#i forgot it existed though and finished watching yesterday

[careyyss]

guess who finally watched ALNST

[snowfieldstories]

In Life and Death [Chapter 6]

Kim Dokja x Reader/Original female character

<< Series masterlist

Warnings: violence and language

AN: I finished this, posted it on ao3...then forgot to post here SORRY!

Summary:

In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel of a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right epilogue to her beloved character, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️

Episode V. Chapter 6 — Reapers and Revelations

Three messages taunted us soon after defeating the theater master.

[Main Scenario #3 — Emergency Defense has ended.]

[You have obtained 1,000 coins as compensation.]

[The fourth main scenario is about to begin!]

"It hasn't even been ten minutes," groaned Jihye. "Can't we get a break?"

Dokja stretched his arm that had taken the brunt of the fall when he was punched earlier. "Actually, Jihye, I need you to watch Yoo Joonghyuk. Stay here with him until he wakes. And please inform me when he wakes up...I want to give him a few more hits."

His eyes slid to me at his last words, then back to Jihye. She nodded and took up a position watching over Joonghyuk. I picked up Gilyoung, who had fallen into a deep sleep soon after wishing on the meteor shower. He curled against my chest, murmuring.

Dokja, Heewon, Namwoon, and I made our way down. The dungeon had become a regular theater once again.

No one felt like speaking. Heewon twisted her loose locks aimlessly around her finger as she was lost in thought; Dokja lugged the shield for Hyunsung, tapping along the rim; Namwoon, I watched the closest, seemed to be dragging his feet, a slight droop to his shoulders.

Dokja's steps faltered, then his face flipped between reactions, like he was having a conversation. Bihyung was talking to him. This, I knew, because I had reread that part only yesterday.

I nudged into Dokja to catch his attention. "You can say anything about that novel and it should filter, even for Bihyung," I said in a soft voice.

The dokkaebi in question immediately popped into existence, right in front of my face. I heard Heewon yell and unsheathe her new sword.

[I've had enough. What the hell are you?]

Though he was rather cute in his still-small size, the force of his voice overwhelmed my senses at such a close distance. I had to activate my rationality skill to quell my fighting instincts.

I looked to my three companions, equally alert and tense beside me. "It's fine. Go down to the platform, and I'll catch up."

Dokja's hard expression turned from Bihyung to me. "No way."

"You need to be there for the next scenario, Dokja." His face cracked with the hesitation, so I pushed. "Take Chungmuro. Gong Pildu is under contract, yes? Then the station is yours. You can follow the King's Road before Joonghyuk."

At Heewon's concerned glance at the sleeping boy in my arms, I set him gently by the wall. "Gilyoung will be safer up here for the time being."

Dokja made a noise somewhere between frustration and acceptance.

"...Fine. Come on, Heewon-ssi, Namwoon." Dokja's eyes flitted between me and Bihyung, and I knew what his meaningful glance was telling me:

Be careful.

We seemed to be making the phrase into a new habit.

I stopped Namwoon with a hand on his shoulder. The other two had gone on downstairs, but I still whispered.

"There will be a flag, and Dokja must take it. He should have things handled with Gong Pildu, but if anyone else gets dangerously close—I want you to kill them."

Namwoon nodded, his head hung low as he wouldn't meet my eyes. Then he left.

[You...what are you?]

I looked at Bihyung. We had not yet spoken directly like this in the current turn. "I am an incarnation."

[You're not normal.]

"What do you think I am?"

[Ha. I don't know what to think. That's why I asked.]

Bihyung shook. Whether it was in fury or fear was yet to be determined, but neither one was very good for me. His red eyes were twin pools of magma eager to burn me.

I tried a different track. "I could tell you. But the constellations will anger with you if this conversation is also filtered."

His teeth bared in a horrific grin.

[Luckily, there are more exciting things happening down below. I've closed off this part of the channel.]

My face was carefully neutral, but inside I was reeling. Could he do that in the novel? Not for the first time, I cursed not having the crazy ability to recall minute details of a novel like Kim Dokja. The only things I could remember were times when Bihyung used ads to block conversations with Dokja; but it made sense that he could control the channel video feed as well. I tucked away this important information to use in the future.

For now, I was alone.

"Let's speak freely then. This is my second turn at life." I crossed my arms.

[A returner?]

Bihyung's eyes popped. Whatever he had expected, it must not have been that.

[Shit. That's good, right? More excitement to stir up entertainment. No...she could ruin my growing channel with her knowledge, shit. What to do, what to do...]

I snapped my fingers at the mumbling dokkaebi. "Hey. Listen. Kill me and you will have the wrath of certain powerful constellations down your toga. I think you know who."

[...]

"And," I said, arching my brow. "In my last turn your channel was weak. Uninteresting. Already in this turn, you've exploded in growth more than in nearly twenty scenarios before. You need variables like me."

Bihyung watched me for a long time. Then he let out a screech like a rusty bike tire—his laugh.

[You and Kim Dokja are one and the same. Is he a returner, too?]

I shrugged.

[...I didn't expect you to tell me anyways. So, I suppose you want to make a deal with me?]

"No. Just leave me be."

At that, Bihyung crackled with energy. Definitely fury this time.

[How arrogant. A mere incarnation, giving ME a demand.]

"You said it yourself. I'm not a normal incarnation."

[The exclusive skill 'Sacred Light Lv. 6' has been activated!]

I had leveled up after the fight with the theater master.

In a flash, ribbons of light slithered towards Bihyung. He shouted as they suspended him in place, wrapping around his body in pretty gold stripes.

"I killed plenty of constellations in my last turn. If I could kill a constellation, then how easy would it be to kill a low-level dokkaebi?"

Level six wasn't the best, but it was sufficiently strong for a lower dokkaebi like Bihyung. My mana was the real hurdle.

"But I don't want to kill you. In fact, I quite like you, Bihyung. I think you'll be a great help to us in the future; perhaps even a friend."

My light twisted, tightening and shaping around the seething dokkaebi. I wanted to take advantage of this private conversation.

"This sacred light was given to me by Mother. Do you know who my Mother is? My sponsor?"

[...No.]

Interesting. So she was still a mystery to him in this world-turn, too. "I want to keep it that way. Please redirect any comments or questions about her from other constellations, and send them to me. Actually, scrub out her name, while you're at it."

[I thought you didn't want a deal.]

"I don't. Think of this as a friendly exchange."

Bihyung scoffed. It sounded ridiculous, but I was confident. Even more so as I used fifty accumulated luck from my skill, 'Bank of Lady Fortune.'

[Withdrawal successful. You now have: 47/500 luck.]

"In return, I'll do my best to avoid talking about my status as a returner. Then there will be no censoring, no outraged constellations down your throat."

Gilyoung snored loudly in the silence that followed.

[I...keuuk...okay. I'll do it. Can you release the bindings now?]

"They're not bindings."

Bihyung looked down to find a giant golden bow atop his stomach. Two more adorned each of his little horns. It was terribly cute.

I couldn't help a small chuckle as I released my skill. "You make a lovely present."

[You really—huh?! Oh, nothing to worry—apologies, dear constellations—ah, yes, I've fixed the issue now. It's back on. Ahaha. See?]

Bihyung gave me one last, inscrutable glance before he zapped away. I picked Gilyoung back up and continued down.

"Hm, maybe I was too harsh with him..."

I wanted Bihyung to think well of me. I wasn't lying when I said I liked him; I did, very much so. But it was a bit early in the story to befriend a dokkaebi.

Though I had used luck, it really only worked in this situation because Bihyung was waffling between decisions to begin with. Had he been hellbent on killing me, or refusing the favor, my luck would have been powerless.

Well, it worked out in the end. Hopefully my sponsor would be satisfied.

The Mother of Divine Desire.

The reality was...I didn't know much more about her than Bihyung. What little we had communicated in the last round was mainly about me and my development as an incarnation. She always brushed off any questions about herself.

In fact, I didn't know if Mother would approve of my actions just now. Perhaps she would be furious. But I had to trust in her—she had chosen me, so she must believe in my judgment and methods.

Blind faith was not something I excelled at. But she had proven a faith in me, so for that, I must try.

Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, a ping alerted me to the latest development.

['Kim Dokja' has claimed the 'white' flag!]

I smiled.

"Take the flag! There's only five minutes!"

Hyunsung grabbed his new shield and protected Dokja and the others from the Landlord Alliance. I kicked a rock in between the two sides.

"Gong Pildu-ssi, Kim Dokja will be our representative."

All eyes swiveled to me. Sangah called out my name, and I entrusted her with the still-sleeping Gilyoung.

"Yeona," Gong Pildu said. "Where have you been? Do you know what this sly bastard and his accomplices—?!"

As Gong Pildu struggled to get up, I caught the dirty imprint of a boot on his back. I turned to Dokja just as he ordered Gong Pildu to stay down. "Keep your head to the floor and your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise."

"Dokja! You didn't need to step on him."

His lips thinned, annoyed. "I didn't see him down there."

"Sure you didn't." I rolled my eyes.

"What, not happy I beat up your father?" he said with a touch too much snark.

Hyunsung lowered his shield as I approached. "Father?" I heard Heewon ask from the back. My finger poked the hard bulletproof vest on Dokja's chest.

"You have the command," I spoke quietly. "Now it's time to gather more people to your side...pretending to be cruel won't help your case."

Dokja seemed to really consider my words. He nodded once, then ordered Gong Pildu to get up and move freely—but still unable to take the flag.

I was satisfied and went over to help Gong Pildu to his feet.

"You're a lovesick fool, girl," he muttered, and my ears felt hot. What was with these people and their bloodhound abilities to sniff out my emotions? Or was I truly that transparent?

"You don't approve?" I tried teasing, but it came out a bit weak.

He scowled. "Certainly not. He's trouble; you can do far better."

"Don't worry, it's one-sided, anyways."

Gong Pildu gave me a scrutinizing look, almost like he was trying to figure out if I was joking, then he brushed his clothes free of dust and walked away. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "if only."

Before I could call him back to ask, my attention was drawn back to the current sub-scenario.

"Choose whether you'll stay here, under me, or leave Chungmuro," said Dokja, his voice ringing out.

The other people of Chungmuro station, Alliance members and random strangers alike, began shouting their doubts and questions at Dokja. He answered each one calmly and with ease. "...Oh, don't mind Gong Pildu. That guy belongs to me, now!"

At a sharp look from me, he amended the statement. "I just mean he's under strict control."

[The sub-scenario has ended.]

In the end, only three men left Chungmuro station. Twenty-eight remained.

Based on Dokja's click of the tongue as he read Star Stream messages, I summarised that he still didn't have enough credibility to earn the "king" title.

[Well then, let's begin the main game.]

Bihyung zeroed in on me as he snapped his fingers.

[The fourth main scenario has been activated!]

I read the clear conditions for capture the flag. It was the exact same as in the novel; I had been worried Bihyung might change up the details of this one, as revenge for my bold...threats. Yeah, I was kind of threatening towards him.

But Bihyung wished us luck and vanished from the room as fast as he came.

The group broke into discussion about the main scenario, and I saw Dokja go talk to Gong Pildu. I went over to sit by Namwoon, who was staring off at the grimy wall opposite him.

"Thank you for keeping watch earlier," I told Namwoon.

His expression only clouded over more. "I didn't do anything. I didn't help."

I sensed his turmoil and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Namwoon, was it too much of me to ask for you to possibly kill those people?"

"No," he said quickly. "I don't care about that."

"Then what...?"

"Noona." I was alarmed as his red eyes became wobbly with unshed tears.

I wrapped my arm around him as he clutched his knees. "No 'angel'?" I tried.

"I don't deserve to call you that," he choked out. "I attacked you—you got hurt because of me—"

So it was that. My hand moved to pet his hair; it was surprisingly soft for how spiky it appeared. "If you want forgiveness, then of course I forgive you. But you don't need it. The theater master was controlling your mind—you did nothing wrong."

"But I wanted to hurt you." His voice was rough. Troubled. "I felt it."

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' looks upon his incarnation with sorrow.]

I pushed his head back to look him directly in the eye. "Kim Namwoon. The theater master twists minds. Sure, you're a violent kid, sometimes to the extreme, and maybe you're a delusional demon...and you're most definitely a chuunibyou and otaku. But none of that makes you a villain who likes hurting his companions." I flicked his forehead lightly. "Plus, I like all those things about you."

"Y—you do?"

"Of course. Why do you think I took you in that day on the train?" I smiled. "I wanted that badass, nerdy kid on my team."

Namwoon nuzzled against my hand, eyes closed, almost purring with content. "I'm not a nerd, though," he mumbled.

There was a cough nearby.

Dokja looked rather unimpressed. I gestured from him to the younger boy, and mouthed, say something nice.

With a pained grimace, he said, reluctantly, "Kim Namwoon, you fight well."

...Are you serious? My thoughts flattened in disbelief, and it must have shown on my face because Dokja heaved a great sigh and said, "And it's good that you're with us."

Despite the questionable quality (and sincerity) of the compliments, they made Namwoon perk up. "I am insanely strong, aren't I? And I'll grow even stronger with a dragon as my sire." It was such a chuuni thing to say that I had to cough to hide my laugh. "Stronger than you, too, ahjussi, just you wait."

Then Namwoon tore away from my side and raced down the hall, cackling with a newfound determination.

"I—I am not that old!"

I hid my smile at the offense on Dokja's face. "He's been spending too much time around Lee Jihye, it seems."

"These damn kids," said Dokja without any real ire, but sounding very much like an old ahjussi.

This time I let my laughter ring out freely.

"I don't understand why you like him so much," said Dokja. There was a pinch between his brows, a contempt that seemed directed inwards, and perhaps he was thinking of how similar the two of them were. A sear went through my chest. I knew of his self-loathing, but it was heartbreaking to witness for real. I didn't know what to say without revealing my intimate knowledge of him.

"I think he's worthy of being our companion," I finally responded. "And he has a good heart. Uh...even with his craziness."

Dokja stared at me, a peculiar expression on his face.

VROOM! VROOM, VROOOM!

We leapt down onto the train tracks in time to see a group of men and women hop off their motorbikes. Dokja raised his sword.

"Stop there. Put down your weapons."

A gentle-looking man stepped into the light, hands raised. "We didn't come for a fight."

"Then why did you come?"

"Well, first I should introduce myself. I'm Kang Ilhun from the Dongdaemun Group."

Dokja was sharp, calculating, as he studied Kang Ilhun. "Kim Dokja."

"Kim Dokja-ssi..." Something flashed in Kang Ilhun's face. "We are here to offer an alliance."

After more back and forth with the Dongdaemun Group, Dokja, Heewon, Sangah, Hyunsung, and I broke away to form a quick plan. "...and Hyunsung-ssi will stay here with Gong Pildu to protect—"

"No," I interjected, remembering what was to come. "I'll stay, and Hyunsung will join you all."

They moved to leave, but I sought Dokja's attention one last time.

"Come back quickly." The gravity in my voice drew a furrow to his brows, but I urged him on ahead.

I then went to Gong Pildu after they had left. "Set up your private property on this floor. As wide as you can make it. We're going to need your turrets soon."

He did as I asked. In the meantime, I moved Gilyoung to a better-shielded corner to continue sleeping. Namwoon was still off somewhere, but I figured the sound of fighting would draw him back eventually.

That was when the Myeongdong Group attacked.

[Someone has invaded private property!]

"What are these bastards—!" Gong Pildu raged as his skills activated.

"Gain control later! I just need to put the flag in and it will be over," shouted a man with a red 'Myeongdong' flag tied around his head. He buffed his teammates with the power of the red flag.

I killed a few that attacked me, as bullets from Gong Pildu's turrets streamed past my head.

"Hahahaha look at these weaklings?!"

Namwoon had returned in full glory, and now hacked away at the nearest intruders. I sent an arrow to pierce the back of one that swung too close to Namwoon while he was turned.

He looked at the arrow with renewed interest. "Angel-noona, when I steal their flag...can I have my kiss on the cheek?"

As he spoke, Gong Pildu's turrets blasted at the Myeongdong Group. I wasn't given the chance to respond.

"RETREAT!" someone shouted.

Their leader jumped down to the train tracks, his men following, and before Namwoon could leap after them a great flame erupted. Screams were drowned out by the firing of Gong Pildu's turrets gunning them down.

The smoke cleared, and a red flag floated to the ground.

"It's mine!" Namwoon raced past Gong Pildu, arm outstretched, but before he could grab the flag it was snatched away.

Kim Dokja hopped onto the platform. "Oh, did you want this?"

Namwoon's mouth twisted sourly, and Gong Pildu mumbled, "Son of a bitch."

There was no one left of Myeongdong besides Kang Ilhun, who was now tied with Sangah's threads and carried back by Lee Hyunsung. Dokja gathered us around Kang Ilhun and demanded the source of his information. Kang Ilhun panicked at the first mention of torture; he broke entirely when threatened with death.

"The prophets! The prophets are in Dongmyo Station!" Then Kang Ilhun's eyes widened as his mouth foamed.

I sent a clamp of sacred light between his teeth before he could bite off his own tongue.

Eventually, Dokja left to check on Joonghyuk, and I helped clear away the bodies with the others. Gilyoung had woken up at some point and latched onto my side as we worked.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' warns you!!]

What? What was happening?!

[The constellation 'Prisoner of the Golden Headband' is confused.]

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' wants to blast 'Kim Dokja' to pieces!]

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' reaffirms that his incarnation is the better choice.]

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' thinks that 'Kim Dokja' is a bastard philanderer.]

[Many constellations are shocked by the truth of the filtered conversation and 'Kim Dokja's' affections.]

Excuse me? Before my feet could carry me back to the Theater Dungeon, Dokja reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, slightly out of breath.

"Lee Jihye spews nothing but bullshit. And everyone is an idiot," said Dokja loudly.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' looks at you mournfully, because 'Kim Dokja's' heart is pulled in many directions.]

...I think I understood. "It's fine, Uriel. Don't pay it any mind."

She sent me five hundred pity coins, anyways.

Dokja, after stalling for a few minutes in front of me and the stream of constellation messages in front of him, had his mind drawn back to the issue of prophets, and he tucked away to search for the answer on his phone.

I rejoined our companions.

"So that bastard and his group tried to attack us?" Sangah and I were catching Gilyoung up on what he had missed, and the new main scenario. I nodded, and Gilyoung gripped Thor's hammer. "We should kill him."

Sangah startled, but I placed a hand on his knee. "He can help us find the person that sent them to us, so, for now, let's wait."

[Oho, but you might find another use for him.]

Bihyung sneered down at us, a gleam in his darkened, red eyes. I had a bad feeling about this. Maaaybe I shouldn't have antagonized a dokkaebi so early in the scenarios.

[We're going to spice things up around here. Life's no fun when it's easy, eh?]

He called out to everyone gathered in Chungmuro Station.

[Enjoy the games.]

...Games?

[A hidden scenario has arrived.]

[Hidden Scenario — Angels vs. Reaper] Category: Hidden Difficulty: B+ Clear Conditions: 1. The Angel of Judgement must uncover the identity of the Reaper and input their name before the time limit runs out. 2. The Guardian Angel can input two names per day, including themselves if they so choose, to protect against death from being named. These two people must change each day. 3. The Reaper must input one name per day to die. They must not be caught by the Angel of Judgement. 4. At the end of the time limit, if the Reaper has killed a sufficient number of people and escaped judgement, they win; if the Angels catch the Reaper and escape death, they win. There can only be one winning side. Time Limit: 4 days Compensation: 4,000 coins to each victor Failure: For the two Angels, the loss of one captured-station rank for your group. For the Reaper, death.

Damn it. God fucking damn it. How did Bihyung even have the plausibility for this sort of trick? He must have insane backing from a higher-dokkaebi or some bloodthirsty, conniving constellations. Perhaps both.

Even before it popped up in front of me, I knew.

[You are the Reaper.]

[You have 23:59:58 to kill someone.]

[Input name here: __________]

All the luck in the world wouldn't get me out of this one.

Next part ->

[a-vibing-potato]

SUPER random fandom rant ahead:

So, to start, I watched a video yesterday of some girl reacting to the pilot episode of Supernatural, but she was starting Supernatural just because Jared's in it (which, so valid lol) and she LOVED Jared in Gilmore Girls. I think I knew Jared was in Gilmore Girls already, but I lowkey forgot. So I was telling my sister that Jared's in GILMORE GIRLS, but thinking that it's gonna be like every show ever and go on my to-watch list and even if I really wanted to watch it (which I'm not sure if I'm so desperate that I need to start today but I could) I'm not gonna be able to because we have no streaming services.

BUT THEN my mom pulls up with the lore drop that she owns the whole show on DVD???? Like mother I didn't know you watched early 2000s shows and had them on DVD???? Just stored away for my convenience???

And sure enough, she literally pulls out all seven seasons on DVD. So, Gilmore Girls has been firmly added to my to-watch list, I brought the first season up to my room but I have no clue if I'll watch any today or not. Also, I don't want to start watching it today thinking "Oh, Jared plays a character in this show!" because from what I'm attempting to put together (probably incorrectly lmao) from my limited knowledge is that he doesn't show up until season 2?? And I think he probably leaves around season 5 because Gilmore Girls ran from 2000-2007, but Supernatural started in 2005 so he had to leave for that.

Anyway, so I'm fighting the urge to start yet ANOTHER show.

I also want to watch Supernatural, per usual, and watch as much of season 6 as I can this weekend, and I want to re-watch Roadkill probably today honestly because I'm thinking about that episode for some reason. Also since we went through a few DVDs looking for Gilmore Girls, I remembered that I have several seasons of Criminal Minds, Blue Bloods, Magnum P.I., and CSI: Vegas on DVD that I could always get into (which, once again, I do NOT need to get into another FUCKING thing. But I always want to.)

AND I have all the Jurassic Park movies AND Pirates of the Caribbean movies because I asked for them for Christmas like a year or two ago and then promptly never watched them lol. I also have a Christmas movie I borrowed from my boss that I promised to watch and still haven't watched yet even though he lent it to me at Christmas so.... I should do that.

I also watched an episode of Demon Slayer with my sister two days ago and it was really good and she wants me to watch the whole show with her so that's the other show I'm into right now.

AND a new episode of the Magnus Protocol came out Thursday that I haven't listened to yet AND I should keep listening to Tower 4 because I'm like two or three episodes into the second season so I should at least finish out the second season before I try to drop it if I have to, but I haven't listened to any of that in several days.

AND I just saw a video about Jonathan Frakes so I remembered Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction exists.

AND I need to finish reading Scythe and Sparrow and read a couple books that a coworker lent me a long time ago that I haven't read yet and read the first book in a series that a DIFFERENT coworker lent me.

There is too much media for me to consume before I die. What do I do. I'm probably gonna play Minecraft and listen to music and read fanfic and watch YouTube, which is none of the things I need to do.

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi’s Valentine’s Special & Follower Celebration

Dear Everyone,

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and I thought, since this silly little blog hit over 1.1k followers yesterday, I want to give you something special.

First of all, though, I want to thank you. I’ve been on here since (and I checked with the archive) July 19, 2022. I can't believe that it has been almost two years. I started watching Daredevil after watching Spider-Man: No Way Home in December of 2021 and hearing Matt Murdock say, "I'm a really good lawyer," after catching a brick. So, I started watching the show, and that was during a time I was really miserable. Mentally and physically, I wasn't in a good place, but after watching Daredevil for the first time and falling in love with Charlie Cox as a genuine person and an actor, it felt like I found a reason to keep going.

I started writing fanfiction again, which I kind of neglected because I felt like this hobby of mine wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't inspired at all until I watched the show. If I hadn't, I probably would not have gotten back into writing and using it as an outlet for my feelings, and I probably wouldn't be where I am today. Thanks to Charlie's portrayal of Matt Murdock, and watching his interviews, I felt like I could do the things that I love again and follow my dreams. He's the reason I chose to major in English. And while I owe him that much, I owe you guys here on Tumblr and AO3 even more.

When I first posted here, I didn't think people would even be interested in what I had to say and write. But then more and more people started visiting my profile, you guys started following me, and it kept me motivated to keep writing, even when I'm miserable, and I sometimes only post once every blue moon.

I feel so honored that you guys chose to follow a silly little blog run by a silly little 20-something-year-old whose first language isn't even English (but made it her entire personality), and who chose to write about traumatized dark-haired characters portrayed by Charlie Cox. I'm overwhelmed by the love you continue to show me, and every time one of you chooses to reblog or comment on one of my works, saying that it resonated with you, I feel like I'm doing something right. I'm sharing my ideas, my own experiences, my wishes, and even my deepest, darkest dreams through my writing like it's a fucking diary, and you eat it up every single time.

I'm just so glad that this community exists, as chaotic as it sometimes is, and that you chose to stick around, even when I suck at keeping promises sometimes. You keep teaching me new things about who I am, my writing, and how important it is to put myself first. I don't know if you've heard it lately, but you guys are incredible and I appreciate the hell out of every single one of you.

Thanks to Tumblr, I made lifelong friends (especially looking at you, @blackshadowswriter) and found like-minded people that made me feel less alone. That alone was worth making this account and continuing to post on here.

You may think that I'm being dramatic, but for someone who has never really experienced the kind of validation this community gives me, I want to celebrate this milestone. It means more to me than I can even put into words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you all so much! Please, don't ever forget how amazing you are.

That being said, I've got some exciting things planned.

The other day, I found a folder in my Docs titled "the vault". I completely forgot about it because I usually keep my WIPs in a different folder. As it turns out, I made that folder for fics that I originally never planned to post, or ones that I'd finished but wasn't happy with. It’s many, but it’s a few. Some are deeper than others. I also jotted down rough ideas and outlines last year that I stuffed in there, some of which I've actually shared with you but never started working on. Until now. And the contents of that vault are what I want to give to you now.

INTRODUCING: The Vault

6 stories from the vault. 1 bonus fic. 7 days.

I went through a myriad of emotions while I wrote these. For some, I actually bled my soul onto paper. For others, it was merely a brain fart that led to their existence. They're sad, horny, and at times angry, but some of those were originally written for me, and only me. Those that weren't started as a few sentences in a folder before I forgot they existed. Either way, I don't want them to catch dust. And I wouldn't want to share them with anyone else.

Starting February 14th, I will be posting one fic every day until February 20th. My “The Vault” works are Matt Murdock x Reader works, but I've made an exception for the bonus fic. I won't tell you what they are about, but I will give you a list of installments and what kind of fic they are so you know what to be excited about (and maybe which ones are not your cup of tea).

-> The number at the end tells you the date I will be posting it on, but I put it in chronological order as well.

INSTALLMENTS:

1. If You Need To Be Mean (angst, hurt/comfort) 14.

2. Mismatched Bridesmaid (fluff, smut) 15.

3. Weed Cookies (humor, fluff, cw: accidental drug use) 16.

4. the grudge (songfic, angst, hurt/comfort, cw: death of a parent) 17.

5. Halloween (Smut) 18.

6. I Want To Fuck A Priest (Smut, cw: priest!Matt) 19.

BONUS:

7. Now That We Don’t Talk (Part 2 of Is It Over Now?) -> Frank Castle x Reader (smut, angst) 20.

A few more words: You are free to send me an ask if you want to know more, but be prepared that I won't be answering in much detail. I don't want to spoil the fun. I would, however, not mind talking about them as vaguely as possible (if you’re interested).

