#maybe I should still reply to that girl who gave me depression but her and the sister were quite into me

[dreamyberry]

/3.11.24

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Baby Blues || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by @fireandbloodsource DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: In which a 15 year old Leyla Hightower experiences postpartum depression and all of the Red Keep and Daemon himself, feel the wrath of it. (head-canon to second choice)

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

warning: oc is 15 when she gives birth

The babe’s cries was all the could be heard inside the birthing chamber. The handmaidens all gushed at the baby as they cleaned her up. Leyla laid there motionless. She had never experienced so much pain in all of her years.

Her head slowly turned to the door to which Daemon entered with a smile plastered on his face. He immediately moved to the bed where his Lady wife laid and kissed her forehead, “You did such a good job, ñuha ābrazȳrys” He whispered as Leyla only gave a tight lipped smile (my wife)

She watched as he moved away from her and to their daughter who they already found a name, Alyssa. All the noises around the room had become muffled to the young Hightower and she didn’t even realise that Daemon was talking to her.

“Leyla? I asked if you want to hold her” He cradled the little girl in his arms. She didn’t want to in all honesty. She felt so incredibly exhausted and her body still ached from delivering her child mere minutes ago.

“Okay” She whispered before Daemon laid the babe on her chest to which she groaned. “Why isn’t she properly cleaned” The young girl quipped , her head turned to the handmaidens who quickly apologised and scooped her up to clean her properly.

Watching the whole ordeal, Daemon held Leyla’s hand. “How are you feeling? I imagine the labour was not easy?” He attempted to comfort her but Leyla stared off into the distance, not replying to him.

The prince moved form the bed to a handmaiden, “Did anything happen during the labour?” He questioned as he stared at his Lady Wife. “No your Grace, everything went normal” She replied before curtsying and walking away.

~

Leyla walked alongside her Husband, a 2 month old Alyssa in her arms. The two walked into Godswood where there was a celebration held for her sister’s pregnancy.

Whispers could be heard around as they stared at the young Hightower. Daemon too felt the tense atmosphere as he rested his hand on the curve of Leyla’s back. Her face was cold and expressionless.

The past 2 months Leyla had been acting incredibly off. Everyone could notice it people around the Keep would constantly gossip and whisper about it. Maybe it was the fact that she was only 15, and yet she already has child to the Rogue Prince himself.

“If you wish to talk about me, at least talk to my face about it” Leyla’s cold words stunned the group of highborn ladies as they look down to the ground; Daemon too glares at the group who were gossiping about his Lady Wife.

She continued walking to her father, King Viserys, and her sister who saw the ordeal. “Sister, how are you” Alicent gives a warm smile to the younger as she hugs her, cautious of the baby in her arms. “The same as always, sister” Leyla deadpanned before turning to greet the King and her father.

Alicent looks to Daemon with a sad expression as he sighs. Leyla beckons for the wet nurse who quickly took the child out of her arms. She couldn’t even find it in herself to look at her daughter as she was taken away.

Both Daemon and Leyla were taken around to different conversations and the whole time, she would stare down at her cup and not utter a word. “Should we go retire to your solar?” The silver haired men says lowly against her head as she nods, Daemon knew she wanted rest, she didn’t even want to be here but she didn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings by not showing up.

Leyla let out a loud sigh once she sat down. Daemon sat at the chair opposite and busied himself with a book. The wet nurse placed Alyssa back in her mothers arms. Soon after she immediately started crying as Leyla rocked her to try to stop her loud wails but to no avail, the Targaryen babe continued.

Daemon rubbed his temples as he watched his Lady Wife attempting to calm down their daughter. “Hasn’t she already been fed and changed?” Leyla looked to the wet nurse who looked nervous but nonetheless nodded.

“Then why does she keep crying?!” She muttered annoyed at her baby. “Take her, she’s driving me insane” The young Hightower stood up, ready to give Alyssa back to the wet nurse. “Alyssa is not going to be comforted by the wet nurse but by you Leyla” Daemon sternly spoke, his eyes not leaving the book.

Both the wet nurse and Leyla look at Daemon, Alyssa’s cries intensifying by the minute. “I am already exhausted as it is Daemon-“ “Your her mother, you should be able to soothe your own child, am I wrong?” Daemon finally looks up.

Leyla was baffled, she opened her mouth and closed it soon after. She felt like bawling her eyes out too. “Please, please, please Alyssa stop crying.” Her voice cracked as she patted the babe’s back and walked around her solar desperately trying to calm down her daughter.

The wet nurse and Daemon watch her as tears fall down Leyla’s eyes, Alyssa had still not stopped crying. Daemon stood up and walked over to Leyla and took their daughter from her arms.

He calmed her down in an instant as Leyla sat down, her hand massaging her forehead. The wet nurse took the baby from Daemon so that he could comfort his Lady Wife.

He said nothing as he moved her head against her chest as she sobbed. “I am so exhausted Daemon, Alyssa- she’s-she’s so much work and its draining me” She quietly spoke as Daemon did nothing but listen to her troubles and stroke her back soothingly.

“I am no cut out to be a mother-“ The door to her solar opened loudly and startled the girl. Quickly sitting up and wiping the remainder of her tears, Daemon rolled his eyes and leaned back on the chair, oh how he hated seeing his face around. If he wasn’t his wife’s father, Daemon would have slit his throat ages ago.

Otto first looked at the wet nurse who was rocking his granddaughter in her arms before looking at Leyla. With a stern voice he orders the wet nurse to leave, and then Daemon. “If you think I’m leaving my wife in the presence of her cunt of a father, your wrong” He chuckles as Otto’s lips part in disbelief.

“You think I’d harm my own flesh and blood, my Prince?” He raises an eyebrow at the silver haired man. With a shrug of his shoulders, Daemon looks at Leyla who’s gaze is on her hands as she picks at her nails. He holds her hand to stop her from harming herself before looming up at Otto.

“You’ve harmed her enough by arranging this marriage. Now, you either speak to her whilst I’m here or you don’t speak to her at all” Otto scoffs shaking his head before taking a seat opposite the two. “Daemon. It’s okay” Leyla finally looks up to him.

He lets out a breathe, “I’m not leaving this room,” He says before standing up and making his way to the bookshelf. The two Hightower’s watch the Prince before their attention go back to each other.

“There has been talk around the Red Keep that you have been acting differently,” He starts off, “And do you believe them? They’re just talk father, they know nothing” Leyla scoffs in disbelief. The fact that he assumes the talk is true without even consulting with his own daughter about it was sad.

