#legit shed a tear or two
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the new mclaren video with Lando and Jon is such a good watch:
it's incredibly brave of Lando to be so willing and open, to make a video almost 10 minutes long about mental health, and particularly his personal experience with it, as a young male athlete and as someone who has been so open about it in the past as well
for someone who we know likes to say he isn't the best with words, he can be very eloquent when he wants to be and it was so lovely to just listen to him
when it comes to certain comments in the media and on social media platforms, he just confirms what most us already knew, and that's that it's extremely rare (if ever) that he has ill intent behind comments he makes - often facts people just seem to not like, or his opinions he knows not everyone needs/wants to agree with - and people most often just misinterpret or create their own perception of it. it's also nice knowing he deals with it better and is more confident in himself and knowing himself and his own intentions
"I care about what I do, I just... care less about certain people's opinions"
hearing the way he's matured and grown with certain things, how's he's got a better understanding of both his physical (sleep and nutrition) and his mental well-being and that he knows how to take better care of himself - it's sweet as well how he credited Jon for helping a lot with those things
how much mclaren themselves have implemented, not just for drivers but for the team as a whole, with a team psychologist, mental health first aiders, things like sleep seminars and jet lag strategies
Jon's main advice being talk to people, find people you know and trust and don't be afraid to speak to them, to offload heavy feelings and get support, and Lando's very similar, find those who comfort you and you comfort, you can trust and rely on
and probably most importantly, it's just a wonderful reminder of how good Jon and Lando are together, how strong their relationship is. mental health can be an incredibly heavy topic, and one that's not easy to talk about sometimes, but their relationship is clearly so so solid by how at ease they seem together, still joking and bantering, and honestly they make my heart squeeze a little bit because it's nice knowing Lando has Jon in his corner, has for almost a decade and I doubt he's going anywhere anytime soon
#mclaren#lando norris#jon malvern#jontent#<- obligatory tag#nah but fr if you can find 10 mins give it a watch#legit shed a tear or two#it's a wonderful insight to lando#it's nice getting to listen to jon too#birb watches
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HOII!!! I was the one who sent that dad!Adam ask and I absolutely love it!!! I had to make happy biscuits on my plushy because it legit gave me the butterflies 🥹 i have another dad!Adam if thats ok. (maybe two cuz like theres not enough dad!Adam stuff)
How would he react to the news? Will he brag about it to Lucifer by sending a post card?
And what would he do if his youngins gave him V-day ribs or cookies? (with the help of the reader of course lol)
A/n: thats so sweet! And adorable....and you're very right! So here is more dad Adam things.
First and foremost, Adam would cry and I'm not talking about him shedding a few tear. No this man straight up sobs, he is a blubbering mess as he holds on to you. You just made him one of the happiest people in Heaven. Yes he knew he was is a dick but you make him happy, he can actually see the love you have for him in his and to know you are carrying his child made him even more happier.
Oh you bet your ass the moment you tell him that you're pregnant he's sending a bragging post card to the Fallen Angel. In fact, Adam will keep on sending pictures of you as you progress through your pregnancy.
Adam is so sweet during your pregnancy, he is careful around you for your first trimester. He loves to sing to your belly.
He is still a blubbering mess.
Adam is one of the husbands that faints when you're in labor, so Lute stays by your side.
His little one made him something? Oh god, here comes the water works. It is even worse if it's his favorite food. Adam will share it with you and his little cherubs
Adam Shows of his kids to anyone that will hear him!
LOOK AT THESE PICTURES DAMN IT
#blurbs#blurb#hazbin hotel adam#adam#adam hazbin hotel#adam hazbin#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel#hazbin#adam x reader#adam x you#adam x y/n#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin x y/n
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What They Didn't Know Was Missing
Summary: It's hard to come into terms of becoming a mother, but Sherlock reassures you that he'll remind you every day that you are worthy of being one to your child.
Warning: pregnancy symptoms, labor, mentions of abandonment, mentions of gun violence
It was around noon at 221 Baker Street. Sherlock was walking back home with a small packaged box in hand, holding it a bit tighter than he should.
He makes his way to his apartment, walking on the steps as he turned his key to the room. He looks around, not minding that his organized mess is gone and the smell of his pipe no longer lingered in the air.
Sherlock was territorial when it came to his home, but he made changes in his life when he met you.
You were the owner of a barkeep, feisty, and wasn't afraid of telling a man off when he didn't pay his tab. So when Sherlock came to the bar to ask about a suspect, you'd only answer his questions if he was a paying customer.
Either he was desperate to find answers or he just wanted to stay to talk to you for hours, the Holmes man paid a heavy load.
You both weren't afraid of courting each other in public, even if you two weren't of the same status. But, it was time to change some things. Your pub that you've built from the ground up turned into a legit business and Sherlock turned from his lone wolf days and finally proposed to you.
"I never knew I was alone until I met you, and I don't want that feeling again."
Your ceremony was small, Enola and his mother shed a few tears and you couldn't believe that his eldest brother, Mycroft, came (he never liked you due to your independent spirit, but he started to tolerate you more. Call it a win). Being married for about half a year has been a dream. But like a dream, one has to wake up.
Once Sherlock takes off his outdoor attire, he searches for you and lands his eyes on a figure on his couch.
"Hi." he whispered softly as he kneels to your level as you laid on the couch.
You turn around to face him and give him a tired smile.
"Same symptoms as yesterday?" He asks, unpacking the small box in his hand.
"Yes. When you left this morning, I awoke abruptly and felt sick." You said as your stomach churned.
"Here, chew this." Sherlock said, taking out an herb that was small as a chestnut.
You leaned your head further as he fed you the piece. You slightly grimace at the taste.
"It taste like grass." You said.
"I didn't know that you eat grass." He said, smirking. You lightly smack his chest as you lie on your side.
"It's already fighting off the nausea. How did you know it will work?" You ask.
Sherlock sat on the ground while he combed your hair with his fingers to help you relax.
"I remember my mother used it when she was pregnant with Enola."
You pause at his words, feeling your face pale.
Pregnant... the word scared you.
You got up from your lying position as Sherlock dotingly helps you too. He sits beside you as you laid your head on his shoulder. You've been feeling some sort of way since a doctor diagnosed you alongside your husband's deduction. Secretly, Sherlock was thrilled that he would become a father, he never thought he'd had a chance of having a family of his own.
He looks down at you, his eyes gazing at how you've been losing sleep and appearing almost crestfallen. He knows why you’ve been feeling like this, but he wants to hear it from you first.
“Please, love. I just want to know how I can help you.” He murmurs.
You begin to sniffle as you try to avoid his gaze.
“You can’t, Sherlock..” you said as you were about to get up.
He softly grabs your wrist and guides you to his lap, holding you still so you won’t leave him.
“You won't abandon them.” Sherlock’s voice rose.
“How can you be sure?” You ask, feeling the hot tears roll your cheeks.
You were given up as a baby, growing in an orphanage. When you were old enough, you ran away and decided to work at a pub when they needed a maid. The owner loved you as their own daughter, so they wrote you in their will to become the next barkeep. But even after your entire journey and becoming a business owner, you felt so incomplete of why your parents gave you up.
“Because you are full of love. You’re able to teach our child how to love, you’ve taught me how to love. There is not one ounce in my body that tells me that you will leave them. And I'm usually right all the time."
You chuckle loudly as you wiped away your tears. Not a lot of people saw this soft side of your husband, and you slightly feel selfish that you want to keep this side of him all to yourself.
You lean into his chest as he holds you closer to him, his hand suddenly resting on your now-showing bump.
"I promise you, I'll be there every second. Even for the birth."
You look at him worried, as it wasn't common practice for the father to be present for the birth. You haven't recovered from the stories from your friends who are midwives.
"Sherlock, I don't think that -"
"My love, I will never let you doubt yourself for one moment. I'm going to be there in your time of need. We'll be alright, trust me." He says, kissing the side of your temple. Sherlock wasn't any conventional man, so you knew his words were true.
You smile up at him as you cuddled closer to one another as you stare down at your abdomen, anticipating the life you're growing.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Where is he!?" You screamed as you feel a contraction take control of your body.
"Sherlock's been working on a case since noon." Enola said, trying to support you in your distress.
"Typical, that man." You gritted as you sat on the edge of your bed, feeling the contraction go away.
After Sherlock went out during the day, Enola decided to pop in and say hello. She was going on and on about that Tewkesbury boy and suddenly you felt your water broke. Enola was shocked as well as you were and decided to call for her mother as she had no idea how to deliver a baby.
As on cue, your mother in law comes with hot boiling water and a towel on her shoulder, smiling at you.
"How are we doing dear?" She asks, putting the pail down.
"Like my body is splitting in half." You heaved out, gripping the sheets in your hand.
"It means it's almost time. Let me have a look at your dilation." Eudoria said, kneeling down.
You begin to cry, fearing that your husband was going to miss the birth of your baby.
A hostile knock echos the apartment alongside your moans, and Eudoria orders Enola to send off the person interrupting.
"I'm afraid you have to push, my dear." She said, seeing that you've dilated.
You shake your head, crying.
"I can't do it. Not without Sherlock."
"It will all be alright, we need to get this baby out so you can finally see them. Enola! Come quick, I need you to support your sister!"
Enola comes barging in, looking a bit pale at you.
"Please, don't freak out." She begs you.
You're about to ask what's wrong until Mycroft comes in, trying his best to hold your husband up as he was badly wounded.
"I'm sorry, he saw a sniper a few feet from us. Sherlock tried to push me away, but the bullet..."
You begin to sob, seeing your husband like this.
"Take him to the couch and treat his wound, you're upsetting her." Eudoria commanded, not wanting you to be in hysteria.
"No, I'm fine. I'm not- leaving my wife." Sherlock grunted, knowing the bullet went through some flesh and his pain was manageable.
His mother and brother shared an uneasy look, but after you cry again, Mycroft guided his younger brother to you.
Sherlock held your hand as you squeezed it tight, gritting your teeth as the contractions were doubling.
"You're here." You teared up.
"You know I wouldn't have missed this." Sherlock said, kissing your palm as he crawled behind you so you can rest behind his chest.
"Alright, are you two ready to have your baby here?" Eudoria asks. You look up to Sherlock who smiles at you as you shook your head, anticipating the greatest pain you faced to meet.
The birth was excruciating, and there were moments when you wanted to give up. But Sherlock kept whispering in your ear, urging you to keep pushing. Soon, you welcomed a healthy baby who was crying as loud as a symphony.
Now you were in bed, resting with your baby in your arms as Sherlock returned after saying goodbye to his mother, brother, and sister.
He stands there by the door frame looking at you, smiling at such a heavenly scene.
"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asks, knowing you're beyond tired.
"I feel so at peace, I can't take my eyes off of them." you whispered as they were sound asleep. Sherlock slowly makes his way to you and slips within the sheets.
"I was so unsure of what type of mother I'll be... but seeing them now, I never want to let them go." You said.
You turn to see your husband crying a bit, knowing since the day you found out you were pregnant that you'd be an amazing mother.
"I never doubted for one second."
Your foreheads connected as you breathed in his scent.
"I thought I almost lost you." you said in a low tone.
Sherlock sighs, knowing that any case he'd take would permanently take him away from both of you.
"You'll never lose me, I'll promise both of you that." he whispers.
You both lean in for a kiss and stare down at your baby once more. Two lonely souls found each other and they found what they didn't know was missing: love.
#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes enola holmes#sherlock holmes henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes fic#sherlock holmes x pregnant reader#enola holmes
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Dude help.
