny cuts him off, "No, No. Shut up. I don't wanna hear your- or my- wait no. YOU'RE gay shenanigans." Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to process the whole story.

"Let me get this.. straight-... You ... Ugh.... Ancients save me. YOU. MET. RED HOOD. AFTER. Beating up... Someone in his HAUNT?? And what do you mean he's a revenant? I thought frostbite said those were the "rare cases" of semi-halfas" Danny tries to clear up all the information in his head through just yelling it out.

"Yep." Dante popping the "P" and does not elaborate on anything else but a simple 'yep'.

"Kill me fully- wait... No. Jazz wouldn't want that." Danny reminded himself and took a deep breathe.

"I am so telling Clockwork." Danny spoke out.

"Oh come on! I'm in physical probation! I defended someone from getting bad things happen to them—" Danny cut him off.

"You can say "Fucked up shit" you know stop physically censoring yourself." Danny just stared at Dante with a judgemental face. Dante gasped dramatically like he's offended by that statement.

"OH WOW. It's not like I'm trying to 'Censor' myself because you're a traumatized 13 year old kid and I'm an adult given the responsibility of YOU cuz I love you like my brother." Dante states emphasizing every word.

"You sound like a drag queen." Danny blurts out

"I look better in pink anyways." Dante smirked smugly and Danny just frowned and sighed as Dante Ruffled his hair Mischievously.

"Don't you have a job interview today?" Danny grabbed his hand and gently places it away from his poor hair.

"I already got hired. They said I fit the job." Dante sounded very proud of himself before Danny blurts out "I think they hired you on the spot because you're Eye Candy."

Dante was stunned and thought about it for a moment.

Hmm.

"Yeah I suppose but that doesn't matter now, I have a normal job and people doesn't seem to be bothered by me at all so it's very good." Danny imagined that if Dante had a tail he'd be wagging it and Danny didn't like that mental image of a fucking CATBOY DAN- "UUUUUGHH! I hate that." He drags his palm on his face dramatically.

"And you Danny. Is coming with me to work. I am not leaving you in the apartment because. I will list it.

1. Someone might break in and you're not safe.

2. You might kill that someone either through ghost or through your tendencies to grab that goddamn creep stick and hit without hesitation.

3. I am not letting you play DOOMED for 7 hours straight, But I will let you play Minecraft.

4. You or well, We. Tend to roam away from home when we are bored, in this case you do. And ding ding ding we're in Gotham.

5. If you ever got into any danger. I would not worry if you're okay. I would worry if you killed someone first.

That's your list."

Dante started Loud and Clear.

"Fine but I get to bring both my phone and headphones with my switch." Danny Complied with a deal making Dante smile triumphantly, "Fine with me Twerp, and you better behave at the cafe." He chuckles and Pats Danny's Head Gently but still mischievously.

Danny also giggled, Danny's chest felt warm. And his core buzzed in familiar happiness as Dante and Danny Pressed their foreheads into each other before Dante pats Danny's shoulder and stands back up with a groan.

"Let's go kid, get ready now." Dante stretched his body and cracks some of his "old bones" as Danny heads to his bedroom and takes his sling bag and puts his 'neccesities' inside with a smile.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tim heard about a new Cafe opening nearby Gotham U, although at first he was suspicious of how so many people are already visiting it and even the lines reach outside. He soon found out why. One of their workers was rumored to be apparently "eye candy" or whatever they called people who are very attractive.

This worker was the main Barista and he apparently makes the drinks Infront of the people and he was good at it.

That got Tim even more curious, How attractive does someone have to be that people of all genders are lining up on a new store as if a celebrity is inside. And so he decided to wait in line like any other student as to not direct any attention to himself because that would be utterly humiliating for him.

He waited.....

And waited....

And kept Waiting and Waiting....

Until finally, what felt like an eternity he finally got to order His Coffee.

It seems the rumors are true, the bartender is indeed attractive. Tim got even more curious about how the big man seemed to have canine sharp teeth, oddly pale complexion that almost looks... Purple? And Lazarus Green Water with Red Rims.

"An Americano with two shots please.." He states to the Cashier, "And name please?" The Cashier asks again.

"Timothy." He calmly tells her as she writes it down to a receipt and hands it to the orders That the "Eye Candy" Man and Another Worker was Making.

Tim sat on a nearby table. It was the only table that happened to be empty. Except a 13 years old kid just sitting there playing... Minecraft? Okay-.

The kid stared at Tim, Tim stares back. 'He looks like adoption Bait.' Tim thinks to himself then suddenly he slowly feels weird, as if he's being judged intensely, Unfortunately and possibly even worse than how Damian judges him.

"You look like an overworked 9-5 office worker that has no paid vacations or time off for a student." the kid suddenly speaks out and it felt as though Tim had just been shot with a non-existent arrow of truth.

"Wha-" Tim tries to ask but the kid interrupts him before he could even start, "you should really get some sleep and maybe lessen your intake of Coffee... Ah right. Name's Danny by the way. Sorry. You just started staring at me so I couldn't help but state my opinion." The kid, or well... Danny said as he went back to playing Minecraft on his switch.

"I- it's... It's fine. I know I need sleep... All college students do- it's normal." Timothy just sighs and nods subtly, knowing full well this random kid is right.

Goddamit, the kid acts like Damian a bit too- and he has the typical black hair blue eyes appearance, possibly an orphan attitude. Tim continues to have a subtle Life Crisis in his head.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

'Such a weird person.' Danny thought to himself and chuckled softly.

He continues to play Minecraft with Tucker and Sam to Pass his time and so he doesn't go all deppreso mid-daylight. The amount of people entering the cafe was still... Concerning at the very least, now that the customers have heard Dante's voice... They started to call him the "Everything in one Package." Which was way worse than "Eye Candy" to be honest.

'Vlad would be confused and shocked.... I wonder how Ellie is doing.. hopefully not too bad....' Danny hums to himself as he made a gravesite ingame for Jazz to remember her by.

It has become tradition for these teens to make jazz a gravesite whenever they start a new world and they always made sure it's beautiful and colorful in a way Jazz would have liked it.

Danny smiled as he finished up the ingame Gravesite.

Although it hurts to see and do this every time, he still loves it because then he has something to remind him of her existence.

Her precious Existence as he likes to call it.

"I miss her so much..." He mutters to himself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"I'm so... Tired." Dante was plopped onto the couch lazily.

"I am scared to be an adult like you..." Danny just stared at Dante as he Begrudgingly sat back up from the couch to stretch his body and head to the kitchen to cook.

"I met a random older student today, we kinda talked. He called me adoption bait which was funny because technically I am considering V l a d." Danny laughed.

"Adoption Bait my ass, who would want to adopt a little messy homeless looking goblin." Dante just chuckled smugly and Danny Pouts. " I am not a homeless looking kid" he tries to defend himself "that's the thing you're most concerned about in my sentence?" Dante tucked his hair back into a tight Ponytail and let's it flow naturally like fire.

"I know I'm a goblin, it's just how I am." Danny proudly says and pats his chest and puffs it out with pride.

"Ofcourse you do... Ah right. Kiddo I have a surprise for you tomorrow. So make sure to get enough sleep today alright?" Dante kneels down to Danny's Height to speak to him properly.

Danny thinks for a second, "Sure! I like surprises!" Danny giggled nodded profusely in excitement.

"Good." Dante smiled softly, he loves it when Danny is happy. His core loves when Danny is also happy. A happy Danny is a happy Dante.

He wishes this could go on forever. Just Danny smiling and not screaming for his life in his nightmares.

My Arm is cold from writing this <33

Enjoy though.

[defectivevillain]

swimming with sharks

pairing: Sebastian Solace/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

summary: Unperturbed, Sebastian continues speaking. “I’d try to keep a low profile, if I were you,” he hums, still studying you with faux disinterest. It’s clear he doesn’t care to help you figure out this mess.

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns/physical descriptors are used.

word count: 3k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence and death, spoilers (concerning Sebastian's document, but nothing about the end of the game)

Expect canon divergence and non-compliance. You may have to suspend your disbelief a little bit. The pacing is also a bit faster than I'd like, but I didn't want this to rot in my drafts, so...

The title is from Sharks by Imagine Dragons because it fits Sebastian too damn well.

You’re not a good person. You know this—have been forced to accept it during your confinement. The crimes you committed are enough to justify your permanent captivity hidden away in an Urbanshade facility. 

But you didn’t realize just how expendable you are… until you’re forced into a dangerous expedition through the Hadal Blacksite. You’re only given two directives: secure the crystal and obtain any loose assets along the way. What this crystal is and why Urbanshade needs it are both details you’re not privy to. 

You try your best to make your way through the infinite winding labyrinth you find yourself in, but it’s only a matter of time before you’re meeting your untimely death. After all, you aren’t adequately briefed on any of the creatures that roam the halls. So when the overhead lights flicker and an angler comes barreling down the hall moments later, you can’t find a hiding place and you’re quickly incapacitated.

You don’t expect to open your eyes again and, at first, the room you find yourself in is dark enough for you to think they’re still closed. But then two aquamarine orbs pierce through the darkness. You squint and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. There’s a whisper of a laugh and suddenly, a grey hand is pushing a document across the surface in front of you. You stare down at it, looking at the displayed information regarding anglers. 

“Where am I?” You choke out, after numbly digesting the bits of information you just read. There’s no response from the being sharing this space with you. “Who are you?”

There’s a whisper of a laugh—a malicious cackle that doesn’t fail to send a shiver down your spine. Those bright blue eyes burn into your skin, and the light dangling above you swings in warning. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” It’s a decidedly masculine voice, laced with amusement at your expense. “Now, run along.”

You don’t have the time to say anything more, and when you blink, the unrelenting darkness morphs to reveal the submarine you first entered the Blacksite in. There’s no sign of the mysterious being from before.

You’re sent to stumble your way through the Blacksite once more, fighting to survive to aid an organization that has only shown you cruelty. Each time, you meet a painful demise and find yourself in that dark room with this creature that seems to enjoy your suffering. As you explore more, you learn more about the fauna that call the Blacksite home—and the elusive organization that has trapped you in this eternal cycle of labor. 

You haven’t officially met the creature yet. He alluded to the idea that you’ll interact soon, which makes you think that you have to get through a certain number of halls in the Blacksite. 

And finally, finally, you reach hall 51 on a run. There’s a single light casting light on a cabinet across the way. A vent on the nearby wall suddenly pops open and you hear a familiar voice beckoning you closer. You don’t hesitate to take the proffered path, crawling through the vent until you emerge to find yourself in a small room. There’s an assortment of flashlights, batteries, lanterns, and everything else you could need. 