“I don’t have to believe them Leyla, I have seen it myself,” Otto stares into his daughter’s soul as she gulps. His comment made Daemon look to the two. “It’s not difficult to notice how ignorant you are to your own child. Gods, you walk around the place like a ghost Leyla!” He half shouts.

Daemon makes his presence known as he takes a seat near the two of them. Leyla glances at him before looking at her father again, “Father I’ve just been tired and she’s alot of work!-“ “Don’t act as if you take care of the child. Your wet nurse and maids do.”

Daemon chuckles, “She takes better care of her own child than you ever did when Leyla’s mother died” He butts in. Ignoring the Prince’s comment Otto continues, “People are saying you are incapable of being a mother-“ “Because I am!” Leyla yells, leaning forward in her seat as tears start rolling down her face again.

Daemon shifts in his seat as he leans over and rubs her arm. Otto looks taken aback, he was not expecting that answer from her daughter. “Oh please father,” She chokes back a chuckle, “Don’t act as if you’re surprised. I’m 15 for gods sake! Of course I’m incapable of looking after another human being, what did you expect?” Leyla spat in anger.

All her pent up emotions building up from the past 2 months were finally spilling out. “You act as if it is my fault for your ill-manner behaviour towards your own flesh and flood!” Otto points to her. “If it wasn’t for your pressure of producing heirs for Daemon and this marriage, I wouldn’t be in this situation” Leyla spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence filled the room. “I think it’s best you leave, Otto” Daemon stands up and looks down at him. The man scoffs and gives one final look to his daughter before leaving the room.

[casperslibrary]

{Finnick Odair x Reader} To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim- CHAPTER FIVE - Finnicks POV

[After losing her sister to the games and her father to the ocean, her best friend (and supposed love of her life) Emery saves her. Now, as they go into the hunger games together, she is determined to do whatever it takes to save him. But when her mentor ends up being a man she has learnt to hate, she can't help but be frustrated, especially when she realises how little she really hates him, and how much she actually needs him.]

A/N: there may be minor inaccuracies throughout the story as it’s been a hot minute since i’ve read the hunger games. Anyways I had more fun writing Finnick's POV than expected, though if you couldn’t tell it was quite hard to leave the MC nameless and lacking any distinct physical attributes. Also I’m sorry that all of the povs are in first person- but it's easier dialogue wise when trying to make the mc lack a name. Btw I plan on making a masterlist when I have the time + once I get my Ao3 invitation I’ll also upload my fic on there! I need filler chapters so my inbox is always open for suggestions! Anyways this chapter superrrrrr long lmao

chapter four | all chapters

WARNINGS: MINOR CHARACTER DEATH | MENTIONS OF SEX TRAFFICKING | MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE | SEXUAL THEMES | DEPRESSION | RUDE LANGUAGE | HEAVY THEMES  | FINNICK PINES A LOT

[Finnick POV]

As the tributes ride the chariots I am driven to the training centre. Inside the car is a screen showing the parade.

“Our tributes look so good this year, don’t you think? Dara is so much better than who we used to have, you know the man whose only idea of style is being naked?” Sona says to me, and I nod in reply. Cornelia’s sister, who is known to me as Bugs due to Cornelia’s constant use of the nickname, smiles and waves with one hand and holds Emery with the other. As beautiful as she looks, the moment was tainted by her hand in Emery’s. I try not to think about it, instead focusing on her face, her smile, which suddenly falters. Turning her head she finds comfort in Emery. I frown, admittedly, I was jealous. After hearing Cornelia talk about her so much, it was hard for me to not think highly of her. And after I stuck to the promise of keeping an eye out on Bugs, I couldn’t help but start to notice things about her, things I never bothered to notice about anyone. The way she always stood her ground, and didn’t let anyone sway her. How she always stood up for the weak in school, even getting into a few fights with bullies. I chuckle as I remember her throwing a rock at Kim Lain. He was a dick - he deserved it. I noticed how strong she was, but also how caring, when she was thirteen she gave her lunch to a frail, younger girl who obviously hadn’t eaten in days, and started packing extra food for her everyday after that. I remember even the small things about Bugs, how she covers her mouth when laughing at things she probably shouldn’t laugh at. How she touches her hair when uncomfortable, or plays with her shirt while she’s waiting for the time to pass. 

I should have gone up and talked to her earlier, I wish I did. Maybe if I had told her it was me who saved her life when she was fourteen we would have gotten closer, and she wouldn’t have been so eager to risk her life when Emery’s name was called. But I didn’t, I had only started selling my body just a few months earlier, and the last thing I needed was another person for Snow to threaten everytime I dared to diverge out of line. So I bit my tongue, watched her from afar, did my best to protect her just as promised, and look where that got us. For fuck sakes I even slept with a worker to keep her name out of the bowl, and she still managed to end up being a tribute.

I briefly consider trying to convince the game makers to kill off Emery, that way she’ll have to at least try to win, but I know I could never do that. I groan and Sona gives me a confused look, but I pay her no mind. She puts a hand up to my shoulder, though I immediately recoil. Sona says no words as she moves her hand away, knowing the cause for my discomfort. She may have been very illusioned by her upbringing in the Capitol, but even she has the heart to know rape is wrong. Sona has a kind soul, and I can imagine in a world where there were no games, no propaganda, she and I could really be close friends. But right now, we don’t exactly see eye to eye on the whole ‘radical take’ that killing children is wrong. But I know that someday she’ll see it. Every year her excitement for the games gets more and more dull, every year her voice gets dimmer reading the names of the children that are to die. One day she will completely learn to hate the games; but I don't know if I want that for her. She’s already in too deep to leave. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

We get out of the car and enter the training centre, there aren’t any screens in the room we’re in, and I can’t help but be nervous with her out of my sight. I know it’s irrational; being a tribute is probably the safest position to be in up until you’re actually put in the arena, god forbid anything happens to the capital's precious props. But still, my nerves immediately calm down once I see her enter through the grand doors. Sona helps Bugs from the chariot before instantly pulling her into a hug, and I can’t help but laugh at the face she makes. After being released from Sona’s death grip, she turns to look at Emery, and I almost hate myself for the anger that begins to burn. A part of me wishes the roles were reversed, that I was the one she looked at with love and Emery was the one she looked at with spite. I knew she didn’t like me, and while it didn’t take a genius to figure out why, it still hurt. I really tried to make her at least warm up to me, I flirted with her and smiled at her in a way that made other girls melt. But alas, all it seemed to do was irritate her further, out of all the people to be resistant to my charm… Why her?

Her gaze on Emery doesn’t waver, and I can’t stop myself from standing in between them, forcing her to look at me and not him. Realising I need a reason for walking up, I simply congratulate her.

