#(the quote is from the song 'Light' by Sleeping at Last)

[wonder-worker]

'The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here...'

ELIZABETH OF YORK | happy birthday @richmond-rex <3

[toomuchracket]

it's only been a year (birthday party matty x reader fluff)

surprise! happy 1st anniversary of the blog, and therefore to these fuckers. love you all. enjoy <3

matty’s so glad you're here.

not that he doesn't love his job, because he really, really does - and, to be honest, playing music for lovely people with his best friends has never felt like a proper shift to him - but the touring sparkle is starting to fade a bit now. it's been nonstop for almost two years, the end of this album cycle is in sight, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he's not as young as he once was. the tiredness catches up to him faster, because the adrenaline doesn't last as long, and all the dancing around is taking a bit more of a toll on his body than it used to (which reminds him: put the knee support on before travelling tomorrow). what used to be hours-long hedonistic afterparties have turned into staying backstage for a couple of drinks at most, before hurrying to the hotel for a hot shower to soothe the muscles in the voice and the rest of the body, and then getting as much sleep as possible. arguably, not particularly rock'n’roll, nor very exciting.

but you're here. at the shows, on the planes and trains and buses, and, currently, cueing up an episode of derry girls from the bed in matty's (well, both of your) hotel room. and because you are, the sparkle is still there, still glimmering away like glitter under strobe lights. he's not in the habit of quoting or relating to abba songs (although it's been happening more often recently, probably because of your love for mamma mia), but matty thinks they hit the nail on the head in super trouper - he truly cannot be sad knowing you're in the crowd, seeing you dance along to his songs and smile at him like he hung the moon.

wrapping the towel around his waist, matty steps out of the bathroom, and immediately smiles (probably gormlessly) at the sight of you, frowning cutely as you try to get netflix to load; his heart melts when you push up your glasses, then turn to beam at him when you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. “hi, baby. how you feeling?”

“tired,” matty sighs, smiling again when you climb off the bed and peck him on the lips, before tugging him into a cuddle. he hums. “thanks, sweetheart.”

“s'ok,” you press a kiss to his chest tattoo, a move so tender that it never fails to weaken his knees. “d'you want me to make you a hot chocolate while you get ready for bed?”

matty pulls back to look at you, brow furrowed. “we have hot chocolate?”

“there's a setting for it on the coffee machine.”

“there is? i didn't notice.”

“yeah, it's in french.”

“oh,” matty laughs, kissing your head. “this is really a recurring thing for us, isn't it? you keeping me right with drinks in europe because you're the only one of us who can speak french. thank god you were a pretentious teenager, darling.”

you blink at him. “you're taking the piss out of me for being a pretentious teenager?”

“well, i’m not the one who learnt another language so i could read the original text of les mis,” matty smirks. “how's that going, by the way?”

your face takes on the adorably bashful expression matty loves so much. “haven't even finished it in english yet,” you say, before crumbling into laughter that matty can't help joining in on - fuck, he loves you so much. when he tells you as much, you kiss him again. “i love you, too. now - hot choc, or no?”

“i'll take one, please, darling.”

“okay,” you kiss his nose, beaming at the way he scrunches it when you do. “can you see if you can get netflix to work once you're dressed, please, babe?”

“course, darling.”

“thank you, lover.”

there's a final kiss, then you let go of matty and wander to the coffee machine; as silly as it sounds, because you're only about three feet away from him, he misses you as soon as you leave his arms. having you in them, being in yours… that's matty's favourite thing in the world, and he'd gladly sacrifice most other things in life to have it for five minutes longer every morning and night, ten more minutes per day of him just being yours and you just being his.

although, looking at you now, it's so clear that those things are true even without him holding you - the hoodie you're wearing is an old one of his (that honestly looks better on you), the boxers you're wearing as pyjama shorts are his, and he's preeeeetty sure the overly-long nike sports socks you're wandering around in are also his. he gives parts of himself to you, and you accept them gladly, proudly displaying that you're completely his; in heart and mind and soul, too, not just in wardrobe.

he still can't get over that. he doesn't think he ever will.

once he's dressed (clothes warm, because you were sweet enough to put them on the radiator for him) and the tv has loaded properly, matty settles into bed, beaming at you as you wander over with his drink and giggling when you place it on the bedside table and just crawl over him to get to your side of the bed. he kisses the side of your head as you snuggle into him. “you're not having one, darling?”

