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itsadamcole · 3 years

Text

handsome stranger

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

Drew has just moved next door to the reader and noticed her sitting in the window alone on Christmas Eve watching the snow fall ... "hi, i couldn't help but notice you were alone."

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: soft smut, some fluff, cute moments, idrk what else

— day fourrr. i’m doing good and trying my best here to get one christmas / holiday / winter themed imagine up everyday. feel free to send in any requests if you want one written —

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~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You sit on the little window sill in your living room, holding a mug of hot chocolate in your hand. You watch as the snow falls from the sky.

Snow is so beautiful. Especially the fluffy white kind. It makes everything shimmer and sparkle, and it's the only thing that makes the holiday season bearable.

Your knees are pulled up to your chest and your arms are wrapped around your knees. You're wearing your comfortable Christmas pajamas, considering it is Christmas Eve.

Christmas music plays in the background as you remember the times you spent dancing with your fiancée in the living room, lit only by the fireplace. Now, you sit alone, with the only light coming from the fireplace.

It's been three years since he left, but it hurts knowing that you spent seven Christmases and seven New Years with him just for him to leave you for someone he met at the gym.

You watch as a silhouette walks alone in the snow on the sidewalk outside of your house. The silhouette stops at the stairs leading up to your house.

The silhouette walks up the stairs and as it gets closer, you realize that it's about six foot five with jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie. You get up when the doorbell to your house rings.

After setting the mug of hot chocolate down on the coffee table, you walk to the front door. You open it, revealing a very handsome stranger. He says, "Hi, I couldn't help but notice ya were alone."

He has an accent but you can't put a finger on where it could be from. You lean against the door as you try to figure out what kind of accent he has and say, "It's not unusual."

"No one should be alone on Christmas," the handsome stranger says.

You blink and say, "You're alone on Christmas. Well, you were walking alone, anyway."

He laughs a little bit and says, "That I was. I like the snow. It's peaceful and reminds me a lot about Scotland."

That accent did sound a lot like a Scottish accent but you weren't sure. It has an American twist to it though.

"Scotland," you echo. "You're a little far from home."

The handsome stranger nods and says, "I am. I just moved in, right over there." He points to the house right next to yours. "I can't afford to fly back home this year because I just bought the house so I am also alone this Christmas."

You look back at your empty house and say, "I just made hot chocolate if you'd like to come in. Maybe we don't actually have to be alone this Christmas. It'd be a nice change actually." You move to the side.

He flashes you a kind smile and walks into the house. You close the door, rubbing your arms to warm them up. You walk back into the kitchen, pouring a mug of hot chocolate for your guest. "Would you like marshmallows or whipped cream?" you ask.

"Whipped cream sounds nice," he says. "Thank ya." You nod and put some whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate in the mug. You offer him the mug and he takes a sip.

The hot chocolate is more lukewarm than hot so he won't burn his tongue.

After he sips the hot chocolate, he has whipped cream in his mustache and on his nose. You giggle a bit and say, "Um, you have whipped cream on your nose."

"Oh," he says. "Do I?"

You smile and say, "Here. Let me get it." You grab a clean cloth off the counter and wipe away the whipped cream. "There. It's gone now."

The handsome stranger smiles down at you and says, "Thank ya."

You put the cloth down and give him a little nod before leaving the kitchen and walking into the living room to grab your mug. The nameless but handsome stranger follows you.

"I never caught your name," you point out as you turn to face him.

He laughs softly before saying, "I never threw it, but it's Drew. Drew McIntyre."

You smile and say, "Y/N L/N. How long have you lived here? I can tell you have an American accent mixed with the Scottish accent."

Drew sips his hot chocolate and says, "I've lived here off and on since the better part of thirteen years or so, since 2007."

You've sat down on the couch by this point. Drew joins you as you ask, "What do you do that keeps you in America?"

Hesitantly, he says, "I'm a professional wrestler for WWE. I'm actually WWE Champion right now."

"WWE," you echo. "My brother has always wanted to wrestle for WWE and has gone to every tryout but never got signed. He's in Ring of Honor and PWG right now. I've never been into wrestling. I'm more of a softball person. I played in college."

Drew says, "Maybe I get help get yer brother through the door in WWE. I might be able to get him signed to at least NXT but he's gotta prove himself."

You smile and say, "You'd do that for him?"

The handsome stranger nods as he takes another sip of his drink. "Yeah," he says. "I'd like to see him wrestle though so I know that he can actually wrestle."

"He'd love that," you say. "Thank you. I'll call him tomorrow."

Drew nods and says, "Of course."

You smile and take another sip of your hot chocolate.

It's quiet for a few moments before Drew asks, "What do ya do? Like work-wise."

"I'm a fashion designer," you say. "For Gucci. It's a job that I love and it's kept me sane in the past few years. I'd like to open my own shop one day."

He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and says, "That sounds like a lot of fun. Ya must have a very creative mind in that pretty head of yers."

Your face heats up a bit and you say, "Yeah, you can say that." You let out a light laugh. "I try to be creative, anyway."

Drew looks at you for a second before an idea pops into his head and he asks, "Would ya like to design some new ring fer me? I've been needing some new gear and have never really found anyone that I'd trust enough to design some new gear."

You raise your eyebrows at the Scot and say, "You just met me and have already offered to help my brother get into WWE and now you're asking me to help design new ring gear for you? I don't know you well enough to design gear for you."

The handsome stranger says, "It's just an offer. Ya don't have to take it."

"I'd love to but I'd like to get to know you a little bit more before I design anything," you say.

He smiles and says, "I can agree with that. We have all night."

You smile and echo, "All night."

Honestly, you don't mind spending all night with Drew. All night with Drew is better than being alone. Especially on Christmas.

The two of you sip hot chocolate for hours. He explains his journey to the WWE, getting fired then working his way back to WWE, becoming NXT Champion and eventually WWE Champion. It's a long journey but his hard work paid off in the end.

You explain how you got into designing and everything. You always were into fashion and clothes. You majored in fashion design in college while minoring in business and accounting. You omit the part about having a fiancée and him leaving you three years ago.

Drew listens to every word you say and you answer every question he has. You do the same to him, and he answers every question you have for him.

After about two hours of sitting and talking, Drew asks the question you've been dreading.

"What made ya end up alone on Christmas? Don't ya have family?" he asks.

You sigh and say, "I lost both my parents when I was in college in an accident. I have no aunts or uncles or cousins. I have my brother but he's married with kids. I had a fiancée but he left three years ago so I've kind of just been alone on Christmas since."

He waits until you're done talking to say anything.

Once you've said all that you want to, Drew says, "Ya have just been through the wringer, haven't ya?"

You scoff a bit and say, "Through the wringer is an understatement."

Drew asks, "What can I do to help? I can't imagine how ya feel with it being Christmas and ya sitting here alone in this house."

You stare at Drew and say, "You want to help me?"

The handsome stranger nods and says, "Name it and I'll make it happen."

You think for a moment before you say, "Show me some of your matches. I want to see you wrestle. Distract me."

He smiles and pulls up one of his matches on his phone. You move closer to him so you can see easier. It's from Wrestlemania 36. Night two.

"This was when I won my title for the first time," he explains as both his and his opponent's entrances are made. "It's my favorite and the most important match of my career."

You watch as he wins the match and the title in about five minutes. You're a little distracted by the fact that he's wearing practically nothing.

Drew looks at you occasionally as you watch to see your eyes fixated on him on the screen, almost watching in awe. He smiles a bit.

Once the Wrestlemania match is over, he puts on the Royal Rumble match. You ask, "What's this match?"

"It's the match I had to win to face the WWE Champion at the time at Wrestlemania," he explains as it starts. "If I won, which I did, then I can challenge whichever champion I'd like. I chose Brock Lesnar and the WWE Championship."

You watch the long match. When Drew enters, you find yourself biting your lip. You can't help it. He's attractive when he's in the ring. He's attractive just sitting in a hoodie and jeans beside you.

Around entry number 25, you look up at Drew. He's looking down at you.

"You should show me some of these moves one day," you say quietly. His face is close to yours because of how close you are sitting to him.

He smiles a bit and asks, "Which ones?"

You meet his eyes and say, "The ones where you'd pin me to something." Drew's tongue swipes across his bottom lip.