And there’s an enormous creature, staring down at you with recognizable blue eyes. This must be the one who trades research with you. He has black short hair and a torso with arms, but that’s where the human resemblance ends. His arms are a pale grey and his lower half is a ginormous shark tail. He must be almost twice your height. 

“It’s rude to stare,” the creature chastises you. You attempt to drag your eyes away from his menacing tail. “Sebastian.” He explains, after seeing your bewildered face. “Welcome to my humble abode… friend.” It’s abundantly clear the nickname is spoken in jest. You are far from friends. 

You stare at him in disbelief, struck silent as he explains how he’ll get you resources in exchange for assets and research. As your eyes wander the room, your attention is captured by a long file emblazoned with a “CLASSIFIED” label in bold red lettering. 

“What’s that?” You can’t help but ask, curiosity piqued. 

“My file,” he responds dryly, as if this turn in conversation bores him. Either that… or he’s trying to throw you off the scent—convince you that it’s nothing special. But you’re not persuaded. You want to learn more about Sebastian. Is he friend or foe, ally or enemy? Maybe this file will have something on him—or, hell, something on Urbanshade. 

“How much is it?” You remember to ask. 

“A thousand,” Sebastian answers, looking at you skeptically. “I don’t do freebies, unfortunately.”

Annoyed at the unspoken insult, you place the required money on the table with a bit more force than necessary. He whistles, evidently impressed, and makes a lazy gesture towards the file. “It’s all yours. Just don’t be surprised when you learn you wasted your money.” He enunciates exaggeratedly.

Despite your heart thundering away in your chest, you can’t satiate your curiosity—and you decide to read through the file now. When you reach the end, you can’t help but stare up at him in disbelief. It’s impossible to read the expression on his face—as if you’re staring at a brick wall of emotionlessness. 

“Fascinating stuff, no?” The hybrid remarks sardonically. There’s a nearly imperceptible hint of an emotion in his voice, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. 

“You’re Z-13.” You realize aloud, a shiver rolling down your spine as you remember the broadcasts detailing the threat. 

“The one and only,” Sebastian grins, bowing theatrically. 

“There’s a kill order,” you recall, something uncomfortable settling in the pit of your stomach. “All operatives are supposed to ‘unload their mags until their fingers bleed’ if they see you.”

He smirks, his light flickering ominously. “Oh, you can certainly try. But we both know you won’t do it.” He is nothing but confident. “I’m the only reason you’ve lasted this long.”

“Maybe.” You acquiesce, the effort almost painful. It’s somewhat true: the research he provides you is rather helpful. Sebastian’s eyes snap towards you in clear surprise, before a twisted smile rises on his face. 

“You’re a strange one,” he muses, speaking detachedly as if you’re not even there. Then he blinks and looks at you with scrutiny. You resist the urge to wilt under his gaze and instead study the supplies he’s offering. If Sebastian is bothered by your obvious attempt at a subject change, he doesn’t show it. 

Twenty minutes later, you’re outfitted with all the gear you need. You cast one last glance at Sebastian before crawling back through the vent. “You’re forgetting something.” He says, stopping you in your tracks. You frown and go back to the room, before realizing that you didn’t take the keycard. Embarrassed, you grab it and leave again—pointedly ignoring his laughter as you go. 

For a while, these are the only moments when you’ll see Sebastian—other than when you die. He isn’t afraid to be biting and rude, admonishing you for your stupidity when you meet increasingly foolish ends. But it’s still a breath of fresh air to have some conversation—even when the other person is kind of an asshole. 

Your voyages through the Blacksite are getting tiring—and so is the unending cycle between life and death. You are never given even a second to breathe. Exhaustion is starting to become an accessory to your frequent runs. And that doesn’t go unnoticed by a certain hybrid. 

“You look terrible,” Sebastian remarks clinically after your rather embarrassing demise slipping through a pit in the floor. You feel weirdly self-conscious for a second, before you remind yourself that you shouldn’t care how he sees you. “It may be in your best interest to get some rest.” He tucks his hair behind his ear and you catch a quick glimpse of his third eye. 

“My best interest?” You can’t help but laugh wryly. “Since when do you care about anyone but yourself?” 

“Ah, you know me so well,” Sebastian says, gesturing lazily. “It’s true. I certainly don’t do friends… But I’m betting on your survival,” he remarks. “And if you die, you’ll owe me.” He looks at you pointedly. 

“You bet on me?” You ask disbelievingly. The next words are tumbling from your lips before you can stop them. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

There’s a harsh silence, before it’s broken by a startled laugh. “Fair enough,” Sebastian acquiesces with amusement. He taps his fingers against the table in restlessness. “It’s just so endlessly boring—waiting around for your demise.” 

“I’m so sorry my mortality is such an inconvenience to you,” you huff.  

“You should be,” Sebastian responds easily. You roll your eyes and he takes the file back, sending you an apathetic wave as you’re tugged from the room and back into the submarine’s metal walls. 

At some point, you realize you’ve started to feel strange. You get winded and out of breath rather easily; you’ve been fighting against a growing headache since your first few runs through the Blacksite; and there’s a strange puncture point on your arm. It must be from an angler, but you can’t quite remember when it got there. Every exploration is starting to blur together. There’s no way to tell the time when you’re traversing through the Blacksite, and Urbanshade doesn’t seem to care how disoriented you may be. All you know is that this puncture point on your arm isn’t healing, despite your other injuries healing immediately after your death. 

That pain certainly isn’t clearing your head or sharpening your senses. When you’re deposited from the Urbanshade submarine, you hardly make it to the thirtieth room before dying. You can’t bring yourself to feel anything but relieved. While you normally aren’t so macabre, you know you desperately need a break—even just a moment’s respite from the buzzing noise threatening to bury itself into your skin. Your adrenaline promptly crashes the moment you’re transported back to that god awful dark room once more, your vision blurring and sharpening with dizzying speed. Your heart is racing in your ears, and there’s a shrill ringing sound reverberating in your skull. “What the hell did you do?” Sebastian demands. Your vision is fading to black before you can respond. 

When you can finally fight off unconsciousness, you find yourself greeted with Sebastian’s unimpressed face staring down at you. “You’re one annoying fucker, you know that?” He remarks, leaning closer and looking strangely focused. You feel a familiar adhesive being wrapped around your forearm with surprising care. Then you remember just who is looming over you and you jolt up, very nearly crashing into Sebastian in the process. 

Sebastian dodges the unintentional assault, looking characteristically irritated. “And what was the purpose of that exercise, exactly?” He says sarcastically. 

You don’t bother answering, instead bringing a hand to your aching temple as a frown rises on your lips. Your temple is pulsating painfully, and the ringing sound refuses to quiet. Suddenly it’s as if you can hear far too much—the angler exploring the earlier halls in the distance, the hum of the electricity knitting the building together, and the water rushing out of a burst pipe in the room ahead. 

You attempt to get to your feet, only for your balance to topple as you lurch forward and catch yourself on the nearby desk. Your jaw hurts, and so do your cheekbones. Pain is thrumming through your teeth, and when you feebly bring a hand up to touch one, you find it far longer and sharper. The world is spinning around you for a long moment. Your chest is aching and when you bring a hand to your stinging neck, you find strange ripples reminiscent of gills. 

“Uh oh,” Sebastian remarks blandly. He moves closer and taps a finger to your forearm. Your attention captured, you blearily look down at your arm to find scales enmeshed in your skin. They glimmer in the dim light. “Looks like you’re more than just a human after all. Can’t say I’m too surprised; that would certainly explain why your death never seems to stick…” 

How in the fuck did this happen? You suppose it’s more than likely that you were exposed to dangerous materials and unidentified chemicals throughout your explorations through the Hadal Blacksite. But, from what you remember, Urbanshade likes to experiment on its prisoners with the DNA of other organisms. Is it possible that somehow happened to you too? It seems more likely (and realistic) to attribute this transformation to an angler’s bite. Usually, the anglers engulf you whole. If one had bitten you—and subsequently punctured your arm—it could’ve transferred some of its genetic material into your arm…? You have no idea. 

Unperturbed, Sebastian continues speaking. “I’d try to keep a low profile, if I were you,” he hums, still studying you with faux disinterest. It’s clear he doesn’t care to help you figure out this mess. “Monsters like us are catnip to those scientists.”

Monsters like us. You swallow past the taste of bile. 

“I’ll see if I can get you some protective clothing,” Sebastian continues, unaware (or perhaps just uncaring) of your internal crisis. “Maybe some gloves to hide your hands.” He looks pointedly at your hands and you follow his gaze, only to find lights blinking at the edges of your fingertips—reminiscent of an anglerfish’s lantern. 

You take a shuddering breath. None of this makes sense. But you’ll have to get used to it if you want to survive and get some answers. You take a few moments to collect your composure, before looking up at the hybrid. “…Thanks.” You suppose there’s something mildly comforting about how clinically Sebastian is handling all this—as if it’s no big deal. Maybe you’ll be okay. 

“Oh, don’t thank me yet, sweetheart,” Sebastian leers in response, a devilish smirk rising on his lips. “Everything I provide comes with a price.” His tail swishes and you feel goosebumps rise along your arms. The more you talk to Sebastian, the more he confuses you. One moment, he’s eager to help you; the next, he’s cackling at your demise. Is he friend or foe? You’re no closer to finding the answer to that particular query. With that recognition, you sigh and read over the file detailing the cause of your death—before you’re transported to the Blacksite once more. 

In the advent of your… transformation… Sebastian’s attitude changes. It’s almost an imperceptible switch, but you swear he seems a bit more patient with you now. His sarcastic remarks are more lighthearted and he almost seems to be on your side. Almost. 

And with your continued explorations, you start getting farther into the building. Soon you’re getting to Sebastian’s shop on every run… and nearing door 100. The first time you make it to the crystal and attempt to return safely, you’re accosted by a Squiddle—and then an angler, because life is never simple. You open your eyes to find Sebastian snorting in laughter, mocking you for how close you were to a successful mission. You grit your teeth and bear the brunt of his taunting, knowing you’re improving. 

The next time you get to the crystal, you’re prepared. You catalog the locations of nearby lockers, making sure you’re always within a short distance of one. You only use your black light to illuminate your path, which doesn’t irritate the Squiddles. You take your time moving through the seemingly endless halls, routinely interrupted by the anglers. After an immeasurable amount of time, the doors are swinging open and you’ve successfully secured the crystal. You close your eyes and breathe a sigh of relief, waiting for the welcome feeling of sunlight on your skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been to the surface. 

