#to be in an empty apartment by myself in dead silence knowing he’s not going to walk through the door any minute

[yoojinluv]

[valentiyne]

𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 716 ❀ 𝗅𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌

Luke Hemmings x Fem!Reader Summary: Paper-thin walls and numerous noise complaints.

FULL BOOK: MIDNIGHT | L.R.H Warnings: None! Slight swearing if you squint hard enough Word Count: 2.8k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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Game Night was hosted every third Friday of the month. Cramped in the new tiny apartment, 7 friends and their significant others wound up on my shitty couch shouting nonsense at each other.

The living room consisted of the old couch, my TV on top of a cardboard box I hadn't quite unpacked yet, and numerous card games.

Holding the slip in my hand, I eye the timer in front of me on the makeshift coffee table My eyes scanned the paper quickly before jumping up and snapping my fingers, "Okay okay, it's born in the water but moves onto land when older."

My friends stare at me dumbfounded, their minds elsewhere as I furrow my brows and tap my feet numerous times. "Come on guys, it's what a tadpole turns into when it's older!" I'm practically yelling now, eyes darting between my friends sitting down and the tiny timer on the table.

"A baby turtle?"

"Andddd time"

I groan in annoyance, dropping the slip of paper while walking back to the spot on the couch, and plopping down with a huff.

"A baby turtle? Seriously?' I scoff, rolling my eyes at my friends who couldn't contain their laughter at my obvious annoyance.

"Okay I'll go nex-", My friend Abby was cut short by a knock on the door. It wasn't necessarily a pound, but it definitely made all of us go silent.

We all look at each other quickly, almost mentally counting everyone to make sure it wasn't an expected visitor.

I slide off the couch, my eyebrows raised for a moment before I walk towards the door. Standing on my tiptoes, I look through the peephole to see my next-door neighbor, Lucas, standing there with an annoyed expression painted on his face. I sigh and unlock the door, poking my head out with a smile.

"Are we too loud?", I ask with innocent eyes, my bottom lip tugged into my teeth as I speak quietly. Lucas gave a friendly smile, his eyebags hidden behind his eyeglasses as he turned to point at his door, "I know it's a Friday night but I'm really busy in the studio tonight... kind of hard to concentrate when there's a bunch of girls next door squealing over....?"

I finish the sentence for him, "If tadpoles are baby turtles." I rub the back of my neck shyly, laughing almost to myself.

"Right yeah, is there any way to keep it down just a tad?"

I give him a thumbs up before we part ways- him rubbing his eyes and kicking his door shut with his bare foot and me turning around and closing it softly. My friends all huddled up behind the door, eavesdropping on our conversation, and as soon as the door shut, they all squealed quietly.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n!", My friend Abby gushing, nudging me with her shoulder harshly. "You never told me you have huge chemistry with your neighbor?"

My eyes grow wide and my hands shoot up in defense, "Oh no- Lucas? He's just a neighbor"

All of my friends' eyes were on me now, and an awkward silence fell upon us. I give a mere shrug before walking back over to the coffee table to scoop up all the cards spawled across it.

"Game night at mine next time?", Abby asks from beside me, picking up the numerous cups with mysterious liquids in them with a disgusted look on her face.

I just nod in response, shoving the cards in their rightful places before sighing softly. We said our goodbyes with platonic kisses on the cheeks and dramatic waves before I was left alone in my apartment again.

It was cold, empty, and dead silent in here- completely opposite of the neighbor beside me I'd assume. My bedroom was similar to the living room- a tiny mattress rested on the floor and my toiletries were packed away in numerous boxes I was too lazy to unbox. My head hits the stiff pillow below me and I could hear Lucas in his bedroom strumming his guitar, humming to himself lowly.

It was a little after one o'clock in the morning, but he seemed to be wide awake singing.

"some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard"

It had officially been two weeks since the game night and two weeks since he came to my door. Lucas and I would occasionally make eye contact on the way to the mailboxes or even hold the elevator for one another- but not a single word was shared between us. He was always in his own world, his head bobbing to an imaginary beat inside his head.

Every night I could hear him singing to himself softly, the wall dividing our bedrooms was as thin as paper. The occasional groan and the sound of notebooks hitting the wall distracted me on nights I needed to sleep, but I never once said anything to him. He was a musician- and a very good one to say the least. I didn't want to be the annoying next-door neighbor.

I swing my door open, looking out into the hallway and scanning each door before finally averting my eyes to his own. The wrench in one hand was held on with a tight grip while the other hand carried the TV mount at my side. I could hear the sounds of various instruments being played from behind his door, his voice clearing every few moments to restart a lyric if it didn't sound right the first time.

The hand that held the wrench swung up, knocking on his door a few times before I took a step back and awkwardly looked around the hallway once again. The sounds from behind his door abruptly stopped and I could hear his heavy footsteps making their way towards the door now. Taking one more step back, I watched as Lucas opened the door and looked down at me,

"I'm sorry, am I being too loud?", He cheekily asked, a smile painted on his lips.

"No no, you're fine.", I laugh at his innocent teasing, quoting our most recent encounter. "I was actually coming over to see if you knew how to mount a TV", I poke my head around his figure and motion towards his apartment, "but seeing as you're busy-"

"I'm not busy." He corrects me, leaning inside his door to grab his keys before turning back towards me and grabbing the box from my hand. "Let me help you out, it'll take 10 minutes tops."

It didn't take 10 minutes. Hell, It didn't even take 30 minutes.

There Lucas and I both were, tools of various shapes and sizes sprawled out across my apartment floor and a cheap bottle of wine I found at the back of my fridge.

"Lucas are you sure you know how to-"

"It's Luke and yes, I know how to do this", he grumbles nonsense to himself as he flips through the instruction manual for the third time tonight. I sighed to myself slightly, trying to keep myself from laughing by taking a swig of the wine.

"Could always just use thumbtacks"

This makes Luke laugh, his eyebrows relaxing on his face and cheeks going bright red. He tosses the manual at me, and I put my hands up to defend myself.

"I'm pretty sure some thumbtacks couldnt hold a 35 pound Tv," He holds his stomach as he rolls around my floor, laughing loudly. I roll my eyes at this, groaning and tossing the screwdriver on the floor.

"Look, it's getting late. I'll just have you come over and do it another time.", I point towards the clock, which was held up with thumbtacks, that read two o'clock in the morning.

"Oh shit, sorry I totally spaced it," Luke stands up now, gathering up his tools quickly and giving me a crooked smile. "I'll swing by sometime this week to help you, I promise." I'm smiling now, shooing him out the door quickly.

"Yeah yeah see you later, rockstar", I tease and close the door abruptly, only to be stopped by a foot in the way.

"What are you doing tomorrow?", The way his eyes glimmered in the hallway light, his hair slicked back from sweat and cheeky dimples appeared as he smiled at me.

"I have finals tomorrow morning, and I'll probably be dead by the time its over- anytime after that I'm free.", I groan dramatically and push my palm into my forehead.

Luke just nods, freeing his foot from the doorway, and gives me a thumbs up, "I'll be sure to be quiet tonight so you can get your rest." I thank him kindly and give him a soft wave before closing the door behind him.

Luke was anything but quiet. I tossed and turned throughout the night, pushing the pillow closer to my ears as I heard him attempting to sing a lyric he wasn't even finished with. if there's one thing I've learned about him in the month and a half I've known him- he was a perfectionist. He sang the same things over and over countless times making sure it was absolutely perfect.

"Cause all these bodies are hoping to get addicted-"

I swing my arm up, smacking on the wall a couple times before groaning and letting it fall to my side once again. His side of the wall went silent immediately, the shuffling of papers and a small mumbled "sorry" was heard.

Luke had avoided me from that point forward: he didn't hold the elevator for me nor did he come and check his overflowing mailbox.

I found myself at his door once again, knocking in one swift movement before clearing my throat. I could hear him shuffling around his apartment, a loud thud followed by a "shit, one second!".

The door opens and a dripping-wet Luke is before me, a towel tightly wrapped around his waist. I blink a few times, holding my gaze above his shoulders out of respect.

"Why are you avoiding me", I ask in a monotone voice, cutting straight to the point. He raises his eyebrows at this now, one hand sassily on his hip.

"Who said I was avoiding you?", He chuckles lightly and opens the door wider, motioning for me to enter. My nose is filled with the smell of the oven baking something sweet mixed with his charcoal body wash. I step inside with a smile, closing the door behind me.

Luke wipes the water from his face and turns away from me, entering his bathroom for a split second, leaving me standing in his kitchen.

I glance around his living room: Pictures of his friends and family are hung up neatly on the wall, his instruments are laid out on the floor around his couch, and his bookshelf is overflowing with numerous copies of musical books.

He emerges from the bathroom once again, now clothed in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts and the towel that was once wrapped around his waist was now encased in his curls.

"I was just going to invite you over actually," He laughs again, flashing me his million-dollar smile before pointing at his dining table. It was decorated with a lace tablecloth, a small bouquet of flowers sitting in a glass-decorated vase, and a plate of steaming hot pasta was laid out. I smile to myself slightly, looking back up at him before taking my seat at the table, he rushes forward, scooting my chair in for me before taking his own seat across from me.

"What's the occasion?" I ask while picking up my fork, poking at the seafood pasta that was professionally plated. If you would've told me he hired a chef to make dinner- I would've believed you.

"I was loud on the night of your finals and I felt horrible knowing I kept you up all night", He picks up his napkin and places it neatly on his lap, "I wanted to make it up to you after I mounted your TV buttt you showed up a little early", He teases.

I take a bite of my food, groaning into the fork with a muffled giggle as my eyes look up at his. The food was amazing, and the flavor was intricately picked out to perfection.

Going back, this perfectly proved my point that Luke was a perfectionist.

We found small talk, conversing over what I was majoring in and what he was busy working on.

"So the album is almost done, I just need to finish this last song," He shrugs his shoulders and scrapes at the remains off his plate. I smile to myself, looking up now with innocent eyes, "Maybe I can help?"

He stands up abruptly, turning around and opening the oven to reveal the freshly baked brownies he had made- from scratch may I add. I groan in anticipation and rub my hands together dramatically. He grabs the brownies with oven mitts, turning around and facing me.

"If you want to help me, I'll allow it", he laughs and places the pan down gently and walks towards his living room, picking up a notebook that was previously thrown across the room.

"Here", he places it in front of me, removing my empty plate and walking

The notebook was written in barely eligible handwriting, with numerous words crossed out and mental notes scribbled on the sides.

Some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard so if I tell you, just keep it and don't say a word. when the doors are all closing.....It's bound to get ?? all these bodies are hoping to get addicted to

The rest of the page was scribbled out, lyrics that never made the cut. I snatch the pen from the metal spiral holding the pages together and click it once.

"it's bound to get.... loud?" I scribble it down next to the question marks and look up at him, scratching his chin with a nod. His cheeks were red now, the wine flushing through his body.

"What rhymes with loud?"

I look up at him now, as he scoots his chair right up next to me to the point our legs are touching.

"Cloud, hmmm,"

"Sound," we both say in unison.

Luke claps his hands together and grabs the pen from my hands, opening the notebook to a new page and scribbling down the new and improved lyrics. I watch him closely, the way his eyes twinkled and dimples poked through when he was concentrating.

I was so screwed. I was falling for my next door neighbor.

I didn't see him for another two weeks, his side of the wall seemed eerily vacant and completely silent. I even knocked a few times in hopes he'd knock back in some sort of rhythm, but there was no response.

