#visage (strange but not a stranger)

[hereforthesteddie]

Was Steve Harrington named for Steven Harrington aka Steve Strange of the band Visage and the New Romantic scene?

Can't be a coincidence given his taste, right?

[sofiiel]

I feel like I am late to the party, I just found moms old visage album saw Steve Strange listed on it:

Stephen John Harrington, otherwise known a Steve Strange, was born in the spring of 1959, the same year and spring of the Creel Murders in Stranger Things. He was a synthpop artist. He took a break in 1986 and started back up in 2002.

Not only that, but he was also Bi, so it's further Steddie vibe.

How late am I to this party? Years? Like, since the birth of stranger things and I never noticed this? Please tell me I'm not the only one.

You want to know what's worse? My mom has a Visage album. I've heard it more time than I can count - still never noticed.

[freak1ish]

Lupin tag dump. ( Based on various song lyrics and tags I thought up myself )

/ I'm finished making sense / ( Musings/ Ramblings )

/ What if I say I am not like the others / ( Introspection's )

/ The page is out of print / ( Open starters )

/ Done pleading ignorance / ( Answered asks )

/ Same old story / ( Asks )

/ In my reflection I see signs of psychosis / ( Visage )

/ I think I'm dyin' nursing patience/ ( Mannerisms )

/ I am afraid you are out of look / ( OOC )

/ A appreciate for the strange and bizarre / ( Aesthetics )

/ Forever scarred / ( Real face )

/ Think I need a devil to help me get things right / ( Main default verse )

/ I'm the voice inside your head you refuse to hear / ( Sandman/ DC comics verse )

/ This could take all night / ( Supernatural verse )

/ I'm getting tired of starting again / ( Strangers things verse )

/ There is evil inside / Buffy the vampire slayer verse )

/ Hiding in plain sight / ( Marvel verse )

/ What have I become my sweetest friend / ( Dragon age verse )

/ Cracks in the mirror / ( Wednesday verse )

/ I'll change your appearance and heal your wounds for a price / ( Grisha verse )

/ Into the void / ( Queue )

[witchakookoo]

tag dump.

[sarahsartistportfolio]

Some MORE sagau since my last post did some numbers and its given me confidence which feels nice.😌

This is completely self indulgence. And because it is the "you" referred to here is female. Slight yandere vibes but my intention was not cult au.

Albedo is the first to notice the unusual amount of shooting stars in the sky. There's never been this many meteorites in such a short span of time. Especially in Mondstadt. As Albedo observes another cluster of stars through his telescope, he notices this time the stars aren't all a bright white but of many different colors. Purple, gold, green and blue. Albedo notes how the sky melts and bends into these different colors too. Its all so strange but fascinating to him. He keeps his eye on the horizon, takes notes, but holds onto hope none of this spills any bad news.

Its Venti who catches you falling from the sky. Of course its him. It has to be him, at least he tells himself this. Its Venti who lays your head in his lap as anxiety and confusion reflects on his face. He gently runs his fingers over your forehead, brushing your hair out of the way. Only to see the sallow cut on your head leaking glittering golden blood. His hand flinches back as he thinks "They've arrived." He delicately holds you in his arms, as his thoughts race through taking you to the seven, which he assumed is the safest option. When you open your eyes. Your brain is fuzzy and your eyes are heavy but you can still make out Venti's visage. "Venti?" Your horse and rough voice manages, but you speak his name in more so disbelief. You let this stranger hold you as your arms are far too weak to push him away. And its Venti whose heart races as he realizes hes the first person you see. The first name you ever speak in Teyvat. His grip tightens as he swears to himself to keep you safe, to watch over you until your full power returns. "You...you really smell like apples." You smile weakly at him, body leaning into his embrace, closing your eyes enjoying the warmth he radiates. "You really do smell like apples." you repeat and Venti. is. beaming.

Venti becomes your comfort in this new world you've been thrust into. You find yourself hiding behind him when you're introduced to new people, holding his hand whenever you're anxious. Venti becomes quite proud that you seek out his presence so much. When you do start to become more brave, venturing out of Mondstadt, spending more time with Zhongli, Ei and Nahida. Venti finds himself becoming uncharacteristically jealous. His grip on you is never tight but it shows through his "You'll leaving already?" and "There's no reason to travel to Liyue/Inazuma/Sumeru ect you can do that here in Mondstadt." He treasures wearing the title of your first and closest friend and doesn't want anyone to replace him. And as you sit with him in the tavern again, making sure he fulfills his promise of writing a song for you, he finds himself getting terribly distracted by your eyes. Hoping he could become more than your dearest friend.

Venti's worship is friendly, playful, almost suffocating but in a good way.

Its Zhongli who becomes your second shadow. As soon as the overexcited bard announces your arrival to the present archons his heart skips a beat. Century after century he has heard stories of your power, your beauty, your grace. And some how he has lived long enough to see you in the flesh. His heart is racing as he waits for you to enter the room. And when you do, your hand in Venti's as he cheerfully introduces you to the geo archon. Zhongli's eyes widen for just a split second before he calmly attempts to regain his composure. He bows low, elegantly, although his knees threaten to give way. "Welcome back your grace." Your presence is otherworldly, ethereal. Your eyes bleed into the ever changing colors of the sky. And while maybe for a short time in the beginning Zhongli questioned himself, why you would return in such a small weak form. But that thought quickly left him, the longer he heard the unwavering kindness in your voice and the warmth of your smile. He was convinced he saw celestia its self within you.

Any and every time you step into Liyue, Zhongli is by your side. Even when your not in his country Zhongli still makes his presence known. Ever so observant and thoughtful. Helps you learn the names of people and places. Patiently tells you stories of the past over a hot cup of tea. Ever so patient Zhongli. When you playfully, nervously, confess you're a little intimidated by him. He waits. As long as you need. For you to initiate conversation, for you to stand closer to him, for you hold his arm as you take a walk through the city. And even as you continue to favor that childish drunken bard, Zhongli knows you would choose him. Maybe not today, but he will keep trying. Patiently demonstrating the upmost consideration so when the time comes for you to choose a spouse you will choose him. Zhongli convinces himself that out of the seven its him who deserves to be by your side. The patiently, gentleman Zhongli, will capture your heart, because who else deserves to spend eternity by your side.

Zhongli's worship is attentive, respectful, quietly fiercely loyal.

When Childe overhears the other fatui members whispering "There are rumors the god of Teyvat has arrived in Mondstadt. Taking on the form of a beautiful young woman." he stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening. He stops the informant demanding more details. Its Childe who has to show the most restraint in his entire life when the you agree to meet with the fatui harbingers. Your expression cold as you greet each member, your voice curt and short not entertaining a longer conversation. Childe has to fight back a grin when he first sees you and hears your voice. The sound immediately familiar to him. His heart racing, fingers twitch to touch you, hold you, to thank you over and over again. When your eyes finally land on him your expression quickly changes. You smile brightly, "Childe" you call his name is such an affection manner it makes his knees weak. The sweet sound throwing his mind back to when your warmth surrounded him in that dark pit. He finds himself dropping to knees before he even thinks, his head low and gaze to the floor to hide the tears threatening to slip. "The Fatui await your every command your grace."

Childe becomes your friend, easily, naturally. Even if you can not remember comforting him in the abyss. The other harbingers are completely dumbfounded why out of all of them you choose to spend all your time with Childe. And Childe is so prideful about it. He becomes infatuated with you. Learns every little thing about you. Falls in love with you. His world seems lighter, brighter whenever he speaks with you. He becomes addicted to your laughter. Wants it all to himself. Starts to imagine what it be like to be yours, your only. And when you return his feelings, he's elated. And Childe doesn't believe he'll ever let you go, he cant, not when he finally has you in the flesh. No he can't see his life without you in it and he'll keep it that way. No matter what or who threatens his happiness.

Childe's worship is possessive, selfish, brazen, bloodthirsty and warm like a fire comforting you on a cold winter's night.

One more below!

SIKE but no keep reading please

I'm currently in the middle of making some genshin related art and if that interests you maybe you can take a look at my instagram 👉👈

I'm also going write a NSFW sagau piece next. Which will include Xiao(and Venti again, really suddenly have fallen hard for him)🥰 this is my first time dipping my toes into writing characters that are not OCs so I'm trying🙇‍♀️

[sehaedazokla]

robb stark and a witch reader

fem! reader terms and descriptions 

a/n: robb and witch reader you will always be my most beloved…

you have never cared much for human men and hold every intention to continue that tradition with robb stark. despite his own misgivings, robb wishes to offer you all the courtesies a gentleman can provide. not without a tense jaw and a tight hesitation to his body; he has asked your house for assistance and been sent a lady in return. as alluring as your peculiar and haunting beauty is, robb needs men. he is met with equal disappoint in your own eyes – you have been sent to assist the lord of winterfell, not his young heir. neither of you extends a hand in welcome, but robb at least plays the part of a gracious host. no warmth is to be found in your stunning visage.

you find him rather boorish, brutish, unseemly – likely incompetent, having never seen battle. save for the blue of his eyes, brighter and clearer than the sky above. he is offput by your strange customs and odd manner of speaking, alongside the obvious dislike for humans.

your suggestion for a blood pact to seal your allegiance, for example, gives robb pause. he convinces you a signed scroll shall suffice.

sensible and cold, your advice comes to robb in eerie whispers with unimpressed gazes. he discovers quickly you have knowledge of a great many things and does not dismiss your counsel even if he is wary. in the stressful months following his assumption of his father’s role of his absence, it is you whom he finds himself turning to.

when not directly advising robb, your tongue spins unsettling riddles and breaths of valyrian, often cast to robb when he says something you deem foolish. there is no softness in your presence, no need for it. it is practicality that you offer, and practicality that robb is requiring. 

he is left watching as you draw in the world at your whim. your penchant for shadow and flame, how light and dark alike seemed called to dance upon you. the winds of the godswood blow high and crisp as you walk beneath their branches, robb leading you to the weirwood tree his ancestors have prayed to for centuries. light breeze carrying your hair about your face as you are told warnings and wisdoms by voices long since lost to most human ears.

the strangest of strangers to him. unknown and foreign, as distant and cold and lovely as the moon.

save for when you gain the favor of his direwolf, taking long strolls through the castle with the creature at your side. you speak to him in valyrian, and robb cannot tell if grey wind understands your or not. robb is almost childishly jealous of the ease with which the wolf took to you – had all loyalty been discarded at the arrival of this witch?

and rickon and bran do not seem to fear you in the slightest. robb would find this is because you have given them no reason to. your general scorn for humans does not extend to the children, whom time and attention are given to whenever it is asked. you never seek out their company, but always provide it when you can, even if it means leaving robb in the middle of providing counsel.

and perhaps it is both of your innate instincts to parent and protect that you notice in each other as a surprisingly piece of common ground. pensive gazes watching after the other as you both engage with the young boys. robb knows without your saying that you are the eldest of your siblings as well. 

but your efficiency in that department is where your true talents lie. you bloom like nightshade in combat, your skill with a sword almost as terrifying as your eyes. many witches are natural healers, your nature is more destructive than that. you seem more creature than human when you fight. and when bran’s life is on the line and robb is forced to lower his sword, heart clenched and mind racing, he sees blood trickling from the eyes and nose and mouth of bran’s captor.

the man dies quickly, melting to his knees, choking on blood as it spills from his face in crimson rivulets. when robb whips his head to see you, he knows, but cannot prove it because you have collapsed to the ground, faint and then unconscious.

you would keep your oath no matter the price you paid, to serve and protect the starks. it is by your bedside that he waits with anxiously wringing hands, his thick brows drawn together while the maester tries and fails to discern what has befallen you. the fire in the hearth flickers lowly as the night drags on, each moment that you do not wake worsening robb’s concern. grey wind curls himself by the hearth, resting among the furs.

you wake with tired blinks and a hazy memory, the first words that come from your hoarse throat ask after the safety of robb’s young brother. robb is a turbulent wreck of emotions: relief at your waking, frustration at his reliance on you in a time of trouble, gratefulness for protecting bran, anger at your quickness to do something that seemingly put yourself in danger.

 when you stubbornly and coldly remind him of your promise to serve him, he grips the sheets of your bed in a tight ball as he leans towards you with pained and frustrated worry.

“your life is not mine. do not be so reckless, i order it of you.”

[valeriianz]

Hiii @embroiderling here. For the way you said I love you, can I ask for 31? Or 27. Or 25 😂 all the options are so good 💖

Thank youuuu

Helloooo! So nice to see you after so long! haha 31: In awe, the first time you realised it also, reincarnation au :D

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

“I love you.”

The stranger looks twice at Hob, a beautiful expression of bafflement making his eyes pop.

Hob blinks, the words coming back to him.

“Sorry,” Hob laughs, breathless. He feels a flush growing up his neck. “That just– came out of me. I don’t– here–” Hob scrambles to get his feet flat on the ground and heft himself up halfway, extending a hand to the man he’d crashed into… who looks achingly familiar.

The man, who Hob takes in properly now, hesitantly takes Hob’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up from the ground, standing now on unsteady legs. They carefully walk out of the bike lane and onto the slightly congested sidewalk. Hob realizes he doesn’t have his scooter until his hand shoots out to catch the thin, gorgeous man, by the elbow as he wobbles a bit.

“Careful.” Hob offers a smile but it feels broken. “You okay?”

The man looks up from the point where they are touching, back to Hob, absolute shock and something like recognition glinting in his eyes.

Hob’s breath catches when he sees that the man is crying. Beautiful blue eyes shine and overflow down pale skin and strikingly sharp cheekbones.

“What’s wrong?” Hob’s grip tightens slightly on the man’s arm while the other hovers between them.

“I don’t know…” The man finally speaks with a voice that sounds like heaven. His fingers shake as he wipes away the tears on his face. “I just feel like…”

His low vibrato cracks as he looks back at Hob.

“Feels like I’ve been waiting an eternity to hear you say that.”

Hob’s jaw drops and his heart soars.

“What’s your name?”

“Dream.”

Hob huffs out a disbelieving laugh.

“It’s– It’s so crazy. I knew that.” Hob laughs properly now at the smile that tugs up the corner of Dream’s lips. “Do you know me? What’s my name?”

Dream’s brows pinch together as he seems to study Hob.

“... Hob.”

The smile that cracks through Dream’s composure is enough to send pin pricks up Hob’s spine, tickling the back of his neck, not to mention how incredibly strange and yet familiar this all seems. Like he’d looked at those crystal blue eyes a hundred times, in a hundred different lifetimes, a hundred different emotions reflected in them.

Then Dream laughs. A bark of laughter that he immediately covers with his hand and finally, for the first time since Hob spoke to him, looking away, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“What’s so funny?” Hob’s smiling so wide he feels his eyes squint.

“I don’t know!” Dream nearly screeches, his visage morphing through something like the five stages of grief before smiling again.

“But…” Dream manages to get himself under control, looking around at the people walking past them, the buildings towering over them, and back to Hob. “It’s a very strange name.”

