#sleepyhead and unrestful

[itsapmseymour]

We sent so many ships out to sea this Valentine’s Week, which was your favorite?

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced/accidental bonding, subjugation

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Once you wake up in the morning, you feel… changed.

Your body feels full—as though you’d indulged too much last night—heavy and sticky and sore all over. There’s a strange taste in your mouth—sweet, somewhat salty, and metallic. Geez, you’re head’s pounding—how much did you drink last night? No, this feels different from a hangover—more full-bodied than that—a withdrawal of some kind or another. You must have done more at the party than drink, and yet, you can’t remember having stayed there all that long. No, you left with someone. That’s right. You went with… that overgrown Omega.

Oh no.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He comes in only wearing a pair of snug boxers—body stacked with brawn, not a single hint of Omega-like softness aside from his tousled bed hair. There’s a big toothy smile on his face—eyes are creased in cheer while carrying an overfull breakfast tray. You know you’re hungry, and yet you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but sick to your stomach by the horrid sight of his flaunted neck, decorated by a gory ring of your bitemark.

No. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck! “Tell me that’s not what I think it is…”

He laughs lightly with an awkward smile, apologetically scratching the back of his neck while balancing the tray in the other hand. “I’m afraid so…”

The world stops spinning, and for a moment, you think it might actually never start up again. Your throat snares, and you think you might throw up. How the fuck could this happen?

He sets the tray down next to you, then himself. The whole bed takes waves upon his weight. You remain still—eyes unrest and mouth hung.

“Hey, I know this might not be what we had planned, but…” he starts.

But you don’t let him finish before declaring, “I’ll take full responsibility.”

There’s nothing else to do, you think. The red string of fate has tied the two of you together. It’s sealed.

“There is no going back now.”

His face expresses shock, but if you’d taken a closer look, he’d probably not be able to hide it—the overwhelming sensation of victory. Oh, bless your Alpha pride. He knew you would say that.

He smiles softly. “I’m in your care then.”

It’s a work in progress after that—slow in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. You never pegged yourself to be the type who got caught up in the unmendable mistakes of a one-night stand, but then here you were—mated with a stranger, moving into his apartment because it’s bigger and closer to work, sharing the same bed and eating the same meals and helping each other through one another’s ruts and heats.

He's still no closer to being your type. In fact, he’s the total opposite—too giant to give you even a semblance worth of superiority over him. A couple of days ago, when he’d been searching for the remote in the couch you were lying on, he’d taken to pick you up instead of just asking you to move. It was completely humiliating. He’s so brazen, and it’s starting to become clear he’s doing it all on purpose!

He doesn’t get fussy when you state your claim of being the one on top—no, but what he does instead is somehow worse, going along with it with snide praise, grinning up at you, his big hands weighing heavy on your haunches as you roll them, calling you his good girl. It seems to humor him how it angers you—chuckling behind your hands as you layer them both atop his mouth, growling at him to “Shut up!”

No, he doesn’t mind letting you take charge. He rather enjoys the view of watching you ride—working so hard to appease him while he rests pretty and admires your body—all soft edges and plush curves. You tire quickly, though—poor thing, why don’t you leave the rest to him?

You had rejected it the first few times he’d offered. Your bruised pride simply wouldn’t have it—you’d rather you both stop than let him finish you off. But a couple more nights and you’d quicker come around than either of you expected—perhaps worn down by his constant nagging or simply fed up with your own failure—you let him assist by bouncing you on his lap.

You wouldn’t admit it to his face, never, but you’d enjoyed it far more than you could have ever thought…

Thankfully, your face in and of its own glory told him all he needed to know. It didn’t take long before he’d taken full advantage of it, nor for you to begin allowing it without being asked. Soon you were letting him fuck you against the wall, making the entire room shake—wall creaking and shelves rattling, pictures falling down. You hold your tongue and hold on tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him—moaning sweetly right by his ear. Fuck, you even bite him again.

As time passed, you came around to indulging more and more of his antics. Letting him fuck you from behind—hard and heavy and deep—thrusting into you while grappling your waist. You even go down on all fours when he does it—digging your claws into the sheets.

Lying belly-up beneath him still makes you feel nervous—and slightly ashamed—almost convinced something’s wrong with you for liking it. And yet you can’t help it. You know any other Omega wouldn’t fuck you like this. They wouldn’t have the stamina, the drive, or the desire. Not like him, who does it all like it’s his nature even when it shouldn’t be.

Guess you’re both freaks.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[heavenlyakin]

Somewhere Between

Aki Hayakawa x GN!Reader

WC: 809

TW: none! It’s fluff with a mild amount of angst bc it’s Aki and it can’t not be angsty by nature. This is in line with cannon tho, just before denji moves in with Aki obvs.

—

The pittering sound of rain brings you back to reality. Glancing over, you see it’s really picked up since you arrived at Aki’s apartment last night. If you listen and focus enough, you can hear the quiet breaths he takes as he sleeps. Slowly turning over to face Aki, you admire his features while he’s relaxed. It’s rare you’re awake before he is, so you savor this time, taking in every second of the delicate features that’ll soon be replaced with his tough exterior. 

Gently, you reach over and move a stray piece of dark hair away from his cheek, tucking it behind his ear knowing it won’t stay put anyway. His forehead creases as he furrows his brows, not quite awake but somewhere between a dream and awareness. You wonder what he dreams about; something he’s never shared with you. Well, amongst many other things, you suppose dreams are not as important so you don’t give much more thought to it. 