Instead, you’re met with a gratingly familiar darkness and the sound of sarcastic clapping. Your blood runs cold. “Well done… Well done.” Sebastian says. There’s a note of triumph in his voice, and you’re not quite deluded enough to attribute it to your success. 

“Why-?” You choke out, your tongue feeling glued to the roof of your mouth. You got the crystal and you completed your mission… Why are you still here? 

“Oh, that look on your face!” Sebastian grins, leaning forward until he’s uncomfortably close. You feel like a bug under a microscope. Your heart is racing in your chest as you try to comprehend just what he’s not saying. “Priceless, truly. You really think Urbanshade gives two shits about you?” He sneers. “About us? No.”

Your heart is stuck in your throat. Sure, your status as an “Expendable” is far from flattering, but you had assumed there would be some sort of reward for securing the crystal. Was that too optimistic? Judging from the sneer on Sebastian’s face, it was. “You’re stuck here. Forever.” Sebastian’s eyes gleam dangerously. 

Nausea climbs up your throat. Admittedly, you’re not as surprised as you should be. But the fact of the matter is that Sebastian’s utterance of those words has ushered in a whole new sense of reality. Before, you may have idly suspected it; now, you’re forced to reconcile with your eternal responsibility to act for an organization that views you as nothing more than expendable. The thought is sickening. 

“We’ve stalled long enough,” Sebastian interjects calmly, as if he hasn’t just destroyed your entire world. “Any longer and they’ll get suspicious.” His eyes flit to some unknown point behind you. There’s a tense silence for several seconds, before his voice breaks through it. “See you soon.” You can almost detect a hint of genuine emotion in his voice (something frighteningly close to pity). But then he’s smirking and you’re abandoning the thought. “Good luck.” 

You’re then swallowed by the darkness once more—and left to haunt the halls of the Blacksite until you inevitably see Sebastian again.

we all knew i'd get here. come on now. 💀

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[whumpback-wail]

03 - More Questions than Answers

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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Her hair seems longer spread around her pillow like this.

Wriothesley mused, his thumb and index finger playing with her locks. After (y/n)'s panic attack, he was told that it's better to sit somewhere she can see him, and to have the lights on. The next time she wakes up, he would be able to ground and reassure her that she's no longer in danger.

His eyes watched the curve of her nose, and the lashes that twitched ever so slightly as she slowly regained consciousness. He stroked comforting circles along the baby hair that grows close to her forehead.

His heart seemed to skip a beat when he saw her eyes slowly open, blinking a few times before her eyes focused on him. She has such beautiful eyes, he mused to himself, but then felt a pang of hurt when she involuntarily flinched from him.

"Good morning, (y/n)."

"Wrio-" (y/n) coughed

Wriothesley grabbed the glass of water on the bedside and helped her drink.

After he laid her back down, (y/n) was dazedly blinking at him, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

"A-am I dead?" (y/n) started, looking down at her body which was tucked underneath the blanket, a hand that wasn't held down by the IV went to touch her face, 

"Is this.. real?"

He took her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. "You're alive (y/n), and this is real. You're safe with me now, no one's gonna hurt you anymore, not on my watch."

(y/n) nodded, as if still processing his words.

Wriothesley wanted so badly to gather her in his arms and kiss her on her lips. She was all bandaged up, and her hair stuck up on some areas due to the pillow, but in his eyes she had never looked more pretty. He cleared her throat. The nurses would be against such actions, for fear that too much physical contact would trigger another panic attack.

"I should get the nurse, tell her you're awake." He stood up, lightly squeezing her hand. She only nodded, still eyeing him as if he would suddenly disappear into thin air.

Soon enough, the nurse came in. It was a middle aged woman with grey hair. She smiled at (y/n), "good afternoon, my name is Komaki, can you tell me your name?"

A pause.

1102.

"I'm... (y/n)"

Nurse Komaki smiled hearing her response, her eyes glued on her charts, "how old are you?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Where are you right now?"

(y/n) paused and looked around. She could clearly see her room now that the lights are on. While it was clearly a hospital, it was not the same one as... wherever it was with doctor Arderne. She shivered.

"I-in a hospital?"

"Which city?"

(y/n)'s eyes locked with Wriothesley's, who had been silently watching from the doorway. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Fontaine I think."

Nurse Komaki smiled, "very good!"

Turning to Wriothesley, she nodded to him. "I'll keep checking her memory, and I'll need to do a physical examination of her vitals and wounds. If you don't mind, sir?" She tugged at the privacy curtains around her bed. Wriothesley got the message.

"I'll go uh... walk around." He nodded at nurse Komaki, and promptly left.

(y/n) is awake at last. A new wave of nervousness swept over him. He was almost afraid of the results of her checks. What if she lost her memories? Her feelings for him and his for her? What if she had no recollection of the time they spent together? Chlorinde and Aether still couldn't find her vision aside from the metal bit, so what if...

He pushed the thoughts out of his head. In any case, he has some important matters to attend to.

• • •

Wriothesley rolled his shoulders, feeling a bit sore from sleeping on the couch for multiple nights in a row. He stayed there despite the urges from everyone, telling him to go home and sleep in his bed, only leaving occasionally to help with the investigation and get a quick shower. He didn’t mind the hospital meals. As long as it nourished him, he didn't care what food was served. The tea, however, was terrible, and he started to miss his office in the Fortress of Meropide.

Walking briskly, he found himself standing before Monsieur Neuvilette’s office doors, which he promptly pushed open. Neuvilette, who was seated behind his desk, nodded towards him in greeting, along with Navia, who Neuvilette hired to help in the investigation.

“So you had updates?” Wriothesley skipped the pleasantries, noticing the two’s somber expressions. He sat on the unoccupied chair beside Navia.

“Yes.” Navia handed him a file.

“We went back to the building where (y/n) was kept. As we all guessed, it was a facility used for human experimentation, under Dr Arderne.”

Wriothesley winced at the name. How could he not notice anything about the man? Arderne has been under his nose all this time in Meropide, that is… until he escaped and took (y/n) with him. But even so, he was a great Doctor while he served his sentence in Meropide, he was in his best behaviour that Wriothesley overlooked him.

Neuvilette leaned forward, “We also found some tapes and files on the things they do there. They have files for everyone, including (y/n).”

This made Wriothesley frown. “What was in it?”

Neuvilette and Navia shared a knowing look with each other, before turning to Wriothesley with sympathetic looks. Neuvilette gestured at the file handed to Wriothesley, “Hers was not complete, some data were taken by the accused party. But in general, they did… a lot of experimentation on her. Something no one should have to endure.”

Wriothesley opened the file and flipped through the papers, the voice of Neuvilette and Navia sinking to the background as he read through the pages.

Subject 1102.

Log 01

Subject 1102 is aggressive, and would not stop fighting the doctors. Despite the restraints used, Subject 1102 refused to take any treatment from the facility. She will be subject to two weeks in the padded room with one meal per two days to treat her aggression.

Treat. He knew it was another word for “to break her spirit”. Wriothesley gritted his teeth and continued.

Log 09

Subject 1102 was severely weakened after the padded room, but still refused to cooperate. Dr Arderne now personally handles her. He reports that for a higher chance of success on vision tests, the subject has to be physically weakened-

• • •

Returning to the hospital  his head swam with the new information. Navia said she will continue to investigate  but they would also need information from (y/n) and the doctors.

Damn the missing files.

He swore to himself that he would get to the bottom of this, hopefully without the need to ask (y/n) herself.

First he spoke with Nurse Komaki, who told him (y/n) didn't seem to have any brain damage, at least not on her memories. She thought this was weird considering how (y/n)'s vision was missing, normally people with their visions taken would lose their memories, their sense of self, and their drive to achieve what they wished for in the first place.

Other than that, her physical wounds were healing nicely. The melusine healers had done a great job at helping her recover.

He thanked Komaki, and proceeded to walk towards her room. Where he knew his fiancé was probably, hopefully, awaiting his return.

(y/n) wanted to go home. She never liked hospitals, and after what… happened, she felt herself hate it even more. She felt constantly on edge, especially after Nurse Komaki left to check on her other patients. The nurse did not say anything to her about her results, but the puzzled look on her face says a lot. Something is not quite right. Wriothesley was not back yet, but she knew he will return, right? She could trust him. If he said that she’s safe, and that this wasn’t a dream, then she should be okay, right? The walls felt like it was closing in on her.

It’s okay, youre safe now, breathe (y/n), breathe.

Despite her efforts, she felt panic rising. The feeling of the sheets against her skin felt too much. The ticking of the clock too loud. Why are the walls so white? Everything looked too bright. Pain. Pain. Pain. No more please- she couldn't let her thoughts drift back there-

The door opened, and Wriothesley’s figure appeared promptly.

(y/n) was not sure what expression she was making, but Wriothesley’s smile morphed into concern.

“(y/n), are you okay?”

“I- I’m safe, right? You trust this hospital?”

Wriothesley was instantly by her side, “May I touch you (y/n)?”

(y/n) hesitantly reached out and pulled his sleeve closer to her. Taking this as a sign, he brought her closer for a hug.

“You’re safe now, (y/n), your room is watched over by Navia’s men, remember? Spina di Rosula. They are very capable, and they will not leave their post unless told otherwise.”

“They’re not going to get me again right?”

Wriothesley kissed the top of her head. “Never. I’ll make sure you stay by my side, sweetheart.”

(y/n) froze. Sweetheart.

Deep breaths. You’re safe, it’s just Wriothesley, it’s not-

“Rise and shine, sweetheart” a kick to her ribs, “you’ve stayed in this boring old padded room long enough, don’t you think? Ready to cooperate with me now?”

“...Go to hell, Arderne.”

“Looks like you still have some fight left in you huh?” Arderne bent down and grabbed a fistful of her hair, "maybe some electro-slime therapy would work better-"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" (y/n) screamed, her leg connected with Wriothesey's stomach, making him stumble backward, wincing. Hearing the outburst, the two men stationed outside burst into the room. Wriothesley signalled to them that there is no danger  and the two went back outside. He made a mental note to thank Navia again later.

"(y/n)," he groaned, slowly making his way back to her, "it's not real, you're safe."

He watched her helplessly as she continued to hyperventilate, her eyes glued on to jim but ay the same time, seeing nothing. She' having another flashback, but why? Was it something he said?

"Sweetheart-"

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she curled further into a ball, shivering.

"I- Please no more. I can't-"

It finally clicked. So they had been calling her sweetheart there huh… Wriothesley felt anger bubble up. It was how he always called her, a term of endearment. How dare they taint that.

He took another step closer, "(y/n) please come back to me. It's Wriothesley. You're in Fontaine's hospital, guarded by the Spina di Rosula. You're safe here with me."

