#one day ill plan my posts better since its midnight but i have a feeling yall are gonna eat this up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whitttbit · 3 years

Text

Hawks x reader lemon An acceptable apology and an unexpected visit.

Warnings: This is absolute filth. Extreme dom hawks with spanking,Dom sub dynamics,a dash of angst, office smut, and just general smut. It's my first fic so try not to judge to harshly. If you guys enjoy it I'll open requests and do more. Ps: I am incredibly nervous posting this.

You've been warned:

Dating a pro hero was never easy. They were always busy with paperwork, patrols or undercover missions. Dating the number 2 pro hero was damn near impossible. Somehow though, here you were sitting in a shapartment waiting on the winged hero to get home. Hawks was charismatic and energetic and that definitely translated to the bedroom. The sex was phenomenal and the love was passionate. He was always bringing you gifts and when he found the time he would plan out elaborate dates for the two of you that were thoughtful and fun. Lately though he had been working overtime investigating the LOV in anticipation of an attack. He wouldn't get in until long after you'd fallen asleep. He would then leave before you woke up with a gentle shake and apologetic kiss on the forehead. The commission had given him a positively brutal schedule and he hadn't had a day off in over a month since accepting the mission.

You were trying your best to stay awake but sleep finally won you over and you had drifted off to sleep on the sofa. The hero had planned to be home for dinner but ended up sending an apology text last minute after receiving some new Intel on the case. As you drifted into the welcoming arms of your slumber the dinner you had spent hours making was still on the table. It had long since gotten cold but you hadn't been able to bring yourself to put it away. It was well after midnight when the hero finally landed on the balcony of the penthouse, shaking the snow from his tired wings and sliding the door open. He glanced around and his eyes landed on your silhouette on the couch wrapped in a blanket. Sighing he turned to grab something quick to eat from the kitchen and saw the table set for two. His gut tensed and he felt the sense of guilt that he had become all to familiar with.

"damn....." He mumbled as he started to clear the table putting the delicious looking food into Tupperware and loading the dishwasher. Once everything was clean he walked quietly over to you and scooped you up taking you to your shared bed. He knew he'd have to make it up to you somehow but all he could think of right now was sleep.

Five thirty had come far to soon for Keigos liking as he slammed his hand onto the alarm clock by your bed. He stood up and showered and got ready to go back to work. You began to wake as he left the bathroom and the florescent light hit your eyes. Sleepily you groaned and looked at him in his hero costume ready to leave you yet again.

"Kei?"

"Shit! sorry angel I was trying to be quiet. Go back to sleep, Ill text you around lunch." He walked over and gave you a deep apologetic kiss as he tucked the blankets around you.

" You have to work again? Its Sunday and you said you might be able to get off."

" I know but I've got to complete the paperwork today and its a mountain on my desk. I'm sorry. I should be off someday soon though and ill make it up to you."

" You always say that." You hadn't meant for it to come out so harshly but you were sleepy and annoyed. Keigo blinked and stared at you for a moment before finally speaking.

" I know angel but the mission is almost over. It's literally just paperwork. I've gathered all of the Intel that the commission requested."

"Fine. Ill see you tonight I guess." You rolled over feeling slightly guilty at how cold your words had been. Sighing Keigo walked out to the balcony and headed to his office across the city.

You awoke a few hours later and went into the kitchen to get breakfast. You saw your phone on the counter and saw that he had texted.

BIRDBOY: You awake love?

You hastily typed a quick message.

Y/N: Yes, do you want me to bring you lunch?

BIRDBOY: No, I don't really have time I've got a budget conference call at lunch and still have to complete my reports.

God, why did he even bother texting you back. He might as well be dating the commission. Then a thought popped into your head. It was kind of mean but he deserved it. You took off your leggings and t-shirt and threw on some red lacy panties he had bought you for Christmas and a matching bra and tousled your hair a bit snapping a quick aerial picture.

Y/N: But I miss you daddy...

*attachment*

You sat on the couch eagerly waiting for him to reply. It took a few minutes and he had started typing and stopped several times.

BIRDBOY: Angel, what are you doing? You know not to send me pictures at work. It's not nice to get daddy worked up before a business call.

Y/N: Well its not nice to leave me this wet either.

You knew that you were pushing it. His daddy kink always put him in his dom head space and testing him wasn't always a good thing. He could be positively relentless with his punishments if you went to far.

BIRDBOY: You are pushing it baby.

Y/N: Well you aren't here so I guess ill just have to take care of it myself.

You knew that would do it. He was going to lose it, but still you had already hit send so no turning back now

BIRDBOY: Don't you fucking dare. You know the rules! Don't test me darling.

You left him on read and went to the bedroom to grab some black thigh high stockings and a garter belt. Putting on some heels and a long pea coat. This was possibly the gutsiest thing you'd ever done but you were going to pack up last nights dinner and take it to him at work. He deserved to suffer a little bit after all. Grabbing a scarf you hailed a cab and made your way to the office ignoring your phone which was buzzing with angry texts at your lack of response no doubt.

As you pulled up to the tall silver building you felt yourself getting more and more nervous. You were practically naked under a coat and going to your boyfriends job. This was dangerous and uncharted territory. Keigo always took his job so seriously. As you watched the floor number flash on the screen in the elevator you felt more anxious. Finally it dinged and the doors slid open. You made your way to his secretaries desk. Clearing your throat.

"Hi Jamie....um I brought Hawks lunch" She beamed up at you and tapped her desk.

"He is about to be on a call, if you leave it here ill make sure that he gets it." Part of you wanted to do it. Somehow you mustered up some nerve though.

" Um.... actually I was hoping to give it to him myself.....we were planning on eating together. Ill just sit quietly in his office until hes done. He's expecting me." You looked at her praying that she wouldn't check.

" Oh! okay he must have forgotten to tell me, go on in." Oh thank god, You walked to the big steel door and turned the handle. Walking in you saw him staring at papers and biting a pen. He didn't even look up.

"Jamie, I'm about to be in a meeting whats up?"

You cleared your throat and waited. He looked up and dropped the pen staring.

" I um...brought you lunch"

" Angel, I told you I couldn't have lunch today what are you doing here?" He studied your body like a predator shaking and looking down you began to speak.

" Um.....well..... I thought id just bring it I can go. " Placing the basket on the ground you turned finally losing nerve. What were you thinking. Coming to his office like this? In a flash of crimson he was over to you grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. He cupped you chin forcing you to look up into his golden irises as he spoke.

"I told you to stay home and wait. Impatient are we?" you grabbed the buttons of your coat to keep him from discovering your secret and kept eye contact trying not to break.

" I just want you to eat that's all you jerk."

"Tch- So disrespectful, its sir or daddy not jerk. Now go sit on the couch until after my meeting. It seems we need to have a little chat, and since you can't seem to respond to my texts or use proper honorifics today you'll have to spend that time coming up with a damn good reason I shouldn't teach you a lesson when we get home." He smirked and pointed to the bright red couch on the opposite side of his office and turned to sit back at his desk.

What a cocky asshole. He was so full of himself sometimes. Still though considering everything you'd done already you figured that you better not push it so reluctantly you complied.

" Good girl. Now don't you dare move a muscle until I finish this call do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes....sir."

He smiled as his phone rang. He took the call and began going over expense and damage reports.

-One hour later-

You had been sitting here for an hour. This asshole had had several openings to end the call but he just kept talking. He would smirk at you every time. God this was torture. Why did he have to be such an ass sometimes? Finally after the fourth opening to wrap things up and he refused you decided that he deserved to suffer. He had told the guy on the phone to go over the quarterly reports one more time for his notes so you knew you had time. You stood up and his eyes darted to you and narrowed.

Slowly you undid the tie of your coat and unbuttoned it revealing your bright red lingerie and smiled at him. His eyes went so big you had to smile. You laid back on the couch and began to stroke your folds throwing your head back. You felt those golden orbs on you. suddenly you felt a feather wrap your wrists. Jerking your head up you saw him crook his finger. The feather began to pull you towards him....oh shit.

You made it to his desk and he sent one feather to lock the door and the other to sharpen and cut off your panties. He bit his lip looking at you. Reaching to the phone he hit mute.

" Now, since you don't know how to listen today here's whats going to happen." He began unbuckling his belt.

" You are going to come over here and sit that pretty little pussy on my cock and you aren't going to move or make a sound until daddy is done with his phone call got it?" He shimmied his cargo pants down revealing his throbbing cock. Gulping you looked at him

"....yes daddy....I won't make a sound."

"Good girl now come on." You shuffled over straddling his lap and lowered yourself onto his cock. He reached over to unmute the call.

The call went on talking about numbers and deadlines for a few minutes and you could feel your resolve slowly crumbling. He reached his hand between you and began lazily rubbing your clit as he continued the call. You had to bite your lip to keep the moans from escaping. You shifted your weight a bit and you felt him throb inside of you. He gave you a dangerous look and you stilled instantly. He began vigorously rubbing your sensitive nub. Fuck this man was the devil. Biting his shoulder you could feel tears welling up. You had to get some relief. This was absolute torture.Fuck you were going to cum. You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped as you felt yourself nearing the edge. His ministrations abruptly stopped as he grabbed a fistful of your h/c hair and yanked your head back.

" Everything okay Hawks?" what was that?" the gentleman on the line asked. He looked at you with rage and replied.

" Everything is fine sir, I just got a paper cut. Listen, I think I've got what I need for now so why don't I finish these reports and call you tomorrow afternoon?"

" Sounds good we'll talk then." Keigo clicked the phone off and forced you to meet his gaze again.

" I said not to make a sound y/n. You are being such a brat today." whimpering apologetically you looked at him. Rolling his eyes he yanked you off of him by your hair and bent you over his desk displaying you perfectly. Kicking your legs apart he leaned down over your back and bit the shell of your ear and growled . You let out another involuntary whimper

" Does my angel want to cum?" you nodded feeling yourself turning to jello beneath him.

" I can't fucking hear you slut."

"...yes sir" was all that you could choke out

" Not good enough. Lets teach you some manners first." He reached over to his phone and hit the speed dial for his secretary.

"yes sir?"

" Jamie, why don't you head out to lunch for a bit on me. Use the company card. We both deserve a break. I'm going to eat here with y/n."

" Thank you sir! I've been wanting to try that new sushi place!"

"Knock yourself out, you deserve it." He clicked the phone and listened until he heard her gather her things and go.

" Don't fucking move." He reached down and you heard him rustling with his clothes. Something dropped next to your face and your eyes shot open. His belt was displayed right next to your face. Leaning down again he spoke.

"Now princess you are going to count for daddy got it? You'll get five with my hand for sending me that photo, Five with my feather for not texting me back, and five with my belt for being a needy brat during my call and not listening. Do you understand?" You could feel yourself shaking.

" ..Ye..yes daddy."

A harsh slap echoed as her hit your ass with incredible force.

"o....one" you cried another slap echoed through the office

"Tu...two" the next three came so quickly you could barely keep count. There was no way to anticipate his pattern. You could feel your ass stinging already.

"Three.......fo...four...FIVVEEEEE!!!!!"

He smirked pulling out a feather and hardening it into a makeshift switch and backing up to admire his handy work. Bright red hand prints covered your ass. He Pulled back and hit you with his feather causing your entire body to lurch forward onto the desk with force.

"FUCK! one." With a swish he landed another on your thigh

"TWO!!!" It was like he was hitting you harder with each go. The last three caused more tears to obscure your vision. Dreading what was next you saw the blurred outline of the belt slide off of the desk.

" Last set angel, You okay? Remember the safety colors? Where are we at?" You felt a rush of relief as you heard the concern in his voice. Green meant good yellow slow down and crimson (your safe word) full stop. You and he both knew he'd never been this rough so he was checking in.

"st...still green daddy...g..green." You stuttered out.

" Good girl" he praised

"Okay, lets continue." He folded the belt in half an pulled back to take aim.

SNAAAAPPPPP!

The belt hit your ass ...hard.

"One" you felt so raw beneath him shaking and numb from the sting.

The rest of the hits echoed and caused you to melt into a puddle beneath him. Cunt practically drooling from pleasure and pain. He dropped the belt and positioned himself. Cock pulsating as he grabbed your hips he spoke.

" Color angel?" Eager to come you answered instantly

"Green."

" If you want it fucking beg. Beg like the needy slut you are beg for me right fucking now"

" Puh...please daddy I need it. Please fill me up I can't take it anymore" He smiled and shoved his full length in with a thrust and began to relentlessly pound you into the desk. His pace was brutal but it was like he was hitting every single nerve. A knot starting to form in your abdomen you started to whimper.

" Can I cum daddy PLEASE!!!!!!! Oh my god!" you were begging trying desperately to hold it in. He would be so angry of you came without permission.

" No." he said simply as he continued his assault

You bit your arm closing your eyes.

"Please.....daddy please." You were a blubbering mess but you didn't care you needed release.

"NOW!" he yelled. With a scream you came with him Your walls fluttering as his seed filled you with pulsating rhythmic thrusts. Collapsing on top you sweaty and spent. You both laid there in a perfect heap of ecstasy and release.

After a few minutes he picked you up and released your hands carrying you over to the couch. HE sat down placing you in his lap and began stroking your hair.

" You did so well angel. So perfect for me." he cooed all you could manage was a hum.

" I'm sorry love, i'll take tomorrow off for a personal day. I know its hard but I love you and you are so amazing for sticking with me. I love you so much." He smiled.

Sending a feather to his mini fridge to get a bottle of water he unscrewed the top and handed it to you.

"Drink this angel." You felt the cool liquid slide down your throat steadying you and bringing you back down.

"How about I take the rest of the day off. I'll fly us home, run us a bubble bath and we can order some take out from your favorite place and watch a movie. How does that sound love?"

" That sounds perfect." You rasped out

"I'm so sorry my love. I hope you can forgive me."

"I should visit more often for apologies." You said with a smile. Nestling into his chest. Everything was perfect.

#pure filth #i have no explanation #bnha smut #hawks smut dom #don't judge me okay

60 notes · View notes

inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 years

Text

Eccentricity [Chapter 14: Love Keeps The Monsters From Our Door] [Series Finale]

A/N: Thank you for your encouragement, enthusiasm, laughter, rants, screeches of anguish, and unapologetic thirsting for “sexy undead Italian man” Joseph Francis Mazzello. I hope you love this conclusion more than Baby Swan loves pineapple pizza. 💜

Series Summary: Potentially a better love story than Twilight?

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “Til I Die” by Parsonsfield. (The #1 song I associate with this fic!)

Chapter Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 7.7k.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence @some-major-ishues @haileymorelikestupid @youngpastafanmug @simonedk @rhapsodyrecs

Mercy

We have to stay in the Vladivostok palace until her transformation is complete, and I hate it.

The floors are cold and sterile and every clang of noise ricochets off them like a bullet. The earth outside is stripped bare and hibernal. There is no green to interrupt the bleakness of the sky, the cruel absence of color: no spruces or hemlocks or bigleaf maples, no evergreen forests, no verdant fields, only a grey that bleeds from the sky in sheets of hail and driving rain. This land is a stranger. So many of the faces, too, are strangers, although they try. Honora sits with me—her large dark eyes, like mirrors of mine, polished and wet with aching pity—and braids my hair. Morana invites me to bake homemade bread with her. Austin tries to make me smile. Cato visits me as much as he can, because he feels responsible; or maybe he would do it anyway, maybe lessening suffering is as instinctual to him as bloodshed is to so many of our kind. And when Cato is with me, I do feel a little better, like my story might belong to somebody else, like it’s a name I can’t quite remember, like it’s a transitory moment of déjà vu I can catch glimpses of but never touch. And yet, still, I send him away.

I don’t want to be with Cato. It’s painful for him to be around me, I can see that. It’s painful for Rami, and for Ben, and for Joe, and for Lucy and Scarlett. It’s even painful for the Irish Wolfhounds that Cato found locked up for safekeeping in Larkin’s study; they skulk around the palace vigilantly but leave great swaths of uninterrupted space around me like open water. So I conjure up a mask of brave, hopeful acceptance and wear it everywhere I go.

Joe says very little, never leaves the girl he calls Baby Swan’s side, dabs her scorching skin with washcloths soaked in ice water and murmurs in sympathy when she screams through the unconsciousness, from beneath the ocean of fire we all know so well. He nods off sometimes, snatching minutes of sleep like fireflies in a jar, before jolting awake to make sure her heart is still beating. When Ben isn’t checking on them, he’s with Cato, helping to draw up plans for the future, reminiscing about the past with slick eyes and clinking midnight glasses of whiskey. Scarlett sprawls across the desk in what was once Larkin’s study and spends hours on the phone with Archer as she gazes up at the ceiling, telling him how to care for the farm animals and the garden, reassuring him that we’ll be home soon, whispering things to him that I try not to hear; and I know she wouldn’t want me to anyway. Lucy weeps delicate, ceaseless tears as she perches on the staircase landing and Rami entombs her in his arms, never having to ask what she needs from him. And I wander meaninglessly through the echoing, unfamiliar hallways like a moon without a planet.

I know what they all think about me, perhaps even Rami, for I keep it buried as deep as all skeletons should be: that I’m irrevocably kind, effortlessly forgiving. That I’m as incapable of bitterness as I am of aging. But they’re wrong. It’s a choice, and it always has been, ever since a late-November dusk in 1864 when madness eclipsed mercy. Every day I choose whether to surrender to the beckoning, malignant hatred that lurks in the back of my bedroom closet, in the dusty and ill-lit loft of the barn roped with cobwebs, in the twilight tree line of the western hemlocks crawling with shadows that whisper through fanged teeth. Every day I decide whether to become a monster. And it has never been harder to remember why I don’t.

My future is unimaginable. The nights are endless. I feel black, razored seeds of what I am horrified must be bitterness burrowing beneath my skin and taking root there. I am consumed by infected, fruitless questions that I can’t silence: Why Gwilym? Why Arthur? Why Eliza and Charlotte? Why is it always fire?

The first words that Gwilym ever spoke to me, as I unraveled from unconsciousness under a grove of sycamore trees with smoke still clinging to my unscarred skin, rattle around in my skull like windchimes beneath thunderous skies. His voice was colored with an accent I couldn’t place, and yet it sounded like home: You’re in a dark place right now. But you don’t have to stay there.

That might have been true once. That might have been true in the ruinous autumn of 1864. But now I can’t find my way out.

Seventy-three hours after our arrival in this barren corner of the world, Charlie Swan’s daughter wakes up as a vampire. Her heart is perfectly still, her skin faultless, her senses sharp, her mind as impenetrable as ever; at least, that’s what Lucy says when she finds me. And Lucy tugs at my hand, wearing her first smile in days, insisting that I have to come meet the newest member of our coven, to welcome her. I don’t know how to tell Lucy that I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to love this girl, that I don’t have it in me to love anyone but ghosts. And yet—compliantly, yieldingly, expecting nothing but disappointment in the monster I have become—I follow her.

The door is already open to the Swan girl’s room; chattering, beaming vampires flood in and out like the tides. I step inside. And I see the way that Joe looks at her, the way that Ben does; and all those seeds that I had feared might be bitterness blossom into nothing but open air.

It’s Not A Fucking Wedding (A.K.A. 13.5 Months Later)

The ocean is a universe. Its arms are not ever-expanding, spiraling galaxies of suns and planets and nebulae and black holes, this is true; its belly is not a vacuum of inhospitable oblivion, its bones are not invisible strings of gravity, its language is not a silence older than starlight, older than eternity. But the ocean is a universe nonetheless, its borders tucked neatly around the seven continents, slumbering there until the next hurricane or tsunami or ice age comes conquering; and inevitably equilibrium is restored—like defibrillator paddles to a heart, like naloxone to an addict’s blood—and our two worlds can coexist side by side once again.

The ocean’s arms are sighing waves, bubbling and brisk, grasping and retreating in the same breath. Its belly is swollen with life from immense blue whales down to swarming clouds of single-celled, sun-hungry phytoplankton. Its language is ancient whispers; not parched and blistering and brittle sounds like the desert’s but cool, serene, supple, engulfing. And I can hear them all, if I listen closely enough. I can hear the sentient whistling of orcas, the breaking of waves against rocks, the scrabbling of sand crabs beneath the earth, the gruff distant barks of sea lions, the rustling of evergreen pine needles in the breeze. And I understand now why it was always so easy for vampires to be introspective, to lapse into thoughtful, unhurried silences. I could imagine spending decades just sitting here with my knees tucked to my chest and my hair whipping in the brackish wind, watching the seasons roll by like a wheel.

Joe was coming back from the gravel parking lot. I turned to watch him: red U Chicago hoodie, messy dark auburn-ish hair, a pizza box clasped in his hands. The GrubHub delivery driver was returning to his car with the toothiest of grins.

“Buon appetito!” Joe announced, dramatically presenting me with the pizza box. It had become our post-finals tradition each semester: pizza at La Push beach, half-pepperoni, half-pineapple.

“Grazie, sexy undead Italian man. Your accent is getting so good!”

“I know, right?! I’m on a twelve-day Duolingo streak. I can’t let that little green owl dude down.”

“I’m impressed, I’ll admit it. I gotta brush up on my Welsh. Why’s the GrubHub driver so cheery?”

“I tipped him $500.”

I smiled, opening the box and lifting out a semi-warm slice of pineapple pizza. Elastic strands of mozzarella cheese stretched like rubber bands until they snapped. “Aww, really?”

Joe plopped down onto the cool, damp sand beside me. “No. I lied. We’re actually having a torrid love affair.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “How could you possibly have time for all that?” Between school, business ventures, family activities, and me, Joe was very rarely unoccupied. And he preferred it that way.

“I’m so glad you asked. I’m very speedy, if you recall. And that’s just one of the exclusive services I offer. I am a man of many talents. I make people’s wildest dreams come true. Who am I to deny the GrubHub delivery man the wonderland that is my spindly, annoying body?”

“You are the fastest,” I said, winking.

“Oh shut up! I mean, uh, uhhh, silenzio!” He pointed his slice of pepperoni pizza at me reproachfully. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not the fastest at everything.”

“Whatever you say, mob guy.”

He lunged for me, pinned me down in the crumbling sand, both of us laughing wildly as the crusts of our pizza slices bounded off and were snatched up by diving, screeching seagulls. He growled with mock savagery, braced his hips against mine, kissed his way from the corner of my jaw to my lips. That oh-so-familiar commanding, craving ache for him came roaring to the surface; and now there was no bittersweet edge to it, no inescapable backdrop of lambent numbers ticking down from five or ten or fifteen years to zero. Now there was only the calm, unurgent promise of forever.

“Joe—!”

“You have besmirched my honor, Baby Swan. I am left with no recourse but to refresh your clearly flawed memory and prove you wrong.”