I'm watching the Lunar and Earth show and like- the only thing I did was smile. Is smiling and giggling coping bro? The only time I shed tears was when Monty walked into the door and I only shed two of em. AND THE ONLY THING I COULD SAY WAS LEGIT "WOMP WOMP". 💀 First time seeing Earth scream.
#sun and moon show#sams#lunar and earth show#sams lunar#tsams#laes#laes earth#sams earth#sams eclipse#HELP IM CONFLICTED.
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Hey~ Just want to drop a RoR request with terminally ill teen reader. Reader is scare she won't make it and but already made her peace. So, one day, her family overheard her singing this song:
https://youtube.com/shorts/QzKDIgeFmPI?feature=share
And finds out she wants them to sing that song, should she died... Both happy and sad ending, please
I legit made myself cry writing this. I’m gonna combine the two endings, making it sad first then happy.
-Your family was your rock, your cheerleaders, the ones who kept you going as you were fighting so hard.
-They always told you that someone so young, so small, shouldn’t have to fight something like this, a terminal disease that was slowly taking you from them, piece by piece.
-You could see their anger and their tears when they thought you weren’t looking, showering you with nothing but smiles, so you wouldn’t feel so scared, despite being scared themselves.
-You did what you could to help cheer them up, spending time with them, asking each of them questions about their own lives, wanting stories from them.
-You had made peace with your illness when doctors told you that you were terminal, you had been prepared for it, as they feared you were, and when it was announced, you were the only calm one in the room while your family were the ones who were crying, stunned stiff, and even a few who yelled at the doctors, asking if there was anything that could be done.
-There was nothing they could do. The only thing available was to make you comfortable and live each day like it was your last, as they never knew when it would be.
-Your family were always around to spend time with you, to help you with anything that you needed or wanted.
-They were in the backyard, cleaning up the fallen leaves, as winter was soon arriving, the trees shedding their leaves and they wanted the backyard to be clean so when you looked out there, it wouldn’t be a mess.
-Your bedroom window was opened, just a hair, and a soft voice rose over the backyard, singing quietly, until everyone was looking up at your window, stunned stiff, many quickly crying, “If I die young, bury me in satin~ lay me down on a bed of roses~~ sink me int the river at dawn~ send me away with the words of a love song~~”
-Your voice was weak but still so beautiful as you sang to them, unaware they were all listening to you.
-Eve told them, after bringing you some hot honey tea, after asking about the pretty song you had sang, that you wanted them to sing that song for you, so you could hear them when you died, so you could find your way home to them.
-It was only two days later when you left, quietly and without a fuss.
-Adam was the one who found you, shouting out your name and the rest of your massive family were quickly in your room, seeing Adam’s hands on either side of your head, cupping your face as his head was on the bed, his shoulders shaking.
-Loki fell back out of your room, his hands over his mouth as he slid to the ground, sliding down the wall as his tears seemed to rob him of his voice.
-Brunnhilde and Randgriz held Goll tightly as she was sobbing, with Thrud holding all three of them as she cried.
-Eve had collapsed to her knees, sobbing into her hands, crying out your name while Zeus was biting his bottom lip, tears slipping out the sides of his eyes, Poseidon and Hades on either side of him, Hades openly crying and Poseidon stunned, unable to react.
-Kojiro was the one to pull Adam away from you, hugging him tightly when the father turned on him, arms going around him tightly.
-Raiden and Shiva were openly crying, hugging Shiva’s three wives in a group hug, sharing their grief together.
-Buddha had silent tears streaming down his face as he clutched the sobbing Zerofuku, the two hugging each other tightly.
-Odin was one who didn’t cry, staring down at you, seeing the smile on your face, his throat clenched to the point of pain.
-Thor and Lu Bu looked mostly calm, but anyone could see their glares, unshed tears in both of their eyes while Ares was kneeling in front of them, sobbing loudly with Hermes kneeling next to him, hugging his brother, crying himself.
-Jack was calm looking, but he was in anguish, seeing the same color in everyone, overwhelming sadness, it made his heart ache, turning away only to find himself embraced by Hercules, who was crying, and Jack felt his tears welling before easily falling.
-Beelzebub let himself be embraced by Nikola, who hugged him tightly, burying his head in the shorter man’s shoulder, but Beelzebub didn’t realize he was crying himself until he felt his own shoulders shaking with soft sobs.
-You were gone.
-They made you a little shrine in the backyard, a beautiful grave, right in front of the massive tree that you spent so much time under before you were unable to.
-Goll sniffled softly, in Thrud’s arms before she spoke, “What was-was that song that Y/N sang that she wanted us to sing for her?”
-Everyone was mostly silent, not answering before Brunnhilde, who was sitting next to Odin and Adam, began to sing, her head low as she began to cry again, “If I die young, bury me in satin~ lay me down on a bed of roses~~ sink me int the river at dawn~ send me away with the words of a love song~~”
-Odin put his hand on her head, silently comforting her as her shoulders shook with her sobs as she only just barely was able to sing.
-A gentle breeze blew past your crying family, the wind was warm, in comparison to the chilly day and instantly many were smiling, feeling your presence, knowing what you said was true, that song guided you home to them.
-As they packed up your belongings, Kojiro came across a shoebox filled with letters, addressed to all of them, one each, all dated only the day before you had passed, giving each of them words of encouragement and love, telling them to live their lives after mourning you but to not dwell on you, promising each of them that you would come home, just in ways they would least expect it.
-Every letter ended in the same way, just for the different individual, telling them that you loved them so much.
-Your letters, although beautiful and meaningful to each one of them, led to more crying and mourning your loss, but soon they were able to move on, but never forgot about you.
-There wasn’t a day that went by, for each and every one of them, that they didn’t think about you, or look out to your grave, missing your smiling face, but as promised, you were there when the flowers bloomed the next spring, the blossoms that normally grew were a slightly different color, and they bloomed in that shade every year from then on out.
-You were always with them, like how they had always been with you.
#record of ragnarok#ror x reader#ror thor#ror lu bu#ror zeus#ror adam#ror poseidon#ror kojiro sasaki#ror jack the ripper#ror heracles#ror shiva#ror raiden#ror buddha#ror zerofuku#ror nikola tesla#ror beelzebub#ror brunhilde#ror goll#ror ares#ror hermes#ror odin#ror loki
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New anon here please just call me 🧝🏽♀️ Could you write about how the BNHA boys would react when you're on your period!!
(most likely shoto, katsuki, izuku and eijirou!! ^^)
🧝🏽♀️
⊹˚.⋆ WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD - MY HERO ACADEMIA
℘. flora's notes : HELLO ANON, it's so nice to see you there 🥰, i have other works on this theme that u can find here and here if you're interested 💓
℘. no gender specified but the reader has periods xx
m.list | comment or reblog if you enjoyed ! I AM NOT POSTING AT PEAK HOURS I WOULD BE SO GRATEFUL IF U COULD REBLOG
⊹˚.⋆ IZUKU MIDORIYA
℘. izu is ✨ the standard ✨
℘. he keeps track of your cycle on his calendar so that he can buy everything you need beforehand 🥰
℘. isn't ashamed to go to the supermarket buy period products and will gladly do it for you !!!
℘. hates to see you suffer because of your cramps and will take time off his schedule to spend your first day (the most painful day) to cuddle you
℘. he grew up with his mom who gave him all the information he needed to be a perfect boyfriend when he was as young as 10
℘. he knows what you need, what happens and what helps !
⊹˚.⋆ KIRISHIMA EIJIRO
℘. he literally has a drawer dedicated to you with your period products, favourite snacks, skincare products and a heating pad
℘. and it's soooo organized so you can find everything you need right when you need it !
℘. watches sappy rom-coms with you so you can cry all you need
℘. another babe who will hold you during your cramps 🥰
℘. if it's too painful for you, he will wash you. he's not disgusted of your blood AT ALL and he will also take care of your skin if needed
⊹˚.⋆ KATSUKI BAKUGO
℘. urgh his ego
℘. he will buy your products but he will grumble the entire time
℘. honestly, he's happy to be useful and his heart cant help but flutter when he realizes how much you trust him and rely on him
℘. when he sees you wincing because of your cramps he'll go "tsk come here dumbass" and gently put your head in the crook of his neck
℘. he won't watch rom-coms with you, he says he hates them but it's because he's scared he'll get emotional and shed a tear or two 🙄
⊹˚.⋆ SHOTO TODOROKI
℘. legit panicked when you were crying the first time
℘. "y/n what the fuck is going on ? who made you cry"
℘. and he never curses, that means he's stressed out
℘. when you explain he's like "oh" and his mind starts to go to the "what do I know about periods" part of his brain
℘. he leaves without saying a thing and goes to pick up your favourite food
℘. and makes a stop to izu's dorm room so he can ask him questions-
© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)💓
#bnha#bnha x reader#mha imagines#mha x reader#my hero academia#mha smau#mha fluff#bnha fluff#kirishima#kirishima x reader#kirishima eijiro#izuku midoriya#deku#deku x reader#izuku x reader#midoriya x reader#katsuki bakugo#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo fluff#shoto todoroki x reader#todoroki#todoroki x reader#todoroki fluff#bakugo fluff#deku fluff#kirishima fluff#eijirou x reader#eijiro kirishima
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Feelin a little ⚡️sadistic⚡️today and decided to write an alternate future ending for the Cravings series. This is not part of their canon story, but this one would hypothetically take place after Insatiable as a more realistic turnout. This isn’t a continuation because frankly I don’t have a satisfying, or even full ending to this. Its just a thought.
If you liked the ending of Insatiable and want to remain happy with it, DO NOT READ THIS. This is for masochistic peeps who want some heartbreak.
Warnings: only brief mentions of smut but otherwise, this just a downward spiral of worse case scenarios. Some warnings are spoilers so the only one I’m going to list here is drug use and toxic behavior.— I also did very little research here on actual repercussions of drug charges, rehab, or anything really, so please take all of it with less than a grain of salt and focus on the feels
Again DONT READ IF YOU LOVED THE ENDING TO INSATIABLE. this will ruin everything :)
- - - -
You stare at the empty apartment that had become your home for the last two years. That had been filled with so much love, so much laughter and joy. So much insatiable sex and warmth. It’s incredible how much more spacious the floor really is when all the furniture had been removed, how bright the walls really are without any hanging and photos. Despite its small size, it worked just perfectly for you and the man you love. Two years. Memories you could never swipe away despite the cold vacancy of the apartment now, even with the promise of a boundless and full future ahead.
Your hand gently caresses over the hefty bump that has made its own home in you for some months. You sooth your baby’s little kicks, smiling, a tear welling in your eye but you dare not shed it.
You were ready to start the next phase of your life. The one with a home to call your own, a front porch to rock your baby on, a full kitchen to make a true Thanksgiving feast, a bedroom suite, and then extra rooms for a growing family.
You were ready to start your life.
A life without Frankie Morales.
-
You should have known then. With the signs so blatantly evident, like quick temper, aggressive nature in his love making, obsessiveness over you, the jealousy. The way he took too much pride in constantly leaving marks on you. Subtle threats to other men who misinterpreted your kind smile and words as an invite. Forcing you to stay in bed, to take his cock deep into your battered cunt even when you were exhausted. You both thought your orgasms was your way of wanting more, even if the rest of your body protested. but he filled your ears with such sweet praise, touched you with a fervent love that made your heart flutter, adored you like no one else.