Your heart rate has picked up as you get closer and closer to kissing the handsome stranger.

Drew's voice drops a tone and says, "Now, now, Miss L/N. We've only just met."

He just got a thousand times more attractive by doing that with his voice. Not to mention he's the most selfless human you've ever met. He's obviously very kind. He saw you were alone and offered to spend all night with you.

All this has happened in a span of three or four hours.

You tilt your head up and say, "I said to distract me." You bite your bottom lip gently.

"That's very true," he says, putting his phone down. The eye contact continues.

Drew licks his bottom lip again as the tension continues to build between the two of you. Your heart continues to race in your chest.

You have no idea what's about to happen but it's been three years since you've been this close to anyone. You won't mind whatever comes next.

Your voice has almost dropped to a whisper. "So," you say. "How about showing me some of these moves?"

Drew gives a little smirk before, in one swift movement, he gets you on your back. He's straddling your waist and pinning your wrists to the couch. You stare at him with wide eyes.

"Woah," you gasp.

He laughs a bit and says, "Ya did ask me to show ya some of the moves where I pin ya."

You say, "Mhm. I did ask you to do that."

Drew smiles and gets off of you. You sit up and face him.

An idea pops into your head and you literally pounce on Drew, pinning him on his back on the couch. You know he could very easily flip you over so you try to put all your weight onto him. All 130 pounds of you.

"Hm," he says. "Not too bad."

You giggle and say, "My brother did practice on me a little bit. Just a little bit."

He smiles and says, "I know a move that he definitely didn't practice on ya."

You raise your eyebrows and ask, "What would that be?"

Drew leans up and kisses you. You gasp a little bit before kissing him back.

As you share the kiss with Drew, he rolls so he's pinning you to the couch again. You stare up at him, pouting. "That's not fair," you whine. "I was distracted."

He laughs and says, "Ya told me to distract ya."

You pout some more as Drew looks down at you. "You can't just kiss someone then pin them to the couch," you say.

The kiss was something you haven't experienced since your fiancée left. Yes, you've kissed people since your fiancée said goodbye but none of those kisses felt like the kiss you just shared with Drew.

Speaking of Drew, he sits up and pulls you up with him. You throw your legs across his lap and look at him.

"Can I kiss ya again?" he asks. "So I can make it up to ya?"

You say, "You don't have to ask to kiss me, Drew."

Drew's lips come down to yours. The kiss is as soft and as slow as it was before. Hesitantly, you put your hands on his face, cupping his cheek.

That's when you feel the soft ache in your core from Drew pinning you to the couch. It was so hot. You could barely contain yourself when he pinned you not once but twice to the couch.

One of Drew's hands rests on your thigh extremely close to your core. You take his hand and pull back from the kiss. You both look at his hand in yours before you move his hand so it's resting on your core.

Hopefully, the handsome stranger can't feel how wet you are for him over your pajama pants.

"What do ya want, Y/N?" he asks softly, his accent thick. "Tell me what ya want."

You meet his eyes and say, "I want you to kiss me, touch me. I want you."

That's all Drew needs to hear before he pulls you onto his lap. You straddle his thighs and your lips are on his. You gently grind against him, a soft groan escaping his lips into your mouth.

Your hands snake up the front of Drew's hoodie. You find he's wearing just the hoodie on his upper body. You can feel his toned stomach and hairy chest. You run your fingers down his chest before you decide to pull off his hoodie.

Drew helps you pull off the piece of clothing. As soon as it's off, you press kisses to his neck and chest. His fingers run through your hair.

His fingers have found their way up the back of your shirt, pushing the fabric up. Nervously, you pull off your pajama shirt, fully exposing your upper body to Drew.

You watch as his tongue swipes across his bottom lip as he eyes your naked upper body.

This is very nerve-wracking. You haven't been with anyone since your fiancé left. This is the first time you've even been half-naked around anyone else.

Drew sees your hands begin to shake and he takes them in his. "We don't have to do anything, Y/N," he says, meeting your eyes.

"No I want to," you say, sighing. "It's just, I haven't been with anyone like this in years. It's making me nervous."

He smiles at you and says, "Ya don't have to be nervous, Y/N. I don't bite unless ya ask of course."

Smiling, you say, "I might just take you up on that." Your nerves begin to wash away as Drew leans up, kissing you passionately. His hands are on your bare lower back, pushing you into him and holding you there.

"Drew," you mumble. "Let's not make a mess on my cushions."

He pulls back and asks, "Take this upstairs?"

You nod. He picks you up as he stands up. You giggle and wraps your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You leave soft kisses on his chest as he carries you upstairs.

Drew asks, "Which room?"

You look behind you and say, "The door at the end of the hallway. That's my room."

He walks quickly to your room before he walks in, quickly but carefully dropping you on the bed. You sit up and start to undo his belt and the button on his jeans before you pull the jeans down.

Drew is straining against his boxer shorts. You look up at him with your eyes before you trace his erect member over the thin piece of fabric.

You hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers before slowly pulling the fabric down. You watch as his member pops out of the boxers, slapping up against his stomach. Your eyes widen as you wonder how you're going to take all of Drew.

Drew runs his fingers through your hair as he stands in front of you. You glance up at him before you take him in your hand. You lick his tip before starting to take him in your mouth.

Slowly, you bob your head up and down, going a little deeper every time you go down. Your hands are on his thighs and groans escape his lips as you start to suck.

His fingers run through your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You groan softly as he hits the back of your throat. Your nails dig into the skin on his thighs as you move your head.

After a few minutes of this, Drew pulls himself out of your mouth. He leans down and presses a kiss to your saliva covered lips. It was a messy job that made saliva drip down your chin and cover your lips.

He pushes you onto your back and gets on his knees at the foot of your bed. Drew hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and panties before he pulls them off of you. You throw your legs over his shoulders as he kisses your thighs, moving closer and closer to your soaked folds.

You hold onto the blankets on your bed as Drew kisses your wet core. You sigh softly and arch your back off the bed.

Drew's tongue runs through your folds before he slips a finger into you. You moan softly as he pumps his finger in and out of you. He sucks on your clit and you moan louder, your hands finding their way into his long hair. You grip lightly as Drew adds a second finger.

"Drew," you moan. "Please."

He looks up at you with his eyes and asks, "Please what?"

You look down at him and say, "I need something other than your fingers. Please."

You pull lightly at his hair, wanting him on top of you. He smirks before taking his fingers out of you, making you whine slightly as you watch him step out of his jeans.

"Um," he says. "Protection."

Right. Protection. "Top drawer in the table next to the bed," you say. He nods and walks over to your bedside table. You move backward and sit up. Drew pulls a tiny shiny blue package out of the drawer, opening it up and sliding the contents on his member.

Drew crawls over to you and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips as he moves, laying on top of you between your legs. He positions himself outside of you and pulls back from the kiss.

He looks down at you and asks, "Do ya really want this?"

Nodding, you say, "I do. I really want this. I really want you."

After leaning down and kissing you again, he slowly slides himself into you. You moan into the kiss as he slides himself deeper into you.

Drew puts his hands on either side of your head and props himself up with his arms, breaking away from the kiss. You stare up at the Scotsman as he starts to thrust into you. You gasp and moan, gripping onto his arms and digging your nails into the skin on his arm.

His thrusts get faster and deeper into you. Your moans get louder and your back arches off the bed.

It's when he starts to slam into your g-spot you start to scream his name. Your hips chase his and your moans are loud.

"Drew!" you moan. "Don't stop, oh God. Please don't stop. Please."

You feel him start to get faster as your legs start to shake, being pulled closer and closer to your orgasm. You make a little 'O' with your mouth and Drew kisses your neck, marking it up a little bit.

Drew grunts and groans on top of you as his thrusts get harder. He continues slamming into your g-spot, making you moan louder than you have before. "God, Drew," you almost scream. "I'm close."

He mumbles against the skin on your neck, saying, "Come with me, Y/N. In three, two." Both of you release before he gets to one. You both moan out profanities and you moan Drew's name.

You lay on your back and catch your breath. That was amazing. You had no idea that Drew could do that.

A layer of sweat has formed on both of you as Drew rolls off of you, pulling off the condom and tying it off before throwing it away. You crawl under the blankets and Drew joins you.