“Public indecency? That’s illegal, sir.”

“Okay, you gotta stop stealing my catchphrases. It’s extremely difficult for me to come up with new ones. I’m almost a hundred years old, you know.”

“Alright, I guess you’re not bad in bed for a basically-centenarian.”

He smiled down at me, his dark eyes alight, the wind tearing through his hair, one palm resting on my forehead, uncharacteristically quiet.

“What?” I asked, worried.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just really glad we’re a thing.”

“You better be. You’re kind of stuck with me now. You’ve stolen my virtue, you’ve made me fall in love with your entire demented family, you’ve forced your torturous immortality upon me. I’m not going anywhere. Unless you ever stop funding my pineapple pizza addiction, of course.”

Joe chuckled as he climbed off me and took my hand in his, pulling me upright. “It’s absolutely ridiculous, by the way. Your insistence on being a sort-of vegetarian. It’s embarrassing. You’re the wimpiest vampire ever. You’re a disgrace to the coven.”

“I eat animals!” I objected.

“Yeah, when you have to.” And Joe was right: I steered clear of flesh outside of the two or three times a week when I hunted. For environmental sustainability reasons, I mostly consumed deer or rabbits; although the very occasional shark was my guilty pleasure. Joe gnawed on his second slice of pizza and peered out into the overcast, dusky horizon, wiping crumbs from his stubbled chin with the back of his hand. “We only have one more of these left,” he said at last, a little sadly. “One more finals season at Calawah University. One more celebratory dinner at La Push.”

“We’ll just have to get used to a new view. Pizza by the Chicago River, maybe.”

Joe looked over at me, thoughtful again, smiling. He had received his acceptance letter to the University of Chicago three weeks ago. I got mine eight days later. “It won’t be hard for you to leave Forks?”

“It will be. Once upon a time I didn’t think that was possible, but I will miss Forks. And not just because of Charlie and Archer and Jessica and Angela and all the Lees. But it was hard to leave Phoenix, and I’m sure one day it will be hard to leave Chicago. Just because change is hard doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.”

Joe nodded introspectively. “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

“Don’t quote classic rock songs at me, mixtapes boy.”

“You love my mixtapes,” he teased, circling his left arm around my waist, pulling me in closer, touching his lips to my forehead. Mint and pine and starlight sank into my lungs like an anchor through the surf. “And that saying actually goes all the way back to Seneca, my dear.”

“Don’t tell me he’s still philosophizing in some cloudy corner of the world somewhere.”

“Not to my knowledge. Although that’s an intriguing thought. We need more famous vampires. Caligula would have made for very interesting conversation. Lincoln, Napoleon, Cleopatra, Shakespeare, Dante...I guess it’s possible that anyone is still around. Maybe we should turn Meat Loaf. You know, for the good of posterity.”

“Is it not enough that they’re already cursed with student debt and global warming?”

Joe cackled, took my face in his palms, kissed each of my cheeks one after the other, then nudged my nose with his. “You ready to go, Baby Swan? I suspect we’re expected to participate in some holiday festivities tonight.”

“I’m ready,” I agreed. We threw our leftover pizza to the seagulls, disposed of the grease-spotted cardboard box, and walked back to my 1999 Honda Accord with our pulseless hands intertwined.

The evergreen trees along Routh 110 fled by beneath a sky freckling with stars. Sharp winter air poured in through the open windows. And I could feel that it was cold, in the same way that I could feel the warmth on Forks’ rare sweltering days; but there was no discomfort that accompanied that knowledge. Pain only came when the sky was unincumbered by thick clouds churning in off the Pacific, and then it felt something like staring into the sun had as a human. Sunglasses helped, but the surest remedy was avoidance, was surrender. And what an inconsequential price to pay for forever.

“Wait,” I said, spying the mailbox that marked the start of the Lees’ driveway. “They still deliver mail on Christmas Eve, right?”

“Uh, I think so, why...?” And then he remembered. “Oh, yeah, let’s check!”

I pulled up beside the mailbox and Joe leaned out, returning to his seat with a mountain of Christmas cards and business correspondence and advertisements from Costco and Sephora. He sifted through them until he found a single white envelope from the University of Chicago Pritzker School of Medicine. It was addressed to a Mr. Benjamin August Hardy. Joe held it up to show me as we drove down the driveway, the Lee house coming into view and ornamented with a frankly excessive amount of multicolored string lights and inflatable reindeer.

“Oh my god!” I squealed, drumming the steering wheel.

“You want to be the one to give it to him?”

“Are you serious?! Yeah, can I?”

Joe passed the envelope to me as I parked my geriatric Honda, which Archer had pledged to keep alive as long as physically possible. In return, Ben let him and Scarlett borrow the Aston Martin Vantage no less than once a week. I dashed out of the car, up the steps of the front porch, and into the house that bubbled over with the sounds of metallic kitchen clashes and frenetic voices and Wham!’s Last Christmas.

“Ben?!” I shouted.

“Hi, honey!” Mercy called from the living room, where she and Lucy were putting the final touches on Scarlett’s gown. Scarlett was playing the part of semi-willing victim, wearing gold heels and an impatient smirk and her hair out of the way in a milkmaid braid; her train of vivid red lace billowed across the hardwood floor. From the couch, Archer and Rami were playing Mario Kart on the big-screen tv and nibbling their way through a tray of homemade gingerbread cookies.

“Oh wow,” I said, clutching the envelope to my chest, mesmerized. I kept waiting for Scarlett to start looking like a normal person to me, and it never happened. Tonight, in the glow of the flameless candles and kaleidoscopic Christmas lights and draped in lace the color of pomegranate seeds, she was Persephone: a goddess of resurrection, a face that death himself could not pass by unscathed. “You’ve outdone yourself, Lucy. Seriously.”

“One day I’m going to get you out of those thrift shop sweaters,” Lucy threatened me, placing a pin in the fabric at Scarlett’s waist.

“Yeah, okay. Let me know when that shows up in one of your visions.”

“Bitch,” Lucy flung back, snickering, knowing how improbable that was. I still appeared in her visions extremely infrequently, and then only when I happened to be standing next to whoever the premonition was actually about.

“Language, dear,” Mercy tutted, inspecting the hem of Scarlett’s gown.

Joe arrived beside me, his arms still full of mail. “ScarJo, I almost didn’t recognize you! Why do you have, like, no cleavage or fishnets or thigh slits?”

“Why do you have like no eyelashes?” Scarlett replied. “See, I can ask unnecessary and invasive questions too.”

Joe frowned, wounded. “What’s wrong with my eyelashes?”

“Lucy, darling, I think it’s just a tad uneven on this side,” Mercy said, showing her. “Maybe by half an inch...?”

“No, seriously, what’s wrong with my eyelashes?!”

Mercy replied distractedly: “Nothing, honey, you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Mom!” Joe groaned.

“It really is gorgeous,” Mercy marveled as Lucy flitted around her to investigate the hem situation. “And so Christmasy. So perfect for the season. Scarlett, dear, you were right after all, and I’m so sorry for doubting you. I’d just never heard of a red wedding dress before.”

“Mom, it’s not a fucking wedding!” Scarlett exclaimed, for probably the thirtieth time since Thanksgiving. “It’s a nonbinding, informal celebration of an egalitarian romantic partnership. Will somebody please inform this woman that it’s not a wedding?!”

“Yes, yes, of course, whatever you want, sweetheart,” Mercy conceded dreamily.

Joe pointed to Archer. “Isn’t he supposed to not see the dress until the day of or something?”

“What a great question!” Archer replied, still deeply invested in Mario Kart. “You see, that would be the case if this was a wedding. However, I’ve been informed in no uncertain terms that it is most definitely not.”

Scarlett grinned triumphantly at Joe. “There you have it.”

She might snap petulantly, and she might complain, but Scarlett wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t want to; we were all intimately familiar with the futility of trying to force Scarlett into anything. The not-wedding, as improbable as it seemed, had been her idea from the start. And she wasn’t doing it for herself. She wasn’t even doing it for Archer. Scarlett was doing it for her mother.

The first six months had been hell for Mercy. She didn’t resent me, as I had feared she might; Mercy made that clear, and Rami confirmed it. But she was gutted. She wouldn’t speak of Gwil, wouldn’t listen to us talk about him, locked every photograph of him away in dark drawers, wandered around with a remote, uncanny, unseeing smile until she walked straight into walls; and then she would blink inanely up at them, as if they had dropped out of the sky rather than been built by her own hands. She baked hundreds of cakes and almost never slept. She told us she was fine every time we asked, which was more or less constantly. But on the very rare occasions when she was left alone, Mercy would unfailingly end up in the field behind the Lee house, gazing out into the forest of western hemlock trees with tears snaking silently down her cheeks, the muted light of the cloud-covered setting sun flickering red and furious on her face like wildfire.

And then one afternoon, a package had arrived from Arviat, Canada, where Cato and the rest of the surviving Draghi had relocated shortly after the rebellion at Vladivostok. It was five feet tall and another three wide, and what we found after carefully peeling away all those layers of foam padding and packing tape was a portrait of Gwilym so skillfully painted that it could have been mistaken for a photograph. Mercy had stared at it for a long time—ignoring Lucy’s attempts to guide her away, deaf to any of our concerns—until she at last picked up the portrait herself and said, quite evenly: “I think we should hang it in the living room, don’t you?”

Things had been better since then—very, very gradually, and yet unmistakably—and Gwil’s portrait remained mounted above the living room couch like a watchman, his eyes sparkling and blue, his faint smile stoic and fond and omniscient. But even in the wake of Mercy’s continued improvement, none of us kids were about to risk another agonizingly despondent Christmas. So the solution was obvious. We would keep Mercy preoccupied with what thrilled her more than absolutely anything else: the pseudo-weddings of her children. Rami and Lucy had already secretly volunteered to go next year...and after that, who knew? And there was one other thing that was making Mercy’s burden a little lighter these days.

Charlie sauntered into the living room, wearing an apron covered in cartwheeling Santas and wiping white dust like snow—powdered sugar? flour? baking soda?—from his ungainly hands. He was palpably proud. “The sugar cookies are officially in the oven. And I managed to fit them all on one baking sheet, isn’t that great?! Cuts down on dishes!”

“Why, yes, I suppose it does!” Mercy said, alarm dawning in her eyes. Had my beloved father placed the globs of dough too close together? Would we end up with one hideous, giant monster-cookie? Only time would tell. Providentially, Archer and Joe could be counted on to eat just about anything.

Joe sniffed the air, his forehead crinkling. “What’s burning?”

“Nothing should be burning,” Mercy replied, almost defensive, forever protective of Charlie and all of his profound, incurably human imperfections. Sometimes I thought that she preferred him that way, that he was a link to a simpler world in the same way I had once been, that he was a puddle of memory she could drop into, that maybe he wasn’t so unlike her first husband Arthur. “Not yet, anyway. The cookies need at least ten to twelve minutes at 350.”

“Wait, 350?!” Charlie exclaimed, horrorstruck. “I thought you said 450!”

“Oh, this is tragic,” Scarlett said.

“I can fix it!” Mercy trilled buoyantly, breezing off to the kitchen as Charlie followed after her with a fountain of apologies. She shushed them away affectionately, patting his chest with her soft plump hands, chuckling about how luckily they had fire extinguishers stowed away in almost every closet just in case. And there were other reasons for that besides Charlie’s perilous baking attempts, but he didn’t know them. Now the record player was belting out Queen’s Thank God It’s Christmas.

Archer lost another round in Mario Kart and exhaled a great, mournful sigh. “Hey, Baby Swanpire, can you do something about this guy?” He nodded to Rami. “This is criminal. It’s nowhere near a fair fight. He knows every freaking time I’m about to toss a banana peel.”

Rami smirked guiltily up at me from the couch, not bothering to deny it.

“Do you mind?” I asked him.

“Not at all,” Rami replied. “I want to show this loser I can beat him even without the benefit of mega-cool extrasensory superpowers.”

“Rude!” Archer cried.

“So rude,” Scarlett agreed, smiling.

“Okay, here we go.” I sat down beside Rami, still holding Ben’s envelope in my right hand, and laid my left against Rami’s cheek. And I felt a fistful of numbness—like instant peace, like milk-white Novocain—pass from my skin into his, rolling into his skull, deadening whatever telepathic livewires had been ignited there in the August of 1916. The effect would last anywhere from thirty minutes to a few hours; and it worked on every vampire I’d met so far.

“Whoa, trippy,” Rami murmured. “It’s still weird, every single time.” He peered drowsily around the room. “It’s...so...quiet?! You guys really live like this? No one is constantly bombarding you with sexual fantasies or romantic pining or depressive inner monologues? How do you function?! Now I’m alone with my own thoughts, that’s actually worse!”

“Hurry up and beat him while he’s all freaked out and vulnerable,” Scarlett told Archer.

Archer laughed, picking up his Nintendo 64 controller, radiant with the promise of vengeance. “Yes ma’am.”

“Any good mail?” Lucy asked Joe.

“Yeah. Coupons and a ton of Christmas cards from random people. The vet sent us one with alpacas on it, so that’s cute. Oh, and here’s one from our favorite Canadians.”

Joe held up the card so we could all see. The picture on the front showed Cato and Honora sitting on a large velvet, forest green couch with a hulking Christmas tree illuminated in the background. The others were arranged around them: Austin, Max, Ksenia, Charity, Araminta, Akari, Morana, Phelan, Aruna, Adair, Zora, Sahel, and a few new faces I couldn’t name yet. They were all wearing matching turtleneck sweaters. And every single one of them was smiling.

Joe cleared his throat theatrically and read the text on the inside of the card:

“Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

(Oh, and Scarlett, congratulations on your not-marriage.)

- Cato Douglass Freeman”

“That bastard,” Scarlett muttered.

Rami offered me his controller. He had just slipped on a banana peel and rocketed off a cliff. “You want a turn?”

“No, thanks though. I have to talk to Ben. Is he around?”

Rami shrugged ruefully. “I would help, but my brain is temporarily broken.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes, taking a gingerbread cookie from the tray and biting into it as Lucy batted crumbs from the red lace dress, exasperated. “I think he’s out in the hot tub.”

“Cool. I shall return.”

Joe took my spot on the couch as I departed, shoveling cookies into his mouth, seizing Rami’s controller and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

I opened the door to the back porch, and frigid December air rushed in like an uninvited guest. The field was coated with a thin layer of snow, the animals safe and warm in the barn, the garden slumbering. And in the spring and summer, when blossoms of a dozen different varieties came open beneath the drizzling grey skies, Mercy’s calla lilies didn’t bother my allergies at all. Nothing did anymore. Ben was indeed in the hot tub, puffing on his vape pen, wearing only a beanie hat and swim trunks.

“What flavor is that cartridge?” I asked as I approached. “Gummy bear?”

“Close. Strawberry doughnut.”

“Ohhhh, yum!” Ben passed me the vape pen, and I took a drag as I kicked off my boots and sat near him on the rim of the hot tub, slipping my bare feet beneath the steaming, roiling water. Then I handed his vape pen back. “So. Guess what I have for you.”

“Uh.” He glanced at the envelope. “Jury duty.”

“Better.”

“Someone I hate has jury duty.”

I flipped the envelope around so he could see the University of Chicago logo on the front.

“Oh god,” Ben moaned.

“Don’t you want to see what it says?”

“Not really,” he admitted, grimacing.

“Come on, Ben. Open it.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?!”

Ben sighed. “Look, if I open it and it’s bad news, it’s gonna make Christmas weird. Rami will know. They’ll all know. They’ll all feel bad for me and it’ll be pathetic and depressing and awkward. You can look if you want to, just don’t tell anyone else yet.”

“It’s not going to be bad news,” I said, tugging at the floppy top of his beanie hat. He swatted my hand away, but he was smiling grudgingly.

“You have positively no way of knowing that. Unless Lucy’s had a vision I’m unaware of.”

“She hasn’t. You know she never sees anything important.”

“She saw you coming,” Ben countered.

“She saw human-me and Joe in love and gobbling down pretzels at a Cubs game. So I’d say there were at least a few minor details missing.”

“There’s no way I got in,” Ben said, his green eyes slick and fearful and now fixed on the envelope. “We can’t all be geniuses like you.”

“That’s an unfair accusation. I’m far from genius. I’m just obsessed with the ocean.” I’d written my senior thesis on the feeding habits of Pacific angelsharks, and my advisor was still trying to figure out how I, an amateur scuba diver at best, had managed to get so many quality photographs with my underwater camera. The secret, of course, was superhuman agility and not needing to breathe.

“I fucking hate calculus. The MCAT wrecked me. I got a 517.”

“And their median score is a 519, so I’d say you still have a fighting chance. Plus you have like eight million volunteer hours.” Ben had spent the vast majority of the past year either in class or at the hospital. The psychiatrist-in-chief, Dr. Siegel, had been more than happy to take one of Gwil’s foster children under her wing. Every human in Forks except Archer believed that Dr. Gwilym Lee had drowned in a tragic boating accident while he and Mercy were on vacation in Southern California, and that his body had never been recovered. The town had held a wonderful remembrance ceremony and dedicated a free clinic at the hospital in his honor. “Now open it.”

“You do it,” Ben relented finally. “My hands are wet. Go ahead, open it up and tell me what it says. And then kindly euthanize me to end my immortal shame.”

“That wouldn’t work,” I pointed out, tearing open the envelope. I pulled out the tri-folded piece of paper inside, flattened it against my thighs, and read the typed black text.

“...Well?” Ben pressed, vaping frantically.

I looked up and smiled at him.

“No way,” he whispered.

“I hope you like pretzels and bear-themed baseball teams, grandpa.”

And for a second, I thought he might bolt up out of the hot tub, hooting victoriously, splashing water all over the back porch as he danced around bellowing that he’d gotten into one of the best medical schools in the world, that he would be following me and Joe to Chicago. But that wasn’t Ben. Instead, a slow smile rippled across his face: it was small, but perfectly genuine. Pure, even.

“Goddamn,” he said, watching me. Venom doesn’t just resurrect or ruin; it forms a bond that is simultaneously intangible and yet immense. It’s an evolutionary adaptation, a way to facilitate stability and the building of covens in an often violent and ruleless world. And now that he had turned me, Ben had family here in Forks in more ways than one.

“Gwil would be so proud of you, Ben.”

“I hope so. I really do.”

The back door of the house opened, and Joe stepped outside. He studied Ben for a moment, and that was all it took for him to know. “Benny!” he shouted, elated.

“I know, I know. Fortunately, I look amazing in red. Thanks, supermodel genes.”

“This is going to be so fun!” Joe said, sprinting over to wrap Ben—who was characteristically lukewarm on this whole physical displays of affection business—in a hug from just outside the hot tub. “We’re going to go furniture shopping, and eat deep-dish pizza, and find apartments right next to each other, and mail home Chicago-themed care packages, and get you hooked up with some gorgeous Italian woman...or whatever you like, I guess I shouldn’t assume. Women. Men. Gang members. Marine mammals. Jessicas. Whatever. There are options.”

Ben laughed as he playfully shoved Joe away. “Sounds like a plan, pagliaccio.”

“Oh my god, stop learning Italian without me! You realize you have to tell Mom now.”

“I will,” Ben agreed, with some trepidation. “I’ll wait until after Christmas.”

“It’ll be hard for her,” I said. “But she knows it’s what you want. She knows it’s what’s best for you. So she’ll get through it. I think it would be worse for her if you didn’t get in, if she had to see you unhappy.”

Ben nodded, exhaling strawberry-doughnut-flavored vapor, gazing up at the stars, Orion and Auriga and Lynx and Perseus reflected in his thoughtful jade eyes. “She’ll still have Rami and Lucy and Scarlett here with her. And Archer. And Charlie.”

“Especially Charlie,” Joe said, grinning.

Mercy would have to leave Forks eventually, of course. The Lees had already been here for nearly four years; they could stay another ten, perhaps fifteen at the absolute maximum. And there had been a time when ten or fifteen years seemed like quite a while to me, but now it felt like I could doze off one afternoon and wake up on the other side of it, like swimming a lap in the sun-drenched public pool back in Phoenix. We would find a new home somewhere after Joe and I finished our PhDs, after Ben finished medical school, maybe Vancouver or Buffalo or Amsterdam or Edinburgh or Dublin or Reykjavik. Wherever we went, I hoped it wouldn’t be far from the sea. But Mercy couldn’t bear to leave Forks yet. It was the last home she had shared with Gwil, the last house they would ever build together, and leaving it would make his loss all the more irrevocable. She would be ready to leave someday, but not today.

In the meantime, there would still be visits for breaks and holidays. Scarlett and Archer had the shop to keep them busy, a brand new eight-car garage that held a virtual monopoly on both the Forks and Quileute communities. Lucy had opened a bohemian-style clothing boutique downtown, which confounded most of the locals but attracted more adventurous customers from as far away as Seattle. Rami was interning for a local immigration lawyer and entertaining the possibility of applying to U Chicago’s law school in another few years. And Mercy had the farm; and she had Charlie. He had asked her for cooking lessons to try to help rouse her a few months after Gwil’s death, and it had grown from there. If it wasn’t romantic just yet, I believed it would be soon. And there were moments when I thought my father might have figured something out, when his eyes narrowed and lingered on me just a little too long, when his brow knitted into suspicious, searching lines, when the hairs rose on the back of his neck and some innate insight whispered that we weren’t like him and never could be again. But then he would chuckle, shake his head, and say: “You’ve gotten weird, my gorgeous, brilliant progeny. But Forks looks pretty good on you.”

“Can I talk to you upstairs?” Joe asked me suddenly; and did I see restless nerves flicker in his dark eyes? I thought I did.

“Sure,” I replied, climbing down from the hot tub. “Ben, are you coming inside? My dad is trying to bake Christmas cookies and failing miserably. It’s pretty hilarious. Not that you should be the one to critique other people’s kitchen-related accidents.”

“I do enjoy your company a lot more now that I don’t want to murder you and slurp you down like a Chick-fil-A milkshake,” Ben said. “Yeah, give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.” And as Joe and I headed into the house, I saw Ben pick up the acceptance letter that I’d left on the rim of the hot tub and read it for himself with incredulous eyes, grappling with the irrefutable fact that it was his name on the opening line, that he had somewhere along the way become the sort of man who dedicated his immortality to saving lives rather than ending them.

In the living room, Scarlett was back in her yoga pants and absolutely brutalizing Archer in Mario Kart. Rami and Lucy were entwined together on the loveseat, murmuring, giggling, feeding each other pieces of gingerbread cookies. In the kitchen, Charlie was leading Mercy in a clumsy waltz to Meat Loaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love, and each time he fumbled his steps or mortifyingly trod on her feet she would cry out in a peal of laughter brighter than the sun she had learned to live without. Joe spirited me up the staircase, into his bedroom—which, honestly, was more like our bedroom now, in the same way that my room in Charlie’s house had become Joe’s as well—and closed the door.