Blue eyes met hers, and he noticed how her eyes seemed to slowly focus back on him. He took that as a good sign.

"Yeah, no one will hurt you anymore. I promise."

A few seconds of silence.

"...Wriothesley?"

"Yes darling, it's me."

"I'm… what?"

"You had a panic attack (y/n), you were screaming," Wriothesley took another step. "May I come closer? Please?"

(y/n) silently opened her arms for a hug  and Wriothesley took the invitation as a yes. "I'm sorry Wrio, I don't know what happened." she mumbled against his chest.

"Sshh don't be," he kissed her forehead, "it' not your fault okay? Your brain is just having some horrible flashbacks."

A few moments of silence fell over the two, with Wriothesley rubbing comforting circles on her shoulder.

(y/n) hesitated. "can you… stay with me for the night? Like this?"

"Of course, anything for you, love." Wriothesley shifted them both so that they both could fit comfortably in the small hospital bed. Rules be damned. He wanted to make sure (y/n) feels safe through the night.

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(´-ω-`( _ _ )

A/N

A long one this chapter, it was one of those moments where I start writing with a plan A in mind but the characters decided plan B. For now it's just everyone being confused, but there will be more answers in the next chapter!

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblr

[shivamtripathisstuff]

'' Being healthy is a mental process ''

2yrs back I was going through various health issues like getting fever on an average every month, typhoid, backbone problems, headaches, obesity etc.

My family was troubled by my health conditions, running from doctor to doctor, doing this test that test! , paying expensive bills, the main reason for my health issues what people around me (my family and friends ) think was fast food which I love so much It is true! I ate fast food, even after recovering from my fever but the main reason is something else and the most interesting part of my journey of being a healthy person which I will tell you in the last, this process continues till April 20, 2023, 11 am when I got heatstroke and my heart rates go up 190rbpm it's very dangerous, suddenly I wake up from my bed felt my body is getting lighter and lighter and my heart was like pumping machine with its full speed my family and mother was crying because I was acting abnormally and crying I was like ab toh mar jaunga saw my whole life in just one sec! my maternal uncle immediately take me to the hospital even a doctor was shocked! when he heard that I had 190rbpm he said thanks to god he is alive right now, I was admitted there for 2 days they said that my immunity system got very weak which is why I was facing these serious health issues.

After I reached home had complete bed rest for 2 to 3 days at that time I was a cat aspirant preparing for the MBA cat exam, so I could not take many days to rest, after this level of serious health problem I again started my same schedule of eating fast food and just after 2 months I again got high fever 104degree Celsius my body was burning and continuously I was getting taunt and scolding from my family of eating fast food that day what we call D-Day of my healthy life begun I was at the local doctor clinic, the doctor said that your immune system has got very weak its a case of do or die situation he said if you continuously eat fast food without any physical workout then it will tough for you to get alive, do some at least small workout like PT steps this line literally I am saying to you it goes in my subconscious mind and from that movement I had one mindset and believe is that ''if will not do exercise then I will suffer from fever''

So basically what you can observe from above believe is that I cleared my ''WHY '' which is the title of this post-MENTAL PROCESS and which you read and listen to in many great books like THINK AND GROW RICH, POWER OF SUBCONSCIOUS MIND ETC.

Now it's been 1yr since I have had no health issues in fact my health has improved, got muscles, improved my immune system.

Now even though I can eat as much fast food as I had in my previous days I will not suffer from any health issues because;

I got my WHY (that exercise nhi karunga toh bimar padh jaunga).

And I will show you proof of clearing your WHY and mindset strength

by image.

Hope this will encourage you to have good health as the saying goes health is the biggest success.

THANKYOU.

[jamsmemes]

(     *     DOOM: ANNIHILATION PROMPTS   !    

feel free to change pronouns / details as needed  !

❛ you’ve gotta be kidding me. ❜

❛ don’t be jealous. ❜

❛ you got a lucky pair of undies? what makes them lucky? ❜

❛ wouldn’t you love to find out? ❜

❛ you look good. ❜

❛ this is sort of a promotion for me. ❜

❛ we are violating the laws of physics. ❜

❛ is all this information gonna be on the test? ❜

❛ so, what’s the danger? ❜

❛ you fucked up. ❜

❛ do i make myself clear? ❜

❛ come on, move your ass. ❜

❛ in order to fight the enemy, you gotta stop fighting yourself. ❜

❛ i’m the one who should be nervous, not you. ❜

❛ i wanna be with you, i wanna come home. ❜

❛ it’s good to see you. ❜

❛ what’s the problem? ❜

❛ we have an urgent developing situation. ❜

❛ i thought you’ve never been here before. ❜

❛ what the fuck is that? ❜

❛ ugh. not this again. ❜

❛ they are gonna rue the day they fuck with me. ❜

❛ you got your toy, i got mine. ❜

❛ something’s wrong? ❜

❛ it’s like a tomb. ❜

❛ who the fuck designed this place? ❜

❛ if you’re about to say what i think you’re gonna say, i’m gonna shoot you in the face. ❜

❛ where are we going? ❜

❛ where the fuck is everybody? ❜

❛ found a body. he’s one of ours. ❜

❛ how can i help you? ❜

❛ through wrath will come justice. ❜

❛ no escape this time. ❜

❛ this doesn’t make any sense. ❜

❛ we’ve got to be close. let’s keep looking. ❜

❛ i thought i saw something. ❜

❛ identify yourself. ❜

❛ show me your hands! ❜

❛ what the fuck is that? ❜

❛ we’re safe now. you’re gonna be just fine. ❜

❛ what’s going on? ❜

❛ are you fucking crazy? ❜

❛ that’s what i’m trying to tell you. ❜

❛ we have a situation. ❜

❛ we need to get out of here! ❜

❛ we need to find the others. ❜

❛ fuck this, i’m too young to die! ❜

❛ get back here! ❜

❛ let’s go. come on. i got you. ❜

❛ are they gone? ❜

❛ i’m not playing anymore! ❜

❛ nice shooting. ❜

❛ i deserved that. ❜

❛ there’s something you’re not telling us. ❜

❛ i fucking knew it! ❜

❛ you’re alive! thank god! you’re here. ❜

❛ will you please try again? ❜

❛ well, i can’t just sit here. ❜

❛ i’m sorry, but i can’t let you leave. ❜

❛ what do you mean, you can’t let me leave? ❜

❛ no one’s allowed to leave. ❜

❛ you will reveal whatever i damn well ask you to reveal. ❜

❛ if the human race wants to live on, it has to find a new home. ❜

❛ it doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure it out. ❜

❛ don’t be ridiculous. ❜

❛ this was just a setback. ❜

❛ did you just call what happened today a setback? ❜

❛ this is not your decision. ❜

❛ i will not allow it! ❜

❛ faith costs nothing. ❜

❛ any chance i can get something to drink? ❜

❛ can you open the door? ❜

❛ what are you looking for? maybe i can be of assistance. ❜

❛ get out of the way! ❜

❛ stay with me. ❜

❛ you said you couldn’t remember. ❜

❛ we’re stuck here. ❜

❛ i didn’t ask for your life story. ❜

❛ thanks, but no thanks. ❜

❛ when we don’t report back, they’ll send a rescue party. ❜

❛ if we’re gonna die, i would rather go down fighting. ❜

❛ i might not be a scientist, but i’m not an idiot. ❜

❛ that’s not exactly how it happened. ❜

❛ i’m sure you’ve got your side of the story. ❜

❛ we all make mistakes. i certainly do. ❜

❛ i never said that. ❜

❛ i remember everything. ❜

❛ you have your orders. i have mine. ❜

❛ this place is enormous. ❜

❛ let’s go get this son of a bitch. ❜

❛ what are they gonna do, sue me? ❜

❛ i ignored the order, thinking i knew best, thinking i could be a hero. ❜

❛ you’ve overcome so much in your life, you can overcome this. ❜

❛ i’ve never heard you curse before. ❜

❛ someone found a shiny new toy. ❜

❛ what i thought was punishment turned out to be my salvation. ❜

❛ you can’t kill what’s already dead. ❜

❛ humans. is there anything more pathetic? ❜

❛ have faith that in your darkest moment you won’t be alone. ❜

❛ where am i? ❜

❛ i just wanna check your condition. ❜

❛ i’m fine. i could use a drink. ❜

❛ how, may i ask, did you end up here? ❜

❛ you need to shut this down. ❜

❛ did you hear what i fucking said? ❜

❛ what are you doing? ❜

❛ we are gonna look after you. ❜

[richonnelvr218]

What Makes Richonne Special

Throughout the day, mostly when things calm down at work or out of the blue at home, Richonne will come to my mind.  I might see an apple or the weather reporter might say East, and I will smile and my heart will swell, and I will feel happy.  Richonne make me happy. Why do I react to them in this way?  Why are they so special?  I have many couples that I love to pieces, but none like Richonne.  I don’t think of my other couples out the blue.  The other couples are not a daily part of my life, but my Richonne are always with me.  I watch Richonne scenes every single day.  I have not stopped watching The Ones Who Live since the first episode aired.  I am a true blue down in the deep Richonne fan, and I knew they were special from the moment they met at the fence.  

Why were they special from that moment? 

Because Danai and Andy have amazing chemistry? It is that.  They certainly do have insanely intense chemistry.  But, it was also more.

A few days ago, I saw a clip, one I hadn't seen before, of Danai talking about how Richonne got together and when they were filming Clear she thought it could happen. Clear was big for Richonne, but their meeting at the end of Hounded, S3x6, was when Richonne truly started because that’s the moment that changed them. That was the moment they saw each other. 

Think of the word “hounded”.  It means to pursue with or as if with hounds.  To pursue. I like that.  Was hounded not what they were by people or ghosts all episode? Indeed they were.  But at the end of this episode their pursuits end.  They found something they needed. Their safest place.  Their person. 

Both Danai and Andy, as well as others, have said Richonne finally saw each other on the couch and it clicked.  I can accept that.  They saw each other in that “It’s Always Been You” light.  But guess what? That's always been the case.

Why are Richonne so special?  I;m talking about infinitely more special than any couple I have shipped and loved prior to and after discovering them?  Again, I love my other couples, but when I compare them to Richonne, there is no comparison. It’s like comparing a pack of crackers to a five course meal.  It's all food, but not at all the same.

The truth is when Richonne met they truly saw each other.  They saw in each other that something inside themselves they didn't see, maybe didn't want to see, but knew was there.  Inside them. Hounding them.  Danger, fear, and determination to live and protect those they love at any cost. To not go back to that dark, isolating place they enter when they cannot protect those they love. The place each were when they met. They looked at one another and saw themselves. Someone frightening but not. Someone dangerous, but not.  Someone hurting with a hurt they each recognized.  Rick had been shot and Michonne was newly shot. Rick had just lost Lori and Michonne had lost Andre and Mike.  