His eyelids flutter a few times and you can’t help but keep looking. It’s not like you haven’t caught him staring at you when you’ve woken up. He smiles softly, the sleepy smile that you love so much. You haven’t told him this yet, and you are unsure about how he will take it. Aki has lost so much already, you’re not sure if it’s fair to tell him how you feel for the fear he might lose you; even though he never could. 

“Morning,” he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His body radiates warmth, comforting you in seconds. You place a hand on his chest, your cold fingers instantly warming. 

“Sleepyhead,” you kiss his nose and he grins again. “What were you dreaming about?” 

He shrugs, removing his arm from your waist and rubbing his eyes. “Can’t remember,” he tells you, his voice still rough and deep from sleep. 

He leans forward, kissing you softly. You breathe him in, the taste of last night's cigarette and mint gum still on his lips. You’ve asked him to quit so many times, but he never listens. He promises he’ll try but every time he stopped for a day, the next was just too much to handle without the sweet taste. He always sounded so sad when he made an excuse, you let him get away with it. 

“I dreamt about a cat going to space. Much more interesting than whatever you’re withholding from me,” you tell him, turning to lie on your back and face the ceiling. 

Aki sits up, tossing his legs off the side of the bed. His hair falls around his shoulders, and you notice the tufts that formed at the back of his head. You can’t help but giggle, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his bare waist. 

“Don’t leave the warmth of the bed, I might freeze to death without you.” You feign concern and grip him tighter. 

He laughs softly, barely audible. “Baby,” he coos, “I need to brush my teeth and smoke.” 

His routine, something you’ll never be able to compete with even though you try. You flop back onto his bed, releasing him to his oh so important tasks. You’re aware Aki has feelings for you, or else he wouldn’t ask you to come over so often and usually just to sleep together without fooling around. It’s intimate but there’s been nothing spoken about what your relationship to one another is. 

Perhaps it’s somewhere between lovers and friends. 

Glancing up at the clock on his nightstand you see it’s barely after 8 a.m. You slept just a little over four hours in total, but somehow don’t feel unrested. You don’t work until noon, but you might as well head home, you decide. Aki has his routine and you’d rather not be here when he leaves for work and have the unsettling feeling that it might be the last time you see him. It’s better if you go first and think about coming home to him instead. 

Dressing quietly and quickly you gather your things and toss them in with Aki’s laundry, knowing one of you will get to it and not mind separating it out later. 

“Where are you going?” Aki peeks his head through the sliding glass door to his balcony. 

“Home, I just wanted to do a few chores before going to work. I’m also out of clothes here.” You tell him, slipping your shoes on by the door. 

He rushes towards you, cigerette still between his fingers. He never keeps them lit inside, you’re stunned to see he ran inside with it. “Aki, what are-” 

“Just get all your stuff and come back here. Move in with me.” He says breathlessly, and you know it isn’t from the short run.

Maybe you’re not just someone somewhere between to him.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Restless

Another Zelink Oneshot

Commissioned by @florette-the-witch​ <3

Link is sick. Link is also stubborn. Post BOTW.

——————–

“I’m not sick,” he said again, sitting up before a hand was placed squarely on his chest. It didn’t take much pressure to force him back to the pillows.

Zelda glared down at him and though she didn’t say anything, he could feel her silent reprimands. The back of her hand found his forehead.

“Link,” she whined at him, “You’re burning up!”

He found the hem of her loose shirt and toyed with it. “Only because you’re near me.”

Despite his jesting, her eyes grew frantic. With a lithe hand, she moved his hair back and tested his temperature with her opposite hand. Zelda’s lips formed a pronounced frown and he heard a mantra of mumblings, not unlike when a hypothesis of hers would lead to a conclusion she wasn’t expecting.

Finally, she huffed and disappeared from view. The series of mumbles following the sound of her footsteps as she fled down the steps. Idly, he stared up at the rafters above. Weariness chanted in his bones, but his head was restless as always.

The gutters need to be cleaned, he thought aimlessly. If they aren’t Bolson is going to give me hell again.

And he didn’t want another lecture on the responsibilities of being a homeowner. With a grunt he sat up on his elbows and heard a sharp, “No.”

Zelda reappeared at the top of the stairs and held a glower his way. Again, his head hit the pillows.

“I’m okay enough to do a couple more things.”

“You aren’t,” she plainly said. “You weren’t yesterday, but I foolishly let you. You’ve gotten worse today.”

A wet cloth touched his forehead and, dear gods, he nearly moaned. Instead a loud hum of satisfaction came from his chest and he opened his eyes to find Zelda’s quiet worry. Her fingers grazed the side of his face, then cupping his cheeks. In the light, her hair glistened gold. Its shortened length was growing out now and he curled a lock between his fingers.

“Let me see your smile again,” Link croaked. He winced at his own voice.

Immediately, she pressed her pink lips together to stifle one. “I think not.”

The spite in her voice was far from real and soon she devolved into a wide smile. She glanced at his lips and when she dipped down for a kiss, he covered her mouth.

She stared with admonishment in her eyes.

“If I’m sick,” he grinned, “Then I’d rather be the only one sick.”

The way her tantalizing lips parted made him pray to the gods to get better soon. At least for her sake. That frown was recurring and he found discomfort in the unrest in her eyes.

