#i've been distant from reality but it's alright. this is fine.

[noxtivagus]

good morning!!!! i had a pretty cool dream ehe

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (19)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer finally takes her out on a date. Part Warning: 18+ explicit content (Public fingering) A/n: I did not forget this series, I've just been distracted I'm sorry!! I also apologize if there are any inaccuracies in some random facts, I am not as smart as him, I can only do a quick research from Google.

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

"SO, HOW DO I LOOK?"

She spun in front of the mirror, showing off the dress she had picked out that afternoon on an impromptu shopping spree. The garment had looked stunning on the store mannequin, and now, in the soft glow of her bedroom, it was more appealing.

The spaghetti straps delicately framed her shoulders, and the lavender fabric accentuated her curves. The bottom of the dress, hovering just below her knees, gave a playful vibe with a teasing slit inching up her right thigh. And the neckline, with its very low plunge, offered a glimpse of her cleavage she couldn't help but wonder whether it was showing too much skin.

"Like you want to get laid," a playful voice called.

Her laughter echoed through the room as she turned to face her phone and realized the dress was hugging her ass quite snugly. "It's too much, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Sandy's voice echoed through the phone again. She glanced at the screen, seeing her friend's smiling face. "You look gorgeous."

She grinned, the reassurance from Sandy making her feel more at ease. "You think so?"

"Absolutely."

She reached for a sparkling necklace and dangling earrings, holding them to the camera. "Necklace or earrings?"

"Hmm." Sandy squinted at the screen, studying the options through the video call. "Go with the earrings. They'll add a touch of glamour without stealing the spotlight from the dress."

She nodded in agreement. "Earrings it is, then."

As she carefully slipped herself into the accessories, Sandy couldn't help but muse her thoughts. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear purple."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "What do you mean? I've worn this color before."

"Your wardrobe either consists of black or gray. You had to go out shopping to buy this dress."

She laughed nervously, caught in the act of her predictable wardrobe choices. "Alright, fine." She pursed her lips together before letting out a sigh. "I may or may not have asked his friend what his favorite color is."

"You sly fox," Sandy laughed with a huge grin. "So you do want to get laid."

She blushed, adjusting the earrings. "I mean, if the occasion arises..."

"You've got this all planned out, huh?"

"Well, not exactly, more like... strategically considered?" She tilted her head and observed herself in the mirror again. "Does it make me look desperate?"

"Of course not," Sandy reassured. "It just shows you're putting in effort. Besides, confidence is attractive. You look hot."

She blushed at the compliment, but before she could respond, the distant hum of an engine reached her ears. Her eyes widened, and instinctively, she moved towards the window and noticed a car pulling into her driveway. It wasn't the usual sleek, black government vehicle; instead, the car looked like it had seen better days, although it held a vintage charm that caught her by surprise.

Then reality finally kicked in—he was here for a date, not because of his job. They were actually going out for a nice dinner he had prepared.

She suddenly felt sick.

"Sandy, he's here," she whispered, her voice betraying a touch of panic.

Somehow Sandy still managed to hear her voice from across the room. "You'll be fine! It's not like you haven't spent time with him before."

"Not when my life wasn't on the line." She was met with silence and walked over to her phone, picking it up to find Sandy's disapproving glare. She sheepishly smiled towards the screen. "Too soon?"

Sandy shook her head with a sigh. "Only you would joke about your near-death experience."

"Spencer told me it's a coping mechanism."

"You've joked about it to him as well?"

She nodded. "He's not a fan either." The sound of the doorbell ringing brought her back to the present. "I need to go."

"Wait!" Sandy's urgent voice echoed through the phone again. She watched as her friend's expression softened. "How are you feeling today?"

A warm smile graced her lips, moved by Sandy's ongoing concern. Ever since they reunited at the hospital, Sandy couldn't stop apologizing for what had happened, even when it wasn't her fault to begin with. Her friend consistently checked in on her well-being.

"I'm actually feeling pretty good. Nervous, but good."

Sandy nodded, her smile carrying reassurance. "Good. Now, go enjoy your date."

She reciprocated the sentiment with a blow of a kiss towards the camera. "I'll call you later," she promised before ending the call. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, slipping her phone into her purse as she descended the stairs.

Spencer was waiting at the door when she opened it, all cleaned up and undeniably handsome. His well-fitted suit accentuated his strong shoulders, and the crisp white shirt beneath complemented the subtle purple tie he wore. The fabric of the suit, in a rich charcoal shade, seemed to bring out the warmth in his hazel eyes.

A nervous smile played on his lips, only enhancing his charm and giving him an endearing quality that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes, however, spoke volumes as they assessed her, taking in the way her dress hugged her curves. Spencer couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight before him.

He was so mesmerized that without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, catching her by surprise. In an instant, he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in an unexpected yet tender kiss. The warmth of the moment enveloped them, and for a brief instant, her worries seemed to fade away.

Her initial surprise transformed into a soft smile as she reciprocated the kiss, savoring the way lips moved against hers, and when he finally pulled away, he looked into her eyes with a mixture of admiration and affection.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted, his nervous smile now replaced by one of genuine warmth.

She couldn't help but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. "I'm certainly not complaining."

As they exchanged smiles, she noticed a smudge of her lipstick on his lips. She burst into laughter, breaking the moment with a lighthearted touch.

"You've got a little something right here," she teased, reaching up to gently wipe off the lipstick with her thumb.

He simply gazed into her eyes with a sincere smile. "You look beautiful."

Blushing at the compliment, she smiled appreciatively. "Why thank you. You don't look too bad yourself," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Come on," Spencer urged, gently tugging her arm, and she willingly followed him after locking her door.

As they walked down her driveway, she felt Spencer's hand on her lower back, a gesture that added an extra layer of comfort to their connection. Unable to contain her surprise, she couldn't help but comment on the unexpected sight of his vehicle.

"I never pictured you as someone who owned a car," she commented, her tone teasing but filled with curiosity.

Spencer chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It may not be as sleek as the government vehicle, but it gets the job done."

She laughed, finding his revelation endearing. "Well, I'm impressed. It suits you." Her eyes scanned the vintage-looking car. "It reminds me of you actually."

"What? Old and worn out?"

She shook her head, smiling. "No, not at all. I meant classic, with a certain charm."

His smile widened at her response. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Spencer graciously opened the car door for her, and she beamed appreciatively, slipping into the vintage car's comfortable interior. The soft glow of the dashboard highlighted the nostalgia-infused details of the vehicle, making it clear that Spencer had a penchant for classic styles beyond his usual government responsibilities.

As he closed her door, he circled to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel. The engine hummed softly and as she watched him, she felt a certain warmth traveling through her body.

In the soft glow of the car's interior, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked. His features were highlighted by the dashboard lights, casting a subtle yet captivating glow. Before he could pull away from the driveway, a spontaneous impulse surged within her.

"Wait," she said, her voice breaking the quiet ambiance of the car. Without overthinking, she reached over and gently grabbed Spencer's arm, tugging him back for a moment.

He looked at her with concern. "What's wrong?"

She smiled, feeling a surge of boldness, and leaned over to him. She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a more passionate kiss than before.

He responded with a mixture of surprise, yet his hand gently found its way to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. His lips moved in sync with hers, and when she softly sighed in contentment, he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her ever so slightly as his other hand found its place on her thigh.

But when his hand inched under her dress, she laughed and gently pulled away. "I don't think we'll be eating anything if we continue this."

He looked at her sheepishly. "Right," he murmured, readjusting himself in the driver's seat. "Sorry."

With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she settled back into her seat, fastening her seatbelt. "So, where are you taking me, Handsome?"

His lips curved into a smile as he finally pulled away from her driveway. "It's a surprise," he said. "You'll see."

It wasn't really a surprise. Spencer had already mentioned wanting to visit this place and the big sign saying 'PLANETARIUM' at the entrance was already a dead giveaway.

However, the unusual quietness that enveloped the space caught her off guard. With only a handful of staff present, the vastness of the empty lobby echoed the click of her heels.

The atmosphere shifted when he gently urged her to close her eyes. Suspicion mixed with curiosity, she couldn't resist teasing him as she followed his instructions. "What do you not want me to see? I already know where we are."

A secure arm wrapped around her waist as Spencer guided her through the darkness. She could sense a grin in his voice as he replied, "Sure, but the location isn't exactly the surprise."

"What is then?" She asked. The echo of their footsteps persisted, creating a rhythm in the quiet space of the planetarium.

"The experience," he simply answered. "Keep your eyes closed a bit longer, we're almost there."

"This is kind of making me nervous," she admitted. "You're not going to kidnap and murder me secretly, are you?"

His steps faltered briefly before she let out a sigh, urging him to continue moving. "Sorry, that sounded way better in my head."

There was a heavy silence before he replied, "We should do something about you joking on that matter."

"It's called dark humor."

He softly hummed. "There's actually a psychological explanation for dark humor as a coping mechanism. It's a way for people to navigate and make light of challenging situations."

"You've mentioned this before."

"I know," he confirmed. "I just want to remind you that every time you think you're being morbidly funny you're using a well-established psychological defense mechanism."

"And what do I have to do with that information?"

"Well, for starters, you can appreciate your brain's attempt to keep things light." He gently squeezed her hip. "But maybe try to cut yourself some slack for the occasional dark joke."

She couldn't help but smile, even with her eyes still closed. The subtle squeeze on her hip added a reassuring warmth to his words. "I still don't get why your boss wants me to see the therapist you guys provided when I already have you."

Spencer chuckled and pulled her closer. "Because one, I'm not a licensed therapist. And two, my therapeutic techniques might involve a bit too much intimacy for the average counseling session."

She laughed. "You mean sex?"

"Sexual intercourse," he corrected, still not wanting to say the word, which she nudged her elbow into his side in response.

As their footsteps finally ceased, Spencer gently urged her to open her eyes. When she complied, her eyes widened in astonishment at the breathtaking sight before her—a vast array of galaxies projected onto the ceiling of the planetarium. The cosmic display painted the dark expanse with hues of celestial beauty, leaving her momentarily awestruck.

Yet, what surprised her even more was the scene at the center of the room. A table setting, elegantly arranged, caught her eye. The table was adorned with flickering candles, casting a soft glow on the carefully arranged dishes and the gleam of polished silverware.

She stood in awe. "Spencer, this is... incredible." Her eyes swept over to him. "You did all this?"

"Well, technically the staff prepared this." He guided her further into the room. "But I pulled some strings."

"Some strings? I think you pulled all the strings." She threw him a grateful smile as he pulled her chair, urging her to sit down. "This must cost a fortune."

"Don't worry about that," he assured her, settling in the seat opposite her. "I just want you to enjoy the night."

As she took her seat, the soft glow of candlelight accentuated the contours of his face. She felt a flutter in her chest, realizing she was falling even harder for him. It wasn't just the fancy setup; it was the thought behind it that got to her.

Fate truly had a peculiar way of guiding her to this present, bringing Spencer into her life. It was a bit surreal knowing that the worst things she'd been through somehow brought her to a moment like this.

Maybe, she pondered, there's a silver lining, a reminder that good things can sneak up when you least expect them. And now it was worth focusing on those good things.

So she savored his company, the easy flow of their conversation, the delicious meal he had prepared, and the soft music playing through the stereo. She also enjoyed being close to him moments later when they finished their dinner. The warmth of his presence felt comforting as they lounged in the viewing seats, gazing up at the scene above.

"Do you see the seven bright stars forming a distinct pattern?" he asked, gesturing toward a shimmering formation.

She followed his guidance and nodded. "They look like a tiny ladle or a dipper."

He smiled, appreciating her observation. "That's the Ursa Minor, also known as the Little Dipper. And the North Star, Polaris, is at the end of its handle."

"The North Star?" She repeated.

"It's a crucial navigational star. Sailors and travelers have used it for centuries to find their way. It remains relatively fixed in the northern sky, making it a reliable reference point."

"Hmm," she hummed. She then pointed to another set of stars. "What about that one?"

He followed her gaze and smiled.

"That's the Orion constellation," he said. "It's one of the most recognizable and has a lot of myths around it. In some cultures, it's a hunter chasing various prey across the sky."

"And what's the story behind that?"

He leaned in closer to her. "Well, in Greek mythology, Orion was a mighty hunter who fell in love with the Pleiades. However, fate had different plans, and he ended up among the stars, forever pursuing them."

Her gaze remained fixed on the celestial display, captivated by the tales woven into the stars. "So, he's like a romantic?"

Spencer chuckled. "In a way, yes. Myths often carry themes of love, tragedy, and destiny."

"Like human nature."

He nodded in agreement. "Like human nature."

There was a moment of silence before she turned to him. "How do you even know all of this?"

"We often travel outside the city and the skies are pretty clear in remote areas. Sometimes you can see a few constellations."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me you're a secret astronomy enthusiast while solving crimes?"

A bashful smile played on his lips. "When I have the time," he admitted. "There's something fascinating about the stars. They offer a sense of perspective."

She smiled. "It's nice to know even a man of logic and facts finds magic in the sky."

His gaze softened. "Magic has its place in the world, even for a man of logic." He suddenly reached out to the back of her ear and retrieved a dollar bill out of thin air. "See? Magic."

She couldn't help but laugh as she took the bill from him and examined it, tracing the edges. "I remember you doing this trick the first time we met."

He leaned back, a contemplative look in his eyes. "It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

"Considering everything that happened since then, yes," she replied. "You know, I never asked why you were at that bar in the first place."

A subtle blush painted on his cheeks. "I was... enjoying a drink." When she gave him a deadpanned look, he raised his eyebrows. "What? Do I not seem like the type to be hanging out alone at a bar?"

"You stood out like a sore thumb." She gave him back the dollar bill. "I remember you barely touching your beer."

Spencer sighed, taking the money and placing it back in his pocket. "I was supposed to hang out with the team, but they ditched me."

She arched an eyebrow. "They ditched you? Why?"

He shrugged. "Apparently something important came up."

"So they left you hanging at a bar?" When he nodded, she tilted her head in mock sympathy. "Well, it certainly worked in my favor."

He watched her, the flickering memory of that night flashing before him. The first time he kissed her, the taste of her lips, the sensation of holding her naked in his arms. Then his eyes raked down her collarbone, pausing slightly at the swell of her breasts before looking back up to meet her gaze.

"It worked in my favor too."

She noticed his gaze lingering, a subtle heat spreading across her cheeks. The air suddenly shifted as he leaned closer, creating an intimate space between them. There was a magnetic pull, and she felt her breath catch in anticipation. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lightly grazing her skin.

"Tell me what you remember that night," he said, a low timbre in his voice.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear and she met his gaze with a flush coloring her cheeks. "I remember seeing you sitting alone at the bar."

His reply, a mere whisper, reverberated dangerously low. "What else?"

"You came up to me and did that magic trick." A faint smile played on her lips as she reminisced. "I was amused, and we sat together."

His eyes lingered on her mouth. A subtle tension lingered in the air, each exchange building upon the last. "And then what happened?"

"We talked," she breathed, the word lingering in the air like a shared secret as he leaned closer. "We laughed." She felt his breath brushing against her lips.

"Then you kissed me," she confessed, and in the heartbeat that followed, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers gently. She let herself sink into his touch as he held her face, keeping her in place while he continued to taste her all over again.

His lips fit perfectly and she kissed him back as eager, letting his tongue glide into her mouth so effortlessly. She held onto him, slightly pulling him closer as if he wasn’t close enough even when he was practically pressing his body against hers.

When he slowly pulled away, she suppressed a moan. "Like this?" He asked.

"Like that," she murmured, the taste of him lingering on her lips as they shared the space between breaths.

The warmth of his lips traveled down her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that brushed over her skin. "What else do you remember?"

His lips trailed further down, and she shivered. "We..." Her voice wavered, breath hitching, as his hand slid down her arm before his fingertips began to faintly stroke her skin, grazing over the hem of her skirt. "W-We went back to your place."

"Go on," he urged the words hanging in the air. She felt his fingers glide over her inner thigh, stopping abruptly as he reached the middle.

"You..." She let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up, stopping just before the rough pads of his fingers brushed over her panties softly. "...you touched me."

He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing her teasingly through her damp panties before, without warning, they were pushed aside, the hot pads of his fingers finally making direct contact with her clit.

"Was it like this?"

Her hand wrapped around his forearm, trying to stop herself from moaning aloud, her eyes fluttering closed as he began to play with her clit, his fingers skillful as he rubbed in small circular motions, his eyes fixed on her. She looked over at him, her mouth going slack as she felt the sensation in the pit of her stomach.

She didn't seem like herself, and although she didn't mind public displays of affection, she wouldn't let it go beyond a kiss. She wasn't the kind of person to be intimate in public, but here she was, letting him touch her when any of the staff could walk in. Heck, she wasn't sure he was the type of person who would do something like this.

His fingers moved from her clit, dragging down her slit and collecting her arousal, briefly plunging them inside and curling upward, pressing firmly against her walls. She looked down to see his fingers gently pumping in and out of her cunt. Her legs were so wide from him that her knee was practically resting against his thigh.

"Tell me," he whispered, "Did I touch you like this?"

Her chest began to heave, her hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over her casually. "Yes," she breathed out.

Soft whimpers escaped her as she bit her bottom lip, trying desperately to be as quiet as she could manage. The fire in her stomach burned hotter with each expert glide of his slick fingers. Her legs opened wider and wider for him which seemed to please him judging by how fast his fingers began to pump into her cunt.

A strained whimper filled his ears the moment he circled her clit with his thumb, the added stimulation did nothing to help her sanity, and moans began to spill from her lips, mouth parting in pure bliss.

"Spence," she whined, voice so unsteady and breathless, she couldn't control her volume anymore, desperate moans mixing with the sounds of her wetness dripping between her thighs.

"That's it," he encouraged, speeding up his fingers. "Let go for me."

The pressure of his fingers was making her impending orgasm loom dangerously close as her back arched from her seat, hand gripping around his wrist. Her eyes flew over to him as she reached her peak, body shivering and writhing as she pushed her hips down against his fingers, feeling them slide from her pussy before circling her clit in rapid motions.

With a final gasp, she lost all control, her mind growing numb, feeling him wildly as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through her entire body. She cried out silently, calling his name over and over until she grew too weak while she desperately clung to him.

When he finally pulled away, she felt her arousal dripping down her legs. She stared at him wide-eyed as he fixed her panties back in place before brushing her dress over her legs. When she kept looking at him in a daze, he softly laughed and leaned down, brushing his lips over her cheek.

"Are you okay?"

"I..." she was gasping for air, a hand-tossed over her chest. "Did that actually happen?"

He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her ear. His fingers gently traced the outline of her jaw as her face flushed—lips delicately swollen, eyes glazed with a mixture of desire and surprise. The aftermath of her climax painted her cheeks in a captivating shade.

"Come on," he said, extending a hand and gently pulling her up.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice still carrying the traces of her orgasm. His gaze met hers with an intensity that spoke volumes, revealing an unspoken hunger that mirrored her own desires. His intention was clear.

"We're going home."

>> NEXT PART

a/n: it did not occur to me the possibility of CCTV cameras in a planetarium lmao please excuse me. Also, the plan is to write one last part and an epilogue to wrap it all up.

.

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[lalarambles]

bound by blood - pt. 1

warnings: arranged marriage, mafia, fluff (?)

pairing: mafia!al pacino x fem!doctor!reader

description: when two powerful mafia families force their progenies into an arranged marriage to strengthen their empire and keep their enemies at bay, the pair battles through the dangers that the mob life brings them.

author’s note: this IS going to be a smutty fan fiction not to worry also i haven’t watched the godfather yet but Al Pacino is so goddamn fine and i really just wanted to write a fan fiction about him and the mafia.

"You know, I've never met anyone quite like you," Al said, his eyes locked on hers as they sat in the quiet study of their newly shared home. The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of the pendant light above them casting a warm halo around their heads.

"Is that a compliment or a warning?" she quipped, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She was beautiful, with a sharp wit to match, and he found himself drawn to her in ways he hadn't expected. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her eyes held a spark of defiance that intrigued him.

He chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey. "A bit of both, I suppose." He set the glass down, leaning back into the leather chair. "Our families, they've known each other for generations. But you and I, we're like two strangers playing a high-stakes game of poker."

Her smile grew wider, her eyes glinting with the same challenge he knew so well from his own reflection. "And what makes you think I don't know how to play?"

Al leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I've seen how you handle yourself at the dinner table, how you navigate the conversations. You're not just a pretty face, you're a force to be reckoned with."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that admiration I detect?"

"Maybe a touch," he admitted, his own smile growing. "But I'm also curious. What's your endgame in this arranged marriage?"

Her gaze didn't waver. "Survival. And perhaps, if I play my cards right, a bit of happiness."

Al nodded, understanding all too well the complexities of their situation. Their union wasn't born from love, but from a merger of two powerful mafia families. It was a strategic move, one that would strengthen their empire and keep their enemies at bay. But as they sat there, the weight of their new reality pressing down on them, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to be found between them.

He took a deep breath, deciding to lay his cards on the table. "Look, I know this isn't ideal for either of us. But I've seen enough of this life to know that sometimes, you gotta make the best of what you're given. And you," he paused, his eyes searching hers, "you're definitely worth getting to know."

Her expression softened a fraction, and she took a sip of her own drink, the amber liquid shimmering in the low light. "Alright," she said finally. "Let's start with the basics. What's your favorite thing to do when you're not... well, doing 'mafia' stuff?"

Al leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered her question. "You mean, like a hobby?"

"Yeah," she said, setting her drink aside. "What do you do to unwind? To take your mind off the... business?"

Pacino pondered for a moment, his gaze drifting to the floor. "I used to enjoy cooking," he said, his voice a bit distant. "It's been a while, though."

Her eyes lit up. "Really? That's a surprising hobby for someone in your... line of work."

He chuckled, the sound rich and deep. "My grandmother taught me. Said a man who can't feed his family isn't much of a man. Plus, it's a good way to keep things... simple, you know?"

Her interest was piqued. "I'd love to see you cook sometime."

Al's eyes met hers, a flicker of surprise in them. "You'd like that?"

"More than you know," she said, her voice soft. "It's a way to connect, isn't it? To share something personal, outside of all... this." She gestured to the opulent room, the heavy air of their arranged union hanging between them.

He nodded, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "How about we start with something simple? Maybe tomorrow night, I'll make us dinner."

Her heart fluttered at the prospect of a quiet evening together, away from the prying eyes of their families and the ever-present danger of their lifestyle. "I'd like that," she said, feeling a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to make this marriage work.

-

The following evening, Al found himself in the kitchen, an unfamiliar territory in the grand house. The room was large and gleaming, with state-of-the-art appliances that gleamed under the spotlights. He felt a pang of nostalgia as he rummaged through the cabinets, searching for the ingredients he needed to recreate his grandmother's recipes. His hands, usually clenched around the grip of a gun or the steering wheel of a luxury car, now gently squeezed tomatoes and chopped onions. The aroma of garlic sizzling in olive oil began to fill the air, and he felt a sense of peace he hadn't experienced in years.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, and he turned to see her standing in the doorway, dressed in a simple white blouse and bell bottom blue jeans. She had her hair pulled back into a loose bun, and she looked so different from the woman he'd met at their wedding, surrounded by the trappings of their shared legacy. "Need any help?" she asked, her voice tentative.

"You know your way around a kitchen?" Al replied, his eyes teasing.

"I can manage not to burn down the house," she said with a laugh, stepping closer. "What are we making?"

Al handed her a wooden spoon. "We're going to make my Nonna's famous marinara sauce. It's a family secret, so you're officially initiated."

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took the spoon, standing next to him at the stove. They worked in companionable silence, their movements in sync as they stirred and tasted, seasoned and simmered. The room grew warm with the scent of tomatoes and herbs, mingling with the faint smell of the cigar Al had left smoldering in an ashtray on the counter.

"So, tell me about your family," she said, breaking the quiet. "Your parents, your siblings. What was it like growing up in this... world?"

Al's smile faltered for a moment, his eyes clouding over as he thought back to his childhood. "It was complicated," he finally said. "My father was a man of honor, but he was also a man of his time. He taught me the family business, the code we live by. But he also made sure I knew that there's more to life than power and money."

He added a pinch of salt to the sauce, watching as it bubbled and danced in the pot. "My mother, she was the heart of the family. She kept us all in line, made sure we knew right from wrong. She was the one who taught me that even in darkness, there's room for kindness."