It feels like an excuse, or some explanation that at least makes sense.

“I love your laugh,” Hob blurts out, feeling more present, all the sudden.

Dream sighs, his body relaxing, like he’s committed to whatever is happening… acquiescing to it. 

“I know you do.”

Hob grins. This is insane.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

Dream’s breath seems to catch, his eyes flicking up and down.

“I feel like you owe me a lot more than dinner.”

Hob laughs again, emotion welling on inside his throat and making his own eyes begin to burn.

“I’m going to make it up to you. God. What is happening right now?”

Dream merely shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and looking around them.

“Are you free tonight? Eight o’clock?”

Hob nods, excitement– like a child, rushes through his veins.

“Let’s meet here,” Dream points to the ground. “... again, if you’re serious.”

Hob nods again. “I’ll be here.”

“Good,” Dream takes a long breath, his eyes seem to burn, instantly watching Hob. “I will see you again.”

An unconscious grin splits across Hob’s face.

“You will.”

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SIX

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: Two separate encounters with two different Firebenders yield revelations of the sort you are unprepared to face.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 8.4k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: i have been writing like crazy recently AHAHA but anyways apologies in advance to anyone expecting anything different from this 😫

“I’m so sad that the break is over. It wasn’t nearly long enough,” Jia-Li said as the two of you returned to your room for the first time since you had left it for Ember Island.

“Our beds look a lot smaller in comparison to the ones on Ember Island,” you said. Jia-Li snorted.

“That’s for sure. And did the room shrink while we were gone?” she said.

“It definitely looks like it,” you said. “At least we don’t have class until tomorrow.”

“Do you think Ty Lee is back yet?” she said. “We should go to the market. It’ll be fun.”

“I should probably do some reading so that I’m ready for tomorrow,” you said.

“Don’t be a spoilsport! I doubt you forgot anything in the short time we were gone, seriously. You’ll be okay if you skip out on reading for one day and come enjoy yourself with the rest of us,” Jia-Li said.

You gave the stack of books on your desk a longing look before nodding firmly, knowing Jia-Li was right, and furthermore that Ty Lee would agree with her. It was just as important for you to socialize as it was for you to study hard, and going to the market wasn’t so time-consuming that it would leave you unable to do anything for the rest of the day.

“Alright, but only if you don’t complain about me reading tonight,” you said. “The book I’m on currently is really interesting.”

“What’s it about?” Jia-Li said.

“The history of Ba Sing Se,” you said. “Since I was found there, I thought that learning more about it might spark some memories in me. All things considered, it’s not as boring as one might expect. The chapter I’m about to start is on the royal family and the construction of the palace.”

“To be honest, I don’t see how you find that so fascinating, but if that’s what you like, then who am I to stop you? Sure, you can leave the candle burning a bit longer in order to finish your chapter if we get back too late,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said. “You are the best roommate ever.”

“You flatter me,” she said. “Open up, Ty Lee!”

“What if Kaho is the one at the door?” you said, grabbing her hand to stop her from continuing to bang on it. Jia-Li huffed at you.

“She’s not going to be back until the evening. Don’t you remember how much she was bragging about having to stay late to submit her official reports from the meeting and all of that?” she said. You let go of her hand, for you did remember that. Once freed, Jia-Li continued to knock.

“Coming!” a muffled voice said, and then the door was swinging open to reveal Ty Lee, who was standing on her hands for some reason. “Ursa! Jia-Li! What are you guys doing here?”

“We wanted to ask you if you would come to the market with us,” you said, twisting your neck so that she would come into proper perspective. To your chagrin, it did nothing but make you dizzy, so you gave up and decided to just look down on her upside-down visage.

“Sure!” she said, rocking herself onto her feet and standing properly. “How were your breaks?”

“They were good,” Jia-Li said. “Very relaxing, but way too short.”

“We did see you at one point,” you reminded her. Ty Lee giggled.

“Right, at that stupid party! I heard you guys ended up partaking in the festivities, if you’re catching my meaning,” she said.

“Yes, that’s right,” you said. Jia-Li grinned, flames dancing in her palm before she curled her fist and extinguished them.

“It was fun,” she said. “You were on to something, Ty Lee. It was exactly what we needed.”

“Jia-Li’s brother was not happy with us when he found out,” you said. “But it’s fine. He’ll make up with her, I’m sure, and as for me…it’s fine if we never speak again.”

“Onto the next,” Jia-Li said. “It’s alright. You win some, you lose some.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “What about you? What were you up to when you weren’t on Ember Island?”

“Strategizing with Azula, mostly,” Ty Lee said. “You know, she killed the Avatar around when Zuko took over Ba Sing Se.”

“Really?” you said. Ty Lee nodded.

“Yup, I saw it myself! He was about to go all glowy-white-eyes on her, and she just shot him with lightning before he could,” she said.

Killing an Avatar as a normal person was unheard of, and Princess Azula wasn’t even a master yet. She was clearly a prodigy, but you knew from Ty Lee that she was still training, though her training was so advanced that it was theoretically impossible for normal Firebenders such as Jia-Li and even Kaho to accomplish. The fact that she had done something as legendary as defeating an Avatar without full mastery of her element spoke to her skill and talents, and you swore then and there to never get on her bad side.

“That’s insane,” Jia-Li said. “I always knew she was on another level from the rest of us, but I didn’t realize until now just how large that skill gap was.”

“Mhm, but for some reason, she’s gotten to be crazy paranoid recently. She’s convinced that he’s not really dead, and she’s been losing sleep over it,” Ty Lee said. “It’s tainting her victory, and she’s been meeting with Mai and I nonstop on what we should do in case he proves to be alive.”

“It’s better to be prepared than not,” you said. “Though she probably doesn’t have much to worry about. If the Avatar was alive, he probably would’ve made himself known, don’t you think? I doubt it would be easy for an Airbender to hide himself, especially not one as powerful as the Avatar surely is.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her, but she’s still worried,” Ty Lee said. “So my break was mostly work, except for that one weekend on Ember Island.”

“That’s a shame,” Jia-Li said.

“Next break, I’m going to sleep the entire time,” Ty Lee vowed. “Every day I’m at the school serves as a reminder of why I dropped out in the first place, and I need my body and aura to recover from this kind of environment.”

“I always forget you did that,” you said.

“Why’d you come back?” Jia-Li said. “It’s obvious you hate it here, and you have a place in the palace already, so it’s not as though you’re going to climb the ranks socially by attending.”

“Simple! I’m here to keep an eye on Ursa!” Ty Lee said. “Not that she needs it, but Prince Zuko asked me to come along and help her acclimate to the environment of the academy, since we weren’t sure if she’d be able to handle it or not.”

“That’s a lot more logical than you suddenly developing a passion for the scholarly pursuits, which is what I had previously thought was the reasoning,” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever develop that,” Ty Lee said, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll leave the academic stuff to Ursa.”

“Me, too,” Jia-Li said.

“Hey, come on, guys. Reading is fun,” you said, though it was obviously unconvincing, as both of them made faces at you. “Or not, I guess.”

“Let’s stop talking about school, please,” Ty Lee said. “It’s bad enough that we have classes tomorrow. We don’t need to ruin our free time by thinking about them now, too!”

“It’s not a problem for me,” Jia-Li said. “Maybe Ursa will have some difficulty, though.”

“Shut up! No, I won’t!” you said. “You won’t hear me speaking about school for the rest of the outing.”

“Does that include whenever you drop your random little factoids to explain whatever’s going on at any given time?” Jia-Li said.

“Hopefully not,” Ty Lee said. “I’d be way too confused without her narrating everything.”

“True,” Jia-Li said. “Okay, you can talk about those, but no more explicit mentions of the academy. Or of reading. Or of other things along those lines.”

“I already agreed!” you said. “Honestly, you guys have such a low opinion of me. Anyways, do either of you have anything specific to get at the market, or are we just wandering around?”

“Maybe I’ll get a new hair ribbon, but I’m not particularly attached to the idea, so I’m alright no matter where we go,” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t have anything I need, so we can go look at the hair ribbon stalls if you want, Jia-Li,” Ty Lee said.

“It’s the same for me,” you said. “Besides, it’s not like I really have money to spend, which means I’ll just admire the different shops, so I have no particular preference for where we go. Lead the way, Jia-Li; you’d know the market best, anyways.”

“Ty Lee probably knows it pretty well, too,” Jia-Li said.

“Nope, I ran away to join the circus, remember? I haven’t been here for a while! Even when I came back to the palace, I was always with Azula and Mai, and they’re not really the type to enjoy walking around the market, so it’s been a bit,” Ty Lee said.

“Then it really is up to me,” Jia-Li said, straightening her shoulders and nodding firmly. “Follow me, girls!”

You and Ty Lee marched after Jia-Li as she strode towards a stall decorated with hair ribbons of every shade. Some were patterned the way Kaho’s was, whereas others were solid-colored, like the one Jia-Li tended to wear. All of them were beautiful, richly made and finely dyed, and you could not help running your fingers over a few of them in appreciation.

“What do you think of this one?” Jia-Li said, holding up a red ribbon that had white flowers embroidered on it. “The one I have right now is so plain.”

“It’s very nice,” you said.

“I like it!” Ty Lee said. “You should get it.”

“Do you think so? Let’s see. How much is this for?” Jia-Li said. As she began to argue with the merchant about the price, you found yourself wandering off, observing the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, the different vendors and their goods, the mothers with their little children rifling through their purses full of gold coins, the serious soldiers standing at attention in uniform — and the not so serious ones with their helmets off and tucked under their arms as they talked to each other. Though the market was so large in scale, it was more like a collection of small, intimate snapshots of domesticity than a grand, epic portrait woven together out of perfectly conjoined parts.

There were so many different stories happening at once. People cried and laughed and argued and bantered on these streets. They lived their lives, unknowing of what would happen to them next or what those at their sides were going through. It was one of those mundane sort of miracles, the sort that were so commonplace that nobody would find them miraculous unless they stepped back and thought about them for a moment.

“Did you hear the news?” someone said to you. You tilted your head at the woman, who had her hand held in front of her mouth politely. “Apparently, there’s a prisoner on the loose!”

“What? In the capital?” you said. She nodded.

“Word has it that he deserted the army during the fall of Ba Sing Se and was promptly captured by Prince Zuko, who sent him to prison. But now he’s escaped! It’s all so frightening,” she said. “Be careful. You’re a student at the academy, aren’t you? My daughter is in her first year there, so I recognized the uniform. You should hurry back to the campus — it’s much safer there.”

“Thank you for the warning,” you said. “I hope you stay safe as well, madam.”

It had been an odd encounter, but for some reason, it wasn’t the random nature of the conversation that made you uneasy. Such things happened at markets, and especially because you apparently went to school with her daughter, it made sense that she had approached you. No, it was the story itself that you were worried about.

The History Mistress had never mentioned anyone deserting the army, besides the former General Iroh. That meant that this escaped prisoner, whoever they were, must’ve been some foot soldier so unimportant that they were not even worthy of the simplest sentence in your lectures, but that begot another question — how had a simple foot soldier escaped a Fire Nation prison?

The haggard man in front of you walked with a limp, and the exposed skin that you could see was littered with scars. Unlike what you would’ve assumed, though, the scars were clearly not from burns. They were cuts, deep lacerations that stood out red and furious against his arms, his neck, his ankles and even his face.

He must’ve been in a terrible battle, but for some reason, no one paid him any mind. The crowds parted around him before melting back together, like he had never been there in the first place. It was only you that followed, you who was entranced, matching his every step with your own. There was some burning desire in you that needed to follow him. You couldn’t place it, couldn’t understand its origin or any part of its existence, but you just knew you had to fulfill it. So you went after the man, growing steadily closer and closer until you could hear what he was muttering to himself.

“Gave everything…fought for that damn prince…what does it get me? Going to kill that girl. Going to kill that girl. What does it get me? Gave everything for that damn prince. Going to kill her. I have to kill her,” he said, over and over, repeating the same phrases on loop.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you alright?” you said when the two of you reached a dead end and the man stood still, facing the wall, continuing to say the same breathless things.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew someone was following me. We Soldiers of Agni, we know these things.”

“Soldiers of Agni?” you said. The man still did not turn around, pressing his hands against the stone wall and resting his forehead against it. “They’re all dead, sir. They fell during the invasion of Ba Sing Se.”

“And don’t I know it!” the man said. “We gave everything for that prince, and what did it lead us to? Death! Death, you foolish girl, all of my comrades are dead! I’m the only one who survived that wench’s onslaught, but instead of being treated as the hero I am, I was renounced as a traitor. Prince Zuko took my status as a Soldier of Agni away, and he threw me in some dungeon to rot. Tell me how that’s fair!”

“I think you’re confused, sir,” you said, stepping away from him, questioning your own instincts for landing you into this situation. Because this was definitely the prisoner that the woman had been talking about, and since that was the case, you were almost certainly in danger. “Prince Zuko would never do something like that. He is a kind and just person. He even saved me!”

He spun around. “He saved — you!”

Before you knew it, there was a blast of fire heading directly for you. You barely leapt out of the way and readied yourself to fight, but even if the prisoner was telling the truth and he really had once been a Soldier of Agni, his reflexes and musculature had faded during his time locked away. No matter how much he tried, nothing but wisps of smoke escaped his hands, and he shouted in fury before rushing at you.

“What are you doing?” you said as you began to run as well.

“I’m going to kill you!” he said, his voice breaking as he did so. “You took everything from me, so I’m going to kill you!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” you said in distress. “I’m just a student at the Royal Fire Academy! I haven’t taken anything from anyone!”

“Is that where you are now, you sly witch?” he spat. “It wasn’t enough for you to destroy us all? You have to infiltrate our nation, too? Get out of here, scum!”

“What are you saying?” you said.

“My comrades are dead because of you,” he said. “I’m in prison because of you. I have to — I have to get justice. If that Agni-damned Prince Zuko really did save you, if he really is just letting you walk around and pretend to be one of us, then the Fire Nation is doomed. I have to do what I must for my country! In the name of Fire Lord Ozai, I will kill you, once and for all!”

“Huh?” you said. “I was a prisoner in Ba Sing Se! I don’t have the faintest clue how I could’ve killed your comrades.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. You don’t have to lie in front of me. I was there, wench. I know what you really are,” he said.

“And what might that be?” you said, skidding to a stop before you crashed into a wall and turning to face him, getting into the hand-to-hand combat stance that you had been trained to adopt at the academy.

“The—” Before he could finish, his eyes widened, and then he was falling over. It was Ty Lee; she had jabbed her fingers into his pressure points in a quick but familiar succession, and now she was standing over him, disapproval etched on her face.

“Ursa! There you are!” Jia-Li said, rounding the corner and almost tripping over the fallen man. “Who is that?”

“He’s an escaped prisoner,” you said. “He claimed he used to be one of the Soldiers of Agni.”

“I thought they were all dead, though?” Jia-Li said.

“They are,” Ty Lee said. “He must’ve been rambling about nothing.”