Grief and Pain.  Physical and emotional trauma. And they saw that and more in each other. I go so far as to say they saw their future, too.

In Clear, Rick allowed Carl, his baby boy, to go off with Michonne.  A woman he had known all of  about five days. A woman who carried a katana and had no hesitation in using it.  Yet, Rick trusted her with his most precious thing.  His first born. His son.  In Clear, Richonne bonded.  Michonne opened herself to Rick, shared some of herself, and Rick appreciated that. Even made an attempt at a joke by saying he saw things. 

In Clear, Rick already trusted her, because he knew her. He saw her.  He saw her at the fence.  He saw himself inside her at the fence.  

He saw himself inside her at the fence.  

There was no pun intended with that sentence, but there is double truth in it.  Richonne were connected at the fence.  Roughly nine months later, they were connected in body.  Rick was truly inside Michonne in all ways, and that connection solidified, melded their soulmate bond.  That heat, that passion, that love sealed their forever fate. 

Richonne saw each other at the fence.  All the hurts, pains, fears, every unspeakable thing they don't need to speak, they see everything in each other.  More, they accept it without question, and make no attempts to change it.  They are each other.  He is her and she is him.  They are indeed one half of a whole.  Two pieces that make one. They are a perfect fit. 

Richonne love each other. They truly love every single thing about each other, and there's nothing either could ever do to change that.  It's fact, truth, gospel, it's everything.  That's why Richonne are so special.  They are the definition of ride or die. Through any and everything, they are there for each other.  They are an unbreakable bond. 

That's why they are like no other couple.  They understand each other on a level no one else could ever understand.  They accept each other without question.  They speak their own language.  They speak without words. They see each other.  They are connected. They are love. They are Richonne.

[luvvictoria]

Our Special Day

( ♡ ) pairing : Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , Christian Orthodox wedding, idk bro

( ♡ ) a/n ✏️ : I just cried while thinking about this omg

The morning sunlight filtered through the large, stained-glass windows of the church, casting colorful beams across the intricately carved wooden pews. You stood before a mirror, heart pounding, adjusting the delicate veil atop your head. The heavy satin of your wedding dress shimmered in the light, and your reflection showed a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Outside, the sacred space of the Orthodox church waited for you. Candles flickered gently on tall golden holders, while the air carried a soft scent of incense, symbolizing purification and spiritual devotion. A choir softly sang hymns in the background, their voices harmonizing to create an ethereal atmosphere.

The grand doors of the church slowly opened as you took a deep breath, stepping inside on your father’s arm. All eyes turned toward you, but your gaze was locked on one person: Gojo Satoru. Standing tall in his ceremonial black suit and white tie, his usual cocky smirk was softened by an almost reverent expression. His white hair was neatly combed back, but his signature blindfold was gone, allowing his striking blue eyes to catch yours. His gaze held a depth of emotion you rarely saw from him —love, pride, and a flicker of mischief.

As you approached the altar, Gojo met you halfway, taking your hand in his, his touch warm and grounding. The priest, dressed in traditional Orthodox vestments, began the ceremony with a prayer in ancient tones, invoking blessings upon your union.

The crowning ceremony, a key part of Orthodox weddings, came next. A beautiful, ornate crown was placed gently on your head, and then one on Gojo’s. You could feel the weight of it, not just physically, but symbolically — the responsibility and sacredness of the bond you were forging. Gojo gave you a wink, as if to lighten the moment, but you could tell he was equally moved by the gravity of it.

As the priest led you both in a circle three times around the altar, symbolizing the eternal nature of marriage, Gojo squeezed your hand just a little tighter. You glanced up at him, and he mouthed, “You look stunning.” Despite the solemnity of the moment, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

Finally, after the sacred prayers, the priest invited you to exchange your vows. Gojo’s voice was low but clear, his usual playful demeanor tempered by sincerity.

“ I vow to stand by your side through every storm, every trial, and every moment of chaos. No matter what comes our way, I’ll face it with you. My love for you is boundless, stronger than any curse or darkness in this world. I promise to protect you, not just with my strength, but with all of my heart and soul, for as long as I draw breath. You are my light, and I will cherish you, forever. ”

Tears pricked your eyes. Your heart swelled as Gojo’s words wrapped around you, filled with love and devotion. With a deep breath, you spoke, your voice soft but steady.

“I have no doubt that life with you will be anything but ordinary, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. You’ve shown me what it means to feel safe and loved, even in the face of danger. I vow to be your strength when you need it, to stand beside you no matter how dark things may get. I will love you fiercely, with all that I am, for every moment of this life and whatever comes after. You are my home, and I will protect and cherish that, always.”

With a blessing, the priest signaled the conclusion of the ceremony, and Gojo leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell. The church erupted in applause, the joy of the moment washing over you both.

As you turned to walk down the aisle, now husband and wife, Gojo’s arm wrapped securely around your waist. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice teasing yet full of affection.

“Let’s see if you can handle being Mrs. Gojo. It won’t be easy.”

You laughed softly, your heart soaring. With him, you knew every day would be an adventure — but it was one you were ready to embrace. Together.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

So here I am, unable to sleep again, because of the horrifying attack on Israel.

The stories keep coming out and for every new detail I find out, another part of my soul shatters.

[***massive trigger warning for the rest***]

I feel like I'm living in a parallel world to everyone who is not affected by this situation. It's been surreal to go about my work day and regular life as if the images of blood-soaked cradles, burned corpses, raped and wounded women, captives of all ages being taken away on vehicles, video of a small child being taunted for crying for his mother, body bags lined up in rows on the ground, torched cars and homes, and the raw grief of the surviving family members aren't burned onto the backs of my eyelids.

One account I read from a family member of the deceased was that she was beaten, raped in multiple ways and sticks shoved into each place, and left for dead. Another I came across spoke of a small child being forced to watch his parents tortured, killed, and hacked apart. Still another I saw was a report of several children bludgeoned to death so as not to "waste the bullets."

How can I possibly begin to process this?

These people look just like the people in my communities and the friends I've made across the sea. They have my Hebrew teacher's hair, my rabbi's cheekbones, they sound like the shinshinim kids we have each year. They look like the baby nephews of my fellow congregants. I could have davened next to any of them and never known. It is only sheer dumb luck that I don't personally know someone who has died or lost close family.

There has been a pit of dread in my stomach since Shimini Atzeret that will not go away. I find myself on the verge of tears at all times, yet have not been able to actually cry (which is not a good sign; an inability to express sadness in tears is a known post-trauma response for me) and I cannot rest normally. Sometimes I can distract myself for a bit, but the pain and grief rush back in immediately when I remember.

I can feel, in real time, this Jewish cultural trauma sinking into my bones.

And you might think I might be able to separate myself from it since I'm not there and don't have family there. But I can't, because I don't want to. I can't, because some tether bound me forever to the land as soon as my feet hit the ground there, and some part of my soul stayed behind when I left. I don't want to, because these are my people and so they are my adoptive family, even if I do not know them. I am my brother's keeper.

And so here I stand, half a world away from the danger, nervous and scared and grieving, searching our perfectly blue sky for signs of missiles that are not falling here and being startled constantly by the normal and unbroken landscape. The lush beauty of Midwestern autumn woods is juxtaposed in my mind with Middle Eastern walls painted in the blood of my people and their broken bodies beneath them. I see it in the waking light of day as clear as anything in front of me, and walk around like a person divided, in both places at once yet not being fully present in either. I cannot unsee it.

How can I possibly explain this? To myself? To the people actually having to live this nightmare? To the other people removed from the immediate physical danger but who do have blood relatives and/or other family there that they're just praying stay safe and come home at the end of the day? That they are constantly checking their phones for updates or even minimal signs that they're still alive?

The words fail me, but I the closest thing I have to an answer is love. I love my people and I would rather absorb this pain with them and carry it in my soul forever than look away from Jewish suffering. That is a promise I made by joining this people, that my fate would forever be bound up in the collective fate of klal Yisrael. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you stay, I will stay; your people shall be my people, and your G-d my G-d. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus and more may Hashem do to me if anything but death parts me from you.

אַל־תִּפְגְּעִי־בִ֔י לְעׇזְבֵ֖ךְ לָשׁ֣וּב מֵאַחֲרָ֑יִךְ כִּ֠י אֶל־אֲשֶׁ֨ר תֵּלְכִ֜י אֵלֵ֗ךְ וּבַאֲשֶׁ֤ר תָּלִ֙ינִי֙ אָלִ֔ין עַמֵּ֣ךְ עַמִּ֔י וֵאלֹהַ֖יִךְ אֱלֹהָֽי׃ בַּאֲשֶׁ֤ר תָּמ֙וּתִי֙ אָמ֔וּת וְשָׁ֖ם אֶקָּבֵ֑ר כֹּה֩ יַעֲשֶׂ֨ה יְהֹוָ֥ה לִי֙ וְכֹ֣ה יוֹסִ֔יף כִּ֣י הַמָּ֔וֶת יַפְרִ֖יד בֵּינִ֥י וּבֵינֵֽךְ׃

[רות א]

I do not take that lightly, and I feel it in my bones. Some core part of me shattered at the same time as the rest of my community.

I cannot, and I will not look away. I will not close my heart or shield myself from this tragedy. And I will not forget.

עַ֥ל נַהֲר֨וֹת ׀ בָּבֶ֗ל שָׁ֣ם יָ֭שַׁבְנוּ גַּם־בָּכִ֑ינוּ בְּ֝זׇכְרֵ֗נוּ אֶת־צִיּֽוֹן׃ עַֽל־עֲרָבִ֥ים בְּתוֹכָ֑הּ תָּ֝לִ֗ינוּ כִּנֹּרוֹתֵֽינוּ׃ כִּ֤י שָׁ֨ם שְֽׁאֵל֪וּנוּ שׁוֹבֵ֡ינוּ דִּבְרֵי־שִׁ֭יר וְתוֹלָלֵ֣ינוּ שִׂמְחָ֑ה שִׁ֥ירוּ לָ֝֗נוּ מִשִּׁ֥יר צִיּֽוֹן׃ אֵ֗יךְ נָשִׁ֥יר אֶת־שִׁיר־יְהֹוָ֑ה עַ֝֗ל אַדְמַ֥ת נֵכָֽר׃ אִֽם־אֶשְׁכָּחֵ֥ךְ יְֽרוּשָׁלָ֗͏ִם תִּשְׁכַּ֥ח יְמִינִֽי׃ תִּדְבַּֽק־לְשׁוֹנִ֨י ׀ לְחִכִּי֮ אִם־לֹ֢א אֶ֫זְכְּרֵ֥כִי אִם־לֹ֣א אַ֭עֲלֶה אֶת־יְרוּשָׁלַ֑͏ִם עַ֝֗ל רֹ֣אשׁ שִׂמְחָתִֽי׃

[תהלים קלז]

[miaountainmama]

heaven

characters: chuuya, gn!reader contains: endless yearning

wc: 1360

a/n: yes this is based off of the new mitski song

He was never much of a coffee drinker.