“Good job, princess.”

I know I should probably comment on Emery as well, but I can’t find it in me to care about anyone else. Not when she is standing right here.

We enter the crystal elevator and I can tell that Bugs is star-struck by the view. While I have gotten used to the ride, I think back to the first time I was here, and chuckle as I realise that her sister did the exact same thing. Of course, her sister never even came close to captivating my attention as much as she does. Sona makes some stupid comment on pearls, one that seemed awfully familiar, and Bugs laughs when I tell her the connection.

She laughed.

I told her something, and not only did it not aggravate her, but it actually made her laugh.

Before, the best expression she would give me was a glare, or an eye roll, and even then I was still hooked. But now, I know what it’s like to bring her joy, and holy shit it's addicting.

Fuck, if I wasn’t in deep before, I certainly am now.  

Entering our floor, Bugs quickly goes to her room but Emery hangs around. He shoots me a look, and, as little as I am in the mood for it, I put on my fake face; feigning a calm, unaffected composure. 

“Yes, Em?” I purposefully use the nickname Bugs calls him. Apparently that was the wrong move.

“She doesn’t need you, you know. She has me.” Insecure much? Although I couldn’t really blame him, it was only moments ago that I felt the euphoria of her joy being directed towards me. If I had constant access to it, I wouldn’t be so quick to let it go either. 

“Quite the contrary actually, you need her. She knows it as well considering that was the whole reason she volunteered. Now if I were you, I would consider not picking a fight with me, since we both know that I am the only source of help either of you are going to get in these games.” I walk off, but couldn’t help adding one last comment as I do so. “And by the way, she does need me. That’s how mentoring in these games works.”

I added almost gleefully on the end, the notion of her needing me brought me far greater joy than it should have. Though, in any other circumstances maybe I’d be able to appreciate it more without the sinking feeling of guilt, and more so, the dread of what's to come in these next few weeks. 

Emery huffs past me and I retreat to my room. Quite a familiar one at that, when I am brought to the capital throughout the year this tends to be where I stay. Though in all my time staying here, I have never found myself leaving and slowly drifting towards the quarters for the female tribute. But when I hear screaming, you wouldn’t exactly call the way I moved slow. I run so fast I knock over a decorative plant right outside, though as I am about to barge through the door I stop when I hear what they’re yelling about. Me.

Suddenly feeling the sinful urge to eavesdrop, I hope that Bugs didn’t hear the vase fall.  Though it appears she doesn’t, as she continues what she’s saying without faltering.

“I’m sorry Em… Finnick… he means nothing to me. I do admit I don’t feel as much hatred as I once did for him, but still, I am with you. Forever and always.”

Nothing? Ouch. That one hurt - much more than it should have. There is a whisper I can’t make out before Emery starts speaking.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that… I just can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

There is a pause before he continues.

“Remember when Finnick won the 65th? How you went on an endless spiral about how it should have been him that was killed and not your sister… I agree with what you said, your sister should have won.”

A knife is shot through my chest. Actually, coming from someone who has been stabbed, it’s worse than that. In fact I’d rather be back in the arena right now than be here listening to this unendurable conversation. But as much as I try, my legs can’t seem to move.

“Do you think so?” Emery says.

“Yes. Finnick should have died, my sister should have lived.”

.

.

.

I don’t know why it hurts so bad… it shouldn’t hurt this bad. Loads of people have wanted me dead, it was only four years ago when I was put in an arena with twenty-three of them. But hearing this come from her… the girl I care about far too much, the only girl whom I can find it in me to care about… only person for that matter… It's far too much to bear. My knees hit the floor and I sit against the wall for God knows how long. Hours maybe. 

Replaying all the memories I have of her over these past few years, I try to find something - anything - that might make me like her less. That could take away this unbearable pain caused by something so small as her words.

Nothing.

There is not one single fucking thing that I do not simply adore about her.

I am only pulled out of my thoughts when Emery opens the door. Quickly trying to come up with an explanation as to what I am doing outside of Bugs room I look up to his face and realise;

He’s not surprised… he knew I was out there this whole time. Bugs may not have heard me knock over that vase but he did. The fucker knew. Emery walks past me saying nothing, but with his smug expression he didn’t need to. That’s why he reminded her of why she hates me… to make sure she doesn’t stop. That’s why he asked her if she still wishes I were dead; to make sure I know that her heart will always belong to him, and never me.

I’ve got to admit, what Emery lacks in physical strength he sure makes up for in manipulative skills. Wasn’t he supposed to be nice? Kind hearted? I suppose the games do affect all of us in the worst ways, especially when someone you love is on the line.

Though whatever the reason for making her say what she did, didn’t change how much her words hurt. Emery was right. He will always be the boy she needs, and I will always be the boy she hates. It killed me to know this, and it killed me to know that even with this knowledge, my feelings for her could never leave. Even after she dies in these games, my heart will still be with her long after she’s gone. Not with me, not with any of my numerous admirers, with her, in her grave.

Slowly, I force myself to get up, and in my room I am almost grateful to hear the phone ring, its shrill noise drowning out my thoughts. Though I quickly realise there is only one person who could be calling this time of night.

“Hello Snow.” I whisper into the landline, trying my best to not show any pain in my voice. Although I am only half paying attention to him as he speaks, my stomach still drops at his words. Tomorrow night I am to meet with a frequenter. He almost makes it out as him doing me a favour. That because it would be so late that none of my mentees would see me leave, and because this particular customer is a valuable sponsor, I should be grateful for him setting this nightmare. I can barely hide the venom on my tongue as I respond to him before hanging up. He is… somewhat right though, this specific guest is in fact a very rich and (if under the right circumstances) very generous sponsor. The fact that this arrangement will benefit Bugs makes me feel a bit better, but only barely. 

Grabbing a rope I head into the lounge area where I pour myself a glass of whiskey. I alternate between drinking the neat drink and creating knots in the rope. Though while this usually efficient routine of tying knots helped me forget about what was coming tomorrow, it barely distracted me from my thoughts about Bugs. And after about an hour of this, whatever cruel deity that controlled our reality decided to take it further by presenting me with all that I want, but can’t have, in the flesh. Hearing a step I turn around to see her staring at me, my beautiful curse as perfect as ever.

“Hey princess.” I try to sound lighthearted, but fail miserably. Bugs doesn’t move, but needing her closer, I motion her to sit next to me.

“I don’t bite.” She obviously is still put off by my presence, I try to come up with a way to calm her, and think back to her excitement of the city view in the clear elevator.

