#she said she thought that my friend's soul was older than mine

[violettelueur]

— 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ∞

SUMMARY. congratulations, you have reached friendship level four with a certain man. what to know what he says about you to the traveller?

CHARACTERS. alhaitham, kamisato ayato, tartaglia (childe), diluc ragnvider, kaeya alberich

PRONOUNS. she/her

TW. mentions of breakdown (in alhaitham's part)

AUTHOR NOTE. been a while huh? but i can't help but feel like my writing magic has completely gone but maybe i need a change of topic to bring it back, but i will give you this free coffee before i will probably announce something about the blog soon...

༉‧₊˚. ALHAITHAM

ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE

Now, what would you like to know about the manager of Puspa Café? Y/N was once a talented student and researcher at the Akademiya before she walked off. She was notorious for burning all her research before the Grand Sage had the chance to obtain them but even after that, all the students within the Akademiya have nothing but praises about her, always coming into the cafe for a chance to have a tutor session with the famous ex-researcher…some might even say her wisdom rivals against most beings but she would tell you to not disrespect.

ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE

Don’t you think you are asking too much about her? Yes, Y/N is someone I hold dear but other than that, I rather not say anything more than that…it’s a private matter between me and her.

[Tighnari - About Alhaitham’s Lover

He’s like a hawk around her like we get it, Y/N is your lover. However, I understand why he is protective of her, after her infamous breakdown back at the Akademiya, she has never been the same. Never smiled or laugh cheerfully like she did back when she was a student, but ever since her relations with Alhaitham, she seems to slowly get back to her old self…don’t tell anyone I told you this but every time he sees her, he suddenly shines like a Nilotpala Lotus.]

༉‧₊˚. KAMISATO AYATO

ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE

Lady Y/N is no stanger to the Kamisato Clan, matter of fact, she also friends with Ayaka but due to her being one of the adopted daughters of the Kujou Clan, she is extremely busy…yet, she doesn’t seem close to her parental figures at all. As much as Kujou Sara has gratitude to old man Kujou, Y/N seems to despise him more than ever…maybe me and her have more in common than I originally thought.

ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE

Me and Lady Y/N have been engaged for a while, hehe. It was kept a secret between the both of us before Y/N found the right time to break away from the Kujou Clan without any issues. The old man couldn’t believe what he was hearing once I came in and took her back to the Kamisato estate, what a sight it was. I am more than delighted to have her by my side for a lifetime.

[Kamisato Ayaka - About Kamisato Ayato’s Lover

I’ve known my brother had an eye for Y/N for quite some time, it’s actually quite funny to see him subtly stumble on his words when he doesn’t know it. When I heard of their engagement, I was so delighted to hear that she was going to be my sister, now I have another person to make sure my brother takes care of himself.]

༉‧₊˚. TARTAGLIA

ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE

What would you like to know about Y/N, comrade? I could give you pages upon pages about her and it still wouldn’t be enough. Y/N is a childhood friend of mine that I hold dear, she’s very close with my siblings as they see her as an older sister. Ah…I still remember the days when she would smack my head whenever I did something she said was ‘stupid’...kind of miss that feeling.

ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE

It was actually Sonia who made me realise that I was in love with Y/N. Actually, I think I already knew deep down but was worried due to my involvement with the Fatui, but she’s a kind-heared soul that accepts me in every way! Why is my forehead red? Oh, comrade, make sure not to get on her bad side…she’s quite strong.

[Zhongli - About Tartaglia’s Lover

Sometimes I wonder how that rascal was able to capture the heart of Miss Y/N, but I admire his enthusiasm when she comes up in conversation. Knowing him, he would show off Y/N in any chance he got and I’m surprised he didn’t drag her to Liyue to do so.]

༉‧₊˚. DILUC RAGNVIDER

ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE

Y/N? She sometimes volunteers at the tavern when she has the free time but she mostly works with Lisa as a librarian. She’s quite reliable if she ever wants to join the Knights of Favonius but she said she rather not get into much physical work…but I feel like she knows too much about things - actually, let me apologise, I shouldn’t have said that about her.

ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE

Y/N? She’s doing perfectly fine…What’s new? Me and her have gotten closer over the past time and decided to commit to a romantic relationship, it’s nervewracking but at the same time, it’s nice not having to walk alone after a long time…It’s quite peaceful.

[Kaeya Alberich - About Dilic Ragnvider’s Lover

Sometimes I wonder how Y/N has fun with Diluc. Like, what are the dates like? How do the conversations flow between them? How does she even giggle within his presence when he is as dead as a frying pan? But…It’s nice to see how much Diluc is opening up again.]

༉‧₊˚. KAEYA ALBERICH

ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE

Oh? Don’t tell me you have eyes for Y/N too. Hahaha, well sorry, she caught my eye first…maybe next time after my…..fiftieth rejection?!

ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE

Hahaha, of course I won at the end. I managed to steal her heart and now she has become my lover. Being with her is like taking a sip of the most expensive sparkling wine. Divine.

[Diluc Ragnvider - About Kaeya Alberich’s Lover

From what I heard he had been bothering her for some time and often comes to rant to me about them. But after she accepted that one date, her opinion has somewhat changed. You see, she still gets annoyed but it’s more of a worried annoyance. I just hope he doesn’t stress her out too much.]

© violettelueur 2022 - all rights are reserved to violettelueur. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarise, translate or screenshot my work : this will also include other social media/writing platforms like AO3, Wattpad, TikTok and many more.

#・❥・violettelueur #violettelueur ☕️ #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader

[peachsayshi]

Hi Peach! I’m pretty new around here but I’m here to get in on your WIP tag. I wanna take a sneak peek at two different things but to save the effort for you to not do that I would really wanna see what the next Older Brothers Best Friend Geto x Reader pt. 4 🫣

“whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same pt. 4”

⊱ ─── [ ❦ ] ─── ⊰

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ older brother’s best friend geto x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni)  ↬･tags: (check my masterlist for previous parts) tension; alcohol consumption; reader is gojo’s sister; reader has a big fat crush on geto; size difference; kind of angsty but that's because I'm keeping this as an on going drabble as ideas hit me; this ends a bit abruptly but there will be more parts once I conjure up some other ideas( age gap; reader is 22 and geto is 27

⥽ notes: hello! thank you so much for reaching out, and I'll be happy to add you to the tag list! I was originally going to share just a snippet, but in honor of suguru's birthday I decided to go back and clean up the next part to share with you! I know I said I was taking a break from geto fics but something sparked when I reread this XD I hope you enjoy this update hehe

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You're hyper aware of the confined space, of the sound of the car slowly purring when Suguru hits the acceleration, of the intoxicating aroma wafting off of his body, and of the gnawing, aching silence that's hanging heavy in the air.

The two of you haven't said a single word to each other once you dropped off your friends. Suguru tried to eliminate the awkwardness by turning on the radio, but the sound of the low bass was only matching the erratic pace of your heart.

You squeeze your hands into two small fists on your lap, keeping yours eyes on the road as you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth. Your cheeks sting with embarrassment, the heat scorching the apple of your cheeks. You bounce your leg up and down, trying to steady your breath as you muddle through your jumbled up thoughts. A shiver ripples along your exposed spine when you recall the bubbly tone of your friends voice, cringing to yourself as you hear her sing "isn't that also the name of the guy you have a crush on?"

You would do anything to hurl yourself out of the car at this very second.

You aren't even sure if you should apologize profusely for her behavior, or to try and offer Suguru some semblance of an explanation behind her statement.

A hand finds your thigh, a gentle touch bringing your awareness to the present. You gaze down and stretch out your tense fists, fingers spreading where the tips barely touch Suguru's palm.

You freeze.

He lightly traces his thumb back and forth, the tender gesture forcing your will to look up at him.

His sharp eyes are still on the road, and he relaxes into his seat while using his other hand to steer the wheel. "Relax, sweetheart," he coos warmly, a hint of a grin ticking at the corner of his mouth, "I'm not going to bite."

There's a tickle in your throat when you speak, your voice leaving your body in timid horror. He makes it so hard for you to conceal yourself - like you're a an open wound bleeding freely before his eyes.

"I'm mortified," you admit quietly, shameful tears forming as the champagne bubbles in your veins.

Suguru's hand doesn't leave you, but hearing your reply cracks the gentle grin on his face.

"Why are you mortified?" he replies steadily, his brow quirking with intrigue but there's a playfulness in his tone that makes you wary, like he's trying to pry the answer out of you himself.

"Um, because of what she said-" you exhale, as you turn away once Suguru tries to catch your stare. You return to look at the tips of your fingers so close to his palm, the slither of distance sending tingles up your forearms.

"Don't sweat it. Besides, nobody is worse than Satoru, right? He's particularly embarrassing when he drinks," Suguru consoles.

You swallow nervously at the mention of your brother, wishing that Suguru didn't bring him up at this very moment. You mindlessly extend your index finger out, the pad slightly ghosting Suguru's knuckle, and your heart flutters when he flexes at the featherlight contact.

The car halts abruptly, and your heart stops.

You didn't even notice that you made it back home.

The street lights around you glow like a thousand stars, a dewy mist hindering their radiant halos. Suguru lifts his hand away from your thigh to shift the gear into park, and you feel an unwanted chill from the vacancy.

"Yeah," you anxiously snigger, trying your best to play off the moment with ease but there's something in your heart that's stopping your performance.

You're defenseless against the influence of the alcohol in your system, the mask you've so carefully been wearing cracking to lay bare the truth beneath.

You breathe out as you undo your seat belt.

"It's just..." you carefully add on, your courage bravely egging you on to just tell Suguru how you really feel.

There's no point in lying, you reiterate. Come clean.

When you turn to face him, you find yourself faltering once again. He looks bigger than he is with you both trapped inside the vehicle. The expanse of his broad shoulders stretching across miles. His dreamy eyes pierce through your own irises, plunging themselves right into the depths of your soul. You're suddenly shrinking under the heat of his gaze, curling into yourself like a small creature hiding in it’s shell.

Suguru tilts his head, always considering you thoughtfully.

"Just?"

You angle your body towards him, wishing you could just pour out your feelings in an effortlessly cool manner. You think about how Utahime, Shoko and Mei Mei act. Each one of them moving and flowing with self assurance that you can only admire.

Right now all you have is the softest parts of you, your delicacy at the forefront. All the drinks you've consumed have eroded away the shield of your concern, and you feel everything spin once again while Suguru remains firmly in his own place.

Strong. Poised. A beacon that your heart keeps gravitating towards again and again. It pounds in your chest - thump, thump, thump - and the longer you linger in his space, the less you find yourself willing to resist your own desire.

"Remember when we um...when we kissed?" you feebly inquire, a slight shiver making your shoulders tremble.

Suguru's eyes dip to your lips, the memory an anchor of temptation that constantly weighs him down when he's around you.

"You were...guiding me, a-and you said something along the lines of how some guys like it when the their partner can be...assertive..." your body moves faster than your mind can catch up with itself. You inch closer, leaning your torso forward as you tilt up your chin to place your face directly in front of his. "There's...there's something I need to tell you..."

Suguru's expression transitions from curiosity to caution. He visibly stiffens when you close the gap, your innocent lips brushing against the corner of his mouth.

"Sweetheart," he mumbles warily, but releases a petite sigh when you press firmly down.

A peck so small for a gesture far, far too big.

"Would it be so bad if I said it?" you wonder, when you notice him visibly stiffen. "Would it be so bad if we just-"

Your mouth goes dry at the thought, your stomach twitching with uncertainty. Your hands find his shoulders, and you trace the outline of his lips with your own, lingering for just a minute as you hold his gaze.

You faintly lick your lips before moving in for a real kiss.

Just like he taught you.

You feel his palm against your waist, a wave of goosebumps bumping all over your bare skin. Suguru parts his lips to grant you entrance, and you hungrily slip your tongue in for a taste. You ribbon your arms around his neck, whimpering gently when he digs his fingers into your flesh. He eagerly returns the kiss, in the same way he did before when the both of you were lying horizontally on his couch. Your lips crush together, your tongues locking into ties and twists.

He drags his electric touch upward, slipping underneath the flimsy fabric of your top. You gasp into the kiss as his fingers tease the curve of your breast, grazing the underside and making you sink your own digits into the forest of his shadowy mane.

But just when you've almost lost yourself into the haze of your addiction, Suguru suddenly pulls away.

Your name spills out of his lips in frustration.

You widen your eyes slightly.

For as long as you've known the man he's always ever addressed you with one of his many cutesy pet names.

His "sweetheart", his "doll", his "princess".

Every one of them left his lips with indifference but they always held so much affection while maintaining a safe distance of attachment.

But hearing your name, which always leaves his lips like an affliction, which he only calls out in moments few and far in between, seizes your heart pitifully.

"We shouldn't," Suguru points out, his voice deeper than the color of his midnight hair. "We can't."

You thought about the girl he was kissing on the night of his party. The way his body tangled in between the fabric of her purple dress.

"Why not?" you press, anticipating your long awaited answer.

You wanted to hear him say it himself - to admit that there was somebody else. Maybe the rejection will help you finally get over this long winded crush. Maybe the heartbreak is just what you needed to set yourself free.

Suguru's hand was still resting precariously underneath your top, but neither of you were perturbed by the intimacy of your bodies loosely intertwined.

"Because," he breathes out bitterly, “I told Satoru that I wouldn't."

Your jaw goes slack, your mouth dropping in obvious surprise when you part your lips.

"You...what?"

There's a twitch in his jaw. He dotingly presses his forehead against yours, allowing his eyes to flutter close. Leaning into the touch of the one thing he's forbidden to have.

He slithers his hand away, and your body twinges in agony, like it's begging him not to. Tears prick your eyes, but you aren't sure if it's because you can feel your heart crumple or if you're simply overwhelmed.

"I shouldn't have-" Suguru murmurs, "I shouldn't have let things go so far."

"But-" you sniffle, blinking back your tears and your reaction makes him instantly pliable, like you can mold him easily between your fingers

"Satoru is too familiar with every part of me. Too familiar with my history. The good, and the bad." Suguru explains, "And he's fiercely protective of you."

The truth sinks in, the awareness of yet another obstacle in your way.

You slump in your seat, feeling foolish for not considering the extent of how deep their friendship lies. "Oh."

Your hands fall away from around his neck, and you fidget as you shift to look forward. Your chest hiccups as you try to resist the full shattering of your docile composure.

Suguru's eyes don't leave you.

"I should...um,..." you announce with a furrow of your brow, shedding all aspects of your embarrassment and grief in the hopes to leave them behind in the front seat of his car. "I should go..."

You gather your things, ignoring Suguru when he calls out your name a second time. You slam the door behind you, your heart effectively dwindling into nothing but ashes at your feet.

One tear falls, and then another. You initially perceived that the strike of rejection would bring you a sense of catharsis, a final out of the clutches of these sinking emotions… but you didn't expect the sting to hurt this dreadfully.

You carry your feet with as much strength as you can muster to your front door, fumbling with the keys as you struggle with blurry eyes. You sniffle quietly to yourself again when you insert it into its lock, taking a minute to compose yourself before stepping inside.

You freeze taking a step over the threshold when a brush of warmth traces the outline of your waist.

There’s a shadow that drowns out the light behind you, whispering for your return.

You spin on your heel to find Suguru behind you, his lamenting eyes apologetic.

You quickly wipe any rogue tears away, clearing your throat as he takes another step forward.

“Please,” you beg, “let’s just forget about it…”

Suguru nods his head - not because he wants to, but because he has to.

He doesn’t ask for permission when his hands grip your waist, nor do you deny him the access.

“Please, don’t cry,” he soothes in return, his voice angelic and lovely. “Seeing you upset kills me”

You know it’s the truth.

Suguru has always been blunt about how soft he is towards you - even going as far as putting Satoru in his place when your brother tries to overstep.

“I’m fine, just tipsy…” you lie.

Suguru doesn’t point out your fib - taking it at face value even though he doesn’t want to. You nuzzle into his arms when he extends his embrace, enveloping yourself into his protective hug.