“Definitely,” Jia-Li said. “What Soldier of Agni would just faint like that for no reason?”

“It wasn’t exactly for no reason. I used my chi-blocking to take him out!” Ty Lee said.

“Chi-blocking?” Jia-Li said as the man groaned, beginning to wake up.

“It’s a pretty useful skill,” Ty Lee said. “All sorts of applications. It can temporarily take away bending, incapacitate people, and more! It’s the way for nonbenders like me to level the playing field and stand a chance even against the strongest of benders.”

“That’s why you aren’t afraid of Kaho!” Jia-Li said.

“Yup!” Ty Lee said.

“Who are you girls?” the man said groggily, pushing himself to his feet.

“I thought you knew who I was?” you said. “You said so yourself!”

“How would he know who you are?” Jia-Li said.

“No idea, but he seemed pretty sure just a second ago,” you said.

“For some reason, I think I do,” the man said. “But I don’t know how or why. There’s just a blank spot in my memories. I can’t — I can’t remember anything.”

“That’s strange,” Jia-Li said.

“He must’ve hit his head when he fell,” Ty Lee said.

“Right,” you said, though when she stooped over to pick the man up and bring him to the nearby soldiers, you narrowed your eyes at her.

You knew that chi-blocking sequence. You knew it well, because Ty Lee had used it on you before, still used it on you even now. You had never questioned it much, never found any merit in doing so. Ty Lee was infamous for being an airhead, so you had always put the strange ritual down as another one of her oddities. But what if it wasn’t? There was no way that the man had hit his head hard enough to forget everything so quickly, especially not when he had been so confident only seconds prior.

The more likely scenario was that Ty Lee had somehow blocked his memories when she had blocked his chi. It made the most sense, but if that really was the case, then what motive did she have to do the same for you? It was uncomfortable thinking about it, but you couldn’t stop the question from reverberating around your mind for the rest of the day.

Was Ty Lee the reason you didn’t remember anything?

That night, when Jia-Li was asleep and you were getting ready to settle in bed yourself, there was a knock on your door. Quickly blowing out the candle and making sure that the door was locked, you leapt into your bed and pulled the covers over your head, squeezing your eyes shut and pretending to be fast asleep.

“Ursa?” It was Ty Lee. “Are you awake?”

You knew what she was there for. It was about the time for her to — if your assumption was correct — block your chi, and possibly your memories. You had never protested, and you didn’t want her to grow suspicious of you in case that led to her taking even more drastic measures, but you also knew you had to avoid her for the time being if you ever wanted to remember who you were.

Just for a couple of days. You only had to stay away from her for a couple of days, and if nothing changed, then you would return to her side and act as if you both were friends once more.

“Are you and Ty Lee fighting?” Jia-Li said the next morning. You were currently suffering from a massive migraine, massaging your temples as you tried to block the light from hitting your eyes, but you managed to shake your head in the negative.

“No, we’re not,” you said. “Why?”

“You didn’t talk to her all morning, and you sat next to me instead of her, the way you usually do. I think she was a little sad about it,” Jia-Li said.

“I just have a really bad headache,” you said.

“Do you need to go to the infirmary?” Jia-Li said. “If you can’t handle class, I’ll tell the Etiquette Mistress. You’re already her favorite pupil, so she shouldn’t mind.”

“No, I’ll go,” you said, knowing that it was of the utmost importance that you didn’t go anywhere alone. It would be an opportunity for Ty Lee to chi-block you again, one you did not need to create, not if you wanted your experiment to be successful. “I’m sure I’ll get over it with something to drink.”

Yet, despite the cups upon cups of water you chugged, it didn’t do anything to dissipate your headache. It was like there was someone pushing on your brow, crushing your head together, the heaviness seeping down behind your eyes and into your jaw. You thought you might be close to implosion, but there was never a moment of relief. The pressure just kept mounting and mounting until you really did wish for someone to take a hammer to your skull and break it open so that you could finally be freed from the pain.

“Ursa, Jia-Li,” Kaho said as you entered the classroom, her voice filled with venom. “I can’t believe you’re daring to show your faces today.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” you said, far too preoccupied with your migraine to temper your irritation with your usual politeness. “We’re students at the academy, the same as you, Kaho.”

“I thought you might be ashamed of yourself after your performance during the break, at Ember Island,” she said.

“What performance?” you said.

“You destroyed my house!” she said. “I know you all did. You and that group of losers from the beach, whoever they were. My brother told me all about it.”

“Your brother’s the biggest fool I’ve ever met,” you said. “Followed closely by Ruon-Jian. Neither of them recognized the prince and princess even when they were right in front of them.”

“Don’t call my brother a fool,” she said.

“It must be a familial trait,” you continued.

“Ursa, what are you doing?” Jia-Li said.

“I have way too much of a headache to deal with her squealing right now,” you said harshly. “Chan is an idiot and we helped destroy her house. It’s true, but it matters little to me, and I wish she’d just go and wallow in her misery somewhere far from where I am!”

“You’re playing with fire,” Jia-Li fretted. “Quite literally.”

“Can you just leave me alone for once, Kaho?” you said.

“You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?” Kaho said. “You’ve taken my spot as the top student, and you’re favored by Prince Zuko, so you believe that makes you my superior. But there’s one thing that you’ll never have.”

“And what might that be? An insufferable attitude, or a particularly hideous—” you were cut off by Jia-Li slapping her hand over your mouth.

“She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Jia-Li apologized. “The migraine is making her delirious.”

Kaho ignored her, staring directly at you, the anger which she was so well-known for blazing to life in her irises. It was the same way she had glared at you after defeating that one underclassman in an Agni Kai. It was the same way she glared at you every time you corrected her in class or got a better result than her on an exam. It was the same way she glared at you whenever you received a letter from Prince Zuko while in the dining hall.

She hated you. You had known this for some time, but you had never understood it until that moment. Kaho despised everything you were, but more than that, she despised that she was jealous of you. She was used to everything going her way, and yet, here you were, a girl who had no memories and no background and no bloodline, taking without difficulty everything that was once hers.

It should never have been yours. To Kaho, you were nobody, a girl from rubble who stole everything from the rightfully deserving. And now here you were, insulting her in front of everyone, clearly rising above the place she had designated for you in her mind. It was an offense of the highest order, and in that instant, you came to the conclusion that you would not escape unpunished. Kaho would no longer allow you to walk over her without retaliation.

“Firebending,” Kaho said. “That’s what I have, and I will always, always be your better, because you can’t even bend.”

“Maybe not,” you said, swallowing and then deciding that if you were already doomed, you might as well have the last word. “It makes it more embarrassing for you, though, doesn’t it? That a nonbender has beat you so thoroughly in everything else? That you can only cling to your bending to maintain your sense of superiority?”

“That’s it,” Kaho said. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“You’ve really done it now, Ursa,” Jia-Li groaned. “Don’t even think of asking me to be your proxy. I don’t have a death wish.”

“I do,” you said. “And I’ll save you the trouble. I challenge you to an Agni Kai, Kaho.”

If an Agni Kai was declared, classes were suspended so that the school could watch. Though they were so brutal in nature, they were actually encouraged by the administration, as they served to weed out the weaker students, leaving behind only the strongest, the best of the best.

At present, the field where you and Kaho were going to fight was utterly cleared, though staff and students alike gathered on the edges to watch the event. It had been anticipated for some time, this clash between the two top students of the academy, even if one of them couldn’t Firebend.

“You’re seriously not even calling a proxy?” Jia-Li said.

“Who would I call?” you said, rolling your shoulders. “She’s beaten every girl at this academy already, and I’m not about to beg the prince to save me.”

“Let go of your pride for once and do exactly that!” Jia-Li said. “You couldn’t even take me in a fight, so you can just forget about facing Kaho.”

“Actually, she can manage,” Ty Lee said grimly. You didn’t know where she had come from, but there she stood, her face set, her posture stiff. “Ursa. I don’t know why he said it, but for some reason, Zuko seemed to think that you were strong. Stronger than the rest of us, in fact.”

“He told me as much,” you said. “I don’t know why he said it, either, but for some reason, I don’t think he was lying. At least, he seemed to really believe it, which means there must be some thought behind it all.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a prodigy with weapons on par with Master Piandao himself!” Jia-Li said. “Against someone like Kaho, you either need to be a bender or have unusual skills the way Ty Lee does. Can you claim either of those things?”

“I don’t know, Jia-Li,” you said. “I don’t think so. Yet I have to do this all the same. She’s gone unchecked for far too long.”

“And you’ll be the one to check her?” Jia-Li said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I wish you had just gone to the infirmary like I had told you to!”

“Let’s go, Jia-Li,” Ty Lee said. “It’s time. Good luck, Ursa.”

Another pang. You forced yourself to smile through the pain, not wanting to show weakness right when you were about to get into a fight. Ty Lee smiled back, though Jia-Li did not muster the same energy, wailing despondently about how she was going to lose another roommate as Ty Lee dragged her off the field.

“This is your last chance, Ursa,” Kaho said. “If you fall to your knees and grovel, if you accept your place in this world, and if you renounce your ties with the royal family, then I will spare you.”

“I cannot do either of those things,” you said. “And you cannot ask me to.”

“I will not be gentle,” Kaho warned. “I was kind in my last Agni Kai, so perhaps you think that you will get off in a similarly unharmed way. If that is the case, then I want you to know that you are wrong. I will burn my victory into your skin so deeply that you can never look into the mirror without being reminded of the day you angered the wrong person.”

“My head is already full of pain, nearly to the bursting,” you said. “What is one more wound? Do your worst, Kaho. Even if I lose today, I will still have won in the end.”

“And how is that?” Kaho said. You grinned at her.

“Because I’ve shown everyone else at this academy exactly the sort of person you are,” you said. “You can’t beat a nonbender at anything else, so you have to challenge them to an Agni Kai in order to cling to the last threads of your former glory. You’re really very pathetic, and no matter how thoroughly you burn me, you can’t change that.”

“Did no one ever teach you to hold your tongue?” Kaho said, taking a deep breath, fire flickering at her fingertips.

“Certainly, at some point, someone must have,” you said. “But I shouldn’t know when or who or what the purpose of the lesson was. Don’t you recall that I have no memories?”

No one could say that Kaho wasn’t talented. The way she used her Firebending was like an extension of herself, as brutal and efficient as her clinical personality. It wasn’t that she was incredibly powerful — she just did not waste even a drop of energy, focusing her entire being into her forms, which were done with a clear accuracy that was difficult to dodge.

She punched a lick of fire at you, deadly hot, the air shimmering in the aftermath of it as it dissipated into nothingness, barely avoiding singing the edges of your clothes. You employed every trick you had learnt, for the longer you could draw out the fight, the worse it looked for her.

It was a game that you could not win. It was a game you were destined to lose, but — and maybe this was your past knowledge speaking — you had to play along. The outcome was determined, but you still had to play.

“Why did you come here?” Kaho screamed, her careful control slipping the more times she missed burning you. It was like her words drove a knife through your head, and the only reason your faltering was not a fatal blunder was because she, too, was growing more and more errant in her strikes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’re the one trying to immolate me!” you said, sweat pouring from your brow, your shirt sticking to your collarbones and your pants clinging to your legs. “Why don’t you raise that question to yourself?”

“You!” she said. “Why are you speaking so elegantly? Are you mocking me?”

“Of all the things, you choose to criticize my manner of speaking? Your sense of prioritization is as horrid as your personality,” you said.

More fire. This time, the hem of your shirt did catch alight, but you put it out before it could reach your skin, so it didn’t count as a first burn. It did, however, mean two things: you were getting tired, and Kaho was losing even more of her composure.

“You came here,” she said. “I was alright before! But you came here and decided that everything I had was yours. My place in society, my standing in the school…the happy ending I was born to inherit has all gone to you!”

“Happy ending?” you said. “Do you think I care about something as superficial and fantastical as that? I don’t even have a beginning! Have you ever taken a second thought about your hatred? You can choose the direction of your life, Kaho. Whether happy or sad or anything in between, you know who you are. I do not have such a luxury. You resent my friendship with the prince, but if I do not have him, I have nothing left of my past! I helped destroy your house, yes, but at least you have a house — and it was only one of many. I don’t even have a shack in the woods to call my own!”

“Exactly,” Kaho said. “You should be begging on the streets, yet you are here. But no longer. No longer will I allow you to exist beside me, as if we are equals.”

Your eyes widened as her words sank in. This wasn’t just an Agni Kai anymore. She would not stop once she burnt you. It didn’t matter how completely; you had been wagering that you could eventually heal from whatever she inflicted on you. But, according to Kaho, she was not planning on you ever healing. She was planning on you dying.

Without Kaho’s fire, the air was almost cold. Goosebumps raised on your bare arms, though whether it was from chill or fright, you were not sure. Kaho was incredibly still, her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, centering herself, drawing strength from the core of her bending — her breath. Everyone else was silent, though you thought you could hear someone, perhaps Jia-Li, repeating a prayer to Agni frantically, begging him to protect you from Kaho’s wrath.

You did no such thing. There was a voice in your head, whispering past the pain, telling you that Agni was not your god. You could not pray to him. You could not pray to a lord of destruction. You could not pray to the deity who had ruined your home.

You did not question this voice, though by all rights it was contrary to the little you knew of yourself. You were a Fire Nation soldier. Agni had not ruined your home, he had saved it. He was the one whose banner you had fought under. He was the one whose name you had been tortured in. He was your patron.

No. He was not. He was Kaho’s. He was Zuko’s. He was Jia-Li’s. But you were not a Firebender. You were something else. What? It was inexplicable, but your bones resonated with that truth as the effects of Ty Lee’s continuous chi-blocking began to crumble, your headache finally alleviating as you had your first breakthrough.

Kaho opened her eyes, and then fire gathered in her palms. You stood your ground this time, rooting yourself into the dirt of the field, and as a wave of fire rolled towards you, destroying everything in its path, you cringed back and screwed your eyelids together but refused to move. This time, you would not move.

Right when the blistering temperature got to be too much, it was cut off, asphyxiated before its source could reach you. Then Kaho was hurling insults at you, calling you a mongrel, a filthy half-breed, a daughter of mud. You cracked your eyes open, wondering why she did not attack you once more, why she had ceased her assault at the instant before she would have won for certain.

There was a large wall of stone erected before you, shielding you from Kaho, impenetrable by even the hottest of fires, which certainly she did not possess. That wall had not been there before, and the names which Kaho was calling you suddenly made sense — because you had created the wall. It was yours.

You were an Earthbender.

Within seconds, every single person that had borne witness to the Agni Kai was slumped over on the ground, including Kaho herself. Ty Lee used her momentum to flip over the wall, dropping to her feet before you and crossing her arms.

“You knew,” you said. “The entire time, you knew.”

“No,” she said. “Not exactly.”

“You’re the one who’s been blocking my memories, though,” you said. “Right? You would block my chi so that I couldn’t remember my past or use my Earthbending.”

“That’s right,” she said, bowing her head. She seemed apologetic, but nothing resembling pity filled you. The only emotion you could muster was disgust.