“nah,” you let out a world-weary sigh. “i've had far too much chocolate today as is. remind me never to agree to going to a gig in switzerland ever again. s'awful for my digestion.”

matty laughs. “or you could just, you know, not eat chocolate.”

you frown adorably at him. he laughs again. “or not.”

“thank you,” your face softens. “s'good, though. try the hot chocolate, see for yourself.”

“right,” matty takes a sip, humming happily at the rich sweetness. “mhmm. yeah.”

“amazing, isn't it?”

he nods, swallowing, then grins. “nowhere near as sweet as you, though.”

“oh, you sap!” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into matty’s chest in mild embarrassment while he giggles; he can feel you smiling through his t-shirt, though. “put the telly on, i can't cope.”

he obliges, free hand coming up to stroke your hair as you watch the episode in relative calm - that is, aside from the two of you constantly laughing at the onscreen antics, and from you covering matty's mouth in an attempt to stop him doing his god-awful impression of a northern irish accent. the whole experience is really domestic, as sweet as the hot chocolate matty finished ten minutes into the episode, the perfect end to a busy work day.

matty stretches when the episode ends, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your chest. “time is it, sweetheart?”

“ten past midnight,” you yawn; suddenly, though, you perk up. “oh! happy anniversary, baby!”

he smiles into your chest, dragging himself up to hover over you. “happy anniversary, my girl,” he coos, thumbs stroking your pretty face. “i love you.”

“i love you,” you smile. “kiss, please?”

matty nods, leaning down to press his lips to yours; on instinct, you open your mouth as soon as he does, soundtracked by a sigh that makes his head spin. even now, a year on from it, every kiss you share feels like the very first one up against the wall in the smoking area, full of passion and adrenaline and just total love and devotion that you'd both kept buried for each other for years. the only difference is that now, 365 days on, you know exactly how to kiss matty to make him melt - a moan slips from his throat as you softly swipe your tongue around the perimeter of his lips, which in turn makes you smile, and another follows when you gently bite his lower lip and drag it to release. but it's the way you beam at him afterwards, breathing just as heavily as he is, that gets matty most, makes him hug you as tightly as he can and press little kisses all over your face and hair and get you giggling (his favourite sound in the world).

once you've both caught your breath, kissed some more, and caught your breath again, you speak. “d'you want your anniversary present now, baby?”

matty grins. “yeah. you want yours?”

“yeah,” you beam. reaching across to your bedside table, you take out a little wrapped gift and hand it to him. “for you.”

“thank you, sweet girl,” matty kisses your forehead, rolling off you to pull a thin box from his bag at the side of the bed. “for you.”

“thanks, darling,” you kiss him softly. “go on, you open yours first.”

“alright,” matty carefully rips the brown paper - after smiling, lovesick, at for the love of my life written on it in your unmistakable handwriting - to find what looks like a zine, small enough to fit in his back pocket. he laughs in slight shock at the cover, displaying both of your first initials in a heart and subtitled year one, and this continues when he flicks through the pages. the very first has a picture of the two of you at that fateful birthday party, taken by a friend across the table, as well as one of the receipt for dinner, with little hearts drawn on either side of the listing for your favourite wine; the next, a short typed-out musing ‘written on matty's couch. he's in love with me. he knows i'm in love with him. i've never been so happy in my life. i fell asleep thinking my heart might burst, and that feeling hasn't left me at all. this is true love. i know it now’.

flicking through the pages - he so badly wants to spend time poring over every single one, but he knows now isn't the time - matty feels the exact same way. you've always been shockingly good at gift-giving when it comes to him, but this… this is the best thing anyone's ever done for him.

he doesn't even think love is a strong enough word to describe how he feels about you, to be honest.

you smile when he tells you as much, lifting his hand to kiss it. “i'm glad you like it, baby. i had a lot of fun compiling everything. it was just constant reminders of how much i love you - although, i agree, it's not a strong enough word. maybe i should come up with an alternative. like how coleridge did with soulmate.”

