#as a long lost dream i can never attain

[j-femmescoli]

i had my potential roommates fuck up and make us lose out on our (my dream) apartment by not filing their documents in time before another group swept in and got signed so i sent them a really long text explaining how disappointed i am and how i felt like i did most of the work for this apartment because i wanted to be moved in in like 2 weeks and now i have to find a place before school starts in, again, like 2 weeks and then saying that im gonna move on and look for a place without them because i dont want to go thru this again and now im worried that it's too aggressive.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

If youre doing Hollow Knight, I've always wanted to have something where reader has a crush on zote (even though they actually are a fighter and know he's full of shit)

I dunno I just like the idea of sitting on a bench chatting while he carved a new Life Ender (the last one was shattered on contact)

Yes! I love Zote

.........

"Hmph. I lost? To that blundering fool? What nonsense are you dribbling?? Luck was simply in their favor, but it won't save them next time. Not once my upgrade is complete."

"...I watched your battle in the Colosseum, Zote. And they shattered your Life Ender like it was nothing."

"Pah!" With a scoff, Zote tossed his head up pridefully, gazing at you--a fellow bug knight he was sharing a bench with, who was sharpening their own nail. "What if I told you that was also part of my plan the whole time? My ruse has fooled even you, who are beneath me....yet I'll admit your strength exceeds theirs."

"Wow...um..thank you?" From behind your mask, a warmth spreads across your face, and you're relieved that he couldn't see it at this moment. But he could sense your gratitude and simply huffed.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Your tactics are still rugged and need much work. But at least you stay true to your nail and don't use ridiculous "spells" and "charms" to cheat." He tutted, looking down at the new Life Ender he was carving for himself. "How can they even call themselves a knight? A shaman would better suit them."

"Well to be fair, I never heard them speak, so-"

"So it's all rumors then, spreading like that blasted disease. Trust me when I say this, [y/n], all of them will be dispelled next we meet. That is a promise. I'm going to expose them for the fraud they are!"

"....I take it that you're still not gonna thank them for saving you from that giant Vengefly?"

"Nay! I had that wicked beast right where I wanted it to be! Its mandibles were dull, its wings were exhausted, and I was moving in for the kill...and then.....ah...s-so what of it? It's in the past." He suddenly dismissed, shaking his head.

You remained silent as you gazed at him, confused at his stutter. He loved taking credit for other bugs' fights, even yours, but for some reason he didn't feel like boasting about the "victories" he took from the Knight for the umpteenth time.

if only you had that dream nail they seemed to be running around with, perhaps you could peer into his mind and understand his true thoughts.

But then again, having traveled throughout the ruins of Hallownest together for so long--despite his claims and desires to be alone--you knew him like the back of your claw. No dream nail needed. He came here to fulfill a goal, as did you, vowing to be the greatest fighter and attain glory....

Yet after every encounter with the Knight, you weren't seeing as much of that haughty demeanor anymore. You briefly mentioned it after he was rescued in Deepnest, and he doubled down, claiming he reigned supreme over the spider tribe...but you could see right through him.

Of course, you knew Zote better than most bugs, even Bretta. You notice little things about him.

He pretends to hate how barren and sullen the town of Dirtmouth is, yet he'll stay with you until you're both ready to dive back down underground.

He says he lost the ability to laugh a long time ago, but you heard his quiet chitters after he saw you lob a sharp rock at a Fungoon with flawless precision, watching it pop and deflate like a balloon.

He rejects the idea of using Stag Stations, bragging about how his legs never failed him and believed that the last stag should've joined their brethren long ago....yet he still follows you and clings to the back of your chair, afraid to fall off.

He'd rather die than admit it, but he appreciates you looking out for him--even if he tries losing you on purpose or insists on splitting up. Most of the time, you're saving him from the mandibles of a beast or pulling him back from a spike pit he never noticed. Try as he might, he hasn't convinced you that he could've gotten out of those situations himself.

You've come to realize that he only wanted to share his "victories" with someone....or at least have someone to brag about his victories to.

"Well.." You cleared your throat. "For what it's worth, the fact that you've survived down here for so long is admirable. Not many bugs can say that."

"Survive? No., no, no....I thrive down here!" That seemed to lift his mood up as he raised his newly-carved nail to the sky. "It's those pitiful empty husks that are struggling to survive, with no free will. I'll claim victory over them all! Even that little knight."

"I know you will. And when that day comes, I hope to be right by your side."

There's a silence that falls over him as he stares at you. The only sounds you two heard were the pitter-patter of the rain outside, and the footsteps of the husk sentries, stuck in their endless patrol of the City of Tears.

You were worried that your words somehow offended Zote, but then...the smallest of triumphant smiles appeared on his face--and it appeared genuine this time. As though he was finally learning to just be himself.

"Of course." He sheathed Life Ender. "You will be the first to bear witness to my greatness, [y/n]."

[vn-translations]

Game: Diabolik Lovers, More Blood

Prologue Translation:

— Do you desire eternal life? — I asked him.

He looked at me seriously but then involuntarily laughed and replied:

"Better to be a pig and enjoy life than to be human and suffer."

I gazed at him, realizing he was right. That was precisely the answer I had been seeking.

Naturally, he continued.

"I want you to observe this entire world. My life has likely already come to an end."

I nodded, smiling.

Even though this agreement was made so effortlessly, I could feel how heavy and significant it truly was.

I will watch through his eyes. Until the very end of this world…

How beings different from humans interact with this world and change it.

This in no way contradicts my fate—possessing eternal life.

Having attained human wisdom, fully understanding the truth, and choosing to live as a human in his stead…

???

But I am in despair. This feeling of loss…

???

What has been lost? There is no answer to this question…

???

By consuming the forbidden fruit, humanity gained the ability to survive… But in return, we lost something truly important…

???

Everything withers, decays, and eventually sinks into the chair bearing the name "decline"…

???

Is there anything left to do but entrust everything to the new Eve…?

Yui: What…!?

Yui: (Just now… I heard an incredible sound…?)

Yui: What…?

Yui: (It was so close… It sounded like something exploded… but nothing has really changed, right…?)

Yui: Did I imagine it? Eh? A-Ahh…!

Ayato: Su… su… octopus… octopus… legs…

Yui: A-Ayato!? Why are you here? Wait… octopus?!

Yui: Last night, when I went to bed, I was definitely alone… But… what…?

Laito: Heh… You’re such a cutie… Look, here… here’s where Laito-kun’s mouth is♪

Yui: Even you, Laito-kun…

Yui: Besides… it seems like they’re having some kind of strange dream… I don’t even want to think about it…

Kanato: Mmm… Teddy… I can’t eat anymore… mmm…

Yui: Kanato-kun… you too…?

Yui: (Hmm… The moment I thought this dream was strange, suddenly, these three ended up in my bed…)

Yui: (I’ll try to slip away quietly… As long as no one wakes up…)

???

...Stop.

Yui: Eh…!?

Ayato: And where do you think you’re going, leaving me behind? Hey, Pancake.

Yui: Ayato-kun… You… woke up?

Ayato: Woke up? Of course. So come on, answer my question.

Yui: Well… The thing is… my throat is dry, so I… Could you please move aside a little?

Ayato: Nope.

Yui: No, seriously… I just… I really just want to get some water… I swear.

Laito: Oh-oh, how naughty, Bitch-chan…

Yui: Laito-kun…!?

Laito: It’s not you who’s thirsty… it’s us. Hehehe…

Laito: For starters, isn’t it only fair that you quench your master’s thirst first—me? Hmph…

Yui: But… even if you say that…

Kanato: Well, obviously… I thought that much was clear and didn’t need to be said out loud…

Yui: Kanato-kun… even you…!?

Kanato:

It seems you take us for fools… Do you think you can do whatever you want while we’re asleep?

Yui:

I would never… do anything like that…

Kanato:

Just admit it already…!

Yui:

But… even if you demand a confession…

(What a nightmare… No matter how absurd his demands are, I have no choice… But… I can’t just leave things as they are…)

Ayato:

Hey, Kanato, enough already! Move aside. I just woke up, and I’m really thirsty.

Ayato:

Hey, Pancake, give me a drink…

Yui:

(N-not this again…! In the end, it always turns out like this!)

Ayato:

Hehehe… Come on, be a good girl.

Yui:

W-wait… just a minute…!!

Laito:

Well, well, Ayato-kun. Is it really fair to keep everything to yourself? Hmph.

Laito:

Did you forget? Bitch-chan belongs to all of us. We made a gentleman’s agreement, remember?

Ayato:

Idiot. I’m not trying to claim her for myself. I’m just the first one drinking, that’s all.

Laito:

Your tone… I really don’t like it.

Kanato:

Exactly… Please don’t make decisions for me without my consent.

Ayato:

Stop whining… In that case, why don’t we just do it together?!

Laito:

Nfu… Everything is going just as it should. Ah, what a sight—three vampires gathering like a pack…

Laito:

Just imagining this obedient little thing trembling… Ah, it gives me chills of pleasure…!

Yui:

W-wait… Just hold on a moment… This is…!

Ayato:

What’s wrong… Huh? Just admit it—you like it, don’t you? I can see the excitement running through you, even though you try to hide it… Well?

Kanato:

Fufu… Yes, that’s right. I love being treated like a doll, as if I’m part of a game…

Yui:

That’s not true at all…!

Laito:

Ha… Even if you argue with that flushed face, it’s pointless… I’m already at my limit…

Laito:

Bitch-chan, let me savor your delicious blood~ ♪

Yui:

N-not this…!!

Yui:

(I-if this keeps going, these three…!!)

Yui:

W-why does this have to happen now…!!

Yui:

(My body… won’t move…)

Ayato:

Hahaha… Ha… Pancake, your blood… it’s exquisite… This really is the finest quality…

Ayato:

So? Are you ready? I’m going to sink my fangs… deep… so you won’t be able to resist anymore…

Kanato:

Haa… Hey, look at me… Only at me…

Kanato:

Open your eyes wide and witness everything until the very end… Hehe…

Yui:

N-no…!!

???

Stop this right now.

Yui:

Eh—!?

Reiji:

Hmph… It seems you’ve once again decided to feast in such an indecent manner…

Reiji:

Ignorance compounded with ill manners. You all ought to learn some shame.

Yui:

Reiji-san…

Yui:

(Thank goodness… I was saved…!)

Ayato:

Tch… What the hell… Even in moments like this, this uptight glasses-wearing bastard has to interfere!

Reiji:

I don’t believe I could simply stand idly by. And please, stop addressing me with those ridiculous nicknames.

Reiji:

Now then, young lady. Enough standing there with that bewildered look—come here.

Yui:

Ah…!

Reiji:

You demonstrate a complete lack of caution, sleeping so defenselessly. That’s precisely why these fools take every opportunity to invade your bed.

Yui:

I-I’m sorry…

Reiji:

Hah… I wonder if you’re truly remorseful for your actions.

Yui:

(But… I locked the door before going to bed…!)

Reiji:

Come now, stop behaving so carelessly and stand up.

Laito:

Mfu… Now that all the fun has been ruined right in front of me, I don’t feel like doing anything anymore.

Kanato:

Exactly… If I collapse at school, it’ll be your fault… and Reiji’s.

Yui:

No way…!

Reiji:

Kanato, despite your appearance, I know very well that your body is perfectly fine.

Reiji:

Laito! Does your resolve and enthusiasm only surface in the presence of women?

Laito:

Hmph. Well, you hit the nail on the head… Ah…

Laito:

Oh well, nothing to be done. I suppose I’ll just have to endure the boredom of class while pretending to be interested…

Reiji:

You do realize that another suspension from school is unacceptable. Father has made it quite clear—there will be no second chances.

Laito:

Oh dear, how terrifying… Heh…

Ayato:

Tch… Hey, Pancake, if you thought you could escape, you’re gravely mistaken!

Kanato:

Exactly…! I’ll stay mad until I drink your blood… So you’d better prepare yourself!

Yui:

(Sigh…)

Reiji:

A sigh of relief is hardly appropriate. You should reflect on the seriousness of your situation.

Reiji:

Do you understand? Your blood…

Yui:

…!?

Reiji:

It’s more special than anyone else’s…

Yui:

I… I think I understand that, in my own way, but…

Reiji:

If you say you understand, then shouldn’t you be a little more careful? …Even towards me.

Reiji:

…Why won’t you look at me?

Yui:

N-no… It’s just… your face is so close… and…

Reiji:

And… what else…?

Yui:

M-my waist… his hand…

Reiji:

This is so you can better understand your position. Consider it a lesson.

Yui:

(Ugh… Reiji-san… He’s frighteningly calm…)

Yui:

Please… let me go…

Reiji:

If you truly understand, then try to grasp the situation you’re in a little better, alright?

Reiji:

As for you, you’ve dressed yourself up like a neatly wrapped present and now wander around as if you’re just waiting for someone to unwrap you.

Reiji:

You are utterly unbearable. These kinds of reckless actions… Though, I suppose I expected nothing better from my foolish brothers.

Reiji:

Observing your foolish behavior or mimicking you by diving into extremes? No, thank you. I have no need for such things, nor do I find them remotely interesting.

Reiji:

However, if you continue being this defenseless, then even I, no matter how much I try, may not be able to restrain my rational impulses.

Reiji:

See? Like this…

Yui:

Ehh…!?

Yui:

(R-Reiji-san too…?!)

Yui:

N-no… Stop… Stop it!!

Reiji:

You really are foolish.

Yui:

Eh…!? Were you… just mocking me?

Reiji:

Don’t trouble yourself with questions about things that should be obvious.

Reiji:

Are you disappointed? That I didn’t drink your blood…?

Yui:

Not at all…

Reiji:

Now then, put yourself together. The limousine will arrive in twenty minutes.

Yui:

Y-yes… understood…

Reiji:

Oh, right. How is your heart? Everything in order?

Yui:

Eh…!? What…?

Reiji:

Hmph… Well, then…

Yui:

(…For some reason, Reiji-san seemed so mysterious just now…)

Yui:

…I should get ready…

After my father, who served as a priest, was transferred abroad, it has been almost a month since I moved in with the Sakamaki family.

It may sound rude of me to say this, but the people living in this house are… a little strange.

Just earlier, there were three brothers—Ayato-kun, Kanato-kun, and Laito-kun—lying in my bed.

And the one who came in to scold them was the second son, Reiji-san.

Besides them, although I haven’t seen them yet today, the eldest son, Shu-san, and the youngest, Subaru-kun, also live in this house.

It’s hard to believe, but all of them—six brothers—are vampires.

And I was told that my blood and heart are special, so they keep me here as a source of nourishment, preventing me from escaping.

During the day, I attend Rintei Academy, a night school for students with various circumstances. At first glance, it allows me to live a seemingly normal life, but…

Yui:

(Living with vampires and letting them drink my blood… This is anything but normal…)

Yui:

(And yet… Why did Reiji-san suddenly ask about my heart…?)

…I only learned about this after coming here: my heart had actually been transplanted from Cordelia—the mother of three of the brothers, including Ayato-kun.

I don’t know all the details, but they say it was done by a man named Richter, their uncle.

It is said that Cordelia was the daughter of the Demon King and possessed special blood. If her heart remains intact, she can be resurrected.

They say my blood is special because Cordelia’s heart, the heart of the Demon King’s daughter, resides within me…

Yui:

(But isn’t it strange to be worrying about this now? Or is it just my imagination?)

Yui:

Well then, time to go.

Yui:

(If I’m late, Reiji-san will scold me again.)

Yui:

Uh… Did I forget anything? I need my textbooks for Japanese, math, and… English… My dictionary is still at school, isn’t it?

Yui:

Ah, I also need to return a book to the library. I think it’s due today or tomorrow…

Yui:

What…!? T-this…?

???

Tch…

Yui:

Shu… Shu-san…!?

Yui:

(While I was lost in thought… I accidentally stepped on him…!)

Shu:

I was just sleeping… And you decided to wake me up by stepping on my foot?

Yui:

I-I’m so sorry…!!

Yui:

(But still… Sleeping in the hallway…?)

Shu:

Haa… Damn it… I woke up…

Yui:

I’m sorry… really, I’m sorry.

Shu:

Apologies won’t change anything, you know.

Yui:

Then… what should I do…?

Shu:

Ugh… How exhausting… Do I really have to spell it out for you…?

Yui:

Eh…!?

Shu:

Blood. The only thing you can offer me… is your blood, right?

Yui:

I know I stepped on you, but…

Shu:

If you really feel bad about it… Isn’t there something only you can do?

Yui:

Eh… What…!?

Shu:

Say it: "Please, drink my blood." That’s how you can make it up to me.

Yui:

(Ehh, but that’s…! That’s outrageous! What kind of demand is that?!)

Shu:

…Seems like you still don’t get it… You’re too naïve.

Yui:

Ch… …!!

???

Hey, demon.

Shu:

… Huh?

Yui:

…Subaru-kun…?

Subaru:

Stop making a scene in the hallway.

Shu:

Don’t interrupt my breakfast…

Subaru:

Tch, seriously, quit bothering me this early in the morning!

Shu:

…This is exhausting… I’m done. Someone, take him and drag him away.

Subaru:

…Tch, come on.

Yui:

Ah… Y-yeah…

Yui:

(Subaru-kun… Did he just help me?)

Yui:

Ah, um… Subaru-kun… Thank you for what you did earlier…

Subaru:

Hey, you! Quit pushing your luck!

Yui:

…!?

Subaru:

Do you even realize what you’re doing? Stop walking around spreading that tempting scent!

Yui:

But… how am I supposed to control something like that…?

Subaru:

If you enjoy being in these situations, I won’t stop you. But if you don’t—figure out a way to avoid them.

Yui:

…Sorry… Reiji-san just told me the same thing not long ago…

Subaru:

Tch. Then be more careful. You do realize you’re walking around like bait in a cage full of predators, don’t you?

Yui:

Y-yeah… I understand…

Subaru:

Hmph. Don’t apologize to me, it’s annoying. And what are you even doing here dressed like that?

Yui:

Why…?

Subaru:

If you have nowhere else to go, shouldn’t you think about how to survive on your own? You do have a brain, don’t you?