Her hand paused mid-stir, and she looked at him with a newfound respect. "That's a rare trait in our world."

"It is," he agreed, his eyes never leaving hers. "But it's one I've tried to hold onto, even when the path gets... bloody."

She nodded, understanding all too well the duality of their lives. Her own upbringing had been a mix of luxury and lessons in loyalty and fear. The stove clock ticked away the minutes as they worked side by side, the simmering sauce a metaphor for their tentative relationship.

"And what about you?" Al asked, his curiosity genuine. "What's your story?"

She took a deep breath, her grip on the spoon tightening slightly. "My father... he never had any sons. So, I became the one he taught everything to. The business, the family history, the importance of loyalty. I was his right hand, his confidante."

Al nodded, a newfound respect for her strength etched on his face. "That explains the steel in your spine."

"It had to be that way," she said, her voice even. "I had to be twice as tough, twice as smart. To prove I was worthy."

Al watched her, his eyes full of understanding. "And you did," he said. "You're more than worthy."

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, and she ducked her head to hide her smile. They continued to cook, their conversation flowing as easily as the wine they'd opened to pair with their meal. They talked about their childhoods, their hopes, and their fears, sharing stories that painted a picture of the people they were before their worlds collided.

As the night went on, the kitchen grew messier, but their connection grew stronger. They laughed over small mishaps, like when a splatter of sauce landed on her nose, and she retaliated with a playful flick of pasta that sent him into a fit of laughter. It was a simple, domestic scene, a stark contrast to the violent lives they both led.

Dinner was served at a small, intimate table set for two in the corner of the vast dining room. The sauce bubbled over perfectly al dente spaghetti, the plates steaming in the candlelight. They sat across from each other, the air thick with anticipation. This was more than just a meal; it was a silent agreement to explore the uncharted waters of their relationship.

With the first bite, she closed her eyes, savoring the flavors that danced on her tongue. "Al, this is incredible," she murmured, opening her eyes to find him watching her with a pleased expression.

"It's all in the ingredients," he said with a shrug, though his cheeks colored slightly at her praise. "Fresh basil, garlic, and a hint of oregano. Just like Nonna used to make."

They ate in companionable silence, the clink of silverware on fine china punctuating their conversation. The candles flickered, casting shadows that danced on the walls, creating an intimate bubble around them. The tension of their situation, the weight of their families' expectations, seemed to dissipate with each mouthful of food.

As they shared the meal, Al found himself opening up more than he had in years. He spoke of his dreams of one day leaving the mafia behind, of starting a legitimate business where he could use his skills without fear of retribution. She listened, her eyes never leaving his face, and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of understanding in her gaze.

"You know, I'm a doctor," she said, her voice low and steady. "I run the diagnostics department at the hospital just down the street."

Al's fork paused mid-air, surprise etched on his face. "A doctor?"

"Yes," she said with a nod, a hint of pride in her voice. "I've always had a passion for helping people. After what I saw growing up, I knew I wanted to do something that made a real difference."

Al's eyes widened. "I had no idea," he said, his voice a mix of admiration and bewilderment. "How do you manage that, with everything else going on?"

"It's not easy," she admitted, twirling her spaghetti around the tines of her fork. "But it's who I am. I studied hard, went to medical school, and fought tooth and nail to get where I am. It's my way of... balancing the scales, you know?"

Al nodded thoughtfully, his respect for her deepening with every word. "Yeah, I get it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "We both have our ways of keeping our souls from turning to stone in this business.

The conversation grew deeper as the night progressed, their shared experiences creating a bond that went beyond their arranged marriage. They talked about their hopes for the future, the lives they wanted to lead beyond the shadows of their families' empires. The candles burned low, casting a warm glow on their faces as they leaned closer, the weight of their newfound connection palpable.

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

thank you all for reading! this is going to be a series so stay tuned. comments and reblogs are welcome!!! see you next time (≧◡≦) ♡

[jay-ce01]

Shadows and sunshine

Natasha x Fem!reader

Warnings : none, mostly fluff

Words : 660

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, sat perched on the edge of a rooftop, her eyes scanning the bustling city below. Her mission tonight was straightforward: gather intel on a notorious arms dealer. Yet, amidst the chaos and shadows, her thoughts were drawn to someone unexpected—Y/n.

Y/n was unlike anyone Natasha had ever met. She possessed an unwavering determination, a kind heart, and a fierce loyalty that captivated Natasha from the moment they met. Despite her initial reluctance to let anyone get close, Y/n had broken down Natasha's walls with ease, slipping into the crevices of her heart effortlessly.

As Natasha's thoughts wandered, a soft voice broke through the silence of the night. "Hey, you're thinking too loudly. Everything alright?"

Natasha turned to find Y/n standing beside her, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "I'm fine, just... lost in thought."

Y/n took a seat next to her, their shoulders brushing against each other. "You can talk to me, you know."

With a sigh, Natasha leaned back against the cool surface of the rooftop. "It's just... this life we lead, it's not easy. Sometimes I wonder if I'm meant for anything else."

Y/n reached out, intertwining their fingers together. "You're meant for so much more than you realize, Natasha. You're strong, brave, and incredibly resilient. And you have me by your side every step of the way."

Natasha's heart swelled with warmth at Y/n's words, a feeling she had grown accustomed to in their time together. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

Y/n tilted their head, their gaze softening. "You didn't have to do anything. You're deserving of love and happiness just like everyone else."

In that moment, Natasha felt a surge of emotion wash over her, a realization dawning upon her like the first light of dawn. She loved Y/n—more than she had ever loved anyone or anything before.

Before Natasha could articulate her feelings, the distant sound of gunfire echoed through the streets below, snapping them both back to reality. Without a word, Natasha leaped into action, her training kicking in as she moved with precision and grace.

As the chaos unfolded around them, Natasha fought with a ferocity born from years of training and experience. But amidst the chaos, her thoughts were never far from Y/n, the person who had brought light into her shadowed existence.

After what felt like an eternity, the gunfire ceased, and Natasha found herself standing amidst the aftermath, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. But before she could fully process what had transpired, Y/n appeared at her side, unharmed but visibly concerned.

"You're okay," Y/n breathed, relief flooding their features as they reached out to cup Natasha's cheek. "I was so worried."

Natasha leaned into Y/n's touch, savoring the warmth of their presence. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

Y/n's expression softened, their eyes reflecting an emotion Natasha couldn't quite place. "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

In that moment, Natasha knew what she had to do. With a steadying breath, she reached out, gently pulling Y/n into her arms. "I love you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with conviction.

Y/n's breath hitched, their eyes widening in surprise. "Natasha..."

"I've never been good with words," Natasha admitted, her heart pounding in her chest. "But I need you to know that you're everything to me. I love you, Y/n, more than I ever thought possible."

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes as they wrapped their arms around Natasha, holding her close. "I love you too, Natasha. More than you'll ever know."

In that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their lives, Natasha found solace in the arms of the person she loved most in the world. And as the first light of dawn broke through the darkness, she knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, as long as she had Y/n by her side, she could face anything.

[maehara-san]

𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣―

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader

Backstory: You were expecting to enjoy a summer trip with your s/o. Going out together and exploring, having a nice time. Unfortunately your dream ended quickly when reality decided to hit you.

A/N: This is based on a request by a lovely follower (@internphantom) , hope you like it! If you enjoyed this writing piece please consider donating, thank you! <3

𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ━ | 𝒎.���𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 | 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 |

"Hey can we check out this store before we leave?" You asked smiling as you looked up at your significant other.

"Um..." they looked at their wrist watch, "We have a few minutes to spare sure."

"I won't be in too long."

They nodded, "That's fine. I'll wait for you here."

"Oh..." you pulled away. "You don't want to come in with me?"

"I'm kinda tired," they slightly smiled and held the side of your face. "But you should go... like I said I will be waiting here for you outside."

Pouting you nodded, "Okay."

Noticing your sad eyes they pulled you into their arms, hugging you tightly.

"We still have our next stop, remember?" They said kissing the top of your head. "I want to save my energy until then."

With their reassuring words, your smile returned as you hugged them back. "Alright, I can't wait then."

"Me too."

Pulling away you bid your significant other goodbye and walked into the store. There weren't many things you still needed to get, but seeing the (favorite color) outfit on the mannequin intrigued you.

Thinking about your next stop made you felt all giddy on the inside. It had been such a long time since you two went on a trip together, you were excited to spend some quality time and enjoy your marriage.

For once you thought that things were turning around in your favor. And of course you weren't going to let this opportunity slide by to spoil them and let them know how much you missed them.

"(name)?"

Looking over your shoulder you saw your long time friend, a smile forming on your lips.

"Izuku, hey!" You exclaimed walking over to him. "I did not expect to see you here."

"I came here looking for a present since Ayane's birthday is coming up." He explained pulling you into a hug, smiling as he felt your warm embrace. "I didn't quite know where to go so I decided to come to the mall."

Slightly pulling away you said, "I forgot that her birthday is next week... I'm sure whatever you decide to give her she'll love it."

"You think so?..." Izuku chuckled lightly, "I've been trying my best to make her happy. I really want to make this work between us."

"Has she been distant?..."

He sadly nodded, "When I get home from work she's already asleep and when I have time off she gets busy or makes plans before I'm even able to."

It made your heart ache for him. Izuku was always such a sweetheart and cared about those around him, especially his family and friends. He never failed to be there for them or even when strangers asked for his help. Seeing him suffer like this was so unfair.

"I'm sorry to hear about that... I know you really care about her." You said holding both his hands in each one of your own. "I'm sure she will come around when she sees how hard you are trying to fix your marriage. Ayane would be insane to let go of someone like you so easily."

Izuku slightly blushed hearing your words. "I don't know sometimes I feel like she's better off without me―"

You shook your head, "Don't say that. Ayane is lucky to have someone like you. You're a kind hearted, respectable, funny, selfless, person. I know she's your life but she really knocked it out of the park with you."

He smiled looking at you, feeling thankful that he has someone like you around to bring him out of his fearful thoughts. Sometimes he wishes things would have turned out differently.

"Thank you, (name). You always know just what to say."

"I try my best because you're the type of person who deserves the whole world."

Izuku smiled with his eyes closed as he gently squeezed your hands. "I miss having you around like old times, (name)."

Your eyes become glossy knowing you feel the same way, "Me too."

Maybe if you hadn't moved in junior high, things wouldn't have played out this way. If you had convinced your parents to let you stay and finish your third year― but you couldn't keep going on with what if's not anymore. Life turned out the way it did and all you can do now is support him.

"I can help you find a gift if you'd like?' yo suggested.

"Really? I'd appreciate it!" He widely smiled, "You're not busy?"

"Well I came in here to look at something while (s/o name) is resting outside on the bench." You pointed at the entrance door. "I'm sure he won't mind me being here a while longer."

"Let me know when you need to leave I don't want to keep you from going somewhere you need to."

"No worries, did you have any idea on what you'd might want to get her?"

"Actually..."

Turns out shopping with him was a lot of fun, it felt weird not doing it with your partner. But it was different with him. Izuku paid attention to detail and was vocal about what he thought. He was a gentleman even when you had picked things off the rack, he offered to carry them for you.

It was kinda eye opening how different he was compared to (s/o name). Jealousy started to build in your chest, Ayane was lucky to have a boyfriend like Izuku. If this was how he was with you, as a friend, you can't imagine how lovely he mustbe with her.

Approaching the checkout counter, he placed all items down.

"Did you find everything you needed?" A women asked.

"Yes, thank you." You responded and turned to look at Izuku, "You can pay for Ayane's present first. I can pay for my things second."

"No, I'll pay for your things too." He said taking out his wallet and reaching for his credit card.

Shaking your head you held his hands, stopping him from giving his card.

"No way!" You said, "I have enough money to pay for my things Izuku―"

"I insist." he softly smiled looking at you in the eyes. "It's the least I can do for you helping me to find her a gift."

"Izuku." You whined, "You can't pay for my things it'll be too expensive in total!"

Chuckling he placed his hand on top of yours. "I don't mind."

Knowing he wasn't going to give up, you sighed letting him do it while he gave you a sheepish smile in return. The women behind the counter couldn't help and chuckle at your interaction.

"My, you two are such an adorable couple." She took his card and waited for him to put in his details. "Young love."

He smiled looking down at the machine in front of him. "Thanks I try my best to make them happy, that's all I ever want to do."

Your eyes slightly widened at his response making you turn red.

"I can tell you make her happy. I saw the way you held their stuff while they looked around. Not many couples do that for each other nowadays."

The women handed you the bags and mumbled a thank you to her.

"Thank you for coming!" She waved at you both goodbye, Izuku and you waved back as you headed to the entrance door.

You were too flushed to even say anything. His comment was something you never expected, you'd think he would have denied it by saying you were only friends.

"L―Let me pay you back―"

Izuku stopped you this time from taking out your wallet.

"Can you please let me have this one?" he begged. "I wanted to do it for you. I don't want you to return or pay me back with anything."

"I swear sometimes you are too kind for this world Izuku."

"I mean I don't think so." He chuckled rubbing the back of his head, "But that's thoughtful of you."

"See you just proved it again." You said opening the door and letting him go out first.

Izuku shook his head finding it funny how stubborn you were as well. He was about to ask you something when he bumped into your back, he stepped aside and looked at you.

"(name)? Is everything alright?..."

He followed your gaze and saw your partner standing there kissing, someone else.

Your hand gripped the newly shopping bag tightly, not blinking once. Tears started to brim in your eyes as you tried to understand what was happening in front of you.

Izuku immediately covered your eyes with his hand but it was already too late. The damage had been done nothing he could do to shield away the pain in your chest.

You looked down at the ground, tears falling to the floor. The shiny tile mirrored your ache, you tried your best to control them but the sobs were becoming harder to keep down.

He lowered his head and softly spoke "(name) do you want me to take you somewhere else?..."

"N―No..." your voice broke, "I can't... walk away and pretend like nothing is wrong."

It was sickening how they both stood there kissing each other not caring about them being caught.

Firmly you walked towards them removing his hand from your eyes. Izuku stood behind you, making sure he stayed close to you.

You parted your lips to speak, but no sound was coming from them. It was difficult to even gather a word, like your voice had been taken away.

Izuku of course noticed and slid his hand into yours trying to comfort you to let you know he was there if you needed anything.

"(s/o name)." You spoke trying to speak firmly without your voice breaking.

(s/o name) and the women turned around, it was much of a bigger surprise than you had anticipated.

"I―Izuku..." the women spoke.

"It all makes sense now..." he said furrowing his eyebrows as he looked looking straight into her eyes. "You always made sure to make plans and arrive late when I was already asleep so I wouldn't notice the time you came back home."

Your eyes flashed with anger, feeling upset at yourself for not noticing is sudden change in character and the trips he had to take. It was plainly obvious for anyone to see except you.

"To think that I tried hard to match my schedule with yours to fix things." Your lip was quivering, "Damn it... I was so set on doing anything for you."

"I'm sorry you found out this way, (name)." They said looking away from your gaze.

"But you're not sorry for cheating are you?" You questioned then looked at Ayane, "And neither are you huh? You did not care about having an affair or thought about how this would affect your spouses! All you cared about was your damn selfish desires."

Ayane scoffed. "Don't pretend you are innocent when I have seen the way you looked at him each time you two were together. You are the same as us, so don't point fingers and turn into hypocrites because it doesn't suit you."

"You're wrong." You roughly wiped away the tears. "I never once thought about cheating I knew if things went south I would be upfront and tell the truth. I could never in a million years think about breaking a person's trust."

"Can you please... drop it?" Your partner said, "I know it wasn't ideal but you are making a scene here."

"You're right."

The sound of your hand connecting with their cheek echoed in the busy mall. (s/o name) held his cheek in shock not believing what you had done.

Ayane's eyes widened, her hand went up to hit you but Izuku caught it in time.

"Don't you dare hit them." Izuku's grip tightened on her wrist.

"Why are you defending them when they were the one who started it?" She accused you, "How can you choose them over me!"

"Because they weren't the one who hurt me." He let go of her wrist standing beside you.

(s/o name) clenched his jaw. "Why do you always have to be so damn dramatic? I started to go out with out you should be happy I even considered doing that for you (name)."

"Yeah because that was the bear minimum you jerk!" You exclaimed raising your voice not caring if strangers stopped by and stared. "We got married and swore an oath to be there for one another... I shouldn't have been getting the crumbs that you couldn't give to her."

"At least they were having more fun with me than you." Ayane accused. "The only reason they stayed with you is out of pity."

"And you seems so proud saying it out loud." Izuku chimed in, "It's like neither of you actually cared about us to begin with."

She looked away feeling slightly regretful for not being honest with him.

"What's done is done, (name)." (s/o name) said standing taller as they proudly held Ayan's hand out in the open in front of you two as if you both never existed in their lives. "I screwed up alright? I cheated on you with her. Let's just start the divorce and finish this boring relationship."

Stepping back you tried so hard to make sense as to what you did wrong. Were you not enough for them? Were you too caring? Too bothersome when all they wanted was their space? Did you ask for too much in return―?

"You're right." Izuku spoke wrapping his arm around your back, holding you close to his chest. "This marriage was doomed from the start and for once I am glad that it's over. Because (name) never deserved all the stuff she has done for you. It always looked like such a one sided relationship, at least finally they're getting rid of the garbage that held them back all these years."

Their eyes widened getting ready to counter attack with their fist. Ayane held them back from putting their hands on Izuku.

They pressed their tongue on the inside of their lip, seething in anger. "You son of a bitch."

"You can get mad all you want, but you better, listen to me." Izuku ordered, looking straight into their soul with no hesitation. "I don't want you to come back and look for them understand? I want you out of their lives for good. (name) doesn't need to keep suffering because of you."

"You're just going to stand there and let him talk to me that way?"

"You have until tomorrow to get your stuff out, (s/o name)." You replied and turned, walking away from them blocking out their rage against you two.

Izuku was trying so hard to keep himself cool and collected but his tightened fist and clenched jaw proved otherwise. Yes he was hurt and bitter for how things turned out but deep down there was a feeling of relief, glad that he wasn't going to be in a lonely home, tied for the rest of his life.

Sniffling you leaned closer into his side trying to hold yourself up. Tears kept rolling down your tear stained cheeks.

Looking around the mall, he managed to find a secluded spot away from prying eyes. Gently he sat you down on the bench. Izuku crouched down in front of you holding both your hands in his own.

"It's okay, let it out." He softly spoke.

But it was difficult to keep crying. The heaviness within inside you remained and yet no more tears came out. You had cried yourself to the fullest.

In the same way, you felt like an idiot about crying for someone who did not deserve your tears to begin with.

"You're not a fool for letting yourself feel, (name)." He knew you so well. "You are pain, it is natural to feel like you have to free yourself in some way."

"Y―yeah but I―I wasn't the... only one who got h―hurt." You stuttered, breathing heavily. "I―I should be helping.. you t―too."

"I was already anticipating for this to happen." He lowered his head, looking down at the floor with a disappointed smile. "I did have some small hope that I would be wrong, I won't lie that it does hurt."

He exhaled out as his lip began to quiver. All the emotions he was trying to block out were suddenly hitting him all at once. Sniffling he closed his eyes in hopes of stopping the tears from falling, but failed.

"I―I'm sorry..." He croaked out, resting his forehead on your lap and letting go of your hands.

"Don't apologize..." you whispered, "You also found out that you were cheated on. It's okay to cry it out, remember?..."

Izuku did not respond, you took the moment to gently caress the back of his head, running your fingers through his soft green locks. His body slowly relaxed as he felt your touch.

"I know this is something we both... did not expect to happen. And I won't lie it hurts like hell..." Tears began to cover your eyes. "but we will... no matter h―how much time it takes us, we will get through this... together."

Sniffling he wiped away his tears with his forearm, lifting his head to look at you. "Can I... can I hug you, (name)?..."

You weakly chuckled not believing he was asking you for a hug.

"You don't need to ask, Izuku." Opening up your arms you invited him in. "My hugs are always here when you need them."

He leaped into your arms, hugging your body tightly. Sobs began to escape from inside of him. You did your best to calm him down by rubbing his back gently. "There there... it's okay."

"I should be the one comforting you..." He said breathing hard.

"Sometimes it's okay if the roles are reversed, you know?" Resting your chin on his shoulder. "You've been there for me countless times when we were little, it's my turn to comfort you."

"I―I know... it's just that," he pulled away sitting down next to you. "I wanted to ease your pain a bit, help you in any way s―so you could feel better."

"I feel better knowing you are the one here with me." You said trying to assure him in some way that his presence alone was enough. "It's going to be awhile until either of us are okay again... that is the truth. Maybe―" you sighed looking down at your lap, "With time things will turn out differently."

"I'll be here, just like I always have been, (name)." He reassured you, "If you need anything, anything you can tell me."

"W―well..." you turned away from him.

"What is it?..." He asked leaning forward and tilting his head to the side.

"I―uh..." you clasped your hands together, moving your thumbs one over the other. "I was wondering... if it would be okay if I could stay with you?... j―just for a couple of days of course..."

Izuku smiled for the first time, "Of course. I was going to ask you as well but I didn't want to pressure you to make a decision."

"I felt kinda embarrassed asking you..."

"Why? You shouldn't feel like that at all. You'll always have a place to go to I told you that if something happens you can stay with me."

It was funny how he was acting more like a loving partner than (s/o name) ever was. With him you felt save and appreciated.

"Thank you..." you wrapped your arms around his mid section.

He cupped the back of your head, pulling you tighter against his chest. Using his other arm to wrap it securely around your lower back.

You both did not know if it was the ache or the exhaustion that was already creeping up your bodies, but the hug this embrace felt nothing like any of the hugs you had given each other before. This closeness, the feel of arms enveloped around each of your figures, held so much love.

It went far beyond it being just a hug between friends.

"Do you want to pass by to pick up some of your clothes?"

You shook your head.

Looking down at you, chuckling tightly. "I can just lend you some of my clothes then."

There was no clear answer as to what you were both feeling, all you did know was that you did not want to be with any body else.

[that-angry-noldo]

Arafinwë is tired.

The ship rocks around him. Arafinwë can hear the water lulling outside, can hear Elulindo's distant orders. He takes a breath.

His mind is far away.

He stands on a high cliff, swaying on the very edge. I am tired, he thinks.

Jump and end this, then.

The world swirls around. Mountains shift and change, and Arafinwë can but watch. He closes his eyes.

The bodies around him reek. His clothes stick to him, sweat mixed with blood, both his and orcish. Panic pounds in his mind (it had ended, they won, he won, no more-), and he screams.

No sound escapes his lips. He falls on the floor, pain bringing him back to reality.

The ship rocks violently, and Elulindo barks orders outside. A storm, Finarfin thinks. They're in a middle of a storm, and he's not there, not with his people, not where they need him-

Elulindo glances over him and immediately sends him back inside. Arafinwë falls down on his bed.

His cabin is dark. His world sways.

The King closes his eyes, and darkness strangles him.

enough

enough?

will it ever be enough

to be weak (weak?)

fall apart, you can't hold yourself anymore, you can't be glueing the pieces forever

let us help

let us

hel

your fight is over

no need to hold on anymore

give up

"No," Arafinwë chokes, and opens his eyes. The world is quiet again.

"Hey," Elulindo says, and his voice is concerned. "Are you alright? You've been asleep for almost a day, do you need a medic? Do you-"

I'm not fine, Arafinwë wants to say. I'm not fine, I haven't been fine ever since Alqualondë, I haven't been fine ever since I've lost my children and my family, I haven't been fine, why didn't you notice? Why no one ever notices, why no one ever wants to look deeper - I'm not fine, Elulindo, can't you see?!

"I'm- I'm alright," he croacks, and sits. His vision blurs, but he manages to steady himself. "I'm fine. Just- tired."

-

The sea is dark.

Arafinwë wonders, what would happen if he fell. It would be so easy, he thinks. So easy to let go, to forget everything.

forget

forget

why would you

why would you want to forget

the sea

a wave...

a wave is coming

He grips the rails of the ship.

The ground is solid underneath him, but there's water, water everywhere. It comes from under the ground and creeps up his legs. He stares at the sea.

The wave is coming, and it's going to crush him. He feels a tear running down his cheek.

He can't hear Elulindo's concerned voice. He doesn't remember being led back to his cabin.