From the day you told him you loved him, you should have stopped then, seeing how far he had gone just without you. It wasn’t healthy to rely on someone like that. To say sober. Frankie’s dependence on you was…corrupt. It had been from the beginning.
You ignored it.
Then Frankie and the boys, including Tom which you were surprised by, were called down for a less than legit mission. Tom didn’t come home, and Frankie, the one you knew, didn’t quite come home the same. He didn’t talk to you about it, ever. None of the guys did. You just held him for hours the night he got back, his hair whiter, eyes more sunken in than ever. After some time, things went back to normal. Until you realized, they were never normal to begin with.
The first evident sign that life wasn’t a hallmark movie anymore was when you had been stuck in traffic during a storm, and then had to pull off for hours until it passed; you couldn’t get a signal out to your boyfriend that you were safe, but going to be home late.
3 hours passed by the time you walked into the apartment. Warm Frankie, gentle Frankie, happy Frankie… wasn’t home.
Instead it was feral Frankie, desperate Frankie, curled in a corner, pale and shaking Frankie who only cracked a timid smile when you had walked in, drenched in rain, but alive and concerned for him. He immediately bear hugged you tight, the jitters passing as he inhaled your wet scent. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I promise. I’m so sorry I’m so late,” you soothed.
He didn’t let you leave his sight the entire night. And even into the morning, when you had to get up for work again, he held you against his body in bed, refusing to let you part, distracting you with sex over and over again until half the day had passed. He texted your boss saying you were out sick from the rain last night. No biggie.
He was only calm when you were around. Only satisfied when you were with him.
The guys never told you, but he was irritable when it was just him with them. He didn’t like talking as much. Didn’t laugh the way he used to. It’s like the real Frankie only came out when you were there.
And when you had to take a week for a work trip, he begged you to cancel it. Clawed at his own skin as the day of your flight crept up. Visibly anxious enough that you weren’t sure he’d be okay. “Just stay home, Querida. Please.”
But he’s a grown man. It’s just a little trip, and he’s one phone call away.
So when the week went by, and he missed a few of your calls towards the end, you came home, worried about what you might find. But you were delighted to see Frankie was, in fact, in high spirits, healthy, and seemingly unaffected by your absence. “Mi Hermosa,” he whispered against your lips, bringing you in his embrace and rocking you gently. You made love sweetly that night, and you started to wonder what it is you were so afraid of.
It took you a few weeks before you noticed the slight powdery trail of cocaine on the handle of his gun safe. And guessing the combination as your birthday, discovering bags full of the stuff, some stored and some half opened, and re-opened, half depleted.
You couldn’t even call Frankie, who was away—you didn’t really know where. He would just up and leave sometimes now. Your heart dropped at the idea of exactly where he’s been bouncing off to. You realized he was more static for your the frequent trips you were taking due to your career taking off. that the two of you were spending less time together, but you weren’t really aware of exactly what he was doing during that time. He clearly was never high when he was around you, and was adept at hiding his problem when you were home.
You called the boys. Santi came running over, swearing repeatedly in Spanish at the sight of the stash. Benny and Will came over too, clearing it all out while you sobbed into Pope’s arms. How could you be so stupid to think it was all going so well?
It then all happened so fast: you weren’t even there when they confronted Frankie, didn’t know it went over badly, that he wasn’t gentle at all, still blown high as fuck, and fists went flying, bloody knuckles and broken noses later. Then getting an immediate court date, not able to come up to see you for a second. You were there in the room, only seeing the wrecked look all over his body, the way he couldn’t even bring his eyes to you.
He plead guilty to his drug charges, lost his license indefinitely, and was only spared from a prison sentence with the promise of extensive treatment at a rehab center for at least a year, and a large bond, that you and the guys poured a shit ton of your life savings in to. Then Frankie was being husked away to his hospital-like prison, with no visitations until the first year of intense treatment passed.
It was all coming at such a bad time too, having just thrown out the 3 positive pregnancy tests in the dumpster behind the apartment building just this morning.
None of you told Frankie about the baby before he left. You asked them not to. As far as today went, including Frankie in your life, in your baby’s life, wasn’t an option at the moment. You would deal with that when he was out, when he was Frankie again.
-
Now a few months since the incident, 7 months pregnant, you packed the apartment quietly minus your little sniffles. Pictures of the of you at the fair, in a museum, on vacation in Miami, were packed in a cardboard box and sealed away until you could find your home again. His furniture and belongings went into storage for the time being while your parents found a little house that could accommodate you and baby Morales. With one last look, you close the apartment door, breathing heavily. You hope to see Frankie again the moment he was allowed visitors. To see him smile again just for you. To come to a new home and see his baby boy growing, and filling the time he missed with an infinity of love, devotion, and health.
So when you gave birth all by yourself, and fended two jobs while nurturing your baby all by yourself, and strapped the infant in the car as you drove 4 hours to the rehab center to see your boyfriend all by yourself, it didn’t feel—good, to be told Frankie specifically requested not to have any visitors today. And even when you tried to argue with the receptionist about the situation, to give him your name specifically, she came back with the same answer, and said the patient has a right to refuse visitation, even after it is permitted.
Santi stays with you for a few days after, given what an absolute exhausted wreck you had become after braving the whole year and only running on sheer hope this whole time. The guys rotated shifts, fed you and the baby, cleaned, let you sleep your depression away until you were ready to move on.
Frankie denied their visitation too.
Another year goes by, and still no Frankie. He had gone completely off the grid for everyone. All the doctors reported was that he was responding well, fully taking charge and utilizing the time that he needed to get clean. You learned that he had found a place to live in the area and regularly returned for treatment. But he never once contacted any of you to where he lived.
Good. You were doing much better too.
And when the third year goes by, celebrating your son’s second birthday, you don’t feel such guilt when you stumble upon a new man and invite him in to your life. And how much he takes to loving a son who isn’t his own. And when you feel a sense of excitement after a long time without it, when the new love of your life gets on his knees to propose, asking you to continue to fill his life with a home to share. And when you’re pregnant with another baby, your little Francisco being so excited to be a big brother, in the new house that had never breathed the same air as the man who left you behind all that time ago.
It does become a problem when you answer the knocks on your front door, swinging it open to a very frail, very thin, and very remorseful looking Francisco Morales standing there, looking at the swell in your stomach, wedding ring on your finger, and carbon copy of himself as a child standing at your hip.
- - - -
sorryyyyy
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𐀔 RED STRINGS OF REWIND | n. riki
PRECIS. you and riki meet again, and again, and again, before you run away from him, only for fate to intertwine your paths, and start from zero, all over again. ( 6.75k )
GENRE. vampire ! riki, mystery, thriller, angst
WARNINGS. mentions of blood, hospitals, murder & deaths, depiction of potentially obsessive behaviour, multiple semi-graphic to graphic descriptions of self-harm, reader is kinda sick in the head both literally and metaphorically, riki is psychotic & he isn't actually a vampire or could be one tbh it depends upon your interpretation, transitions from past to present
NOTE. my cue to dip for next few weeks yawl <3 BTW IM SO PROUD OF THE HEADER BUT TUMBLR RUINED IT AND IT LOOKS WEIRD ON PHONE </3 big thanks to sai ( @jungwonize ) for helping me figure out the characteristics of a vampire pls that legit solved half my issues with this fic and also beta-ing this fr he's so <3 if you don't understand what's happening, i recommend you to read the whole thing because that's the only way for this to make sense. see y'all in a few weeks, happy reading <3
the first time you ran away from riki was when you were five. it was a pleasant day and you were enjoying your evening in the playground downstreet, playing catch with other kids around. an escape wasn’t necessary but you had accidently hurt riki while helping him speed up on the swings. that was the first time you had seen the boy shed tears. ultimately, being the last ones remaining, you saw the sun disappear behind the horizon as his sobs increased, the sand turning red due to blood. at that moment, all you could think of was to run; and so you did.
consequently, you started avoiding him at school. despite being just a kindergarten student, you had a keen eye, always looking out for things that could affect you negatively. perhaps, riki made it to that list, and you found yourself noting his every move. you had your eyes on every breath he took, every action, every word. you sat at the bench farthest from his seat in class, yet still your eyes didn’t leave his sight even for a second. you started lying whenever his mother called your mom, saying she was sleeping or simply, not home. you lied about the parents-teacher meeting being cancelled in case your teacher brings up the events from what happened at the park a few days ago.
the same went on for days, weeks even. you saw the everlasting friendship between riki’s and your mom turn shallow, hanging by a thread, on the verge of breaking. you didn’t mean it. the damage, you didn’t want this to turn into something big. your mom has known his mother since her college. being the top students and the best friends they were, they decided to live in the neighbourhood after the death of their husbands. your father died in a car accident. as for riki, from what you recall, his father never existed in the first place.
maybe the gods were on your side because soon after, your mother was fired from her job and luckily enough, your uncle helped her secure a job in the capital. it was nice, living two thousand one hundred and fifty two kilometres away from him, in tokyo, it felt good. you could finally breathe in relief. maybe, you feel bad for your mom since she had to leave her friends. perhaps, a part of you is upset since you had to leave your friends; though, if you had the chance, you would do it all over again.
you wanted to live peacefully. you don’t want people to blame for what happened. you didn't want to be the reason behind the dark blood stained patch on the sand that made the kids shake in fear in the dead of the night.
the second time you ran away from riki was in highschool. it was unbelievable, having him this close to you. you thought you left him behind, in okinawa, however on the first day of highschool, you had him standing in front of you, and you felt your heart sink into a never ending pit of horror. an escape wasn't planned but it was the only way left when he tried to strike a conversation with you. you both were alone in the dance room, a smile plastered on his face as he recalled the events you buried in the past. you felt your heartbeat accelerate, and your first instinct was to run; and so you did.
you spent that day in the cubicle, crying and fighting your anxiety attack. a couple few knocks on the door made their way to you but you didn't respond, knowing you're better off alone.
it felt horrifying to have your past come back to you. having riki standing in front of you was like a nightmare come true. you had noticed the scar of his forehead; reminding you of everything you buried deep, making sure no one would know about it. you wouldn't say you never expected to see him again. your grandparents live on okinawa and every time you visit them, a part of you anticipated seeing the boy somewhere around. it wasn't scary, really, for you don't live in okinawa and riki doesn't know where you live.
things were perfect, better than you had planned initially, since never once did you come across riki in okinawa. you even visited his house, asking neighbours about him and his family. someone said his father came and the family moved to germany with him. however, you knew that was a lie. your mother might've said that his father passed away when he was three, but you know he never had a father in the first place.
so, eleven years later, seeing him all the way in tokyo, attending the same school as you, it was like seeing death on your door. as if the reaper is at your doorstep, asking for your soul. however, your perfect highschool life turned into a pit of hell when the incident you've been hiding resurfaced again and this time, on a public stage.