Yui:

I understand…

Yui:

Ah… really…?

Yui:

(I can’t… My thoughts keep returning to what just happened…)

Yui:

(Why am I not running away from here…?)

Yui:

Aaaah…!

Yui:

(What was that…? What just happened…?)

???

You have awakened, Eve.

Yui:

Eh…!? Who are you…?

???

Me? Is it really that important for you to know who I am?

Yui:

Of course, I need to know…!

???

Hahaha. You always strive to uncover the truth.

Yui:

Um… Excuse me, but my name is not Eve.

???

Ideally, I wouldn’t want to resort to force…

???

You’re rushing me too much… I only wanted to rely on your power and wait for everything to ripen naturally.

???

The fruit has rotted and fallen…

???

I had no other choice, so I brought you here.

Yui:

E-eh… well…

???

What do you think causes decay?

Yui:

Eh…?

???

You don’t understand? …Well, no matter.

???

When we meet again, I will teach you the principle of decomposition.

Yui:

…!? Wait… Stop…!!

Yui:

…!?

Kanato:

Oh, it looks like you’ve woken up… Honestly… Don’t scare us like that again.

Yui:

That person… Who was he…?

Laito:

That person? Hmm… I wonder who you mean?

Reiji:

It seems she’s still disoriented from the shock of the incident. Honestly… Such trouble from humans.

Yui:

Incident…? Ah, right… But what exactly… happened to me…?

Shu:

Honestly… You just lost consciousness.

Yui:

Eh…!?

Reiji:

It’s fortunate that nothing worse happened… But the question remains—where did the culprit disappear to?

Reiji:

Seriously… Crashing into our car and then fleeing? How insolent.

Ayato:

Hmm, was this really done by a human?

Reiji:

Our car is driven by a demon from the underworld. So, obviously, it couldn’t have been the work of a mere human.

Laito:

Hmm… So it was someone from the underworld… Could it be the work of one of the dark bloodline dynasties?

Kanato:

Isn’t it obvious?

Subaru:

Hah… Our family has more than enough reasons for people to hate us to death. It’s not surprising, is it?

Shu:

Ugh… This is exhausting. Honestly, I don’t care…

Reiji:

Either way, let’s leave this place for now. We’ll leave the rest to the servants.

Yui:

Are we really… just going to leave like this? Is that okay?

Reiji:

If we stay, things will only become more complicated and troublesome. Or do you wish to remain here alone?

Yui:

N-no…

Yui:

(…What was that just now? Can this really end just like this…?)

Yui:

(Who could have been behind this? And… that felt like a strange dream… Who was he, really…?)

Yui:

(Am I overthinking things… or not…?)

???

…Hmm, quite a lovely neck.

???

Those guys… They realized this was the work of a vampire. Are you sure this won’t be a problem?

???

Hah… Who cares… They’ll figure out soon enough who we really are anyway. So why worry?

???

…So this is Eve… So it really is her.

???

Hmph. She looks like she’s been well tamed… And yet, if she is Eve… It’s almost laughable.

???

Hah, but I kind of like girls like that… She looks like she’ll be fun to play with.

???

If you need a toy, find someone else. This girl belongs to Him. Let’s go.

???

Alright, alright…

???

This girl… She has that same scent… It’s unsettling…

Ayato:

It’s been a while since someone tried to provoke me so directly.

Laito:

Indeed. Honestly, I never thought that guy would force us to act in this world again. Hm-hm.

Yui:

What happened earlier… Is this really okay?

Kanato:

Yes. We’ve been targeted before.

Yui:

Why…?

Laito:

Hmhmm… So many fools. They keep fighting for His place, never stopping even for a second. Can’t they just give up already?

Yui:

(“That person”… They must be talking about their father, right? The politician, Tougo Sakamaki…)

Yui:

(A man whose name even I have heard of… was actually a vampire…)

Yui:

(Maybe there are far more non-humans around than I’ve ever realized…)

???

Ah! There you are!!

Ayato:

Hah? And who the hell are you…?

Reinhard:

Eh? Oh, I’m Reinhard. The school doctor.

Laito:

Mmm… Something doesn’t add up… The school doctor? Funny. Wasn’t it a woman before?

Reinhard:

That lovely lady went on maternity leave. So starting today, I was asked to take over her duties.

Laito:

Hmm… I see… Got it…

Yui:

Excuse me… Doctor, is something wrong…?

Reinhard:

Yes, actually. I need to speak with you.

Ayato:

Hey, you! What’s the deal? First, explain what’s going on. What’s your real intention coming here?

Reinhard:

Ah, sorry, sorry. When I caught a glimpse of her, she didn’t seem to be in the best condition…

Yui:

What? Me? No, no… I’m fine, really…

Laito:

Why not? Let’s go to the infirmary. It’s way better than sitting through these boring classes.

Ayato:

Hey, Laito, where do you think you’re going? You think I’m just going to let you skip class like nothing happened?!

Laito:

You’re so stubborn, Ayato. Relax, I’m not running away. I just decided to skip a few lessons. Haha, isn’t this much more interesting?

Laito:

The gift that Bitch-chan presented to me, I accepted with gratitude. Why don’t you two accept it as well? Haha, wouldn’t it only be fair if everyone got their own little piece of pleasure?

Kanato:

Hmm, there is some truth in Laito’s words… Very well, I agree. Let’s go. Sensei, do you have anything sweet in your infirmary?

Reinhard:

Well, it seems you have quite an unusual pack of knights.

Yui:

U-uh… I suppose…

Yui:

(They’re vampires, so calling them ‘knights’ doesn’t quite fit… to say the least…)

Yui:

Strangely enough, Sensei, you immediately noticed I wasn’t well, even from a distance…

Reinhard:

Hmm… I think it’s because of your aura…

Yui:

Aura!?

Reinhard:

Haha. Yes, I can see such things. But it seems I was mistaken this time.

Yui:

(Aura… Can you really determine someone’s condition with it…?)

Laito:

Hey, Sensei, what color is her aura~? If I had to guess, I’d say a soft pink.

Reinhard:

Haha. Determining a color isn’t easy… But if I had to be precise… it would probably be ash gray.

Yui:

Ash gray…!?

Yui:

Doctor…?

Reinhard:

How are you feeling? Are you sure you're alright?

Yui:

Ah, yes, thanks to you.

Yui:

(Strange… I actually feel even better than before. As if a heavy weight has been lifted, and my body feels so light.)

Reinhard:

I see.

Yui:

…?

Ayato:

Honestly, humans are so fragile. They’re completely useless. Hey, Doc, at least make some tea or something.

Reinhard:

Now, now… Classes are about to start. If you want tea, you’ll have to wait for another time.

Ayato:

What?! Are you serious?

Laito:

Mmm… You know, I wouldn’t mind lounging on this bed a little longer. Bitch-chan, why are you just standing there? Come on, climb in. I promise it’ll be fun~

Yui:

A-Ah! I’m going to class!

Kanato:

No, I’m not going. Right, Teddy?

Reinhard:

Come now, don’t be difficult. Here, have a candy.

Kanato:

Hmph. Do you think a sweet will appease me? How naïve… But, I suppose I’ll take it.

Yui:

Thank you, Doctor.

Reinhard:

No need to thank me. If you ever have any troubles, come to me anytime.

Yui:

Yes!

Yui:

(He’s so considerate… He immediately noticed I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to help. After all, he is a doctor…)

Yui:

(There’s always something strange happening around me… And I feel like I’m starting to get caught up in it myself…)

Reinhard:

………

Laito:

You know… I think there’s something off about this doctor. Don’t you find him… a little suspicious?

Yui:

Eh?

Ayato:

Hmm, yeah… There’s a seriously predatory scent around him.

Yui:

Um… really? Everything seems normal to me… Though, after everything that’s happened… maybe you’re just overthinking it.

Kanato:

That’s not what we mean at all!!

Yui:

…!?

Kanato:

That man… he is absolutely interested in you.

Yui:

E-eh!?

Laito:

Nfu… So you noticed too, Kanato-kun? See! I told you he was suspicious.

Yui:

No, that’s not true at all…! He’s the school doctor—his job is to look after the students’ health. I’m sure he’s just being considerate.

Ayato:

Hah, you sure are quick for a pathetic little blood bag, aren’t you?

Yui:

… … …

Yui:

(I really don’t like this… If I get stuck here, this could turn into a serious problem…)

Yui:

Hey, we’re about to be late for class! Let’s just go already!

Ayato:

Hey! Wait!

Yui:

(If I keep hanging around with them, they’ll just drain me dry! How am I supposed to have enough blood for all this?!)

Yui:

Sigh… I feel even more exhausted than usual today.

[Second Scene]

Schoolgirl A:

Oh, Komori-san, sorry… Can I ask you for a favor?

Yui:

What is it?

Schoolgirl A:

I need to go home urgently. Could you cover my cleaning duty?

Yui:

Yes, of course.

Schoolgirl A:

Really?! You’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much!

Yui:

(Alright… Since the limousine broke down today, it looks like no one’s coming to pick me up… Well, I’ll just finish cleaning up and head home!)

Yui:

Phew… There, all done.

Yui:

(By the way… Ayato-kun and the others… I wonder where they went?)

Yui:

(Strange… They usually stay in class until someone comes to get them… But today, no one’s here.)

Yui:

(Well, maybe they’ll be back soon. I’ll just take out the trash in the meantime.)

Yui:

Alright, all done…

???

Is livestock really allowed to wander around on its own, away from its master?

Yui:

Eh?

Yui:

(Who is that? I’ve never seen him before… Maybe he’s a senior student?)

???

“What?” Are you mocking me?!

Yui:

A-ah! What are you—!?

???

I’ve waited so long… And now, we can finally talk… Right, Eve?

Yui:

Eve!?

Yui:

(Wait… In that strange dream… They also called me “Eve”…)

???

Hey, hey, why so scared?~ Come on, isn’t this wonderful? Let’s be friends, my sweet maso-kitty~ ♪

Yui:

(Maso-kitty…!?)

Yui:

I can’t just become friends with a complete stranger. Especially when he calls me… something so weird…

Yui:

Besides, my name isn’t Eve. You must be mistaken.

???

Stop.

Yui:

A-Ahh…!! S-stop! Let me go!

???

Tch…! I told you to behave…! Ugh… Worthless swine…!

Yui:

!?

Yui:

H-his eyes…!?

???

………..

Yui:

W-what…!?

Yui:

W-who is this person…? Why did he suddenly grab my chin…?

???

Hey, Yuma… Hold her. This livestock… It seems she’s completely forgotten her place. If we leave her be, she’ll start scratching at her own master.

???

Yeah, got it.

???

……

Yui:

Please, let me go. Don’t bring your face so close to mine…

???

Hmph… Naïve, but with a bit of a bite. Well, I fear things won’t be easy for you from now on.

Yui:

“From now on”…? Who even are you people!?

Ruki:

Hmph, I suppose I haven’t introduced myself yet. I am Ruki… Ruki Mukami.

Ruki:

And the one holding you so tightly right now…

Yuma:

Yuma. (Swine.)

Kou:

I’m Kou! Nice to meet you!

Azusa:

Azusa… Haa… For some reason, my heart is still pounding so fast.

Yui:

Um… So… do you want something from me?

Kou:

Hahaha. We just transferred to this school today, you know.

Yui:

Transferred…!? But what does that have to do with me?

Ruki:

Hmph… Quite arrogant of you. You don’t seem to know how to properly speak to those above you.

Yui:

………!?

Ruki:

Don’t look away. If you have the nerve to act so insolent, then have the courage to look me in the eyes as well.

Yui:

……..

???

What are you idiots doing over there?

Yui:

Shu-san!?

Shu:

Haa… What a mess I’ve walked into…

Shu:

If this drags on any longer, it’ll just get even more annoying. Hey, why don’t you just let her go already?

Ruki:

Hmph… So this is the eldest of the Sakamaki family. Hey, Yuma.

Yuma:

Tch! Fine, fine, I got it! I’ll let her go. Now get lost already!

Yui:

…!?

Shu:

………

Shu:

(That guy…? No, it can’t be. I must be mistaken.)

Yui:

Shu-san!

Shu:

I figured you were just wandering around aimlessly. Seriously. Could you stop causing me extra trouble?

Yui:

S-sorry…

Reiji:

What is all this commotion? Hmph? Oh… It’s you.

Ruki:

Time to move. Everyone, let’s go.

Azusa:

Eve… Until next time… Let’s play again… alright…?

[Third Scene]

Kou:

— Byeee-byeee! ♪

Yuma:

Tch, nothing’s going as planned. Damn it, not again.

Subaru:

Hey, what the hell just happened here?!

Yui:

! Subaru-kun!

Yui:

Even I don’t really understand what that was. They suddenly approached me, acting as if they’d mistaken me for someone else.

Reiji:

…………

Subaru:

Damn it.

Laito:

Oh my, what’s with this strange atmosphere? You all look so tense.

Ayato:

I just passed by some shady-looking guys… Hm? Don’t tell me you’re one of them too?

Yui:

It’s fine, Shu-san came, and now I’m safe.

Shu:

I didn’t really do anything.

Ayato:

Next time I see them, I’ll grind them into dust. Let’s see if they dare to show their faces again.

Kanato:

Hmph… I can still smell them.

Subaru:

Tch… Damn it.

Reiji:

Hmph. I see…

Yui:

Reiji-san?

Reiji:

Now that everyone’s here, we should head home. The car is already waiting.

Yui:

They fixed the limousine?

Reiji:

No, I arranged for a different vehicle.

Laito:

— Heh~. Now the seat next to my lovely Bitch-chan is mine for sure… Ohoho~

Reiji:

Does it really matter? Just get in the car already so we can leave.

Yui:

Wait! What about my things?

Reiji:

The servants will take care of that. Stop wasting time and move faster!

Yui:

Alright.

Yui:

(What was that…? Who were those people?)

Yui:

(I wonder… Is there someone out there who looks exactly like me, but with the name Eve? How strange…)

Yui:

(But despite that, there was a strange certainty in their words, as if they had proof. Something isn’t right here.)

Yui:

(That man from my dream… Could he be connected to all of this? But how?)

Subaru:

That incident at the school entrance…

Shu:

Huh?

Subaru:

That was their doing, wasn’t it?

Kanato:

It seems so. The scent… It was overwhelming.

Ayato:

Yeah. It reeked, absolutely disgusting.

Yui:

A scent? But… I didn’t notice anything.

Laito:

Bitch-chan, playing dumb is cute and all, but there’s a limit. Otherwise, I might just have to punish you. Hehe, though that’s not the scent we’re talking about—just in case you misunderstood.

Laito:

Hmm… It doesn’t seem like they were pureblood vampires. Interesting… then who could they be?

Yui:

Those people… were vampires?!

Reiji:

Only a careless fool like you wouldn’t have noticed. Honestly. I warned you to be more cautious!

Shu:

Are those guys going to be attending our school now too?

Yui:

They said they transferred.

Shu:

Hmph. Looks like you’ve caught their attention.

Laito:

Hm-hm. Shu, you’re being unusually calm today, almost serene. Could it be that you’re jealous? Hehe~

Shu:

Spring lethargy. I’m in a terrible mood, and your endless chatter has completely ruined my music.

Shu:

And you mentioned jealousy? That alone says everything about you… You pseudo-pervert.

Laito:

Tired of living?

Shu:

Hmph. Does it matter?

Yui:

(Why is everyone so tense? They said this wasn’t the first time, but… Being hunted doesn’t seem like a very enjoyable experience.)

Yui:

(I hope nothing happens, but for some reason, I can’t shake this uneasy feeling.)

Yui:

(They didn’t approach me randomly. Maybe their real goal is to gain attention at Ryoutei Academy.)

Yui:

(Why do they keep calling me “Eve”? I don’t understand, but it’s unsettling…)

Yui:

Eh?

Yui:

(Where… where am I?)

???

Ah… We meet again.

Yui:

You…?

???

Let me cast a spell on you.

???

If this doesn’t work, then the entire purpose of the reset will be lost.

Yui:

…?

???

Daughter of the Demon Lord himself, I have come for you.

Yui:

M-my… heart…

???

If you remain here, the garden will begin to rot again… Now, come to me.

Yui:

…!?

Yui:

(Fangs… in my neck…?)

Yui:

W-what are you… planning to do?

???

Don’t be afraid. Now, close your eyes.

???

What I am doing has a purpose. Be at peace.

???

Mmm… Hm…

Yui:

(He’s… drinking my blood?)

Yui:

N-no, stop…

???

Mmm… Haa…

Yui:

C…

Yui:

(I… I’m losing strength. What’s happening to me? It feels like I’m dying…)

???

That’s enough.

Yui:

…!?

???

Hmph… It seems it was successful.

Yui:

What…?

???

Curious Eve. But shouldn’t you fear, even a little, what lies beyond the boundaries of your understanding?

???

Now it is complete, Eve. You have become what you were meant to be. Everyone is waiting for you.

Yui:

What was that…?

???

Hehe… Everything will become clear in time. There’s no need to rush.

Yui:

W-wait…!

Yui:

— You!?