One his hands seeks your jaw, and he cradles it with care, ensuring to handle your fragility with a delicate caress. He tilts your face up towards his helpless eyes, hoping you’ll eventually make peace with this like he did. His thumb traces your bottom lip, he tugs at the muscle and watches it gently bounce back. Resisting the urge to kiss away whatever pain he’s caused.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t want this, because I do,” he confesses, maintaining a balance between the scale of your relationship lest you feel weighed down by him. “You make me feel things that I shouldn’t.”

He seals the truth with an honest peck and a spark ignites inside you but you hastily put out the flame.

Yet, his admittance eases some of your woes and you count the minutes passing as you two linger into the kiss far longer than intended.

tags: @brownskinnedgirll @chibigetoo

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x ofc #geto x female reader #geto angst #getou Suguru x reader #Getou Suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction

[sounds-void-fishy]

ik i said i was gonna sleep but then fanfic and my cat nemesis screaming. anyways thinking about how ever since i was a teen ive not wanted to have kids but wanted to foster teens cause id be too scared to fuck a kid up but my set of skills has always been on track to being that of someone good at fostering teens.

and like. idk being maggot granddyke has rlly scratched that itch? especially with the idea of maggot summer camp? i am so so so full of care. being able to teach and help and support. this is all stuff i always wanted to do. this is what i was trying to do school to. and im so grateful that i get to.

i think a lot about this elderly dyke when i worked at an old folks home who toasted me when i told her how honoured i was.

i think about the kids at my high school who tomorrow afternoon are having a st patricks day party with my mom because she is one of the adult supervision and how i started that pride club nine years ago and how having a legacy at 24 is beautiful and terrifying

i think about my roommates when i moved into my current place who were like seven and ten years older than me and declared themselves my parents, at a time when i was freshly out of inpatient and floating at best

i think about the actor at sleep no more, and me crying from the beauty of the connection of queerness

i think about a friend of mine who was a youth leader at my congregation when i was in high school who i thought was nonbinary when i first met them. they didnt realise until quite a bit later. they are one of my dearest friends now

i think about the only time i went to summer camp, a week of leadership camp. it was the first place nobody knew my birth name. where i used just they/them pronouns. it was the first place i learned of the beauty of physical platonic intimacy, where we would all cuddle, or be close while playing cards or reading my immortal

i think of all of us holding hands across the years and the time and the space. in my heart and my mind there is a hangmans tree, from peter pan. the inside is all hollow and infinitely large and there is space for all those i love.

in my soul we are at summer camp and i am yearning so deeply for that to be real in whatever way i can make it

#fuck theres an angels quote #the sould of these departed joined hands clasped ankles and formed a web a great net of sould #and the souls were three atom oxygen molecules of the stuff of ozone #and the outer rim absorbed them and was repaired #nothings lost forever #in this world theres a kid of painful progress #jehangel tag #maggot taggot

[starsaroundmyscarsblog]

Happier x Happier

Summary: The Aftermath of 'Right Where You Left Me'

Focus: Moon Knight x reader. Y/N's POV is set 6 months before Marc's.

Warnings: nothing... except soul-destroying angst

Y/N's POV:

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You've moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you

It had been a few years since you and Marc had broken up, which was a long time to be hung up over an ex, but hey, he was Marc. You were planning to get married to him. You saw a whole future with him.

Layla, his new girlfriend, wasn't had to track down on social media. She didn't post often, but her posts were so Instagram aesthetic you wanted to scream. Your Instagram was nothing like hers, stupid pics funny faces and filters. Layla's Instagram was hands intertwined, books, coffee, laying on Marc's chest. How was her Instagram? Yours was so... messy and unorganised, your posts weren't even in the right reels. And Narc seemed so tender with her, more so than he was with you.

And I thought my heart was detached

From all the sunlight of our past

But she's so sweet, she's so pretty

Does she mean you forgot about me?

Gosh, you wanted to hate her. And you did. How could you not? She was perfect, beautiful, with lovely hair, kind and funny and knowledgeable? How could Marc not fall in love with her? How could anyone not fall in love with her?

Then you saw it. They're wedding pictures. So soon after, you'd broken up, and they seemed so in love. Marc was holding her, and it was like you could feel his rough but gentle hands on your waist. Those photos made you wanna hurl. You slammed your phone on the table. Had he forgotten about you already? You guys had been together for years before he talked about marriage. Seemed like Layla was his ride or die.

You needed to get out of London, you needed to get out of this flat, it was suffocating you.

Marc's POV:

Walking down 29th and Park

I saw you in another's arms

Only a month we've been apart

You look happier

Marc was on a mission in New York. Appointed. Word of a few...powerful weapons on the street. He was parked outside the road of 29th and Park, when he saw you. He sat right up, blinking, making it sure it wasn't real. But it was. You seemed older but in a good way, and you had changed your hair. It was longer now, and ombre. You looked really good. Happier.

He frowned, spotting someone next to you. The man was tall, in dark clothing and a leather jacket, with short hair, and a metal arm, one which he wrapped you, then pulled you in tight. You smiled, laughing and wrapped yours round his waist.

For some reason, Marc got up and followed you. He didn't know why. He was neglecting the mission. You and him were over a long time ago. He was married now. He glances at his wedding ring. Things with Layla were better, but still, it was like his heart was controlling him and not his head.

Saw you walk inside a bar

He said somethin' to make you laugh

I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours

Yeah, you look happier, you do

They sat down inside a bar in a diner. It was quaint and friendly. Bucky's arm was still around you, and without knowing, Marc's fist clenched along with his jaw. When Bucky whispered something in your ear and you laughed, he noticed that your smile than when he made you laugh.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you

But ain't nobody love you like I do

Promise that I will not take it personal, baby

If you're movin' on with someone new

Marc knew that he hurt you in a way that no one should be hurt. You deserved better, and that's why you had to leave, but a part of him still clung to you... still loved your more than anything, the part of him that still wanted you back, that wouldn't let Steven and Jake touch the memories of you.

Y/N's POV:

Oh, I hope you're happy

But not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You hoped Marc was happy as a married man. But you knew you didn't want the marriage to last. You wanted it to end horribly, so he would realise what a mistake he made and come back to you. You knew it was wrong of you to hold such resentment such bitterness, but you didn't care. You knew even though you were going to a new country, a new city, New York, escaping your past London Life, you knew you wouldn't be able to let him go.

Marc's POV:

Cause baby you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

And until then I'll smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you

Marc watched you both through the window. The way Bucky touched you, the way Bucky held you. He wanted that, that refuge from the trauma of his past, his friend had told him after you, he would feel happier again. But now he knew that a was lie, and he smiled through the lie, as he watched you with Bucky, knowing he was happier with you.

Y/N's POV:

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

It was all you could think about on the plane. What did Marc call her? Beautiful, babe, honey. Did he mean it when he promised her eternal love? He hadn't before. But you remembered when he said it to you. You thought that nothing could separate you then. That if you were lost, he'd search the whole world to find you.

And now I'm pickin' her apart

Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she's beautiful, she looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies

You couldn't help it. You decomposed Layla. Focused on her negativity. She wasn't good for Marc. She seemed selfish and controlling, and she didn't know who he rully was, like you. You were saying these like it would make Marc miss you. Come back to you.

Marc's POV:

Sat in the corner of the room

Everything's reminding me of you

Nursing an empty bottle

And telling myself you're happier, aren't you?

(Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

Marc went back to his hotel room, and even though he hadn't drank in a long time (he promised Layla he wouldn't) he sat there, pouring the bottle down his throat, thinking about you. Flashes of a past life. Memories of a stolen place.

He remembered your smile, which used to make him go weak in the knees, and that laugh. Divine. He thought about his relationship with Layla, wondering if it had been worth it. His conscious clawed at him, even though he knew it wasn't. His relationship had gotten stronger a little bit, but it wasn't the same spark when they first met. It was more like embers that were dying.

Oh, ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

But ain't nobody need you like I do (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

I know that there's others that deserve you (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

But my darlin', I am still in love with you

He knew that you were finally happy, and he didn't wanna fuck that up. But he wanted you so badly, he wanted the before. He would make it work, fix it so him leaving never happened. So you could fall in love with him again.

Y/N's POV

I hope you're happy

But not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great but don't find no one better

You wanted Marc and Layla to be happy. Part of you the least. But not the same way you and him were happy. You knew they were probably going to be more happy. Kids, house with a white picket fence, perfect American dream.

Marc's POV:

But I guess you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

I could try to smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you

He went and found you again. Saw you and Bucky together through a window in your apartment, watching a movie curled up together. Jealously tugged on his heart. He wanted you, you and touch back.

Y/N'S POV:

I hope you're happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh

How we're you supposed to start a new life here when he obviously controlled yours? How was you supposed to go on, mend he pieces of a broken life? Find yourself again when all you could think about was wanting Marc to think about you when he touched Layla? How you were scheming ways to get Marc back in your head, like starrting up a relationship with him on the side,

And then suddenly, you were disgusted at yourself. That you would go that far. Bit you weren't surprised

Marc's POV:

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

All he could do was watch, even as you kissed, and he swore he felt the ghost of your lips while you kissed Bucky, full of passion, full of love.

Y/N's POV:

I hope you're happy

Just not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, can't let you go

So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You loved Marc. You always would. It was your curse and your blessing. But New York was fresh starts. Healing. You knew that you'd probably never let him go or want him to be happier, but maybe you could.

Marc's POV:

Cause baby, you look happier, you do

I knew one day you'd fall for someone new

But if he breaks your heart like lovers do

Just know that I'll be waitin' here for you

Marc knew that'd you fall in love eventually, but he didn't know why it hurt him so bad when he left you. It was hurting him so bad that you had slipped through his fingers without him realising what exactly he was letting go. Who he was letting go of. His soul mate.

He smiled softly through the pain, watching you and Bucky through the window. Even though there were no clouds around, he felt a raindrop slip onto his cheek and roll down his face.

He'd always be there for you. He willed for you to know that. No matter what, he happened. He'd be here. Waiting.

#jake lockley #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon boys #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #marvel #moon knight fic #Spotify

[brokenjere]

bad in the bones (c.f) (part 8)

a/n: hey guys! hope you enjoy this next part! I wanna let everyone know that I really only planned this series to be around 10 chapters, so I can’t say how many more parts are left but with that being said, I have some other things up my sleeve to keep everyone busy until season two comes out 🫣🫣🫣 lmk if you wanna be added to the tag list!

A lot of dads showed up - John, the man who had been like a father to me for most of my life up until last year when his marriage to Laurel ended more cordigally than I would have anticipated. Laurel still invited him up for the Fourth despite the fact his new girlfriend was on his arm and she couldn’t have been much older than me. She smiles and pretends it’s not crushing her soul, but I think maybe it was. At least just a little bit. 

Adam showed up, too. After Susannah told everyone he wasn’t coming, Conrad seemed to be in high spirits. He was still canoolding with Nicole in the pool and helped me, Belly, and Jeremiah make pomegranate margaritas in their dad’s special blender but his smile was brighter than I had seen it all morning. When he still thought his dad wasn’t coming. Adam still strolled in, though like everyone was happy to see him. Jeremiah was the only one who smiled. 

The only dad that didn’t show up was mine. Not that he was invited but I couldn’t help but think about where he was. Where my mom was. Who she was spending the holiday with. I doubt she had a homemade cake and margaritas and there probably weren’t red, white, and blue decorations surrounding her. There might be a pool. Maybe she was laying out by it and being served by someone in a fancy hotel that her new boyfriend was paying for. I didn’t really know. That’s where she was last year, anyway. 

I liked her being gone, then. All my friends and I got too drunk in the backyard because there were no adults to stop us. Josh waded in the pool near the edge where I sat. His hands gripped my calves and he kissed my thighs and he mumbled how much he loved me in between kisses. Everyone was envious of us. It was obvious in the way they watched us. Josh never cared much for PDA except when he was drinking. 

Last year, after spending so much time in the pool that he became a prune, he leaned over my tanning body and dripped water all over me while kissing my cheeks. He begged me to go upstairs with him and after telling him no too many times, he lifted me up bridal style and carried me up to my room while piles of water marked our path. 

This year, I’m alone with a bottle of vodka resting on my stomach. I balance the neck between my two fingers and it rises and falls with my breathing. Everyone is down at the beach with the pitcher of the pomegranate margaritas that we made. Belly begged me to come, holding my hands in hers as she pleaded with me. I told her I wasn’t feeling well and she hesitated, but left me anyway. 

The sun is shining through the window and I’m trying to keep my eyes closed to drown out the brightness but a shadow looms over my eyes. I opened one eye and suint at the figure hanging over me. It’s Conrad. “There you are,” he says with a laugh. His hair flops over his eyes and he’s smiling so wide I think he might swallow me whole. “I’ve been looking for you. Belly is getting totally wasted, you should see her.” I don’t laugh but I manage to muster a smile. “What’s wrong?” He asks me, his smile fading. I don’t want it to fade, I want it there plsatered between his cheeks forever. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head as if he doesn’t believe me and grabs the bottle from me. He takes a sip and jumps over the couch. I move my legs so he doesn’t land on them and he pulls them back into his lap. “What are you doing up here?” 

“It was all getting too much. Everyone is out of hand,” he tells me. He watches the alcohol swirl around in the glass bottle and he’s not looking at me but his thumb is rubbing my calf as it pushes into his thigh and then he asks me if I’m watching the fireworks tonight. “Jeremiah got some good ones to impress Dad, but I don’t even know if he’s staying.” Their dad coming was a shock to everyone, I think. Susannah told everyone this morning he wasn’t going to come but he showed up later with a six-pack of beer and Conrad’s mood visibly shifted. I didn’t ask, though. 

“Why do you say that?” I ask carefully. His breath is shaky and my question wavers on thin ice. He sighs and squeezes my ankle. 

“He and my mom got into it earlier. I don’t think he really had to work, I think Mom didn’t want him here,” he tells me. I tap my foot on the bottle in his hands and he looks at me. His eyes make my heart break. “I didn’t really want him here, either.” 

“What about Jeremiah?” 

“He was ecstatic. Bought a whole show of fireworks.” I smile at the thought but Conrad doesn’t. “So, are you coming?” 

“I don’t think so.” He nods and taps his fingers on my legs. “Unless you want me to?” 

“There’s a moon eclipse tonight,” he says. 

“It’s called a syzygy,” I say. “When the moon, sun, and Earth align. It comes from the Greek word syzgia which means ‘yoked together’.” He smiles at me and I can feel my cheeks heat up. “I was in science club for a while,” I admit. Conrad laughs. A real laugh with his head thrown back and his face turning red and it’s contagious. 

“Yoked together, huh?” He asks and I nod. “Well, yn, do you want to go see the sun, moon, and Earth be yoked together with me later?” 

“What about Nicole?” I hate myself for asking but I have to know so I ask anyway. 

“She doesn’t mean anything to me but I can’t wait around for you forever.” He looks at me and I know he doesn’t want to not wait for me. We look at each other and I know I should say something and tell him he doesn’t have to wait for me because I’m right here but there’s too much at stake and instead of saying what I want to say, I reach for the bottle of vodka and drink it until it’s gone and the room erupts in noise. Susannah calls for cake and Belly is at her heels like a toddler feening for sugar. “We should go out there,” he mumbles, lifting my legs off his lap and standing up. My legs slam down on the couch and I feel horrible. 

I have no choice but to follow him for cake except there won’t be any cake because as I step out onto the patio, Belly skips down the stairs and trips over her own feet and knocks into Susannah and the cake goes everywhere. 

Everyone rushes to Susannah's side but I’m glued in place. Mr. Fisher grabs at his wife and she pushes him off - “don’t touch me,” she yells. Everyone draws back. I can see Conrad’s shoulder tense in front of me. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She stands up, smooths down her dress, and walks passed everyone and into the house ignoring Belly’s slew of apologies. 