‘how did you get your scar?’ a student had asked him, and you froze in your seat. the greater gods weren’t on your side since in the second half of second year, riki transferred to your class. you don’t know how that happened— or if it’s even allowed— he just did, and sat right behind you as you felt the situation grip out of your hands day by day. you expected him to disclose the intels to everyone the way he stared into your back. your heart skipped beats whenever his hand brushed past your back, or when he randomly grew a habit to play with your hair in the middle of science lessons. you didn’t think riki had any intentions of ruining things for you; that is, until that question was brought up during self study class.
you heard him shift his eyes on you as he smiled at the question. ‘ah, it’s a long story.’ he had responded. your grip around the pen in your hand tightened. suddenly, geometry was long forgotten and all you could focus on were the words leaving his mouth. ‘i was playing in a park with a friend,’ he continued, and you gripped the measuring compass, pressing its needle into the desk as your pulse surged up. ‘and got injured. the friend, however,’ you felt his gaze settling on your back once again, goosebumps rising at the sudden eerie change in the air. you lifted the divider off the desk, your right hand fisted up so tightly that you felt your nails leave marks on your palm. ‘what about the friend?’ the student asks, and oh how you wished you could wipe them off their curiosity forever.
sitting and letting him continue would be a mistake, like digging your own grave and waiting for someone to bury you. you couldn’t tell him to stop because that’d be no better than showing up at death’s door. ‘the friend, well,��� you felt him digging holes on your back by the way he’s staring at you. you felt him smirking through his words and sitting would be a mistake, so you took the measuring device and pierced through your wrist, making a deep wound that stained your shirt red, the same way riki’s blood stained the sand.
the students gasped, teachers rushed in, you were escorted to the infirmary. no one questioned about the injury, why or how it happened. their questions concerned your wellbeing and nothing else. their eyes were on you while yours were on riki, who waved at you with a smile before turning his attention towards the blood splatter on your desk like a moondrunk monster. that was the third time you ran from riki. an escape was vital and your first instinct was to get away from him; and so you did.
you didn't attend school after that.
the first few days were off as an excuse for your injury. you deliberately went for your dominant hand, knowing it would offer greater impact than any other part. it was a sporadic decision, yet proven to be worth the pain. you had your friends drop notes at your house, occasionally checking up on you as well. but as your hand got better, the reasons to stay home narrowed to a few numbers, ones that you can count on your fingers. so, burdened by the need of the hour, you prepared another plan.
attending school after three weeks would've been amazing if your brother hadn't called the local suicide hotline. it was six-thirty in the morning, you were in your room while your mom had sent your brother to call you for breakfast, only for him to find on your bathroom tiles, all red and pale from the blood loss from your previously injured wrist. you hated him for calling the suicide hotline. it was a wasted move, but you couldn't blame him when he made things easier for you.
news spreads fast, and gossip spreads faster. the details about you were headlines, if anything. while your teachers worried about you for taking such destructive measures, a few of your friends started suspecting that you had gone crazy. one of them saw you stab your own wrist, other heard you mumbling to yourself. you were also spotted staring at riki with your gaze bearing daggers against his neck. an anonymous post from a kindergarten classmate claimed you to be 'obsessive,' briefing about how you used to stare at riki all day, like a predator eyes their prey.
in just two months, the tables turned and you became the 'creepy' one amongst them. soon after, you stopped having visitors. while you declined some of their visits, others stopped caring about you, as if you would come for them next. your days started feeling longer than usual as your stay at the hospital increased. from psychic ward to er and from er to psychic ward, those were your only two destinations for the next few months. bottles of pills and syrups awaited for you thrice a day as the excessive test procedures became your only companion in the house of dead.
you had spent nights laughing and crying about your poor condition. you didn't think you would ever end up this way, between machines and syringes, taking pills as if they constituted a major part of your meals. it was pathetic, almost shameful. you were tired of running. you changed cities to escape riki. now, you're holding death's hand to save yourself from the same boy you thought you had left behind. you had considered quitting altogether at some point. you remember cutting your wrist right above a major artery, making it deep enough to drench the sleeves of your white hospital gown. you expected it to be the last time you would see your mother. however, you woke up amongst tubes and bandages the next morning, feeling weaker than ever.
your eyes fell upon your mother's pale figure, noticing how thin she had gotten since the last time you saw her. a nurse informed you that you had woken up after four days and your mother didn't even drink enough water during that period. that day, for the very first time in years, you wondered about how this might be affecting her.
suddenly, this game about life and death made no sense. running from riki seemed illogical. staying in the four walls of your hospital room started making you feel suffocated. watching your mother fight for your life day and night made you question your ways for the very first time. for the first time, you wondered if what you had been doing was right. you were ready to quit your act, deciding to change your ways, just for your mother, but that was until riki's name showed up on your mother's phone one night. a look at the call log signified that she had been in touch with riki all along, taking almost every day, texting even.
it felt unreal, like a betrayal. sure, your mother doesn’t know a thing about what you had been planning for years, but riki, of all people, it felt like living with a knife up your throat, and you realised that staying with your mother would be an open invitation to let riki into your life again. so, you decided to run again.
2 : 49 am — you had it planned. you left your room eleven minutes before three in the morning, knowing damn well that your mother would have the best sleep of her life with those five pills of temazepam you had managed to get your hands on after the doctor prescribed her a stronger medication for insomnia. somewhere inside, maybe, you felt guilty for deceiving your mother; or more like, overdosing her with sedatives to execute your escape plan. but none of it seemed to stagger you when the thoughts about your mother keeping in touch with riki flooded your mind.
echoing footsteps with moonlight illuminating the empty corridors, it was too late before you realised that you ran in all the wrong directions, trying not to bump into any hospital staff. you had seen it in the movies, but mortuaries always felt creepier than they make it to be in fictions. there’s an eerie glow in the air, one you can’t see but feel as fear crawls up your skin. you ran your fingers over the ice cold walls, strolling through the empty floor, finding your way out. despite the sinister flow in the air, your heart felt at ease, unlike your thoughts running at a thousand miles per second.
you drag yourself towards the elevator, legs almost giving up from the fatigue stacking up inside of you, the lack of food finally surfacing as your blood adorned fingers leave their imprints on the white walls. you were so busy escaping that you didn’t realise when the dressing on your wrist loosened, consequently making the blood drip down your hands everywhere you go. the elevator chimed, marking someone’s arrival, and before you could process the situation, his name fell off your lips.
‘riki—’ you had whispered in fear, stepping away from him as his feet ascended towards you. there was a smile on his face. not that you could see it, for he was looking at the floor, but you heard his faint chuckle spin into the air. ‘you shouldn’t leave any hints if you’re trying to escape,’ he had answered, wiping off a speckle of blood from his lips as his vision sharpened at the sight of the blood streaming down your hand. his antics were beyond your comprehension. maybe, he was the crazier one between the two of you. he called your name, voice pitched low as your breath hitched. another step towards you and you were running away with tears brimming your eyes.
the escape was impromptu, but equally necessary. your sense of direction dissipated as tears blurred your vision, heartbeat pacing up as you heard his footsteps echoing closely behind you. at that moment, you wondered if running away from him for the first time was the right choice. you could’ve helped him reach his home— which was just a few blocks away from yours— maybe, could have explained the whole situation to his mother and owned up to your mistakes. at that moment, the seventeen-year-old you pitied the five year old yn for the direction your life would proceed in after that innocent incident. and again, you could’ve helped him— could’ve— but you chose not to, for the five year old you were petrified at the sight of the boy looking at his own blood lusciously.
a striking pain surged up your ankles, and you found yourself rolling down the stairs; and if you recall correctly, you had screamed. it was more of a shriek, or a shout for help, one that alerted the couple few staff monitoring the mortuary. their muffled voices reached your ears as the pain emerging from your head seemed to nullify all your senses. you don’t remember a lot from that day, except him, or the way he stared at you with a frown sitting on his face as the nurses put you on the stretcher, a frown that morphed into a menacing smile soon before as your mind gave up on keeping you conscious.
which leads to the present day— in nagoya, where you’re living with your mother— surprisingly — doing quite well at twenty-seven, working as a lawyer at a local law firm. there are days when you look in the mirror, letting your eyes fall over all the scars you have given yourself. you let your mind trace over all the dreaded memories from the past, wondering how you made it out. it was quite funny, actually, resorting to death to escape it.
you haven't heard from riki in the past ten years. not that you want to, but he didn't try to contact your mother like he used to. he's just a sweet little kid in your mother's heart who stopped calling her one day. he's just a figment of her memory, or like a wild nightmare for you. you had heard from your mother that riki's mom passed away a few months after he started attending highschool, and that she sent him money every month to support him.
she's upset, but you're glad he's gone. you're thankful to the deities for finally putting him out of your life. your life feels easier. the incident from your childhood no longer sends chills down your spine. your mother looks healthier, you don't walk on eggshells anymore. occasionally, you wake up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating, whenever an incident from the past slips into your mind as a dream, but it’s fine. you have medications for them. you take medicines for anxiety attacks, for migraines, insomnia, and a lot more, honestly. your problems haven’t disappeared. they’re still there, actively being the reason for the tear stains on your pillow. they are still here, inside your mind, or beside you, walking hand in hand to remind you that you aren’t perfect— you never were. despite your perfect grades and physique, you struggle to remember things. you take antidepressants to continue with your profession. it was a fight, a war, maybe; it still is, and will continue to be one, but it feels nice to live this way, as if the universe has offered you a second chance at life. maybe, it was all worth the risk, worth enough for you to do it all over again.
“you’re zoning out again,” a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and it belongs to jay. his soft laughter spins into the air, mixing with the fragrant vanilla and cinnamon filling the cafe’s atmosphere with its magic. it feels nice to live this way because you have jay.
you had met him in college when you got lost on the campus. it was your second day, after all, and the locked rooms along with the lack of lighting on the deranged floor reminded you of the hospital. you were close to breaking down when you heard footsteps approaching you, accompanied with a concerned voice. that day, he didn’t leave your side even after classes, making sure to drop you home before continuing on the way to his’.
jay is a nice guy. yeah, he teases you a lot, points out your horrible sense of direction in front of your other colleagues, makes fun of the way you whine every time you have to work past the destined working hours, but it’s fine. he helps you whenever possible, has reserved his weekends for you unless work stacks up his desks. he feels like the highschool friend you wanted to have, like the person you would’ve had a crush on in school if he helped you with your assignments. in short, jay is nice, and even being twenty-seven year old with several never-ending issues didn’t stop you from falling for him.
“ah, by the way,” he speaks up again, gaining each and every ounce of your attention. “i won’t be able to drive you home today.”
“it’s fine. i can go by myself." those are the words you tell, however, a part of you feels upset since you planned on asking him for dinner. "honestly, i don’t know why you drive me home when i live just fifteen minutes away.”
“maybe because your directional sense is basically non-existent?” he mocks and you both step out of the cafe, your steps following him to his car. “still, take care. you know that killer is still out there, right?”
“of course,” a pause. you wonder if jay has something to say— and you swear you're not letting your hopes escalate higher than they already are. over the years, you have learnt to wish for the best and that's all you're trying to do right now.
“do you also think he's a vampire?” he asks, referring to the person the team had indicted this morning.
the question leaves you astonished. one wouldn't expect him to bring up a case that isn't his. jay has his habits— a fixed schedule, appointment limits, minding his own business— there are more. so, having him strike a conversation about something that didn't concern him was new. "what?”
“i don’t believe in vampires and all, but have you seen the fang imprints on the victims’ neck? it seems plausible, no matter how much i try to overlook it.” no, really, as an attorney, you could only think of how obscene this all sounds. you have heard about the rumours, they say the culprit is actually a vampire so hunts every wednesday, sucking people off their blood and leaving them to die, thus earning the notorious name; the vampire killer.
at the age of four, riki told you about vampires. he asked you if you knew what they were, and you responded with the classic definition that any other four year-old would've given. 'bad people who drink blood and are scared of the sun' with an uninterested grimace. your brows furrowed as you saw a sour expression settle in his face. that's when he told you another fact about vampires— they have a set target, and they chase it until it's theirs, no matter how long it takes.
you don't recall if he added anything else, not that you understand his words either, but the smirk on his face told you that riki liked vampires, probably a lot more than anyone else did.