“thank fuck he did, by the way,” matty sighs, leaning in to kiss you. “what would i call you otherwise?”

“i'm sure you'd figure it out. you're very good with words.”

“not when it comes to you, darling,” he smiles. “and that's actually relevant to your gift, so…”

“point taken,” you wink, lifting the lid. your beautiful face takes on a confused expression as you lift out a thin, a3-sized hardback book. “this looks like one of your lyric books from stage…”

“it does, a bit, yeah.”

“...and it has my name on the front,” your jaw drops, and you open the book so frantically that matty can't help but giggle; he laughs even harder when you look up at him, aghast. “this is a score. you wrote me a song?”

“kind of, sweetheart. i mean, i've written you lots of songs already-”

“but none explicitly with my name!”

“no, that's true,” matty moves to sit behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he feels you relax immediately, which is good, because for a second he thought you were about to go into genuine shock. “and this one is slightly different in another way, too.”

“it is?”

“yeah. look - there aren't any lyrics,” he takes your hand in his own, dragging your finger over the score to show blankness where the words would appear over the stave. “when i said a minute ago that i wasn't good with words when it comes to you, i mean it. you're literally the only person in the world that can render me speechless; trying to concisely convey everything i love about you in words that 1) made sense and 2) worked in a song was impossible. so i figured i would just let the music do the talking,” matty kisses your head. “no lyrics, parts for almost a full orchestra plus the instruments i'm used to writing for… this isn't a song, darling, it's a symphony, the one that plays in my head whenever i think about you.”

“matthew,” your voice is shaky when you say his name; when you turn to look at him, he notices your jaw is too, the telltale sign that you're about to burst into tears. “i think you're absolutely fucking mental. and i love you, i love you, i love you,” your voice cracks into a sob on the last you, and you bury your face in your boyfriend's neck while you cry. “that's the most romantic thing anyone could do, i think, and you did it for me. what the fuck!”

matty giggles, caressing your back and kissing your head soothingly. “s'the least i could do, really.”

“oh, shut up.”

“alright,” he coaxes you out of hiding, wiping your tears away and kissing your nose. “i'll play it for you when we get to a piano tomorrow, yeah?”

“i'd like that,” you peck his lips. “thank you, my love.”

“you're welcome, darling. and thank you for the little zine about us - can't wait to read that tomorrow, too.”

you nod happily - suddenly, your eyes widen. “wait! that reminds me: i got you something else too. and i want us to use them tomorrow.”

“let's see, then,” matty sits up in anticipation, but almost immediately slumps back down exasperatedly when he sees the rolling papers in your hand. “baby…”

“what? it's on-theme!” you grin. “it’s paper! the thing you're meant to give and get to celebrate a first anniversary. and, let's be serious, it was me wanting to smoke that got us here, wasn't it?” 

“you’re incorrigible, sweetheart,” matty shakes his head, hand tracing patterns into your thigh; he can't help but smile, though. “but alright - tomorrow, at some point, we'll smoke.” 

“promise?”

“for fuck's sake,” he sighs. “i promise, even though i think you're demented.” 

you beam. “thanks. i love you!” 

“i love you, too, darling.”