“So I guess no cake,” Conrad mumbles. I think I’m the only one who heard him. John brings Belly inside. She’s stumbling over her feet and slurring her words and John mouths I’m sorry to me. 

I don’t think Belly has ever gotten drunk before. In fact, she was always the one tellng everyone to slow down. She’d answer her phone on the first ring everytime I called and walked wherever I was. It wasn’t that big of a town and I never went very far, but one time she even had to take a bus to the party I was at. She waited for me and walked me home and made sure I didn’t stumble into the street. She provided water and Advil adn stayed with me when my mom wasn’t home. Belly was always stable. Sure. Secure. The sun that broke through my dark clouds.

It’s no surprise to me that no one is mad at her for ruining the cake. Even Susannah, who now has to buy a new cake stand, smiled and said everything was okay. No one could be mad at her even when she was a drunken mess. 

She’s in her bed, a half-eaten piece of pizza on her end table and she’s fast asleep. I almost want to wake her up. Tell her that everything is okay because Susannah said so and I know she would believe me. I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to change who she is because her friends at the country club want her to. She is not fasinators and white gloves and too much blush on her cheeks. She is not a drunken mess with sand in her shoes. She is more than that. 

There’s a soft knock on the door and I turn to see Conrad leaning against the door jam. He’s watching her, too. He doesn’t look at me until I speak. “Wanna go see the eclipse?” He smiles and holds out his hand for me and I take it. I check behind me one more time to make sure she’s asleep before disappearing down the hall with Conrad. Guilt rushing up my throat and I swallow it down. 

He takes me back to the pier as the sun goes down. We pass the big white boat and instead of taking me sailing, he takes me to Shark Bait. “You’re gonna take this thing out?” I ask, eyeing the ores  suspiciously. Conrad laughs and he helps me aboard. There’s already blankets in the boat and he opens one up to wrap it around my body. His hands linger on my arms and I swallow the guilt again. 

“You’re gonna help me row, okay?” 

“You don’t always have to teach me something, you know,” I whisper to him. I liked when he taught me stuff, though. I like when he’s passionate and excited and I like when he smiles with his eyes like he’s doing right now. 

“To impress a girl that already knows everything, I think I do.”

“You’d be surprised at how little I really know.” Conrad licks his lips and his eyes soften and instead of kissing him like I want to do, I pull away and grab at an ore. “So, how do we do this?” He clears his throat and talks me through the steps and we row the boat out as far as he lets me. I think I could have kept going forever until we hit another piece of land where no one knows us and no one is in love with him and I can kiss him if I want to. 

It starts to get really dark, especially out in the water where there are no lights besides the pier a million miles away. Conrad points to the stars and asks me what the constellations are and I tell him and then he gawks at me as if he’s never been more amazed in his life. He tells me, “I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.” 

And I want to say, “I love you.” But I don’t. I don’t say it and I don’t know if I love him but right now, in the dark, when I can’t really see his face clearly and his arm feels more real next to mine than it has ever felt before, I might. 

We sit on the floor of the boat and lean back against the seat. Conrad’s hand finds my leg and he rests it on my thigh. His fingers rub against my skin. It’s sweet and respectful and I don’t make him stop because right now it’s just me, him, and the planets being yoked together. I turn my head to say something and Conrad turns his at the same time and the only reason I know he’s so close to me is because I can feel his breath on my lips. The tip of his nose is touching mine and when I can’t see him, it’s easier to press my lips to his and not feel guilty. 

His hand finds my face in the dark and he cups my cheek. I lose myself in him. His lips, his scent, the way his hair brushes against my forehead when he presses his body closer to mine. This kiss is different. I’m not kissing him because I want to forget. I’m not kissing him because he’s here and convenient. I’m kissing him because I want to and the way that I’m feeling inside needs a way to escape and the only way they can be let out is this. 

I find myself on top of him. My hands are in his hair. His hands are on my waist. He pulls away briefly and between his heavy breath he says, “are you sure?” I’m not sure what he means by that, at least not right away. I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t sure but I put myself in his shoes for a moment and maybe he doesn’t know that. I nod. “I don’t want you to be sure now and then regret it in the morning.” 

“I don’t regret anything,” I say. “I don’t regret anything when it’s with you.” I mean it. I try to force him to believe me so I kiss him again and he leans into me and I know he does. 

“Then what’s been the issue?” He whispers. His thumb rubs against my cheek and I lean my face into him. “You know I can’t get you out of my mind.” 

“Belly,” I tell him. “She loves you and she’s my best friend.” He stiffens and maybe now he gets it. Why I said I can’t be with him. My heart races and I have to tell myself he’s not going to get up. He’s not going to leave. He’s not going to make me feel like I made a mistake. I repeat these three things in my head until he eventually speaks. 

“That’s why you asked me that the first night on the beach? About her?” I nod my head and he kisses my forehead and I like us like this. “Okay,” he says. I don’t know what he means by that but I don’t care because he kisses me again and I kiss him back and he roll around on the bottom of the boat and we’re wrapped up in the blanket and each other. He strokes my head and tells me stories until I fall asleep on his chest. I don’t wake up until the sun does. 

We row back to the pier and we don’t talk about last night. Not really, anyway. He smirks when he looks at me and keeps eye contact for too long but I don’t blame him because if I could, I’d capture the way he looks right now and keep it in my back pocket forever. “Are you ready to go home?” He’s leaning against the passenger side door of the car with a hesitant smile on his face.

“No, but yes.” He pushes himself off the car and kisses me. He lingers on my lips like he doesn’t want the moment to end and then he opens my door for me and drives us home. He holds my hand the whole way until we pull into the driveway. Seeing the house puts a pit in my stomach and he asks me if he can kiss me one more time before we go back to the real world and with the entire family still asleep. I say yes. 

The house feels heavier now that my head is so full of secrets and I knock on Belly’s door instinctively. She opens the door with a smile on her face. It looks misplaced because she’s not supposed to be happy, she’s supposed to be hungover, and seeing her happier than I feel inside makes me feel jealous and that makes me feel selfish. “What’s wrong?” She asks. The expression on my face was probably clear: guilt and fear, but not regret. Never regret.  I start to cry. I feel the tears drip down my cheeks and I try to wipe them away but Belly grabs my wrists and pulls me inside the room before I can and I sob. I collapse into her arms and I cry all over her pajama shirt and she doesn’t say anything. I can barely hear myself speaking but I know what I’m saying. Everything is wrong. Everything is wrong. Everything is wrong.

taglist: @marajillana@liltimmyst@angelayse @nani-2305 @drikawinchester @28cnn @nyenye @isthlsfate @spacefruitsblog @laceandsuch @peotego @hallecarey1

#tsitp #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp imagine #conrad fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher fan fic #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher x reader #conrad fisher rec #tsip conrad #conrad fisher fic #belly conklin #jenny Han

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Not a Zucest shipper (more into Maiko) but that scene where Azula isn't wearing makeup and she and Zuko are in her bedroom and she's all touchy-feely towards him was honestly more sexual and intimate than the Zvtara cave scene. Honestly I would argue that Azula is a lot more on his mind than Katara, who only comes to mind when she's convenient for tracking down Aang. Heck, I would even argue Zuko has more chemistry and investment with Aang than he does with Katara.

Maiko might not be my OTP but it is still a personal favorite because MY GOD, these two are clingy with each other and it's so fucking cute.

Zuko and Aang's friendship is legitimately one of the best parts of the show, and, ironically enough, their dynamic is the closest the show ever got to the fanon zutara idea of "this hero can tell the bad guy has a heart and wants to offer him the chance of being a better person", only without the romance part - but it could have totally made for a perfectly reasonable endgame if just a few details had been changed.

Plus everything about them meeting the dragons was absolutely iconic, from "I don't care what people said, you're pretty smart", to Zuko suggesting they think about their place in the universe, to AANG ASKING ZUKO TO DANCE WITH HIM, to Zuko looking Aang straight (hehehe) in the face and going "You are source of my fire by the way. No homo."

I just love it whenever these two are on-screen together.

As for the bedroom scene between Zuko and Azula in the awakening... oh boy, did my mind go straight to the gutter the first time I saw it (and every time after that too).

Grey Delisle, iconic voice actor, former stripper, and former narrator of trailers for porno movies, really took a look at this scene of her character's older brother coming to her bedroom in the middle of the night and thought "Wouldn't it be really funny if I added some incest vibes here?" (not that the animation itself made it all that difficult).

And yeah, Azula was definitively in Zuko's mind ALL THE TIME. Like, this boy was trapped in a cave during a snow storm, Aang's soul had literally left his body and, for some fucking reason, he just... starts venting about the sister he has not seen in years. Like, I KNOW they are just setting up Azula as the villain of the second season, but that came out of nowhere!

And him imagining her as the blue dragon that represents temptation and is whispering in his ear stuff like "Just give into it" and asking when he will be going to his bedroom, even after he said he doesn't feel like sleeping... buddy. Buddy. What the hell is this?

Also I can't find that video anymore, but there was some panel Bryke was at in which they were "suggesting" many ships to the audience - and one just happened to be Azula and The Blue Spirit. If someone has a link to it, please send it to me because the audience's outraged reaction was the funniest fucking thing.

In case any of you want to see Grey being chaotic as fuck, and making Dante all embarrassed (and flirting with him) I recommend you check out these videos because they are HILARIOUS!

#anti zutara #zukaang #zucest #grey delisle

[musings-of-a-rose]

This idea is in my mind, I think since, I saw Triple Frontier, and it was Pedro's first work that, I watched, and was love at first sight.

The root of idea was something, like reader being the Millers' cousin, I think, it's too cliché for my taste, I don't mind, people like that way.

First, you can answer this question in private or message me. You don't care if reader is, like 26 or 27 years? I'm 27 years old, I know, it's a BIG age difference, I feel more comfortable reading stories that, the reader is in same age group as mine, 20 to 29 years old. I notice that, writers over thirty, they don't seem to enjoy writing with female readers in that age group.

Well, let's forget about Tinder, if they met at a coffee shop, several times, until she got nerve to ask him, if he wants to go to dinner as a date. But that's not idea. Now, we jump to about four years later, they live together and they have a little boy, I thought Nicholas, you can change, if you want a girl. It's Thanksgiving, one of her two older sisters tells them that, as their mother went away on a trip, she thought about inviting Ben and Wil too, so they could have dinner with them. While two play with little boy on porch, the Millers are watching three of them, Ben, even trying playing with three, as Nicholas is a little child, he gets shy. Her sister arrives with an old friend, reader doesn't remember her, having seen her, rarely in childhood. They notice that, her friend seems to have seen a ghost. The reader undoes that, she needs to get one blanket for Nicholas, she follows voices, down hall to living room. She listens to their conversation, she hears her sister commenting that, she suspected that, she knew Frankie, when her little sister introduced him to family, her friend said, that she was in love with him at school, they were a few years younger than him. She gets it all wrong, at dinner, everyone notices that, reader is grumpy about something, she just answers yes or no, when someone asks her something, even Ben jokes with her, but Wil defends her from his brother, Frankie hides his laugh. Nicholas looks chuckling, they notice, only he makes her giggle. When they get home, after her sister convinces her to leave Nicholas with her, two begin to argue about her sister's friend, Frankie said that, he knew her, through halls of school, however, he never knew anything about her feelings for him. Well, Frankie shows how he loves and desires her, in sex for them to make up.

Sorry, so many details, I can never not say more than I should, thank you very much, in advance. ❤️ Xxxx

Then and Now 

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f! Miller Cousin reader

Word Count: 1500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Sorry this took so long to get to! My brain is not operable on most days. This wasn’t beta’d and I changed a couple small details. I hope that’s ok!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

My cousin Benny dragging me to a coffeehouse in the middle of the day should’ve been uneventful. He wasn’t boring by any means, but something as routine as grabbing a cup of coffee should’ve just been a typical day.

Except today, I met my soul mate.

Frankie Morales, bff to my cousin in Delta Force, was waiting for us when we got there, his eyes bright and brown and his smile lighting up the entire room, an electric shock winding its way through my body with his soft but firm handshake. I’m not entirely sure what he talked about that day as I spent most of it just in awe of him. But apparently I said something he liked because he showed up the next few times that Benny and I went to grab coffee, which happened to be a few times within a week. 

I knew what Benny was doing, smirking between Frankie and I as I finally loosened up enough to start laughing and joking with him, sometimes turning the conversation to more serious topics. He seemed to hang on every word I said, as I did the same to him, but when it came time to leave, he’d turn pink and shake my hand, rubbing the back of his neck or lifting his cap to run fingers through his hair before departing. It would be 3 weeks before I worked up enough nerve to ask him to dinner.

And here we are, 4 years later with a 2 year old boy, Nicholas. 

My parent’s house was always busy during the holidays and this Thanksgiving was no exception. My mom had invited our cousins, Benny and Will, as their parents were out of town on some cruise and my older sisters were inviting boyfriends and friends. Benny and Will took to Nicholas quickly, playing and chasing him around as he squeals with laughter, my mom scolding Benny when he nearly knocks her over in the kitchen as he bolts after Nicholas. 

A knock on the door prompts my eldest sister to leave the madness of the kitchen. I have no idea how she heard it over the amount of sounds and squeals coming from Ben and Nic, but a few moments later, she walks back in the kitchen accompanied by her friend…I want to say..Grace? I vaguely remember her face from my childhood, never seeing her long enough before my sister would slam her bedroom door in my face or they’d both race out the front door and head off to wherever they had plans. 

“Everyone, this is Grace. Grace, this is everyone. You remember my sister-” Grace nods at me and I nod back politely. 

“-and her long term boyfriend, Frankie.”

All the color drains from Grace’s face when she looks at Frankie. A cry of “MOMMMA!” pulls me from this conversation and I’m forced to leave the kitchen to take care of a crying Nicholas, who had run head first into the bannister when trying to escape from Benny.

“ ‘m sorry! He just runs so fast I couldn’t grab him in time.”

I wave him off. “It’s ok, Ben. It’s nothing a fancy bandage won’t solve.”

I get Nicholas to the upstairs bathroom where it’s quieter and fish a superhero bandage from my purse. After cleaning the minor cut, I put on the bandage and Nicholas admires it in the mirror, laughing when Benny picks him up and hauls him away down the stairs. I take a few minutes to clean the area and just take in the lessened noise when I hear my sister speaking to Grace in the hallway. 

“Frankie has really grown up,” Grace speaks quietly to my sister.

“Mmhmm. So funny he ended up in the same unit with my cousins.”

“Yeah…you know, I had such a crush on him in high school.”

“Not a crush, Grace. You were in love with him!”

“Sshh! I mean…yeah I was but there’s no way he would’ve gone out with me. I was just a shy freshman and he was a senior.”

“Didn’t you used to doodle his name all over your notebook?”

“Shut up!”

Their voices grew louder and then fade away as they pass the bathroom and head back downstairs. What the fuck was that? Not only did Grace know Frankie, my Frankie, but she was in love with him? How come my sister never mentioned she knew Frankie from school? Were they friends?

I quickly finish cleaning and head back downstairs, intending on questioning my sister, but I was cut off by my mother shoving plates of food at me and telling me to set the table. Impossible to say no to, I take the plates from my mom and help her, everyone piling in for dinner shortly after. 

I’m quiet during dinner, trying to process everything I just heard. Why did Frankie never mention that he knew my sister in school? Was there something there? What about Grace?

After dinner, my mother and Nicholas team up and beg me to let him stay overnight, a Thanksgiving sleepover at Grandma’s. I have no energy to argue, my brain still overtaken with thoughts about life and so I give in. Nicholas already has a bag here and we can come get him in the morning. 

The ride home is quiet, Frankie chatting idly about the food and which pie he liked the best. I simply nod or make quiet noises, which eventually clues him in that I’m not fully listening.

“Are you ok, bonita?”

“Do you know Grace?”

He’s quiet a moment. “Grace?”

“My sister’s friend.”

“Oh, Grace. Yeah, I remember her from high school vaguely. I passed her in the halls a lot with your sister apparently.”