Thank you all. For everything. And I hope you stick around to read these little gems.

With love from yours truly,

Lizzi <3

[putschki1969]

2024/09/02 Instagram post by Wakana

There's finally a new issue for my FC newsletter "Botanical Tsushin" 🤗I think it should have arrived at your place by now 🧚✨ The cover photo features me wearing pants, quite a rare style! I can't believe it's already been six months since this photo was taken…(Source)

2024/08/23 Blog post by Wakana ラップ事件と早寝早起き〜物持ちは良い方です〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

The Plastic Wrap Incident, Early to Bed, Early to Rise ~ Taking Good Care of Things ~

The other day, I noticed that I was running out of plastic wrap at home. I always keep plastic wrap on the left side of the large drawer under the sink. I could tell I was only a few rolls away from the last one and since I had no stock left in the drawer, I decided to buy some before I forgot. Since plastic wrap is an essential item for me, I bought a bit more to stock up properly. This time, I bought a set of four online and immediately felt a sense of relief ♪ I was excited as I waited for Plastic Wrap babies to arrive. The next day, the plastic wrap was delivered to my house safely. I used up the last one and opened a new package. I felt at ease and happy knowing that I still had three rolls in stock on the left side of my drawer. All of a sudden, I looked to the right side of my storage drawer. There were two rolls just lying there. How did you get there??? What a surprise…I had no idea you existed (maybe because I bought them in the store and not online). Can't believe there have always been two extra rolls in stock. But why are they on the right side? It's really confusing. With five in stock, I feel like I don't need to buy plastic wraps for about a year. I feel like I should do a give-away for my fans. (I won't do it though.)

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣▽￣0)／

With five in stock, I won't have to worry about plastic wraps for a very long time (But I'm sure I'll end up buying even more rolls)

Well, it seems we've overcome the intense heat of August, and it's finally starting to cool down a little bit. At least in Tokyo.

Recently, in addition to stretching in the morning and evening, I've been trying to go to bed early and get up early. Ideally, I want to go to bed at 11pm and get up at 7am. Surprisingly, it's become a habit quite easily, and sometimes I even go to bed at 10pm and wake up at 6am 😂 I'm already sleepy by 9pm…😴I feel that doing a lot of different things in the morning really helps me finish the day efficiently and refreshed. In the evening, after getting out of the bath and finishing my skincare routine, I do whatever I like depending on how I feel that day. I do some thorough stretching, watch a movie, have a little wine, read a book, etc. I'm going to keep doing this in order to find the best schedule for me😊💕

Yesterday, I went to the hairdresser and got bangs again. This time, I got full-on bangs (￣^￣). My previous bangs couldn't even be called bangs because they were so thin. But now, they are proper thick bangs. With bangs like this, I can choose to wear them down, part them, or put them all up. I'm not used to it so I will try my best to arrange them nicely from now on. Of course, as before, I will be pulling them up frequqntly to let my forehead breathe (It's my go-to hair-style after all) I'll post some photos next time😊

Finally, I have an announcement and a reminder. First of all, here are some more infos about my upcoming FC exclusive event “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour” 🚣🎶

《Event Overview》 Title “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour” September 22 (Sun), evening session from 18:00 September 23 (Mon), day session from 12:00 Let's all enjoy a great meal on the boat! ! ! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／ For more information, please check this link😊 https://wakana-fc.jp/contents/773952

And once again, I would like to post a reminder for everyone to submit their messages for my next "Wakana's Talk Garden" podcast episode before the deadline. These are the topics: - Everyone's mysterious experiences - Anything you want to ask me!

Stories that can't be explained by science. Stories that make you question your own perception. Stories of miraculous experiences. Really anything weird you can think of! I look forward to your strange experiences 🤗(In a way, the wrap incident was also a strange experience.) Click here to apply ♡ https://wakana-fc.jp/answers/botanical_oshaberi_13/new

By the way, some of you asked about the floral sheets that could be seen on some of the pillow pictures in my last blog post. (Actually, it is a duvet cover) I had to think about it for a while but I must have bought it somewhere in the Sangenjaya area when I first moved to Tokyo 🤔I saw it and liked it so much that I bought it on a whim. It's been almost 20 years since then. I've been taking good care of it, haven't I? *laughs* I'm quite surprised it is still in such a good condition.

Well, that's all for today, until next time~☆( '▽')/ Lately, I've been obsessed with Mini Bolo snacks.

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊ (Source)

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals - Chapter 59

Summary:

Alexia Ashford and William Birkin in Silent Hill. The chapter takes place before Silent Hill 1. Canon: Silent Hill 1, Silent Hill 2 (Original), Silent Hill 3 and Silent Hill 4: The Room.

1

William awoke to a knock on his bedroom door.

“Mr Birkin, may I come in?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

A nun dressed in nursing attire entered the room. She was carrying a plastic box with various sanitary utensils. The nun placed the box on the bed and moved to the wall to pull back the curtains. The faint glow of dawn streamed through the narrow window to illuminate a room characterized by its virtual absence of ornamentation, save for a crucifix hanging above the headboard of her bed and the bed itself, plus a worn but sturdy wardrobe and a simple desk and chair. There was no radiator, so William must have survived the frigid subarctic night covered with an abundance of thick cotton blankets. Fortunately, he had a brand-new mattress and pillow, so he was able to enjoy his genuine comfort without back pain.

The nun, very young and jovial, sat next to William with the plastic box on her lap, from which she took out an ointment to treat skin irritation. William rolled up his sleeves. The marks of the leather restraints had been imprinted on his epidermis like his jailer's signature; like a bitter reminder of who he belonged to.

“Did you sleep well?”

The nun spoke in English with a strong French accent.

“Yes, better than yesterday. Thank you.”

The young woman spread the ointment gently and expertly. William felt his nervous system suddenly relax as his brain's anxiety at being in a safe space subsided. The nun smiled candidly at him, as if from a world devoid of evil; from a reality where the Ashfords did not exist.

He finished spreading the ointment and closed the box.

“Breakfast is ready for you. Are you sure you don't want to participate in our first prayer?”

“No, thank you. I'd rather not.”

The nun said goodbye to William and left the dormitory.

Alexia had brought him to a Benedictine abbey in northern Quebec. He didn't believe it when they landed in Montreal, for Alexia's very existence antagonized that of the religion, but the Ashfords were Catholics and Alexia received the sacrament of confirmation from the Pope at the Vatican. She had chosen the abbey because she had been there for three months when she was 15. She assured him that the abbess would keep their escape and their whereabouts secret, even though she was a member of Jacob's Circle, and that she would provide them with the means to continue their journey to America.

William made it a non-negotiable point to return to his family. Alexia agreed. However, the family reunion would be a long time coming, for Alexander had already mobilized the soldiers of Jacob's Circle. Nor would their stay at the abbey last any longer. After William's remarkable recovery, they would leave that evening for Maine, where they would temporarily hide out. William had never been to Maine, so he didn't know where they would land. That was less of a concern than living with Alexia.

He had experienced a fraction of the Ashford way of life and what he had seen had distressed him. He knew about butlers and servants from television, but this was qualitatively different. A legion of servants devoted body and soul to satisfying the desires of three individuals who wouldn't even look them in the eye. The butler, Scott Harman, and his assistant, Michael, along with the head cook and the head of security, Martin, were the only employees who received friendly and dignified treatment. The other workers swarmed around the mansion undifferentiated and anonymous under the inescapable scrutiny of the security staff. He watched Alexander's tea being served without him bothering to say thank you. He heard Alfred complain in a rather vexatious manner about an employee who forgot to press a suit, and saw Alexia order Michael to pick up a piece of paper she had dropped on the floor. But what surprised him most was the absolute complacency and happiness with which all the staff acted towards the Ashfords, as if they were semi-divine beings and not human beings who happened to be born with too much money.

Maybe it was culture shock, but his American upbringing did not justify tolerating such smugness. Or maybe he had lived in a bubble of complacency and selective blindness, and now he was taking the shock without anesthetic. For one reason or another, William swore to himself that he would not allow Alexia to cross that red line. If she was so keen, she'd better know and respect his boundaries.

He got out of bed with the intention of showering and dressing. Before leaving, he would take a few bars of the chocolate the nuns made, which tasted like the sweets his parents bought him when he was a child. What had become of his parents? He didn't know. At this point, perhaps they regretted having fathered an only child who had not visited them since his admission to the Training Centre. What a pity.

2

The abbess accompanied Alexia for a stroll in the garden after completing her chores for the first half of the afternoon. In the intervening eight years, the abbess, a member of the Inner Circle, had grown old and half-blind, but she retained her good judgment and excellent diction in Scottish Gaelic. Alexia came to her on the recommendation of Mary-Anne Campbell, who was accustomed to holding her retreats in such a space. The abbess welcomed Alexia as a daughter and, knowing of her distress, took care to provide her with emotional support and to protect her from her family. This second time Alexia had come to her company, but for the same reason: to flee from her family.

Alexia helped the abbess sit on a stone bench. A thick blanket of snow had settled on the ancient monastery grounds, freezing the water and burying the trees.

“I have committed more sins since I left the abbey,” said Alexia in Scottish Gaelic. “God has not willed that I should elucidate a new path.”

“Trust God to inspire you, but you must discover the new path for yourself,” said the abbess in the same language.

“I have not found the way. I rejoined Umbrella with this belief, but my doubts have grown. I feel the embrace of my ancestors more and more strongly, but I do not aspire to a life like my father's and my brother's. I have never settled, despite my commitment to them. I have never been contenting, despite my commitment to them. I aspire to my own answer, not a predetermined one. That is why I made a decision that has led me back to you.”

“Were those sins you committed very serious, my child?”

“I have killed a man with my own hands, and I have ordered the death of dozens of men and women in a laboratory. God has forsaken me, Mother.”

“God's grace is with you because He knows that you are acting out of the legacy of your lineage. Therefore, you must continue to trust in Him, so that one day you will be able to overcome the mistakes made by your ancestors. Your family must remain united, my daughter, for this is how God has ordained it, and this is the only way you will be able to bring light back to where darkness reigns. And tell me, this man who accompanies you, William Birkin, have you chosen him because he will help you in your task?”

“I chose him because I interpreted him as an opportunity for me. I invited him to Ashford Hall. My father left him alone for a week in our house to see if he was worthy of our trust and his forgiveness. He went mad and escaped, but my father captured him and tortured him to break his will and make him surrender to us. Finally, he obtained my father's forgiveness, but I did not wish William to become his minion. He felt a rage equal to mine at the destruction of his greatest creation. I may have erred, Mother, but I am not willing to continue this barren and insignificant life. I intend to prevail.”

“You have not changed in these eight years. You were born consecrated to God, but within you burns the fire of Satan. I looked after you in this abbey for your salvation, but I see that you reject my recommendations.”

“I was born with this curse that forces me to be aware of what I should not be. God has given me an understanding that does not annul me by unhappiness but impels me to rebellion. I do not wish to destroy my family, only to exist for and by myself.”

“And don't you long for a life of peace and integrity? Don't you want to enjoy your privileges with your family? Don't you want to bring about change out of true love?”

“The only true love I have ever known was my brother hugging me to protect me from the cold as we walked to nowhere starving. Everything else has consisted of circumstantial love and hatred. I was not born to be loved.”

“Do you intend to give yourself up to hatred, my child? Know that Satan is plotting against you!”

“It's not hate or love, it's nothingness.”

“The nothingness?”

“Nothingness is Paradise, Mother.”

“Your mind is full of confusion, but perhaps one day you will attain clairvoyance, my child. I have faith that you will ingratiate yourself with divinity and repudiate these strange thoughts. In the meantime, I will pray for the salvation of your soul until the end of my earthly existence.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“God bless you, my child.”

3

Alexia gave William a US passport and driver's license with his new identity: Damien Thorn. She adopted the name Carrie White. A mechanic friend of the nuns chartered a Chevrolet Cheyenne for the second phase of their journey. In the bed of the truck, under a tarpaulin cover, Alexia and William stowed petrol, tools and suitcases of clothes and other belongings. Under the row of seats, Alexia hid the duffel bag containing $1 million in cash she had stolen from her father's safe.

“I guess I don't have to shave your hair off,” William said as he scrutinized the photo of a random person who vaguely resembled him, but who, in Alexia's and the forger's opinion, would be good enough to get him across the border. “Although we can consider entering illegal. We're white and we have a million dollars, I don't think they'll shoot us.”

Alexia threw a road map into his hands. The passport fell to the ground along with the map.

“Warning is not your thing, genius,” William complained.

“I drive to the first stop. You drive to the next stop.” Alexia climbed into the driver's seat.

William picked up the papers and took his place as co-pilot.

“I remind you that we are not in your father's domain. Here we rule equally or, failing that, I rule because I am the eldest.” William asserted himself.

Alexia started the engine and switched on the lights. As she pulled her hair into a ponytail, William unfolded a map of the road map on the dashboard and began to look at possible destinations.

“Shall we go to Twin Peaks? Or would you prefer to see my hometown Baltimore? Or maybe rent a flat in Manhattan overlooking Central Park? Or why not Beverly Hills? Sunbathing would do me good. Lack of Vitamin D causes me to feel sluggish and mood swings. When I was a kid, my parents used to stuff me with supplements. I think they might have poisoned me, but hey, here I am, alive and kicking. Haven't you taken supplements? I doubt it. At your house even the cat eats à la carte.”

“There is a place. A small, little-known town by a lake. A nun friend of the abbess once visited it for charity. The town is outside the Jacobite area of influence.”

“What is the name?”

“Silent Hill.”

4

The road.

A straight line to infinity.

The horizon.

The border between heaven, ether and earth.

The van.

A spacecraft meandering among supernovae.

They took detours to avoid motorways and other main roads. The five hours the route would have taken turned into eight.

At midnight, they stopped at a dingy tavern on the right-hand shoulder of a side road that disappeared into the mountains. A joint idly frequented by truckers, prostitutes, drug dealers and the like. For her personal safety, Alexia stayed in the car.

William bought two takeaway menus and, when they were finished, it was his turn to drive to the Canada-US border. Neither of them dared turn on the radio, so a tense silence settled between the two travelers. William felt like a fugitive on death row. Alexia did not express any distress at his current circumstances.

At the border, William handed the passport to the officer, trembling with fear. Alexia told the officer that they were friends and on holiday. The officer swallowed the charade and raised the barrier. William's trembling did not stop until a couple of hours later, more than 62 miles away from the border and facing a landscape of rugged mountain foothills.

Alexia checked the map on the road map.

“Silent Hill is about an hour from our location, bordering Ashfield and passing Brahms.”

William nodded.

“And what do we do when we get there? Do we stay in a hotel? Hotel? Apartment block? Detached house with porch and garden? In a doghouse?”

“Brahms Road leads to the old part of the town: Old Silent Hill.”

“So what, we try that direction? The abbess told you your father's influence didn't reach this far? That's right, that damn town's up the ass. Raccoon City's the farthest I've ever been from civilization.”

“William.”

“What?”

“Go.”

William accelerated. After half an hour, they joined a side road that ran along the edge of a gorge. Dawn was breaking over the tops of the pines.

They made an emergency stop on the hard shoulder to change the wheel chains. Alexia helped William and between the two of them they finished fixing the problem in less than a quarter of an hour. Back in the car and with the heater on full blast, William stepped on the accelerator.

A couple of miles later, they spotted a battered greenish sign: Welcome to Silent Hill.

5

Bachman Road.

William parked in the car park of a supermarket located next to the exit of the tunnel leading to the town. Alexia held out the road map for the Toluca Lake region.

“We are here. Alexia pointed to a pink square at the northern end of the town.”

William examined the map legend to find out where there was accommodation. To the south was a holiday area and to the south-west was the Lakeview Hotel, next to an amusement park.

“Heh, fancy a trip to the amusement park?” William joked.

“We can't stay in a hotel or a motel.” Alexia looked at a square labelled Jack's Inn at the southern end of the map. “We'd register our names and there are security cameras. We'd make it very easy for the Circle.”

“What do you suggest?” William spread the blueprint on top of the steering wheel.

“A dwelling.”

“Sure, and we hire a lawyer to arrange the sale and purchase of the property. Better idea than registering your name with a hotel, of course.”

“There are two flat blocks here.” Alexia pointed to them: Blue Creek Apartments and Wood Side Apartments. “Which one do you prefer?”

William evaluated the proposal based on the simplicity of the plan.

“So what's your idea? Do we knock on the door of a random flat and take out the occupants, keep the corpses in the fridge and impersonate them? If the corpses were married, we can pretend to be the perfect Mormon married couple, no one will care that you look like my niece.”

“Bribing the concierge for an empty flat.”

“Okay. I understand.” William pulled the plane away from the steering wheel. “That's your nature. I'm just a poor upper-middle-class bastard with a 20% tax burden, in your father's literal words.”

“Continue along Bachman. Then turn right onto Sandford Street and continue straight ahead to Nathan Avenue. Turn left at the junction of Sandford and Nathan and continue to Katz Street. This is where the building is located.”

“Great, thanks for acting as my GPS.”

William put the car in reverse and they drove out of the car park. As they passed Bachman's, William remarked that there was not a soul on the street. Alexia shrugged and told him she preferred that kind of quiet, decadent atmosphere. William remarked aloud how much Alexia reminded him of the Wednesday Addams character.

“You would have been best friends.”

Alexia shrugged her shoulders.

6

William parked a few distance from what he thought was the gate of the gate surrounding the building.

“Well.” William unbuckled his seatbelt and dismounted from the vehicle.

As William stretched out on the pavement, Alexia took the opportunity to put the road map in the glove compartment and pull $5,000 in cash out of the duffel bag. She got out of the van with her hands in her jacket pockets.

“You were in Antarctica, weren't you?”

Alexia entered the compound, ignoring the outburst. William locked the van and went after her.

The hallway was dark and musty. William coughed at the lofty accumulation of dust on the floor and on the sparse furnishings. Alexia approached the back to locate the caretaker's booth or something similar, but the door opened into another corridor. She went to close it, but William stopped her.

“The concierge lives in a flat like the rest of the tenants. Usually on the ground floor.”

William stepped into the shadowy corridor. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105.

“Give me a number.”

“103.”

William went to flat 103. In front of the door, he tied up his hair and clothes and pressed the doorbell. The sound of a bell rang in the background. After a few seconds, no one answered. William looked at Alexia. She pressed him with her eyes to try again. William pressed the doorbell a second time.

“I'm coming!”

A thunderous voice as hoarse as a cave troll's came through the septum and pierced William's eardrums. Alexia pretended not to be startled. The bolt was unlocked and a fat, hairy man greeted them with a grumpy face and a cigarette to his lips.

“Who are you?”

“Eh... We are tourists. We wanted to know who the building manager is in case there is an empty flat to stay in for a while.”

A middle-aged woman emerged from the shadows to join the man in welcoming him.

“Who are they?” said the woman.

“Fucking tourists. If you want accommodation, go to the fucking hotel!”

The man slammed the door shut, ruffling William's hair.

“A nice guy... Give me another number.”

Alexia nodded in the direction of 101. William pressed the doorbell.

“Yes?” A cascading feminine voice was heard. “Who is it?”

“We are tourists. We wanted to know who the building manager is in case there is a free flat to stay in.”

The sash was opened with the bolt chain on. An old woman peered through the crack.

“Oh, but you're a young couple. Why are you here?”

“We are on holiday and we were thinking of staying in this town for a while because... because we like the lake and the mountains.”

“Are there no rooms available in the hotel?”

“Uhm... No... It's because... Well, we're more into flats. Hotels are too conventional for us. Are there any vacancies in this block?”

The old woman assessed William and Alexia as if she were subjecting them to a thorough examination. Then she turned her attention to Alexia.

“You are a very pretty girl. Are you married?”

Alexia looked sideways at William with visible discomfort.

“No, no. She is my niece. I am her uncle. We go out every summer.”

“Aha, you have a beautiful niece. What's your name?”

“W... Damien. Damien.”

“What about your niece?”

“Carrie.”

“Wouldn't you like to have a coffee?”

“What? No, no, we don't want to disturb.”

“We're in a hurry,” said Alexia.

“What's with the accent? Are you a foreigner?” said the old woman.

“He... Her family is Irish. Ma'am, we don't want to bother you any longer, but could you tell us...”

“There is a vacant flat on the third floor. The 302.”

William nodded. Alexia leaned against the wall opposite the old woman's field of vision.

“And it's for rent? Who is the owner?”

“The neighbors,” said the old woman. “Do you want to rent it?”

“Yes, we would like to. Is there a deposit to be paid?”

“It's $50 a month, but it's not furnished. Only the kitchen and bathroom are left. The previous tenant disappeared.”

William took his wallet out of his coat pretending he hadn't heard that the previous tenant had disappeared.

“Here you are. 50.”

He passed the note through the hole.

“All right. Just a moment. I'll get the keys.”

The old woman closed the door. William bit his lip. Alexia had leaned her head against the wall as if she was about to die from the boredom of dealing with the old woman.

The old woman reappeared in the doorway.

“Here. It is a copy of the original key. Enjoy your stay.”

William took the key.

“Thank you very much, madam. I didn't ask you what your name was.”

“Mrs Powell. Have a nice day.”

7

Flat 302 smelled like shit. Alexia retreated into the corridor while hyperventilating. William, in a fit of self-preservation, ran to the balcony door and opened it wide to ventilate the room. He inhaled and exhaled deeply. Alexia crossed the doorway, holding her nose with a handkerchief.

The flat smelled like shit because rats had shat on the floor and a legion of cockroaches had expired in the kitchen sink. Alexia, tearing up at the stench, stepped out onto the balcony to breathe in the less stinking, polluted air of the street.

“50 dollars... The old woman has swindled us.”

“I can't live here,” Alexia confessed.

William laughed.

“Well, my dear, it's not so bad. It's only 50 bucks and overlooking the road. Always look on the bright side of life. Besides, think of it as an adventure in the Amazon rainforest. When you get back home, your father and brother are going to flip out.”

Alexia leaned against the railing as she dramatically wiped away tears. William glanced inside. Indeed, there were no furnishings other than the kitchen and maybe the bathroom. However, the walls and floor were actually in good condition. A thorough cleaning and they would be ready.

“Alexia.”

“What?”

“Have you ever done anything like cleaning a house?”

“No...”

“Well... I'll teach you.”

8

They surveyed the state of the flat and stole the cleaning materials from an alcove with washing machines next to the entrance to the floor. William was exhausted, but he wouldn't stop scrubbing until he saw the Virgin Mary reflected in the tiles because he deserved a long, deep rest in a place that smelled clean. Alexia put as much effort into cleaning as William, motivated by exhaustion and her strong opposition to living in a space that was even the slightest bit unsanitary.

They finished cleaning at dusk. Alexia was hungry and William's back ached as if he had been whipped. They threw the spent cleaning products into a rubbish bag and took the utensils back to the hole with the washing machine. The next step was to unload the van. William went to dump the rubbish bag while Alexia unloaded the luggage. On his way to the dumpster, he detected the presence of what appeared to be two people chatting. At this distance he couldn't make them out and didn't think much of them.

The luggage was brought up at once and, last of all, the duffel bag with the million dollars. Alexia locked and bolted the door.

“Which room will be your room? The double room?” said William.

“I choose the other bedroom.”

“Really?”

Alexia went to put her suitcase in her chosen bedroom.

“As you wish.” William left his in the double bedroom.

9

After the thorough cleaning, they had dinner at the Happy Burger fast food restaurant. Alexia ate her hamburger with a knife and fork, and William ate his with his hands. Then they returned to Blue Creek to sleep. They drew lots for a place to sleep. Alexia got the bathtub and William got a couple of blankets spread out as a mattress.

Still in tremendous back pain, Alexia and William struggled into the van and drove to the nearest furniture shop. There, they bought the cheapest, most practical and easy-to-assemble furniture. Back in Blue Creek, it took them a full day to make the flat a livable space.

They then took care to buy clothes and supplies they lacked, plenty of food, and even allowed themselves to improve their appearance. Alexia got a haircut, and William finally got his hair done and shaved off his beard. They sold the van for a pre-owned Chevrolet five-door sedan and a Ford of the same type. Finally, Alexia went to an electronics shop where she bought a desktop computer and a router. William picked up a couple of handguns, two double-barrel shotguns and two hunting rifles with numerous boxes of ammunition at the mall.

Alexia managed to connect the computer to the internet by hacking into the flat's telephone system so that she could send emails to Alfred via an encrypted client she developed two years ago for the twins' exclusive use. Alexia wrote a message to her brother with the simple sentence: “We are alive”.

“Alfred will tell Annette. My father tapped your phones and bugged you at home to keep an eye on you.”

“Wait, what? Your father did what?”

“He sent a Circle soldier disguised as a technician who tapped your phones and bugged you.”

William put his hands to his head. It all fit together now.

“That's why... That's why your father knew these things...”

“I was in no way involved in the invasion of your privacy. That was my father's obsession.”

“But listening is still active?”

“Yes, so you should not contact Annette. This email is the only secure means at our disposal.”

“God…”

William went to the kitchen to drink as close in taste to brandy as they had.

10

A ghostly force prevented them from crossing the threshold of flat 302 to the outside world as if a wall of invisible chains had sealed the door. They were deprived of sunlight, except that which they received through the frost-fogged glass; of being embraced by the cold air blowing down from the mountains; and of listening to the cacophony of natural and man-made sounds that the city emitted from dawn to the next sunset, so that it was the gloom of day and the darkness of night that regulated the circadian cycle of flat 302.

The seclusion did not come about by choice, but by implicit mutual complicity. It began after the last outing to the outside world, when they both completed their to-do list to make the place their temporary refuge. The two went to bed in their makeshift beds as usual and the next morning neither wanted to leave. By the inertia of his past life, William was the only one who dared to timidly break the vow of closure with a mock escape that ended in the rubbish chute, located in the same hole as the washing machines. A gesture that, however, did him no favors. Alexia, for her part, quickly got used to the monotony and quiet of confinement. However, their confinement was not limited to the spatial, but mainly to the mental.

The silence of contemplation reigned in flat 302; a silence occasionally broken by the shrill noise of a television on, by Alexia's panting as she exercised, things accidentally crashing to the floor, William's footsteps as he paced the living room, the words articulated by two solitary voices. Sometimes these words reached their destination and sometimes they were lost in the void; sometimes they were launched with meaning and at other times emptied of it. In this way, flat 302 became an extension of the secluded, half-hidden spaces in which William and Alexia had often met at the latter's request. These were places where soliloquies were shared and conversations on a wide range of scientific and metaphysical topics, generic and intimate.

But flat 302 was different. In this kind of non-place, the sum of all places, the soliloquies and preservations took on a tautological nuance. Three themes recurred: self, existence and family.

“I was diagnosed with depression, agoraphobia and social anxiety,” said Alexia.

“Social anxiety. I think I got to feel something similar during my first and only year of high school at the age of eleven. They put me in a senior class expecting me to deal with the situation. After all, you're the wunderkind, you're the problem solver,” said William.