[senelope]

wish i'd never met you (s. gojo x f!reader)

famous!gojo x reader ; 7.4k words ; angst / smut ; minors dni

You dream of stage lights and sold out shows. But all your voice provides are little jingles – for cat food advertisements. All of that changes – in the best and worst ways – when you meet Satoru Gojo, who owns the life you can only fantasize about. And, someone who knows a thing or two about bringing your fantasies to life.

The sky was dyed with a dusty pink hue as the sun set, and yet another work day came to a close with you frustratingly slamming your laptop closed. Yet another disappointing melody.

How were you supposed to be a famous artist if you couldn’t even finish a song first? 

And that wasn’t even the job you were at. To pay the bills, you pick up odd jobs here and there, most recently being a freelance voice actress for an up and coming organic cat food company. Meowmy! You’d screeched in a high-pitched voice until the co-founders – famous idol turned business woman Nobuko Takada, and her manager, a large man named Aoi Todo – were happy. 

“You wanna come to our surprise birthday party?” asked Nobuko at your last recording session, winking, sending the invitation to your phone, which vibrated in your back pocket. 

“Oh, happy birthday,” you said, sliding your headphones off and walking out of the recording studio.

“Not hers,” Aoi said, when you were standing beside them in the recording studio. The lights from the machines hurt your eyes; you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night trying to write new songs you hoped would either go viral or get you an agent. “It’s for my brother, Yuji.”

“Yuji Itadori?” you asked, brightening. Takada was a well known idol, so there did stand a chance that her manager was related somehow to the famous martial arts actor who was currently taking social media by storm.

Aoi brightened, making the burly man look far more approachable. “That’s him.”

“Hey,” began Nobuko, excitedly. “Weren’t you looking for a replacement performer? Since Gojo canceled at the last minute?”

You gasped at the name drop. Satoru Gojo was a media sensation – a down right superstar. Starting off as the bright center to a boy band named Honored Ones, then establishing rockstar success with his chart-topping album The Honored One announcing his solo career debut. He’d next taken the acting world by storm, and with his martial arts abilities, was also known to be Yuji Itadori’s mentor, Satoru himself having been the one who scouted him while on a trip where he also scouted the reserved Megumi Fushiguro as a soulful singer. 

But you didn’t want to give in so easily. And especially without hearing a contract mention or a price quote. You had to look after yourself alone, so you had to prioritize yourself first.

So you cleared your throat, and asked what they’d pay you. The price that Nobuko said made your eyes bulge, especially when you registered the even higher price that Aoi said immediately as Nobuku finished. She tilted her head in Aoi’s direction.

“Nevermind, then. What he said,” she said, sliding her giant designer sunglasses over her wide golden eyes. She tightened her ponytails after stretching. “We’ll send the performance money soon as you walk through Aoi’s penthouse.”

You gulped. This wasn’t the first-time the wealthiest of your clients reminded you of their overflowing pockets. “I’ll see you there. Do you want covers, or originals?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she said, not looking at you as she began to leave, Aoi right behind her, holding her purse and car keys. 

“Do whatever you want.” The duo left, and you decided to spend the remaining half an hour you had in the studio – it charged by the hour – on trying to record new original songs you might perform. 

But, by that time, the sun was setting and you had no worthwhile melody to show for it. 

Looks like covers it was. Oh, well. Satoru wouldn’t mind if you covered his songs, right? Plus, he wasn’t even going to be there. At least you were used to belting his songs in the shower, so not much time would go to memorizing and practicing. And it had the added bonus of having absolutely nothing to do with cat food. What more could a girl ask for?

Satoru didn’t have the bandwidth for this. His manager was talking about how he had to stop his homewrecking tendencies – in fact, keeping up with hiding them was costing them all the royalties that still came in from his debut. But how was he supposed to do that when the men and women who caught his eye just deserved his touch, regardless of what shone on their ring finger. Oh, whatever. 