“Well, hopefully your fever will break by the time I get back,” she sighed, pulling shoes from under the bed. Zelda glanced at his startled expression and followed up with, “I’m going into town. You need something warm.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No,” she commanded, already pushing back on his bicep. “I’m perfectly capable of buying a few items myself.”

And then she looked at him in a softer light and he damn near melted under it. Her hand trailed down his arm and found his fingers, letting them tangle into her own. Without words, she brought the back of his hand to her mouth and left a chaste kiss.

A healthy Link couldn’t say no to those dancing eyes, how was he ever to put up a fight now?

Link didn’t and she left him with the hint of a smile. Soon the door to their home would signal her leave and the weathered man inside would groan at the ceiling. They had never owned a clock, but the one in his mind began ticking.

A three minute walk to Hateno’s center; five if she took her time. It would take ten minutes to shop for ingredients in East Wind; fifteen if she haggled with Pruce. All in all, if she wasn’t back within a half-hour he’d wrought himself from the covers and go to find her. At the thought, he nodded to himself as if that made all the sense in the world and crossed his arms over his chest to cement it.

Tick, tick, tick, tick. Couldn’t the gods allow time to pass a tad faster? Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Clean gutters. Taxes. No, Zelda always paid those. Weekly scout of the perimeter with village garrison; that could wait. Help Zelda weed out the big spider in the garden.

It felt like he was forgetting something vital and the task snuck farther into the recesses of his mind the more he sought it out. Hadn’t most things felt like that these days? The fact hadn’t calmed his body and the itch to brace himself for the consequences of forgetfulness kept him far from sleep. The damp cloth on his head was warming to his skin and his body was blistering hot.

Sluggish movements cast the covers from him and Link cursed his discomfort and his inability to kiss the woman he loved. It made him drag a hand down his face.

Then, it struck Link.

The horses. He hadn’t fed the horses this morning.

Shit. He ambled to sit up, suddenly thinking their light braying outside the window wasn’t all that cute anymore. Link’s attempts to stand faltered as his legs felt weaker than before. It had been several hours since Zelda forced him back to bed. 

Link heaved himself off the mattress and stumbled into the desk chair. He gripped its back and breathed a labored breath to keep his lightheadedness at bay. A chill violently took hold of him and he slowly wrapped the quilt from the bed around his shoulders. Eventually, he gathered the confidence to take on the stairs.

Zelda’s lectures ebbed at his ears with each step but what she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her, right?

He was never a man who could waste a day in bed. For the majority of his life there has always been a goal to work towards. Even when he could barely remember his own name, his spirit was restless. As a child, his goal was to become a knight his father could be proud of. His late adolescence brought upon keeping Hyrule’s princess safe and slaying Calamity Ganon; though as long as that took, he completed them all the same. Now he was an adult and life didn’t bear the burdens as it once did.

After Calamity Ganon, he found that he wanted to make Zelda happy. Her sign of happiness on Hyrule Field had confounded him. With her kingdom in disrepair and a century’s imprisonment, she would still smile for him?

Why she would embrace his filth-ridden form was even more of an anomaly, not to mention when she continued to hug him for weeks to come. And, of course, Link couldn’t help himself after that. Weeks turned to months and months into years. Their hugs changed to shy kisses and shy kisses to much, much more.

The thought occurred to him as the quilt twisted around his feet on the last stair and sent him tripping. Link yelped, scrambling to support himself on the door handle.

The spring breeze made him grip the covers harshly over him. It wasn’t a long walk to the small stable, only around the house, but it seemed like forever. He shuffled slowly on the grass and felt the tell-tale sign of exhaustion making gravity feel harsher than it was.

There wasn’t anything to rest on where the horses were, so Link brushed it away. An itching in his sinuses grew into an enormous sneeze that made the two mares shake their own manes. A glob of snot clung to his nose and Link made a lame attempt to shirk the green blob from his hand.

“Don’t judge me,” Link nasally said to the auburn haired horse.

He removed the quilt and regretted the action as he did it. Chills made him violently shiver. But the horses needed him more than he needed the warmth and the knowledge pushed him to hang it on the stable hooks. The action alone made his arms weary.

Hay bales were on the opposite wall next to the firewood and he heaved one up. Usually the action was nothing, but the lack of appetite the last couple days left his heart racing. Even the horses seemed concerned when the hay dropped over the gate and he stumbled to brace the wall. His world was a boat on rough waters, swimming precariously in his vision.

Link gulped and felt himself flush. He hadn’t felt this queasy since he trekked the Gerudo desert without the proper gear and suffered hyperthermia. 

Dimly, he heard his name from the other side of the house and he responded faintly. Another call for him grew closer while a blurry head of golden hair rounded the corner.

“I-I’m right here.”

Link was leaning against the wall, bracing the support beams to keep himself from slipping to the floor when Zelda reached him.

“Hylia above,” she cursed. An angelic curse, but a curse nonetheless. “Link, what in the goddess’s name are you doing out here?”

A soft gasp. “You’re hot to the touch.”

He knew it was bad when the motivation to respond with a quip didn’t manifest itself. With a firm but gentle grip, she wrapped one of his arms around her and made Link use her as support.

“The horses.” He nearly retched when she moved forward and to remediate it he shut his eyes.

“Is that why you’re out here? I fed them this morning.”

All he could do was nod and beat down the urge to puke on the love of his life. Slowly they hobbled around the bend and Zelda wrangled the door open.

“Come on,” she cood. “Can you make it up the stairs?”