“Why?” you said. “What could have convinced you to do something like that? I thought we were friends, Ty Lee. Was that all a lie? Were you only staying close to me so that you could keep suppressing my memories?”

“No!” she said. “That was the reason at first, but I like spending time with you, Ursa. You really are one of my friends.”

She reached out as if to embrace you, but you took a step backwards so that she could not. She pulled back as if you had wounded her.

“My name isn’t Ursa, is it?” you said. “Who am I really, Ty Lee? Tell me the truth.”

“I have no idea,” she said. “He didn’t tell me anything about you. He just said it was for the best if you didn’t remember anything. I was so afraid the whole time, I thought Azula might be angry if she found out, but he was always so kind to me when I was younger that I thought I owed him at least this one favor…”

“Who?” you said. “Who is he? Who demanded you keep my memories from me?”

She gave you a miserable look. “Zuko.”

“That liar,” you said. It wasn’t just anger for the specific betrayal; there was some old rage quivering in you. You hated him. You hated him. You couldn’t say why, but you hated him. The ground shook, and Ty Lee glanced around nervously, but you paid her no mind. “He lied to me! He pretended like he cared, but the whole time, he was the one who did it! It’s his fault that I’m like this!”

“Don’t be angry,” Ty Lee pleaded. “I’m sure he had a reason. Just talk to him, and I’m sure he’ll explain!”

“Explain?” you said. “I don’t want to hear his explanations. I want him to pay for what he did!”

Another stake driven into your mind. It was your chi, you presumed, chipping away at the place where your memories were stored. There was still nothing concrete, but a sense of claustrophobia was creeping over you. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to be somewhere else. You were supposed to be doing something, but Zuko — Zuko had snatched you away from that fate.

“Ursa,” Ty Lee said.

“Stop calling me that,” you said. “It’s not who I am.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to call you,” she said, clearly near tears. “Please calm down for a little bit. I blocked everyone’s chi in time; no one will remember this happened, so take the moment to settle and think things over. There’s no rush.”

“You can’t just do that,” you said. “You can’t keep blocking people’s memories at whim. They’re not yours to play with like that. Anyways, won’t they remember again? Are you really going to go around once a week and block everyone’s chi?”

“I was quick enough, and it was a small enough memory, that just one time will be sufficient,” she said. “No one will know what you’ve done, and I promise I won’t block your memories again if you stay.”

“I can’t trust you,” you said, straining with all your might to drive the stone wall back into the ground. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t.”

Dust flew up everywhere, but once it cleared, the field looked placid and undisturbed — barring, of course, the scorch marks left in the wake of Kaho’s attacks.

“What are you going to do now?” she said.

“I’m going to my room,” you said. “You can go ahead and tell Zuko I can Earthbend again. I’m sure you’ve been keeping him updated this entire time, so I won’t stop you.”

“He’ll want to come visit you,” Ty Lee said. And, because you did not want her to get in trouble, because despite what she had done there was still fondness for her buried deep within you, you only sighed and then nodded.

“Then he’ll do just that, I’d expect,” you said. “Goodbye, Ty Lee.”

You weren’t sure if she knew what you meant by the farewell. Maybe she did. For her own sake, you hoped she did not, or at least that she pretended that that was the case. She had in the end only been a tool of Zuko’s, so though you did not forgive her, you did not hate her, either.

Perhaps by a stroke of good fortune or perhaps by design, Jia-Li did not return to the room before dinner. This allowed you to collect your meager possessions, shoving them in the bag you had brought with you to Ember Island. Changing out of your uniform, you bit your lip before placing it in the trash. It was beyond salvaging, and besides, your time as Ursa was over. Now, you had to leave behind the life that the prince had created for you and figure out who you were, what your own life was like.

Fastening a cloak over your shoulders and tossing the hood up over your head to further disguise yourself, you slunk through the dormitory, staying in the shadows and hiding whenever people passed. In that manner, you managed to escape detection, reaching the academy’s aviary before anyone noticed you.

“Bian,” you whispered to your messenger hawk. She was instantly awake, cocking her head at you. You shook your own at her in the negative. “I don’t have a letter for you. There’s no one left for me to write to. I just wanted to tell you something: I’m leaving.”

Even if Bian had once been meant to be Prince Zuko’s, you had difficulty thinking of her as anything but yours. She was your friend, yourhawk, and though she was of the Fire Nation, of your time as Ursa, you could not let her go without saying farewell first, the way you would with the rest of it.

“I can’t tell anyone else,” you said. “It’ll just put them in danger. I can’t even say bye to Jia-Li. She’ll think I just ran away for no reason, and she was too loyal of a friend to deserve that, but I cannot implicate her in my defection from the academy. She’ll be the first they question, and I don’t know that she’ll lie convincingly enough to escape suspicion. So, then, when she says she has no idea where I’ve gone, she has to be telling the truth.”

Bian cooed at you; well, maybe calling the throaty sound cooing was being generous, but there was no other way to describe it, and the sentiment was the same. She was trying, in her own way, to comfort you, and you extended your arms to her perch so that you could rub the soft, tiny feathers of her cheeks.

“Thank you for being my hawk,” you said. “Be good for whoever owns you next — unless it is the prince, in which case I give you full permission to bite his fingers whenever he tries to give you letters.”

With that, you turned around, your hands dropping to your sides as you walked, then ran out of the aviary. If you turned around, you would cry. If you turned around, you might not ever be able to leave, so you sprinted until you reached the stables where the various animals belonging to the academy were kept.

Passing by the sleeping dragon moose and the corral of komodo rhinos, you ducked into the stall of one of the mongoose lizards. Throwing its saddle on, you patted it on the forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you said, swinging on and kicking it forwards. “I promise you can go home once you get me out of the capital.”

The mongoose lizard was fast, but more than that, it was stealthy and could traverse many kinds of terrain. Scuttling through the campus, it climbed the walls at your direction, though it was obviously unsure, as it had been trained not to leave the academy, even when given the opportunity.

Looking up, you saw a shadow cover the moon briefly, and you furrowed your brow as the dark shape came hurtling down towards you. The mongoose lizard continued to dash through the streets of the capital, and you used your hands to shield your face from the incoming projectile.

You needn’t have. At the last moment, it flared its wings, landing gently on your shoulder, careful not to dig its talons into your flesh despite the subsequent loss of balance.

“Bian?” you said. She nipped your shirt collar like she was chiding you for daring to leave without her. You laughed in relief, scratching her crest. “Oh, my dear Bian. I should never have tried to go without you. Thank you for finding me.”

She hopped off your shoulder, sitting on the pommel of the saddle, surveying the terrain with the regal bearing of a figurehead. With her at your side, you weren’t quite as lonely, and though it was selfish of you, you were glad that she had made such a choice, that she loved you enough to follow you away from the comfort of the aviary.

You traveled for a while at top speed, but once the mongoose lizard began to show signs of fatigue, you reined it to a stop. Whistling for Bian, you slid off of the beast. It made a clicking noise at you, and you smiled at it.

“Thank you,” you said. “You have done your job well. You may go back now.”

Without hesitation, the mongoose lizard spun and headed in the same direction it had come from. You didn’t wait, either; the palace certainly had methods to track you, so it would be a folly for you to stay in the same place for too long.

When the search began depended on Jia-Li. If she reported your disappearance immediately, then you were in trouble, but you sensed she would not. You had a habit of coming back to the room later than her, so she’d likely not realize you were gone at all until she woke up and saw your bed had remained undisturbed the entire night.

That left you with a window of time in which you could eat and sleep. After that, you had to walk to the nearest village and appropriate a new mount that could get you even farther from the academy and the capital and Prince Zuko’s grasp.

“It’s just so strange,” you said to Bian as you made a small fire using kindling, the way you had been taught in the academy. “If I’m an Earthbender instead of a former Fire Nation soldier, then there really is no explanation for any of it. Why did he abduct me? Why did he order my memories to be subdued? What significance did I hold?”

If she knew anything about the heart or mind of her former master, she did not reveal it. Rummaging around in your bag for the bit of food you had scrounged up while packing, you chewed on it pensively before pulling out the book you had been reading.

Opening to the page you had left off on, you promised to only finish the chapter on the royal family before you went to sleep. Maybe it was foolish to sacrifice any of the precious little rest you could get, but you longed for something to soothe your mind, and you thought that reading, as a familiar habit, might accomplish that goal.

The last ruler of the Earth Kingdom was the 52nd Earth King, born Kuei. He is famous only for his ineptitude. Ascending the throne at the age of four, he was a puppet monarch for much of his life, until the day he was deposed of by Prince Zuko and the Fire Nation forces. 

For some strange reason, there was a lump in your throat reading about the 52nd Earth King, as if he was someone that you greatly missed. But that was not even the oddest thing — it was the next passage that made you truly gasp. Memories upon memories poured in as you read and reread the paragraph, which was more of a footnote than anything.

The 52nd Earth King also had a younger sister, though no one ever saw her. A nonbender like the king, Princess Y/N remained shut away in the palace her entire life, reputedly for her own protection. Because of her fragile and essentially invisible status, her own subjects mockingly referred to her as the Glass Princess.

She, along with her brother, was killed during the fall of Ba Sing Se.

[megamindsecretlair]

What's Your Favorite Scary Movie?

Pairing: Ghostface x Black!Fem!Shy!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, protected PIV, oral (male receiving), size kink, degradation kink, toxic smut, stranger smut (but implied relationship), praise kink, mocking, minor knife play, use of pet names, all consensual. Mention of drinking and tipsy sex. Implied relationship.

Summary: At a Halloween party, you lure a sexy Ghostface down to the basement for a little bit of naughty fun.

Word Count: 2,231k

A/N: I am feral. I've been feening for Ghostface smut, so I wrote some for a little Friday the 13th fun. Wish I got this out sooner, but well. Listen, a time was had writing this! I hope you enjoy. Because I definitely did! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the tall man wearing a black tank, black jeans, and a Ghostface mask. The party raged on all around you, but you were only concerned with getting next to him. 

He wore the mask so you weren’t sure what he looked like. He could be ugly. But there was no way that he had a body like that, tattoos covering his muscled arms, and he was ugly. But that wasn’t the point. He exuded a type of indifference that made you want to flock to him. 

You weren’t that thirsty though. You adjusted the suspenders on your school girl outfit. The skirt was completely inappropriate. It stopped mid thigh and if you coughed too hard, you’d flash anyone behind you. The sweater was a size too big so that it hung down past the skirt. Your dress shirt was a size too small and half buttoned up anyway. You wore a sexy bra underneath but the sides of the shirt were just long enough to cover it. All anyone saw was your exposed chest. 

It was meant to be lewd. Filthy. To conjure up all those thoughts of first crushes in high school. The type of crush that you still think about to this day, even when you’re kissing your significant other. The type of crush that burned from the inside out. 

Ghostface stood still in the living room, surrounded by gyrating bodies to music. Everyone was dressed in costumes for the Friday the 13th party. There were a few Jason’s and Freddy Krueger’s walking around.

You crooked your finger. If he was looking at you behind that mask, he’d follow you. You turned and went through the exact replica of Stu’s house from the movie. You went down the stairs that led to the basement. 

You looked around the dingy garage. A moment later, the door opened. Ghostface walked down the steps slowly, his heavy boots echoing off of the wooden steps. His dark skin blended with the shadows in the garage and it only turned you on more. 

You were dripping already. The aura this man had was intoxicating all on its own. The mask was a stark contrast, showing the fake sympathetic visage of a ghost. You squeezed your thick thighs together, trying to get some kind of attention between your legs. 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asked, with a voicebox from the movie. If you were dripping before, you were a sopping mess. The movie voice always strangely turned you on. He always sounded so condescending and mocking. Smug. 

“Too obvious to say Scream?” 

“Maybe. Why do you like that fucked up movie?” He asked. He walked closer. No, he stalked closer. His body was fluid, with a little hood lean that made you lick your lips. 

Had you died and gone to heaven? If so, you definitely didn’t want to go back to Earth. 

“It’s more psychological horror. The killer could be anybody,” you said. 

Ghostface flexed and unflexed his gloved fingers. The leather stretched tight over big, grown man’s hands. 

“Even you?” He asked.

“Even you,” you said and grinned. You backed away from him, but then his hand shot out and wrapped around your neck. You gasped at the pressure. It was just right. Not too hard and not too soft. 

“You shouldn’t follow strange men down in the basement. That’s a certified way to get killed.”

Ghostface produced a knife. It was long and slightly curved. He ran it over your skin. The coldness of the knife made you gasp. It was real. You knew it was. The thought made your heart speed up. You looked up into expressionless eyes. 

“You followed me. Maybe you’re the one in danger,” you said. 

“I really hope so. Why don’t you pull down those panties and let me see what we got,” he said. 

You followed his command. Your eyes never left the mask as you wiggled out of your panties. They were damp anyway. He pushed you backwards. Your legs connected with something solid behind you, a little too tall for you to hop onto.

He forced you down anyway, hiking your butt onto the edge of whatever it was. It felt solid and cold. The coldness seeped onto your ass, chilling you further from the frigid garage. 

Ghostface dropped the knife on the object you were leaning on. He removed his hand from your throat so he could take his time removing his gloves. He ran one hand down the middle of your chest. His warm, big hands played with the edges of your bra. His other hand coasted down your outfit until he reached the end of the skirt. 

“I like easy little sluts,” he said. 

He lifted your skirt and ran his hands around your wet curls. “The easiest one,” you said. 

“You want to be fucked, Princess?” He asked. 

You nodded and bit your lip. Fuck yes, you want to be fucked. “Yes, right now,” you said. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you. You hadn’t taken anything and you weren’t drunk off your ass for once. You were a little tipsy though, the alcohol you consumed gave you a pleasant tingle. You wanted him so badly you were aching with it. 

“I can’t hear you, Princess,” he said. He tilted his head, maintaining that calm and cool demeanor. 

You felt like you were ready to burst at any minute. Your clit started throbbing in tune with your heartbeat. It paced at a steady tempo, building higher the longer your stood there. 

“Yes, I want to be fucked. So badly,” you begged. 

Ghostface laughed at you. It was cruel. It was hot as hell. “Turn around,” he said. His laughter died. The raspy sound was like its own caress over your sensitive brown skin. 

You turned around and faced some type of freezer that lay horizontally. You placed your hands on the fridge and giggled at the cold top. 

You could only rely on your other senses. You smelled the spiciness of his scent. His cologne passed through your nose and you inhaled deeply, committing it to memory. You heard him rustling, pulling down his jeans. His methods were concise and controlled. There was a sound of a package ripping and then more rustling.

Finally, he scooted up behind you and pushed on your lower back. Your chest hit the top of the freezer. He lifted up your skirt and slammed inside. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. You were so wet that he went in easily, slipping nearly out already. But his was thick and long and as he really started hitting it, your eyes were already rolling into the back of your head. 

He leaned forward and placed one hand on top of the freeze next to yours. The other gripped your waist, slamming you up and down on his dick. 