[elf-osamu]

“YOUR LAST MEMORY OF ME”

[ masterlist ] [ reblogs are very appreciated ]

angst, hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, romantic relationship, jing yuan x gn!reader

warning(s) : major character death, the concept of death is discussed, implied reference for the high cloud quintet lore !!!!, blood, injuries, depictions of violence !!!!

word count : 2517 words

“i think i got too many memories getting in the way of me; you only get what you grieve; the only thing that’s ever stopping me is me; i testify if i die in my sleep, then know that my life was a killer dream; and all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died” — song: stay frosty royal milk tea by fall out boy

a/n: i’ve almost cried while writing this. as a jing yuan lover, i’m terribly sorry (it will happen again).

to be part of a long life species isn’t as easy as mortals make it to be. since their lives are nothing but a fleeting moment which will be soon forgotten, they tend to hope for a longer time to accomplish their goals, rushing every task to meet the temporary relief that it brings — a sweet feeling which one could indulge themself in, but only for a brief moment. as a consequence of this, they’re quite envious of those who don’t have to worry about such matters: those people can enjoy life to the fullest and simultaneously take things at a slow pace, savoring each second of their existence without being overwhelmed by their imminent end; new experiences are always near the corner of their days, quietly waiting for the perfect time to appear and give opportunities of every kind; the weight of death isn’t a matter to reflect upon, since it’s something far too distant to be frightened by it.

a smile was something that jing yuan hardly got to see on that face he had profoundly grown fond of — yours. one could have defined it as an almost imperceptible change, but the way your lips slightly curved in response of his affirmations hadn’t ever escaped his attentive eyes. his life had been consistent for many years, still as a lake in a flawlessly sunny day, with his usual duties and habits which never seemed to change despite the passage of time. however now he had gotten used to your presence and he could have never substituted it. those lips he loved to touch with his, those hands he relished with his when he was looking for reassurance, those eyes he would have treasured with his life if they had been gems — you. jing yuan would have never gotten tired of you.

this is what short life species harshly tell themselves and others — they can’t but concentrate on what they don’t possess, on what their hands will never reach, on what they will never be able to accomplish. nevertheless, said behavior is rather commonly found in the majority of human beings with no distinctions made; envy is a comprehensibile emotion, but when used inappropriately it can develop in resentment. the inherent desire of attaining what we’ve wished for isn’t possible at all times — but we continue on our path forward, often stumbling along the way when it gets too difficult to move on.

the general’s soul wasn’t unblemished as many thought: you had gotten the chance to meet that part of him he tried to hide under a seemingly exemplery mask of polite yet playful remarks. you had tended to his injuries, taking care of his body while he narrated the story of some of his scars; you had listened to his usually unspoken worries, when the role he had to play for the majority of his life momentarily ended and he finally showed you that he was just a human being like any other — someone who had done both outstanding and terrible things. “i… i apologize for not being the hero you’ve heard of”, he had muttered the rare times he had allowed himself to cry; it had been too long ago since the last time he had opened up to someone in such a vulnerable way.

long life species know this too well: between the scars of their past and the hopes for their future, it isn’t rare to find people who are lost in their journey, surrounded by painful memories and feelings of desperation. to forget what one’s forced to remember can make themself cling to the old days and refuse to give a glance to the other side.

you were aware of jing yuan’s foibles and past mistakes — how could you have not? — but those things had never stopped you from loving him. as you were there to accept him for who he was, you could proudly say he did the same for you; patience and consideration were only a few of his characteristics, but they were greatly helpful when you were going through difficult times. jing yuan wouldn’t have ever judged your fears and thoughts: he would have sat next to you, grounding your mind from the stress that life could give you, and reminded you of his unfeigned adoration towards your being. you both had found comfort and solace with each other.

the general of the cloud knights of the xianzhou luofu, jing yuan, had lived for too many centuries to be truly able to count them. he was acclaimed by many people and frowned upon by others — but nobody could have never doubt his dexterity and strength when it came to swordsmanship: his exceptional abilities had been of considerable effectiveness in battles and, simultaneously, his carefulness and diplomacy couldn’t be disregarded in the slightest, since they kept the law and order in his nation.

death passively follows its natural course when the right time is known — it’s a neutral state which can’t be converted by the human mind, something… irreversible; many have tried to change this fact and many have failed. each stage of life is meaningful, thus to accept what’s going to happen someday is the wisest and least painful choice, though it has to be recognized how it can still be a tough journey. his loved companions, his long-lasting enemies, everybody he knew… he had lost them, either because of demise or a change of paths.

during his life, jing yuan had collided with friends, foes and even with himself — bonds were broken, rancour was deepened, distress was reinforced: all the experiences and emotions he had been carrying in his heart for centuries seemed to be never-ending. he did his best to hide his damaged self through loads of work and too many hours of sleep; after all he was one of the arbiter-generals — if he couldn’t do his job, who could have?

he was a symbol of hope: he was someone to use as a role model and as a pillar for anyone who was in need of support and protection — failure had never been an option for those of such great importance.

he just had to resist a little longer… then everything else would have ended and peace would have prospered, as it always did.

clashes of swords and polearms reverberated through the battlefield, they were the only sounds which could be heard alongside the warriors’ screams. destruction and ruination harshly painted the surroundings, scarring the ground where nature once flourished, while combatants fell and took their last breath.

an invasion of that magnitude hadn’t been on the xianzhou luofu for quite some time and nobody had been prepared for it; unexpected encounters were the most dangerous and tiring ones.

you were a brave and capable soldier — your technique wasn’t flawless, but your determination made up for the few careless mistakes you committed while fighting; jing yuan was aware of that, but his chest still hurt whenever he knew you were battling against his enemies. as much as he believed you could successfully take care of your well-being in dire situations, he had to fight the urge to be near you when you risked your life; said feeling was reciprocated though, since the general had caught a glimpse of your figure finishing off an enemy who had tried to attack him behind his back while he was busy with three other opponents. you had flashed a smile at your lover before going into battle again.

it was a tough confront between distinct factions, but hope had come to the surface again once you had taken a glance at how many enemies were still standing: only a few were alive and their counterattacks were growing more haphazard by the second — they hadn’t expected to fall behind in battle. the rush of adrenaline you felt before accompanied your weapon through taking the life of your opponents without backing away.

jing yuan had just fought against a few people when he saw a group of his opposite faction go near you; they were too many to be dealt at the same time, too many even for someone as experienced as him — so he couldn’t let them lift a finger on your body, it was a risk too huge to be taken so carelessly.

he rapidly moved to get to your side — you were rather distant from him but, if he had screamed, you would have been distracted and you would have gotten severe injuries… or even worse. his mind was spiralling while the general was trying to calm himself down and choose the best option available to keep yourself safe but, when he saw a spear coming too near your figure, his body moved on its own: he rushed towards you and, without giving you the time to react, he took what once was your place.

time seemed to stop for a moment as he tasted the flavour of pain that came from the deep skin tear on his chest: gushes of blood brutally tinted his armor and all of a sudden his face lost the color it had just a moment before.

you couldn’t feel anything at first, your brain had registered only a part of what had occurred. then, however, you realized what you had witnessed when you watched jing yuan’s body fall on the ground.

everything had happened in a few seconds, but it felt like an unceasing event: something atrocious was taking place, something you just wished to ignore and forget… but you couldn’t allow yourself to do that.

therefore, a wave of rage hit you: you didn’t waste time to slaughter the ones who attacked the man you loved; when anyone tried to come near you, your blade was swift enough to promptly eliminate them and destroy anything that crossed its path, wounding whoever couldn’t understand the weight of the situation. it had been a while since you felt an emotion in such an intense and uncontrolled way, you looked feverish from how much strength you were using.

anger’s origin was different for everyone — yours was because of despondency.

you were moving too fast to process what was happening: the only clear thing your blurry vision could notice was the carmine blood that colored the soil and people’s armors, especially your own. you couldn’t feel the pain derived from your injuries, your clouded mind wasn’t able to process your physical state.

wrath was embracing you in its strong grip, the one thing that heartened you when you would have preferred to hide away in your own solitude.

as the only opponents left decided to retreat from the battle, you tossed your weapon to the side and fell on your knees; you were exhausted from your sudden outburst, your limbs were becoming numb and your head was spinning.

the familiar sound of your name, however, kept you grounded, making you look at the white-haired man who was laying down on the turf.

sweat and blood littered his scarred skin, a look you had gotten to know through the years you had spent with him. but this time was like no other.

you immediately sat by his side and forced yourself to act like you had everything under control, while trying to disregard the spear that had pierced his body: your hands slightly pressed near the major wound on his chest, clinging to the last hope of keeping more blood from coming out.

“my time… has come, then?” he murmured, his lips were moving slowly, too slowly, though his voice was calm as the usual; you would have said he wasn’t feeling much pain, if you didn’t know him that well.

a grin was plastered on his face and it only made you sadder to see him keep his mask even on that unpleasant occasion.

“don’t you dare say that, jing yuan. there’s still time, we can make someone look for a doctor, we… you can resist for a few minutes until then!”, you sounded — you were — desperate. “everything is going to work out in the end, isn’t it?”.

you were trying your best to pay no attention to your thoughts: there was no doubt that his injury was fatal, he already had lost too much blood to return back to his usual life and be saved. you would have switched places in a heartbeat if you were given the opportunity to do so, you would have given anything to keep him alive; jing yuan had understood it since the first day your love for him had been known.

his eyes were fixated on your face, as if they were trying to soothe your distressed mind. with the last remaining ounce of strength, he rested one of his hands on yours and deepened his smile.

he called out your name again. “do you know how much i care about you?”.

if the situation were different, you would have punched him; tears began to fall down on your cheeks; you would have liked to scream and say he wouldn’t have died in that way, but you managed to make your lips curve into a faux grin; if you had to smile, you would have done it for him.

“yes, love. i do know it all too well”, you whispered, your gaze was focused only on his face and the flutter of his eyelashes.

jing yuan slowly nodded and mumbled “good”: his heart could have ultimately rested now that he had your confirmation.

he looked at the gray sky, silently saying his goodbyes to the world around him. “if there’s anything beyond this life… i hope i’ll get the chance to… to meet my friends… and lost companions there…”. you felt his fingers caress yours in a reassuring manner, a habit of his the general of the luofu couldn’t abandon even in death. “perhaps we are going… to talk again”.

you inclined your head, there was nothing else you could do.

his deep voice, the white cascade of his long hair, those golden eyes that held many memories, the strategies he followed while playing chess, his comforting laugh, every characteristic of his — you would have never forgotten any of them.

“i feel… so light…” he muttered as he closed his eyes, inhaling air for the last time.

an uncontrollable sob broke out from your throat as you bended over and hugged his cold body close to your chest, your forehead was against his.

pain had been a part of jing yuan’s life since he was a child and it ushered him also to his demise, as a loyal intimate who had never left his side.

you held back your tears when a question made its way into your head: would he have found solace now that everything was over? you shivered and hoped he could finally rest, but your heart wouldn’t have been the same ever again.

the peace you had found within his presence had mercilessly been broken and nothing could have ever repaired it.

[ do not copy, translate, repost, etc. | by @ elf-osamu ]

[ tag list — @bladesmuse ]

[digital999placebo]

back on my usual shit. Tormenting the one I love. A lidl fanfic snippet beneath cut hehehe (a convo between Gilbert and Roderich on the topic of Germany)

[Somewhere in Continental Europe, 1870]

“You can’t be serious about raising him on your own,” Roderich spits acid, “You have no experience or qualifications outside of war, let me do it.”

“If I can manage an army of men, I believe I’m capable of caring for one child.”

“Children are not trained men, Gilbert.”

“You’re the last person I want to be lectured by on this,” Gilbert cuts in and adjusts his position in the chair. “I mean no offence, Roderich, but I rather have Feliciano beneath me than beside me.”

Roderich makes a strangled sound and opens his mouth to retort that Feliciano is perfectly well-adjusted when Gilbert continues.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t doubt your efficiency in raising regular children. You could turn a stuttering fool into a credentialed politician and a tone-deaf cripple to the most renowned pianist. You and your country have a culture that mine does not. Your understanding of music is something I couldn’t even dream of achieving, but what you lack is the ability to admire a well-oiled machine. I want Ludwig to not only be a force to be reckoned with within the political spectrum, I also want him unbeatable on the field. I want people terrified at the mere mention he’s coming… And that is nothing you can provide.”

Roderich nearly laughs at Gilbert’s delusion. The nation before him couldn’t seriously believe that Ludwig, a wiry and mutilated little thing, a walking blasphemy against God and Mother Nature herself, covered in sutures and wrapped in bandages that needed to be changed daily, was going to become anything but what he was created of, dead tissue. He searches Gilbert’s face for a trace of self-awareness and is horrified when he doesn’t find it.

“That– Ludwig won’t even survive that long,” Roderich manages to get out, quiet, angry, and small. He can’t help how his voice shakes and rises. He’s furious, but can’t say why, perhaps because he feels bad for the little thing Gilbert has created, so frail yet already carrying the weight of Gilbert’s expectations, he’s angry because he knows better and he doesn’t know how to make Gilbert understand that. “He’s blind and mute; incapable of even feeding or relieving himself despite his age. You haven’t created a machine, you haven’t even created a person, you’ve created a thing whose only purpose is to suffer a slow death.”

Gilbert’s mouth tightens and he drums an impatient finger against the chair’s armrest, “You’re underestimating him.”

“I’m realistic, one of us has to be. That thing is suffering every day,” Roderich begs. “It’s sadistic.”

Gilbert hits the armrest with his fist and Roderich reels back.

“Don’t call him that! He’s not a thing, he’s the future of Europe,” Gilbert sneers at him, all composure finally lost, “You sit here and speak as though he were to die any day now, yet you beg me to resign him to your care?” –Gilbert wrinkles his nose in disdain– “I can see why Feliciano turned out the way he did, you have no perseverance, no dignity or strength, giving Ludwig to you would be to cut his throat. You’ve never struggled in a way that matters, nothing worth having is easily attainable. Ludwig will be great.”

Roderich trembles with withheld fury and he curls his lips to match Gilbert’s crude sneer.

“Fine,” he spits, “If that thing makes it at all.”

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Welcome To New York

Chapter Two of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley 'Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: It's been seven years since you left Pigeon Creek, Alabama. Seven long, arduous years. Just when everything seems to be moving in the right direction, a seemingly happy event makes you remember how closely the ties bind you to Pigeon Creek.

Themes: angst, love, smut, attraction

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3170

A/N: Here we go with Chapter two! It's finally time to see who Linley is as an adult and explore a little bit of her life in New York. This is also the chapter where we meet her beau! I hope you love it!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

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In the seven years since you left Pigeon Creek in the rear view mirror, your life has changed by leaps and bounds. You're not sure when your small hometown went from feeling like your whole world to not being enough. You've always had dreams, and you've always been opinionated. But as you grew up, your dreams and Jake were still the two most important things in your life.

At least, that is, until one dumb decision changed your entire life and ended up losing you your best friend and first love all in one fell swoop. So you left Pigeon Creek and you left Jake behind, and moved to New York City. You lost yourself in your career, working your butt off to become a fashion designer. It’s been a long, hard road to get to where you are now, but you can’t say you regret it.

You wake up the night before your first big debut show at New York Fashion Week, dreaming of the day you and Jake were struck by lightning. You're face down on your workbench and for one short moment, you're not quite sure where you are. But that feeling fades when you see lightning through the stained glass window of the warehouse you and your team are working out of.

"Oh my god." You gather a couple of designs off of your desk before walking up to the floor, checking them for splotches of drool as you go. Your team is clustered around models, carefully measuring and finishing garments to make sure each fits their model to perfection.

"How come y'all let me sleep?" Even after seven years, you haven't been able to lose your Alabama accent. A part of you hopes you never do.

"It was only five minutes. Did you know your accent gets thicker when you're sleeping?" You roll your eyes before comparing the design in front of you to the one on the paper. You make one final adjustment to the cloth on the mannequin before accepting a cup of coffee from your assistant. With coffee in your veins, everything feels better.

"They destroyed Badgley Mischka, did you see, Linley?" You nod ruefully, sure to your bones that the same could happen to you.

As your team laughs, you can't help interjecting. "Yeah, yeah. Y'all are laughing now, but tomorrow that could be us!"

Your words are just enough to have your team erupting into activity again. You forget all about your dream, attention wholly held by the fabric which has the ability to control your entire future. If you send fervent prayers out to the Fashion Gods, Saint Laurent, Gucci and Karl Lagerfeld, your team doesn’t judge you for it. They’re banking on this collection just as much as you are. It's just after dawn when you and your team leave the warehouse. You're exhausted and run off of your feet, but you're filled with contentment at the same time. For better or for worse you’ve made something with your own two hands, a collection from which you adore every single piece. As you walk home, you're filled with a quiet confidence - being a successful fashion designer feels so attainable right now. The city is as quiet as you've ever heard it and the shops are just opening up their shutters as you walk down the street. You can actually do this! 

When you finally, finally get home, your feet are dragging. You only have the time for a quick catnap before you have to head downtown again to complete your final prep for the fashion show. Your apartment is quiet, lit only by the weak light of the rising sun peeking through your gauzy white curtains. You throw the deadbolt home and turn around, only to see flower petals strewn across the pale carpet. Your entire apartment is filled with the scent of freshly bloomed roses.

A riotous wash of colors greets you as you toe off your heels and step onto the plush cream carpet, following the trail of petals into your living room. Vase after vase of bright blooms line the tables and shelves in your living room, the delicate scent lifting your mood instantly. There's only one person who could do this for you.

Bradley Bradshaw. 

When you'd moved to New Y0rk, you'd promised yourself you wouldn't fall in love again - or at least that you wouldn't actively go looking for it. The girl you were, that heartbroken worn creature, you vowed to wipe her out of existence. So you adopted the surname Floyd along with a backstory to match and became a Linley your own father wouldn't recognize. You hadn't expected to fall in love with the New York Secretary of Housing. But under your mentor, you ran in posh circles, even before you got the chance to design your own line for fashion week, and you and Bradley had hit it off.

It hasn’t been a whirlwind romance, at least not in the conventional sense. That wasn’t Bradley’s fault either. Bradley is easy to love. It just took you a while for your brain to convince your heart that you could love him. A part of you still does a double-take when he does things like this for you. You’re still not sure you deserve the pampering, forget the vacations or the parties that you’ve been attending on his arm. It’s good for your reputation, less so for his. After all, the man once known as Rooster in the press for some less than clothed paparazzi pictures on vacation had a reputation for dating models before you.

The red light on your answering machine is blinking and you hit the button to hear what messages you have. It's Bradley's voice you hear, leaving a voicemail so romantic that were you a different, less heart-sore girl, you would have swooned on the spot. As it is, you have to lock your knees, you’re so sure they’re going to give out on  you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice makes you smile giddily as you stand in your flower festooned living room. "Good Morning. There's a rose for every moment I thought of you last night. I know the likelihood that you came home last night was slim to none, so I wanted to do something to brighten your day.  I also wanted to wish you good luck before the show today. It's going to be a hit and I can't wait to see what your gorgeous brain came up with. I love you! Bye sweetheart!"