“Actually, I know a better place to go to.” I get up and offer her my hand, and when she gives me hers a fire rushes through me that cannot be extinguished. Now I understand why girls get almost delirious when I get close to them, I think I could pass out at any moment. 

I take her to the elevator, and up the stairs, not letting her go for even a second, as if the moment my hand leaves hers it will never find its way back. It pains me to know this is probably true. But when Bug's hand finally escapes my firm grasp, she makes up for it with the expression on her face. As I stare at her face, dazed by the scenery, I can’t help but think back to her sister doing the exact same thing years ago. Though in all honesty I appreciate the look of joy far more on Bugs face.

The wind starts to pick up, and she shivers. I take in her satin pajamas, they are quite skimpy, surely not able to give her any resistance against the cool of the night. Holding out my sweater, I offer it to her.

“Here.”

“Aren’t you going to be cold?”

I smile and slightly shake my head. Being cold can not even be considered a price to pay for her being comfortable, and besides, her satin shirt is extremely low cut and I feel guilty for looking, the sweater will at least provide some coverage.

“Just take it”

Okay… so maybe I misjudged the idea of more clothing preventing my sinful thoughts. Because as she wears my sweater, I find myself only more turned on. I try to keep my expression neutral as she thanks me - however I'm honestly lucky to not be quite literally drooling at the mouth right now. Though I try my best to push those thoughts away, to be thinking this way of her when she so clearly does not like me… how could I ever consider myself better than my capital admirers? 

Bugs stares at the city lights, and they radiate back onto her perfect face. God I could spend the rest of my life like this, just staring at her, but the voice that’s been taunting me since the moment she was reaped speaks up even louder. ‘This will be one of the last times you get to look at her, before she dies, before she voluntarily kills herself.’ 

I feel my legs start to shake again, my hands as well. I quickly regret leaving my rope in the lounge area. I can’t let her die, I would rather go into the games myself than let her go. There's got to be some way to change her mind? I won’t stop trying to save her, I can’t. I could imagine that even when her heart stops beating I’ll still be fighting for her life. The possibility of her dying, it just seems so unreal to me, it’s a thought so horrid I cannot even process it. 

“Are you really planning on just killing yourself?” But once that question leaves my mouth I quickly talk again because even though I know the answer, I don’t think I can handle it.

“You shouldn’t have volunteered.” 

“Thank you for the great suggestion, Sherlock, do you also have a time machine on you by any chance? Or just your insightful words?” 

I laugh and shake my head, the spite in her voice is one I’m used to, and I’m almost unphased by it. But then I remember why she hates me so much. Her sister. If I could bring Cornelia up, explain to Bugs the reason why I first fought for her in the first place, before I fell for her, maybe she’d change her mind? If not for me then for her sister.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean she told me to protect you, and you sure are making it a hard job.” 

“Who did?”

“Your sister, of course.”

Her confusion is evident, so I continue. Thinking back to this night four years ago as I do.

“Four years ago, her and I were on this exact same roof. All she did was speak of you - I think it must have hurt too much to talk about anything else - anyways she made me promise that if I got out and not her, I would protect you.” I still remember Cornelia’s voice as if it were yesterday.

“I know you’ll win, Finnick, and I am okay with that. Just please promise me one thing, when you get back, protect Bugs. She is so brave, so strong, so kind, and I know that when you meet her you’ll feel the same. My sister is my everything, so promise, just promise me, you’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“Of course I tried my best, when you somehow managed to almost kill yourself, I pulled you out of the water. When you were too scared of swimming to even touch a fishing boat, I… convinced Julia to allow you to only work on land.”

Thinking back to those moments I start to wonder; at what point did I stop protecting Bugs for Cornelia, and instead started protecting her for my own sake? I remember how much it killed me two years ago to find out Bugs tried to kill herself, so it must have been a while. Still I can picture the moment she jumped off that cliff. Although there was a storm and I could have very likely died pulling her out, I didn’t think twice about jumping in after her, though by the time I grabbed her she had already managed to knock herself out. I was so scared that she managed to successfully kill herself. I pinched her cheek on shore, and went in to a hysteric fit of laughter after she groaned in response, probably due to relief rather than there being any actual humour of it all.

When recounting my list of things I have done for her, I purposefully leave out the part where I slept with a worker to get her name out of the reaping bowl. She probably already thinks I’m a whore, and I don’t want to confirm her suspicions. ‘Tomorrow night, 12 am.’ Snow’s voice rings in my mind, and I so desperately want to get it off my chest. Part of me is so ashamed, so scared of what she’ll think of me, but another part of me just wants to let her know that I’m not the slut she thinks I am, at least not willingly. That I don’t want to sleep with the capital girls, or boys for that matter. I know what other people in my district say about me, and I need to show her that they’re wrong. I’m not the person they think I am. The person that she thinks I am.

“I know you hate me, Bugs, and you probably think I’m a whore. I can’t do anything about the hating part but I’m not… a whore. At least not a willing one.”

The words start to spill out before I can stop myself.

“Snow forced me, when a victor is considered desirable, he sells them for their bodies. I don’t get money for my time, I don’t need it, but I do get secrets, sponsorships, favors.”

Bugs stares at me for a second, the shock speaks for itself. Fuck she must think I’m some weak loser. That I won the hunger games with my face and now I open my legs for anybo-

She’s hugging me.

She’s hugging me.

That familiar fire burns through and only brightens when I hug her back. Suddenly, just by holding her, everything is okay. I know nothing has actually gotten better, but just being here, with her, she makes it better. I hold onto her as though if I cling on tight enough, she won’t have to leave, she won’t have to go into the games, I won’t have to lose her. I don’t think of what's to come, I can’t think of it. I can’t lose her. I won’t. I may be selfish, but I won’t let it happen. Bugs is staying alive.

“I’m sorry.” I can barely hear her murmur in my chest, and it all starts pouring out.

“Your sister was brave, you resemble her. I’m sorry she died, I’m sorry I had a part to play in her death. I know you might hate me for it, but please remember I was just a kid, a kid trying to survive. And just because you don’t know my life doesn't make it worth any less.”

And then she does the least expected thing she possibly could have, she starts apologising. I don’t know why, I should be the one apologising to her, begging for her forgiveness and pleading for her to smile at me again, just as she did on the elevator.

“It hurt so much, I was so angry at myself, at everything. Blaming you made it easier. I’m sorry, Finnick.” 

