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Wig Shop Near Me: Hair Care Centre — Your Trusted Source for Quality Wigs
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Get Affordable and Non Surgical Hair Patching and Hair Extension In Kolkata
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Hair extension in Bhubaneswar
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Best Hair Treatment in Bhubaneswar
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.⋆。A Big Night In。⋆.
Dick Grayson x plus size reader
The one where Dickie and Dove finally have a night to themselves
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fluff, mom!reader, embarrassment, sort of breeding kink?
WC: 1.8k
Minors DNI
The Graysons
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
“Now, if she gets fussy, she really likes the koala with the missing ear. She literally can’t sleep without it.” Dick was panicking, that much was plain to see and Bruce couldn't help but smile. It was moments like this, where his boy was filled with anxiety about something so normal as leaving his 6 month old baby with her grandparents overnight, that made his heart ache in the best way.
“Chum, I know how to take care of Alice, I think the 20 page binder you gave each of us on her needs helps.” He glared at his father, arms tightening around his baby as she sat on his narrow hips, happily playing with the buttons on his shirt.
“Oh leave him alone.” His mother scolded, giving her husband a light slap on his arm. “Don't pretend you weren't even more upset when you had to leave Dick alone for the first time. I seem to remember you calling me every ten minutes to get updates on how he was doing.” A light pink flush spread across Bruce's cheeks at the memory.
Grumbling, his eyes dropped to the floor like a petulant child. “It wasn't every ten minutes.” Dick shot his mother a grateful smile before turning his attention to Alice who didn't seem to share her father's level of anxiety.
It was a big day, her first sleepover without her parents. It would have happened sooner, in fact the first attempt had been when she was three months old. You and Dick needed some 'alone time' and your in-laws had been more than happy to extend their babysitting services. But an hour before they would come to pick her up, you and Dick had a breakdown and cancelled, instead spending the night curled up together in bed, Alice between you.
But, you couldn't put it off any longer. Alice needed to be socialised with other people and you needed to get laid.
So after a tearful goodbye, Dick drove her to Gotham, insisting on a little daddy-daughter bonding time before she was handed over to her grandparents.
“She likes thunderstorm sounds when she goes to sleep. And if she's still fussy, there's some frozen milk in the cooler bag.” Said bag was handed over to the awaiting hands of her grandfather, along with a Wonder Woman themed duffle-bag that held everything else she could possibly need.
“Ba.” Alice spat out, chubby arm pointing to her grandmother. Dick knew he had to get this over with, like pulling off a bandaid.
He pressed a long kiss to the patch of dark hair on the top of her head, inhaling that baby smell she hadn't yet grown out of. “You’ll be good for nana and pops won't you?” She cooed, eyes still locked on the older woman. He sighed, pecking her soft skin a couple more times before she slipped from his arms and placed safely in his mother's.
“Everything will be fine, I promise baby bird. You two have fun tonight.” Dick was quickly shooed out of the manor but not without a vague threat to Bruce to keep her safe, which he brushed off with his usual nonchalance.
By the time he had returned to his apartment in Blüdhaven, his mood had improved, especially with the text he received from you telling him to come straight to the bedroom when he got home.
“Dove?” He called into the darkened apartment, slipping off his shoes as he stumbled forward. A trail of clothes, haphazardly thrown on the hardwood guided him forward. There was a dim glow coming from the room just off of the kitchen, the smell of vanilla like a siren's call.
“Come on Dickie, we have a lot to make up for and not a lot of time to do it.” Your voice called out to him.
Dick groaned and palmed his already throbbing cock- it had been a long time, too long. “You're playing a dangerous game, Dove.” His voice thick with arousal as he called back to you.
His own clothes quickly joined yours, leaving him in just his boxers as he stepped into the bedroom where all the air was knocked from his lungs.
Your perfect, soft, naked body was completely on display for him as you lounged on the bed.
Your skin glowed in the soft orange light of the room and for a moment, Dick thought that there was no way you were real and that you were his.
“Holy fuck.” He watched with wide eyes as your legs fell open, revealing paradise to him, your fingers already tracing over your clit. “Leave it!” He suddenly shouted, now furiously tugging at his boxers. “That's all mine baby!”
Your giggles quickly turned into moans as your husband's strong body forced you further into the mattress and his lips met yours in a truly desperate kiss. Your nails dug into his muscular back making his hips buck into yours.
“Well, what are you gonna do about it daddy?” You cooed into his mouth, your left hand travelling down his front deliberately slow.
He caught your hand before you could reach his cock and with a dangerous gleam in his eye, he responded. “How about baby number 2?”
The cold metal of his wedding ring against your heated thigh sent a shiver up your spine, making his smirk grow as your nipples pebbled beneath his gaze. His fingers inched towards your centre, quickly gathering the arousal that had smeared onto your skin.
“God, you get even sexier by the day.” You gasped as he finally touched where you needed him the most, both easing and adding more fuel to your lust. His own patience was quickly wearing thin so your husband wasted no time in sliding two thick fingers inside you.
“Dick!” You threw your head back with a moan of his name.
“That's it, that's my pretty dove.” With his other hand planted by your head, Dick watched his fingers pump in and out of you, his skin now shinny with your wetness. “You're so fucking wet dove, must be aching for me.”
Your only response was to tighten around his fingers, your orgasm dangerously close. “Please please.” You begged.
“Do you want to cum on my fingers or my cock?” Dick breathed into your ear but the way that he was pressed so tightly against you, you could feel his thick cock throbbing against your thigh, the decision was already made for you.
“Want you inside, wanna feel your cock again.” His body sagged against you as he groaned from deep in his chest.
“Fuck, you can't say stuff like that- gonna make me cum before we even get to the good part.”
“Then you better fuck me already Grayson.” But the bite of your words was softened by the moan he forced from you as he ripped his fingers from your aching cunt and replaced them with the fat head of his cock.
“If you insist.” The first thrust was always deliciously painful as he stretched you out, making you feel every inch of his perfect length until he was nestled against your cervix and his balls pressed tightly to your ass.
Your groans mingled together in a beautiful lewd symphony, filling the bedroom like music. “So fucking tight.” Dick moaned through clenched teeth. “Need to fuck you more.”
“Yes.” You hissed both in response to your husband and because at that moment, his hips twitched causing his cock to brush against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you.
“My poor girl, been neglecting my perfect wife. Gonna make it up to you, make you sit on my face till you beg me to stop.” His first thrusts were tentative, almost shy just like the first time you fell into bed with him but as you began to relax beneath him, he switched it up.
He knocked the moans from your lungs as he jackhammered into you, his own desperate need for release blinding him to everything else. “Never gonna let you feel empty again, I'll make sure you're always full of me one way or another.”
You sobbed with a particularly brutal thrust to your cervix and you dragged your nails down his back, leaving bright red marks. “Yes!” You cried.
“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking warm and tight, need to cum.”
“Inside, need it inside.” Your ankles locked around his hips. Your stomach began to pull tight just as Dick's thrusts began to waver.
“C'mon dove, cum for me- please.” And you shattered below him, melting into a puddle of ecstasy as your husband filled you with his cum, prolonging your orgasm.
Your left hand tangled in his dark hair and tugged his lips into yours. Your breath mingled as you both came down from your highs but Dick remained inside you, neither of you keen on having this end just yet.
“I love you.” You whispered to him and your husband smiled against your lips.
“I love you.” He replied with a gentle peck. “Soooooo, round 2?”
——————
“Dick's late.” Bruce's eyes once again flicked to the grandfather clock in the corner of the living room and then to the entryway but once again, there was no indication that his son had arrived.
Looking up from the floor where she had been playing with their granddaughter, his wife rolled her eyes. “Bruce, we've just given them their first uninterrupted date night in months, of course they're gonna be late. And hopefully they spent the night productively.” She said this last part almost to herself as she turned back to Alice who suddenly believed her right foot to be the most delicious thing ever.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at his wife. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing!” She sing-songed. “Oh look! They're here!”
And sure enough, Dick and a limping you walked through the door, not looking as well-rested as Bruce assumed you would be but both of you had big smiles on your faces.
“My girl!” Of course Dick immediately dove for his daughter, sending her into peels of laughter at seeing her father trip over his own feet in his hurry to get to her. You instead approached your father-in-law, greeting him with a warm hug and kiss to the cheek.
“Thank you for watching her, I hope she didn't give you too much trouble.” Bruce waved you off.
“She was an angel, like always. I thought you and Dick were going to get some rest, you look like you haven't slept a wink.” Dick snorted but immediately stopped when both you and his mother shot him a look.
You cleared your throat and with a look of embarrassment, you avoided Bruce's eyes. “We lost track of time and didn't get to bed until late.” You were content to leave it there but apparently, your husband had other ideas.
“Alice, what do you think about having a baby brother?” You and your mother-in-law sighed heavily as Bruce went pale, the realisation finally dawning on him.
“Oh-oh god. I think I need a drink.”
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v. garza - last one open
warnings: angst: hurt/no comfort, mentions of alcohol, being drunk, predatory behaviors while drunk (nothing graphic or explicit), hidden relationships, vague allusions to past sex (never gets into it), assumed death of a loved one, fem reader (no use of y/n) summary: former especiales!r opens a food stall, the only one left with business hours into the early morning. a group of drunk men stumble in one night, and an unlikely woman with them.
word count: 1.4k
taglist: @lesvii
a/n: oh no my finger slipped and i wrote another angst piece, whatever shall i do? i wrote this instead of my overdue english essay
men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16- / 21+ dni
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
It was a long night, especially being the last food stall open this early in the morning. Even the military couldn’t prepare you for the absolute mental and physical drain of owning and working your own food stall, since everything was already prepped and provided for you. There was no need for pitched-up, bubbly “customer service” voices that exhausted you beyond belief to keep up. No need to plaster a smile onto your face as inebriated men all tried (and failed) to shoot their shot with you, their words slurring together and eyes crossing. You almost missed the routine and the rigid structure of it all.