His affirmation was to lean on the guard rails instead and breathe in heavy pants.

Without him seeing it, Zelda pulled his hair from his face into a low ponytail. She always carried multiple ties around her wrists these days. Her arms wrapped around his middle with a feather-like touch, partially supporting him and also just to feel his being.

“You worried me. I expected a sleepyhead, not an empty bed.”

Link wanted to chuckle, but he lacked energy and her tone was devoid of amusement. When he didn’t say anything at all, she coaxed him up the stairs. While he fell on the bed, Zelda shuffled through the closet and produced several blankets.

The sudden coverage around his person made the nausea subside and her hands tucked in the blankets around him to make sure there was no room for cold air to seep through. Link closed his eyes at the sensation of chills subsiding.

Her footsteps retreated before he could breathe an apology, but she wasn’t gone for very long. The smell of simmering chicken broth wafted to his nose.

“How many times have I gotten sick and you’ve taken care of me?” She pinned him down with her eyes.

Thrice, but she wasn’t asking for an answer from him. Zelda took his face in her hands. There was a small line that creased her forehead. 

“So why is it that the one time you get sick it’s the end of the world?” she voiced, sincerity stressing the question.

Link didn’t have a response for that. Guilt borrowed into him. Weakness was something he could never have afforded and now that he could… it made him feel inadequate. 

“Do you not want me to care for you? Because I promise you that I’m trying to look out for you, my love,” she said, voice filled with warmth and a clear sign of the love in her eyes. Link’s heart ached.

“Zelda,” he rasped, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

The crease soothed slightly and her grasp on him fled. “I know. You did worry me, no, you continue to.”

He could hear her wring out the washcloth in a water basin she had pulled upstairs. Then, a sigh.

Link swallowed, thumbing through all the things he could say to remediate the conflict in the sound of her breath. He fell on a simple: “I love you.”

The frantic tone of his voice quirked a smile on her face and when she looked up, he could swear she was a benevolent deity. “I love you too.”

“So much,” he followed up.

Then, she laughed. “Too much!”

“Oh, gods, never enough.”

She smiled down at him as she smoothed the damp fabric on his forehead. Beautiful was a word that flashed in his mind repeatedly. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

“Do me a favor, lover boy.”

“Anything.”

“Take a long nap.” Zelda scrunched up her nose defiantly. “I’ll be downstairs where you won’t be able to escape.”

As she stood to walk away, he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it, basking in the way a slight rosy color tinted her cheeks.

Link fell asleep without even trying. When he woke, it was still daylight and the afternoon cast shadows across the room. His hand was wrapped around another’s and it didn’t take his sleep-muddled mind long to figure out who it was.

She slept with shallow breathing over the side of the bed. Her head rested on the edge of the mattress with her hand clasped around his. A sea of golden locks. On the nightstand was a bowl of soup, still steaming. Link turned to get a better view and realized that feeding the horses hadn’t been what he had forgotten.

Next week he had to trek out to Gerudo Town. To Zelda, he was making the journey to check on the young Gerudo chieftess. In actuality, there was a small package waiting for him in the jeweler's shop.

Link had always thought her ring finger was missing something. 

[obsidiancorner]

When Terror Knocks

ObiYukiBingo ‘19

Ghost Hunters AU

Word Count: ~3900

***Note: Guys, this gets dark. This is your warning: Torture is implied. Not detailed but it’s there and it’s enough. Read responsibly. 

A tale about what happens when three friends go Ghost Hunting in rural Southern Clarines.

Shirayuki groans as she rolls out of the backseat of Suzu's Jeep, landing in an overgrown grassy field. She has been cramped up with the equipment for hours. Her muscles are tense, knotted from the time spent contorted around various bags and boxes and, to make matters worse, she really has to pee. 

"Morning, sleepyhead," Yuzuri chimes in her ear as she works to start unloading gear. 

Looking at the watch on her wrist, Shirayuki groans again. "It's after midnight, crazy," she grumps through the groggy haze the unrestful nap left hanging over her. "How long was I out? No, wait. I don't want to know. Better question: where are we?" She cranes her neck to the right, then to the left taking in the wide expanse of nothingness that surrounds them. Well, not nothing.

Corn. There was lots of corn around them- sprawling cornfields, with stalks already knee-high, as far as the eye could see. Well, wherever we are, she muses to herself, they're sure to have a bountiful harvest. It isn't even the fourth of July yet…

Behind her, Suzu answers, "Southern Clarines, about an hour South of Yurikana."

Shirayuki turns to face him. She wants to ask how she can help since he is grunting under the strain of carrying a particularly heavy-looking box. The question dies on her tongue as she catches sight of a dilapidated three-storey warehouse-looking building, sitting alone in the middle of Certified Nowhere. 

A chain link fence with barbed wire banded around the top falls to shambles on the perimeter of the property. There are gaping holes in the fence, where wire had been cut and peeled back. Some parts of the fence were simply rusted clean through. 

A cold shiver of dread runs down her spine and the hairs on her arms and neck raise. Her heart races and her breathing quickens. She was way in over her head. When they asked if she wanted to come along on a ghost hunt, she thought they'd visit some old graveyard with a tempestuous past or something. She hadn't expected someplace that looked like just standing near it is to tempt death or, at the very least, a potential run-in with Tetanus or asbestos. 

And they are going inside?