Today was different, apparently. He needed the caffeine, he said, and you wasted no time in brewing him a cup using the sparsely used machine in the corner of the kitchen, yawning in the early morning darkness. He insisted that he could do it himself, but he did enough for you. You could, at the very least, help him in small ways.

He entered the kitchen just as you were pouring it out for him. The dark liquid flowed from pot to cup like the low curses that flowed from his mouth, cursing Mori for bringing him in so early, cursing Mori for making him leave you.

Now, in the emptiness of your shared flat, you pick up the still half-full cup, long abandoned, and swirl the dark liquid around. It’s still warm, barely, and you take a sip, chasing after any residual taste of him.

The cup clinks quietly as you bring it to the sink and place it on the counter, not quite washing it yet— a reminder that he had been there. And you did as you always did when this happened, when he left you early, before your own work took you, while his presence still lingered like the bitter coffee on your tongue: you curl around the empty space in the bed, the sheets still mussed, bending around his shape as if he was still really there.

The day came and went, the imprint of him ever clear in your mind, and as you came home from work, the thought of him adjusted into such stark focus that it was almost painful. He had told you that with him, you would never have to work a day in your life, but you refused, wanting at least some semblance of independence. You knew it was well within his means, but still, you insisted. Once again: help in small ways. 

You hurriedly dig through your bag for your keys as you approach the door, eager to see him, but as you kick off your shoes in the hallway, you are struck with the sound of nothing, the sight of darkness. Nothing but the rain on the windows and the occasional flash of lightning.

Of course, you thought bitterly. Mori was a slave driver.

Putting your stuff on the counter, you pour yourself a drink, using the cup from the morning. If you couldn’t have him physically, you could at least pretend.

The cushions of the couch dip down as you climb onto them, flicking on the low, warm light of the lamp beside it, and settle in for what would probably be a long night of waiting, nothing but your book to keep you company. You wouldn’t lie to yourself and say it wasn’t a lonely life, this routine. But you would endure it. If not for yourself, then for him. 

You’re nearly falling asleep by the time the lock clicks, the sound of raindrops lulling you to slumber. Immediately, you awaken, a rush of energy surging through you, and you hastily put aside your drink and bookmark your page, throwing the book on the coffee table haphazardly.

Chuuya has barely any time to put his hat aside before he’s in your arms, chuckling lightly as you meet him in the doorway.

“Hey,” you murmur, smiling slightly, and he moves his head to press a kiss to your neck, swaying with you gently.

“Hey,” he returns, and you separate from him reluctantly, allowing him time to get situated and step into your flat. You catch his gaze lingering on you as you finally move to wash the cup from the morning— he leans against the counter, watching. You turn to him questioningly, smile still on your lips. 

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he says, voice unusually soft, and you tilt your head as you put the cup in the dishwasher.

“Of course I am. Why? Did something happen?” you question. At this, your boyfriend sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“There’s something that’s been causing a lot of trouble at night for us. Haven’t found them yet,” he says, intentionally leaving his words vague, and you know better than to question it. Sometimes knowing is more dangerous than ignorance. You smile lightly at him.

“Then I’m glad you’re safe, too.”

His eyes soften, his expression so loving it’s almost criminal, and your heart skips a beat. He steps forward, taking you in his arms, and you giggle as he presses kisses on your cheeks and down the sides of your neck.

“Chuuya, what’s gotten into you?” You laugh, and though there’s a slight smile on his face, his eyes look unusually serious. He presses another kiss to your collarbone.

“Just… let me be selfish for now. I need you.” He murmurs into your skin, pushing you backwards so you’re sandwiched between him and the kitchen counter. You squeak as your backside hits the cold stone, but you’re quickly silenced by a kiss to your lips. It’s desperate, desperate and full of longing, and your stomach twists into knots as you return it, threading your hands through his beautiful orange hair. His hands find your hips, his breath heavy, and as you separate you barely have any time to gasp for air before his lips are on yours again. You’re taken aback by how urgent his movements are, and you find yourself becoming worried rather quickly. Something must have happened while he was gone.

“Chuuya,” you manage to say between kisses. “What’s wrong?”

Your boyfriend exhales loudly, pulling you closer, and he shakes his head, pulling back just enough so he can give your neck attention again. You angle your head so he can reach it better, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“You deserve better than this,” he breathes. “Waiting for me to come home night after night.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss to your jaw.

“It’s fine, Chuuya,” you say, intending to pacify him,  but his eyes quickly fill with desperation instead as you speak.

“You don’t understand,” he says, voice cracking, and it’s so full of emotion that it shuts you up immediately. “You need someone that can give you all of them.”

At this, you lean backwards, studying him. He moves to chase your neck, but you gently stop him. “Do you not do that already?” you question, and you try your best not to mention the silence that follows.

He’s quiet for a moment, and that’s all the answer you need.

You knew he could never give you all of him. Bound to the Mafia as he was, you knew that sometimes, you would have to be the second choice. You knew this. 

Even so, when it came down to the most important matters, you knew you would always be first.

You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment and listening to the rain on the windows, and when you open them, Chuuya is staring over your shoulder guiltily, unable to meet your eyes.

“It’s okay, Chuuya,” you begin, and he finally makes eye contact, giving you a disbelieving look. “I knew what I was signing up for when I started dating you. And I’m still here, and I will continue to be here. I love you, and you love me, and that’s enough for me.”

You reach out to cup his face, and he leans into your touch, still looking guilty. He gently grabs your wrist and kisses your palm.

“I don’t know what I did to get someone as good as you,” he confesses, and you smile, moving closer to him. He lets you, and you hold him tenderly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. It lingers, both of you moving slowly, and as you pull away you look into his eyes.

“I love you, okay?” you reassure him, and finally, he smiles back.

“I love you, too. More than you could ever know.”

The morning would steal Chuuya away from you in time, but for now, for the night, it was just you two and the storm dancing outside. For the rest of the night, you had each other.

[acknowledgetheabsurd]

Alone! I am alone in my bed and I really feel better this way tonight. I told Pitou that I needed to be alone. The day went better than the previous ones. I think that the big crisis is over. Now it's the turn of the dull pain of each day. I have not yet regained a taste for life, but for that I think I'll have to wait for your return. Finally, I passed the most dangerous course; it is what was most urgent and most difficult to achieve. The rest, we'll see. Last night, I was really afraid to give up. I had a fever, everything was spinning, and when I got home I couldn't say the words or carry out the gestures. Physically, I was afraid, I forced myself to eat and with fatigue I slept a heavy sleep for ten hours at a time. 

This morning, I arranged the room and various things of dad. At noon, Dom Juan and Feli [Negrín] came to take me to lunch. They were, as always, wonderful and I always admire their tact and intelligence of the heart. They asked me how old you were. Dom Juan called you a kid, I think he even said "brat" when he learned that you were only thirty-six. At 2:30 they came with me to a screening of Orpheus. The film has some very beautiful passages. Dom Juan and Feli were very moved. At the beginning, I thought I would not be able to stay. When I came home, I found Pierre [Reynal] and we took care of lamps and carpets. 

Then the theater. I played more easily, with less pain. It was only the fifth act that cost me again. At home, Angeles was waiting for me, radiant with tenderness and kindness, on the landing. She babbled non-stop. She was beautiful. Feli - whom I had forbidden to pick me up - had asked me to call her when I got home. Pitou called me too. I had dinner. Angeles put me to bed. And here I am. This is my day. And now it's your turn. Yes, I need your clear and relaxed mind. I eat, I distract myself, I'm working hard to be more than a shadow when you come back. I will succeed; I want it so much! You, you must come back to me calm, happy with yourself and of your work, grown and cured. Do you hear? I don't ask it anymore, I demand it. Here!

For that: 1) Know that from now on it will be okay for me. It will get better and better. Know that. I wouldn't tell you if I didn't mean it. 2) Work as hard and as well as you can. Don't let yourself be distracted by anything. 3) I don't know where you are in your life with those around you. In any case, put everything back in order, and, in peace, work. 4) Take care of yourself rigorously. 5) Forget about all those petty disgusting stories like Hebertot and don't get involved in intolerable and useless discussions. It's really not worth it and a waste of time and energy. Let it be said. You can answer him later.

Here's your program until the end of March. After that, we'll see and talk all you want. All day and all night if you want. You can rant, rave, ride by yourself, walk around, everything, my dear love, everything you want. I will be happy to watch you. But now, peace, work, and rest. Do you promise me that? 

For the rest, oh my darling, my love, my great, my beautiful love, what can I tell you? say to you? If you knew how you helped me, supported me during these long days of horror, you would consider your life justified, just for that. I can't tell you - in this universe that has suddenly opened up between us, this universe of immense friendship and love that erases even distances, words have no place anymore. But there's no way you can't feel the warmth that you have put around me. Not for a second did I feel alone. Not for a moment and even in my pain, I found you crying with me. This, for me, is the miracle. I would never have believed such love, such trust, such a gift, such a complete understanding. I love you, my darling, and I love you well, wonderfully. I also know that you love me and I am even more sure of you than I am of myself. I thank you with all my soul for being what you are and I give myself again and again to you, without reservations, with all my heart, with the most absolute confidence. See you tomorrow, my love. Sleep well. Good night.

Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, February 23, 1950 [#211]

[booktomoviebrawl]

We are not judging how bad the movie is, we are judging which adapted the book the worst. There are good movies that are bad adaptions.