Finnick. This must have been the first time I’ve ever heard her say my name, to my face at least. I look back on earlier, when I called her my curse. She may very well be a curse, giving me the most joy I’ve ever felt all while planning on ripping it away in just a couple of weeks. But I don’t care anymore, whatever pain has been caused by her, her wanting me dead, trying to drown herself, loving another man, planning to die in the arena. It all hurts so bad, but it is nothing compared to how much I care about her, how much her simple presence lights up my life and turns my world upside down in all the right ways. Fuck, I must be a masochist for this, but I wouldn’t trade her, or any emotions that caused by her, for the world. And as Bugs whispers my name, I almost automatically say hers in return, her real name.

I am not letting you die.

[ssirenaamae]

HER| Park Jimin 박 지민

Based on the song “HER” by Chase Atlantic

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Chapter one

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"Sometimes, I wish you were a man, Kyung-Mi," Chung-Ae sighed.

What?

"I'm not even going to question what goes on in your mind at this point, Chung-Ae," I laughed as I continued to wipe one of the tables of the diner.

She tends to say the most random things ever. Her mind sure is something. Not going to lie, I'm kind of jealous.

"I'm serious! Men these days are just pure trash. Sure, there might be good guys out here somewhere—but so far all the ones I've met are just horrible. You have all the great qualities one looks for in a partner!" She whined.

I mean, she does have a point about it being tough to find some good partners these days. I've only been in like two relationships, but they weren't anything memorable or serious. At the same time, I wouldn't even count them as a relationship if they were in middle school though.

I was about to date a few guys back in high school, but they all either were messing with me, or it just didn't work out.

I guess I have terrible luck when it comes to men. Maybe I even have terrible qualities which leads me to still be single today, but Chung-Ae says other ways.

"You do have a point," I huffed.

After cleaning the final table in the diner, I take off my apron and smile in satisfaction. Today sure was a long day at the diner.

"Do you underestand, though?! Kyung-Mi, I don't want to end up alone and miserable. I need a man, and fast!" Chung-Ae complained.

"Honestly speaking—I feel the same way," I finally gave in and threw myself at one of the couches and groaned.

We both looked at each other and frowned. We can't stay in this depressing mood forever.

Who am I kidding, though? We're very pessimistic, so we'll probably keep on torturing ourselves about it.

"We have got to do something about this," Chung-Ae said.

"I think we should just let ourselves go with the flow," I replied.

"What? And leave ourselves single with 30 cats? No, thanks," she scoffed.

God, is she tiring sometimes...

If we keep on speaking about this topic, we'll probably ball our eyes out at this point. To be honest, I'm not really in the mood to wipe Chung-Ae's snot off her face—or listen to a sad playlist together.

"If I buy us dinner, will you shut up about this?"

"No way! I'm not that cheap, love," she huffed proudly.

I rolled my eyes, "Okay, I'm buying us dinner for a whole week. How about that?"

It grew silent for a moment.

"You have got yourself a deal."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"So then I looked this girl in the eye and told her to piss off and—you are not even listening to me!" Chung-Ae screeched.

"Well, you know I zone out a lot. So, technically, it isn't my fault. It's genetics!" I justified.

"What does genetics have to—I can't even believe you're in medical school at this point," she facepalmed.

"I couldn't believe it either at first—trust me," I said.

I remember quite vividly how I had imposter syndrome. I was terribly convinced that they must've had a mix-up with me and another student. It was so stressful. Luckily enough, I managed to do well over the past few years at school.

Medical school is not for the faint-hearted. I probably should've known that before entering. Then again, some people think it's not that bad. I don't know if they're too smart or if I'm just stupid.

Chung-Ae, on the other hand, already graduated and is now working as an interior designer. I, on the other hand, am in my last year in medical school.

"Anyway, how many months do you have left before you officially graduate?" Chung-Ae asked as she munched on her bruschetta.

"3 months. Our graduation ceremony will be done after it in 2 months, "I answered as I was cutting the steak into bite-sized pieces for Chung-ae. She doesn't know how to use a knife that well, so I try to help at times.

"And you wonder why I said I wish you were a man," Chung-Ae mumbled as she watched me cut her steak for her.

"Anyway, you just have five months left?! God, I can't wait for you to work too so we both complain about our coworkers or—"

Chung-Ae started coughing and banged on her chest in an attempt to stop coughing. As I was about to go and help her, same thing with the waiter, she gestured for us a thumbs up. Unknowingly, we both exhaled a huge breath we'd been holding in.

"Miss, are you alright? Was there something in the food?" The waiter nervously asked.

She shook her head, "No, there's nothing with the food. It's all good, thank you."

After the waiter left, I looked at her with my brows raised. She gestured for me to wait a minute as she was drinking water.

"Isn't that your professor right there? Park Mijin was it?" She whisper-shouted.

As I looked in the direction she pointed at, my breath hitched as I saw professor Park with a woman, conversing over something.

Was he on a date?

I gulped, "Yeah, um that's him yeah."

I couldn't help but stare at them as my heart was beating so hard. The way he was smiling at her made my lips twitch.

"Kyung-Mi..." Chung-Ae wiped my face, which confused me as I didn't know that I was crying.

I thanked her and took the tissues from her, attempting to stop the tears from running down my face.

"God, what's wrong with me? Why am I even crying," I laughed, attempting to lighten the mood.

That didn't work though as Chung-Ae held my hands and rubbed them, looking at me sympathetically. We sit in silence like this for a few minutes as the restaurant's atmosphere filled in the quietness.

I can't believe I cried in public. I mean, I know people didn't notice, nor do they care; however, I'm still embarrassed.

If I cry, I usually cry at home or at Chung-Ae's house. I always try to restrain myself in public—though I guess this doesn't apply to what happened right now.

I wish I wasn't so sensitive sometimes.

"I'm sorry. I know you like him a lot," Chung-Ae broke the silence.

"Yeah, well—he's my professor, so it's not like something was going to happen anyway," I sniffled, still looking at the table rather than at her.

"It's his loss anyway," she tried to cheer me up.

I smiled slightly, mouthing a small thank you as I tried to recollect myself.

I know it's so inappropriate to like my teacher, but he has been an important figure in my life since last year. He treated me so well too. I've never been treated with this much care and respect.

He never crossed any boundaries, though. I'm just the idiot who falls for any guy who gives her the slightest attention. Even more of an idiot to fall for my professor.

But can you blame me though? He's smart, sophisticated, mature, gorgeous, kind, sweet, and caring. It's like he's flawless.

If only things were different, then maybe...

"Kyung-Mi, come on, let's go," Chung-As called out to me.

I furrowed my brows, "But, aren't I supposed to pay for dinner?"

"I did, so no worries. You can treat me to dinner later," She smiled.

This girl.