"I never want to be alone on Christmas ever again after that," you sigh out, finally catching your breath.

Drew looks over at you and says, "Ya don't have to be. Next year, come over to my place and we can make a mess on my bed instead of you."

You giggle and press a soft kiss to Drew's lips, cuddling up to him and soon falling asleep in his arms.

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mightyavngrs · 4 years

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golden boy | jeff atkins x reader

summary: liberty's golden boy (also known as your designated best friend) has been ignoring you for a week now but you've had enough of that

masterlist

It all started with a text to your best friend. A simple "hey atkins! sorry but i can't make it to your practice today :/ Thomas asked me out to the movies and i have to get ready. good luck tho <3". You didn't think he would mind, really, you spent all your time with the golden boy, your best friend and partner in crime, an evening shouldn't change that. But here you were on the cafeteria having lunch with Clay and Hannah, the day after, and Jeff was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't at his usual spot next to your locker in the morning but you brushed it off thinking that maybe something had come up and he couldn't make it, but now, a few hours later, he still hadn't talked to you and you were starting to get worried.

"Earth to y/n!" Hannah called out waving a hand in front of your face. "What's wrong? You still haven't touched your food and you've been staring at that coke for 5 minutes."

"I'm good" you assured her, locking eyes with the brunette "It's just... Jeff hasn't talked to me yet today..."

"Really?" she asked with a mocking tone. "C'mon y/n he's probably just busy or something. I'm sure nothing happened."

"Yeah." Clay agreed "I heard something about the jocks having a meeting of some sort. He'll show up eventually."

"You're probably right..." you mumbled playing with your fork but something still felt wrong.

And you were right. A week had passed and still no word from liberty's golden boy. You had tried to talk to him multiple times but every time you came close he would just shrug you off coming up with some weak excuse to leave. Even on Saturday when you asked him to join you on a movie marathon he declined, mentioning something about tutoring with clay who you knew to be at the cleamont's on an extra shift to help pay for his mom's birthday present. You decided you'd had enough when Scott Reed came up to you one day, and asked you if you were going to some party taking place the following day.

"What party?" you'd asked with a confused look.

"What party? Jeff told me he had already asked you to come." he stopped, waiting for some sign of recognition on your features but after getting one more confused look, he proceeded. "Anyway, the party is at mine tomorrow. Make sure to show up ok? Everyone is going." he finished with a smile.

"Yeah i'll be there. Is Jeff going too?" you asked, hoping for an opportunity to finally talk to your best friend somewhere he couldn't just run away from.

"Yep. Mentioned something about needing to get drunk." he answered with a shrug, turning away to leave for his next class.

The party had finally come around and with it your chance to talk things out with the baseball player. You knocked on the door softly, being greeted by the smile of your friend Scott.

"You here early?" he asked letting you in.

"Yeah. I had nothing better to do and figured you could use some help setting things up." you smiled back at him.

"Appreciate it y/l/n" he thanked you with a fist bump.

A few hours had gone by and a couple beers in you were still going strong. The big house was crowded turning your task to find your best friend ten times harder and the fact that you were starting to get a bit buzzed didn't help. Struggling to make your way through sweaty bodies you finally took a stop when you found Hannah.

"Hey, girl! I've been looking for you for ages! You having fun?" the pretty girl asked taking your hands to make you dance with her.

"Yeah! Actually I've been looking for Jeff, have you seen him yet? This is like my only opportunity to talk to him somewhere he can't run away from you know?" you asked, swaying your body to the sound of the loud music.

"I think i saw him somewhere in the living room? Pretty sure he was playing some game with the others."

"Thanks, Han, i'll come back to you alright? Don't get too drunk." you warned winking at your friend before leaving to the living room picking up one more beer on your way.

When you finally got to your destination you immediately made out the figures of some of your friends, including Jeff, playing suck and blow, the card dangerously close to the pretty girl by your best friend's side.

"Jeff!" You'd managed to call out and as his head turned to you the girl dropped the card and pulled him into a kiss. You stood where you were, paralyzed by whatever the emotion you were feeling was, as tears threatened to run down your face. It felt like an eternity until Jeff pulled away and looked at you again, but this time instead of confusion, his eyes were filled with regret and worry. You finally woke up from your transe running away from the room and making your way to the backyard through watery eyes. But when you got outside a hand on your wrist stopped you from getting much further.

"Are you ok?" the concerned voice of your best friend was heard on top of the loud music coming from inside.

"Why do you care?" you asked rudely, yanking your arm away from his hold.

"Because i'm your best friend? What am i supposed to do ignore you-" he started, raising his voice, but stopped right as he realized his mistake.

"Yeah, ignore me! Like you've been doing for the past week! It wasn't a big deal then why should it be a big deal now?" At this point the few people at the backyard had already left leaving you and Jeff to your fight.

"Wait, so you get to hang out with other guys but i don't get to hang out with other people too?"

Shocked by his words and by how childish the boy was acting you kept yelling back. "Are you kidding me? I went out with one guy once!"

"Yeah and it was a fucking date!"

"You were kissing that girl just now for fuck's sake!" you yelled back at him.

"She was the one who kissed me but why do you even care?"

"Because i love you!" you finally snapped letting the tears you were holding back set free. "I love you but i know you could never love me back. That's why i went on that fucking date, to try to get over you! 'Cause you're liberty's golden boy, you are the most beautiful, funniest and sweetest guy i've ever met and you're way out of my league and sometimes... shit, sometimes you make me feel like i'm not good enough." you finally say, letting out a sigh while trying to stop a sob from escaping your lips.

And suddenly his hands are on your face, and his lips are on yours. And it takes you a second to process what's happening but once you do you start kissing back. His lips are soft and warm and it's like they were made to be on yours. And it's sweet but so needy and you can't help but be upset when you finally have to pull away for air as Jeff rests his forehead on yours before muttering.

"I love you too. That's why I was ignoring you. I couldn't bear being next to you thinking that you didn't like me back. I know it was selfish but-"

You pressed your lips to his to cut him off.

"It's fine." you mumbled tiredly after the alcohol and heat of the previous argument finally started taking the best of you.

"I hate it when we fight." he confessed, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing you as close to him as possible. You wrapped you arms around his neck mumbling under your breath "You kinda started it."

"Hey!" he exclaimed with a pout, pulling away from the embrace to look in your eyes but you pulled him in right away. "I'm sorry" he mumbled into your neck after pressing a kiss to your soft skin.

"You're okay, Atkins." you chuckled lightly playing with his hair in means to calm him down. "Just hold me." you'd requested in a whisper.

The poppy music from inside had been replaced by slow songs, the teens' strategy to avoid noise complaints at the late hours, and you and the golden boy could finally find peace in each other's arms as you swayed to the muffled sound of lord huron's voice in the warm spring night.

a/n: thanks for reading <3

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chuuyas--boo · 3 years

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The "Judge" and The Sinner.

Tw: Violence, language, murder, Self harm

(Partially based off of 3 episodes of Angels of Death; Episode 4: A sinner has no right of choice, Episode 5; Don't let me kill you just yet, and Episode 6; Zack is the only one who can kill me. Some torture methods will be skipped over/changed slightly because most human beings can't endure all of the torture Zack and Rachel (Mostly Zack cause he's an idiot) went through without dying.)

The elevator doors opened and Riley slowly walked out onto B3, immediatley noticing the machine guns mounted on the walls, as if the last floor wasn't difficult enough; Running from the sweet but obsessive and insane ginger haired grave-keeper; Eddie.

A single bullet was fired from one of the guns, just barley missing Riley's arm causing her to stumble back, just as more bullets were fired rapidly, getting closer until they stopped, only inches away.

"Great...trying to fill me with bullet holes huh?"

"Hiii~! Terribly sorry I'm late! It took you so long to get here...I nearly dozed off! Still...I'm surprised you weren't killed just now! You sure have incredible intuition dear~"

"What..."

"Y'know something? I had a feeling you'd be a great sinner~! ...I must've needed some excitement cause that woke me right up!" "That's great and all miss...but I don't really care...Could you just let me through...?"

"I supposed I can do that~"

Bright lights shined on Riley and she narrowed her eyes so it wasn't so harsh.