“even if he is, they can’t say that in court,” and to be very honest, you don't want to involve yourself in a case that isn't yours either. it simply isn't worth the time. sure, the rumours going around may fuel everyone's curiosity, but not yours.
he sighs, getting into his car before rolling down the windows. “see you tomorrow. let me know if you get lost on your way home,”
“i will,” you affirm with a laugh, watching him drive away as you proceed to your walk back home.
the last time you represented a murder case was ten months ago, never again. you had a hard time dealing with everything. every mention of dead bodies reminded you of him. but you knew it was all your imagination, for riki was never a serial killer. he was just a boy, though with unusual habits, but still just a boy you had known long ago.
yet you still had your suspicion. you spent days wondering if he's schizophrenic or something along those lines, or if psychosis got the best of him. a clearer look into his condition led you to haemophilia— obsession with blood— which is fine, really, not everyone is the same. people are born different, with distinct characteristics. riki happened to be one of the very few; and honestly, he was never the one to fit the crowd.
you halt in the middle of the streets, interrupted by a call that displays 'prosecutor jung' on your phone screen. “hello?”
"attorney yn, you're required to report at the prosecution office urgently."
"right now?" you ask, confused by the sudden request and that too, two hours after your shift is over. "i'm almost home."
"we have, uh, a few things to discuss about the vampire killer case with you. please report as soon as possible."
and the next second, you hear silence devouring the other side of the line. you sigh, texting your mom that you'd be late so she doesn't have to stay up. call it overthinking or parental care, but even at twenty-seven, your mom looks after you like a five year old. you've had your aunts tell you to move out but honestly, you're having a good time living with your mother. it's better than living alone, given your health conditions.
resultantly, you make your way back to the law firm. this time, with a butter face. the extra working hours don't affect you anymore. you've done that a lot and it's a part of job responsibilities at this point. what's has your attention is the topic of concern, the vampire killer, a case you aren't associated with in any way. you haven't even read all the articles they had published regarding the case, and even if you had, you aren't sure if you would change your mind about the case being an utter idiocy.
you arrive at the firm, taking the elevator to the main prosecution office situated on the fourth floor. the building feels lonelier at night, especially with just a few people working in their cabins as even the quietest of sounds fills in the eerie silence. lifts and hallways always remind of the hospital and everything that had happened there. your skin runs cold whenever you find yourself in an alone hallway at night as the urge to run away tries to conquer your mind.
you have learnt to pay it no mind, though, just like now, as you walk up the empty halls while humming a song to put your mind at ease finally arriving at the designed venue.
"attorney yn," she shoots you an exhausted smile, the fatigue evident on her face. "thank you for coming."
you didn’t want to, actually; she forced you to come. and her being your senior, you had to follow her orders no matter how much you loathe it. "it's alright. what did you want to talk about?"
"yes," she turns around to grab a few documents off her desk before turning back to you. "we've been trying to question our prime suspect. however, he refuses to say anything without a lawyer. here are the files—"
"wait," you interject her words, cutting her off mid sentence. "why me? i mean, i'm not a criminal lawyer."
"we'll, you were requested by the suspect." she explains, her words making you freeze in your stance. "he claims to know you and wouldn't accept any other attorney."
you don't ask further questions, or rather, are not allowed to as mrs. jung and her team escorts you to the questioning room. she assures you that you only have to ask a few questions and after that, their lawyer would take over, but honestly, that's none of your concerns at the moment.
you don’t even know the name of the person indicted. they prefer not disclosing it. you haven’t even seen him because of your sheer indifference towards the case. you don’t know anything except that, his victims die of anaemia. you’ve had your suspicion— it’s him— and you’d be lying if you say you didn’t sleep for days when the news broke out. the truth is, you never recovered from the trauma. you claim to have forgotten the boy you used to play for hours with. you say his name doesn’t affect you anymore. however, the mere news about the blood-thirsty killer in the neighbourhood was a spark to your fears, gradually igniting it, and now it burns like a forest.
amidst all, you find yourself standing before the questioning room, ready to go in, and you have your one thing clear : this isn’t about riki. but that’s just something you’re convincing yourself to believe in for your sake.
you open the door, stepping in, eyes wide open at the sight of complete emptiness in the room, except one police official standing in a corner. you sigh in relief, taking a seat, maybe you weren’t just ready to face the suspect; or perhaps, you simply didn’t want to. the officer informs you that the person you’re about to would be back shortly, for he has gone to the washroom. in the meantime, you decide to look through the intels regarding the case, provided in a file handed over by the prosecutor in charge. there’s no picture— or maybe they didn’t add one— which is odd. there are blank spaces all over the pages with very few details written along the lines : suspect is in his late twenties, unemployed, lives alone, is conjectured to be suffering from renfield’s syndrome— those words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.
you don’t know much about that term. actually, scratch that, you don’t know anything about it at all. you don’t think the team handling the case does either, for there’s only scarce information present in the documents given to—
“it’s been a while, yn.” your breath hitches, heart skipping a few beats before beating restlessly. shivers shoot down your spine as your grip around the papers tightens, crumbling their corners. “we meet again.”
it’s him, you know it, it is him, nishimura riki— you know. he hasn’t changed much. riki still has his devilish eyes beholding a sinister glow. the menacing smirk still adorns his face like diamond jewellery. it has been ten years but the way your name rolls off his tongue still makes your skin crawl, giving you chills as all those memories flood back inside your mind. there’s a pen in your pocket, and you wonder if running away is still an option. you bite the inside of your bottom lips, tapping your foot nervously on the granite floor as the taste of iron conquers your mouth. a part of you wonders how riki would react to that. you look at the officer, and then contemplate doing exactly what you did in highschool.
“you can’t run away now.” riki chuckles. it’s more of a taunting laughter, one that reminds you of all the olden times. it’s infuriating and at the same time, is inducing fear inside your veins. you can’t look him in the eyes— you won’t— it’s the same as losing a game at the cost of your life. you take a sharp breath, digging nails into the palm of your hands once again, before his next words manage to seize your attention. “why have you been running from me, yn?”
it’s an innocent question, really, you wonder if the cameras in the room make you seem like a socially incapable person at the moment. “i’m in a hurry so let’s make this quick—”
“tell him to go out.” you flinch at his words, you always do. there’s nothing in the world that makes you shake in fear as much as riki’s presence. you look at the officer, and then at riki— his lips, because you don’t want to look into his eyes ever again. his words ring inside your head while you consider his request. “you’re taking a lot of time for someone who’s in a hurry, yn.”
you want him to stop calling your name. it’s not appropriate, quite literally, because you’re no longer friends. you’re his attorney and he’s your client, you want to create a line between, though, you dare not to. you look at the officer, gesturing to him to leave as he hesitates for a brief second before stepping out of the room. your instincts are telling you that it was a wrong move, for being alone with riki is equivalent to standing at gunpoint where the trigger pulls when the timer goes off.
“alright, let’s star— let me just—”
“my god, yn, you’re shaking.” he cuts you off, making your fingers wince at his voice. your gaze falls upon the floor, blinking nervously as you bite the inside of your cheeks, making your blood hold the only taste in your mouth. your eyes follow his actions as he stands up from his seat, the metal chair sliding against the floor, making you wince again, taking a sharp breath as he crouches in front of you. “are you scared?”
his voice is no louder than a whisper, but it resonates like a loud thud against your ears. as if someone is screaming in your ears. irritability surges inside of you as you start pricking the skin alongside your nails obsessively, glancing into the camera, waiting for someone to arrive and help you get out of this. the silence in the room trails on your skin, eating you out, before you decide to take the matter in your own hands.
you stand up, pushing your chair away from him with your legs as you exhale heavily. “please, go back to your seat.” you don’t look at him, actively avoiding his sight by running your gaze all over the room anxiously, but you feel his eyes on you like a burden on your shoulders. there’s a sudden shift in the air as he stands up, dragging his chair just next to yours before taking a seat and waiting for you to continue.
“is this okay?” it’s not, and you hate how you feel as if you’ve lost your ability to speak and counter his actions, simply nodding as you sit apprehensively on your chair. you pick one of the files, frantically going through the pages instead of reading it with proper attention. at this point, the case is the last thing you care about. with a heart pacing unbelievably fast, you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack, while your mind is reciting nothing but chants and prayers for the prosecution team to come inside.
riki’s eyes follow your gaze, watching you as you flip though the documents, sweat covering your forehead. his irises settle upon your hand, the one you had injured deliberately in highschool, and then the scars on your fingers and wrist that you had acquired over the years, finally residing upon a certain word on one of the papers that makes him chortle. “do you know about renfield’s syndrome?”
it’s a question that leaves you perplexed, making you freeze in your stance. “yes— i mean, no, i don’t.”
“it’s clinical vampirism, obsession with drinking blood.” there’s slight amusement in his voice as he inches towards you, whispering those words with a straight face. that’s the first time in years you look into his dreadful eyes. a pause, silence fills in the air between the two of you before he claps abruptly, startling you with his maniacal laughter. "it's crazy, right? people don't want to accept that vampires exist so they make it a medical condition."
your blood runs cold at the sound of his laughter. riki was arrested as the prime suspect for one of the most gruesome cases, yet no remorse has been evident on his face ever since you stepped inside the room. you pay his words no mind— try to—because indulging into his thought process would do more to you than you want done, and is, if anything, unnecessarily time consuming. "what were you doing this thursday?"
you inquire, waiting for his response, but not a word comes out of his mouth. he leans against the chair, playing with the ring on his index finger with a stoic face. your breath fastens again, nervousness creeping in as the silence drowns you inside of it. you're scared of riki's words, but you fear his silence even more. it's like a thousand screams lay unveiled behind his silence, and he looks at you as if you're going to be one of them soon.
"why do you always run away from me, yn?" there's sadness dripping off his words along with unknown beads of guilt. "from the playground, then school. you had always run away from me." he removes his ring, placing it on the table before looking at you with a luscious glint in his eyes, the one you saw that day, in the playground. "it makes me want to chase you even more."
another series of villainous laughter spins in the air as you stand up, rushing towards the door to call for help, only for him to make you trip on the calloused floor with his legs. you think you’re finally connecting the dots. however, you don’t want to accept it. his questions hold no meaning to you since he knows exactly what happened. riki knows you didn’t run away from the playground. you told him to stay while you called someone for help, but you turned around when his sobs stopped, only to see him devouring on his bleeding knee succulently. running away was the only escape for the five year old you, who had witnessed her only friend turn out to be a devillious monster.
you fist up your hands again, wanting the nails to pierce through the skin of your palms. you find yourself in the same situations you used to run from in the past, except, there are no escapes with time. your vision blurs as a single tear rolls down your cheeks while you attempt to stand up again.