“Fuck, this pussy feel so good,” he rasped right next to your ear. You moaned loudly, letting him know that you were thoroughly enjoying this. The feel of him. The anonymous nature of it. 

You started to slam back on him on his own steam. You matched his tempo so that he was hitting you harder and harder. You felt him so deep inside of you that the tip of him hit your G spot and you cried out. 

Your orgasm rocked through you and you shook from the sheer force of it. Ghostface didn’t give you a moment of reprieve. He kept up his punishing strokes, shoving you into the fridge. 

The wet slap of your thighs bounced off of the walls. Ghostface slapped your ass and you tensed up, breaking your concentration. “Relax Princess,” he cooed. The tinny voicebox was just hotter this up close and personal. 

You took quick, shallow breaths trying to calm down from your orgasm and still take his brutal thrusts. 

You slumped against the fridge and took the delicious pleasure. You were riding a unique high and it was bliss. Ecstasy. Your cheek touched the cool metal and it was just what you needed to cool your overheated skin. Sweat clung to you. You probably looked like a proper mess but you didn’t care. That was easily one of the best orgasms you ever had.

Ghostface slowed his thrusts and tapped your cheek a few times, enough to hurt. 

“Aw, is my Princess tapping out?” He asked.

He slid out slowly, so slowly to make you feel every inch of him. His mushroom head stretched your pussy and you whined, ready to jump out of your skin. He pushed back in with as much carefulness as the way out. 

“Fuck you,” you groaned out. You panted, needing more. Ghostface dropped his head to your shoulder and chuckled. 

“Already got that part covered,” he said. To emphasize his point, he shoved in with a quick thrust and you cried out. Banging your fists on top of the fridge. 

“I want to be fucked. If you can’t handle that, maybe I’ll find someone who will,” you said. 

Ghostface dug his fingers into your hair and yanked, pulling you backwards with a painful tug. 

“I’ll kill anyone who touches you,” he said. 

You were almost tempted to test that theory. You wiggled, trying to gauge how much room you had. Ghostface had an iron grip on you. There was no room to wiggle. If you wanted to move, it was only if he let you. 

You clenched around his dick and he chuckled. “What ya thinkin’ about Princess? Me murdering someone for you turn you on?” 

You tried to shake your head. It wasn’t that. But your pussy betrayed you, clenching around him again. 

He chuckled again and began moving. His strokes were deep and slow. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. I don’t like it,” he whispered. He moved his hand from your waist down to you pussy. His fingers moved between your folds, searching out your throbbing clit. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you said. You stood on tiptoes, leaning away from him. He kept going, rolling your dripping arousal all around your swollen nub. 

“I said I’m sorry!” You cried and stomped your foot. This was too much sensation. Too much stimulation. Between him working inside of you, trying to imprint there, and his expert fingers on your pussy, you were nearing another orgasm. 

“Oh, please, I’m sorry,” you said. Your orgasm crested anyway. Your legs turned to jelly as your orgasm rushed over you like an avalanche. Covering you in a blanket of bliss. He picked up his pace, bringing your hips down faster and faster.

“Act like a brat, this is what fuckin’ sluts get,” he said. He slapped your ass and each consecutive one hurt worse than the last. 

He finally slammed in one final time and released a string of curses. There were a mix of platitudes and you were almost certain that he asked you to marry him. You felt him twitch and flex inside of you and you were only sorry that you couldn’t feel him leak out after. 

He groaned and slapped your ass one more time for good measure. He slipped from inside you and groaned as he took off the condom. 

“Come lick this shit up,” he demanded. You turned and dropped to your knees. You couldn’t support your own weight anyway. 

Cum dripped slowly from this tip of his dick. He stroked himself and moved closer, slapping it against your lips. “Open up,” he said.

You opened your mouth and looked into his ghost mask. His dick slipped in and he moaned. He threw his head back and released a deep sigh. 

“Need this,” he said. He began to fuck your mouth. He grabbed the sides of your head and thrust in as far as he could. You slobbered and coated his dick in saliva. He leaked into your mouth, the salty flavor of him turning you on. 

His head was still thrown back. His hips stuttered every so often as if your mouth felt too good on him. It was a heady feeling. Knowing that you affected him just as much. That you turned him on this much.

That the sweet curves of your body and the sweet nectar of your body was enough to make him crazy. Possessive. Feral. Fresh arousal gushed from you and you moaned around his dick. 

“Like the way I taste, Princess?” He asked. His fingers petted your cheek. You smelled your arousal on him faintly.

Spit dribbled down your chin and down his dick. You nodded and moaned again. You would never get sick of this. Of being his little toy that he constantly fucked with. 

He moaned and kept pumping into your mouth. “Sweet fuck,” he moaned and released himself inside your mouth. Hot splashes of cum danced on your tongue and then you swallowed him all down. 

“Such a good little slut for me, Princess,” he said. 

You whimpered. You popped his dick out with a loud pop and grinned at him. He nodded for you to get up. He watched you struggle to your feet, your legs feeling like noodles. 

“Don’t test me again, Princess,” he said. He pulled his pants up and zipped himself back up. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said with a grin. Knowing damn well that you were on your way to do just that.

Psst. There's more! The Secret Ghostface Files

[xcherryerim]

Strange Fascination

Part One: A Mocha With A side Of Your Sight

pt.two

Stalker!Mike x gn!reader

“Every morning, in front of you at last, I stand again, as if I'm enchanted. I'm still half-awake, the haziness guiding me towards you.” — Iced Coffee by Red velvet

This story will lead to smut (not this part but the second) If you’re not up for that, do not read this!

Warning: obsession/ stalking | mentions of over-usage (with sleeping pills but yk) | Breaking in readers house

Notes: This part is meant to describe Mike’s fascination on reader and how he ends up breaking into reader’s house so, this part mainly focuses on Mike along side Abby. Part two will focus mainly on reader. (also this was revised like 3 times so, yk not that perfect)

Summary: After not seeing you at school to pick up your brother, his mind is flooded with worry. In an excuse to hangout with his sister, Mike drove near your place, observing your every move through the cafe window.

Mike tends to obsess easily. Whether it's with re-living the events of his lost brother, collecting nostalgic artifacts, or reading a stack load of psychology books. It’s an innocent hobby and it’s not harming anyone, but lately, he started to be captivated by a new subject.

Four months have passed since Abby began attending middle school, but Mike can still vividly recall the very first moment he laid eyes on you. That fateful day remains etched in his memory, as though it happened just yesterday.

Despite the mounting stress surrounding his impending court case against his Aunt, Mike attempted to maintain a composed demeanor for Abby's sake. She was embarking on a significant transition, moving from her familiar surroundings to a larger and more complex educational environment.

As he patiently awaited Abby’s emergence from the classroom, his nerves were further tested when a stranger appeared and positioned themselves near him, close enough for the musky Vanilla scent to reach his nose.

Under normal circumstances, Mike would shy away from making eye contact with strangers, unless he had a specific reason to engage with them. However, on this particular day, he found himself inexplicably drawn to look up, and there you are, standing before him. In his eyes, you appeared as a divine being, an angel who had descended from the heavens, sent to watch over him and him alone.

Your presence sent a shiver down his spine, heightening his nervous energy while simultaneously eliciting a sense of comfort and security.

Though Mike remained silent, his eyes meticulously took in every detail of your visage, committing your likeness to memory. His behavior was not intended to be unsettling; rather, it stemmed from an innate need to capture your image in his mind.

Suddenly, you broke the silence with a timid "Hi," which caught him off guard. Taken aback, Mike responded with a soft, "Hello, you."

While seeing you for mere moments each weekday may seem like a fleeting encounter, Mike's keen observation skills allowed him to make the most of these brief instances. He meticulously studied your routine, scrutinizing the subtle variations in the timing of your arrival to collect your brother.

On Mondays and Thursdays, you could be found arriving precisely at 3:20, while Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays offered slightly longer windows, ranging from 3:30 to 3:46.

Through diligent study and careful attention, Mike managed to piece together a comprehensive understanding of your schedule, ensuring that he wouldn't miss a single opportunity to catch a glimpse of you.

In addition to monitoring your schedule, Mike began to decode the nuances of your moods based on your daily attire. Although you generally stuck to the same color scheme, he discerned subtle differences that hinted at your emotional state.

For instance, a particular long-sleeve shirt signaled haste, while an oversized graphic tee indicated fatigue. Even minor alterations to your hairstyle served as clues to your mental landscape. Over time, Mike committed countless details to memory, even going so far as to surreptitiously follow your vehicle to ascertain your home address.

However, despite these extensive efforts at understanding and learning about you, the interactions remained limited to brief greetings - a tantalizing taste of connection amidst the vast sea of unspoken longing.

On this particular Wednesday, chaos reigned as students spilled from the classroom, jostling one another in their rush to leave. Amidst the pandemonium, Abby found herself standing beside Mike, sensing the turmoil in his gaze.

Intrigued, she queried, "Why are we still here?" Her question snapped him back to the present, and he stammered, struggling to formulate a coherent thought.

Remembering the purpose of their wait, he asked, "Um, Abbs, did your classmate... was it Gregory? Did he come to school today?"

Abby couldn't help but furrow her brow, wondering if Mike's preoccupation was related to you. "No," she replied briefly before leading the way, prompting him to follow reluctantly.

Attempting to shift gears, he inquired about the solar system project Mike helped her with.

"So, how did your presentation go? Did you score a hundred?"

Abby sighed, clarifying, "The science teacher never gives hundreds, but I managed to snag a ninety-seven."

“That’s still pretty good, Abbs. Don’t worry.” He smiled.

Mike struggled to suppress his desire to visit your residence, the concern for your well-being clouding his judgment. His anxiety threatened to derail his focus on the road, nearly resulting in a collision and earning him seven irate honks from fellow drivers.

Abby wondered if her mental prayers on the road helped them get home safely. She was now standing in front of the kitchen table, as his brother, still with his anxious look served her spaghetti. As she polished off her meal, she observed Mike's restless hands continuously picking at his uneaten food.

Unsure whether to approach him about his obvious distress, she hesitated, suspecting that he might dismiss her concerns. Enveloped by the deafening silence, she contemplated retreating to her room or remaining to offer support. Ultimately, it was Mike who broke the quiet standoff, tentatively proposing, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

This unexpected invitation perplexed her; sibling bonds between the two had predominantly revolved around shared chores, academic assistance from Mike, and marathon sessions of cheesy films.

However, the unfamiliarity of a walk piqued Abby’s interest. Sensing hidden intentions, she inquired, "Why?"

Mike attempted to deflect his sister's probing gaze, replying casually, "Just feel like getting some fresh air."

With that, he grabbed his keys and confidently declared, "I know a great spot."

Mike navigated his vehicle to a parking spot near the park, consciously avoiding your location to not seem suspicious. As they walked, Mike maintained a brisk pace, pushing Abby to her limits as she struggled to keep up.

After a few exhausting minutes, the excuse he needed to invite Abby to the coffee shop on your street appeared.

"Oh, you're tired?" he feigned innocence, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "I think I recall seeing a coffee shop nearby."

Upon reaching the coffee shop, the once-unfamiliar street suddenly held an uncanny familiarity for Abby. Though she couldn't comprehend the reasoning behind this sensation, she was relieved to see a genuine grin spread across Mike's face. While appreciative of his newfound composure, the peculiar nature of his smile continued to nag at her subconscious. Little did she know, her apprehension foreshadowed the depth of his new fixation.

Mike's gaze roamed the coffee shop, absorbing the ambiance - the warm lighting, the rich scent of coffee beans, and the soothing fragrance of lavender. His imagination ran wild, conjuring visions of an intimate date with you in this very locale.

He envisioned himself sitting across from you at a cozy café. As you brought the mug to your lips, he reached out gently, wiping away a stray dollop from your mouth. Your eyes met his, filled with warmth and understanding.

In this fantasy, he leaned in, lips meeting softly in a tender kiss. His fingers traced the softness of your cheek, feeling the warmth beneath his touch. The taste of espresso mingled with the sweetness of your lips, a unique blend that only you could create. In this dream reality, there was no fear, no anxiety, just two people finding comfort in each other's presence.

“What would you like to order?” The Barista on the register repeated.

Startled from his reverie, Mike hastily blurted out his order, "A latte and a mocha, both small!"

Aware of his volume, he flushed with embarrassment, but his impassioned state rendered him indifferent to etiquette. Paying for the drinks without delay, he claimed a seat by the window facing your house, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Despite the glaring sunlight and the parade of cars obscuring his view, Mike strained his eyes to catch sight of you through the window. Your shadowy outline offered solace, indicating that you were safe and sound. In contrast, your brother Gregory appeared increasingly agitated, doodling with shaky hands.

Concerned, you checked on him intermittently, hoping to ease his discomfort.

Your house consumed Mike's attention, leaving him oblivious to the arrival of the drinks. Abby stepped in to retrieve their coffees, presenting Mike with a gentle nudge back to reality.

"How's yours?" she inquired, attempting to break his trance. Snapped out of his daydream, Mike took a sip and confirmed, "Yeah, it's good." Almost immediately, his gaze returned to the reflection of your house in the mirror.

Fixated on your home, Mike caught a glimpse of you speaking on the phone, setting off a barrage of questions in his mind. Who were you speaking to? Was there someone else in your life? Dismissing the thought of a secret partner, he rationalized that he would have detected indicators of such-jewelry, perhaps a ring. Unless…

"You seem to like that house," Abby observed, taking a sip of her latte.

“I like the design. You know I wanted to be a—“

"Contractor," Abby concluded, and Mike nodded vigorously. His fascination with architecture was well-known, but the true extent of his infatuation remained shrouded in mystery.

"Hopefully, you'll get to live in a beautiful home someday, Abby," Mike responded earnestly, his stare fixed on the distant house. While not prone to overt displays of emotion, his wishes for her happiness emanated sincerely. He genuinely cherishes his sister.

"I hope you do too," Abby whispered, her tone laced with warmth. Pondering whether this excursion sprang from simple brotherly camaraderie rather than anything sinister, she allowed herself a flicker of optimism.

Though his gaze remained trained on your place, the tenderness in Abby's voice elicited a faint smile from Mike.

"Let's get a better look," she proposed, rising from her seat.

Inside, Mike wrestled with uncertainty, questioning the wisdom of their actions. Nonetheless, the need to observe you closely trumped his reservations, justifying this intrusion into your privacy.

“I like how you think.” He replied, following his sister out of the coffee shop.

Fortuitously, the absence of traffic allowed Mike to traverse the street without incident, his impulsive stride mirroring a moth drawn to a flickering flame. Unaware of the potential danger, he followed you with unwavering determination, guided by an insatiable curiosity.

While Abby visualized herself residing in such a picturesque abode, lost in dreams of interior decor, Mike scrutinized the property, seeking vulnerabilities. Numerous avenues of entry loomed ominously, igniting a protective instinct within him. The last thing Mike wanted was for a total stranger to be near your house.