“Alright, Suguru, I got it,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “You’re ruining my appetite. I needa be hungry for Yuji’s birthday bash. I gotta eat lots of it. I mean, I chose the cake personally.” He reconsidered. “Well I told Todo what to order –”

“You’re not going,” Suguru said, flipping his smartphone – the newest electric blue one of the folding line Samsung came out with in collaboration with Satoru – closed with attitude. “But I still am. It’s your punishment.”

“But I’m performing,” Satoru said, sputtering. “C’mon, Suguruuu!”

“Canceled with Todo this morning. You are going to spend your evening crafting an apology statement for sleeping with both of Jogo’s wives. His current and his ex!”

Satoru snickered. “They married him for his money anyway. I was the one gracious enough to give them some of this co–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Suguru said, waving his hand. “You have a reputation. I don’t need you reminding the public of it so soon before the announcement! So no more fooling around. With anyone.”

Satoru felt any drop of joy he had from remembering about defiling Jogo’s ex and next disappearing. Of course, he had to be reminded of his obligations. 

When he and Suguru had been young and dumb and had signed the first contract that allowed them to break their boy band contracts and do what they wanted to do then – debut Satoru as a solo singer and Suguru as his manager. They had thought they were older and wiser – but apparently, they weren’t mature enough to think ahead to what a ten year representation contract might mean. No matter where you wanted to take your career – Satoru opening a performing arts school where he was one of the main instructors, and Suguru opening his own management studio – you couldn’t. 

But – they’d finally managed to negotiate something. The absolute last thing that Satoru wanted to do. But what choice did he have? He had to free both himself and Suguru. And besides. He’d ignore it for as long as could, until the day he couldn’t, whatever day the higher ups decided was the day of the life-altering announcement.

He pouted, trying to remove all thoughts of the horrible thing from his mind and focus on the matter at hand. 

And, as predicted, Suguru weakened. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Fine. If you finish writing the apology and get it to me by the time the party ends, you can come. No performing though, too late to change our mind. And please. I’m begging you – no scandals! The only ‘sweet’ thing your lips better be on is a frosting covered fork.” Suguru said, sounding like a tired father and a stern teacher at once.

Satoru cheered, jumping up and down while Suguru rolled his eyes and said something mean about his monkey-like-behavior. 

“I’ll shove a banana up your ass,” Satoru said, ceasing to a slow stop, but still smiling. “If you call me a monkey one more time.”

“All I said is that your fans shouldn’t go to the zoo if they’ve been to your concerts anyway,” Suguru said, smirking. 

Satoru flipped him off as he left Suguru’s office to head home. 

His media trained ass was going to have to pull out all the stops for this apology. Yippee , he thought bitterly. 

Near the end of this hard, hard work, while editing his apology statement to fit the character requirement for Twitter – Suguru required him to construct the apology in several different mediums, from a tell-all Youtube apology script to a buzzy headline for the publishing company they’d sell the letter – he thought of his canceled performance.

He’d actually been looking forward to it, but that was more so because he missed having an audience. His world tour had ended a few months ago, and he and his ego missed the crowds yelling his name, sold out stadiums full of people begging for him to meet their eyes just even once. 

“Who’re they gonna get as cool as me,” he remarked to himself irately, blowing a strand of his silver hair out of his eyes. The competitive feelings that suddenly filled his body fueled him to finish his apology assignment in the nick of time, wrapping up medium after medium. He’d now get there just after his probably-shitty-and-ugly-replacement started their performance. 

The sounds of a familiar bouncy bassline fills the halls of Todo’s very excessively decorated penthouse. Animal print shag rugs, tacky gold statues of dogs in suits, and shiny glittering chandeliers, to name a few characteristics that leave Satoru’s more fine tastes wanting more decorum. Courtesy of his upbringing as the heir to an old-money family whose bloodline was as old as Japan itself. 

It was his newest single, the one that was topping charts. Except, instead of his deep, raspy voice, rang a sweet, sultry one. 

“ You don’t love me / you just steal my clothes / live in my house ‘cause I can’t say no, ” the voice sang, having apparently reached the catchy chorus. 