“How come you never mentioned knowing my sister?”

“I didn’t really. I never knew her name and I only passed them in the halls. Honestly, I never made the connection until tonight.”

“So you didn’t ever hook up or anything?”

Frankie laughs before he notices the look on my face. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“No! I never knew their names. Someone may have told me at one point but I don’t remember.”

“So you didn’t notice Grace was in love with you?”

“What?”

I tell him everything I overheard in the hall and a look of realization washes over Frankie.

“Is this why you’re upset?”

I say nothing.

“Bonita, that was high school. I had no idea who they were, let alone that one of them was in love with me. I was focused on other things and going into the army.”

“You promise?”

“I do.”

We arrive at the house and I hop out, Frankie following me into the house, closing the door and locking it behind him. Before I can turn around, his large hands grip my hips tightly as he pulls me back into his chest, his nose nudging my head to the side so he can speak in my ear. 

"You are the only one for me, bonita."

He starts to kiss that spot on my neck that instantly makes me go weak and I moan into him. A deep chuckle puffs over my neck before his hands start to roam, fingers walking their way across my skin. His fingers find the hem of my dress and slide under it, rough skin gliding up my thighs. My breathing speeds up and I know he notices, my suspicion confirmed when his fingers trail lightly over my underwear, making my thighs twitch. 

He says nothing but continues to kiss at my neck, suckhaed enough to leave a mark as he dips below my panties, fingers tracing up the seam of me. Swallowing my moans as his lips find mine, he finds my clit and starts to rub slow circles there, occasionally sliding down, inching closer and closer to my hole with each drag of his finger. Once he does, he breaks the kiss, his own puff of air coming out as he feels how wet I am for him.

Impatience overtakes us both and as I bend forward over the back of the couch, Frankie yanks my underwear down to my ankles, the sound of a zipper quickly following as he shuffles up against me. I feel him line up with me before he quickly thrusts inside, crying out with me in pleasure at his abrupt entrance. 

My hand shoots out and I grab at his hips, desperately trying to get him to move. He takes the hint and pulls out, pushing back in at a rough pace, pushing the couch across the floor slightly in time with his hips. Neither of us says a word, the room filling with the sounds of pleasure and sex. 

His hand moves back between my thighs and he touches me exactly how he knows I need him and I plunge over the edge, tightening around him as I cry out his name, stars erupting behind my vision. It doesn't take him long before he follows, his hips sputtering against my ass as he spills himself inside me. 

His fingers still grip my hips, his breaths starting to even out with mine as we both start to come back to reality. He pulls out of me and I feel him dripping down the inside of my thighs. But before I can move, he’s kissing me, his hands gently holding my face as his thumbs caress my cheeks. He pulls back and the amount of love I feel pouring out of him nearly overwhelms me.

“I love you, bonita. You’re the only one for me.”

--------

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @Hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @jadore-andor @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales

[herequeerexitentialfear]

7 Snippets

Tyy for the tag @dujour13 ! im very bad at selecting small snippets, so under the cut they go!

one wotr Cecio, mostly jojos Celia n co, bc i have been rotating how they interact all week, with a peek at the two CeliaXElena ockiss pieces [born to run&everlasting kiss]

im about to log off but if anyone hasn't been tagged please take this as your tag!

snippet one: Dear Sister

Red, red, everywhere. I never understood ‘seeing red’ as a phrase for when fury takes over, but it seems I am now drowning in it, staining my hands, my clothes, my soul. It was as easy as drowning. I finally saw the rising tide for what it was, and made one last struggle against the waters with the angel's light, but I felt the red flood down my throat all the same, and I succumbed. Yet I find I breathe easier now, even as my corpse lies at my feet, even as the water takes me. My mind is quiet and my body is mine. That is to say, the good man is dead. I am what's left. But you know all about that don’t you, my dear sister?

snippet two: all i got's a photograph

Black hair and a sharp face, almost in profile, pressed against her own golden curls, as he wrapped around her, one pale arm slung over her shoulder and the other coming out from under her own, to hide underneath her jacket, wrapping around her torso. Conficcare. Her second oldest friend, and one of the only people who could aggressively cling to her like that and get away with it in public. She has to fight the smile, just like the Celia in the photograph, exasperated fondness is the strongest emotion in her heart when she thinks of him. Conficcare. The next strongest emotions he evokes are regret, are sorrow, for the child he was, the man he became, and her part in both of those. Much can be said of how long they have known each other, have fought for each other, have loved each other, all of them.  Little is said on how it took time to get past that first stage. It's easy to look back at the history, and say it was rosy, but for every fight back to back, there is one face to face, for every kind word- for every mean word said in jest, is one in truth.

snippet three: There was no way this house could hold the two of us, i guess that we were too much of the same kind

Finally, something snaps inside Rametto, and he turns to Celia, making painfully direct eye contact, lips twisted into a sneer as he bares his teeth, “You’re not my damn father, what do you care?” He sees golden eyes go wide, and he regrets it immediately. Hes- hes not like his brother. He's careful. He opens his mouth again, wishing he could brush it all under a rug- “I know- I know I have no right-”  her voice shakes and he wishes he could say it's the last night, the exhaustion, but it feels like he can see her properly, and that exhaustion is not just from one night spent worrying over numbers, its a lifetime of exhaustion, and Celia is only nine years older than him, only six years older than Cecio, and suddenly he realises she's so damn young.  Something in the back of his mind is screaming, terrified.  She breaks eye contact first, ducking her head, and suddenly it feels terribly dark in the kitchen.

snippet four: for what its worth, i never meant you any pain

Golden eyes flick to the report cards pinned with touristy magnets on the fridge, and the part of Celia that raised Cecio wonders if she needs to stop him staying out so late, but the part of her that sees who Cecio is now, knows there isn't much hope. Not for Rametto, not for the little brother of Conficcare, the protege of Muro, for the boy who will become a man, and step into a whole new world of violence. At her orders.  Her head shakes, trying to banish the thoughts from her face as the outer door clicks, and she settles back into stillness, waiting to see what Rametto does. Pause, unlace his shoes, then try and place them on the floor quietly is the first part of that answer. He opens the inner door and treads carefully, avoiding floorboards like he's seven and superstitious again, making his way towards the cupboards, putting his bag on the floor and letting it lean against the side of the counter, leaning down himself to unzip it -and taking out the battered metal box Celia remembers Stecco taking to school, still with the dent from where she threw it at his head but changed trajectory at the last second, hitting the metal pole he was leaning on instead.

snippet five: born to run

In hindsight Celia is sure she screamed, teeth flashing, and she gripped the steering wheel and slammed her foot on the pedal, her instinct taking over, calculating angles and skid and acceleration, a too fast stream of information, as her brain shut out anything beyond what was strictly necessary, trusting in Elena to solve any attempted sabotage.

snippet six: i wanna die with you wendy on the streets tonight in an everlasting kiss

She doesn't mind letting the cold seep into her through her coat, Elena right next to her and gazing out at the city skyline, doesn't mind it at all. If her eyes linger on the person beside her, on the folds of leather, on the still paint splattered hands, on her eyes and face and lips, then that's her secret. Elena is too distracted to notice her lingering gaze, hands twitching like she wants to reach for a paint brush, as her eyes stare into the distance, mind whirring with composition and colour.  She's an artist to the bone, got creation on her soul, and one day, Celia prays, Elena will have the time and money to put to canvas every painting she ever dreamed of making, even the ones she's daydreaming of now, when it's just half formed thoughts to distract herself while waiting.

snippet seven: everlasting [kiss again]

A voice next to her bites out, “Idiota” any malice blunted by the fondness that underlies every syllable. And Celia turn her head towards her sun and grins too, wide and full of love, giggles turning to cackles, Tesoros shoulders shaking alongside his head, as he lowers his arms and reveals his own grin, and finally Elena cracks to, rolling her eyes as the twitch at the corner of her mouth turns into a smile, lovingly frustrated, but then her eyes glint maliciously and she opens her mouth again-

#look out of 6 works only four titles are from bruce springsteen songs #and i consider that an act of great restraint!! #thebirdwrites #gold & silver #ive actually been doing a lot of writing recently! #they are getting longg and are know where near finished #but im chipping away at them!!

[descendantofthesparrow]

Days in the sun - Walter Deville x Reader - P3

Taking inspo from chap 5 and 10 of Walter de Ville's Advocate! Yall can see exactly where I took inspo/ref from too XDXD

=

She glanced this way, I thought I saw And when we touched, she didn't shudder at my paw No, it can't be, I'll just ignore But then she's never looked at me that way before

-

I got up early the next day, getting most of my paperwork out of the way so I could spend time with (y/n), and Evie…I really had no damn clue how I would pull anything off now. Considering the doubts I now had about the wedding. With (y/n) back, I didn’t need the families anymore, and I didn’t want to put the person who had brought back my (y/n) into such peril.

It had taken me a minute to figure out, but with the return of (y/n), it felt like I had come back to life. When she was gone-I was nothing but an emotionless shell of who I used to be. Moving along with the days and not caring for who I hurt. (y/n) was my soul, my humanity-with her return, came back my guilt, my remorse, my empathy.

I couldn't curse Evie to this, she didn’t say yes to this-to any of this. She didn’t even know about what I was, or what her family was involved in. we were all tricking her and I felt horrid. I had to figure out a way to stop the wedding without setting anyone off. If anything-I could just say she said no-but that wouldn’t bode over well, Viktoria was power hungry-and while I could tell she didn’t like Evie(or (y/n)) she would do anything to regain our full might-even if it meant forcing Evie to say yes.

I sighed, dropping my pen and rubbing my face-the dawning sun breaking across the horizon. I had always been an early riser, but today I wanted to be up before the sun rose-just to make sure I had the day clear of work. “What the fuck am I going to do?” I whispered to myself, feeling frustration bubbling at my chest and teeth-I’m pretty sure the only damn person-or vampire-that wouldn’t react badly to me not wanting to marry Evie would be Lucy-she was an extremely understanding and empathetic person-and she held that quality into her immortality. Though she didn’t hold it while feeding-she was just as bloodthirsty as Viktoria was, and I used to be.

“You seem frustrated my dear.” I peeked between my fingers at the new voice-seeing both Viktoria and Lucy making their way toward me to join me on the patio. I just hummed, brushing my hands through my hair and letting my bangs fall into my eyes-feeling Viktoria’s hand thread into my hair and brush them back again-she preferred the slick back style(which always made me look older than the age I had stopped at). Turning my attention to Lucy-who had been the one to speak up-I shrugged, leaning forward out of Viktoria’s grip and leaning my elbows on the table-something which Viktoria crunched her nose at.

She was always one for proper etiquette-but I really didn’t give a fuck. “I suppose I am,” I muttered, looking down at my paper work-not paying attention as one of the maids of the manor came up and gave the three of us mimosas-all three lightly dyed red from the blood mixed into them. I took mine gingerly, holding back a grimace at the taste-now that (y/n) was back, all blood to me was stale-I only wanted hers, I only wanted her.

“Why?” Lucy asked, my two brides sitting down with me at the patio table, sipping at their mimosas. I just shrugged again; it wasn’t something I could tell lucy with Viktoria around. So instead I just told her ‘wedding stuff’ to which she nodded. “Understandable, it’s been over 100 years since the last wedding, normal to have some nerves or frustration,” Lucy hummed, and I smiled a bit-there it was, that empathy that drew me to her originally. Viktoria just huffed, swirling her glass. “Especially since the new bride has no clue about all this-tell me dearest,” Viktoria hummed, her dark eyes burning a hole in my head “What is the plan? Seduce her into saying yes? And what of the friend? Will she be Evelyn's first meal?”

I had to hold back from baring my fangs at the mere thought of (y/n) just being a meal. The only being that would ever taste her blood would be me. “I haven't figured out that last bit yet,” I muttered, telling a semi-truth. Viktoria just hummed, eyes drifting back to Lucy. Fuck what was I going to do with (y/n)? If she didn’t remember, of course I couldn’t just-force her to stay! But with her alive I couldn’t just-marry Evie with any good conscience -fuck I couldn’t stay married to Lucy or Viktoria with any good conscience either.

 But I had no idea how to end it all, the contract was forged in blood-curated by a witch near 500 years ago. I had no magical prowess of my own but…but if (y/n) remembered, she might be able to void that contract. I sighed, rubbing my face as I closed my paperwork folder, I would finish it later. I was happy to have (y/n) back, but damn did it just-make things so complicated.

I looked up to see Viktoria eyeing the balcony where (y/n)’s room connected, her claws edging out from her fingertips. “One scratch on her and you’ll be locked to the bottom of the lake till spring thaws the ice.” I hissed out, surprising both Viktoria and Lucy at the pure danger in my voice, along with such a punishment. But gods be damned if I let (y/n) be hurt under my protection again. “We don’t want any suspicions from either of them-so play nice.” Viktoria just huffed, accepting my quick cover-up from my sudden threat, and finished her mimosa, setting the glass delicately on the table and leaning forward in her chair.

“Who is she?” Viktoria hummed, her eyes icy and dark as she rested her chin on her hands, Lucy peeked at me from behind her glass-clearly also curious about (y/n). “I’ve noticed you’re quite…protective of her.” Viktoria hummed, carefully choosing her words to describe the way I acted towards (y/n). She clearly hadn't learned from the previous night when I had told her (y/n) was no concern of hers. I just blinked at her, taking my mimosa and finishing it off, barely tasting it as it went down my throat.

“Now, I didn’t ask you such questions when you had that little fling with Mira, did I not?” I hummed, carefully warning Viktoria to back off. Her eyes narrowed at the mention of Mira-a maid she had taken a shine to back in the 1600s. “So, you should give me the same courtesy and give me the same privacy.” I finished with a slight bow of my head, giving a half grin to my eldest wife-who just continued to glare at me. “So the master has taken a shine to a commoner? How cute.” Viktoria muttered, standing abruptly and walking off, jutting her head to order Lucy to follow.

Lucy waited a few moments to tell me she thought (y/n) seemed nice, to which I couldn’t help but smile. I watched her walk off after Viktora and sighed-feeling bad for my bubbly bride-Viktoria held such a grip on her-If it came down to it-I wasn’t sure where Lucy’s loyalties would lie-even if her vows demanded they be with me.

I sighed, sitting back in my chair and rubbing my nose.

I needed a fucking drink.

And a nice breakfast with (y/n).

-

I took it upon myself to make breakfast-knowing exactly how (y/n) liked her meals, and while French toast had certainly changed over the centuries-I was certain she would still like how I made them. I tasted the mixture before adding eggs and nodded, perfect. I carefully dipped the thick sliced Brioche and set it on the griddle, slicing up some strawberries as I waited for it to cook. When I flipped the slice I started on some eggs, making sure they were cooked and seasoned exactly the way (y/n) liked them.

“Now where are those hashbrowns,” I muttered to myself, looking into my fridge, I had pre-grated them a few hours back just so I didn’t have to rush them while I made everything else. I found them exactly where I had put them, right behind the bacon pack. I placed the finished slices into the warmed oven along with the eggs, oiled the griddle, and started on the hashbrowns. Again-made very differently compared to back then-but who didn’t like fried potatoes?

Viktoria. My mind supplied and I couldn’t help but chuckle. She would be furiously jealous if she saw me doing this for some ‘random commoner’ instead of her. But she didn’t even like human food-she had grown an intense dislike for anything human-other than human blood. Besides-I was making enough for me, (y/n), and Evie-just in case she joined us but-I had a strong feeling Evie would be sleeping in.

When the hashbrowns were finished, I plated the food and called Mrs. Swift to help me transfer everything to the patio, she seemed surprised to see my kitchen in such a state-she knew I liked to cook sometimes-but not to this degree-nor had I ever cooked for anyone but my wives or myself.

I got a few pastries that I knew (y/n) liked, and a few I thought Evie would like, and made sure everything was perfect. I took a few steps back from the decorated table and nodded to myself. “Perfect,” I whispered, turning on my heel and ruffling my hair as I made my way back inside and up to (y/n)’s room, asking for Mrs. Swift to attempt to wake up Evie.