"I'm fine," he repeats stubbornly to no one. (Because the cabin is full of people, isn't it?)

-

Olwë greets them with a banquet.

Arafinwë sits at the table, and his ears ring. He looks at all the people.

Their faces fly past him, registring one moment and erasing from the memory seconds later. Some people try to talk to him.

Finrod is right at his side. His son smiles and leads the conversation away. Arafinwë catches his concerned look.

They drink and they sing and they dance. Arafinwë's head spins. It's all dull and quiet, as if someone enchanted his mind, casting a wall of fog on it.

Just tired, he repeats, just a little bit tired.

The celebration becomes smaller. Arafinwe excuses himself and rises from the table.

The floor shifts beneath him. Lava hisses through the cracks, burning his skin. It smells of burnt fresh. He stops.

He's at the edge of a volcano, and he loses his balance.

I'm not fine, he thinks as his head connects with the floor, as he hears panic and shouts. I'm not fine.

His vision darkens, and everything goes silent.

[lumi-procrastinate]

Interlaced Fate

Chapter 1/??? | Another Helory Story (Canon) | Memory's POV

Hope you'll enjoy this one! The comic based on these is still on the way so have more writing instead \(´ ꒳` )/  -Lumi

Socializing is my forte, or at least that's what most people think of me.

which is oddly funny since they were always confusing to me. I always have this difficulty, you see—I can't seem to perceive or evaluate emotions.

Despite that, I tried my best to fit in anyway. It didn't take me long before I managed to remember all of the patterns and acts that I needed to do for certain types of people.

The multiverse is a terrifying place; maybe it's terrible for me to act this way, but losing my life isn't exactly an ideal alternative either.

Whatever it is that I need to do, I'll do it as long as I survive, and a little acting isn't that much of a price to pay.

Thankfully, I found someone interesting enough to ease the process. His name is Epitome; he's another version of me that acts rather... peculiarly rough.

With his brute-like strength, he'd protect me from time to time from all sorts of danger. He's not only useful but also quite entertaining to have around. Soon enough, he became my best friend.

It's not rare for people to express their concern about him, though. He's not exactly the friendly type you see; he acts offensively most of the time and would hit me full force as a sign of affection.

They'd always wonder why I was befriending such a brute. Despite all that, I got attached to him and acted along with his antics.

Lately though... it's been tiring.

After all this time, I've realised how little I know about his thoughts and sentiments; it's as if he's just another distant stranger to me for whatever reason.

The thought of him seeing me as nothing always leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. So whenever I got the chance, I'd choose a random universe to go to so I could clear my head from those sorts of thoughts.

Usually, teleporting won't be such a big deal.

Something sure went wrong today.

Suddenly I found myself up in the air, about 27 feet above the ground.

Wind flows all around me as gravity pulls me down in an instant, and the gust hits me harder as I accelerate downwards.

The breeze cradles me as I finally feel my built-up fatigue and reality slowly fade away.

That is until an abrupt, sharp sensation woke me up again; I was plunging through a tree, getting closer to what seems to be an inevitable end.

Everything went black as I prepared for the pain to seep in.

To my surprise, something soft broke my fall.

My "heart" races as I gasp for air, my eyes opened instantly to reveal another skeleton a few inches away from my face.

One of his eye sockets were blank with a flower engraving around it. He had a bigger stature than mine, and it’s no doubt that he he could have shoved me away easily earlier.  

I get off of him instantly, It’s hard to not notice how tense he was.

Showing him the best smile I could make, I bent down to offer him a hand. "I’m really really sorry, stranger," I managed to mutter out. 

He took my hand quietly and got up, I checked him again to see if he was completely fine.

“Oh thank heavens, you’re alright-” I sighed in relief “-but I really am sorry for making such an atrocious entrance, hope I made a somewhat memorable first impression on you though.”

What happened must have terrified him completely, so I decided to lighten the mood somehow. 

He didn’t respond much and I started losing grip on my acting.

Silence was always unnerving to me. I always end up rambling random stuffs whenever that happens to fill in the dullness, and it’s no different from now.

-“Honestly, this one is my finest first impressions yet, there’s this one time I accidentally crashed into someone’s party -not by falling from the sky though, I just got thrown through their house by a friend of mine and.”-

Lots of people find this habit of mine annoying, so I don’t act like this most of the time.

Perhaps this stranger thinks so too, since he’s only been looking at me silently. 

But I guess it was nice to not being told off for once...

“Ah well, that was fun,” I clasp my hands together as I conclude my sentence “,but I wanna explore this place for a little, so see ya stranger! It was nice meeting you!”

Like earlier, he didn’t respond at all as I waved goodbye to him. 

I ran towards the meadow around us and stopped as soon as he’s out of my sight. The fatigue from earlier greets me again as I lose the last bits of energy left in me. 

Everything goes black as I began to fall asleep on the spot.

[End of chapter]

Helian!Sans and UnderBlood belongs to @foxalone

Epitome!Sans and UnderEpitome belongs to @jellymelting

[Next]

Alternative version: [Helian’s POV]

[tuulikannel]

I came across this crossover between Dresden Files and Fullmetal Alchemist in my files… I'd all but forgotten about it, having not touched it in over three years. Even though I like it, I doubt I'll ever finish it. :/ So I thought I could at least put here what I've written so far (over 5000 words, anyway), cause... like I said, I personally do like this. ^^ But yeah... be warned: this story will, unfortunately, remain unfinished (unless someone else possibly wants to finish it?)

Cast: Harry, Michael, Ed, Envy, Mei

This takes place (for DF) after Blood Rites (or so, it's kinda irrelevant, really, there aren't really any spoilers) and for FA after Mei has decided to return to her country (here there be spoilers up to that point).

(untitled so far. working title: Fullmetal Files, cause as usual, I lack imagination with titles XD)

(starting with Harry's pov, obviously)

It had been a perfectly fine Saturday night, all things considered. Me and Michael had driven a bit out of the city to banish a well-meaning but pretty confused ghost, a victim of a traffic accident that had been causing a handful of other accidents past few weeks. It had been a simple enough case, and for once I’d return Michael home to his wife without a scratch. I guess I should have been worried about how easily everything had worked out: we had located the ghost fast, banished it with ease, the summer night was cool and pleasant, and the Blue Beetle was on its best behavior, giving us no trouble on our ride back home. That was when the universe chose to remind me that perfectly fine Saturday nights just don’t happen in my life.

“Harry, what is that?” Michael asked. As it was his turn to be the driver he had his eyes on the road, and was the first to spot it. I ceased humming the song that was stuck to my mind – couldn’t remember the title for the life of me, but I was pretty sure it was Johnny Cash – and turned to look out through the windshield. And almost swallowed my tongue.

“Stop!” I had time to yell, before a tiny rip in reality suddenly tore into a huge gap that spread across the road and into the fields. We plunged straight into it.

~

Somewhere far away from the Briggs mountains, Mei Chang was trudging onward, making her way toward her distant homeland. The girl still wasn’t happy about the decision she had made, but her previous companions were right. Their struggle was not hers. She had her own land and clan to think about, and true enough, even though the worm she carried in a glass jar was a pathetic thing, it was the remains of an immortal being. Maybe that would be enough for the emperor.

Better than nothing, anyway? She just had to hope her Yao family half-brother wasn’t going to pull something better out of his sleeve.

She glanced over her shoulder, thinking of the snowy mountains she had left behind, hoping with all her heart that everyone would be alright. That Alphonse would be alright. That he would get his body back and perhaps someday come to find her in Xing and then… then…

She blushed slightly, her heartbeat quickened, and she started walking again with bouncy steps. When he would come, her family would rule the country, she would make sure of that. He would be astonished of the things she could show him then. And she wouldn’t be just a princess of the lowest clan of Xing, no, she would be…

“Look where you go!” the worm shrieked out from its jar, but it was too late. Suddenly the ground disappeared from under her feet, and she found herself falling into a deep, dark pit. She had time to let out a frightened gasp before she hit the ground, hard. The glass jar flew from her hands, hit the rocky ground and broke.

“Oh crap!” she exclaimed, and winced, hearing in her mind her mother admonishing her for such unladylike language. She jumped quickly to her feet and rushed after the lizard that was trying to scuttle away as fast as it could with its short legs. It was nimble, but so was she, grasping it with care, well remembering its sharp teeth.

“Let go, you!” the lizard squeaked, struggling in her hands, but she had a good hold of it.

Good. Ignoring the worm that was pouring curses on her she rushed to her broken jar. Now, just to fix it, and then figure out what… She paused, for the first time taking a look around.

“Where… are we?” she breathed, and the lizard too stop struggling in her hands to shoot a wide-eyed look around the barren landscape where they found themselves.

As far as the eye could reach there was nothing to be seen. Just the same, empty rocky land, covered in thin layer of dust that no wind moved.

“Damn it,” the lizard swore in her hands. “Why do you fools keep on dragging me into these situations?”

“Ah, I…” Mei started to say, turning slowly around, squinting her eyes as she tried her hardest to spot something, anything, in the twilight scenery.

Twilight? She blinked, realizing something. In every direction she looked at, the sky was shining with the same dull grey light, with no source visible anywhere.

Crap, she repeated quietly in her mind. Unladylike or not, this situation demanded some swearing.

Well. It was bad, but it could have been worse. She was okay and had Envy in control. First things first. Fix the jar, make sure the lizard wouldn’t escape again, then worry about this.

She had barely time to think of that when electricity made her skin prickle, there was a sound of distant thunder, and something fell down from a crack in the sky.

Mei froze, staring at the newcomer. It was manshaped, larger than Alphonse in his armor, and with a furless, wolf-like head and blank white eyes. And very sharp-looking teeth, she noted with a swallow.

“Um, hello…” she started, hesitantly. The wolfman sniffed the air, locked its eyes on her, and sped at her with a ground-shaking growl.

There was no time to think. She threw the lizard toward the attacking creature to distract it, while her foot was already drawing a transmutation circle on the ground. The wolf caught the lizard in midair and gulped it down in one bite without slowing down a bit. She was just about to throw her kunai, when the werewolf suddenly stopped as if it hit a wall. It bent double, shrieking, then suddenly bent backward at an impossible angle. Mei gave a short gasp as its body started deforming. Then she bit her teeth strongly together and threw the kunai to finish her transmutation.

~

“Stop!”

My cry was still ringing in my ears when we flew through the dark, suddenly falling down. I could feel the Beetle’s springs failing as we hit the ground, and grimaced. Well, at least the car stayed in one piece.

“What just happened?” Michael asked, still squeezing the wheel with white knuckles.

“Beats me.” It had seemed something like a portal to Nevernever, but something was off with it. Portals didn’t just randomly appear on their own, nor spread the way this had spread. Nevertheless… “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” I muttered.

“We weren’t there to begin with,” Michael stated. He had opened the door and stepped out, standing by the car with his hands on his hips, looking around. “There is nothing here,” he stated then the obvious.

“That’s…” I started to say, when a clasp of thunder, followed by the growling of a huge beast, cut me off. It came from the distance, but we could hear it clearly, and we both turned to look in that direction. “See anything?” I asked Michael. I sure didn’t.

“I’m not sure,” he said, squinting. “I think I might have seen some movement there…”

“Does the car still work?” I asked. At least the engine was still on. He got back in and stepped carefully on the gas, and the Blue Beetle started moving with a jerk.

I gave a thoughtful look toward the direction the sound had come from. “How stupid an idea would you say it’d be to go to check what made that noise?”

“Pretty stupid, even by your standards,” he said, but even so started driving to that direction. I gave him a look and he shrugged. “It’s not like there were anything else here in any other direction.” An explosion from where we were heading accompanied his words. We glanced at each other and shrugged, both of us. Let’s be fools together.

Despite the harsh landing we’d got, the Beetle was rolling onward evenly and with ease, making nearly no sound on the rocky surface of this place. It took but a short while before I could see two forms ahead, and I couldn’t help thinking they were getting closer too swiftly. We weren’t driving that fast – at least if we could trust Beetle’s speedo.

Two forms, one short like a child. Based on their stances and body language, it seemed they were in the middle of an argument, if not of a fight. Suddenly a voice full of rage carried to my ears, out of warning as if someone had just turned the volume up.

“…first you feed me to that wolf, then nearly destroy my body right when I’m getting it back! If you think I’m…”

Beetle’s engine coughed as Michael stopped the car. That sound caught the attention of the twosome, and they turned to us, looking startled. I and Michael shared one more look before opening the car doors without a word – he grasping his sword and me my staff, which had been lying on the back seat. I gave the two a frowning look, wondering if I what I thought I’d heard really was correct, or somehow twisted in the deafening silence of this place. Hell, maybe it hadn’t even been English at all and I had just thought so. These two didn’t look like your average Chicagoans, anyway.

Two girls who couldn’t have been more different. One, the younger, was dressed in what I’d say seemed like traditional Chinese costume. She was just a little kid, really, not even in her teens yet. Her hair was tied on two buns, from which sprouted three braids per bun, reaching down her back.

The other was some kind of a punk rock rebel. She was wearing a black tank top that left inches of pale skin and pretty nice stomach muscles visible, and a short mini skirt under which she had thigh-length black leggings, but it wasn’t just her attire on which I based my evaluation. The look on her face promised nothing good to anyone who’d cross her. And I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what she’d done to her hair, which sprouted from under a bandana around her head like the leaves of a demented palm tree.

Yep, they definitely seemed to have been in the middle of an argument, but right now just stood there, frozen, staring at us. The younger snapped out of it first. She sprang quickly to us, not close enough to touch, but still closer to us than she’d been to her companion – in fact, putting us in between the two, a fact which I’m sure didn’t escape Michael either.

I opened my mouth, noticed something, and blinked. “Is that… a panda?”

There was a tiny black and white creature sitting on her shoulder. It sure as hell looked like a panda, but it was smaller than Mouse had been when he was a baby.

“Oh, yes,” the girl said. So she did talk English. That was good. “This is Xiao-Mei. And my name is Mei Chang, pleased to meet you.” She bowed.

“Harry Dresden,” I said. Michael stepped to my side – and in so doing also closer to the little girl.

“Michael Carpenter,” he said, smiling warmly at the girl. Then he looked at the other one, and the warmth disappeared. Interesting. Michael wasn’t quick to judge people based on appearances. “And you are?” he asked.

The punk girl gave us a look, arms crossed across chest, her expression clearly stating she was dubious whether this question was worth answering.

“Envy,” she finally stated flatly, and I rolled my eyes. Yep, punk rock rebel right there.

“Does either of you have any idea where we are?” I asked, deciding to ignore her hostility for now.

Mei glanced at the punk girl and shook then her head. “I don’t think so. I… I was just walking when I suddenly fell into…”

“You fell because you’re a blind fucking idiot who doesn’t look where she’s going!” Envy exclaimed. “Yeah, thanks a lot for getting me my body back,” not that she sounded that thankful as the words were heavy with sarcasm, “but this?” She waved her hand at the empty land around us with a grimace that was anything but pretty.

“Your body…?” I started saying, but then something struck me. “Wait.” I stared at her chest. “You’re not a girl, are you?”

I received a look of pure murder at that. Which, of course, didn’t answer the question one way or the other. This… person was way too flat-chested to be female. But I couldn’t really say that she… he, whatever, would have been male, either. I squinted my eyes considering… their looks. Still rather male that than female, I’d say?

“So which is it?” I asked, giving up. “Just trying to figure out if I’m supposed to say he, she or something else here.”

“In truth?” Envy snarled. “I don’t give a shit what pronouns you worms use.”

That’s what I get for trying to be gender conscious.  “Fine. Going with ‘it’, then.”

It glared at me, but said nothing. Then a smile tugged its lips – a smile that had to rank in the top 10 of Freaky Villain Smiles, and I grasped my staff more strongly. “Well, if it bothers you so much,” it purred, and the smile reached top 5, “I can be whatever you want me to be. How about this?”

And in a moment the punk kid was gone and in its place stood a jaw-droppingly gorgeous woman, tall, blond, with full lips and clear blue eyes.

I might have stared a moment with my mouth hanging open. Closed it, when I heard Michael whispering, “Harry, what is this creature?”

“Stars and stones,” I muttered aloud. The woman threw her head back and laughed, and even her voice had changed; deep, melodious, clearly female.

A shape-shifter, and a good one, at that. Those can be tricky as hell. And did we even know for sure what this one’s real shape was? I took a deep breath, considering it carefully. I might end up regretting it, but better find out for sure what we were dealing with here.

I opened my Sight, took one look of the woman, and nearly fell down on my ass, laughing.

“What the hell you’re laughing at, fool?” Envy spat out, and now I had to bend over, leaning against my knees as I was about to choke with my laughter. That voice. That squeaky voice on top of it all was just a bit too much.

“Harry?” Michael asked. I could hear the frown in his voice.

“S…sorry,” I gasped, and made a brave attempt to suppress my laughter. Nearly succeeded in it, too. “It’s just… that thing…” I turned again to look at the tiny, ugly lizard or whatever the hell it was supposed to be, that was glaring at me with its huge saucers of eyes. “Oh Michael, how I wish you could see that too.”

“See what?” Mei asked.

I just shook my head, wiping the tears from my eyes as I straightened again. “I guess ‘it’ is just the correct pronoun in the end,” I said with a grin as I closed my Sight.

Envy, again in his, nah, its usual human form, looked at me sharply, eyes widening a little, and I nearly burst out in laughter again, imagining what that look would have been like on the little green worm.

“Now, that was a sight I’m perfectly fine with having permanently engraved in my memory,” I chuckled.

“What are you talking about?” Envy demanded, with a look that might have been frightening if I could have stopped thinking about that worm.

“I believe he looked at you with his wizard’s sight,” Michael stated. “It allows him to see things as they really are.”

There was a moment’s silence. Then Envy’s face distorted in a grimace so full of rage it wiped away all my mirth – momentarily, at least. The choice of words could have been better.

“Don’t you dare!” Envy shrieked in a voice that nearly tore my eardrums and must have torn some vocal cords. “Don’t you dare look down on me you humanmaggot!”

“Who’s the maggot?” I asked with a chuckle. “I think you’re confused here. Or in denial? But hey, don’t be embarrassed now, I’ve nothing against maggots, worms, or fugly little lizards, whatever you identify with, so…”

It’s a damn good thing my reactions have been honed by multiple monsters in countless fights, so when Envy’s arm suddenly transformed into a large snake striking straight at me, I had my shield up before I even realized what was happening. I heard a whisperof steel and knew Michael had drawn his sword.

“You foolish creatures,” Envy hissed, back hunched up, hands hanging in the front with fingers crooked like claws, face so twisted it barely reminded human anymore. What worried me more, though, was the strange light, like red electricity, that at times erupted in various parts of his… ugh, its, whatever, body, and I remembered with unease something else I had sensed with my Sight, hiding within that little lizard, something dark and twisted and immensely sad. “You imagine you’ve seen the real Envy?! I shall show you…”

Show what exactly remains a mystery, as at that moment a blond kid fell on the lizardry shape-shifter’s head from the sky. A blond kid – and an armful of food.

“You,” Mei stated with contempt while I was still busy blinking at the scene. Whoever this kid was, she obviously wasn’t overly impressed with him.

“Wha…” He was trying to find his feet when his eyes fell on the one he had fallen upon, and he rolled aside with a yelp, as if burned, landing neatly into a fighting stance. “Envy!” he exclaimed.

Okay, based on that reaction he was probably okay. Not that I’d ever really believed in any great friendships with the enemies of my enemies, what came to that.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Envy muttered darkly, standing up again.

“If not from the same place, at least through the same way as the rest of us, I would say,” Michael said, and I nodded.

“Did you too walk into a rift in reality?”

“Huh?” The kid, who had been staring at Envy with unwavering attention, blinked and looked at me. “I… don’t know. I was eating.”

“I don’t believe you losers!” Envy exclaimed, stamping on a bag full of some kind of meat sticks. “How pathetic…”

“Hey, that’s my food!”

“Oh?” Envy gave a baguette a hard kick, sending it flying farther away I would have thought possible. “That’s tough, pipsqueak.”

The kid flared up. It was a sight to see, someone as small as him making a kick that was only an inch away from meeting Envy’s head. “Don’t call me pip…!”

“Children!” I yelled. I’ve got pretty good acoustics for my voice, if I say so myself, not that I often use it that way. It had an immediate effect, as the pipsq… the kid, I mean, and Envy as well both froze where they stood. “Stop it,” I went on, still not quite on my normal speaking tone. “We’re all in the same boat, so let’s leave fighting for later.”

“And work together with this thing?” the blond kid asked me, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder at Envy. “Been there, done that. I got us out of Gluttony’s stomach, and you!” the finger was quite accusing, “did not keep your promise.”

“Wait, what?” I said. Stomach? Gluttony? “Do I want to know…?”

“Gluttony… and Envy,” Michael said quietly at the same time. “The seven deadly sins?”

“Well, we’ve got, what, six of them so far?” the kid said. “Though Lust’s gone, of course.”

“Lust… is gone?” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but somehow that made me a bit sad.

“Yeah,” the kid said. Then he released a slow breath and seemed to force himself to cool down. “I’m Edward Elric. The Fullmetal Alchemist.”

We just stared at him, me and Michael.

“The what now?” I asked then.

“The Fullmetal Alchemist! One of the state alchemists! Fullmetal’s my title. Don’t you…” he fell silent as we just kept on staring at him. “So… what’s the matter?” he asked slowly.

“Just that…” alchemy doesn’t exist, I was about to finish, but paused. That… sounded way too much like something I’d heard people telling me way too often. Okay, so let’s see how these people would react.

“I’m Harry Dresden,” I said. “Wizard.”

The kid frowned. Mei frowned. Envy made a snorting sound.

“As in, a magicking kind of wizard?” Mei asked carefully.

I nodded. She opened her mouth and closed it, not saying it. Nice girl.

Edward had no qualms. “Magic doesn’t exist,” he stated flatly.

“And we’ve a winner!” I pointed a finger to him. “Just what I was about to say about alchemy.”

“But…” he frowned.

“Different worlds, different rules?” Michael asked.

“Possibly.” Different worlds, huh? State alchemist, the kid had said… I was pretty sure I’d know about it if something like that was a thing in any country in our world. Based on his clothing and appearance, I’d say he was rather from Europe than some unexamined corner of the Amazon. Then I frowned. “Though if you’re not from our world, how do you speak English?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Edward said.

Envy groaned. “Are you just going to stand here talking each other to death? Who cares what language anybody speaks!”

I did – if we were from different worlds but shared the same language, that created some very interesting possibilities… but the shapeshifter had a point.

“Anyone have any idea where we are, or how we ended up here?”

Silence.

“And why just us?” Michael said after a moment. “Was it just a coincidence?”

No one had anything to say to that, either.

“Well,” I said with a sigh, taking out my mother’s pendant. “I guess there’s one thing I could try.” I couldn’t be sure if this would work here, wherever we were, but it was worth trying.

“What are you doing?” Mei asked.

“A simple tracking spell. My brother has a similar amulet to this. I should be able to find him.”

“Will it work if we’re in a different dimension or something?” Michael asked.

I shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

As I started drawing a circle on the ground, I could nearly feel the intent looks I was getting from the kids. Envy wore an indifferent expression, but didn’t look away, either.

“A circle,” Ed muttered. “That’s interesting.”

I stored the question of why for later and straightened. The spell was simple, fast to perform, and to my slight surprise, successful. The pendant that was hanging from my hand on its chain quivered softly, and I felt a surge of excitement. It died away just as quickly, as the pendant suddenly darted upward.

We all stared at it a moment, and turned then to look up where it was pointing. There was nothing to be seen, just colorless, dull sky.

“Umm,” I said. “That’s… uh.”

“Well, we did come here by falling,” Michael said musingly.

Edward was straining his neck, staring upwards. “If I had all the materials, I could transmute us an airplane, but as it is…” He shot a look around at the emptiness that surrounded us. Then his eyes stopped for one worrisome moment on Blue Beetle and he seemed to consider something, but shook finally his head. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I found it somewhat relieving that my car wasn’t involved in this… transmuting business, whatever it was.

“Is there anything you can do with magic?” Mei asked, pronouncing the M word with certain care.

I stopped to consider. I could always open a door to Nevernever. Of course, there was no knowing exactly where there we would end up – and some areas were better to be avoided. But other than that, I couldn’t really think of anything. Well, except trying to summon help – like my fairy godmother – but I was far from desperate enough for that.