The iron bar door slid open and Riley walked through, and walked down the hallway to a room with locked doors.

"You said you'd let me through..." her voice was calm yet slightly irritated.

"My~ You're so impatient! At least let me finish putting on my makeup!"

Riley let out a huff of annoyance.

"There's a certain procedure each criminal must go through before their punishment is assigned~ If I were you, I'd start getting ready now. In fact I'll even open up a room for you~"

One of the doors unlocked and Riley went in.

(ignore the fact Zack and Rachel are there, it's a room with the mugshot board(?), a camera, and a table with a bin with the name boards)

"Every legitimate criminal has a mugshot, right~? Take a pretty one for me! ...Oh and it's not a proper mugshot without your name board, of course~"

Riley walked over to the table, grabbed her name board out of the bin which said "Riley Morgan" on it, in letters that looked as if they were painted with blood...which wouldn't be surprising if it WAS blood.

"How am I supposed to do this by myself..."

Riley huffed, and moved the camera closer to the wall, hung the name board around her neck and quickly took a picture, narrowing her eyes slightly at the flash.

"There..."

Taking the name board off and tossing it to the side, Riley grabbed the photo and held it up towards the security camera, and the iron bars slid out of the way.

Walking out of the door; into another hallway, but this time with poorly drawn images of what seemed to be torture methods.

"They're illustrations of punishments I designed, for sinners just like you~! I'll give you a choice,...there's more than one way to punish a sinner you see~, So I've got a variety of painful options waiting for you! Of course...if you'd rather spend the rest of your life rotting in a cell...it's always on the table~!"

"What kind of pathetic person would decide to rot forever..."

"Oh~? Too bad...and here I was hoping I'd get to keep you forever! ahahah~!"

Silently Riley walked into one of the rooms, filled with dolls...life size wooden dolls in rows of chairs...with what looked to be an electric chair in the front. "She- She's really trying to fry me to death!"

But suddenly the iron bars slid open.

"Ahaha~! I know you wouldn't survive that kind of punishment! I'd like to see a little sinner like you suffer for longer~ So I ever so kindly let you through!"

Riley hesitated before walking out of that room, into another hallway, with a door that had a warning sign on it. "Doesn't seem like the best of ideas...but it's the only chance I've got"

Opening the door open, Riley imagined sitting in the electric chair and being shocked over and over until she eventually died and shuddered, once inside the door locked behind her. "Great..., as if it wasn't bad enough to be locked in here, it really stinks!" scrunching her nose at the smell, she noticed a corpse in the middle of the room.

Sighing, Riley walked over to one of the blood stained windows, pulled her knife out of her pocket and bashed the handle against the window as hard as possible, but nothing happened, not even the slightest crack.

The TV's in the room turned on, showing Cathy.

"Hiiii~! Did you miss me dear?"

"Like the plague." Riley said flatly.

"Let me give you an explanation of the room you're in right now! And you'd better listen closely if you want to live. I got a little carried away with the design~ It's completely sealed, making it impossible for air to get in or out! The window glass has been reinforced, so you won't be able to break it! And the best part...I'm about to fill it with something veryyy special! If you stay in there long enough, you'll be on your way to a nice, peaceful death. It's poison gas~! Obviously I wouldn't confine you to a place like that with no way out...in fact, here's a gift~ I've mercifully provided a gas mask! As long as you do your best, of the utmost faith you'll escape! Oh, and of course I think it'd be a bit boring if I let you sit in there forever, so I've added a time limit! I knowwww~ I'm sooo thorough! After your time runs out you'll be given another gift! A gas so potent the mask won't do any good against it! That's all for now, have yourself a good time in there, and try not to die, okay~?"

Sighing, Riley glanced at the gas mask in the middle of the floor as the poison gas began to flow into the room, noticing the cracks in the eye lenses "Yeah...that won't be all that helpful..." and then walked over to the corpse on the floor and crouched down.

"There's writing..."

Riley gently shoved the body out of the way and read it

"The one with the ugly foot, the foolish killer who stomped out life with the right foot..."

Pausing as the writing got more difficult to read Riley huffed and then continued.

"It says something like...if you feel guilty get rid of your right foot, if the crime and punishment are equivalent, light will shine in hell."

Riley hesitated before grabbing the right foot, and walked over to the scale and placed it on one side, then grabbed the bag that was placed on the table and set it on the other side of the scale and watched as it balanced out.

The gas started to get to her, and Riley started coughing as it got harder to breath, quickly running over to the gas mask and putting it on, despite the cracks in it, it'd be better than nothing. The gas mask helped a little, but made it harder to see.

"This is stupid! Why the hell bother providing something if it's only going to make it harder you sadistic bitch?!"

Letting out a sigh of frustration Riley looked around hoping something had happened, and noticed the safe in the corner of the room had opened slightly, inside was a wire and a key card. Grabbing both, Riley walked over to where the key card would be inserted and put it in.

The gas stopped slowly and Riley smiled to herself, glad she had figured it out.

"My, my~ What a smart sinner you are~!"

"You're the one that made me come in here in the first place..."

"And you're the sinner who got yourself into this place~! You coulddd chose to rot in a cell~ It's still an option on the table dear~"

"Like I'd decide to do that! I'd rather die immedatley."

"My, my~ someone's eager to be punished for her sins~!" "Not like I can leave this floor till I'm "punished" anyway..."

Cathy laughed as Riley walked out of the room, down a hallway very slowly, the gas still taking its toll. Eventually she sat down against a wall where the cameras wouldn't see her and fell asleep.

Waking up with a jolt, Riley shook her head trying to get rid of the thoughts from the nightmare. Getting up and slowly down the hall, into a room with a smashed doll house, half expecting to be required to do something, she sighed and glanced at the TV in the room.

"I'll let you pass through this one~ I didn't know enough about you to mentally torture you so you're lucky!"

"and you said I took a long time to get here, in that time you could've figured out more about me, but why would you want to? I'm just an ugly, pathetic, useless, boring bitch."

"Oh~? I don't think you're boring! You're actually quite an interesting sinner~ You're smart and I like that about you~ You remind me of that gorgeous sinner; Eddie~!" Not knowing if that was a good thing or not, Riley slowly walked down another hallway, separated in two by a wall in the center with barbed wire on the top, stopping at the table. The door up on the ledge opened and Cathy stepped out.

"How nice to finally meet you in person~!" Riley just gave her a cold glare "You gonna let me through or not?" "My! You shouldn't be so rude to a pretty lady like me~! In order to continue, you must inject yourself with those syringes, one contains vitamins and the other contains dangerous drugs!" "Which is which?" "AHAHAHAHA~!! It doesn't matter! I won't tell, besides I forgot~! Once you inject every last drop I'll gladly open up the door for you! You might wanna hurry though...or else someone you love will die~" and with that, Cathy went back the way she came.

"Great...this could kill me, I'll probably die anyway..."

Grabbing both syringes, Riley looked at them; one of them contained green liquid and the other was yellow, but the colors didn't give any hints as to which was the vitamins and which was the drugs, it wouldn't matter since she'd have to inject both. Quickly Riley injected both into her arm, tossed the empty syringes to the side and the door opened.

"Stupid bitch...my heads pounding..." Riley stopped in the dim hallway and leaned against the wall with her hands against her head.

The so called "dangerous drugs" just brought out the voices in her head, telling her to kill someone, or something and they only got more persistent by the second.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Riley's voice had gone shrill, laced with insanity as it echoed through the dark empty hallway.

Continuing to walk down the hall as the voices got more and more persistent until she walked into a large room and the door slammed shut behind her, locking.

"Glad you could finally join your sister and I~! It took long enough..." There was a girl standing in the middle of the room with long dark brown hair and blueish green eyes.

"What does she have to do with this? I want nothing to do with her! She left me and Jack, and Jack died!!"

"Oh~, you don't want revenge~? All those voices in your head telling you to kill her but you just can't? Maybe you aren't as great of a sinner as I thought..." The brunette glanced at Riley "R-Riley don't...please..."

"Oh but why not!? Huh? WHY NOT LEXI!? Why shouldn't I? You left us alone, and Jack died. Why shouldn't I rip your throat out right here right fucking now?! So you can go be pathetic somewhere else? Nahhh~ I'll kill you myself, slowly and painfully and see how you like it!"