Hearing the knock on my door shot my body out of bed, sweat dripping down my neck and sides. I groan and tap on my phone to check the time, blinding myself in the process. The pounding never stopped, not until I stumbled out of bed and opened my door. My heart skipped a beat, praying that the blonde would be on the other side with that cheeky smile I adored.

"Hello?", I ask in a groggy voice whilst rubbing my eyes and squinting up at the person who disturbed my slumber- at 2 a.m. may I add.

Instead of a person, I was met with an empty cold hallway. I avert my gaze down and towards my door mat. There, set up neatly was a bouquet of flowers with a note tied to the front with white lace.

I smile at myself and crouch down, picking up the thoughtful gift and looking down the hallway one last time before kicking my door shut.

Y/n,

I'm sorry I didn't see you before I left. Our album releases at 2:30am today and I was supposed to leave at 2... I just knew I had to leave you something on my way out. I hope you like the flowers I picked out my mom helped me.

I'd have probably sent you the link to the album by the time you finish reading this note.

I'm going to be all over the world, touring and doing what I love. I can't wait to be back home and see you again, i'll make sure to facetime every change I get.

love,

your rockstar

I could hear the familiar ringtone from my bedroom, alerting me that Luke was a man of his word. I wipe a few stray tears and make my way to the bedroom, snatching my phone up with my free hand and clicking the link he had sent me.

This is the song I spent the last 3 months working on, keeping you tossing and turning until finally you perfected it.

Mp3.ifwallscouldtalk.demo

[heaven4lostgirls]

I deserve better (A.H)

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3

summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.

word count: 1.5k

There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.

You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.

“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.

“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.

 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.

 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.

“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.

“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”

“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”

“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”

Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.

“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.

Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.

“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.

You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.

As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.

You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.

In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.

Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.

Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.

[dreamwritersworld]

Disconnected… part 2. (sully family x reader)

“this is what you’ve made me become.”

…and so Jake watched his creation, the daughter he now realizes he damaged. His body ran cold as he watched her pick up a tree branch…and then he followed her chilling whistles.

Y/n thought that was all…that she got all the soldiers, until she heard rustles in the woods. There was no hesitation in the her shot. The teenage girl kicked the gun away from the soldier arms, looked directly into her fathers eyes..

“This. Is what we do to get rid of the bad people. It shouldn’t take that long for you to realize how badly you protect this clan and your family.”

Her eyes were cold and black, the pleads from the man didn’t stop.

“You can breath, you can blink, you can cry….Eywa, you already are. You’re going to be stuck in that broken shell of a body forever.”

Then she cut the man’s vision clear bashing his head in with the thick tree branch.

“Y/n…Y/n s-stop…please. You killed those soldiers, and did more than killing to Quaritch Y/n, you didn’t even blink.”

“You know why I did it? I did it because I wanted to.”

“Don’t be stupid Y/n please. You can fool yourself and everyone else! But you can’t fool me! What happened to you? Because this isn’t you..”

“How would you know about me.”

The built up tension…over years of being locked away and pushed from her family…she aimed the gun to her siblings and mother who came in…the loudness and facial expression towards Y/n felt so unfamiliar…uncomfortable. They never looked at her..and now? Now they see her.

Neytiri’s eyes and hears rang…all she could hear were her mothers warning on Y/n’s behavior…now, she regretted ignoring her persistence on fixing Y/n. Mo’at said she was a monster but now…Neytiri was convinced, Y/n was the devil.

The Erie silence scared her…something she found so peaceful was now so scary. Y/n took her gun and ran through the woods hoping to just breathe for a moment.

It had been hours and everyone went off looking for her…Mo’at especially. Her poor grandchild couldn’t stand being with anyone because that’s how Jake made her, he made her used to being by herself. He gave her all the wrong traits…angry, aggressive, defensive, closed off and…sad.

*Flashback*

Jake made Y/n so stressed that the simplest thing set her off.

Y/n walked away angrily from training, having a rough day of archery…Neteyam could hear his younger sibling exhaling heavily.

“What happened?”

“All my shots were bad, all of them. Every single one.”

Neteyam turned around to the spots Y/n was supposed to aim, masking a surprised face towards the slightly off target aims, no it wasn’t in the exact center but it was almost there, still a good shot.

…it was always all too wrong for Y/n.

*

The frustrating memory came to an end when Y/n heard someone approaching.

“…Y/n! Please come back home! This is- it’s just not ok. The decisions your making right now aren’t wise, especially at this hour-“

“You think I’m some idiot! Well I didn’t ask to be made! I didn’t ask to be torn apart and put back together over and over! To turn into some…some monster!”

“Y/n…“

“No! No don’t say I’m wrong! You don’t get to say that! I spent hours on end training just so I could be perfect for him! For my own father..but I wasn’t! I proved myself over and over and over and over and over and over-“

“..ok Y/n I get it now-“

“No you don’t!”

“…I know you act like you’re the meanest and strongest but you’re actually the most scared of all…I know that you push anyone’s who’s willing to put up with you, cause just a little bit of love reminds you of how big and empty that hole inside you actually is.”

“Stop!”

“I know you feel like no one cares about you!…I know who you are Y/n!…because you were me. My parents always pushed on me to be the greatest tsahik..gave me much more harder time than a child can bare..so please Y/n realize that you’re ok now. I’m here”

For a moment..silence stood between the two…and the girl who Mo’at hoped would get better..broke down, into her grandmother’s arms.

“You were born into a family that doesn’t always appreciate you, but one day things are going to be very different..”

Mo’at placed a sleeping remedy on Y/n’s face hoping to buy her grandchild a good rest and time before the storm. Y/n softly fell asleep into her grandmothers arms. The most emotional yet beautiful sight Moat had ever seen…the child who was always overseen was now peacefully shedding tears while sleeping…it hurt her looking at the way Y/n was fully on guard still. Not once did her hand lose grip on her gun, and her body remained tense.

!💓!

There will be one more part to this! I’m so sorry for the major delay, i haven’t had any time to write and i hope this is good! Sorry for it being short but I’d also love if you guys send in requests for Y/n’s ending in this 💓

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll l @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul l @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @hotdsstuff @heart-an0n @he110hon @go-river-flows

[luckyroll3]

Crimson Lights: Chapter 1

After another long day at the vet clinic and battling the crazy drivers on my trek home, I pull into the garage of my building. Finally, I sigh to myself. 

I drive up to the fifth floor and start looking for parking, getting excited when I see an open spot opposite the door to the elevator. I maneuver into the space, then sit with my hands on the steering wheel while leaning back onto the headrest. It shouldn’t be this hard to get motivated to leave the car, especially when I’m going home to an empty apartment. But it’s been tough adjusting to this new town and new job over the past few months. Getting the offer to take over the clinic came at the perfect time, just as I started questioning why I was still in Seattle after being left by the guy I moved there with because I thought he was the one. It had been 2 years since I ended our relationship, and I had come to hate the apartment and city full of harsh memories. And here I was in a new town where I knew no one and had no support. 

After breathing for a few seconds, I exit the car. Opening the back door, I grab my backpack, and carefully stack the 3 paper bags filled with groceries in my arms. While balancing everything, I reach back in to pick up a small box of ginger ale. 

As I teeter around the door, I hear behind me, “You coming this way?”

“Yeah!” I yell over my shoulder. I bump the back door closed with my hip and turn around. My breath catches as I see him holding the door, the hot guy I’ve been glimpsing from a distance since I moved into the building 3 months ago. Tall, dark, and handsome. Korean, I think, with beautiful brown eyes, black hair combed back, and wearing a very tailored dark maroon suit jacket, with matching pants and a crisp white business shirt. He was always dressed impeccably. And that ass was always a highlight. 

Trying to keep calm, I walk towards the door. I can’t believe that he finally talks to me and I look like...this. He stands to the side, allowing me to pass. As I walk through the doorway, my shoulder bumps the frame and I start to juggle my bags. Slightly flustered, I mumble, “Ah shit!”

“Here, let me help you with that,” he says, his voice low and smooth. He takes one of the brown grocery bags from my arms, his hand grazing gently across my skin and sending shivers down my spine. 

Down girl! I hadn’t been touched by a man in almost two years, and even that accidental touch was enough to get my dormant fires started again. “Thanks. I don’t know why I thought I could carry all this shit in one go.”

I hear him chuckle behind me as we walk towards the open elevator door. Inside, I see his usual companion. I’ve often seen them together in the building and figured they were friends or related. He was also a very good looking Korean, but a bit shorter and muscular. Where the first guy was svelte, this one was thick, but in a good way, and also had a nice ass. “What floor?” the friend asks.

“Ten please.” Buff guy hits the button for 10, then swipes a key card before pressing the button for the 25th floor. Interesting, I think to myself, the penthouse. They’re hot AND rich.

We ride the elevator in silence. I think about saying something, but am not sure what. Thankfully, the door opens. I turn to the first guy, “I can get that now,” nodding towards the bag.

“Nah, I got you,” he says motioning for me to exit with his arm outstretched. 

“Okay then. I’m not too far down.” I nod to the buff one, who nods back, then I  walk out and head down the hallway to my door. I grab my keys to unlock the deadbolt, pushing the door open and dropping my bags onto the bench next to it. “Thanks,” I say as I take the bag from him. “I honestly thought chivalry was dead.”

“Dying, not dead,” he counters with a smirk. As the corners of his lips turn up, two deep dimples appear, as if he needed to get more handsome.

I chuckle and try not to stare, “Yeah, definitely dying. Thanks again.”

“Not a problem. Hope you have a good evening.” He turns and walks back to the elevator. 

“Bye,” I say as I watch him and that ass saunter down the hallway, the tailoring of the suit highlighting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Damn, I think to myself as I enter my apartment and kick the door closed behind me. 

I move all the grocery bags to the kitchen counter and spend the next 10 minutes putting everything away. My mind kept thinking back to the elevator. Why didn’t I say anything? I didn’t even think to ask his name. I shake my head, thinking about the missed opportunity, as I walk towards my bedroom while peeling off my t-shirt. I also remove my bra and jeans and throw everything into the hamper. I slip into a pair of black sweatpant shorts and throw on a cropped tank top. Afterward, I grab a thin headband and use it to tie my curls into a messy bun.

I walk back to the kitchen to grab a beer, and then plop onto the couch. Time to catch up on this week’s Real Housewives. Nothing like mindless entertainment to keep me from thinking about my missed shot. 

About halfway through my second episode, I hear a knock at the door. I usually don’t have any guests on Friday nights unless I order delivery, so I’m a bit perplexed as to who it could be. 

I grab my beer and walk to the door, opening it to find the hot guy from earlier leaning against the door frame, this time dressed in all black. Black jeans, black t-shirt, black baseball cap. His posture exudes confidence.

“Hey,” he says, his voice warm and inviting. As he speaks, his gaze locks onto mine with an intensity that catches me off guard. “I realized that I never introduced myself earlier. I’m Chris.” He extends his hand towards me, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Hi Chris,” I say, placing my hand in his. “Kay.” 

"Kay," he repeats softly, his voice a deep, smooth rumble as he gives my hand a firm shake. Instead of letting go, his thumb makes a light, almost imperceptible circle on my wrist, sending shivers down my spine. "Nice to finally put a name to the face." He drops my hand and his gaze travels slowly from my face down the length of my body and back up again, taking in every curve and angle with an intensity that makes me feel both exposed and desirable. His tongue gently licks his bottom lip, a small hint of hunger flashing in his eyes. I start to feel a bit self-conscious about my choice of loungewear, but there's also a thrill at being watched so closely by him. The heat from his gaze spreads through me, making me slightly flustered and I can feel my heart beating hard in my chest. I’m hoping he can’t hear it. “You’ve been in the building a few months now, right? New to town?”