Fixated on identifying threats, Mike scanned the landscape from left to right. His focus alighted upon a window, likely your room, taunting him with easy access. Steeling himself against temptation, he decided to not to cross that line- at least, for now.

The sudden noise of crunchy leaves being stomped upon immediately made Mike walk away from the property as he forced Abby out of there, yet his eyes analyzed the new stranger, walking cluelessly at your house with a box of Pizza at hand.

Relief washed over Mike as his insecurities dissolved, only to be supplanted by irritation at the presumed flirtatiousness of the pizza delivery boy. Perhaps he was overreacting, yet his protective instincts screamed for confrontation, longing to rain down retribution upon the perceived transgressor.

Yet, Mike resisted allowing his fury to dictate his actions. With a renewed sense of purpose, he hastily departed from the scene. Your safety brought him solace, but your home's vulnerability haunted him.

As the clock struck 10:30 pm, Mike found himself unable to sleep, despite having ingested more than the recommended dose of his sleeping pills. Typically, these medications ensured a swift descent into slumber, but tonight, they failed to deliver their usual sedative effect.

Despite the meticulously arranged bedding, the soft hum of nature sounds, and the impeccably positioned Nebraska poster, Mike's restlessness persisted. Could it be that thoughts of you encroached upon his subconscious? Unsure of how to quell his turbulent emotions, he lay awake, grappling with his feelings.

At 11:16 am, the silence of the night echoed through. In this deserted hour, as others slumbered, Mike contemplated a surreptitious visit. Perhaps, under the cloak of darkness, he could safeguard your sanctuary from unseen threats.

Wrapping himself in a mantle of darkness, Mike donned a black cap, hoodie, and athletic bottoms - attire atypical for him. Mike did this to devise an alibi. if someone sees him making sure you're safe (which he knows in the sight of strangers it might look weird) he can just say he was exercising. Perfect solution.

Mike walked on his tippy toes, making sure to make no noise, as he grabbed his keys and made sure the house was locked tightly. Locks secure, keys in hand, he commenced the engine.

Despite the pill-induced haze clouding his senses, his concentration sharpened as he navigated deserted streets, only semi-trailers punctuating his journey. Finally arriving at your residence, he prepared to watch over you from the shadows.

The closer Mike got to you, the more his heart raced, pumping blood like a freight train against his ribcage. Every step he took brought forth a flurry of emotions - excitement mingled with anxiety, fear intertwined with anticipation. The fine line between obsession and love blurred in his mind, and it fueled him further into the unknown.

He stopped mere feet away from the window of your room. Peering through the glass pane, he could see the faint silhouette of you under the covers, sleeping peacefully. A wave of relief washed over him, replacing the earlier dread with a strange sense of satisfaction.

He watched you breathe rhythmically, your chest rising and falling gently with each breath. Despite the late hour, there was something comforting about seeing you safe and sound.

His fingers traced the cold surface of the glass, feeling its smooth texture against his palm. A mix of longing and protectiveness swelled within him, making his chest tighten. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed next to you, hold you close, and keep you safe from all harm. Yet, he knew better than to disturb your slumber. This was as close as he dared get.

Mike's heart pounded in his chest as the lights flickered on inside the house. His instincts kicked in, propelling him into the nearest hiding spot - a cluster of dense bushes. He pressed himself against the cool ground, hoping to remain unseen.

What could have caused you to switch on the lights so suddenly? Were you disturbed by something? Or did you have a nightmare?

In the glow of the moonlight, he could see you standing by the window, looking out into the night. Your posture seemed tense and your hoodie confirmed it.

There was an unmistakable air of distress around you, which resonated deeply with Mike's own experiences. Could it be possible that you were going through something similar?

A wave of empathy surged through Mike. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you, to offer you a shoulder to lean on, a warm embrace to banish your fears away. But he knew better than to intrude on your privacy. Instead, he stayed hidden, watching over you from the darkness, praying silently for your well-being.

As you emerged from the room, Mike hesitated briefly. His instincts screamed at him to hide, to disappear into the shadows before being discovered. But something within him rebelled, urging him forward. Before he could think twice, he was lifting the window sash, the squeaky hinge echoing in the silence of the night.

Once inside, he hurriedly shut the window, heart pounding wildly in his chest. He knew this was reckless, yet it felt necessary. As he scanned the slightly messy room, his eyes fell upon the forgotten spot beneath the bed - a haven of security amidst uncertainty. Without giving it a second thought, he squeezed himself underneath, his body brushing against discarded clothes and half-filled notebooks.

In this cramped space, he listened closely for any signs of detection. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mingling with the grit and dust from the floor. He felt exposed yet strangely protected, like a child playing hide and seek.

"Sorry," he whispered under his breath, hoping you would understand his intentions.

Mike was already anxious, the adrenaline of being in your room and the effects of the dosage made him a panicked mess.

The sound of you entering the room sent a ripple of dread through Mike. His heart pounded against his ribcage, beating out an erratic rhythm that threatened to give him away. Sweat dripped from his brow, pooling in the dimly lit corner where he lay concealed. His breath hitched in his throat, each gasp amplified in the quiet space.

When you moved closer to the bed, Mike held his breath, bracing for impact. But instead of anger or fear, a scream echoed through the room. Startled, he scrambled back, knocking into a pile of books that had somehow ended up under the bed. Papers rustled and pages fluttered, creating a symphony of noise that seemed deafening in the silent bedroom.

"I'm fucked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

To be continued…

Thank you so much for reading. Hope you will support this mini series! xoxo (if you want to be tagged on the next part let me know!)

[iovetecchou]

My Heart ⧸ Bram Stoker

༞ Contains...! a pinch of fluff, angst and smut (holy shit), unintentionally plot-heavy, strangers to friends to lovers, realization of feelings, being in denial of said feelings (from bram), confessions, self-loathing (from bram), reader offering bram the love he deserves! consent, kissing, making out, nipple play, soft touches, praise, needy!reader, oral (receiving... obviously, considering that- nvm) face sitting...

Bram uses "mo chroí" as a term of endearment for the reader, which essentially translates to "my heart" the title of this fic- woah, shocker!

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 5,873 words.

"Y/N, get my boots!"

"Y/N, where is my lunch?"

"Y/N! I don't have all day, you know."

This charade was getting old.

You were at Fukuchi's beck and call. His little servant and it made you sick. You didn't choose this life for yourself— no, you never would have done this to yourself.

You were a Hunting Dog at one point, but it felt so long since your glory days. The moment you witnessed what Fukuchi did to your former colleague— Tachihara, your fate was sealed.

You had two options: join the Decay of Angels or die, like all the sorry souls before you— and all the ones to come.

Well, you chose the former. But being a part of the Decay of Angels is not what you pictured. You were a glorified secretary to Fukuchi. You had to tuck your tail between your legs day in and day out.

Swallow your pride and follow orders.

You loathed it with every fiber of your being. However, you would be lying if you said nothing good came out of this arrangement.

There was Bram, your last-ditch effort for hope.

You hadn't thought much of the strange coffin Fukuchi hauled around. The same casket that inevitably caused chaos. You knew it couldn't be the coffin but rather— what was inside the tattered wooden box that caused disarray.

One day, curiosity got the better of you. Fukuchi was in his living quarters, presumably resting as you finished your tedious paperwork for the day. It was already past midnight by the time you finished up.

You stood up from your desk, stretching your limbs before trekking toward Fukuchi's office. Usually, you would place the paperwork atop his desk and then go on your merry way. That is what Fukuchi permitted you to do, at least. But tonight was… different.

That unruly coffin propped up against the furthest wall in the darkest corner of his office caught your eye. Most people who worked under Fukuchi's thumb would not have given it a second glance.

But you? You could not take your eyes off it.

The gold cross plating that decorated the outside of the coffin caught the light the second you creaked the office door open. The glimmering plating caught your eye. Beckoning you to come closer- drawing you in.

Before your brain could catch up, your feet carried forward, inching closer toward that dimly lit corner. All you could think of was, what could be inside that tattered box? That same question flickered in your mind for weeks, and you were finally about to get your answer.

Your trembling fingertips grazed over the smooth finish on the casket. They danced over the golden cross before trailing lower. Your persparated palms felt each flank of the coffin before you found the groove you were skimming for.

You took a sharp intake of breath. Fukuchi would kill you if he saw you right now. You thought, before diminishing that idea from your mind. Face it, he was going to kill you eventually. So you might as well continue with your plan. You got this far. There was no turning back.

It took all your might to drag the weighty wooden door of the coffin open. But once you did, your breath hitched.

It was… a man? A pretty one at that. This strange man was most definitely sleeping. He had prominent veins running along his lashline, you noted. His hair was pure white, long, and all out of place, nearly covering half of his visage. He also had two identical scars adorning his pallid cheeks.

He was mesmerizing, statuesque.

Maybe this man was artificial? He was as still as could be, and you found it tricky to disclose if he was breathing. There was no rise and fall of his chest, no warmth radiating from his frame. You could not control the way your fingers rose to his form. Ghosting over his face, only a few centimeters away from grazing his cheek.

"Who are you?"

A gruff voice pulled you out of your trance. You stumbled back, watching in disbelief as the mysterious man before you opened his lids, revealing the most bewitching crimson eyes. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you struggled to find the words to respond to him.

"Hey… I asked you a question."

The alluring man before you sounded more annoyed this time. His eyes never once left yours. It intimidated you more than you would have liked to admit.

"I'm nobody, really! I'm sorry for disturbing you—I'll be going now."

You babbled, smoothing your shirt down nervously before turning on your heel. You wanted nothing more than to leave this office and forget this night ever happened.

"Stop."

His compelling voice ceased you in your tracks. You should have just left, but you didn't. Instead, you obeyed his demand.

"How long has it been since my last awakening?"

You quickly turned to face the stranger in the corner of your boss's office.

"Huh? Last awakening…? I'm not sure I understand what you are talking about. I'm sorry."

He gave you a pointed look. Finally, he let his eyes wander over your frame before ultimately letting out a deep sigh.

"Tell me, do you possess a legendary treasure? It Contains musicians in a box, the size no bigger than a fist, a wireless radio."

Your eyes widened. This man considered a wireless radio to be a legendary treasure…? Just who was this guy?

"Um… I don't own one of those. I do, however, have my phone to listen to music. If… that's what you are interested in?"

Before he could question the foreign words you just uttered to him, he watched as you pulled a peculiar device from your pocket. You unraveled your earbuds, trekking dangerously close to this strange man.

Slowly, you position the earbuds in each of his ears. Making sure they were in place, all the while crimson eyes followed your every movement. Before he could ask you the meaning of this—music surged through the strange gadget, flooding his senses with pleasant beats.

You watched as his demeanor softened upon hearing your playlist. He closed his eyes in contentment, letting the melody overcome him. You were confused, to say the least. Not only was this man trapped in a coffin, but his only wish was to listen to music?

"Are you… a goddess?"

You couldn't help but giggle at his terminology. Your laughter pulled his lids open once more.

"Far from it… I'm Y/N, and you are?"

"So 'nobody' does have a name after all. I'm the King of the Dead, Bram Stoker."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as you slightly tilted your head in confusion at his fascinating introduction, politely putting your hand out to shake his own.

"We cannot do that. I assumed you were aware of my… circumstance?"

Your grin wavered, more bewildered than ever at his words. Bram let out a drawn-out sigh at your expression. The realization of your cluelessness ultimately dawned on him.

"Pull this sheet from off me."

Bram sounded peeved as he gestured down toward his chest with his gaze alone. Hesitantly, you did so.

Your hands trembled, nails digging into the tattered raven cloth that concealed Bram moments ago. You could not accept what you were witnessing.

Bram was missing over half of his body- most of his frame was replaced by a large sword. It plunged through his whole being. All that remained intact was the upper half of his torso and head.

"Horrid, right? This is what my old enemy, Fukuchi, did to me."

Before you could control it, tears spilled past your lash line. Staining your burning cheeks. Bram looked taken aback as you wept for him. His mouth slumped open as he quizzically observed you.

"How awful… I'm so sorry. I hate Fukuchi so much. Of course, he would do something like this…"

Your tears flowed as you covered Bram up with that worn-out black sheet. Your hands came up to cup his cheeks, caressing the paired scars that decorated them.

Your touch pulled a gasp from both your lips.

Your breath hitched the second you came in contact with the frigid porcelain skin of his cheeks.

And Bram felt dizzy upon feeling the warmth radiating from your palms.

He could not remember the last time he felt such a gentle touch. His mind staggered at the contact.

"Would you… Perhaps mind if we conversed for a while? It seems you and I both have a lot of catching up to do."

That first encounter between Bram and yourself was ages ago. But an unforgettable one at that. You two stayed up all night, filling one another in on everything.

Bram informed you all about his ability and Fukuchi's use of him. You told Bram all about how you ended up here and what went wrong.

That night felt like a dream, something you only could have made up in your subconscious. Each night, you stayed at work later and later. You waited for everyone around you to dissipate so you could see Bram again. Talk to him for hours, learn more about his life, memorize him.

Your secret meet-ups went on for months. You could care less about getting killed by Fukuchi if you ever got caught. All you cared about was Bram. He was your only fragment of hope in your sad excuse of a life. The closer you became, the more your feelings developed for him.

On the surface, Bram came off as aloof; bored, and uninterested in anything. But that could not be further from the truth. Everything Bram loved, from his human life, was stolen from him. The idea of ever feeling warmth or love again was drained from his mind. That was until you appeared.

After five months of sneaking around and spending your nightfalls listening to music with one another, sharing stories, and growing close, you ultimately acknowledged your feelings for him.

"Bram, I… I need to tell you something."

You nervously fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, not daring to meet Bram's enchanting gaze. You sat atop Fukuchi's desk as Bram quizzically stared down at you from where he was propped up inside his coffin, against the back wall; as usual.

"Hm? What seems to be the matter, Y/N?"

His tone was delicate, solely for you. Quickly, you shot up from the desk. If speaking was too challenging, then… You had no choice but to show him.

Bram observed as you hastily approached him. Your hands darted up to his cheeks, holding him delicately like that first night you met. But before Bram could ask you- once more, what was wrong, you kissed him. Bram gasped against your lips, crimson orbs blown wide as he peered down at you. He watched you intently as your lips molded to his.

He could not accept what was occurring. Again, that head-dizzying feeling washed over him as you pulled away from his lips. You hurridly relaxed your head atop his shoulder, leaving a small kiss on the side of his neck before whispering,

"I love you, Bram."

His mind slowly digested the pure and earnest words you uttered against his neck. Bram finally had something— or rather, someone grant him motivation, hope for his less-than-ideal living circumstances— and life itself.

Bram felt unloveable. How could he not? He was quite literally half the man he used to be. But, you… loved him?

Your face felt hot as the seconds ticked on by. You nestled your face further into the juncture of his throat and shoulder. Placing delicate kisses on his frigid neck. Your hand continued to soothe over one of his cheeks as your other hand came up to card through his slate locks.