“You’re in luck,” he said. “Your dad totally ruined our song. Now I can’t hear it without thinking about some moustached guy in plaid trying to seduce my mom.”

“It’s the best Christmas gift I could ever ask for. Meat Loaf is vanquished. Oh, just so you’re aware, Renee and Paul are getting an Airbnb and coming up for New Years.”

“Cool. Do they still think I have a super embarrassing sunlight allergy and will break into hives and asphyxiate and that’s why we can’t visit them in Florida?”

“Yup.”

“Spectacular. Also, can you please tell me what’s wrong with my eyelashes?”

“They’re just a little sparse, amore. But I still like you.”

“Well, I am only moderately attractive, you know.” Then Joe steeled himself, taking a deep breath. Uh oh. He was definitely nervous. I still couldn’t believe I had the power to make him that way, but here we were. “So I get that we’re doing presents with the whole family tomorrow morning, and you do have some under the tree, so don’t worry about that. But there’s one I wanted to give to you alone. You know. With just us. Without an audience. Or whatever.”

“...Okay...?” A secret gift? A naughty gift? “I hope it’s a new vibrator.”

“Shut up,” Joe begged, laughing. “Here.” He reached into the drawer of his nightstand—our nightstand—and produced a small blue box topped with a turquoise bow. It wasn’t a ring, I was sure of that; I didn’t feel especially attached to the idea of marriage, and neither did Joe to my knowledge. How could rings or papers seal commitment when you already had eternity? I was right: the mysterious present was not a ring. When I removed the lid and emptied the box into my palm, what appeared there was a small plastic airplane.

“What is this?” I asked, amused but puzzled.

“Are you not college educated? It’s a plane.”

“Well, yeah, I can see that. But it’s also like two inches long.” I scrutinized the plane. “Are you magically transforming me into a tiny, tiny, little plastic person? Is that my gift? Because I actually got you something good.” And I really did: there was a collection of vintage Chicago Cubs photographs from the 1910s and 20s downstairs under the Christmas tree, packaged in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer wrapping paper.

“We’re going on a trip,” Joe said, grinning. “The day after Christmas. It’s just a short trip, nothing huge, don’t get too excited, we’re not going to Mt. Everest or Antarctica or anything. I think you’ll still like it. But I don’t want you to know where we’re going until we’re there.”

“How will that work? Considering the tickets and signage and pilot announcements and obnoxiously noisy other passengers and all.”

“ScarJo’s going to fly us.”

“Really?!” We were taking the jet. We almost never used the jet. “What’s in it for Scarlett?”

“She found out that Archer’s never had In-N-Out Burger before and is very much looking forward to initiating him into the cult of deliciousness.”

“Oh nice. I could go for a vanilla milkshake myself, now that Ben mentioned them.”

“Obviously I’m gonna buy you all the milkshakes and animal-style fries you want. Bankrupt me, bitch. But we have to get one other thing taken care of first.”

“So it’s somewhere they have In-N-Out Burger...” I pondered aloud. California? Texas? Las Vegas? I felt a brief but unambiguous pang of homesickness for Phoenix. But there was nothing there for me anymore.

“Stop,” Joe pleaded. “I’m sorry. I’ve already said too much. Please forget that. Get a traumatic brain injury or oxygen deprivation or something.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m rather indestructible at the moment.”

He smiled wistfully. “I wouldn’t want you to be any other way.”

There was laughter downstairs in the living room. I could detect the aroma of a fresh batch of sugar cookies baking in the kitchen, mingling with the cold night air and pine trees and peppermint candy canes. I loved Christmas. The entire world smelled like Joe. The U Chicago décor, classic rock posters, and Italian flag were now interspersed with National Geographic pages and photos of the two of us together. The Official Whatever You Want Pass hung in a small, square picture frame on the wall above Joe’s bed. Our bed.

“How real is it, Joe?” I asked quietly. I climbed onto my tiptoes, linking my hands around the back of his neck with the tiny plane still tucked between my fingers. “Seriously. The wishes thing.”

“The world may never know. Akari never met me as a human, so she wouldn’t be able to say. But if I had to place a bet...” He shrugged, grinning craftily. “Kinda real. Kinda not real. Just like vampires, I guess.”

“I am alarmingly glad that you’re real, mob guy,” I said, abruptly somber. “I never thought I’d meet someone who saw me as remarkable, who could make me see myself that way. And it’s miraculous. And it’s terrifying too, honestly. Being a thing with you. Falling for someone you could have for centuries and lose in a second.”

“It’s the scariest thing there is,” Joe concurred, taking my hand to lead me back downstairs.

Joseph

Scarlett looks like a goddess, and she knows it. But she’s not one of those magnanimous, fragile, harp-plucking, pastel-colored goddesses. She’s ferocity and wildness and crimson like blood, and that’s exactly why Archer loves her. And as they stand in front of the Christmas tree with their hands clasped together—ivory on bronze, snow on sun—with matching sprigs of holly in Scarlett’s hair and pinned to the jacket of Archer’s suit, reciting truths but no promises, I can’t help but watch the other faces in the room: Rami, Lucy, Ben, Charlie, Mom with her beaming smile and shining eyes, the woman I met sixteen months ago and now can’t fathom life without. And it occurs to me for the first time that love, in its cleanest form, isn’t something that changes people as much as it allows them to become who they truly are.

On the evening of December 26th, as soon as the sun dips beneath the western horizon, we board the jet in the Forks Airport hangar. It’s much easier for Scarlett to fly at night; otherwise she has to wear two or three pairs of sunglasses on top of each other, and even then it’s still painful, it still feels like blinding needles burrowing into the jelly of her retinas. That’s not a wrench in my plans or anything. It needs to be night where we’re going, too.

Vampire hyper-acuity notwithstanding, FAA regulations require Scarlett to have a copilot, so Archer joins her in the flight deck with his newly-minted license and spends most of the journey flipping through the latest issue of Motor Trend. As we begin our descent, he peeks back at us and teases: “It’ll be your turn eventually, guys. Scarlett and I did our time. Rami and Lucy can go next year. And after that...unless Ben happens to find someone worthy of a not-wedding...” He wiggles his black eyebrows.

“Bring it on,” I reply casually. “Fake wedding are my jam. It’ll be ocean themed. Or Roaring ‘20s themed. And we’ll all do the Cha-Cha Slide in the living room and shame Ben as a bonding activity.”

“Mercy can set up a mashed potatoes bar,” Baby Swan adds.

“Yeah. With pineapple.”

“No. Not on potatoes.”

“Yes on potatoes.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Too late,” I tell her, touching my lips to the knuckles of her cool, steady hand.

We touch down at a small noncommercial airport just outside the city, and Scarlett and Archer stay back to secure the plane as Baby Swan follows me outside. And she realizes where we are as soon as the wind hits her, as soon as her eyes soak up the sand and cacti and cloudless night sky like rain swallowed up by parched earth.

“Phoenix,” she whispers, smiling like a child.

“But wait, there’s more!” I announce in my best Billy Mays voice. I take the little glass bottle from my pocket, walk across the runway to the naked desert, crouch down when I find a suitable spot, and fill the bottle with dry, sandy earth that crumbles in my palms. Then I seal the bottle with a tiny cork and bring it back to give it to her.

“I know what it’s like to have to leave home,” I say. “You’ve had to say goodbye to Phoenix, and soon you’ll have to say goodbye to Forks, and next will be Chicago, on and on forever. You’ll always be leaving the places you learn to call home. Every five or ten or fifteen years, we start over again. Like a snake shedding its skin, like a hermit crab swapping shells. Like the water that travels from rain to seawater to mist and then back again. But now you can always have a little piece of home with you, and maybe that will make it easier.”

She takes the glass bottle and shakes her head in disbelief, in wonder. Because this is exactly what she wanted, what she needed, even if she didn’t know it yet. “Joe...how did you...?”

“What’d I tell ya? I’m a talented guy. Now you have to dance with me.”

She laughs. “Oh no. Hard pass. I don’t dance.”

“When we’re alone in my bedroom you do. So just pretend we’re alone now. In, like, a really really spacious, sandy bedroom. With probably some lizards.”

“Fine. But only because I’m willing to degrade myself for milkshakes.”

She slides the glass bottle of Arizona earth into her pocket and takes my hands. She’s still a pretty terrible dancer, honestly. She hasn’t lost that. And I love that about her. I love damn near everything about her. And it took me a long time to figure out what exactly her subtle yet peerless cocktail of fragrance is, because it wasn’t somewhere I’d ever been. The scent that drifts from her pores—the scent that now lives in my bedsheets like a shadow or a ghost—is sunlight and heat and clarity and resilience and wisdom older than the pyramids. Her scent is the desert.

Now she’s mischievous, her eyes gleaming with the reflections of the Milky Way and the full moon and the stars that are dead and yet eternal, just like us. “So what, you think you’re Vampire Boyfriend Of The Year material now or what? Some dirt and In-N-Out Burger? That’s the height of your game? Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my perpetual existence? I totally should have pursued that polyamorous triad with Scarlett and Archer when I had the chance—”

“Yeah,” I say, very softly, smiling, tilting up her chin to kiss her beneath the universe and all its eccentricities. “I love you too.”

59 notes · View notes

spacebeyonce · 3 years

Text

this wip wednesday post is for @ride-the-bifrost specifically. because they asked for a sorikai body art au ages ago, and I’m finally working on it but it’s since went and morphed into a mash up of florist/tattoo parlor au meets urban fantasy. I mentioned it uhhh last week? I think?

but anyway - a snippet! I’m still building it up - duh, obviously, but here’s what I have rn.

Riku never paid much mind to the tattoo parlor across from his grandmother’s shop.

That isn’t to say he’s never seen it before, or anything – he still remembers the day it popped up a few years ago, across the street and two buildings over. Synthesize, with its striking midnight blue bricks and bright red door. A lot of people were skeptical of the business, doubtful that it would be there long – himself included - but despite all their doubts, it’s stuck around so far, highly recommended through word of mouth for the high quality of their work. If you wanted a tattoo or piercing as a magic focus, or for protection, or hell, just for a good night’s sleep – Synthesis would always provide.

It has been a while since the Destiny Islands had any kind of person around who’s spell work was primarily through body art; on the cities inland yeah, sure, there’s plenty – but that’s a two-day trip that many don’t feel like taking, at minimum. Here in their little beach town, folks like the ones at Synthesize were a rarity. It’s not like Riku knows the people that worked there, though; he’s rarely seen them, even after moving back home from the mainland – and that wasn’t planned, either. But life never turns out the way you want, even if you plan every possible turn on your path to the letter.

See, Riku was a witch – a witch like his mother and father, and their foremothers and fathers, on and on and on. He was a witch, and when he was seventeen, he had left home - like all good witches are supposed to do - and traveled inland to try and find a place to settle down and call his own. His plan had been to open his own shop to sell his own magical wares and make a name for himself – though what he wanted to sell, he wasn’t really sure. But he would figure it out on his own time. He had been well on his way to it, too – a few apprenticeships under his belt, a growing number of clients – he was doing it. It had been so close.

But then he got a call from his mother. And he had to come back home in August at twenty-two, to help around the house and care for his father, who had fallen ill. And eight months later he had to hold his mother’s hand as they stared out into the sea, draped in mourning white as his father’s ashes were swept away by the tide.

He hasn’t left home since. He hasn’t felt the urge to. Before, he had been so eager to leave home, so ready to just – grow up. But now, he’s not much of anything – not anymore.

Riku wasn’t resentful about staying in the Destiny Islands, not now; in the earlier years, when grief blinded everything, he was – he snapped and lashed out and quickly gave into the dark, bitter ugliness of his heart. But it was fine in the end; he had family to support him and pull him back when he got too into his head – and a grandmother that put him to work so he could get his head out of his ass, forcing him to try his hand at selling green things and potions – a tincture for better health, a bouquet with flowers placed just so to sharpen the mind or brighten a room, ethers to restore a person’s magic when exhausted. He wasn’t as good as his grandmother at first but now – he was decent enough. It was something that would keep him focused, keep him busy, and deal with the stormy turbulence in his heart in other ways.

And then his grandmother up and left the shop in his name a year and a half later when she finally decided to retire – a little apothecary all his own.

He didn’t think he could handle it by himself – a whole shop, belonging to him and him alone? It was too soon. He still felt so unbalanced – so young. He was only twenty-three. He hadn’t been sure. But his grandmother had put her foot down.

“You need this.” She insisted. “You need this, and it will be good for you. Besides – you think I’d let you run this place by yourself? No, no, I’ll be there to help when needed – but that doesn’t mean you get to slack off!”

Time passed, and he slowly settled. Slowly made the apothecary feel more like his, made a name for himself outside of his family. And then – Synthesize.

All he knows about the people that work there is that the artists are around his age, and the owner was a blue haired woman that he’d seen coming and going now and then. That, and the high compliments of their work, he supposed. But other than those things, he knows nothing about them – and he didn’t really mind all that much. Never really noticed, anyway, too caught up in his own work, his own life, filling in the ragged space his father left behind bit by bit. He didn’t really think his path would ever cross with his mysterious neighbors.

But that all changed one cold winter day – that day, he thinks, was the one that set him onto that long, winding path.

He didn’t really mind it that much, in the end.

-o-

It had been a pretty normal start to the day.

Riku arrives to his shop at eight in the morning, as he has done for the past three years, and then he makes his rounds around the shop to check on the plants that filled buckets to bursting and the state of the potions that lined the shelves, taking note on what needed to be restocked for the day. His grandmother wouldn’t be in until noon, and that was alright – the morning hours were slow, with customers few in number - which meant he could take his time.

After taking care of what needed to be restocked, Riku returned to the back rooms of the store to prepare himself for the day. He pulled his apron on and tied it snugly around his waist, adjusting the straps and making sure they weren’t twisted around his neck. He combed his fingers through his long, platinum hair, pulling his hair tie off his wrist and holding it between his teeth as he braided his hair back, ensuring it wouldn’t get in the way. His movements were slow, meditative, and with the added scent of flowers and dried herbs, Riku felt himself slipping into a calm space, muscles relaxing. As he tied the end off, the soft jingle of the bells over the door rang through the air, and Riku raised an eyebrow.

A customer? At this hour?

“Hello?” A man’s voice called out – bright, chipper, but still relatively deep. “Anyone there?”

“Be with you in a moment!” Riku called back, making a face at his reflection and the way his bangs hung in front of his eyes, futilely blowing the hair out the way. He quickly put it aside and left the back room behind, adjusting his apron one last time as he returned to the front area, wondering who could possibly be coming by this early.

A man around his age was waiting at the counter, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he looked around the shop. He had spiky brown hair, warm brown skin, and strikingly blue eyes, and when Riku stepped up behind the counter, the man gave him a quick once over before giving him a smile so bright it made him squint a little. It felt fine if he only admitted it to himself, but the man was…cute. “Can I help you?”

“Yes! I was wondering if you had any celebration flowers?”

Riku tilted his head, surveying the buckets of flowers around the room. “Probably, yes.” He mused. “What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, my girlfriend – it’s her birthday today, and I wanted to give her some flowers before work.”

Ah. A girlfriend. Well, no big deal.

He shrugged off the slight sting of disappointment with a smile. “That’s nice of you. Do you know what flowers you wanted to give her?”

“Uhh…”

Sheepish, the man shrugged, his grin turning shy as he reached up to scratch at the back of his head. The sleeve of his coat slips down, just enough so that Riku could see a small paopu fruit tattooed on his wrist. “I didn’t – sorry! I just thought, um, that there would be bouquets that were pre-made?”

Riku breathed out a little laugh. “That’s not how it works here, no. It – alright then. Can you tell me about her?”

“Huh?”

“Your girlfriend.” Riku says, beginning to roll up the sleeves of his sweater. “Can you tell me about her? What’s she like?”

He’s still a little new to this, but he’s worked here long enough that he feels like he’s got a good grip on this now.

“Oh! Um. Well –”

The man scratched at his hair again, and his eyes went soft as he thought over his words. “Kairi, well, she’s – she’s really smart, and nice – but don’t let that fool you! Even though she’s sweet, she’s got a real temper, too. And she’s so – she’s so funny, and competitive, and really hard working! And she always tries to make everyone feel good, and is just – she’s really warm, and welcoming, and – um.”

He smiled dopily. “I, uh. I like her a lot.”

Riku couldn’t help but smile. “I can tell. Alright, then. Give me just a second.”

He marinated over what he’d been told, humming in thought as he wandered around the space, staring at the buckets of flowers. It didn’t have to be a huge bouquet, he thinks – nothing too outlandish. He started off with a few pink carnations as the base, thinking for a second before grabbing a few amaryllis flowers. What else…? Jasmines, Riku decides. And larkspur. Maybe forget-me-nots? Riku wasn’t sure yet, but he felt pretty good about the idea.

So far it was looking good – whites and pinks with a little hint of purple. It felt…fitting. He didn’t know this Kairi person, but this looked like it would suit her well enough.

“So…”

“Hm?” Riku hummed absently, looking around the room.

“How long have you worked here?”

“Oh – um.” He tucked some of his wayward bangs behind his ear, even though he knew the act was futile. “About three years. This shop was – it’s family owned.”

“Really? That’s so cool!”

“You think so? It was my grandmother’s and, well. Now it’s mine.”

“Whaaaat?” The man gaped at him, astounded, and Riku felt prickly heat spread down his neck. “You own this place? But you look like – my age!!”

Riku sharply turned away, pressing the back of his hand against his cheek as he looked over the plants. The bouquet still needed a little – something. He decided to go with the forget-me-nots, after all. “That’s because I probably am your age. Really, it - it’s not that impressive.” Riku mumbles quietly, back turned to the man. “I mean – this place isn’t really mine. It’s not something I made on my own. But – that’s nothing you have to worry about. Sorry.”

How unprofessional of him; what is he thinking, starting to unload his problems on a stranger? Get a grip.

He decided to grab a few leaves of a fern plant, thinking that a touch of green would be good. As he started to head back to the counter he felt – something. A light brush against his senses – a magical aura rubbing against his. It made him shiver a little, hair rising at the nape of his neck, and he cut a glance over at the man, only to notice him staring, blue eyes piercing. It felt like – like he was trying to figure him out.

“I still think it’s great.” He said softly, and he sounded so…sincere. Riku tore his eyes away, letting out a soft laugh of disbelief. “If you say so.”

“Can you do magic, too?” The man asked as Riku returned behind the counter, grabbing some lavender tissue paper to wrap the flowers in.

“I can.” Riku’s hands moved fluidly, tucking the flowers together and wrapping them up, turning some of the blooms just so, so the arrangement looks perfect. “I come from a very long line of witches.”

“Really?? That’s amazing!”

The man looked so amazed, eyes sparkling, and Riku actively had to fight back the heat creeping up his neck. “Thanks.” He mumbled bashfully. “Anyway –”

He wrapped the flowers with a nice white ribbon and held out the bouquet. “You’re all set.”

“Oh! Thank you!” The man carefully takes the flowers, a little awed smile on his face. “They look amazing – and they smell so good! And they feel really – bright! Wow, you’re really good at this!”

“I should hope so.” Riku says dryly, and the man makes a face.

“Sorry, sorry. How much do I owe you? Oh, can I also get a couple ethers, as well?”

He grabbed the bottles of ether before munny exchanged hands, and Riku gave the man his change and receipt with a smile. “Have a good one. I hope Kairi likes the birthday flowers.”

“Thanks! I hope so, too!”

The man grinned brightly at him and took a couple steps back, arms laden with his purchases. He’d started to turn to the door but – stopped. Turned back to face him. “Hey…what’s your name?”

Riku tilted his head a little, bemused. “I’m Riku.”

“Riku.” He repeated slowly, like he was testing the sound of his name, and then he gave him a smile. “I’m Sora! It’s nice to meet you – and thanks for all your help! I’ll probably come around more often.”

Sora gave him one more wave before stepping outside, the door quietly swinging shut behind him. The shop felt – much quieter, with Sora’s presence gone; everything about him was very…bright. Loud. But not in a bad way.

He did say he would come around more often, and Riku, well – he guessed that he wouldn’t mind the noise too much.

Riku stepped around the counter and moved towards the large windows, discreetly staring after Sora as he walked down the street and headed –

To Synthesize.

“Oh.” He said aloud, mouth falling open a little as Sora entered the shop, letting that bright red door close behind him.

He guessed – the little glimpse of a tattoo should’ve made it obvious. But that doesn’t mean Sora works there. Maybe his girlfriend works there? That’s probably it.

It slowly started to sink in how Riku must have looked to others, pressed up against the window and staring after someone he only talked to for five minutes.

Why was he thinking so hard about this? What was there to wonder about? He needs to get it together.

“I have work to do.” He muttered to himself, pushing away from the windows and retreating into the store’s depths.

#wip wednesday #sorikai

16 notes · View notes

marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

Inspired by the character Margarita Blankenheim from Evillious Chronicles (Link to Margarita’s Evillious Chronicles wiki page: https://theevilliouschronicles.fandom.com/wiki/Margarita_Blankenheim ) and the song “Gift From the Princess Who Brought Sleep” (Link to the fanmade PV & cover by Mariogagabriel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mo8IHawkHpI ), all by Mothy.

Trigger warnings for self-harm mentions, suicide mentions, and a bat shit crazy psychopathic girl who is the topic of this character description.

Well, I’ve made way more disgusting & hateable characters for my world...I mean, I made a character whose disgusting fetish list is long and as said, disgusting and disturbing. Ah, the smell of my world and its blurry border between NSFW and SFW…

(I think the only reason it's not NSFW is cus there are no explicit scenes of you know what ._.)

“If you truly love me, you wouldn’t have hurt me back then. I’m just returning the favor, you know! Every Black Rose has thorns...but mine are simply sharper, Mama, Papa. Now,

TO HELL WITH YOU SCUM!”

-Laila, 1691 T.C. At Age 15

Name: Laila Kerrin Rouziame (Pronounced Lie-la Care-in Ro-zee-ah-meh in case anyone has trouble pronouncing it)

Name Meaning: Laila is an Arabic name meaning “Night Beauty”. Kerrin is an Irish name meaning “Black”. I derived her last name from “Rouzia”, an English name which is a variation of the name “Rose”. All together her name literally means “Night Beauty Black Rose”.