“Yeah. I moved here from Seattle,” I reply, trying to keep my cool. “Had to escape that fucking place.” 

“Oh really! Everyone I’ve ever heard talk about Seattle loved it. I’ve only been there once for a business trip.” He reaches his left arm up to hold onto the frame. “I guess it wasn’t for you.” He leans in a bit closer to me. “Let’s hope you have a better time here,” he says softly with a charming smile, dimples fully on display. 

“Well things are certainly looking up,” I say with a grin, trying to match his tone. “So do you always welcome the new single women to the building?” I raise an eyebrow as I take a sip of my beer. 

He licks his lips again as he squints his eyes at me. “No.” He exhales slowly. “Just the hot ones.” A wide smile spreads across his face, dimples reemerging. 

Heat rises to my cheeks as I struggle to maintain my composure. I open my mouth to say something, but shut it when nothing comes out. I usually don’t get this flustered around guys, but there’s something about him that makes me a bit nervous, although curious. 

He leans back and ends the awkward silence by saying, “I’m hosting a party tomorrow night for my colleagues and business associates. If you don’t have plans, feel free to drop by. 25th floor. I’d love to see you come.” 

I burst out laughing, unable to hold it back.

He chuckles shyly, releasing the door frame to lift the cap off his head and using his right hand to run his fingers through his hair before replacing the cap. “Yeah, I heard it when I said it.” He bites his bottom lip. “I meant I’d love to see you there.” His gaze is steady as he waits for my response.

I smirk and say, “Thanks for the invite. I’ll think about it.” I feel a rush of excitement at his invitation. There’s something about Chris that draws me in. Maybe it’s his easy charm or the way he exudes confidence without being overbearing. Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s ridiculously attractive. 

“Oh, you’ll think about it?” he says sassily, before chuckling. “You do that,” he counters. “Most people will arrive around 9:00. Bye Kay.” He gives me another once over with his eyes before turning to walk down the hall. 

As I watch him walk away, my heart still racing from the encounter, I can’t yet fully process his invitation. “Bye Chris.” I call out behind him. 

I close and lock the door. “Wow!” I say to the empty room. I lean against the wall and think about what it would feel like to have his hands move across my body like his eyes did and to have those plump pink lips pressed against mine. I feel a flutter of anticipation in my stomach. I take another swig of my beer, and place it on the counter before walking determinedly to my bedroom. Chris has been showing up in all of my masturbatory moments since I first saw him walking to his car my second day in the building. Now I had a name for the face I’d been dreaming of. 

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

“When She Loved Me.”

A/N: Tryna empty out my drafts, I got around 70 drafts- So much writing, but not a lot of posting. So expect a couple of stories coming y’all’s way!

Might be typos!

Bold and Italics are singing!

Setting: Alexandria

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

——————🫶🏽——————

Daryl and I were assigned to go off and search for supplies for Alexandria and that prick, Negan.

I hopped on the back of Daryl’s bike and he drove off to an abandoned part of town, with surprisingly, little to no walkers. Someone either cleaned this place out or they’re being held in one of these buildings.

Regardless of what happened to them it felt the world had shifted somewhat.

Normally it’s chaotic and loud, but here it’s quiet and calm. So quiet you can finally hear someone else think, with how silent it was.

I followed Daryl into one on of the buildings, his knife raised high, taking slow and care-filled steps. I followed his movements waiting for him to give the word that it was safe to explore and once he did, I immediately went to searching.

I looked around in one of the rooms didn’t find much, unless you consider dust bunnies and table scraps useful then by all means, have at it.

I continue to search the drawers, cabinet and cupboards. And found a couple cans of food that were still in date, the rest were already old before we got here.

Knowing that Daryl and I were going to spend the night and travel back to Alexandria as soon as the sun rose, I was quick to get comfortable and make up our beds, in the room that I had already searched.

As I was doing it, I was singing lowly to myself. It was a very calming thing for me. And it keeps me focused and kept me from going insane, at the start of all this.

I usually sing one song then move onto another, but sometimes, that first song will keep repeating cause it’s just so good.

‘When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful.’

‘Every hour we spent together, lives within my heart.’

“I didn’t know you sang.” Daryl stated, once I stopped to focus on putting together the bed rolls. I turn just in time to see him leaned up against a window, and light the end of a cigarette.

“You never asked.” I blurted out it trying to be funny, but Daryl huffed and turned away briefly.

“I do, I just can’t do it all that often with all the walkers, roaming the streets, and all. Don’t want to draw any unwanted attention.” I reply, and swiftly stand up once the beds were made.

I said, and we went back to dead silence, as he smoked and I put finished putting the beds together. So I decided to heat up, what we had brought with us.

I’d heat up what we found, but I’d rather save that for Alexandria even if it was just a couple cans.

I set up the little burner and I open and set the can on top of it before turning it on low heat.

“Keep singing.”

“I’m sorry what?” I ask, in genuine confusion.

“Y’heard me. Keep goin.’” Daryl repeated, taking a drag of the cigarette, before pulling it from in between his lips.

I shrugged and agreed, wordlessly. Considering it’s going to take time for the can of beans to cook, why not sing to pass the time?

‘And when she was sad, I was there to dry her tears.’

‘And when she was happy, so was I, when she loved me.’

I continued to sing as I constantly stirred the can of beans as to make sure it wasn’t sticking to the can itself. Daryl watched my movements, like a member of an audience watching the opera.

‘Through the summer and the fall, had each other that was all.’

‘Just she and I together, like it was meant to be.’

In his eyes it was quite soothing, the way I was stirring my spoon around in the metal can. But doing it all while singing, it was beautiful.

Daryl has never seen or even thought about attending any sort of ballet performance ever. But with how slow my movements were, he could’ve sworn I was apart of the opera in my past life.

‘And when she was lonely, I was there to comfort her.’

‘And I knew, the she loved me.’

I stopped singing as I turned the burner off and took an oven mitt and carefully poor out the beans into two separate bowls.

‘So the years went by and I stayed the same, but she began to drift away.’

‘I was left alone, still I waited for the day. When she’d say, “I will always love you.”’

‘Lonely and forgotten, never thought she’d look my way.’

‘And she smiled at me and held me, just like she used to do.’

‘Like she loved me, when she loved me.’

I smiled and called Daryl over and he didn’t come, so I looked up and motioned for him. He physically had to shake himself out of it, and burnt his finger with the cigarette.

“Shit!” He exclaimed dropping the cigarette to the floor and looked at his finger. He also made sure to stomped out the cigarette before I stood up.

“How bad is it?” I asked, and gently took his hand in my own and checked it out myself.

“‘Is fine. Just a burn, ain’t that big a deal.” He said, and I grabbed my water canister and took him to the sink. I held his hand over it and poured water on top of it.

“Ain’t gotta do that, I’m fine.” He said and I didn’t listen to him and continued to cool down the burn. He sighed and let me do my thing. “Hey, you didn’t finish the thing.”

“What thing? The song?” I asked and he let out a grunt in response. “I didn’t know you wanted me too, hold on.” I cleared my throat before singing the last part of the song.

‘When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful.’

‘Every hour spent together lives, within my heart.’

‘When she loved me.’

[irondad-defensesquad]

Fell on black days

Also on AO3. Wrote this because I'm feeling more depressed than usual.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - suicidal thoughts, near suicide attempt (overdose)

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

It’s a bad day. A truly bad one. The kind of bad day when Peter’s brain won’t shut up, no matter what he does.

It’s a bad day, even though it isn’t a school day. It’s a bad day, even though Peter isn’t alone in his apartment while Aunt May is out for work all day. It’s a bad day, even though Peter is upstate, waiting for Tony to finish making their breakfast.

Tony is humming what sounds to be an AC/DC song, which would normally make Peter laugh. It doesn’t.

Instead, the teenager stares at his empty plate.

It’s nothing. Nothing, hollow.

Peter is hungry for food, but it’s not only that. He hungers for something else, and he doesn’t know what it is. His brain won’t tell him the answer. Or at least not a single good answer.

The first that comes to him is hit his head against the table. Or the wall. Maybe if he does that, his brain will shut up. But Peter is going to break the table if he tries. And he’s going to scare Tony. He doesn’t want that.

Then, the arachnid’s brown eyes find the knife. Not the butter knife.

It’s near his hand.

Maybe if I stab myself, my head will leave me alone.

Maybe if I bleed, I can focus.

Focus on the red.

Red, red, red.

Suddenly, there is a tower of pancakes replacing Peter’s empty plate. It smells delicious – butter, syrup, sugar…

“One Tower of Pisa pancakes for one hungry spider,” Tony teases, sounding like a British butler.

“Heh. Thanks.”

Peter’s lack of enthusiasm is certainly suspicious, since his mentor stares at him for a couple seconds before joining him for breakfast.

The fifteen-year-old eats in silence. He doesn’t savor the pancakes. He’s just eating out of obligation. He does not talk, either.

“… You alright, kiddo?” Tony asks.

Peter barely looks at him. He only nods in silence.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I guess,” Peter shrugs.

Tony drinks his black, bitter coffee, in contrast to his sweet and soft concern, the tender gaze. However, he doesn’t insist.

The breakfast is dead silent. Peter is usually so excited and talkative when he stays over at the Compound. He has many ideas.

Now he stares at the pancake tower, having some of the worst ideas.

Maybe if I jumped…

No, upstate isn’t tall enough. It needs to be a tower. Like the Avengers Tower.

My head hurts and I have to stop it from hurting longer.

Jump. I have to jump. Jump, jump.

“… What was that?”

Shit, was Peter mumbling?

“Um, nothing! Nothing, Mr. Stark. Sorry I’m acting weird today.”

And he’s still not looking at Tony, not when the latter’s big worried eyes are trying to read the latter.

Peter finishes the meal quickly. Tony offers to wash all the dishes. So, Peter goes to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.

Upon seeing his reflection…

Hit your head against the mirror.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Peter growls, struggling not to listen.

It’s so loud.

Then he realizes that something might actually work.

Peter senses that Tony is still in the kitchen, so he makes way to the workshop, and then MedBay. There are tools, first-aid kits…

They can fix him, right?

They can fix his brain, right?

Peter desperately tries to find them.

Thankfully, he does.

The enhanced painkillers Tony made for him.

They kill pain, like the name suggests.

Kill brain

Kill

Kill

The moment Peter opens the plastic, the moment he makes his decision—

“Peter.”

Shit!

The pills are all over the floor.

Now his head screams louder and louder—

“M-Mr. Stark, I can- I can explain”— Peter can’t breathe —“I just need to fix this, I—”

“Peter—”

He sobs. Tony is so scared. He’s so scared.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Peter is going to kneel down to take all the pills and return them – or not return them and put all of them in his mouth –, but Tony beats him to it, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Kid. Kid, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me why you need the pills. Are you hurt?” Tony tries to look for injuries in the meantime.

Yes, but it’s not the kind of “hurt” people expect.

“My head,” Peter sobs. “My- My brain won’t shut up, and I want to kill it, Mr. Stark. I want it to stop, I can’t take it anymore!”