“I would have ended up in a similar boarding school to my brother.”

“Is it that bad?”

“My brother was physically and emotionally abused by teachers, carers and pupils. They break you to make you what you are expected to be. My father and brother went to the same boarding school, which my great-great-grandmother Veronica founded. There they learned to be what they were required to be.”

“Your father is a dangerous man. He's not right in the head. He tried to kill me... And then he kidnapped me and tortured me. That's not right. Your father is crazy.”

“He wanted to possess you.”

“I am not his slave.”

“Reality was unchanging and peaceful until you broke the fantasy.”

“He almost broke my neck.”

“A slight subversion is enough to enrage the beast.”

“You are sick in the head.”

The strap marks disappeared from William's wrists, and he threw the ointments in the trash. Alexia would wake around noon and stay in bed until she was hungry, absorbed in a waking state in which her thoughts followed no common thread. William cooked lunch and dinner for both, but Alexia had grown accustomed to eating them reheated from lying in bed during the dead hours. The opposite was true: Alexia had grown tired of doing, while William had grown tired of not doing. Alexia didn't even feel like reading, while William kept busy cleaning, doing laundry, watching TV and taking out the trash. Alexia prioritized ennui, while William longed to regain control of himself.

“I don't understand,” said William.

“What?”

“Why don't you just leave. You are a billionaire, remember. Your family has as much money as the GDP of several countries.”

“It's not about the money.”

“And why is that?”

“It's a question of power. You didn't leave Umbrella when you had the chance.”

“Because I wanted to know why the hell you fucked me up like that.”

“And because you might not have thought you would have had access to the same resources to succeed as you did in Umbrella.”

“Well... It's true that I want to succeed, but that's because I'm ambitious.”

“Because you are a normie.”

“Alexia, don't start with that bullshit. You still haven't answered the question.”

“Do you really believe in starting a family and retiring with several obsolete publications and a few decorations? The American way of life.”

“Is there supposed to be nothing wrong with starting a family? Or aspiring to a quiet life?”

“Working in a clandestine laboratory for two war-loving managers?”

“You haven't answered my question.”

“You answered it for me.”

Supplies were running out at a steady pace. William cooked the same dishes, again and again, and Alexia reheated them in the microwave, again and again. He did, however, make one change. Alexia replaced the bed with the computer to program he didn’t know what. William, for his part, had started writing in a notebook, but it wasn't a diary, it was just the things that came into his head jumbled up. Neither of them had been out in the outside world for about a month, until almost the beginning of spring. Alexia's hair extended down her back, and, for the first time, William sported a full, untouched beard.

“Why did you kill John... Did he deserve it?” said William.

“He annoyed me.”

“Is human life worth so little?”

“Less than any other animal's life is worth.”

“If you hadn't intervened, would Alexander have killed me?”

“Yes.”

“And you wouldn't have felt any remorse?”

“No.”

“You didn't feel any remorse either?”

“No.”

“But murder...”

“William.”

“What?”

“Be aware of what you have done.”

“What have I done?”

"You killed, William. You killed the guys Spencer sent you. Do you know where they came from? Who they were?”

“No...”

“Ordinary citizens, mostly from the lower classes. Anonymous and poor, but with a life and illusions. You killed them, William. You turned them into biological weapons, into monsters. You did it because you were ordered to, to fulfil your role.”

“Uhm...”

“That's what we do, William. My family does it because death is our raison d'être: the foundation of our privilege. You do it because, whether forced or not by circumstance, you wish to do it. Giving death is, in the end, what we do.”

“I didn't want to be like that... I only signed a training contract.”

“James Marcus was your mentor: you knew exactly where you were going and what you were doing. All of us know what we're doing and yet we keep going.”

“The logical conclusion is that I'm a son of a bitch, isn't it? Is that what you mean, that I'm a son-of-a-bitch motherfucker just like you?”

“Interpret it as you wish, but I insist that projecting your shortcomings onto me will not resolve the dissonance.”

“Oh, wow.”

“I have begun to discern.”

“He, where has your gift for clairvoyance led you?”

“I have discerned Paradise.”

“Ha ha ha. Don't fuck with me, Alexia.”

“I was once on the verge of creating a virus. I called it T-Veronica.”

“When?”

“At twelve years old.”

“So what? What did you do with it?”

“It disappeared. My father destroyed it with the Antarctic base. Do you know why?”

“I don't know.”

“The employees of the base rebelled against him. My father mistreated them. He cut their food rations and heating, doubled their working hours and deprived them of sleep. It finally came to a head when my father publicly laughed at an employee who crushed himself while operating a packaging machine. I was in my lab when it happened. The first thing I saw when Alexander came to pick me up was his look of hatred. Absolute, unrelenting hatred. At that moment, I realized that hatred was what had driven me to create the T-Veronica. The same kind of hatred my father felt: the hatred of powerlessness. My father wanted to kill and destroy, and so he did. He took hate as volition. If hatred is will, Paradise must be attained through it.”

“Is that a biblical passage?”

“Paradise... There was an anthill in the laboratory... If the human species were at least this orderly, this efficient, I wouldn't feel this hatred... The T-Veronica could have been a way...”

“Luckily it seems it never was. Is that why you're in Umbrella? To resurrect your virus?”

“No, that is unrepeatable.”

“So?”

“I am a scientist. Besides, if I could remake the T-Veronica right now, I would do it for a different purpose.”

“I'm afraid to ask, but which one?”

“Exterminate humanity.”

William started going out on the balcony as temperatures rose. The first time the sun came out it scorched his skin and burned his retinas. Alexia had decorated her bedroom with drawings of vortexes and similar patterns. She said the sight of them comforted her. She told William that she had initiated the development of a computer virus and had adopted the name T-Veronica as her hacker pseudonym.

“Is that why you brought me here, Alexia?” William said to himself in front of the mirror. “To turn me into a monster and take revenge on the world? He, he, he, he, he... I want my revenge too. I want revenge on your father, on Spencer, on my parents, on the kids in the neighborhood, on the teachers... I want revenge.” William gesticulated exaggeratedly to emphasize his sneer. “I want revenge on you, Alexia. I want to destroy you the way you destroyed me. I want you to sink as I sank,” he muttered. “I want to destroy the world.” He sniffled. “I'm pathetic.”

He heard her singing through the partition. A lullaby-like song that told the tragic story of an evil queen and a naive king. The king died, but there was no mention of what the queen did after his death. Perhaps revenge?

“Throw myself out of the castle window. Slash my wrists with the broken glass of a bookshelf. Hang myself in my bedroom. Drown myself in the bathtub,” said Alexia. “But my most creative intrusive thought was when I considered the possibility of, if I completed it, trying T-Veronica on myself.”

“What about your brother? Would you have left him alone with your father?”

“I don't know.”

“Cruel, considering that he is the only person in this world who loves you as you are. Just as Annette is the only woman who dares to be with me.”

“I wanted to convince myself that I didn't need it, but...”

“But what, you realized that in your black heart there was room for love, that you even have emotions and everything? Nobody is an island, no matter how much you pretend otherwise. I don't know you very well, but my impression is that you need your brother because otherwise you would be completely alone, and not alone without friends, but absolutely alone. With no one to confide in and to feel loved. That's what I miss about Annette. You admit it yourself: if it wasn't for Alfred, you would have killed yourself.”

Alexia went out onto the balcony for the first time in over a month. She sat down next to William, who had wrapped a blanket around himself. The influx of passers-by had increased slightly since the winter. The town now seemed inhabited.

“About what we talked about in the sewers that time,” said William. “I don't know what I want to do.”

“We can find out.”

“Sherry doesn't deserve for me to be her father... I'm out of my mind... But I love her. What should I do?”

“Find out.” She sighed. “I think it's time to return to the outside world.”

“Yes...”

The chains sealing the door of flat 302 came undone and fell to the floor.

11

The supreme Power hurled him headlong, engulfed in flames, from the ethereal vault, loathsome and burning, he fell into the bottomless abyss of perdition, to remain there, laden with diamond chains, in the punishing fire; He, who had dared to defy the weapons of the Almighty, lay and wallowed in the fiery abyss, together with his infernal band, nine times the space of time that day and night measure among mortals, yet retaining his immortality. His sentence, however, had in store for him a greater misfortune, for the double thought of lost happiness and perpetual sorrow tormented him without respite. He wandered about with his dismal eyes, in which were painted dismay and immense grief, together with his deep-rooted pride and unshaken hatred.

Alexia finished reading as the Protestant pastor finished the service. The parishioners rose from their seats and marched out of the church. Alexia approached an icon on the side of the nave, a Virgin Mary with the baby Jesus. Alfred turned to spirituality for self-acceptance. Alexia, on the other hand, felt nothing in the presence of those caricatures immortalized in wood. When she needed him most, God ignored her prayers because he was always dead. However, she believed in Paradise. She wanted to be the maker of her own Paradise.

She noticed from the accumulation of dust that the virgin's garment had not been washed for months. She touched it. The touch was strange. She pulled back the fold of the robe. The paint had faded from much of the figure. It looked like an intentional lack of maintenance considering the good condition of the building and furnishings.

“Are you a newcomer?”

An elderly woman in a dark brown dress with a thin white veil spoke behind her. She crowned the ensemble with a red and black striped tie.

“Yes, I am.”

“I saw you reading during mass. What were you reading about?” As she spoke, the old woman fixed her wide eyes on Alexia and hovered over her as if to catch her.

“John Milton's Paradise Lost.”

The old woman gave him a nod of approval.

“Do you believe in Paradise?”

Alexia began to distance herself from the old woman.

“I believe in the word of the Bible,” she answered evasively.

“The road to Paradise is paved with pain and suffering.”

Alexia suppressed her revulsion for the old woman.

“I see it in you,” the old woman continued. “The fire that burns inside you. The hatred that consumes you.”

“You don't know anything about me.”

Alexia turned and left the church.

“I know all about you,” said the old woman.

12

In the evening, Nelly's bar was attended by two scattered groups of co-religionists, apart from the two waitresses and the cook. William was drinking a beer alone in a corner of the bar.

Nobody paid any attention to him.

The world sucked.

Stinking, noisy, stultifying and stupid like that bar.

A teenager approached the bar.

“Another one!” His voice trembled from the high level of alcohol in his blood.

William smiled at his deplorable state. The teenager spotted him and approached him.

“What are you laughing at?” The teenager leaned on the bar to support the weight of his inebriated body. “Do you want me to break your mouth?”

“I didn't laugh at you.”

“You laughed at me.”

“No, I haven't.”

“Enough!” said one of the waitresses. “Don't scare the customers away from me!”

The teenager walked away from the bar grumbling.

“You fool,” William muttered between his teeth.

He asked for the second round.

A woman with dark circles under her eyes and a drug habit asked him for five dollars and passed him a leaflet. William gave her a five-dollar note and thanked her for the second. The brochure advertised the Silent Hill UFO Association. Sightings had increased in the region and especially in the lighthouse area. It seemed that one of the members of the association had discovered a talisman with which aliens could be summoned, but it had not yet been tested. Below was the address for receiving letters and for applying for membership for ten dollars a month. If he had had a pen handy, he would have filled it in, even though his favorite aliens belonged to another franchise.

He threw the leaflet in the bin.

A man entered the bar. He activated the jukebox first.

A letter to my future self, am I still happy, I begin

Have I grown up pretty? Is daddy still a good man?

Am I still friends with Colleen? I'm sure that I'm still laughing

Aren't I, aren't I...?[1]

The man ordered himself a well-filled whisky. He gave William a sidelong glance.

Hey there to my future-self, if you forget how to smile

I have this to tell you, remember it once in a while

Ten years ago, your past-self prayed for your happiness

Please don't lose hope...

The man sat next to William. He had a slim, trim appearance, piercing light eyes, neat curly hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He reminded him of a cross between John Lennon and Jesus Christ if he were dressed in jeans and denim.

Oh, oh what a pair me and you, put here to feel joy not be blue

Sad times and bad times see them through

Soon we will know if it's for real

What we both feel

“We haven't met. I'm sure you're new in town,” said the stranger with charming formality. “What's your name?”

“Damien.”

“Leonard Wolf.” He held out his hand.

William shook it at him.

Though I can't know for sure, how things worked out for us

No matter how hard it gets, you have to realise

We weren't put on this earth to suffer and cry

We were made for being happy, so be happy

For me, for you, please...

“What are you doing here? Are you sightseeing?” said Leonard.

“Yes... A season of retirement.”

Oh, oh what a pair me and you, put here to feel joy not be blue

Sad times and bad times see them through

Soon we will know if it's for real

What we both feel

“On your own?”

“No... With my niece.”

“Oh, you must like each other very much.”

“Well... We'll take each other. It's just to hang out.”

“Aha, and how long ago did you arrive?”

We were put here on this earth, put here to feel joy

We were put here on this earth, put here to feel joy

We were put here on this earth, put here to feel joy

William took a swig from his glass of beer. In small towns like this, everyone knew everyone else, and rumors spread at the speed of light. Lying was not the best option.

“Approximately one month. We rent a flat.”

“Ok. I hope you had a good rest. Hey, do you want to go for a walk? Do you know the town?”

We were put here on this earth, put here to feel joy...

“More or less.”

“Let's go.” Leonard urged. “Lucia! Tell Nelly I'll buy whatever the newcomer's had! I'll see you later.”

William followed Leonard into the street.

13

Compared to the histrionic hustle and bustle of Raccoon City, the streets of Silent Hill were quiet. A group of five children played on the pavement with sticks and bricks. A couple of grandparents walked their dog. A busy work crew was repairing a broken steel fence at one end. There were no drug addicts wandering around, no police violence. There were no people shouting nonsense at the top of their lungs, and no pockets were not being touched in case a friend of the unwanted had thought to rummage in their trousers.

“You come from a city, don't you? You can tell. You city-dwellers boast that you have a lot of work and services, but the real life is in the towns, that's where the authenticity is; that's where you feel your roots. You come from the capital?” said Leonard.

“From the state? No. I come from further south.”

Leonard held his tongue because he was waiting for a more elaborate answer. William swallowed hard. They were supposed to be safe from Alexander in this place, but lying was very difficult because of the context and his character. A half-truth? But how long would they stay in Silent Hill, and was there even a plan?

“Raccoon City in Ohio. That's where I live for work.”

“Is your niece also from there?”

“No, he's from another city. I'm just there for work.”

At the end of the avenue, Leonard told him to turn left onto a dirt road.

“Over there is a ranch and beyond that is the cemetery. As you can see, it's a small town, but very cozy.”

“Yes, it looks like it. Maybe I'll move to a town when I get bored of the city. And what do you do around here?”

“Everyone makes a living as best they can. Some open businesses, others do repairs, others farm and so on. We do what we can to survive. As I say, there is little work, but that is compensated by a strong sense of belonging to the community. That's what you city dwellers lack: a sense of belonging. You live in shoeboxes and spend your days driving from one place to another for nothing but work and consumption until you die and nobody remembers you. Isn't it a shitty life?”

“I guess you're right. What do you do?”

Leonard smiled.

“I do a bit of everything here and there, but I'm a mechanic. Sometimes I repair cars. Other times I'll do a little fix for you, and if I like you I'll do it for free. I don't let myself be fooled by the devil's tricks. My shop is in the north, in the business district. Drop by if you need an oil change or get a flat tyre. First time is on me.”

“Thank you, you're very kind.”

The road led into a tunnel adorned with a profusion of obscene graffiti. At the end of the passage, Leonard opened the gate and they entered the promised dirt road.

“Now it's my turn to ask you what you do for a living.” Leonard lit a cigarette. “Do you want one?”

“I don't smoke. Uhm... I work in a company.”

“Officer?”

“In a laboratory.”

“And what can you do?”

“Chemicals. We develop and test them. It's not very exciting, but it has its charm.”

“Chemicals such as what? Pesticides? Fertilizers?”

“Pharmacy.”

“Oh, you work for a pharmaceutical company. I hope they're paying you well for poisoning us with their cheap drugs and vaccines. God didn't create man to be dependent on such tidbits. No offence. But you're not evil, are you? You are tricked into working and you believe the lie for survival.”

“It's a job. I need it to eat. I haven't yet been lucky enough to live on rents like others I know.”

“Ha ha ha.” Leonard laughed out loud. “God forbid, Damien, God forbid... By the way, I noticed your wedding ring. Are you happy with her?”

“We've had our ups and downs, like all couples...”

“Why isn't she with you?”

Leonard leaned against the wooden fence of the ranch. William looked at the horses in the background eating and trotting.

“Uhm... Because I'm with my niece. It's a habit. My wife also works.”

“You can't lie.” Leonard sat on the fence.

“Why do you think I'm lying?”

“You hesitate too much. The truth admits of no hesitation.”

“Believe what you want, but it's true.”

“We'll see. Why don't you tell me the real reason?”

“Because I am on holiday with my niece while my wife works.”

“Do you hate your wife?”

“No! What's the connection? Are you Mennonites or something?”

“No, not at all. I'm just curious. You know, most of the people who come here on holiday are a pain in the ass. Young couples who go off to the hotel to fuck their brains out, litter our streets, and get in our way with their modern-day talk of equality and sexual freedom. Then they complain that we hate them, but they have never respected us. Every place has its culture and traditions. We have ours, is it so hard to ask for a little respect for them?”

“I don't know. My mentality...”

“You look different. You spent a month with your niece locked up in Blue Creek. That's news to us.”

“How do you know...”

“It's a small town, Damien. We know each other here and we talk to each other.”

“Yes, of course. We needed it.”

“Curious. Hey, it's starting to get dark. I have to go. Would you know how to go back by yourself? Nobody's going to rape you!”

“Yes...”

“Great. Come by the shop tomorrow at ten o'clock.” Leonard handed him a business card. “I'll recommend places to visit with your niece.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye.”

14

The local library of Silent Hill was small, narrow and nondescript. Most of the volumes on its sparse shelves she had already read, with the exception of the few copies of popular literature, which she disliked for their terrible quality. There was not much scientific literature and the few references available were out of date, which made her suspicious of the economic and educational level prevailing in the region.

The only interesting part was housed on the upper floor of the reading room. Unlike the section reserved for scientific literature, the esoteric section boasted a bulging number of well-preserved and rather thick tomes. Surprisingly, she recognized many of the authors from her great-great-grandfather Stanley's collection. Malleus maleficarum. The Necronomicon. Tarot manuals. De Vermis Mysteriis. The Book of Eibon. Cultes des Goules. Herbology of Toluca Lake.

That last one interested her. He turned random pages.

CLAUDIA ALBA

Perennial herb that grows in the vicinity of bodies of water. It reaches a height of 10 to 15 inches. Its leaves are oblong and the flowers are white. The seeds are hallucinogenic. It is recorded to be used in religious ceremonies for its hallucinogenic effect.[2]

He closed the book and put it back. There was another one: Lost Memories.

One feature, only rarely mentioned and disappearing, is that of ritual sacrifice.

"Pray. To pierce a man's chest with a copper stake. To soak the altar with the blood that flows red from the heart to praise and show allegiance to God".

In another sacrificial ritual mentioned in the same book, the victim is burnt alive. The latter was a more dignified ceremony in which prisoners and sinners were not allowed to participate. Only the clergy could be sacrificed. There is no similar rite among the other religions of the region. It is possible that it was associated with a sun god as the main deity.

Although this religion extols redemption, its history is dark and sectarian.[3]

She recalled the sacrificial altar in honor of great-great-grandfather Stanley's Ancients.

No religion has remained unchanged from the time of its foundation. This is no exception. When this religion fell into the hands of the immigrants, it was deeply influenced by their Christian beliefs. For example, the representatives of these primordial gods may be given the names and descriptions of Christian angels. (There is also a rare example of the chief deity, the Creator of Paradise or Lord of the Serpents and Reeds, being nicknamed after a demon. Of course, this is not the work of the believers, but of their adversaries).[4]

One page showed an illustration of a symbol consisting of a larger circle and three smaller circles inside it.

It represents the deity known as the Halo of the Sun. In heraldry, it symbolizes a religious group. The two outer circles represent charity and resurrection, and the three inner circles represent the present, the past and the future. It is usually drawn in red. Occasionally it is also painted in black or other colors, except blue because it reverses its meaning and makes it a curse to God and is therefore forbidden.[5]

It continued:

AGLAOPHOTIS

Red liquid or blood-like crystal. According to the Kabbalah, the name comes from an herb with the power to dispel evil spirits. It is said to grow in the Arabian deserts. It can be steamed or applied as a poultice to ward off demons. It is powerful, but because it is rare, it is extremely difficult to obtain.[6]

Lastly, she read a description of a talisman:

This magic square, with strong protective and dispelling properties, is called the Shield of Virun VII or Seal of Metraton. It will work regardless of whether the target is good or evil. Therefore, its strength places a heavy burden on the conjurer. As it is also difficult to control, it is rarely used. This is why it is called Metraton, after the angel Metatron (or Metraton), also known as the Agent of God.[7]

A syncretic and apocalyptic cult operated in the region, yearning for the redemption of mankind with the coming of Paradise.

That sounded familiar.

The Hyperborean Brotherhood founded by Stanley Ashford started from a similar premise, although his goal was not the coming of any gods parodied from Christian mythology, nor the establishment of Paradise. What her great-great-grandfather desired was the return of the Great Old Ones to Earth for the reinstatement of their rule over all creatures. To accomplish his task, the high priest Stanley performed rituals involving the sacrifice of human beings and pilgrimage to sacred places such as Irem, City of Pillars, and the search in dreams for the unknown Kadath. Since the Great Old Ones had not yet manifested themselves, Stanley seemed to have failed in his mission, although he is said to have triggered some unusual events such as the impact of a mysterious meteorite in Northumberland and the sighting of humanoid amphibious creatures off the coast.

In any case, the point of the matter was that Stanley, as a strong believer and prominent occult leader, had no qualms about sacrificing whoever was needed. Similarly, according to what she had read, the cult generically called The Order might bear some resemblance to the Hyperborean Brotherhood in its practical vocation. If that was the case, there would be evidence and at least one high priest heading the organization.

Alexia returned the book to its place and went downstairs to ask the librarian for access to the newspaper library. The librarian granted her access and opened the door. Alexia turned on the microfilm machine to consult the front pages of the only local newspaper. Looking through the headlines, she found two that caught her eye:

The suspicious deaths continue. First the anti-drug mayor, and now a narcotics officer dies of sudden heart failure of unknown cause.

And:

A fire breaks out in the city. Six houses destroyed. Charred body of Alessa Gillespie (7) found. Preliminary investigation points to a fire in the basement of the Gillespie house. The fire is believed to have been caused by a boiler malfunction.[8]

Alexia turned off the machine and left the library.

She guessed why Jacob's Circle was repelled by the region.

15

William turned on the microwave to preheat the umpteenth container of convenience food he had bought at the nearest convenience store. A strange mixture of rice with vegetables and sauces that smelled of overripe soybeans and expired fried chicken. He was trying hard to improve his diet, but the talk with Leonard and his walk back to the flat had exhausted him. Alexia was content with leftovers from the day before.

William sat at the table burning his fingers. Alexia was tearing the fish apart with her fork. Since their final exit to the outside, each had been intent on going their own way. In fact, William could have driven to Raccoon City, but he felt tied to Alexia to protect him from Alexander's threat and because his mental state had declined, and he didn't want Annette and Sherry to panic. He would not return until he resolved the issue that tied him to Alexia.

“There is a cult in this town. The Order.” Alexia gouged out the fish's eyes with her fork.

“What about it?” said William.

“It reminded me of my great-great-grandfather Stanley. You were in his dungeon.”

William's hair stood on end. The sacrificial altar with traces of dried blood.

“The Order bears a resemblance to the Hyperborean Brotherhood.”

William focused on eating.

“Human sacrifices.” Alexia removed the plate.

“Do you want to investigate? I'll be Fox Mulder and you be Dana Scully.”

“Where did you spend the afternoon?”

“At the bar on the corner. I met Leonard Wolf today. He invited me to drop by his shop tomorrow at ten o'clock.”

Alexia was fingering a lock of her hair.

“Who will be the high priest?” she whispered.

William shrugged his shoulders.

“While you find out, I'll go and see what Mr. Wolf wants. Maybe he'll buy us lunch and everything.”

“There was an old woman in the church who approached me.”

“Uhm?” William went to the fridge to get dessert.

“She asked me about Paradise and said she knew who I was.”

“Your real identity?” William sat back down with concern. “Have we been discovered?”

“No. The Circle will not discover us in this town.”

“So?”

“She is a member of the cult.”

“So what? Are we leaving?”

“No, not yet. But be careful. Watch who you associate with.”

Alexia got up and went to the kitchen to put the dish in the dishwasher.

“Fuck,” William muttered.

16

Silent Hill Central.

William parked in a free spot near Leonard's garage. He went over to the garage to have a look around. One of the mechanics saw him and went into an adjoining room. Leonard then went out the same door.

“Damien, I'm glad you came. Come in, come in. Do you want a beer?”

“If you have coffee, that's fine.”

Leonard led William into the workshop office and poured him a machine coffee that tasted like shit. Leonard uncorked a bottle and invited him to sit in a wide, frayed armchair.

“Have you visited the town?” said Leonard.

“No, not yet.”

“Better. There are a couple of places you could go with your niece. Actually, three. Lake Side Amusement Park, the Historical Society Museum and Rosewater Park. They're all good.”

“We'll go, then.”

“Hey, Damien. I'm sorry if I was too abrupt last night, about your wife. You see, this is a very small, close-knit town and sometimes new things take some getting used to, you know?”

“It's ok. I understand.”

“It's because I'm worried about you. You look exhausted. Are you running away?” Leonard lit a cigarette.

“Uhm... No.”

“You doubt too much, Damien. It's because of your wife, right.”

“No. That's not why.”

“You're running away from someone who hurt you, aren't you?”

William bit his lip.

“I'm not running away,” said William.

“Yes, you are. And I can help you.” Leonard finished his bottle. “I can help ease the pain you're feeling. Trust me.”

“No...” William got up to leave.

Leonard stood up and grabbed his arm to stop him.

“You're hiding, but you don't know if your stunt is going to work, do you? You're hiding from the police? A domestic violence warrant?”

“No.”

William wrenched his arm out of Leonard's hands.

“Leave me alone.”

“The police patrol very often these days. They're not looking for someone.”

William made for the exit, but Leonard grabbed him violently again and ripped the wedding ring off his finger.

“Give it back!” William shoved Leonard, but the latter took a few steps back to inspect the ring.

“William. Annette. William, that's your real name, isn't it?”

William blanched.

“Give it back to me...”

“And the woman you are with is not your niece, is she? Is she your lover?”

“No!" William shouted, fed up with Leonard. “Give it back!”

William angrily lunged at Leonard and punched him in the face, but did not get him to drop the ring. Leonard wiped the blood from his mouth with his hand.

“You're playing with fire, William. Don't piss me off.”

“Fuck you, you freak!”

William kicked Leonard hard in the legs. Leonard staggered and collapsed to the floor. The ring fell next to the couch and William ran to pick it up, but Leonard got up and lunged to tackle William. The two tumbled to the floor, with William face down. Leonard pinned his arms to the floor.