Almost.
There was one big factor that was the main driving force in why you had left the armed forces.
Valeria.
You two held a bond that was certainly more than friends, but never had the time to define it. Stolen kisses behind closed doors, nights spent sneaking into each others’ rooms in the barracks, always having your and her uniform patches swapped, always finishing training first before everyone and heading to the showers together, only for you to emerge flushing redder than the arroz rojo served in the mess hall.
You swore up and down to your bunkmates that you showered only in cold water, mumbling some excuse about it being better for your skin and scalp. But you never offered up any explanation as to why you didn’t smell like body wash or shampoo, and instead of a very distinct cologne.
On the outside, you and Valeria seemed like the closest of friends. It was only natural, especially being the only two women in the Especiales, that you would become fast friends. That was all that anyone ever saw. Two women, in the prime of their lives, forming an inseparable bond reinforced by the camaraderie and patriotism of being part of Mexico’s most elite fighting force.
But it all came to a grinding halt one fateful day. She had been called out as a member of the RED Team for a mission. She never disclosed where, when, or why she was leaving, only that it would be soon, and quickly changed the subject with a chaste forehead kiss.
One morning, you had woken up to an empty bed. Her things were all as she had left them the night before, scattered around the floor, seemingly as if she had never left. Her uniform was still on the floor in a crumpled heap, her boots unlaced, and her stack of hair ties still looped around one end of the metal bedpost. The unopened bottle of her cologne was still in your bag, having been placed there the night before. But she was missing, nowhere to be found.
Later that week, after being denied time and time again by your superiors in your near-frantic requests to communicate with her via the radio you knew never left her belt, there was a small, white envelope pushed under your door with your name on the outside of it, written in her signature scratchy handwriting. That, alone, was enough to send you into a fit of tears and uncontrollable sobs as you just stared at the envelope in your trembling hand. You knew letters like this were only ever given to soldiers who had just lost a loved one, whether they were on or off-duty.
The sound of the bell attached to the shop’s door jingled, snapping you out of the melancholic haze of memories that you had nearly lost yourself in moments earlier. Your head snapped up and at attention, watching with keen eyes as a group of very intoxicated men stumbled in and seated themselves at the high stool seats at the counter.
Even as they were presumably parts of the same group, there was one thing that stood out about all of them: they all were armed to the teeth, even donning bulletproof vests with rounds of bullets clinking together in a compartment on their utility belts. The sounds of loud, raucous laughter floated through the small area, mixing with slurred words and vague gestures from the men.
You stood there, behind the counter with your hands firmly in your pockets as you surveyed them all carefully, analyzing their mannerisms and how they seemed to be just a tad too confident at this time of night, drunkenly traipsing around. Plastering your signature customer service smile on your face before approaching the men with a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other, twirled around between your fingers in an intricate pattern. That pattern had been taught to you by Valeria while the two of you were still in boot camp and bored during the class lectures, but the habit stuck. “Are you gentlemen ready to order, or do you need more time?” you question, all of their heads turning to look at you with gazes that weren’t unfamiliar. These same gazes you had endured for years, all too aware of the way their eyes raked up and down your body in the shirt and sweatpants you had decided to wear.
What they failed to see, in their collective drunken stupor, was the strength of a fine-tuned human weapon underneath the facade of a smiling woman. It might have been years since you had left the military, but your skills were just as sharp as ever. You might have had a bit more muscle definition in the past, but the quiet strength was still there, lurking just under the surface.
Suddenly, another jingle from the door catches your attention as a head of familiar black hair and a husky laugh you had sworn you wouldn’t ever hear again, rang out. “Boys, mamí’s here!”
In an instant, your hand stills, the pen that was spinning atop it falling to the tiled floor with a sharp clatter. Thoughts raced through your mind at the all-too-familiar sound of the woman’s laugh, rich, full, and husky in all the right ways. The laugh you hadn’t heard in years. The laugh that both haunted and soothed your dreams.
It was her. Valeria Garza. The woman you had assumed to be dead for the past six years, alive, well, and seemingly happy, stood behind you. She was oblivious to your identity, only registering a vague familiarity upon seeing your back and hair. You didn’t even have to turn around to know it was her.
There’s a soft grunt from behind you as she squats down to pick up the pen that you had dropped onto the floor, and a tap on your back accompanied by a soft request. “Ma’am? I think you dropped this pen-” she begins, but she’s quickly shut up as you turn around to face her.
Her face, etched into your memory, was just the same as you remembered, but now with a few new smile lines around her eyes and some eye bags underneath those midnight eyes of hers. Eyes that you had gotten lost in, once upon a time, now stared back at you in silent shock.
“Val-?” you all but choke out, incredulously. She greets your own shock with a similar expression of your own, every last bit of her previously confident and jovial manner gone within an instant. “Gatita-?” she questions, the old nickname that she used to call you slipping out just as easily as it had in the past.
Any and all resolve in your body crumbles, and you take the pen from her hand, blinking back tears. Tears of unresolved grief, anger, joy, and betrayal. They threaten to spill, but you clear your throat and turn your attention back to the notepad in your hand, watching as she sits herself down on one of the stools alongside who you can only assume are her friends or colleagues. The cold military disposition takes over, thinly veiled by a mask of polite professionalism, the smile on your face wavering slightly.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m suddenly feeling unwell. I’ll have another server out here to help you in just a moment,” you mumble, rushed and apologetic, but not quite knowing who you were apologizing to before setting the pen and notepad down on the counter and sprinting to the back door of the establishment, all but slamming it open. You didn’t dare look back, knowing full well that Valeria would be staring at you, surprise and guilt etched into her features.
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⛧°。 ⋆༺GAKU HEADCANONS༻⋆。 °⛧
*** with an assassin!S/O as per request!***
☆ He would only date someone who is also an assassin, the thought of having to leave you behind or that you could be targeted without being able to protect yourself would turn him off extremely
☆ He would be cold and standoffish towards you at first, but once he sees your abilities he’d be more open to you and introduce himself properly
☆ He enjoys going on missions with you whenever possible. Your presence gives him more confidence and if he does get hurt, he’ll make you be his own little nurse and patch him up
☆ When he’s tagging along on one of your easier assignments he likes to just sit back and watch you work. The way you look when you’re taking out a target always turns him on
☆ He’s the type to wear jewelry that reminds him of you or bonds you two in some way. A match pair of earrings for you two or a bracelet with a “G” charm on it would be one of the first gifts he gave you in your relationship
☆ Not the jealous type but definitely demands your attention and affection (blame it on being an orphan) he seeks comfort from you all the time
☆ After his run in with Takamura he insists that you two train together and often, he doesn’t want you running into that monster without being able to at least survive
☆ He’s very accepting of the reality of your lifestyles, and is grateful for every second you two get together
☆ Likes laying in your lap while he plays games, will whine a bit if you stop playing with his hair too. He’ll eventually fall asleep on you too, he can’t help it
☆ Will drag you out to the store if a new game he’s wanted comes out, or will tack it on after a nice lunch date so you don’t feel like all the focus is on him
☆ If you’re not already on Slur’s team, he’ll convince you to join them or at least leave the JAA unless you’ve got the guts to be a spy
☆ He’ll put together your mission supplies and do the upkeep on your weapons if you’re upset with him as an act of service
#gaku Sakamoto days#sakamoto days#gaku#gaku x reader#gaku x you#fanfic#Sakamoto days fanfic#headcanons
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daisy chains
pairing: terzo/fem! reader | word count: 8.6k
summary: the story of how you and your childhood best friend, terzo, repaired a broken bond.
warnings: very very very vague and brief description of sex.
playlist if you're interested! message at the end as usual <3
𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘
╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗
Terzo Emeritus: Your best friend, first lover, and soon, worst enemy.
You and Terzo were both raised in the Clergy and as you frequently spent time together, you couldn’t help but be drawn to his personality. It was hard to ignore the goofy faces he’d flash at you during service, the outlandishly hilarious questions he had no hesitation to ask Papa Nihil no matter how many people were watching, the crumpled pieces of paper he’d toss at you with amateurish comments about the subject matter being preached at you, to which you’d add unflattering doodles of his father blabbering and toss it right back.
One day after mass, as you exited the large chamber, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Reacting to the sudden touch, you stopped in your tracks and turned around. There he stood, the funny boy who made your days a little more lively. He had messy jet-black hair, glowing olive skin, a cheeky smile, and most notably, a piercing left eye, its pitch-black center contrasting beautifully against his soft white pupils as well as his other green eye.
“I’m Terzo.” He greeted you, a thick Italian accent adorning his voice as he held out his hand.
“I like your name.” You replied.
“I like yours too! Eh, what is it?” He asked.
You giggled, shaking his hand. “Y/N.”
“Y/N! Bellisima!” He beamed, blowing a kiss into the air. “I like your drawings, Y/N.”
“Thanks. I like your eyes.” You replied.
“Grazie! Hey, Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“Can I show you something cool?” he asked, eagerly.
“Sure!” you chirped.
The boy bolted past the door and began sprinting down the hallway in the opposite direction of the crowd’s movement.
“Hey- wait for me!” You cried out, chasing after him, but struggling to keep up. As you ran further away from the clamor of the crowd, the sound of your rapid panting and footsteps echoed through the corridor. Finally reaching the end of the hallway, you continued following Terzo, who had just bolted out a pair of glass double doors.
“Terzo! Wait up-”
Woah.
You had never been out here before. It was breathtaking.