“Oh, kiddo…”

“It hurts, Mr. Stark! It hurts! I just- I just want to die so I won’t have to feel it again!” Peter sobs harder. “I’m so tired, Mr. Stark, I’m so…”

“Shh, shh… easy,” Tony pulls him close, wrapping both arms around Peter, who holds onto him for dear life. “I’ve got you, buddy. I’ve got you, okay?”

“I just want it to be quiet, I just want quiet. My head won’t stop screaming at me and I want to kill it. W-What do I do, Mr. Stark?” Peter suddenly sounds much younger, like he’s a little kid who had a nightmare. “I-I’m scared, I’m scared. I want to die, and I’m scared, Mr. Stark.”

“You won’t be alone, Pete, I promise. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Please, make it quiet, Mr. Stark. Please, please!”

Tony squeezes him tighter. “I will. I will, kid.”

Peter buries his face in Tony’s shoulder, crying like he never did before.

He’s had bad days to the point of wanting to die. But never like this. Never to the point of creating a tunnel vision in his head where he finds no way out.

Tony managed to break through the tunnel to save him.

Peter is so glad he did.

--

Right now, they’re not building anything. At least not machines.

Tony has wrapped Peter in a blanket like a burrito, turning the television on for him. Peter is also holding a cup of tea – he doesn’t always drink tea, but it’s nice. He’s watching a dumb sitcom in the meantime.

Tony is with him, refusing to leave his side.

Once Peter finishes the tea, he lies his head on Tony’s lap – which is mostly an instinct, but Tony doesn’t mind. He caresses the boy’s brown curls, and might as well rub his thumb over Peter’s forehead. A way to calm the latter’s tormented head.

Peter relaxes significantly at this touch.

He sighs deeply, drained.

“Better?” Tony wonders.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah…”

He knows that part of his brain is looming somewhere, read to attack again.

“… I hate days like this,” Peter vents. “When my brain won’t shut up and I want to do anything to make it stop.” He pauses. “Like, suddenly I see anything and I think ‘hey I could kill myself with that’. And it’s not an intrusive thought. I genuinely consider it. I feel awful about it… but I hate my brain sometimes, and I hate that I can’t turn it off without doing something stupid.” He sniffs.

Tony doesn’t reply yet, though he’s still caressing Peter’s hair.

“… Our brains can be scary,” the former finally concludes.

Peter sighs, “Yeah.”

“And the hardest part is that they’re essential to us. All those scary thoughts… they’re also part of us,” Tony explains. “I know that doesn’t sound reassuring at all, but… we don’t have to ignore them or turn them off. We can learn the reason why they’re there in the first place. Without giving in to them, if that makes sense. If it’s too hard to do that, then you can reach out for help. You can reach out to me when you feel like this, and we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

He must be speaking from experience, as it sounds very heartfelt.

Peter looks at him, sympathetic. He sits on the couch to then wrap his arms around Tony.

“Okay, Mr. Stark,” he mumbles, tearing up again. “Thank you.”

Tony sighs, relieved. “Of course, kid.” He returns the hug with one arm around Peter, rubbing the latter’s back up and down.

Safe.

You’re safe.

I’m safe.

Safe, safe, safe.

I'm home.

[ghostherlig]

no no let’s get you started on talking about railao breeding kink! (I meant to send that yesterday but completely forgot 🤣 please talk about railao and trans railao and t4t railao please I am so starved and desperate for them. Also, moment of silence for the lost fics, that is literally the worst feeling in the world 🫡🙏😭)

ASDKLJFHDA- railao breeding kink never leaves my brain i wish i was joking-

i really do have to write a fic about them (which technically the western au is gonna be my top priority once the collaring fic is done and they're going to be a big part of that- (and once it get bATTERIES FOR MY MOUSE AND KEYBOARD-))

also thank you, moment of silence 🫡😔

okay here's my trans railao rant bc i cant contain myself (under the cut bc it gets long and also nsfw warning- includes trans raiden, trans lao, and t4t railao)

i love love love trans raiden- i think lao brags about his everything for a reason and i think raiden knows that intimately- trans raiden whose always had a smaller chest and never felt the need to bind and just worked out to get his chest how he wanted it- raiden who has little to no shame about undressing around ppl bc he grew up in a small village and everyone knew and was fairly supportive :) lao who was ultra extra supportive and helped raiden since boyhood feel more comfortable with who he was and how he presented himself- hasldfkjasd they are so soft i love them

anyway- lao def also takes the strap when raiden feels like topping, and you bet lao makes that all about raiden- literally all the praise and affirmations for him as lao absolutely loses his mind as his boyfriend takes him apart like he gets paid to- raiden who had the biggest breeding kink and likes to get stuffed but also loves stuffing lao even more- they for sure have an ejaculating strap on just so raiden can make an absolute mess out of lao aslkdjfhasdf

trans lao had a lot more insecurities as a kid to me, wasnt necessarily afraid of telling ppl bc they would be hateful but was afraid bc he wanted to be only a man in their eyes- like he was scared they would see him differently than he really was- but raiden helped him with his self-confidence (a little too much, some might say-) and that's why lao talks big game- though often he can follow through, there's a limit to the things he's done and can be good at first try

trans lao who absolutely goads raiden into stuffing him full at every possible convenience- before training? why not- we got twenty minutes and an empty closet, no one's coming by here- it's almost five am and we have training in half an hour, that leaves them plenty of time to have raiden stuff him full and clean him up after- lao is so tempting and raiden falls for it every time, the poor man

lao also loves absolutely breaking raiden down with a strap on- whenever he has the energy to he teases raiden until he's fit to burst and then makes him wait while lao goes to grab everything they need- pillow princess raiden is so near and dear to my heart aasldfkjdf he deserves it :)

railao with one of them being trans is always fantastic but t4t railao really has my heart- t4t railao where both of them grew up and learned how to be themselves together, both kind of figuring it out and coming out at the same time, going through the awkward spots together and helping each other through it- asldkfhasdf them having that friends to lovers slow burn where it takes them like five years, three life crises, and almost the end of the world to realize that they love each other-

t4t railao where they both crave the closeness of the other so much so that it's maddening and they end up forgetting where one starts and the other ends-

any version of railao that knows where the other is in a room at all times, even blindfolded they could find each other in dead silence, i swear- railao with that soul tie bc they've spent so long together that they've become basically inseparable, literally a package deal, where one goes the other does too-

asdlfkjasdf i love railao so much i need to spend more time writing them- new year's resolution: write railao-

[emerald-chaos]

Well, you see—I was left to my own devices and that included listening to sad music and watching sad edits. So really, it’s not my fault that I wrote this. Just know that I am deeply sorry in advance if this hurts you like it hurt me to write.

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

warnings: angst, cursing, alcohol mention, not really with the canon timeline—suguru deflects a few years later in this story

divider by: @/cafekitsune 🤍

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own

The sound of alcohol being poured into the glass is vaguely acknowledged by your brain—but it’s like everything else in the room is a blur. The entirety of your body just feels…numb.

“Hmm, okay. The next one is: where do you see yourself in five years?” You read the words from the paper—potential interview questions, Suguru had told you.

The raven haired man snorts before he answers.

“Really? You picked that one?”

“You’re the one who printed off the list!” You giggle, choosing to ignore the way he rolls his eyes at you.

“Besides…color me intrigued.”

Suguru looks at you for a moment, the neutral line of his lips slowly curving into a smile as he looks at your face. His hand comes up, finger extending so that he can drag it along the shape of your jaw.

“Where do I see myself in five years…hmmm…” He pretends to think hard about the question, his eyes never once leaving his finger as it stops at the center of your chin.

“I think I see myself,” eyes finally fluttering upward to meet your own as his grin grows just that much bigger, “with you.”

Mind completely spaced out, the last few drops from the bottle fill the glass almost to the top—luckily not enough contents to make a mess over the freshly cleaned countertops.

A buzzing noise brings you back to reality—blinking your eyes a few times before you look down to see your phone lit up.

one new message

shoko🤍: just let me know when you’re ready to be picked up, okay?

Turning your phone over, you grab your glass and head back into the living room of the apartment. The liquid burns as it makes your way down your throat, but you can’t find it in yourself to even make a grimace. The edges of your vision have started to blur a little and there’s a kind of weightlessness to your body that makes it feel just a little bit odd—but none of that really matters.

The room surrounding you is empty. The entire apartment surrounding you is empty.

No one wall bares the images of the life you lived, no furniture is placed delicately in its perfect position—all that remains are the scuffs and pin point holes.

You let your body slump onto the floor, spilling a bit of your liquor as you do, sitting criss cross in the dead center of the room.

Although it’s all gone, you still see it so clearly. Every party hosted, every fight had, every moment where you couldn’t quite get each others clothes off fast enough—it was all still there. Burned into the space that inhabited the apartment.

It was haunted.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?” You speak softly, rubbing your hand up his forearm as you sit facing one another on the couch.

There’s a smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Suguru’s smiles always reach his eyes.

“Positive. Wanna watch that documentary now?”

More burning in the back of your throat as you toss back another swig from your glass. You’ve never been a smoker, but fuck—you could really go for a cigarette right now.

Slowly, your eyes closed as you took a deep breath—willing your brain to shut off for at least a moment. The silence is there to welcome you, but not for long.

A quiet gasp tumbles from your lips, the warm feeling of his on your neck as it trails down.

“There won’t ever be anyone on this earth like you.”

“Hmmm, sounds sweet but also vaguely threatening—you plan on getting rid of me sometime soon?”

The man behind you chuckles before gently reaching around you grab your chin—directing your face toward his.

“Never.”

You aren’t even aware of the fact that you’re crying until you feel the warm drops that slide down your hands. Then comes the sensation of your shoulders shaking, followed by the sob that comes from your chest.

How could he?

How is it possible for someone so good to suddenly become so evil?

This man was not Suguru Geto. This man was not the one you loved.

It was like someone else had possessed him—locked his truth deep down inside and instead put forth something so sickeningly despicable—like the plot of one of those ridiculous horror movies he used to make you watch in this very apartment.

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on the floor in order to keep you upright as you continued to sob. The feeling in your chest one you’d never felt before. This was a hurt like you’d never experienced—like it manifested itself in your fucking bones.

Suddenly it felt like you had no control over your body—your hand reaching out to grasp around the glass, only to throw it as hard as you could against the wall and watch as it shattered.

The sobs wracked through your body—your throat beginning to hurt from the forcefulness. Your body wanted to give up, to break down, so you allowed yourself to collapse onto the floor.

“W-what?” Your voice was meek, like it wasn’t even your own.

“We both know you heard what I said.”

You stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly while your mind raced to put together the pieces of what he’d just told you.

“But it just…Suguru this doesn’t even sound like you. Y-you said yourself to Satoru that day, we exist to protect non-sor—“

“Well, I was full of shit then.” His words are harsh and cold—nothing like the way he usually spoke to you.

“Don’t you understand?” He leaned forward, looking at you with eyes that did not belong to him, “Why should we protect those who despise us? Who couldn’t care less what happens to us and who are too damn weak to do anything for themselves?!”

Your breathing was shaky, heart thumping rapidly in your chest as you looked at him.

For the first time ever, you were afraid of him.

“You’re either with me, or you’re against me. That choice is yours.”

You’re unsure exactly when you stopped crying.

When your eyes opened again, your body was curled into the fetal position on the floor—eyes burning from tears and bones aching from the hard wood beneath you.

You knew you should get up and call Shoko. That you should gather up your things and leave this apartment for the last time.

But the second you walked through that threshold and shut that door—you were closing the door on him as well.

So, maybe you’d lay there…if just a little bit longer.