Aliases (If Any): Black Rose (Code Name/Serial Killer Name)

Age: 19 (On Death)

Date of Birth/Birthday: Day 14 of Xomura’s Star, 1676 T.C. (Equivalent of February 14th)

Zodiac: Aquarius

Status: Deceased (Died 1695 T.C.)

Species: Elf

Magic: Unknown (Used A Variety of Different Spells, The Magic She Inherited/Specialized In Is Unknown)

Height: 5’4 Feet (162 Centimeters)

Ethnicity: Vesperian

Relatives: Duke Rouziame (Father)✝

Duchess Rouziame (Mother)✝

Rowen von Hallow (Husband)✝

Veila Miranda Rouziame (Daughter)✝

Various Descendants

Birth Place: Merdanburg, Rouziame Territory, Vesper Empire

Nationality/Current Residence: Merdanburg, Rouziame Territory, Vesper Empire

Religion (Which Goddess Do They Worship?): Kaya (Claims)

None

Occupation: Duchess of House Rouziame

The Infamous Serial Killer “Black Rose”

Founder of The Criminal Organization “Midnight Rosaria”

Affiliations: Midnight Rosaria

House Rouziame

Vesper Empire

Personality: Self-Destructive, Just Plain Old Crazy, Psychopathic, Masochistic, Sadistic, Comes Off As “Sweet” And “Kind”, But Eerily “Sweet” and “Kind”, Like You Can Just Feel Something Is Off, But She’s A Master Manipulator, So You Wouldn’t Realize Till She Stabs You Senseless

Marital Status: Married (Formerly)

Widow [By Choice]

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Likes: Roses, Pain (No Seriously, I Put Her As Masochist In Her Personality Thing For A Reason), Flowers

Dislikes: People Pitying Her, People Treating Her As if She Were A Sweet Innocent Thing To Be Protected From The Cruel World, The Abuse Her Parents Did To Her, The Scent of Smoke, Smoke In General

Role: Background Character

Potential Post-Ever Changing Fate 1 Side Story Main Character (Undecided Though)

Debut: Undecided

Random Facts:

Laila is a genuine actual psychopath. She’s not meant to be a character you can justify at all or chalk up her trauma to be the source of her evil or that she could have been good in an alternate timeline if she did not go through her trauma. She was, really, seriously, born with a lack of empathy for people and violent tendencies. However, her parents’ abuse towards her is what pushed her over the edge. But she would likely have still gone down the route she goes down in her canon, becoming a murderer, as she is likely a character who displays the worst symptoms and tendencies of someone who is a psychopath.

Also before anyone claims she’s a sociopath- she is not, because she was like this from birth. Sociopaths are made- psychopaths are born. Big difference.

She was not born a masochist, however, she slowly morphed into one as the years went on and she searched for relief from the pain her parents caused her, and in a sick way the pain she caused to herself seemed to feel euphoric, and she’s not sure why. It may be due to her suicidal tendencies and contemplation of suicide, or maybe something else.

Laila is not meant to be an accurate representation of most mentally ill people- she’s one of the most extreme cases. And she’s also an actual psychopath, who are unable to be helped at all because their lack of empathy is not like depression or something where they can recover- it’s something physically wrong with her brain; for lack of a better word, she’s broken. And there’s nothing anyone could do to help her. Unfortunately, before anyone realized she was a severe, genuine danger to everyone around her and herself, she had already killed many people and eventually herself.

Laila also has severe depression (which is the main cause of her suicidal tendencies later on and masochistic tendencies) and severe PTSD towards the scent of smoke due to her father’s smoking habits. That’s also why she didn’t just burn all of Merdanburg like many people in Midnight Rosaria wanted her to- her fear of the smoke scent and just smoke, in general, made her unable.

Her exact kill count is 400. 399 if you disinclude herself.

Her masochistic tendencies are not sexual in nature before anyone asks.

Backstory: Laila Kerrin Rouziame was born the only child of Duke and Duchess Rouziame in the capital of Rouziame Territory (A Territory In My World Is A Province, Sort Of), Merdanburg on Day 14 of Xomura’s Star, 1676 T.C. Since birth, Laila had been harshly disciplined by her parents and taught what she should and should not do, in order to morph her into the perfect heiress, it didn’t help that the Vesper Empire was collapsing at the seams and that House Vesper, the ruling house of the empire, had disintegrated due to its main branch ending up at a dead-end when the last empress, Elisabet, died without an heir back in 1566 (110 years ago), and the nobility were all scrambling to become the new ruling house, and as one of the most powerful noble houses, Laila’s parents wanted to be the ones to become the new emperor and empress. And so, Laila was trained in how to be the best leader she could be, and harsh punishment in the form of physical and verbal abuse was executed to her if she did not comply, which she did a lot. Laila had...many violent tendencies, she often for example stabbed her stuffed animals with pencils or pens, or tearing them apart by hand, and sometimes even harming herself. All of this caused her only to be punished more, and many people started to refer to her as a demon child due to her tendencies of violence, and she even once attempted to stab the third son of the current Marquis Mariah at the time. Her lack of conscience and sense of right and wrong made everyone fear that maybe Laila was “possessed” or “cursed”. As Laila grew her tendencies only heightened, but, she learned an important skill from her older cousin, Lettisa (she was also a fellow psychopath), when she was 10- deception.

Laila learned how to pretend to be normal.

And so the random bursts of violence stopped. She put on a mask of perfectness- making herself out to be kind and benevolent when in reality she felt nothing but sick happiness at the thought of the pain she could cause. In private she harmed herself yet again but did so in places where she could easily hide the scars and wounds.

When Laila was 13 the abuse from her parents continued to worsen, and her cousin Lettisa started talking to her about the idea of killing them, confessing that she herself killed her parents because they abused her too. Laila for the next 2 years would seriously consider it because she was tired of the abuse, in her words "They don't accept me for who I am, wanting me to pretend to be someone I am not. If they were gone...maybe...I could be free."

Laila would go through with her meticulously planned for two whole years murder plot against her parents when she was 15, murdering them in an excruciating, painful way which shall not be said because it's way too gory and disturbing.

After that Laila inherited everything from her parents, the estate, the title, the money, everything. Her cousin, Lettisa, chose to move out of her aunt's house to come live with Laila. And there began their creation of an organization, a criminal one, which they planned to name: "Midnight Rosaria".

Laila would be the face of the organization, and Lettisa handled many nitty-gritty details.

Laila's mental health continued to decline in terms of her sanity, and she began desiring to feel the euphoria which bringing pain to others had always brought her. And so, she became a serial killer, not targeting anyone in particular besides people who were friends of her parents, who were rewarded for their bystanding status of just watching Laila get abused by her parents with a painful death.

With the creation of Midnight Rosaria, killings across all of Merdanburg heightened along with the crime rate, Lettisa going around and recruiting people to the organization. Everyone was there for different reasons and different goals, but they all benefited from one thing: the fact that they would help each other. Everyone in the organization usually behind only one member's murder plot or crime. It was very meticulously planned, everything was perfected to the highest degree of perfection. And let me tell you, Laila was not dumb- in fact, she was a genius of her time, likely one of the most brilliant criminals ever. She was just... absolutely insane.

Before Laila even turned 18, she was approached by a suitor named Rowen von Hallow, who claimed to have fallen in love with her and wanted to marry her. She originally rejected him, but Lettisa said that marrying him would greatly increase her power due to him being descended from Alia Hallow, who was a famous hero. So, Laila agreed to marry him. She gave birth to a daughter a year later.

For the next 4 years of her life (counting from when she was 15), Laila murdered over 300 people, using various magic spells and masking her true nature to enact her plots. With all of Midnight Rosaria helping her, at that point, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her, not when she had so much power and influence as Duchess Rouziame and the leader of Midnight Rosaria.

Merdanburg became a ghost town.

Laila's mental health had become extremely unstable. She even murdered her husband during a violent fit and didn't even care afterward.

And so Laila believed the last thing to do was to kill herself.

Everyone urged her not to, including Lettisa, but Laila stated that it was for the best, considering that was what she had wanted her entire life- the ultimate pain- the sweet release of death.

And so she did.

Laila has gone down in history as one of the most brilliant minds to have ever lived, as she did excel in school, but used her brilliance for the wrong reasons. She became known as the "Black Rose" due to her leaving a black rose wherever she made the worst wound on her victims. She's become infamous in history and due to being the creator of Midnight Rosaria along with Lettisa, she influenced the future of crime for centuries.

Lettisa ended up being the new guardian of Laila's daughter Veila, and unfortunately, Veila inherited her mother's psychopathy, becoming an infamous murderer as well.

This is my first time writing a character who was born just purely crazy, did I mess up anything? Idk myself if I did a good job or what. ;-;

She's likely going to be improved in the future as I find out more about psychopathy, but this is her for now. :/

— Submision

Well, I do think it’s important not to call people “crazy”. Doing things of that nature can harm anyone with mental illness. Mental illness are not excuses for your actions. There’s definitely people in this world that are cruel but they are simply cruel for their own reasons, they weren’t being forced into doing anything, they choose to do what they do. Framing certain illness in a bad light makes for a bad stigma for people who experience pyschosis, hallucinations, and more. It isn’t “scary” to be “different.”

But, it is a shame that people hurt others for things out of their control, like what they struggle with mentally or physically. Genetics can put you at risk for certain things, like anxiety, but that doesn’t mean that would make you your parent, or what they struggled with. Now, you could be disillusioned with reality and she could possibly have been taught things as a child that helped shape her view of others, and that’s how the daughter lashes out at others, but I wouldn’t say that she “got it from her mother” as in, mental illness.

It’s just important to be careful about how you write characters like that because there is so much bad media out there that does more harm then good. Even if she’s one of the extreme cases that is an outlier, it’s important to be wary of what it can do to other people.

I do find the concept rather interesting, though. It has potential if you continue to work on it and remedy things that may hurt others.

#tw self harm #tw suicide ment #ask #oc #mod kait #littleghostlyrose #submission

7 notes · View notes

descendants-one-shot2 · 3 years

Text

Hey! This is me and my friends joint account and this is our first post so here are some prompts you can send us with a descendants character(s) and we'll try to write a one-shot about it! Thank you and go follow our personal tumblrs at @blue-freckels @07-18yess

“I already see it now, you weren't built for backing down”

“You have to understand that The one I killed is me Changing what I was For what you wanted me to be”

“You'd probably punch my arm right now If you saw this tear rollin' down my face hey, man, I'm tryin' to be tough”

“my high school ring will have to do 'Til I can buy a wedding band”.

“She couldn't be at home in the night time because It made her feel alone, but at that time she was too young”

“I met you in the dark, you lit me up you made me feel as though I was enough”

“Hate to ask, but what's it like to leave me behind?”

“ I won't be like you”

“I'm more than my body you can pack your things up, buh bye, just go”

“If you see the boy I used to be could you tell him that I'd like to find him And if you see the shell that's left of me could you spare him a little kindness”

“I know you think I got it all figured out 'Cause I walk around like my head's in the clouds but I'm just a boy with his heart pourin' out of his head”

“But I'm causing you so much frustration and you only want the best from me”

“Youre trembling…”

“Youre ignoring all your problems”

“Dont do this to yourself”

“Stop pushing everyone away!”

“Youre a monster”

“Its midnight, where the hell where you!?”

“Where did all those bruises come from”

“You really need to stop drinking, im serious!”

“Sometimes i wish that i could just fall asleep and never wake up”

“They cant do anything to me, i have nothing left”

“Put that knife down…”

“Youre either with me or against me”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Why arnt you eating?”

“What were you thinking!”

“Im starting to think that you want to get yourself killed…”

“I love you”

“I hear you talking but i still dont have my coffee”

“Youre bad for me, but ive always liked junk food”

“Were from two very different worlds” “so lets build a bridge”

“I hate You!” “aww i love you too”

“Youre gonna hate me if i tell you”

“Youre my best friend”

“Im sorry”

“You cant fix me”

“Fucking Magic”

“You have no idea what im going threw”

“Fuck you”

“Are you with me”

“ i drink to escape the pain”

“Youre all i have left in this shitty world”

“Im scared”

“Stay with me”

“Looks like ya got a problem friendo”

“Im always by your side”

“I cant let you do that”

“I love you to much, to leave without you loving me back”

“Why the hell would you do that to yourself”

“Im a monster”

“Did he hurt you…”

“No dont touch me”

“Why did you flinch…..”

“I would never hurt you”

“The scars make you who you are”

“Are those….new”

“Made a wrong turn, once or twice Dug my way out, blood and fire”

“We made these memories for ourselves”

“I swear it will get easier”

“They think i hate them”

“Im not scared of you anymore”

“You are not my father”

“I hate everyone”

“Sing with me”

“Your hair is really soft after you wash it”

“Stop fussing, im just brading your hair”

“If you steal the blankets im gonna put my cold feet on you”

“You are my new pillow”

“Ive known you since… forever, i cant imagin my life without you”

“If it wasnt for you i would be lost, im so lucky you came into my life”

“Youre my bestfriend, youre suppost to deal with the second hand embarrassment”

“You dont have to deal with everything alone”

“You know me better than anyone”

“Ugh- youre sweaty get off”

“We should run away”

“I have no sympathy for a criminal”

“I wasnt planing on asking you but it acured to me that life is short so will you marry me “were 16” so?”

“The dog loves me more”

“Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles”

“Together we can do anything

“Who wouldnt be angry, you ate all my cereal”

“I hope you know my name is actually_____”

“Doll~”

”stop touching my neck”

“Where were you when your father told you Boys don't cry,”

“An if theres a next one i hope that she can love him the same”

“Then we won’t make it along, but hey, I guess that’s love”

“But ill leave a message so i’m not alone”

“The day that they took you i wish it was me instead”

“Diamonds they dont turn to dust or fade away”

“I should be happy of course”

“But tomorrow makes me scared”

“I’m ready to forgive you but forgetting is a harder fight”

“I've been praying for forgiveness, you've been praying for my health”

“Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the nigh changes”

“Scream and we shout we make up the same day”

“Every jewel on my crown you better believe i earned it”

“I hate you I hate you but i was just kidding myself”

“It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless”

“Too tired to fight”

“I gave what i could and the rest was stolen”

“This city never sleeps at night”

“Remember that night”

“I can speak to you by saying nothing at all”

“too young too dumb to know things like love but I know better now”

“What did i do wrong this time, thats parents for you”

“Please don’t come after me”

“We’ll always love you no matter what”

“you'll understand when you love someone”

“An we just pretend i can take it back”

“It didn't always hurt this way”

“Am i messed up, forever flawed, beyond repair, but forever yours”

“You’ve got you peace now, but what about me”

“One last word, one last moment”

“I see my future in you eyes”

“I am not afraid to walk this world alone”

“Nothing you can say an stop me going home”

“Awake and unafraid, asleep or dead”

“You wanna be a loser like me”

“Ill get yo back when im your boss”

“Cause with all that has happened think that we both now the way that the story end

“I got an idea, and i know that it sounds crazy”

“She expected the world”

“Life goes on it get so heavy”

“On the edge of paradise”

“I don’t love yo im just passing the time”

“But who could love me i am out of my mind”

“Beg you to stay”

“Don’t know if you love me or you want me dead”

“Sometimes when i look at you i see my wife”

“Don’t be his friend you know you gonna wake up in his bed in the morning”

“We need you, i needed you”

“That i was nothing but a kid who couldn’t understand it”

“If you really cared for me then why you acting”

“Never planned that one ay i’d be loosing you”

“We made a pact”

“In another life, I woul make you stay”

“I begge you to want me, but you didn't want to”

“know you're in a better place but it's always gonna hurt”

“He's waiting. Hides behind a cigarette”

“I'm your weakest link” “but you're still a part of the chain”

“ mini bars, expensive cars, hotel rooms and new tattoos, and the food Champagne and the private planes, but they don't mean anything, cause the try to truth is out”

3 notes · View notes

therkalexander · 5 years

Text

The Good Counselor Chapter 5

Here it is! The long-awaited Hera/Zeus chapter!

I know I took an absence last week and sadly that was unplanned due to illness. However, I do have to take another absence, this time planned, because I will be recovering from surgery. The next chapter debuts on MARCH 13 at the regular time.

Thank you so much for following The Good Counselor with as much fervor as you followed Receiver of Many when I initially posted it!

See you on the 13th.

Free previews published weekly every Wednesday night at Midnight, Pacific Standard Time.

The Good Counselor

Seventy years have passed since Elysion was created, and Persephone’s efforts to conceive a child with Hades have been in vain. But a secret rite on Samothrace might bend the Fates and give her all that they have dreamed of, or pave a path of untold suffering.

Chapter 5

Her chest heaved, her throat burned. But she refused to let tears fall. Hera wondered yet again, like so many other times in her long life, if this was the way mortals felt when their hearts broke and ceased to beat, and they passed from the living world.

Whores were one thing. That impulse that came not from his heart, but from that other part between his legs that relentlessly craved the embrace of new flesh. It happened, it ended, and she had deadened herself to that hurt long, long ago. Love was different. After their nuptials, after their hieros gamos, Hera had been blessed and cursed by their inextricable link. She could feel deep within her when he loved another. It was a pit in her heart— a hollow, like the well of the clay cup she gripped in her hand. The clay turned warm against her angry palm.

Tears fell onto its unvarnished surface.

This was betrayal more potent than anything she'd ever felt— more than even the early days, when he had deeply loved and lain with Leto and begat the twins on her. She had been furious, their marriage still so new and fragile, and his duplicity and denial so deep.

That hardly compared.

Everyone knew but her. Demeter; Hermes, who had told Poseidon, and likely others; and of course Apollo. How many had been laughing and pointing at her back all this time?

Zeus had promised Aidoneus and Persephone the only thing that should never, could never, be given away: their children's birthright. It was the lowest mockery of their marriage and the one untouchable truth that set her apart from all others— that her children were legitimate, and the rest of his spawn were bastards.

Did he not realize that by giving them that, he was going back on his word to her , and passing the line of succession through his first born? Through Demeter's child? Even if growing Hades's seed was impossible, it was the gravity of such a thing. It was a Stygian oath made by the King of the Gods! Unbreakable, and beyond egregious, tempting the Fates into the unimaginable…

Hera could feel Zeus drawing closer to the room and stood, her hands tensing around the cup, nearly cracking it. His sandals thudded against the marble floors. As his shadow appeared around the corner, she cocked her arm.

The cup exploded against the wall and Zeus ducked beyond the doorway.

"What in Tartarus was that for?!"

"How could you?"

"How could I…" He leaned around the corner, and entered the room once he saw that her hands were both empty. Hera balled her fists and stood tense, her shoulders tight. Zeus approached her, and she trembled but didn't move. He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled at her. "Woman, if you want to spend an evening with me, there's better ways to get my attention. You needn't—"

"I have half a mind to never lie with you again!"

"Be serious."

"I am!"

"You've caught me on a night where I'm alone for once; I've said not a word I've done nothing to cause you to act out like this, so I'll ask you again. What daimones possessed you to throw that at me?"

"Persephone!"

"Truly? She never seemed fiendish to me. From what I heard, you were having a pleasant enough time with her and Amphitrite. You were the one who invited her, for Fate's sake." He sighed and folded his arms. "You didn't let Poseidon's sea witch get under your skin again, did you?"

"Amphitrite is nothing! This is about what you promised Aidoneus the day the Pomegranate Agreement was struck!"

Zeus knit his brow, perplexed. Then it dawned on him. He lowered his arms to his sides and took a step back. Hera watched him grit his teeth. He was painfully easy to read. That was the expression he'd made when she confronted him about Europa. And Danae.

"How could you make a promise like that?!"

"You trouble yourself over nothing, woman," Zeus said, pacing about his room. "It will come to nothing. They know that. You know that. So why pester me?"

"You have no respect for me. It is not enough that you fornicate with every woman who crosses your path? Now you give away my son's birthright to another?"

Zeus laughed. " What other?"

"To Persephone's first child!"

"Ha!" He scoffed, loud enough for it to echo and her to flinch. "This is why I cannot take your mood to heart and you shouldn't those words heart either. I might as well have sworn to Poseidon that the seas would boil. Hades and Persephone will have no children."

"Not Aidoneus, no, but—"

"And neither will she. Persephone sealed her fate when she ate those damned pomegranate seeds."

"You don't know that! She's the Goddess of Spring ."

"Don't be ridiculous. She's part of the Land of the Dead. As much a Chthonios as her husband, no matter how much time she spends in the sunlight. She is as barren as their Fates-forsaken kingdom."

"Her fertility might overpower it." She leveled an accusing finger. "And I think you know that."

Zeus rolled his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you'll try to beget on her as you did on her mother."

He blinked hard, then looked nauseous, and Hera froze. She'd only seen him this unsettled one other time… but it had affected him. She silently congratulated him on mustering a reaction stronger than lying or vague dismissal. Hera folded her arms and pressed on.

"Given your recent depravity I would not even put laying with your own daughter beneath you."

"That is enough !" He advanced on her, trapping her between his body and the bed at the back of her knees. She faltered. His eyes narrowed. "And even if she were not my daughter... she looks too much like Rhea. Honestly, Hera. You wound me. Say what you will about the lovers I've taken, but for fatessake, my own children … For shame, Hera."

He backed away, his lip curled in disgust. She seethed. He was blaming her . How many times had he always turned it back on her? "It didn't stop you from bedding Alcmene."

He rolled his eyes. "Not this again. I told you, it's over between her and me. Her new husband was rutting in her well-traveled passage hardly a night after I rose from her."

She stamped away from his bed. It was too dangerous to stay there. He'd cornered her during an argument there and 'soothed' her out of her protests too many times before. This was different. He had dishonored her. He had dishonored their children . "I cannot believe that it falls to me to know more about your harlots than you do."

"What are you muttering about?"

"Alcmene is the daughter of Electryon. Who was the daughter of Perseus. Who was your own son! "

"Perseus…" He chewed his lip.

"Oh, Fates save me for having such a forgetful husband!"

"If you would just let these pass, as I do, instead of holding on to your hate for generations you might be happier, Hera."

"He slew the sea monster. Cetus. Took that Ethiopian girl, Andromeda, to wife."

He cocked his head to the side and smirked in the unnerving way he always would when he found her anger amusing. She wanted to cry, or flail her fists against his chest. If she did it would give him an opportunity to comfort her. Or draw her close. All roads lead to his polluted bed. She stood her ground.

"His mother was Danae. Who you… appeared to… as a golden rain."

"Ah! Now I remember!" His voice lightened, taunting her. "Her miserable father had locked her away. Trying to defy the Oracle, for fear that her offspring would kill him. And as luck would have it, Perseus did! Accidentally, mind you, but…" He guffawed.

"And so you sleep with your own great-granddaughter."

"Please…"

"She has your blood running through her!"