In front of you was a decadent garden. Rows of perfectly trimmed hedges and beautiful flowerbeds sprawled across the terrain, with ivy-covered arches overlooking them. The pathway carved into the ground was similar to that of an enchanted labyrinth, except exuding a sense of safety rather than fear. There was no getting lost in this garden, no matter how winding, the path always led you right back to where you started.
“This is Primo’s garden. Pretty, si?” flaunted Terzo. “Secondo says flowers are for girls. I don’t think that’s true.”
“I don’t think so either.” You agreed. “Who’s Secondo?”
“Mio fratello.”
“Your brother? Frowny-face?” You inquired, molding your facial expression into a bitter scowl.
“Ha! Si, Frowny-face.” He imitated your expression and then grinned. “Seguimi!” He gestured to you, waving his hand for you to follow him under the grand arch and into the garden.
“Your brother did all this?” You asked, astonished by the utopia in front of you.
“Si!”
“Oh, look at the roses!” you exclaimed, pointing at the bed of beautiful red flowers.
“Oh? You want?” He asked, stopping in his tracks and looking towards the roses.
“Is that allowed?” You cautioned.
“Eh, he doesn’t have to know…” He suggested impishly, tiptoeing towards the bed of roses.
Suddenly, like magic, the oldest Emeritus son appeared beside you.
“No no no no no no no, get out at once, mess with le margherite, not my fiore prezioso! Shoo!” he scolded, waving his hands so you would scatter.
You two dejectedly abided, following the perfectly paved path out of the garden. Pacing through the soft grass, you headed towards a patch of grass with an assemblage of daisies sprouting from it.
Primo was always complaining about those things; the daisies that never seemed to go away. He didn’t plant them there, they just appeared seemingly out of the blue. If he cut them down, they grew once more, with ten times the amount. They would never die.
Terzo let out a “huff” as he plopped himself on the ground beside the flowers, muttering to himself what you presumed to be violent threats in Italian.
With care, you plucked one of the many flowers off the ground , holding it up and examining it closely. It was beautiful, the vibrant yellow center contrasting beautifully against the soft white petals as well as the soft green of the grass. You began collecting more from the ground, threading the stems together, to create a daisy chain. Some of the daisies were a little withered, missing a few petals. But you didn’t mind. It was a daisy chain, nonetheless.
Your daisy chain had soon become a daisy crown, as you pieced your first and last flower together.
“Pretty!” you announced, placing the crown atop his raven hair.
“Me?” He asked.
“Yeah! Boys can like flowers and be pretty.”
“I guess that’s true.” He reckoned. “Can you teach me?”
“Yeah!” You both sat in the grass, chatting and making daisy chains for what felt like hours until the sky turned a hazy orange and you were being called back inside by Primo.
“Terzo! Margherita! Cosa fai? È tardi! Come inside, I make brasato al barolo.” His voice bellowed through the air.
“Brasato al barolo?! Arrivo, Primo!” Terzo shouted in response.
“Bruhza- brasato?” You awkwardly pronounced.
“You’ve never had Brasato al Barolo?!” He gasped, mouth agape as if you had just revealed the world’s most profound secret.
“No.” You confessed.
“You’re eating with us tonight, Margherita!” Terzo declared, grabbing you by the hand and taking off towards the building.
Soon enough, you two had a tradition: sneaking off to make daisy chains in the outskirts of the garden. Those were simpler times you would soon yearn for. You two grew up with the daisies, sharing secrets, laughter, and precious memories, including your first kiss.
One day, you sat by the daisy patch, waiting for Terzo’s arrival. You sat in solitude, twirling the strands of grass in your fingers, wondering what was taking him so long. Your contemplation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of screaming and quick footsteps growing closer and closer. Terzo was sprinting towards you at full speed, then collapsed into the grass, breathing heavily.
“Y/N!” He shouted, despite being right next to you,
“What happened?! Are you okay?” You fretted, crouching on the ground beside him.
“I saw something disgusting!” He said, sitting up and now facing you.
“What?!”
“I saw Secondo kissing a girl!” He said, pointing to his mouth and letting out an exaggerated vomiting noise. “Bleaugh!”
“Ewww!” You shuddered. “Gross!”
“Y/N.”
“Yeah?”
“I have an idea.” Terzo prompted, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“What is it?” You responded.
“Let’s try it,” he suggested, grinning wickedly.
“Kissing?”
“Yeah! We’re nine now! Basically grown-ups.” Terzo reasoned.
“I thought it was gross?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side.
“It’s gross because it’s Secondo. Wanna do it?”
“Sure.” you agreed.
“Ready?”
“Okay.” You agreed, squealing and shaking your hands to let all your nervous energy out.
“Three…” He started.
“Two…” You continued.
“One.” You chorused.
Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you two leaned in and pressed your lips together for about a millisecond.
Peck.
You two erupted into a storm of laughter, flailing about and rolling in the grass. “Ew!!! Ew!!! Ew!!! Ew!!!” The both of you shrieked repeatedly through exuberant giggles, tears rolling down your cheeks. Recovering from your fit of laughter, you two opened your eyes and were faced with none other than Terzo’s brother, Secondo, hovering above you, his scowl as frightening as ever. He loomed over you, carrying a sense of impending doom with him, akin to the Grim Reaper.
“Terzo. Partire.” he commanded his brother. Ah, Secondo. Bearer of bad news, as always.
“Why?” Terzo retaliated, propping himself up so he was now sitting up straight.
“Hai il cotillion.” Secondo replied.
“Non mi interessa.”
“Io dirò Papa.” He threatened.
Terzo threw himself back on the grass, shut his eyes, and let out a cartoonish snoring noise. You stifled a giggle.
“Io dirò Primo.”
Terzo sighed, reluctantly standing up from his spot on the grass as you also stood up beside him. Secondo’s gaze shifted from his brother to you, eyeing you for a moment before snickering.
“Ha. Looks like she’s taller than you now. Good luck getting a girlfriend, fratellino.” He snorted.
Really, Secondo? He had to say that in English?
“I am?” You asked, looking to your side and finding out you were indeed taller than your best friend, the top of his head barely under your eye level. You initially wanted to jump for joy, tease, “Take that, Terzo!” But seeing the hurt look on his face immediately eliminated that desire.
“Secondo, that’s mean.” You scolded him.
“The truth hurts.” He quipped, turning around and storming off back towards the church.
“It’s okay Terzo, girls just mature faster than guys. Soon you’ll be the tallest one in the whole Clergy.” You reassured him.
“Whatever… I have to go. See you, Margherita.” He waved, making a kissy face at you before letting out a hearty laugh.
You stuck your tongue out in return, then laughed as you waved goodbye to Terzo trampling through the grass, off to another boring cotillion lesson. The thought of someone as wild as Terzo participating in such formal activities humored you greatly. Doesn’t matter how old he got, he would never grow up.
°❀°
From then on out, the two of you spent your time with the daisies. You grew with them.
You got older and watched each other change as the years flew by. Terzo got taller. Maybe not as tall as he’d like to be, but still, taller. And very handsome. Everyone practically clawed at him, debilitatingly envious of the attention you received from him, although it was strictly platonic. One may think that all the mornings you were spotted leaving his room were due to some frisky activity the night before, but that was far from the truth. Unless frisky activity was watching horror movies, painting each other’s nails, and gossiping until you could hear the birds chirping, indicating it was probably time to go to bed.
The bond you two had was sacred. Your deepest darkest secrets were kept safe with each other, the things you wouldn’t dare to utter to anybody else. Together, you were wild and free, sneaking out into the latest hours of the night, coming back home drunken and dizzy, and soon having to hold each other’s hair back. You liked Terzo’s hair a little long, but you wouldn’t tell him that. You two fought each other’s battles, took each other’s stabs, cleaned each other’s wounds. You were a shoulder to cry on when Terzo displayed rare moments of vulnerability, and in return, he offered the same security to you, holding you while you cried over some stupid boy, or something much more serious. Nobody dared to mess with you, because that meant they were messing with Terzo. And that was a death wish.
You were best friends, and that’s all. From adolescence to adulthood.
The morning of your 18th birthday, you woke up to a firm knock on your door and a voice echoing through the hallway.
“Margherita!” You heard Terzo sing joyously.
“One- One second.” You grumbled, voice cracking as you awakened from your slumber. You groaned as you forced the soft duvet off your body, crawling out of the warm embrace of your bed. Not wanting Terzo to see you looking rusty, even though he had countless times before, you barely opened the door, peeking outside. He was already gone. What a weird boy. As you stepped aside, your foot brushed something on the floor. Looking down, you caught sight of a piece of paper that was slipped under your door, one that was haphazardly torn out of a journal probably supposed to be used for taking notes. You chuckled to yourself.
Forgive me, I have some duties to attend to today. I’ll be back here at 7:00 to come pick you up for your birthday celebration. See you soon, Margherita.
-Terzo
Birthday celebration? You smiled, pondering what he would do for you. Terzo was many things, but predictable was not one of them.
You decided to get a little dressed up. It was your special day, after all. Rummaging through your closet, you settled on a nice floral sundress with a lace trim, as well as your favorite pair of shoes, which happened to match quite nicely. You spruced up your hair, tying a bow in the back with a pastel ribbon you were lucky enough to have found sitting in your drawer.
The day was pleasant. Your friends and siblings of sin showered you with love and attention, some even presenting you with gifts that made your heart beam with graciousness.
Just before Terzo was scheduled to arrive, you touched yourself up a bit, fixing your makeup and hair. You gave yourself a final look in the mirror before hearing a knock on the door at promptly 7:00 p.m.
Terzo looked very handsome, you must say. His raven hair was slicked back, a few strands falling out in just the right places. He was wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, which were placed behind his back.