I knocked on her door gently, chuckling as I heard her groan awake and shuffle over to her door-looking so adorably sleepy as she opened it and looked up at me-rubbing her eyes as she pouted slightly. “Good morning,” I whispered, grinning as she muttered it back quietly. “there’s breakfast on the patio, French toast with strawberries?” There it was-she was wide awake at the mention of French toast. Her eyes nearly sparkled and I once again had to hold myself back from smothering her with my affection.

Fuck why was she so damn cute.

“French toast?” she croaked, and oh my heart-my heart, I was going to melt from her-oh my gods. I just nodded instead of taking her cheeks and kissing her silly. “yes, and strawberries.” And with that-the door was shut in my face-I couldn’t help but laugh, tears in my eyes as I heard (y/n) rush to get dressed-though I wouldn't have cared if she stayed in her Pjs.

When the door opened again, all (y/n) said was; “French toast,” and I laughed again, tucking her hand into my arm and leading her outside, opening the door for her and letting her go first. She took a deep breath as she stepped out, a smile on her face as she took in the food I had made for her. “Yum~” she sang, and I was smiling so much my cheeks began to hurt. Though it turned into a pout when (y/n) sat down before I could get her chair for her.

I sat down across from her, noticing (y/n)’s eyes glancing between the seat between us and me, Evie’s plate of food still sitting under its cover. “Who’s that for?” (y/n) asked, decorating her food as she liked. I nodded back towards the manor, my cheek in my palm as I watched (y/n) begin to eat. “Evie, but I think she’s suffering from intense jetlag.” I joked, grinning as (y/n) snorted, nodding as she did. And almost as soon as I finished saying that-Mrs. Swift arrived, without Evie-looking a bit nervous. And it was understandable, Evie-who was my bride to be-would not be joining me for breakfast-denying my time with her. I should’ve been at least frustrated at it.

But I really couldn’t care, I had my (y/n). “My apologies for interrupting Lord Deville, but Ms. Evie is a bit…stubborn, to wake up, I’m afraid she won’t be joining you.” I just nodded, handing some strawberries to (y/n) as she looked around for them, grinning as she scooped some out onto her plate, dancing in her seat as she tossed a piece into her mouth.  “That’s just fine,” I said to Mrs. Swift with a wave of my hand, smiling softly at my beloved as she ate the food I had made for her “let her have her rest, I have the perfect company already.” Mrs. Swift glanced between me and (y/n), confused at my attitude towards (y/n), but didn’t question it, bowing out and returning to her duties.

I looked back at (y/n), watching her with soft eyes as she continued to eat, my eyes drawn to her lips as she liked them free of syrup. She looked up at me, pointing her fork at my food and tilting her head. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” she asked, jolting me out of my thoughts-most of which were….not safe for work-as one might say. I cleared my throat-looking down at my food-which I hadn’t taken the cover off of yet.

“oh-uh, yeah.” I chuckled, taking the cover off and setting it aside, grabbing some butter and syrup and decorating it as I liked, pausing for a moment before I took a bite-it had been quite a bit since I last ate human food-I had only recently regained such a love for it actually.

About 10 years ago really.

Which reminded me-I needed to ask (y/n) about her last 10 years, what had happened? Where had she gone after waking up under the Wych tree? Why had she been homeless? I needed to know what had happened to her.

“So,” I started as casually as I could, setting down my fork and leaning back in my chair, holding my hand in front of my mouth as I spoke-It was rude to speak with your mouth full after all. “What have you been doing the last ten years? I know you said you were homeless for most of it but-“ I made a gesture and puffed my cheeks, something (y/n) giggled at, a warmth filling my chest at the sound, god how I had missed that sound. I felt my cheeks flush as she smiled at me, tilting her head just so. “--along that?” I asked, leaning forward in my chair as (y/n) fiddled with her necklace, humming as she thought back through the last 10 years.

She looked towards the gardens-her eyes catching onto the flowers I had planted myself, her favorites. “Well uh, for the first year, I just-kinda wandered.” She muttered, furrowing her brows a bit as she recalled what she had done. “I didn’t know where I was, or really-who I was. I only had my necklace and my name. This family took me in when they found me-wandering about-and let me stay for a bit, and for about a year I went from hotel to hotel, street to street just looking for anything that could help me remember, but-“ she sighed, and I so desperately wanted to take her in my arms-seeing how much she struggled, not just in life-but within her own mind-she had been all alone-having to learn about the modern world on her own. Without me.

(y/n) continued, her eyes glancing to the side. “Nothing came to me, so I saved up some money, got a ticket, and flew to New York.” New York? Why New York? I must’ve looked confused or something because (y/n) waved off the notion. “Why New York? I have no idea, it was the first place I saw and I decided it would be the best place for me.” She glanced down at her lap, her frown deepening. ““I lived on the streets for two years, I practically starved to death several times-“ I felt my heart crack, the metal of my chair bending under my grip, a tightness in my chest as I imagined my darling all alone, hunger pains I knew all too well racking her body. I knew what nearly starving to death felt like-when my mother died-my father fell into a deep depression, and my sister was hardly old enough to provide us with enough to survive.

The only reason I lived that winter was thanks to my father's closest friend, who had taken the then three of us in and fed us as well as he could.

I shook my head back into the present as (y/n) continued on. “but I was able to save up enough to rent a room for a few months, and then get a job; it didn’t pay much, I had to choose between a roof over my head and food many times but…yeah.” She shrugged, as if her struggles hadn’t been a big deal-as if she hadn’t almost died-as if I hadn’t lost my beloved from something out of my control.

I rested my hand on the table, giving my softest smile that I always knew made her feel better-the same smile I gave her after her mother died from pneumonia when we were 16. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I whispered, tilting my head slightly as (y/n) smiled back, her eyes dilating and she seemed to be out of focus for a moment, her breath catching as something caught her attention.

My brows furrowed as she stared off into space, whispering her name until she shook her head, holding the necklace tight in her grip. “Are you okay?” I asked, biting my lip as she nodded. “You spaced out for a moment there.”

“Yes, yes I’m fine just-another” she waved her hand, glancing away from me as she did “memory, I guess.” My heart skipped a beat and I leaned towards her, nearly begging to know what she had remembered-and if it was a strong memory or not. As she described what it was-I felt a smile grow on my face, it was of us, I remembered it quite dearly-after we got married and enjoying a late morning breakfast in the gardens of her home. She had said something and I couldn’t help but laugh-just, happy to be there with her.

I was taken back to reality when I heard my head gardener call for me, walking up to the patio with his hands behind his back. “The grounds are ready for inspection sir.” I nodded with a hum, finishing off my eggs before getting to my feet-holding out my hand to (y/n) with an inviting smile. “Would you like a tour while I do lord stuff?” (y/n) laughed at my wording and took my hand, letting me lead her off to the gardens-staying silent as the gardener explained what had been done and admiring while I gestured around some of the hedges-requesting a few changes here and there.

We passed by a bush of her favorite flowers, and I saw her eyes were immediately drawn to them. I couldn't help myself. I carefully plucked one from its bush and held it out to (y/n), laughing as she stepped back and shook her head. “I shouldn’t,” she said, holding up her hands in denial. I just smiled and continued to hold it out to her-the gardener excused himself at that point. “you should,” I pushed, feeling a bit cheeky as she shook her head, laughing as she did-she clearly wanted to take it-but didn’t want to just snatch it from my hand.

“I shouldn’t.”

“you should.”

“I shouldn’t!”

“You should.” I pushed one last time, biting the inside of my lip as (y/n) took her flower and held it close to her chest, a small cheeky grin on her lips “I will.” she ended in a hum, smiling up at me. I chuckled, shaking my head as (y/n) and I continued to walk through the gardens again, taking every twisting path there was through the small maze the garden hedges and flowers created.

I took a moment to breathe-just, happy to have her by my side again-even if she didn’t know I was her Harrison-I would wait another 900 years for her to do so. “so,” my attention turned to (y/n) as she began to speak, twirling the flower between her fingers. I hummed, gesturing for her to continue speaking. “Tell me about yourself? What do you do for fun?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head slightly as I kicked a small rock out of the way, raising my shoulders a small bit as I glanced at her with a small smirk. “And here I thought you would ask about Harrison?” I teased, though I really had expected her to ask about ‘my brother’, I didn’t mind her asking about me. Maybe she had already unknowingly made the connection between me and ‘him’.

(y/n) just shrugged, pursing her lips a bit as she looked up at the sky. “Well,” she muttered, looking back at me and tilting her head back and forth. “he was your brother, I just-I dunno-thought it would be a bit…insensitive just to ask about him?” I couldn’t help but smile-hiding it by looking off into the gardens, my eyes catching onto a deer that swiftly ran back into the forest when it felt my eyes. i….really didn’t know how to answer that question, many things I did for fun-I didn’t do anymore.

Because what was the point when she wasn’t there to have fun with me?

But I tried to recall what I did now-adays to pass the time, which-wasn’t much. “I like playing the piano, haven’t done it in a while though.” My voice turned to a matter at the end, rubbing my chin as I felt (y/n)’s eyes on me. “uh-I write sometimes?….damn I don’t do a lot of stuff other than work.”

(y/n) laughed, which sent butterflies through my stomach. I grinned down at her, my eyes drifting down to her free hand. I reached out just slightly, pulling back as she looked at me-her eyes just as wonderful as I remembered-that wonderful kindness still in her eyes. “busy bee ain't ya?” she teased, laughing as I dramatically rolled my eyes, sticking my hands back in my pockets, kicking that same small rock out of my path.

“Yeah,” I muttered, licking under my top lip and huffing “don’t really have time for myself anymore.” I tried to remember the last time I did something for myself-or did something for fun that wasn’t…feeding or some sort of-stuffy party that I really didn’t care about.

(y/n) hummed, reaching up and curling her hand around my elbow-her pinkie catching my exposed arm which sent lightning down my spine again. God I had missed her. I noticed her slowing down, and I came to a stop with her-watching her gaze that drew over to the overgrown path that led to our old home.

The old castle.

I swallowed, feeling my hands shake as (y/n) nodded towards that path, and I could tell she felt a pull towards it-something was telling her to go down that path.

I wasn’t ready for her to do that yet. I wasn’t ready for her to face a barrage of memories that might break her.

“Where does that go?” (y/n) asked and I shrugged, taking my hand out of my pocket and resting it on her shoulder-her hand dropping from my elbow as I started to guide her back towards the manor. “uh-just-just an old forest path; it’s not really used anymore, poison ivy got out of hand.” I explained-which it wasn’t a lie-it was overgrown with poison ivy. (y/n) just hummed, accepting my answer and letting me lead her back into the manor, I turned to her as we stepped into the main hall. “Have you had a tour of the manor yet?”

(y/n) shook her head, leaning into my side as I turned and guided her towards my study. “Well then, let us start in the library, or rather my office.” I unlocked the door and pushed it open, letting her fully step inside before I closed the door behind me. (y/n) let out a low whistle of appreciation as she gazed into my study, trailing her hand along the back of the couch that had just been placed in front of the fireplace-sitting just across from the loveseat.

“Comfy,” she said, her gaze drawn to the animal heads I had decorating the walls-another pastime of mine-one that I only participated in once a year.

She paused at my selection of books-all my personal favorites. I had made sure they were separate from the actual library of the manor-which was much bigger and had many more books. “What are your favorites to read?” she asked, and I hummed, stepping beside her and trailing my hands across the many books that sat on the shelves-only one on my mind.

It was the one that reminded me of her, and the love we held. There it was. I pulled the old book from its shelf, it was maybe only 50 years old-not even that, but it was one I read over and over nowadays, one of the few things that made me feel like I did back then. I handed the book to (y/n), grinning as she gasped and ran her hands gently over the cover. “The princess bride, I love that one.” She whispered, making my heart flutter-knowing she loved it like I did- she gently opened the book and her jaw dropped at the special mark just under the cover. “is this a first edition?”

I nodded, tucking my hands into my pocket and rocking on my heels slightly, a soft grin on my lips. “Yes, I do have a fondness for original works but-that was one of the first I collected with the intent to use instead of shelving it.” (y/n) hummed, reading through the first few pages before attempting the hand the book back to me-I lifted my hand to stop her, her head tilting adorably at my refusal to put it back. “Keep it, at least until you…leave.”

Right. She had to leave at some point-that’s if she didn’t remember, which while I had hope I could help her regain her memories before the weeks end-I wasn’t sure if I could. And if she didn’t-she would return to New York only knowing me as her long-dead beloved’s brother. I shook those thoughts away, gesturing to the book as she brought it back to her chest with the flower-her eyes sparkling. “I can tell you want to read it.”

(y/n) beamed with a giddy giggle, and that one smile seemed to erase all worry from my mind. I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart fluttering as she looked down at the book with such fondness, fondness I had missed for so many years. “Thank you.” (y/n) said, taking my elbow as I offered it and nodded towards the door. “shall we continue?” I asked as I led her out of my study and continued to show her the manor.

We skipped the kitchen-as it was somewhere she had already seen the day before, the bandage still on her finger. I joked with such a reference and (y/n) snorted, leaning her head on my shoulder as I guided her back towards the grand dining room, where the rehearsal dinner would be taking place. I gestured out at the room, leading her to the set of double glass doors that led out to the back gardens and a small stone patio. “This is the grand dining room, which connects to the balcony and the back gardens; where the cocktail party this Friday, tomorrow, will be held.” (y/n) nodded and hummed as she looked out into the gardens, where now; my servants were setting up for the party tomorrow evening.

(y/n) suddenly took a sharp breath, as if in pain and I quickly looked down at her-holding back from taking her and looking her over for any injuries. But instead of doing so I simply stepped closer to her-looking her over as I asked her what was wrong. (y/n) just cursed under her breath and I realized her sharp breath was not one of pain, but annoyance or frustration. “I didn’t bring any dresses with me that would say-cocktail party.” She muttered, looking out at the gardens again.

My mind was filled with thoughts of (y/n) in a cocktail dress, her leg peeking out of a slim black dress. I swallowed at the thought, mentally filing that thought away for later. “No worries, I’ll handle it.” I said, smiling as (y/n) looked up at me, wondering what I meant. She asked as such and I just smiled wider, slowly walking out of the room as (y/n) pushed for an answer, laughter bubbling in her chest as I walked out of the dining room and towards the conservatory that I had turned into an artist's loft for Evie.

“oh wow,” (y/n) gasped softly, setting down the book and flower, and exploring the room eagerly, her hands running over the pottery wheel. “Eve would have a field day with this room,” she muttered, to which if I was still planning on the whole wedding thing-would have been great news. But now it was just nice to see (y/n) exploring the room. “oh~” she walked up to an easel-a portrait I had been working on resting on the stand. “who’s making this?” (y/n) asked, pointing at the half-finished painting.

“I am” I said, a bit of pride in my voice. Drawing had always been something I was passionate about; I had several sketchbooks tucked away in my study. I stepped towards (y/n), looking at the unfinished portrait of my older sister, Harriet.

My father had never been original with names. Harriet. Harrison.

“you’re very talented” (y/n)’s voice broke through my thoughts and I hummed in thanks, my eyes drifting down to the brushes and paint I had been forced to put down a few days ago, my schedule too busy to pick them back up. “who is she?”

I blinked, not expecting that question-nor was I sure how to answer it. But-I decided to tell the truth “My sister, my older sister.” I muttered, sighing softly. I missed her, she had died about 60 years after I had been turned-and not a day goes by I wished she was still here, to guide me like she always had. “Harriet.”

I blinked, I hadn't said her name-(y/n) did, her eyes almost glazed over as she gazed at Harriet’s portrait, her eyes caught onto the dark curly hair that I had been in the middle of painting. “Harriet, right? That was her name?”(y/n) asked, turning to me, looking overjoyed at remembering my big sister. I couldn’t help but grin with her, nodding.