[keelt9]

Chapter 6

Masterlist

It’s my second time trying to beat him but Joe is pretty good in this video game.

I clap my hands and stand. “Ok, I give up. My fingers are cramping.” Joe laughs as I go to the kitchen for water.

“Come on!” But in the middle of his way to the kitchen, it seems he gets an important call for the way he walks to the other room. “One second.” He answered the call.

My sight was caught by the flowers in the living room. “I'm crazy.” I whisper to myself, turning around I see the pile of plates, cups and empty glasses of water, we've been accumulating during the day. 

I started to wash the dishes so immersed in my duty, until Joe came and turned me around with a wide smile on his face.

“I have bubbles on my hands.” I raise but his smile turns bigger. “What?”

He takes a deep breath. “Will you come with me?”

“No.” It's a mechanism of defense that comes naturally. “Ok, sorry, it’s just… still unusual.”

The switch in Joe's eyes expresses regret but I can’t help it, things are improving but others still are complicated.

Joe takes steps back and I see the confusion if he should ask one more time or just let it go. “I’ll go, if you want me to go.” 

I stand in front of him, unsure of grabbing his hand, but he does it even a few bubbles remind, and tries to smile one more time.

“I don’t want to make you unco…” I squeeze his hand. 

“Let’s do it.” This time a smile is forming on his face.

Joe said I shouldn’t be worried about anything, just be ready in 3 days with a bag and all I could need for 2 days, he’ll come to pick me.

A week later and a constant delay of my story to Leah along with quick calls everytime I can; we head to the airport on a Thursday late at night.

“Here we are.” I parked so he could go down. “Do you forget anything?” I smile at him.

It’s been the most calm week in years, we only leave the apartment for groceries. Besides that it was long movie nights, afternoon of games and morning of talking. 

He checked one more time his bag. “All in here. Thanks for dropping me here.” I nod and take from the back of my car a small thing I bought for him.

“Here.” Joe took the bag from my hand, but didn't open it, he looked at me and I nod smiling.

Inside the box were a couple CDs and 3 photos I took this week.

“The CDs, I know, are too old fashioned for you but, I record some songs that you’ll probably like to try based on the teaching of my father and the photos, it speaks for itself.” Joe takes one and smiles at it.

“What a good profile I have.” I bluff and both of us laugh. He raised the photos. “You’re right, this is so much better than a digital one.” 

He put it all in the bag one more time. “I’ll see you in 3 days, all right?” Joe opened the door as I put my belt on one more time, but when I lifted my head I was surprised by a small peck on my cheek. “Drive safe.” 

Then he closed the door, weaving his hand as he entered the airport.

“Won’t be easy, won’t be easy at all.” I whisper to myself, taking the driveway.

At home I spent the night telling details of my week to Leah, and she was bombarding me with questions, some of them I didn’t even formulate myself until she did. 

“Jeez, you make it sound complicated.” I giggle while sitting on my bed after finishing my laundry. 

“It is complicated Leah.” The fact that old feelings that I thought were dead come to the surface so easily it’s complicated if you think about it carefully. “What if when everything starts to be back to the way it is, he changes again?”

The silence that follows my question answers for her and she knows it.

“It has to be a football player, huh?” Leah nevers fails to make me laugh and relax. 

By the third day, just like Joe said, he knocked on my door at 5 am.

“Are you…?” He blinks when he sees I’m actually ready with my bag over my shoulder. 

“Let’s go.” I close my door with a satisfactory smile on my face. First time, I surprised him.

I walk to the parking lot of the building right to my car but he grabs me by my shoulders and walks with me to the opposite. 

“My car is that way.” I pointed to my back. 

“I know.” Joe answers as we walk right to a black car.

My bag fell from my shoulder. “Don’t tell me you drive from Cincinnati to here?” When he didn’t reply, it made me more intrigued.

He put on his sunglasses, and opened the door for me. It was five hours of driving. It took me at least 30 minutes, besides watching the empty bottles of water at the back for coming out of my shock and finally asking, as he kept driving. 

“Oh my god!” I laid back on the seat, he chuckled. “Why are you smiling like you just drive for 3 blocks?”

I close my eyes, feeling his hand on mine, a small squeeze. “Let’s enjoy the trip, ok?”

“I don’t even know where we are going.” I watch through the window, as we keep driving far away from the city, buildings are left behind, only the road and trees are visible in the distance. “I trust you, I’m just establishing a fact.”

I’ve seen this place before, in pictures, but having it in front is fascinating. It’s a famous camping site. A few of my coworkers have come here and said it’s one of the most beautiful places they have seen, but with my daily routine, having a weekend in nature it’s the last thing on my list.

“Do you like it?” Joe said as he opened the door for me so I could get down. My eyes are stuck to the wonderful mountains in front of me, the clear sky and the just appearing green grass all over the place. 

It’s the end of the winter, however the cold breeze makes me shiver so I put my hands in my pockets.

“I did some research.” Joe stands next to me with a proud smile on his face. 

“Asking to the players from the Bears, it doesn't actually count as research.” He opens his mouth in disbelief I guess so quickly. “But, I give you some credit for that.” 

I take a picture of the mountains, clearly an image that will be on my wall.

We spend the day walking around the place, laughin, eating and talking like time stops in that place and it’s us. When the night approaches we make a campfire and it starts to make sense why everyone fell in love of this place.

As the sky turns dark, the stars appear in the sky; in a city where you are constantly dazzled by the light of the building, the streets and all that isn’t natural, this feels surreal.

Unable to move my eyes from the sky I laid down on the grass and admired the night. Joe after coming out from the tent he laid down with me, breathing in slowly.

“Thank you, this is amazing.” I turn around but he’s as immersed in the sky as me. “It was pretty easy after all.”

Joe turned around and saw me. “Huh?” 

“Coming with you.” He smiled at me and shrugged his shoulders.

“The hard part is tomorrow morning.” He watched one more time to the stars. “We have to wake up early in the morning if we want to be on time, let’s call this, the preview.”

I laugh and watch the stars feeling at ease.

Sleeping in a tent after living for a week in the same apartment, it isn't as easy as I thought. Every time I close my eyes the mere presence of Joe makes me feel shy; in the apartment we were separate in different rooms but here we’re so so close.

It was until I turned around, I saw him sleep so peacefully along his hand covering mine over the pillow that obligated me to stay there, unconsciously falling asleep.

Joe woke me up moving me softly from side to side. “Just 5 minutes.” I heard him giggle as I hid my head in the pillows.

“Sorry, but we have to go.” I curse on my mind and open my eyes, still dark outside. Joe comes out, I follow him.

“We can’t even see the sun!” I tried to go back but he grabbed me by my arm and softly pulled me to our improvised table for we had a small “breakfast.”.

“The real breakfast will come after.” He takes the last sip of his protein milkshake. “What?”

I scrunch my nose. “Protein milkshake, really?” He laughs.

“I have a body to keep.” Joe winks at me, my face stops feeling cold.

This is the second time I heard a deep growl, being in the middle of the forest and the darkness don’t put the best scenarios on my mind.

“No, definitely no.” Terrified, I grabbed Joe's arm standing useless next to a tree, holding onto it with my other arm as my life depended on it.

Joe laughs, putting my arm around his neck and carrying me in his back. “What if there is a bear?”

“There are no bears around here.” The third time I heard it I put both of my arms around his neck shaking. 

“Joe, pl…” The sound of a big air stream makes me open my eyes.

In front of me what looked like a white hot-air balloon started to take form, I heard him giggling as he kept walking.

“No one told me about this.” I pat his shoulder so he can get me down and I start to walk, but he keeps going. “Joe, you can put me down.” 

“Maybe it’s a new one.” Joe's grip my thighs softly making sure I don’t fall.

He smiles, but I insist. “You being injured in the off -season cost millions of dollars, I can walk.” 

“You better start to save money.” My words were cut for the amazing view of the balloon on the top of a small hill, and the empty place, just a man making sure everything is well set inside and outside of it.

Finally he put me down, clicking on my thoughts.

I grab him by his hand, but he just makes a face of resting importance. “How do you know it?” This time my words are heavier than my attempt to pull because he turned around facing me.

When I was 7 years old, my dad and I were watching a documentary called “How it works” about hot-air balloons. I get fascinated and wonder what it feels like getting higher slowly and the marvelous view you can have from there. 

It’s become a dream I want to make true one day.

“Your mom and I from time to time like to talk.” He put his arm around my shoulder as we walked.

“About who?” Joe laughs with the child mood, a contagious one.

The man inside the balloon told us all the safety measures and all precautions we must take.

“Any questions?” He asked, looking at us, we shook our heads. “Let's go. It seems it will be a wonderful morning.” 

We get in and the man behind us starts to move and a strong flame makes us start to raise slowly with a shake.

I grab the basket for the excitement making Joe worry, grabbing my shoulders asking if I’m ok. 

“Yeah, yeah, it's wonderful. I'm so breathtaking, that’s all.” I couldn't take my eyes off the amazing view of the sun coming out between the mountains, turning the sky orange with a small touch of yellow.

When we reached the limit the sun was already over the mountains and we could see the trees with a touch of green for the leaves coming out.

“Thank you so much.” I took Joe by surprise and he looked at me. “This means so much.” 

He smiles and I tingle my arm with his, lean my head in his arm.

I lost track of time we were in the sky until the man told us it was time to go down. When we reached the ground we thanked him before going.

“It's nothing young lady, your boyfriend is in charge of every detail.” My face turns warm and the man giggles and turns around to start to disassemble everything.

We turned around as the man called us one more time, still he had something left to say.

“I hope to see you in the games!”  

The hit of reality came from the most unexpected moment, and we saw each other knowing  that.

As we packed our things he didn't waste any time and asked the question.

“Do you think about it?” He put the last bag on the car. “I would really love it if you were with me, not only as a friend.” 

My silence made him keep talking. “You can come to the training camps, enjoy the games and bring Archie…” 

“Joe.” I feel overwhelmed just thinking about a life changing decision with so much rush. “I'm sorry but I'm not…” 

At the same time I feel bad for not wanting to take a risk after all he's been doing. 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I'm not going to do any of that. What are my chances that you don't change your mind like you did? What if you just stop thinking like you do right now?”

Joe tried to speak and I knew he would deny. “When the time gets rough, you think you will be able to let me be there for you?” He moved his eyes side to side searching for an answer. “Or you just locked up and put me aside for “protecting me”? 

Joe got down his head, I knew it, but I need the confirmation.

“I'm not mad or something like that.” I giggle because I pictured myself this moment so many times. “But could you be honest with me?”

He took a deep breath and looked right into my eyes. “Football is a big part of my life, it's been years trying to reach my goal and I'm coming closer year by year, I…I don't picture my life making a stop or changing something that has been working so well.”

I nod and pat his arm. “I…But I really want you to be with me. I'm confused.”

“These are extraordinary days of our lives, we both know that. Things changed.” I smile at him, a fake smile. “You will always have me like a friend, not like an enemy anymore.” Both of us giggled. “But I think that's all I can offer.”

“Maybe with…” His voice cut and cleared his throat and made my heart squeeze.

“Every time you are here for a game, I'll be there in the crowd.” He raised my pinky finger. “I promise you that.”

With teary eyes I lock our fingers.