“Everything I can think might leave us worse than we started,” I said. Michael nodded thoughtfully, probably guessing what I’d been thinking. “I’d rather explore this place a bit more before trying something desperate.”

“You do that. I’m off,” Envy snorted, and promptly turned into some kind of a large bird and flew away.

“They can do that?” Edward said, staring after the bird with a frown.

“Apparently,” I said, and made a mental note of checking anyone we might run into with my Sight. Who knew in what shape this guy would pop up next time. I kind of doubted that he… it… whatever, they, would be able to fly away from here.

“Good riddance, anyway,” Edward spat out. “So, what shall we do?” Hands on his hips he gave a glare at my pendant that was still hovering in the air, as if all this were somehow its fault.

“Explore this place?” Mei suggested. “Just because there is nothing here doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be anything anywhere else.”

Looking at the emptiness all around us I didn’t feel confident about this, but sure, just standing in one place was quite unlikely to help.

We packed ourselves into the Blue Beetle. I wasn’t quite convinced of how productive it would be just to drive randomly around, but until I’d think of a better suggestion I kept my mouth shut. Michael took the wheel again and the kids settled on the back seat. I politely and in a very grown-up way ignored what Edward was muttering under his breath of museumpieces, and then bit down a curse when the engine coughed and the car stopped before it even really got going.

Michael gave a sigh. “I guess the fall did take its toll, in the end.”

“Can’t you fix it with magic?” Mei asked, leaning forward from the backseat.

I shook my head. “Magic and technology don’t mix.”

“That’s sounds remarkably unpractical,” Edward stated and got out of the car.

I stepped out of the car as well, trying my hardest not to glower at him. “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me, I’d never realized why my life’s so effing complicated.”

He ignored me, watching the car with a thoughtful look. “I could fix it,” he offered, and I raised my eyebrows. “And improve it at the same time, too.”

“Fixing would be fine,” I grunted, “But I’m not so sure if I want your improvements.”

“Oh? Well, suit yourself.” Without waiting for any further comments he clapped his hands together, then clapped the ground, there was something that shivered in the air and…. damn.

Michael got back in, turned the key, and the engine started purring more softly than ever before. “Well,” he said in a slightly surprised tone, and shot the kid a pensive look. “That certainly looked a lot like magic.”

“It’s not magic,” Edward said, while Mei started saying something about this being a very peculiar way of performing alchemy, without a circle or something. I reminded myself that I would have to ask them about this circle business later. For now, all I could do was to stare at my car.

Damn.

Okay, so it was running again. Great. That was great alright. Just…

It was back in one color, too.

Red.

“It’s supposed to be blue…!”

Edward had been looking at me with a somewhat self-satisfied expression, which quickly turned into a scowl. “How was I to know that? It had more red in it than any other color!”

Well, that was true. But still… “It’s the Blue Beetle, damn it!”

“Stop whining, Harry,” Michael said. “You got it fixed for free. You can use the money you spared to buy some car paint, if you wish.”

“Nah,” I said, and released a breath, forcing myself to calm down. “Won’t be long before it’s all battered again and I got to replace some part.”

“What?” the kid exclaimed. “Take a better care of it after I had the trouble to…” He fell silent, looking shocked. “Damn,” he muttered then. “I’m sounding like Winry…”

“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s get going.”

We drove a while straight forward. Nothing changed in the view, and just like before, I got the feeling we were moving faster than what the speedometer claimed. As we drove, Mei explained the basics of how alchemy worked, with some side comments from Edward. All things considered, I got to say the basic rules aren’t that different from magic.

“Are you a wizard too, mister Carpenter?” Mei asked.

Michael shook his head. “Just call me Michael, okay? And I’m not a wizard, I’m a knight. A holy knight,” he added after a short pause.

Edward gave a frowning look at his sword that was propped between them together with my stuff.

After a while I shook my head. “This isn’t going to work.”

“I’m afraid you’re right about that,” Edward said, staring gloomily out at the unchanging scenery.

Michael let the car roll to a stop.

(And this is how far I got, I'm afraid. The rest is just random snippets.)

(Envy comes back and tells them they’re inside of a ball)

Ed was eyeing Envy suspiciously. “If you can fly, why haven’t you done it before?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Perhaps,” Mei said thoughtfully, “they were just too heavy back then. Now they’ve got to be much lighter. I mean, where would all that mass come from now, after having just eaten one single monster thingy?”

I had no bloody idea what she was talking about. “What monster?”

(explanation)

“You eat monsters?”

“Monsters, nosy wizards, annoying brats… I’m omnivorous.”

Edward was frowning. “If we are on the inner surface of a ball” he said slowly, “that has short enough diameter that you could easily fly through it, how come there is no curvature on the ground?”

I paused and looked around. The kid had a point. All around us the ground was completely flat.

“There was curvature when I looked at it from the air,” Envy put in, looking around as well with a frowning look that probably mirrored my own.

“Is that important?” Michael asked. “I mean, it is weird, certainly, but it won’t help us get away, will it?”

“Perhaps not,” I said, “but understanding this place might be helpful.” Or wouldn’t hurt, at the very least.

(Michael is being Michael)

”I’m a homunculus, remember! An artificial human! I wasn’t even created by this god of yours!”

Michael was unshaken. “And who was it that created your creator? Do you know that? Everything in this universe has its origin in Our Lord.”

“Michael,” I said to him in a low tone. “You’re not really trying to save a deadly sin here, are you?”

(Harry thought Ed and Mei are younger than they are)

“So how old are you guys?”

“I’m fifteen,” Edward grunted.

“Thirteen!” Mei exclaimed, making a little movement with her hands that made me think she might have shown the number with her fingers if she had enough fingers.

“What the hell.” I stared at them. “Don’t they feed their children where you come from?”

“And what do they feed their kids where you come from!” Edward shrieked. “Don’t you go calling me little, beanstalk!”

“Well, he is, like, twice your height, pipsqueak,” Envy put in, not that helpfully.

“Edward,” Michael said calmly, placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder and stopping him in mid-jump toward Envy. “Take it easy.”

(There’s a battle against some random monster)

“Okay, so… let’s see. We’ve got one wizard, one holy knight, one state alchemist, and one deadly sin… and the one to beat the monster’s ass is a tiny little girl.”

[cinnamonest]

Hiiiiii !! I hope you're doing okay!

Not quite your usual ask as this will concern Genshin women (I hope that's alright), but I've been thinking about your Male Majority AU A LOT. It became a big fav of mine and I'd really like to write some OS (or even a multi-chap fic) about it sometimes.

I was wondering, what do you think the playable girls are/have become in this AU ? I imagine most of them end up the same fate as Reader, but what about those originally in high power such as Jean, Ningguang, Ganyu, Kokomi, etc,,.

Please know your MMAU and Hybrids posts are some of my favourites, though all of your writings are great. Have a nice day!!

AHHHH thank you <3333 I'm so glad bc I love it to and omg I loved making this so much. Words cannot express how much I love the girls and making fictional girls I love suffer is my lifeblood so this was a blessing to receive ( ´ ω ` ) I would love to write another one of these soon too, I didn't get around to Ningguang  this time but I'd like to eventually (and also Lisa love of my life, and Shenhe too) but I did get several gorls here.

In case that isn't clear enough for everyone: this is bad things happening to the girl cast. Past experience tells me a lot of people are much more sensitive to this sort of thing as opposed to reader-inserts (which is totally fine, I understand why) but basically, if you do not like the thought of female characters going through similar things I write reader-inserts going through, you will want to skip this.

I know it can be character-specific for some people's discomfort, so, while most of the girls are mentioned at least a little, these are the ones with more detailed entries: (Amber, Noelle, Xinyan, Fischl, Lumine, Mona, Ganyu, Kokomi, Sara, Beidou)

Warnings: the usual for the AU (misogyny, fairly dark overall, prostitution, sex slavery etc), mentions of classism, very brief mention of arranged marriages between distant relatives but nothing enough to warrant the actual incest tag, also intense pain/blood mention on Ganyu's (also forgive me but I was obligated to reference the horn-snapping thing lmao)

------

First some more general summary/worldbuilding:

The obvious glaring issue to be addressed here, is what happens regarding visions. It's rare to see a girl get one (they usually have the ambition and willpower broken out of them pretty early on), but sometimes they will get them when they're very young, before, you know, they have their spirits totally crushed by the brutal realities of the world and all that.

It's seen as sort of a red flag, a warning sign that the individual is going to be more rebellious and independently-minded than most. That being said, it can be put to good use. Dendro and hydro in particular have a lot of domestic uses. It's also something that could be a potential selling point, that often ends up getting them aligned with specific occupations. If you're a farmer, for example, having a girl that can quite literally make plants grow or water them in a few seconds' time is quite useful, so they'll often seek them out. If you're a common fisherman, you could really benefit from being able to electrocute water, and then just have to wait for all the dead fish to come floating to the surface and net them up. Vision-havers often make for good partners with such individuals in this way, and the girls are often very willing to comply and be partners, since it means getting to live with a singular person or a small handful of people, a much easier life than prostitution or the like.

Pyro, geo, and cryo, however, are seen as a lot more problematic, due to their high damage potential and relative lack of use for anything besides combative purposes. Sure, maybe the first can light the occasional fire at night, the other two can maybe make a path to cross a river or something, but outside of a handful of specific scenarios, they're not as immediately useful, and a lot more dangerous to whoever they decide to blast a burst of fire or ice or a huge chunk of rock at.

Firstly, they don't get weapons, which significantly limits the potential to cause harm. Their range is far smaller, and the output of energy far less. Still, they can harm those who come close, so more action is often necessary. Total destruction has unknown effects, and removing it far from their person leads to a sort of mental shutdown based on experimentation, so the best solution is to merely keep it close, but not in their possession. Usually it's just handed over to whoever happens to be the legal guardian or owner, who keeps it on their person, and gives it over when it can be useful. Some, of course, come to trust their property enough that they just let them have it at all times, but that's a rarer occurrence.

It's also seen as, or at least presented as, a benevolent thing. Oh, you can't have that. You're going to accidentally hurt yourself with it. Give it to me and I'll take good care of it. Such is one of many excuses given to them when they're first found holding one. Younger girls tend to obey out of naivete. Older ones who are a bit smarter might not fall for that, though, in which case, more forceful and less nice measures are needed to extract the thing.

Any girl can get a vision, though, and it's not really that big of a role in where you end up, aside from positively increasing the chances of not being locked into a brothel lifestyle. Instead, unfortunately, the class you're born into is more or less the primary determinant of your fate.

Yes, those born into elite families do have a significant advantage, as their families essentially bribe the authorities to look the other way for a lot of matters, or are often government/military officials themselves and get to keep their offspring safe as a perk of their power. Keqing, Eula, and Ayaka would probably have the best situations out of anyone. Keqing wouldn't exactly have any real power or significance, and likewise Eula wouldn't be allowed to be a knight, but they'd be safe, which is what really matters.

Elite, wealthy noble families usually just keep girls inside at all times, they essentially never leave the confines of their estates, and usually are well-guarded at all times. The way this is done often varies -- in Liyue and Inazuma they have sprouted the tradition of eunuchs, and it's common for families to have a few accompanying the girls at all times. Ayaka and Keqing would basically be confined to their families' respective estate grounds, and any desire to get up and go anywhere inherently necessitates being accompanied by two or three of said armed eunuchs, likely whose sole job is caring for them. Likewise, they can't get anything for themselves, so it's common for these guards to also function as servants, fetching even the most basic of things because it's preferable to having the girl get up or anything.

For Mondstadt, it's really just more common that as soon as the girl is old enough, she's married off to a distant relative, whom she stays by the side of at virtually all times. Any resentment of your family's ways or personal dislike for them doesn't matter -- a girl who has spite towards her family will be reprimanded and, if necessary, punished to the point where there is essentially no choice but to abide by the enforced mannerisms. Smile, stay by their side, act loving and subservient.

Which would be difficult for someone like Eula, but it's not as if there's any alternative. She's raised from early on to be this way, and her family consistently tries to reshape her more independent attitude. Even then, there's an easy fact to guilt her with: if her family wasn't caring for her, what would happen to her then? If you hate him so much, how would you like to be thrown out into the streets instead? Aren't you grateful we would never do that? So if one doesn't want that to happen, you should be very, very grateful that you have a loving family willing to arrange such a good match for you.

Some who are born to simply caring families also have somewhat of an advantage, even if they're not necessarily nobility or very wealthy types.

However, being in positions of power or authority, organizational/combative/local government-ordained occupations, or even highly respected occupations is... kind of unheard of. So anyone like Jean, Kokomi, Sara, and Yelan would be unable to fulfill the roles they otherwise had, at least in the leadership aspect. The very thought would be laughable. Likewise, you wouldn't see some girl being into the legal sphere like Yanfei, nor any sort of business operation like Hu Tao.

They still work in those areas, just have more of a backseat role. Jean still "works" for the knights -- got married to (read: bought by) a higher-rank, and now gets to perform little odd tasks as needed, gets to sit and listen during meetings and the like. Likewise, the Hu family funeral business was instead passed to the closest male descendent, not just the closest descendant. Hu Tao still gets to help out around the place -- they did pay for approval to marry her off to the guy after all. It's not that weird, they're quite distantly related, and very normal for the Liyue culture, much like the Mondstadt culture.

However, for some, being born middle-class highly increases your chances of being private property and not public property, but in a different way than just staying in the family. Unlike what you might initially think, black markets for human trafficking can actually be advantageous to the girls rather than the opposite, depending on the market.

See, the norm is that when one is born to lower or middle-class families, it's put into records so that once the girl is old enough (they're given an extra year or two of leeway if you ask for it at least) most regions have official agencies that are tasked with collecting them and taking them to be "officially" assigned to either be given to some high-rank government member, sold to someone, or, if none of those, just given to legal, taxed brothels. Since families strongly desire to avoid the last option, and yet, because they would have no control over the matter (even if she goes to a singular individual, they still have no say in who), they've developed a common underhanded strategy. Pay illegal traffickers to more or less take the girl before they're set to be collected, and pay exuberant amounts of money for her safety. In exchange, the standard is that these higher-status black markets essentially do background checks to ensure the girl is sold off to someone who isn't violent, abusive, or otherwise awful. Then they just tell authorities that she ran away, and that they can't do anything.

Similarly, under official standards, families not only have no control, but no knowledge -- most governments have decided it's more... conducive to social harmony that the families are cut off entirely, that they have no way of finding out what happened to the girl, where she is now, or ever communicating with her again. These paid black markets, thus, also establish a policy that in order to ensure the good treatment of the girl, the buyer has to allow her to have written communication with the family (if literate), or sometimes allowed visits. If the family reports that they haven't heard from her, the traffickers' role then is to essentially send the middle men whose job is to threaten and, if a repeated offense, beat the living daylights out of the uncooperative party. It works out for everyone involved.

Those who are common people, though, who can't afford to pay off illicit traders nor bribe officials into letting them keep them, are out of luck.

This is also where the bad kind of black markets come in, the cheaper, lower standards kind. Not that families pay them anything. But working families who can't afford guards often leave their wives, daughters, and so on inside, and especially the more naive sheltered ones will often times venture out, convinced that they'll be okay if they just stay close to home. Some very rural families believe they're safer because they're isolated, and may let their daughters or wives or sisters go roaming around their farm or pastures, telling them to just be careful and always stay close.

But that's not good enough, when you have people lurking and waiting for that kind of opportunity. There will always be some that prowl about, looking for the occasional girl that just went out on the porch to water the flowers or feed the animals, just for a split second, so it's no big deal... but a person can be grabbed and snatched up, gagged and tied within less than a minute, if you know what you're doing as they do. And you can have them sold off for a small profit by the end of the night, and it's not like the families can afford to hire investigative services (which are, here, insanely overpriced and only available to a select few deemed important enough to deserve them, otherwise everyone would constantly be utilizing them, and often primarily employed by the government as runaway hunters more than anything).

But onto individual girls and their misfortunes...

-----------

There are some girls used in various performing arts, and this can be a pathway out of a much worse alternative life for some. If you have a skill or talent, honing it to perfection is highly advised, as it's one way to go from potentially living a large majority of your life as a breeding machine or onahole and instead having some sense of individuality and time to yourself.

Generally, there is a prevailing cultural mentality that you have to be put to some sort of "use" every waking second. For this reason, communal girls generally don't get a whole lot of free time -- you have to spend every moment doing something, even if it's not necessarily actively having sex. Still have to be talking and entertaining the company of some boy, being a pretty eyecandy piece at some sort of meeting, and so on.

But if you have some extra skill that provides some sort of value (that is, a performative skill of some kind, as any academic or particularly intellectual talents will be smothered like an unwanted spark instead), you can, albeit still controlled by some sort of manager of some kind, have a lot more room to breathe and exist on your own. You get some semblance of time to yourself because practice is important and all that. It's more like idol culture -- the girls are revered by masses and elevated to goddess status, worshipped and adored... and kept far away from their fans.

Consequently, Barbara, Xinyan, Nilou, and Yun Jin have an advantage. Xinyan's situation is a bit unique, though, because of the mentality with which it's approached, as well as the garb with which it's performed.

Yun Jin is a bit better off than them because for starters, she's more or less fully covered, but also because people have a sense of reverence for a valued piece of long-standing culture, so they're less aggressive and pushy. Likewise, while Nilou might be dressed... like that, but again, the whole reverence of tradition comes in, and she's kept up on a wide stage far away from viewers, the whole practice is very well-known and has a lot of funding to hire guards. Barbara keeps up the whole "pure" appeal, which also makes her seem a little more "untouchable," in addition to the general taboo that nuns are entirely off-limits. Regardless, several regions' legislation more or less forbids "celebrity prostitution" -- the act of a manager or production company making a girl famous for some sort of talent, only to start making more of a profit off of her body (something that happened enough times that they felt it necessary to make laws against it, even, although it's more about preventing profit that can't be taxed, more than for the sake of the girl).

Liyue is not one of those nations. It allows for such things due to, predictably, far stricter taxation practices that ensure it won't go unnoticed. And the culture of rock music is quite different from the others, a much less reverent sort of thing.

It's more high-energy and blood-pumping, the performers are known to get rather physically close to their audiences, and it's viewed as more pop culture rather than a sacred, historical tradition. Thus, people have less reverence, and thereby see the performers as less... untouchable. And if they don't view her as untouchable, that spells some problems, and a tendency for entitlement rears its ugly head.

It's not a sacred tradition, so why shouldn't they get touching and groping and sex as part of the after-show?? One huge gangbang would be a perfect finale to a such a heated, high-energy experience.

And unfortunately, it's not really her call to make. The only condition under which she can perform in the first place is by having a manager, and in this case, said manager decides that essentially running a post-performance prostitution side show would be incredibly profitable.

Which is a very accurate prediction. While rock music may not be as popular in Liyue at first, she slowly accumulates a fanbase, and while it's still somewhat of a niche, said niche is a cult following of rabidly obsessive fans. Does a portion of the reason behind her following have to do with those nice exposed thighs? Perhaps. Of course, said fans are also genuinely into the music, but there's no reason to not obsess over the performer too.

So imagine if, for comparison, the average dude had the opportunity to sleep with an idol well-known in her niche, and that's basically what happens here. They're willing to pay insane amounts of money just to touch, and even more to go further. The fame means that she makes far more mora per customer than the average prostitute, too (the reason it's outlawed in some places, since it's difficult to trace the purchases from an individual and not a brothel, at least in other nations). And as with many sorts of celebrity-fan interactions, it's more than just sex -- you can pay to actually sit down and spend time with the girl (very closely monitored of course, so they don't take more than what they paid for), for however long you're willing to pay for. Still, for both her and the other performer-type girls, this setup is still infinitely better than being in an actual brothel or owned by someone -- a fact which all talent managers are very quick to remind their performers of, a sort of quiet looming threat that if the girls can't keep up the singing or dancing or acting or whatever they do, then that's where they'll end up.

As for her, well, she has a rambunctious spirit and all, but conversations with creepy guys aren't exactly the ideal way to spend one's time. There's a lot of o-oh, uh... thanks...? in response to some compliments she might get. Keep in mind, there's no culture of respect or politeness in which guys are informed that such comments are not really going to be perceived as compliments, that a girl might not be all that flattered by it. So because it's totally appropriate in their minds, the most vulgar, disgusting strings of words you can imagine are much more likely to be given out as compliments -- although it's with complete sincerity and coming from a good intention, so, she can't bring herself to be too upset... and besides, she's supposed to say thanks and smile and take it or the manager might get mad.

And it's exhausting. Day after day. As if performances weren't tiring enough. Some people start to notice -- she looks less energetic than usual. She seems tired. She's oddly quiet. It creates some concern. This ultimately leads to an incident in which she ends up passing out on stage out of sheer exhaustion, and that's pretty significant when you consider the amount of weariness it takes for that to happen to such a naturally high-energy person.

Which actually warrants a quick questioning from a medical worker that's called for her, the contents of said conversation end up reaching law enforcement, and turns out, it'll not legal to work her that much. There's labor laws in this nation, after all. Out with the old manager, in with a new one. After that, she gets a much more balanced schedule, is allowed to take days off even... before going right back to it. Phew. The music industry is tough.

------

A very, very, very few girls make a life by themselves.

Is it legal? No. Do they take the risk anyway? Of course, if you can you might as well. In any universe, you can get away with quite a lot by simply pretending you're allowed to. It's really astounding sometimes just how much you can do by just acting like you're exactly where you're supposed to be, doing exactly what you're supposed to be doing. Sometimes you have to dress or look the part, though.

Which is fairly easy for Mona, having the ability to make yourself disappear into a faint trail of water. Steal a collar when no one is looking, put it on, and there you go, you look like you belong to someone. Forge papers yourself in case someone gets nosy, and no one will really suspect you did it, since the default assumption is that you can't read or write.

A lot of people think it's very careless for someone to let a girl go walking around on her own, but then again, if that's the case, then it's probably someone really powerful and rich, and no one would want to get on the bad side of someone like that. So, incredibly, people sort of leave her alone, keep a distance from her even. At first, of course, she was naturally terrified it wouldn't work, but it surprisingly goes over quite well. After a while of living off of scraped-together funds (stolen from her own teacher and former legal guardian right around the time of reaching the sell-off-able age, before running off and high-tailing it halfway across the continent), she has to make a living somehow, and decides to do so the same way she would otherwise.

The whole "something you don't see everyday" aspect adds a sort of mysterious and exciting appeal that actually draws in customers. The idea that something is rare and valuable, something that captivates so much attention, sort of subconsciously lends her credibility, people take her word as fact. If it was just any other guy, they'd be less likely to even pay attention, much less believe the predictions, but the whole rarity and uniqueness sort of aligns with the esoteric nature of astrology, it seems fitting and authentic and thereby real.

The stature and physique catches the eye due to standing out amongst crowds (and the garb she ends up wearing certainly helps), they do a double take before coming closer out of curiosity, and usually end up paying for the services. Of course, many ask for additional services, assuming it's available, but those collars sort of serve as an equivalent to how another universe would have wedding rings -- when you point to it, they realize you're off-limits, usually sulking away in disappointment, but not wanting to invoke the wrath of some other guy by pushing further.

She also manages to bribe a local into letting her perform the rental apartment process because he's busy and can't make it today, so he told me to do it, I can sign for it... and turns out they'll allow it if you push. Coming to Mondstadt was a good choice after all, there's no way this would go over so well anywhere else.

One can get around for quite some time like that. But even in the freest nation on the map, it's still bound to come apart at some point.

As with any sort of crime, law enforcement do not like discovering that they have been in some way deceived for an extended period of time. It's embarrassing for them even under normal circumstances, and infinitely more so to have let something like this go right under their noses for months. It feels like her heart stops, hearing a knock on the door and a gruff voice that is definitely not the landlord, saying to open up the door. But the excuses aren't going to work this time, and trying to run away by slipping into the illusory torrent only leads to getting exhausted and coming out of it in the middle of the square in the center of town, only to be immediately tackled by knights in front of an entire crowd (watching with some combination of amusement and entrancement -- hey, look, the tights ripped...)