“yes,” I rasped, feeling a catch in my chest. “yes, that was her name. Harriet.” (y/n) hummed, watching me carefully as I turned to look at the portrait-that while unfinished-still brought those damned feelings to the surface. My chest felt heavy, tingles ran down my arms, my stomach turned with a heaving lurch, and pins stabbed at my lungs.

Grief. A feeling I had never been able to get rid of, not when I outlived my baby sister, not when the pain of losing (y/n) was still so fresh even with her return. I took a breath, one (y/n) noticed but didn’t comment on, gently reaching out and taking my pinkie and ring finger in her index finger, squeezing gently as she did.

Just her touch soothed my heart and I took another breath, smiling down at her as she gazed at the unfinished painting. “Thank you,” I whispered and she hummed, squeezing my fingers again. I coughed lightly, moving forward and around the easel-her fingers still holding mine as her free hand grabbed the book and flower “Shall we move on? There’s plenty more to see.”

(y/n) nodded, her arm flush against mine as I led her back out of the conservatory and into the hall’s, leading her to the other side-where the library and sun room sat. I took her to the library first, laughing as she practically ran into it like a child in a candy store-spinning on her heels as she took in the two-story room, a spiral staircase leading up to the 2nd floor-a set of doors leading to the upstairs hallway for 2ndary access. “oh this is beautiful” (y/n) whispered, running her hand along the wood island that sat in front of the staircase, her eyes flickering about the grand room-catching on the gold harp in the corner-Viktoria’s.

“Oh that’s beautiful,” she gasped in awe, walking over to it and gently running her fingers across the top. “Do you play it?” I shook my head at her innocent question, chuckling as I did. “no, my skill lies with the piano,” I gestured to the piano that lay on the other side of the room-one of several pianos in the estate actually. “That belongs to one of the maids of honor, whom you’ll most likely meet at the cocktail party.” (y/n) hummed turning on her heel and admiring the room once more before I held out my hand again, wanting to hold hers once more. “Come-there’s still lots to show.”

(y/n) skipped over to me and took my hand, our fingers soon laced tightly together as I continued to show her my manor; the sun room, the spa, the lounge, the ballroom(which was unused for now), and lastly(at least for the main floor)-the hall of ancestors.

Where portraits of my family-and hers- were hung around the room. I wondered if It were too soon to show her, but I knew she would be suspicious if I avoided that room-so I was caustic as we stepped inside. “Well, here you go,” I muttered, watching as she walked about the long room-gazing upon the portraits of my family.

She stopped at the portrait of my father, now long dead, and tilted her head at him. “James, right?” she asked, turning to me, a grin on her face-widening when I nodded. “Two points,” I chuckled, pushing off the door and walking over to her, looking up at the face of my father. His icy green eyes stared back, and I quickly looked away, watching as (y/n) trailed her hand upon the red rope that separated the wall from any visitors-just to make a small barrier to prohibit any touching from the portraits-all of them were centuries old now.

“Who is this?” My attention was brought back to reality as (y/n) looked up at a portrait of my mother that sat a few feet away from my fathers. My heart lurched a bit, (y/n) had never met my mother, she had died years before my family moved to Whitby-where I met (y/n). “My mother, Iris.” I supplied, stepping behind (y/n) and smiling softly at my mother's visage; her eyes reflecting my own. “You never met her, died when I was only a few months old. Harriet was three.”

One might ask how I remembered her face so well if she died when I so young, I didn’t. Harriet had taken it upon herself to memorize every detail, and my father's friend had sketched up several pieces for me and Harriet to keep in her memory-which I used to commission her portrait. I really remembered her eyes the most-and her voice-it could be compared to sirens.

(y/n) frowned, turning to me and taking my hand, and I was suddenly aware of the burning sensation in my nose. I sniffed, reaching up with my free hand and pinching my nose for a quick moment. “I’m fine-it was a long time ago,” I whispered, smiling as (y/n)’s fingers curled around my palm, squeezing it lightly.

“As Evie would say,” (y/n) softly muttered, stepping closer and resting her cheek on my shoulder. “the pain of losing someone never really leaves you.” I sighed, licking my lips and squeezing her fingers gently. I knew that all too well, not just of my mother or sisters-but of (y/n), whom I thought I had lost forever until yesterday.

“who-who’s that?” I turned, eyes widening as I looked upon the portraits of the Godkin family-(y/n)’s family. She was staring at a portrait of her mother, her hand slowly leaving mine as she walked towards the opposite side of the room. “oh uh,” I coughed into my fist, quietly pushed away from my mother, and stepped next to (y/n). “the Godkin’s, the family the Deville’s married into and the original heirs to the fortune. Without them, none of this” I gestured around me-meaning the manor and my wealthy life style-but also meaning my immortal life-as their daughter had been the very reason I still stood here. “would be here.”

(y/n) hummed, her eyes drawing to her father's portrait before she took a step back, smiling up at me. “these are all beautiful” she muttered, taking another good look at each portrait before taking my hand again “is there anything else you wish to show me?” I hummed, squeezing her fingers as I began to lead her back out to the main hall, leading her up the stairs.

Most of the 2nd floor were guest rooms and the family suites, but there were a few rooms of interest; such as the game room, the smoking room, and the music room, filled with various instruments that I hadn't learned to play. Other than the piano-but then I really didn’t play it much nowadays. We had passed up the upstairs lounge since that’s where the Alexanders were having their reunion.

“you must be so bored every day.” (y/n) teased, leaning on the rails with me as I rolled my eyes fondly. “I mean-there’s like, nothing to do~!” I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as (y/n) giggled away, still holding the book and flower in her hands.

“yeah, thankfully I do have lord of the manor stuff to keep me entertained.” I hummed, giving (y/n) a soft grin as she continued to laugh, then her smile turned curious, glancing back at the music room before turning back to me. “You said you play the piano, right?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. I nodded, leaning off the rails and shoving my hands in my pockets, smiling as (y/n) shrugged towards the music room. “Do you think you could show me?”

I nodded with a grin, leading her back into the room and taking a seat at the piano that was at least a century old now. “It’s beautiful,” (y/n) whispered as she ran her fingers against the top edge, looking back at me as I began to play, starting with some warm-ups since I really hadn't played in a while.

“I haven’t played in a while so forgive me if I hit the wrong key,” I said with an almost nervous chuckle, hoping she liked how I played…and if she would remember what I planned to play. It had been such a dear song to her-one her mother sang before her unfortunate death. (y/n) just shook her head, giving me a soft smile as she rested her elbows on the edge of the piano. “You aren’t performing for a judge, just play what you like,” I nodded, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves and pressing my fingers to those ivory keys, the familiar melody I had worked hard to perfect floating through the room.

(y/n) stopped breathing, and I glanced up at her as her eyes filled with tears, her hand drawing up to her necklace. “I know this,” she whispered, I just hummed-pretending I hadn't heard her as I continued to play. She remembered this-her mother's song. I held back a watery smile as (y/n) began to sing, those familiar lyrics I hadn't heard from her in so long.

I remembered she used to sing it to me while I worked, or was sick; her soft voice soothing the aches in my body as I let myself be tucked away in her arms. I felt tears in my eyes as she continued to sing, her voice something I never thought I would hear ever again. “call up your men, dilly dilly, set them to work. some to the plough, dilly dilly, some to the fork. Some to make hay, dilly dilly, some to cut corn. While you and I, dilly dilly, keep ourselves warm.”

Her voice was as soft and beautiful as I remembered it, like cresting snow on a fresh winter's eve, like mourning doves on a summer morning, like soft windchimes on a windy day. Oh how I had missed her, I had missed her so much.

As she softly sang the last verse, I joined in, my voice a bit rough from underuse-I wasn’t much of a singer, (y/n) had always said I had a good voice, but I didn’t like singing all that much-I preferred to hear (y/n) sing. “Lavenders green, dilly dilly, lavenders blue, you must love me, dilly dilly, for I love you.” I swallowed harshly as I pulled away from the keys, looking up to see (y/n) in tears, the necklace clutched tightly in her hand.

I stood, stepping around the piano and getting close to her. “You remember that?” I asked, my hands hovering over her shoulders, wanting to hug her so all her pain would disappear. “It-it was my mother’s song,” she whispered, fiddling with the gem of the necklace “and-I sang it to him when we were kids-and when he would be stuck in his study…I’m sorry, fuck I’m such a mess.” Tears streamed down her cheeks and I quickly opened my arms, inviting her for a hug-to which she easily tipped into my arms and sobbed into my chest. I held her close-rubbing the back of her head with my thumb as I squeezed her gently. “it’s okay, I-I don’t really understand but it must be intense to remember things you never even thought you had. I’m-I’m just glad they seem to be good memories.” I muttered, smiling softly as (y/n) nodded against my shoulder, sniffing as she cuddled into me.

I held her for a bit longer, pushing my cheek against her head-closing my eyes as I let myself fall into the belief that I held her as my own-as my darling (y/n), and not as the girl who hardly knew her place in my life-as if she wasn’t my entire universe. “Can-can you play another?” (y/n) asked after a few quiet moments and I nodded, pulling back and cupping her face to make sure she was okay. I gently wiped a tear from her chin and sat back down at the piano, playing a piece she wouldn't know since I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

As she relaxed my mind wandered. What would be too much? What would be too little? What was the line in the sand for her memories? Something as simple as a hand gesture from me had brought something back, yet the visage of her parents hadn't.

Maybe the portraits had been too much for her brain-and it protected her from remembering too much in such a short time. And yet she remembered my father and older sister, one of which was an unfinished portrait. I was thrown from my thoughts as I realized one of the keys was soundless, I continued to press it as I stood-examining the wires that connected to each key.

“The one you’re trying to play is missing,” (y/n) muttered, pointing out the missing wire-the one Emmaline had used to decapitate herself not so long ago. I cursed under my breath; I was sure that would’ve been replaced by now-the rail she had used as an anchor had yet to be repaired as well. It had been over 50 years now, practically 100 since her death-and yet my staff had yet to repair or replace things so easily replaceable.

I sucked at my teeth, forcing away my frustration as I locked eyes with (y/n), standing and giving her an apologetic smile. “Apologies, it seems I won’t be able to play my full performance,” I gave her a mock bow, smiling as she laughed, shaking her head as I stood to my full height. “That’s fine, thank you for playing.” She said as she made her way towards the door, I followed her; bowing my head again.

“Of course, it was my pleasure.” My head felt light as she smiled at me over her shoulder, holding the book and flower close to her chest as I closed the door behind me, hands in my pockets as I followed her lead down the hall. “Well, that would conclude our tour, minus the family suites and my bedroom, but I think that would be a bit inappropriate.” She laughed and nodded, agreeing with the notion that-yeah it would be weird to show her rooms that other people were staying in.

“Yeah, pushing on privacy, I’ve already seen Evie’s room through,” (y/n) mumbled, our eyes flickering to the clock as it rang. It was exactly 12pm. Damn-time had gone by so quickly, but wasn’t that always the case when you were having fun? “Wow it’s already noon?” (y/n) muttered to herself, looking up at me as I took the small of her back, pushing her towards the upstairs lounge.

“I believe it’s time for lunch, come, let us join the Alexader’s.” (y/n) nodded, leaning into me as I led the way to the lounge, pushing open the door and letting (y/n) inside first, smiling as she bee-lined it to Evie; who looked just as happy to see (y/n) as she did. “(y/n)!” Evie cheered, holding out her arms for a hug-to which (y/n) happily indulged in, stealing Evie’s glass and taking a sip before Evie stole it back.

“How was your tour?” Evie whispered to (y/n) in a knowingly teasing voice, and it made me wonder how much Evie know, how much she had figured out. She couldn’t know I was Harrison-but she clearly had the inkling of my true feelings for (y/n). (y/n) just huffed gently at Evie, leaning her head on Evie’s shoulder as Alfred spoke up-and the way he spoke made me want to claw out his other eye.

“so this must be the infamous (y/n)? I’ve heard you’ve kept the lord company for the last few hours.” he hummed, his only eye directly on (y/n), his voice suggesting that (y/n) was nothing but a woman to satisfy me, like she was a common whore. All the other Alexander were staring at her as well, and not in curiosity, but animosity. They didn’t like her-and I had a feeling why. They didn’t like I wasn’t paying attention to Evie, the woman who had been brought here for the contract-and yet I look to a girl who none of them recognized girl none of them knew had a very strong connection to me.

I held back a snarl-my eyes on Alfred. I could feel how uncomfortable (y/n) was, the feeling creeping up my neck and making me want to bear my fangs and claws, to tuck her away in my arms and destroy what had shamed her. “i-I suppose?” (y/n) muttered out, nearly hiding her face in Evie’s neck, Evie curling her arm protectively around (y/n) and glaring back at them-clearly feeling the same energy I was. “he-he invited me to breakfast, then he gave me a tour, it’s-it’s more like he kept me company.”

Fuck this. I wasn’t going to just stand here and let them leer at her. It was lunch anyway-and I did have one planned out for us, one that included Evie-since I would have to make some sort of effort with her to not arouse suspicion. “Evie,” I said suddenly, shocking everyone out of their stupor, Evie and (y/n) looked at me, (y/n) nearly looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Like hell.

“would you like to join me for lunch?” I asked her, hoping she would easily get the hint as I glanced between (y/n) and the Alexander family. she nodded, easily catching my hastily thrown idea and gently grabbing (y/n)’s hand to lead her to lunch “I would love to,” Evie said, passing by me and nodding as I told her where it was, and that (y/n) knew the way.

(y/n) glanced back at me and the room, her shoulders rising as she caught Oliver’s eye, who glared back at her full of near hate. Oh well, I just couldn’t have that? Could I? I checked no maids were in the room before turning back on the family, letting my eyes flash and my fangs show. A low warning growl settled in my chest-one not too far from my true forms growl-but that one could shake a castle, this one was low and snarling-a stalking sensation almost. “I will say this once, and only once. Disrespect Ms. (y/n) again and I will destroy all that you have. If you even think about her in such a way, I will know. So mark my words. Respect her or face my wrath.”

I reveled in the fear I felt from all of them, the unexpected whirl around I had on them. They clearly did not sense the same fondness Evie had felt from me for (y/n), they clearly had decided their brains were to be left at home if they treated my darling (y/n) in such a way.

If I were a crueler man, I would’ve killed one of them-just to make a point, or take Alfred’s other eye. But (y/n) had always been a good influence on me, and it was fortunate for the Alexader’s that she still was. It was unfortunate for them that Oliver decided to speak. “But-but who is she, my lord? What does she have that Evie doesn’t?” his mouth snapped shut as I turned to glare directly at him, feeling a heat begin to boil in my chest. “And-and who is Harrison? I-we weren’t aware you had a brother?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, foolish fucking mortals. I couldn’t blame Evie for talking about my supposed brother(one that never existed), but for Oliver to gain the courage-nay-the stupidity to bring it up as laughable.

I just turned on my heel, leaving the family with one final warning and no explanation. “As I said, disrespect (y/n), and you will all fall.” I practically slammed the door behind me-straightening my hair and making my way out to the patio.

They were damn lucky I preferred spending time with (y/n) than making sure they knew their place.

-end of p3-

yeeeee p3 babes, this one was a long one~ and has way more content than the (y/n) pov from p4 XD p4 of ouad was about 11 pages, this ones 26 XD

taglist~!

@sessediz @reallystressedhoneybee @reallysparklychaos @taetae123094

#walter deville x reader #walter deville #the invitation 2022 #ouad #once upon a december #days in the sun

[netmomplus]

Touhou Ship Week 2023 Day 6: Conflict

The moment that Sannyo walked through the door that night, Misumaru knew the ensuing conversation was going to be deeply awkward. The fact of the matter was that both women loved each other rather dearly, being on the older side by Gensokyo’s standards meant they had a lot in common and enjoyed talking to each other more than anything. They’d even moved in together recently, which was not something either of them had taken lightly. So what was the issue?