She knows she is useless to the unpacking because she knows nothing about any of the obviously expensive equipment or how to properly handle it. She just stands there, staring at the building, oscillating between gaping and closing her mouth with audible clicks. This is not her element. She is sure she looks every bit the fish out of water she feels like. 

Trying to get a hold on the steadily increasing dread taking over like mint on a lawn, she pulls her eyes away from the beginning and continues looking around. She still has to pee. 

Several yards from the fence definitely not keeping people out, stands a towering oak. No cars are coming down this neglected stretch of country road. The trunk is wide enough to obscure her body twice over... 

That's probably as good as she's going to get to something resembling privacy. 

She dances over to Yuzuri and whispers, "pee. Tree. Bye," before bolting for the unfortunate tree. 

From there, even the building was blocked from view. Thank the gods for small miracles. 

When she's done and has herself as right as possible, she turns around the tree, stopping dead in her tracks when she sees a young man, not much older than herself peering out the second storey window. 

She shivers. 

She clears the distance between the tree and where Suzu and Yuzuri stand over the equipment, contemplating what to take in and what to lock back up in the Jeep, faster than she has ever ran before in her life. 

Panting hard, she doubles over and braces herself on her knees in a desperate attempt to get precious oxygen back into her now-deficient bloodstream. Whatever Suzu had been saying, he stopped mid sentence upon her arrival. 

"What's up, Yuki? You look like you've seen a ghost," Yuzuri teases, prodding Shirayuki in ribs sore from exertion.

She manages a weak laugh and mutters, "creepy outdoor noise, I think." She doesn't know why she keeps what she saw to herself. 

It may have been to not sound insane. Maybe she didn't want to get their hopes up? Whatever the reason, she kept the man to herself. He hadn't given her a menacing or dangerous feeling. He probably wasn't even there at all. She is just nervous and probably saw a reflection and panicked like a child.

That's it. 

It was a trick of the moonlight shining bright overhead. 

Her face heats with embarrassment and is thankful that Yuzuri and Suzu have gone back to an impassioned debate over what equipment is sufficient. It means they won't notice the blush undoubtedly riding high on her cheeks. 

When her breathing returns to normal, the other two are packing up the Jeep with whatever cameras, flashlights, and other equipment she could only guess at were reluctantly being left behind. 

"What is this place?" It's a trepid question she doesn't really want the answer to but she can't stamp down the urge to ask. 

"Back in old Clarines, this was the equivalent to what is now a maximum security prison." Suzu adjusts the backpack on his shoulders, squaring up and setting off for the concrete death trap.

Shirayuki shivers. Again. Yuzuri hands her a flashlight, a voice recorder, and a gadget to check for electromagnetic fields. She wraps an arm and Shirayuki's shoulders and they set off in pursuit of Suzu's quickly shrinking figure.

Hoping quaking in fear won't be her trend for their excursion this evening, she swallows hard. How a building alone can feel this intimidating, this menacing, is beyond her. 

What she does know is that she will probably be sleeping with the lights on for a while. 

_____________________

They entered the building where on the side where a small, single story set of rooms cut a much less imposing figure in the still night. A small bathroom was off to the left. A desk and chair sat next to a forest of filing cabinets sitting at odd angles from each other. Suzu chose the convenient desk to set up their "base" and got to work laying out the equipment from his pack. 

The door separating the supposed office area from the much larger cell area was suspiciously absent. Not on the ground, not hanging off hinges that could no longer support it. Missing entirely, with holes ripped out of the plaster where the hinges had once been.

Suzu stepps through first and mutters, "oh my."

Yuzuri scrambls past him, coming to a stop when she got past him. "Oh… dear."

It was an agreement with Suzu that promised a certain level of discomfort. Steeling herself against her urge to march her scaredy-pants butt right back to the Jeep and wait for them there, Shirayuki follows them into the cavernous former prison. 

Oh my, indeed. 

They were all silent as they digested what they could see as they panned around with their flashlights. Along the long wall to their left, three rows of cells still stood. The rest of the room had been gutted of the cell structures, an undertaking that would have been no small accomplishment since, even back in old Clarines, walls were made of solid stone and steel and other metals were strengthened through tempering processes advanced for that time in history. 

In the center of the room, a small shack-like structure of concrete had been erected, standing stark against the cool dark grey masonry floor. The metal door sported a padlock and deadbolt, all three corroded under age and use. There were no windows to peek in and an indeterminable stain leaked out from under where the door hugged the stone slab flooring, where it winds into a drain near the wall not far away. 

The long wall they stood closest to is yellowed with age and has pegs and hooks hanging out of it at curious intervals. Three levels of windows set deep in the stone walls seem to shy away from the light of their flashlights, determined not to give up any of the building’s secrets. A catwalk, suspended from the ceiling, split the wall twenty feet in the air, likely used to keep a simultaneous eye on the second and third levels of cells on the opposing wall.  

They hadn't been in the dismal building longer than five minutes before the battery on Yuzuri's camera needs to be switched out. It had gone from full, to low, to off in what may have been a whole minute. Yuzuri mutters something about ghosts and battery drain but Shirayuki doesn’t catch it with a different sort of preoccupation.  

She feels eyes she can't see following her every move as they systematically explore sections of the ruined building. She can’t place the exact reason for her trepidation but it makes her feel weak kneed. She barely breathes, barely even blinks. It feels like she’s surrounded by something ravenous; it feels like every display of weakness, every ounce of her fear, is laid out for any spirit of yesteryear to dissect and feed upon. 