“I… do not think someone as magnificent as you should love a terror like me. You… will be met with misfortunes if you involve yourself with the likes of me. It would be soundest if you forgot about me altogether. Turn back now, before it's too late.”

His tone was low, barely inaudible if not for the proximity. You removed your head from his shoulder, meeting his ruby gaze for the first time since your confession.

“You said that is what you think… but- is that what you want?”

Bram let out a sigh, lids fluttering shut for a moment. He swore that if he looked at you for any longer, he would succumb to you. Your devoted countenance was too much to endure for Bram.

“…No.”

You brought your other hand back up to his fair visage, soothing over the identical scars residing on his freezing cheeks.

“Then tell me, Bram… what do you want? I know this whole situation- with Fukuchi, was against your will. I know you do not care to hurt others or cause destruction. You are not a monster. You never could be in my eyes. I love you for who you are in here,”

You gently tap his forehead to emphasize your point. His eyelids fluttered back open at your hasty display.

Bram knew this was wrong. He should not feel so attached- so compelled to you. But, you overtook his mind; you were his solace.

Your voice was the most desirable melody. Bram wished he could record your tellings and listen to you speak, over and over until it branded his brain.

He undoubtedly loved you for as long as he could remember. You were the first to show him compassion, hear him, and care about him in god knows how long. Bram did not even think he was capable of loving again. But you were quite the anomaly. You crept into his soul, taking over his every thought before he could intercept.

Bram watched as your eyebrows rose in concern. His silence was making your heart pound rapidly against your sternum. The fear of being rejected by him bubbled up in your abdomen, making you feel queasy.

He let out one of his signature sighs before his strong voice sliced through your doubts.

"What I desire… is for you to kiss me, once more."

Without any hesitation, you gave Bram what he wanted.

You pushed your lips against his with more confidence this time. Your mind surged with delight at the pleasant sighs Bram let out in between kisses. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, and Bram could hear it. Loud and clear.

His hearing was heightened, after all. Any physical reaction or sound you let out, he caught.

You were completely lost in the moment. The only thing tugging you out of your trance was the feeling of your lungs burning for air. As you pulled away to catch your breath, your forehead rested atop Bram's. Your warm breath tickled his wet ruddy lips.

There was that head-dizzying feeling again.

Bram's eyes flickered over your melodic expression. He wanted nothing more than to keep you happy like this for as long as he could. He knew your time together was limited, but he did not have the heart to break it to you. (Quite literally-)

When Fukuchi had no more use for Bram, he would annihilate him.

It was inevitable.

Bram hated feeling so helpless. He had not bothered to put up a fight all those times his old enemy threatened to end his life if he did not comply.

But now, Bram had someone to fight for.

He wanted nothing more than to shield you from harm. Take you away from this wretched place and live a comfortable life with you.

That was nothing but a fairytale. A nice thought, but unattainable.

If only he could remove this sword, regenerate his body, and get you out of this mournful circumstance. Be the man he yearned to be for you.

Not a day went by when he did not fantasize about wrapping you in his arms, hugging you tightly to himself. Bram often dreamt about holding your hand in his, wondering what it would feel like to interlock fingers. The warmth from your palm would compliment his icy grip, he reckoned.

The feeling of your nose bumping against his own pulled him from his thoughts. You beamed brightly at him, caressing his cheeks in that gentle way he loved so much.

And in that moment… he lost all composure, succumbing to you entirely.

"I… love you, Y/N. More than you could ever fathom."

You grew bolder as more months flickered by. You began sneaking Bram out of Fukuchi's unsettling office in the dead of night, taking him back to your living quarters.

You did not have much to work with. Your room consisted of a bed and a desk. Thankfully, with your very own private bathroom connected. You tried to liven the place up as much as you could, but Fukuchi did not permit you to leave the premises very often. He only authorized your leave if he needed you to run tedious errands for him.

You'll never forget how Bram's face beamed brightly the moment he saw your safe space. A change of scenery was pleasant for him. He felt select, bearing witness to such an intimate detail of your life. The handmade stars and planets that decorated your ceiling caught Bram's eye almost instantly.

You explained to him that they were your only treasure remaining from your life when you were free. The first time you laid Bram to rest atop your bed, turning off the lights before making yourself comfortable beside him, was remarkable.

Your gaze was glued to his face, not wanting to miss his reaction when your little galaxy began to illuminate. Bram gasped softly as the stars and planets twinkled in the dusk. You could have sworn his eyes were sparkling as he gaped at the ceiling.

Since then, it was custom for Bram and yourself to rest atop your duvet, gazing up at your artificial stars as you talked endlessly. Sometimes, you would doze off, but Bram would wake you with a stifled cough and a call of your name before dawn.

He desperately longed to lull himself to sleep beside you, considering how much he valued his slumber, but Bram knew that was a dangerous game to play. If Fukuchi discovered what you both were up to, well, game over.

You cherished those precious seconds when you awoke to your lover's voice. Before reality sunk in... and you had to scramble up to sneak Bram back to his coffin. A twinge of guilt always twisted in your gut as you placed your lover back in his confinement.

But each time he gave you a gentle smile, reassuring you with the whisper of his voice,

"We will be together again once the sun lowers. Chin up, mo chroí."

Bram's crimson orbs lingered on your lips before trailing up, capturing your mesmerizing gaze. A habit your lover picked up on to signal that he yearned for a kiss.

Your hands came up to his visage, fingertips dancing along his earlobes as you inched closer toward his lips. Bram's eyes grew tenfold as you now caressed the tips of his ears, pulling a strangled groan from his throat.

The noise slipping from your lover's mouth caused heat to swirl in your core, heartbeat accelerating as you closed the gap. Your lips captured his with more intensity than ever before.

Bram would be lying if he said he could not feel your desire for more through the embrace. His mind went numb, ruby eyes fluttering shut and allowing himself to succumb to you.

You quickly pulled back, offering him a muted smile and a wave before closing the casket. Enveloping Bram in that lonesome void he despised so greatly.

That evening; as you lay in bed beside your lover, your mind was elsewhere— Bram noted.

"Something is bothering you, yes?"

He whispered, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to meet his gaze. Your faces barely centimeters apart.

"Bram, do certain touches make you feel… good?"

His eyebrows rose, lips curling into a pout; giving your question much thought.

"Good? Good, how?"

Ah, you should have known he would ask you to elaborate further. But what you were trying to ask was crass. Maybe it would be best if you—

"Would it be okay if I show you what I mean by… good?"

Bram noticed you were being bashful, piquing his curiosity even further.

"If that is what you desire… then yes, mo chroí."

Slowly, you sat up, positioning yourself in front of your lover. Bram's watchful gaze followed your every movement. His eyes trailed lower as your shaky hands came to fiddle with the two buttons of his tattered white shirt.

"Is this still okay?"

Breathlessly, Bram answered with a quiet,

"…Yes."

His mind raced as you undid the few remaining buttons on his shirt, followed by his torn overcoat. You pushed back the flimsy fabrics past what remained of his torso. Your eyes curiously observed his newly exposed flesh.

His neck was malleable, adams apple bobbing in his throat ever so often. His pale collarbones were prominent, complimenting his broad shoulders. You were surprised to see his lithe chest was still intact. His complexion was so fair; the only pigment that blotted his form were his rose-colored nipples. Right below his chest was where the sword resided, shrouded by a vacant void.

"Beautiful…"

You whispered, driving yourself closer toward Bram. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek, tipping his head to the side. Your breath tickled his neck as you placed chaste kisses on his throat. Your lover choked on a whine as your hands trailed higher.

Gently, you took one of his pointed ears in your grasp, rubbing the cool flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

"Does this feel good?"

You questioned. Your breath tickled Bram's throat, causing the hairs on his nape to stand. He could feel his composure slipping from your gentle touches.

"Considerably, yes."

Bram answered matter-of-factly, trying his hardest to keep his tone level. But you made it nearly impossible with how your teeth grazed his feeble throat. Experimentally, your lips closed around his neck, right underneath the spot where the skin of his earlobe meets his throat.

"Hah…"

Bram groaned, scoring his bottom lip with his teeth to keep any more obscene sounds from stumbling out. His reaction only encouraged you further. You moved slightly higher, kissing up toward his ear opposite from the one you caressed.

You nibbled on his lobe gently. Your warm tongue darted out, trailing up his sensitive flesh and pulling a whine from your lover's lips.

"Christ…"

His mind went fuzzy from the pleasure you granted him. Bram's eyes rolled back into his skull as you continued your assault on his erogenous zones. He secretly condemned himself for healing at an inhumane rate, wanting nothing more than for your marks to last. But alas, that was not feasible.

His crimson orbs fired open as he felt your thumb swipe over his nipple. His head slanted downward, attempting to get a better view. You handled Bram with much consideration, taking your time exploring every part of his form that made him tick.

You sneered against the tip of his ear as his rosy nipple hardened beneath your thumb. Your forefinger was quick to follow alongside your thumb. Pulling the pebbled bud with the pads of your fingers, twisting the sensitive flesh ever so slightly.

You left one last nip to his ear before sitting upright, desperately yearning to see his blissed-out expression. And you were not disappointed in the slightest.

His slate locks stuck to his cheeks and forehead from the perspiration. Bram's cheeks were flush as his mouth hung agape, drool seeping past his lips. Your lover unabashedly mewled for you as you continued your assault on his nipple.

You gazed at him intently, absolutely hypnotized by him. Seeing Bram in this state of euphoria was better than you pictured. And you imagined what it would be like to have him under you more times than you would like to admit.

Your fingers flowed over toward his other peck. You gently caressed his frigid flesh before tweaking his other nipple between your digits. Bram cried out this time at your ministrations. His head lulled back in pleasure as you crept your face closer toward his.

“Please, look at me.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Bram's ragged breath tickled your lips from how hard he was panting. But only a moment passed before his lids were peeling open once more.

You beamed brightly at him before capturing his lips with yours. Bram’s eyes stayed open; watching as you boldly swiped your wet tongue along his bottom lip. He happily complied, allowing you to explore his mouth further.

Bram’s mind was racing. You both had never taken things this far before. But it was exhilarating. He could not shake this tingly sensation that overlaid his form. Your touch sent shockwaves of electricity through him.

Only when you let a moan of your own out against his lips did he trail his gaze downward. Bram’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he watched your hips glide against the bed. You were rocking yourself into the mattress, almost on instinct; as you deepened the kiss further.

Your tongue traced over his fangs, treading with caution as the point of his teeth felt razor sharp with just the slightest bit of pressure from your appendage. You could feel your lungs burning, begging you to pull away and catch your breath.

“Mo chroí.…”

His voice was faint. Bram was still trying to regain his composure from that heated make-out session. Warmth crept up on you as you gazed into his ruby eyes.

You huffed, catching your breath as your hips faintly humped against the duvet.

“Would you allow me to return the blessing, Mo chroí?"

Your face heated up at his insinuation, not expecting such bold words from Bram.

"Y-Yes… but, forgive me for asking, how?"

Bram let out a deep sigh, muttering something under his breath. He averted his gaze from your own, seemingly struggling to find the words.

"Remove your garments and… sit on me. If you are pleased with doing so, mo chroí."

"Sit on you—?"

The tables had turned, and now you were the one feeling clueless. His eyes locked onto your gaze once more before he said matter-of-factly,

"Sit atop my face… let me taste you. It would bring me immense joy to bring you pleasure."

Heat surged in your core from his request. Your mind went blank; all you could do was nod in agreement. Not trusting your voice right now.

Your shaky hands came to your shirt, pulling it over your head slowly. Your eyes never once left his. You unclasped your bra next, feeling tempted to cover yourself- but you refrained. Your cheeks felt hot as you watched his crimson orbs hungrily consume the sight of you stripping before him.

He was quiet as your fingers came down to your waist. You leaned back atop the bed, lifting your hips and slipping off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You felt sheepish being bare before your lover for the first time.

Bram's alluring gaze continued to rake over your body. You were enchanting. Perfect, in every way, and all his for the taking.

"You are exquisite, mo chroí."

His soft words pulled you out of your head. Your worries and doubts slipped away as he stared at you lovingly, a heartwarming smile adorning his visage.

"Come here."

He whispered, giving you his grace to inch closer. You slowly positioned yourself on your hands and knees, crawling your way up his frame. You pushed yourself off your hands, spine straightening as your thighs trembled on each side of his face.

Bram could smell your essence from the proximity. He could not help the way his eyes fixated on your slick trickling down the inside of your thigh.

"Sit."

"But… are you sure? What if I hurt you—"

"Please, sit."

His plea for you only turned you on further. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, letting your lids flutter shut before relaxing your lower half. Your hands twisted beneath your duvet the second your pussy made contact with Bram's lips.

Your lover wasted no time darting his tongue out, experimentally prodding at your entrance. You whined from the cool wet sensation, knuckles turning white from how fiercely your hand twisted into the duvet.

Bram's tongue greedily lapped up your essence, groaning against your pussy from your taste. His head went fuzzy; being enveloped by you in this way was exhilarating. He was not well versed in such lewd acts, but he gave it his all to please you.

His lengthy tongue gradually began thrusting in and out of your dripping hole. Your hips bucked forward on instinct as he explored the deepest parts of you, picking up his pace over time. You could not control your hips as they continued to rut against his mouth.

It felt good— too good. You were unsure how long you would last with how faultlessly Bram pleasured you. You would be lying if you said you had not thought about being intimate with your lover in this way. But he surpassed your expectations; you were on cloud nine.

"Bram—!"

You cried out, only dragging your eyelids open when his tongue pulled out of your entrance, slotting to prod at your clit instead. You were shocked to find Bram gazing up at you. His ruby orbs were half-lidded, and his eyebrows were knitted in concentration as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

"F-Fuck… don't stop— please!"

You babbled, grounding your hips into his mouth as his lips circled around your puffy bud, pulling a gasp from your ruddy lips. He took that as a sign to explore further; gently, he suckled on your clit. Bram started slow, gauging your every reaction to make sure you were still feeling good. Hence, the reason his eyes trained on your face since the start.

Watching you reach nirvana because of his actions doused him with pride. Bram wanted to have you like this for the rest of his days. He hoped that in the future, he would be free of this sword-shaped nuisance.

He longed for his body, especially in moments like now. What he would give to grasp your waist, pull your cunt impossibly closer to his mouth. Letting you suffocate him as much as you wanted. His pointed nails would leave marks on your hips, no doubt. If Bram had his full body, he would be able to please you the way he knew he could. Bram yearned to have you under him one of these days, make love to you countlessly, and plug you full with his seed.

He let his fantasies play out in his mind as he sucked on your clit, with more force. Bram swirled his tongue around your nub between particularly fierce sucks, gradually finding a rhythm.

“Bram— it’s too much… feels so good, I think I’m gonna— ah!”

You hardly finished your train of thought before your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered, hips stilling against Bram’s mouth as he worked you through your high. Your thighs twitched rapidly, locking around his face the moment you came.

You felt Bram moan against your messy pussy, provoking you to shake further from the onslaught of pleasure. As a few moments ticked by, Bram slowed his ministrations against your sticky clit. Gradually, drawing his lips off your puffy bud.