It was that damn cave. The Rainbow Dragon Cave, the place where dragon gems were harvested to create ability cards. Those gems were a resource far older than Gensokyo itself; in fact, they were instrumental in the creation of magatama, a fairly potent artifact that could copy a portion of a portion’s soul for safekeeping, whether it be their memories, feelings, or even their powers. Misumaru thought this power wasn’t something to be trifled with, and yet those in charge of the market were doing just that, trifling. Sure, she’d participated in the market once, but she had a very clear purpose; she was investigating. And now that she was done, she wanted no part in it.

Sannyo, meanwhile, didn’t really mind that these caves were being stripped of an ancient, powerful resource just to give cheap paper powers. Rather, she saw the card trade as a whole to be an incredible boon for the region where she lived and worked, improving the economy twice over. And she wasn’t sure whether that would be the case if those cards didn’t have some semblance of power to them; after all, folks in Gensokyo tended to be rather obsessed with their own ability to beat someone in a one-on-one fight, so cashing in on that just made sense in her eyes.

Needless to say, the couple were at an impasse on the topic, and neither seemed willing to budge. They were able to get past it relatively well enough by just not talking about it with each other, though now that Sannyo was walking in with a new set of ability cards and a small sack of money, Misumaru figured it would only be a matter of time before she slipped up, said something stupid, and caused another conversation over it. She was going to try to focus on anything else in the meantime, better than another one of those conversations.

“Good evening, Misumaru,” Sannyo said with a light groan as she walked over to their kitchen. “How’s your day been going?”

“Rather… swell,” the God responded, her voice slightly strained. “Is something amiss?”

“Not currently. I just had a rough day of work.” Sannyo leaned against a wall, sighed, and reached for her tobacco pipe. “That trio of tengu got rowdy again today. I swear they have to have it out for me or something, or maybe even that tanuki friend of mine.”

“That’s the unfortunate thing about tengu society,” Misumaru responded. “Exceptionalism to a fault, I’d say. That’s just a trio who took that mentality and ran with it unquestioningly. It’s frustrating.”

“I’ll say.” Sannyo took a quick smoke. “So how has today gone for you, dear?”

“Well enough, honestly. Spent most of today catching up with my fellow deities and assorted old folks. Lot of people around here don’t exactly look their age, y’know.”

“Oh, of course, I know that well.” Sannyo half-laughed and moved to sit near Misumaru, shuffling the cards she was holding. “So tell me about how that went.”

“Hmm… well, I started it off by having a little chat with Yukari. You know of her, right? We had a simple conversation about how Reimu’s doing?”

“Reimu? The shrine maiden?”

“Yes, her. I’m regretting not having gotten involved in her life sooner, because sheesh, she is… a mess. You know how long it took me to convince her I wasn’t involved with the tengu during that whole card incident? More than a while! I think that girl gets too caught up in her own head and it leads to her getting too stubborn. She’s… what, 20 years old now? But she acts like a headstrong teenager, it’s ridiculous.”

“I mean, the difference between 20 and 19 isn’t that big, Misumaru, cut the girl some slack.”

Misumaru shrugged, sighed, and slumped in her seat. She supposed Sannyo had a point, but that didn’t mean it had to feel good to admit it. She really just wanted the best for Reimu, to see that shrine maiden who wielded one of her finest creations become the best damn shrine maiden she could be. It was just frustrating seeing her stagnate in her eyes, that was all. So what if she were a bit dramatic about it?

“But… yes, we just talked and… that was about it. We talked about Reimu like I said, about recent incidents…”

“Oh, recent incidents? Which ones?”

“Oh, you know. Mostly the…”

There was a pause. Misumaru knew exactly which incident they were talking about; it was the card incident. But unfortunately, she just walked herself right into a trap. She was gonna have to talk about this now, Sannyo could tell when she was lying; dealing with people constantly bluffing in gambling made her rather observant. All she could really do was delay it, but would that even be worth it?

“...Misumaru? Are you there?”

Damn it, Sannyo noticed. Looekd like she had no choice after all.

“...we were talking about the card incident. And how it seems to have died down since Chimata took back control of the market. Ability cards might finally start slowing down…”

“...hmm.”

Just then, Sannyo’s eyes seemed to perk open. Misumaru glanced at her in confusion; what made her so alert all of a sudden?

“Ah, that reminds me. Thank you for bringing that up, I wanted to show you something. Here, look at these cards.”

Sannyo finally held up the cards she was holding and showed them to Misumaru. The god leaned forward to look closer at them; yep, they sure looked like ability cards, though… something was up with them. They looked… cheap. Flimsy, actually.

“...what’s the issue with these?”

“Take one out. Don’t worry about damaging it.”

Misumaru obliged and picked a random one, lifting it and holding it up to her face to analyze it more closely. Indeed, it was rather cheap and flimsy, but also… powerless. This wasn’t a normal ability card at all; it was a fake. Not a single dragon gem was used in its production.

“Sannyo, this is… a fake card. Why do you have this?”

“To be entirely clear, I still disagree on the issue of the cards,” Sannyo started, “but I get how important this issue is for you. So, I’ve decided to pack it in with the real card trade and move onto the recreational, playing card trade. It’s not as much money, but… well, you being comfortable is important to me, I’m willing to give on that whole thing if it helps you sleep at night.”

Huh. That took a while to sink into Misumaru’s head. So the cards were fake, and Sannyo was… abandoning the card market. For her? That felt… odd to hear, for some reason. Maybe she was expecting something a bit more dramatic, like an actual fight; not that she wanted one, but it felt odd for their little conflict to just… end like this. Maybe even a little awkward, but…

“...really? For me, you really didn’t-”

“Hey, some extra money isn’t worth the strain in our relationship. You deserve to be happy too, don’t forget.”

“...right. Of course.” Misumaru closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and worked to regain her composure. “I thank you, Sannyo. Truly.”

“Of course. For now, I think I’m ready to head off to bed. Ready to turn in, too?”

Misumaru didn’t even need to say anything. She just nodded and stood off, and Sannyo proceeded to head off toward their shared room with the god in tow. Sheesh, even if that conversation didn’t get heated, just the thought of it was enough to stress her out. At the very least this chapter in their relationship was over and they’d be able to move onto simpler, happier topics.

Like whether Sannyo should quit smoking. That certainly won’t cause any issues.

#thshipweek #touhou #touhou project #東方project #slash #fanfic #misumaru tamatsukuri #sannyo komakusa

[amandaoftherosemire]

No, Thank You

TW: Religious trauma

So, a friend irl of mine is, once again (this happens all the time and I hate it), dealing with harassment from “Christians” and I feel feelings about it. (Btw, WWJD? Maybe not be a huge dick. Seemed like a chill guy to me when *I* read the gospels.)

There’s this funny thing that’s been happening to me for as long as I can remember. Since I was too young to read, I have been given “literature” explaining to me god’s great plan by Christians of all stripes and denominations. First, it started with my mother’s family. I can still remember the red script of the title against the oddly grained yellow book cover that said “My Book of Bible Stories” or something to that effect. It’s the McDonald’s color scheme that sticks with me, not the title, clearly. I would receive countless more books like these from that side of the family. Even though my mother, herself, had been forcibly ejected from that particular sect of Christianity, and had chosen not to return, still they sent me books, and letters, and propaganda, trying to, supposedly, save my soul.

The attempted indoctrination didn’t stop there. My parents put me in Catholic school in kindergarten, where I stayed until the school insisted that I be baptized and assigned godparents. My parents were okay with me exploring any religion I wanted, but my mother’s experience had taught her that I should be of the age of reason before I made any decisions about my religion. My mother was baptized at twelve, and she believed that was a mistake. She thought that she had been too young to know what she really believed and Young Sharon had made promises that Adult Sharon couldn’t keep. But she never prevented me from exploring such things. I went to Sunday School with a friend in third grade, went to the Wednesday afternoon bible study at the church next to the elementary school. I went to Catholic church with my best friend in middle school any time I stayed over on a Saturday night. I even tried again in high school, with some very odd evangelicals that spoke in tongues and really weirded me the fuck out.

Somehow, my little circle of girlfriends going through our obligatory weird girl Wiccan high school phase seemed less weird than the girl in the church sitting on the floor, two inches from the wall, laughing at it. At least, on some level, we knew the midsummer celebration was more about the slumber party than anything else. Jaycelyn, please stop putting your toe up my nose.

As I got older, I explored other faiths, other cultures. I dipped into Buddhism, read the Tao Te Ching to touch base with Taoism, was exposed in college to Shintoism, Hinduism, Islam. Nothing touched me. Until I read atheist writers, who told me that it was okay to not connect. That it was okay that I couldn’t believe what was being offered. That there was nothing after death, and that I could cope with that if I wanted to.

When I was young, my search through Christianity was an attempt to belong somewhere. And in this society, this culture, the easiest way to belong is to go to church. But I couldn’t belong somewhere when I was simply going through the motions, pretending to believe. After my father died, my search became more desperate, more about a search for meaning, a need to mitigate my loss.

After many years, I have come to absurdism. There is no meaning, and it is absurd to search for it. Let’s be absurd. Who cares? It’s not like anything matters so we might as well have some fun with this. For some this is bleak, empty and cold. For me it is freedom, joy and dread in equal parts. But I no longer cringe away from the parts of life that hurt. Because life is pain. And joy, and fear, and love, and, and, and…

My point? At no point did anything that anyone else did or didn’t do convince me to convert to any religion. The books, the pamphlets, the in-person visits, or the constant harassment and bullying all throughout my formative years, none of it did anything but show me what was on offer. I politely declined, because what was on offer looked sad and empty to me. A life spent longing for the next. Thank you, but no thank you. I’m grateful enough for what I have.

To be fair, the constant harassment and bullying by Christians has only made it clear to me that most of them don’t really know what their religion is even about, so I can’t learn anything about the universe or meaning from them. If you want to know why I’m not a Christian, ask yourself if you’ve ever done anything that might be considered bullying or harassment to try to shame someone into it. If that’s how you believe your god wants you to act, I want nothing to do with you or your god.

I am an absurdist agnostic atheist. If you want to know what that means, I’m happy to tell you. But if you want to offer me something else, stop. I know what you have. I do not want it. If you have it, and it brings you joy, I am genuinely happy for you and I would never want to take that away from you. Stop trying to give it to me. I. DO. NOT. WANT. IT.

I have what I need.

#tw: religious trauma #atheism #jehovah's witnesses #manda rants #personal

[cavortinginmoonlight]

It’s also the beginning of Bi Visibility Month and my sexuality is something I’ve struggled with my ENTIRE life (almost 33 years!!), the closet was my cave of safety yet depression, my shield against drama, hate, gossip and shunning. I’ve known of my sexuality before I even knew there was a name for it. And growing up first generation Caribbean with older parents, hearing homophobic rants and terms, it was safer even better there.

This time, however, it’s MY choice.

I was recently reading volume 4 of Heartstopper and it’s the one where Nick comes out to his dad, who he’s semi-estranged from. And that’s when it clicked. I teared up and thought, ‘this is beautiful’. This is eye opening.

This…is…it. When I was a teenager, my older sister 'G’ lived with us, I’ve always loved my sister, but truth is, she and I weren’t very close. One particular summer before I turned 17 and almost out of high school, I woke up to her telling me to accompany her somewhere, as we’re on our way, she tells me that she really didn’t need for me to accompany her, she just wanted to get me out of the house, because my mom (her stepmom) is PISSED at me. She continued, “she read your diary and she know you like girls and she’s wants to talk to you, and I wanted to get you out of the house so you can process this before you talk to her”

I started breathing heavily, cold sweats because I knew what was to come; I kept trying to ask her things, but she refused to answer and just told me to prepare myself. We got home. I tried to rush to my room (I had to pass my parents to get to mine) and I heard my name…"Lenii!!“ (Actually, it sounded more like "Leniiiiiiiii!!!”) Like the boom of a speaker with your ear right next to it. A chill ran through my body. I lowered my head and pretended I didn’t know what she wanted. She called me over with her finger and told me to sit down, pointing to where. I sat at the upper part of her side of the bed. She sat to my left on a chair, the door on her other side, my sister in front of me, my dad standing keeping himself busy, not caring, on the other side of the bed.

The beginning of the conversation was a blur because my fear was paramount, but she said “so, I found out that you are attracted to girls. And I want you to be honest with me because I didn’t raise you to lie….Lenii, do you like girls as more than friends?”

My jaw clenched and I looked straight at my sister and by straight, I mean I was looking in her direction but past her head to the mirror behind her. The soul had left my body.

(I’m aware I’m sounding extra dramatic, but, I’m being dead serious that’s what it felt like)

My face in the same position I shook my head just enough for her to get an answer, “Yes”. She yelled “Say it with your mouth, I’m not accepting that!” I said “Yes!!” And next thing I know I see my sister reach out and she grabbed my mother’s arm midair, and I hear her scream: “You know! We don’t do that here! Hoooowww can my own daughter…you know we don’t accept that, what the hell is wrong with you, that’s not okay!!….OH MY GOD!!” My sister, still holding her arm, said “Vee, just calm down okay, calm down…we…” and Mom replies, still screaming, “Calm down!?!? She….” and G responds with “Just calm down, this is no time to talk about this, you can talk calmly later”, the arm shifted, and I limbo'ed under it then ran to my room. And that was it. My sister caught the arm that was reading to back hand me in the face or maybe the chest. I don’t know but I shudder, even now at the thought of what would have happened if G hadn’t stepped in that very second. Choking? Hard slap, my obese mom pinning me down? Who knows.

The rest is either a suppressed memory or a blur but all it did was throw me deeper in the closet. It’s odd because I was out to my friends in high school, even dated a girl briefly there, openly flirted with girls, had celebrity crushes, hell I noticed girls BEFORE I noticed boys and that includes celebrities. I stopped dating altogether in 10th grade but had my last real crush in 11th grade. It was a boy, his name was Chris, and he’s still my friend to this day. We never dated though, but was very sweet. Over the years there’s been talk particularly with my brother about my sexuality, (I never actually told him or hinted but he’s seen my posts about my being ally and says things like’'this is why everyone thinks you’re gay stop posting s*it like this!“)

When I was 24, my mom and I were watching TV one night about 10pm and she randomly said ’'Lenii, do you still like girls?” I didn’t respond. She carried on “Because you know, you don’t date, you don’t talk about relationships, guys…or girls…and I know you don’t really have anyone to talk to about those things, but I don’t like that you just don’t date at all” (I also chose not to date because she’s always been sick and I didn’t feel right dating and not giving her 100% of my attention) And then it happened, the monumental moment in every single LGBTQIA+ person’s life: “Lenii..” she said, I turned my head, still facing the opposite way towards the TV, “I’m not going to be around forever and I don’t like that you’re all alone..” I interrupted and said “Mom I’m fine really” (I always hated her 'Im gonna die one day’ talks) “But just listen..I’m not going to be around forever and I want you to meet someone wonderful, to open your heart and just let love in, or at least try, I don’t want you to be alone cause I feel you’re gonna need someone there. So, whatever it is, guy…..or girl. It’s all okay. I just want you to know I love you and it’s all okay….okay?” My eyes welled up and after a hard gulp I nodded and said “okay” and smirked and that was it.

The next afternoon, by 2pm, She was deceased.

I still stayed deep in the closet, so deep there was no room for Christmas presents, yet I ended moving to Virgnia and was out only to a few people. (Its always been a pet peeve of mine being open to one person and then that one person tells other people like it’s their place to tell) I flirted, romanced and even briefly entertained women…and went on dates with men. And then it happened, I fell in love (hard to admit, even now), alas it was not meant to be. But no actual relationship with either. Then came Texas and dating at all wasn’t even a thought, especially with a supposed friend who would remind me that I “wasn’t the kind of person someone wanted because you were so f*cked up and had to get your shit together because no one would want you this way” (she thought I was straight, yes my 'friend’ of 12 years, had no idea) Ever since I was 17, I contemplated and even attempted suicide a few times. That’s the last thing I needed to hear. I wanted to be anything but, because I didn’t believe I deserved to be loved by ANYONE, significant other, family or friends if I wasn’t straight.