The most discomforting concept is Yuzuri and Suzu not feeling it. With no concern at all, they move systematically down the long line of the room without needing to look over their shoulder while harboring an expectation that someone will be there. 

Yuzuri, more subdued than usual, quietly asks questions into the mic of her voice recorder. Shirayuki stands nearby, not wanting to interrupt but wanting to stay close. “Come on Shirayuki, give it a try,” Yuzuri prompts, pointing at the recording device tucked into her fist. 

“O-okay.” Shirayuki walks several paces away, keeping between where Suzu is looking at something and Yuzuri is preoccupied talking to anyone they can’t see. “H-hello,” she stammers. “Is anyone here with us?”

No answer. Of course there wasn’t going to be an answer. Before she had fallen asleep in the car, Suzu had talked at length about playbacks and blah, bah, blah. She had tuned him out then but mostly, she just feels silly. She might as well be attempting conversation with a wall or the filing cabinets back in the office.

__________________

After that first attempt, she decides to leave it on as something of a journal of the evening but ignored it otherwise. If nothing else, it can serve as evidence of her reluctant participation this time should they ever ask her to come along again. 

Without her realizing, Shirayuki has broken away from their little group. She has moved to the far end of the room  near wear a small door by the cells sits tucked back into a corner. She looks around, finding Suzu and Yuzuri no longer in sight. “Yuzuri? Suzu,” she calls out. 

They don’t answer and adrenaline surges through her like ice in her veins, both freezing her and urging her to move. But where and why? The compulsion is sudden but so intense she can feel it like a hand at the small of her back.

The door to the office room on the far side of the room and obscured by the small room, a phantom she knows can't possibly be there, swings closed with a loud crack. The echo reverberates it's vague threat for an unnaturally long time in the mostly empty chamber.

A deep baritone voice shouts something in the distance and Shirayuki’s heart stops. That wasn’t Suzu. As, more incomprehensible yelling from the baritone voice echoes through the space, Shirayuki scoops up her flashlight and the moment her hands close around the battery barrel, it flickers before obscuring everything in shadow. 

"Over here, Miss," someone calls to her. 

Given the choice between whoever called her 'Miss' and whoever is barking out what sounds like garbled gibberish, she chooses the 'Miss' man. Fumbling in the pitch dark her eyes can't seem to adjust to, she is drawn closer to a reflection of light glowing dim like cat eyes. 

"Yes, Miss, over here. This way" he coos at her like one would a crying babe. His voice is soothing, calm but pressing her to keep moving toward him. "You don't want to be caught out here right now."

Shirayuki is uneasy, distrustful. But somewhere in her gut, she knows this is the safest option. As she gets closer, a cool hand wraps around her wrist and he pulls her to him. He crowds into her space and turns her around, eyes still shining in what minimal light they can pick up.

She moves back to put some distance between them and he advances on her again. His hold on her wrist isn't tight, she could break it if she wanted to. She considers it briefly but the other man yells again, closer this time, and the chilled fingertips at her wrist pulse tighter for the briefest instant before he pulls back entirely. 

A door quietly clicks shut behind him. "Okay. We will be fine in here," he says, picking up her flashlight and giving it a smack against his other palm. The light flickers into a too-dim for normal existence that feels more like an illusion rather than reality. It bleeds out into the room, just enough to banish all but the most stubborn shadows cast by furniture.

Golden eyes stare down at her under long lashes and short, messy hair and Shirayuki blinks a couple times to dispel any figments of imagination. His eyes, still an unearthly yellow, remain locked on her. His hair is still messy and his clothes, they're old- the type of old that boasts of speakeasies and swing dancing. It's the type of old that went out of style shortly after bootlegging became a defunct profession. 

"We… we'll be fine in here?" She looks around the room and an aching dread seeps deep into her bones. "What about Suzu and Yuzuri?" Spinning a slow turn around the room, she takes stock of her surroundings just in case. Alone in a room with a strange man is not a place to not be formulating some form of plan should things go awry. She'd learned that lesson years ago. 

On the far end of the small rectangular room, a chest with a hinged lid sits in one corner directly opposing a table with various instruments as oxidized as everything else in the building. "There's nothing in here to help you get out, if that's what you're looking for," he says, causing Shirayuki to whip around to face him. "But you're friends are fine. They went into the other room."

His explanation is less than comforting but every line of his body is smoothed into a lazy lean as he props himself up against the wall- even as someone stomps closer to their hiding spot. She must show her disbelief on her face because he slouches further as he adds, "from what I gathered, the lady's machine died and the gentleman wanted to swap some gadget out for another one. This will all be over in a few minutes. Don’t think about it too much."

Indistinct bellowing from right outside the door seems to rattle the very walls and a couple chips of plaster falls from the ceiling with muted plinks. She doesn’t understand how someone on top of their hiding space can neither hear them or be heard properly by them. It’s disorienting. The man across from her simply drops to a sitting position, seemingly unbothered by what is happening outside the room as he crosses his legs and tucks them tightly in front of him. 

Realization crests over her like dawn over an open field. He's making himself smaller, less imposing, and it's for her own benefit. He knows she’s scared and is keeping his distance making it obviously impossible for him to get to her without her having time to get away- not that she has anywhere to go with that man thumping around outside.

"Who are you," she asks. She's still hesitant but she turns from him to take a seat on the chest on the far end of the room. When she turns around, she doesn't miss how his eyes flick to the box she's seated on, a darkness muting the gold and passing by like a whisper, before he looks back up to her.