I picked up my bag and began to head out. Before leaving, I couldn't help but stare at them momentarily before I left.

Unbeknownst to me, he managed to catch a glimpse of me before I left.

[sheikahwarriork]

If you wanna play some angst with a modern twist I'd recommend something alike "Recovery of an MMO Junkie": a wholesome anime in which the main character (a woman in her 30s in the original anime) decides to leave their job and enters into videogames to spend their free time... it has themes like depression, job burtout and online friendship... The anime is very wholesome and all the main characters are people in their 30s who are barely starting to date and meet people...

tldr;;;;

Dimitri leaves his job in his 30s because he is serverly burned out and depressed and since he already has a ton of money decides to isolate himself and play videogames all day (Imagine a huge online videogame like genshin impact/FFXIV), he meets a lot of people online and he slowly starts to recover. His character is the how he'd like to present himself or more like acadimitri to other people: preppy, super polite and kind, he meets Byleth's character and they become friends online and offline (without knowing who the other is!).

Imagine Dimitri's character something like pink haired magical girl and Byleth's... pretty much Jeralt (whom Death's she's not done recovering from).

Even if don't like the prompt I'd still recomend the anime to you, it's very wholesome if you like some nice adult romance (in the sense that the protagonists are mature adults not in the R18 sense LOL).

it's been too long since i got this ask (and i'm so sorry about being SO LATE-) but FINALLY i watched this anime so i can properly reply!!

first, thank you so much anon for the recommendiation, i loved the anime a lot! it's silly, it's cute, it's funny, and it's also a bit angsty- just like yuzu likes u.u

(some spoilers about "Recovery of an MMO Junkie" ahead)

i can totally see dimitri as moriko. a depressed modern dima is 100% going to indulge in videogames as an escapism copying method ( :c ).

i could make byleth work in sakurai's role, maybe erasing some of his original shyness (dimitri would work as him too!! but i prefer your original idea <3) and with more straightforwardness, but still! byleth would be super supportive of her online friend, no matter the game they play in 🥺

(also, im sorry but moriko and sakurai are LITERAL SOULMATES??? them being best online buddies in not one but TWO videogames? they finding the other in every universe...... so dimileth coded u.U anon you should know i spent all the anime screaming in delightful :'] )

also, evil of me, but what about sylvain as koiwai? i usually love when sylvain is watching dimileth pining for each other and decides to step in to help them- and it's exactly what koiwai does :'] to make this idea work similar to the in-anime story, maybe i could go like this:

sylvain is dimitri's childhood friend but in adulthood they didn't stay in touch much; meanwhile sylvain and byleth became work collegues. (of course sylvain tried to flirt wit byleth at first, but she quickly made clear she was NOT interested, and eventually they became friends.) after *insert shenanigans that makes byleth and dimitri meet irl*, sylvain meets dimitri again and convince him to go out a bit; this way sylvain notices dimitri is starting to have a crush over byleth so he starts doing his evil dimileth plans (are his eyes deceiving sylvain, or byleth has just smiled for the first time since he met her while talking to dimitri?). "unplanned" dimileth date, leaving them alone together, making dimitri jealous, forcing them to play together so they can discover their online identities? all sylvain's superb mastermind!

(also sorry but kanbe gave me felix vibes lol)

also, i LOVED that moriko and sakurai's characters were switched gender, so i'm totally with you about giving dimitri a madoka-style avatar and byleth a jeralt-like one :'] if i must be honest, the whole "oh nooo irl people cant know i play as a man in game" from moriko ended up tiring me a bit (not that it isnt well done, but it got too long as a "plot issues" imo while it wasnt an issues for anyone xD), but i totally can see dimitri worrying about this same thing, my boy's fav hobby is worrying about meaningless thing; just for byleth to end his gendercrysis issues in a sec (also yes- why not having nonbinary dimitri in the end? 👉👈)

moriko's eternal hunger works best for byleth of course; but it won't stop me from making "dimitri-wants-cheese" jokes uwu

i'm not sure when (or IF c.c) i'll find the time to write a fic with this plot, but anon know you always give me great dimileth ideas and i'm GRATEFUL for that, ily <3

[abbatoirablaze]

Ex Wive's Club, Chapter 13

Word Count:  2.3k

Warnings: sexual tension, sexual situations, angst. 

“God…wh-what am I going to do?”

Curtis frowned, looking at the broken mother who had been sitting on his couch for the past half hour.  She was almost numb as they searched through the bags of her stuff that was intermingled with trash.  She barely reacted to how Andy had mixed actual garbage in with the stuff, pouring things on it, tossing in broken items. 

It broke Curtis’ heart watching her sob as she tried to piece herself back together with what little she had left.

Sasha had spilled nearly her entire life story to him. 

From being adopted at a young age from a Russian orphanage by the first captain America, to having to learn English.  To it taking a while to learn who real friends were because people just used her because of who her father was.  And just when she thought she had settled in to the American dream, made friends who were real, and felt like she was figuring herself out, she’d met Andy. 

Yes, he was one of her best friend’s fathers.  And yes, there was a substantial age gap.  But Sasha had fallen in love with him on the spot.  As it turned out, her friend was alright with it, as the other five girls in her tight-knit friend group had crushes on each other’s fathers or step fathers.   

But even that didn’t last.  There wasn’t a fairytale ending for her when she got knocked up.  She was scared, and young, but she ended up keeping the child despite wanting to originally get an abortion.  She felt her mental health spiral downwards, until finally when she gave birth she was diagnosed with postpartum depression. 

So, she ran. 

She ditched the engagement ring and the life Andy had promised her.  While they had made a child together, Andy had been treating her with kid gloves.  The doctors all made her feel alien and foreign in her own body.  And she realized that maybe she should just be a teen. 

She went to school and got her degree, but each time she went home she realized that she wanted to be in her first home; with the man she truly loved, and their son.  She realized that she was too young to know who she was and what she really wanted at the time; but it was him. 

But he’d already moved on. 

Or so she thought. 

Things happened like a whirlwind once more and she found herself back in Andy’s arms.  Her son was so accepting of her.  It was like they were all craving one another in their lives.  They got married and had Ashley.  And it was like a kick in the stomach with how things started spiraling again. 

Old feelings came back. 

Andy became resentful all too quick. 

She went to counseling.  Therapy.  Group meetings.  She was trying, for the first time, not wanting to lose them yet again.  Because she had been in that spot, and she knew this time around that despite what she was feeling, Andy was her true north.  Her son was her true north.  And now she had her daughter to add to that.    