Damned landlord has been suspicious for a while now, but hey, she was paying for that unit no one else would take. But when she's no longer able to make those payments and ends up running several days late on rent, he realizes he can probably get a lot more money for sending in a tip to the knights about suspicions of criminal activity. Which is true -- it's well-known that, in all nations, there's a standard monetary reward for finding any runaways or otherwise unaccounted for or hidden girls, and potentially even more money if it turns out they're missing from a wealthy owner.

No such case here, due to that timing -- run off right before being sold or given to someone, so they'll have to find someone new. First, though, in cases like this, there's a crucial reeducation and remedial treatment to undergo first...

---

Gangs and treasure hoarders and eremites and all that still exist of course.

And so do pirates. Joining these types of gangs can also be an ideal route to obtaining sex for an otherwise sexless young man. See, oftentimes they will scrape their funds together and buy a communal slave of sorts. Of course there's a lot of bickering whenever the time finally comes to make that purchase -- one guy says he wants a girl with big tits, but another guy wants small tits, this one wants a young one and this guy wants an older one... eventually, either a compromise is reached, one guy with the most authority makes the decision, or, in a rather comical display to an outside observer, they may even take a vote on the matter.

Which is exactly what the Crux fleet does. There were a lot of differing tastes among the men, the vote that ultimately wins (by a single vote, much to the chagrin of those who voted otherwise, but oh well) was a set of characteristics: not particularly young nor particularly older, big tits and big thighs. Or, in the eloquent words of the member who initially proposed this set of features, 'thick as fuck.' Quite the win for the enthusiasts of said traits.

That being said, no one really decided on a personality or anything, so the guy sent to actually go buy the new resident ship slave didn't think much of it.

This poor woman has been through a lot. She's old enough to have been out in the world for some years now, constantly thrown about from one lifestyle and environment to the next. And she has a bit of an... attitude. 'Fiery spirit' is how the vendor worded it. Never been privately owned, always got the short end of the stick and sent to brothels instead. After a while, that really starts to wear on a person's psyche, especially someone stubborn and prideful by nature. Constantly having that pride stamped out creates a lot of resentment. The last of said brothel owners had finally had enough of her tendencies to cause problems, and sent her off. But if anyone can handle that, pirates would be able to, right? So they essentially shove her off on them for a low price.

Some of the members are practically intimidated by the woman. She's not a particularly grouchy or mean person, and is actually good-natured, but she has a bold energy to her. And as it turns out, she doesn't do things just because you tell her to. Scary. Aren't they supposed to be really soft and gentle?? What gives?

Well, it's probably a matter of time, right? Kind of like when you get a dog, and it may be skittish before it adjusts. They just remain hopeful about the matter... it's not like they can hold back anyway.

See, the thing about brothels is that they're still regulated. Despite the whole "need to be put to use" mentality, for health concerns, the girls get breaks each day, they get to take days off per month. The people who run brothels are usually fairly well-educated enough to know that such things are necessary. A bunch of pirates, many of whom have never touched a girl in their lives? Much less so. Why can't she just keep going 24/7? If there's thirty or so of them, that's not enough to spread one hour each evenly!

Or, wait... she probably needs to sleep right? Do the females sleep less or more than normal people? Or is it the same? They end up just having to ask her. Interestingly, plenty of guys have a lot of misconceptions like that -- some tend to greatly overestimate the concept of dimorphic differences, and think of the other sex as a foreign species or the like whose bodies work entirely differently or something, and are surprised to learn that yes, they eat and sleep just the same, they have complex thoughts and wants, they can remember things that happened recently, and so on. Regardless, this unfortunately means they can't all get some every day, so they end up having to evenly divide time. And with time, they learn to be less intimidated, and more commanding. Surely with enough time (and enough mileage of cock), she'll start being less standoffish.

Of course, there's also the issue of keeping her sort of secretive -- if other rival groups were to find out about her, it would be motivation enough for others to raid their ship, possibly getting them all killed. So for the most part, they keep her below deck... turns out though, that has some negative consequences. How come she's all still and lethargic and unresponsive? Are they sensitive to lack of sunlight, like normal people are? Seems like evolution would have gotten rid of need for sun and fresh air by now.

Well, they can take her out during the day, as long as they keep close watch and all. They just hurriedly stuff her back down there if some other ship approaches. Likewise, she's contraband, technically. Obviously they didn't go to a legal market, so they have no papers or anything. This makes it... difficult when arriving in ports that have active law enforcement posted and checking around. Hope she's okay with being gagged and stuffed in a barrel for a couple of hours.

One could find the ways of the will of the universe quite humorous, if you stop to think about it -- in another universe, they'd be taking orders from the same girl they now have bent over every surface of the ship on a daily basis, would be relying on her to take down large enemies too. Fate works in interesting ways.

---

Some roles, in contrast, remain the same in title, but simply take on new meanings and responsibilities.

The divine priestess of Watatsumi, for example, has a very critical job! She is revered, an object of awe and adoration... and a sort of holy prostitute.

They take the whole idea of her being a healer to a maximum extent. It is believed that by having intercourse with the priestess, you will obtain divine blessing and good fortune. Consequently, she's trained specifically for the position. Kokomi gets stamina and endurance training, flexibility training, and so on. So that by the time she finally starts to officially begin fulfilling the role, she'll be perfect at performing the responsibilities that said role entails. Each and every day she can spend hours satiating the needs of her very loyal and adoring soldiers.

Sometimes this means one-on-one sessions with individual soldiers (the promise of getting to have the priestess to yourself for an entire hour is quite the way to motivate the troops to perform tasks, and a morale boost too!), and sometimes it means taking a long line of them, one after the other.

Of course, some might say it's merely a natural, hormonal thing, but if you were to ask them, they believe that the resulting increased motivation in the troops, their increased vigor and elevated mood, yet simultaneous tranquility and lack of stress or hostility with each other, is a divine act of providence, and evidence to the validity of the priestess's deified nature. After spending much of her day tending to healing physical wounds, she also heals the hearts and minds of the soldiers too, with her mere presence (and body).

It really goes beyond being a priestess. See, in the religious canon that has evolved over centuries of development of folk beliefs on the island, she's technically a vessel that carries and serves as a messenger for an elder fertility goddess. Due to this, she's also seen as a predictor of fortune in the social sense -- the divine priestess being impregnated is supposed to be a positive omen for the people of the island as a whole, indicating birthrate prosperousness for the near future. It's somewhat akin to how traditional folk beliefs would say this or that sign indicates an upcoming good harvest or the like.

It's all done with what is, to an outside observer, a bizarre and even comical sort of seriousness and reverence. They take the matter very seriously and stake great importance on it, exhibit religious-like austerity while essentially running a train on the poor girl.

Sometimes it is akin to a religious ceremony. Once a month, on full moon nights (when it is believed hydro is at it's maximum power, given the connection to tides and all that), they have essentially a huge, one-girl orgy, consuming the entire night, complete with lots of food and alcohol. If the priestess were to be impregnated at that time, it's said that would produce an incredibly powerful soldier one day. So they all give it their best to pump her all full as possible.

And if one soldier in particular is having a rough time of it, shows a lot of signs of stress or depression, they just send him on his way to go straight to her. Sometimes even if a guy is sick or something, they do the same, and if he gets better after some time (you know, like the body tends to naturally do on its own when you get a cold) then they claim it to be the medicinal properties of her body and fluids that can heal even illness! Incredible. Although sometimes this means the priestess herself gets sick in return. This, they believe, is basically her using her divine power to remove the illness from the man and taking it upon herself instead. Such a self-sacrificing, benevolent priestess she is, to do that for them. They're eternally grateful.

Oh, but of course, none of this means she has any sort of authority or anything. Other leaders are still appointed to take care of the actual decision-making and all that. After all, she's priceless, worshipped, the object of awe and devotion and adoration, but at the end of the day she's still... you know.

But the Resistance soldiers aren't the only ones that get a sharable group pet. Of course, having that resource (read: pussy) readily available is crucial to the success and morale of soldiers. So the shogunate forces get a toy as well, even if theirs is not quite as revered, nor as... compliant.

Likewise, though, the Kujou clan does traditionally take this responsibility on, so like Kokomi, Sara was more or less well-aware all her life this would one day be her fate, and was prepared accordingly. She's not particularly eager or accepting of it, though, in fact is quite resentful. Some girls are like that -- they just don't have the capacity to comprehend the bigger picture of the world, so they're resentful and rebellious and don't understand why the hierarchy and order of things is so important. They view the subservience as humiliating or something, but it's really not, it's an honor and a privilege and she should feel very proud of it... unless of course they want it to be an act of humiliation and degradation, in which case it is. But she's not supposed to feel that way unless they want her to at the moment, of course.

But propriety is of great importance to Inazuman culture, and really hammered into people's heads as something to be valued, so... if these are the duties that are in place, so be it. These guys are a bit rougher, they lack the same sense that what they're shoving their cock in is a divine being, so they can be more impatient and demanding. That doesn't mesh very well with her personality, as you might imagine. Narrowed eyes, a sternness to her voice telling them to be patient and wait their turns... but they can just ignore that. Alternate solutions exist, of course, she's got plenty of holes, and they can be stretched to accommodate more than one person at a time, too. She also can't argue against it if her mouth is full.

They're still respectful, to an extent, and they appreciate her a lot! But she's also scary to some... she walks a fine line wherein she's liked for her contributions, especially a lot of the younger or newer boys are very fond of her, approach her smiling... but the smile wavers due to her intimidating aura. That being said, as she's frequently subjected to rather degrading treatment, being able to bend her over at any given time is an experience that helps a lot of new recruits shake off that intimidation. They still love her though! Even if she's not particularly nice or affectionate.

For a lot of them, it's quite literally the only female interaction they have ever had, so they take even the slightest kind words or praise or willing touch as a sign of affection, and cling to it like their lives depend on it. They become desperate for more, hungry for more little droplets of affection, or even favor, if they could manage to be so lucky. Plenty of guys have received a polite gesture or her slumping over on them out of exhaustion post-coitus, and gone on to inform their entire squad that he is now her favorite, based on this clear evidence. All of said positive interactions with her are considered great bragging rights amongst them.

And much like with the opposing forces, they also tend to have large-scale, orgy-like events at regular intervals with a sort of ceremonial flair to it. Kujous produce very strong and intelligent soldiers, so the hope is that with the sperm of so many men inside her all at once, surely only the strongest will manage to impregnate, producing the best offspring possible. In one form of service or another, she's just as vital to their success either way.

-----

And much like Inazuma, Mondstadt also values the health and well-being of their knights. But Mondstadt has less of an orderly culture focused on propriety and all that, so the knights are a bit less patient and more aggressive in their pursuits -- leading to conflict and sometimes subsequent injury when fighting over a girl. Consequently, they add some more funding to the communal sex budget, and get more than one.

Now, as mentioned previously, girls born into noble families like Eula are essentially protected from this sort of thing, so they usually obtain ones born to normal households, who didn't quite make the cut to be protected by becoming nuns either.

Which is a possibility -- joining a nunnery is one of the very few ways in Teyvat to completely escape being some sort of pet or slave. However, given the... exceptionally large number of applicants, while also having very limited space, they can't just take in everyone, so it's usually on a first-come first-serve basis if a space is open, or if you have some sort of benefit to them. Barbara, for example, much like Xinyan previously, is marketed as an idol and draws in revenue, all while remaining off-limits to the crowds of fans. Rosaria has her own set of skills, and, well, she was one of those "right place right time" individuals who just so happened to come along when a slot was available.

Amber and Noelle would have likely not been as lucky, but they didn't really consider it anyway, both are pretty happy in their roles. That being said, applying for the knights is also a much better outcome than public brothels, so they're fairly content where they are. Both are very spirited and dedicated girls who give it their all! They're very committed to being helpful and properly performing the job description. Genuinely, both are fairly content -- being in a world where it's all so normal, this is considered a pretty good life to be living, and they're both rather happy to be useful and do their best. Jean was lucky enough to actually marry someone, so she's off-limits to most of the knights, but these two are instead at the beck and call of anyone who needs them.

Of course, higher-ranked knights get their needs prioritized, but even after they're done, the lower-ranks can have some too. They're also very well-protected; in general, even brothels try to take care of the girls' well-being as much as they can, but that's harder when you're working with large numbers and need to make a profit, so sometimes those girls are just told to tolerate things they'd rather not. But in this case, with just the two of them, if someone mistreats them in any way, it's grounds for immediate reprimand and punishment. After all, the harmony of the whole atmosphere is largely dependent on the two of them -- when they're happy and all bright and bubbly, it lifts everyone else's spirits as well, keeps up the morale.

It's all very normalized to go through the meetings with one of them crawling around under the table, moving her mouth from one to the next as it drones on. Even afterwards, when some individuals come up to ask questions after the meeting, there's always some guy fucking one girl over the long meeting table on the other side of the room. Sometimes they have to tell them to quiet down. Sex is generally freely given, just depends on who is busy at a time, and they're patient enough to form lines most of the time. Sleeping is a much more involved process though -- with so many knights, they have to coordinate a sleeping schedule so that each one gets to have a nice warm body to hold at night once a month or so.

Oh, and of course, they take care of some small tasks too. Noelle tends to prefer cleaning up and staying in headquarters, while Amber tends to go out with exploration patrols and the like (they have to have at least one, what are they supposed to do if they get horny in the middle of patrol if they don't have an immediately available hole??), and she can do little things like set fires, light lamps, make food, all of which are more or less the only use her vision ever gets.

------

But unlike them, everything is so much infinitely worse when you're someone coming from somewhere... normal. Poor Lumine.

Most girls are just born into the system -- to a family, from which their fate is determined by class and by the whims of auctioneers who determine if they get sold or go to public use, and a few by special circumstances.

So when some girl just sort of appears out of nowhere, there's a bit of confusion on to what should even be done.

She's smart and observant and all, so she would know something is wrong. Walking into the city gates and being met with wide-eyed stares, the sort of surprise where people freeze up in the middle of some task and go completely still, fixated on her, slack-jawed and eyebrows raised.

There are plenty of reasons, though, to imagine why this might be. She does stand out, clothing and all, or maybe there's some feature she has that doesn't exist in people here that she hasn't noticed yet. With such a crowd as the bustling city, it's easy to not immediately notice the singular glaring difference between oneself and everyone else.

That doesn't last long, though. Sure, she might have been doing something against cultural norms, but being apprehended? That's a little too far! What could the problem possibly be, that this is necessary? Or that's her train of thought, suddenly feeling a sense of dread as a group of three or so knights surround her, tell her to come with them, refuse to answer why.

Rather bold, though, they think. Rather stupid, too. The runaways usually move at night, and try to stay hidden. But walking around in broad daylight, right in the middle of the street, showing off so much skin? What did she expect to happen? If anything, dressed like that, she's lucky she didn't get jumped by a crowd. Granted, everyone knows they're not particularly intelligent, but come on.

Of course, they don't seem very convinced by her story. They just sort of chortle and smirk, amused at first, quickly annoyed when it persists. From another world, she says. Uh-huh. Sure. Listen, don't make this harder than it has to be, just tell us where you're supposed to go.

But she's relentless in her wild fantasies she keeps spouting, and thus, they're forced to dig through databases, contact locals and see if anyone knows where this girl is supposed to be. The efforts prove futile. No one knows. There's not even a record of her birth or existence across the different nations. Maybe she really is telling the truth.

Not that it matters anyway.

No, a quick examination -- just in case, since if she really is some kind of alien, her body could be different -- proves that she has all the right parts. They had to get multiple people to hold her down so someone could do the stripping and examining, which is quite the shocking experience, as most of these guys are only used to seeing very demure and passive females, so seeing one put up a fight like this is quite unusual. But she proves to be very normal, physically at least. Tits for squeezing and milking. All the right holes and a womb, and hips that looks very childbirth-suitable. A little bit on the strong side, especially for her size, but of course not so much that it could ever be comparable to the average man. Besides, a few months of no physical activity should take care of that anyway.

They can just put her with the others. So they just haul her off to sell like any normal girl, kicking and screaming the entire time. She really started freaking out when she overheard a few choice words and finally put two and two together to understand the position she's in, they had to pretty quickly take that weapon away, and tie her up too much to use this newfound elemental power... and that... fairy thing gets put in a cage too. Maybe they'll sell it or something. Still, the girl fights to the bitter end, dragging her heels and thrashing like a wild animal. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing either, no, quite marketable actually. Some guys even pay extra for the fighters.

-----

Some girls are really sheltered, though. One would have to be, to remain in a little fantasy and never having grown out of it. "Prinzessin." Hah, give him a break.

That's the observation of one particular young man, jobless and just barely scraping by, who has decided to try his hand at kidnapping and selling to traffickers as a means to make a little extra cash. A nobody, just a face like any other, nothing special about him, and self-aware of it. People should acknowledge when they're just an average person, he thinks, and this girl could stand to take that advice to heart too. Sure, you can pretend to be a princess or whatever, but that doesn't change that you're just a regular person.

Gods. Shut up. Shut up! Please.

How did he even end up here? The poor man has been listening to this girl go on for ten minutes. What did he ever do to deserve this? He thought it was a lucky coincidence, and took advantage of it -- some dumb girl roaming around in her yard unattended, so he decided to grab her and drag her off thinking he could sell her to actual traffickers, and now has to listen to... that.

...that you shall unbind me this very instant, lest it be your wish to suffer the unbridled and maximal--

I'm going to gag you if you don't stop talking.

He's heard more words previously unfamiliar to him in the past hour than the rest of his life combined. He's silently sitting there, weighing back and forth in his head if the usual reward price is worth this psychological torture. Maybe he can just drop her off back at her home. Agh, but there might already be authorities there if she's been noticed missing, and he'll get arrested.

Now he's stuck with the consequences of his actions, at least for the next 24 hours or so until he finally makes his way by moonlight to a known hangout for traders (traffickers typically have a lot of overlap with Treasure Hoarders and Eremites and other such groups), and then he can shove her off on them and collect a reward. It's bearable... barely. She even has the nerve to electrocute him, didn't even see that pesky gem-looking thing attached to her until he got a shock to the face from a damn bird. Pretty sure these things don't have a lot of value when sold on their own, so he'll just give it to the traders too... but confiscates it for now, and the bird disappears with it, seemingly much to the girl's distress, but he can ignore that if he concentrates on tuning her voice out. It's somewhat hard to resist temptations too, but the traders find it distasteful if it's evident you had your way with the goods prior to drop-off, so he can refrain for now, maybe visit a brothel later.

He's glad to finally be rid of her the next day, after carrying the girl all the way to the next town over and dropping her off with a trafficker in the woods before the sun rises. Could barely discuss price negotiations over her babbling on and on with very eloquent threats to curse him or something like that. Nonetheless, he spends the day gleefully drinking away. He's already spent a small sum on booze by the time night comes around, and has just left the local pub when a familiar face comes seeking him out of the crowd. One of the traders from earlier. Says it's urgent. Draws him outside into the woods.

He has the same girl from earlier with him. Ankles and wrists bound, a very thick layer of tape over her mouth. The trader picks her up and extends his arms out, holding her out for him to take.

Take her back.

He pauses.

...Huh?

The trader huffs in frustration.

They can't handle her.

...HUH??

Told me to give her back to you. Keep her. Don't need the money back.

In one swift motion, the trader shoves her forward into his arms, turns, and bolts off.

And now, he is left with the girl in his possession. Can't take her home without running the risk of present law enforcement arresting him on the spot. He doesn't like the thought of just letting her go, either, could get taken by some really bad people -- hey, he's a trafficker, not a heartless monster.

There has to be some sort of alternative. Which he might be able to think of one, if--

I was nice enough to take that gag off, shut up long enough for me to hear myself think.

Ugh. But even then, there seems to be no real option that works out well. He'll have to keep her with him until he can find a trader willing to take her off his hands.

Which proves difficult, as it turns out, stories traveled quickly, and all the local traders have been told about him and the girl he has with him, and to avoid them. Keep her, they all say, some chuckling. It's not just a matter of the... obvious, but also, girls who are, ah, unique in some way, present a bit of a problem to illegal traffickers, as they can be recognized by those who might have previously known them and reported to the law, whether it's for visual traits or ones related to personality. She's too much of a risk.

And thus, he's just sort of... stuck with her. Ends up in a sort of limbo state wherein he's dragging her along with him, keeps saying he'll drop her off with the next person, but eventually stops trying. Yet, he's also made no promises to do anything else. And again, despite being a bit of a grouch and having participated in morally loathsome activities, he's not heartless, of course he gives her food (Oh my god, stop complaining! I went out of my way to make it for you, I didn't have to do that) and a sleeping space (--because I can't *afford* another sleeping bag, okay? I spend all my money taking care of you, you ungrateful little... ugh, come on, just share this one...) and puts up with some rather frustrating tendencies (I am NOT going to call you that, for the millionth time.). She can be... difficult.

Of course, it's not long before he breaks and ends up taking those frustrations out on the girl anyway... she words it something along the lines of 'defiling her with his repulsive plebian seed' or something like that, he's stopped paying much attention. Even if she squirms and pushes and spits insults at him, it's still a warm, wet hole. And besides, said insults decrease in frequency over time. So do the threats to annihilate him after regaining her supposed "full power," whatever that means. He's pretty strict about keeping the vision tucked away from her anyway... at first. After a while, he realizes that if she has her bird, she'll be in a much better mood and much less likely to ramble on and on, so it's allowed for short periods of time. Said bird is not too fond of him, though, tried to attack him more than once. She freaked out -- even broke character -- when he threatened to turn it into a roast, so the compromise is that if she tells it not to attack him, he can tolerate it.

...Eventually, he starts to think that this is okay, perhaps. He can just... keep her himself. Avoid law enforcement, take on a few odd jobs to get money for extra food. Scrape together the funds for fake documents. He'll just have to be vigilant so no one steals her. Not that he's getting emotionally attached or anything, no... so he thinks to himself whenever he's laying there at night.

--that if not for your misdeeds alone should ill fortune befall you, it would be upon me to--

Please let me sleep.

-----

Finally, there is one way to live a relatively free life: being a non-human, even if humanoid. Of course, the adepti fit this descriptor perfectly, so Ganyu has an easier time than most.

Working among humans is, of course, off limits. They wouldn't allow it anyway, and it would just lead to trouble. Thus, she lives a much more isolated life than she would otherwise, remaining instead in the wilderness, far away from people and consequential danger.

...But, of course, as they always do, human guys find ways.

There is an urban legend of sorts about the qilin adeptus. She's very special, because she's very free, and lives all by herself, up in the mountains, so it's said. That's a very foreign concept to most guys.

And isn't it a shame? Free pussy walking about in the wilderness, going unutilized. Imagine the most perfect, amazing food one could eat, and it's just left to sit there and rot, uneaten -- what's even the point, if the thing isn't going to be used for the purpose for which it exists? It makes no sense. One of the many enigmas of the non-human world.

Someone should fix that. Or so is the general consensus on the matter.

There's no need to make up some tall tale about her having magical or medicinal properties that will heal disease or grant immortality or anything like that, no. Some do say it brings good fortune to see her with your own eyes, but that's not really in the forefront of anyone's mind. What's more important is the very concept of conquest itself.

That's why so many people come trying to take her down. No real benefit to themselves, and it's actually taking quite a risk... but can you imagine being the guy that gets to say he's the one that captured and tamed a mythical beast? To come out of the wilderness with that creature in tow for everyone to see? It's quite the power-trip, egotistical fantasy, the sort of perverse fantasy that gets a lot of young guys' blood pumping (usually towards a specific bodily region). And it motivates plenty to try their hand at finding the creature.

Thing is, most young men are an unfortunate combination of impatient, loud, and quite dumb. So time and time again, they always fail. She's alerted to their presence and flees, and they're forced to come back empty-handed.

The problem is that this only makes the whole thing worse. After so many people fail, her notoriety increases, more and more people have heard of her, and only increases the sense of elusiveness and challenge -- that is, for every person that fails, it will be that much more satisfying of a victory, all the more of a source of pride, to whoever finally doesn't fail. Not to mention, somehow, a myth was born that if you break her horns off, she'll go limp and be unable to move, and now the boys bring up hacksaws and chisels and hammers with them. It's scary. Even if she uses an inhuman qilin form, they still recognize her too.

Of course, part of it is her own doing... see, she's still so good-hearted, so empathetic, that she's saved the lives of those trying to capture her more than once. Some poor guy knocked himself out cold on a rock... he'll freeze to death if left here. So she takes him back, puts him down close to the edge of civilization. Or, a few times, some guy has slid down onto a ledge, no way to climb up or down, and she extends a hand to help pull them up -- and run off as soon as they're on their feet. This only increases the number of survivors to go home, tell the tale, and spark further interest in others, and it likewise increases the chance they'll try again, but... she just can't let them be harmed.