"You can call me 'Obi,' Miss." His lopsided smirk is charming but the tightness in his voice belies his discomfort.  

It takes a concerted effort to ignore the muffled shouting of the man stalking around outside. But if he couldn't hear her temporary roommate, this Obi character, when he was lingering right outside the door, reason dictates they are safe to speak now. 

"What are you doing here?" At her question, his eyes grow distant and slide down her slight frame before settling on the box she sits on once again. The smirk recedes to a thin-set but natural line. 

"I live here, Miss." It sounds casual but feels loaded. There's something more, something he isn't saying. 

"You live here, in this building," she presses. It's hard to believe anyone would stay in a ramshackle place such as this, regardless of circumstance. 

"In a manner, yes," he shrugs, obviously not wanting to be interrogated on his living arrangements. 

"Okay… so who's th-" her question is cut off by a loud thump on the wall, dropping another piece of plaster from the ceiling. Shirayuki jumps at the sound but watches as the plaster falls. Instead of hitting the ground, it drops between the even lines of a grated drain on the floor. The floor, she realizes, is streaked in some places and pooled in others with the same dark stains that reach out from under the door and toward a similar drain on the other side of the wall. 

Belatedly, she realizes where he had taken her. "O-Obi…?" She hates how her voice shakes but she looks over at the assortment of tools and instruments on the desk, finally recognizing some of them. Thumb screws, clamps, pliers, knives, lay forgotten. 

Obi hums at her as he shrinks further into the wall, eyes moving between her and her perch. Back and forth. Slowly. It’s as if he is trying to not draw attention to his preoccupation with the chest itself or that where they are is someplace the word ‘terrible’ is a too-generous descriptor. 

"Obi, what is this place?" She doesn't really want to hear the answer but she needs to know.

"A former prison, just like your friend said before you all came in." It's a dodge. It's a truth but not the whole truth, she knows. The yelling outside stops and heavy feet retreat into the distance but it barely registers when… Wait.

"How do you know what Suzu said outside," Shirayuki asks, squinting at him. There’s no possible way for him to know that.

He looks down and away from both her and the crate she sits on, settling on the drain in the center of the gently sloping floor."I was watching… and listening."

She can't help the gasp. He’d been there for all of it… but how? There were only the three of them outside. Just the three of them and the-- "Were you the person in the second-storey window?"

His head wrenches back up to her, his eyes piercing and fiery but- but guilty, too. Her heart spasms painfully in her chest and she fists her hands in her shirt as if that will stop the ache. "But that window…"

"Is somewhere in the vicinity of sixteen or seventeen feet off the ground," he finishes for her. "Yes."

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Sixteen or seventeen feet off the ground with a catwalk above it but nothing below until the ground level floor... "Obi, I'm going to ask you again: what is this place?"

He winces.

"Obi."

"Officially: a former prison," he supplies again, looking at the door with a palpable longing. 

"And unofficially?" She's not in a mood to play games. She just needs an answer. A real one. And she needs to go find Suzu and Yuzuri and convince them it's time to go. 

"Unofficially--"

Any explanation he would have given her is cut off by the door swinging open, revealing the fearful expression on her friends' faces. She looks back to Obi or, rather, at the wall he had been sitting in front of. 

“Shirayuki,” Yuzuri screeches, running in. She pulls Shirayuki down from the box with a little too much force and wraps her up in a tight hug. “Oh my gods. We were so worried about you. You just disappeared on us.”

“How did you even get in here,” Suzu asks, swinging the door lightly to and fro as he studies the locking mechanisms on the door. “This was locked up tight when we first walked in.”

Shirayuki has no answer. There’s nothing believable- at all- about what had happened. What could she possibly tell them. She just shrugs with a weary weakness she hasn’t felt since her grandparents passed in a car accident when she was a teenager. 

She must look petrified enough because they don’t press anymore. Yuzuri just tucks her into her side, coaxing Shirayuki’s head onto her shoulder as she pets her hair in long strokes. Suzu is already wearing his backpack as he heads out of the small room. As they leave the building, no one says a word. The silence extends all the way through repacking the car. 

Shirayuki climbs up into the cramped back seat of Suzu’s Jeep and, when she turns to get one last look at the building, she can see Obi looking out at them through the same second storey window he had been in when they had arrived. One hand lifts to wave before disappearing back to his side. She can’t help returning the gesture. 

________________

Two days later, Shirayuki’s phone vibrates as she reads over the most recent failed Google search for that rundown, middle of nowhere hell-site. 

Call me when you get this.

Shirayuki hits the call button on the top right of the message display. It only rings once in her ear before Yuzuri picks up. “Yuki,” she sounds distressed but Yuzuri can have a flair for the dramatic. 

“You wanted me to call, Yuzuri?”

“Yeah. You let your audio run until we left the other night. Your voice is on it but nothing else… who were you talking to?”

Before she can answer, her search results yield an answer. An article from the Yurikana Tribune dating back to 1928- the height of Prohibition in Clarines catches her eye. “I gotta go, Yuzuri. I’ll call you later.” She ends the call before Yuzuri can respond and stares at the big, bold letters of the article title before her.

“Police Raid on Former Prison Reveals Notorious Crime Boss’ Dungeon of Terror”

Under the headline accompanying the rest of the identified victims, is a picture of a young man the age she is now. A young man with unique eyes, obvious even in black and white, and a familiar smirk. The name beside the picture is only a first name: “Obi.”