“Fuck me?! You're gonna pay for this, motherfucker! Randy!!! Where the fuck are you?! Randy!!!!”

A man came to the scene, attracted by the noise of the peeling and the voices.

“What's going on?”

“Help me with this bastard. Hit him in the head!”

Randy grabbed the first thing he could grab: the bust of a bear, and hit William over the head as he struggled to free himself.

The impact knocked him unconscious.

17

Alexia ordered takeaway for lunch. No sign of William.

She was beginning to worry.

She left the gun on the dining room table.

If William didn't show up by 10 p.m., she would go looking for him.

18

At 7 p.m., the phone rang in flat 302.

“Who is it?”

“Good afternoon, are you Carrie White? We're calling from Brookhaven Hospital. Your uncle, Damien Thorn, attacked a person this morning and was admitted to our facility as a precaution. Could you meet with Dr. Davies tomorrow at 10:00 to find out what happened?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Very well. Thank you for your attention, Miss White. Good evening.”

19

Alexia walked to the hospital at the end of Carroll Street.

She warned.

A curly-haired man in a denim outfit sat smoking on the stairs leading up to the institution.

Alexia stopped in front of the double doors and breathed in deeply. She focused all her willpower on suppressing the anxiety that was beginning to regurgitate from the memory of when she had been in a similar place. She promised herself not to be overcome by emotions and crossed the threshold.

She looked down at the floor to navigate among the medical and security staff. She ignored the occasional shouts from unidentifiable places and dared not raise her eyes above the wheels of the stretchers. The only time she allowed himself to raise her head was to read the map and find out where Dr Davies' office was located.

She knocked on the office door. A middle-aged man in a doctor's coat greeted her.

“Miss White? Come on in.”

Alexia and Davies sat in armchairs.

“As she was told on the phone, her uncle, Damien Thorn, was brought by the police to our institution after he attacked a man. Fortunately, the incident was reduced to a confrontation and bruises, but your uncle was delirious and aggressive. For that reason, the police assessed her for remand at Brookhaven. We called her to collect his personal effects from reception and get a preliminary diagnosis,” explained Davies.

“What is the diagnosis?”

“Depression, mainly. Once he calmed down, his thoughts started to become coherent and he asked to leave, but we fear about his aggressive outbursts. Tell me, was your uncle ever aggressive towards you? Did such an incident happen in the past?”

“No, it's the first time. And where did it happen? Who did he attack?”

“The incident occurred at a garage in Central Silent Hill. He attacked one of the mechanics. According to his uncle, it was because the mechanic started threatening him and stole his wedding ring, which, by the way, shows a different name than his.”

“William is his older brother. He died in an accident at work. He kept the ring as a memento.”

“I'm so sorry. That could partly explain the attack. However, we think Damien should stay in the institution for at least a couple of days for his safety and to start treatment.”

“He was in treatment. It could have been a momentary relapse.”

Davies nodded.

“I'm not taking up any more of your time. Thank you for coming in.” Davies stood by the door and invited Alexia out of the office. “We'll keep you posted.”

“Could I visit him?”

“Come by tomorrow from 5 p.m. onwards. Call before you come to let us know.”

“Which is your room?”

“The M6. You share a bedroom with another man, so you must let us know. Good afternoon.”

Alexia went out into the corridor. She consulted the map. M6 was located on the first floor at the end of the corridor connecting the patient rooms. There was a lift accessible from her area.

She went to the lift. She got in with an elderly lady carrying a drab bouquet of flowers and a male nurse. The lift stopped on the first floor and Alexia decided to follow the old lady with the bouquet of flowers. The old woman stopped in front of electronically locked double doors. She went to open them, but they were locked. A code was required to open them.

“Would you like me to help you, madam?” Alexia offered.

“Yes, young woman, how do you open the door?”

“You need a code. I'm going to ask the nurse.”

“Thank you, darling, thank you.”

Alexia stepped back and asked the first nurse she saw around the place. She asked for the code. The nurse asked if she had a scheduled visit. She said yes and for the same room as the old lady with the bouquet of flowers. The nurse swallowed the lantern and inserted the code. The old woman, assisted by Alexia, entered the area. She stopped in the second room, while Alexia made her way to the last room of all. Without knocking, she entered.

William had sat up in bed. The man he shared a room with was lying in his room and noticed Alexia as soon as he entered the room.

“Alexia!”

William inadvertently revealed his real name. He had a black eye and a bandage on his head.

“Alexia...” muttered the roommate.

“Carrie.” Alexia sat on the bed next to William. “I snuck in. What happened.”

“Leonard Wolf. That son of a bitch set me up in his shop... He started trying to get the truth out of me and ripped off my wedding ring. I got pissed off. I was furious.”

“Leonard Wolf? What does he look like?”

“I don't know... Curly hair, beard, denim...”

“Like the one who was smoking on the stairs of the hospital?”

William clenched his fists.

“Son of a bitch...”

“Did he say anything else?”

“That he wanted to help me. He told me that he had the solution to all my problems. He gave me some messianic bullshit for I don't know what he wants to achieve.”

Alexia felt the roommate's eyes on the back of her neck. She shivered.

“The wedding ring, remember? The one that belonged to your older brother, William, who died in an accident at work.”

“Okay.”

“The doctor wants to treat you for a couple of days. Be good, be polite and take your medication. I'll come again tomorrow from five o'clock.”

“Be very careful.”

“I have considered moving to the hotel. I doubt that flat is still safe.”

“Yes... Move to the hotel.”

“Damien.”

“What?”

“Be careful.”

“Okay.”

Alexia got out of bed. As she left the room, William’s partner did not take his eyes off her for a second.

20

The next day, William was reunited with Alexia.

“I have moved to the hotel along with our things. Here, your wedding ring.

“Thank you. How are you?”             

“Alone, I suppose.”

“Apart from.”

Stanley, William's partner, returned to the room. He lay down on the bed and continued to manufacture a kind of doll without taking his eye off Alexia.

“We're leaving...” William looked behind him.

Outside, they sat down on a couple of free chairs.

“Have you spoken to the doctor? How many days am I going to be locked up here?”

“Until the day after tomorrow. In the afternoon you will be released, in principle.”

“I'm sick to death of Stanley... He makes me sick.”

“Yes.”

“Have you found out anything?”

“A couple of things. The woman who approached me, Dahlia Gillespie, works in an antique shop downtown. The librarian told me.”

“Anything else?”

“Your friend Leonard is supposedly a father and a member of The Order.”

“Oh, how did you verify the latter?”

“The librarian. She may or may not be a member of the cult too.”

“Don't you want to tell your father? He can get you out of here.”

“No. I don't want to go home.”

“Why not? This is not your place. You are in danger here.”

“I know.”

“Alexia... It won't be one of those ideas of yours... They're going to kill us.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“Of course I want to leave. I want to go home to my family and forget about your father.”

“Why don't you want to go home...?”

“All right. We'll leave. When you're released, call me or go to the hotel. I'll be waiting for you.”

“Well... Okay... Fine... Great. You'd better not come. Stay at the hotel. I don't like this place.”

William and Alexia said goodbye. William returned to the room alone. Stanley had finished his doll: a miniature, poorly made reproduction of a blonde woman in a purple dress. William didn't want to think badly of the doll and held back his nausea.

He wouldn't go another day in Silent Hill without shooting himself.

21

William dressed in the new clothes Alexia had brought him the second time he visited and cleaned his wedding ring. He said goodbye to Stanley with a curt farewell and went to Davies' office to be discharged.

“Take care of yourself, Mr Thorn. Continue your treatment and stay out of trouble. Be careful out there.”

“Thank you, Dr Davies. I will be careful.”

William left the institution. The cold wind aired his nostrils, congested with the stench of human and disinfectant. He inhaled sharply to clear his lungs. Alexia wasn't expecting him, so he would go to a phone box and call her to pick him up.

William descended the stairs. He saw a car approaching. Suddenly, the vehicle cut him off by pulling up onto the pavement. Through the window he saw Leonard Wolf in the passenger seat.

Run.

William shot off in the opposite direction. Three men got out of the car armed with ropes. Leonard stayed in the car.

William ran with all his might, but fatigue from lack of exercise began to take over. The three men closed the distance before the indifferent gaze of passers-by.

Finally, one of the three men grabbed him by the hood of his hoodie and pulled hard. William choked and fell to the ground on his back. The three men tied him to the ground with ropes and taped his mouth with duct tape. They then dragged him back to the car and laid him in the boot.

They closed the door.

22

They threw him on the cold tiled floor and removed his hood. Leonard stood in front of him.

“You got your ring back. Good for you. I hope your work as a chemist is not a lie.”

William tried to free himself from the ropes that bound him, but they were firmly fastened.

“Are you a chemist?” Leonard drew his gun and pointed it at his head.

William crawled towards the wall, but Leonard kicked him in the ribs. William's mouth narrowed in pain and hatred for the prick.

“I ask you a second time: are you a chemist?”

Leonard took the safety off the gun. His finger rested on the trigger.

“Yes...” He coughed. “I'm... a chemist. That's right.”

“Okay... I believe you. God commands us to forgive sinners, and I will do that with you. I take your word for it. Can you synthesize a substance?”

“What kind of substance?” William hunched over, lying on the floor in deep pain. He had hit him with vengeance.

“PTV. It is synthesized from a local plant. Your job is to improve the formula. If you succeed, you will be saved, and we will consider releasing you.”

William burst out laughing. Leonard looked at him in confusion.

“And how much are you going to pay me? I warn you, I was very well paid at Umbrella,” he continued, laughing loudly.

“Umbrella? Hey, Randy, doesn't a company by that name ring a bell?”

“The heart pills my grandmother takes are that brand,” said Randy.

“Is that the company you work for? You bastard, you'll all burn in hell for subverting God's work with your dark arts. And you too, Randy, for allowing your grandmother to drink the poison of those damn corporations.”

“If you say so.” Randy shrugged.

William chuckled. Leonard pointed it in his face.

“So, Umbrella employee, are you going to help us with the PTV or not? You don't know us, so be careful how you answer,” said Leonard.

“My niece told me that there was a cult in this village that made human sacrifices. Are you part of the cult?” said William as he sat down.

“Your niece is a meddlesome busybody with a know-it-all attitude.”

“He just comes from an extremely anti-social family. Will you sacrifice me?”

“Do you want me to shoot you?”

“I'll help you with PTV. Is it a drug?”

Leonard holstered the gun.

“You have one chance, Umbrella employee. One chance, or you'll end up fertilizing the garden of Eden with your corpse.”

“Of course. I understand the religious reference. Are you going to untie me?”

“Randy, lock him in the lab. Little devils like you don't deserve my hospitality.”

“You don't know me either,” William muttered. “You haven't the faintest idea what I'm capable of in a laboratory…”

23

Antique Green Lion.

A sad sign hung on the façade. The stairs descended to a semi-basement. Mould flourished in the corners of the walls.

A lone halogen spotlight illuminated her way to the front door. She pressed the bell.

The woman from the church allowed her to enter.

Alexia glanced inside the shop. She stopped to examine a grandfather clock with the hands stopped at 9:15 p.m.

The woman watched her with wild eyes.

“You sacrificed a child for Paradise,” Alexia whispered. “My great-great-grandfather did too, but for a different concept of paradise.”

“You could have been the mother of God... I see it in you: an immeasurable hatred. A hatred ready to beget God. But you are not like her. You're not a psychic.”

“And what am I then, Dahlia?” Alexia opened the glass door of the clock to touch the cylinders.

“You are His Envoy. You have been sent by God as a sign prior to the consummation of my greatest work: the return of Paradise. God has heard my prayers and sent you to cleanse the Holy Place of corruption for its birth. You are his archangel.”

Alexia closed the glass door.

“Where is the Holy Place?” said Alexia.

“Under the amusement park... The entrance is in a booth nearby. I will tell you where it is and how to get there.”

“Is that where my companion is?”

“The blond man? Yes, he’s there.”

Alexia turned and faced Dahlia. Dahlia crossed herself as Alexia approached.

“I have seen Paradise. Do you know what I saw?”

Dahlia shook her head.

“A place of darkness and silence where only my brother and I exist.”

Alexia took a map out of her jacket and spread it on the counter.

“Tell me where it is and how to get in.”

24

The Envoy of God, but God did not exist.

Darkness and silence. The hotel room became a dense forest, a patch of woodland in the middle of the greenish Northumbrian wilderness. There was nowhere to go but to wait for the death perpetrated by hunger and cold. With no one else to turn to, the twins held each other tightly. For the first time in her short life, Alexia wept inconsolably. Not for the immediacy of her extinction, but to vent; to find peace before the end. Alfred had forced her to achieve her greatest desire: to escape from her family.

But the escape was narrow, dark and endless. The road twisted back on itself like the uroboro. Again and again, it returned to the starting point. The path unraveled, as the mist invaded the horizon. In that wasteland, it was nothing.

But she wanted to be something more.

She wanted to live, that was the only idea that remained among all her fragmented selves. But which of them was the real one?

None of them.

She did not feel attached to any of the Alexias she had been to in the past.

In that place, she had run away from her family, but also from herself. She had run away from what she was to make a choice: whether to become like them again, or to give birth to a new being.

And, at last, she got an answer.

She recalled shooting practice with her father.

An assault rifle, a combat shotgun, two pistols and numerous boxes of ammunition were piled on top of the bed.

She put on her black leather trench coat.

To be nothing: to be everything.

25

The tunnel extended into the heart of the Earth.

Stained by the evils of this world,

We keep our sorrows within ourselves.

Only you can heal us from these wounds.

Every morning, noon and night, we call upon your name

and we pray for the day of the Miraculous Descent.[9]

The light bulbs were flashing as she passed by.

I give you my body and my eternal soul without reserve.

Whatever darkness comes upon me, I will bear it with you by my side.

The echo of her footsteps echoed off the walls.

As proof of your miraculous power, guide our obedient and willing souls to the Road to Paradise, Oh Lord.

We will not yield to the power of temptation as long as we have you in our hearts.

The clinking of guns sounded like a chorus of apocalyptic trumpets.

Oh Lord, save us with your compassion.

Oh Lord, bless us.

Oh Lord, favor us with your abundance.

The gateway to the Holy Place.

This gate leads to the Road to Paradise.

Embrace the bosom of the Holy Mother.

Admit your sins and be forgiven. Eternal tranquility can be yours.[10]

She opened it. A mass was being celebrated. The man presiding was the high priest of the Order.

Removed the safety catch on the assault rifle.

The parishioners ascended to Paradise with blood in their hands.

One by one, the screams and cries died down. The high priest fell silent during the first scuffle. His lackeys succumbed during the second.

She shot with pistols all those who lay there to ensure the eternal rest of their souls.

The Holy Place was silent.

The laboratory was in one of the adjoining rooms, not far from the altar.

She heard no human voice as she entered the next corridor.

Silence.

A blow.

She opened the door and shot five other parishioners.

Silence.

Steps.

A parishioner alerted by gunfire.

Shot in the head.

The lab was locked. She used the key Dahlia gave her.

“Alexia! How the hell did you get here?”

Alexia did not respond. She handed William a pistol. William noticed the drops of blood splattered on her trench coat.

They went out into the corridor.

William saw the first body shot in the head. He saw a door ajar.

Saw.

He saw the altar.

William vomited.

He did not see Leonard Wolf among the casualties.

The Holy Place had been cleansed.

William ran after Alexia, mindlessly, his mind blank.

Alexia opened all the doors and, once outside, led him to the car. All his things were in the boot.

Alexia went to discard the weapons and saw someone.

A dark-haired girl in a blue and white dress. She was looking at her. She was pointing at her.

Alessa was disappointed.

William called Alexia.

Alexia got into the car and drove off.

They left Silent Hill.

Notes:

[1] Akira Yamaoka & Mary Elizabeth McGlynn - Letter - from The Lost Days (Silent Hill 3 Original Score). [2] Silent Hill 1 "White Claudia". [3] Silent Hill 3 "Lost Memories". [4] Silent Hill 3 "About syncretic religions". [5] Silent Hill 3 "About the cult's symbol". [6] Silent Hill 3 "Aglaophotis". [7] Silent Hill 3 "Otherworld Laws". [8] Silent Hill 1 "Newspaper article about house fire". [9] Silent Hill 3 "Prayer to God". [10] SH3 "Church door".

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

5.26.25 Monday

7:19 am

Still, have windblow...

Weird, Uncle Jun went back to sleep... I'm an owl in a way and an early bird... I open the lock of our gate every morning while I'm here in the house, I'm doing it... I mean if I have a job then I know I will always be the early bird.

I open it around 6:30 am saw uncle Jun is already up and I thought preparing to go to his baranggay task... Then, when I came back going in the kitchen around 7:15 am, seeing him there now sleeping.... I wonder why...

Drinking my first cup of coffee....

Thinking of money in a lil while... I still have few coins... Will go back to exercise but wanting to trim my waist line... I wanted to go back to the gym and get some yaya's coz John is here as well but he is on training to simply wait... We can't go back to our original lifestyle...That is the saddest part...But giving John a training to simply wait...

I feel bitter that I can't exist correctly. I wanna get a job for me but I hate commuting. I wanna flatten my tummy before it will grow, you know what I mean angels... A lot of frustrations...

I still have plans to get a breast implants! In time... I'm splitting I don't know... But definitely I want a bf who is mature, I don't like someone who is wearing teeth braces... I feel jealous in a way... I needed someone mature coz I need a lift!

I need a job and a bf who can assist me and I need lift, I wanna be productive and a Queenish kind...

8 am

Still, have windblow...

Almost 2 months not exercising, my abs are aching... Weird right?! I hope it is still here activated...

I wanna stretch in a lil while and I need to prepare my garage sale for this coming Friday and later will start on Dr. Alvin's peeling set... Good Luck to me!!!

I somehow suddenly feel lazy... Yesterday, I finished watching the "craft legacy", I have NETFLIX!!!

If I have NETFLIX it is like eyebrows...It is life..

8:51 am

Still, have windblow...

Whew! It is a mysterious morning, is it real? That George was shot and Ballos and Marvin...

That Older Brother Marvin is dead already... At first Ballos is killed and brought by George in the hospital... and I thought I saw George driving....

Or is it a show? Or real killing story???

9:09 am

Still, have windblow...

What is the real story??? I feel pity on Uno... Where is Anne as well??? I hope Anne is fair... I can always be a friend...

I hope Anne is genuine,Anne is the oldest sister of Uno, she is the one that became my friend... I believed on her maturity that she showed to me but it was a long time ago, we just talked twice but I felt the maturity on her but of course we all have our childish heart every now & then...

We talked first in the swimming pool resort of their village, I forgot the name of their village. We just had a quick talk but I knew she is matured! We just talk about life and what am I doing? As far as I can remember I said taking my caregiving course though supposed to be going back to De La Salle to continue my Biology, to be a professor but I changed route going to Nightingale... Then, pandemic came in... I got stuck here for so long.... It was a given choices in life on how to survive.

2nd time was on the house of I forgot but one of my siblings rented on the extra house of Briones and particularly Marinelo or Nelo Briones was my schoolmate and villagemate here...

Then, Anne and her mother came so just had a matured chit-chat... Where we had a smooth bonding coz I thought I'll be going out of the country to simply work as in work... I have to calm myself, though not my ideal life or job to be a caregiver but it was a given choices to me by someone... One of the available choices on how to survive life, right? But not my ideal thing anymore to be a caregiver unless, I can own my own facilities... My own rules, my own ways of managing my own homecare...

It is just sad that Kuya Marvin or older brother Marvin is being shot by someone that we don't know why, for now... Well, life is sometimes a brotherhood thing that if you need to be with them, I don't know,either pure or blood.... But it is some kind of a rule that mature people understand...

Someone confirmed that Ballos was dead already after the shot or they are surviving him in the hospital...

Is this real or a big show???

Uncle Jun went out and let's wait for the update...

9:58 am

Still, have windblow ...

I hope Mitch is not a traitor...

There was one thing I didn't say about my nana... I didn't want my family to cry... But I'm not a doctor or a confirmed well-trained forensics.... I don't know but we are on war right? That I don't know where are my group...

I'm having confusion.... That I still want to see and longing to talk to Mitch... She is a real blood Caviteño but I don't know what is her mind these days, that I used to know her... But I still considered her my best friend.

Like with Ada, we never change even if it takes a thousand years that we lost touch then we will have time to meet again, we are still the same.... But why Mitch will evade me for so long???

Evade--escape or avoid, especially by cleverness or trickery.

Before my Nana died, I cleaned her vagina, remember? I checked her teeth, it is weird to think that someone took out her tooth? Or probably they didn't clean her teeth since December... I wasn't able to go back in Makati Med. coz I didn't have money...

My biological mother is a big confusion to me if she is genuine or not...

There are so many loopholes... But my nana was fulfilled and always a winner, that's the calming phrase that I will tell people and my family...

11 pm

Still, have windblow...

For sure Pussy Cats can't open this, our foodish assisted by Aunt Karen ...

Thanks, Aunt Karen....

12:38 noon

Still, have windblow...

Confirmed deaths Marvin, Ballos and councilor Era, Pepeh... According to Uncle DD...

Anyways, I'm preparing the garage sales, this is mixed I have some new items as well... Most stuff of nana but mixed of approved things to be disposed...

This is mixed with tag price and stars barter.... I just wanna see if people like us me and my nana coz these some stuff that I'm going to dispose, our souls are attached to these stuff...

If this activity will be successful meaning I can be successful in time, in the future...

But I still want new dresses and planning to sell brand new items in the future....

This is just a help for us here, to dispose and I wanna see people who are like me, humble, loving art and into fashion...

Like what I said stars barter and price tag ;) and HELP to dispose on good people who like me.

1:14 pm

Still, have windblow...

There are some pieces who are same with me but on different colors, meaning whoever got that piece that same with me, will be my new sisters...

1:26 pm

Still, have windblow...

Someone got my staple remover on the table... I feel bad, it is color pink... Who got it??

Missing pink staple remover?

I got it here, someone put it inside the plastics that I 100℅ surely just put it on the table...

2:31 pm

Still, have windblow...

I saw these, Aunt Teresa forgot to give these card to Aunt Ruby, her friend...

One for Aunt Rebecca.... Did Aunt Teresa forget to give these cards to her 2 friends????

2:40 pm

Still, have windblow...

It seems I'm ohkay but I have stress in me but I'm trying to manage to calm down...

I'm having headache and I need to breathe in and breathe out....

It is stressful to know that a trio died today...And why??? Whew!!! A lot of things in my head, will just rest and later have to manage John...

3:03 pm

Still, have windblow...

My biological mother is weird for sending me a voice message saying that my Mommy Teresa? Is she on a game??? Is she crazy or planning something???

3:27 pm

Still, have windblow...

On Friday probably I asked Aunt Karen if she wanted me to sell her goods like probably even a 5 bottles of bagoong or fish sauce, will be including it on my garage sales...

Just to put some spice on Friday, I hope there are some foodish to sell as trial. In fairness Aunt Karen is a good chef...

Someone put an empty white cup on the washing machine here? Was it Uncle DD?? What does it mean? Simply, coincidence???

6:23 pm

Still, have windblow...

I didn't know and I'm shocked to know that Pepe Era is the uncle of Tin and Kim Nana here, our villagemate and street mate here....

Based on her and Uncle Jun the killer was Sabater and I said it sounds like a Caviteño's surname...

The issue that I scooped was about the salary, that Sabater the killer but as well committed a suicide...

The issue was Sabater requested for his last salary but George said to provide a medical certificate as well as perhaps the rest of the gang. Or something like Sabater wanted to get his salary or an advance salary or the other angle was Sabater was being removed by Nonoy Ballos the baranggay captain...

Accidentally while walking John to do his business I saw Justin and Me-ann but I considered her as my Aunt though she was my friend but became an xgf of my Uncle Jun, they talked about the killing issue this morning. The same thing it was about salary thing. I said to Justin ( son of Marivic Velayo) it is really sad that it is about salary, why they didn't give it coz we all know that if a person doesn't have money, sometimes we will go nutzy... I'm just sharing an indirectly word of wisdom coz Justin owns a security company...

I just said if they have fundings that they know that the person is needing of money, a rule is sometimes can be bend most specially if that baranggay was created thru brotherhood and sisterhood...

Sabater asked for help that he needed the money coz of something but Tin said someone told them that Sabater was being absent for so long then, why he is expecting of salary, an another angle.

I always sent message to the head of call center I always explained my side that I needed money, I know somehow the emotion of the accidentally killer...

The Call Center is matured in a way that they end the relationship with money... They tried to explain why and how and end everything with money...

Work is important, why we work coz we all needed money. I beg in Call Center, I'm angry and calm and they respect my point, my words are sharp as knife like a killer....

Gets, my point angels...

But I was shorty and needing of help or assistance but if God made me big and if I have gun then probably, I will go desperate coz of money.....

My heart is religious, I beg and ask help and ask favour. I need to work and I need money. I dream big but I respect fate and my present situation but don't you ever made me feel that I'm a beggar and nothing coz you took away my work and my salary and my ego and my right to have the pride of having money...

Tin2x is a baby security, I'm shock... But I have the maturity not to interfere.... Her uncle died that is Pepe Era...

7:08 pm

Still, have windblow...

Waiting for foodish, waiting for Uncle Jun...

7:42 pm

Still, have windblow...

Why, Sabater got a gun??? Who, gave it to them???

8:29 pm

Still, have windblow...

Uncle Jun is waiting for Nonoy Ballos and He said Kuya Marvin will be on Ugnayan Cardinal in Alindog's service on Thursday....

Me? Still, recovering.... But will get a job and bf to assist me on money, someone on my list...

Where can I get a bf, angels??? Someone on my list...

I miss going to gym, I wanna have a car and go to Manila to get some fresh ambiance... I wanna gain friends....

I wanna have a car... I wanna get a bf, but I wanna have my own car..... I wanna be far from here if I can't get progress...

I still have my personal self-pity... I'm always a shadow... I don't like to be a shadow forever...

I need money.... I need a job and I hate commuting and I hate being a supporter and shadow forever of my siblings... Like Kookay & Lawrence, I need to be on that spot but I have to go far coz having a life with someone means growing and sparkling like them, that probably they will get jealous or envious of me...

I'm tired of being the beggar host of my family. Always thanks for the support but still I need money these days...

I will not cry if biological mother will die, it is time angels let my birth mother go home... I need to go up.

I wanna gain many friends and be active and productive... I wanna glow just for once.... 18 years I'm just a supporter probably Mitch is sparkling somewhere, life is a big mystery... I can't be seen....

[otomebubble]

side story: little guardians

itaru accompanies izumi to her childhood home, and finds himself under the suspicion of two little, mysterious spirits.

Itaru would like to pretend he was hallucinating, but the two sets of eyes, continuously peering at him as he minded his business in the toilet room of Izumi’s childhood home made it more difficult to concentrate on what he was supposed to do.

He would've happily finished minutes ago, put his phone aside to let his LP refill, relieved himself, washed his hands, and headed for dinner, if not for the two little heads staring at him right now. As it is, he was still fumbling over his phone, even after farming for important items in his game, scrolling through his social media, and pretending he couldn't see them, hoping they would disappear already.