"there, there; let me help you," the only sound you're able to perceive is his footsteps approaching you as he locks the door, sliding the key back inside his pocket before crouching in front of you once again. “c’mon yn, stop running away. don’t you think we should catch up after all these years?”
strings of no’s fall off your lips along with the tears streaming down your face as you drag yourself away from him, against the cold floor. you look towards the cctv, praying that someone would report soon. truthfully, they should’ve been outside, checking up on the situation since it has taken so much time. you hear riki sigh before shooting you a pitiful gaze. “you know, the cctv isn’t working.”
and just like that, the last strands of hope you’ve been holding onto breaks as you look into the eyes of the person you’ve been running from all your life. it feels as if the world has stopped with your breath caught up inside your throat. you watch his lips curl into a smirk as he inches closer to you, halting a few inches before your ears, whispering, "no one will come." and before you could react, you felt his fangs pierce through your neck as you feel all your senses died down.
perhaps, your biggest mistake is that you saw a friend in a monster. you had known it all along, his habits, the way you saw his mother drink down his father's blood— all of it; and yet, you wanted to believe riki was different. the truth is that everyone is the same under their varied skin. their true colour surfaces according to the need, making them someone the world never assumes them to be, like the innocent boy you once knew became your worst nightmare. and now, all you could do is wait to die as the excruciating pain makes it harder for you to breathe with every passing second.
and hour flies by, and the door finally unlocks, revealing a gruesome scene mrs. jung— blood splatters on the floor and on the wall, scratches on riki's faces, signifying that you had tried to fight, although ending up losing terribly. your pale blue body catches her attention, especially your lifeless eyes that still stare at with disappointment and shock. riki stands up in a daze, handing her his blood-drenched handkerchief. "her mother is next."
taglist in the rbs.
#—approved.#@ : rsr.#enhypenwriters#kflixnet#ficscafe#enhypennetwork#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen angst#nishimura riki#enhypen niki#enhypen nishimura riki#riki x reader#riki angst#enhypen fic#riki fic#enhypen au#riki au#enhypen vampire au#riki imagines#enhypen imagines
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Guzma as an expecting father! headcanons
ignore the fact I'm a day late for father's day, it's dilf! guzma time!
features: pregnancy and discussion of symptoms, a smidge of angst, and some mild references to sex
Enjoy!
Oh shit.
Well, this wasn’t part of the plan
It’s not necessarily unexpected though
Admittedly, you two had been rather lax when it came to protection
And as much as he talked up his pull-out game, Guzma found it very hard to put his money where his mouth is when he’s about to bust a fat nut
So here you are
His baby
His fucking cinnamon applin
Almost in tears as you tell him that you’re pregnant
From all the shock, he doesn’t know what to say
He doesn’t know what to feel either
His mind is a swirl of emotions
It takes him a moment (or several minutes) to fully comprehend the situation
Not great, since you’re freaking the fuck out waiting for his response
Eventually, he just gives you a big, reassuring hug and tells you that he’s here for you, and your baby too.
In reality, Guzma likes the idea of having a family with you
And you’re his boo, he’d do anything to support you, no matter what
He really really wants to be a good dad
A provider for your burgeoning family
The kind of man you deserve
So first things first – well after he takes you both out for malasadas to calm yourselves down and celebrate - he’s gotta get a job
He’ll take anything
Fast-food chef, janitorial duties, cashier, Pyukumuku thrower…
Hopefully some professional battling to get some legit earnings
Next thing, you two are moving OUT of the Shady House
And by extension Po Town
That place is not suitable for babies
You don’t stray too far though
Getting yourselves a cramped (but thankfully two-bed) apartment in Malie City
Lowkey
And by that, I mean HIGHKEY
Guzma thinks you’re hot af pregnant
Man is like 100 times more handsy
Which is wild considering how handsy he already was
But his touches are a lot gentlerand loving
Though still quite protective and possessive
My man may or may not have shed a tear when he felt that first kick
Guzma goes back and forth on whether or not to propose to you
On one hand, he loves you, and he wants to give your baby a more stable home
But on the other, he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s just doing this because you’re pregnant and it’s “the right thing to do”
Plus, weddings are so stressful
And expensive!
Eventually, he decides to wait until after your baby is here to propose
After all, they’d make such a cute little flower boy/girl on the big day!
God-mon Plumeria!
You two set up the cutest little nursery for youe baby
Ideally he wanted to fill it with brand-new stuff
But that wasn’t totally feasible, so many things are second-hand
Some from when you were born!
One of the new items though, is a cutiefly teddy
It was the first thing he bought for the baby
First thing he bought from his first pay-cheque actually
Walking home tired and stressed from his first week on the job
He’s usually pretty good at dealing with your symptoms
Gives you back-rubs, holds your hair back when you’re getting sick, over-indulges your weird-cravings…
Seriously he went out at four a.m. trying to find somewhere that sold pickled lumberries so you could have them with some yogurt and peanut butter
Though considering the fact he is new to all this + he has 0 patience things can get a bit hairy sometimes
Like he is not good at handling any mood-swings
Or when baby kicks him in his sleep
One thing he does enjoy about you being pregnant is that you’ve taken to wearing his clothes a lot more
They’re big on you, so they’re perfect for your changing body
We all know how he feels about you in his clothes 👀
He keeps ultrasound pictures on him at all times
Just as a reminder of his little larva
Makes the tough days easier
He loves being the big spoon even more now
Finding great comfort and excitement in holding you and cradling your bump while he falls asleep
When baby finally comes
Yall know ya boi is gonna be right by your side
Doing his best to support you through this traumatic, demanding time
(though I can also totally see him just chilling, casually eating a sandwich while you’re pushing out a LITERAL human baby from your bits)
Once baby pops out, and you get to hold your little one
Guzma wraps his arms around both of you, gazing at the wonderful life you’ve created together
And after a moment he asks:
“So, Guzma Jr.?”
“Absolutely not!”
#guzma#guzma x reader#guzma pokemon#guzma headcanons#guzma pokemon x reader#guzma pokemon headcanons#ya boi guzma#pregnancy
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oct' 07 x chestnuts
Prompt: chestnuts
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Bryony Morgan (OFC)
Word Count: 982
Warnings: un-beta'd is the name of the game, barely a mention of the prompt, unabashed hippo content with a touch of spice with the mention of oral sex (f receiving)
Summary: no clue how we started at chestnuts, through to hippos, but here we are - I just love these two
x. masterlist
Dieter's office was a paradox in every sense of the word—meticulously disorganized, both casual and sophisticated. A space Bryony had always suspected he rarely worked in, yet one that seemed to capture the essence of him so completely that you couldn't help but think it was an extension of his personality.
Bifold doors filled the back wall of the room that looked out to the garden behind his desk. Built in bookcases framed both sides of the room, all filled with various trinkets outlining both Dieter’s career and interests. His Oscar for ‘Hunger Strike’ stood amongst the trove, topped with a knitted hat Cricket had made a couple Christmases ago. The walls were adorned with paintings of Dieter’s own creations, framed and hung with care by Bryony.
“Conkers.”
“Con-kas?” Dieter repeated, a poor imitation of Bryony’s accent which earned him a pointed stare, “is this one of your weird British-ism things?”
Bryony shot him another glare, “It’s not weird, and it’s legit what they’re called.” she insisted, glancing at a ceramic hippo paperweight on his desk as if to imply that he was no stranger to 'weird.'
“Chestnuts.” Dieter countered.
“Conkers” Bryony reaffirmed, her eyes momentarily landing on the Oscar statue. Despite the hat, it looked oddly dignified.
Dieter chuckled, ripping the foil of a KitKat with a satisfying tear. “And they say I’m the one in this relationship that’s off balance.”
“Well you are the man who is eating a KitKat, that he had my mother send him from the UK because they taste better than the American ones.” Bryony shot back, smirking as she looked over at the bookshelf nearest the sectional she was lounging on, it was filled with scripts, a mixture of fiction and nonfiction, and, of course, more hippos.
“Because they are,” Dieter said, defending his KitKat as if it were a point of honour. He snapped off a piece, biting into it with a satisfied grin.
“I know,” Bryony smirked.
“Châtaignes,” Dieter pronounced carefully, his mouth full of chocolate and wafer.
“Huh?” Bryony blinked, puzzled.
“Châtaignes,” he repeated again once he’d finished eating, “chestnuts in French, because I know it’s going to be your next question.”
Bryony smiled, because it was going to be her next question - she could listen to the man talk French, and he did at length, all day. He’d perfected his French lilt over the years since he started learning at twelve thinking it would help him with girls.
His parents, European immigrants to the States well before Dieter was born, had long shed their own individual languages when they’d moved continents in an effort to assimilate to their new home. Though his relationship with his parents taut, he had a distinct memory of his mother talking about a French man who had courted her before his father came along. She still had romantic notions about the man decades later and owed it in part to the language he would speak which left a lasting impression on a young Dieter.
Bryony shook her head, amused. “You're insufferable.”
“And yet you suffer me,” Dieter replied with a cocky grin.
She glanced at the other trinkets around the room, particularly the hippo memorabilia. “Fiona still your muse?”
“My pride and joy,” he said, looking at the framed picture, signed in a childish scrawl as if the six-year-old hippo from Cincinnati Zoo had autographed it herself. “You know, they sent me a video update just last week. She's growing so beautifully.”
“You're the only adult I know who gets this excited about a hippo,” Bryony chuckled, amused.
“Jealous much?” Dieter waggled his brows, standing up to lean against the edge of his antique, walnut desk, which Bryony suspected had never seen a single day's work.
“Jealous of Fiona?” Bryony quirked an eyebrow. “No, although I wish I could get as much attention for just existing.”
“You don't need to be a cute hippo to get my attention,” Dieter said, the playful tone in his voice shifting ever so slightly towards sincere. “You've always had it.”
Bryony felt a warmth in her cheeks but chose to keep the atmosphere light. “Well, as long as I rank higher than a KitKat on your list of priorities, I think we're good.”
“You're definitely higher than a KitKat,” Dieter said, “but let's not get into dangerous territory by discussing where you stand in relation to Fiona.”
“Ah, so it's like that, is it?” She smirked, as she sat up on the sofa..
Dieter took another bite of his KitKat, savoring it. “Mmm, it's exactly like that.”
“This room is a trip, you know.” Bryony tapped the glass top of the surprisingly large coffee table as if to emphasize her point. It was held up by a bronze hippo with its baby underneath, “Only you could make this collection work.”
“You think it works?” He looked genuinely pleased.
“Absolutely. It's you, distilled into a room.”
Dieter chuckled and put down the remains of his KitKat, reaching his hand down to help Bryony stand from the sofa, “Speaking of things that work, I think it's worth noting that you fit pretty well into all of this, don't you think?”
She looked up at him, caught a bit off guard by the sudden change of tone as his arms wrapped around her waist.
Dieter eyed the obnoxious coffee table with a sly raise of his eyebrow, “No, Dieter.”
“What?”
“I’m not having sex with you on that thing.”
“I didn’t say have sex, in fact I didn’t say anything.”
“Dieter I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Well then Daff,” Dieter purred and before Bryony could protest found herself being lowered onto the glass table, the cold sting of the glass quickly replaced by the warmth of Dieter’s hands pushing up the oversized t-shirt she was wearing, the only thing she was wearing. “How about I reacquaint myself with you then?”
#october x 500#autumnal offerings#dieter x bryony#dieter bravo fanfic#dieter bravo fanfiction#dieter bravo x ofc#dieter bravo x oc#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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ok so um. There’s certainly plenty to be said about Way of Water, plenty of lil comments I want to make...but before I can post about any of that (separately), I just need to ramble about Neteyam a little bit. Bear with me. ;_;
(yes, this will be spoilery)
so the idea that Neteyam was going to die had already been pretty prominent in the fandom for several months. At first it seemed to me to be based on nothing but wild speculation for potential sad plot points. But the more and more promotional material came out, the more and more plausible the theory became, much to my dismay. By the time we reached release day, I had already (if reluctantly) resigned myself to thinking that yes, it was probably going to happen.
And sure enough, it did.
Even going in knowing full well it was extremely likely to happen, even going in having 100% accepted that it was bound to happen and fully expecting it....gosh it still hurt to watch.