“Wow, bellisima!” He beamed, pulling out a red rose from behind his back.
“Aw, thanks, Terzo.” You smiled, taking the rose and holding it to your chest.
“My beautiful best friend all dolled up. Give me a twirl!” He exclaimed, taking you by the hand and spinning you around before you even had the chance to agree.
“Happy birthday, Y/N.” He said, just as he caught you at the end of your twirl.
“Thanks, Terzo.” You replied, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks. “You look nice too.”
“Grazie! Shall we go?” He asked, holding out his hand.
“Where?” You questioned while taking his hand in yours.
“You’ll find out!” announced Terzo, before taking off.
You two embarked on your typical route to your daisy bush. But after passing through the glass doors, to your surprise, he turned in the opposite direction of the daisies. He dragged you towards the garden you were still forbidden from entering after all these years, Primo still wary of his brother’s antics.
“Wait- are we allowed to be in here?” you asked. “Si. We aren’t kids anymore. I was granted permission. Look how mature I am now!”
“Sure.” You laughed.
It was just as beautiful as you remembered, maybe even more beautiful. Not quite as big, but that’s what happens when you grow up, you presumed.
He led you to an area beside a large oak tree, its leaves providing the perfect amount of shade. A large blanket was spread across the grass, and placed in the middle was a basket containing some desserts, drinks, and a few small gifts.
“Aw, Terzo, this is so sweet.” You expressed, placing a hand over your heart at his thoughtful gesture.
“It’s what you deserve.” He replied. “A beautiful setup for a beautiful girl, no?”
“Stop it.” You blushed.
You two took a seat on the quilt, taking a moment of silence to soak in the scenery.
“It’s so weird finally being back in here.” You said fondly. You know, I’m still a little bit upset Primo banned me from coming inside too. I didn’t even take anything!”
“Si, but Primo had a hunch.”
“Huh?”
“That wherever you go I would follow.”
“Did he really say that?”
“Si.” He nodded.
As the night grew darker, a soft breeze began to pick up, and goosebumps began to graze the surface of your skin.
Terzo noticed you tucking your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them to warm yourself up.
“Are you cold?” asked Terzo, a concerned tone in his voice.
“Kind of, but I’m fine.” You reassured him, although your body language screamed otherwise. In response, Terzo wrapped his arms around you as you rested your head against him, snuggling into his warmth. You loved this. You loved his scent, his touch, his presence; it kept you grounded, kept you human.
“Terzo?” You uttered, your head still leaning against him.
“Si?”
“You’re my favorite person in the world.”
“And you are mine.”
You don’t know how it happened. Terzo pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, something he had done before. Looking up from where you had nestled your head, you two met eyes, but it was different this time; your heartbeat came to a sudden halt. The twinkle in his white eye was brighter than it ever had been, and you longed to get closer to it. Closer to him. You were completely engulfed in your entrancement with your best friend. The spark in his eyes had become a newly born flame, and you felt your heart’s wings flutter like a moth fleeting towards light.
“Pretty.” he uttered, voice barely audible.
“Pretty?”
“You. You are pretty.” He reiterated, not breaking eye contact.
Nothing was to be heard except the soft hum of the cicadas and the stream rustling in the distance.
“I don’t know,” you responded, looking away shyly.
“I do.” He said, placing his hand on the side of your face, as he began grazing his thumb across your cheek.
His gaze moved from your eyes to your lips, and back up once again. The arm that was still wrapped around you was drawing you in closer, as an unspoken heat began to arise between the two of you.
Terzo placed his lips on yours in a gentle kiss, lingering for a moment before pulling away.
This felt right. This felt good.
You looked Terzo in the eyes, face flushed, before you eagerly dove back in, lips crashing against each other as you explored each other’s mouths, establishing a steady rhythm. Your hands traveled around his body, pulling him closer as you two kissed in the moonlight, giving you an ethereal glow.
One thing led to another, and things became more heated; hands tugging at hair, teeth nipping at necks, bodies melting into each other’s touch.
“I want you.” Terzo whispered against your neck in between kisses and bites.
“I want you too.” You mouthed. “Please.”
He showed you everything that night, feelings you didn’t even know were possible, and explored parts of you that nobody else had before.
You remember the rhythm of him so vividly you could make music out of it, each breath, moan, whisper, and word that escaped his mouth. He made you feel beautiful for the first time in your entire life, even when you were in your most vulnerable state, lying exposed under him.
“You’re beautiful.” He reassured you when you felt the urge to hide yourself from him. “So beautiful.”
Fear became arousal, any minimal pain becoming pleasure, as a friendship became something more. You fit together perfectly. You were made for each other. And after you two both reached the heights of pleasure, Terzo collapsed beside you, rolling over so you were face-to-face.
“I love you, Terzo,” You panted, hazy in your state of afterglow.
“I love you too.” He replied, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “La mia Margherita.”
You woke up in your own bed the next morning, eyes darting around the room after noticing Terzo’s absence. It wasn’t too odd for him to have left bed before you, he typically had to leave your sleepovers early in the morning to fulfill his tasks. You decided after getting ready to check if he was in the office he was newly granted. Yesterday was a big night, after all.
You knocked on his office door before inviting yourself inside.
“Terzo!” you grabbed his attention, shutting the large door behind you. What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping towards his desk.
He looked upset, his posture tense as he sat in his desk chair, hand resting on his forehead as his brow furrowed deeply.
“Hi, Y/N. Take a seat.” He addressed you, gesturing to the seat on the other side of the ornate desk.
“Are we in a meeting?” You asked, laughing as you took a seat in the chair.
“Y/N.” he started, his voice cold as he looked up at you.
“Yes?” you replied, anxious regarding his suddenly harsh tone.
“I apologize about last night.”
“How come?”
“I let my impulses take over.”
“No, Terzo, it was good! You didn’t hurt me at all! It’s okay.” You sweetly reassured him.
“It’s not that. It’s just… I shouldn’t have given in.”
You recoiled at his statement. Why was he speaking of you as if you were a sin? What were you, some temptation? Had he forgotten what church we were in?
“Given in?” You questioned, voice weakening. “What does that mean?”
“It was unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional? I’m not your colleague, Terzo, what are you talking about?’
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I need some distance moving forward.
“Distance? What do you mean? Why aren’t you answering my questions?”
“Y/N, I said, it is just… not a good time.”
“We have all the time in the world. We can make time, Terzo! Please!” You pathetically pleaded, a familiar ache welling up in your throat and chest. “Did… did last night mean nothing to you?” Tears began pouring down your face. “Have the last 11 years meant nothing too?”
“I never said that.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you were just horny and thought it would be hot to 'rid me of my innocence’ or some shit like that? Whatever perverted fantasy guys like you have? Well, congrats, Terzo. You did it. You’re a real savior.”
“I just, I cannot have you as my lover.” He stated.
“Why not? We did something… I did something I was so afraid of because I trusted you. Do you know how hard that was for me? Do you want me, or do you not?” You cried, voice breaking.
“It is not a good idea for me to have a lover.” repeated Terzo, his voice monotonous, like he was programmed to say so.
“What are you even saying? Was I not… good?” You cried out in desperation, cringing at your own words.
“I have a role to fulfill. I need to focus on my future.”
“Am I not a part of your future, Terzo?” You wept.
Terzo did not reply. He looked away from you, his expression cold and empty. Like a moth to a flame, he burned you. Plucked the petals off of you and watched them float into a roaring, relentless fire, the smooth white edges withering into a lifeless dust.
“What the fuck happened to you?” You cried, desperate for some sort of reaction from him, good or bad.
Stabbed by his betrayal and sudden distance, you stood up and slammed the chair into the desk, resulting in a shrill creaking noise and a rough slam that made your ears hurt.
“Fuck you. Fuck you, Terzo. Fuck you. I hope you fail just like Nihil told you you would. I can’t wait to see it happen. Fuck you.”
You stormed out of the room, shutting the door with such force that you could hear the contents of the room rattle as you sped down the hall.
Slamming the door to your room, you threw yourself onto your bed, putting your face into your pillow as a gut-wrenching wail left your throat. For hours, you bawled, letting out broken sobs so deep from within your body someone nearby might think you were dying. Your face was drenched in your snot and tears, the pillow stifling your breathing, making your gasps heavier and more painful. You clenched your hands into fists so tight they trembled, punching the mattress over and over again, wishing it was a person who could cry back, who could feel even a glimpse of the pain you were experiencing. You were furious. Filled with pure, seething rage. Not only with Terzo, but yourself. How could you give up your body to someone like that? So foolishly? How idiotic could you be to think a playboy like Terzo would view you any differently than anyone else? You would never get your body back. It was Terzo’s now. His last memories of you were ones you wish you could erase from his mind, ones of you writhing in pleasure, and ones of you bursting with anger. You wanted to break everything in sight. You wanted revenge, and you would get it. You knew just how.
The process of becoming a preacher in the clergy was notorious for being tedious and lengthy, even for an Emeritus son. A series of tests as well as several essays, presentations, and duties were required. The final obligation to achieve promotion was to present a journal assembled over time, documenting the studies and embarkments accomplished over the past few years.
His examination day was tomorrow.
It was a good thing you knew where Terzo kept his things.
You remember walking past Nihil’s office the next day, stopping in your tracks when you were bombarded by the sound of furious yelling so loud it might shatter glass.
“You are worthless. Worthless. Is this what you have to bring to the Emeritus name? Nothing? How foolish I was to think you would ever live up to the task. To any task. You are an embarrassment.”
Oh, no.
You wanted to take it back. Dive into the lake where you had thrown the locked leather journal and give it back. Maybe drown in the process.
You placed your trembling hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes as you began to comprehend what you had just done to your best friend, who no doubt knew you were behind its disappearance.