He didn't want to acknowledge them, because acknowledging them meant he would have to acknowledge his delusions, and he refused to do that.

"Yuki-kun… " He heard the pink-haired child mutter. "We should go. I think, I-I think we've seen enough."

The green-haired one aka the one who also likes to make snide comments whenever given the chance, tsked. "He can't see us, Muku."

"I-I don't like watching people in the bathroom though!"

At this point, Itaru might accidentally wet his pants, and he wasn't about to explain why that happened to Izumi. He needed to pee. Now. Sighing inwardly, there was only one route to go in this scenario.

He finally cleared his throat, and looked at them directly. "I need to go."

Staring at them made them glaringly real, which was supposed to be impossible. The two creatures were both crouched on the floor, dressed in traditional yukatas, and appeared similar in ages. The one called Yuki adorned a red, silky cloth with a flowery pattern, and a matching headband. The child would look cuter if not for the displeased and suspicious stare they shot him, as if the child was offended by Itaru's entire existence or something similar. The other one was dressed similarly in a light blue color with cloud patterns on the sleeves, but his eyes looked startled and guilty, almost teary-eyed.

Muku shot up, almost apologetically. "He can see us! Yuki-kun, I'm sorry! It's because I failed to glamour both of us as toilet paper!"

Yuki ignored his partner, and stared back with equal ferocity. "So go."

Itaru began to sweat nervously. "Um."

As if reading his thoughts on his appearance, the one called Yuki narrowed his eyes. "I'm a boy."

Itaru didn't mean that; he actually preferred if no one watched him at all as he relieved himself.

"We'll turn around, so you can do your business." Yuki explained further. 

Once again, Itaru didn't have an answer to that.

An awkward silence started, before Muku pushed him through the door. They didn't exactly push it open, rather melted into wood, and into the other side. 

Itaru could feel his sanity slipping away, trying to think of reasons and explanations of what he just saw, and wondered how to approach the topic of Izumi's house being haunted by two little children.

Itaru was sleep-deprived and he didn't care. After the unusual encounter in the bathroom, Itaru felt slightly paranoid about running into the two children again and forgot to sleep halfway through the night. Thus, he had no choice but to tolerate Izumi's one and half hours of driving through the roads the next morning, for her college roommate's wedding, their sole reason for staying at her childhood home in first place, being that it was closer to the venue than any other expensive, overnight hotel. 

This wasn't the first he had seen those creatures, to be precise, but yesterday's confrontation was definitely the first they approached him of their own volition, in the privacy of the toilet room. Maybe it was the only time they could corner him, without Izumi hovering nearby. 

Since he arrived at her childhood home, he'd been on the receiving end of multiple, and unexplainable occurrences, mostly his phone dying in the middle of the night, despite being fully charged, a missing toothbrush that he swore he placed among his belongings, his Switch refusing to turn on, and several other annoyances that raised his blood pressure. 

He half wondered if Izumi's childhood home, with its traditional tatami flooring, sliding shoji doors, and ofuran, was haunted, and wondered if he could suggest bringing a priest or priestess from a Temple nearby to pray away their presence. He wanted to approach the topic that particular morning, but they were too busy readying themselves for the formal occasion, and he was too tired to remember it.

By the time they arrived at the venue, however, he was dead on his feet, half remembering events through a hazy mind, and wondering briefly why one of the groomsmen looked familiar, and why the cake resembled a gundam for a second. 

In any case, everything went by in a blur in his mind. Part of him was surprised he was still standing, talking, and faking laughter and small talk with the other guests when all he wanted to do was go back to the car and sleep.

Perhaps, it was exhaustion that made his smile faker than usual, his responses taking a second beat too long, and why he didn't notice the worried glances Izumi kept shooting him.

It was only during a lull at the reception afterwards, that she finally confronted him, her brow creased in worry. "You alright? You haven't touched your phone in a while."

He finally gave her a long look, finally noticed the effort she put into her appearance today, the soft pink color and black lines that widened her eyes, the subtle gloss that made her lips fuller, off-shoulder halter dress that showcased her long throat, with the gemstone necklace around completing the look. Her long, brown hair was tied in a knot, resting at the base of her neck, while the rest fell in carefully and articulately done locks. It was subtle and sweet. Itaru knew Izumi wasn't trying to be beautiful, and yet he still found her ten times more attractive than the other guests who kept pestering him.

And maybe more beautiful than the bride herself, but she'd probably cringe if he said that loud, maybe even hit him.

Suddenly, his fingers twitched, wanting to touch her, even just a little.

Before he could stop himself, Itaru reached out to brush a lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her right ear, carefully without ruining her makeup. Izumi froze, blinking unexpectedly at the contact.

"Eh?" She muttered dumbly.

"Sorry, it was bothering me."

They stared at each other, quite awkwardly, before Itaru cleared his throat.

Itaru started. "I wanted to ask you-"

Voices interrupted again, and Itaru silently cursed his luck. 

Fuck it. He'll just deal with the problematic children on his own.

Itaru's phone died while in the middle of a combo. He had an inkling at whose fault it was, and he glared at the two creatures peering at him at the corner of the room.

Dammit.

"You're not entirely human are you?" Yuki crossed his arms.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He debated answering, questioning what exactly the small child meant, but that would, once again, imply he was acknowledging in some manner, that there are little spirits existing inside Izumi's home, who had a habit of slipping through walls and driving him insane.

Also, what would Izumi think if she suddenly walked in here and saw him talking to empty air?

Itaru supposed that ship has sailed long ago, as she has already caught him talking to his prized anime figurine collection during his private hours but-

"Yuki-kun… " The one called Muku tugged at the sleeves of Yuki's yukata. "I don't think he can hear us."

"Yes, he can." Yuki gestured at him. "He's glaring at us right now. Tch."

Tilting his head, Muku gave him a closer look, and Itaru narrowed his eyes. The small one flinched, scurrying behind Yuki again, as if Yuki could protect him from his foul mood.

"I don't like you." Yuki emphasized.

Same.

Itaru gave the child another once-over, and wondered how something like this lived in this house during Izumi's absence. Perhaps, it was time to suggest an exorcist after all.

As if sensing his thoughts, Yuki snorted. "Nice try, but you can't kick us out of here."

Time to bite the bullet. "What's your problem?"

No, that didn't sound petty at all.

Stepping forward, Yuki looked down at him over the bridge of his nose. "I know you're not exactly human, and I want to know what your relationship is with Izumi."

That was a loaded question, and Itaru didn't think there were enough words, or time, to be precise, to describe his connection to Izumi, much less define the relationship.

So, Itaru responded back with a question. "Why?"

Itaru watched Yuki's expression race, as if trying to find the perfect answer on how to gauge the situation. "Because you're a dangerous yokai."

What?

This time, Muku peeked from behind Yuki, casting him a speculative look, but there was a frown on his face now, at odds with his earlier look. Now, it was as if Muku was also trying to unravel Itaru's mystery as well, and how he came into being.

Yuki's face suddenly fell into an exasperated expression, as if explaining everything suddenly seemed too much, and he didn't want to bother either. "Whatever, shitty elite. If you hurt her, I will end you here, co-worker or not."

At that, Itaru couldn't stop his mind from speculating. A long time ago, from old folktales he'd read and heard, there were guardian-like creatures called zashiki-warashi that resided in some homes. Acting as the sole protectors, they were childlike in appearances despite their powers. Some say seeing them actually meant good luck and blessings upon those who saw them. Blinking, Itaru wondered if Yuki and Muku were the same, if not more.

"Are you-"

The sliding door opened, and Izumi peeked inside, eyes sparkling in excitement. "Itaru! I found it!"

He blinked at her dumbly, quickly noticing the children have vanished into thin air again, before he faced her. "... What?"

"My old robot collection-" Izumi stopped, after realizing he wasn't paying attention, his eyes drifting back to the corner where Yuki and Muku stood moments ago. "What's wrong? Why do you keep looking over there?"

"Do you have dead cousins?" He asked her, very seriously.

"Cousins?"

Itaru shook his head. "Nevermind. Where'd you found them?"

They planned to leave this morning, with Izumi doing some last minute cleaning, to make sure everything was in place. Itaru was passing by the room he'd been using for the last couple days, when he spotted her kneeling inside.

Itaru did a double-take when he noticed her arranging stacks of shoujo manga, candies, headbands, and yukatas in one far corner of the room, the last place he conversed with the two children.

"What are those?"

Izumi hesitated before answering. "... Stuff."

He watched her carefully place two stuffed animal bears, taking care not to disturb the arrangement she made. Then she glanced over her shoulder and frowned, noticing him still standing there.

Izumi huffed. "What?"

"What are you doing?" He couldn't hide the disbelief in his tone.

"Nothing." She sounded defensive, a pout crossing her features.

Before he could ask more questions, Izumi pushed him outside the room, much more forceful than he expected, and promised to buy him more app cards if he waited out in the hall.

He had a nagging feeling Izumi wouldn't explain, even if he pushed, but it did answer his questions. Izumi knew about their existence, and she didn't want to elaborate.

The keychain resembled a tessen, like the old weapons he read from history books and video games set in Ancient Japan. He was palming it in his hand again, remembering the unusual way he came about this tiny thing. The fact that it could shrink and grow in size, and maybe let him see beyond the physical realm.

Briefly, Itaru wondered if it was the sole reason why he encountered the two, and why the child, Yuki, seemed so suspicious of him, and the unusual words Yuki said. Briefly wondered if this was also the reason for the strange happenings lately, the dreams, voices, and her.

Itaru was eyeing the keychain so intently, he didn't notice Izumi leaning closer, peering at the palm of his hand. 

"What's that?"

He jumped, and then schooled his expression carefully. "Stuff."

Izumi leaned closer. "Looks neat! Where'd you get it?"

He poked her forehead, pushing her back into her seat. "You're unusually curious today."

She huffed. "You've been staring at it for five minutes, and I've been sitting here waiting for you to start the car. Unless… you want me to drive again today?"

Izumi ended her inquiry with an innocent blink, tilting her head to the side for effect.

Don't play cute with me.

He shot her a fake smile. "No, thanks."

[landofzero-archive]

Nagisa Ran - If There is a Connection

Event: Kiseki ★ Blitzkrieg Autumn Live

Episode 1:

(Location: Shuuetsu Hallway)

Nagisa: …… Um, Anzu-san?

…… Ah, that’s good. I wasn’t mistaken about your name.

…… To meet you in a place like this– what are you doing here alone?

Option 1: Actually, I got lost……

(Response A)

Nagisa: …… Is that so? Then we’re in this predicament together.

…… Yes, I’m lost as well.

…… It shouldn’t be so vast. It’s far too easy to get lost in this school.

(Response B)

Nagisa: …… Where do you need to go? Hopefully it’s somewhere I can navigate to.

…… Yes, I’ll show you the way. When I visited Yumenosaki Academy, I remember you helped guide me to the student council room.

…… It’s a good thing to help and be kind to each other.

Option 2: I came to watch the lesson 

(Response A)

Nagisa: …… Lesson? Whose lesson?

…… Ah, I see. Those children from Yumenosaki are here, right?

…… Sorry, I couldn’t remember it properly. I need to refresh my memory with the materials Ibara prepared for me.

(Response B)

Nagisa: …… I see. To meet you again like this, it must be fate.

…… I was a little surprised, I only recall there being those children from Trickstar being here yesterday. 

…… Ah, thank you very much. I apologize for greeting you so late, it’s nice to meet you here.

Episode 2:

(Location: Shuuetsu Academy front gates)

Nagisa: …… Ah, we meet again.

…… Just now, who was I talking to? I'm not quite sure who that was.

…… I see… Someone you don’t know. I was approached there and asked to answer a questionnaire.

Option 1: So what happened?

(Response A)

Nagisa: …… I tried to answer it, but since I couldn’t understand what it was asking I could hardly come up with answers.

…… What is the meaning behind the questions? What is the significance of soliciting the survey in the first place? Then I asked him about what his purpose in life was…

…… For some reason, he suddenly remembered he had something to do and left.

(Response B)

Nagisa: “Fuhahahaha! What a stupid question! Bow your head and apologize!”

…… I forgot to act in character again. I forgot about it earlier, too.

…… I remembered and tried to say the same line as I just said, but it seemed to surprise him and he ran away.

Option 2: Was it a catch sale?

(Response A)

Nagisa: …… I suppose so. The purpose of what I was being asked earlier must have been to get me to buy something expensive.

…… It’s fine, though. I almost finished the questionnaire but I never signed it. 

…… Ibara told me it’d be best if I didn’t sign anything unless it was for work.

(Response B)

Nagisa: …… What is a catch?

…… Huh? Did I say something funny?

…… Sorry. Without Ibara, it’s difficult to express myself properly.

Episode 3:

(Location: Shuuetsu hallway at night)

Nagisa: …… Ah– Anzu-san. Have you seen Tsumugi around here?

…… We were together not long ago but before I knew it we were separated.

…… I shouldn’t have gazed out that window.

Option 1: Should I contact him?

(Response A)

Nagisa: …… Ah, I see… I could have contacted him with a smartphone.

…… I find it troublesome to operate so I often forget it exists.

…… I have one but I’m hopeless at using it. Sorry, could you contact him for me?

(Response B)

Nagisa: …… Yes, it’d be helpful if you could do that.

…… I’m not in trouble, but it’s likely Tsumugi-kun is.

…… I hope he wasn’t left behind in the bathroom or something like that.

Option 2: What was outside the window?

(Response A)

Nagisa: …… The stars were shining beautifully tonight.

…… A romanticist? I don’t understand what makes you see me that way but when compared to Ibara I suppose you have a point.

…… It seems that we all have different values.

(Response B)

Nagisa: …… Nothing. I was just wondering if it was already nighttime.

…… Were you working so hard on your lesson that you lost track of time?

…… No, I had almost entirely free time today. Rather than losing track of time through lessons, I got lost in my excavation work.

[cursingtoji]

Royals

Pairing: Gojo x Roality/Sorcerer!Reader

Summary: Yuji was told by his sensei that someone very special was coming to evaluate his new cursed energy.

Warning: fem pronouns, slightly suggestive, hickeys, established relationship.

a/n: naruto's anbu uniform is what i based reader's outfit off, so keep that in mind i guess? i apologize if i forgot some tag in the warnings, feel free to point anything out to me. thank u and enjoy <3

“How pontual” Gojo smiled when he felt your presence on the top of the building he was standing along with Yuji.

“Huh?” Yuji looked around confused till he saw a black silhouette behind him.

“Hope you don’t mind Yuji-kun, I wanted a professional opinion and called a friend”.

“Are you sure this is the best place to do this Gojo?” You asked going around the boy with pink hair staring at his figure and sensing his cursed energy.

The building you agreed to meet him was one of the tallest in Tokyo, you could barely see the people on the streets from here.

“Sensei, is your friend a ninja?” Yuji asked, staring back at your figure, your black outfit left no skin to be shown while the kitsune mask covered your whole face and two swords remained crossed at your back.

“You worry too much Princess, don’t you believe I am the strongest?” You frown upon the use of the pet name. Yuji tilted his head to the side.

“I just don’t want things to go out of control” you moved your hands to remove the kitsune mask, your identity would still be protected by the mask that covered your nose and mouth beneath it, but Gojo stopped your hands as soon as you approached him.

“Keep it on until we finish okay?” He smiled, although he did not say anything else this was enough for you to understand he did not want the curse inside Yuji to cross eyes with you. “I’ll explain later, Yuji, now can you give us ten seconds with Sukuna?” Gojo stretched his arms preparing for a quick battle.

You moved to the corner of the building to give him space but still keeping an eye on the pink haired kid.

He was so young...

Black marks soon appeared on the kid’s body and the new cursed energy overwhelmed you making a shiver run up your spine.

As the heir of a clan that for centuries has the ability to control cursed energy, this scared you.

Sukuna’s energy was enough to destroy a big city like Tokyo as easily as a snap of a finger. In the past your clan helped Sukuna by increasing his cursed energy during battles but in the end, your clan also helped destroy Sukuna by suppressing his cursed energy as much as they could. Gojo asked you to come watch a quick demonstration, if the plan succeeded and Yuji managed to live long enough to eat all Sukuna’s fingers, it would be just a matter of time until the king of curses took control of the vessel and attempted some kind of mass destruction. If the time comes you wanted to be able to perform the same act that your clan did in the past.

Although, since Sukuna’s downfall your clan did not act as sorcerers anymore, instead they turned into rulers and politicians, living in big cities as Tokyo and controlling cursed energy just by existing there, a natural balance to the modern world, they would tell you, but none of this changed your mind when you decided to break the chain and become a sorcerer almost ten years ago.

The fight started when Sukuna ran towards Gojo murmuring something about seeing him again. Gojo controlled the situation fast by immobilizing Sukuna on the floor, far enough to not harm you.

“So?” Gojo asked, looking at your direction.

“You asked me to not do anything so I can’t say for sure, but I think it’s possible” you answered the white haired man.

Sukuna’s attention now was brought to you, he tried to read your cursed energy, you sensed that, but with the kitsune mask covering your face and eyes you doubt he recognized you as part of the clan that caused his downfall one thousand years ago.

Gojo again smiled at you, proud of you being able to take such a fast reading without messing with Sukuna’s energy, which he asked you to not do.

It would be better for everyone if Sukuna doesn’t make a target of you so soon.

“Alright, guess we are done for now” Gojo raised as soon as Yuji took back control of his body. You watched amazed as the cursed energy came back to a normal level.

Gojo asked Ijichi to drive Yuji back to the school and promised to talk to Yuji in the morning.

“I don’t know, Satoru. There’s only so much I can do alone, and I’m sure the rest of my clan won’t get involved with Sukuna if he returns. This is a huge responsibility for me...” you stopped talking, not even wanting to consider the possibility of such a powerful curse having complete control to do whatever he pleases and you not being able to do much by yourself.

“I won’t put you in danger, but for now it would be good if you could stick around Yuji, just to observe... I can put a good word for you with Yaga” Gojo dropped his arm around your shoulder playfully.

“You really want me to stay at jujutsu tech Tokyo just to keep an eye on him?” You removed the kitsune mask, now allowing Gojo to see your teasing eyes.

“I have my own selfish reasons too”.

The next morning Yuji crossed his path with Nanami around the school, having worked together once Yuji felt comfortable with asking Nanami about his sensei’s friend.

“Oi Nanami, do you know Gojo-sensei’s ninja friend? I met them last night but still don’t know what happened”.

Nanami stared at Yuji like he was speaking some foreign language “...Ninja?”

The elder was about to ask him to elaborate when the said sensei turned around the corner with you by his side.

“Gojo-san, Ojou-sama” Nanami bowed low when he noticed you coming closer.

“Ojou-sama?” Yuji looked at the person walking to them alongside Gojo. He did not recognize you at first, you now were using a colored Yukata and nothing covering your face.

“Nanami please, you know me long enough to drop this title” you smiled at your friend.

Yuji quickly made the connection between Nanami using the princess title and Gojo calling you Princess yesterday.

“Oh sensei, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. You two make a beautiful couple” Yuji smiled.

“Itadori, show respect, Y/n-sama is an actual royal” Nanami whispered to Yuji.

After the downfall of Sukuna your clan reigned for a while, being the heir of the main clan branch and if your clan was still reigning that would technically make you a princess. Nanami insisted on referring to you as Ojou-sama in public even though you two attended school together years ago and long passed the formal titles.

“Sorry” Yuji bowed, still confused.

“It’s okay Itadori-kun, we will have enough time to get to know each other” you assured the pink haired boy.

“You are moving here?” Nanami asked.

“Isn’t it great?” Gojo smiled widely, now placing his arms on your shoulders and Nanami’s. “It will be like old times again”.

“Yaga accepted my request to stay on the campus and assist the kids,” you explained Nanami. Of course he knew that by ‘the kids’ you mean Itadori and his new found cursed energy.

“What a great set of teachers you will have Yuji-kun” Gojo tight his grip around you and Nanami “Why don’t you go find Fushiguro and Kugusaki while I show y/n her room?”.

“Yes, sensei!” Yuji smiled and bowed again before leaving to find his team mates.

“Let’s keep y/n secret between us, okay Nanami?” Gojo asked now that the three of you were alone. “Sukuna might not find out about y/n’s origins if she doesn’t mess with his or Itadori’s energy, the elders agreed to keep her around for now as protection”.

“I see… Well let me know if you need anything, Ojou-sama” Namami replied and fixed his tie.

“I need you to stop using that title, Kento” you smiled again at your stubborn friend and dropped Gojo’s arm from your shoulder going back to the path that led to your dorm.

“Always so polite, Nanamin” Gojo teased “Just don’t forget I’m the only one allowed to get on my knees for her” he released Nanami’s shoulder leaving his fellow sorcerer flushed.

“What did you tell him?” you asked Gojo when he got back to your side.

“Nothing he doesn’t know already” his large palm touched your lower back.

Your arrangements with Gojo were something known only by the heads of your clan, the two of you and few close friends. A promise made almost ten years ago allowed you to attend jujutsu tech and become a sorcerer if the only descendant of the Gojo clan married you by the time both of you got to your thirties. There was nothing in it for Satoru, but he agreed even though he barely left his teenage years.

“Satoru, What are we gonna do now?” you asked looking at your feet.

“We can start by getting you a pretty uniform, maybe a short skirt and a v-line” the hand that wasn’t at your back moved to the collar of your Yukata exposing more of your neck and collar bones and all the purple and blue marks painted there “A masterpiece like that has to be shown”.

“You are shameless” you slapped his hand away and adjusted your Yukata back. His flirty personality taking your mind away from the new responsibility of being Yuji’s guardian. “You know, we are two years away from the arrangements and I still wonder why you accepted it” you confessed, stopping in your tracks.

“Oh Princess, I’ll always be taking the side of rebel soul and you so happened to be the one that stole my heart from day one, you are not getting cold feet now, are ya?” he leaned and placed his arm on the wall behind you, an old habit that made you flushed when you two were younger, but now you can only bite your lips and raise a hand to lower his blindfold and meet his shining eyes full of admiration.

“Marrying the prince that saved me and the strongest jujutsu sorcerer? How could I get scared of that?”.

“Prince huh? I can get used to it”.

© all content belongs to cursedmoonchild. please do not modify or repost; if you find reposted content please let me know, i have not consented to the repost of my content

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

Chapter 5: All I Know Since Yesterday Is Everything Has Changed

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Hey there! So this took me a bit longer than expected but here it is! I should probably mention that it's an angsty one. Sorry. I hope you guys enjoy it. I'd love to get some feedback :)

Chapter 5: All I Know Since Yesterday Is Everything Has Changed

She woke that morning wishing she didn’t have to leave her room for the rest of the month. That was going to be difficult, however. Kaz would come to drag her out himself if he had to. She knew he would. It was probably best to avoid angering him any further. He had made his anger quite clear the night before.

---

Kaz had sent everyone away for the night after having heard their reports and studying the plans for a few more minutes. His gloved fingers had wrapped themselves tightly around her wrist when she’d tried to slip past him.

“Can you get the job done? Or do I have to worry I’ll lose my corporalnik to a king?” His voice had been heavy with disdain.

“Of course, I can do the job, Kaz! How long have I been working for you?” she’d felt panic rise in her, making her nauseous.

“I’ve known Jesper even longer. Doesn’t mean he hasn’t disappointed me.” He snickered. “You haven’t answered my question, Y/N.” The way he’d said her name had sent a shiver down her spine. It had been a barely hidden warning.

“Kaz…” her voice had broken. Would he send me back to Tante Ingrid? She simply couldn’t tell.

“Start tailoring Nikolai and yourself back. I’ll see you in the morning. Do not be late.”

She’d spent the next 3 hours tailoring the king, who threatened to ruin her life by occupying her every thought, and then herself. Nikolai had at least had the decency to stay quiet this time around. She had been far from done when they’d called it a night, but she’d judged it would be enough to keep Kaz off her back.

---

Y/N got ready quickly, keeping Kaz’s warning in mind. She shrugged off her nightgown. She’d slept terribly. She pulled her white shirt over her head, tucking it in the pants she’d chosen for the day. Her mind kept travelling back to Nikolai’s kiss and Kaz’s terrifying fury. She loosely tied the strings at her shirt’s collar, letting the delicate bow rest on her chest. Her brain seemed to be stuck playing both moments repeatedly. It was ridiculous. Nikolai had only kissed her to keep up the act. There was no reason to jeopardize her place with the crows over something so meaningless. So why couldn’t her mind stop bringing it up?

When she finally reached the music room that currently served as their boss’ office, Inej sent her a look of pity from her perch on Kaz’s armchair. Great, she thought, Kaz is still mad.

Jesper and Wylan were lounging, limbs tangled, on a small couch. She nodded to them, returning their greetings, making her way to the opened glass-paneled doors leading to the garden. She watched Marya Hendriks paint while they waited for Nikolai and Zoya to join them. The older woman was working on a beautiful landscape of the Geldcanal. Y/N focused whole-heartedly on the paintbrush strokes letting them erase the memories of the previous night from her mind as they went. She knew it wasn’t permanent, the problem would still exist once Marya stopped painting, but it brought her comfort for the time being.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, your royal highness” Kaz’s raspy voice brought her back to the present. His rage and disdain were barely leashed. She turned in time to catch the surprised look on Nikolai’s face. She might have thought it was funny if she wasn’t so scared of what Kaz could do.

“Good morning, are my general and I late?” Nikolai schooled his feature into a charming grin. “Though, you know, I was under the impression that Kings couldn’t be late, everyone else is simply early.”

Just when Y/N thought it was impossible, Kaz’s eyes darkened further. Nikolai had managed to make him angrier somehow. Kaz sneered, “You are late.” They were in for a horrible day.

The air felt colder than it had a few minutes prior to the Ravkans’ arrival. Kaz continued, “The first part of the job was a success. However, that was the easy part.” He sent a pointed look her way. “The next part will require everyone to follow the plan to the letter.”

She flinched. Kaz isn’t mad. He is livid. She moved away from the open doors opting to take place on the arm of the couch where Wylan and Jesper were still lounging. Jesper reached for her, letting his hand rest on her thigh, giving it a small squeeze as if he felt her distress. She was thankful for that small gesture. It would help her endure Kaz’s wrath.

“I still need time to figure everything out. These blueprints do give us the layout of the factory and the warehouse, but we still don’t have the guards’ rounds schedule. We’ll also need to find out the shipment schedule.”

Inej interrupted him “I’ll take care of that. Just keep planning, I do quite enjoy your scheming face.” Y/N always loved getting a glimpse of their relationship. It was always subtle, but they clearly did love each other. It was endearing how much they did.

Kaz’s features seemed to soften a bit at that. “Of course, my darling. Perhaps General Nazyalensky can be of some assistance.”

Zoya nodded. “Sure, we’ll get you the information. Just make sure we have a way out with the plans and the prototypes we need.”

Kaz nodded and turned back to Y/N his gaze cold and hard. “You’re not done with your tailoring.” It wasn’t a question, it was a critic. She felt a chill travel down her back. “You have to finish this morning before either of you can leave the house.” He considered her for a moment. “Use your room. We can’t risk a servant seeing you like this.”