I will admit, I did not cry nearly as much as I expected to during this movie. I teared up a bit multiple times, definitely felt the physical heartache plenty, but nothing spilled over. I thought this was kinda weird, given that previously I’d shed tears even over certain shots from the trailer.
When Neteyam died and I absolutely felt my heart breaking in two yet tears still didn’t fall despite the emotional pain I was absolutely in, I realized why: I was just really dehydrated ^^;
see, worried about having to use the bathroom during the long runtime, I’d been very careful to drink as little as possible throughout the day. Well....it technically worked I guess. I certainly didn’t need to go to the bathroom. but it looks like it dried up most of my tears too (maybe not a wholly bad thing given that this was in public, I suppose).
....and yet despite that, DESPITE my dehydration........that ending???? that ending?????? let’s just say I STILL managed to leave the theater with a tearstained face
“bittersweet” is certainly A Word
just
m a n 😭
and I mean. from a writing perspective, I get it. I really do. The “before your birth, after your death” etc theme ran throughout the movie. Using an unrelated character to do it wouldn’t have as strong an emotional impact as using one of the core family. I get it. As a narrative choice, it makes sense.
but from an in-universe/character-pov perspective....gosh golly that hurt. that hurrrrrrrttttt and I don’t know if I’m ok. ngl i legit feel vaguely ill ;_;
My current job is fairly mindless work, so while I’m working my brain can wander. Naturally today my mind was on the fact that I’d been seeing the movie later so of course I thought a lot about it. Like I said earlier, I was already aware of the Neteyam-dies theory (well, no longer a theory I guess) and at that point had accepted it as inevitable, if depressing. I’d been trying to come to terms with it for a while already.
Those who have followed me long enough might know that there’s another movie I like called Wolf Children. It’s a beautiful movie, honestly, one that I appreciate very much, but have only watched a small handful of times because it makes me sob every single time. It’s about a woman who meets a...well, basically a werewolf (except that the transformations are voluntary), they fall in love and have two kids, but right after the birth of the second one the father dies in an accident, leaving the normal-human mother, to raise these two wolf kids on her own. And that’s most of the movie, following the family as the kids grow up until at the end of the movie all three characters go their separate ways. The ending always felt a little bittersweet to me because, even though both children are alive and well living their own lives, the mother is alone again, with only her memories. We saw the whole childhood, that special time as a family unit, and now that period of their lives is over.
That is, essentially, what I was expecting to be done with Neteyam. Watch his whole life, from birth to, well, in his case death. We see the whole thing and then it’s over, no more future with the rest of his family. Which hurts. And yes, that’s...more or less what happened.
While the two scenarios are not perfectly comparable, mentally framing Neteyam’s (then-impending, now-confirmed) death in terms of Wolf Children did actually help me cope with the then-theory.
I have to remind myself that even though his story is over, and that it ended tragically, that what we saw...wasn’t everything. It was snippets. We saw only very few snippets. For long stretches in between those snippets. For roughly 15 years the Sully family lived more or less in peace. Neteyam had a happy childhood. He lived all that, even though we only saw it so very briefly. I have to remind myself of this, repeatedly.
because even knowing that, watching the tragedy...it’s...it’s hard...
i just...
i just...
and then that. that ending I--
I just--
my heart is broken, it is aching, i cannot ;_;
#awow spoilers#avatar#avatar 2#the way of water#neteyam#i'm sorry for rambling so much about this I just. i need to cope#i have many other comments to make about the movie both silly and serious but this...#idk man this is just weighing particularly heavy on me right now; my heart is legitimately still hurting#there was so much good and/or interesting stuff to discuss in this movie and#i really really don't wanna let my heartbreak over neteyam's death negatively color the whole thing for me#especially when I went it very much expecting it#so i just. i just need to Cope#bear with me please#it's getting late though...i'll post other more lighthearted comments and such tomorrow#but i really needed to get this one out of the way first#man. just.........man#ow ;_;
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Paradox Live The Animation Episode 8 Review - Corrosion
Last episode review, I theorized that Hajun was going through phantometal corrosion after seeing what Nayuta was suffering from. I got that right! However, I don’t want to celebrate as this episode was super emotional. I gasped when Hajun fainted and legit shed some tears after everything that transpired in the latter half of the episode.
Okay, first off, Hajun, why are you such a hater? First, you called TCW “past-expiration” and now you called Akan Yatsura “playing house with a bunch of strays”. Funny enough, both teams revolve around being a family despite not being blood related; Hajun is also related to the Yeon Conglomerate, but he’s not related to them by blood and got thrown aside. I can see that he has heavy abandonment issues because of that. Since he was adopted, that means he was either abandoned by his actual birth parents or they died and he was put in an orphanage before adoption. He was abandoned once. The second time he was abandoned was because of his adopted parents not wanting him anymore after his brother was born. I understand why he’d be heavily guarded ever since that incident. Being abandoned twice does take a toll in one’s psyche. Hajun doesn’t want to admit that he found a family of his own with Anne and Allen; this episode was him coming to terms with how important they are to him. It made me happy. HOWEVER, Hajun, if you ever dare be a hater towards cozmez, I will personally transmigrate into your world and break your kneecaps while cursing in Korean.
Seeing Hajun having corrosion and being cured from it made me a bit sad, honestly. Nayuta didn’t know there was a cure. Had he told someone, he could’ve been happier (and Shiki too). Though, there is a possibility that Nayuta is still alive after giving a bit of a teaser last episode. The method of going inside a person’s mind to cure their corrosion really gives off Kingdom Hearts vibes with the dive into people’s hearts stuff. I honestly like it. There’s something very magical about that method—I’m writing a story that has the main character dive into people’s memories to grant their wishes (if you want to read it, it’s available on Tapas, Royal Road, Wattpad and Webnovel—just click on the links on the pinned post on my page and you'll be directed). The only time this cure was used was when Buraikan was active ten years ago. Is that Shura guy that ramen guy wearing a disguise? Wait, is the ramen guy his default appearance or is that a disguise? I don’t know! All I know is that the ramen guy’s only voice cameo from Episode 5 was the same guy who rapped the ending song and they have the same voice actor. I think I have pretty good ears to be able to distinguish voices. Wait, what happened to the other Buraikan guy if that was the case? Is he dead? Was he unable to be cured? Does that mean Hajun is the only successful case so far?
I do wonder how Iori has so much knowledge of phantometal. I know that he’s trying to research Alter Trigger in a way by getting the “kids” to gather information about Ryu, which was what Episode 6 was about on their end. Since he’s yakuza, is he trying to destroy them? But seriously, how much does he know? Does he know about Nayuta’s case? Despite being fine as heck, he’s a man full of mysteries. Every time he shows up, there seems to be more questions than answers. Also, I can’t believe Satsuki and Reo have the gall to start a random food fight during meal time. Who does that?
Since this is a BAE episode, AKYR’s song isn’t heard much. However, thanks to the power of current modern technology AKA Youtube, I listened to Call For Familiez. I liked it a lot! Fabulous was also really good to listen to. I think I like Fabulous the best out of all the BAE songs so far. It just sounds so different from the first two BAE songs I’ve heard. I think both songs are just so different from the usual powerful songs both groups have—they’re currently my favorites from each group now!
Also, I want to discuss Hajun’s Korean at the ending. In Episode 4, he said “Gomawoyo”, which means “Thank you” in Korean, but it’s used in a more polite manner. If you’re not familiar with the Korean language, adding -yo to the end of your sentences makes them polite and formal. Since Hajun used -yo at the end of his sentence, it showed that while he was thankful to Allen and Anne, there was still some distance. In this episode, he says “Gomawo”. Notice that he doesn’t add -yo at the end of his sentence this time. This shows that the wall between Hajun and the other two have finally been broken. If you’re wondering about the difference between “gomawoyo” and “kamsahamnida”, which are both words of gratitude, “Gomawo” is more informal and used casually while “kamsahamnida” is the more polite/formal usage. Since Hajun used the former, it showed that he is comfortable around his friends to speak casually to them, but still added -yo at the end at first. Now that he broken the boundaries between him and his group, he doesn’t need to use -yo when talking to them. The writers really did their research on the language and I’m super impressed.
Next episode’s title has the words shrouded in green, meaning it’s going to focus on all four groups again and maybe have them do weird shenanigans like what they did in Episode 6. I do wonder what will happen next week. I’m excited. Once again, thank you all of the people who commented on my review of the previous episode. You’re all lovely people and I hope you meet people as wonderful as Anne and Allen. What are your thoughts on this episode?
#paradox live#paradox live the animation#BAE#yeon hajun#hajun yeon#allen sugasano#anne faulkner#Akan Yatsura#Iori suiseki#zen gaho#masaki hokusai#Satsuki ito#reo maruyama#review#anime#anime review#ecargmura#arum journal#this review is longer than I expected
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Some wmftd and hades 2 rambles I wanted to share:
Possible Hades 2 Spoilers !
Hypnos with long hair makes me imagine y/n learning how to braid his hair to make it a bit more manageable
Also I feel like seeing hypnos with his long hair would make y/n want to try growing out his beard (achilles sheds a tear when he sees it bc his son now looks like his pa)
Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage reminds me of y/n and hypnos in the pirate au
The amount of angst you could get if hypnos actually does fall into a sleeping coma in the second game 💀 (reminds me a lot of the part closer to the end of wmftd)
I wonder if achilles and patroclus will ever meet odysseus in the second game (how would y/n act if he met him lol)
Imagine y/n and hypnos babysitting baby melinoe when zagreus goes on his runs 🥹 (maybe that would spark their desire for their own children ?)
The wmftd brainrot is getting stronger every day, but I'm glad I stumbled upon this blog <3
AHHHH i love these, legit making me feral rn. Same on the brainrot, my friend. I’m happy you found this blog too <3
Placing my replies and a little short story under the readmore. <3
Y/N would definitely braid Hypnos’ hair for him. Also he wouldn’t be able to cope with how pretty Hypnos is with long hair. Like he totally gets tongue tied just looking at him. He is so fucking pretty.help.
OH AND THE BEARD
I actually hc that Y/N rocked a short beard while working as a fisherman. He was shaved by the time he died because beards are often used as a grapple point during fights so he knew better than to have one.
Until they showed us Skelly I wasn’t sure if Shades could change their form like growing their hair but it looks like they can. (If Skelly counts as a shade, I am not certain where the lines between shades and undead are drawn.)
But anyway, yeah. Funny enough, I was wondering how to show how time passed for Y/N and was considering having him grow a beard anyway lol.
Achilles would love seeing his son with a beard, Pat too. They would probably joke about him actually being a long-long family member that Pat didn’t know about.
However if I think what happens in Hades 2 actually happens, Y/N will grow the beard while apart from Hypnos. (Thanks depression! 👍)
I haven't talked about it yet but I suspect that Y/N and Hypnos will end up losing each other during the chaos and he is either trapped, helping Hermes or otherwise unable to find Hypnos. He has no clue where Hypnos is and just wants to find him.
Looked up the song, and dude that is immediately going on the playlist. Thank you for introducing me to them.
yeah, def. I’m willing to bet the Hades dev.team had their reasons for Hypnos being comatose. What I hope is that Melinoe still likes Hypnos after he wakes up ( bonus point for everyone if she actually thinks he is the funniest person around)
I hope those met up! It would be like running into that one coworker you dislike while in the dairy section at the grocery store and they won’t shut up and leave you alone. ( i love all three of them, those adorable old war criminals <3)
AHHH. Baby Melinoe!