I’ve been back home since December 2021, I prefer it here, I’ll be 33 in November and it’s been about that time. I’m tired. I’m over it. It’s official. I posted on my twitter and then my personal Facebook, and my instagram, at first my FB was to only some friends, excluding family and elders I knew since my youth, like my brother’s childhood friends. But I’ve changed it to be seen by all. Mostly inspired by an eerily similar story from one of my favourite people, Raul Esparza. I’m tired. Whoever is mad, they can be mad. Whoever is confused, they can be confused. Whoever doesn’t believe it, can wallow in disbelief. I’m at peace, I’m happy, and most importantly so is my inner child and adolescent is free and baby girl, I love you more than you can ever know.

Fin.

Lenii <3

#Coming Out #Coming Out Story #Being outed #Bisexual #Bisexuality #Bi Pride #Appareils-Futiles #Me myself I and yours truly #lgbt #lgbtqai+ #bi pride month #bi pride month 2022 #LeniiNero #ThisTimeItsMyChoice #BiVisibilityMonth #NoMoreClosetsCavesCupboardsOrCabinets #FeelFreeToDeleteCauseTheLessTheMerrier 🤷‍♀️ #Raul Esparza

[premiumsockets]

FFXIVWrite Day 20: Anon

“A familiar of mine, you say?” Azem asked, intrigued.

    Their guide nodded. “Yes, it was here with Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus. I believe they visited Mistress Venat as well.”

    “How did they know it was mine, again?”

    “By the color of its soul, I imagine.” Their guide paused. “Do you mean to say that you were not aware of its activities?”     “Of course I was,” they lied. “I was just wondering.”

    Azem had seen much of Etheirys in her adventures, but there was nothing else quite like Elpis. It was a city in the sky, filled with wonders and dangers both. Thick trees blanketed the landscape, but there were open areas where gardens were cultivated, attracting flower-loving creations. There were structures built on each “island,” several serving as living quarters and administrative buildings, while others such as Peripeteia Krystalline and Ktisis Hyperboreia were academic and testing facilities. The clouds below were like a roiling sea, always churning and swirling around. The sky was always clear during the night, and astronomers traveled near and far to gaze at the shining stars, clearer than anywhere else.

    The purpose of her current trip, however, was to visit her old friend and mentor Venat. She had been the holder of the seat of Azem before them, and they were as close to her as anyone could be. This time, however, her anticipation to see Venat was tempered by confusion; the instant she had stepped onto the facility she had been informed that her familiar had been here. Which was odd, seeing as she had no familiars, and certainly none that she had sent to Elpis. Learning that this mysterious creature had met with Venat only heightened their curiosity.

    Azem and their masked guide were walking the trail leading to Venat’s living quarters when a yellow-furred creature came bounding out of the forest, jumping right onto Azem. They laughed and hugged the dog as it licked their face; It was Venat’s familiar, Argos. Their guide stood awkwardly to the side as Venat followed her companion out of the forest.

    “Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Venat called out, an amused glint in her eyes. She wore a long white robe, with a matching mask dangling from her neck. Her white hair tumbled down her shoulders, with the exception of the locks of hair that encircled her head. She gave them both a warm smile, but there was something off. The warmth didn’t quite reach her eyes, as if there was something weighing on her.

    “I thought I’d make a surprise visit,” Azem replied, Argos having abated his assault. “It’s been too long, and I've just finished my paperwork.”

    Venat laughed as she grew nearer. “Paperwork? You have changed.”

    Azem closed the gap and embraced her mentor. “Maybe so.” She drew back, still holding her by the shoulders. “How have you been?”

    Venat shooed off Azem’s guide and considered her words before answering. “I have been well, though it’s been fairly eventful around here lately.” She began to lead them back to her home, arm-in-arm. “Emet-Selch came and recruited the head of the facility to the seat of Fandaniel, so there’s been much to do preparing for the new management.”

    “And you’ve been helping, of course. Can’t just enjoy your retirement, can you?” Azem joked. Venat smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes again. Before they could ask what was wrong, they arrived.

    “Here we are,” Venat said as they entered. She turned to Azem. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

    “Tea would be perfect, thank you,” she answered. As the older woman turned to make it, Azem asked the most pressing question on her mind. “So, Venat, I heard there was a familiar of mine wandering the facility?”

    Venat paused ever so slightly as she filled the teapot. “Ah, so you heard about that.”

    “Yes, and I’m confused because as far as I know, I do not have a familiar,” they said in a jovial tone.

    “I see why you would be confused, but I honestly don’t know where she came from.”

    Azem’s ears perked up. “‘She?’”

    Venat sighed. “Yes, ‘she.’ She was wandering the islands, and I offered to show her around. I thought that she was your familiar because the color of her soul was so much like yours. I suppose I was mistaken, if you don’t-”

    “Venat. I know when you’re lying to me.” Azem’s gaze was even and free of malice, but it unnerved Venat nonetheless. “I heard that she came here with Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus. It is unlikely that a random familiar just so happened to be in such important company, not to mention it contradicts what you’ve already said.” They sat at the table and beckoned their mentor to join them. “What really happened?”

    Venat sank into the chair, tea forgotten. She had been hoping that Azem wouldn’t ask her about the mysterious familiar. How was she supposed to explain? She could not risk revealing the entirety of what she knew at the risk of changing the fate of the planet. Finally, she decided on what to say.

    “The world is going to end soon.” She held up a hand before Azem could say anything. “Do not ask me how I know that. And do not ask Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus; they will not remember and it will only raise further questions. The best way is for as few people as possible to know this information. Do you understand?”

    Azem frowned. “I don’t see how this has anything to do with the familiar.”

    “Do you understand?”

    They blinked in surprise at Venat’s intensity. This was important. “Yes. I’ll not repeat what you tell me, nor ask others about it.”

    Venat relaxed slightly. “Good. Now listen…”

#FFxivWrite #FFxivWrite2022 #FFxiv #azem #venat #endwalker #elpis

[kuai-liangst]

Lost Snow Child Chapter Twenty Two

Summary: A new character is introduced, and Allison finds out that she has a boyfriend now.

Alright, so heads up. Shui is not mine. Shui belongs to my friend @daughterofnero. Not me.

I repeat. Shui does NOT belong to me.

I would also like to thank @daughterofnero and @mcbethins for supporting me while I was writing this fic. It was their support that helped me stay inspired enough to do so. I would also like to thank @michael-young-history who encouraged me to post this fic on tumblr after posting it all on Ao3.

“Are Tomas and Kuai Liang ok?” Liu Kang asks as he helps Allison clean up the last of the vase.

Allison hums, “I think so. Cole would have mentioned if they were hurt, and Bi-Han wouldn’t have been so calm if either of the children were hurt.”

Emily nods, “I didn’t see any cuts on their hands when I pulled them away from the shards. Why did they try to grab them with their bare hands?”

“It’s faster than trying to find a broom and dustpan. They were likely going to try and hide the evidence.” Liu Kang tells them, “I did the same as a child, and so has Shui in the few occasions he’s broken something.”

Allison looks at him, confused. “Who’s Shui?”

“Our son,” Liu Kang says with pride as he gestures for someone to come over. A small boy runs over to them. “Allison, this is Liu Kung Shui. My and Kung Lao’s adopted son.”

“Liu Kung?” Allison asks as she takes in the shy boy hiding behind Liu Kang’s leg.

Liu Kang sighs, “I forgot you are an American. Our last names come first generally. My last name is Liu, and Kung Lao’s last name is Kung.”

That made sense. The boy looks at her with sharp, skeptical eyes, “Would you like to play with Kuai Liang and Tomas?”

The boys needed friends their age, and Allison has a feeling that Shui would be more understanding than most children the boys’ age.

Shui quietly nods. His long hair reminds her of Kung Lao. “I wouldn’t mind.” The boy quietly says, “Ba Lao says I can stay in the temple for a while.”

“We will probably stay in the temple for a while as well,” Allison tells him as she’s reminded of how they don’t have an apartment anymore.

Liu Kang smiles at her as the boy nods and runs off. Liu Kang smiles softly as he looks to where Shui ran off to. “He’s a good child. He went through…similar circumstances to my own and is very fond of a-Lao.”

Allison nods. A familiar dark feeling burrows its way into her chest. “The people who hurt him?”

“Dead, by my hand.” Liu Kang reassures her, “What did you want to talk about?”

She sighs, “I…feel useless. My husband and Kuai Liang were hurt, and there was nothing I could do.”

“I understand,” Liu Kang reassures. “Before Bi-Han appeared, Kung Lao almost lost his soul to Shang Tsung. Had it not been for Hasashi, I would have had to watch as Lao wither before my eyes.”

Liu Kang takes a deep breath, “Shui is…very anxious. He adores Kung Lao, and how my Shi Xiong almost died….he is reluctant to stray too far from him.”

Allison can understand. She remembers having to watch as Raiden and Tomas rescue Kuai Liang’s soul. He remembers Kuai Liang being thrown into a wall and then sobbing out that he was in pain.

She wishes she could do something, anything.

Before she can say anything else, Cole and Bi-Han come back to the room without Kuai Liang and Tomas.

‘

“Hey, Dad, Kuai Liang, and Tomas are already asleep?” Emily asks, breaking her silence.

Allison feels terrible that she forgot that Emily was in the room still. She’s such a good girl, barely complaining about the situation.

Cole nods, and Allison notices Bi-Han glancing at her with a red face. His beautiful eyes flickered from Cole to her.

“He said yes,” Cole says with a smirk like a cat that got the cream.

Allison tries to figure out what Bi-Han would have said yes to. She draws a blank. “What to?”

Cole wraps one of his arms around Bi-Han’s waist. The older man turns even redder. “I asked him out. He said yes.”

“Cole! I thought we agreed to ask him out together.” She scolds. She didn’t want Bi-Han to think he was only some booty call or that they weren’t interested in any long-term relationship.

Bi-Han softly coughs as Liu Kang gently escorts Emily out of the room. “I…don’t know why or how you two could overlook what I’ve done or what I am. But…I promise I’ll make sure I’m worthy of your attention.”

It breaks her heart to hear that. She shakes her head, “You don’t need to earn our affection. A relationship is more than that. We want to make you happy, and so far…ever since we’ve met you, it’s been a ride, but I see someone we want to spend the rest of our lives with.”

Bi-Han bites his lip and smiles, “I’ll make sure that’s a long time.” He promises as he reaches out towards her face.

She gently takes his hand, “May I have this kiss my avalanche?” She asks sofly as she cups his cheek.

“I can’t believe this is real,” He says with awe as he looks at her with disbelief.

She pulls him in for a quick kiss that ends just as quickly. “Does that help?”

“Maybe another one, just to make sure.” Bi-Han tells her. He gets a kiss from Cole as a result.

It’s criminal how hot seeing her husband and their boyfriend kiss.

They’re going to have to take it slow, but Allison swears that the two of them are going to make Bi-Han understand and feel how much they love him.

No matter how long it takes.

#OC #sub-zero #bi han #allison young #cole young #emily young #liu kang

[uroborosymphony]

Who killed Honey?

june, friday 10th. 4pm. At the Red Line, Kabukicho, Tokyo.

The fever from last night has not left the atmosphere. It scattered and sank through the golden and the black of the walls. My first performance, my first stage on unknown lands is for me the way to mark a territory. The eyes landing were not expecting a lioness aiming for the hunt. And the red line girls, the escorts, they look at me differently now. It’s envy. The ugliest of the seven sins yet one that brings the shadow of a smirk to the red of my lips. In the afternoon, the Red Line feels different than in the night. It is still open but not to the public. The girls are getting ready downstairs, dressed, powdered, helping each other out to fit their designer dresses gifted by the men they usually take care of. I’m watching them as I’m sitting down the couch, the one made of red velvet on the balcony, sipping on my glass of chardonnay. There’s hierarchy : the older girls, the most experienced ones are wearing the most expensive dresses, Dolce, Versace, they are at the top of the pyramid, always by the side of the important men that stand in the shadow. Meanwhile the younger ones fill the gaps, serve the henchmen and even run errands for the main girls. It’s fascinating to watch. A queenless hive. Bees controled by men. 

I stand up. My long black dress following my steps as I stand by the railing, as my lipstick keeps on tainting the clear of the glass like blood. My golden heels hit the ground and I climb down the stairs, slowly, one by one.

There are frames on the wall, pictures of the golden nights of the Red Line. A little sepia, a little black and white. Like a wall of glory that belongs to another time. My fingers explore the frames. Years are written along with titles to each photography. In a place that holds all the sins a human soul can feast upon, there is a red thread, history. History made by souls that here, are somebody yet nobody. Aliases and tragic stories of the world of the night. There a couple pictures of the stage before it was mine. The Red Line is known for its shows in the neighborhood, it’s one of its assets. The money earned on nights with shows is doubled compared to any other day. In the end, I am surprised myself they chose me - anybody trying to sing in this crazy area would want the Red Line stage. My eyes linger on one picture, one that features a singer under the spotlight. She is beautiful. Black long hair cascading down her exposed shoulders, a red dress embracing her shape, golden heels to follow each one of her moves. Gracious, Ethereal. She looks timeless, captured on that wall. I narrow my eyes as the written year says “2022″ - this was taken recently then? The title of the photography says Honey. 

Honey. Honey. Honey.

The word travel through the pages of my mind.

Flashbacks of last night are making their way back to me. After my show, an entire bottle of champagne in one hand, i was celebrating, in a middle of a pool of a loving souls that came to celebrate with me. My loves, my friends. Clients were passing by, resting a hand over my shoulder, a large smile on their lips. Men. Older men. Who in a way, probably thought they could own me simply by the gaze they had on me all night. 

Congratulations Honey. You did well, Honey. 

That’s what they said to me. That’s how they called me. A nickname, a petname i first thought - like one would call ‘darling’ or ‘baby’, I was ‘honey’ last night. But the woman on the picture is... too. The curl of the strands of her hair reminds me of mine. The shape of her eyes, too.

“Are you coming?” 

A voice from above my shoulder calls me back to reality. It’s one of the girls, the only one who’s talking to me, the one I met right before I started working here. “We’re going to run errands for Onee, are you coming with us?” I am barely paying attention to whatever she’s inviting me to yet I realize she is being nice by offering me to spend time with her and the girls - as the singer, I am obviously not included in their circle of gossips and scheming. “Who is she?” I ask, pointing at the woman on the frame. The photography I’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes. “Was she a singer here?”  I question.

“Honey? Nobody told you about her?” She questions in return, her eye brow lightly rising. “She was ths singer before you, she killed herself last month.” She then added with a voice that didn’t hold no emotion whatsoever. To the line, my eyes widen slightly. “What happened to her? Why would she kill herself?” I immediatly asked, my tone laced with surprise and concern. “It happens a lot around here you know. Everyone loved Honey, the clients, the bosses. She was close to us at the beginning and then she was not. Always talking to the higher ups, invited to the top floors to eat with them, she became a Queen and we were dirt under her shoe. Some say it was all a mask, that she wasn’t all alright in the head, that she was seeing things, losing her marbles every day. Others say that she killed someone. Or that she had debts her own life couldn’t make up for. So she jumped.” 

My eyes weren’t leaving hers as she was telling me the story of Honey. Something deeply cold, the absence of emotions she was displaying was icing my blood. As if, in the end, here, a life couldn’t matter less.

“So, you coming or na?” She then asked again, losing patience. The switch disturbed me. 

“I’m good. I will head back home. You girls have fun.” I simply answered as she nodded and half wished me a good day. She walked down back to the other girls who were gathering their Vivienne purses to head outside. I remained on my spot, my eyes fixated on the frame of Honey on a night of glory, the thought of her lifeless body found in the morning on the wet tarmac.

#main verse ⚕ The Songstress. #chapter one ⚕ The serpent biting its own tail. #solo para.