And when he finally reached Todo’s rooftop terrace – where the performance was taking place on a circular neon blue stage with Tokyo’s skyline as a backdrop – he finally saw the voice of the absolute siren singing his song.

You. 

“ When we fuck, shit it feels like love / feels like love, and it’s so messed up ,” you said, swaying to the beat with your eyes closed as you sang the song with a softer, more sorrowfilled intonation than Satoru had felt comfortable voicing. Your eyelashes fluttered as you opened your eyes, and it was almost like your gaze and Satoru’s were paired like magnet poles, meeting the second your beautiful lens revealed themselves. 

Satoru’s heart stuttered to a stop for one fateful second. And he reeled it back into beating, because never in his life had Satoru ever struggled to breathe when meeting someone new. Especially not a girl who stole his song. 

You weren’t expecting your idol to treat you so frostily. The entire night had been a whirlwind of events that felt as if they’d been written straight out of your dreams – compliments upon compliments, someone had even ordered you a bouquet, recording deals with both big and indie studios – except for how Satoru Gojo was looking at you. 

And that was if he did! He didn’t even look at you when Yuji – who had loved your performance for his surprise birthday bash – introduced the two of you. 

“Great choice,” Satoru had said, staring at a spot above your head. Being so damn tall, he looked down on you, but didn’t even meet your gaze from his ‘honored’ height. 

“T-thanks,” you had said, too nervous to say anything more. He was feeling some imperceptible emotion that led him to ignore you for the rest of the conversation that you, Yuji, and he were in; you were basically just a spectator. And Yuji, bless his ignorant bright eyes, didn’t see how talking about last year’s Met gala bathroom antics would leave you – the least famous person in this room – out of the conversation. 

It wasn’t till a handsome man with waist length raven hair inserted himself into the conversation that you were acknowledged. 

You thankfully held back a starstruck gaze when you met eyes with your teenage crush, Suguru Geto. Of course, you were no longer the girl you had been when the boy band’s bass player with feline eyes had charmed you – mostly because you refused to be like every other girl who favored the leading singer Satoru – but it took real strength to hide that past.

“And who’s this beauty?” Suguru questioned, meeting your eyes with a sparkle in his eyes. You flushed immediately. 

To your surprise, Satoru answered with your name, shocking you with the way your name fit on his tongue. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Suguru said. “So you were the siren singing Satoru’s song.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Satoru blurted. 

Everyone looked at him. You were the first one to twist your head to meet his crystal blue eyes, their icey wide depths freezing you to your spot. It was an entirely different feeling to meeting Suguru’s warm, dark eyes.

“No, you didn’t,” Yuji said slowly, thick eyebrows furrowing. 

“I thought it,” Satoru said, crossing his arms. 

You ignored his response, and tried your best to gracefully thank Suguru.

“I was your biggest fan,” you gushed, unable to finish your gratitude without singing a song to your youthful infatuation. 

“Were you?” Suguru said. “I guess you’ve come full circle. I’m your biggest fan now.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, Satoru impatiently tapped his foot. 

“Listen,” Suguru said, reaching in behind his blazer, and coming out with a thick, cream colored card. He passed it to you. “Keep it on the low, but I’m starting my own studio. And I want to sign you.”

You gasped. All the blood in your body traveled either to your cheeks or to your head. You were shocked beyond measure.

“Really?”

“Really, really.” 

“Thank you so much,” you said, clasping your hands together while your face uncontrollably contorted into one signaling exceptional gratitude.

“I’ll train her personally,” Satoru suddenly said, just as Suguru’s mouth opened. His manager gave Satoru a look as he made a face, something between confusion and disbelief.

“Just like me!” Yuji said excitedly, before anyone could object. 

“Um, are you sure, sir? Are you not, well, busy?” You wished to ask if he even liked you in the first place, for he hadn’t made any indication of enjoying your presence. But this was the more socially acceptable way of asking.