Fear shined in Lexi's eyes as Riley stepped closer

"Scared~? You should be!" Cathy laughed as she watched the two

"AHAHAH~!! I've provided you with a gun as well~ Kill her as you'd like!" Riley grabbed the gun and pointed it right at Lexi's head.

"You could've avoided this y'know? But you didn't...and now you'll pay for it!"

"RILEY PLEASE!" "You're gonna beg to live? Pathetic. If you're gonna beg, do it right, you don't look nearly as pathetic as he did." "W-wh-who d-did?" "You don't know? AHAH! Go on~ Tell her~!" Riley shot a cold glance at Cathy, enough to make her shut up, temporarily. "You're clueless...Jack? Yeahhh...I did it. I killed him." "YOU WHAT?"

Lexi attemped to grab the gun out of Riley's hand only to have it pressed to her chest.

"He begged me to, so I did." "You whore-" "Do you WANT me to pull this trigger? The trigger that'll end your pathetic existence?"

"Do as you please...it doesn't matter anymore..." Riley pulled the trigger but nothing happened.

Cathy giggled and then bursted out laughing.

Silently Riley pulled the knife out "You'll die one way or another~" and pointed it at Lexi's throat.

"Please...-"

Without saying anything, Riley took the knife and slid it across her arm, blood gushed down her arm but she seemed unbothered.

Silently Cathy got up, and walked down the stairs to where the siblings are "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE KILLING HER!" "Did I say I wasn't going to..?" The drugs would've worn off at this point, but because Riley was younger and smaller they hadn't yet, without hesitating she flicked the knife back towards Lexi

"RILEY PLEASE! Can't you hold back?" "Hold back!? IF I COULD I WOULDN'T BE HERE!" "Sinners can't control their bloodlust~ Just accept it!" Lexi stepped back only to stumble and fall

"Get up. Now." Lexi didn't get up, so Riley grabbed her arm and jerked her up making her stand up and quickly plunged the knife into her stomach over and over, blood gushed out and covered the floor around them, Cathy laughed as Riley plunged the knife deeper every time until she stopped and Lexi's body fell to the floor, limp and dead.

"My, my~ You ARE a great sinner~ Now you'll get your punishment~!"

Riley just glared at Cathy silently, her eyes seeming cold and dead.

Without warning the 4 guns in the corners of the room began firing, not knowing what to do, Riley ducked hoping they'd stop before they got to her, unfortunately they didn't and one shot her in the leg.

"You'd look great filled with bullet holes~" Collapsing on her knees, Riley glared up at Cathy "So would you" and pointed the gun at her, forgetting nothing had happened when she pulled the trigger last time.

"Go on~ Shoot me~!" "Why are you so eager to be shot?"

"Just do it! Unless....you aren't as great of a sinner as I thought~" Riley pointed it at Cathy's head and pulled the trigger but nothing happened "AHAHAHA~!! Foolish of you to think I'd actually give you a loaded gun!"

Despite the blood gushing from the bullet wound, Riley shakily got up "So...are you gonna kill me or..." "No. A sinner like you is much too interesting to be killed~!"

Riley sat on the floor, watching blood pool around her, and her sisters dead body in silence.

#Tw: Violence #Tw: murder #Tw: Language #Oc: Riley Morgan #Oc sibling: Lexi Morgan #Oc sibling: Jack Morgan #Catherine Ward #Angels of Death oc #satsuten #satsuriku no tenshi #tw: self harm

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illicitivywp · 3 years

Text

mal de vivre.

The morning that Harry wakes up and you're not sleeping peacefully beside him is the worst of his entire life.

He can sense that you're not there. The air still circulates whiffs of your caramel shampoo and the breeze of your automatic fan that you always insist on leaving on all night still whirs leisurely and tickles the back of his neck.

Regardless, the room is vacant. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that much.

For now, he remains entirely numb. Immune to the flooding sobs and intolerable agony and festering anger, he supposes it's in his best interest to stay like that for a while.

For a few days, at least. Until he can fully process your absence. He's not certain how long it takes the average person to wholly recognise an entire chunk of themselves missing, but he figures he's already suffered enough.

Surely, the universe isn't that cruel.

Your love is delightedly grand, and with its sudden unavailability, he feels so dejectedly vague.

He's clearly not perceiving time correctly, perhaps it's his distant concentration or maybe even his body's method of rejecting life and the wretched torture of its innate malice.

A few times, he's experienced sleep paralysis. The first, horrifying occasion is long-forgotten, when he was seven or so - it happened only after staying up until one in the morning to watch a horror movie that he'd been specifically warned not to watch and a towering vacuum of danger stood solid as stone at the end of his bed.

If it weren't for his fingertips subconsciously tracing featherlight scribes of your name on his forearm, he might reasonably assume he's haunted with the condition once again.

A clattering of paws on hard floorboards injects a little more reality into his thoughts, and he still can't bear, physically, to turn over and greet the sweet puppy you'd snuck home and surprised him with upon his arrival home from work around a year ago, knowing that his acceptance of a familiarly-shaped void is waiting just inches away.

Eventually, and after another chaotic scramble of claws in need of a cut, Chi is bouncing enthusiastically at his side and attempting an ambitious leap onto the mattress. She fails theatrically, landing in a resounding thud on her back and launching back to her feet, completely unaware of her owner's awaiting grief.

Masking his greatest fears with scooping a palm beneath Chi's belly and hauling her upwards to nestle into his chest, the reposition forces him to lay on his back (she's always detested laying on her side, especially when smothered with adoring cuddles) and, like the coward he truly is, his eyes focus adamantly on a random spot of the pale ceiling. With every minute shuffle, it becomes more and more achingly apparent that you're really not here.

And if everything runs correctly, you'll squirm and giggle graciously at his waking before returning his kiss, to his lips, this time, and he'll suggest applying a little moisturiser, like he always does, and you'll love him like you should.

When his eyelids snap open and his head curves breezily to your claimed side of the bed, he's somewhat unsurprised to confirm that his life truly has transformed to a dreadful bundle of tragedy. In your imposing place, is a neatly-made bed and an envelope.

A single, white envelope, stained by the sweet, flowing cursive that could flow only from your touch.

Chi leaps naturally to the spectacle, sniffing curiously at the letter and nudging it around a little, whilst Harry is so unexplainably pained that he's unable to move. Swallowing thickly, he's not certain word-for-word what lies in the confines of this envelope, but he does know it'll confirm your leaving him, and for some strange reason, he's relieved you left an explanation, at least.

A souvenir of you to hang onto forever, along with the millions of other items and memories of yours in his possession.

Carefully removing it from Chi's vicinity and replacing the object of her attention with a random squeaky toy that he'd discovered burrowed beneath his bed a few nights ago, he traces your exquisite handwriting with his fingertip and reads along with inaudible movements of his mouth; For Harry, mon amour.

In that moment, he realises profoundly that he'll never get to request hearing you say different words in your accent again.

The amount of times he implored relentlessly to hear je t'aime and have it accompanied with an endearing kiss is infinite.

Harry, my love,

I'm so incredibly sorry that I couldn't handle the pain.

Seeing your face cures any anguish I feel, but not this time.

I really, really tried; I know you did, too. I wanted it to work out, I prayed every day that our suffering would magically end and we could return to our love, I hoped that one day I would wake and cuddle you tightly and describe this awful nightmare I'd had.

Possibly, I may write to you in the future; please, don't try to contact me, it won't work and you know it's for the best. My family and close friends know where I am, where I will be, and they also know not to tell you if you ask.

I wish I could kiss all of your heartache away and protect you from all evil in this world, but I feel my presence is detrimental to your recovery.

My love for you is never-ending. Please be okay.

Forgive me and love someone else like you loved me. Let someone else love you like I loved you. Tellement, tellement.

Forever, I'll think of you and how unbelievably content I felt waking up next to you every day for seven-hundred and eighty (? - I'm estimating) mornings straight.

I will never, ever leave our love behind, and I adore you more than I can express. Your strength and resilience are admirable, and you are truly the best thing to ever happen to me.

Mon bébé, I miss you terribly.

Toujours, ton amour.