-----

They’d left the room a few minutes later. Y/N leading the way to her room at the Hendriks mansion. She had been quiet, practically ignoring him the whole way. Only turning to him once to check if he was following her. Her brows were furrowed. Nikolai wasn’t sure if she was mad at him or scared. Scared of what? Me? Or Brekker?

Nikolai now watched her from his seat at the end of the bed as she readied her tailoring kit. She had tailored her body back the night before, but she still had ways to go before she was sporting her beautiful features again. She had her back turned to him, her olive pants hugging the soft curves of her hips just right. Nikolai’s mind kept travelling back to the night before and the outfit the Grisha had chosen for the day wasn’t helping him at all. He wanted to rest his hands on her hips and pull her body to his. He wanted to feel her comforting curves pressed against him, closer than they had been the night before, the fabric of her skirt no longer in the way.

He watched her finally settle in front of the mirrored desk, raising her hands to her face. He was glad she was starting with herself. It would give him time to gain full control of his brain again. He observed the careful movements of her fingers for what felt like hours. He was grateful for the time she’d bought him, until he saw her face as she made her way to him. He couldn’t help but glance at her full lips. He wondered just how different it would feel to kiss her now. Saints, I forgot just how naturally gorgeous she was. The urge to pull her closer was threatening to overwhelm him.

“So, I guess I’m only undoing my own tailoring? Not Genya Safin’s? You still need to look like Sturmhond.” She sounded guarded.

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle how handsome I really look.” He saw her jaw tick. Saints, what a stupid thing to say. And why did I wink at her again? She’s obviously uncomfortable.

He watched her carefully as she came to a stop, standing between his thighs. Nikolai could feel his heart hammering in his chest. She was standing so close he worried she could hear it. If she did, she made no mention of it. “This is gonna hurt. Tell me if you need a break.” She sounded determined; all traces of her previous insecurity gone. He only nodded, not trusting his voice with her standing so close to him, her floral scent drifting his way due to the soft breeze coming from the open window.

Her fingers were surprisingly cold against his skin. He felt the familiar itch of tailoring as she started before the pain of bone remodeling fully settled in. He tried to stay as still as possible, focusing on the concentration etched in the girl’s features instead of the pain. He felt her set his jaw back, making sure Sturmhond’s characteristically pointed chin was just right. She had made a few adjustments the night before, but she hadn’t done any major alterations. He kept watching her as she set the rest of his face back. Her shirt had slipped dangerously lower on her chest as she worked. The small bow coming lose. It was driving Nikolai completely crazy. He wanted to reach out and finish untying the damned strings. He didn’t think he could take much more of this absolute torture. She was almost done with reworking the bone when he saw her bite her bottom lip, completely lost in her work. He was about to finally lose the last sliver of decency he had been holding on to for the last hour when she straightened up suddenly. She backed away to take in her work.

“I think that should be it for facial structure. I’ll work on your eyes next, and I’ll finish with your hair.” She seemed more at ease now. Whatever had been bothering her almost forgotten.

She took her place back between his legs reaching up to his face once more. Her fingers came to rest on his cheek.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was a mistake.” Nikolai blurted out. He could’ve sworn he saw hurt flash in Y/N’s beautiful green eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He must have imagined it. He saw her straighten her spine, her shoulders tensing up.

“Whatever, we got out. We got the job done. It doesn’t matter.” Any scrap of ease she’d gained was gone as she turned her back to him, taking a few steps towards the mirrored desk. Why did you have to open your mouth? Nikolai Nothing. Nikolai the Bastard. Pretender. Nikolai the fool. He had clearly upset her.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you. Brekker told me you worked at one of the pleasure houses before… I just – I didn’t mean to cross a line.”

She whirled back towards him. Fury burning in her deep green eyes. “He had no right.” she hissed. Her rage melted quickly however, leaving her looking panicked. Nikolai saw her hands start to shake before she clenched her fists.

Another blunder. “He only told me because I asked about your tattoo.” Her hand flew to the bare skin of her arm hiding the iris burned into her skin from him. I am only making it worse, he realized. I should really learn to stop talking so much.

She lowered her head. “He’s going to send me back.” Her voice was trembling. She sounded absolutely terrified at the idea. Nikolai wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her. Why would she think that? Surely Brekker wouldn’t do that. She’s a corporalnik. If Brekker is actually stupid enough to part with such a gifted Grisha, she could have a place with the Second Army. She could have a place in Ravka… She could have a place with me.

“You could–” Nikolai didn’t get to finish his sentence. Inej had opened the door and walked in carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

“Figured, you two were probably hungry!” Her warm smile faltered when she saw Y/N’s expression. “Everything alright?”

“Thank you Inej. You are absolutely right!” She laughed; all traces of her panic gone. “I’m starving. I could eat a stack of waffles as tall as you!” A talented corporalnik and actress, Nikolai thought.

-----

tagged: @power-of-words23

[liyuesbian]

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

[k-comfyspace]

Moment

Star: Jeon Heejin, Kim Hyunjin (Loona)

Idea: No

A bond stronger than anything in the world meant for the two people that were destined, but what if the world gave you something unexpected, something better than what was already happening➶?

A/n: It was a random idea I had in my head, hope it’s not too much of a stretch😂

They believe that when the earth was created, there was a myth that something had its own pair: the clouds with the sky, the moon with the stars, and the trees with the flowers.

This often applied to the people who lived on this planet, two people who were destined to stay together and were connected by an unbreakable connection.

Where one day you will meet your other half and you will love each other until the end of time.

A bond stronger than existence itself because you are both linked in every way, or Soulmates.

It was a concept that appeared difficult to believe, rumors that they were supposed to be with each other and that they could feel each other's physical sensations.

Everyone dismissed it at first, saying it was impossible and false, before they found it themselves a few years later and were proven wrong. Which continued for years until it became widespread.

That everyone would find their true love, the one with whom they would spend the remaining days with.

You waited in line, clutching your book as a small smile made it to your features before taking a seat in front of the first girl, "Hi, what’s your name?" You handed her the book, watching as she flipped to the page she was supposed to be writing on,

"Y/n," you replied, watching as the younger girl raised her head to look at you, eyes scanning before she asked, "Y/n? Is that you?"

"You shouldn’t really be asking your fans such questions, Hyejoo," you replied playfully, your voice teasing as the girl showed you a bright smile, "It’s been a while. How are you?" she asked, scribbling down on the book while you hummed,

"Been super busy lately, thankfully I had some free time to come here," Hyejoo grinned at you and slid the album back to you as you moved to the next person who seemed to be as happy when she heard you talking to her member.

"Wow, it’s been such a long time, Y/n," you giggled at the younger woman’s comment as she scribbled your name without asking,

“You girls assume too much. What if it’s just a coincidence? There are a lot of people named Y/n in the world," Chaewon laughed at your comment as she handed you the album,

"There are, but there’s only one Y/n that would talk to us like that," she said before the staff asked you to move over, throwing a playful glare at her jab.

"Hi, how are you, what’s your name?" The energetic girl came next, making you giggle when she didn’t seem to hear your conversation with the woman before her,

"Y/n, I'm fine, thank you," you replied, watching Jiwoo nod and write your name. "Your name is Y/n too? We know someone named Y/n," she replied, writing her signature on the bottom and handing you the album, "Really, you should introduce me sometime,"

You said, making the girl meet your eyes when she found a little familiarity in your voice,

"Y/n-ah?" You smiled behind your mask, nodding in confirmation before hearing the girl squeal, smiling brightly as she took your hands in hers, shaking them excitedly as you tried to match her energy,

"We missed you so much!" You squeezed her hands in response. As the manager asked you to move, you smiled at Jiwoo and moved on.

As the fan sign continued, the rest of the members showed their smiles and didn’t hide their excitement when they met you.

Most of the fans just thought that it was normal since they repeatedly said in most of their lives that they missed orbits so much. When you arrived in front of Haseul, you signaled for the girl to be quiet, motioning to the two members who were playing with each other, the older girl nodding as she smiled.

You gave Haseul your eye smile, squeezing her hand as she held it before moving to the side where Hyunjin turned to smile at you, yet to recognize who you were when she asked for your album,

"Hello, what's your name?" she asked, flipping through the pages before stopping at her picture, "Y/n," you answered seeing the small smile on her face before she nodded scribbling down your name and a small smile.

Though before you moved to the last member, you pulled something beside you, lifting the paper bag and handing her the plushie inside. Hyunjin giggled when you pulled out the bread plushie.

Taking it in her hands and embracing it, you pulled down your mask a little, calling the busy cat as she squished it in her hands. Hyunjin glanced up, her eyes going wide when you showed her your smile,

"Y/n?" Your name being familiar to Heejin’s ears, caused her to turn, seeing your face before you covered it back up again.

The bright smile that overcame both of their faces was satisfying to see, "It is you! How have you been?" she asked, but before you could answer, the manager was already telling you to move, giving the cat an apologetic gaze when you saw her pout, so you told her instead, "Let’s meet up when you’re free."

Moving to Heejin, the bunny took your album and finished it quickly, wanting to talk to you as you gave her your present. Like Hyunjin, you gave Heejin the exact same plushie, adoring the look that she had when you showed it to her.

Holding out her hands, Heejin held yours in hers, smiling when she saw your eye smile, imagining your smile behind your mask before you eventually stepped off the stage, back to your seat.

You’ve been friends with the girls for about a year now, having known Heejin when she was training and being classmates with Yerim made the two of you become closer again until before you knew it, you were friends with her whole group.

You were the hidden member as they liked to call you, always hanging out in their dorm and acting like you were living with them for years.

Though you were particularly close to the first and second members, they still treated you like their long lost sister. Along with that, you were relieved to have people that didn’t always pester you about your life, constantly asking you about whether you’ve found your soulmate, or if you have plans on finding them.

You were getting sick of it, but when you met them, even if they each had their own, they never once asked, never brought it up.

Though they teased you by being so lovey-dovey, you didn't mind because you knew it was all in good fun, and they weren't trying to show you something that would make you feel pressured or sad.

In fact, they gave you an opening to tease them back, giving them a pinch on the arm, or purposely pinching their cheeks too hard, which you knew both would feel. It was like getting two birds with one stone.

"Thank you everyone, this has been Loona!"

You clapped for the girls as they each left the stage, sending their fans hearts and smiles before everyone left soon after.

--

It took Heejin and Hyunjin a couple of days to text you asking if you were free to head down to the dorm, which you didn’t deny, washing up before you left. When you arrived, you received hugs from all the girls, expressing their excitement and joy to have you back again,

"Come on, sit, we have a lot to talk about," They sat you on the couch while the rest stayed inside the living room, near the area doing their own things as they conversed with you.

"How long has it been? We haven’t seen you in a while. Has college been treating you that bad?" Haseul asked, attending to the food she was cooking as you hummed,

“It’s been a month or two, college has been getting busier and busier, sorry if I couldn't stop by as much," you answered, all of them turning to look at you with smiles,

"It’s alright, Y/n, it’s not your obligation to stay with us, school is more important," Kahei told you with a laugh bouncing out of your lips at their unintentional matching responses.

The rest of the afternoon you catch up with the girls on what’s been happening for the past month, while you will also share your experience in school with them.

When dinner time came, everyone ate together, laughing like one big family would, continuing the previous conversation that you’ve had.

You offered to wash their dishes after eating, but you knew they'd object, so you had one of them assist you instead, which Heejin did not refuse.

"So how have you been doing?" You asked Heejin, not having had a chance to ask earlier because you were talking to most of the girls in the living room, "We're alright, having a lot more fun, we could finally see orbits again," You smiled at her response, finding it touching that she would still be that cute and caring for her fans even if there were no cameras present.

Continuing to wash the dishes as you talked with Heejin, you felt arms wrap around your body pulling you a little away from the sink. Glancing back, you giggled when you met Hyunjin’s eyes, a small pout on her lips as she looked at you,

"Do you need anything?" You asked, turning back to see Heejin smiling at her partner, moving to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Let’s go buy some bread," she whispered, making you laugh, "We just had dinner!" Hyunjin whined, shaking your torso as she argued, "It’s for later, obviously," You glanced at Heejin, raising your eyebrows at the smile she had,

"Your stock ran out?" you questioned, knowing how much the cat loved bread, there was bound to be an entire closet filled with it, "Oh, we were supposed to buy it yesterday, I forgot," you nodded your head, turning back to Hyunjin,

"We’ll go out later, rest first, then we’ll leave,"

Almost like a baby, the girl nodded, placing a kiss on Heejin’s cheek before sauntering to the living room, a content and happy smile on her face making you and Heejin laugh at her absurdity.

--

You grabbed your coat when you opened the door, announcing that the three of you were leaving, and you heard a few people answer before closing the door. Wearing your masks and leaving the apartment to get some bread, as you promised.

When you got to the convenience store a few minutes away from the dorm, Hyunjin went directly to the pastries, getting a few loaves of bread while you got a basket to get some food for the others. A few minutes later, they settled on getting one each instead,

"It’ll last us for about a week," you heard from Heejin, giggling at their antics when they discussed how they were going to budget it.

Paying for the food, you headed back to the dorm. On the way, the three of you decided to walk through the park, strolling quietly, as both of them walked on either side and hooked their arms around your arm.

Spotting a bench, you took a seat sitting quietly with the two while you observed the night sky. When you went out, it was always like this, filled with excitement and playful energy.

There were also times where you sat in silence, hanging out with your friends while you did nothing but relax with them, and as they rested their heads on your shoulder, you often wondered how you were this close to them.

That it was greater, to a certain degree, than the other members who also mean the same to you. You think it was because you’ve known Heejin longer, and you got along with Hyunjin, but it never really explained the weird sensations you would feel around them.

You closed your eyes and relished the company before you felt something different. Your whole body shivered, as you suddenly felt light headed. Heejin felt you shake, sitting up from her place and pulling both of you to your feet,

"Let’s go back, it’s getting cold," she said, both of them sensing your cold hand as they lowered their own to hold yours. A small smile spread on your face at their actions, already feeling warmer as you walked back to the dorms happily.

--

It was a week in when you started to feel strange, your body started to feel random pains. At first you thought nothing about it, thinking it might’ve been your body being tired from all the things that you were doing in school.

The day you finally paid attention to it was when you were walking down the hall with your friends, talking about your projects when you felt pain shoot up your ankle.

You let out a scream, dropping your books as you held onto the lockers. Your friends grew alarmed, moving to support you as they asked what was wrong,

"M-my ankle," you whimpered, closing your eyes as you held back the tears, feeling your friends loop your arm around their shoulders before they brought you to the clinic.

"Does it hurt here?" You gripped the bed in pain, nodding when the nurse pressed down on a particular spot. She stood up and got some ice and bandages, wrapping your ankle and placing the ice where she asked you to hold it,

"What happened?" The nurse looked at your friends who were watching from the side, "We were just talking when Y/n suddenly screamed and held onto the lockers,"

"Nothing happened while you were walking, you didn't trip or step on anything?" shook your head at the nurse who wrote it down in your letter, "Is your soulmate in any sports?" A blush seared on to your face, hearing your friends giggle before you answered, "I haven’t found mine yet,"

They hummed before finishing the letter, ripping it from the stack and handing it to you, "Then either you had an accident or it was your soulmate, hand this to your professor. Make sure to keep it on ice and make sure not to move too much. It should go away in about two to three weeks. "

You thanked the heavens that it was already after your classes, so with the help of your friends, they brought you back to your apartment, teasing you on the way about your soulmate, gushing at the thought of you being paired with one of the people in your school teams.

When you arrived home, they made sure to wait for your parents to arrive before they left, but, unfortunately for you, your family was even more annoying when you told them what could’ve caused your injury.

Having their own little party as you shuffled to your room where you sighed as you hit the sheets. Relaxing as you tried to find a comfortable position to lay down in that wouldn’t hurt your ankle too much, and as you laid down staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but think how you got your injury.

Could it be a sign that you finally found the person that was connected to you? The thought made your mind turn, thinking of all the possible things this could mean for the following days to come.

The next three weeks were not as bad. You didn’t experience any more problems with your ankle and nothing much happened during it.

Your friends stopped by often, handing you some notes and projects that you did while you were on bedrest, so you didn’t miss out on much. The only time you got back outside was when the girls invited you over to the dorm again for movie night, which you agreed to, of course.

You were helping some of the older members to prepare food when Heejin and Hyunjin both came out to the hallway from their room, greeting you excitedly as they hugged you and when they pulled away and went to the couch.

"What happened to them, unnie?" you wondered as you were asked by Haseul to wash the vegetables while the leader hummed absentmindedly, tasting the soup first before turning to answer you.

"Heejin accidentally missed her footing, she twisted her ankle, and since Hyunjin is her partner. You know how it goes," you furrowed your eyebrows at her explanation, looking down on your ankle as you faced the two on the couch. It could have been a coincidence, after all, they were already soulmates.

"Do you remember when it happened, unnie?" you asked again, the gears in your head once again turning as one side fought against the other.

"About two and a half to three weeks ago, why?" She turned to look at you as you gave her a smile, shaking your head and looking back at your work.

One side of your head wanted to believe that it could be possible, but the other side forced you to get it out of your head and see that none of the things that you were thinking were even remotely possible. Even if you made up different reasons and points, you would contradict yourself.

You felt something sting on your finger before you instinctively jerked your hand back, a yelp escaping your lips as you accidentally cut your fingers. Haseul went to check on you, holding your hand while everyone was busy with their own stuff. Then suddenly, hearing someone yelp, they left their rooms and checked to see who got hurt.

Heejin and Hyunjin were both watching on TV when they heard you yelp, standing up. They suddenly felt pain run up their arms. They looked at their hands and saw the cut, the red liquid running down as they froze in their places,

"Yah, Heejin, you’re bleeding!" Sooyoung called out, pulling both stunned girls to the sink where your eyes lingered over them. Watching as they were unresponsive while Sooyoung washed their hands.

Haseul pulled you to the table, cleaning your hands as she did her best to patch up your cut.

"This might hurt a little," she put some disinfectant, making you flinch at the burning sensation as the other two seemed to draw back from the sink.

Haseul put on a cover, making sure it wasn’t too tight before facing the kitchen where she just noticed her two other members being taken care of by Sooyoung. Glancing back at you, she had her eyebrows furrowed. Seeing the blank expression on your face as the two sat beside you.

Sooyoung also noticed your finger but didn’t say anything and just helped the two to cover it, though at the same time, when she applied disinfectant you flinched in your seat, grasping your finger as if you were the one who was sprayed with it.

The members watched in confusion, seeing the three of you seated with unreadable expressions while flinching from time to time.

When Sooyoung pulled away, she let you be as they gathered around you, all of them having the same thoughts before Hyejoo walked up and did the best she could to solve your problem.

She drew her hand back and swung it, punching your shoulder as the three of you groaned and whined at the punch, the members looked at you baffled, before Jiwoo was the next and pinched Heejin on the cheeks harshly, watching as you would hold your cheek in discomfort.

"Yah, we’re not play toys, what are you doing?" You whined when you saw how Jinsoul was about to flick one of you in the head. You already understood the situation, you just had trouble accepting the reality and possibility of it all, when Haseul noticed the lack of communication, she finished the rest of the food quickly and gave a look to the girls who watched the three of you in silence.

One look from the older girl and everyone understood, going back to their separate rooms to give you three the privacy you needed.

Once you saw the older’s room shut, you fiddled with your hands on your lap, paying attention to your cut that had been treated by the older girl, "I-uh, don’t know what to say," you wanted to break the awkward atmosphere, but it seemed like you made it worse, seeing as neither of the two were looking at you, still staring at the table.

"I can go away if you want me to?"

"I know you two are happy the way they are. I'm not sure what I'll do if I randomly join in. I don't want to ruin anything that you already have," you said, and you thought that if they didn't do or say anything, you would've left the dorm.

So you were glad when Heejin’s hand moved to yours, clasping your right hand in hers and intertwining your fingers together, "I don’t mind," Heejin whispered softly.

You glanced at the other girl as she stood up, moving around the table until she got to your side and held your other hand in hers, "We’ve always had this connection, right? If the world destined us like this, then I know you’re good enough for me,"

The joke made you and Heejin giggle before they leaned closer and rested their heads on your shoulder. It was like every other moment you shared. Soft and sweet, yet you enjoyed it all the while. It might’ve been the same as the other moments, but this particular one had one detail you wouldn’t forget.

They say that when the world was created, everything had a pair. But sitting there now has made you realize that not everything you believed in was true, and that just because everyone else had it doesn't mean you needed it as well, you couldn't determine it, how could you?

You were with the people to prove it.

[pink-imagines]

snow day

request: Hi hi! Can I get a headcannon of needy Todoroki were Todoroki is in the ~mood~ 😏but his s/o is out shopping. But when they get back he’s all on them and pretty much attacking them w kisses and cuddles.

a/n: let’s just say for this fic’s sake covid never existed!! (stay safe ppl, try to stay at home as much as possible!) also hi! i’m back, i literally have no excuse now but i’ll be posting a bit more soon hopefully. (you can probably tell that i started writing this back in january)

warnings: mentions of something smutty that might go down but no smut and no other warnings!

masterlist

requesting rules

The snow couldn’t seem to stop falling. It had already been snowing for the past few days, but the weather didn’t change. It stayed the same and the snow piled on and on. You quite liked this kind of weather, somehow seeing people wrapped up in their scarfes with beanies dragged far over their ears made you feel warm - despite the cold weather.  Today was your day off work, so you had a wonderful lazy morning with a bath and eating breakfast while watching TV. The only thing you could think of that would make this better was if Shoto would be here. He was, unlike you, out doing work. You remember teasing him lightly about it yesterday, that you got to spend the day at home while he had to be working out in the snow. In reality you worried that he’d become sick or catch a cold, even though you knew he stayed safe.  Either way, you decided to treat yourself today with some shopping. It had been so long since you could actually go out to shop, so despite the cold you wanted to go outside.

You took the train to the mall and walked through the stores. The only thing you were planning on buying was a sweater, considering that you had been frequently stealing more and more of Shoto’s hoodies so you should probably get some of your own. When you saw the little jewlery shop you stopped dead in your tracks. Knowing that your wallet would start screaming if you walked in there you decided to keep it to window shopping. Earrnings, necklaces, bracelets... but most importantly rings. The memory of your mom straight up asking Shoto when he was planning on proposing came to mind. A smile grazed your lips, he had been so flustered that he choked on whatever he was eating. You had been trying to tell your mom off when he put a hand on your thigh and lightly brushed his thumb across your skin there. “No, it’s fine.. we’ll see in the future.”, he had said and had given your mom a soft smile. If it weren’t for the fact that people were around you would’ve started giggling, but you held yourself back and kept glancing over the rings. One in particular caught your eye, a simple silver one with a smaller diamond. You knew you couldn’t wear a lot of jewlery for your line of work so it seemed so perfect. For the sake of the memory that your brain decided to pull out from the dust, you took a picture of it and sent it to Shoto. -So... when’s it happening? :P You snickered to yourself and started walking again but your phone buzzed quicker than you expected. -You’re starting to sound like your mom A laugh escaped your lips at the message. However, it did surprise you that he could be texting you back so quickly since he was at work. -I was just joking.. aren’t you supposed to be working right now? The text bubble that indicated that he was typing appeared immediately. -Not on patrol today and I just finished my paperwork. I’m about to go into a meeting though -Is that a warning or a challenge? -Y/N. Do. Not. Yet another laughed made it’s way up your throat and you put your phone away again. He usually sounded cold over text, but you could always see right through it. Maybe that’s what four years spent together does to you. 

The hours passed by as you walked around in the mall. It was actually quite pleasant, as not many people were there considering the fact that it was a weekday. As you were trying on clothing in yet another store you found a sweater that you really liked. It was an oversized black sweater that went down you your mid thigh and the collar was a bit wider, almost creating an off the shoulder look. You smiled at yourself in the mirror. Under the sweater you had the black bralette you had tried on moments before. Both of the items fit you perfectly and together it created a very cute look. Without thinking you sent a picture to Shoto, asking him if you should buy it. Thinking he probably had his phone off during the meeting, you put your phone down and changed back to your clothes. When you had just finished up putting your pants back on you looked at you phone again to see Shoto’s messages... you forgot his messages are connected to his laptop as well. -Y/N I told you I was in a meeting! -I mean you look very pretty, I like the sweater.. but if you’re going to send me pictures while I’m at work please put pants on. This was not a funny situation, is what you tried to tell yourself... but that didn’t stop you from smiling at the thought of his ears going red in the meeting room. -Sorry, I forgot! I’ll make it up to you by making you soba, okay? It took a while for him to answer so you went out of the dressing room and put away the things you weren’t going to buy. -... fine. I’ll be home after this meeting, so maybe around 5. -See you then ;) Were you being cheeky? Yes, but it wasn’t anything that he hadn’t dealt with before. 

After making your purchase you looked at your phone and saw that the clock was nearing 4:45 pm, this meaning that it was time for you to go back home. You went over to the trainstation only to see that the train you were taking home was delayed by 20 minutes due to the snow. With a sigh you sat down on the nearest bench and took out your phone. Because of the 20 minutes it would take to arrive at your home station and the 5 minute walk home, you’d be home in about 50 minutes. Knowing Shoto, he’d probably already be home by now as he most likely managed to cut the meeting short - what was the meaning of staying longer when you had already gotten to the point? Even so, you decided to not call him just yet in case he actually still was in the meeting. 

Time passed and as soon as the clock struck 5:00 pm you got a call. “Hey, are you okay? I’ve been waiting for a few and you’re still not home...”, Shoto’s voice was slightly distorted over the line due to your bad connection but you were still relieved to hear his voice. “The train got delayed, can you believe it?”, you sighed heavily. “Yes I can actually, it’s been snowing all day.”, he said calmly, “Do you need me to pick you up? I can be there in 10 minutes.” “No it’s fine, the train should be here in 5 and then I’ll be at the station in just 20 minutes.”, you stood up and looked by the track for the train. “Are you sure? The train’s probably gonna be packed.” “It’s fine, I have headphones with me so I won’t even notice.”, you smiled at his tries to come get you, “Besides I can practically see the train by now.” “Okay... then I’ll meet you at the station.”, he answered, as if it was nothing. “No, baby, you don’t have to do that. You’ve been at work all day just rest please?”, you reasoned. “I’ll see you in 20 minutes, sweetheart.”, he hung up on you. You were taken aback by the usage of the nickname, he barely ever called you by petnames. Before you could think to much of it the train arrived and you put in your earbuds and got on quickly to find a good seat.