[skymma]

Emily nudges Sammy a mug of tea when he appears out from his room. Next to the mug is a plate of french toast, and because it's Sammy, a cup of fresh fruit. "I made dinner! Well, breakfast for you, but, enjoy, sleepyhead."

Sammy smiles when he sits down. That’s one thing about Emily: it’s really difficult not to smile around her. She’s kind, thoughtful, chipper without being fake-chipper (like customer service, for instance) and she’s ... so sincere. 

Like the fruit. Because she knows he likes fruit. 

“Thanks, Emily”, he says, and takes a sip of the tea first, and then pops an apple slice into his mouth. 

It’s the right way to wake up after an exhausting night of tears, nightmares, and unrest. It makes the night seem a little further away. The daytime a little brighter.

“How was work today?” 

[diamondbedinguk]

What are the Health Benefits of Down Pillows?

Down pillows have always been a symbol of pure luxury and comfort. Why wouldn’t they be? After all, they are uber-comfy, awesomely fluffy, and are just so light. If you ever have imagined yourself living in the most extravagant way, then your idea of a great bedroom definitely includes down pillows. The fact that they are pricey does nothing to stop the extravagant people from getting as many Hungarian Goose Down Duvet as they can, and turn their bedroom into a down pillow fortress of a kind. In a nutshell, down pillows have absolutely no any competition when it comes to luxury living. But, did you know that down pillows come with a number of health benefits as well? That’s right. Successive researches on people’s sleep habits have uncovered a range of health benefits offered by down pillows. Let’s check some of them. 

Naturally Anti-Allergenic

Down pillows are made of a completely natural material that is designed to be healthy and comfortable to the skin of animals. After all, birds produce the down to protect themselves, and not cause allergic reactions to themselves, right? More importantly, down as a material is anti-allergic. It does not attract bacteria, fungi, or other microbes. This makes it a far healthier option in comparison to any other fill material available in the market.

That being said, you should consider what type of pillow cover you are using on your down pillow. Many of the allergies and infections that happen to people arise out of their pillow covers. Many of these covers, especially those made from cotton, readily absorb moisture and skin oils released by your body. These absorbed fluids create a highly conducive environment for a variety of allergens and infection-causing agents to breed and grow. In turn, they cause complications in people. So, even when you are using down pillows, it is critical that you regularly wash your pillows and their covers for your better health. Silk pillowcases would be a better alternative regardless of your choice of pillows due to their hypoallergenic properties.

Better Quality Sleep and the Associated Benefits

When you go shopping in the market for pillows, you find a variety of fill materials, each of which offer different types of support. Memory foam takes the shape of your body contours, cotton is fluffy in the beginning and gets rigid soon, and wool remains fluffy throughout. But, none of them provide good support for sleepyheads. The reason is that you need different kinds of support for different sleep postures. For instance, when you are sleeping on your stomach, a fluffy pillow can constantly apply force throughout the night, and give you a neck pain in the morning. Similarly, if you are relatively heavy, then your body weight can press the memory foam to the point that it is no more able to provide you any meaningful support. As for cotton, it is avoided by many people for being too hard.

You want the best of all of these worlds, and that’s exactly what the best quality down pillows offer. Hungarian Goose down duvet , or European White Goose down pillows as they are also known, combine the fluffiness of wool with the shape-retaining ability of the foam. Suppose you are sleeping on your back, you can fluff up your pillow to get maximum support to your head throughout the night. Unlike cotton, the goose down never gets rigid or lumpy. So, you get awesome, cushioning support throughout the night. Finally, if you are a stomach sleeper, then all you need to do is coax the down in the pillow to a less fluffy form in the region of the pillow where you will be placing your weight. So, you get uninterrupted sleep throughout the night, and wake up every morning without any discomfort.

Better Temperature Control

You might have noticed during the winters that a normal pillow has two zones – one which is currently occupied by your head and the rest of the pillow. The zone where your head rests is warmer because you have been laying there for the whole night. Now, if you decide to twist or turn on the bed, your face or head now comes in contact with the other zone of the pillow, which is ice-cold or worse, freezing. Invariably you are jolted out of your sleep. This cycle repeats throughout the night, so much so that you wake up in the morning feeling unrested and tired. This happens because of the poor insulation properties of your pillow’s fill material.

Goose down pillows have superb insulation properties. They neither get unusually warm nor do they get unusually cold. They are a naturally designed insulating material and protect birds from extreme weather conditions. When they are used as fill materials in the pillows, they do not absorb your body heat and get extremely warm making you uncomfortable. At the same time, they do not get extremely cold because of the cold weather either. So, when you change your sleep posture during the night, you are not jolted back out of your sleep by the extra-cold pillow. The pillow remains very near to the ambient temperature, even when you are not sleeping on it. Naturally, your sleep cycles are deep and satisfying. You feel rested, and energetic enough to deal with your daily routine.

Final Thoughts

Goose down pillows are generally considered to be an expensive product that only the rich can afford. But, that is not true. From time to time, many retailers offer huge discounts on goose down pillows as well. If you want to get some Hungarian goose down pillows or duvets at heavily discounted prices, then you can find them here at Diamond Bedding. You will get superb prices on great quality products. Now, you have no reason to putt off the plans to redo your bedroom. You can create a luxurious and a healthy bedroom that you have always dreamed about, right now.