[ugh-yoongi]

Hi! Would it be possible to request for another part or a continuation of ‘(don’t fear the reaper)’? Thank you and congrats on the milestone!

hi, thank you so much for the request — and for wanting a second part of my silly little story. i hope you enjoy this. <3

read the original drabble :)

(redefine happiness)

pairing: reaper!jungkook x f. reader genre: supernatural au; crack/humor, a little fluff warnings: swearing, mentions of death (inc. the death of a loved one) and grief, l*ndlords, bickering, slight emotional hurt/comfort. unedited. rating: mature-ish. just because one part deals heavily with death/grief, so if you're sensitive to that kind of thing, i would probably skip it. wordcount: 1.4k

They say you start life with two bags: one full of luck, and the other empty with experience. The trick is to fill the one before you empty the other.

If you ask Jungkook, your experience bag is still woefully empty.

“You know that smell isn’t normal, right?”

You huff. Roll your eyes even though he can’t see you from his spot on your couch. Well, maybe he can. You haven’t fully figured out the extent of his abilities. You know you can hear him in your head and that he saves you from an untimely death four to five times per week, but to this day, the only person you know that has eyes in the back of their head is your mother. So, yeah—the jury's still out.

“It’s fine,” you retort. “I think the mayo’s just close to going bad.”

“Expired mayo doesn’t smell like sulfur.”

“Sure it does, it’s got eggs in it.”

Jungkook groans. “Do you act this dense on purpose or are you actually this dim?”

“That’s a little rude.”

“Your apartment is about to blow up from a gas leak and you’re worried about pleasantries?”

“I’m just saying,” you argue, and if you switch off the stove, that’s none of Jungkook’s business. “This is a recurring theme when it comes to you. Would it kill you to be nice to me for once?”

“I’m already dead, so no, it wouldn’t.”

“You’re insufferable.” You grab your phone from the counter, readying the emergency number. “Do I have enough time to call the gas company or am I going to blow up in the next two minutes?”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if you did?” He heaves a wistful sigh. “Blissful silence.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I’ve been praying for blissful silence for months—oh, hello! I’m calling to report a possible gas leak in my apartment. Sure, I’ll hold.”

Your landlord is an asshole.

It goes without saying, because he wouldn’t be a landlord if he wasn’t, but it’s worth repeating.

“Do you think he’ll sue me if I steal his credit card and charge it myself?”

“That’s fraud, so yeah, I’d say so.”

You hum. “Okay, but per my lease agreement, he’s supposed to compensate me for the cost of my hotel stay during repairs. Like, he signed the piece of paper that says that. And he refused, so technically he broke the law first.”

“Not sure that’s how that works,” Jungkook retorts. He’s sitting in the chair by the window, a newspaper folded over his crossed legs. Every now and then he laughs at one of the cartoons and goes quiet when he gets to the obituaries. You wonder if it’s like looking through a yearbook for him. “I wouldn’t worry about him anyway.”

He says it in that very matter-of-fact way that always makes the hair on your arms stand up. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jungkook, what does that mean? Is my landlord going to die?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

You groan, throw yourself backwards onto the mattress. It’d be nice to take a shower, but the hotel towels are stiff and itchy from the industrial-strength detergent, and you’ve been trying to convince yourself to get up and go buy something marginally better for the last fifteen minutes. But it seems like such a waste to spend money on a towel, and the thought of spending money at all when your dickhead landlord is still refusing to cough up your compensation does nothing but make your blood pressure spike. Which makes—

“Can’t you meditate or something? You’re driving me insane.”

The ceiling bears the brunt of your glare. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“I can hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“Your blood pressure.”

“You’re full of shit,” you accuse. “Why are you even here, anyway? Don’t you have someone else to annoy into an early grave?”

“That’s not my job, first of all. Second of all, there’s someone nearby that I have to pick up in roughly three and a half minutes.”

“Nearby…? Like, how nearby? Next door? Down the hall? A few floors up?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. Not really. Instead, he says, “I’d suggest you go and buy those towels now.”

So you do.

Is it weird to be lonely when you’ve got a voice in your head?

Feels like it is. Feels like other people would’ve taken advantage of it by now. Made friends or something, as much as one can befriend a Reaper, because Jungkook’s always there and always has something to say, and sure, those things he says usually detail all of your inadequacies, but he’s still someone to talk to. Someone it’s possible to get to know. Someone you can form the kind of bond with that might cure some of this incalculable loneliness.

But it’s not like that between the two of you, so you don’t.

Your new apartment building has a rooftop—the kind you can sit on the ledge and dangle your feet off of as you marvel at the city below. Everything is small and insignificant from your place in the sky, and it helps a little to feel like the most powerful thing in the universe.

“You’re not gonna—”

“No,” you cut Jungkook off. “I just like to sit up here sometimes. It’s calming.”

“It’s nearly freezing. There’s two weeks until winter.”

“I don’t mind the cold,” you say, and it might be the most personal thing you’ve ever said to him. Isn’t that pathetic, you think, and you steel yourself for a quip that never comes.

“Is that why you’re up here, then?”

You shrug. “Been having a hard time of it lately, I think. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Maybe.”

“When you go to collect people, do they talk to you? Like, I know they can see you the way I can, but…” You trail off, looking at the specks of people on the sidewalk below you. Can’t help but wonder. “Are they usually resigned? Do they try to bargain with you?”

Jungkook appears at your side. Sits beside you and dangles his feet off the ledge, too. “Every collection is different, but it usually depends on how they died.” He sucks in a breath, toys with the hem of his thick sweater. “If they’d been sick for a long time? Sure, those people are usually accepting. They usually get the chance to say their goodbyes. That’s… well. That’s not typically the case when it’s sudden.”

“Right, yeah. That makes sense.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I guess—I lost someone a few years ago. I was just wondering if it was peaceful for her.”

“Your grandmother,” Jungkook says, and it’s a statement, not a question. “You carry your grief around with you like a shadow. It’s impossible not to notice it.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I think I figured out why you can see and hear me.” You quirk an eyebrow. “Your grief is overwhelming. It was one of the first things I noticed about you, once the shock wore off, but you also reminded me of someone. Took me a while to place it, but then I remembered.”

“You collected her,” you say, putting the pieces together.

“I did.”

“Were you as much of a pain in the ass to her as you are to me?”

Jungkook scoffs, though the corners of his mouth tug upwards. “No, but the two of you are very similar.”

“Yeah, my mom used to tell me that all the time.” You sigh, dreading the question you know you need to ask, but as soon as you steady your nerves and open your mouth, Jungkook’s holding up a hand to stop you.

“It was peaceful for her.” He answers your unspoken question with all the kindness and comfort it requires. “She was ready, and she knew you’d been there to say goodbye to her.”

“Oh,” you choke out around the lump in your throat. “Thank you.”

Jungkook nods. “She did try to bargain with me, though. She asked if there was someone who could look after you. Said you were smart and capable and… stubborn as an ox, I think were her exact words, but she still worried about you.”

“And you got stuck with that job? Sorry, but you don’t seem like the babysitting type.”

“I’m not, but somehow I did.”

You can’t help but laugh, disbelieving and overwhelmed. “Well, it’s lucky for me, knowing how many times you’ve saved my ass, but I’m sure you’re counting down the days until you’re free from me.”

“No,” he replies, and the conviction in his tone nearly has you tumbling over the ledge. Jungkook seems to exist solely to give you shit and remind you how underprepared you are to survive in the world. He doesn’t say no with that amount of faith and principle. “No, little bluebird, I’m not counting down the days at all.”

[acertainmoshke]

Snippet: Dream Part 3

in which I set up a plot point for book 3 because I am Like That (also this is the last part of this dream)

Content warnings: general death and a little blood I guess, but not as intense as the first two

“I came to save you,” I tell her.

She smiles sadly. Sweetly. Perfectly. “Nothing can save me. But I was harsh before. Perhaps you don’t deserve this. You’re going to get it either way.”

And the world crystallizes into somewhere else. Somewhere new. I don’t recognize the icy street, the piles of snow taller than Kris that line either side, the buildings around us containing far more glass than stone. The cars are odd too, larger and rounder than any I’ve ever seen. Cassandra still stands beside me. Her skirt whips in the winter wind, but she doesn’t seem to feel cold. The snow crunches sharply under my feet, but neither of us leave footprints behind as we walk down the street.

I look harder at the cars.

This is the future.

I wonder when this is and if I’m dead yet, but it doesn’t seem likely. I’m not so lucky.

As soon as I realize that even the wind is silent, the sound returns in a painful roar that makes me flinch before settling into the mostly-expected: howling wind, the distant thrum of traffic, voices yelling and laughing. But there is an unexpected noise, too. It reminds me at first of the clatter of pots pushed off the shelf when you’re too small to grab them properly. But no, I know this sound. It sounds like…fighting. Weapons clashing and angry yells, but on a larger scale than any battle I’ve been in.

Cassandra is walking calmly towards the sound, so I follow her.

We started off several blocks away, and as we approach the clatter becomes a roar. I recognize the red and gray uniforms from the Veil Guard posters. Their enemies, to my shock, are clearly actual Fae in actual armor with crystal weapons. There are many more humans, but even so they seem impressively evenly matched.

The human closest to us is a beautiful man with bright red hair, uneven teeth, and freckles scattered like stars over his skin. He’s laughing in the same kind of ferocious delight I hate myself for when a sword sprouts through his chest. A shining metal sword. His blood arcs in bright droplets onto the snow and when I look for the human traitor behind him, I see no one there. The man gurgles and falls, kept half on his knees by the hilt sticking out of his back.

None of the other soldiers seem to notice right away, and I’ve just taken a step forward when the scene melts again.

For a long stretch, we are Nowhere. There is no color and nothing to see or hear. It’s not dark or light. The usual weight and soft rush of silence are gone. I am surrounded by true Nothing. Cassandra is still next to me, but we are no longer standing because there is no ground beneath us.

Before I can open my mouth to complain about any of this, Cassandra speaks in her soft, sad voice. “That was, perhaps, unfair. Let me make it up to you.”

I’m not sure I understand what was unfair. What did she just show me? A battle I wasn’t part of? A stranger dying? Fae overtaking a city I’ve never been to? I feel like every time I was stuck in a conversation that made no sense to me as a child, with everyone else nodding along.

But the world is already resolving itself into something new. I’ve never seen this particular small apartment before with its faded blue curtains, cracked dining chairs, and dusty lamps. But I recognize it in a general sense. I know the stone making up the view across the street and the chill radiating from the closed window. The radio on the hearth looks like the one Jim owns. We’re back in the city.

It takes a moment, in that dreamlike way, for me to realize the room isn’t empty, and that I know the woman sitting in the rocking chair. Her dark hair is limp and uncurled, her wrinkles deeper, and her eyes dull, but standing across the room from Mom still sends a jolt down my spine.

I turn to scream at Cassandra—and maybe to see if she’s real enough to be stabbed—when Mom opens her mouth to cough. And cough and cough. She doesn’t stop for a long time. No one comes to check on her.

“This is today,” says Cassandra, her tone unchanged. “She will be dead by next week.”

I let that sink in. Mom, finally gone. Mom, alone and uncoiffed, dying in this sad little apartment.

At last, I smile.

And then I remember something. “But you can’t want this.”

Cassandra only shrugs. “Like I said, I’m not here.”

I look at her, harder this time. Her face is more expressive than mine, but I’ve only seen her express a graceful sadness that would get old fast if she didn’t smile and nod when told to. Her hands are still but her shoulders hunch a little, like she’s trying to disappear into herself. I wonder if they wouldn’t be as happy with her as I thought.

“Thank you,” I manage, before the scene melts again.

General tag list: @ashirisu

Cold Iron tag list: @amielbjacobs @stesierra @ettawritesnstudies @the-inkwell-variable

[randomtacoscry]

WIP Wednesday!