The train wasn’t as packed as Shoto had thought. Though there was a crying child in your cart. The mother who frantically tried to calm her baby down gave you an apologetic smile. You made sure to look friendly back at her to make sure she understood that you didn’t mind. The poor woman was trying to keep her child from screaming while also balancing groceries and a stroller at the same time.  “Do you need any help?”, you asked and took out your earbuds. “Please.”, the woman gave you a relieved look. You took her grocery bags and balanced them against some empty seats. Then you took the stroller from her hands so that she could properly care for her baby. “He’s just a bit hungry...”, she said and took out a bottle to give to the young boy. “... I’ve never understood how parents always know what their children want like that.”, you said mostly to yourself but the woman answered anyways. “I guess it’s an instinct.”, she said with a warm smile, “Thank you for your help. My husband’s working late so he couldn’t take care of the groceries tonight.” “Ah... I understand.”, you nodded. “Are you married?”, she asked and when she saw your shocked face she quickly apologized, “Sorry I didn’t mean to pry, I was just trying to make small talk.” “It’s alright.”, you stifled a laugh, “I’m actually not married... not yet at least, my mom’s been pressuring my boyfriend for a while now so who knows.”, you joked. “Oh, you have a boyfriend. Have you two been together for long?”, her demeanor had changed back to the kind and warm one from before. “A few years, actually.”, you nodded, “He’s a very sweet guy and-... that’s him actually.” Your phone started buzzing and Shoto’s caller-ID flashed up on the screen. His picture that you had chosen was of him holding a puppy husky that you had been thinking of adopting. Sadly, you ended up not doing that since you were both to busy to take care of a dog - let alone a puppy. You excused yourself to the woman next to you and answered. “Hi, babe, is everything okay?”, you asked. “Yeah, I just wanted to say that I’m by the station. Was the train packed?”, he spoke softly, which made it clear for you that he was in fact outside. “Not at all actually, it’s quite roomy. I told you that you didn’t have to wait for me though...”, you sighed. “I wanted to. It’s fine.”, he said and then added in a whisper, “Then I get to see you sooner.” Your face flushed up in all shades of pink as he said that. He was never usually this affectionate, but you couldn’t deny that you absolutely loved it. “You’re cute, Shoto.”, you chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me.”, you heard him huff slightly. “Sorry, sorry.”, you smiled, “I’ll be by the station in a few minutes if I’m lucky, okay? Thank you for waiting for me.” “No problem... see you soon.”, he said and hung up again. When you turned back to the woman sitting beside her you could tell she was holding back her excitement. “That was the sweetest conversation I’ve ever heard. That sounded like it was straight out of a story!”, she realized what she said and quickly apologized again, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!” “It’s no problem, we all do it sometimes.”, you tried to control the blush that was creeping across your face but it was near impossible. “I bet he’ll propose to you soon.”, she said and looked back at her baby, “I hope he does.” “Thank you.”, you smiled and looked down at the baby, who was staring back up at you. You waved at the child and he let out a gurgling laugh that had your heart melting. Today was certainly a special day.

You and the woman just happened to get off by the same stop so you helped her get her grocery bags out of the cart. When you saw Shoto standing by himself you waved and called his name. He turned to you and smiled softly, almost longlingly. “He’s handsome too... wow, you’re lucky.”, she smiled to you, “Thank you for the help, miss.” “No problem!”, you smiled back and watch her walk away before turning your attention to the man walking towards you. “I haven’t seen you all day.”, he embraced you with a sigh. Hugs were normal for the two of you, but absolutely not in public. Your body stiffened in shock before settling in his arms and hugging him back. Eventually he let go of you and took a step back. “Who was that woman? Do I know her?”, he asked. “No, I just met her on the train. Let’s get home, it’s freezing out here!”, you said and took his arm in yours.

The two of you walked in silence, as you usually did, but there was one thing that was running around in your mind. “Do you ever think of having children?”, you asked out of the blue, your breath forming white clouds in the cold air. Shoto stopped in his tracks and looked at you. It wasn’t until then you had realized what you had said, maybe not directly but the question was floating around your heads. “Children, huh?”, Shoto took a deep breath. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, afraid that he’d look disgusted or even scared. He didn’t. His mind was somewhere else, you could tell by the far away look in his eyes. Shoto’s face was dusted pink but, just like yours, you couldn’t tell if it was because he was flustered or cold. “I’ve never thought about it, actually.”, he looked at you which made you look away, “Not against the thought of it though. Let’s talk it through some other time.” He said it so casually. As if this was obvious and not a huge step in a relationship. Then he just kept walking. If it wasn’t for your arm that was still wrapped around his, you would’ve forgotten to walk along with him.  “Don’t be embarrased about it, please.”, he said suddenly, “It’s good to bring up these things.” “I just thought about it... you know... the woman on the train and everything...”, you muttered. “Sweetheart.”, there was the nickname again, “I told you not to be embarrased about it.” After a few years you’d think he wouldn’t be able to make you weak in the knees anymore. That was wrong. You hummed in response to what he said and leaned your head against his shoulder. There was an urge in you to feel a sudden intimacy between the two of you and that was the first thing that came to mind. “Are you cold?”, he asked. “Not extremely...”, you looked up at the clear sky, “... maybe it’s not the best time for cold soba though.” “It’s always a good time for cold soba.”, he answered, completely serious but you still laughed. You laughed because it sounded like him. You laughed because it would ease the excitement stuck in your stomach from what he had said before. You laughed because at that moment you felt so incredibly wonderful - and who wouldn’t laugh at that?

When you got home you made yourself a cup of tea while Shoto stuck to heating up by the radiator. “Are you sure you still want cold soba? We could always make warm soba.”, you suggested as you poured the hot water into your cup. “I say we make cold soba.”, Shoto shrugged as he kept his hands on the warm radiator. His nose was still red from the cold. “Then we make cold soba.”, you nodded.

After eating and cleaning up you sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Since you usually sat with a bit of space in between the two of you, you did so. However, this time Shoto scooched closer to you and put your head on his shoulder, only to then wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Is this okay?”, he asked quietly to not disturb the show playing. You could care less about the show, your heart was beating loud enough for you to not even hear it. No words would come out of your mouth so you hummed as an answer to his question. He had been acting very lovingly the entire night, something that he didn’t always do.  “Are you okay, Shoto?”, you asked suddenly, “Did something happen at work?” “Why do you ask?” “You just seem... more cuddly?”, you looked up at him, catching him staring but he didn’t look away. “I just missed you then I guess.”, he said, “... and you sent me that picture and that wasn’t very fair.” He looked away and now he couldn’t blame the cold on his reddened face. That’s how you remembered your sweater that you had bought. “Right the sweater!”, you exclaimed, “Can I show you?” “Sure.”, he said and watched you get up, “You seem very excited about this sweater.” “Yes! And you should be too, because now I won’t be stealing yours anymore!”, you took your bag and walked over to the bathroom. “But I like it when you wear my clothes...” “Then...I won’t be stealing your clothes as often anymore!”, you smiled before closing the bathroom door behind you.

You walked out of the bathroom, dressed just like you were in the picture, and walked up to him. He looked over at you, looked you up and down, and then stood up. “What do you think?”, you smiled as he pulled you closer by your waist so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. “I like it more when you wear my clothes... but this is also very nice.”, he leaned down and kissed you quick, “Let’s go have that talk about having children...”, he whispered and started guiding you to the bedroom.

-

permanent taglist: @theoceanphoenixhasrisen | @raven-r0ses | @darkbeautyswife | @sondering-thoughts | @gowoneandonlyone | @bnhabadass | @queenblackcat | @jayetheanimefreek101 | @witchy-anna | @cutest-celestial-princess | @missymysa | @karebear5118 | @weebartistinc | @crystal-lilac | @brithedemonspawn​ | 

[littlemisslipbalm]

Little Border Town Pt. II

Summary: Harry starts to find himself more and more drawn to the bookshop owner. She’s maybe not as annoying as he first thought. And maybe Harry isn’t the worst like she thought either. A little notebook, drinks, shoes, and a boat begin to show each other that. 

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck. 

ello loves,  part 2 is finally here pls let me know what you think!! barely proofread sorry... also i think theres gonna be quite a few parts to this because i keep not getting all i want to say said in each part. and im trying to keep the chunks relatively short. — also I made one direction lowkey exist bahaha

Word Count: 9.2k | Warnings: flirty fighting/banter, slowburn 

Part 1

-

The next day Harry found himself walking into the bookshop next door without really thinking about it. He hadn’t seen Y/N again for his early morning run and he had his list for her of the Paul Simon albums he already had. They hadn’t had their windows or shades open last night either so it was the first night he didn’t give her a salute and she didn’t flip him off. The jostle in routine seemed a little weird to him so as he walked through the shop's door and the bell sounded, he thought the smile on his face was because he was well rested and unbothered by anything.

Y/N had slept in this morning. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the beginning of Fall always put her in a cozy sleepy mood. She wanted to go to a pumpkin patch and watch a fire burn out in a fireplace. She wanted to listen to her halloween playlist and plan out an intricate costume with her friends. All of this was a wistful dream though. She had quickly learned that the little border town didn’t celebrate Halloween how they did in the States or any major cities. It was okay, at the end of the day, even if she was a little bummed about it. This was her new life and she would have to adapt to the new customs.

After she walked downstairs and unlocked the door, she went back over to her front counter. Yesterday, right when Harry had come in, she had found a booklet of Marie’s. It was leafed over to the point that all the pages were crinkled and dirtied from hand debris. Each page was filled with her loopy handwriting, all of it in French. She must have only liked blue pens because even if the type changed over different pages, the color was always blue. Each page was headed with a name, a customer’s name Y/N was starting to realize as she leafed through the pages. She sat back on the wooden stool she had gotten for behind the counter and propped the book in her hand. After the name of the customer there were extensive details on them. Not their purchases specifically, but their preferences, their personality, and just tidbits about any quirks they had or interesting things Marie had decided were of note.

She found many names that were now familiar to her after her few months of living in the little border town. There really weren't that many people to get to know and the tourists were starting to die down now that the school year was getting back in. After a few minutes of pouring over Monsieur Friedfrickson’s page, who lives across the street from her and runs the flower and gardening supplies shop, she flips to an even more familiar name’s page.

“Harry Styles.” The page had the name written out in strong tall letters. Marie had used a blue inky pen for his page, not a ballpoint. “Likes Music. Poetry. Love stories. Romance with a happy ending, but also likes the practical love too.” The interests are laid out plain and she purses her lips at the idea that Harry is interested in romance novels. She wondered what type of poetry he liked since Marie didn’t seem to think that had to be elaborated on. “He’s a special one,” it reads and Y/N scoffs to herself, really Marie? She reads on, “His heart is in the right place, but he’s got a mouth on him. Quick-witted and charming, but kind-hearted and sincere.” She pauses, and flicks the page back and forth, checking that it still reads Harry’s name when she gets back to it. Was she really the only one who found Harry vapid and annoying? Sure she had softened a little towards him since she had arrived, but they were by no means friends. “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually-” it reads and she mutters to herself, “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.” “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually scared of his own shadow.” “This can’t be real!” She once again scoffs at the book and looks up to the ceiling like Marie is going to talk back to her from beyond. “His exterior persona is very strong, both physically and in his personality, but it seems like he’s just waiting for that right person that he can really be vulnerable with and let them into what he’s really thinking. He’s looking for his Angie.” Now she’s just confused. Who the fuck is Angie? She almost doesn’t finish reading the page because honestly it’s just making her mad, but there’s only a few more lines. “Lots of tattoos, why so many tattoos? Thinks he’s funnier than he is. Flamboyant Harry is best.” And beside that last sentence is a star. She tries to hold in her laughter. At least it wasn’t a complete page of praise for Harry.

Thinking back to her knowledge of Harry, she realizes that Marie must have known him for about three years. Maybe more if he had come to visit before moving there officially. She agreed with Marie that Harry had a lot of tattoos and that he thinks he’s funnier than he truly is, but she was yet to see flamboyant Harry. She knew he painted his nails and wore rings, as well as interesting clothes, but she wouldn’t say he was particularly flamboyant for any of that. That comment definitely piqued her interest. When would Marie have seen Harry where he was being flamboyant?

Her eyes scan over the page once more and realize that this book is only for the most current year. Marie re-did the customers' outlines every year. So this was this past year before Marie died. She wondered where the other books might be and if Harry’s outline had changed over time and also if her name was in the one from when she had visited. That would be interesting to read. It’s strange to read a dead person’s private musings. To her knowledge, no one else alive knew the contents of these pages and these pages seemed especially personal since they spoke of people’s lives and who they were at their core. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear the chime of the door this morning when the first customer arrived.

Her eyes don’t shoot up from the page until two ringed hands enter her eye line on the counter. The tanned skin, with the gold and silver dazzling rings on each finger and the cross tattoo all register in her mind as her eyes go wide. She snaps the book shut when her eyes meet Harry’s almost ivy green eyes - they’re darker in the foggy fall light streaming through the window today. She hadn’t even turned on the lights yet in the store, the natural light being enough for her this morning. The book is clutched in her hands as Harry’s smile widens to a grin of amusement.

“What have you got there?”

There’s no cover on the book so he can’t make anything out about it. He assumes it’s some novel she’s embarrassed of and has chosen to slip the cover off of to keep anonymity of it. This assumption is why his tone is so teasing and why she grimaces at him in response. Her cheeks have also tinted themselves, she’s flustered that the man she had just been conversing about with the book was now in the store.

“None of your business.”

“I guess not.” He replies easily when she responds curtly and places the book out of sight somewhere under the countertop.

“Why are you here again?” She’s avoiding his eye contact now, feeling like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been even though it was perfectly within her right to read something that now belonged to her.

Harry’s smile falters with her followed curt reply. Annoyance settling in, Harry straightens up and removes his hands from the counter. The familiar feeling doesn’t exactly feel nice, but familiarity is better than discomfort. “You wanted a list of my Paul Simon records? So you could order me one I didn’t already have?”

She looks at him curiously as the conversation comes back to her from yesterday morning and she nods. That conversation was real. “Oh yeah, I said that.” She replies, still not looking at him. “Okay,” she says when he doesn’t move or do anything. Her eyes widen, silently asking him to get on with it.

His hands shove into his pockets, searching around for a list he apparently had made. They come out empty. He pats over his jacket pockets and feels nothing but his phone and wallet, no list. “Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath. She scratches at her eyebrow and sits back on her stool, seeming like she might be waiting awhile. After a few more minutes and no produced list, she sighs. “Do you just want to go next door and grab it since you obviously forgot it?”

“I didn’t forget it…” His voice is low and he shoots a glare at her, the annoyance that had come back had now doubled.

“You did, but it’s okay if you can’t admit that-”

“It must have fallen out of my pocket!” He insists.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. Walking to the front door, she looks on the ground and then a little ways outside. “I don’t see it, just go back and get it. You probably left it in your boudoir, it’s fine.” Her tone is a little less condescending now and more understanding. She forgets stuff all the time and she really wasn’t trying to be rude when he first came in. He had just startled her is all.

He turns around to face her. Her body is now completely out in the open area of the front of the store. His head tilts and one of his loose curls flops over his forehead while he takes in her appearance. “Why do you do that?”

She wets her lips and steps closer to him, more on her way back to the counter than anything. “Do what?” She’s oblivious to what he’s taken note of.

“When you have a conversation in English you’ll swap in some words that are French. They’re easy words to figure out and you don’t do it a lot, but you’ve done it enough times for me to notice.”

“Oh...I don’t know. I prefer French to English. It’s so much sexier.” She walks closer to him and utters her next sentence as she brushes past his shoulder. His gaze follows her every movement. “Would you prefer a girl to whisper in your ear, “let’s go back to my bedroom” or “let’s go back to my boudoir.”?” Her French accent hangs in the air with the word and compared to the hard American accent she had employed for ‘bedroom’, ‘boudoir’ sounds far more dirty this time than before.

A shiver rolls down Harry’s spine, but he doesn’t let it show. She shrugs her shoulders, “I think the answer is clear.” He clears his throat in response and a smile grows on her face. “Don’t you agree, monsieur?” She leans her head into her hand now that she’s behind the counter and looks up at him sweetly. He knows she’s teasing him now, her smile more of a sultry smirk.

“Piccola diavola,” his Italian rolls off his tongue and she squints at his words. She knows “devil” but the first word troubles her - it just means little. Her Italian really wasn’t strong and it hadn’t improved that much since she’d been in the little border town. But she also wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he had said. Harry chuckles at her confusion and relaxes now that he feels the playing field has leveled once again.

“So your list… Do you want to go grab it? Or if you can just list it off the top of your head? As enthralling as your conversation skills are, I actually don’t have all day.” She trails off again, her questions lilting from her mouth after regaining some composure.

“I wasn’t the one teasing about taking someone up to their bedroom,” he huffs. Her face colors with crimson. While she had been teasing him, she didn’t want to be called out for it.

“Wasn’t teasing…”

“So it was a serious offer?” He inquires with a lop-sided grin, changing the meaning behind her words in one fellow swoop.

“That’s not what I was saying! Shut up and give me your list.” Now her blush was all over her face and neck, and she was totally and completely flustered by Harry.  She glanced down at her hands that were fiddling with a pen and paper, ready to write his words down.

“I can either shut up or tell you my list. But it’s sadly one or the other, love.”

She groans and takes her free hand to run it over her face. “Just tell me what you already have, Harry. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles and spreads out his hands in front of them both. He crosses back to the counter and leans on it once more. They are in close proximity once again, only the counter between them now and she can feel his hot breath fan over her softly. Smells of wintergreen gum, her favorite.

She glances up at him and their eyes hook together for a moment before she tears hers away to look back at the paper. He rattles off a good amount of Paul Simon’s albums and she nods approvingly as she scribbles the names down. She would have to look through his discography to find the ones Harry didn’t have and she probably could’ve made Harry do that and then give her that list, but she didn’t. It was too late now to do that as well, so she’d just have to live with her decision.

When he finishes, she glances at him once again. His eyes are very large. A detail that isn’t really important about him is seared in her mind. They’re big and they’re staring right at her. His pupils are almost as big as his irises, it was interesting. Her eyes shift under his gaze after a beat and she straightens up again. While they went over his list, she had indulged in the close proximity, the mingling of warm breath and brushed hands as she scribbled and he pondered. She nods a farewell, “I’ll let you know when I order next, but I won’t say what album you’ll get. It will be a surprise.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” his smile snaps back to his face and he scratches absentmindedly at his side. He hesitates before exiting the store. “I have a question.”

“Don’t need my permission.”

He emits a half-laugh, half-scoff from his parted lips. “Wasn’t asking for it...How come you never go out?”

She stares at him curiously, her head tilting to the right. “How would you know I don’t get out?” She challenges him.

“There’s only one pub in this little town and I’m your next door neighbor. I know.” He’s insistent on being right.

She scoffs, but only in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment. Her skin had finally cooled from all the excitement that had happened earlier and she wasn’t in the mood to grow red once again. Today was the first day she had ever felt flustered by Harry. It was annoying, it made her feel out of control. She liked to go out well enough, maybe more than the average person. But she’d only been in the little border town for a few months and going out hadn’t been on the top of her list of things to do. Sure, it would be nice to go get a drink out in the town, but she didn’t really have anyone to go with. Meeting people wasn’t hard in the town, but there weren't many people who were her age and she hadn’t particularly clicked with anyone where she would want to go out on the town with them. It was embarrassing to face the fact that she wasn’t flourishing as much as she had hoped. She was happy, but being confronted with the truth that she hadn’t gone out yet dampened her belief in her success in the little border town.

“I - It’s not at the top of my list of priorities,” she stutters, her chin raising a little in indignance.

One of his shoulders shrugs and Harry makes a little face as if he was indifferent to her answer, even though she knew much better than that. Harry always wanted to get a reaction out of her, maybe that was all he gained from their interactions - entertainment. She didn’t know, but she didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction and left it at that. His eyes meet hers again, his stare far more intense now. “Ciao, diavola.” He simpers, repeating the little nickname. It was far more sultry of a nickname than ‘Shrimp’ but she wasn’t going to complain. She rolls her eyes in response, the only correct one at that.

-

That night, she found herself feeling pulled to journey down to the pub. It was on the Italian side and like she had acknowledged to Harry, she hadn’t been. She wouldn’t admit to anyone, especially not Harry, that his question had been what had pushed her towards the establishment when night fell. Yet, here she was. Her pants were dark red silk that matched the black tank top with red embellishments that she wore over her chest - the only part of her it really covered. Her boots were a matching black with gold metal bits, they were knock-off horsebit Gucci shoes, the closest she could get to the real thing with her modest budget. She was having to be more frugal lately, after buying her car here in September, she had really seen how little money she truly had.

The heels of her boots clicked against the cobblestones as she stalked up to the front of the bar. There was happy chatter seeping out the open door, the warm but dimmed light also flooding out along with the sounds of people within. Taking a deep breath and fiddling with the waistband of her pants for a second, she made her way into the bar. Stepping off the deep end and making the plunge. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but after months of not going there, she felt a little sense of apprehension now.

The warmth was the most surprising bit of the bar that she felt when she stepped past the threshold. Some Italian song was buzzing below the words of the patrons and she smiled at the automatic welcome she felt upon entering.

At the tables, there was a mix of younger and older patrons. At the bar, there wasn’t much of anyone. The young bartender leans across the bar to talk to another man, who had dark brown wavy hair and a dark linen shirt on. He’s seated at the bar and his back is to her so she can’t make out anymore than that. She doesn’t notice the myriad of tattoos gracing the patron’s arm that rests casually on the bar as he laughs at something the bartender had said, just for him.

She smiles, thinking it’s a cute little flirtation between the two and hates that she has to go over to break it up. Her movement gets the bartender’s attention easily and has the patron glancing her way as well. The smile she had once had falters off of her face and her eyes go wide at the realization of who she has settled herself beside. She had left a seat open between her and the man, but now she wished she had chosen a spot across the bar and simply flagged down the bartender. Better yet, she wished she had stayed home. As her smile falls away, Harry’s only grows wider. He’s grinning down at her as he moves his whole body to face her.

“Ciao!” The bartender starters, not noticing her discomfort at seeing Harry. He begins to ask what she would like in Italian, but her eyes widen even further. He’s speaking far too fast for her and she blushed in embarrassment. In her fluster, she forgets to even try French and she just stares dumbfoundedly at the handsome man behind the bar, who’s now looking at her with great curiosity. Harry has watched the entire thing and chuckles behind his glass. She has no attention span left to allow her to even try and guess what he’s drinking.

He interjects for her, actually saving her any more embarrassment, surprisingly. “She doesn’t speak Italian. She’s from the French side and new in town, so she hasn’t been able to refine her Italian.” The bartender gives a smile and nod of understanding in her way and she wishes she knew what Harry had just said. Whatever it is makes the bartender switch to French for her and her jaw goes from being dropped back into a normal position.

“What can I get for you, mademoiselle?” He transitions smoothly and she smiles, his French accent sounding practically perfect. She’s recomposed herself, but Harry is still watching her intently, like a reality television show that he can’t wait for the trainwreck finale to occur on.

After she orders, the bartender gives her a wink and then walks off to get what he needs to begin preparing her drink. Harry slides over, eliminating the courteous one seat between them. Her eyes watch the movement and she refrains from the letting out the sigh festering in her chest. She really had hoped he would not be here tonight, at least that’s what she believed. She truly felt embarrassed that the night after Harry had accused her of never going out, he had seen her out. But it also was nice not to be sitting in the bar alone. It seemed that Harry had been sitting alone at the bar before she had come in,  but she also wasn’t Harry and didn’t know how much enjoyment she would have  gotten out of being alone.

“I see my words had some effect on you.” He says out of the corner of his mouth after running his tongue over the bottom of his lip. Her scoff once again dies in her throat because she knows he’s right and he knows it too. There is no being proud right now. He essentially caught her red handed.

“Thought I’d come out and see what all the fuss was about. I see you’re alone tonight, but I assume that’s how most nights go.”

“You should know by now that is simply not true.”

“Just because you leave with someone doesn’t mean you come with someone.”

“I guess…” He trails off.

She picks up when he doesn’t seem to have any more of a response. “How do you even meet people here? Isn’t it all locals?”

“Not always. Not all of the people here are locals tonight,” He scans the crowd. “She’s visiting...So is she...that whole group actually. Look French. So we’ve got a group from Nice tonight…” He looks a bit more. “Eh, that looks like it tonight, but still. It’s plenty.” He finishes with a smirk and she grimaces, understanding the meaning behind his words.

The bartender returns with her White Russian, which Harry had cocked his head at, but had kept his opinion to himself for once. Expecting Roman to return to their conversation, Harry turns his attention back to him, but he is only greeted with the side of his head because Roman is still staring at Y/N. He coos something to her in French, that Harry can’t pick up and his nostrils flare when she emits a giggle following their exchange. The two people he was last talking to were now ignoring him to talk to each other. How rude.

After another moment without their attention, he huffs loudly. Roman seems too entranced in Y/N to notice, but her eyes slide over to him. “Yes?” She inquires, albeit disdainfully.

Harry isn’t sure what to say to her now that he’s gained her attention. He was on his second drink and her stare has made his mind go blank. All he had wanted was for her to stop flirting with Roman so that she’d pay attention to him. But he hadn’t thought of his next step yet. He takes a sip of his beer to grant him a little more time and she rolls her eyes at his action. His mind rattles through possible things to say, but every single one is coming up as not good enough.

“I used to be in a band.”

Her head tilts and she swivels more to Harry. His comment is unexpected and rather intriguing. She had expected something annoying or rude. Truly she had just expected him to say “Nothing” once he had swallowed his drink so he could distract her from enjoying her night.

“You were in a band?” She asks incredulously, her voice pitching slightly higher than normal. While Harry was many things, including handsome, she just didn’t think he had the right persona to be in a band. He dressed like a grandfather most days and he tended to a little shoe shop, he didn’t come off as a guy who would enjoy traveling around performing. The constant praise would be on brand though, she conceded.

Harry nods and bites back his smile, knowing he had struck the perfect chord. “I was...it only took off in the UK but we were pretty popular.” He boasts.

“So what do you play?”

Harry’s eyes widen, expecting more of a question about the name of the band or something. “Well, it was, like, a boy band…” He says.

She was taking a sip of her drink and she contained her little laugh behind her glass. Another hum as she swallows the liquid that burns her throat a bit. “Oh. Interesting. So no instruments.”

“Well I can play a bit of guitar and piano!” He adds quickly, seeing her eyes shift away from him, like she thinks the conversation is over. “I was thinking of trying a solo thing, but then plans changed...”

“And now you’re here?”

He echoes her, affirming the question. “Now I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t miss it then?”

“Didn’t say that. I miss it at times, but this is where my life took me and I’m happy to be here. Maybe happier than I ever was in the band.” His eyes stare at the liquid in his glass and he swirls it lightly, determined to study the way it moves as he ponders something quite personal to him. He never really talked about his past with anyone here. Saying he was in a band and retrospecting that time are two very different things to share with someone. She’s just watching him now, not trying to make a quip or bug him. His demeanor shows that’s not something he’s very interested in hearing right now.

She experimentally puts a finger on his knee when it seems that he’ll never raise his gaze from his glass. His eyes move down to the tiny pressure he feels and sees her painted nail poking in to him. His tongue darts across his lower lip as he raises his head to meet her eyes. He notices the sparkle in them, she finds amusement in the childish gesture and so does he.