When a man does things like this for you, how could you not love him?

Mid-morning finds you backstage running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You're so nervous even your nerves have nerves. This fashion show is either going to be a success or the biggest disaster you've ever seen. You've solved about a million disasters, including a blouse that should be purple but is a mauve instead - the yellow spotlight should fix that - when you see Bradley on a video feed of the milling crowd.

He always looks so good, so put together. He's wearing a crisp electric blue suit with a Hawaiian shirt underneath it. Were it anyone else, the ensemble would look garish, but on Bradley, it looks amazing. The mustache and Hawaiian shirt are staples in New York politics at the moment. They're both eye-catching traits that Bradley's dad always, always wore when he was mayor before his death and it's a trend Bradley continued once he became Housing Secretary. Of course, just like his dad, he's also the belle of the press.

"Secretary Bradshaw! Can we ask you a couple of questions? Are you excited about the show?" Your grin is smug and a little unbelieving as you watch him schmooze the press, dropping tidbits about how you're going to knock this line out of the park.

"Please tell me he has a flaw." That sardonic, sarcastic voice? That's Natasha Trace. Both of you had come up under the same mentor, her as a model and you as a designer. She's the closest thing you have to a best friend in New York. 

"He asked to take me to Ireland over the holidays." You can't wait! You've never left the country before.

"Oh, honey, he's going to ask you to do a lot more than go to Ireland with him." She's nudging you even as the other models line up behind her.

"We'll see." You face the models. "We're going to be late! Alright ladies! It's go time!"

It feels like a dream when the curtains come down and the standing ovation rings through the hall. You take a few minutes to clear away your mascara tear trails and to re-apply your lipstick before heading into the crowd. You're immediately mobbed by your friends and industry contacts.

When you see Bradley standing behind the photographer taking pictures of you and your models, Tash included, you're immediately moving through the crowd and launching yourself into his arms.

"Bradley!" He's smiling that grin you love as he wraps you up tight in his arms. The scent of his cologne surrounds you as he holds you tight, holding you up before he lets you drop back onto your feet. 

"Oh sweetheart, congratulations!" You can't hide your ecstatic grin as you stay in his arms.

"Those flowers, Bradley? They were absolutely gorgeous! How did you do it?" You're a little giddy and out of breath just at the sight of his smiling face.

"I just wanted today to be perfect for you, sweetheart." You smile up at him in thanks before pulling away, just a little, your hands still in his own.

"So? What did you think? Do you think the critics will like it?" You can't hide the doubt in your tone.

"Oh, Lin! They're critics. They even hate themselves." His words should comfort you, right? Instead it feels like Bradley's not taking your concerns seriously. But you chuckle it off.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Bradshaw! I wasn't born with thick skin like you." You're grinning just a little as he smiles sunnily at you.

"That's one of the many reasons why I love you, Sweetheart." His hands cup your face as you rise on your tiptoes to peck him chastely. Of course, right as you're about to pull Bradley over to introduce him to the girls, he's saying his goodbyes.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I've got a meeting across town. But I'll see you tonight, yeah?" At your confused look he continues. "You remember, we have that thing at Lincoln Center?"

That's when you remember, the thought hitting you like a sack of bricks and thoroughly deflating your happy little hot air balloon.

"Oh, right!" You smile wryly at him. "The fundraiser! For your mom! That's tonight."

"I'm afraid so. I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. I love you! Congratulations!" You wish you could say that this is the first time Bradley's had to dip out early for a meeting, but you would be wrong.

You can't help but dwell on it when James, Bradley's personal chauffeur picks you up to take you to the fundraiser a few hours later. Is this what life is going to be like? Feeling like you're never at the top of his mind? Never his number one priority? Sure you get to enjoy perks like chauffeured cars and going to fundraisers and galas, wearing designer brands and diamonds on your neck, ears, and wrists, but are those perks worth never being his top priority? You're jerked out of your thoughts when the car stops and James pulls the divider down.

"His meeting's running a little late. But Mr. Bradshaw wanted me to take you inside so you wouldn't have to wait in the car."

"Where are we?" You don't get an answer to your question. James leads you through a side doorway and a series of plain white-walled hallways.

"He shouldn't be too long, miss. Just go through here." If you didn't trust him with your life and know that Bradley did the same, you'd be a little worried.

There's another suited man waiting at an open door. "Won't you come in, Miss Floyd?"

You walk past his outstretched arm into another bare hallway. But this one has Bradley on the other end of it.

"So, have you decided?" As happy as you are to see him, you can't help feeling just the slightest bit of whiplash.

"About Ireland, sweetheart. Just you and me and a couple hundred of our closest friends and family." You feel even more confused now than you did earlier.

"A couple hundred - Bradley what's going on?" The entire time he's been confusing you, he's led you into a cavernous room.

At a signal you can't see, the lights flicker on, one by one, illuminating shelf after shelf of sparkling jewels. Pretty stacks of robin's egg blue boxes are artistically arrayed to the sides, all bearing the mark of Tiffany and Co.

"Oh. My. God." Your words are a little strangled as you take in the plethora of shiny gems.

And then he gets to his knee right in front of you.

"Linley Floyd. Will you marry me?" Your brian short circuits at his words, an irrational sense of panic clouding your vision.

"A-are you sure? Are you really sure you want to marry me? We've only been dating for eight months!" You're babbling, trying desperately to make sure he's making the right decision while making sure you're making the right decision.

"Of course I'm sure, sweetheart. You know me. I don't make rash decisions. And I don't ask questions I'm not sure of the answer to. So at the risk of being rejected twice, I'll ask you again. Will you marry me?" 

This time, your mouth kicks in before your brian does. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" You're both smiling and laughing as he twirls you around in a circle.

"So pick one." There’s laughter in his eyes as he follows behind you as you try on ring after ring, all in your size. Each is beautiful, but you know each is also more expensive, costing more money than you’ve ever seen, more money than you’re sure you’ll ever see. It’s almost a relief when you pick the simplest one, a band with a singular clear cut stone embedded in it. But your left hand feels heavy in the car afterwards as James drives you and Bradley to the Lincoln Center. 

You can’t name the feeling in you right now. You should be feeling happy and excited. A part of you is giddy and ebullient. But more than that, you’re confused. But you can’t let Bradley see how you feel. So you kiss him softly, relishing in the feeling of his mustache across your lips. As you sink into the kisses, your earlier exhaustion dissipates like champagne bubbles. The divider is up and it feels like you and Bradley are the only people in the entire universe that matter right now.

"I've been planning this for a long time, sweetheart. I knew your show would be great and it'll be great to tell the whole world at the fundraiser tonight, right?" Your stomach lurches a little at the thought.

"I can't wait to see my mom's face when I tell her that we're engaged! Let's call your dad, sweetheart!"

You shock yourself with how fast you snatch the phone out of his hand - he isn’t able to type in more than a single digit.

"No!" You chuckle a little sheepishly. " I mean, um. I haven't seen my dad since I left Alabama. I really should tell him in person. He raised me all by himself and he deserves to hear it from me in person. Please?" You pull out your biggest, best puppy eyes and pout just a little. As always, it works.

"Of course, sweetheart." His sigh is fond as he takes the phone back. "I love that you're that close to your dad."

"Um.. there's one more thing, Bradley." At his nod, you continue. "I think I should do it alone."

"Baby, you know I'm going to have to meet my father-in-law eventually, right? Hopefully before the wedding?"  Now he's looking at you like you’re crazy.

"I know, Bradley. But we've got plenty of time for that, right? And I know my dad will love you!" You cup his cheek gently with your left hand.

"It's 'cause I'm a Yankee, right?" 

You crinkle your nose fondly before leaning in close enough that each word has your lips brushing against his. "Well, it's that and 'cause you're a Democrat." 

You're both giggling as the car pulls up in front of the Lincoln Center. Before you get out of the car, Bradley turns the ring so the stone is in your palm.

"Mum's the word, sweetheart. Just for now." 

The minute you step out of the car, you're bombarded by questions, flashes of light from countless photographs and what seem to be a hundred calls of your name. At the end of the runway is who you would classify to be the epitome of the Wicked Witch of the West, if only the Wicked Witch of the West were less green.

Carole Bradshaw is the current Mayor of New York, ex-First Lady of New York City, and 100% sure that nobody can run her son's life better than she can. So she butts into nearly every part of your relationship with Bradley. He manages to wiggle away by finding a colleague he recognizes. But that leaves you right in her clutches as she pulls you into a hug and takes both your hands in hers.

"Oh, darling, I hear fantastic things about your new line."

You babble your thanks, but you know exactly why her expression changes. Her vice grip on your left hand would hurt if you weren't wholly preoccupied by the cold sweat covering you from head to toe.

"What is this?" She hisses, "Bradley, why is Linley wearing a skating rink on a very important finger?"

She doesn't even notice you trying to tell her to keep it quiet, because all of a sudden she's screaming the words, "You're engaged?!", for all the press and fundraiser guests to hear.

That's when you know you have two huge problems. One, your engagement, your supposed-to-be hush hush engagement is going to be all over the news, you're sure nationally. Everybody will know that Secretary Bradshaw is engaged to you. The second problem? It's that you've never told anyone that you had been married once before. That you're still married, actually. 

It's with a heavy heart that you book the first red eye to Alabama in the early morning hours after the gala. How the hell are you going to get Jake to sign the divorce papers without him finding out that you're engaged? Can you get the divorce processed before Bradley comes to meet your dad? More importantly, are you ready to face Pigeon Creek again?

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@sarahsmi13s @atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @lt-spork @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai @cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74 @marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989 @im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb @hookslove1592 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @thedroneranger @roosterforme @dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls

[tired-of-being-nice]

the american dream is killing me - masterlist

character intro post is here, but i'm just gonna paste the same information into this lmao

basic worldbuilding summary: Generic Corporate Dystopia Hellworld. characters live in a massive builtup urban sprawl with different sectors more or less owned by various companies. you get basically one choice in life and it's choosing who to sell your soul to. some of these places are worse than others... or at least bad in more interesting ways

title is a placeholder (unless i end up liking it)- it's a reference to the green day song of the same name :)

rest of the info is under the cut!

milo - they/them

the unfortunate protagonist (?). coren's childhood best friend. tried to go undercover with them to find a way to break out of the system but ended up getting sucked in and is now firmly trapped, being slowly ground down by monotony and loneliness. strength: resilience, for better or for worse. weakness: has not slept in like a week.

coren - they/it

milo's childhood best friend! was determined to find a way to rebel and get free. unfortunately the company they chose to go undercover at was doing some interesting experiments and they happened to present an excellent target for guinea pig. they are essentially brainwashed, although it's mostly a matter of induced amnesia and has to be reinforced regularly. they work in employee retention, aka "chasing down anyone who tries to escape and dragging them back". they think this is very fun and they're having a great time :) as long as they can't feel pain. strength: resistance to any level of violence. weakness: crumbles when treated with any kind of gentleness.

ray - he/she

works for the same place milo does. never had any aspirations to get crushed, really, so she's doing just fine. never had any heart to get broken or any willpower to get crushed, so he hasn't lost anything. she has put everything into being the best she can possibly be in hopes of attaining a reward. what the reward is he doesn't know. strength: secret talent for piano. weakness: touch starvation and protestant guilt.

chronological story (with numbers indicating order of writing, and emojis indicating pov! 💚 is milo, 💙 is coren, 💛 is ray. stories connected by commas are directly following each other)

flashback/backstory:

💚 first meeting (#16)

💚 blood-stained tiles (#6, day 14 of febuwhump), who did this to you (#7, day 15), & came back wrong (#8, day 16)

💚💙💛 breaking point (#19)

arc 1 (everyone is being miserable on their own)

💚 man vs. society (#11, conflict whump challenge)

💛 convenience store loneliness (#25, whumptober 11)

💛 panic attack (#21, whumptober day 1)

💚 please tell me someday i'll at least be able to sleep (#23, whumptober 8)

💛 shivering (#28, whumptober 27)

💛 waiting for the bus (#20)

💚 helpless (#1, day 1 of febuwhump)

💙 solitary confinement (#2, day 2)

💙 obedience (#3, day 4)

💙 hide and seek (#4, day 7)

💙 semi-conscious (#5, day 12)

💙 too weak to move (#9, day 18,) & please don't (#10, day 19)

turning point

💙 weapon (#12)

💙 "because i care about you" (#13, day 24)

💛 "help them" (#14, day 26)

💚 not allowed to die (#15, day 29)

💙 rude awakening (#17)

💙 the sound (#18)

arc 2 (the consequences of their actions)

💙 starvation (#26, whumptober 12)

💙 "it's not my blood" (#22, whumptober 6)

💙 "i can't think straight" (#24, whumptober 10)

💙 performance review (#27, whumptober 15)

💛 "who said you could rest?" (#29, whumptober 29)

💙 asking for help (#30, whumptober 31)

taglist: @/whumpsoda @/snakebites-and-ink @/cepheusgalaxy @/silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @/whatwhump

[l-crimson-l]

Hello! I saw your post asking for Gundam thoughts, so here's mine: what's your take on the reading/interpretation that Suletta's story is a commentary/critique/reflection on both Lalah's and Marida's stories (I don't care about spoilers, so no worries about that)?

Ok so I haven’t thought about Lalah in a HOT minute so excuse me there but there was actually a couple parallels between G Witch and Unicorn.

Speaking about Marida specifically, it was really cool to see a different take on the clone angle. We see Marida, a long lost, forgotten and forsaken Puru clone abused by those who find her and quite literally chopped up to be singularly whatever her “Master” wants her to be. It’s gruesome and horrific but when we first see her she’s escaped some of that abuse and returned to her original purpose which is to be a pilot. Her new “Master” is also someone who doesn’t want to use her like her previous owners but is forced to send her out as a pilot due to circumstance.

Compare this to our first introduction to Suletta and we see a couple different similarities. While she didn’t have to suffer (as much) to get to where she is at the beginning of the show we find out later she also has a “Master” of her own: her mother. And within the course of the first episode she gains a relationship that will grow to guide her to her own happiness.

The more I think about them the more their arcs seem to start and end together but separate at the middle. Suletta is famously unsure about herself and just about every interaction she has with other people. Marida is cool and confident and knows what she is and needs to be for Neo Zeon and her “Master”. But each woman slowly finds out what they want is family to surround them. Suletta fights for her family, both for her wife and to save her sister and mother and to a lesser extent Earth House. Marida floats through life, settling in a place where she’s comfortable being used as a pilot bc it’s what she knows but the man she now calls her Master never wanted to be and actively dislikes being called that. It’s at the peak of Marida’s arc that we learn her “Master”, Suberoa Zinnerman, only wants to take care of her as his daughter, in place of the one he lost. Marida is no replacement, but she’s here and he’ll do what he can to keep her safe. Even if that means dangling from a single cable in the upper stratosphere.

These two ladies couldn’t be any more different from the outside, but where they differ they reflect one another, in how confident they are, how they try to attain their goals, but they each have the determination to reach their dreams and make them their own. You could argue Marida doesn’t get to keep her family, but as a Newtype, Marida gets to exist within time itself so she’s always going to be there.

This is making me want a spinoff of these two bc I just think they’d be a lot of fun. And I think Marida would help encourage Suletta to be more confident and sure of herself.

I don’t do a lot of these breakdowns but I hope it makes sense lol these two ladies begin and end at the same place but even where they differ they reflect one another and are joined in that way. And I think that’s neat. Two separate ways of getting to the same place. Give these ladies a hug (and a Marida some ice cream)

[reunionatdawn]

My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 7: Linhardt/Lysithea)

Hanneman: What do you hope to uncover once everything is finally explained? What motivates you to keep digging deeper? Linhardt: I…had never thought about it like that. Perhaps if I did have a goal, I might share your enthusiasm on the subject.

At the Goddess Tower, Linhardt seemed more interested in Crest research than romance. However, he bears the Crest of Cethleann, associated with The Lovers arcana. The Lovers card in Tarot symbolizes love, as well as romance, connection, attraction, and perfect harmony. The cool, rational scientist did seem to want a romantic partner.

Linhardt: It is truly my dream to be a Crest scholar, but I also dream of all the wonderful naps peace would bring.

Linhardt just wanted to live his life doing things that interested him. He got upset with Edelgard for suggesting that the pursuit knowledge is only worthwhile if it's useful. Yet he was concerned that Crests were designed to only be useful in times of war and he hated bloodshed. Fortunately, his other dream was living a life of leisure.

Lysithea: That is all I wish for…but I haven't much time to ensure it comes to pass.

Lysithea has two Crests. One is the Crest of Charon, associated with The Tower. The Tower Tarot card represents chaos, disaster, trauma, and unexpected loss. While I think her Support chain with Cyril was beautiful and they made an adorable pair, the ending is very bittersweet. The happiest ending for Lysithea is definitely one where she can regain her lost lifespan. That was what her entire storyline was about, after all. This leaves her with only a few options.

Ferdinand: Now, there is no guarantee we will stumble across a solution to your particular problem… But we have the wisest minds of the Empire—including Linhardt, Professor Hanneman, and many others—researching the matter as we speak.

Lysithea's Support with Ferdinand in Hopes even hints that her hope lies with Hanneman and his apprentice Linhardt. While this pairing isn't pushed quite as heavily by the writers as something like Dorothea/Ferdinand, it's still up there. They even have unique dialogue when they fight, which is rare for cross-house students in Hopes.

Linhardt & Lysithea Though Linhardt researched vigorously for a method by which to remove the Crests from Lysithea and save her life, the war ended before he could reach any conclusions. Lysithea, deciding that she should return home to her parents, thanked Linhardt and took her leave of Garreg Mach. Not to be deterred, Linhardt set his affairs in order, renounced his noble title, and followed Lysithea to Ordelia territory to continue his research. Years later, his efforts bore fruit, and Lysithea's Crests were successfully removed. With a new future ahead of her, Lysithea, too, renounced her noble claim, and the couple married as commoners. It is said they raised a very happy family.