You guessed it; I'm back with another (after like a month). This one isn't super long (god I am really not a writer am I) but I wanted to put it out there to encourage myself to keep moving forward with this fic (I'm super excited but have been busy af and need to find time to write this thing bc I literally can't wait). Anyways, without further ado... the wip -> (there is more after the break)

Ice steps out onto the deck of the carrier, the warm, humid air hitting him immediately. He walks over to the railing and rests his forearms on cool metal before taking a second to look out at the ocean. They’re headed back now, after a successful mission. Ice tries not to think about how close he was to killing himself, and his only real friend. Being out there, flying against enemy fighters, trying to maneuver his way out of enemy tone- he can’t imagine what Maverick felt that day. 

Hop 31 still haunts him.

Ice doesn’t know if he’s thinking about himself, or about his wingman. None of them had any idea if Hollywood and Wolfman lived after their ejection and Ice can’t stop his mind from drifting back to that feeling. The unknown. The fear of being the reason people are dead, or killing others. He doesn’t let himself think about the pilots he shot down. The people he, himself, has killed. Ice lets out a breath before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack. He places a cigarette between his lips before replacing the now-empty pack with a lighter. Ice rolls the dial, lighting up the flame, and holds it against the tip of the unlit cigarette until it begins burning. He leans down against the railing, his hands toying with the lighter ahead of him. On and off. He watches the flame flicker and glow before disappearing into the abyss. He pockets the lighter, removing the cigarette from between his lips and blows out the smoke into the warm evening air. 

Tom was never huge on smoking, but times like these… he just needed to cool down. Sometimes, when the Iceman couldn’t freeze the thoughts rifling through his head or numb the quick pace of his heartbeat, he chose to turn to artificial numbing; a way to relax without the effort of having to do it himself. 

Quiet footsteps sound behind him and gradually get louder as they approach him. He knows who it is.

Maverick walks up beside him and matches Ice’s stance, leaning against the railing, staring at his hands plainly. Ice doesn’t look to his left, he just relies on what he can see in his periphery to pick apart the fellow pilot beside him. His breathing seems normal, if not a bit slow, the way his thumb rubs against the palm of his other hand means he’s fidgeting whilst in thought (Ice just can’t figure out what that is right now), but his eyes look dark. Like they’ve simultaneously given up on everything whilst actively wondering what’s next in the pilot’s life. 

Ice felt it. That feeling on deck. He didn’t pinpoint it (he refused to), but he was aware it was there. He knew it would only grow if he continued to humor this deeply neglected and ignored part of him. He left that side of himself alone for a reason; some wish-upon-a–star that it would just disappear with time and it hadn’t. God, he hated that it hadn’t. 

Before he can make up enough excuses against it, he takes a quick drag before mindlessly handing the cigarette to his left. He doesn’t look over at the other man but feels him take the joint between two of his fingers before he makes the conscious decision to let go. Maverick takes a slow drag and Ice forces himself to keep looking out at the ocean, and not turn to see the way his wingman’s throat moves and lips part. 

“Thank you.” Ice breaks the silence to break his mind away from his thoughts. He sees a soft smile spread across Maverick’s face before he opens his mouth.

“What for?” He glances over to look at Ice, but he keeps his eyes locked on the view ahead. 

“Being there today.” He wasn’t going to lie; he had his doubts. He saw the effect Goose’s death had on Maverick and it was reaffirmed when Maverick nearly disengaged out there today. But he re-engaged and saved both his and Slider’s lives, and for that, he didn’t deserve Ice’s doubt. 

“You said that on deck.” Maverick takes another drag before letting out a soft chuckle and in that second, Ice thinks that might be his favorite sound in the entire world. 

“For saving Slider.” Maverick turns his head fully and Ice can’t help but turn with him. Ice can see the flashback playing through Maverick’s head and he knows he couldn’t imagine losing his RIO. His best friend in the world. “I think we’d both be dead if you weren’t there.” Maverick’s face is open and understanding before it shifts into something a bit more lighthearted as he turns back to the black abyss.“I don’t know…” Maverick shrugs before continuing, “I think you’re one hell of a pilot.” Ice can’t stop the small grin that reluctantly paints his face. He leans his forearms back on the railing, shaking his head lightly and he silently curses the fact that they won’t be together anymore. Six weeks of annoying rivalry and quiet moments which have now been reduced to only a memory in the back of Ice’s mind. He hates that Maverick will probably forget about him. About what they did. Maybe they could have had more time just being friends; although Ice isn’t sure if that would be a blessing or daily torture treatment when having to see him with her.

[lostfracturess]

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me." SHUT UP YOU KNOW NOTHING???? SHE'S BASICALLY VOICING YOUR THOUGHTS GOJO 😭😭😭😭 why is he so pathetic 😭

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything." my beautiful strong girl i love you so much and i fucking know how bad and destroyed she feels at the moment, betrayed and broken 😭😭😭

"But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there" nuh uh use your fucking mouth for purpose for once in your life or i swear to god gojo-

"Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence" yeah like you're able to keep your hands to yourself when it comes to her

He sighed. "You're the absolute worst patient ever." THAT'S SO FUNNY 😭😭

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings." such a romantic ❤️

"Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—" FINALLY! FINALLY A DECENT THOUGHT! YES SATORU WE ARE ON A RIGHT WAY

"Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building" HOORAY FINALLY LET'S GOOOO

"She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her" my future wife??? i am sorry???? WHAT ABOUT ALL OF THIS HEART WRENCHING STUFF???? i knew it would end like this gojo.

"She was staring down — right at me" is this a Shakespeare's scene or what 😭😭😭 romeo and juliet 😭😭😭

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it." i love her so fucking much gojo you better apologize on your knees or she will be taken.

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void." the way she's exposing him EVERY TIME.....she knows him so well and loves so much it hurts

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness." gojo i love you so much but please don't act as you're not the one to blame for this emptiness 😭😭

"Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away" the way he craves every emotion from her and validates it, i think at this point there's nothing wrong she could do in his eyes😭😭😭 he just can't be without her

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it." NO PLEASE PLEASE IT'S HOT VERY HOT BUT I AM BEGGING YOU TO COMMUNICATE 😭😭😭😭 IF THEY WON'T TALK AGAIN AFTER IT I THROW MYSELF DOWN FROM THE CLIFF

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—" why does he think he can say such a thing 🤨🤨🤨 is he immortal or what, and here i thought he really would be apologising

"My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day" dummy 😭😭

"Weren't together anymore after all" EXCUSE ME??? YOU'RE DEEP INSIDE HER, ALREADY PLANNED YOUR WEDDING DAY, AND NOW SAYING YOU'RE NOT TOGETHER.... he's driving me insane

"Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile" that's SO HOT 😭

"My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive." actually i don't feel this way 🧐🧐🧐 she seems very composed yet she's reckless but not to that case, i feel like she might be up to something, but not to the extent of satoru

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?" and that's true 😭

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us." my knees are weak 😩

this whole scene made me feel Something ™ the the tension, their exposed emotions, their... everything 😭😭😭 finally he gets choked too

but his messy head??? one time he's calling her his wife and then saying we're not together anymore...i feel so confused, WHAT is he thinking 😭😭 gojo get a therapist i swear 🙏🙏🙏

the scene in his office's bathroom is definitely one of my favourite, so beautifully and thoroughly crafted, you're really a master 😭😭😭 just i thought the writing couldn't be better you amaze me!!!

thank you again for the chapter, sending you a lot of love and inspiration, have a nice nice vacation!!!!!

hello and welcome to part three !!

SHUT UP YOU KNOW NOTHING???? SHE'S BASICALLY VOICING YOUR THOUGHTS GOJO 😭😭😭😭 why is he so pathetic 😭

gojo panicked pretty quickly there as she was lying bare his worst behaviors traits haha !!

nuh uh use your fucking mouth for purpose for once in your life or i swear to god gojo-

gojo logic be like, can i silence her with a kiss? no? ehhhem then ... probably fuck her to silence her?? also no?? ehhemmem then i'm out of options 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

such a romantic ❤️

the romantic doctor we all need hehe. but also i think this is such a cute thing of him?? like okay this girl hates me like crazy right now, but she would love to do this insane surgery, so i'll talk suguru into it so that she would have something to be happy about again 😭😭

my future wife??? i am sorry???? WHAT ABOUT ALL OF THIS HEART WRENCHING STUFF???? i knew it would end like this gojo.

he's in heavy denial 😂😂😂

the way she's exposing him EVERY TIME.....she knows him so well and loves so much it hurts

she really is like, okay you fucker, you want to got there again?? then let me tell you how stupid you are, i'm not getting tired of this 😂😂 but yeah, she really sees through his crap and all that and wants to make him see it too.

the way he craves every emotion from her and validates it, i think at this point there's nothing wrong she could do in his eyes😭😭😭 he just can't be without her

he's a SIMP !! and you're right, there is really nothing she could do that would make him not love her 💔😭

NO PLEASE PLEASE IT'S HOT VERY HOT BUT I AM BEGGING YOU TO COMMUNICATE 😭😭

idk i just love how they are insulting each other at this point, like they're both insane 😂😂

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—" why does he think he can say such a thing 🤨🤨🤨 is he immortal or what, and here i thought he really would be apologising

it's really just a defense mechanism of him, but yes, he was really into the moment lol, and probably overdoing it A LITTLE BIT 😩😩

"My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive." actually i don't feel this way 🧐🧐🧐 she seems very composed yet she's reckless but not to that case, i feel like she might be up to something, but not to the extent of satoru

he definitely senes something from her but no omg she's never on the same level as gojo, that would be wild 😂😂 but she definitely changed a bit while being with him.

this whole scene made me feel Something ™ the the tension, their exposed emotions, their... everything 😭😭😭 finally he gets choked too

so glad it landed well for you !! i think i was expecting the scene to hit more, because i never wrote smut out of the male pov but apparently it did not so much for me but maybe it's just me being critical about myself again idk. anyway, glad you enjoyed !!

the scene in his office's bathroom is definitely one of my favourite

you mean when he overdosed? lol i actually envisioned this scene in his APARTMENT 😂😂 but apparently i never really wrote WHERE they are so it also makes sense for him to be in his office lol. 

because in his apartment it would be clear that she comes to his home after the whole mess to check in on him or like talk or whatever and that would be sweet but also make it more heartbreaking for her to find him so lifeless and all, but apparently i fucked that up 😂😂😂😂

but really girl, reading your reactions to the chapter is really so funny for me !! thank you so so much for taking your time to do that, and thank you for your well-wishes. have a good day or night and a lovely week dear ❤️❤️

[milflewis]

Angsty yukierre + ''I don’t give myself in bits and pieces, you get me wholeheartedly, fully... Or not at all.'' 

Valtteri checks his phone, the screen lighting up for a moment, before his jaw ticks and he shoves it back in his pocket. Pierre watches him in the lift’s mirrored wall. He swallows, and then swallows again, trying to get his throat to unstick.

They have twenty more floors to go.

Pierre hadn’t showered last night, collapsing into bed, half on top of Yuki despite his grumbling squirms, drunk on the end of the season’s celebrations and the feel of Yuki’s naked skin against his. He hadn’t showered this morning either. Not after waking to Yuki already half dressed and bright eyed and I can’t stay, early flight. I think they want me dead, Pierre. Only explanation.