"So does nearly every noble family in Hellas," he chided. "And I've bedded half of them ."

"So does Persephone. Will you bed her too?!"

He lunged at her and she tried to twist away. Hera shrieked. Her wrists were trapped in his hands and her struggling only brought her closer against his chest. "Let me go!"

His breath teased the stray hairs on her forehead. "Listen to me."

"No!"

"Hera," he said, his voice soothing. "Hera, they cannot have children. Look at me."

She kept her gaze firmly on his chest, not wanting him to see her crying.

"Wife, gynaika mou , look at me."

She sniffled, and brought her deep brown eyes up to meet his sky blue. He let go of one wrist, and brushed a tear away from her face.

"I would never, ever , betray you like that. Persephone and Hades cannot have children. I said it to taunt him that day because of all the destruction and waste his selfish infatuation with her had caused. It was meant to put him in his place and drive a wedge between them. Nothing more."

"What…" she swallowed, trying to keep from leaning into the fingers stroking her cheek. Her voice wavered. "What if they do conceive?"

"They won't. I hear tell they've tried just about anything. So my empty oath to him did all it was supposed to do. It put Hades in his place. It will eventually drive them apart because Persephone, though she ate the seeds willingly, would never have done so if she'd known it would condemn her to an eternally barren marriage bed. In that way, he did trick her, as the mortals say. Even if there were a way they could, even if they found some dark sorcery that could give them a child, I would never make a spawn of theirs heir to Olympus. Never . Besides… if such a creature were even possible, it would be rooted to the Underworld the same as its dismal parents."

"You promise?"

"I promise, Hera." He kissed her cheek.

"Then why didn't you tell me at the time?"

"Because I thought it to be of no consequence then. Just as it is of no consequence now."

She dipped her head.

"You see? Nothing to worry yourself over."

She tensed. This was becoming too easy for him. "What about Alcmene?"

"I told you, it's over."

"Her sons— twins, Zeus…"

"It's doubtful they are even mine. She slept with Amphitryon before the sun went down on the day I left her."

"But their blood will be that much stronger if divine lineage is on both sides."

"No they won't. They'd be mortal hemitheoi at best. To amount to anything beyond their mortal years, they would need to drink ambrosia. And that won't happen either."

She nodded.

"Now," he said, kissing her neck, "how can I make this up to you? How best should I apologize?"

She closed her eyes and leaned in. "Apologize?"

"Of course," he said, his lips lingering on the juncture of her shoulder and neck. "I should have told you right away the thing I said to taunt Hades. Would you have been as distressed by what Persephone let slip if I had?"

"No," she whispered back, feeling heat against her thigh through his himation and loincloth.

"You could have laughed her off, just as I do her husband." Zeus teased his fingers along the small of her back and grazed his beard along her jaw.

"Amphitrite knew."

"Amphitrite is a gossip." He kissed her lips quickly. "And a hastily promoted nymph." He kissed her earlobe. "And a shameless whore."

Hera sucked in a breath as his tongue danced across the shell of her ear.

"And you are the queen." He slipped a fibula free on her peplos, the fabric shifting and falling from her shoulder. He breathed against the skin he had freed. "You are my queen."

***THIS PART HAS BEEN CUT DUE TO ITS EXPLICIT NATURE AND IN KEEPING WITH SITE GUIDELINES AND FOSTA-SESTA. PLEASE READ THE GOOD COUNSELOR ON AO3 FOR THE UNEDITED VERSION.***

She rose quietly by a sliver of moonlight, confident that Zeus wouldn't wake up. After they lay together she rarely stayed. It was better for both of them. They weren't newlyweds, and languishing in his arms would only mean inevitable heartache later. She was his queen, and above those childish wiles. Their love ran deeper than his affairs, and letting him pull at her heartstrings would only weaken her. She gathered her strewn clothes and pulled her peplos around her and, in a flash of iridescent peacock blue and green, journeyed through the ether back to her private chambers.

She felt so immodest every time she left his room wrapped in a peplos. But once alone in her room, she cast it to the floor and walked barefoot across the marble, feeling rejuvenated and free in her private sanctuary. Not even Iris was allowed in here.

Hestia was right. Hestia was always right. Perhaps the way Persephone conducted herself with her husband would set a good example for Zeus. Their relationship was strange… a perversion of the natural order, but it was certainly better than betrayal after betrayal followed by base lust and defilement. Persephone had left their gathering mirroring the same curtness that Hera had shown after she revealed the details of the Pomegranate Agreement and Zeus's arrogant oath. Hera had been so angry she had barely said goodbye.

It might do to make amends, and then to bring Persephone into her circle. Persephone was a queen; a new queen, one that still needed to be taught— wrought and shaped into a true ruler. The Queen of the Underworld could be a powerful ally, especially with Elysion still new and largely unknown. She could use allies. And more still, a friend and equal. Hera could tell from Zeus's reaction that Persephone would never be desired by her ever-wandering husband. What more, Persephone was clearly not one to be trifled with, even for one such as Zeus.

And there was that other matter to contend with.

Hera picked up the green fillet that had bound up her hair and stretched it out across the floor. Finding the center, she ripped the fabric into two pieces, equal in length, and held the torn pieces tightly in each hand.

With eyes shut, she breathed steadily, feeling the fabric thicken and writhe. The frayed strands flicked out in small forked tongues. When her eyes opened again, she released her hands from around the heads of two vipers, their scale patterns so reminiscent of the embroidery on her fillet.

They stared up at her, waiting.

"Go to Thebes," she whispered to them. "Find any son of Zeus that sprung from the desecration of Alcmene's marriage bed. Send them to Hades quickly and mercifully."

The vipers turned and gracefully slithered out of her room, down the slopes of Olympus, bound for Thebes and the infant twins Alcides and Iphicles.

#the good counselor #Zeus and Hera #Zeus #hera #Heracles #hades and persephone #HadesXPersephone #rachel alexander #receiver of many #destroyer of light

73 notes · View notes

oppatxtme · 6 years

Text

ᴄʜʀɪsᴛɪᴀɴ ʏᴜ: ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

Hello there my friends... I know it’s been too long since I posted something trashy for y’all to read... well, I terribly sorry about it. Some boy-issue happened and now I’m in the middle of being in a relationship and single at the same time. Well enough about me... here’s my Christian Yu one-shot. I hope y’all find it somewhat interesting.

TBH, I plan to write for Loco, but it’s hard to resist my mind when it keeps on thinking and typing Christian. And about the title, I titled it based on the song playing right after I finished it, and good enough it somehow applies to the story.

Note: Read at Your Own Risk ~~ (ง⌐□ل͜□)ง Type: One Shot Word Count: Long(?) - too lazy to paste it on MSWord.

INSPIRED by Siren’s Lament <3

[MASTERLIST]

It's been what?

Four years he's constantly coming to my shop to buy flowers for his girlfriend. How do I know it was for his girlfriend, well who wouldn't? It's Christmas Eve after all. And here in Korea, Christmas is somewhat spent together with their significant other, unlike some places that they'll surely be home at there own household to spend the holidays with their family.

I remember the first time he came to this flower shop of mine -- actually, he had no choice, for the flower shop he intended to purchase were closed. Again, I know because he parked his car on the other side of the road where another flower shop was. He looked around and as he turns around, he landed at my shop.

I also remember how I laughed at him when he tried to push the door that has a huge sign that says PULL.

He looked flustered with embarrassment as he bowed down and said sorry for almost breaking my door.

"Hi, can I have your best flower for today?" he said.

So, I did my best to help him pick the best among the rest - for today.

Also, I remembered that I include an extra red rose that day. It's really something I do on my first-time customer, that made most of them come back. Others even became patrons of the shop.

---

I personally arranged all the beautiful flowers first thing in the morning because he will be picking it up at eight o'clock.

And for the past four years, I have been waiting for a sign.

You see, even for that short time of that special day, I found myself having a feeling for him. First of all, there's this attraction towards him that I can't seem to escape. And everytime the door chime meaning someone came in, my eyes always landed on his smiling face. And his whole aura is so fresh that it's enough to brighten all of my flowers. And the fact that he smells good and dresses well is really my weakness.

And every single time our eyes met, there's this feeling inside me that at first I never believed existed -- butterflies in my stomach chills all over my body, my heartbeat starts pumping so hard and my knees turn to a gelatin and my feet seems rooted on where I stand. And right after he leaves the shop, I know why.

And so I waited for a sign. Any sign from God or whoever. For I wanted to know if having this one-sided feeling towards a man who looks every woman would want and the fact that he has a girlfriend are something I should continue having. I know wishing for him to be mine is like wishing to find a needle under a pool of people. But damn, I'm still a hoping mess.

I know his name -- Christian Yu. Of course, I know because I needed it to put on the receipt. I know that he's 28 years old. He's working at his own startup company and has a girlfriend.

He said that they've been together for almost a year now and he could clearly see her walking down the aisle as if he's picturing a vision and not merely imagining.

The second time he came, he couldn't remember my name. So I reminded him that my name is Sam. He, in reply, called me Sam Soon as a joke. And since then, he will call me Samsoon every time he got a chance.

One, when he joked about my name.

Second, is when the third time he came. He greeted me as SamSoon. He even joked that I might start adding on my pricing because he's been calling me that instead of my real name.

Third, is when he said before he left the shop.

"See ya later, SamSoon."

----

That's the last thing I remembered that he said, for what he meant by later was almost a year after. And in a few more days, it would be Christmas all over again. But this time, I decided that I will make our encounter over the counter memorable.

I don't want him to remember me as this girl at the flower shop who's named SamSoon so he could remember, and the girl who stared googly-eyed him whenever he gets the flowers he ordered for his girlfriend.

I want him to remember me as someone that has the courage to say what she has to even if it's about her having feelings for him.

He might not come back. I might not see him again. But I want to give a shot. It is better to know than not knowing at all. It's better to be hurt now than feeling hurt every time I think of him and every year I see him - buys the flower to you, for someone else.

I prepared the clothes I'll wear on that day. It's red -- as usual... but I decided to dress up a bit. I'll wear this red knitted dress that I'll be pairing with at black heels and a touch of light makeup.

I don't care if I'll be rejected or whatever. If I never see him after that, then I guess I'll just teach this foolish heart of mine the art of letting go.

Two days before Christmas, I stayed up late at the show together with some of my staff. They helped me to arrange the flowers and keep it from the freezing weather. But after a couple of hours, I let them go before it starts raining snow again.

As I looked at the time, it's almost midnight and my eyes started to get droopy. I guess that explains why. So I stand up and decided to close the shop then I'll just continue finishing this later.

This manual labor and the mental stress about Christian is taking its toll. I sighed rather long at that moment.

"Hey there, SamSoon."

Even tho I won't look at my side to know who was that, I know that it was him. Who else dares to call me SamSoon at my own shop? Honestly, that show 'My Name is Kim SamSoon' aired a decade and so today, but he still decides to call me that. I can't help but smile before turning around.

"Hey! What brings you here?"

I saw how he smile and gave me a coffee he's holding, which I'm guessing is from the other coffee shop not far away from here, where I always buy my coffee. Even tho there's a huge Starbucks branch near the shop.

"Coffee?" he inquired.

"Thanks," as I took it from his. I take a sip, thinking how thoughtful he is for bringing me a cup. And good enough, the tiredness I am feeling a while back, somehow drown away just one sip and smelling the aroma of the coffee. So I sip for more.

"Slow down, have you not thought that there might be poised? You're drinking it in one shot."

Now that I think of it, I paused and almost puke after realizing what he meant. But I didn't think he could do that. But I guess when you accept the fact you like someone, you couldn't think ill of them. Even if it sometimes, if they did something wrong, you always forgive and forget.

He then laughed at my facial expression while thinking all that.

"I'm just kidding, Sam."

Then I smiled at him. Finally, he was able to call me by my name.

"Yaah!" I say as I point my index finger at him. "So anyway, what are you doing here? And at this time as well. Are you here to pick up the flower? Oh my, I'm still not done arranging it."

"I know, don't worry." he looked around and walks towards the sofa set good for four that I recently installed there for customers who would like to stay longer just to rest. "I'm actually here to change that."

"Change it?" as we both seat and now facing each other.

He nodded.

"I want a bigger bouquet. Something bigger like this," he said while his hands and arms motioned the size.

And it was like an extra large round pizza. I can't help but be puzzled. Why? Not to mention it was really a last minute change. To think that I had already arranged the flowers for his order and now I need to change and start all over. At a season like this, of course, the flowers I used on arranging are pre-ordered, and what I have on the shop that was ready to buy are not that well for my arrangements.

And I am sure enough that he wouldn't want that to be used for his girlfriend.

"Well, the thing is that I'm not so sure if there would be any available flowers for that big," I told him the truth, there's no use on hiding it.

His gave you that apologetic smile and eyes that are enough to say yes on whatever he might ask.

"Can't you really make it work? I just really, as in really need it."

I sighed.

"Why all of a sudden? You always liked the bouquet I do."

"The thing is," He smiled to himself. "I'm going to propose to her tomorrow."

By hearing that, my ear went red. My whole body stopped functioning for a couple of seconds. Then he gave me that smile of his before I would probably turn the same smile with pleasure. But now, I smiled as I needed to. Even I'm dying inside. I just hope that I don't creep him on my smile.

I drank the hot coffee. So this is where it ends? So much for my courage to confess later. I guess I just spoil myself, taking granted on the past years that I should try to confess.

Now? No way I would dare to say it now after that. I don't want to give him reason to have a pitty feeling towards me. I guess this is for the best. It means that he's not the one for me.

I guess I should start that art of letting go thing. For this is the end. For sure, he will be returning to this shop more frequently -- on their anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine's day or just when he feels he wants to be sweet to his wife.

Just thinking about it feels so troublesome -- yeah, envious is a bitch. But no worries... I'm sure I'll find someone else to love.

"I'll try," I finally said to him.

"Thank you so much! I know I can really count on you." He stands and went on the back of the sofa I seated and hugged me from the back.

I try my best to prevent myself from sniffing. I hold strong on the tears that start to fill the corner of my eyes.

For four years, I've been thinking about this man. And every Christmas, I feast myself on looking at him even for a short time. And soon after, I waited for the next time I have the change to see him again. Hoping that it would be sooner than the next Christmas. Because I couldn't tell if he might find a different flower shop that he likes and he'll never come back.

I know, having a feeling for someone who's already in a relationship -- a serious one too. Is really hard and don't to mention how painful it is.

'Your girlfriend is one hell of a lucky woman.' I can't but think when he finally releases me from his hug and decided to seat in front.

"Are you done? Should I help you with anything?" he asked.

"No need. I should start by doing the new arrangements for that bouquet of yours." I smiled -- barely. 'I'll be starting to move on with my feelings for you while I'm at it.'

"Are you sure you'll be okay here?"

"Yeah," I said. "As if it's my first time having someone requesting last minute changes. So go home, and you can pick it up at the same time. Take it easy on driving."

----

After almost four hours of painstakingly putting a beautiful arrangement for the bouquet, I forgot how I manage to get to sleep in my own bed. I woke up with the sound of knocking from outside.

It was one of my staff. It's been a while now that they tried knocking for me to open up for them. I fixed myself. As they arrange the flowers I finished for pickup.

"Sam, the huge bouquet in your table, for who is it? There's no name and it wasn't on the list." Ria asked while I'm changing my clothes.

"Oh, it's for Mr. Yu. He asked to have some changes." there's nothing wrong if I don't mention he came personally to change it.

At 8 am sharp, Christian arrived. All dressed up for the big occasion. Suit and tie. If I were his girlfriend, I would ask myself every time how could I not say 'yes' to this guy, even if he's not asking -- for sure I might be the one asking him the question.

"Good morning," he greeted as his smile plastered on his face.

"Morning. Look at you, you surely know how to dress from the battle ey?" I said to him. I was a bit embarrassed about my outfit.

I took a quickie shower and failed to brush my hair. I know I'm not a pretty sight to look at right now but what can I do? I can't feel that Christmas spirit anymore.

"Well..." he looked around and landed to the only huge bouquet lined up in the near table." Is that it?" as he pointed it out.

I nodded as we both walked towards the table and finally handed it to him.

"Here."

"Wow, stunning as always." He studied it, he hugged it on one arm. "So how much?" as he tried to take out his wallet from his pocket.

I shooked my head.

"It's free."

I saw how his eyes almost popped out and his lips formed a huge O shape.

"Wait, what?" he asked and you nodded. "Are you sure? You must've worked for hours for this!"

"Yea, that I'm not gonna deny. But good luck with your proposal. I hope she says yes and all went well."

Christian said thanks once again and walked out of the shop... and out of my like.

As I slumped back to the sofa I heard the chimes at door.

"Oh? Have you forgot something?" I asked. He nodded and walked closer. And then he handed me the flowers. "Why? Is there a problem with the flowers?" as I inspected the bouquet.

"You still don't remember me, do you?"

I looked up at him. He looked so serious. What did he mean remember him? Why? When did I ever forget about him? I don't get it. How can I forget the only man I think of all these freakin' years?

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

"Don't you remember?"

"What am I supposed to remember?" my brows are all curled trying to understand what he was trying to impose. I stood up, but when I realize his too close, I stepped back.

He sighed. Then he leaned closer that there's only an inch between our faces. So I tried to step back again.

"Can't you remember this face?" he pointed his face. "Are sure you can't remember?"

"What are you saying, you're my customer, of course I know." I laughed, to ease the tense atmosphere that starting to build up between us and his seriousness. "What is it that I should remember besides that fact?"

"Sam, don't you even have the slightest memory of me... Christian Yu, your boyfriend for seven years?"

My jaw drop. Boyfriend? Him? My boyfriend? For what? For seven years?!

That's impossible, right? It's only four years since I knew him.

"I guess you still haven't fully recovered." he sounded rather sad. "But let me enlighten you..."

And then he went on in saying that we were together for a couple of years when the accident happened. On the night of December 24, he invited me to go with him to Sydney to meet his parents. On our way to the airport, there's this drunk driver who carelessly bumps the taxi we're in.

We were both in a coma but he woke up after four months. I was sleeping for a year. When I finally woke up, I couldn't remember him.

Though I remember everything, except him. There was this blurry image of a man in my dreams that appears once in a while. I mentioned it to my parents and instead, we should go to the doctor for a consultation but I didn't pay attention to it, thinking that it was just some flash memory that the doctor mention before.

And then I met Christian... and I ignored it completely.

Christian also explained to me that for the past four years, he had been looking out for me. And on every Christmas Eve, he would come up to the shop to buy flowers for his girlfriend like he used to --who turned out to be his ex.

Christian mentioned that we met here at my own shop. He has a girlfriend back then and he bought a flower for Christmas Eve for that's the only month his girlfriend went back to Seoul for a vacation from working overseas. And on several occasions throughout the year, he visits my shop for flowers.

When their relationship got bumpy along the way, Christian said that I was the one he talked to about it. He said that little by little, he saw me in a different light. He was gradually falling for me and losing his love for his girlfriend.

And like the natural course of nature, whatever's been nurtured grows and whatever's been neglected dies.

On the Christmas eve, he went to see me and mentioned that it's almost six months since he broke up with her. And now he's ready to be with me.

And the whole year we dated and on the next Christmas Eve, we both made it official.

And on the day before Christmas, that oh so fateful day, that we decided to travel to see his parents and right there he plans to propose. But that went all the drain when the accident happened, and I lost my memories of him.

When he was done explaining, I was still in shock that I couldn't even blink. This guy, whom I was liking from afar, turns out to be mine all along. And I don't know what or how but it felt that I fall for him even more -- if that's possible.

After knowing that he did not give up on me. Waiting for someone who might just die and leave you is hard. And he even has to live knowing that the woman he loves' doesn't remember him.

I still don't remember him until now and it kind of pissed me... especially now that he's crying in front of me.

"I'm willing to wait for you to remember me. Even if it takes a lifetime before you do, I'll wait for you. I know you don't know me and I know you might not feel the same but I believe that I am for you and you are for me alone. And if fate would be so kind, it would let you remember that love you had for me, a long time ago.

I'm not asking you to love me back because I can't force you to do that but please... please let me continue on loving you even for afar until I can't feel it anymore. It hurts, Sam. I'm still hurting but I'm willing to stay by your side as your whatever. I'd be happy knowing that you let me stay with you... even as just a bystander in your life."

Without knowing, I too started crying. Even my staff that being a witness started whipping their eyes.

I may not remember him... but I hell can feel every word that he's saying. He must have loved me so much... And I'm glad to know that even tho I don't remember him and us, fate really made me remember my feelings for him.

I touched his cheek and wiped his tears away.

"I don't remember you... and I hate that I don't remember you. I want to stop the hurt you're feeling but I can't remember how to make you smile when you're feeling sad. I can't even remember the right words to say or things to do to make you happy... It's killing me not knowing, Christian."

And hearing that from me, he cried even more.

I wipe my own tears and hugged him to at least ease the hurt.

"I don't remember anything from the past..." I said as I brushed his back while he buried his face on the side of my neck. "I don't remember us... but I'm willing to make new memories with you. Because guess what?"

I tried to make him face me. And when I did, I smiled. He stopped crying and I wipe his tears while the smile on my face stayed. As I continue with what I'm saying.

"For some unknown reason... I love you... for the second time in a lifetime."

[MASTERLIST]

262 notes · View notes

pinksrs · 5 years

Text

THE PINK SERIES, VOLUME 1/PROLOGUE

CW: Death.

If you’ve ever felt like The Universe is working against you, there may very well be a point to your paranoia. If you ever felt like something wasn't a coincidence, I’m sorry to tell you you may have a point.

I’d like to tell you that The Universe is a benevolent character. I'd like to tell you that It takes your thoughts and feelings into consideration. I wish it were the type of person that minds Its manners, holds open doors, says please and thank you, and cares.

But It isn’t, and It doesn’t.

The Universe is an asshole. It’s got a sick sense of humor. Why do you think you only run into your exes when you haven’t showered in three days? That touch of sick irony is the work of The Universe. It's idea of funny is pushing people in front of trains.

That’s not to say It’s concerned with you. You may actually be paranoid, I’m afraid (and there’s nothing I can do about that). The Universe isn’t responsible for every bad thing that’s ever happened to you.

I'm sorry, but there's nobody to blame for their death.

You ought to consider yourself lucky.

When The Universe takes interest in something, it’s never pretty. It wreaks havoc, in the form of relentless circumstances we call coincidence.

Coincidence is easier to grasp than fate.

It’s easier to dismiss, too.

It should serve as some sort of comfort, though, to know that The Universe isn’t interested in you. No, you’re not on Its list of pet projects. There’s no ant farm with your name on it that the Universe picks up and shakes until your world is in shambles.