This is definitely the best ending for Lin's character development. The "Scholar of Misfortune" represented the perfect test subject for the "Sleepy Crest Scholar". But he sacrificed his dream so that she'd live longer. He finally finds the motivation to work hard for something and puts his talents to use. And he is rewarded for it by attaining his other dream where he doesn't have to worry about his research being useful anymore.

And it's the only ending where Lysithea can find love and live a long happy life with a family of her own. With more time on her hands, she won't feel the need to work so hard to be useful like before. This ending represents a new age for a Fódlan where Crests are no longer needed because the people have grown tired of war.

[elizakai]

RADIANCE REPUDIATION

A Dreamtale Poem (word dump?)

from an entity who believes their an angel, fallen. 🌙

to an entity they believe to pose as one. ☀️

(aka written from Nightmares pov towards Dream, somewhat)

⬇️⬇️ UNDER THE CUT ⬇️⬇️

isn’t it funny? How Time changes Or rather, refuses to

Time doesn't change, in actuality Such is only perception on the part of lower beings Mortals The acute minds of smaller entities

Time Continues steadily Time knows only one loyalty Yes, Time is faithful

For you, the same cannot be said.

It's funny.

You spawn of Regret Regret, a curse that can be escaped Or, alas, could have been, had hindsight not hidden her naked body from your youthful eyes

Irony, too, plays with it's food But, of all this you are aware.

Or…are you? Do you regret? Do you grieve?

…of course not What am I thinking Of course not.

…It's funny

Nurturing such questions

It's…funny

Fate has laid her pieces out And you have made your moves Woe to you, it seems, one who is set in their ways

One who is set in stone.

Hardened is your soul, your essence Why is it we were placed wrongly on this scale? Alas, it seems your longing for mercy goes unanswered Alas, we've fallen from what little grace we'd attained

That is the nature of things This world rewards those who reap misfortune

A bittersweet misfortune, it is

It's funny.

What pride have you, to rebel Fate and her peons?

What arrogance do you cling to? That you may set things right?

Though, I suppose… That, we shall share always. Eternity till Entropy Until one or the other crumbles

Remember, chimera, stone is brittle. The blood of a companion is thicker than the waters of birth. Of this I am relieved… For you've long since tainted the streams of our youth. No tree can grow in a parasitic wasteland.

That is, none that will last.

No, long gone is the person I once thought to know Long dead, are they, and no requiem shall I hold.

Loathe am I to the sowers of our misfortune

Loathe am I to the mother of our wakefulness. It would have been better to have never existed.

To have never known you To have never held you To have never loved you To have never lost you

But Solace is my lover, for she reminds me that it is not I, nor myself, nor him to blame, but you.

Her and them and you and you and you and-

It's funny.

Scramble up the hill A hill of graves Tombstones upon tombstones, add as many as you will. Will it ever be enough for you? Their downfall will not be your upbringing The ladder is unstable Your goal is unattainable.

Claw, fight, scream

Not an ear will turn to you in pity

Humorous, Karma and the bubbling brooks of her laughter

Where is your control?

When did you pass it to me, pray tell?

…unfortunate fool. Not an ear will turn to you in compassion

Forever out of reach, as long as free will remains mine

Time changes not But every person does, will, must! Oh the pained naivety! Does rock abstain one from growth? Silly me! Silly you!

w h y a r e n ' t y o u l a u g h I n g ?

…I can't hear her laughing anymore.

I can't hear her at all.

The laughter is him. Always him. Us? us.

You were never needed, were you, oh iridescent zephyr?

Acceptance.

A weapon I've obtained A defense you've yet to claim

Illusion of the unconscious mind, feeder of false hope, luminous liar of the night. Dearest delusion of grandeur.

Rest now, in what grief you can muster

Rest now, in the act of sorrow you play

You're 500 years behind.

It’s 500 years too late.

[apilgrimsjournal]

Heaven on Earth

“Son,'he said,' ye cannot in your present state understand eternity...That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, "No future bliss can make up for it," not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. And of some sinful pleasure they say "Let me have but this and I'll take the consequences": little dreaming how damnation will spread back and back into their past and contaminate the pleasure of the sin. Both processes begin even before death. The good man's past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven: the bad man's past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why...the Blessed will say "We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven, : and the Lost, "We were always in Hell." And both will speak truly.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

I believe it is safe to say that all children of God yearn for Heaven. Sons and daughters of the Holy One of Israel were made to dwell in His presence even before the foundation of Earth. And it is so, I long for that country where I have not been. But if I may say so, with precaution, that I know of Heaven here on Earth. I do not claim that Heaven can be anywhere. The prince of the power of the air is also here in this world and friendship with this world would mean enmity with God. What I mean by Heaven on Earth is His people.

My brothers and sisters in Christ give me a glimpse of what Heaven could look like. In trials, most especially in darkest valleys, their love endures and glows brighter. The family of saints does not hesitate to help and bless others. As channels, His love flows through them. Like a river that runs deep, so is their genuine concern for one another. I am blessed to be one and experience such love that transcends all understanding. Surely, we love because He first loved us. Knowing His love is the reason why anyone could love selflessly, not wanting anything in return. Just yesterday, I tasted and saw this, once again. They celebrated my birthday in advance even when I did not expect anything from anyone. I find it unnecessary to be celebrated like that but I guess that comes with being cherished. You cannot love without showing it; it is bound to burst and overflow. One cannot love without actions.

Honestly, I enjoyed every bit of it. Unexpected joy is a fulfilling joy. I am so grateful to those who took the time and made the effort to really be with me yesterday. It is my lament how little I could express my gratitude but I hope they know how much I am thankful for each and everyone. Ultimately, I am most grateful to my Lord for giving me a family who loves Him. I do not deserve anything from Him but He gives abundantly.

Truly, the blessing of the Lord makes rich, and He adds no sorrow with it.

“Blessed are you, O Lord, the God of Israel our father, forever and ever. Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty, for all that is in the heavens and in the earth is yours. Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as head above all."

[suchaspookyginger]

'just on a whim' || a torao/lawlu playlist

track lyrics below the read more (it's long though)

secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought || i'm sorry, brothers, so sorry lover; forgive me, father, i love you, mother || save your breath - half your life, you've been hooked on death || i fell in love, 'cause no one saw me the way you did || i wanna know what it's like to be awkward and innocent, not belligerent || there's a box in your heart where you keep your feelings hidden || and maybe it's the past that's talking, screaming from the crypt || tremble, little lion man, you'll never settle any of your scores || i know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as i do || i'm no good on my own anymore

left my soul in his vision, let's go get it out || last night i had a dream we were inseparably entwined || i'm on my guard with the rest of the world, but with you i know it's no good || i lose my voice when i look at you, can't make a noise though i'm trying to || can you hear me say, "don't throw me away"? there's no way out || best friends, ex-friends til the end, better off a lovers and not the other way around || in the morning you'll learn i disappeared off into the night so quietly || i'm exhausted by my heart || when the road began to crumble in front of my eyes, there was only one person i wanted to find || can't stop thinking 'bout the nights that i still regret

and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up || my friend says "you're not alone," but that skin still doesn't feel like home || reaching for the deep end but i can't swim || it's not that i don't feel the pain, it's just i'm not afraid of hurting anymore || i've been on the run since i was a boy, but i'm now done running, got another thing coming watching my enemies get destroyed || who am i without this weight on my shoulder? oh god i'm dying to know || i've been running away i forget what i'm running from, but it still scares me today what i found in you love || smitten's a bad look on me || in the name of the father, the skeptic and the son, i had one more stupid question || i don't know where i'm going, but i don't think i'm coming home

a half-empty [boy] don't make me laugh i'll choke || my eyes want you more than a memory || it's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him || god knows where i would be if you hadn't found me sitting all alone in the dark || your dark brother wrapped in white, says it's good to be alive, but now he rides a comet's flame and he won't be coming back again || i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take || this was the place i grew up, now it's ashes to ashes || i've been ripped up and tossed like a mouse, wrestled with the heavens and the devil himself || why drink the water from my hand, contagious as you think i am? || i just want to make it vanish, but the notes of an old mistake still ring louder every day

you're always getting curious and leaving town || i could never define all that you are to me || i wouldn't test you, i'm not the best you could have attained || i can't process what i'm feeling now, this skin i can do without || i woke up with the sun, thought of all of the people, places and things i've loved || love of mine, someday you will die, but i'll be close behind || they say an end can be a start, feels like i've been buried yet i'm still alive || i'm chasing down my demons, i can hear them breathing. but who knew you would bring me comfort? || i won't fight for anyone until you move my hand || rainy days and bad luck comin' my way, i look for when i'm lost so i don't go insane

this is all your own battle to win, this is your ship and you are the captain || i'm feelin' like i'm messin' it up, i'm callin' out your name and god help me 'cause i'll never love again || got my heart in your hands and your hands on my chest || strange life i live, but it's what you've decided, i'll give it all into your hands || i won't make the same mistakes that i've made for fifteen years || oblivion is where i'm headed, my mind is on the brink of going supernova || and as the world comes to an end, i'll be here to hold your hand. 'cause you're my king and i'm your lionheart

[bigbrotherlouis]

sorting out my emotions under the cut:

ughh i am conflicted about moving to boston. it's not a for sure yet but decisions sometimes come slowly for me because i have to be okay with the change and the loss of other opportunities.

i really wanted to move to manchester. so many people i know are there or moving there and it felt right but nothing was coming through legal-wise or job-wise which makes it currently untenable. i can't tell if these conflicted emotions are just sadness and grief from the amount of loss this summer + putting my dream of staying in europe on hold for now, or because it's not the right decision and i should keep fighting. not that i necessarily think that there is a singular one right decision intellectually, but it's hard to untangle that on a emotions level. also i'm trying to remind myself that i am young and i can move. i can always leave and move somewhere else. i do not get tied to places just because i live there for a while. i hate feeling trapped in a city and it's hard for me to fight the instinct that i am stuck and can never leave.

anyway. to counteract all this, i've been trying to think of ways i want to add what i'm calling attainable joy - things that make me excited to move and settle somewhere for a while. i'm putting them here.

a top priority is russian languages classes! i would love to be fluent in about three years, which i think is possible if i keep up at it. my hope is one day to be good enough to translate and keep that as a skill in my back pocket.

there's a lot of non-audition choirs in boston and i love communal singing! i would love to do that again.

i have lost so much flexibility and i don't like it, and i liked dancing, so i would love to do some beginner dance classes. depression makes it hard to exercise for me but exercise makes me feel better so it's a delicate balance.

decorating an apartment and having all my stuff in one place is sooo attractive. i haven't been able to have all my belongings in the same place for literally ten years. it's time.

the family i love so much is in boston! i would love to be part of their daily lives again. also my friends are getting married soon live there! my cousins! it would be good

i've been thinking of becoming a fulbright scholar and that's a long process. this would give me space to do that!

working remotely would hopefully give me some space to focus on original fiction, which would be lovely, as well as some additional research.

my parents are thinking about new york, which is close enough to visit on weekends occasionally. i like living near to my parents (or with my parents!) and that distance feels nice.

i haven't started my job yet but i think i will really like it. the girl who hired me is a good friend and i'm excited to work with her in a professional setting. it's also with a demographic i'm very passionate about, work that i think will enjoy, has good connections for future career options, and will be a good building block on my resume.

i have not given up the hope of a phd, and i want to go back to the UK for that. i like the system and i loved qub.

okay okay that's making me feel a little better. argghhh being an adult is HARD sometimes like trying to navigate decisions and trying to predict what is going to branch off because of each decision. i'm working through it though and i have to get through this autumn in california first

[charlenasaxen]

Julius Quotes

“The white clouds seemed so near to him, surely they were easy to hold and to caress, strange-moving things belonging to the wide blue space of heaven”

“they almost brushed his eyelids as they passed, and he had only to grasp the long curling fringe of them with his fingers and they would belong to him instead”

“he must clutch at the clouds and bring them down from the sky. So he held out his hands to them and they did not come. He cried out to them and they did not come. They passed away from him as though they had never been, indifferent and aloof”

“they were carried away by the wind, born of nothing, dissolving into nothing, a momentary breath that vanished in the air”

“he would frown his ancient baby frown of an old man”

“eternal question of the earth to the skies—Who am I? Where from? Where to? The first cry and the last. The sigh of the baby, the sigh of the old man.”

“lean, wretched animals who would prowl at night and disturb those who slept with their thin hungry cries”

“And just before his head sunk down upon his chest, and Mère picked him up and carried him to bed, the door would open once more and Père come in”

“Père with Julius’s eyes, Julius’s hair, Julius’s long pointed nose. Then the family broke up, they would not be themselves anymore”

“Sometimes he gazed at Julius, who, with stained pinafore and swollen eyes, cried for his bed”

“Can’t he enjoy himself, poor little soul? Hasn’t he the right to eat?”

“Julius, half asleep on his mother’s lap, would gaze across at his father, so white and strange in the candlelight, and it seemed to him that the song was his, and the cry was his”

“The music went into him and sent him to sleep, carrying him away to some distant place belonging only to dreams”

“he would be aware of an enchantment known only to himself and to Père. Unconscious of the world he was carried to bed, fast wrapped in his secret city”

“but Père, Paul Lèvy, was a dead thing, was a Jew”

“and Père was no longer Paul Lévy the Jew, but a man who whispered, a magician who called, a white still face of beauty crying in the darkness”

“a poor thing who could not fight for his rights, a Jew by day, a king by night”

“Jew,” spat his mother, when she wished to scold him; “you miserable little Jew. You are your father’s son. You are not my son today.”

“born of a Jew—you aren’t a Blançard—you’re a Lévy.”

For to be a real Blançard was the highest praise to which a small boy could attain”

“turned his face away so that he should not see the strange white face of Père in his corner, who had not said a word, who stared at him with his burning black eyes”

“slowly he leaned against his knee, waiting for the hand to stroke his hair softly, gently”

“in these moments he knew he was greater than they, he knew that the Blançards were only people, and he was someone apart”

“someone who stood alone with Père, scornful of the pitiful world, someone who lived with dreams, and beauty and enchantment, who conquered by silence, who dwelled in a secret city—a Lévy, a Jew”

“run to pat the legs of the horse who swished his tail”

“he held up his face too that they might linger for an instant on his cheek, wet and gentle”

“they were being carried along the Avenue towards the bridge, the sight of the flowing Seine looming faintly through a mist of falling snow”

“Julius was wrapping the slice in a piece of paper, forgetting her already, his eyes once more searching the faces”

“Julius stuck out his chest and folded his arms. Wasn’t he a Blançard too, even if he was only ten years old?”

“Julius threw back his head like his grandfather, he winked at the butcher’s son”

“feel them slap his shoulder and tell him he was a young rascal.

“I’m a Blançard—I’m a Blançard.”

“they stared at one another, bewildered and lost, it seemed to Julius he could see the long line of the enemy”

“They are leaving their dog behind to starve—who is going to feed it? Can I feed it, Grandpère?”

“We’re ready, aren’t we? Let ’em come—let ’em all come, every stinking Prussian mother’s son.”

“No one could make him move, he would stay in Puteaux until the very stones of the street were blown up beneath his feet”

“They shan’t take my house, not a stone—not a brick.”

“Julius set snares to catch birds, he fixed lines on the banks of the Seine”

“And nobody could tell him. Nobody knew how long they must wait, how soon the evening would come.”

“Who would kill animals that have served well and worked hard?”

“It isn’t a time for sentiment, my darling”

“a real Blançard. Even though I’ll be an old fellow when you grow tall, I’ll show you things. We’ll laugh, won’t we? we’ll trick the world.”

“You must learn to live with your body, my little one, and laugh and sing, and fill yourself and take everything you want.”

“Something for nothing—something for nothing,” sang Julius.

“Go on, laugh at me, you miserable chicken.”

“There was a sound, too, a distant murmur—the movement of people blocked in a mass, foreign, queer. Grandpère flushed, his eyes narrowed, and he swore under his breath”

“The old horse galloped, his ears laid back. Julius kept looking back over his shoulder.

“They’re coming, Grandpère”

“Jean Blançard chuckled. “Go on, my beauty, go on,” he cried, and he handed the reins to Julius. “Drive straight”

“I’m going to have a shot at them,” said Grandpère, and he turned in his seat and reached for the old gun”

“Drive, my darling, drive like the devil,” laughed Grandpère, and he raised his old musket to his shoulder and fired”

“caring nothing for the light hands of Julius on the reins he took the bit firmly between his teeth and bolted.

The cart rocked, pulled first one side then the other”

“Got him—the stinking vandal, got him!” he shouted”

“You’re hurt,” whispered Julius, and he felt a cold shiver go through him and began to cry”

“there came another shot, and the blood ran all over his face”

“it was someone who flung his gun away, who fell upon his face into a ditch and died. And a little Jew boy white with horror clung to the reins of the maddened horse, thrown from side to side”

“hearing nothing but his own child’s voice crying in the cold air: “The Prussians are coming… the Prussians… the Prussians.”

“running to a corner and snatching his little cat in his arms, stroking her, burying his face in the fur”

“why could not they leave him alone? He was tired, tired… Mère gave him a crust of bread and he chewed it hungrily, crying softly”

“grasping at odds and ends of no value or use, a pair of slippers belonging to Grandpère, a frying pan”

“he knew now that they were going away from Puteaux because of the Prussians, that if they had gone before Grandpère would not be dead”

“The Prussians are coming—the Prussians are coming…”

“Why are you looking back, Julius? What do you see? There is no time…”

He didn’t want to leave the house, he did not want to leave Puteaux. It was his home”

“No—no, my little Mimitte, my sweet. I will not leave her to the Prussians, they will hurt her.” He clasped the cat next to his heart”

“Give me your cat to look after, she will be happy with me. Don’t cry, my poor little one.”

“No,” he said, “no, she is my own cat. No one will ever have her but me.”

“Will my little cat starve in Paris?”

“No,” whispered Julius, “no—never, never anyone but me. What is mine cannot belong to another person.”

“The animal purred, arching her back, patting the boy’s face with her paw. He buried his face in her fur and closed his eyes. Then he ran to the rail of the bridge and threw her over into the Seine.”