Propaganda below the cut (spoilers may apply)

Persuasion:

They massacred my girl!! That is not Anne Elliot!! The whole point is that she's beaten down and thinks she's missed her chance at happiness and is bullied by her family, not making mean and snarky nods to the camera :( They completely missed the whole point of the dynamic and it's SICKENING! They also cut Mrs Smith who is arguably one of the most important characters as she highlights Anne's lack of focus on title and rank and her family's comparative obsession with it + it's only through her that Anne learns about Mr Elliot's true nasty nature. Also they cut the 'I am half agony, half hope' line from Wentworth's letter at the end so what's even the POINT of adapting it if you don't have that!! Oh my god!! My poor favourite Austen novel :( (I do want to make it very very clear that my issues with the movie come from the writing and adaptation and not in any way from the race blind casting. The casting is superb and I'm genuinely so disappointed that they got such a bad adaptation bc so many of the cast are literally perfect)

Where do I even start? They tried to 'modernize' both the protagonist and the love story and managed to take out everything that made it good in the first place. Anne Elliot in the novel is quiet and good and helpful, full of regret. In the movie, she constantly turns to the audience to mock everyone around her, feeling so much better than everyone, to the point where nobody understands why Captain Wentworth would still be in love with her, or have fallen in love with her in the first place. Eight years before the plot starts, she broker her engagement to him because she was persuaded by a family friend that it was a bad idea. No way would movie!Anne have let herself be persuaded. They just tried to do a Fleabag/Emma type of thing without understanding what made either the novel or those two things work and thereby ruined it completely

Whoever made this didn't understand the point of the novel at all. They completely screwed up the character of Anne Elliot (the protagonist), which in turn screws the rest of the movie, as the original story only works because Anne is the way she is. Also, it's a period piece but the characters are talking in modern slang the entire time. And not in a clever way but in a very cringey one. If Jane Austen knew, she'd probably turn in her grave, and rightfully so.

Maximum Ride:

The storyline makes absolutely no sense, and the movie is nothing like the book. You could've given the movie an entirely different name and and keep the plot I wouldn't bat an eye

the movie's just bad mate

Horrendous low budget netflix movie with effects so bad they make me feel physically ill and acting so wooden the cast is in danger of being attacked by lumberjacks. The story already wasn't the best and the film somehow made it worst. I came in with nostalgia for my dear kids with bird wings and left never to be the same again.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children:

While Miss Peregrine was one of my favorite books as a kid and incredibly unique in the way the story is written (The author basically took a box of weird antique photographs and created an underlying story behind a handful of them) the movie is incredibly boring. Like seriously I can't remember a single goddamn thing about the movie besides my extreme disappointment with it after leaving the theatres. It's probably because the original is a trilogy but they didn't want to make it a trilogy for the movie so they just scrapped the ending of the first book and rewrote a shitty climax where they threw snowballs at the nightmare child eating creatures or something. I remember THAT scene perfectly because it was so, so dumb. It was so stupid oh my God- ALSO, thank God I have a copy of the book from before the film came out because new copies don't have one of the photographs that the actual book uses as a base anymore and instead have the shitty movie poster! We truly do live in a society.

Changed way too much so it doesn't feel like the same thing. The main characters are these kids with different abilities (called peculiarities) and the movie switches around their powers and changes almost everyone's age. Emma and Olive switch powers so that Emma now floats (they also added that she can kind of control air to some extent) when she's supposed to have fire powers to match her fiery personality. Olive can make fire now and she's also aged up from an eight year old to a teenager and put her in this weird romance with Enoch. Enoch is also aged up from a grumpy thirteen year old to around the same age as Olive. Bronwyn, one of the older kids in the book and sort of a motherly figure to the younger kids, is now one of the youngest kids. Hugh and Fiona are aged down and basically have no interaction at all in the movie, even when their book counterparts had such a good relationship. The only one they didn't really change was Horace and Jacob. They also added these gorgon twins that do like two things. The antagonist in the movie is Mr. Barron who honestly isn't super memorable and isn't in the books whatsoever. The ending of the movie is weird too because they manage to turn back time somehow so Jacob's grandfather isn't dead and then he hops through loops so he can be with Emma and the other peculiars. I guess the problem of wights and hollowgasts is magically eliminated and we do not have to deal with the consequences. It took six books to fix everything. I appreciate that the movie engaged me enough to read the series but once I did, I could not believe they did my kids that dirty.

Yikes where to start. The 3 girl characters are all mixed up. There are 2 teens, one who's super strong and has a brother (I'll get back to him) and one who controls fire and is the love interest named Emma. The third girl is a child called Olive who floats. She's lighter than air.

In the movie, strong girl is the child, olive is now the fire girl and is for some reason super introverted, and Emma the love interest floats and gets given a super breath??? Power?? Like she rises a sunken ship by blowing in and keeps a man blown against a wall by blowing air at him. He makes a remark that she'll run out of breath eventually, which happens here because plot convenience, but not when she's blowing in the sunken ship.

The enemies in the book are terrifying Hollows. Creatures who have lost themselves and devour souls of those with powers... The movie decides they eat eyes now. And turn human again. And get busted up in a fair for the final act of the movie. Ugh.

The movie also decides randomly that time travelling through the loops is a thing; a loop being a pocket of time that replays the same day over and over. But apparently this means Main Character can travel back in time and stop his grandfather dying??? What?? His grandfathers death is the whole start of the movie and motivation for the character.

The movie undermines many of things that made the book amazing and even decides it's not a trilogy anymore!! Fuck the other 2 books, right?!

Tldr; it is terribly hollywood-ised and t tim Burton ruined a franchise by trying too hard to make it quirky and fun when the books already had a brilliant sombre and interesting tone to them.

[eatbrick]

old man's favorite.

pt. one

( not edited. ) 

note : i..did something and..i..i..just take me to hoe county prison at this point.. 

again, no hate please! i don’t appreciate it nor will i tolerate it. thank you!! ♥️♥️

summary : post-shibuya incident \\ naobito is alive in my delulu  

pairing : zen’in naobito x fem!reader

warnings : physical abuse (mentioned)

—

two months passed. 

zen’in naobito has shut everyone off and the only time he was seen was to redress the burnt wounds from the shibuya incident. the servants have said the wounds were healing, but the process was extremely slow. there were days when he would yell for them to get out or leave and would throw the gourds against the thin walls of the zen’in household to be left alone.

it’s understandable for him to be angry. it’s no different than the times before the shibuya incident occured. just this time, it felt different. 

it felt quiet. 

empty. lonely. 

—

ryomen sumiko felt something weird since she visited the zen’in clan. she felt anxious to see naobito again after she was sent to america sixteen years ago. it was like every time she thought about him, her heart beats over and over. it felt wrong, but yet, felt good in a terrible way possible. 

it was kept secret about her technique. too dangerous upon use and highly deadly to anyone who’s targeted of it. the two-six figures of eight cursed technique should not have ever been created to any sorcerer if they were given the opportunity to learn it. its demonic technique gives its person the skill to strip part its target into pieces and have the devil’s servants rise in the figures of eight as objects that defy as a human being but doesn’t appear as one. the demons rise above in such a eerie matter that brings chills upon the targets skin creating massive fear. 

once targeted, there will only be one out of a tenth chance to get out of technique. 

without much knowledge of her inheriting the cursed technique, her memory was wiped from the ability of knowing how to conjure the skill and use it. 

—

now twenty, sumiko had been adamant on wanting to go back to japan. the unreasonable miss of the zen’in clan was enough to be waited for and to go back home. after learning english in america and going to school, sumiko has finally flied back. 

smiling to herself, sumiko wonders how naobito is doing. 

—

naobito was drunk as usual, drinking sake and not caring what goes on around the household of the zen’in clan neglecting his duties and responsibilities as the twenty-sixth head of the zen’in sorcerer family. 

suddenly, he hears soft footsteps stomping and the giggling noises of a child as if running away from someone. 

naobito hums in confusion and just as he slides the shoji doors, a child trips in front of him. 

“ what do you think you’re doing running around, child? ” naobito observes the child. long dark-colored hair, cheeks tinted red, and crocodile tears rolling down the side of both cheeks. 

“ sumiko!! sumiko, there you are! i’ve been looking all over for you! what happens if you disturb master naobito? ” a servant had found the little child. just as they know it, naobito stood before them. 

the servant gasps in horror and apologies. “ m-master naobito!! i-i my sincere apologies for disturbing you! ” 

bowing down, the servant whispers to the child. “ sumiko, apologize for disturbing the master at once!! ” 

“ s-sorry i disturbed you. ” little sumiko’s chin was red from the fall. “ i just wanted chan-chan to chase after me. ” she confessed. 

chan-chan? the servant? naobito thought. “ what’s your name, you good for nothing child? ” 

“ sumiko. ” she sniffles again. “ ryomen sumiko. ” 

naobito freezes. his eyes widen by the surname. so this is the child that inherited the two-six figures of eight technique?

 naobito scoffs, “ i will pretend that this never happened. if you disturb me again, you will think twice about pulling that stupid stunt. am i clear? ”

“ thank you, master naobito! i apologise! ” the servant replied. 

sumiko only looked down at her lap and at her scraped knees that were now bleeding, while soflty sniffling from the pain not too long ago. 

“ i wasn’t talking to you. i was talking to her. ” naobito retorted. 

“ s-sorry, i didn’t mean to. ” she whimpered. as she looked up at naobito, more tears began to spill, in fear to what he would do. 

naobito seemed to be intrigued by the young sumiko. he rolled his eyes as the appearance of a child crying in front of him. but yet, he felt a pang in his heart seeing the child upset. 

a cloth was soon thrown on top of sumiko’s head. 

“ cry somewhere else. it’s hurting my eyes.”

—

“ where did she run off to now? ” 

“ how dare she take one the tea cakes!? those are for master naobito! ”

“ oh no! we’re going to be thrown into the cursed pit! ”

naobito chuckles hearing the low-life servants exclaim in fear. as naobito takes another gulp of sake from his gourd one the shoji doors slid softly. 

“ get out. i don’t wish to be disturbed by you low-lives. ”

“ … ”

“ what did i say? i said– ” 

naobito was cut off as he turnt around, not expecting a child in front of him. 

young sumiko had bandaids on her knees and one on her chin. 

he chuckles. “ do you not remember what happened last time, child? i clearly– ”

“ thank you for the cloth. ” sumiko softly said. naobito’s eyes widen again. he looks down at her hands as she raises them up to him. 

it was the cloth folded nicely and a plate of the tea cakes. sumiko looked away not wanting to see the look on his face. 

are those the tea cakes those low-lives were talking about? naobito thought. 

“ are you just going to stand there all day long until i take those? or are you going to leave? ” naobito asks. 

“ th-this isn’t mine. so i’m giving it back. ”

naobito laughs loudly, “ would you be thankful if i took the cloth back? ”

sumiko looked him in the eyes. “ yes. ”

“ and i’m guessing the tea cakes you stole from the kitchen are for me too? ” 

her face turns red as she was caught red-handed from stealing the masters desserts. 

“ y-yes. ” she quietly said. 