But still, due to the aforementioned traits they tend to have, most fail, over and over. Yet, there's a subtle awareness in the back of her mind that, one day, someone is bound to finally succeed.

But as long as a human is peaceful... she won't do anything to discourage them.

There's a boy that's come into the wilderness these days to hunt. The other adepti would be a bit stricter, would tell him he has to leave, but... he wouldn't be this far away from the nearest village by choice. There must be a food shortage or something. And he's hunting actual game, leaves with a few pheasants or rabbits at the end of each day, and then he goes back to a small tent on the edge of the territory, having made a full camp for himself, fire and tools and all. A few little makeshift stations, one for tanning hides. Just a hunter, nothing more.

In fact, she becomes a bit worried sometimes, and goes to check on the boy, ensure he's fine, which he always is.

She gets a bit too close, though, and ends up stepping on a stick, snapping it in half. He looks up, having been crouched down and prodding the fire. Eyes go wide.

...But then he smiles. Waves. Doesn't get up and come charging at her, doesn't fixate on her with that crazed expression some have. The lack of surprise at the sight of her seems to indicate that he knows of her, knows who she is, but he makes no move to cause any harm.

He doesn't pose any problems. He never goes far up into the mountains, usually stays at the base of it, hunting small animals, only venturing up to get the occasional ram or deer. He has a routine -- hunts most days, every Friday uses leftover guts to go fishing, then on weekends, he hauls all those tanned animal pelts over his shoulder, leaves overnight, and comes back the next day with all the little tools and non-perishable footstuffs and books presumably bought with the money from selling the hides. Such a simple life, some humans do lead. It sounds pleasant, really.

And he still sees her sometimes. They happen to cross paths at a distance. He always smiles and waves, but never does anything to harm her. He's a safe one. She's happy he's prosperous, and goes to check on him often from high vantage points during her daily routine, the same walk each day. Oh, now he's cutting down trees... Building a cabin. Must intend to stay long-term. No matter.

He's not even around, one fateful day. She's only going about her path as usual. The same little walk she takes, each and every day. The autumn leaves pile up all over the ground. The area is so beautiful around this time, so the walks are even more relaxing, she likes to take her time, slowly making her way down the beaten path where the grass has been worn away by all the animals and the occasional traveler passing over it, and although it's covered in leaves now, she still knows where it is by heart. Each and every--

Step.

There's a sort of pain that doesn't get an immediate sound. Intense, overwhelming pain, that hits the nervous system with such a harsh, brutal shock, it leaves one speechless. Gasping for breath, chest and stomach muscles spasming, body going rigid.

Only after a few seconds does she hit the ground and scream. Falling down makes it pull further at the flesh, and she wails. A wail so deafening it could be heard for a mile or more.

And when she props herself up on an elbow, body lying on the ground, and looks down at her leg with watery eyes and blurred vision, she can still see the jagged metal spikes, the blood oozing out where the metal pierces the flesh. A jaw-like contraption, triggered by weight pressing down on the flat part in the center. The same kind of trap used by...

...used by... hunters...

A familiar face pokes out from behind a tree. Comes rushing over to help.

But it's anything but comforting. The soft smile and pleased expression makes it clear that it has all gone as was intended.

Sorry I had to hurt you.

He's still smiling. But so sweet. So soft and comforting, it isn't right, doesn't line up with someone who would do this.

It's okay. You'll be alright.

Pulls the weighted piece out of the ground. Can't pull it out here, or she could bleed too much, have to wait until getting back to the camp. Wait, is that even a problem for them? Can they bleed to death? Well, better safe than sorry. He asks, but she can't answer any questions. She's sobbing and wailing, chest heaving with rapid, shuddering breaths, body trembling. To see a revered creature in this pathetic of a state is probably very rare. He feels special. And very guilty, keeps mumbling apologies... But special.

She doesn't fight it when he rolls her to her side, gently ties her hands behind her back. She squirms a bit and jerks against the retraints when he takes the vision off her hip, but she's too restrained and in too much pain to do much. And she merely whimpers and trembles when she's picked up. Her leg is bent at an odd angle. Must have broken it when she collapsed, twisting it against the metal.

But he was considerate. Made sure to set the traps very close to the camp, so it will only be a short distance. He's memorized where each one is -- he saved up a lot of money, bought enough raw ore to make a ton of them -- and expertly maneuvers around each one until out of the area, cooing comforting words and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He did also get a saw with that money, though. Heard the whole horn thing, and you can never be too careful... but that can wait until tomorrow.

[vampireshmampire]

A Whole in the Family Portrait Ch 3/5

Guillermo is gone, and his absence is so palpable even the new familiar notices. Nandor's so busy moping he might miss his chance find a way to bring him back, and lose him forever.

But Guillermo's heard too many apologies already. It's going to take something really, really big.

Guillermo glares over the camera at the crew.

“I’m doing this one, and it’s only so I can set the record straight. Alright? It’s nothing against you guys, I just, I want to put that part of my life behind me. Okay? Okay.”

Now Guillermo looks directly at the camera.

“They didn’t lose me, I left. Five months ago, I put down a deposit on a little apartment, applied to a few real jobs, and then I quit.” His voice is slightly shaky, but remains determined. “I packed up my things, and I told my ma--I told Nandor that I was leaving.”

Guillermo’s jaw works back and forth; he swallows hard.

“I told him that I was done, that I was sick of being treated that way. I told him that I knew--” He cuts off short and blinks hard several times. “I knew he was never going to turn me into a vampire. And he got mad, and said that he was totally planning on doing it, and I said that was bullshit, and he said I was being ungrateful--”

The camera cuts briefly, and Guillermo is a few feet away, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, I’m fine,” he says softly to an off-screen crewmember. “I’m fine, I just...need a minute.”

When the camera cuts back again, Guillermo’s eyes are a little redder, but his voice is steadier.

“Does it hurt to let go of that dream? Yes. A lot. A...a lot. But sometimes you just have to face reality. Sometimes things just don’t work out. And there’s nothing you can do about it. So you know what, yeah. Yeah, he did lose me. ”

He shakes his head hard.

“No, I’m done. I’m done, that’s it. No, I ca--that’s enough. We’re done.”

-

"So I kind of....massively fucked that up," Rusty says, very pale. He is sitting crouched behind a low wall, an open notebook on his knee. He fiddles nervously with his pencil. "Nadja and Laszlo were really mad, I mean really mad. I thought they were going to kick me out. Or eat me."

He peeks over the wall and then sits back down again.

"Nadja did lock me in the cage in the basement and say she was going to leave me there to die, but Nandor let me out the next day so I think she was just trying to scare me."

Once more he looks over the wall. This time he makes a note on the notepad.

"Anyway, Nandor said that there was something I could do to fix it. So now it's my job to find where Guillermo lives."

The camera lifts up slightly to show that they are across the street from the TGIFriday's.

"And I thought, easy! I already know where he works, I can just follow him home." Rusty sighs. "But we spooked him last week, and he's got his guard up. And he rides his bike to and from work, which means I can't follow him in the car and it is /really/ hard to subtly follow someone while riding a bike. So."

He pulls a penknife out of his pocket.

"I feel bad for popping the tire, but desperate times. I can't go home empty handed again." He puts the penknife away and sighs.

"He was a familiar for ten years. I've been here for like. Six months." He gnaws his lower lip. "It's just. I didn't think it would take that long. Maybe this wasn’t–”

There’s a distant explosion of curse words. Both Rusty and the camera peek cautiously over the wall again. Guillermo is hunched over his bike, face red with anger. The camera only just manages to duck down as Guillermo raises his head to look around.

“Okay, that’s my cue. You guys stay here. No I mean it! You guys are not hard to miss!”

-

“Ow. Ow. Ow.”

The camera follows Nandor’s voice down the hallway towards the kitchen. He glances up only briefly. In one hand he holds a dagger; his other hand is open, palm pointing out. In one swift movement he slashes the dagger across his palm. A steady stream of blood gushes from the wound and dribbles down a large funnel into a heavy-duty plastic water bottle.

“Ow.”

In seconds the cut on Nandor’s palm heals and is gone. He drags the dagger across his palm again. There is another small spurt of blood before the cut heals again.

“Ow.”

The water bottle is barely a fifth full. The R U S T printed on the side are still visible, as is half of the Y.

Nandor looks up at the camera and says wearily “This is going to take for-fucking-ever.”

-

“Familiars do get turned into vampires,” Lazlo says, lounging back in his chair. “Just not--”

He hesitates and glances around.

“You sure he’s left? Right, good. As I was saying, vampires do occasionally fulfill their promise to make a servant a vampire. We have to, otherwise eventually they’d figure it out and we’d have to start paying people to work for us. Nobody likes doing it, because then you’re out a familiar, but every now and again, it does happen. Just not as often as they think it does.”

He snorts, amused.

“Honestly, you’re more likely to be struck by lightning, win the lottery, and then immediately be struck by lightning again.” He pauses. “And then win the lottery again, while being struck by lightning.”

-

There is a shot of a tall, run-down apartment building. The front door is heavily rusted. The paint is cracked and the windows sport long streaks under ancient air conditioning units. Most of the windows are dark. The words on the screen say Guillermo’s Apartment

“I have been following Guillermo for two weeks,” Nandor says, quietly. He is huddled behind a clump of trees in what could generously be called a patch of weeds and broken glass pretending to be a park. “I needed to be sure when he would be alone, so I can catch him off guard and take him away without being seen.”

He gives the camera a smile that is pretending not to be nervous.

“Fortunately, he hasn’t noticed.” He turns and yelps “fuck!” when he nearly runs into Guillermo, standing barely two feet away.

“I noticed,” Guillermo says, dryly.

Nandor lurks on the rooftop, gazing down at the sidewalk below.

“There he is,” he whispers. The camera zooms in slightly on the figure riding a bike towards the apartment building across the street. The figure comes to a halt and hops off the bike. Abruptly it looks up.

“Get down, get down!” Nandor hisses. After a few seconds, the camera peeks back over the ledge. The figure is now slowly and steadily banging its head against a nearby tree.

“Poor Guillermo,” Nandor says, sadly, shaking his head. “Look how this terrible life takes its toll on him.”

“Hello, Guillermo,” Nandor warbles with fake cheer and a painful attempt at a casual wave.

“Why are you here?” the human demands.

“I need to talk to you about something very important,” Nandor says, solemnly. An awkward pause follows. Guillermo spreads his hands impatiently.

“About…?”

Nandor glances at the camera crew.

“Could you guys maybe, you know, give us the space? For the private important conversation I need to have with Guillermo?”

The camera cuts away and picks back up on the other side of the six foot square patch of scrub that wouldn’t even qualify as an abandoned lot.

“I was thinking about what you said, and what I said, and what Colin Robinson said, and about--” Nandor stops again and gives the crew an exasperated look. “Seriously, you are killing me with this.”

When the camera cuts back again, it is on the other side of the street. The focus is zoomed in as far as it can go.

“You were right, Guillermo. I did not appreciate you. I was being selfish. I did not realize until it was too late, because I forgot that other people sometimes have feelings and want different things than I do.”

Guillermo folds his arms and looks extremely unimpressed, which does not help Nandor’s visible nervousness.

“I knew you would not believe me if I just said I was sorry--”

“Because I told you I wouldn’t.”

“--so I wanted to prove it to you, so that you will--I mean, so you will know that I want you to want to come back.”

“I already know that you want me to come back. I don’t care,” Guillermo says, sharply.

“No, not what I want, what you want! I want you to want what you used to want because that is what I want now--”

“What are you talking about?”

Nandor threw his hands up.

“I want you to come back!”

“And I. Don’t. Want. To.”

“I am trying to make you want to!”

“Make me want to.” Guillermo’s tone is very dangerous, but Nandor is too worked up to notice.

“Yes! I am giving you a real actual apology that I really mean!”

“I’ve already had apologies from you, a million of them. It doesn’t matter anymore! It’s too late! I can’t keep waiting for things to be different.”

“Yes!” Nandor says, pointing at Guillermo. “Yes, exactly! I never did anything different! But this time I am proving to you that it will be different.”

“You can’t. There’s nothing you can say--”

He stops and stares. Nandor is holding out the plastic water bottle in both hands, as if he is offering it up in supplication to a long-forgotten god.

“What is this?” Guillermo asks.

“My blood.”

“Your blood,” Guillermo repeats. “You’re giving me your--” The words catch in his throat. “Oh shit, oh my g--you’re giving--”

“There is nothing I can say, so this time I am doing.”

“You...you give me what I want, so I know you mean it,” Guillermo says, slowly, staring at the water bottle. “And you hope that when I know you mean it, I’ll want to come back home.”

“Yes!” Nandor says, excitedly, throwing his arms open wide. “Yes, exactly! Well, mostly; I am hoping you will want to come home in general, but also to me specifically.”

“To you…?”

Nandor nods, vigorously.

“Yes, because I have feelings about you. For you.” He waves a hand. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” Guillermo says, faintly. “No, I have no idea what’s going on right now.”

“I am in love with you,” Nandor says. He gives an amused little shrug. “Obviously.”

Nandor lies face-down on the ceiling of the library. His hair hangs down straight behind him. On the floor, Nadja and Lazlo stare up at him, unimpressed. Rusty is balanced on the top of a ladder, nervously clutching a broom.

“Nandor old chap, this is getting rather fucking ridiculous. It’s just a human! There are literally billions of them out there!”

Nandor doesn’t lift his head, so the words are slightly muffled.

“There are billions of them, but there is only one Guillermo.”

“He’s got me there,” Lazlo mutters.

“Dusty,” Nadja says, waving a hand. Rusty looks from her to Nandor in open panic.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am bloody well sure!”

Rusty holds onto the bristles of the broom and leans forward, stretching the handle out towards Nandor. Just before it can make contact, the vampire speaks and the familiar jerks back in fright.

“What is the feeling when your heart is being torn out of your chest and devoured while it is still attached to you but it keeps going on forever?”

Rusty gives the camera a terrified, confused look.

“Indigestion?” Nadja guesses. Nandor lifts his head.

“...maybe?”

Guillermo deflates with a long, strangled wheeze and slumps against a tree. Nandor holds the bottle out to him again, expectantly.

“I...I don’t know what to say,” Guillermo manages. There is a brief pause.

“You could say yes,” Nandor suggests, helpfully. “Or, ‘yes, I love you too’; that would also be good.”

Guillermo holds up a finger.

“Could you just...give me a minute?”

-

Guillermo is standing with the camera crew. On the other side of the street, Nandor is waiting patiently, occasionally kicking at the larger pieces of broken glass. Guillermo has his hands pressed together and his fingers against his lips. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes wild and confused. His breathing is rapid and labored.

“Ok,” Guillermo says. “Ok. So let’s say you want something for so long you forget what it’s like to not want it, and then you have to force yourself to realize it’s not going to happen and walk away, and then just when you’ve started to be able to imagine that you can have a good life without it--”

He stops, and swallows hard; gives the camera a manic, terrified grin.

“The universe just walks up to you and dumps all of it in your lap at the same time! What are you supposed to do when that happens? Other than have an anxiety attack which I’m pretty sure I’m having right now. Or a panic attack. Or both. Can you get both at the same time?”

He buries his fingers in his hair.

“What am I doing?” he hisses. “I should be saying yes, why am I not saying yes? Why didn’t he do this a year ago? Why didn’t he do this five years ago? Why did he have to wait this long?”

“Guillermo, the sun is going to be coming up soon,” Nandor calls. “I cannot spend the rest of eternity with you if I am turned into a crispy fry.”

Guillermo shoves his knuckles into his mouth and muffles a scream.

-

Guillermo is back on the other side of the street.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says.

“Ok, good,” Nandor says, nodding.

“I just, this is really fast. This is a, a lot to take in after ten and a half years of basically nothing.”

“Ok,” Nandor says. “So...that is a yes, yes?”

“I--I guess?”

Nandor frowns, sternly.

“Guillermo, this is not an ‘I guess’ kind of question. That is like when I ask Lazlo if he wants to go out to eat or have someone delivered and he says ‘yes’; that is the wrong kind of answer format for the question!”

“This just isn’t how I imagined this happening.”

“This is not how I planned it to happen!” Nandor says. “I was going to catch you unawares and fly you somewhere nice! To the river or on top of a bridge or something. I don’t want this to be our spot.”

“Our spot,” Guillermo repeats.

“Yes! Two hundred years from now I do not want to go walking by here with you and have to say ‘hey, look, that was where I professed my love for you and turned you into a vampire, right there next to the piss alleyway and the dog shit trashcan’.It’s not romantic!”

-

Guillermo is back across the street, screaming around his fist again.

Nandor, now thoroughly exasperated, calls over “Guillermo, will it be faster if you decide to be a vampire now and then decide if you are in love with me later?”

Guillermo stops screaming. He turns and stares across the road at the vampire.

“What?”

-

Nandor says “It is two very big decisions, but only one of those we need to make before my blood goes stale.”

Guillmore looks at the bottle.

“Does it go stale?”

“Yes, it gets all lumpy and gross. It was a huge pain in my ass to get it this full and I do not want to have to be doing it all over again.”

“So...even if I don’t come back, even if I say I don’t love you, you’ll still turn me into a vampire? You don’t have a problem with that?”

“I have a huge problem with that! I will feel like shit and my heart will go back to feeling like it is being constantly ripped out of my chest. But I will still turn you into a vampire. Guillermo, this is the proving part. I give you what you want, and then you choose if you come back to me. That is the whole point.”

For a long moment, the two simply stare at each other. The intensity of their shared gaze is so strong it can be easily seen from the other side of the street.

“Guillermo, I really do not want to rush you but the sun comes up in like two hours and I still have to get you somewhere nice--”

“Right, yes, ok, alright.” Guillermo takes the bottle of blood from Nandor. “Yes, I want to be a vampire.”

Nandor grins and clenches his fists in victory.

“Yes! Ha! One out of two, good start! Now I will take you someplace nice.” Nandor wraps his arms around Guillermo and pulls him close.

“Don’t drop me this time.”

“I apologized for that!”

Before Guillermo can respond, they are up in the sky, soaring off into the distance.

[lovelywingsart]

Forgotten Memory

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

So I did a few sketches of Emelia meeting the other lords(and Dimitrescu daughters) a while ago, and I threw in a little something for the Moreau one- well, here's what's basically the small follow-up that I teased for that one.

**Small reminder that I have a small 'Masterlist' for these!**

---------

*Warning?: Lost/regained memory, mentions of wanted parenthood, angst kinda?

Summary: A small, interesting discovery is made during a first visit to Lord Moreaus domain, leading to a heartbreaking revelation.

Emelia was silent. They had returned from her first visit with Moreau, and she had to admit, the 'Fish Man' was kind and rather fun to be around despite Heisenbergs dislike of him. The metal man in question sat at a separate table behind her, tinkering with what she could assume was an experimental piece for the Soldats with his hair in it's normal 'bun' for physical work. But her focus wasn't on him. No, it was on the tape Moreau had excitedly let her borrow. It lay on the corner of the table she had been sitting at, and though she had previously been sketching plans, she was unable to concentrate. Simply finding it at the watermill sent a chill of recognition down her spine, and she couldn't get that familiarity out of her head. It was as if it triggered... something. But she didn't know what, exactly. The cover of the movie alone was scarily familiar, but... she didn't know.

And so, here she sat in silence, staring at the cover of the yellowed and somewhat grimy case, picking at her brain for any possible lead. Not even the occasional German swearing behind her shook her from the concentrated phase she was in as Heisenberg caused a tiny shock among the wires he was currently fiddling with. She had been staring at it since she picked it up... She barely looked away from it on the way back to the factory, nearly tripping over multiple things while Heisenberg practically led her around. But she couldn't quite put her finger on why it was so familiar.

She was suddenly jerked out of her trance as she heard a rather loud 'FUCK', and she turned to see Heisenberg looking at his hand.

"Are you alright...?" She asked quietly. He shook his head, sticking a bleeding finger in his mouth.

"Eh, I'm fine... damn thing shifted on me." He muttered. She was silent for a moment, seemingly spacing out until she spoke again.

"Would you like a bandage...?"

"Nah, I'll be fine." He shrugged, inspecting the digit once more before looking at the thing on his desk. "Wouldn't be the first time I've had the threat of losing a body part." His tone was almost thoughtful as he shifted his left leg. He then turned to face her. "What the hell is with YOU, anyway? You haven't stopped staring at that thing since we left the ugly freak. Usually you'd yell at me to wear gloves."

"Because you should..." Emelia rolled her eye slightly, "And he's a kind man, Karl. Don't be mean." she huffed, shaking her head as he muttered something under his breath. "No, I... I'm fine. Just thinking, is all."

"Ah. Well, don't hurt yourself." He smirked, turning back to his work as she glared at him.

"Twit..." she muttered, her eyes drifting back to the tape. She swore there was something about it...

She finally reached for it, holding it somewhat close to her face. She studied every detail. Every curve of the title letters. Every bit of the scenery. It wasn't until she turned it around to read the back that she paused, her brain picking out a few words to focus on. She simply closed her eye for a moment, only for something... a scene... to flash in her mind;

A woman stood in bright, almost entirely white scenery, holding a small child on her hip. Her other hand held that of an older child, and the childs other hand was held by a man. They seemed... happy. But she couldn't tell... The faces were simple blurs. She could only tell by the distant sound of laughter as the man and woman embraced, the two children huddling to them with giggles. The woman, she noticed, wore her hair longer with a ponytail to the side. No other features were clear. There was a sadness as the scene began to fade away, even as she desperately tried to clear the faces of the individuals.

Emelia jerked into reality once more with a gasp, making the man behind her jump with a startled swear.

"Fucking-" He started, shaking his hand again before looking at her with an irritated grunt. "What now???"

She stared at the tape in silence for a few seconds more before setting it down carefully and pushing herself to stand.

"N-Nothing, I..." she started, her voice wavering just slightly. Heisenbergs irritation all but disappeared as he watched her, switching to confusion.

"Emelia? What's wrong?" He asked, but she shook her head.

"I-I'm fine, I..." she tried, finally just running her hand through her hair and walking towards the door off to the side. "I'm just... tired. I'm going to sleep."

"... Oh." He replied, his confusion still evident. "Make sure you wake up, then."

She couldn't help but crack a small smile. It was always his way of saying 'sleep well'.

"I'll try."

~

Oddly enough, the bed wasn't too comfortable.

Emelia lay on her back, her arms behind her head while staring up at the dark ceiling. She had changed into her casual 'night' attire, thinking she could think better with the light off... But it only clouded her mind. The scene she saw kept playing in her mind. Who were these people? Why did she see them?? She let out a frustrated groan, moving her hands to rub her face. It had to have been a memory, right...? Was she one of the children? Was she remembering her family before this? Of course she had remembered small things as a child, merely second-long snippets of a foggy past that still wasn't entirely clear. COULD she have been one of the children?? While the thought should have calmed her, it only made her question more. If it WAS her original family, why couldn't she see the faces? She should have at least been able to remember her own... Not to mention the scenery itself was entirely different than she ever remembered... None of her memories were ever pure light. Something wasn't sitting right... But she thought back to the children she saw. They were happy... Laughing. They were all laughing a pleasant laugh, even the two adults, who she assumed were the parents. It was the joy of the scene that managed to calm her, and she couldn't help but chuckle from the silliness of it all.

She froze.

Wait.

She gave a confused hum, almost trying to repeat the chuckle. She then thought back to the memory, watching and rewatching the scene in her head, her muscles suddenly tense. Her attention was soon drawn to the woman. The woman's laugh seemed familiar as her face slowly became visible. Almost TOO familiar. It was almost like... Wait, that... Was...

No.

She bolted into an upright position once she saw the womans face clearly, her eye wide as the scene suddenly became uncomfortably clear.

The adult woman was HER.

But why?? HOW???

She threw the covers off her legs and pushed herself away from the bed, nearly ripping the door open with a burst of strength. She nearly ran down the steps, her breathing halted. How could that have been her? How could those memories be hers? She was older in that scene than she remembered to previously have been before all of this, and there was very clearly no sign of childbearing on her own body that she saw or knew of. Hell, she never thought she had BEEN with anyone like 'that' until recently, how could-

She startled Heisenberg once more as she pushed open the door to the workshop, making him jump as she briskly made her way back to the desk she had been sitting at. He spoke to her, but she couldn't hear him as she grabbed the tape and stared at it. Her... A family... Smiling, happy...