“The rain mingled with the tears on his face, they splashed down on his sleeve”

“He sat with blazing eyes in a white face, silent, proud, his small arms folded, a Lèvy—a Jew”

“He longed for the rich good smell of the market, for Grandpère’s face smiling at him, breaking off a piece of cheese.”

“Something for nothing,” said Julius, “something for nothing.”

“It was the beginning of the end. The surrender of Paris, inevitable, fatal, loomed”

“Paul Lévy was no longer a magician who breathed music, who dreamed dreams, he was a senseless thing of no will, who could not even raise his head to watch shells whistle through the air”

“There was something about their faces that was curiously familiar to Julius, it was as though he knew them all, as though he had met them long ago, and they smiled at him too and they understood”

“this too was strangely familiar to him, words he knew and understood, that were part of him”

“Then he knew, then he understood. It was as though something warm took hold of his heart”

“He was among his own people. They saw with his eyes, they spoke with his voice; this was his temple, those were his candles.”

“they came there to be together because they all belonged to one another”

“It was not the Rabbin only, young, pale-faced, who stood there, it was Paul Lévy, it was Julius, it was child and boy and man”

“it traveled away, beyond the gold sun, flinging itself against the stars, exquisite, trembling, a song of beauty and pain”

“the cry of one who searches the sky, who holds out his hands to the clouds”

“the chanting was food to him, was eating and drinking, was peace and consolation, sleep and forgetting”

“he was as abstract as the sound of wings in the air, of a running stream, of the wind in the trees. He would never be touched, he was the flight of a bird”

“When I grow up I will be a Rabbin, too,” thought Julius, “and I shall lose myself in the singing like he did. I shall make music and dream dreams in front of the golden candlestick.”

“Anyway, none of this matters to me. I am going to be a Rabbin. I am going to make music.”

“Besides,” he reflected, “there was no collection and that means there is nothing to pay…”

“He did not know how he was going to put into words all the things he had felt and seen”

“he was making up little sentences in his mind—“You do understand, don’t you, Père?”

“he wanted to run to Père and tell him he was happy”

“What was the young Rabbin doing now, he wondered”

“I see you, I see you—you can’t pretend to me,” shouted Julius”

“Go on, go on,” shouted Julius, “it serves her right, it serves her right.”

“He could understand why Père had killed her. He didn’t want his thing to be spoiled. He would not allow anyone else to have it.”

“Julius knew it had hurt Père very much to kill her, but there had been nothing else to do”

“It’s still a bit early for me to feel sorry she is dead,” he thought. “I haven’t given up being angry with her yet.”

“His face was still the color of a sheet. Julius felt old and grown up, he wanted to look after Père.”

“Sleep will do you good. After I had thrown my little Mimitte into the Seine I was glad to lie down that evening”

“I miss stroking her warm fur and feeling her paws on my face. I expect you will miss going with Mère. But it can’t be helped, can it? It is better for her to be dead than for other people to have her.”

“I shall miss her badly, too,” he said. “When I’ve stopped being angry, I shall cry.”

Père hugged him tightly”

“He kissed him too, on his eyes and his mouth.

“You are my own little thing, aren’t you?”

“Why can’t we go home, then?”

“Because Puteaux isn’t our home, it belonged to Grandpère and Mère. We have not got a home, you and I.”

“France is not our country. We are Lévys, we are Jews.”

“Jacques Tripet is going to get a fright when he comes in, anyway”

“Mère had a purse tied round her waist, shall we take it?”

“In a way it’s something for nothing.”

“It’s a pity the Prussians are not firing today,” said Julius, “we might have done business and made profit.”

But the guns were silent”

“the crowd broke up and dispersed. They melted away as though they had never been. Julius looked up at Père, and he too seemed dumb”

“It is a pity to waste money on a ticket,” he said, “we ought to be able to go south for nothing.”

“It seemed to Julius that Père was only splendid by moments, and at other times he was a poor creature”

“I am a Blançard as well as a Lévy,” thought Julius”

“Besides, people do not travel in goods trains.”

“Père did not answer, it was useless. How should he know what had happened?”

“the Prussian speaking German which nobody could understand”

“Père was speaking Hebrew. He was praying. Julius prayed too.”

“Julius should feel only his body and not the jolting stones, while he himself lay on his back, shaken and bleeding”

“Julius taking upon himself the business of procuring food, and it was a delight to him to trespass upon the hospitality of the peasants, clutching the while in his pocket the purse of sous he did not need to spend”

“the joy and the thrill that it was in life to obtain something for nothing”

“Who cares? I have made a profit. Leave me alone.”

“He opened the window and threw aside the shutters, gazing at the blue sea”

“Somewhere there were gardens and flowers growing, the rich scent of tropical plants buried in deep moss, perfume of honey and heavy sweet purple blossoms, and another smell too, a market smell of spices and leather”

“His dark eyes smiled at Julius, and the boy knew that here was the help he needed”

“he and Père were safe. He was among his own people. This man was a Rabbin.”

“The atmosphere was peaceful, silent, a place of security”

“Have not you understood, my little son? This is your home. You and your father are the children of the Temple.”

“That is very clever of you, my child. But to make a soul fit for the Temple—can you do that?”

“Julius hopes to be a Rabbin,” said Père eagerly.”

“living and loving, and being more powerful than those other men—and getting further than them and further than anyone, not a Rabbin in a Temple, but he himself—he—Julius Lévy—was not that beautiful too?”

“The stir of the market excited Julius, he felt restless and impatient, he could not bear to listen to the merchants bargaining with one another and he not able to bargain himself.”

“it’s no use. I was not meant to sing in the Temple. This is my thing, selling to make profit. Something for nothing, something for nothing.”

“No one could say where you had gone. Your father is dying.”

Julius stared at him without speaking. Then he ran upstairs”

“It was his flute. He lifted it to his lips, never taking his eyes away from the sky, and he began to play.”

“Higher and higher it rose, trembling, exquisite, the fluttering song of a bird borne on the wind”

“a last appeal, the messenger who whispered at the gates of the secret city”

“it was as though part of Julius himself was taken also, the child who listened in the Temple, the child who leaned against his father’s knee”

“the child who whimpered and loved and stretched out his hands”

“as he went he took with him something that would never come again, the lost boy, the frightened happy child—he took something of Julius himself—something that was tremulous, and pitiful, and young”

“Forty-five francs profit and almost something for nothing…”

“the hard glaze of the blue sky, and the intolerable burning heat that he loved”

“At fifteen he was tall and slim, with Paul Lévy’s face, Paul Lévy’s narrow hips, and his long beautiful hands, but his shoulders and chest were broad like Jean Blançard’s had been, and he carried his head high, aggressive and confident”

“these things seemed good to him, part of the life he was leading, and he fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette”

“now faded and crushed but the scent still strong as ever. He bit the flower so that he should taste it”

“He went to the street corner where he knew he would find the other fellows. There they were, Marcel Hibert, Pierre Falco, Toto the freckled madcap son”

“You owe me money, my friend,” said Julius; “have you made any reckoning?”

“He’ll not follow us, I shall see to that,” said Julius. The boys glanced at each other, half excited, half scared.”

“Julius patted his pocket. “The same as David did to Goliath,” he said.

They blinked stupidly, they did not understand. Julius laughed and turned on his heel. “I am a Jew, I know everything,”

“From a distance he might have been taken for someone resting, overcome by fatigue.

Only then did Julius give his signal”

“he could not stop laughing as he reeled in the saddle, hysterical at the sight of the other boys each as helpless”

“in spite of his bruised flesh and his agony of fatigue there was something exhilarating and grand in this mad screaming gallop”

“Marcel in the cactus bush,” yelled Julius. “I shall never forget it, never”

“He clattered through the streets of Alger scattering the people to right and left, waving his hand to an old fellow who shook his stick at him and cursed”

“Julius laughed, caring not at all, and he charged his animal into the square cattle market packed with people, knocking into a flock of sheep”

“Fools! Wine was a good servant but a bad master.”

“She was quiet, too, with grave manners. Sometimes he met her in the mornings at the market, and he would show her how to bargain”

“It flattered him to see the adoration and hero worship in her eyes”

“Sleeping was a waste of time, thought the boy; it didn’t give you anything”

“She caressed him gently, feeling his narrow hips, his hard thighs”

“And to see him in attendance at the Temple, his silence, his attitude of worship, his utter denial of the world when in the presence of God, the Rabbin would be puzzled once again”

“he would offer nothing but worship in this atmosphere of peace and restraint as though nothing would ever exist but the vision of the iron gates”

“That is the real Julius, there, standing at prayer,” said Moïse Metzger, and in his ardor he would cry out to God”

“unaware of the significance of that empty room and that open window; would neither waking nor sleeping have any knowledge of Julius, his real Julius, swinging his legs over the ledge”

“this victory that was no victory but a sharp death, poisonous and strong”

“When I was his age I sold in the market,” thought Julius, and he flung ten centimes to the child”

“searching in his mind the verses of Keats, who painted so subtly the charms of the sleeping Endymion”

“Julius sighing somewhat to deepen the atmosphere, and fingering the cover of a book as though he loved the very texture, a lock of hair falling most appropriately over his forehead”

“Oudà said they were a nation of fools,” thought Julius. “Is it always going to be as easy as this?”

“Julius, thinking to himself: you couldn’t sell produce for profit when you were ten and remain ignorant”

“would reply softly, a little sadly: “My mother and I used to read together in the evenings.”

“seeing the time of his lesson slipping away—a good thing it cost no money or he would not be having his full value”

“when it came to studying there was no pretense, for Julius was thirsty for knowledge as Fletcher had said, and he gave his whole mind to this learning of English, sparing no pains to perfect the grammar and the accent”

“innocent, appallingly sensitive. You mustn’t get hurt, you know—you mustn’t spoil yourself.”

“No, sir—it’s all right. I shall read a little and think about you. You help me so much.”

“haven’t you got anything for me? I’ve the devil of a thirst, but it isn’t a drink I’m wanting.”

“the little cross given him that day by Martin Fletcher, “making a bond between us, Julius”

“nor the life that was to come, London, profit, something for nothing—something for nothing”

“the body of Mère curling towards him in her sleep, her hand about his thighs”

“There was not any fighting in that sort of business, he had only to undertake something and it happened as he wished”

“Julius had to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent himself from laughing. He had discovered a new thing, of hurting people he liked.”

“Why don’t you make your home with me, Julius?” he would say. “Are things always going to continue like this between us?”

“He was not going to let himself starve and go in rags in London, not he”

“the Rabbin asked him no questions, but allowed him to go his own way, knowing that the Temple was lost to Julius now and that his very presence in the house would endure but a little longer”

“And every song he sang was an adieu, and every movement a gesture of farewell”

“part of him stood aside, watching the figure of himself with his hands to his lips, waving good-bye to his own boyhood”

“angry turbulent sea broke on the far shore where yesterday the beaches had been golden and the water blue”

“but Julius knew that his playtime was over and Alger was dead to him”

“Julius was down by the docks paying money for a third-class passage in the steamship Timgad, sniffing the wind, his nose turned to the north”

“a thwarted inexplicable sense of frustration that never again would he have what she had given him, that he had known at fifteen what many crave in vain during a lifetime”

“bidding Moïse Metzger good night without a word of his departure, feeling no sorrow and no shadow of distress”

“suddenly filled with the longing to be rid of the old phantoms of childhood and boyhood”

“no longer a tramp or a poor half-starved refugee. “I am Julius Lévy, traveling to London on business,” he said to himself”

“he stood with his arms folded against the rail of the ship watching the lights of Alger”

“It was something of pleasure to Julius to see them suffer, and to know that he too had suffered once but was now superior”

“A steerage passenger gazed at him with mingled hatred and envy. Julius laughed”

“Oh! Julius, dear Julius, please don’t be so cruel to me. I can’t help loving you. I’ve always loved you.”

“It was as though he were reminded of something long ago in his childhood, something that had loved him and warmed him in this fashion, curled next to him”

“his own little Mimitte who had been lost to him so long, his own little drowned cat with her soft fur and her smooth paws, sleeping once more her heart against his heart”

“softly, obsequiously, a smile on his face, but thinking: “This is not for long—one day, one day…”

“a profit that made a fortune, and a fortune that bought power, there was a dream and a thing of beauty, a dream that held the promise of reality”

“You never talk to me,” complained Elsa, stroking the back of his shoulder”

“summon in one breath the sweet smells and the distant cries of the Kasbah, the amber and spice and the crushed petals of bougainvillea flowers that would never be hers again, and “Where are we going?” she thought. “Why must this happen to us?”

“Listen—can you hear it?—listen.”

He held out his arm and she went to him, and together they leaned out of the little window”

“He took no notice of this, but drew her close against his side, and he said to her: “Someone should make music out of this.” She leaned her cheek against his.”

“he let her go from him, and he laughed and spread out his hands as though he could gather the atoms”

“it was as though he had shouted his words until they had found an echo in her heart, and he stood there with his eyes blazing”

“his hands opening and shutting as one who grasps a treasure; he towered above her sinister and strange”

“Yes, all of this is mine,” he repeated. “I shall give it to you. Anything you want. It will belong to me.”

“just the sun and the flowers and being happy, and you shall sell in the marketplace and I will look after you and give you children.”

“he smiled; he held out his arms and pulled her to him; he was not a stranger anymore but himself again, his hands running over her”

“calling her “his love, his own Mimitte,” funny words she did not understand, but which seemed to assure her”

“he thought clearly as though a cold light had broken into his brain: “I’m hungry and poor and cold—but I’m happy—I’m happy. This won’t come again.”

“he whimpered subconsciously like a lost child, and fell asleep and was alone again”

“to look now and again in at the shop and see Lévy behind the counter and customers standing, it was all very pleasant”

“This fellow Lévy smiled; he wasn’t going to give anything away. “That’s my business”

“If I’d wanted to buy your business then you wouldn’t have sold it. Nor would I have made it pay. Things are different now. People know me round here”

“These last years you haven’t made much of an appearance, though. Customers have forgotten you. If I set up for myself farther down Holborn I’ll take your custom with me.”

“For three years he had been waiting for this moment. He had infinite patience.”

“But he was laughing inside and he knew he had won. Julius bought the lease and was the owner of “Grundy’s.” He had a new name painted over the door: “Lévy—Baker and Confectioner.”

“She shook her head gravely. Of course they were still very poor; she would be careful. How clever he was, though”

“She did not understand how he had managed. If he was pleased, though, nothing else mattered.”

“Julius’s energy was unbounded; it was as though he could not understand that anyone else could be weary, that anyone should rest”

“she kissed his throat and whispered happily: “What are you thinking about?”

“when he gave her nothing of himself but his body”

“he would look up suddenly, throwing her a smile and catching her unawares. “Mimitte has hidden herself and has put out her claws. Does she want to be loved?”

“he with one touch of his lips upon her and one careless hand upon her heart would bring her weakness back to her”

“nor could she move nor think while he was there, laughing in her ear; but she knew she belonged to him body and soul, that her very blood and her flesh were part of him”

“she could never go from him without her own life leaving her”

“drank his coffee, bought a small chocolate cake and a pastry roll, and discovered he had lunched excellently for eightpence instead of spending his usual one-and-sixpence”

“He came again, and the next time there were two other tables beside his own, both of which were occupied”

“declared the “boss” to be crazy, and a damned young slave driver”

“I don’t understand, Julius,” said Elsa; “if we are still so poor how can you afford to buy the shop next door?”

“The lease is going cheap.”

“Julius and she still lived shabbily and meanly in the poky rooms at the back”

“She went to him at once.

“Well—are you going to leave me?” he asked.”

“what did you say, Mimitte?”

“You don’t love me,” she repeated”

“don’t cry down my neck; it bores me—can’t you find something else to do?”

“I was only teasing you, you silly little thing,” he called softly; “think I’d have any woman but you?”

“Don’t sulk, Mi-Mi baby.”

“it was a noticeable improvement to find oneself able to lunch well and thoroughly under half-an-hour. “Lévy’s” was a great novelty”

“passersby tried it, as “a change,” and then made lunch at Lévy’s a habit. The place was succeeding as Julius knew it would succeed.”

“Scaffolding erected in front of her bedroom window—the only spot of privacy left to her”

“he must add, improve, enlarge, change this, alter that, a new idea here, a change of policy there”

“Julius never lived in the present, he was always six months, a year, ahead”

“the braziers outside the doors in winter as he remembered them, when a child in Paris, would run through his mind suddenly for no reason and be put into practice without effort”

“He would stand on the big ground floor of the café during the rush hours—one o’clock till two—his eyes never still”

“Why not stools up against that counter?—good idea—run that as a new scheme next summer when he took in the next block”

“Hello!—that new fellow has smashed a tray, must sack him for incompetence”

“That fellow at the pay desk looks efficient, I’ll send him below. He’s wasted in this smaller room…”

“On and on, his thoughts traveling like a flash of lightning among faces and tables”

“below, above, in the kitchens, missing nothing and being everywhere at once”

“Lévy’s growing and improving every six months, a big popular café spreading itself from a humble baker’s and confectioner’s”

“they poured in to Lévy’s as though it had always been”

“Something for nothing,” they thought, “something for nothing,” which was just exactly what Julius Lévy intended them to think”

“She dreaded the appearance of Julius, for should he come near her when she was working she became flustered”

“how much money could it cost him, she wondered; perhaps any day he would tell her it had failed. They still lived so very cheaply”

“if they were on the edge of disaster. He might even be put in prison for debt.”

“she would only see Julius in the evenings. The management of the café took him further from her than ever”

“she, changing his plate and washing the dishes, darning his socks in a little low chair at his side, would feel like some servant”

“leaving her thus stranded on the little desolate shore of her existence”

“In 1890, Lévy’s café in Holborn was already a big three-storied building, comprising some three or four shops that had been knocked into one; and in the spring of that year Julius Lévy took over the entire block”

“The Strand, Leicester Square, Piccadilly. In ten or fifteen years’ time these were the spots which would be most congested”

“for the opening up of Lévy’s of Oxford Street and Lévy’s of the Strand. He knew they would be small at first, ignored perhaps, laughed at”

“a chain around England that nobody will break.