And yet, there she sat on his couch.  Hands cut up but freshly bandaged from going through the trash to try to piece herself back together.  Broken-hearted over her husband making the choice for her.

“You’re going to stay with me,” Curtis replied thoughtfully, sitting down on the couch.  He handed her a cup of tea, and she gave him a sad smile, still mostly in a daze over the previous hours, “I don’t mind how long it takes…I can tell that you’re an amazing woman, Sasha.  I’m not going to just let you slip back into that dark place.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Curtis.”

“You’re not asking,” he pointed out, “I’m offering up my home to you.  Me and Maritza.  You could stay with us…at least until you get in contact with your dad and figure out what to do about Andy.”

“I can’t believe the asshole froze my cards,” she muttered angrily, “it wasn’t just his money in those accounts.”

“Sometimes you can’t help how people act.”

She sighed, “you’re really too kind, Curtis…”

“I’m just me, Sasha.  I’m not anything special.”

Curtis gasped, surprised at what he’d seen at his dining room.  He had come back from dropping Maritza off with Lily and had gone grocery shopping, but in the time that he’d been gone, everything had changed.

No longer were his daughter’s toys strewn across the hall and living room, but rather, they’d been delicately placed in the cubbies that Curtis had made last spring for her them. 

The living room looked like it had been cleaned and organized, and the dining room table was very clearly visible.  Two place settings were in order, and on each a wonderful seafood pasta dish that looked like it was straight from a magazine. 

Curtis dropped the bags, shocked at how much she’d accomplished in such a little amount of time. 

Soft footfalls made their way towards the dining room, and she appeared with a bottle of white wine freshly uncorked between her bandaged hands.  Her eyes widened ever so slightly. 

Clearly, she hadn’t expected him to be back so soon.

“Curtis…”

His name coming from her lips sent a shiver down his spine, and a strong emotion overtook him.  His breath stole away.  His lips parted at how beautiful she looked in one of his knit sweaters, and a pair of her leggings.  He could faintly hear the washer, and he realized that her clothes must have been in there. 

“Sasha…” he gasped, suddenly feeling an even stronger emotion as his jeans tightened ever so slightly.  He knew that he didn’t know much about the woman in his home, but he didn’t expect such an electric response to her. 

“I-I thought I could make us dinner…” she said softly, “I mean…I know you’ve said it’s been a while since-“

“It has…” he nodded, affirming that it had been a long time since he’d had a well-prepared meal.  His eyes traveled to the table once more, and he began to feel himself drooling, “I-it looks amazing, Sash…”

She bit her lip, “I figured it was the least I could do…since I’ll be staying with you for a while.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled, and then her eyes fell to the groceries that were at his feet.  She rushed to the table, putting the bottle of wine down before rushing over to him, “here…let me help…”

But Curtis promptly picked up the bags again, denying her offer, “you made dinner…I’ll get this put away and be right out…”

“You sure?”

He nodded, “positive…”

“I’ll pour the wine.”

Curtis frowned as he looked at Sasha, “I’m really sorry about dinner…I-“

“Stop,” she said quickly, her hand falling over his own.  He wanted to smile, but a frown perched itself on his lips when he looked at the bandages once more; a reminder that she was just as broken as him, “I get it.  Trust me, I do.  If Andy called me right now and said that I needed to get Michael and Ashley, I wouldn’t have even thought about it…and anyways…we can always re-heat it…”

“Might have to…” Curtis frowned.  He looked back in the rearview mirror as he put the car into park, to his daughter.  Mouthing the words, he signed in the space where the center console was, ‘food?  Hungry?’

To which Maritza squealed, acknowledging her father with a series of happy nodding, She signed ‘thank you,’ and ‘love daddy’ on repeat. 

Curtis couldn’t help but chuckle and sign, ‘love baby.’

“I take it she hasn’t had dinner either?”

Curtis turned his attention back towards Sasha.  He shook his head, instinctively signing as he spoke, “she hasn’t…”

She giggled and Curtis realized that he was signing to her.  He went to apologize, but she stopped him, “I get it…don’t even apologize because you can communicate with your child.  Does she like seafood pasta?”

“Not in the slightest,” Curtis chuckled, “but I can mak-“

“No…you deserve to relax,” Sasha replied, cutting Curtis off, “I saw some mac n cheese in the cupboards.  Does she like that, or is it yours?”

“She likes mac n cheese…it’s her favorite,” Curtis admitted, “if you make that for her, she probably will beg you to stay forever.  Lily doesn’t like her to have it.”

“If it’s a proble-“

“I said Lily doesn’t like her to have it,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “it’s Maritza’s favorite food…I’m not going to deny my baby girl of anything.”

Sasha felt her heart flutter as Curtis handed her the keys, “I’ll get started on dinner for us then?  And the little princess?”

“Sounds great,” he agreed, “I’ll get her out of her car seat and be right in.”

Curtis’s heart swelled as he watched Sasha putting his daughter to bed.  After she’d made her the mac n cheese, and tried to interact with her all through dinner, Maritza was stuck to her side like glue. 

And she didn’t seem to mind it. 

They played together while Curtis did the dishes, and though he knew he already trusted Sasha with her, he kept finding his gaze going back towards them.  His heart would fill with joy as he watched the beautiful woman with his child. 

“You know…I always hoped Lily would be like that with her…” Sasha nearly jumped ten feet into the air, clutching her heart as she looked at Curtis.  The large man chuckled, “Did I scare you?”

“You’re horrible!” she giggled, gently pushing his shoulder, “you scared me so much.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled, a blush finding its way to his cheeks, “sometimes you forget how much sound affects people with normal hearing.”

“You know…even without it, she’s so curious…so interested in the world,” Sasha said with wonder, “it’s like everything is new and fresh to her all the time.”

“She pays attention to everything,” Curtis admitted.  A frown overcame him when he thought about just a few minutes ago, when he caught his daughter making the love symbol and pressing it to Sasha’s chest when she tucked her in, “did you know earlier…a few minutes ago, she told you that she loved you?”

Sasha’s eyes went wide, “She-she did?”

He nodded, “yeah…funny thing about that is that she’s never even told Lily that…not once.”

Sasha frowned, suddenly feeling bad about how she’d achieved such a quick connection with the little girl, “oh…I-I’m sorry.”

“No…no.  Don’t be!” he said quickly, “she’s never told it to Lily because not once have I ever seen her take half as much interest in her as you did…and that’s her daughter.”

“Ma-maybe she’s got postpartum…” Sasha tried, offering up an answer, “When I-with Michael…”

“No…she just never loved our daughter.  I know that for a fact,” he sighed, cutting her off.  There was a pause between them for a few moments, before he continued, “don’t ever put yourself in my ex-wife’s shoes, Sasha.  You’re leagues above her.”