Another vision played in her mind, this one she had been familiar with. She was a child, tugging the apron of what she always assumed was her mother. 'Can we? Please?' Her small voice asked. She was a quiet child, that much she assumed from the memories she had unlocked before. She was already greeted with a kind smile as her faceless mother nodded. This memory she had seen, and it was always the same; she led the mother over, sitting on a fluffy couch in front of a large TV. A movie always played, but she couldn't see it... Until now. It was the same movie she currently physically held. But something changed... It was as if a new reel of film was cleaned in her mind, and she saw herself look up at the mother she cuddled to at the point where the memory would have cut off. 'I want a family like that!' She heard herself say excitedly. 'Just like that?' The mother asked, her voice warped somewhat. Emelia watched her child self nod. 'Yeah, a big one, just like that.'

It was then that the previous image of her older self played, vaguely hearing her child-self speak of her own family hopes over the laughter. And that's when it hit her with a wave of brokenhearted nausea. THAT'S why it was so bright... So happy... The vision wasn't a 'memory' at all. No...

It was a DREAM.

A dream...

No.

It was a goal.

A life goal her child-self had.

A goal stripped mostly once she joined the corporation before being taken Miranda years later. A goal that Miranda herself had more or less stripped ENTIRELY with no hope of settling down as soon as that goddamn parasite was embedded into her chest.

An important goal she had entirely forgotten about until now.

The realization hit her like a head-on impact from Sturm, and she dropped the tape. Her eye was wide, staring at seemingly nothing as her breaths came in quiet wheezes. She didn't even know she was crying until she felt a hand on her shoulder, jumping out of her thoughts with a gasp and whirling to meet the concerned face of Heisenberg. He seemed to jump back as well, startled to see face that pure sadness and anger. She could almost hear the memories of singing as she stared at him, her body trembling.

"Emmy??" He asked, taking his hand from her shoulder as if he himself had caused the tears that now streamed down her cheek. She was silent for a moment before her lip trembled.

"I... I remember..." she whimpered, taking deep breaths. Heisenberg paused before suddenly pressing on her shoulders.

"Sit." He said quickly, turning away to grab his own chair as she sat carefully. He brought the chair up in front of hers, sitting directly across from her. "What do you remember?" He asked, his voice genuine as he watched her. She forced herself to speak.

"Do... D-Do you remember... Uhm..." she paused with a shaky breath in attempts not to start sobbing immediately. She HAD to calm herself... "Do you remember when I... When I told you about that memory... The one when I was a child and the movie...?"

"I do... That was months ago." He replied, tilting his head. "What about it?"

"Th-There's... There's more..." she nodded to the tape on the table. "It... It was that... and... a-and..."

She finally broke down, covering her mouth as she let out a wavering sob. She nearly curled in on herself, only stopped by Heisenbergs hands on her shoulders. He then gently grabbed her face, leaning forward and making her look at him.

"Hey... Hey, look at me." He spoke. His jaw tightened as her eye met his, and he saw a painful recognition. "What the hell did that tape do?"

She seemed to hesitate for a moment before finally opening her mouth.

"... I... I wanted a family, Karl..." she whimpered.

He froze.

'Family'.

It was a word he grew to despise over the years. He hated it. He hated it with a burning, goddamn passion. The meaning of it was lost to time and trauma, and yet it sounded... innocent coming from her. It wasn't malicious like Miranda, or insulting like Alcina. It didn't even sound like a pathetic joke as it would have with Donna or Moreau. There was true pain behind the word as she spoke it, and he frowned as he watched her break down in front of him despite clearly attempting to hold it together. She always told him her memories... Hell, he encouraged her too. He knew what it was like, and he hated the thought of the same happening to her. But this time, he didn't know what to do. 'Family' was a sore subject around the factory. She let out a shaky sigh.

"I-I'm sorry, I..."

"No, no, just... Don't..." he started, only to sigh, himself. "Damn it-... Come here."

Emelia froze as Heisenberg pulled her into an awkward hug, though it wasn't enough to stop the tears. Instead, she reached up to hold his arms while her head threatened to fall onto his shoulder. He was silent for a moment, feeling as she almost curled to him, only stopped by the chairs. He couldn't quite think of anything to say. Nothing to help. Not even anything witty.

"... Keep talking." He said finally, feeling her breath halt.

"... What...?"

"I said, keep talking. Tell me about it... I guess." He managed. He felt her head shift while she managed to breath enough to sniffle.

"Is that a joke..." she asked quietly. He rolled his eyes.

"You really think I'd joke about that?"

"... Do you really want me to answer that..."

"Just keep talking, Emelia." He groaned. She was quiet before letting out a shaky breath and speaking.

"I-I... I remember..." she started, clearing her throat slightly and sniffling once more, "I remember begging her to watch it... I guess she never argued... Not that I could tell."

"Hm." He hummed quietly, setting his chin on top of her head. "How many times did you watch it, then?"

"I... I'm not sure... A lot, I suppose...?" Her voice was quiet as she sighed. "All I can hear is singing, I don't know..."

He raised a brow.

"Singing??"

"Shush..." she mumbled, earning a chuckle.

"So what does that have to do with wanting..." he paused. Hell, SAYING the word felt like poison to him... But she knew. She took a shaky breath before pushing away from him, wiping furiously at her eye as she sat back in her chair. She looked over at the tape for a moment with a frown.

"I told her I wanted a family..." she managed, reaching to pick up the tape and turning it over. "'A big one just like them', I told her... I guess I loved it enough to dream of it. Children, a husband... I suppose I could have had... SOMETHING like that with the corporation, but... NOW..." Her voice then gained a hint of bitterness as she leaned forward to put her head in her hand while holding the tape with the other. "It's impossible thanks to HER... And yet, I feel as if I still want it, now that I know..." The sadness quickly turned into a hint of anger as she lightly tossed the tape back on to the table. She was unable to stop the new flow of tears that started, glancing at her right arm. "Bloody hell... How damn stupid am I... A goddamn 'family' from THIS bloody mess..."

Heisenberg was quiet for once, watching as she wiped at her face furiously once more. What the hell was he even SUPPOSED to say to that?? That she was right?? No, he wasn't actively trying to upset her... Maybe he would joke normally, but even he knew that now wasn't the time. Oh, hell...

"Don't be hasty, Emmy. You've, ah... you've got a lot of life to live." He spoke awkwardly, clearing his throat slightly. "Or... um... something."

He jerked back as Emelia gave a disbelieving snort before choking back a sob as she looked to the movie again.

"'Or something'... Not like anyone would be willing to contribute while I'm like this..." she muttered, not seeing the look he gave with her voice still bitter as she frowned with a trembling lip. "That bitch stole every hope I had of being normal... I can barely remember everything still, and yet this is what I get when I do..." her voice lowered, but cracked with a mixture of pain and anger. It was a mix Heisenberg himself knew all too well. "I wanted a family and she tore that away for her own..."

"You could still-" he started, only to stop and snap his mouth shut as she looked up at him. What the fuck was he just about to say?

"I could still WHAT, Karl...??" Her voice was nearly pleading as she looked up at him. "Even if I tried, she'd still... She'd..."

She had to breathe. It felt as if her chest was collapsing in on itself as she doubled over with a sudden gasping sob. She was robbed... The life she once dreamed about wasn't at all possible. Even if she tried. Even if she somehow found a way, she knew it would be ripped from her again by the woman in selfish attempts to fix her own 'family'. And yet, she felt the distant longing she remembered feeling as a child... It wasn't until she felt arms around her once more that she started to look up, only to be nearly yanked off the chair as she was hugged with a sudden force and nearly brought into the man's lap.

"Don't say that." He growled quietly, making her freeze. "You still have a goddamn chance. Fuck Miranda and fuck her plans, she's not gonna do anything if you do." He paused for a moment. "She CAN'T do anything if you do, because I won't fucking let her."

Emelia froze in his arms, decently stunned. She said nothing, though couldn't help but curl into his shoulder as she fought off more tears. She knew he did it to make her feel better... And that's what seemed to hurt the most. He wasn't the most affectionate or reassuring person, especially with this. Sure, he had his odd ways of giving comfort, but it was never easy for either of them. But she managed to take a few breaths, returning the hug somewhat as he set his chin on her head. There was silence for a few moments before the reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the tape, looking at the cover with a light fondness despite her anger.

"... I think I'll visit Moreau tomorrow..." she said quietly, almost feeling his look of disgust.

"Why??"

"Unless you would like to watch it with me." She said simply, glancing up at him. He seemed to calm slightly, but still shook his head.

"You sure watching that is the best idea?" He asked, releasing his hold on her slowly. It was as if he didn't want to let go. She shrugged, wiping at her face.

"Potentially not, but... I don't know..." she sighed, pushing herself back on her own chair. She almost smiled as Heisenberg kept a gentle hold on her arms. "Maybe... maybe it would help... He said it was one of his favorites as well, I think it would be nice to have... willing company."

"I wouldn't be 'willing'?"

"Would you REALLY be, Karl?"

He raised a brow for a moment before giving a huff, but he didn't speak. She couldn't help but give a laughing snort before sniffling. It was then that another thought entered her mind, and she pondered over if for a few seconds, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"I think I'm going to get dressed." She said finally, slowly standing from the chair. She was met with a confused stare.

"I thought you said you were tired?" Heisenberg asked, watching as she walked to the door with the tape clutched in her hands. She paused to look back at him for a moment.

"Oh, I am. But now I'm more angry than I am tired." She said simply. "Have you got any disposable Soldats?"

She felt a little better as she watched a broad, toothy grin form on his face.

"I can figure something out." He said, suddenly standing and moving over to his desk to grab something. "Go ahead, I'll meet you down there."

Emelia only nodded, going through the door quickly. She knew it might not help entirely, but she felt the deep need to destroy despite not showing it on the surface. Whatever he was able to put together, she planned on imagining Miranda's face on every single creature she tore apart while mentally preparing herself for the trip the next day. WOULD watching the movie help? Would it assist with more memories? Or was it the worst idea she had ever had? She didn't know, and she couldn't keep her eye off the case as she retrieved her own clothing. She felt the pulses of her mutation even before she slipped on her own shirt, eventually letting the tendrils of muscle expand and grow along her skin. The bone spurs were the last to form, allowing her to flex and adjust her arm slightly. There was a moment of silence as the muscle hardened, feeling her heart beat against her chest. She took one last look at the tape before letting out a growling huff, letting the anger of the forgotten memories flow through her as she finally walked out the door and ran down to the depths of the factory walls.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-One

Words: 3.6K

Warning(s): Explicit language, drug abuse

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"Babe?" I call as I come in from the hottub, wrapped in a towel, holding my bottle of Pepsi. 

Duff's sitting on the couch when I come in, reaching his hand out to grab mine. 

"We're celebrating tonight," Duffs tells me, grinning around his cigarette, and I raise my brows. 

"For what?" I question him curiously. 

"It's been two months since we started dating." He replies. 

"And that's worth celebrating?" It comes out before I can stop myself and his smile slowly falters. 

"I think so, but if you don't want to—"

"—I didn't mean for it to come out like that, Duff." I tell him. 

"No, Viv, it's fine." He assures me. 

"I meant, we aren't really a couple, so—" I stop myself once more realizing the grave I'm digging myself as he looks at me with a slightly raised brow, blowing smoke from his nose. "—I'm gonna shut up. What time are we going out?" 

"Just whenever." He mumbles and I frown a little. 

"Duff, I didn't mean it like that, either, alright? I didn't think you actually considered us a 'couple' since I'm still technically married and you're like a mistress or something." I run a hand through my hair. 

"Well, we're having sex, we go out together, we have conversations about our future together, neither of us are seeing other people or have an interest in seeing other people—I assume—so, either we're dating or wasting each other's time." 

"Okay, we're dating." I say. 

"Are you sure?"

"Duff, seriously?" I question. 

"I'm dropping it." He ignores me, reaching for his cigarettes on the coffee table. "I gotta go grab a couple things from my apartment and I'll be back later."

"Alright." I reply, taking in a deep breath before mentioning, "hey if you get back and I'm not here it's because I'm gonna try to find Izzy a little later because we need to talk about something."  

"Alright, I love you." He kisses my hair quickly and grabs his keys. 

"I love you too." I tell him and he shuts the door. 

As soon as he's gone I'm rushing to the guest bathroom and opening the cabinet under the sink, grabbing the grocery bag of pregnancy tests that have yet to be taken. 

"God, if you love me…" I say, finishing the prayer in my mind.

Children are and always have been a blessing in my eyes, but that didn't mean I wanted a child then.

"Well, I'll be damned." Izzy mumbles, eyes squinting slightly, holding the test I plopped onto the bar in front of him as he peers into the little window of plastic, seeing another, "|" as opposed to the recent "||" we had seen on my first test. 

This is negative test number five of five taken over the course of three days…

"I'm not pregnant." I repeat to him, taking this last test as the set in stone reality. 

"Congrats, your gig isn't quite up, yet." He says, grinning crookedly and I roll my eyes as he throws back another shot before saying, "So, here ya go," he digs in his pocket and puts two condoms packets on the bar in front of me, making me shove at his arm, "you obviously don't have any." He states.

"I do, I just don't like using them." I reply, glancing around, seeing the coast is clear of anyone I know in the crowded room.

"You like living on the edge or something?" He questions, aggravating me. 

"I like..." I hesitate instead of brazenly saying what I want to. "...you know…" 

He furrows his brows and looks at me for a moment. 

"...You like what?" He asks me, genuinely not understanding and I sigh. 

"I like…that." I widen my eyes slightly for "that," hoping he catches on. 

Nothing. 

"I don't understand half of what you say so—"

"—I like cum." I rip the bandaid off and he spits his drink out, squeezing his eyes closed to brace the burn of whiskey through his nostrils as well. "And ya know what? It loses its appeal when it's gummed up at the bottom of latex." I add, just to gross him out more.

"Viv, I didn't need to know that!" He scolds me, groaning, rubbing his face. 

"Understand me now?" I sarcastically demand. 

"Ughh," he wrinkles his nose. 

"I like to feel i—"

"Shut up!" He covers his ears and I laugh. "Damn it, Vivian, go back to damn near leaving the room anytime someone mentioned sex." He complains. 

"I don't feel weird about talking to you about it because you're like a girl friend." I shrug and he glares at me. 

"I'm what?" 

"Like a girl friend." I restate and he raises his brows. 

"A girl friend?" 

"Yeah." I nod. 

"You really know how to break a man's balls without even thinking fucking twice about it." He gripes. 

"I didn't mean anything bad by that." I say, genuinely. 

"You don't tell a guy he's like a girl friend." He argues.

"Well, you are." 

"Are what?" Axl's voice is over the crowd and me and Izzy both snatch at the test before he grabs it and hides it in his jacket pocket. 

"Wondering what's going on with you and Tansy?" I change the subject quickly when he gets to us and he tries to hide his smile. 

"Don't worry about it." He states. 

Axl and Tansy, in a new-found relationship, were in a whirlwind of puppy love. So much so that not even a week later, Axl would propose and she would inevitably say, "yes."

"Where's Duff and the guys?" I ask Axl as he grabs a drink and sits beside Izzy and I, lighting a cigarette. 

"Steven's with some Cheryl chick, Slash is next door at the strip bar, and Duff…" he trails off, furrowing his brows, "...I don't know where Duff is." 

"Oh, well, we were supposed to go out tonight to celebrate our two month." I explain. 

"Well, I haven't seen him." Axl shrugs. 

"He said he was going to his apartment." I add. 

"Haven't seen him." He replies again and I sigh. 

"Okay, then, I'm probably gonna head home and just wait there for him." 

"He's staying with you?" Axl asks and I nod. 

"Yeah?" 

"In Nikki's house?" Izzy adds. 

"...Yes?" 

They look at each other and then look at me. 

"What?"

"Whore around much?" Axl comments, about to throw back his shot but I knock the glass from his hand and tiredly glare at him. 

"A lot, actually." I reply. "Screw you." 

I turn to go. 

"Viv, c'mon," Izzy sighs as Axl storms off. 

"No, I have some more whoring to go do while my husband's off." I tell him. 

"He's an asshole, Vivian, you know that." He says in reference to Axl but I just keep walking. 

When I get on the street, I head next door to see if he's by any chance with Slash.

Before I can head that way, I'm halting at the sound of a sharp whistle followed by, "God damn!" 

Getting ready to get arrested, again, I turn and my hostility melts away. 

Robbin's grinning at me.

"Where the hell have you been?!" I ask him as he walks to me. 

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." He states, hugging me. "I've seen all the shit in the press and figured you'd gone to Japan with Nikki to work things out or whatever." He adds. 

"There is no 'working things out,' Robbin." I reply and he furrows his brows. 

"What?" 

"I'm filing for a divorce when he gets back." I explain. 

"What? No, Viv, you can't do that, you guys are Nikki and Viv." He tells me. 

"No, we're Nikki and Heroin and Mistress and Viv." I smartly shoot back. 

"I hate that you guys gotta go through this." He admits. 

"Well, we got married knowing it might not work out." I shrug. 

"Yeah, but seeing you two being married and making it work got me to realize it's something I want, too, you know? I just didn't think it'd be like this. You two used to be obsessed with each other." He rubs the back of his neck, frowning a little. 

"Well, it is what it is, Robbin." I say.

"It's bullshit is what it is."

"Talk to him about it." I scoff. 

"Rob, c'mon!" A couple friends he's with call down the street and we both look in their direction. 

"Well, it was nice seeing you, we need to see each other more often, you know." I smile softly at him and he nods. 

"I hope things work out, Viv. I really do." He reassures me and I nod. 

"Thanks." 

"See ya later." He grins, patting my cheek before going to his buddies. 

"Later." I mumble as he goes.

I breathe out and head into the strip joint, not finding Slash or Duff or anyone I knew. 

I eventually give up and just go home because I need to finish decorating for Christmas, anyway. 

Hoping to find Duff at home, I instead come in to an empty house and a sleepy Whisky. 

"Hey, boy." I step to him and reach down, petting him, feeling a small ache in my heart realizing how much he's grown since Nikki first got him a few months ago. 

We were happy when he first got him. 

Now look at us. 

I force it out of mind and decide to get distracted with Christmas. 

I should've got a shower and gone to bed because I ended up getting thrown into a pit of heartbreak all over again whilst trying to find our star for the Christmas tree that I swore I had put in a closet at some point last year to move it out of the way…

"C'mon, you've got it be here somewhere." I mumble, digging around on the top shelf, my hand feeling something familiar. 

I furrow my brows and lift the random junk to see the Bible Nikki had gotten me for valentines day this year that had "gotten lost." 

The star is a distant memory as I grab the Bible and step off the step-stool I was using and innocently open it where the ribbon is tucked by the back cover.

I see a scribbling of Nikki's handwriting. 

Vivian, 

I don't know if it's offensive to write in one of these, but my place in hell is already solidified so I might as well piss God off some more. Sorry, I know you don't like when I say I'm going to hell even though we both know it's true. The one problem I have with where I'm fated to spend eternity, is that I know you won't be there. I realized this exactly one year ago. I came pretty close to being over with and I would be burning currently (or just laying in the fucking ground, or flying around as a reincarnated bird, whatever the hell happens to us when we go) had I not made it through. I know I'm scaring you with how much I do, Viv. I hear you talking to God about it when you pray. You're afraid I'm not going to wake up one day. I'm afraid, too. I know, right, Nikki Sixx is scared of something, who would've thought? I'm afraid I'm going to take my last breath without telling you how much I love you. I knew I loved you that night you snuck me into your window and asked me to help you bullshit that damn thesis paper for your final. That was six years ago, almost, and I wish I would have been telling you that I love you all along, maybe it would have changed the path of certain things that have happened. I'm sorry for what I've done, what I'm doing, and what I will do. It's my cross to carry. It's not your fault, it never has been, it never will be. I hope you can forgive me if I'm not here this time next year...if I don't get any better, I'll be in a coffin before our tour ends. Jeez, this sounds like a suicide note. I promise that's not why I'm writing this. I hope I'm around as long as you are. I hope we're together in the next life, whether it's as two birds that mate for life, pecking at each other's eyes, or our spirits just find one another. If God is real, all I'll need is for him to let me know you've made it up there and that you'll be okay, and I'll go to Hell and take the brimstone and fire for all the damage I've done. Just don't forget me, whatever happens. I won't ever forget you. I love you, Vivian. I won't ever forget you. I love you.

—Nikki

My body locks up, my joints tensing, my nose burning as tears come to my eyes...I start shaking, an uncomfortable lump clogging my throat...fury encapsulates me. 

I'm throwing the Bible at the wall, pulling at my hair, screaming and yelling incomprehensibly before finally choking out, "why didn't you tell me this?!" I bark at Nikki who's across the country and can't hear me. 

But I'm saying it loud enough that he probably could if he really tried. 

I guess a part of me might've considered staying with him had he expressed his feelings to me earlier on in our relationship. It's nice to hear, "I love you," even if someone doesn't mean it. 

I felt robbed. I felt I deserved for Nikki to tell me that before I found out about Vanity...before he started choosing drugs over me...before I started sleeping with someone else…

I lay down and just stare at the mirror ceiling looking back at me, an ugly crack causing my reflection to scatter in multiples. 

Nikki must've broken it at some point before leaving. 

I don't know what the point of getting a mirrored ceiling was...perversion or whatever, I suppose. But the money and time spent repairing the damn thing over the years…

I glance at Whisky, curled up on Nikki's side of the bed, talking in his sleep while his back legs twitch a little. 

Maybe he's actually reliving a good memory of Nikki. 

All I can think of is, 

"I got on it to help with my shoulder and finish my parts of the album so it would be ready in time." He tells me honestly.

"And your shoulder's healed now, Nikki. So why are you still bothering with it?" I ask, looking at him. 

"It's not like I'm injecting the shit, Vivian." He argues, getting defensive. "Go read your Bible or pray or something...anything."***

And,

I throw the syringe at him, screaming out, "when did you start doing this?!" as tears reappear in my eyes. 

I expect him to come fight me, he instead ignores my outburst and leans down to grab the box of needles.

I get up and follow after him, my hands shoving at his back, nearly causing him to trip over himself. 

"Answer my fucking question!" I demand him, my voice shaking. I get the reaction I want, the plastic of syringes and metal of needles colliding loudly with the wall when he throws the box of them angrily and spins around.

"Vivian, it's just recreational. It's not serious. I got it under control." He tries to defend himself and I close my eyes, realizing I'll never win.

Then, 

"Andy." I cry out, keeping my hands on Nikki's chest, but the Finnish rockstar keeps yelling back and forth with the dealer. "Andy." I repeat, louder, but he still doesn't hear me. "Andy!" I'm pleading in a holler, catching his attention. "I-I can't do this, I'm sick, just call an ambulance!" I beg and Andy heads to the phone hanging on the wall.

And,

"Vince, I'm scared." I say in a whisper.

"Viv, you guys are gonna be okay. I'm sure you'll find a way take fix things just to spite people saying you two won't last." He assures me, his hand rubbing comfortingly up and down my back. "Look at me." He says and I do, and he wipes at my tears. "It'll be fine, alright?" I nod. "Okay?"

"Okay." I reply, sniffling again.

Also,

I'm hitting the floor as fast as I can, screaming as my ears ache from the noise as he just starts shooting repeatedly, and the house shakes, my only chance of protection is getting under the bed and I rush to get there, covering my ears as my spine paralyzes with fear and more shots fire out. I hear things in our house breaking and shattering from  buckshot that flies through the open doorway as Nikki is shouting "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" with raw tears in his voice.

Then, 

"I'm getting married, look." Vanity states, taking her left hand out of Arsenio's hold and flashes a shining ring on her ring finger and my ears perk up, apparently Tansy's pulled from her drugged stupor, because her heavy eye lids pop open and her face pales when I look at her as I hear Arsenio comment, "okay, um, here's something for Jett magazine," going with the sudden turn of events presented by the starlet.

"Did you know she was engaged?" I ask Tansy and she's at a loss of words. "I didn't even know she was dating anybody." 