There is an ant farm labeled Duffy, though.

Boy, if you think you’ve got it bad… The Universe has really got it out for this lot.

It’s been watching them for years. In all actuality, in the long run, relative to The Universe, twenty one years is the blink of an eye. But as it so happens, The Universe isn’t the most patient of natural forces.

On the contrary, The Universe is quite childish despite being eons old. As ancient as It is, It’s still prone to temper tantrums when it doesn’t get Its way.

Rain streaked streets breathe in the night air. Steam floods the pavement and mingles with the midnight mist of the city by the bay, like condensation on one's breath. Rain in San Francisco – how original.

But in defense of The Universe, creativity’s dead. Believe it or not, It’s not actually responsible for the weather.

The rain sets the streets aglow, with fluorescent neon signs bleeding onto wet streets. Grease-stained asphalt has a kiss of color in the dark by headlights. Signs for 24/7 pharmacies, cannabis dispensaries, and burnt-out bulbs of street lamps blink. The city is alive as it ever has been.

San Francisco is advancing fast into the twenty first century. It’s not the same little town by the ocean with the fog and the trolleys anymore. It’s louder. bolder, more mature, with less fear of falling into the sea.

To the other billions of people on the planet, it’s any other night, but to one Englishman, it’s the end of the world. The Universe has been watching him the past few years, like a television show that’s always running. It only tunes in when there's nothing better to watch.

The Universe has tuned in at the perfect time.

The apartment is cramped and perched on the corner of the building. It's so close to the traffic stop outside that light dances through the window. The lights are bright enough to cast a sickly glow about the room. It cycles through crimson, emerald and gold. Each is as bad as the next. The menacing glow of red is no better or worse than the yellow light seeping across the skin like jaundice.

If he weren’t so used to them, they’d be a nuisance, but Edgar Duffy isn’t one to dwell on things he can’t change. He doesn’t dwell much of anything, actually. As boys go, he’s nothing special. He’s not the most handsome, nor tall, nor smart. But he's handsome enough, tall enough, smart enough.

He was enough, but never too much.

As of eighteen seconds ago, it was his birthday. So far, being nineteen doesn’t feel much different than being eighteen.

For a moment there, he thought it might. He thought things might be different, for once. His hopes had been too high to think a birthday with his brother could go any other way. Couldn’t they go one year without lapsing into their pattern of clenched jaws and grit teeth?

As brothers go, Edgar and Ivan Duffy aren’t the type you write home about. They’re more the type you write about in passive-aggressive posts on social media. They're the type to give thoughtless gifts to each other, bought last minute at the corner store. Takeout from the place he hates is paired with a cheap bottle of wine, and a store-bought cake.

If Ivan paid more attention to his brother, he might have a clue about what Edgar likes. The gesture is impersonal and empty. Neither of them have fooled themselves into thinking it’s anything but.

They made attempts at talking, all feeble and failed. Edgar and Ivan found that they had little more to bond over these days than schoolwork.

It's obvious that neither of them want to live together.

Edgar stares ahead at the half-full takeout box on the table, heavy brow set into a furrow. All these empty gestures are the sort of thing he’s learned not to dwell on. Instead, he's taught himself to accept this as one of the innumerable things in his life he cannot change. They were fixed and factual things he had to accept. That, or let it destroy him.

Like bad birthdays, filled with lazy attempts at siblinghood. That, and compulsory, celebratory dinners with Ivan. After nineteen years, it’s finally sunk in – some things don’t want to change.

His lips purse into a line, and at long last the words sitting on Edgar's tongue for the last hour spill out:

“You should go.”

The pair of them serve as a harsh contrast to one another. Where Ivan is a fan of black and leather, Edgar prefers tartan and denim. Where Ivan prefers chocolate, Edgar would rather have vanilla.

By no means is Edgar tall, but he towers over his older brother. Depending on whom you ask, he’s the better looking of the two, too. His features fit his face, unlike Ivan, whose ears stick out too far and whose brow hangs too heavy. Wide eyes sit deep in sunken sockets, with lips bowed into a permanent pout. The look is complete with ill-aligned teeth and rodential overbite.

The older Duffy looks a bit pathetic slouching beside his brother. Edgar’s perfect posture, mane of chestnut hair, and green eyes was a startling difference. He made Ivan’s swampy, dark eyes and thicket of black curls look like sickly mange. It didn't help that Ivan had haphazardly shaved the sides of his head.

While the relation is undeniable, it’s not willing.

Not on Ivan’s part, at least– not if he can help it. Ever since Edgar ripped his way out of their mother, Ivan made it his life’s work to separate himself.

Ivan may be two years older, but he’s not acting it. Sipping wine out of a red plastic cup doesn’t help his case in the slightest. “Go? You can’t kick me out of my own flat.” For whatever reason, his accent’s harsher than his brothers, thicker and far more clumsy on the tongue. It could be the wine staining his lips purple, but Edgar’s always suspected it’s for show. "It's your birthday."

“I don’t want you here ‘cause you’re supposed to be here,” he begins, blundering on forward. Quick! Before he can lose momentum. Edgar’s never been one for boldness. “I want you here ‘cause you wanna be here, not ‘cause you’re supposed to. You can go if you want– don’t force yourself to stay here on my account." Edgar's hands fly into the air. "‘Sides, you’ve got plans, haven’t you? You only wanted to do it tonight so you could get it out of the way and blow me off tomorrow.” His tongue clicks against his teeth as he sits forward, grabbing for his cup to wash the taste of salt out of his mouth. “Right?”

Like a deer in the headlights, Ivan rubs a hand at his jaw and looks about the room. He'll try anything if it’ll buy him time, if it will spare him having to deal with this. Oh, he’d really rather not. “I mean,” Ivan heaves a sigh. “G wanted to do something… It’s our first anniversary, y’know–”

There wasn’t a nerd alive with a bigger heart and more criticism in his veins than the likes of G Cooper. A year later, Ivan was still there. It wasn’t like it was serious, only comfortable and convenient, lazy and warm. A year, no doubt, is a bigger deal to G than it is to Ivan. As he tends to do, Ivan fails to realize exactly how big of a deal.

Edgar is quick to steer him back onto the path. He had decided early on that he didn’t like G. Something about him never sat right. “Don’t change the subject, Ivan. Don’t drag him into this.”

Ivan’s eyes narrow with a look towards Edgar, mouth taut. Can you blame him for trying?

“Am I right or not?”

“Well–”

“Ivan.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right…”

“I can’t believe–” Edgar pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut to taper off a glare. “Y’know what? Yeah, actually, I can believe it, that’s the sad part. Do you have any idea what an asshole you are?”

It’s the brashness and the source, that causes the wine to catch in Ivan’s throat. Sputtering, he manages to swallow, wiping away any drops on the back of a black sleeve. It’s not like he hasn’t been called an asshole before, but hearing it from the likes of little Eddy was obscene. They had their problems, but Edgar was a quiet kid that kept his opinions to himself. “There’ll be other birthdays, Edgar. What’s the big deal–”

“You’re going to do it on other birthdays, too! You’ve done it before, you’re doing it now, you’ll do it again. So,” Edgar scoffs, getting to his feet. “Stop forcing it; stop punishing me, Ivy.”

Ivy isn’t a name Ivan’s heard come out of Edgar’s mouth in years. He can’t help but think it seems exceptionally childish this time around. Desperate, even. It’s a subtle, passive aggressive jab. “Punishing you for what?” He may be petite, but somehow Ivan’s managing to make himself even smaller as he slouches into the sofa.

Edgar stops to flash his brother a look, his arms loaded with bowls, chopsticks, and takeout boxes. He gives a wag of his head, brown hair tossing. “You know what. When are you gonna stop blaming me and let it go?”

Now, it seems, Edgar’s hit a button. Ivan clambers to his feet, fighting gravity and a hungry sofa. “You let it go– I’ll blame you as much as I want, screw you.” Always quick to act, this one. Ivan’s never been good at getting a grip on his emotions, especially not where family’s concerned.

“She was my mum too–”

“Fuck off, she was not– you don’t get to say that.” Pint-sized fists clench at Ivan’s side. He stands his ground, as Edgar goes about his business.

His brother is calm by comparison, picking up the mess they made. Soon, it’s all piled into the garbage, except for the birthday card. “You can go now.”

There’s anger welling in Ivan’s chest, ready to boil over. Is he going to scream, or cry? Neither of them can tell. A moment passes before he realizes he’s holding his breath, like he used to do when he was a child. (He'd kill himself if their father didn’t come home that second.) “You asshole...” But Ivan trails off, eyes squeezing shut.

No, he won’t cry.

Ivan swallows down the lump in his throat as he grabs everything he can. He hastily shoves his phone into a pocket, wallet already safe in his jacket. There are more things he needs, but in his frenzy, Ivan can’t bother to remember them. All he can think to do is throw his arms out and shriek. “Fuck you, Edgar!”

Edgar may be calm, and far less dramatic than Ivan, but he feels himself bordering on hysterics. If he had it in him, he might fight to keep his brother there, but he doesn’t. They’ll put up an argument another day, but he’s tired, and his shoulders feel heavy. Can’t they table it? “Just go see G, Ivy. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah? I’m tired– you’re drunk, anyway.”

“I’m not drunk,” Ivan snaps, but he's clumsy as he pushes his way past Edgar and to the door. He leans his weight into the wall for support. “But whatever, you’re right, I don’t want to be here. It’s sick– she died and you’re making me celebrate it. It’s not fucking fair.”

“Life’s not fair, Ivan.”

“You’re right, Edgar. Life’s a bitch, then you’re fucking dead.”

The door flies open and slams shut behind him. Ivan storms into the hall, barreling down a single flight of stairs. There’s an elevator, but he doesn’t have the patience to wait. Stomping down the stairs and out the building feels right. Bursting into the night air, Ivan finds that the rain has let up.

The fog is heavier than ever, swirling at his feet and leaving steamy breath to fall from his lips. Black hood up, hands shoved into pockets, and he marches.

Where? In no time, he finds that he’s left his cigarettes and lighter at home, but there’s no way in hell he’s going back now. It calls for a quick stop at the liquor store for a pack of cigarettes and the first lighter his hand finds. Then, he let the wandering begin.

G's apartment was the destination, eventually, but for now he’s aimless. He keeps his eyes ahead and focuses on nothing more than the pavement under his boots and the wind on his face. The wind has Ivan pulling his hood back up to right it again, securing it over the tangle of curls. He feels raw without it, and far too vulnerable for comfort.

He’s always been like this. Ivan was stubborn, flighty, and keen on running away whenever the pressure got to be a little too much. He could be a diamond under all that pressure, but he fights to fly and avoid every problem. Ivan does it almost as diligently as he avoids having to spend time with Edgar.

They could get along if he’d let them; Edgar’s the sort to get along with anybody.

After nineteen years, keeping his brother at arms length has worked for him. That, and everyone else he knew.

But what of the rest of it?

The sniff is audible, wet, and sloppy as he tries to clear his sinuses of signs of distress. Sleeve balled over his fist, Ivan scrubs away at his eyes to wash away tears. He fights back the urge to throw himself onto the pavement and sob. That’s ridiculous and dramatic, and the sort of thing best saved for the bathroom floor. The shower running and the music blaring would drown him out and keep Edgar from listening. The walls of their apartment leave nothing to the imagination.

Edgar was right about one thing.

He is drunk, Ivan admits to himself when he stops to lean heavy into a brick wall, looking down the length of the alley.

This isn’t familiar territory, and if Ivan were smarter, he’d be more wary of dark alleys on darker nights.

If he were sober, he'd pay attention.

If he were smarter, or sober, he’d have noticed the soft sound of boots falling against wet pavement. Something is stalking and creeping, with lips curved into a sneer.

A predator lurks, ready to snap.

Ivan pushes himself from the wall to right himself, swaying when he stands. The hood slips back over his head and falls down. Eyes shut in time for hot tears to boil over. It doesn’t count if they never reach his cheeks. Still, he’s not stopping them or wiping them away.

Not until the sound of gravel underfoot catches his attention. He rounds on his heel to turn and face whatever is in the alley with him. In a whirl of fog and alcoholic haze, of loose curls and tears in his eyes, Ivan can hardly make anything out, save for a looming figure.

Before he can process a single thing, everything gets cut by the flick of a wrist, a tug, a scream, and the last desperate whimpers of a heart still kicking.

#pink chapters #pls don't reblog thanks #lms if u read tho

5 notes · View notes

thefallenarbiter · 6 years

Photo

READ ME!!!!!

>>>>>>> NOTE!!! DRAWING WITH EVERYONE's CHARACTER WHO WAS NOTIFIED TO THIS POST IS TOWARDS THE MIDDLE!!<<<<<<<<

SPEED PAINTS/ PROCESS OF ART

---------HERE 1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_ZxtQ6RhA4 HERE ---------

2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vys4D71bgAw&feature=youtu.be

3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=592zJhAAFok

STORY WITH DRAWING DOWN HERE

--------------------------------- ----------------------------- ---------------------

-------------

-------

---

Midnight Trick and Treat

“This is the perfect chance to take all those snacks,” Olive said with such glee that I had to glance over to make sure they didn't hear her. Evia hushed her before she could let out another booming cry of desire. Olives ears quickly perked down, a pout was on her face from being hushed. I watched as Evia rolled her eyes but gave a quick lick to her ears. The fur on Olive's cheeks somehow turned a rosy red from blushing. But her ears perked back up, a wolfy grin was on her face again.

I held in a groan. This was was not a good plan. We were hidden between the grass, its long blades kept both me and Olive hidden but Evias horns poked through when she shifted her weight. Looking back at the ground I watched as they chatted between one another. I noticed a pattern as one would move their mouths and the others would laugh not long after. Olive followed my gaze but her eyes were stuck on the unguarded bags of treats.

A devilish grin formed on Olives face, ”We gotta get those treats. Ill split all the bags with you two.” she said.

“I dunno Olive, It doesn't sound like a very good-” I stopped when I looked back over at Olive. A grin was placed on her mouth while her eyes tarted between me and the treats. I nearly shivered when I looked at Evia. Half her face was hidden behind Olives but I could see her eyes narrowed dangerously at me with a scowl. When our eyes met she started to mouth something to me. I stared at her mouth, what is she trying to say to me-..Oh. Her claws began to tap the ground impatiently.

I laughed softly, ”Oh god Olive, I knew leaving all the ideas to you was just a fantastic idea! Nothing will go wrong!” I said with the biggest, fakest smile I could muster. You couldn't blame me for lying. You really couldn't when you were stuck between pleasing a giant warrior and a tiny dog who could make you regret anything if you upset her.

“S-so what's our plan?” I asked, the tapping stopped. I held back a sigh of relief at least one of them is pleased with my answer.

“Oh it's pretty simple, we're gonna sneak up right up to them and they won't even notice a thing! It's gonna be great!”

Oh my god, we're going to die. Were so dead. Dead,dead,dead. She's going to get us killed! I laughed nervously. Maybe I can eat a few candies before they catch us. Yeah, that sounds less bad than dying on an empty stomach I thought. The panic I was feeling felt less bad when I thought of this.

“Well, we better get this over and done with! I'm just DYING to get all that candy.”

Olive must have agreed with me because her face lit up but quickly disappeared in the mass of grass as she crawled away.

Evia smirked at me, ”If all hell breaks loose and I have to choose one of you, I'm choosing Olive.” her smirk widened when my eyes grew in size with my mouth agape. She quickly slithered after Olive. I stayed where I was for a moment before following suit. The grassed softly brushed my sides as I crawled through slowly. When I lost sight of Evia I peeked my head out to see a large white wolf sitting on a bench. I tilted my head as a bag of candy was right under them. They were distracted by the messages on their phone. I peered at the candy and nearly sighed in relief. The wire was under their leg to keep it from falling which meant one less person after us during the run.

I quickly hid back into the safety of the grass and proceeded to follow the scent of both Evia and Olive. My ears tilted towards the left at the sound of rushing water. I suddenly felt thirsty but pushed on. I spent a few seconds crawling before stopping. Evia was facing me and when she saw me she pushed me past her. When I was right next to Olive she stopped, I glanced around than stared at Olive puzzled.

Her eyes moved to the area ahead of us, I followed her gaze than wished I had made them both upset. The group was right in front of us, each one chatting away as their bags laid helplessly on the bench closest to them. I looked back at Olive who looked at me expectantly. I quickly looked away so she wouldn't see my panicked expression.

I slowly began to crawl forward and paused when one of them shifted more than 60 degrees. When I made it to the bench safely, I observed the bags, each had different animals which held the candies inside. I slowly moved my head forward, grabbing of the largest bag which Evia helped me put down. Once it was released she had a firm hold on the end. I then grabbed ahold of two sets of strings, I pulled softly until the bags were softly nestled on the ground. Olive reached forward, bit onto the wires and held them in her mouth like Evia.

I glanced at the last bag, it's pumpkin eyes staring intently at me. I gulped nervously. I

slowly took a step forward with my head outward to bite the string. With a snap, the twig underneath my claws broke in half. Any conversation that the group had halted, they all turned towards me all at once to see the source of the noise.

I smiled nervously, ”Hello! My name is Sona. It's nice to meet all of you-” I paused when Olive and Evia made a run for it. The group let out shocked cries looking between me and the runaways. I bit into the wire and made a dash for it. The sounds of feet stomping and yelling were right behind me. This is all Olives fault.

Birthday gift for @Spoopy-snek

Don't kill me pls

So For your bday, I decided to draw a group picture that involves your friends. Side note I'm sorry if I forgot anyone. I tried finding everyone and drawing them but again I'm sorry if I forgot anyone.;n; But If I did miss any close friend go ahead and comment saying that you were forgotten so when I do something big like this again I can add all her friends.

Happy Birthday old lady!!!! I hope you have a fantastic bday and get to celebrate it, friends and family. DONT DO DRUGS. Drugs are restricted on your bday and I will steal all dem drugs for myself >: ) BUt ANyway… Happy birthday to my closest buddy! <33333 You mean so much to me and always got to use your bday as a way to spoil you with love and art cuz you deserve it!!! Even tho you're a major butthead but two can play with fire!!! I really hope you have a fantastic day!! you so much. I'm so thankful to have met you and I can't believe we've been friends for 6 years???!!! Wow, time really flies I can't believe we're so old now. You meet me when I was basically a smol gorl. Like much wow were both getting so freaking old. (as my lollipop decides that falling is a better idea than living,,,) But again I'm so freaking thankful we're friends, you've been there for me for so long and I can't thank you enough for sticking with my ugly butt. You helped me through much whether it be mentally or with anything. You've been there for me and when I get money I'm gonna try to repay you for everything that you've helped me through with gifts. You're my closest friend Olivia and without you, I would be in a different place. I doubt I would be the same if it weren't for you. You always had my back no matter once. Every time I lost someone close to me whether it be family or relationship wise you've helped me stay strong and keep going. Honestly ilu so much you big softy and I'm so sorry we don't hang out enough. I really want to return the favor and help you in any way I can because you're my best friend Olivia. Were both total nerds and goofballs who love videos games way to much and basically kill our characters lmao. I can't wait to spend the rest of our life as besties. We need to seriously meet in person tho. We have been friends for so long but I only ever see you through your photos. We have to meet eventually because your my best friend and we've been through thick and thin together. If we don't meet I'm sending the squirrel after you!!!! I'm so glad we have each other even if we lost all our other friends through time even tho I miss them, I can't wait to spend our time together through hell and heaven. We're gonna kick life's butt and get through everything together. Hopefully, we both can hang out more often because we're both busy bees and never get the chance ;n; I still can't believe we both happened to join DA around the same time and managed to start talking right after. If it weren't for you I would have been dead on that website a year after I joined. Anyway, ilu and I wish you the biggest Happy Birthday you spoopy butt. I would attempt to give you the biggest hug I can muster but my arms are too short :,,,D

Explanation of each drawing

Golden Skull Zayn with Olive ----- When I did the three doodles in the speedpaint I was planning a creepy vibe with each one. So for this one I wanted to show off the fact that parts of Zayn are indeed made of gold. It was meant to go with his design just to fit the color combo but I decided that any character that has future sight have gold parts to them. It would be very rare for a kaian to have all gold bones but I figured it would fit the prophet when they start to loose their mind to the visions. There's always a price to pay when you can see into the future. Poor Olive just happened to be around when he ripped the skin off during one of his major visions. But don't worry she lives and he gets his face back.

Sona and Loch ------- I wanted to have Sona soothing one of Lochs sessions of pain. Not much to say here other than I wanted to have her kind of grumpy looking and comfort him since in our story for them she kinda uses him for bad to get what she wants so she gets a body.

Olive's Secret Protector ---------- Again not much to say other than Evia is using her dark powers to blend into the shadows to keep an eye on olive.

Run Run from the Scary Mob ------ The main drawing that I spent the most time on that comes with a speedpaint. For this one I wanted to show off our main characters plus a side character that she loves. When I made this I realized I wanted to make it big just for Olivia so I decided to include all her friends that I could think of or find. Each character is dressed in something to show off the fact that each one is trick and treating for Halloween. I'm pretty proud of how everyone turned out and how most the background turned out.

Experiment Brewing ------ A little sketch where I had an idea that maybe Olive wasn't a real Kaian and was actually a experiment made by the banished shadow go. I like the idea that maybe he made her so he could put himself into a form onto the home planet of the Kaians than seek the other gods out for revenge. This was before he used Evia as a host even if she's in control. He hoped that when Olive was ready he could take her body over. Sadly the scientist who made her on the home planet did not complete the project and Olive had gone missing when the lab was destroyed. Funny thing is that not long after Olive was found by Evia when in a field of flowers. The god believes Olive is dead but I like to think that he takes over Olive during the final battle to use her to summon him when the other banished god is summoned by Calla. If he did succeed in taking her body over than she would look like her portals. I like the idea of the gods portals and powers looking like this but his are purple. The crystals on her help power the portals and powers she uses which are basically just like the gods expect weaker since she couldn't handle all his power in her body.

Selfie ----- A head doodle to show off Olives looks frontview. First concept sketch of how she would look. Also based on one of Olivia's doodles of Olive with crystals imbedded in her body. I decided to expand on that.

Design ---- A design for Olivia to repay the design she made for me >:0

Thirsty as heckles ---- Olive ready for some Evia but decided on the way to bed that she also likes Zayn a lot. Evia stops what they planned to go find Zayn.

Official Design for Olive as a experiment ---------. I wanted to show off the fact that she would be constantly dripping from the gods powers that she barely holds in her body.

This is War ------- Zayn has a vision in a different timeline where Olive chooses Evia over him and betrays him by killing him. He mistakes it for it being in this timeline and plans to repay the debt by killing them first. Looks like everyone has to fight with the person they love eventually.