Sasha took a deep breath, and then she noticed just how close Curtis was to her.  She’d been all but backed up against the door, but she didn’t mind it. 

“Curtis…”

Curtis looped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against her chest, “Fuck…I really like you, Sasha…”

He could feel the heavy thrum of her heart beating, “I-I like you too, Curtis…”

“I-I want to kiss you, Sasha!” he replied, a desperate tone to his voice, “god, do I want to kiss you…”

“I want to kiss you too!” she admitted, her voice barely coming out in a whisper.

“What about Andy?”

“Is he really in the picture if he tossed my stuff and asked for a divorce?” she asked breathlessly. 

Curtis ignored the question and pinned her against the wall.  Their lips clashed in a heated frenzy, working together on an instinctual level.  Her hands slid up his chest, already feeling the muscular form of his body. 

In her head she started comparing the two men in her life.  Her husband was about 6 years older than Curtis, but they looked similar.  Same facial and bone structure.  Same type of undertone in their attitude and how they carried themselves.  But Curtis was a passionate, gentle giant, whereas Andy was a dominating force. 

She moaned against Curtis’ lips, feeling the true strength of him.  He was quick to grab onto his button up, the one that she’d been wearing all day, before tugging at the two pieces of fabric so hard that the buttons flew off of the shirt. 

She gasped, the cool air hitting her bare chest.  Curtis’ hands cupped her breasts as he broke the kiss.  He was taken aback to see her cream colored, milky flesh.  Her nipples pebbled under his touch.  His hands slid down her waist and he picked her up as though she weighed nothing.  Her hands tangled up in his short hair, her legs wrapping around his waist.  His hands tangled in her hair as well and he groaned, grinding his jean covered crotch against her thinly covered core. 

“I wanna feel you, Curtis!” she moaned gently.

“I want to feel you too!” he admitted, gasping as she circled her hips over him.  He groaned and tugged on her hair.  She moaned and pulled him back into the kiss. 

“Who the fuck are you?” a voice called, breaking the couple’s kiss, “and why are you kissing my husband?”

Curtis growled and his eyes turned dark as he looked to Lily, “how the hell did you get in?  And why are you here?”

“My question first!” she taunted, holding up the spare key, “who is your little slut?  And does she know that you’re my husband?”

“Wife?” Sasha asked.  Sasha paled, thinking of the state the two of them were in.

Her legs stayed locked around Curtis’ waist, and he used his body to shield hers from his ex-wife, “Sasha…meet Lily.  Maritza’s mother…and my ex-wife.  What the fuck are you doing here, Lily?”

Chapter 14

Tag List:  @Cjand10, @huntress-artemiss, @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @elbell20-blog

[runaliashok]

Date:10th August 2024

Time: 22:40

Blog: Genetic twins and existential crisis

Me and my identical twin separated biologically when we were out of our mother’s womb. So to say, we were the first twins ever born. So we understand what clinical trial life gave us.

Initially we looked different. He was taller than me, but I was fatter than him. He was a boy and I was a girl. My dad threw a big party at out our birth. All his friends around the world came to see us and we could barely understand why we were seeing so many people that we hardly knew.

Many years later in school or kindergarten we were asked our mother’s name. Now go back to paragraph two! We didn’t see our mother amongst that great party. Our mother fed us when we would sleep on her breast. And my father would tell us that my mother didn’t make it after her delivery to this world.

We lived sad life watching my father work and rich our upbringing. Most of the childhood we would care about my mother and think about how she might have looked. We lived a secluded life in Scotland. We finished school and college in England. And soon we couldn’t see our father often.

He would return in the evening after days of work. One day we grew and saw our father die in front of us. As in he looked fatter and we got news that my dad couldn’t make it to Scotland.

This news reached me and my twin at different times. So we broke at different times. We decided we would were of our father in different ways. As my twin was older, he would pretend to be dad and I would turn out to behave as his daughter. Later I grew tall, I behaved like my mother and he would be my child. As sad as this pretence was, we grew closer to be empathetic towards each other. We decided to go to different countries for work.

When I was in the US, he was in Germany. We would write telegrams, exchange letters, sometimes phone calls and casettes of our favourite musicians. We soon were returning to Scotland from our respective places of work when we met at a transit in India and what we saw shocked us for a life time.

Obviously I grew up to be a girl and he to be a boy. But we looked exactly the same. People saw us looking alike and would pecker off at us. We would laugh because this was frequently darting at us. We decided to visit doctor as we were wanting to know about our genetic makeup. We were told that if any of us separated from each other we would die. But that’s not how we saw it. We worked at different places which we told our physician. But he replied that we were at ease because we knew we had each other. If we lived apart, our heart would stop beating.

We understand it’s foolish to write a informal article for a scientific toolbar. But it’s existential crisis that twins undergo especially like us that want clearance. Back to where I stopped, we underwent a trial for ourselves and saw what that physician said was true. Our hearts weren’t beating when we were apart. We couldn’t still understand what makes us breathe and live in this situation.

We soon visited a cardiologist. He said that we were inseparable because we loved each other. And this happens in most twins. Soon after follow ups, we decided to ask him about who we should wed. He laughed at us and called us naïve. That we didn’t quite live upto our status.

He threw us to a historian to tell us about our father. From that historian, we got philately that our father had written for us. In those conversations he often would talk about days when me and my twin weren’t born. He said one day we both will understand why he didn’t mention about our mother during our childhood. From those letters we could understand that my father lived in depression because my mother never said that she loved my dad to him. And that had made my dad depressed. His heart had stopped beating ever since. But just like us, even he was living like a crow. As you all might know birds don’t have hearts. Or maybe revealing that animals don’t have hearts. Yet they live because they have brain that helps them perceive things.

We decided to undergo scanning . We saw that we had a heart like thing truly, but doctor said that’s just a piece of mass. We didn’t have hearts. We were asound. We asked doctor what makes us live. He said maybe it was our brain. Then we asked what makes us love each other! He replied it’s probably our intellect.

We returned back to Scotland and lived separately in the same old house. We decided to write a letter to the librarian who stored my father’s letters for us. We got his call to visit England. He gave us keys and my father’s belongings. We asked who he was. He replied that it’s something that we should research about.

We got a car, and many houses as fortune that my father spent earning for us. But we decided to give it away to people like us. People who didn’t have a history, present or future. People who were misfortuned and who were refugees of the world. We formed this union and called it life.

We gave life to people and in people’s hearts, we gave them service!