Soon, the door swung open, startling you nearly as much as your presence startled Terzo.
“Terzo, I… I’m sorry-“
He paid no mind to your apology, striding right past you, your shoulders brushing as he flew by.
He had ruined your chances at love, and you, his chances of success. Now, both of your chances at friendship were ruined as well.
How could he forgive you?
°❀°
The daisies were far overgrown.
It had been 5 years. 5 years since his betrayal and yours. 5 years of watching him prance around the abbey with people he probably didn’t even know the names of, with wit and character not even measuring up to half of yours. He had changed since your separation; sure, he had always had flings, but now he was just a full-on fuckboy.
Nobody in the Clergy dared to mention your falling out, surely it had to be a sensitive topic; you two were practically glued to each other’s sides, and suddenly couldn’t stand to be in the same room as each other.
Whispers spread about the church like wildfire, rumors which concocted possible explanations for your separation:
“I heard she cheated on him.”
“Apparently she was bad in bed.”
“I heard she was a psycho bitch.”
“He deserves better.”
Each time you ran into each other led to a sense of unpleasantness in the air and painfully awkward, sometimes heated exchanges; a notable example being when he dared to show up to your 21st birthday party.
The lights were dimmed, casting everyone in a shadowy glow, your intoxication causing the figures in the room to blur together. However, through the disorientation, you could still make out Terzo’s face in the crowd.
The alcohol had ignited a newfound courage inside of you, as you pushed your way through the swarm of people and stood face to face with him.
“Why are you here?” you growled.
“I was minding my own business.”
“Minding your own business at my party? If you’re here to be a whore, do it some other night. I know it’s all you’re good for, so it may be a little difficult, but fuck off, please.” You fumed.
“Whore?” He scoffed. “Should I repeat the things you were saying to me exactly three years ago on this very day?”
“Wow, Terzo, I’m impressed. I didn’t know someone as stupid as you would be able to do the math.” You snarked bitterly.
“Stupid? I taught you everything, Y/N. So some other poor man wouldn’t have to struggle to get it up while he did all the work.” He quipped.
“You sure didn’t struggle.” You retorted, the grip on your glass tightening.
“Then again, when have you ever had any respect for people’s work?” His stare suddenly darkened, sending a shiver down your spine, even in the heat of the crowd. “Oh, it’s okay, dolcezza. One day someone will give you the fairytale you desire, you’ll be a sad little housewife who will never lift a finger unless it’s for her own pleasure since her husband can’t get the job done.”
It was like someone took over your body. You were a puppet, your intoxicated rage pulling you by the strings, launching your arm forward, and drenching the man in front of you in red wine.
He didn’t even flinch. Not even did he blink. Instead, he stared down at you with a wicked smirk, licking the splattered wine off of his lips, before flashing his teeth in a smug grin. That evil, sexy bastard.
Now you were the crazy one. You were the one who attacked first, while Terzo stood as comfortably as ever. You wished he fought back, taking the empty glass in your hand and smashing it against your head, drenching yourself in the same dark red he was tainted with. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to anyone, wiping tears from your eyes as you left the masses of the party to celebrate your existence without you.
°❀°
Nearly a year had passed after your confrontation with Terzo, and you two had not spoken since then.
It was a typical Saturday sermon, you and your siblings sitting in neat rows, awaiting the arrival of Papa Nihil. As time passed by, chatter began to arise; where was Papa?
The noise came to a sudden halt whenever the chamber doors swung open as Papa Nihil entered, followed by his third son. Stepping behind the pulpit, Papa cleared his throat.
“Today is a blessed day.” He began, capturing the attention of the room. “Today is a blessed day because it is proof that our devotion to the Dark Lord can overcome any obstacles. That his darkness can push us to new heights that far surpass the heavens.” His voice echoed through the silence of the room. “I am pleased to announce that today’s sermon will be delivered by our newest preacher, my son, Terzo.” the man announced.
He did it.
He started all over again, from scratch, and managed to get it done. You were shocked, even though you shouldn’t have been- you knew he had it in him. He was going to be Papa one day, you knew, so why was his sudden shift in power hurting you so much? Why were you still angry over something that happened four years ago? It felt like he had won a game you didn’t even know you were playing. You had been tearing yourself apart from the inside out over what you had done, spoiling his first chance at success, telling yourself you wanted him to succeed even without you, but deep down, you were still bitter. Bitter seeing him so high and mighty after what he did to you.
Or was it because as he elevated higher and higher, he was still drifting further from you?
Terzo stood before the pulpit, head held high as he recited a prayer. “Ad impiam Dominum, Salvatorem nostrum, oro, tenebrae tuae valeant tangere corda eorum qui in hoc conclavi hoc serviunt. Ut nos ad studium libertatis, cognitionis ac voluptatis, dirigas. Nema.”
“Nema.” You whispered as the rest of the clergy echoed his prayer.
“I will leave this to you. I trust the Clergy is in good hands.” Nihil stated, exiting the room at a senile pace.
“Ciao, my Siblings of Sin. I figured today I would start with something fresh, something a little more… youthful.” He began, evoking laughter from his audience. Already off to a good start. “Today I would like to- actually- love to examine something found in every one of you … lust. Now in this church, we are no strangers to sin of any kind, but this one… We relish it. We are not ashamed of it. It is the reason we are all here, to begin with. What creates life. But what if I told you that lust is not only what brings us into this world… but what keeps us here as well? It is not only heated nights and bodies intertwined, it is something… greater.”
You couldn’t listen to this. You couldn’t. It was too much, even after all these years. As you slowly felt yourself begin to disconnect from reality in a state of dissociation, a ringing began to build in your ears, like your body was trying to protect you from whatever he was saying. You mindlessly stared at the floor as he continued preaching, and in the blink of an eye, an hour had passed, as Terzo made his final statement.
“It is lust that keeps us alive. Thank you, siblings.”
The church burst into applause, clearly moved by his words. But it made you angry. This wasn’t a performance act, this was service, but he had the Clergy wrapped around his finger with his captivating presence. But, at the same time, could you be mad at him for a job well done? You were the bitter one, holding onto your past as you desperately pumped air into its cold, dead lungs, trying to bring it back to life and rekindle a flame that was long gone.
As you were about to exit the room with your siblings of sin, you had the urge to say something on your way out. You reached the front of the room, Terzo standing just feet away at the pedestal, your mind rapidly firing through things you could say to him. Say sorry. Tell him he did well. Flip him off. Grab him by the hair and throw him into the wall. Or… grab him by the hair, pull him in close, and- Ugh. And just as you passed him, you built up the courage to give him one brief message.
“Congratulations.” You quietly uttered, not even making eye contact, before following your siblings of sin out of the room.
Terzo continued to exhibit talent and passion through his sermons over the next year. He was a gifted speaker; he had no trouble capturing the attention of the crowd. You actively fought against his charm, attempting to train yourself to tune out Terzo’s preaching. It was hard to pay attention to the subject matter at hand whenever his voice brought back memories of the laughter, whispers, and conversations you shared throughout your childhood. Unfortunately, due to the overwhelmingly positive reactions he received from the siblings, he was preaching quite a lot, every Saturday at that. You stayed in the shadows during group discussions, your voice silent, your passion for the Dark Lord not alive as it once was. Eventually, you started skipping sermons on Saturdays altogether. Missing your own God hurt less than missing your best friend.
You knew you should be over it, it was foolish and immature to hold onto your past conflicts, which happened years ago at this point. But you hated him. Or, at least, you hated seeing him. The power had gotten to his head, there was no doubt. His ego had never been higher. You couldn’t stand seeing him stride around the Abbey looking so satisfied with himself, arm wrapped around the nearest person as he ushered them to his bedroom.
And no matter how hard you tried to drown it out, his words still echoed in your mind.
“It is lust that keeps us alive.”
°❀°
One Saturday, when you had planned to study in the library, word spread that everyone was to attend service that day. You would rather do anything but go, but you couldn’t disobey the direct orders given to you. You took a seat in the back of the room as usual, bracing yourself to hear Terzo’s voice. As the siblings waited for the arrival of their speaker, you fidgeted with your habit, staring at the ground as you anxiously pondered what message was so important for everybody to be summoned. You heard footsteps pacing towards the pulpit, a sigh, and then a voice addressing the Clergy. But to your surprise, it was not Terzo’s voice, rather than that belonging to his brother, Primo. Primo stood at the head of the room, his facial expression solemn, and cleared his throat.
“Siblings of Sin,” He began. Something was wrong.
“We are a family here. We have come together as a group of outcasts, free thinkers, and rebellious souls. We have found comfort and safety in each other, and will continue to do so throughout all phases of life.” He stated, his grim tone leaving the siblings on the edge of their seats.
“And death.”
Your heart dropped. No, there was no way.
If you’re here to be a whore, do it some other night. I know it’s all you’re good for-
Someone as stupid as you-
Fuck you. Fuck you, Terzo. Fuck you. I hope you fail just like Nihil told you you would. I can’t wait to see it happen. Fuck you.
Every hateful thing you had ever said to Terzo began replaying in your mind at a debilitating pace. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way. You sat in the back of the chamber, trying not to hyperventilate as the world caved in around you. It felt as if your heart had sunken into the ground beneath you, and you wished you would sink with it. That it was you instead of Terzo. You began to spiral so deeply you swore the room began to as well, your surroundings blurring together as the walls began to spin, and-
“We will never forget Papa Nihil and his impact.”
The spinning stopped. You could finally breathe. The tears streaming down your face became tears of joy as you experienced a relief so enlightening you felt like you could float. It was horrible, that the news of someone’s death brought you relief, but you were infinitely grateful that the someone wasn’t Terzo. But why wasn’t Terzo here?