Julius was a boy sailing his first boat upon a pond”

“a tool in his hand singing as he worked, he was a child with his castle of bricks”

“you must come first before the whole world and think just a fraction ahead of your opponent”

“His hair flopped over one eye. He was a boy, he couldn’t mean what he said.

“You haven’t the money to do all that, Julius,” she said slowly. “Why, you’ll be ruined.”

“She was no longer a playful, restless, sensitive kitten who curled upon his chest, she had grown into a placid, dull little cat, a quiet, sleepy tabby”

“What had happened to Elsa? Had he outgrown her? He wanted to see her smile and chatter as she used to do.”

“Go out and buy yourself some clothes,” he said suddenly and quite unexpectedly, surprised at his own words. “Go this afternoon, never mind the expense. I’ll pay.”

“Why, Mimitte,” he began in wonder, using his old name for her unconsciously; “why, Mimitte, what have you done to yourself?”

“He stood quite still with his face hidden in her dress. The scent was the old Alger scent, disturbing and mysterious and sweet, and she felt warm in his arms”

“a young thing to be loved. Why couldn’t she have been like this all these months”

“He did not know how he felt, but he was stirred and touched in some way that did not explain itself”

“kept repeating it over and over again, half to himself, “you funny little thing.”

They were together that night, and the next night, and after that, and each day she grew younger and prettier and closer to him, and was happy”

“He told her she need not work anymore, that was over and finished, all she had to do was to look as she did, and be with him”

“she would have him showing her off, perhaps, watching her with a smile, she would learn to be smart and clever and she would be his lady.

He began to take her out in the evening.”

“she held his hands close to her heart.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” she told him, and he laughed”

“But he said to her: “You’re my lovely, aren’t you?”

“he took her on the river, she prattling all the time in delight and trailing one hand in the water, watching the glances of other women at her dress, and he laughingly told her to put up her parasol because the men’s eyes were following them and he was jealous”

“It’s come,” she thought. “The doctor said it would. Why did it wait so long? Why did it have to wait till I was happy?”

“It’s blood,” he said stupidly”

“She reached out for his hand and held it between hers”

“We can’t make things any better by pretending. I’m willing to face what’s ahead.”

“Only—coming now, just when I was being happy…”

“Why did she have to fall ill at just this time? He had to buy that site in the Strand. He had always said that nothing and no one should stand between him and his plans.”

“some loophole of escape. Not the girl in Ahèmed’s house, not like that.”

“But he was thinking of the site in the Strand. He would not give up his site in the Strand.”

“she was thinking, “I was with her when she died—I saw her face—I was with her when she died.”

“They lay together, side by side, waiting for the morning, making a little pretense to one another that they were sleeping and were not afraid”

“a carter and boy were staggering into the premises with great blocks of ice”

“Surely the doctor must have finished his examination by now. He paced up and down the room, he lit a cigarette, a thing he never did in the mornings”

“In the pit of his belly a pain gripped him, a pain that he could not recognize as fear”

“there came to his senses the memory of a little boy throwing his cat into the Seine, and the feel of the cat’s claws upon his shoulders as he loosened their grasp”

“the doctor came into the room, and Julius turned to him, the pain in his belly gripping him once more”

“I want you to see that Elsa—she is not my wife—has every comfort and attention”

“The doctor realized that the interview was at an end, but Julius Lévy had made no mention of Doctor Lorder and the clinic.

“Then you don’t wish me to…”

“I mustn’t keep you, doctor; you are a very busy man and so am I for that matter”

“Julius Lévy shook his head.

“I can’t manage it,” he said. “I have an appointment. Good day to you.”

“Hullo, you little shammer,” he said, smiling, and crossed over to her bed and took her hands in his”

“You’re a lazy little devil and you like me to fuss over you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

She smiled at him”

“Do you mean that, Julius? Shall I really get well and will I really go to Switzerland?”

He winked at her, laying one finger on her cheek. They laughed together”

“She went on chatting excitedly, patting the back of his hand”

“Don’t you worry, Mimitte.”

“You won’t be away very long, will you? There’s such heaps of things I want to say.”

“the very thought of Switzerland makes me long to be well. Oh! dear—I’m so happy.”

“he went off to keep his appointment in the Strand, to buy the site and to build another café”

“The Holborn café was a certainty these days. It ran itself, the profits increased, and his personal supervision was only a matter of formality.”

“To go from this, and then to the next thing, and on and on, tomorrow and tomorrow, his mind and his body and his soul reaching out to some hidden phase of the future”

“ten, twenty, thirty years were not long in the existence of one man, they would be gone from him too soon”

“Time was not slow to her, the seconds passed on the crest of a wave and so out of her reach forever”

“a world of pure imagination: white mountains that stood above an azure lake, heavy branches laden with snow and the cold clear jingle of sleigh bells”

“She smiled at him, for talking was an effort, these days, she knew not why, and he would say: “You’re looking much better, I believe you’ll be up in a week or two,” and his lies were messages of beauty to her”

“When shall I be able to move to Switzerland?” she whispered, and “Soon,” he said, watching her face, seeing in her eyes the pale lost look that had been Père’s”

“the look of those who hug within themselves the flickering light of the secret city”

“he would tell her stories instead, going over the things they had done together in Alger, remembering snatches of conversations, music and laughter”

“Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment,

Chagrin d’amour dure toute la vie…”

“she humming under her breath, and smiling: “Again, Julius, again.”

“she saying to him with her child’s faith:

“I’m much better, aren’t I?—much better. I shall get up and look out of the window with you on New Year’s Eve.”

“And he was comforted in some way that his lies were truth to her”

“She died on December the twenty-ninth”

“it seemed to Julius that Grandpère Blançard was with him now, alive in his blood, his great voice in his ear”

“she tried to say his name and call to him, but her strength was gone from her.

He saw by her eyes that she knew she was dying, and that her faith was gone and she was afraid.”

“that this was the end for her and she would never see him again. She would be a candle blown in the darkness.”

“she knew now he could have saved her had he wanted, but he chose to let her die, and she did not understand”

“All this she told him with her eyes, but she could not say his name, and he stood beside her bed and held her hand”

“a thing that clung to him for safety and was thrust between the bars of a bridge to be lost forever, and buried and forgotten.

Afterwards he went on holding her hand”

“hidden by the wave of fear and thankfulness that it was not he who lay upstairs”

“somebody else, and that Julius Lévy was hungry and alive”

“There was a fellow in the City who was making a name for himself. A Jew of course, but nobody knew where he came from.”

“There was a spirit of gaiety in the air, the large white building was brilliantly lit and an orchestra played on the first floor”

“It was considered rather “fast” to dine at Lévy’s in the Strand, the place was novel and amusing”

“Young earls with actresses, nervous gentlemen with other men’s wives, and the ordinary sentimental cockney couple who held hands under the table, they were all of them fish to the net”

“did make it pay, and he did not go smash, and he made more money in two years than anybody dreamed”

“it was while he was in Berlin on another affair that the younger man walked in and captured his market”

“he could afford to be magnanimous, and he found himself definitely interested in someone who had seen the advantages of that site beside himself”

“everywhere met the same reply: “Nobody knows; bit of a mystery. Keeps himself very much to himself.”

“He was considerably intrigued to discover a young man a little over thirty, very tall, very thin”

“who suddenly confessed, with the candid smile of a child, that lately he had found it very difficult to sleep”

“Julius Lévy laughed. He became human for a moment”

“he never had a sou in his pockets, but I think he was happy. I’ve tried to play it, too, but I can’t.”

“So I build cafés instead.” Then he put the flute back in the drawer.”

“something fatal, sinister, a quality of sadness that was strangely inhuman, that called at once upon your pity and your horror, and yet there he was with a smile on his face, a young fellow, likeable, charming, a brilliant creature”

“Julius grew fond of the elderly banker, too; for the first time in his life he had met with someone whose mind and sense were not inferior to his own”

“they could think alike and speak the same language. Besides, Hartmann was a Jew, he was one of his own people”

“I’m going to show you; I’m going to take you about,” warned Hartmann. “This hermit nonsense of yours has got to be stopped.”

“dreams that were never idle fancies but that came true with a swift suddenness that might have frightened another man less sure, less certain of his own destiny”

“I’m twenty, thirty times more passionately interested in life than you have ever been. Search…” he broke off abruptly and lit a cigarette”

“Julius was a little disturbed by this first experience of luxury. Flash and show were needful to the success of his cafés, but he was unaccustomed to it about his person.”

“The peasant in Julius, the simplicity and the carelessness of living that was Jean Blançard, made him uncomfortable”

“And I detest the English aristocracy: they’re snobs, they bore me”

“There’s a strain of vulgarity in you that has got to be cured,” he smiled; “those hands of yours—they show breeding.”

“half against his will he found himself accepting other invitations, meeting new people, and having once taken the plunge it was difficult to draw back”

“guessing that in time Julius Lévy’s fortune and attainments would bring him in contact with just that very set he affected to despise”

“he was more at ease among those he called his own people, men who had obtained some position in the world through their own endeavor. He met some of the big important Jewish families”

“they were all members of the same race, and any country could belong to them”

“head a little on one side, murmuring: “Wonderful, wonderful.” But he would be thinking: “Ugly or beautiful, what’s it going to be worth in twenty years’ time?”

“about this time that Julius began to attend synagogue once more. He wanted if possible to recapture his mood of the old days and to climb the dizzy pinnacle of joy with the voice of the singer.”

“She’ll look again in a minute,” thought Julius, and she did.

This time he smiled deliberately, raising one eyebrow and pulling a face at her”

“deliberately put out her tongue through the window of the brougham.

Julius, of course, was delighted; he laughed”

“I think we have met before,” he said gravely; and “I think not,” she answered with perfect courtesy”

“Do you make a point of putting out your tongue at strangers?”

“in that part of the world to stare at a very pretty woman is considered a compliment”

“The fact of the matter is, I don’t care whether you were annoyed or not. I never bother about other people’s feelings.”

“we can both of us be perfectly happy sitting silently through dinner”

“Unfortunately I was twenty-four last birthday.”

“I was going by your manner”

“Rachel Dreyfus had never met anyone quite like Julius Lévy before. At first she had disliked him thoroughly; he was arrogant, scornful”

“suddenly he glanced up and caught her gaze fixed upon him and he smiled—almost insultingly”

“sure that he could see inside her, and he knew that she knew he could see”

“as they went from the room she could feel his eyes on her back, mocking, penetrating”

“suggestive, as if he were saying: “I know a lot about you that you don’t know yourself.”

“Julius Lévy said nothing; he continued talking to one of the boys as though this business of singing at the piano had been a momentary and rather tiresome interruption”

“Rachel was certain that he was doing this to fluster her”

“he was mildly surprised at the facility with which things desirable came to him. Life is really too easy a thing, he mused; I never seem to have a fight.”

“Oh! you,” said Hartmann. “I can believe any nauseating story about your childhood.”

“Poor old Walter, he’d thank me for introducing you to his house. Don’t be a fool, Julius.”

“Can’t take a joke at the moment, but she’ll have to learn. I’m going to marry her.”

“all I can say is that you have made up your mind rather quickly. My congratulations. When is the wedding to be?”

“September, I thought.”

[nightguide]

NOBODY, BUT MY LIFE. I WILL NOT TRY

DETECTION OF TEMPERATURE FLUCTUATIONS (INTUITION)

SMWC: YOU ONLY HEAR MY VOICE TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO IF YOU WERE NEVER THERE, SO YOU'RE HEARING ME COMMIT TO YOU WITHOUT BEING SEEN

SH: I SAID IT. I MADE IT UP AND YOU INSPIRED ALONG (WHY YOU LIKE THE QUOTE)

SH8: WHY IS THE SKIES BREAKING HEAVEN (SPECTRUM RELEVATION: YOU KNEW WHY THE SKIES BROKE YOU FIRST (LONG LIST OF EX-LOVERS, THEY'LL TELL YOU I'M INSANE) 'WHAT IS LIFE UNDERNEATH OUR MATTER', SO THE SKIES DID NOT BREAK BECAUSE INTUITION RETALIATED BY YOUR WONDER BEFORE FAME IS UNKNOWN TO ME BEING A REASON SONGWRITER THAN A WILLING SONGWRITER (ANSWERED HER OWN QUESTION BEFORE ENTERING FAME FOR THE FIRST TIME (NO KARMIC QUALITY ABOUT THE AIR AROUND YOUR SOUL LIKE COFFEE ITSELF (MADE FOR MONEY)

SAUDI: YOU LIKE THE WAY I FEEL, NOT THE SOUND.

DETECTION OF TEMPERATURE FLUCTUATIONS (DID DO IT (INTUITION)

SMWC: YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH CHANCE, NOT HOPE BUT WHEN YOU DO, YOU IMMEDIATELY REGRET IT BY THOUGHT BUT YOU DON’T CURSE THE WAY YOU LIVED BEFORE AND AFTER YOU THOUGHT OF ME AFTER THE SONG CONTINUED (YOUR WONDER)

SH: YOU HATE NOT TRYING TO PERSUADE PATRICULARLY TAYLOR SWIFT ON THE SAME PLANE OF THOUGHT IF CHASING WAS DEEMED AN ART OF REVELRY WHEN YOU NEVER THOUGHT THER WASN'T ANYTHING DEEPER TO DO THAN JUST WHINE, YOU HATE THAT. AND SO BE IT (ENDS MUSIC COMPLETELY)

SH8: NO REGARDS INTO WHY MUSIC AND RELIGION CAN ALTER YOUR LIFE FOREVER (KEPT YOUR CALM)

SAUDI: I LOVED YOU AS LONG AS I CAN NEVER KNOW (HENCE THE SONG)

The Cow (2:218)

إِنَّ ٱلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا۟ وَٱلَّذِينَ هَاجَرُوا۟ وَجَـٰهَدُوا۟ فِى سَبِيلِ ٱللَّهِ أُو۟لَـٰٓئِكَ يَرْجُونَ رَحْمَتَ ٱللَّهِ ۚ وَٱللَّهُ غَفُورٌۭ رَّحِيمٌۭ ٢١٨

Surely those who have believed, emigrated, and struggled in the Way of Allah—they can hope for Allah’s mercy. And Allah is All-Forgiving, Most Merciful.

THEORY: A SUMMARY OF THE MAJOR PERSONALITY THEORIES

Trait: depth is sacrificed for trust, so i don't even know what it's like to think like a reason than i do with might, so i talk but you always see 'him' (justified) which is why the song is liked by your movement (socially) so at my expense, i knew which ones (from my album) are going to see the light at the most validity of my own than a personal experience in the sheets (written by a virgin) so i know why i knew to keep my virginity in a story meant for me is rich intuition without the coins attached to paper whining about life won by a pun grown expanded by a feeling than a theory, so i knew why i talked too much to remember, so i'm asking you that same question, 'nobody but my life, i will not try' is controversial opinion to you in actual reality if i caught the stars in my wonder if anything i know about my world become, so i don't find a lie easily than you speaking the truth is lust lost (i have my own language, so i keep it all in a baggage of knowledge attained if i had no journeys to spend my boredom and then it's an interview in a coffee escape (no more songs about that)

Psycho-biological: you cannot be afraid of 'one last chance' if i can't tell you what to do anymore, this is not your life nor your song, so my sexuality is you if i never left, so this is not my last goodbye (intuition travelling by hopes of a hafiz (qur'anic) made to establish a freedom journey in the form of lost friends IQ being too pure to save the world (Stephen Hawking's immunity) so you're not able to comply the chances of being a heartbroken asshole either if you're still looking, i have a grudge

Social learning: you're made to be capable and impactful by a reason to be (why i'm famous) so i have a reason to be at a strong limit to overcome and find love without matters talking, so i have a reason to drive in the matter in being and in an open congregation of minds to bone in bones to minds thats why i cannot find out about the world the hard way, so it's better if i never stood the same dream to believe in the ways of my last hands is why i walk in known shakes to forgive and feel (i am not my hands) so i don't fall in love because hands don't do with that kind of autonomy in listening to feel is lips to pressure is why i hate being in love with love like that

Psycho-dynamic: this does not stop me from forgiving, so you knew why i let the instrument feel your way in than draw you out is because of my phobia notice being felt in thin air (why you're alive) is the disturbed understanding of intuition (why i see myself last) is that i hate forgiving and doing is the lies congealed about me looking for the truth is my own mind is you having 'sex' with it understood is your germs to contain origin of mankind (why you're all virgins) i don't hate you all, but i hate you all (why i'm funny)

humanistic: you suck at living and i teach you, but i don't is why the melody in your head does not control the social radio if fame hearty is how i got rich quick by belief and not capitalist support weaned off britain than anywhere else (stranded there) so i cannot stand (achy feet) and i can talk (why i hate my mom for not telling me all this sooner (forgive her) so i don't communicate unless you want to (ends enmeshed families) so this is why i hate hate to be in love (ASD) and why you don't (having boundaries count harder than my will to live is mankind being God is why i'm you (look at me in person, jackass) and i have (why i'm too good. appreciate me) so appreciate my love letters before calls interrupt your favourite phobia being in the form of why i sucker ass your punches to new hell high (virgo-awkward social radio) and no djinns (you'll die cuz of your ugly baby dysmorphia phallien created in your music eat bitch titties (your grandma) and i disturb you unprovoked (surah-al-butcher roo in your ass)

COMPARISON JOURNEY: SONGWRITERS

spontaneous remission: i like you a little too much, so here is nothing exporting everything (learn about that from TV)

history: you make it up as you go along by listening to your logic play with you, so i'll ask you the same question as you go along and you realise all that you were is that you think and you are and so good is that you'll never be but do and you did and it turned out ok. (you did great that you did not need the fear to die to release it, just leave it)

cyclical nature of some disorders: contagion is in obsession of your favourite thing (why) and you follow that to no earth (you have levels in your music is why you love always)

self-limiting nature of disorder episodes: you're terrified by my speech in your head that i know what you're up to than i know why you're up to knowing me at the same time

DEPTH NO LAW KNOWN:

placebo effects: you cannot stop the clock even if you're assaulted to know the time is why sex always exists

novelty effects: sexual mitigation is found by your earth alone (why he exists) and is prone to touch prone feeling alone (you are your own friend)

effort justification: death is sex.