Chi tugs eagerly on her lead at the sight of the familiar entrance to her home, Harry in tow right behind. Sludgy snow muddies his shoes and soaks the hem of his jeans. His puppy's paws are undoubtedly drenched, too, but her fur is protected valiantly by her favourite jacket. He'd purchased it from a specialist store in France a year prior, and, since surprising her with the present upon his shared return, it'd become her primary option during the winter months.

Retrieving a reasonable pile of letters from his designated section, a rapid flick through displays bills, scams and all of the usual junk he usually receives. He offers his elderly neighbour a polite smile and holds open the door with his knee to construct a clear path for her exit.

He grimaces slightly at the teeth-shaped arc of damp dents into his mail - he hadn't particularly considered the repercussions of carrying it that way - and unclips Chi's lead, allowing her to run rampage through his airy apartment. Absently dropping his keys into its small dish of residence and taking a closer inspection at his post to infiltrate any wrong addresses or scams, he selects an apple from his fruit bowl and steals one firm chunk before noticing something peculiar.

Groomed eyebrows knitting together in confusion, he plucks one particular letter from the bunch and stacks it to the top. Perplexed by the sorely familiar curve of the writing scrawled on the front, his head shakes in denial - you wouldn't have, surely.

Discarding of all other mail on his kitchen counter, he's puzzled beyond belief; you'd left with no verbal warning and a letter that, admittedly, had been the source of several bouts of severe depression and, in spite of its awful affects, read dutifully every single day since your disappearance.

Rashly, he wishes you hadn't changed your phone number and email address shortly before leaving so he could possibly contact you regarding this mystery. However, he knows just as well as you clearly foresaw; his topic of discussion wouldn't be only the letter.

Tearing open the corner cautiously, he's incredibly delicate with checking inside the envelope once open to ensure it contains only his presumed note. Reviewing the front with a scouring gaze of disbelief, it really, truly has come from you.

He can't remember how many times he read each postcard that you'd gifted him with at the very beginning of your relationship. You'd recently made the permanent move from France to England, and, in a new country with limited knowledge of the native language, Harry had unintentionally become your beacon of comfort here.

With his fluent French and English, he was the perfect contender for kindly correcting your terminology and educating you on the essential etiquettes of Britain. Within weeks, however, your sweet smile had changed from an enjoyable sight during your frequent coffee shop meetings to something he craved.

He misses reading your silly, awful puns based around your home country, especially his favourite. A laughably unfunny joke paired with a matching scribble of the two of you; what do french fries do when they meet? They ketchup!

Harry,

I feel awful for waiting so long to speak to you again.

Your voice and your hugs. I've imagined them every single day.

I miss my Chi. How is she? I hope she's not missing her maman. Give her a kiss from me.

And the biggest kiss to yourself, because you deserve it, mon tout.

I'm inexplicably sorry for leaving so abruptly; I just couldn't take much more. The reminders were too much. Seeing your inconsolable pain every day was too much.

I'm so, so selfish, but I still believe allowing you to heal without my troubles was the best and easiest path for both of us.

I'm sure you noticed, but I may have stolen one of our pictures. It was your favourite, and that's why I had to choose that one, I suppose. Horrible, again.

I miss your dimples (and irritating you by poking them all the time). I miss your lips, they were so soft. No wonder you always bossed me around with the lip balm - I have my own now, I take it everywhere with me.

It smells like caramel.

Most of all, I miss your love. I've never known someone to love like you do. You were, are, and always will be, incredible.

Have you found someone to love yet?

Do you still think about me? If yes, please don't.

It's not fair of me to appear out of nowhere like this and not allow you a chance to reply. If you wish, post your letter to my maman's house - I'm not there, just to crush any other hope you have, but I'll receive it.

I'll be sorry forever, mon amour.

Sois gentil avec toi-même.

Câlins pour toujours, your baby.

Auriele,

I'm so thankful you decided to reach out again. I've missed you. Tellement, tellement.

Chi is brilliant, still eating everything and constantly in need of a haircut. She does miss you.

My hurt is still prevalent, I've accepted that it always will be. I truly don't believe it can be fixed again, but I'm still trying.

I spent the two weeks after your leaving searching for every single picture in existence of us. I cried so many times, I wish I could tell you that I'm wholly recovered and that you're fully forgiven, but I can't.

I think I counted them all. It's either three-hundred and seventy-seven or one-thousand, one-hundred and two (I have two sticky notes labelled pictures, I'm not sure which is correct.)

No one could ever love me like you do, tu es le meilleur.

I suppose that answers both of your questions.

Thank you for the chance to respond. I was incredibly confused when I received your thoughtful letter. I'm assuming by this one's destination being your maman's house, you're in France? You don't have to answer that. I would understand.

Mon bébé chéri, je t'aime.

Harry x

Harry,

It was the least I could do. I hurt you doubly and you never deserved that.

Tell her I love her. Buy her an ice cream for me (note the two dollars also enclosed in this envelope!)

There aren't enough apologies in the world to properly cover the extent of my mistakes, but I'll continue gathering as many as I can. And send them straight to you.

I also wish you could truthfully claim that you're okay, and I hope, with time, that you will be. It's all you ever deserved, mon chéri. You don't ever have to forgive me. I understand entirely if you hate me.

I wouldn't be surprised if those numbers were both low counts. I loved your face, as superficial as it sounds, but it truly was prettier than anything, and my favourite thing was always surrounding myself with it. Aussi longtemps que je pouvais.

My baby, I only tried my hardest to love you, and I sincerely hope I haven't ruined your idea of love so much that I'm your standard. Please, travel, find people to connect with, fall in love with a place, if not a person.

I bet Chi would love Spain. Australia, maybe? Thailand? Your choice entirely. You always were smarter than me (i.e. I left you - doesn't get much dumber.)

I am in France, feel free to ask any question you want about my current life if you decide to write back - you really don't have to. It's okay. You're still perfect.

Just not my address. It's so selfish of me to hide away from you when you're the one who deserves closure, but I'm not ready to share that information. Again, I'm sorry, and I hope you understand.

Tu me manques. Tu me manques ma maman et mon père. Tu me manques au cœur.

All my love, Auriele x

Every day, his thoughts are plagued with ideas of how to write his next letter. Your previous few communications ran smoothly; you seem incredibly apologetic and, as much as he would've gladly ignored the past tense use of 'love' in your most recent letter, he can't help but realise the difference from your first each time he reads it.

He's not certain why his first letter practically poured from his pen and before he knew it, it was sealed, posted and received. This time, however, he can't even construct a way to greet you.

Has distance and time really weakened your connection that much? His favourite childhood Disney movies would be ashamed.

The heartache you've endured together is insufferable, the bitterness remaining fresh and the misery continuing to roll onwards with him, and yet, you're both still alive. Perhaps, he should be a little more thankful.

He's tested out various support groups over the past few months; they appear to help in the moment, but once he returns home to a completely empty house, - aside from Chi - he realises all of his progress to be entirely fake.

How can he realistically recover from his insurmountable loss in solitude?

An apartment which used to breathe vibrant life and excitement for the future, diminished to nothing but silence.

He might as well have lost his house, too. Every second he spends there, surrounded by reminders of his grief, is draining. Of course, if he were a millionaire, he would've discovered a lovely, one bed flat with wide, open floors and windows. If he were a millionaire, though, maybe none of this agony would've ever happened.

He could’ve fixed it.

Regardless, he didn't, and now he returns home every single day, monotonous and finding solace only in rereading your letters and running through his local park with Chi, no matter the weather.

Sometimes, he hears the faint echo of your melodious voice ringing in his ear; mon doux bébé. For a moment, he believes you may be talking to him, but with a resounding giggle of contentment, you never were.

Within a month, he lost both of his sweet baby girls, and the pain is simply too much to comprehend.

Elle, mon cœur,

Firstly, I apologize for my late reply. This letter was, for some reason, incredibly difficult to write.

You hurt me never. Life hurt me, and it hurt you, too, and I'm sorry it's so cruel.

Chi adored her ice cream - vanilla, your favourite - and said thanks! (complimentary picture attached, for you).

Sympathy and apologies aren't a cure. I've received enough of them to know. I hope you have, too. We might not accept it and it might not heal our pain, but it is nice to know you have people by your side.

Mon amour, I would/could never come close to hatred for you. You are my entire heart, and you own everything within it.