Baby Melinoe is baby fever on crack, i adore her and will happily fight an undead army for her.
I personally think Hypnos is someone who always wanted kids, especially since he is kinda a big kid himself and would be one of those parents who could play all kinds of silly games with their kids.
Kids were kinda never on Y/N’s radar. There was his own trauma, the war then being on the run. Maybe in a lavender marriage, he might have a kid or two but it wasn’t something he seeked out. Seeing how happy it made Hypnos definitely planted the seed for him. I like to think Y/N would actually be a natural parent with kids.
I can’t articulate my level of love for her so here you go, a wholesome short for making past my rambling lol
(The short)
The news of Princess Melinoe’s arrival was a welcome one in the house of Hades. It was as if the whole house had transformed around the little princess, there was a warmth, a sense of love, to the house that wasn’t there before.
You were going over the newly increased list of security measures that Master Hades demanded and Queen Persephone had politely requested. You had implemented countless measures leading up to the birth and more afterward but there was always more work to be done.
“Oh look who I found, Princess!” Hypnos’ voice reached your ears and you looked up to see Hypnos grinning at you, the aforementioned Princess Melinoe in his arms. At your questioning glance, Hypnos explained that he was on babysitting duty.
“Besides, I am way more fun than your older brother, huh?” Hypnos cooed at baby Melinoe, tickling under her chin. The baby girl cooed back in delighted, high pitch sounds that only a newborn could make, little bubbles forming her lips and down her chin.
Normally Hypnos was extremely fussy about his cloak but grabbing an edge of it, he just wiped Melinoe’s drool away without complaint, his smile never fading.
Then, he lifted an expected brow at you. You looked at the baby in Hypnos’ arms, happily blabbering away. You never been around kids, not really. You weren’t sure if the little princess could even see past her small nose.
She looked tiny and precious. And very, very fragile.
Hypnos laughed quietly. “She isn’t scary, dearest. You can tell her ‘hello’.”
”Hello.” You told her. Her eyes widen, staring up at you with wide mismatched irises. As if she was realizing you were right there. She blinked slowly.
”Try giving her your finger.” Hypnos encouraged, and after a moment of hesitation, you obeyed.
Princess Melinoe grabbed at your finger with considerable strength and simply held on, staring at you with a surprisingly serious expression, blabbering away in nonsense.
You made the appropriate noises like you could understand her and repeated, ‘indeed, Princess.’ along with ‘you are definitely much smarter than your brother.’
A smile formed on your face without you noticing.
You didn’t see the soft way Hypnos glanced at you, realizing the quiet hope that was forming in his chest. When it was time for Hypnos to return Princess Melinoe to her mother, you didn’t know that Hypnos was already putting together a conversation to have with you later.
You never knew.
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🐍Oxiana Mello reference post🐍
New ref sheet and design up! 'v'
See her info and backstory under the spoiler
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
General information:
Name: Oxiana Mello
Age: 29 (Post timeskip)
Height: 190cm / 6'9"
Personality: Her easygoing nature and demeanor makes her seem very relaxed and.. well.. 'mellow', often making her a target for people and pirates who might be looking for an easy mark. She's very easy to approach, and emits a friendly aura that makes most feel welcome in her presence. However, they way she treats everyone with the same enthusiasm makes it difficult to know if she's being legit or just putting up a font. She gets her kicks from witty banter and sarcastic remarks.
Devil Fruit: Hebi-Hebi no mi: model Samar Cobra (a highly venomous spitting cobra)
She can shed her skin to counter superficial wounds such as scrapes, scratches, heat and cold. It is also possible for her to layer it to deflect heavier hits, cushioning them with her own skin. Although it's a potent skill, she hates using it because it flakes horribly, like massive dandruff and dead skin.
Toxin secretion through her teeth and gums, under her nails, able to inject through her own specialized fingergun technique named "Shigan: snakebite" where she uses two fingers to emulate a snake bite. Can also fling drops over longer distances with high accuracy, or fling drops with little accuracy like a shotgun.
Her saliva secretes an antivenom, so any toxin applied along with her saliva is harmless, and tastes kinda sweet.
Like a snake, her initial ambush speed is explosive, but she is unable to keep up the same speed over longer durations.
Strengths:
Rokushiki master, specializing in 'finger pistol', 'paper art', and 'iron body'.
Haki: Specialty is observation haki, and paired with her snake senses, she is able to sense certain things and people from afar by flicking her tongue, much like how a snake smells and senses. She's also able to vaguely pick up on people's intentions and feelings if they are within 15 meters. She can also use armament haki, but mostly for offensive means, empowering her 'Snakebite'.
Grip strength. Part of the reason she uses a modified finger pistol with two fingers is to be able to grab on to people better. She's very hard to get off once she grabs a hold of you, she would be excellent at rock climbing.
Traits: She's hella expressive and emotional, but she has a kind of disorder where her tear ducts work overtime over the smallest excess of emotion, which has made her adapt a very "mellow" demeanor. Any emotion that is being felt a little more than normal makes her tears roll, not because she's sad or crying, but because her body just can't handle it and uses tears to process it. Any amount of extra joy, anger, excitement, or sadness triggers it. She's been described as a weirdo or sometimes creepy for "crying" while doing her Cipher Pol work.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Backstory:
Mello and Lucci were two kids from the same batch who were recruited by the World Government to undergo training to become Cipher Pol agents. Mello stood out for her relentless optimism, regularly cracking jokes and sporting a smile that brought a bit of light to the rigorous regime the litter of kids faced. Despite their contrasting personalities — Mello's cheerful and witty disposition clashing with Lucci's serious and calculated demeanor — they were drawn together, forming an unlikely friendship.
The time came when Lucci, among others, was selected to join the more elite CP9, somethng that would intensify his training and isolate him from Mello and the rest. As he departed, Mello sprinted alongside his departing ship as far as the dock allowed, shouting out for him to promise a visit back to her — a promise Lucci made.
Years rolled by, and Mello found her place in CP7, serving with dedication. Basically she joined the intel unit of Cipher Pol, (I just happened to pick CP7 to be the intel unit), focusing on espionage, as well as gathering and handling of intelligence. But Lucci's absence grew heavier with each passing day; no visits, no letters. Her curiosity and missing her old friend led her to quietly probe for Lucci's whereabouts. This curiosity was met with resistance from her superiors due to the secretive nature of CP9, and ultimately they stopped her inquiries with a lie: Lucci had fallen in the line of duty.
Shattered by the belief that Lucci was gone forever, Mello's spirit broke. After over a decade and a half with CP7, the hope of reuniting had fueled her. Now, extinguished. She took leave from her duties to recover, but her lack of income forced her into a poor lifestyle. Hopping from ship to ship, island to island, Mello did whatever odd jobs she could find, all while dealing with sad accommodations, from bug-infested motels to makeshift hideaways in the wild, living like a hobo for 5 or so years.
Circumstances led her to a war-scarred isle in the grand line where the government, stretched thin on manpower, had reluctantly requested a Cipher Pol member to supervise the building of a Marine outpost. It was here, during a confrontation with pirates from her past as an agent, that she crossed paths with the one assigned to the task -- Rob Lucci.
The sight of Lucci, alive and now a member of the even more prestigious CP0, turned her world upside down. Overwhelmed with relief and emotion, Mello couldn't help but burst into tears. I like to imagine that all CP9 agents, especially Lucci, went through harsh indoctrination and memory suppression during his CP9 training, which stripped him of any memories that could hold him back, Lucci initially did not recognize Mello or recall their long-ago promise. However, their unexpected meeting sparked… something that was teetering at the edge of his mind.
Ofc they end up reconnecting, and even after 20ish years they are pleasantly surprised to rediscover their affinity for each other, and that the friendship from their childhood wasn't just a chance thing.
#I MIGHT BE CRINGE BUT I AM FREEEE#one piece oc#oc x canon#one piece fan character#rob lucci x oc#keigorart
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that good girls chapter had me shaking skdnskjssk. NEXT CHAPTER SOON PLS! also i have a huge appreciation for your writing and just wanna mention how much i love stardust like that story changed my entire life i always reread it
YES, CHAPTER IS COMING NEXT WEEK 💪
STOP, writing stardust literally changed my life, i seriously cannot move on from it and i am sure that it is the best thing i have and ever will have written AND to hear that so many of you agree is just fucking heart-warming.
BLOOD, SWEAT, AND TEARS were put into that. it is by far my most thought-out story i have written. it literally took me around six months to finish and TWO google docs because I somehow reached a word limit on my docs by the end???? 300K WORDS 😭(to hear that someone rereads all that is literally so 🤧🥰💕) THANK YOU FOR READING IT
i could literally talk about stardust for days (this is also me promoting my story so like go read it if you haven't) by the time i finished it and literally put the last period i legit shed tears because of how that story was part of me for months and i was done with it but didn't want to be🤧
im afraid most of my readers will miss out on it simply bc it's not gp and yall are lame bc of that 🍅🍅🍅
#jsmandu.inbox#READ STARDUST#stardust is more than fanfiction#it's also the only story of mine i will take so much pride in
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Not sure if anyone has pointed this out yet, but I'm currently reading the Brigadier Gerard stories and one thing I realized - or more like fished out of my eye as it was that impossible to miss - is that irl Arthur was the Napoleon simp.
This bitch would scream, cry, foam at the mouth, vomit, shit himself and faint at the same time if he could meet irl Napoleon in person, that's how much of a simp he is. There would be no "'Léon" or "Napo" - to Arthur he would be "Your Majesty" and "Sire" only. (On that note, there would be no "Jeanie" either. Whom Napoleon respects, he respects tenfold.)
He would kiss the ground Napoleon walks on. Would stare at him with heart eyes whenever they're in the same room. You could not get one coherent sentence out of him because every single neuron in his brain would be occupied with thoughts of admiration for him. Mix in a bit of Cybird!Arthur, and if Napoleon wanted to fuck him, he would be prepped and ready on all fours atop his bed in 10 minutes tops.
He would be ecstatic to show him his stories set in the Napoleonic era, and Napoleon in turn would take a reserved kind of liking to him upon reading the shameless and incessant praise for his person paragraph after paragraph (it would be balm to his inferiority complex). Arthur would treasure every second Napoleon spares him, still, by his own request, he would be in charge of all of his meals and letters just so he could observe the hero, the legend, the emperor that much longer. He would be at his heels 24/7 like a loyal puppy and Napoleon would enable him (for the most part) because devotion without question is his kink a quality he could have used more of in his people during his days on the throne and it makes him feel more secure to have it now, especially in this unfamiliar time, even if from just one person. He would ask Arthur to be his guide, since he's more familiar with the technology, fashion and conventions of the 1890s, and Arthur would legit shed a tear or two, overcome with joy to have received such an honour from the man himself.
(Also he wouldn't shut up about it for months and the other residents would strongly contemplate just dumping his body in some ditch after the first week, which the only reason they refrain from doing in the end is that nobody dares piss Napoleon off. Jeanne would be the only one to try because she hates the British - and let's face it, she could take on Napoleon's Oswald Cobblepot-looking ass any day -, but would promptly be scolded by Comte for attempted manslaughter of precious guests.)
Their dynamic would be interesting, if a bit unhealthy, is what I'm saying. And I need more simp!Arthur.
Bonus: badly edited memes of Arthur at any given moment
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp arthur#ikevamp napoleon#'napoleon is love napoleon is life' - arthur at some point probably#i realized too late that i should have made the memes with irl napoleon#but i'm too lazy to make another version#oh worm
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