HONOUR IS A GRAVEYARD: VIEW OF RELIGION-

selective memory for client outcome: change is chance unless proceeded with, so it's spoken with a death of an eye before change chanced her (luck)

maturation: sight is dead told but dead alone if you never knew heart, so it speaks against it so the odds of being lonely is found out the hard way knowing what it's like to live a fantasy than being thought out of the world like as if you were a known storyteller in a scientist being an 'anything' to loose lose into heaven like you never made love

test-retest artifacts: your hands were cold so much that i can't afford to heal you is your own heat healing you by cold scary notices of your own world in the dark is the absence of stars (why you like the subject)

antecedent conditions: chance is hate now in 2025

selective mutism: you can never rely on the world without shutting everybody up than living that nasty intuitive gut wrenching sparing costs than finding that one single note in loving than living it, so it's clearly good for the world for anyone with eating disorders finding that feeling to stay with (actually a thing) to live and let go of their past (actually being in an enmeshed family) in finding love in song (partner) or just finding company to drag you on by like a dream in living than peace fought alone (together emanicipation of the world at one cost than one life lost)

moral realism: judged dreams hard enough to fight it, so who's law are you upsetting more than the remedy to find love in a battle than a hopeless place is your place to find common virtue believed at one cost is a living statement in trust so, you're going to die one day and this song proves it

phonological dyslexia: escapism is sound so trust is hardening than knowing meets the eye is touch prone broken realism of the songwriter's past (truth intuition of a story journey from birth after all: who's daughter she truly is that makes the effort (worth it)

control of speech: imitate her life to live it and you're made to be in the right hands (conveyor belt association realism) is the truth is pessimistic tries in a hard life wife determination (how i do in bed is none of your business)

phonetic reading is damaged: keys hate you than you back to me, so who are you talking to that has an earth-like response to me than you (songwriter's barakaat)

memory: you find what feels true to you and you let go, so i know what you did that made me feel good about trying is about when you're allowed to find that reason in thinking if you cannot do it, then who will

reasoning: impaired reasons to forgive is death alone, i cannot walk away from that even if i could then i cannot fall alone if i always wanted to, so it truthfully answers the song unbroken by demi lovato which she covered my song back in 2008 by shams al-ma'araf as a present for me in 17 years from then (exactly how she wanted to find me is by law of the world made when i released Nomad (she knew) so she may never find it yet (predicted journey to me by nostradamus)

spatial visualisation: you cannot try and make me forgive you by world of law when there is no reason (someone told you that along the way) and you were (truth is me) i don't lie

speed: harm is nothing but the lanes of one is why i say, try a million, it's your dream after all. i just ease you along the way, hence why it's my sincerest passion hobby of them all is known by you (my truth is you is why i'm autistic (jonathan groff invented it): rogue at last (episode in doctor who came true: his dream is the sight of me)

memory decline: your touch is something i never deserved (depth is cause cost for column casualty of the using misnomer, so you may never know my name)

munari's footpaths: stars emit a haze in the field's way of change is how heartbreaking sucker punches are to the middle eyes of nothing is how hard we're trying to remove our noses is our last chance to stand alone is why we always had them (why we cannot truly see: Mayfair said that)

tancredi's visualisations: you see a rhythm and you hate seeing to saw why you care is that you find yourself forgiving the life after you died than before it is knowing you're broken everywhere but here, so why is the point, fall in love. idc

gropius's degree of hatred: segments fall in love is stupidity anyways, you may as well just hell the cause of the motion than sexualise the lyric for profit prophets, innovation is the invention of mankind, you may as well make Christian Slater take the role and see fit the first world is artistry alone is why you're 'raped', stop complaining, jeez.

commissural fibres: you fake it to make it is how getting lost is the easiest way in through the activity of heartbreak, so laughter penetrates the cost to live is worth living, so well done

corpus callosum: you wrote your name, and thats the hardest thing anybody has ever done, thought, remembered and forgotten, so you dreamed hard enough to find space and theory in feeling is the theory in why your name is exalted to find peace in a place like this so hard that my name belonged right next to you, and thats what i always wanted

[faithyolt]

You Only Live Twice

Characters: Chris Evans x OFC, OFC x Channing Tatum

Raiting: Mature (is not safe for minors, please, find something else to read)

Warnings: none yet

Destiny gives second chances, but are they worth it?

In 2008, during the premiere of Street Kings , Chris Evans met Faith Addams, a radiant young British actress who left an indelible mark on his memory. They spent hours talking and flirting, but when Chris was called back to fulfill his social obligations, she disappeared—taking with her an opportunity that never came to fruition.

Fifteen years later, they meet again on the set of These Boots Are Made For Walking , a musical about the life of Nancy Sinatra. Now, their lives have taken completely different paths: Chris is a married and established actor, while Faith is an international star who has faced her own emotional challenges. Yet, the chemistry between them still burns intensely, awakening feelings they thought they had long buried.

But something strange begins to happen to Chris. Between long shooting days and moments of exhaustion, he starts having vivid dreams about that night in 2008—only this time, he makes different choices. In his dreams, he stays with Faith, living an alternate life that feels painfully real. These visions begin to seep into his waking mind, blurring the line between reality and desire.

As he navigates the complexities of his current life and the rekindled feelings for Faith, Chris finds himself facing an unsettling question: does destiny truly offer second chances? Or is he merely chasing a fantasy he can never attain?

You Only Live Twice is a poignant story about lost love, difficult choices, and the power of "what if." Between the world of dreams and harsh reality, Chris and Faith will discover that some connections run so deep they transcend time—but that doesn’t mean they come without sacrifice.

A/N: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real-life public figures. While I’ve chosen to use the names and references of well-known actors, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of portraying their personal lives accurately or intrusively. My goal is to create a fictional narrative that explores universal themes like love, fate, and regret, using these figures purely as artistic inspiration.

I don’t claim to have any insider knowledge about their private lives, and this story isn’t meant to offend or disrespect anyone.

I understand that not everyone feels comfortable with this type of writing, but I hope those who choose to dive into this journey can enjoy it for what it is.

Thanks for understanding, and I hope you enjoy the ride!

A/N2: In this story, Faith Addams will be described in terms of physical appearance. While this isn’t something I usually do in my writing, it felt like the right choice for this particular fic. Her look plays a role in how the characters interact and perceive each other, so I decided to include these details to add depth to the story.

Chapter 1

Chris POV I spotted her the moment I walked into the room—her back was turned to me as she chatted with Daniel and Baz Luhrmann, our director. It was the first cast meeting for a script read-through, and I couldn’t quite shake the nerves building in my chest. The room buzzed with quiet energy, everyone sipping coffee or flipping through their scripts, but all I could focus on was her silhouette against the morning light streaming through the windows.

It had been so long since we’d met, and while I knew she wouldn’t remember me, that didn’t stop my stomach from doing somersaults at the thought of seeing her again. My mind raced back to that night—the premiere of Street Kings . She’d been radiant then, even in the dim glow of the theater lobby, her laughter cutting through the noise like a melody you can’t forget. We’d talked for hours over drinks, sharing stories about our lives and careers. I’d been more drunk than I should’ve been, trying to split my attention between everyone in the room, and by the time I went looking for her again, she was gone. For weeks afterward, I kept hoping our paths would cross again, but I heard she’d returned to London.

She stayed on my list of “most beautiful women I’ve ever seen” for a long time… not because I was obsessed or anything, but because there was something about her that lingered in my memory. Maybe it was the way she tilted her head when she laughed, or how her voice softened when she spoke passionately about films she loved. Whatever it was, I couldn’t shake it off completely—even after years of telling myself it didn’t matter.

Working alongside her now wasn’t something I’d expected, but a lot has changed since then. I’m a married man, older and (supposedly) wiser. This is purely professional—a chance to share the screen with someone incredibly talented and stunning. That’s all.

As one of the producers of the film, I’d been part of the casting process, and I could confidently say she earned her spot long before anyone asked for my opinion. We needed someone who could dance, sing, and act—someone equally comfortable portraying both romance and comedy. Faith ticked every box and then some. She flew all the way from London to Los Angeles for an audition that could’ve easily been done online, just to show how serious she was about the role. When I watched her tapes, I was struck by how effortlessly she commanded the screen. Her performance wasn’t just technically flawless—it was magnetic. There was this raw authenticity in her expressions, this vulnerability that made you want to watch her over and over again.

Now, finally, we’d have a chance to talk again.

When I approached the trio, Daniel noticed me first and turned to greet me. We’d worked together on Knives Out a few years back, and I knew this project would be just as fun—if not more so. After exchanging a quick hug, I greeted Baz, who gave me his usual warm smile before I turned to her.

“Ms. Addams,” I said, extending my hand, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Oh, please, Faith.” She grinned, shaking my hand firmly. Her grip was confident, yet there was a softness in her eyes that caught me off guard. “Nice to see you, Chris.”

“I watched your audition tapes, and honestly…” I paused, letting a small smirk form as I tried to mask my nerves. “…it’s a pleasure having you here.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” she replied smoothly, gesturing around the room. “Look at these guys—you, and where’s Sophia? I absolutely adore her on IT ; she’s going to be amazing as Mia Farrow!”

Baz chuckled, glancing at Chris. “Faith was worried it wouldn’t be easy to make herself look twenty-five for the younger scenes.” He winked. “But here she is, pulling it off even without the makeup team.”

Faith rolled her eyes good-naturedly, her laugh filling the space between us. “Flattery will get you the happiest actress around, I swear.”

Just then, the lighting director approached Baz with questions about the new equipment, and he excused himself. Daniel followed suit, stepping aside to call his wife, leaving Faith and me alone in the room.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, exactly, but it carried a weight I couldn’t quite place. Finally, Faith broke it.

“It’s really a pleasure to work with everyone—and to see you again,” she said, her tone light but tinged with something deeper.

“It’s been so long!” My voice softened almost involuntarily, nostalgia creeping in despite my best efforts to stay composed. “What has it been? More than fifteen years? And you look exactly the same.”

“It’s Botox,” she deadpanned, raising an eyebrow playfully. “You don’t want to see me when it wears off.”

I raised an eyebrow right back. “I bet. You must look hideous.”

We both laughed, but beneath the surface, there was an unspoken tension lingering—a reminder of the past we never fully explored and the future we were about to dive into together.

As the others began filtering back into the room, I realized I hadn’t stopped glancing at her. Every movement, every word seemed deliberate yet natural, like she belonged exactly where she was. I told myself to focus—to remind myself why we were here—but deep down, I couldn’t ignore the pull I felt toward her. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be simple.

Flashback – Premiere de Street Kings (2008)

The hallway was dimly lit, the faint hum of conversation and clinking glasses spilling out from the main room. I leaned against the wall, my tie slightly loosened, a glass of whiskey in one hand. I’d been nursing it—or rather, downing it—for the past hour, trying to navigate the sea of introductions and small talk. The premiere had been a blur of faces and names, but there was one face I couldn’t stop thinking about: hers.

When she finally emerged from the restroom, her hair catching the soft glow of the corridor lights, I straightened up instinctively. She looked… radiant. Even more so than before.

“Faith,” I said, my voice slurring slightly as I pushed off the wall and stumbled toward her. “There you are.”

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Here I am. Are you okay?”

“I’m… fantastic,” I replied, though my unsteady footing suggested otherwise. I took a step closer, closing the gap between us. “You know, I’ve been looking for you...”

“Oh, really?” Her tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “I thought you were busy networking with everyone else.”

“I was,” I admitted, waving my glass vaguely. “But none of them are as interesting as you.”

Before she could respond, I leaned in suddenly, my free hand brushing against her arm as I pressed my lips to hers. It was clumsy and fueled by alcohol, but there was an undeniable intensity behind it—a fleeting moment of raw emotion that caught us both off guard.

For a second, she didn’t pull away. Then, gently but firmly, she placed her hands on my chest and pushed me back.

“Chris,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “What are you doing?”

I blinked, shaking my head as if trying to clear it. “I… I just…” I gestured vaguely, my words tumbling out in a jumble. “I needed to do that. Before I go back out there.”

“Go back out where?”

“To the crowd. The premiere. I need to keep talking to people, you know? Trying to get noticed.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “But I’ll come find you later. Promise.”

Faith studied me for a moment, her expression thoughtful but warm. “Alright, Chris. I’ll be here.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway, staring after her.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the party was winding down and the crowd had thinned, that I realized I never did find her again.

Faith POV

Two days before meeting the rest of the cast, I landed in New York with my assistant and best friend, Summer. The driver was already waiting for us outside baggage claim.

“The car is ready. Do you need anything before we head to the hotel?” Summer asked, glancing at me as we walked toward the exit.

“No, I just want to stretch my legs… take a shower. We could go for a walk later if you’re not too tired.”

“I just need to eat something,” Summer replied, distractedly responding to the driver while keeping an eye on the luggage carousel. A teenage girl suddenly appeared, visibly excited to see me.

“Hey, hi. Sorry, I don’t mean to bother… I’m just such a big fan. Would it be okay to take a picture with you?”

“Oh, sure, honey, come here,” I said warmly, pulling the girl into a quick hug for the photo.

“I love your movies! Thank you so much for the pic!” the girl gushed, smiling ear to ear.

“Thank you, sweetie,” I replied kindly, watching as the girl ran off to rejoin her friends.

I turned back to find Summer struggling with the bags. I quickly moved to help, and together we made our way to the car. The drive to the hotel was smooth, the city lights reflecting off the windows as we chatted casually about the upcoming project.

When we arrived at the Hard Rock Hotel New York, we were immediately directed to a VIP check-in desk.

“Ms. Addams, welcome to Hard Rock New York. It’s a pleasure to have you here again,” the concierge greeted me warmly.

“The pleasure is all mine,” I replied with a polite smile.

“We are aware that your room of choice is the Platinum Suite, but our manager has offered an upgrade to the Rock Star Suite as a compliment for your new role.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s so sweet!” I said, genuinely touched by the gesture.

“And as requested, Mrs. Halliwell will stay in the Deluxe King Room.”

“Oh no, I’m in the Classic,” Summer interjected.

“Ms. Addams made the upgrade, ma’am,” the concierge explained.

We let the bellboy handle our bags and thanked the staff before heading to the elevators.

“Do you need me, or can I go to my room?” Summer teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, please. I know you’re dying to see the Rock Star Suite!” I laughed.

“I am, but I do have some self-control and can wait,” Summer shot back playfully.

“You can stay with me if you want. It’s a two-level suite—I don’t need all that space.”

“Have you been there?” Summer asked curiously.

“Didn’t I tell you? Yeah, I stayed there with Channing the last time we were in New York,” I admitted, a hint of nostalgia creeping into my voice.

“Ohhh. Well, no, you’re single now, and hopefully, you’ll be taking some new guy to your amazing suite…” Summer joked, nudging me.

“Absolutely not. I have too much work to focus on,” I replied firmly, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in my tone.

Summer studied me for a moment, then sighed. “Sometimes I feel like you’ll never give anyone else a chance again.”

“You know it’s not that… Channing just set the bar really high,” I said softly, avoiding Summer’s gaze.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a corridor adorned with iconic rock star memorabilia. We followed the bellboy to the suite, and when we stepped inside, both of us gasped.

The Rock Star Suite was breathtaking. A grand living area with luxurious furniture dominated the first floor, including floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of Manhattan. Upstairs, the master bedroom featured a king-sized bed draped in silk sheets and surrounded by heavy velvet curtains and a great picture of Sinatra on the wall.

“Wow, this is incredible!” Summer exclaimed, already snapping photos on her phone.

I wandered onto the huge balcony, leaning against the railing as I took in the cityscape below. New York was alive, pulsing with energy, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of excitement. But beneath the surface, there was also a lingering sense of nostalgia.

“You know I’m not here to meet someone,” I said finally, turning to Summer. “I’m here for the role. This is the biggest challenge of my career so far.”

“I know that,” Summer replied, crossing her arms. “And nobody deserves this moment more than you. I just don’t want you to get so lost in work that you forget to live. Remember what Channing used to say? ‘Take breaks to breathe.’”

I chuckled softly. “Yeah, he’d say that whenever I obsessed over rehearsals or stayed late on set trying to perfect a scene. Sometimes he’d wake me up with some special breakfast because I’d fallen asleep without dinner.”

“And he’d tease you for being such a perfectionist,” Summer added, smiling at the memory.

We shared a quiet laugh, but there was an underlying melancholy. I knew Summer had a point—I needed to find balance again. Still, something inside me resisted the idea of opening my heart to someone new.

After unpacking, I decided to take a quick shower to freshen up. As the warm water cascaded over me, I allowed my mind to wander. I thought about the script for These Boots Are Made For Walking , the long conversations I’d had with Baz Luhrmann during the audition process, and the immense responsibility of portraying Nancy Sinatra across different stages of her life. It was as much an emotional challenge as it was a physical one—singing, dancing, and acting simultaneously would demand everything I had.

When I emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a plush robe, I found Summer lounging on the couch with room service spread out on the coffee table. We were about to dig in when my phone buzzed on the counter. It was a message from Baz:

“Hope you’re enjoying the suite. See you at lunch tomorrow to discuss some early scenes. Chris Evans and Daniel Craig are in New York already, but I would like to see you first.”

I frowned slightly as I read the message. Chris Evans. I already knew the names of all the cast members working in this movie, but still… His name stirred something within me, though I couldn’t quite place why. We’d met briefly years ago, but that encounter had left an indelible mark on my memory. At the time, I’d been young and impressionable, nervous about attending the premiere mostly to meet Keanu Reeves. When Chris approached me, however, I felt something unexpected—chemistry? I wasn’t sure.

Now, all these years later, we’d be working together. I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought. “Chris Evans,” I murmured to myself. “This is going to be interesting.”

“What was that?” Summer asked, looking up from her plate.

“Nothing,” I replied quickly, forcing a smile. “Just thinking aloud.”

But deep down, I knew there was more to it than mere coincidence. Something in the air hinted that this collaboration would be more complicated—and perhaps more meaningful—than either of us could imagine.

More A/N: Please, let me know what you think. I truly want to know your opinions.