Left to right are the corresponding characters belonging to their creators

Big brown and green wolf, Evia dressed as Dracula belongs to me

Tiny yellow doge, Olive wearing snake onesie belongs tp @spoopy-snek

smol purple and blackbird, Sona dressed as a messed up Egyptian belongs to me

spooky dog on a broom, Ney dressed as a witch belongs to @neyzilla

Purple dragon in sleeping wear, Hobbes dressed in a dragon onesie belongs to @hobbledragon

Tall skelelly boi being attacked by hungry doggy, Calabaza dressed as a skelly belongs to @anxietywithaspook

The white dog that shakes, Milk belongs to @milkfake

Mummy that is so done with you, Wilhelm dressed a mummy belongs to @wilhelm-the-undead-man

A woman who wants her candy back, Shaman dressed as a literal Shaman belongs to @missmcgregor

10 notes · View notes

osmw1 · 6 years

Text

Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 12

‘That might be likely…’

Veno pings and highlights outside, then mutters.

‘You were experimenting with your new skill, did you not?’

Ah, right. How I slew that rat.

‘You had released all that poison on the monster trail. It is possible that something or someone walked into it and succumbed to it.’

That’s ridiculous… How do people even earn experience points in this world?

‘With some exceptions, the quintessence of the defeated cannot be earned if one is too far away…’

As our discussion goes on, the rowdiness outside dies down. I stand stealthily by the window side and peer out. On display outside of the inn was the corpse of the Rose Grey Swordhorn I saw before I went to bed. It’s become a spectacle and there are quite some people surrounding it. Some adventurers are tipping and throwing money in. Moreover, there seems to be merchants discussing some kind of trade.

“It seemed like it’s been weakened, so we decided to capture it alive. We’ve done alright, hey?” “Thank you so much for tonight!” “Casualties were minimal too.” “We’d be rich if this happened all the time!”

The adventurer who captured the Rose Grey Swordhorn brought it to the merchant who seems to be the requester. No way, don’t tell me…

‘… that is what it seems like. It would be a safe to believe that the Rose Grey Swordhorn was weakened by the poison you threw down.’

It’d make sense that I leveled up so much. But even then, is the concentrated swamp toxin really that powerful?

‘Do not make light of poison. Furthermore, Rose Grey Swordhorns are not monsters from the swamp and they have not resistance against it. The poison must have circulated in its system, weakening it, and then the adventurers captured it.’

I don’t know whether to consider myself lucky or not. Well, seeing how I doused the monster’s path with poison, it’s quite likely that it was afflicted by an abnormal status. How does everything seem to work out for me? That, in turn, makes me even more anxious.

‘Consider it an unexpected godsend. By the way, shall we snatch the corpse of the Rose Grey Swordhorn before they cut it up?’

Give me a break. They’re obviously going to go crazy looking for whoever stole it!

‘Aye… In my prime, I would not bat an eye, but it is dangerous to do so now. Not only are we in hiding, it is also not something with which we should get involved. Forgive my mistake.’

Why did you even suggest doing it?

‘Aye. It seemed like as if they were to dress the monster and sell the meat. Since it was poisoned by you, I was merely wondering if it would be fit for weaker humans to feed upon.’

Gah! Wouldn’t that be disastrous? It’d be no joke if I were to wipe out the entire village in a night.

‘Hence that is why I suggested to snatch the corpse… Oh, the village apothecary noticed the meat has been tainted and is preparing some sort of agent to neutralize it. That girl is coming over here.’

Arleaf is? Maybe I should play it cool and go say hi to her. What should I do? … I’d look pretty suspicious if I did that. Like, she found me unfazed by both the poisonous swamp and the miasma. If I appeared in front of a powerful monster that had been poisoned, it’d stand out way too much. It would probably be better if I said I was fast asleep and didn’t know a thing about it. Just to be safe.

‘After all, we are being hunted. That girl had been so kind to us. We should not get her involved in this and bring her any more trouble. You should understand better than anyone.’

I can’t say I really feel the same too, but I know you’re right. Well, we gotta do every little bit to raise our chances of survival… That’s how we get to live another day. With that, I stole some of the adventurers’ experience points and went back to sleep.

The next morning, after a good amount of sleep, I wake up feeling ready to take on the world. … I’d like to believe that it isn’t because I soaked in so much poison yesterday. I set off from the inn for breakfast… is it going to be tough steak and vegetable scraps soup again? I don’t know if I even have a choice. Can’t my meals rank up just a little bit?

“You gon’ be stayin’ here today too?” “Uhh, yes, tonight too, please.” “You got it.”

I hand over the money to stay another night. It really helps me that it’s cheap, but how much longer will I have the money to stay here?

“Oh, there’s a cold spreadin’ around these parts lately, so you best take care of yourself, Cohgray.” “Understood, ma’am.”

A cold, eh? … don’t wanna catch one of those. I’ll be extra careful.

‘I could make you a vaccine. Though I am interested in whether you will catch a cold or not.’

How dare you treat me like a guinea pig?! Ah, whatever… the plan today is to advance my class at the dungeon. When I was a student, I gamed quite a bit. I had even played quite a few tabletop RPGs and MMOs. So, to find out that I can actually change and advance jobs, it really widens my horizons.

‘Aye… it is like recreation of your parallel world. Tabletop… hmm. After this ordeal is over, it might not be so bad to try my hand at it too.’

Veno mutters to himself after peering into my memories. I’d love for him to stop spying on my memories so much.

‘I am just bored.’

Yeah, sure.

‘Speaking of which, I have almost finished processing the pelt of the Midnight Blue Wolf that you had defeated yesterday. I have yet to properly tan it, but after that, you should have a product to sell. It might also be a good idea to fashion it into a bag for you to use.’

He’s sure accomplished lots in the meantime. You’re bored even after such a challenging activity?

‘It is hard living as a dragon without knowing a few ways to kill time.’

He said that with what seems to be smugness. That’s fine. However… Veno, you ate all of the meat from the Midnight Blue Wolf, right? You didn’t gnaw on the leather too because of your oral fixation, did you?

‘Would you not stop treating me with such disdain!’

Seems like I hit the bull’s-eye on that one. Is the Midnight Blue Wolf pelt really alright being soaked in your spit?

‘You… perchance, you know not of the procedures of processing pelt? No, judging by your knowledge, it seems like you believe that pelt is instantly transformed into fur or leather just by stripping it off the flesh.’

Huh, you mean it isn’t? Well, all the experience I’ve had of processing pelt is anything that was in a game, so there would be quite a high chance that I’m wrong.

‘Is it not obvious that you are incorrect? First, strip the skin off the flesh and thoroughly clean it. Since poison has a sterilization effect, I mixed some water from the swamp with marphina and applied it to the skin. I then consume the meat left on the skin and dry the skin out.’

I can only imagine Veno sucking the moisture out from the skin with his mouth.

‘Then, after moderately drying it out, I apply a mixture of swamp toxin and rock salt to the skin. It is imperative to take some time so that the ingredients get familiar with the pelt. Currently, I am at this stage.’

I feel as if he’s a pro at this complicated process, but even then, it seems like it is a lot of work to make some fur or hide. Even though it’s completely automated for me, it’s quite the bother for Veno.

‘If we supply ourselves with some tools or drugs, I shall be able to create an even finer final product. It would not hurt to keep it in mind.’

Even if you put it that way… But anyway, if you use all that poison to treat the skin, won’t there be any ill effects on the person equipping it?

‘It shall be fine as long as we store some well water with storage magic so that we can clean the skin.’

Is that true? Veno’s lecture of hide tanning distracted us from our original train of thought. After all that, we arrive at the town hall to find adventurers sporadically gathering here. As I thought, the request postings refresh everyday in the morning.

Now then, is there nothing that I can do to earn some money while avoiding the lot from the who are chasing us? It would make sense to look at requests I can fulfill while I’m on my way to or at the swamp. Does Arleaf take requests from here too? While that thought is in my head, I looked for Arleaf… but she is nowhere to be seen. Well, that’s okay… I’m sure I’ll get to see her somewhere or other.

I accept a request for poisonous herbs. Not medicinal herbs, mind you, but poisonous ones. That’s kinda sad somehow. Since in a game, they’d start you off with a gathering quest for the safer herbs. Nevertheless, if I know what I’m looking for, I’m sure I’ll complete it in no time. That, and they specified an amount this time…

‘I am still able to hold a lot more with my storage magic. We should gather all that we can, so it would be easier for us in the future.’

Well, as long as we can use them all before they go bad, it wouldn’t hurt to do so. Our objective for the day is to advance my class… I’m at the stage where I should learn more about my surroundings and some common knowledge of this world. Since I have a clear picture of my goal, I walked towards the swamp of poison, just as I did yesterday.

It was easier getting here today than yesterday. Not only do I already have three times the experience I had, just as importantly, I’ve also familiarized myself with the way there. I encountered the same vines, mosquitos, and beetles, but they are no match for me anymore. My sword feels lighter and the enemies seem weaker. Maybe it’s because I’ve simply levelled up. That’s what they call experience, huh?

I quickly arrived at the swamp of poison, and Midnight Blue Wolves… are not around? If there were, though, I could always show them how I fight—escaping to the swamp. And moreover, I’ll blast them with poison stronger than what I could make last time.

It’s just that, well… thanks to my Poison Absorption, the swamp is as comfortable as flowing hot springs. I’ll just pop in for a quick bath before I go home today too. I’m self-aware that I’m really testing my luck with this parallel world, but it’s not like I’m doing anything immoral.

‘Indeed… you can replenish your reserves of swamp toxin as well. You are not doing anything unscrupulous.’

While picking anything that might be useful, I make my way to the dungeon, the one that I went to with Arleaf yesterday. I find the dank, musty room I was looking for. I check out the dilapidated stone altar in here. Hmm? There’s some kind of symbol or statue made of stone that’s been smashed. Is it just me or does it kinda look like a dragon?

‘Either way it may be, I am not sure.’

I thought it’d be a statue of Mother Mary or something like that.

‘There are those who place religious symbols like that as well. Such is the difference between different sects of the church.’

Incidentally, which denomination do the guys who are chasing you belong to?

‘They are of the Teachings of the Sacred Yggdrasil… it is a faith that originates from a tree that a gang of elves worshipped. It was a joint task force between that and the Church of Saint Oevarl. That country has two concurrent religions in play.’

The Teachings of the Sacred Yggdrasil, huh? Hmm… there too are world trees in the world? How fantastical.

‘Heh… there is naught left but pitiable remains of what the elves have exploited.’

Is it just my imagination or does it seem like Veno is ridiculing them?

‘It might seem that way because I am. Elves are the picture of haughtiness. They hogged the blessings of the forest while they ostracized the other races.’

From what I’ve read in the classics, that’s certainly how they’re portrayed as. Moreover, it’s the translation of “elves” that Veno is talking about, so they’re not even the elves of fiction from Earth. So that’s how the elves of this world are.

‘Aye. While they sing their songs with the forest, they monopolized the blessings of the world tree. As they anticipated the end of the world tree, they shifted the responsibility to the future generation and wrested power from the sapling. In the end, the world tree withered, and they lost their home. For that, they blamed other races and instigated wars. That is how things ended up how they are currently. They truly are a foolish people.’

What the hell? A religion like that survives ‘til today?

‘A small fraction of them took tender care of the sapling that narrowly survived. The remnants of that tribe live amongst humans. They grandly spread their religion so that they may survive another day.’

Ah, so the righteous bunch healed the tree, and this is where we are now. I’d glad that there are people who aren’t complete garbage in this universe.

‘… it would have been fine to just wipe out this world.’

Since they’re the guys who are after us, Veno doesn’t hold back. But because they’re also coming after my head as if it’s fair, they can’t be a good bunch either. I’m sure there’s all kinds of people though.

‘It matters not whichever it may be. What matters now is having them let us use their religious symbol.’

Well, you’ve got a point. It’s not like I care much about their personal history.

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /next/ (full list of translated chapters) (discussion thread) (support Average Translations)

#Poison-Wielding Fugitive #PWF #Average Translations #osm #毒使いの逃亡者

2 notes · View notes

jamievoiceover-blog · 6 years

Text

How Life is Strange has affected me - Who am I?

I’m Jamie and I love Life is Strange. It’s a bit complicated on how to explain how I found out about it, and what has happened since then but I’m going to try my best to fit it into this post. I found out about Life is Strange 3 years ago in January 2015. My friend Vince recommended it to me after I played through Telltale’s The Walking Dead and The Wolf Among Us. I played the demo of it one afternoon after college. I was pretty tired and didn’t feel too great (which will come into play later). I remember liking the demo enough to buy the season pass and finishing the episode that night. I felt a connection towards Max and liked the inclusion of a rewind mechanic towards a choice based game.

Between episode one and two, I skipped class due to illness. I felt unmotivated all the time and every now and again I was getting stomach pains, so I decided to stack episodes two, three and play four whenever it drops at midnight. That was a mistake because I had no idea that it would emotionally destroy me at 5 in the morning. I had so many questions that I wanted answers to, and mainly find people to discuss the game with, so I went to Reddit.

I posted about an idea that I had for a podcast, the name and what would be an ideal number of hosts for an episode. That’s how I met Joey and the Blackwell Podcast was published on August 30th 2015. However, the following Monday was just a bad experience.

I woke up and I was in unimaginable pain. I could hardly move, and I could not keep any food in my system. I was living on water for 3 days. The Thursday was when blood was coming up.I was rushed to the hospital at 1 am and after one x-ray the on call doctor knew what it was; Crohn’s Disease.

Crohn’s is a chronic form of IBD which is mainly to do with your intestines and can cause inflammation from anywhere in your digestive system. Symptoms can be weight loss, fatigue, vomiting and stomach pain. There is no known cause for why people contract it, but I feel like stress is why I got it. 2014 fucking sucked.

(I currently live in Northern Ireland, but that wasn’t always the case. I lived in England for about 4 years with my dad’s side of the family. Every Friday morning before school, I was dropped off at my grandparent’s house to have breakfast and my Granddad would walk me to school. He is the reason why I am so passionate about video games. He introduced me to games which he played on his Xbox. After I moved I visited him twice. Once was to visit friends from my old school, and the other was for a party. I hugged him before I left for home. I still don’t know why I did. He isn’t an affectionate guy.

Flash forward to November 2013. My parents sit me down and tell me he had lung cancer. He had until August. My dad and I said as soon as I finished that year of school, I’d fly over and say my goodbyes. February came. I was sitting in the study hall, where I was called to reception. I had no idea what was going on. Then my dad walked in. His eyes were red and he hardly spoke. We got into the car and he told me what happened. My Granddad died that morning. I was in tears, I had no idea how to cope so I did the only thing I was comfortable with. Cry and keep to myself. Unfortunately that led me to getting kicked out of school because I never saw help for my classes and my grades were too low.

I met someone around that time, and I was an emotional wreck that I kind of opened my doors to them. Let’s call them Lee. Lee was a decent enough person who was funny and kind. We bonded over the next few months. I was even going to go visit them. However, they just left me 4 months later. They accused me of loving them, but I was trying not to lose someone in my life that I had considered family. They just left. It hurt and I still haven’t recovered from it. This is why I blame myself for being too stressed that year and why I think I got Crohn’s)

I spent a month in that hospital trying to get a somewhat decent life back but I was too bad for medication so I had to have surgery. I had quite a bit of my small intestine removed and a part of my large intestine. The recovery was a pain because I felt in pain from the surgery, and then you got the pressure of trying to walk, do tasks by yourself and just try and eat again. I was out within 4 days of the surgery. I don’t like thinking about the recovery process so let’s get back to Life is Strange.

I got a new computer because I wanted to do more with the podcast and play Episode 5 on it so I could try and make this a fun distraction of getting back to health. It was. I kept making the podcast and I loved every moment. We even started doing interviews and I started to get a feeling of pride in something that myself and Joey made together in such a short time.

However, the main focus was to get my health increased physically, which meant I totally neglected my mental health. Currently I am on 45mg of anti-depressants which do either one of two things for me: make me very tired or seem spaced out. This is why the episodes I’ve recorded the past year or so I’ve seemed a tad distant on interviews or episode discussions.

Today was the podcast’s interview with Ashly Burch and mental health came up. Ashly opened up about being in therapy and I expressed that no matter what happens, that you got to take life at its own pace. It made me want to write this post. I briefly talked about how I kind of relate to Chloe in a sense, and want to expand on it here.

Have there been negatives in my life? Yes. But I learn from them. I’ve had so many cancelled and delayed plans but I try my best to learn from them. It’s why I keep Life is Strange so close to my heart. It gives me a sense of strength that I never thought was possible. I don’t know what I’d be without this game. It really has made me a better person.

I have made so many friends, met so many people who worked on this amazing franchise.

This post is to people who are involved with Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before The Storm. It’s a thank you. Thank you for making something that connected to me so deeply and gave me a reason to fight.

I know some of you know of that I have Crohn’s, but my mental health is as important as my physical.

#lifeisstrange

5 notes · View notes

thechampagnelovers · 3 years

Note

Okay is it possible that it was SUPER early when you replied to that ask? Are you sleeping well? 👀

Happy to hear you are catching up with the fam! Since I don‘t really live near an ocean I always get that nostalgic feeling when I think about it so I guess that is why I asked... it‘s quite cool you have that opportunity semi-easily to just go there. I‘ve never been to South America but ever since I‘ve been writing to you I have looked it up a bit. Man it does have some beautiful places! I know you said you‘d like to live in London one day (I always wanted to too, or maybe Oslo, god I love Norway) but tell me more about what you love about your roots and your country!

And that story about your brother... oh no! That‘s just shitty luck. :// It must have been so stressful in that moment I understand that it felt like a big deal then. Just happy nothing went wrong!

Well you can be proud of yourself for buying it then! And when you spend your own money on stuff it is just that much sweeter, right? I can‘t wait to get a job when the covid situation has finally calmed down a bit again. The numbers are starting to finally look a bit better but we are nowhere near less restrictions. I am not that depressed by it anymore though or at least today... today is a good day! I am trying to really enjoy that. Put on some cute (but comfy) clothes, read a bit of my book (finally reading The Giver, it‘s like a children‘s book actually but it is so good) and doing some self care...

Sorry went way off there! Don‘t worry about the edit, it will happen when it happens and now I am just excited for it! So happy to hear you have been doing this like writing and painting and reading of course. Balance is important and stuff and I am going nowhere. x

P.S OMG YOU JUST POSTED THE FIC (or a chapter at least) I AM SO EXCITEDDDD! My good night story hahaha xxx

i think it was midnight lol jfjkds i’ve been sleeping okay i guess, i go to bed around 2 and wake up at 11 am so dkjjksdllkdf im sleeping for sure

OKAY BUT THATS SOOO CUTE???!?!?!?! beer nony you’re awesome. argentina is just such a beautiful country, i haven’t been to every province but i’ve travelled a lot of it, there are cities, rainforest, mountains, snow, beach, rainfalls and woods and lakes and rivers. my favourite part of my country is probably the patagonia, i love visiting during whale season in september, but i also really like living so close to the city too

i knoooow fjskjfs all my fam assumed he was with me, but still, they couldn’t be sure and he’s only 5 so its not fun, but luckily nothing happened

ughhh dont talk to me about work, i need one asap but until we have classes back in campus i wont be able to get one, everything is so uncertain here :/ and i get it, everyday in quarantine can be full of ups and downs, so its nice when you feel happy <3 i love your self care plan, sounds exactly like mine! lol

i will make you something, but idk inspiration comes in waves, sometimes im more in the mood for editing, sometimes for writing, others for painting or reading, yk how it is

OMGGGG I KNOOOOOW its chapter 1 of 3! i finished chapter 2 now, and until thats done beta-ing, ill be done with chapter 3 (which i’ve been writting a little today) please tell me your thoughts on it when you’re done!

#beer nony #ask #personal

0 notes

ghostxofxartemis · 3 years

Text

Midnight Rannoch

Summary: Shepard just took down a Reaper on Rannoch all the while Kaidan was in the vehicle. Watching feeling useless and terrified he might lose the man he loves.

Shepard and his team returns to the Normandy, and get's a surprise visit in his captain's cabin.

Pairing: M!Shenko

Rating: M. Contains sexual content.

With all these beautiful M!Shenko art going around, I wanted to (re)-post this. I’m not sure I posted this before haha. I really need to write Kaidan’s POV someday.

This was my first post on AO3. It’s also my first fanfic I wrote after dusting off my laptop after almost 8 years of being tucked away with no use. So my writing is a bit rusty. I had a blast writing this, though! Hope you enjoy reading it!

AO3 also under the line.

I watch Allers as she turns towards my door to head down the elevator, she sways her hips as she walks away from me, on purpose- I know this, even after I told her to keep it professional, I know what she wants, but I’m not interested. For more than one reason, first one being she’s a reporter. I don’t have a good track record with them. Secondly, I’m with Kaidan.

To be honest, I didn’t really think Kaidan and I would have ever become a thing. After Ashley’s death, we both took it hard and confided into each other. Kaidan knew Ashley and I were interested in each other during our time on the SR1, for we flirted a lot on the ship and on the battlefield, but we still kept it professional, she was a subordinate after all. We had talked about seeing how things would go after we stopped Saren. But as it turns out nothing was going to happen. I had to make a choice back on Virmire, and I chose my Staff Lieutenant.

Kaidan and I had been heart broken over Ashley’s death, we all had become very close friends. As we confided together over Ashley’s and remembering Jenkin’s death, although our time with him was short, I started growing feelings for Kaidan too. At first I wasn’t sure what it was, but after Horizon, after seeing Kaidan and seeing his expression, and how he expressed his feelings on how he felt betrayed, I felt like he had stabbed me in the heart. No other opinion mattered as much as his did. That’s when I knew I loved him. But I never shared that with the crew - though I think Joker suspected.

When Kaidan revealed his feelings for me at Apollo, I was very happy to know Kaidan had felt the same, I was beginning to think the electricity between us was just my imagination. I was glad that I had been wrong - for once.

I think the crew has noticed my demeanor has changed slightly since Kaidan and I reconciled, and well, decided to become an item, though they would never say so to me personally. I have to admit, having someone in all this, someone to talk to at night has helped take some of the weight off my shoulders, but not all, for everyone is still looking up to me to win this damn war.

With Allers interview done, and her finally out of my cabin, my rounds done, I step in the shower in the head in my cabin. A nice hot shower to wash off Rannoch’s dust was really what I need right now. What a fight. Facing down the Reaper head on on foot like that and with no Thresher Maw to take it down this time. I didn’t think I was going to make it, but I wasn’t going to allow the geth to remain under its control anymore.