It didn’t matter. He was somewhere. And you had to find him.
You stood up, excusing yourself from the service as you burst out the door and sprinted down the hallway. The adrenaline you faced was still coursing through your veins and fueled your every step. Your body, driven by autopilot, knew where it was taking you before your mind even did. You ran down the hall and out of the two glass doors, nearly tripping down the staircase as you entered the large field. A patch of daisies stood in the distance, and beside it, a figure hunched over, sitting on the ground. Terzo.
You ran faster than you ever had in your entire life, nearly crashing into the grass as you knelt beside him.
“Terzo!” you panted. He did not respond, focusing on something in his hands. You looked down and noticed a few daisies were set before him, two in his hands as he tied them together. “I’m not here to start a fight, Terzo.” His silence combined with your shrill voice made you feel like the preacher here. “Terzo, please just talk to me, I- I thought you died, Terzo.” you expressed, voice cracking.
“What?” He responded, his head snapping up.
“I thought you died.” You hysterically repeated. “I thought you were gone. When they, they told us about Nihil—before they said who it was- I- I thought it was you.” You wept. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him so tightly he might burst, his body initially stiffening up, but soon melting into your embrace. You had seen him and heard him throughout the past five years, but you hadn’t felt him in far too long. How you missed him. His scent, his warm body pressed against yours. The soft rise and fall of his chest. You pulled away, soaking in the eye contact you had craved for so long. “I was so scared. I was so scared. It was like… The world stopped. And I just… I regretted everything. I felt what it was like to lose you. Again. For those few seconds. I wanted nothing else more than to have you back. And I do. I want you back. I’m… Why am I always the one crying? I just, I want you back.” You wept violently. “I miss you, I miss you so bad. I want my best friend back. I know you’ve moved on but it hurts to hold this in. I miss you so bad, I masked it behind hate, but I want you back so badly.”
“… I miss you too, Y/N.” replied Terzo, quietly.
“Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t even share my condolences- I’m sorry about Nihil. Is that why you skipped service today?” you asked, momentarily hesitating before resting a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s fine. He’ll come back to haunt me, if not literally, figuratively. And no, I am not the one skipping service. I haven’t had my Saturday spot in months now, I switched to the late-night sessions on Fridays.”
“Why did they move you?”
“They didn’t. I chose it. I thought maybe you would come to that one.” He confessed.
“You… you noticed I was gone?”
“Of course I did.”
“Then… why didn’t you just come talk to me?” you asked.
“I thought, why would you want to talk to me after what I did to you?”
“If you know it was so wrong, then why did you do it, Terzo?” you snapped.
Terzo did not respond, and instead, stared at the flowers in his hands.
“Don’t go silent on me again. Please. I remember exactly what you said five years ago, Terzo. You told me, ‘It is not a good idea for me to have a lover.’ And then you go off to fuck however many siblings of sin, and won’t even look me in the eyes? I don’t care how long ago it was, Terzo, it still hurts just as bad as it did the day you told me to take a seat across from you. Every time I think of what happened in the garden, I… It hurts. I felt disgusting, Terzo. I felt so guilty. I still do. I wanted to scrub my body clean of you after you left me, I wanted you out of my body and mind. But you never left. I wanted so badly not to want you after what happened. But I still did. You broke my trust, Terzo. You broke my heart. And seeing you walk around the Abbey all high and mighty, so happy, at your peak, without me, it’s destroying me. ”
“Y/N. I haven’t had a single lover since the day I left you. All those quick fucks- they weren’t lovers. Those people were the impulses I let take over. Not you. You were more than that. I am far from my peak. I am at my lowest. The only thing that kept me alive was you, Y/N. Lust was the second-best thing. I’m sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry.” He apologized, looking up at you, his eyes full of remorse.
“Then why did you ghost me? Why, Terzo, if it was so hard, why did you-”
“It wasn’t my choice, Y/N,” He interjected.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t your choice?” You sniffled, rubbing tears from your eyes.
“It was my father, Y/N. My father- Nihil told me I couldn’t be around you anymore. He knew we were more than a stupid fling, that’s why he stopped it. He considered a relationship that was as committed as ours, platonic or romantic, more of a distraction from my duties than worthless hookups would be. And then, after I had nothing to present to him, he thought it proved his point. That you weren’t good for me, you distracted me from my goals. It only worsened his disapproval. I should’ve stood up to him. I should have explained otherwise. But I was afraid.”
“Terzo, I… It did prove his point. I ruined your chance. I’m the reason you had to wait to become a preacher.” You lamented, guilt riddling your heart.
“It is true, you took the journal. It hurt. That you intended to do such a thing, soil my progress. But you didn’t ruin anything for me. I ruined it for myself. I wasn’t ready for that responsibility at all. There was nothing in the journal to begin with, Y/N.” He revealed.
“What?”
“I did nothing. I had nothing to present.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, Y/N. There was nothing.” he restated.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew I hurt you so deeply. I didn’t want to hurt you again.I thought you wouldn’t want to be around me ever again. I was afraid of my father’s reaction. And now, I don’t have to be afraid.”
Both of you were so blinded by your stubbornness, unwillingness to communicate, and fear of rekindling a flame you thought was long gone, that you did not realize you both longed for the same thing: each other.
“I can’t pretend this is just a friendship, Terzo. Or that it ever was. I know it was one night, but I… it’s not just that.”
“It was never just one night,” he responded.
“Could we… would you ever want to try again, Terzo?” you asked, fearfully preparing yourself for rejection.
“I want that more than anything.” Silence spread through the air once again. But this one was a comfortable silence, one that allowed you to bathe in each other’s presence. One that allowed you to be grateful for the each other and nothing else. You looked down at the flowers placed in front of him.
“Sometimes when I am stressed, I do what you taught me. Make daisy chains.” He explained. “It feels like you’re with me.”
Your heart melted at the sentiment of the action, as he tied the final two flowers together.
“Well, I’m with you now. And I’m not going anywhere.” you professed.
Terzo tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and placed the crown on top of your head.
“And neither am I.” He said, kissing the top of your head before pulling you into another hug, one less frantic than the one before, but still just as needed. The feeling of his heart beating against yours breathed new air into your lungs, brought you back to life, his arms wrapped around you providing you a familiar sense of safety you had been deprived of for years now.
“My best friend. My soulmate. La mia Margherita.”
°❀°
As you rolled over in bed, you found yourself face to face with your lover, his appearance still blissfully remnant of his slumber; heavy eyes and perfectly messy hair.
“Happy birthday, Margherita.” he rasped, a soft smile grazing his lips.
You two began getting ready for the day, side-by-side in the bathroom mirror, as you always did.
“Shit. I’m out of paint.” He cursed, after opening the container and seeing the contents were empty.
You rummaged through your makeup bag and handed him a tube of eyeliner, saving the day.
“Ah, grazie. What would I do without you?” He asked, leaning over to kiss your cheek.
“I’m not sure.” You teased. For a moment, you just stared at him in the mirror, admiring his features as he applied his eye makeup. “Hard to believe you’re a Cardinal.” You broke the silence.
“You thought I couldn’t do it?” He played with you, gently jabbing you in the side with his elbow.
“Oh, no, it's just- it feels like yesterday you were giving your first sermon as a preacher.” You recalled. “It is lust that keeps us alive.”
“You still remember?” He asked, smiling fondly.
“Of course I do.”
“I won’t let you forget, my lust may continue into my afterlife as well.”
“You’re gonna be a horny ghost?” You laughed.
“Si.” He confirmed, evoking more laughter out of you. “Merda. I have a meeting at 12. What time is it?” He asked, frantically looking around for a clock.
“You’re a mess. Good thing that’s why I love you.” You chuckled, entering your bedroom to check the time. “It’s 11:55.”
“Merda! Okay, I have to go now. I’ll be back here at around 12. Have fun with your sisters.”
“See you, Terzo.” You said, kissing him on the cheek before he bolted out of the room.
Later that day, after a nice brunch with your sisters, you and Terzo sat on a stone bench in the garden, admiring the surrounding scenery. You discovered something new about it each time you visited- Primo’s attention to detail never ceased to impress you.
“So, about what I said earlier…” He began.
“About being a horny ghost? Terzo, we aren’t doing anything in here.” You bantered.
“You’re right. It is too bright outside. Unless you suggest otherwise. Ah, I joke. But what I was going to say is…” He took a deep breath in. “How much of my first sermon do you remember?”
“Um, honestly, not a lot… My head wasn’t in the right place,” you admitted.
“I assumed. But there is something I said that day that I would like to tell you now if that’s okay.”
You nodded.
“I have learned a lot about lust. And, while a lot of it is, well, a hands-on experience, I could say- the most important thing I have learned about it is something I learned in contemplation, by myself.”
“What is it?”
“That lust is not only heated nights and bodies intertwined, it is something… greater. But what I did not say was that- that something greater is you, Y/N. We are taught lust is longing, a desire so deep that we cannot live without it… Something innate inside of us… You are the only thing that ignites that inside of me. The only thing that has ever been innate to me, ever. There is nothing else I long for more than you.” confessed Terzo, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box. Your jaw dropped when he opened it, revealing a dazzling gold ring that glimmered in the sunlight, the band embedded with gems, and in the center, a sparkling diamond surrounded by engravements resembling petals.
A daisy ring.
“Y/N… Will you marry me?”
The winding path had led you right back to where you began, a love so pure and treasured it could never fade.
Terzo Emeritus, your best friend, former enemy, your first and last lover.
The tears forming in your eyes made them glimmer as brightly as the ring itself, as you replied,
“Yes.”
Terzo slipped the ring onto your finger, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before wrapping you in his embrace. And as you were mid-embrace with your fiancée, you opened your eyes, and in the distance, spotted a few daisies daring to sprout beside the garden gates.