I hope, one day, I can forgive you. I hope you can forgive me. We both made mistakes. We're both accountable, and so is fate. Unfortunately, it wasn't on our side, and we have to welcome that.

Your face is certainly Top Five list of physical attributes, which goes as followed:

1. your lips. I know I complained about them being dry all the time, but I miss them, still.

2. your eyes. Somewhere between the ocean and a cottage filled with flowers, they were paradise.

3. your thighs. I am a man - a broken one, but a man nonetheless - and they are certainly the most family-friendly feature I could think of.

4. your smile. Even on my darkest days, your smile was heaven. I hope you're smiling right now. I wish I could see it.

5. your face? All of the above and everything else. Was that cheating?

I wish I could leave here. I wish I could find a small, tropic island where Chi and I can get tipsy on Virgin Mary's and surf all day, but I feel it wouldn't be fair for both of us to run.

Although, Chi would certainly have a great time in Thailand. She told me so.

Did I mention she misses you? We miss you.

I have more questions than you can imagine. This is only my second letter, however, so I suppose I'll stick to three for now, (sorry for all the lists!)

How are you? Mentally? Physically?

Have you made new friends whilst you've been out there?

Would you ever visit London again?

I miss you forever.

Ton bébé.

Harry x

Harry,

It's more tough to write my letters than you might assume. No need to apologise, I understand.

Life is shit. I thought I had accepted that. I never imagined how evil it could be.

Chi, my baby, looks so pretty. I love her haircut (number 8694743? out of infinite).

I have heard my fair share of sympathy. At first, I felt bitter. They didn't understand what I had suffered, they didn't understand the pain I felt. With time, I realised that, sometimes, sorry is all you need to hear to feel a little better. To feel like you're managing life, at least.

I wish I could believe I deserve it, but I truly don't.

My mistakes seem perpetual. I'm constantly remembering new ones. Things I could've noticed faster, signs that I should've recognised. Yours are nothing. You made no mistakes, mon amour, please believe that. As much as fate has been my least favourite higher power for the past year, I agree about welcoming our own.

I would make a list of my personal favourites of your appearance, but I'd be here all day, and I'm meeting with a friend in an hour (your second question - check).

It wasn't fair for either of us to run. I think it's turned out for the best, however.

I can imagine Chi passed out on the beach. You both deserve a holiday. Go to Scotland, or something, at least. Just away from London.

I miss you both. Much more than I can express.

I'm well. Mentally; it's a struggle, but that's just life, I suppose. Physically; my sickness stopped a while ago. I hope your headaches did, too, but I've been searching for cures for those for a long time.

Yes! I've made quite a few close friends. They all know and love you. I'll tell them you asked.

London holds far too many memories for me to bear. You're the only one I can stand. Maybe one day.

Tellement de câlins.

Auriele.

The second your letter arrives and is read fully three times over, Harry's scrambling to collect his fancy paper and ink pen, thousands of ideas about how to reply brimming in his head.

Pen to paper, however, his mind is entirely blank.

You're inching closer to addressing the subject of your pain, and so is he. So far, the only discussions you've had regarding that difficult topic have ended either in awful arguments or uncontrollable, endless crying and they all occurred before your disappearance.

Since then, you've had ten months and seventeen days shared to mature from and process the situation. Perhaps, if you were to have a conversation about it now, it would be beneficial.

Harry is aware of the solution to his strange writer's block and urges to attempt to fix your hurt, but he's not quite sure if he's ready. Physically forcing himself up from his cluttered desk, he tries not to think of the main event when changing his sloppy t-shirt and joggers to jeans and a jumper; it's February, so the wind is still well and alive but, luckily for Chi and the duration of her walks, the temperatures are beginning to rise.

His destination is barely a thirty minute leisurely stroll through the city away, and he feels shameful to admit that this is his first visit in ten and a half months. Several times, he's gathered his courage to stand on the pavement, surveying the vast area but never making it closer than the protective fences.

This time, though, he's determined to make it. And he will, with je t'aime's and sweet giggles bubbling in his ears.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

Auriele,

Life will continue to surprise us. It may be malicious, but it's also given me you, so I guess there are a few reasons to be grateful.

I think it's more like *8694744 out of infinite, and I'm sure she'll have many more unpleasant trips to the groomers in the future.

You are handling life impeccably, considering all. You deserve showers of recognition for just being here.

No one has ever been more deserving of my love, and no one ever will.

Please, don't blame yourself entirely. Yes, there were signs. Signs that we both should've seen earlier. We knew as much as everyone else. We can't know if things would be different if we'd noticed them, because they're not.

I'm glad you're enjoying life in France. Is it peaceful? Is it too far to ask if you're living with one of your new friends? What're their names, if you don't mind my asking?

If I were to go on holiday right now, Paris would be my first choice.

I'm glad you're feeling better, I hope you continue to improve mentally in the future. I wish you nothing but true happiness.

If you're ever here, I'd be honoured to see you again.

This might surprise you. Before I wrote this letter, I went to visit her.

I haven't since we were there together.

I talked to her for hours about my life and my pain and your letters and your pain and anything I'd love to say to you if I knew how. Meline always was the best listener, no offence to you. She just understands.

I miss her. I miss you. I miss my babies.

Please, send me a picture of you (always topping lists) in your next letter. I need to see you now. I bet you're glowing.

Toujours, Harry x

Harry, mon amour,

I feel as if I should address the end of your letter first, because I certainly wasn't expecting it. I cried a lot. I'm still crying as I write this.

It feels nice to feel.

I've been so numb to it all. I know I should sob every day, think of her every single second. I don't. That may make me an awful person, but I always preferred not to lie. Especially to you. I don't think the gravity has quite hit me yet.

Back to the normal, top to bottom of your letter.

My family is a gift. My parents, you and Meline, specifically. I've never admired anyone more.

I miss Chi. Especially today, for some reason. Send more pictures of her when you next write. (I enclosed an updated picture of me in town, if you hadn't noticed! It was taken last week.)

I had concerns. Concerns that I didn't follow up on. We knew something was wrong, but we did everything we could, right? We found help. We found medicine. Why didn't it work?

How fucking cruel can life possibly be?

It's much quieter than London. The air quality is visibly better. I am, actually. My closest friends are Leon and Aline. I'm living with them!

Paris is about as good a holiday as you can get. If I'm ever near you, whatever country it happens to be in, I'll be sure to see you.

The last part of your letter. I already touched upon it but not nearly enough.

I haven't said, heard or read her name in eleven months. I miss it. I miss your voice. And her laughs. She was so, so lively and enthusiastic for life.

It's so unfair that she didn't get the chance.

And I agree; she always was a fantastic listener. I told her about our issues more than I should've.

I wish I could hear her again. Her name wasn't Meline Risette Styles for nothing. Her laughs were so pretty. I could've listened on repeat.

I did. For a year.

I miss her.

I miss you. I miss your warmth. I miss your heart and your love and your smile and everything about you.

I miss normality.

When we thought things would be okay.

We were wrong, and hindsight, that's okay, too.

We will heal eventually, I trust that life can't take much more away from me.

Tout mon amour, Auriele x

Since that day, Harry's visited Meline every Sunday without fail - it's only been three weeks, but going in the first place was an unimaginable step.

He even combined Chi's walk with the most recent, and each time, entering, staying at and emerging from the cemetery becomes easier.

The first time, he paced through the gates several times before building the bravery to even step inside without running back. His flight or fight instinct had been touchy the whole time, bias towards flight the entire time.

He just wanted to be as far away from the source of his pain as possible.

At the same time, he just wanted his daughter back. Alive and healthy.

Once he'd settled, laid on the ground like a madman next to her grave, he never wanted to leave her again. He even brought her flowers and a little teddy bear from a shop he'd passed on his hurried journey there.

It was well and truly dark by the time he even considered returning home, because he'd rather be with his sweet baby than alone at home.

Now, Chi sniffs inquisitively around at the bundles of flowers placed on surrounding graves whilst Harry converses with his dead child's grave like she was as animated and eager as he remembered.

It's a little questionable for his sanity, but extremely helpful for his own mental health. And he's trying to fix them both.