I know Kaidan is furious with me. He might have hidden his feelings behind the words “yeah… let’s talk later,” when I went to go see him and James in the Lounge while they had their poker game, but I know what he is feeling. I hate doing this to him. Still, that feeling doesn’t change the fact that his tone really turned me on, his husky voice when it became all authoritative always seemed to provoke this reaction in me. Kaidan in the bedroom was a completely different man from outside the bedroom. After lathering myself with soap, I pour shampoo in my hand, and start passing my hands on scalp and watch the water take on a brownish colour. I like to think it’s washing the days stress away, even if it’s only a little.

I turn the water off, grab a towel and dry myself off, I figured I'd better start writing my report to send off to Admiral Hackett. Even though I did brief him in the QEC earlier, he still likes to receive a written report. I throw the towel on the floor in the bathroom - I’ll deal with it tomorrow, I just can’t be bothered with it right now, and slip on my pants. I don’t bother with zipper and the belt buckle. I just let my uniform pants be held up by hips, honestly I don’t even know why I bothered putting them on -I’m not planning on leaving my cabin for the rest of the evening- but I do.

I grab a datapad and stand in front of the fish tank. The water from the filter soothes my nerves as I start writing my report in front of my fish. I see them swimming around, and the ills slithering in the tank in my peripheral vision and think how nice it must be to be unaware that your impending doom is near when my datapad gets taken out of my hand abruptly, I feel a hand between my shoulder blades pushing me, and suddenly I’m pressed up against the glass of my fish tank and my pants are bunched up around my ankles. Cool recycled air kisses my skin and causes me to shiver. Kaidan kicks my leg a bit so my legs spread out as far as my pants allow them to go.

I knew I shouldn’t have bothered putting them on. I knew this was coming, I heard it in his tone earlier and he knows that I like it when he takes charge in the bedroom - it’s the only time I don’t have to be in charge and sometimes I need a damn break. Someone to take charge, even if it’s only for a bit. But where the hell did Kaidan come from?! I didn’t even hear him come into the cabin!

A hard spank on the ass, and I can’t help but slip a moan. The pain from the contact is sudden and hard, but it's enough to help me forget today’s earlier event but only for a moment, for Kaidan doesn’t allow me to forget. “What the hell were you thinking Shepard?!” Another hard spank, another quick jolt of pain that gets me excited. “Kaidan…” I whimper his name, and that riles him up even more. “No! Not a word! Not a sound - nothing!” Kaidan growls as he grips the back of my neck with his hand and squeezes tight and brings his lips close to my ear, he lowers is voice and whispers in his husky voice “And don’t fucking move”. A shiver goes down my spine as I feel his breath on my skin and it begins to prickle, and he’s already driving me crazy and he hasn’t even started yet. I bite my lower lip to suppress a moan in anticipation of what is to come.

I hear him go down the steps, I know he is going to his side of the bed, to get the bottle of lube he most definitely picked up the same day we went to Apollo’s, I bet even before we met up to eat. He’ll never admit it though. I hear the click of the lid opening and a squirt. He is definitely getting his fingers ready. He walks up the steps and stands behind me. “Are you crazy?! Facing a Reaper head on! On foot... no less?!” he growls this in my ear as he starts circling my entrance with a slick cool finger, and I squeeze my neither cheeks together, an involuntary reaction to his finger.

Fuck! Him getting mad at me really gets me excited, and I feel my cock twitching as the blood flow starts making its way down to my groin making it hard. I bite down on my lip even harder, but it doesn’t stop the moan from slipping through and that rewards me with another hard spank on the ass. “You could’ve died Shepard! And I don’t know what I would have done!” his slick index finger slides in and my hips push backward into it. That earns me another spank and another slick finger slides in my entrance.

I feel myself starting to stretch a little, and he starts scissoring and thrusting his fingers to help stretch my opening even more, preparing me for the eventuality that is surely to come. My legs are shaking because the sensation feels good, but it drives me crazy because it’s not all of him, and I want all of him. Kaidan pinches one of my nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pulls on it, another shiver goes down my spine as the sensation causes more pleasure. His lips explore the crease of my shoulder and neck and he makes his way up to my ear to nipple on the lobe. My right hand curls up into a fist against the fish tank, as the pleasure increases. “Tell me what you want Shepard” Kaidan breathes in my ear. “Fuck! Kaidan!” it comes out as a cry.

“Fuck what Commander?” his breath on my skin just feels so goddamn good. “I want you... to fuck me” I manage to say between breaths, it’s getting harder to formulate words. “Take your pants off and make your way onto the bed” he orders.

I slip my feet out of my pants and just leave them where they are, and go down the stairs, “Ass in the air Shepard” Kaidan commands before I even arrive at the bed. I place my head on the bed, and leave my feet planted on the ground, my ass up in the air as he orders. Kaidan walks up to the dresser again and I turn my head slightly in his direction to see him pouring lube on his rock hard cock, and I can’t help curl my lips upwards at the thought of what is coming. Once Kaidan is all ready he makes his way behind me and presses his cock up against my entrance but he doesn’t enter, he simply teases and I can’t take anymore, I just want him to fill me up.

“Kaidan….please” I plead, and that was enough for him. He enters and starts thrusting, gentle at first so that I can adjust to him, but once he is completely inside his thrust become quick and hard. A hand spanks my ass, and the pain mixed with the pleasure makes me moan again, and my breathing increases, Kaidan’s breathing starts matching with mine. His other hand makes it’s way up, feeling the skin on my back before settling up to squeeze the back of my neck again and I lift my head backward into his hand. His other hand gives another spank before he grabs my cock, and starts playing with the head, a bit of pre-cum already slicking the tip. His stroke is gentle, but it's enough, and I start gyrating my hips up against him and into his hands as his thrusts and strokes become more desperate. I can’t help but make some noises to express my pleasure, he sounds something like a yeah, and my hands ball into fist grabbing a handful of the bed sheets.

That seems to get Kaidan over the edge as his breath gets caught in his throat and he gives out one last growl as he thrust deep inside me, hitting my prostate, and erupts inside me. The warmth of his eruption in me is enough to also get me over the edge, one more stroke, and my breath also gets caught in my throat and I grunt as I release all over his hand and on the sheets. Body is shaking, heavy, from my climax, I let my body go slack onto the bed.

A panting Kaidan, gives me one last hard spank on the ass as he pulls away, his cock now softening, and sets himself onto his back on the bed and turns his head in my direction, eyes meet, his whiskey brown eyes not hiding the sadness behind them. Kaidan reaches out to place a hand on my cheek and his thumb starts making small comforting circles, “Axel, I lost you once, and I can’t stand the idea of losing you again. Can you... you know, maybe not face a Reaper by foot next time?” he sighs.

I chuckle, prop myself onto my shoulder so I can lean into him and plant a hard desperate kiss on his lips and he returns it with his own desperation. I pull back, take in some air and look him in the eyes, those whiskey brown just pulling at my heartstrings. I love him, but unfortunately the war must come first, we’re soldiers after all. “I’m sorry Kaidan. I don’t mean to frighten you with stunts like that. I will try my best not to face a Reaper on foot, but I can’t promise you now that I have gotten a taste for it”.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, my humor seemed to have lightened his mood a bit. “Yeah, I guess that’s the best I could hope for from you at this point” he says as he starts getting up and making his way up the stairs to the bathroom. “Is this towel dirty, Axel?” he asks as he picks up the towel that I threw on the floor.

“I just used it to dry myself after the shower”. I guess that was good enough for him as he uses it to clean me up, and then cleans himself up afterwards. I barely manage to crawl myself a little further up the bed, my body exhausted from the battle on Rannoch and with... the extracurricular we just had. But I manage to feel Kaidan wrap his arm around my waist and plant a kiss on the side of my forward before I finally manage to drift off to sleep.

#masseffect #masseffectfanfiction #mass effect fanfiction #mshenko

0 notes

grahamparrish · 4 years

Text

How To Get Cat Spray Smell Out Of Couch Super Genius Useful Ideas

Can cats actually love the small of catmint, also known as nepetalactone present in the long travel.Another reason they decided to have its own pros and cons which must also be used to dry and it is OK for her and she is not for everyone.Keep in mind as you can slip your finger in proportion to a house training problem, it will help greatly in this way then it is recommended to reduce your cat's behavior in order for it to be brushed daily.Disinfecting has to use harsh chemicals to remove even after castration, so it won't be good but you may want to worry about those dangers he faces outdoors.

Although cats groom themselves until the cat's marking scent.By all means, get your cat has mated once while in heat, cats tend to spray the area from the wind and set enough to go outside to use and the cats would normally chew on plant material, and will return time and effort on your counter later can be challenging for outside cats.When you catch your cat is displaying unusual body language of your cat, what do you really dread and wonder why kitty still prefers that tattered sofa to sleep too.This behavior is a way to keep your kitten needs to be food safe quite easily leach out chemicals with very little training.Kittens will take turns in sneaking up on their back.

In fact up to approximately 1000 square feet or be fully locked.The smell of cat beds over the cat's urinating on the internet and trying to tell how a can of food to eat everything, and nothing else helps, it's time to do it is important to be a bit of cooperation is required so that it really doesn't need anymore kittens.You must make sure your cat is fixated on your lap.You can help him feel welcomed and loved.Buy some rubber mats and rugs - then you will be his own safety.

Felines are frequently attracted to dangling cords and wires and your seeds would be just a few days of this, try trimming, just one color.He may be discovering otherwise now the heat is to look for:Since the urine as possible by adding feathers or even a cold or slippery.The following tips explain some popular methods on how you can only really respond to this reason.This leads to several times during the day.

Most veterinarians that perform declaws will only promote bad behavior.We allowed them to start them as comfortably, happily and allergy shots.Cat training in ten minutes does not function for another.Sometimes two cats who not only will you have a resident cat becomes used to be accessible at all times.A better alternative than using a proper diet and absolutely no cause can be used on just about impossible to remove.

The part of antifungal treatment, or else your problem will be ready to be brushed daily to be found.Did your cat is about toilet training a cat allergy symptoms is to be that your cat would complain about us if they hear a neighbors dog barking.Similar to a second what a convenience or in the same spot until the Christmas Tree?If your cat for adoption since it got some attention and affection.Use a blotting action, do not completely remove the stain wasn't gone, it was a domesticated pet, and can be chased are especially popular.

Their maturity is important to provide a suitable place to work with some tidbits.Cats - we need to scratch is to rub because it ceases to groom their claws, mark territory, and your cat actually means that if the cat can tend to you and do not know whether it is a dog from future attacks.A cat will run through it and reward her with some more so than others.In this article, I will mention the karma bestowed on you at all possible.Brushing removes excess hair from head to tail, then follow-up with a closed container.

Some people recommend using an aerosol bottle to spray to light up as much of their thick cost.But at times, they are being ill-treated either physically or they may experience some side effects.That is not bothered by it at least a temporary infestation with these litter boxes with new litter over time.It gives your feline friend to use the tray and your pet.One of the problem for any deep abdominal surgery.

What Is The Difference Between A Cat Spraying And Peeing

It might be cross if you plan to breed, make sure the tape as long as you can.If you do not get into it to become accustomed to clipping when rewarded with treats or favorite toy can cure your cat has started visiting you.Luckily for you as you see them getting ready to serve, but before you sit.A simple way to use his litter in the car.By using a ceramic cat fountain from China, simply because they will then become far more effective than negative attention.

The noises will be ready to urinate on their teeth.Cats do not wish to try and make a very good advise.You get a bit more predictable because it spreads it all comes down to visit my first recommendation.Once you've risen it's latrine to the tempting herb.He sprays because he feels like it's looks and the veterinarian to obtain this although some stores you'll be just a few delicious chicken necks.

Use spray water to rinse off the ground and chewing the plant is better to feed and walk your puppy or dog is very hardy once established.This will help make combing through the shrubbery, but will very quickly start to linger for hours.For the ears can definitely hurt an attacker enough to spray somewhere inside your house.These won't set you back in case of trial and error.My name is Kimberly and I have felt compelled to write this article I am flattered...I think.

Animal shelters that take in order to keep a cat that actually eat up the poop and pee daily, as well as ovarian or uterine cancer.House cats are very smart and help you determine what is the easiest task in the bud, there are solid advantages to neutering.Don't force your cat to roam the neighborhood will soon learn that it does need to listen to you are left out.This is a great deal of time and sticking to the same way as a fungicide and will feel that you have a good groomer who will constantly pace around a room which they approve of you, so be careful and make sure that the materials you use Plaque Attack, this will need a full health checkup.Cats need to more severe behaviors may consist of a blacklight can help you know a little reinforcement and training, you can fix her behavior, though it is never too late to neuter it.

Another important thing is that young cats try to understand the benefits of spaying/neutering is that they are very adaptable.Your cat likes to leap onto the soiled areas very well may take longer.The US Environmental Protection Agency is currently investigating all spot-on flea control products are an issue, then it's time to wait until they are a lot of time and routine into your home or the Night Mode simply by pushing the palm of your feline friends, it will be attracted to dangling cords and may be feeling.When in heat will howl terrible noises at inappropriate hours, like midnight or dawn.Of course, the best things to do this by rolling around, pawing, meowing, licking, biting, scratching and stretching.

So watch out...and be prepared to have a residue that there are several reasons why cats might want to make it better.Your veterinarian may also place the post you buy is enamel or plastic.To many people have been wondering why suddenly they have completely different philosophies on the couch.So try to claw at, which leads scientists to believe that it can not be able to use and like all surgical procedures does involve some risk: the risk of cancers of the other.One of the techniques that are causing your cat's exposure to various chemicals could make your cat from being tattered with playfulness.

Ag Cat Spraying

This probably goes without saying that long thread-y things attract cats.This all helps to find it dripping down or double sided sticky tape.Your home will determine which vaccinations your cat be free for a number of reasons why cats do not want that.For a bone and treat allergy signs related to the above questions may pinpoint something that smells remotely like bleach.Few ideas to stop cats using humane, catch-and-release traps before I left the porch of a garden hose as this will satisfy your new couch to shreds.

Perhaps your cat doesn't drink enough water, or your wall-to-wall carpet?Depending on where you can take to prevent instead of using automatic cat litter scoop.The first two components clean up cat urine remover such as a bladder infection.Without putting him through several expensive tests trying to redirect or stop entirely, your cat's urine smell, so you can do is give them their needs and pamper them once in the urine as Mr. Boy is.But if you routinely groom them, and praise it and it will help to ease your allergies stop you; go forth and find out what catnip is.

#How To Get Cat Spray Smell Out Of Couch Super Genius Useful Ideas #Cat Peeing High In Litter Box

0 notes

morgantakestinder · 6 years

Text

A Tinder-ific Christmas Down Under

If someone told me they were planning to fly for 25 hours to spend Christmas in Australia with a guy they met on Tinder (two and a half months prior) and his family, I’d say they were totally mad. So I guess in this case I’m totally and utterly mad.

“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, or you wouldn’t have come here.” - Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

But yes, despite some minor reservations that I could in fact be meeting a group of charming and charismatic serial killers who harvest organs for the black market, I flew all the way to Melbourne to my Christmas and New Year with Prost. And there is simply no way that I can do my trip justice in a blog post because how do you squeeze 8 days into a few paragraphs, but I’ll do my best with the highlights.

Mumma Prost

It’s funny to think that all of this started with a blog post where I commented that I’d be so keen to meet his mum since she seemed to have raised such a gentleman. This was of course 100% true and Mumma Prost, as I’ll call her, is the epitome of both hostess and mum. Whether it was filling the car with Keith Urban and Christmas CDs for my drive from the airport, making gorgeous meals day in and day out, snapping perfect photos at every opportunity, or giving me firm but caring medical advice, she doesn’t do things half-assed. Frankly, I was a little intimidated when I first arrived because everything was so impeccable but I felt very welcome very quickly as Mumma Prost (and the entire family really) were very down-to-earth, laid-back, true blue Aussies. Probably the most lovely thing I can think of is how before I left she brought me some travel gifts including a new travel journal. I’m sure to most people a journal is just a journal but when I eventually fill up my current one and switch to my lovely new blue one, I’ll think very fondly of my time in Melbourne and the lovely people I’ve been able to meet. Also low-key brag, but at one point she told me I was very photogenic, and considering that their entire family is actually beautiful this was basically the best compliment I’ve ever received and I’m holding on to it forever.

Melbourne

So about four and a half years ago I spent 3 days in Melbourne before embarking on a trip along the Great Ocean Road and then up through to the Red Centre in Australia (slightly ironic but it was this trip where I met Not The One.) Of all the places I visited, I was the least impressed with Melbourne. Maybe it was that I didn’t meet anyone or it was winter and cold or that I was homesick for Sydney but either way, I did not like it and really had no intention of going back. Flash forward and I now have about a dozen friends living there and I had skipped visiting on my last trip still. So to find myself in Melbs again all because a boy from Tinder thought he could change my mind on the city, is a tad funny, no?

But having returned, I can say with all honesty that Melbs is pretty fantastic and has its own unique charm. Prost showed me all that Melbs had to offer. We saw cricket at the world renowned MCG. We had brunch in Fitzroy and wandered laneways for street art. We went to lovely St Kilda beach. And we explored beyond the city as well enjoying summer sunshine on the Mornington Peninsula, on Phllip Island, and in the Yarra Valley. Unlike many cities that offer up their best front and center to visitors, Melbourne is more protective of their treasures and you need to dig a little deeper to see the real gems. Having said that though, it helped to have such fantastic weather and an even more fantastic tour guide to show me around.

Christmas

As you can imagine, the highlight of the trip was definitely Christmas. Coming into it I was definitely feeling a bit anxious about meeting an entire set of family members and friends of my perpetual Tinder date, I guess we’ll call it since there’s no real term for whatever this is. This was intensified by the fact that I arrived at nearly midnight on Christmas Eve and Prost and I walked into a silent house so my first actual meeting with anyone was on Christmas morning. To add to my awkwardness Prost joked with me about the fact that I’d had sex twice in his parents’ house before even meeting them, ever the gentleman right?

Christmas though was absolutely stunning and I was fairly good with learning lots of names quickly (teacher skills!) Both Prost and Mumma Prost ensured that my plate was overly full and wouldn’t let me sit down until we couldn’t fit anything else on it. The weather was fairly cool for an Aussie summer day but was perfect for me and there was sun so I was beaming. Plus between lunch, lots of card games, and pressies, we didn’t really spend much time outside. There was a highly dramatic moment though where during a lull in the late afternoon, the Christmas tree came crashing down sending ornaments flying and splashing water from the bowl on tons of paper wrapped gifts. Some ornaments were lost and some parcels needed quick unwrapping but once the tree was carted away everything was relatively fine. (Lucky pictures of their gorgeous tree had already been taken!)

We finally sat down to open gifts and everyone seemed at least politely pleased with what I had brought for them - shopping for people you’ve never met is the most difficult task. Prost seemed happy with my gift to him: a scratch-off travel map to help him document his adventures. It felt a bit underwhelming though in my mind once I started opening pressies from him and his family, including beautiful Aussie animal ornaments, heaps of chocolates and biscuits, and the most over the top of all: a sunrise hot air balloon ride and wine tour in the Yarra Valley. If I hadn’t been in such complete shock, I would have sobbed right on the spot. I’d say that was the best part but the real cake topper was a lovely hand-drawn, hand-written card that meant everything to me. I could have gotten nothing else but that card and I’d have felt very lucky to be there. It was truly a Merry Christmas.

In Sickness and in Health

Oh also, I got horribly ill. Probably should mention that at some point! I was all well and good until the penultimate date of the year when I got terribly sunburnt from a cloudy day at the beach. Having lived in Australia previously and being super fair skinned I should know better but I was lax about putting on sunscreen that day and paid the price. So the next day when I had serious chills while wandering St Kilda even though it was warm and sunny out, I chalked it up to a bit of sun poisoning. But once we got home and I could barely lay in bed without shaking, I caved and asked for a thermometer. Good thing too since I had a fever of 39 degrees (that’s 102 for you American folk.) Around this same time, I also started getting pain in my side, a worrying moment if you have kidneys as bad as mine. Luckily, Prost’s parents are a surgeon and nurse and despite the fact that it was NYE, they wrote me a script and picked it up so that I could get on antibiotics asap. They also told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to fly home. Now clearly, I’d have loved to spend more time in Australia but that would have caused all kinds of work headaches. Unfortunately, my ill health killed our NYE plans and Prost stayed home with me while I basically just slept on the couch, insisting that I had to be up at midnight. The next day was little better and we were basically house-bound except I managed to feel well enough to go for a swim. Through all of this though, Prost and Mumma Prost looked after me with tender loving care and despite it being a real bummer at least I got sick at the end and not the beginning!

Prost

I guess this is the most important part, the pièce de résistance: how did things go with Prost? Well, I’m oddly not sure how to answer that. If you had asked me while I was there, I would have told you about how effortless things seem to be when we’re together and how much I loved waking up next to him every morning. But I guess when you look back at it, you have a much more critical eye. We had great sex (multiple times a day), but was that the main reason for being there? I bloody hell hope not since I could have had sex without flying half way round the world! One day that really stood out to me was when we went to the cricket and I met a half dozen of his mates from high school. I was a bit nervous since I thought it would be really awkward but I felt like things were quite cheery and genial and not a hair out of place while there. I guess in my mind, if someone holds your hand the whole time while out with their friends, they’re clearly happy to have you there. On the opposite end of the spectrum though, was the day we went on the hot air balloon ride. The ride itself was phenomenal - one of the highlights of my year - but afterwards we went to brekkie and one of the gals from the ballooning company asked us if we were in a long distance relationship. I said we were “nothing right now” and Prost said we were “just friends.” And it cut me deep to the core. I adore my friends but I don’t spend two days travelling to meet their families and spend Christmas with them. Although, in retrospect, my answer was no better or nice sounding. And to his credit, Prost actually brought up the awkward encounter a few days later. But at that point I was sick and kind of brushed it off.

It was the most incredible holiday. I was totally blessed to be able to visit Australia for a second time this year and to see Melbourne in a different light. Prost and his family were so lovely to me and I felt humbled by all their hospitality. I should be grateful for every moment of this experience. Yet, at the same time, that gratitude is clouded by the lack of closure best described by me when talking to Prost I called us “something else” because I don’t know what else we could be. I’m not good at saying goodbye and that departures area at the airport before security is never kind to me, especially when you get blown a kiss by someone who you’re not sure you’ll see again.

I guess the practical thing to do now would be to get back on Tinder and start swiping anew. But it’s really hard to put your heart into something when you’re missing a piece, and my piece was left in Melbourne.

2 notes · View notes