You took in a shaky breath as you began to regain composure. Slowly, you crept your body down the length of the bed until your head was level with Bram’s. You collapsed beside him, bringing a shaky hand up to wipe over his slick-covered lips.

“I’m sorry… I got you all messy…”

You squeaked out, embarrassment shooting up your spine as the reality of the situation crept up on you.

“Don’t apologize, I… enjoyed every moment of that. You taste so—“

“Ah! Don’t finish that sentence… I’ll simply die of embarrassment!”

You shouted, bringing your free hand up to cover your face from Bram’s devoted gaze. A deep chuckle emitting from beside you pulled you out of your shameful tizzy.

Bram was… laughing?

The sound of his laughter filling your room made your heart pound against your sternum. It was so foreign to hear him be carefree, but you fell in love with it. The perfect melody, you reasoned.

“I don’t ever desire you to die on my watch, mo chroí. So, I suppose I will keep my lips sealed— for now.”

You could not help the laugh that slipped past your lips from his playful tone. Seeing all the different sides of Bram felt forbidden. You could not even begin to describe how lucky you felt; to be the one who got to explore the deepest parts of him.

“For now, huh? What do you say we rest for a little while— I’ll be sure to set multiple alarms so we’ll be awake before dawn. I promise! I just want to rest with you for a bit…”

You let out between yawns, abruptly feeling very sleepy from that intense orgasm your lover granted you only moments ago. Bram offered you a small smile before ultimately caving in to you like he always did.

“As you wish. But please be sure to pull the covers up, mo chroí. Besides you dying, the last thing I desire is for you to catch a cold.”

You slowly sat up from the bed, slipping on your panties and an oversized sweater. You set a few alarms on your phone; as promised, before switching the light off. As you crawled back into bed beside Bram, your hands came up to peel the duvet back far enough so you could slot yourself underneath. Making sure to cover Bram with the plush blanket as well.

“Goodnight, Bram… I love you…”

You whispered against his neck, placing a small kiss there before your droopy eyelids sealed shut. You dozed off in a matter of seconds. Bram sighed in contentment as he felt your warm breath tickle the side of his throat.

He let his eyes wander along the glowing galaxy that stretched along your ceiling. Bram could not help but think back; to the first moment he saw the artificial stars and planets. Never would he have imagined you two would be here together in such an intimate and loving way based on your first encounter.

You were the first person to show him kindness in a very long time, and you continued to be that guiding light in his life from that day forward. In this makeshift galaxy, Bram believed you were the star that burned the brightest. His favorite one.

He turned his head toward you, placing a lingering kiss atop your head. Bram finally allowed himself to succumb to slumber, eyes closing shut. Dozing off without a second thought just before whispering out,

“I love you more, mo réalta.”

mo réalta = my star

[hyvyinjie]

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒙𝒊𝒂༄˖°

ᴄᴀᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇʀɪᴇ | ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴀʀᴀᴅɪꜱᴇ

ᴍ! ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ-ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ! x ɢɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆｡ ✧° ☁︎ come be lonely with me ✧˖°.

𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹, a shadow that lingers long after the sun has set.

how curious that something so jagged and raw can be the only companion that remains.

'are you okay? '

a query like a wisp of smoke from a forgotten altar; bewitchingly deciptive, answered by a mirrored gilded lie—a guise that conceals the soul’s deepest lament, like a siren's song cloaking hidden depths.

are you okay?

of course you are.

even as the cold rain—an icy deluge that seeps into your very marrow pours. the unyielding cascade chilling you to the bone.

of course you're okay.

in a reality alive with fleeting visages and laughter like the songs of ancient bards, why does the heart still bear the burden of solitude?

people flit like restless shades, phantoms that never truly pierce the essence of your soul, leaving behind the bittersweet ache of a connection unformed.

it feels like a movie, doesn’t it?

a grand performance where you are but a spectator, watching your own life unfold on a stage where you aren’t the protagonist in your own tale.

'it'll get better!' they chirp, voices bright as the sun, yet their words seem hollow, echoing in the cavern of your heart.

but did they ever consider if it was advice you truly crave?

of course.

...not.

what you seek is a stillness, a presence that holds space for your unspoken truths.

someone who listens, even in silence.

someone like a scroll of old; their pages turned with unguarded ease, revealing tales laid bare for you to read.

'i love you.'

'i care about you.'

such phrases, tossed around like autumn leaves slowly losing their weight in the wind.

just because they slip from the tongue, do they resonate with the mind? the heart? the soul?

perhaps they do—but will one act on them when the tempest of need rages the fiercest?

the brutal truth is, the chance that words blossom into action is as rare as finding a rose in a desert.

yet, when one hurls, 'I hate you.' you feel the sting of authenticity in those words, a far more potent rawness louder than any hollow praise of love.

drip.

drip.

drip.

Is it really the rain that falls, or are those the tears you didn't know you were shedding?—

wait—you’re..crying?

the hand that reaches to brush your cheek feels like a mirage, a distant echo of touch, as if you are caressing a specter, even while knowing it is real.

'why the tears?'

ask that question, and though you don’t have the words, the tears continue to flow, a silent rebellion against a world that insists you should stay strong.

even more perplexing is the emptiness that accompanies your sorrow.

why does even crying feel so void of meaning?

"guess we're both hiding in the rain."

the effort to engage, especially with a stranger—feels monumental, leaving you unmoved, eyes cast downward, heavy with the weight of unspoken words.

everything feels exhausting.

yet, it’s clear he stands with you. and regardless of the umbrella in his hand, he never once offered shelter to himself or to you.

amidst the howling winds of a titanic uproar; a mere shadow of the inner maelstrom that echoed the battles of gods—you both stood, steadfast warriors against the squall’s wrath.

his gaze is drawn upwards, rapt in the skies as if searching for answers among the clouds—while yours remains tethered to the ground, too heavy to lift.

thunder rumbles, a low growl in the distance.

but it feels..strangely comforting now.

the stranger offers no more than his initial greeting—was it even a greeting?—and the silence stretches between you like a vast ocean.

you are two strays, wandering adrift in a deluge.

lonely together.

♡ ˚ · . 良い一日をお過ごしください、愛 !

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (teaser)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Story type: Mini-series Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. A/N: This teaser does not begin at the start of our story, but I thought this particular section was a better representation of what's to come.

Part 1 release date: February 10, 2024 at 6 pm (MST)

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags. 

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage. 

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long.

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know! Thanks for reading.

[mutualdemise]

Yandere! Blade who leaves traces of himself in every aspect of your daily life, and it’s only when you finally meet him for the first time do you realise how close he’s been this entire time.

His visage burns into your closed eyelids after that fateful meeting, that expression of his beckoning you with an eager gleam. Days after the encounter, you begin to piece it together. The recurring stranger whose hair weaves through the wind meticulously, the red petals that find themselves in every crevice of your clothes… It’s a stretch, but it’s just too strange to pass up. The two of you didn’t even exchange words, but you just know there’s something more to it than just a coincidence.

You find yourself wishing you could know a little bit more, but maybe you’re just living a daydream not worth another thought…

Too bad you’re already bound to him.

[orange-orchard-system]

"But isn't plurality weird?"

I am a poet. I am flesh powered by electricity and the breaking down of certain materials through heat and acid and other processes. I am a delicious buffet to mosquitoes. I am a strange, ginormous creature to my tiny pets. I, an animal, keep other, smaller animals inside a pen so that I may enjoy their company. I am also unable to touch these smaller animals or spend too much time around them, or my throat, eyes, and nose will start revolting against me, and breathing will become difficult. This is a common problem that runs in my family, and yet we keep these smaller animals anyway.

I did not sleep yesterday night; I did not lie down in the dark and quiet for several hours as a slab of meat in a cage in my head periodically conjured up nonsensical visions. It's suspected I have a condition in which, at random points during this period of lying down in the dark and quiet for several hours, my lungs stop doing their job, and the slab of meat in the cage in my head has to wake me up so they get back on the clock and my temporary rest does not become a permanent one. I do not always remember this when it happens, just like I do not always remember the nonsensical visions I see at night. Or day. Or whenever I rest in this manner. Yesterday I did not rest in this manner and instead watched as an indigo-black sky became gray and then blue.

I once used fine fibers from plants – strung through metal smithed and sharpened – to repair a soft visage of a creature from the masses of saltwater that cover most of our planet. I pride myself on my ability to do this well, and to leave little evidence behind that any repairs were needed in the first place. And yet, when it comes to taking that same metal and simply stabbing it in a certain point on a canvas of fabric held in place, so that my fine rope of fibers may slowly create an image to be admired, I struggle. I struggle like I struggle to remember if I have given my flesh prison the sustenance and nutrients it needs to work and move. I struggle like I struggle to lie down in the dark and quiet for several hours.

Perhaps later today I will slather goo on the remaining evidence that I am but a buffet for mosquitoes, in order to not be slowly tortured by them and my body's revolt against me (because of course, revolting against me due to being in the presence of smaller animals for too long is not enough – no, my flesh prison must also be especially weak to the spit these bloodsuckers leave behind when they are finished feasting). If I do, I will do it while talking to the beings who share my life, flesh prison, and slab of meat in the cage in my head, all as we struggle to remember whether or not we have given our flesh prison its daily vitamins.

Of course plurality is weird. Everything is weird! Isn't that wonderful?! You can turn everything into a poem and be filled with wonder just by thinking about the everyday things you don't question!! The world is weird!! Life is weird!! To live in this world is to be weird!! And we all get to be weird living here in this world together! Hello, world! Hello, life! Hello, world and life that are stranger than fiction!! I'm glad I get to be weird and plural in a strange world such as this!!

[wonysugar]

i’ll wake you up | son hyeju

synopsis : she looked just like the moon.. maybe that’s why you took her gaze as an invitation to doze off.

pairing : stranger!hyeju x sleepdeprived!femreader

genre : fluffy! strangers to… NOT strangers? idk reader thinks hyeju is pretty

tags : subway, reader is TIREDDD, fluff, one shot, that’s basically it lmfao

word count : 1k (?)

12:29 am.

you thought that living so far away from your university was going to help romanticize your studies more, yknow! make you wanna glam up and actually wanna go on campus in the first place. turns out, after a couple of semesters, you were more than wrong,

and you realized that just now, especially since it’s, again, 12:29 am and you’re trying to get back home using public transport whilst also running on barely 2 hours of sleep!

being in this type of situation made you rethink your whole original thought process; romanticizing my ass, you thought, i don’t even have a car, who made me think getting into a university that far away from my home was a good idea??

as you pondered, you didn’t realize how your eyes seemed to close by themselves, almost like they were being forcefully shut tight by some invisible force; despite the numerous loud noises assaulting your ears, the ones that would prevent you from falling asleep in an average context, you were getting dangerously close to snoozing. you fought back and mentally slapped yourself to stay conscious, of course, not wanting to doze off in the middle of some practically empty subway, (especially not this late into the night). the thought of finally getting some rest, however, no mind the place, was very tempting. 

god, what you would’ve done to be in your bed at that moment.

as time passed, you were getting more and more absorbed by your own progressively ambiguous thoughts and felt your eyes get heavier, eventually falling deeper into a state of deep and extreme fatigue. 

it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a few minutes, right? you thought.

giving into the desire, you finally allowed your eyes to take a break and closed them, feeling almost immediate relief when you did.

until that relief turned into annoyance.

your eyes attempted to rest for what felt like only a small minute, the only thing preventing you from fully falling into a deep state of slumber being the movement of the transport and the stress of potentially missing your stop.

this was useless, only thing you could do was push through the whole ride and crash into your bed as soon as you get home.

when your eyes eventually fluttered back open, you raised your head back up and blinked away the sleepiness, allowing yourself to get used to reality, the setting and environment of the subway becoming familiar to you again. because, despite that break being short, it was enough for you to feel like you were dreaming. 

you cluelessly looked around, from the left to your right; the latter being the direction that your head was strangely leaning into. you were immediately greeted by an unexpected sight. 

a woman that looked about your age, but something about her somehow radiated maturity. her visage was coated with nothing but gentleness, yet her gaze was so strangely stern and tense, offering a balanced contrast to her face; she looked intimidating, yet had more than a welcoming aura. the girl’s facial structure was beautiful, too, but you mostly noticed how her long, wavy and healthy-looking black hair gracefully fell onto the slightly chubby sides of her face before you observed all of her other features with close attention. 

her mouth had somewhat of a downward triangular shape, it almost looked like a natural pout; you still could barely register anything in front of you at that moment, but you knew it was captivating.

man, you thought, she’s really pretty.

then, you realized that the reason why she was staring at you in that worried, puzzled manner.

you fell asleep on her shoulder.

“a-are you okay—“

before she could finish her sentence, that realization made you quickly snap back into reality and freak, very clearly embarrassed out of your damn mind, “shit, i’m so so sorry i didn’t mean to doze off like that, dear god i’m sorry—“

“i-it’s fine. i promise, it’s okay.” she waved her hands around wearing a subtle and compassionate smile, nervously trying to make you understand that what you did was completely harmless. 

you? you rubbed your eyes, groaning. you were still mentally slapping yourself for doing something that embarrassing; you rested your head and slept on a stranger’s shoulder. a stranger. it may not seem like that big of a deal, but to someone as socially awkward and anxious as yourself? this was suicide.

giggling to herself at your visible and quite frankly unnecessary distress, she slightly tugged on your shirt as a way to catch your attention. once she had it, she proceeded,

“you’re okay, it didn’t bother me at all, i swear. if anything, you probably need to get more hours of sleep if you just take naps on people’s shoulders like that.”

all you could do was look away in a guilty and embarrassed manner, she was right.

then, she spoke up again. “i’ll tell you what,” she smiled, before asking, “which one’s your stop?” 

you stumbled on your words, still slightly fatigued, before answering, “uh.. l-lampfield.”

“ah,” she said softly, smiling politely, “that’s my stop too. it won’t be a while till we get there, so.. you can sleep some more.” 

“but—“

“i insist. seriously don’t worry about it.” 

“o-okay… alright.” you shyly nodded.

she gently wrapped her arm around you and placed her hand behind your head, carefully pushing it onto her shoulder yet again. a sense of relief and comfort invaded your entire body upon being in small contact with her hands, especially when her fingers nicely massaged your scalp.

with every word she softly spoke, she lit up the entire dark subway with light. she radiated light with her presence alone; not sunlight, though… something more discreet than sunlight, something that quietly heals you and keeps you safe from the nearby darkness, unlike the sun that exhibits it for everyone to see. something like… moonlight.

yeah, you figured it out, that’s what she looked like. 

she looked like the moon. 

maybe that’s why it was so effortless to just fall asleep around her.

you let yourself get comfortable as you leaned against her for support. and before you felt yourself get sleepy once again, this time from her tender touch, you heard her same familiar voice place in a few words. words that made you feel safer than any lullaby ever could, words that made you wonder if you would get the chance to ever ask her name.

“i’ll wake you up.”