He just wishes so much that he'd pushed for more tests in the hospital. If he could, he'd reject their diagnosis and prescription of heart medication and an inhaler for when her asthma flared up.

They claimed she had a weakened respiratory system and, subsequently, her heart didn't deal well under stress, mostly due to her premature birth.

They were correct.

However, they were entirely wrong when they sent you all home with a tub of medicine and advice to lower any potential stressors around her.

Harry remembers scoffing to himself; she was one, what could possibly be stressing her that much?

Apparently, a lot of things.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

There's truly nothing better.

Auriele,

I understand completely about any emotion feeling refreshing. For a while, I felt immune to it. I cried and I got angry, but nothing ever really set in.

I'm thankful that I can feel now and it doesn't destroy me.

You're not at all a bad person, or a bad parent. Often, I wish I could forget about her. And not just to remove the pain for a day or two. Also, I appreciate the honesty.

Important things must be talked about first. And while this paragraph isn't quite at the top of my letter, it certainly is my most admiritive.

You're so, so unbelievably beautiful. Even more so, now.

Your eyes are still paradise. That picture is stuck onto the cork board in the kitchen forever.

We did absolutely everything in our power to help our baby. As soon as we noticed an issue, we took her to the hospital. Maybe they accidentally underestimated her condition, maybe they just assumed it'd be treated with that medication.

Either way, we helped her as much as we could. And you were, are, and always will be the most incredible mother.

Meline was lucky, truly. She loved you so much.

As it turns out, life can be our greatest enemy. It's difficult to control and even harder to accept, but everything happens for a reason, I suppose.

Leon and Aline sound wonderful. I know it's not my place, but tell them I said thank you for being there for you? You don't have to.

I've never known someone deserve a full, healthy life more than our sweet girl, and it's an injustice to steal that opportunity from her at such a young age.

She would've been two next week. I'm sure you don't need reminding, but I'm still trying to handle my feelings about it. I already know her birthday is going to be the worst day since she died.

Meline Risette Styles deserves the world, as do you. Please don't be afraid to take it. You've earned it.

Her name still brings me so much joy; little honey, pleasant little laugh. It was such an apt description, in her short life.

Life can always take more, but it gives things that are so wonderful. Sois optimiste.

Tout mon amour et câlins, Harry x

wattpad:

#harry styles #letters #heartbreak #sad books #harry

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arethereanyoriginalusernames · 5 years

Text

Top 5 underdeveloped ZP characters

Requested by @pink-wants-to-die

Disclaimer because yes. Zoophobia is owned by our Lord and Savior Vivziepop. This list is my own bothersome opinion. If you disagree, that's great. If you can, tell me your thoughts on the topic. All I ask of everyone is that they be civil to one another, no matter how they react to this list.

First, let's define what I mean by underdeveloped. By this statement, I mean that a character feels like they were rushed or lazily made with not much effort. Now, does this mean that this was actually the case? No. I'm sure some of these characters Vivz believes she's put a lot of thought into them. I'm just saying these characters feel lazily done. Either they didn't live up go hype and expectations encouraged by Vivz, or they underperformed for their role. We good? Let's go....

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DM 1: Mackenzie

Look, I love Mackenzie, she is a pure child who needs a god damn hug, but I can't dry she's mainly just the stereotypical bullied girl character. I've said in the past that tropes aren't a bad thing on there own. However, as with many things, there are was to do them right and ways to do them wrong. The best way to go about them is to add your own flavor to them, give them something that stands out. Mackenzie, however, lacks this. While I admit she's cute and all, I can't deny that a lot of Mackenzie's traits have been copy pasted from other characters like her. If I had to name something I think could end up making her a little different is have her be a rival to Addison somehow. Anybody else notice the parallels going on between her and him? They're both adopted, they're both good at art, they're both introverts, they're both considered freaks, except for whatever reason, Addi gets a bunch of boyfriends and he isn't put down as often as Mackenzie. I feel like this could make for an interesting idea and give Mackenzie more depth beyond "the bullied cutie".

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DM 2: JayJay

So, I'm basically parroting what several have said on JayJay, so I'll keep this brief. For the poster child of zp, JayJay is pretty underwhelming. She's mostly just a party girl with some sprinkles of characters depth. I suspect that JayJay was never planned to be the poster child. She was probably just a character Vivz enjoyed drawing. However, after Die Young sky rocketed her popularity, the demand for more JayJay got high. One thing led to another, and here we are. I'm willing to bet that JayJay was simply meant to be a side character. However, Vivz could at least tried to flesh her out more as she started trying to push Jay to be the poster child.

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5. Kiki

Shout out to @pink-wants-to-die for suggesting this. Also, everybody go follow her and her other account @rzphhs She's a treat.

Ok, so I wasn't around when this character was introduced and hyped up by Vivz. Fortunately, my aforementioned buddy was. She basically summarized what the deal was. So, KiKi was propped up as this super cool, transgender character. That's right, we had a trans character and, from what Vivz was babbling on about, she'd have a solid role in the story, it was gonna be great. At least that was the plan. Then the comic came along, and anybody excited to see this character do some cool shit collectively decided " RIP that dream". For an LGBT character so hyped up to turn out to be nothing more then a gossiping lackey for a school bully is disappointing. Hell, as someone who never heard of KiKi before reading the comic, I didn't even realize KiKi was there the first 5 times. I can only imagine what some dissapointed readers must of felt. Look, if you're going to hype a character up, hype up those that actually have 3 dimensional personalities and aren't card board cutouts is what I'm getting at here.

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4. Rusty

Sooooo, do I even need to ask how many people have already depicted how Rusty is going to progress in the story? It's the same problem with Mackenzie, but it's even worse here. Lemme guess, he's an orphan, secretly gay, takes out his anger on others through bullying, and Will eventually go through a character arc that makes him not a bully? Boom. 5 bottles of maple syrup say I've just accurately depicted Rusty's entire story in zp. Unlike Mackenzie, I can't even predict something that could make him interesting. He's a stereotypical bully just there to make other characters look sympathetic or better.

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3. Tom

I've discussed this guy before, so I'll keep it brief. This guy is litteraly Damian, except with some character traits deleted. And it doesn't work to parallel the characters or anything. Addi and Mackenzie clearly have different traits that makes them unique to one another. Tom does the following : feels lonely, is flirty, possessive, considered creepy, plays a guitar like instrument, has a parent who is an important figure in hell, and is possessive over Addison. All of these Damian also does. Even Tom's design feels lazy, looking like the love child of Ink and Bozzwick. The only unique thing I could find was....he sews. Ok then. I dunno about you guys, but I'm calling lazy on this one.

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2. Cameron

Ok, so Cameron isn't nearly as bad as the previous few, but I put her higher because. ...well, she's the goddamned main character. I feel like we should get to know more about Cam. For instance, why don't we see what's she's like when she's not afraid? We see her being scared and nervous in every appearance she's in. Even before she gets to Safe Haven, she's stressed and worked up. Why not spend some time with her outside of Safe Haven? Is she always neurotic? What do her friends and family think of her zoophobia? I also wished she played more of a role in the comic, as for the most part, she's either forgotten or hidden in the background. Have her actions and decisions affect the story more! Otherwise, why is she there?

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1. Zill

Oh look, salt.

Look, I've gone over several times why Zill annoys me. He's mostly uninteresting. I get it, he's not emotional or anything, he's a laid back bro who plays straight man to several characters. The problem here is actually one he shares with Cam. Despite being important (he's apart of the main cast, he'll be one of the characters we follow most), he doesn't really affect the plot in any way. In his introduction chapter (arc 2), the main conflict isn't his fault. Yes, he's forgetful, but the problem mostly arises from Damian being a sociopath, and everyone just deciding not to mention the anniversary until the day of. It doesn't really come from any fault in Zill's character. He doesn't even really solve the problem either. Kayla just has a convenient change of heart, and Vegenza just randomly shows up. It seems like there are definitely things planned for Zill, what with his species being a mystery, and the story questioning his and Kayla's relationship, but he doesn't have any real character beyond cool bro. His stories come from stuff just happening to him out of contrivance, and he doesn't really affect it. And since he's someone we're going to follow for a good portion of zp, he needs to be better.

So what do you guys think? I hope you enjoyed!

I apologize for wasting your time.

- ATOUN

#zoophobia

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