“ how do i know you didn’t poison them? ” 

her eyes widen at the accusation. “ i di-didn’t, i swear! ” her eyes almost started to tear up. 

again, naobito only laughed. “ you’re such a gullible child. but i shouldn’t be surprised since you’re only what, six? ”

sumiko looked down at the cloth and plate of tea cakes she was holding for naobito. “ i’m seven. ”

“ close enough. ” naobito said softly. “ set those down on the table and go on your way. ” 

as sumiko sets the plate of desserts down, her stomach starts to grumble. her eyes widen at the sound of her stomach growling loud as much as possible even for naobito to hear. 

he was amused by such a loud noise coming from the child in front of him. 

“ where is that stupid child!? ”

“ her punishment is going to be worse than master naobito’s! ”

sumiko’s look of worry was shown and the fear of being found by the servants as they searched for her. 

has she not eaten? he thought. 

“ sumiko!! ” the servants called out. 

“ you can hide here for the meantime. ” naobito says. 

“ huh? ” young sumiko replied back. “ a-are you sure? ” 

naobito hummed, taking another swig of the gourd. “ sit down, relax, and enjoy the moment of silence. ” he said sarcastically, even inches away sumiko could smell the sake off from his breath. he was totally starting to get drunk again. 

two hours had passed. the servants had still called for her and the sun was starting to go down. sumiko was trying to fight the sleep that was bound to win. her head kept on falling down, but she fought back up. nothing could have helped, considering her stomach had growled again from the lack of food. 

sumiko frowned. she didn’t want to get yelled at, nor did she want to leave also. she found it quite peaceful in the master’s room.

the door she opened had a crack to let in the golden hour shine through and hear the dung beetles sing consistently. 

naobito either hicupped, burped, or yawned during the hours of silence. it was like he didn’t care or mind that she was there; or he didn’t bother of her existence. 

“ if i hear another growl from your stomach, i’m going to kick you out. ”

sumiko froze and was stiff in an instant. “ s-sorry. i’ll make it stop. ”

“ and how would you do that? ”

the next thing that happened was what shocked naobito. 

“ hmph!! ” sumiko whimpered. with one punch to the stomach, her eyes start to water, but she furiously wipes them away remembering that naobito didn’t like the sight of it. 

her stomach growled again. her lips quiver and hated to hit her stomach again to stop making noises. with almost another contact of her fist to her stomach she was stopped. 

“ don’t ever hit your stomach again. if you were hungry, all you had to do was ask. ” suddenly the table that she earlier set the plate of tea cakes were in front of her and a kettle, most likely filled with sake. 

however, sumiko declined shaking her head. “ i will not eat your tea cakes. they are for you, since i brought them. ”

naobito was starting to get annoyed. were those piece of shits of a servant the cause of this? 

“ tell me, how did you get those bruises? ” naobito questioned. 

“ i fell down. ” 

“ i won’t ask again. tell me the truth. ” he sternly said. 

quietly, sumiko answers, “ madame ohk’i punished me for dropping a plate of your desserts from yesterday. ”

“ you did not answer my question. ” 

sumiko’s stomach growled. she thought if her stomach growled again, she wouldn’t live to see the daylights. at the thought, her eyes water. “ after dropping your desserts, they hit me in the shins and wrists. that way i shall remember to not be clumsy to trip and drop anything. ”

“ and explain the reason your stomach has been growling. ”

“ after they hit me, i was told i wouldn’t be able to eat until i give you the plate of desserts without tripping or dropping it next time. ” sumiko sniffled. 

naobito hummed in response and drinked again. without noticing until after, he pushes the table towards her again but closer. she realized that the kettle was not filled with sake, but freshly warm brewed tea. 

“ eat. and i don’t mean to only take one bite, eat all of it. ” 

“ i– ”

“ if i hear another lame ass excuse, i’m going to kick you out. ” 

as she grabs one of the desserts off from the plate, she softly takes a bite of it. tasting the flavor, her mouth started to water. she quickly took larger bites out of the desserts. while eating, she notices a cup of tea in front of her with a hand holding it. 

looking towards where the mysterious hand, it was naobito’s. he filled the cup with tea and handed it to sumiko. 

“ drink before you choke and die on my watch. ”

young sumiko started to tear up again and her doe eyes stared back at him. 

“ you better not cry. i will kick you out. ”

—

sumiko sighs. i wonder if i can see him again..

getting out of bed, young sumiko heads to the kitchen to grab another plate of dessert for naobito. with only one or two encounters with the older man, she seems to find some comfort being there with him. 

“ you stupid boy ,” sumiko hears naobito said to someone else, “ have i not taught you enough to inherit my technique? it’s obvious that you did not learn at all. now, get the hell out, you disappointment. ”

sumiko frowned knowing she came by at the wrong time. she was beginning to leave until the doors immediately opened from the other side. even with soft footsteps, you could hear them touch the wooden floors ever so quietly. 

“ what do you want, child? ” naobito announced. 

she froze wondering how he knew she was on the other side. sumiko soon walked to the opening of the shoji and entered in. 

“ are you wanting something from me? c’mon what is it? ” he asked sumiko. she only stood ther in front of him with the plate of desserts as before. sumiko bit her inner lip, awkward in the moment not knowing what her answer is to his question. 

“ i don’t want anything. ”

“ i realize that you’ve never called me ‘master’ just like the low-lives. why’s that? ”

“ i don’t know what to call you, exactly. ” she answered. 

and always, naobito hummed in response. “ call me ‘old man’ or ‘naobito’. consider it for the day you gave me my plate of desserts and today. ”

sumiko looked up at him. “ can i ask you a question? ”

“ you just did, child. ”

“ oh. uh, who was that boy you were talking to? ”

“ naoya, you ask? ” 

so that’s his name. naoya. 

“ who is he? ” 

naobito scoffed, “ he? he’s nothing but a disappointment. a disappointment of a child, that’s mine. ”

“ he’s your son? ��� 

“ unfortunately. ” 

young sumiko frowned, “ i don’t mean to be rude, but why do you make it seem like you hate him? ”

“ who doesn’t hate their own child? especailly one that doesn’t have the ability to inherit my techniques? maybe if he were to actually put in the effort and learn, maybe i wouldn’t see him as a failure. ”

“ but he’s your son. you..you wouldn’t actually hate your son for not doing something right, right..? ”

naobito laughed, “ hahaha!! my, my, why are you so curious all of a sudden? ”

“ i know parents are supposed to be loving and caring for their children. i’ve never seen someone so mean to their own child. ” young sumiko confessed. 

naobito raised a brow and hummed. “ who are your parents, child? ”

there was a pause. “ i don’t know who my parents are or were. that is why i was brought here. ”

naobito looked over at sumiko. she was upset. he felt another sharp pang in his heart for the younger child. 

why does this keep on happening every time i see her upset? naobito wondered. 

“ i’m sorry i asked. ” 

he hummed again. “ i’m not mad. honestly, i don’t care talking about my son. needed to steam off anyways. ”

“ old man. ” sumiko announced. just as he was going to drink from his gourd, he coughed from the nickname he offered her to call him. 

“ what now, child? ” he recovered. 

“ if you were born another life and had children, do you think you would have treated your children better? ” sumiko asked quietly. 

 “ sumiko. ” he said pausing for a short time. sumiko froze. he never actually called her by her name, except for ‘child.’ 

“ yes? ”

“ i don’t think that god will ever give me second chance. ” 

—

“ my, my ,” naobito announces, “ you’ve grown the last time i saw you, sumiko. ”

sumiko’s breath hitched. she felt her hand tremble slightly not knowing how to react. naobitio’s skin was scorched immensely from the cursed spirit and to mention his missing arm being absent. 

“ o-old man. ” sumiko says. 

“ are you here to pity me? or do you wish for me to give you attention as always. ” he rudely said. 

sumiko flinched by how he responded back to her. she knew the act he was putting on–but really, they both knew. 

“ i flew back to come see you.. ”

naobito laughed loudly. “ how selfish of a brat you are. ”

she began to feel anger rushing within her, “ what was i supposed to do, old man! you sent me to america for fourteen years! i couldn’t bear learning english nor having american friends, it felt lonely and strange! you weren’t there!! ”

naobito had been quiet afterwards. he didn’t feel the need to utter a word towards her. 

sumiko continued, “ why did you send me to america! was i that much of a nuisance? was i really that annoying to you and seeked attention because i was a child? ”

“ stop. ” 

“ stop? ” she scoffed, “ who are you to tell me what to do? i’m an adult now, old man. sure, i listened to you when i was younger, but that was because i was a child, seven years ago. ”

“ sumiko, stop. ” naobito quietly said. her brow twitched and was confused a second, sensing the different tone he used. although, that wasn’t going to stop sumiko. 

“ no! i flew back to see you, old man! and all you have to say for yourself is that i am a selfish brat? what about you! you’re the head of the zen’in clan, and yet, all you do is drink away neglecting your duties of the family! and to mention that you’re a terrible father! hating on your own son ever since he was born because he didn’t inherit the special curse technique, it’s obviously known that the zen’in clan disowns their own–that’s fucked up! i flew back to chat with you like old times, old man! and you care less about it! i even asked those ‘low-lives’ of a servant to ask where you were. i wanted to see you, and the first time after seven years, i see you almost dead– ”

“ if you can’t shut the hell up, i’ll make you. ” 

“ then make me, old man! ” 

“ my, you really are a piece of work– ” naobito was cut off as he turned around. 

just as the first day they met, sumiko had tears rolling down her cheeks. again, naobito felt the sharp pang in his heart. 

she sniffled just as the first day they encountered each other. “ what? you got nothing to say again? ” 

“ sumiko. ”

“ what. ” 

“ why did you save me. ”

—

“ you would have died, old man. and there wouldn’t be a point to see myself living if you weren’t there. ” 

sumiko soon heard a shuffling sound as naobito was getting up from where he sat in the shadows. naobito was taller than her. sumiko felt the need to look elsewhere, but she couldn’t. the burnt scars all over his body and missing arm was enough for her to tear up again. 

“ old ma– ”

in an instant, naobito grabs sumiko by the arm pulling her directly to him. staring with wide eyes, she stood still not knowing how to react. 

“ accept this hug as my gratitude for your act of kindness to this old, cranky man. ” naobito explained. 

even with all the bandages wrapped in the wounds that were deep, she could feel the warmth of his skin in contact with her face buried in his chest. sumiko’s lip quiver, “ old man.. ” she whimpered as tears spill out from her eyes. 

“ it’s ‘naobito’ for you, sumiko. ” he corrected her. 

—

lmaoooo i just realized i put my oc in this story … oh well

i hope you gilf lovers enjoyed ~

🫶🏼🫶🏼