Primo was right. Those things would never die.
╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝
o m g.
please forgive me, i always get all sappy at the end of my posts even though it's stupid haha. this is the longest i've ever consistently worked on a fic, and the longest one i've written. this was a wild wild ride let me tell you. i actually had to shut my laptop at one point cause i started tearing up, i know the story is nothing revolutionary, but i’m emotional haha. also… i HIGHLY recommend the playlist. i’m biased but i am in love with this playlist haha. there are a lot of hidden details and concepts in this fic i kind of geek out over. if you’re interested in an analysis post, lmk! or if you’re not, well i might make one anyway haha i’m annoying lmao
thank you endlessly for reading, as always.
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-alice
📎 check out my masterlist!
✉️ requests are always open!
#the band ghost#ghost band#ghost#papa emeritus iii#terzo#papa emeritus#papa terzo#papa emeritus x reader#terzo x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader
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Dying Light [Chapter Five] Tea [Bi-Han/Sub-Zero]
A/n: I apologize in advance for the short chapter, but it was necessary. Please enjoy.
Warning(s): female reader, Bi-Han being Bi-Han, arranged marriage au, bonding over tea, revelation, mixed emotions, a tad bit of intimacy, teasing, slight slow burn.
Tag List: @genesiswrld, @cherryblossomly, @dilf-destroyer-04, @louis2gobrrn, @umbransister
No Minors Allowed!!
It is no cinch to those new to the harsh weather of Arctika, but long after sunset, the group reaches the temple, mostly unharmed. You are given no time to take in the icy scenery before you are patched up and then escorted to a warm but spacious room of your own with nothing in it but a bed, a vanity, and a closet. With most of your things lost to the snow - Bi-Han had allowed you to carry what you were able to - you have nothing much to fill the room with; a pair of warm clothes and some minor necessities are all you have to your name.
This inevitable issue, however, will have to wait till tomorrow. You are too exhausted. A night robe is fetched for you, then once you are dressed, you crawl into bed and close your eyes.
You do not even remember falling asleep until the sound of knocking abruptly wakes you.
Is it already dawn? You can not tell.
Reluctantly, you crawl out of bed, groaning as your muscles hurt from the excursion of the previous day. The burn reminds you of the morning after a training session with your master. You trudge over to the door and open it, greeted by a woman with short pewter hair. Her eyes, a shade of arctic blue, gauge you.
“Apologies for waking you, Madam,” she states. “But Master Bi-Han insisted that I do so.”
You raise a curious brow.
“Am I needed for something?”
“No, but he did mention that your things were lost. I can be of service,” she answers.
You understand. That is…kind of him, you suppose.
“Give me a moment to redress - and possibly wake up - then we can talk.”
She nods and waits outside as you dress in one of the two outfits you hauled up the mountain. Once your unkempt hair is combed, you open the door and allow her inside.
“You did lose nearly everything,” she points out, taking a look around.
“There were luckily no irreplaceable things aboard,” you state.
She hums.
“Perhaps some of my clothes will fit you. If not then one of the others might have some. Trips to the nearby town are seldom.”
“Are there many women in the Lin Kuei?” You ask, raising a brow.
The pewter-haired woman nods.
“Aside from myself, I'm Frost, by the way. There is Cyrax and a handful of grunts.” She pauses a moment, turning toward you with a grin. “And now you, the Grandmaster’s wife.”
You frown and offer her your name.
“I've heard about you…and your magic. Some of the grunts were talking about it,” Frost mentions.
You have no doubt. The majority of them witnessed it firsthand, some even saw it twice. You cross your arms, feeling a bit uneasy in the spotlight. It is as expected though, you are new here, in addition to being married to Bi-Han.
“Are you also able to do magic?”
Frost grins and raises her hand. From her mid-arm and up freezes over. You widen your eyes.
“You can do ice magic? Like Bi-Han.”
“Impressed? Master and I are descendants of the Cryomancers, a race from Edenia,” Frost states with pride.
You had never heard of Edenia before. Were there more realms out there besides Earthrealm and Outworld? And what of Kuai Liang or Tomas? Their powers are not ice-based.
There is still much I do not know.
You hum.
“Do the Lin Kuei keep scrolls? I would like to learn what I can about them.”
“That is a service I can not help you with,” Frost admits. “You would have to ask Master Bi-Han.”
You understand. Every clan has its secrets. Locked away, however, you do not know if you will ever see Bi-Han to ask him. This room is a clear sign he means to distance himself from you. But you do not want to be locked away like some damsel from a fantasy novel.
“Can you show me around?” You ask with hope. You want to at least familiarize yourself with your new home.
Frost grins.
“That I can do.”
You are grateful.
For the next half hour, Frost shows you the temple. Aside from the storehouse, which contains the various types of weapons used by the Lin Kuei, and the training hall, you are most impressed by the shared bathhouse, built around a natural hot spring.
You were not expecting your new home to be so likable.
Despite having to share a room, each of the fighters had a comfortable place to rest; Frost took you to her chamber to give you essentials that she could spare or no longer needed. The kitchen and spacious dining area were the final rooms she showed you before taking you back to your bedchamber.
“If you need me, I am usually in the training hall or my room,” she mentions.
You nod, thanking her again.
“I'll see you around, Madam,” Frost says with a wave.
I don't think I will ever get used to that.
Putting away your new things, you decide to venture into the temple on your own. One thing Frost made clear was that the Lin Kuei took care of themselves. With makeup on, you then saunter to the kitchen for a light snack and a cup of tea.
It takes you a few minutes to navigate the many cupboards but upon finding the electric kettle, you put some water on the stove to boil. As you are waiting, deciding on what to make, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching.
A conversation pauses mid-sentence as one or both of the brothers notice you. Kuai Liang immediately bows, followed by Tomas, much to your dismay.
“Please, that isn't necessary. We are in-laws now,” you mention.
“If you insist, Madam,” Tomas says in agreement.
Kuai Liang nods, then saunters over to the cupboard, rummaging through it.
“Would you both like some tea?” You ask.
“If you are offering,” Kuai Liang answers. “I will fetch the bean cakes then.”
You softly smile.
The brothers sit at a low table in the seating area as the water boils. You, in the meantime, place tea leaves in 3 cups, bringing them and the kettle over to the table.
“I’ll get that for you,” Tomas offers.
You deny him the chance.
“Please, allow me.” You pour the water into the cups. “If the wedding had been traditional, I would have had to serve tea to my in-laws. It feels like the least I can do.”
“Your gratitude is appreciated,” Kuai Liang states.
You are glad he thinks so. Sitting at the table with them you eat a bean cake as your tea steeps.
“We did not have the chance to see, but did the ceremony fare well?” Tomas asks.
“It was…nice,” you admit. And sudden.
You honestly do not remember much about that day. Other than the apprehension.
“Steel yourself.”
Your face heats up. It was Bi-Han’s words that eased you that day. It is ironic.
“I wish I had seen our brother in his wedding attire,” Tomas mentions with a grin. “I imagine he scowled the entire ceremony.”
“Tomas,” Kuai Liang chides.
You can tell that he does not mean it. There is a smile on his face.
“Does he express no other emotion?”
Tomas laughs.
“As Grandmaster, brother has much on his mind,” Kuai Liang points out.
You imagine so.
“A wife certainly does not add comfort.”
“You are more than a wife,” Kuai Liang mentions. “He expressed this himself.”
Your face heats up. It is because of your magic, nothing more. Lifting the cup to your lips, you take a sip. If he considers you more, then why does he distance himself from you?
“Where is Bi-Han this morning?”
“With the recruits,” Tomas answers.
You hum. So, he will be busy for most of the day. He might even miss lunch or dinner. It's your job as a wife to attend to him, is it not?
“What sort of food should I make for dinner?”
“Rice is always a good choice and seasonal vegetables,” Tomas points out.
Kuai Liang scolds him again, then covers his grin with the teacup. “And Poultry for muscle building.”
You laugh. It seems as though they are both eager.
A sudden icy chill makes you shiver, despite the warmth from your teacup. Kuai Liang seems to notice something you do not. Following his gaze, you frown as you notice Bi-Han standing in the doorway.
Is the sudden chill coming from him?
“Brother,” Kuai Liang utters, greeting him.
“Your attention should be on the recruits,” Bi-Han points out.
Without a word, the two brothers stand; Tomas thanks for the tea, and then the two of them leave. You sigh, rather liking their company. To avoid an awkward moment, you stand and walk over to the cabinet for another cup.
“Would you like some tea? The water in the kettle should still be hot.”
Bi-Han hums and takes a seat at the table. You serve him and then continue to enjoy your tea.
An awkward silence soon settles in, and you consider returning to your room without so much as a word, but a part of you does not want to leave things this way. This marriage is going to be unpleasant should you decide to ignore him at every turn.
Why can't he be the one to start a conversation though? Is he afraid of me?
You can not control the smile that pulls at your lips.
“Do you frequently think of plunging people into your portals?” Bi-Han asks.
You snort, sitting down your cup.
“Only those who irritate me.”
Bi-Han raises a brow and looks at you.
“Is that said in jest?”
“Perhaps,” you state. “If it gives you solace, I don't think you are irritating…just aloof.”
You can tell by the way his brows knit that he wants you to elaborate, but you do not wish to.
“Your brothers claimed that you were busy with the recruits. How are they fairing?”
“This conversation is not over,” Bi-Han states with a sigh. He takes a drink and then sets down his cup. “They show purpose. But to learn our ways, it will require time; time we have too much of these days.”
That is a fair assessment, though you wonder what he means by his last statement. He seems almost irritated. You hum, considering if you should ask him now about the history of the Lin Kuei. In the end, you decide against it.