He must have seen something on Pierre’s face then because something in his shuttered close and his eyes got brighter and smile wider. He’d thrown Pierre’s jumper at him, following it quickly with a hug and small hands squeezing his shoulders. He’d glanced between them, eyes dragging down Pierre’s bare chest, sly, and said: Eh, I was half right about that boyfriend feeling. Pierre had only laughed, not sure what else to do, which had seemed enough to cover up whatever Yuki had seen moments before.

This all lead to Pierre standing in a lift with Valtteri Bottas, who did not look happy. Pierre shifts on his feet, trying not to make a face as Yuki’s cum flakes dry and gross across the inside of his thighs. A warm washcloth could only do so much.

“Any plans for the winter break?” Pierre tries, never any good with silences, especially if the other person is clearly annoyed, even if he’s pretty sure they’re not annoyed with him.

Valtteri inhales, looking up at the ceiling, which is also mirrored. He looks spectacularly unimpressed. Pierre wonders if he practises this look. “Yes,” Valtteri says, shortly and cut off, and then, after a few beats, somewhat gentler, “You?”

“I did.” Pierre had come up with some tentative half tangible ideas last night, face tucked into Yuki’s neck, of the two of them somewhere hot and melting and alone. Or maybe he’d have followed Yuki back to Japan, get him to show him whatever Yuki thinks is worth seeing, meet his friends that have been scattered across countless of stories. Or Yuki could’ve come with Pierre when he travelled back home. He’d have fit in with Pierre’s brothers. “Will probably see Charles. Play COD. Train. Go swimming.”

Valtteri looks at him for a second before smiling, mouth quirking up at the corners. “A quiet one,” is all he says.

Pierre shrugs. They’re at fifteen floors now.

He doesn’t know Valtteri. Not like he knows Charles or Yuki or Esteban. Or even George or Lando. He was too many years above Pierre, too far ahead in his career for them to overlap coming up, and now with both of them in Formula One, they’re too different to bother trying to connect. Their one common interest, apart from racing, is Lewis, and Pierre doesn’t like to think about the ugly feeling that can sit heavy in his stomach sometimes when Valtteri captures Lewis’s attention just by walking into the room.

He doesn’t know Valtteri. And the times he notices him, he doesn’t even really like him, despite those reasons not being about him. His toes curl in his shoes. He wonders if he tucked his nose into the crook of his elbow if he’d smell like Yuki.

“Yuki fucked me last night,” he finds himself saying, distantly. Valtteri’s eyes go wide and startled, very blue in the mirror, before he’s turning to look at Pierre.

“It was good. Really good. And I was going to tell him that, that, that I love him? But then he said it was nothing.” Pierre pauses. That’s not fair. “He said we were half boyfriends. Which is the same thing. I think.”

“Half boyfriends,” Valtteri repeats, face a little slack.

“Yes. That can’t be a good thing?”

“Um.” Valtteri looks around the empty lift. Pierre wants to yell at him, to grab him by the elbows and shake until the amazing person that he must be hiding away that made Lewis fall in love with him or something appears in front of Pierre and solves all his problems. He thinks he might be dying. Yuki does not love him. Yuki wants him but doesn’t love him and Pierre might be dying.

“No,” Valtteri says, slowly, face smoothening out. “It probably isn’t. I’m sorry.” And then he says nothing else.

“You’re sorry?”

Valtteri shrugs, glancing around again as if people were just going to magically appear. “Yes? Sounds shit.”

Floor ten.

Pierre stares at him.

Valtteri chews at the inside of his cheek before saying, “Listen, Gasly — Pierre — I’m not very good with this. I would’ve thought Yuki would be all over you, honestly. That’s what Lewis said anyway.”

The joy at hearing that Lewis speaks about him, especially to someone Lewis likes so much, is dampened by how fucking useless Valtteri is being.

“Right,” Pierre replies because, well, he had thought so too, hadn’t he?

Floor five.

“What do I do now?”

Valtteri grimaces, forehead twisting. “Uh. Live with it?”

Pierre gives him a look and Valtteri looks right back.

Ding! And the doors slide open. The lobby is empty apart from a couple checking in at the front desk, the woman with her arm slung easily around the waist of the guy beside her.

“Okay, just,” Valtteri catches Pierre with a hand around his elbow, palm dry and warm. “Don’t sleep with him again. That’s not — that’s not a good idea. Trust me.”

Pierre looks at the pink in his cheeks and the twitch in his eyebrows. Who, he wants to ask. Who. Who. Who.

“Decide what you want and stick with it.” He squeezes his fingers, thumb digging into the soft skin of Pierre’s elbow. “Good luck,” and then he’s gone.

—

Lorenzo leans forward, frowning. His hands are flat on the table between them. “But you don’t do casual.”

“Ah,” Pierre says, sitting back in his chair. He looks away and out over the Monaco harbour, squinting into the glittering glimmer off the water and the shine of the perfect yachts. “It isn’t — I mean, that’s not —“

He stops. He has never been able to lie to Lorenzo. Not even when they were children. There is a reason Lorenzo is talking to Pierre about this and not Charles.

“Pierre,” Lorenzo says, soft and careful, like he’s plucking a petal off of a flower. Pierre glances at him. He’s smiling a little, fond. “You do not do casual. This is not a bad thing. It is not a good thing. It is just how you are. This is okay.”

Pierre swallows. One petal. He loves me. Two petals. He loves me not.

“And, anyway,” Lorenzo declares, eyebrows raised. “Even if you are casual, you are definitely not with Yuki.”

Pierre chucks the grapes from his plate at him as he laughs.

—

“I need,” Pierre inhales slowly, the steam from Yuki’s shower seeping into his hotel room from the open door, warming the air. Yuki watches him from where he’s standing by the other side of the bed, trackpants low on his hips, towel slung around his shoulders. He’s using another to scrub through his hair, bicep flexing.

There’s a light mark in the dip of his collarbone, fading into purple. Pierre licks his lips, remembering how Yuki shuddered beneath him, tight short trembles like he was trying to hold them back.

It is with this sense memory that Pierre continues. “I need more.” He stops, frustrated.

Yuki doesn’t say anything, towelling his hair a little longer before throwing it over the back of a chair. He bends down to grab a clean pair of socks from his suitcase. His back is broad and unmarked save for a few long pink scratches.

Pierre looks down at his hands. He needs to cut his nails. He twists his fingers into the sheets until his knuckles show bone white through his skin.

“Okay,” Yuki says, finally, the word even. He flops onto the bed beside Pierre, not touching him, and pulls on his socks. They’re dark blue, almost navy, and plain.

“Okay,” Pierre repeats, Okay is good. Okay is not arguing. He can work with okay.

“And you — do you need more too?” He scrambles. He doesn’t mean to make his thing — his want to have more than what Yuki is giving him — about Yuki. Because, well, it is about Yuki, like most things Pierre wants nowadays, whether Pierre likes it or not, but it’s also not about Yuki. Lorenzo was right. Pierre is not built for this. “I mean you do not have to. Obviously. Of course. But, but that would be — if you did — yes. I would. This — it would be good. Maybe,” he trails off at the look on Yuki’s face.

It’s complicated and hard to read which Pierre hates, especially when it’s Yuki looking like that.

“Right,” Yuki says, and Pierre doesn’t know what to do with his voice either. “Make things easier, yes? If I want it too.”

Pierre laughs, rubbing his knuckles roughly into the centre of his chest, trying to dislodge the stone that has stuck itself in there. “Probably.”

Yuki glances at the door before releasing a sharp breath. “Okay. I do too.”

Pierre exhales, grinning. The world feels right again. He knows where he stands and he likes it.

“Cool. Great! I just — I was not able to do it piece by piece, you know? I wanted — I wanted it all. I wanted all of you.”

Yuki stills, eyes sharpening. “All of me.” It doesn’t sound like a question but Pierre answers it anyway.

“Yes? Not that there’s much there,” Pierre jokes, unable to not make a crack at Yuki’s height. He lifts a hand and holds it at stomach level.

Yuki closes his eyes before he shakes his head, something in his face loosening. He looks angry.

“You’re an idiot,” Yuki says, voice tight. “I thought — I thought — you said —“ He swears in frustration, dropping his towel. Pierre lowers his hand.

Yuki crosses the room quickly, climbing into Pierre’s lap. His hands are hot and small on Pierre’s cheeks. They do not shake but Yuki is trembling slightly. Pierre holds him still at the waist.

“I thought you only wanted —“ Yuki cuts himself off, frowning. He leans in, digging his left knee into Pierre’s hip.

Oh, Pierre thinks. This is what you look like when you’re afraid.

“This is me wanting all of you,” Yuki says, and kisses him.

[fegirl1]

Thought I'd post my Lies of P OC, though I still have her bio in the works and will update her image later once I add the finishing touches! I also can't stress enough on how I had to look at the fashion of the era the game's based on, and I'm not that good with detailed clothing and such, but I'll keep trying XD

Even though I don't have the game yet, I've been watching streamers play the game (mainly Shenpai's streams), read as many PxOc/Reader fics as I can find, and various vids of the game (cause idc that I spoiled myself cause that's how it is with me with souls-like games), I got myself invested in the game!

Name: Lillian Porter Nicknames: Lily, Lil Age: Same as P's Gender: Female Weapon: Rapier Likes: N/A Dislikes: N/A (Will update later) Family: Mother, Father, Leia (Older sister apart by 2 years), Uncle Hobbies: Play the piano, read Love Interest: P

Bio

Born in a loving family, Lillian had a happy childhood. She loved her older sister, Leia, and would do all kinds of things together with her like play the piano, sing, read, and play together. When Leia came of age, she was to be married to a man named Adam, which both families arranged.

However, on the night before the wedding, three masked thugs broke into the Porter estate and began to attack the family! Lillian and Leia fled to a secret room they call their "hideaway" , which they discovered in their room during their childhood, while their father fought against their attackers. To their horror, they heard gunfire along with the horrified screams of their mother, before her screams were silenced. After what felt like a half hour of silence, Leia told Lillian to stay hidden as she would go check to see what has happened, much to her younger sister's protests. She left the hidden room and was about to leave their bedroom when the thugs walked in, parts of their clothes covered in blood, along with their weapons. Lillian peeked through the crack of the door and silently watched in horror as one of the men took off his mask, revealing to be none other than Adam himself!

"…Why did you do this…?" Leia asked with a shaky breath.

Adam sneered as he told her that he only agreed to the marriage so he could get the deeds to the estate so his family can sell it and get the money from the sale. He never loved her and then shot her with his shotgun. Then he and his goons try to find Lillian, but they never found her and as dawn was about to rise, they left. After a good while, Lillian came out and went to her dead sister's body, wishing that this was all a nightmare. She then went downstairs to find her mother and father's dead corpses in her father's den. The vault that had the estate's deeds inside were now empty, along with the stuff that was stored in there. She wept and asked herself why this had to happen! Why did such a horrible fate befall on her beloved family? She asked herself that and many other questions before her uncle and the police came that morning, thanks to a passerby who heard the noise from last night. She explained what happened and when the police stormed into Adam's house, he and his family were nowhere to be found…

After the funeral of her parents and sister, Lillian stayed with her uncle and learned how to defend herself as her uncle learned how to fight from his travels overseas. She swore to herself to find Adam and avenge her family! The clues she followed of their whereabouts eventually led her to Krat 3 years later, not knowing about the disaster that had befallen upon the city… ------- Disclaimer: Lies of P belongs to  Neowiz Games and Round 8 Studio!

I only own my OCs! DO NOT STEAL/EDIT/TRACE MY WORK!