“I do miss the stage though,” he admits, smiling more now. “Performing. It was like nothing else.” Instead of a sad state of mind, his look is far more wistful now and she actually feels the smile growing on her face.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime, then.” She says resolutely after taking the last bit of her drink and then pushing the glass across the bar. Roman had wandered off, much to Harry’s pleasure, but now they both needed another round so she was looking for him.

Harry slides over a chair so that they’re sat side by side. He had originally done it to reach across her for a napkin, but then hadn’t retreated to his original seat after he was successful. They talk as they drink, but most of it seems to be flirtatious teasing even if neither of them recognize that fully. Harry just wanted her attention earlier and now he found that he wanted to keep talking to her all night. It was a Friday and usually he would be looking for someone to take home. The group of women at a table that he had observed were visitors would be a perfect place to start his quest, but that wasn’t on his mind. He liked watching the different shades of blush Y/N’s face kept turning as she drank more and how silly she was getting with each passing drink.

She was enjoying her time out, she had only gotten wine drunk in the confines of her little home since she’d been in the little border town. And that endeavour was all by herself. It was much more fun when you had someone to talk to, so joking around with Harry was a nice surprise. She no longer felt embarrassed about showing up after he had teased her for never going out earlier today. Now she felt empowered, like she could come to the bar whenever she pleased. He was nicer than she had realized. His hand was quick to encircle her back respectfully when she laughed a little too hard at a joke and began to tip off her stool. His smile was genuine and his eyes didn’t flit over her body more than once. His jokes were funnier than she had first thought or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding her mind, that one she wasn’t sure about. But, truthfully, Harry was exceeding expectations tonight and being a stand up human being for once, in her eyes.

A couple at the end of the bar, locals, watched on as the shoemaker and the bookkeeper threw back their heads in boisterous laughter and placed their hands on each other chastely. The older women smiled to themselves as Y/N smacked Harry’s bicep after an especially cheeky joke he told her. They were going to have a field day with this interaction once they told their friends tomorrow morning.

After drink three, she definitely felt drunk. Not completely out of it and can’t walk drunk, but I haven’t drank anything stronger than wine in months so three cocktails are kind of hitting me drunk. And because of that buzz that’s enclosed her mind and body, it makes perfect sense to her that Harry’s hand is resting casually on her knee as they talk. It also makes perfect sense to her to cross her legs, causing two things to happen. Harry’s hand shifts up further on her thigh and her boot is now dangling right next to Harry’s shin. The fabric of his cream linen trousers look especially soft and so the next logical move in her mind is to rub her foot against the fabric. She hooks around her foot easily and the patent leather of her shoe slips softly against the pant leg that flows over Harry’s calf.

He hums lowly at the feeling, but makes no other notion to acknowledge what she is doing. After the hum he gets back to the story he’s telling her about his boat. She had been extremely interested in the boat initially, but not she was transfixed on the feeling of the fabric slipping past her boot. When he shifts his leg, absentmindedly or not, she almost squeaks because this movement has Harry’s foot brushing around her ankle. The footsy was occurring without any acknowledgement of it besides small sounds the two had made in their chests. No knowing looks, just the presence of each other’s bodies against one another.

He had switched to a Manhattan after his second beer for some reason that she didn’t ask, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. When she slipped her foot against his calf, it had sent a spark of electricity from the point of contact up to his alcohol muddled head. It felt nice so he went with it.

Around midnight the two of them were practically in each other’s laps, nursing their fourth round. Brains a million miles away while their glassy eyes stared at each other. Harry’s arm nestled around her waist while hers played with the stir stick in his glass. Their heads inches away, closer than they’d ever been before.

Somehow they decided they should walk home about then. Maybe Harry had checked his phone and decided he was done. Maybe she had glanced at the clock above the bar and realized she needed to go to bed. Either way, they slammed down the last bits of their drinks and stumbled into the street. With only each other to hold them up, they had some trouble gaining their balance. They could walk just fine if they wanted to be serious, but Harry kept trying to step literally on her toes and she kept throwing all her weight into his side. Both of their actions would cause them to stumble one way or another along the empty streets. Their blurred minds thankfully didn’t get them lost, but the travel time back to their places was far greater than the travel time to the bar initially.

Finally arriving at the border of Italy and France, their shops and homes, she stared up at Harry under the glow of the streetlamp across the street. His hair looked more dark brown than his usual caramel chestnut in the light. His linen outfit billowed across his pectorals that were exposed. A tan golden color that he seemed to maintain from his frequent runs and trips on his boat. His jaw had a bit more stubble on it now, his morning shave no longer sleek on his skin. His mustache was still the most prominent bit of facial hair he had and she wondered what he might look like without it. She also thought if she’d ever kissed a man with a mustache, her mind was pretty sure she hadn’t.

As she stared, she moved from his side and took a step closer to her door. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her and bringing her attention to his eyes. He dropped her hand and stepped closer to her. They had been laughing about some weird encounter she had in Nice the other week. But now their laughter had faded out, the conversation all but forgotten.

“Hi.” She says meekly.

“Hi,” Harry laughs.

“I had fun tonight,” she muses and takes a step forward. She began swinging her arms back and forth, rocking on her feet. She felt antsy now that it was so quiet. The silence made her realize it was really just her and Harry together right now. Which wasn’t unusual, they had been alone together plenty of times. Maybe it was the time of night, but it felt far more intimate to her this time which made her squirm a little. Why was she nervous with Harry right now?

Harry nods and laughs again at her actions. “Yeah, you’re not so bad.”

Neither of them realized the proximity of their bodies until her hand swung a little higher and hit Harry’s hip bone. “Oh! Sorry!” She moves to take a step back, but Harry grabs her hand once again and tugs her even closer. Bringing them chest to chest under the lamp light. Her eyes flicker between where their bodies touch and Harry’s face. He’s looking down at her sweetly, gently. She feels safe with the way he’s looking at her. The warmth radiating from him was a nice contrast to the dark cold of night. The open expanse of skin that lived between the two sides of his mostly unbuttoned shirt seemed to have the most heat coming off of it. He had a jade cross that hung between the two muscles and she almost reached out to play with it. If it hadn’t been so dark and she hadn’t been so inebriated she would have realized the color matched his eyes almost exactly.

He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, but for some reason it feels like he might kiss her. The mood that was set by their surroundings made it sound right. Romantic even. Her lips look precious too, plump and puckered, flushed from alcohol and the brisk night air. They look a little glossy too from the last time she had wet them. He wanted to feel them for himself. His head ducks to move his lips to touch hers.

Upon registering his movement, she moves her hand from his grasp and places it on his chest, causing him to take a small step back.

“I think...I think this should be goodnight, Harry.” She breathes out. She’s trying to clear her mind enough to have conviction in her decision.

After a little intake of air, less than a gasp, Harry agrees, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Her hand slips from his warm chest, immediately curling in on itself to maintain the warmth his body had just provided. She watches her tendons in her hand ripple before looking back at Harry with heavy eyes. He doesn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her, but she’s determined to leave on a good note.

“Thank you, Harry.” He looks up from beneath his lashes at his name, like a shy toddler. “You gave me the push to face a fear of mine.” With her final words she crosses the little distance between them once again and places a chaste kiss to his cheek. Immediately, his cheek flushes and she can feel the heat beneath her lips, as well as the light prickle of his stubble. Harry swallows, causing his Adam's apple to bob quickly, at the contact. His senses get overloaded with the sweet kiss and the smell of her perfume. It all swims through his consciousness.

She smiles as she pulls away and then turns to let herself into her place without another word. Once unlocked, she gives one last glance to Harry who’s also busying himself with opening his door. She doesn’t see that his free hand is caressing over his cheek where her lips had just been.

-

The next day, she woke up and groaned feeling the stiffness in her body. Especially her head. Oh god, her head. It was like she was back in college, but worse because she wasn’t as young. At least she didn’t have to roll out of bed for an 8 am lecture. For that, she was thankful. Still, the pounding needed to stop or subside at least. Grumbling, she threw her legs off the side of her bed, the fuzzy socks she had slipped on in her drunken stupor settled on the hardwood. She dragged her body to her window and raised the shade. Her window was fogged from the difference in temperature outside and in her room. Kneeling down, she began to pull open the window, in need of the cool fresh air on her clammy skin. Three drinks, or was it four? She couldn’t remember, either way, it was too many.

Her eyes glanced around the view of the window. It wasn’t much since it was so close to the building right next door. Peaking up, she could see the already clouded sky. To the left she could see the street and to the right was more buildings. The scene most easily accessible was the window right across from her. The shade was mostly closed, a little bit of the floor could be seen where Harry hadn’t lowered it completely. It was just the same hardwood as what she sat on staring back at her. She sat there, breathing in the crisp morning air. After a night of drinking, she usually woke up rather early, today was no different.

It dawned on her, far too slowly, that a pair of feet had entered the plain hardwood scene she had been staring at outside her window. A tiny stage now filled with two matching characters. The pair of feet were tanned and large. Little tattoos seemed to be sprinkled both on the toes and the ankles of the feet. She couldn’t read them even if she tried. But upon realizing what these feet might be doing, she had been discouraged from staring any longer. Still, her brain was foggy and her body was not nearly quick enough to hide her from view as the owner of the feet did something to open his shade as well. Then, once again, like deja vu, she was staring at her naked neighbor. Thankfully, this time, he had briefs adorning his hips to keep covering the part of him that would keep her up for weeks trying to forget again. The briefs were, just that. Brief. Low on the hips and barely touching his thighs, it seemed they really only existed to keep that one appendage covered. Still, she had to tear her eyes away from the lower half of his body and let the embarrassment wash over her when she met his eyes.

The knowing smirk of his has him nibbling at the inside of his cheek. She had been checking him out. It was a nice confidence boost after last night. The awkwardness of her stopping him from kissing her had him spiraling in his mind when he went to bed. He didn’t know why he had even tried to kiss her in the first place, probably just because he was drunk. Yeah, he was drunk and feeling needy on a friday night. That’s what it was and she had been there.

He’d have to thank her today for putting a stop to that colossal mistake. They were barely just friends, he hated to think what would happen if he’d done something so reckless as to kiss her out of the blue. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind that he had gotten the vibe from somewhere. Why else would his drunken mind tell him to kiss her under the glow of the lamp light. He thought back to the bar and what they had talked about. He wouldn’t categorize it as overly flirty. He thought back to their physical interactions at the bar, okay, maybe his hand on her thigh and her playing with his drink was a little flirtatious. But that could be boiled down to him being close to hear her in the bar and her idle fingers wanting something to do while she was drunk. The footsy, though. He wasn’t sure if he could explain that one away. Instead, he would choose to ignore it. If he didn’t think about it, did it actually happen? Was it something he had to worry about? Not in his mind.

Returning his focus to the girl in the window across from him, his smirk was now fully fleshed out on his face. She was still sitting on her knees as Harry looked down at her and if they were in the same room this might have seemed like a rather compromising position. Her cheeks were still red, noticing the difference in height, she clambered to her feet.

“G’morning,” Harry’s voice is groggy and deep. Scratchy almost from the alcohol he had drank last night. It rings through her ears lowly and seems to have her blushing even more. It’s a different feeling than how his voice used to make her feel.

“Hey,” She clears her throat before responding, not wanting her morning voice to crack in front of Harry. Usually she would talk to herself a bit or sing along to her music before going downstairs, not wanting her first customers to hear her as if she just woke up. For some reason, she makes a little wave along with her greeting, feeling especially awkward at this moment. Harry chuckles and repeats her motion. His large hands mimicking the same daunting motion makes her laugh and releases some of the nervous energy she had been holding in her body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he openly flirts, placing one hand on his naked torso and the other against the frame of the window, leaning towards her. His movement flexes just about every muscle in his body and she keeps her eyes trained on his face, determined not to be caught gawking once more.

A roll of her eyes and she’s back to staring straight into his green ones that he’s still blinking awake. “It’s almost like we’re neighbors.”

He scrunches his nose at her deadpan. “You’re no fun,” he mutters.

She sighs, “I’m fucking hungover after last night…” and runs a hand through her tousled hair.

Her foot rests itself over her other, causing her hip to just out slightly. The movement of her body that accentuated her curves and her words have Harry blushing now. The red flowers at the center of his chest and begins to spread up his neck and cheeks. He’s once again presented with the almost kiss last night.

“Big night out for you,” he laughs, “I’ll admit I don’t usually drink that much, bit of a lightweight myself.”

She only hums in response, her fingers beginning to twiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. It reminds her of what she is precisely dressed in. The big t-shirt and tiny pajama shorts that Harry can’t even see are the only things on her body besides the socks on her feet. She glances down at her legs and takes in the expanse of fleshy skin that is showing just below the shirt. Harry’s eyes follow hers and admires the skin there, wondering what it would feel like underneath his big hands.

“I should probably start getting ready for the day,” She says finally, shaking herself from the random thoughts flitting around her mind about bare thighs and the man across from her. “Are you open today?”

Harry emits a noise from the back of his throat at her question. He draws his arm back from the window and stands up straight. His head tilts as he thinks about her question, his mind still muddled this morning.

“Er..no, actually. I was planning on going out on the boat today, switching my closed day to today instead of tomorrow. Why?”

“I’m in need of shoe repair,” she smiles, her eyes catching the glimmer of the sun starting to peak out. Harry swears it’s her eyes genuinely sparkling on their own accord. “But if you’re out today, it can wait.” She begins to walk away from the window to go to another room in her apartment.

“No!” Harry steps forward, but is restricted by the screen, which keeps him from falling out of his window. She swivels around, looking at him curiously. “I can - you can just come over. I’ll fix it up for you before I head out.”

“Really?” She’s truly surprised that Harry would do such a nice thing for her. She knew they were getting along better, but for him to open shop just for her repair seemed overly nice.

“I mean,” and Harry’s once again blushing under her gaze and he’s hoping she can’t see it. “What are neighbors for?”

“I guess,” she’s still unsure. He seems like he’s nervous, his body tenses and one of his hands twisted in his curls. Harry’s so weird. “Thanks.”

-

She jogs the short distance from her front door to Harry’s once she’s ready. The pair of deep teal almost navy loafers she needed new soles in - she was pretty sure - in hand. A red pinstripe blouse half buttoned falling over her figure perfectly, hugging the right spots and flowing over the others. She’s in white jeans today that are flared slightly but also cropped. As it gets closer to Halloween she keeps having to remind herself not to dress festive and it’s a struggle everyday.

When she reaches the door, it doesn’t open. The cream door doesn’t budge as she tempts the handle with her free hand. She looks between the handle and the inside of the shop. Her eyes search for Harry’s figure. She had been inside his shop only a handful of times, never for a repair before. Maybe less than a handful, once to check it out and once again when she thought she needed a new pair of shoes and then decided against it. Oh, and that one time she went over to yell at him about something. Maybe the planters, maybe the shade, she couldn’t remember anymore.

Now that she thought about it, she had been in the bookshop once more. Two and a half years ago when she had visited the little border town for the first time. It was a little fuzzy for a memory, but she was sure she had at least peaked into the shoe shop after her lengthy visit with Marie the second day there. It looked just as it did now, maybe it used to be a little more vibrant, but she couldn’t be sure. She remembered an older man in the shop greeting her in Italian and her offering her sad ‘Ciao’. Back then she was even worse at Italian. He had looked at her with kind eyes and a sweet smile. It was a similar lopsided grin that she had now grown accustomed to on another man’s face. After beckoning her over to him the old man had turned away from her and shouted into the back of the store in quick Italian. It blew over her head completely. There must have been someone in the back of the shop who he had talked to. She was sure of it, because after she had perused the cute boots and shoes he kept, she saw a swish of hair coming around the counter. It was just as she was turning around to exit the shop, after she had bid farewell to the man she now connected as Joe. Whoever it was had long hair and was tall, slinking out into the main shop floor. The mysterious stranger was whoever Joe had shouted to in the back.

Y/N wasn’t the quickest when it came to timelines and how people could change over time. She didn’t connect the year she had visited with the year of someone else's arrival or the same chestnut waves cascading around someone’s face, just now much shorter. It made perfect sense who would be in the back of the store, but for some reason the idea of time and hair length were standing in this girl’s way. Oh well, maybe Harry would spell it out to her someday.

Harry finally rounds the counter that separated the back room to the front. The shoe shop was set up a little different from the bookstore. Her counter was right when you came in while Harry’s was about halfway through the shop. He shakes his head and laughs at her expression. The sound brings her out of her memory as well as a grimace on her face.

“Sorry, I was a million years away.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘a million miles away’, love.” Harry continues chuckling while correcting the girl in front of him.

She holds up her pair of shoes, ignoring his teasing. “Fix my shoes, shoe man.”  

His smile drops and he walks back from the door. His feet taking back steps as he beckons her into the interior of the shop. When they reach the corner, he takes the shoes from her hands and places them between their bodies. The teal loafers stare up at them. Harry inspects them, a serious expression falling over his features. His brows scrunch together slightly, the wrinkles in his forehead growing more prominent as he examines the shoes. Large hands reach out and begin to finger over the patent leather on the top and the leather soles. After a few minutes of silent deliberation, he places down one of the shoes and then holds the other up as if to showcase it.

“These,” he juts out the shoe in his hand, “need new soles. What did you do to ‘em?”

“I wear them a lot.” She insists while Harry looks on quizzically.

“I’ve never seen you wear these.”

Her brow quirks at his comment. “I wore them a lot before I got here,” she corrects. “They’ve been feeling wonky every time I try to wear them, must be because they need new soles.”

Harry nods, now satisfied with her answer. He hums, regarding the teal shoe in his hand once again. “Alright.”

She looks at him confused once again. “Alright what? Can you fix them?” What does he mean by ‘Alright’? “I’ve honestly missed wearing them these past few months.”  

Harry bites his tongue, a quip ready to be voiced. He’d gotten so used to fighting with her, he was confused how it had slipped away all so easily. His fear of them not talking if they stopped fighting didn’t seem to come to fruition so he could rest easy on that front. But now he was going to have to retrain his brain not to be rude after every comment Y/N made.

“Yeah, of course.” He sighs, placing the shoe next to its mate and then turning his face to her. She had been chewing on her bottom lip, actually worried for her shoes. They really were her favorites. She’d had them forever and it would be heartbreaking if they had to be thrown out. If she couldn’t wear them though she was almost sure she’d just let them collect dust in her closet rather than dispose of them if it really came down to it.

“But it’s like a good amount of my day to replace soles…”

Her face falls, but she tries to hide it. She knew Harry was doing a favor by taking a look right now. If he could fix them it didn’t matter when he did it. What he says next though truly throws her off. No normal enemy-ship turned somewhat friendship overnight would engage in what Harry was about to propose. If any such relationship other than her and Harry actually existed.

“Do you want to come out on my boat today?” His brow arches, his lips in a soft smile, he’s being genuine.

“Why would I do that?” Her brows raise along with her voice, taken off guard by his suggestion.

“More fun waiting for me to fix your shoes on a boat than in your shop.” He says simply before taking the shoes and placing them in a little cubby hole behind the counter for safe keeping. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” Her expression doesn’t change. “Just say yes,” He pleads now.

She sighs, “Fine.” All of the reasons not to go out on Harry’s boat are at the forefront of her mind, but she still finds herself saying yes easily. His pleading really wasn’t necessary to get her to agree. The bookstore could live with being closed today, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

[spidernerdsblog]

🎄First Times🎄

A/N : This is an extra for my first ever series I Forgot That You Existed. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing :  Dad! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : Your and Tom's first Christmas with your baby girl.

Warnings : fluff

There's something about first times. The first time riding a bicycle, first love, going on your first date, first kiss. There's an unknown excitement in it, a thrill, a feeling of adventure. Those first times will always be special. Just like your first Christmas with your baby girl. 

After 3 years of marriage you and Tom are proud parents of your one and only daughter Vienna. She was the apple of your eye after all she's your first born. The first time you got to know that you were pregnant was during one of your recording sessions when you suddenly felt nauseous and had to run to the bathroom to throw up. You knew this wasn't mere food poisoning from your past experience and to be honest you and Tom had been trying for a baby for quite some time after you finally decided that you are ready to embrace motherhood again. 

You were rather thrilled than scared this time while you took the test and seeing the two pink lines made your heart swell as a few tears of joy slipped your eyes. When Tom returned home you just ran into his arms to reveal the news that you were expecting and joy knew no bounds for him. He immediately lifted you up and spinned you around in the living room in excitement. 

The first time you went for your check up and saw your baby girl on the monitor Tom was literally sobbing. You were being very careful this time. During the last trimester Tom didn't want to leave your side at all. You had to literally throw him out of the house (pun intended) to go for his shoots. 

You couldn't believe how time flew so fast that the little human you both brought to this earth is almost a year old now. It felt like yesterday you brought her from the hospital wrapped in a blanket in your arms and now she crawls around the house as well as has learnt to stand on her little feet. You never get tired of listening to her continuous babbles with some broken words she has learnt eventually. 

And not to be surprised her first word was obviously ‘Dada’ ofcourse she was daddy's girl because the way Tom has spoiled her rotten since the day she was born you really are gonna have a hard time in future saying no to her and hearing that Tom went on a shopping spree that day, if he could he would have bought the whole toy shop you thought. 

Christmas was around the corner and everyone was in their festive mood. You were in the kitchen baking cookies when your husband came down the stairs hastily. 

"Honey where is my Christmas jumper?" he asks from across the living room. 

"Tom, what is your obsession with that old jumper? Now even the jumper also says let me go Thomas." You joke from the kitchen. Tom huffs rolling his eyes. 

"That jumper carries a lot of sentimental value for me. C'mon now tell me where is it?" he whines. 

"It's in the left bottom shelf of the cupboard." You yell from the kitchen. 

"I already looked there."

"Then look hard it's there only." Sometimes you really feel that you are actually looking after two babies.

Tom ran upstairs again to your bedroom where your 12 months old daughter was sleeping peacefully. He searched through the cupboard and finally found his jumper but the noise he made while doing it woke Vienna up. Tom turned to see his little princess sitting up on the bed with sleepy eyes. 

"Oh did I wake you up bubs? So sorry peanut. Daddy was looking for his jumper." He went and sat beside her on the bed. She instantly got up on his lap, her little hands clutching onto his t-shirt as support and standing up. Tom forgot about everything and began playing with her, her little giggles making his heart melt. After a while she started to get a little fussy and Tom knew that his baby girl was hungry. 

"I know baby it's time for you to have some brekkie, let's see what mommy is doing eh." 

"Look who’s up." Tom announces cheerfully walking down the stairs. You turned around and your face instantly lit up seeing your morning sunshine resting her head on her daddy's shoulder suckling her thumb. 

"Aww you are up my little pumpkin wait a moment mommy is almost done" Tom strolled around the house with her. He went and stood near the glass doors overlooking his snow covered lawn. 

"Look at that peanut, it's snowing isn't it beautiful." He cooed, rocking her gently in his arms making her giggle. Tom was about to slide the door open to the lawn to take her out. 

"Tom it's freezing outside, V isn't wearing enough warm clothes. She will catch a cold" You stopped him. 

"Your mommy is way too paranoid." Tom says rolling his eyes dramatically looking at your daughter.

"I can hear you." You say in a sing-song manner from the kitchen. Tom makes his way to you in the kitchen. 

"Here I can do the rest of the batch" he offers, taking the tray from your hand."My little princess needs to be fed first." He says and you take Vienna from his arms. Tom continued with preparing the rest of the batch of cookies as you fed your daughter. 

Later in the evening you were busy decorating the christmas tree with Tom when you noticed Vienna playing and tugging on to some wires. You panicked out of your motherly instinct.

"Baby no don't touch it, you'll get hurt." You came rushing, taking away the lights from her small hands. She stared at you with her doe eyes for a while before crawling away to get the other decorating stuff from the box.

"God, she's such an active baby, never sits in one place." You shake your head smiling. 

"Well she's my daughter." Tom says proudly.

"Okay Billy Elliot, now go and put Billy Elliot Jr in the crib or else she will not let us set up the tree." Tom did as you said as he placed Vienna in the crib when your attention went to the lights you were holding in your hands and you frowned.

"Tom, why did you bring the bigger lights?" 

"Why what's the problem with the big one?" He asks casually.

"Tom the big ones are for the lawn and the small ones are for the tree. It has always been like that." you state in disappointment.

"For a change let's put the big ones on the tree this year." He suggests.

"No way! it will look odd." you say annoyed. 

"Gosh you're such a control freak." he huffs. 

"No I'm not, it's just my tastes are better than yours." You retort. Soon you both began arguing and seeing the tension between her parents Vienna started crying. Both of you stopped arguing as your full attention turned to your one year old and you both felt guilty of arguing in front of her.

"Aww baby did we scare you? We are so sorry honey." You rushed to her picking her in your arms, rocking her gently pacifying her. She stopped crying after sometime. You sat down on the couch with Tom beside you.

"We shouldn’t have fought like that on such a petty issue I’m sorry I over reacted." You felt sorry.

"No it’s my fault that I messed up the lights, I’m sorry Y/N" Tom apologises

"Hey it’s ok we can put the big ones this year." Tom and you leaned in for a reconciliation kiss but was interrupted by your little munchkin’s hand as if she didn’t want you to kiss Tom.

"Someone seems to be a little possessive." You pout scrunching your nose.

"Well what can I say my little girl loves her dad more, isn’t it princess?" He boops her nose gently to which she giggles.

"Don’t flatter yourself mister." you snicker.

"Aww don’t get disheartened, love." you slap his chest playfully.

"Shut up and do the rest of the decoration I need to put her to sleep, it’s almost her nap time." 

"Okay mam." You took Vienna with you to the bedroom to put her to sleep while Tom carried on with the rest of the decorations. After finishing he went upstairs to call you for watching a movie together.

"Hey Y/N" Tom popped his head through the door.

"Shh!" You hush him immediately. "She just fell asleep". You whisper.

"Sorry." He mouths. I have set up everything. He whispers.

"Okay I’ll be down in a minute." You whisper back. You went down to the living room to find two cups of tea and snacks kept on the coffee table while Tom was lounging on the couch busy choosing a christmas movie to watch for tonight. You went and sat on the couch snuggling close to him resting your head on his broad chest, he smiled wrapping his arm around you. Even though you were totally enjoying parenthood, you also cherished these alone times with your husband. Just two of you cuddled close into each other’s warm embrace. The intimacy of the moment is so soothing and relaxing after a long day. You wondered what you did to get this perfect man as your husband with whom you brought an angel in your lives. You felt you have everything you could have asked for and you are grateful. Tom noticed you lost in deep thought.

"What’s going on in this little mind?" He taps on your head lightly.

"Just can't imagine she's already one. Soon she will go to school then college and a few years later she might bring a boy for the Christmas Dinner to meet with us and then get married and have her own children" you went on as Tom perked up.

"Woah woah slow down, love. You are going way too fast forward. And moreover she isn't dating until she turns 30." He says like a protective father, you let out an airy laugh.

"Look now who's been paranoid huh?" you raise a sly brow.

"Well you know there’s a lot of no good sons of bit.." 

"Uh uh language." You interrupt.

"Sons of butterflies out there." He corrected his dialogue as you both chuckle softly turning your attention back to the movie playing in front of you. 

........................................................

Taglist in bio.