Another time.
Sliding his cup out, you take this action as a sign that Bi-Han wants more tea. You take his cup to the kitchen counter to prepare it, then you return to the table and fill it with hot water. As you attempt to return to your seat, Bi-Han reaches out and grabs your arm, halting you.
“Your grip is harsh,” you point out.
“Sit,” he orders, loosening his hold on you a bit.
You do so, raising a curious brow.
Bi-Han lifts his other hand and runs his thumb across your bottom lip, then examines the smear of lipstick across his skin. Your heart races. It felt nice.
“There is no reason to wear this for me.”
An embarrassed heat spreads across your face. While it is true that you started dolling up for him, hearing him point this out makes you feel uncomfortable.
“And if I chose to wear it because it makes me feel nice?”
Bi-Han knits his brows.
“Does it?”
You frown, choosing not to answer.
“There is no reason for you to wear that red jewelry bag either. We are not in the company–”
“Be quiet,” Bi-Han orders. You do so, taken off guard. “I bootlick no one. My decision to wear it is my own.”
But why? You do not know what to say to this. A strange sentiment overcomes you; fondness. Surely, he does not think more of this marriage than he lets on.
“Forgive me. I had assumed that given our standing, you were wearing it for a public image.”
Bi-Han releases your arm.
“I do not seek a public image; I seek combatants. This union is no more than a formality…but I admit you are more than I bargained for.”
Kuai Liang spoke the truth. He thinks of you as more of a warrior than a wife.
“I have given it much thought, and as of tomorrow, you will train as Lin Kuei.”
Is he serious? Given your ability, you do not blame him for wanting to utilize it. So, why do you feel a bit disappointed? Is this not what you want? To be seen as more than a title.
You sigh.
“I understand.”
You suppose this alternative is better than being closed off in a room for the rest of your life. Is marriage even necessary now?
Resting your fingers on your bottom lip, you tighten your jaw. The intimacy of his touch lingers. Why did Bi-Han do that? Touch you in such a way. It irritates you, and not because he smeared your lipstick. Because for a moment you longed for more.
No…just no.
#mortal kombat fandom#bi han x reader#mortal kombat fanfiction#bi han mk1#arranged marriage au#female reader insert#x reader#mortal kombat 1 fanfiction#Spotify
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Your introductory post is amazing!!
Care to share some facts about the ROs?
Thank you so much for the compliment! I am glad to share a few facts about them.
Sultan Ahmad
Ahmad was originally intended by his father to follow a career amongst the clergy. He is a devout follower of Zephyr's deity, Annur. He often prays for guidance. He feels it keeps him humble and close to his people.
Ahmad writes poetry. It is why he bonded with Emil in the first place. His poetry is very private and he rarely shares it with anyone.
Ahmad's love language is gift giving and words of affirmation. Grand Vizier Selim
Selim hates the smell of seafood. It reminds him of his homeland. Of what he has lost.
Selim considers Meryem his only genuine friend at court. He acts as an uncle to her son, Mustafa.
Selim's love language is acts of service.
Valide Sultan Nazli
Nazli sews in her free time. She patches up the holes in Ahmad's clothes personally, instead of having maids do it for her. It is her way to show him she loves him despite their arguments.
Nazli funds many organisations aimed towards taking care of children and women. That includes orphanages as well as houses for widows and women who are abused by their husbands and need to get away.
Nazli likes cats. She has one in fact. Her cat's name is Bow.
Nazli's love language is quality time.
Haseki (?) Sultan Meryem
Meryem had secretly wished she got a daughter, instead of a son, so she could dress her up and style her hair with no judgement.
Meryem plays multiple instruments. Her favourite one is the harp.
Meryem has a terrible fear of spiders. It is an almost crippling terror. If she sees one, she will scream and the whole castle will hear.
Meryem's love language is words of affirmation.
Emil De Angelis
Emil struggles with constant impostor syndrome. He fears being surrounded by yes men and being stuck forever creatively, unable to improve.
Emil has two different sketchbooks. One which he shares publicly and another which is just for him. If you touch the second one, prepare to lose your hand.
Emil decided he wanted to be an artist when he was five. At 13, he run away from home to attend an art school, but he had to drop out when his mother got sick. Her death devastated him.
Emil's love language is acts of service.
Helena
Helena wanted to become a pirate when she was a kid. She used to practice swordfighting with a wooden stick and beat all her brothers.
Helena always wished she could fly. If she could, she would take MC away to explore the wonders of the world.
Helena's love language is physical touch.
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you have a new tzim you say? 👀👀
Oh, yeah I do! She's an STC for a Gehenna / Cult campaign I'm throwing together for my players now that we're finished with our first go-round of Chicago By Night. Funnily enough, and I really need to get back to writing that family tree, her ghoul is one of Blondie's nieces. Here's the breakdown: :)
BASIC INFORMATION:
NAME: Fatima Rai
FEELS STRONGLY ABOUT (convictions): - Not harming innocent people. - The guilty should be made to suffer.
In life she would've had golden brown skin, but it's lost a bit of its luster in the years since. She has ebony black hair that's parted in the middle and swept over her shoulders. It stops just at her shoulders.
Tall and lanky, notably so. She stands at 6'2'' and has an unnerving stillness to her movements. Rarely blinks.
ALLEGED HISTORY & CURRENT ROLE AMIDST THE CULT:
While not particularly keen to share details of her Pre-Embrace life, Fatima Rai came to the compound five years prior to the start of the campaign (Chiss Note: that would be 1995) - offering her exceptional medical services in exchange for Asylum from a wider world she doesn't think herself properly equipped to be apart of. She, albeit hesitantly, willingly submitted herself to both the Blood Bond and the background checks without much in the way of complaint. In terms of prior Sect affiliation, she claims that both her and her Sire were Autarkis - content to live on the outside of any political squabbles that may've found their way into their domain so long as their property wasn't included in it. Or, well, her Sire was. To them, she was just another portion of their admittedly sizable horde - a tool to be used in their night-to-night practices. The irony of now bending the knee to another master is not lost on her, though as is the nature of the Blood Bond, she doesn't seem to mind all that much - so long as she and Becky are treated equitably. Using skills that she picked up as a carry-over from her time as a mortal, she tended to the other servants the best way she knew how to; patching them up when and where she could. Her skills with a scalpel also, notably, translated quite well into the time she spent indulging in the varied uses of Vicissitude and Fleshcrafting. As it currently stands, Fatima is seemingly loyal to the cause - even if she is a bit awkward in her stature and bedside manner. Many of the cult's other members were unnerved by her cold and mildly-off putting mannerisms, an adage that still holds true for new recruits, but over time they came to realize that she has her quirks just like everyone else and seemingly has their best interests at heart. Her Ghoul, 17-year-old Becky Masterson, is notably much more chipper than she is - handling the more human side of their joint medical operation. Fatima, notably, also prefers to speak using American Sign Language when she can help it, keeping Becky at her side always to act as a translator for anyone that needs it and so that she can make sure no harm comes to a single follicle on her Ghoul's head.
DISCIPLINES:
Blood Sorcery (from Bagger) A Taste For Blood - (By tasting a drop of blood, the user can discern certain basic traits of the one to whom it belongs.)
Protean Vicissitude - (Rare outside clan Tzimisce, this power allows the vampire to demand obedience of their own flesh. Skin, muscles, and even bone can be sculpted or warped out of shape, the end result sometimes unnervingly beautiful but just as often monstrous. Skilled users can craft bizarre characteristics or reshape their entire bodies, though larger transformations exact a heavy toll on their physique. Kindred who use Vicissitude create everything from useful body tools to... expressive... ornamentation) Fleshcrafting - (Extending their mastery over flesh, the vampire can inflict their ministrations on the bodies of others. The power is rightly feared, as many of its users have a reputation for inhuman torture, though some employ it to great effect to enhance and adapt their servants and allies.) Horrid Form (never witnessed by the cult's leaders, merely warned about after being Blood Bonded.) - ("With a mastery of the body so complete that it surpasses natural limitations, the vampire can take on a truly monstrous form, complete with vicious claws, protruding fangs, ridged features, and corded muscles. Although its exact traits can vary between occasions, the form often has an individual, specific appearance that manifests every time this power is used, a vision of the user's Beast made flesh. Some look like hellishly malformed animals, some look demonic or atavistic, and some defy any sense of worldly familiarity. Many incorporate the traits of other vampires in nature, such as leeches, bats, ticks, and mosquitoes, magnified to grotesque proportions.")
ADVANTAGES AND FLAWS
Linguistics: English, Hindi, American Sign Language.
She, for the most part, doesn't look as if she could hurt a fly. You know better. (Ingenue)
Retainer (Ghoul, Becky.)
Constantinople (The Trinity) ("Outside the Ashirra, vampire tradition refers to Istanbul as "Constantinople." You are one of the few who know why. Constantinople represented everything possible in a city where vampires shared idea and discussed philosophy without falling to carnage.")
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Weak-willed (••) ("You struggle to assert your own personality when confronted with the will of another. You may not necessarily be submissive; perhaps you feel more confident when following another person's lead.")
Enemy (••) (From Bagger) ("...Tight nit group of Weak Mortals... Kids who solve mysteries...")
Transparent (•) ("For whatever reason, you aren't a good liar, and it shows.")
ATTRIBUTES AND SKILLS
Intelligence (••••)
Strength (•••)
Stamina (•••)
Resolve (•••)
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Medicine (••••)
(S: First Aid) Academics (•••)
(S: Historical applications of medicine)
Science (•••) (S: Genetics)
#my ocs#I feel the need to clarify that my players are in charge of the cult#which isn't a Gehenna cult#but rather an attempt a rebirthing Constantinople
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