"Vivian." Tansy's tone is dreadful and I wait for her to tell me about it, Arsenio cracking jokes in the background, causing Vanity's enthusiastic laughter to infiltrate the room.

"This is a beautiful ring." He states, grabbing my attention once more. 

"Isn't it pretty?" Vanity agrees as he examines the rock on her finger. 

"You, didn't you--"

"--Nikki Sixx." She interrupts him, and my brows furrow even more, confusion taking over me.***

And,

"How could you do this to me?!" I cry out as he starts trying to walk to me, trying to keep his anger low, but I get away from him, throwing a hotel lamp at him, only for it to shatter on the wall behind him. "What did I do to make you hate me so fucking much, Nikki?! To make you pursue another girl--one of my friends--so fucking hard that you propose to her?! Am I just that fucking forgettable?!" I'm throwing dirty dishes Tommy's used tonight, all of them breaking when they miss Nikki by merely centimeters, hitting the wall. 

"Vivian, fuck it off!" He barks and I grab Tommy's switchblade off the nightstand, throwing it next, and it barely misses Nikki's face. 

"I hate you!" I say back. "I fucking hate you!"

Finally,

“What's new…" He says with a small smirk, thinking about something before the corners of his mouth fall slowly. "...I've done a lot of shit." He starts and I look at him. "Shit I'm not proud of. I don't fucking know when to just do something a little bit. I can't have a bump, I've gotta go through an eight ball as fast as possible. I can't have a drink, I gotta drink the place dry. I can't have a serious girlfriend, I've gotta marry her." He says, and I glance at him and he shakes his head. "I can't just have a one-night stand, I gotta have a fucking affair." He finishes and I lick my lips, keeping my tears back. "This might be fucked up, but I've realized I don't feel like I shouldn't have had anything with her." He says in reference to Vanity and I furrow my brows. "I just feel like we shouldn't have gotten married to begin with."

I decide to have mercy on myself, refusing to relive anymore of our memories--good or bad--because they don't matter anymore and I don't even give myself time to think about how he finally decided to tell me he loved me after six years of jumping through hoops trying to earn it from him. 

Careful not to wake the dog, I get out of bed, hearing Duff's car pull into the driveway, and glance at the clock. 

How is it already 4:00a.m.?

I can't help but feel butterflies in my stomach, excited to see him because I've missed him.

When he gets in, he braces himself against the doorway of the foyer, cursing under his breath when his feet dare to slip from underneath him. 

"Did you have fun?" I ask him softly, smiling at him and he slowly lifts his head to look at me. 

"Y-You're still up?" He asks me, rubbing his face and I chuckle, taking a step to him. 

"Yeah?" I reply, wrapping my arms around his waist…

...Noticing he's keeping his hand on his eyes as if he's rubbing them, and his lids are squeezed together. 

"Are you okay?" I ask next, reaching up to pull his hand away from his eyes but he stops me. 

"Yeah, baby, I'm fine, just go to bed and I'll be there in a second." He tells me calmly, slurring a little. 

"Duff, what's wrong?" I don't listen, not buying it for a second. 

"Viv…" he sounds disappointed. "Izzy'll be in here in a second." 

"Just look at me," I giggle and move his hand again and he hesitates for a second, before sighing, looking me in the eyes. 

I can't speak as pin-pointed pupils look down at me, the sudden smell of smack fumes on his clothes invades me, faint but still there.

I go to open my mouth to speak but I can't…

He's floating on heroin and my hopes of normality are drowned.

[jemmydoolz]

Edgar Has Always Been Kind of a Bitch

hi okay so it's a little after midnight but I'm posting a fic rn bc it's the first fic I've written in like,, a yr and a half and also I'm rlly excited abt it??

anyway battle buddies/fahc jeremwood angst based on ramblings in a gc

(warning for minor assault implications at the beginning, and brief mentions of a suicide attempt at the end)!!!

Fiona and Gavin decide that what Jeremy needs is a night of bevs, and, to put it simply, get wasted, so the crew settles on going to a club that Friday. Jeremy only has one or two drinks, but boy does he get fucked up.

Ryan’s sitting and talking with Geoff and Jack in a booth, sipping a diet coke. He looks over Jack’s shoulder to see Jeremy standing at the bar with a much taller, more intimidating man looming over him. The guy reaches out toward Jeremy, who leans away from the touch. Jeremy nervously laughs and his eyes frantically dart around for someone, anyone who might be able to help him.

“Hello? Earth to Ryan?” Jack waves her hand in front of Ryan’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. sorry. Hey, um, I’m gonna go home, I’m just not really feeling great,” Ryan murmurs as he slides out of the booth, already heading toward Jeremy.

“Um, alright, I guess? Drive safe,” Jack calls after him.

Ryan speeds up when he sees the man grab Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy’s face flipped through a thousand emotions at once when he saw Ryan approaching, but eventually landed on confused but grateful. He gave Jeremy a look that said just go with what I’m about to say.

“Hey, babe,” Ryan says. The man immediately drops his grip on Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy does his best not to choke on his own spit when he hears the word babe come out of Ryan’s mouth. He hadn’t heard it in so long, and he didn’t think it would still hurt so much.

“Oh, hey!” Jeremy turns to Ryan and reaches up to peck him on the lips. “Where’d Edgar go? It’s his birthday, I figured he would wanna hang out with his friends!”

Fuck. Mentioning something about their friend ‘Edgar’ was always code for I don’t feel good about this, let’s leave. Edgar’s birthday meant I’m having a panic attack, I need your help. Ryan wanted to punch the guy that was practically feeling Jeremy up. No—he wanted to fucking kill that bastard. He and Jeremy may have had a severe falling out, they may have suffered years of heartache and longing, but he still felt responsible to make sure Jeremy was safe.

“He said he kinda wanted to go home. He went to the bathroom while I found you. You, uh, just about ready?” Ryan’s eyes flitted between Jeremy and the other man, who cleared his throat and mumbled something about needing to go find his friends before walking off.

Jeremy and Ryan both sigh in relief once he’s gone.

“Wanna head outside for some fresh air for a minute?” Ryan asks, getting a meek, obviously shaken-up nod in return.

Jeremy says something that Ryan can’t quite hear over the music as they walk outside.

“Hm?”

“Oh, nothing. It was dumb.” Jeremy shakes his head. Ryan has had enough experience to know that it was better to just leave it alone. They both wordlessly come to a stop and lean against the wall of the building a few yards from the door. Almost as if they had been working as partners for years. They spend a few minutes saying nothing, watching people on the street, looking at the stars in the sky. Ryan can’t help but study the intricacies of Jeremy, realizing that so many things have changed, but somehow almost nothing about him is different. Jeremy’s hair is just a tad bit more grown out than it ever was at the agency (also, it’s bright purple and orange, which is not exactly the most appealing color combination, but that’s a topic for another day), but he still runs his hands through it when he’s lost in thought. It’s curlier than it used to be, but maybe that’s just because it’s longer. He still clenches his jaw so hard it seems like he’s going to break his teeth when he’s scared. He still wears a tank top under his shirt, no matter how hot it is outside. His eyes still crinkle at the corners when he lets out a bark of laughter that Ryan still swears up and down sounds exactly like a squeaky toy. He’s changed, though. Ryan can see in his eyes that he’s become aware of reality. He knows the responsibility he carries, the heavy consequences that come with his actions, that death is around the corner at every moment.

“D’you- d’you want me to take you home?” Ryan says barely above a whisper, but loud enough for Jeremy to hear. “You can go back inside if you want, but I know you always used to want to go home and be alone after Edgar shows up.” Jeremy lets out the tiniest breathy chuckle.

“Edgar has always been kind of a bitch, hasn’t he?” Jeremy says as he looks away from the sky to meet Ryan’s gaze, and his heart falls apart all over again for the thousandth time. That fond look of reminiscence and joy was one Ryan donned frequently at the agency. “I- Yeah. yeah. I’d really appreciate a ride home. I’m just a little too drunk to drive, I think.”

“Alright. I parked just down the street. Penthouse or your apartment?” Ryan hadn’t even noticed that Jeremy did seem somewhat tipsy; his Boston accent slipping in occasionally and his words slurring the tiniest bit.

“Um, apartment,” Jeremy says. “D’you rem-”

“Yes, I remember where your apartment is, Jeremy.”

It’s only a few minutes into the drive to the other side of town when Jeremy pipes up. “I honestly didn’t really expect you to help me. I didn’t expect you to remember Edgar, either. I dunno why I said it, I guess just vaguely hoping you would even though it’s been, what, three years?” he pauses for a moment and just takes in Ryan's profile. “I always hope you remember things from then. I know it went to shit, but we still had so much fun. We made so many memories and did so much dumb shit there. But I’m glad that stupid fuckin’ place collapsed. All of it was complete bullshit. I just wish it all fell apart before we did.”

Ryan doesn’t know how to respond. So he doesn’t.

“All those meetings I had to stay late for? Fuckin’ useless. They served no purpose, and I don't know why I was forced to go to them. I feel like the only reason I had to go to those meetings was because someone was hiding something from me. It was obvious that so many things were kept from us.” Jeremy stops for a second to try to will away the lump rising in his throat. “I thought you were cheating on me. For the longest time. I still don’t know whether you actually were. You were always out on ‘special missions’ and shit.”

The moment Ryan hears Jeremy let out a shaky breath his heart breaks.

“Was it me? Was I not good enough? I promise I tried my hardest to be what you needed. I’m sorry if I wasn’t. All I wanted was the best for you, Ryan. Even now, I just want you to be happy. If you're happier with someone else, then that’s what I want. I don’t blame you, though. I don’t deserve someone like you. You deserve so much better than me. I would do anything for you, Rye. We were together for so long. We did everything together! I thought I was gonna marry you. I was saving up money to get a ring. I guess I was too stupid to see that you didn’t want me anymore.”

Ryan looks over to see the tears staining Jeremy’s cheeks reflecting the soft orange glow of the streetlamps. Is this really what Jeremy thinks?

“I was so in love with you, Ryan Haywood. I’m- I’m still in love with you. I love you so goddamn much it hurts sometimes. Every time I see you hurt, upset, angry, anything other than healthy and happy my heart aches. I’m sorry I wasn't enough. I promise I tried. Fuck, I tried so hard.”

With every sob Jeremy lets out, Ryan's heart breaks just a little bit more. The short distance left until Ryan pulls up to Jeremy’s apartment building is spent wordlessly. Jeremy’s clambering out of the car and reaching to grab the door when Ryan speaks.

“Hey, Jer, do you want me to walk you up? I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve already been a pain in your ass tonight, I don't need to waste even more of your time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.” Jeremy sniffles and wipes his cheeks, giving a half-hearted smile before shutting the door and walking away.

Ryan sits there for a second, unable to process fully what he just heard. He starts driving without even knowing where he was going, and he’s so lost in his thoughts that suddenly he’s sitting in his car in front of the boardwalk along the beach and crying. He can’t believe anything he was just told—there is no way in hell that the brilliant, witty, talented Jeremy Dooley ever doubts his worth. It’s jarring to think that part of it was because of Ryan. He was going on extra missions because the agency was growing more and more demanding. For months they tormented Ryan with the threat of kicking out Jeremy. They said they’d do other things to him that Ryan doesn’t want to remember. Why did Jeremy never bring it up? Why did he just accept that Ryan had ‘moved on?’ Their lives were so intertwined with one another that Ryan never felt truly whole again. The only reason Ryan went with the break up was that he saw how distant and cold Jeremy had gotten. Ryan had assumed that, for whatever reason, Jeremy had changed his mind. He hated it, he was devastated, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Ryan decides he doesn’t want to go back to the penthouse tonight. He pulls up to the nearest crew safehouse, and suddenly things click.

Jeremy had always struggled with bad self-image and depression. He had gone to Ryan for comfort, which he was always more than willing to give. Jeremy was doing better. At least he told Ryan he was.

Jack had mentioned a while ago that when Jeremy first joined the crew, she had found him after a suicide attempt and barely left his side until he recovered. The only reason for it Jack had told Ryan about was ‘emotional trauma from a past relationship, that he didn’t really want to talk about.’

Ryan did that to him.

Ryan did that to him.

Ryan made the love of his life want to die.

The pieces left of his heart fall into more shards than there are grains of sand in this world.

He collapses onto the couch inside, too exhausted to even get to the bed. He knows he’s not going to be able to sleep, though.

To: Geoff

Dropped Jeremy off at his place, he was pretty drunk though so check on him please

To: Geoff

I’m staying at kung fu safehouse for the night

[ma-gic-gay]

"What the fuck?" Michael asks, voice at a dangerous level. He startles them and they pull apart. "You two promised me you're not in a relationship, so what do you call this?"

They've been caught.

Shit.

"Kissing," Carly answers quickly, half lying and half telling the truth. "We're not dating."

"Then please explain to me what this is, Mom," he asks. "You too, Jason."

"Explain what?" Joss asks, walking into the room.

"They kissed."

"Avery owes me 5 bucks now," the blonde smiles. "I can buy a coffee with that money."

"Great, a free coffee. Are you at all having an emotional reaction to Mom and Jason kissing?" Michael asks his sister, who's ignoring him.

"Not my business who Mom and Jason kiss," she responds calmly.

When did she get so grown up? She had her "child of the corn" years a few years ago, but now she's an adult and not freaking out over this? His goddaughter's all grown up. One hell of a way to make you feel old.

"I can't believe you're so calm about this, Joss! They lied to us!"

"Did they? They said they weren't dating. First off, that's a present tense which could've changed, and they didn't say anything about kissing in hospitals," she says, confused.

"Here's that first aid kit for Jason, Carly," Elizabeth says, entering the tense room and handing it to the traumatized woman in the hospital bed. "Do you two need something?"

"My mother to figure out what the hell she feels for Jason Morgan," Michael answers bitterly.

"I'm not going to ask."

"They kissed! And they did it yesterday!" Michael exclaims, emotions getting the best of him before he can remember his tact.

Everyone's shocked he screamed that, Elizabeth especially. "Well. Um, I'm gonna head out. You guys enjoy... Whatever this is."

That's one way for it to come out.

"It's out in the open now," Carly chuckles, opening up the first aid kit and pulling out the bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and Neosporin.

"Mom, what are you doing with his hand?"

"He punched a wall so I'm cleaning up the cuts."

"Why'd you do that?"

"People were gossipping about your mother and what happened to her tonight. It pissed me off and I ended up punching a wall."

"By the looks of it you broke the wall."

"Nah, just a few scratches," Jason tells him before the stinging sensation of the hydrogen peroxide is on his hand. Not exactly a pleasant one.

"Well, are you okay?"

"Besides the fact your mother is stinging me with this stuff, I'm fine."

"Good. What happened to you tonight, Mom?" Michael asks gingerly.

Suddenly, the tension in the air amplifies by 50 if that's even possible. There's a good minute and a half where it's just an awkward silence before Carly answers him, filling the time with applying bandaids to his wounds, "Cyrus took me from the Metro Court. Well, one of his goons. But the goon took me to the Floating Rib, that little room above the bar. Somehow he knew the importance of that place to me and I was kidnapped. He raped me. I also got pretty beat up when I was resisting. Just when I was sure I'd never leave that room, Jason came in and saved me. Cyrus is in police custody right now and there's no way in hell he's getting off."

"He always saves all of us," Joss smiles at him. "Thanks."

"Anytime. I'll always save you guys, you know that," Jason returns her smile and sees one appear on Michael's face as well, though he's half ready to kill someone. It always happens when someone brings up rape, Michael gets distant and mad. Probably because of his own experience with it.

It's a good thing Cyrus is in police custody because if he wasn't, Jason has a feeling that he'd end up helping them cover up a murder.

"Mom, I'm so sorry you had to go through it. Cyrus is a sick bastard. You know that I'll be able to pull some strings and all of the Quartermaine's will testify in your behalf if you need to go to trial," Michael offers.

"Thanks, but I'm hoping he'll plead guilty and I won't have to sit through a trial."

"Well, if you do, you've got the best lawyer in the state on your side and all of us," Joss says, "besides, there's a bunch of evidence he did it. And everyone knows Jason's practically incapable of lying, so he'll be a great witness!"

"You, on the other hand, are a good liar, Joss," Michael counters.

"The law doesn't know that, Michael."

"I better never get a call I have to bail you out of jail."

"I'll call Cam or Trina. You'll be last on the list of people I'd call to bail me out, trust me," she playfully reassures her brother.

"Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"You pick."

"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Corinthos cannot have visitors anymore," Epiphany tells them, interrupting the group gathering.

Sadly, her kids say goodbye to her, promising to visit in the morning. Jason, however, doesn't leave his chair. "Mr. Morgan, did you hear me? No more visitors. Visiting hours are over."

"I'm family."

"So are her children. They don't get to stay the night, neither do you."

"I need him to stay. When I sleep, I keep having nightmares- screaming, terrifying nightmares, and he's the only one who can get me back to sleep. Come on, Epiphany, you know we always spend the night in each other's hospital rooms," Carly attempts to bargain with the nurse.

"And if this were normal circumstances, I would allow it."

"What about this isn't normal circumstances?" Jason asks.

"Well, first off, Michael told Elizabeth about your... Activity. And second, this is a police investigation too. Hospital policy says that he can't stay the night."

"Oh my god," Carly scoffs, "because my son discussed something with us that Lizzie overheard and then spread to the whole town by now, he can't spend the night? Epiphany, I've given myself panic attacks with these nightmares already and he's been here! He's the only person who can calm me down and I know how important rest is for recovery. Besides, it's not like we have no self control. I would never have sex in a hospital."

Epiphany cocks an eyebrow at Jason, who innocently raises his hands. "You know me better than that."

Carly starts laughing at him being stared down by Epiphany, who he simply stated blankly at back. It's a contest of who's going to back down first, and they all know he'll win. His stubbornness is one personality trait that always comes out in hospitals.

"Fine. But I swear, if you two go at it, there will be hell to pay," Epiphany threatens before leaving, letting Jason stay in there. A win. "And she cannot stay up all night making out with you, she needs her rest. So do you, you look like hell."

"Yes ma'am," they answer and she shakes her head before closing the door.

"I feel like I'm in high school again," Carly jokes.

"No clue what that's like."

"Hell, if you're me. You, though, I bet you were that one kid all the teachers loved and the students too. A golden boy. I'm convinced you would've hated me in high school."

"Well, I wouldn't have remembered it anyways," he reminds her.

"Nah, I'm unforgettable," she says, a smirk playing on her lips. "Even with an amnesia causing coma."

"That's not how it-" he gets cut off by her kissing him again.

This is becoming more and more normal and that scares him. He's comfortable in his reality and, as usual, she's ready to bring Hurricane Carly into his life and break his equilibrium.

Well, that and the thought she could make another of those lists. The list scares him more than breaking this state of equilibrium.

"We promised Epiphany we wouldn't do this," he reminds her when they break apart.

"No, we promised her I'd rest and that we wouldn't stay up all night kissing or have sex," Carly corrects.

"Yes, you need your rest, Carly. Please, try to sleep," he urges.

"I'm offended!"

"Carly-"

"You have a guy telling you you're wrong and shut him up and now you've got to sleep. God how times have changed."

"No, it's not that. You, however, need your sleep. Besides, if you have a nightmare, I promise you can kiss me again," he finds himself saying.

Well. That part was unexpected. He really needs a reevaluation of feelings for her.

"Well, if his Royal Highness-"

"I'll kiss you if you have a nightmare, alright?" Jason revises his statement and she smiles.

"Deal."

"Good, you need to rest."

"So do you."

"Just worry about yourself, I'm fine."

"Mhm," she haphazardly agrees, allowing herself to fall back into a slumber while he shifts in the chair he's mastered the ability of sleeping in over the years.

To be continued later in life when it's not 1:30 am est

go to sleep :)

[crappystraws]

hey you

The first time I saw you we were literally at both ends of the room.

You were sitting up front, I, at the back. You exhumed radiance that commanded the attention of everyone. I was reserved and could never have been bothered with anything by anyone.

It would have been impossible for us to meet halfway because of our prominent traits, and I was fine with it. Like a kid staring at a toy she wanted, I kept admiring you from afar. But one day you came to me.

I wasn't looking for anyone at all but you came to me unexpectedly. You waltzed in my chest and let your light shine on my very being; everything was fine before your arrival but it became better with you in it.

"My sunshine," I called you as that

It's as the song said; you made me happy even when things weren't alright. Knowing that you exist in this world and that you were in my life made me incredibly happy.

You were there for me as I was for you. Giving and taking were roles that we perfected in interchanging. It's like pieces of the puzzle finally coming together.

Until, you realized that the puzzle we're completing isn't the one you wanted to complete at all. Always were you pushing me to be a better version of myself. Always did I underestimate and take them for granted. We were on a completely different pace; one where I kept running, no idea that you have stood still

And before I could even look back, we became distant. Over time, the blazing rays of sun shone weaker than before, colder. Night has started to spread again. I like the night but it's hard not to miss the sun when it's all I've ever known in the past months. I was in denial but the reality is this: my sunshine's disappearing and the sun was nearly set.

Twelve midnight.

Gone was the light I was accustomed to for a year. Gone was the warmth I grew to like. Gone was everything I thought I had wanted to have forever. All that remained, was the cold breeze of the night that was here, when I haven't met you yet, when I refuse to let any light in, content on the life under the litter of stars.

Seven months later, I gradually became accustomed, once again, to this light-less life. The dark keeps embracing me with such coldness, but I find that I don't mind. It's in this night that I have found peace. It's in this void that I have found myself again. I guess now I understand that I wasn't made for that light. That I was a child of the moon. And the moonchildren don't belong to sunshines, they belong to themselves, among the ones who understand it.

[fairycosmos]

Hi there, so I've been following you for quite some time now and I think you give great advices so, if you have time to kill could you help me out a bit? Basically I've been in love with this guy for over a year and we finally started dating a few weeks ago but it's my first real relationship (I'm 19 btw) and I really struggle with showing him my emotions, I don't text him or call him because I'm really scared of being too much. I don't want to him to think that idc, I love him idk what to do

hey, don’t worry about it. it’s only been a few weeks, and if you’re emotionally closed off then it’s going to take a lot of time and effort before you feel ready to open up, which is totally okay. as long as you’re making the effort to communicate with him to the best of your ability, then you’re doing fine. it’s just about getting into the groove of existing with someone else in a way that makes you both comfortable. i’m distant and closed off too, so i totally get what you mean. you’re definitely not alone n a lot of people can relate to what you’re going through. i think you should try your best to explain to him that you’re struggling, that it’s not his fault and that if he’s patient with you then you’ll be able to show him your emotions more in time. as long as you’re honest w him about what’s going on, you’ll both be able to handle it. he obviously cares about you a lot and i promise he’s not going to judge you for it, dude. we all have quirks and issues and problems, it’s just the way things are. you’ve been in love w him for a year so it’s natural to be a little worried about ruining such a good thing, but don’t let that fear actually manifest itself into reality. and anyway, your first relationship is bound to feel sort of weird and different in the beginning, you know? just try to keep reminding yourself that he’s your boyfriend, that he WANTS to hear from you. start with trying to text him first. hitting him up every few days is not ‘too much’ and he’s definitely not going to see it that way. remember, your perception is clouded by anxiety and overthinking, so try not to let those negatives thoughts impact the actuality of things too much. every small step you make towards opening up is an accomplishment, something to be really proud of. i get that it’s scary, and it’s odd to trust someone else with your own heart, but if you do it bit by bit it won’t feel as daunting. when it comes down to it, you don’t know how this is going to turn out so why bother worrying about it? just take it one step at a time, and deal with any issues that arise (if any) as they come. it’ll be alright, and you’ll learn to share your soul with him more and more over time, once you’ve really realized you can trust him. i’m going to leave a few links that offer additional advice n support, check them out if you think they’d help :) i hope you’re ok n i’m always here if you need a friend or someone to talk to. message me anytime.

https://greatist.com/live/emotional-unavailability

https://www.bustle.com/articles/128557-6-ways-to-be-more-open-with-your-partner

https://www.relate.org.uk/relationship-help/help

http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/news/a36449/ask-logan-uncomfortable-opening-up-about-my-feelings/

relationships/making-your-relationship-stronger/learning-trust-new-relationship

https://www.powerofpositivity.com/10-ways-to-build-trust-in-a-relationship/

https://tinybuddha.com/blog/emotionally-closed-off-healing-pain-and-learning-to-love/