“Not nearly enough to resist instructing the next generation!” He said, in a familiar cheery voice you were used to hearing on talk show interviews and conventions. 

Well … You decided to forget about his earlier treatment of you, hoping it was a fluke. After all, this was Satoru Gojo. Biggest star to grace the stage since rock artist Yoshinobu Gakuganji, the worldwide phenomenon of the generation before. You would be a fool to turn down his mentorship. 

And so, you shot him your brightest smile. You had high hopes, and you hoped that this was the beginning of the rest of your dream life.

Satoru was blinded by your beauty. He had done his best to resent you, his replacement, the new talent. Especially after he had heard you singing his song better than he could have ever dreamed. But, he knew that the harder he tried to force his hate, instead, the harder something else would grow.

Namely, his cock. 

Even though he had promised Suguru no scandals, that the only thing that would be in his mouth today was cake – he couldn’t help but want some other sweet cake to devour. Yours.

He couldn’t help it. Anyone he deemed on his level – usually after some more dramatic reaction, which in this case happened to be an immature resentment towards you that hardly lasted even a few minutes – he wanted to nurture, to own, even. 

It of course took Suguru’s entrance and observation for his initial frostiness to dissolve. 

“And who’s this beauty?” Suguru asked, reminding Satoru that not only had you sung his song the way it should’ve been recorded all along, you were also gorgeous to boot. All your lines and all your curves drew out a figure he wanted to memorize with his hands. Or maybe his tongue. At least his eyes were lucky enough to try.

So, to his surprise – and apparently yours, too, judging by the way your mouth adorably parted and your eyes widened – he answered with your name. He resisted saying anything more that could – and would – be a giveaway to the new direction his thoughts were going in.

“I’ll train her personally,” Satoru suddenly said later, further surprising himself, and Suguru too, judging by the questionable look his best friend gave him. 

“Um, are you sure, sir? Are you not, well, busy?” 

Sir? Well, fuck him, then.

“Not nearly enough to resist instructing the next generation!” He said, in his favorite voice to use when charming audiences. 

And that’s when you blinded Satoru with a wide smile. Your sweet lips trembled shyly as you met his eyes, and he resisted the urge to lick his lips. He chose to smirk instead, which makes you redirect your gaze to your toes. He made you nervous, huh? What a sweet little thing. How could he have chosen to hate you? You were just what he needed – an innocent, new sparkling talent for him to sharpen and shine. He imagined your rise to stardom, and imagined how everyone would look at his latest, sexiest protegee. How everyone would cheer when he kissed you, when the nation’s favorite man laid his lips on the newest national sweetheart. He didn’t think about the arrangement to come at all. His cock pulsed as blood rushed to his crotch, and he hoped his buttoned blazer hid his staining erection. 

“I’ll have Suguru text you the details,” Satoru said flippantly. “I have my own recording studio at home. We can practice there.” Suguru rolled his eyes, but got to work immediately, whipping his work phone out and texting the number you spelled out since you didn’t have a business card of your own. “I’ll see you then.”

The week that sandwiched your first meeting and your next flew by quickly for Satoru; a Vogue photoshoot followed by recording his surprise appearance as a celebrity judge on a cooking show filled the early half of his week, the latter half consisting of chemistry readings for the pilot of a new drama where his role hadn’t been decided yet, so he had to perform multiple different combinations of the scripts.

By the time your bright and bushy tailed excitement greeted him, though, he was tired. And he guessed it was plainly evident.

“Are you alright?” you asked sweetly. “I could get you a coffee if you’re tired?” 

“Aww, no, I couldn’t have the new talent fetch me a coffee!” He laughed brightly. “I’m already more awake now that you’re here.”

“You’re such a charmer,” you said, rolling your eyes, and crossing your arms, directing Satoru’s attention to the furrow of skin between your breasts deepening. He sucked on the top row of his teeth, imagining digging them into the soft skin there, leaving bruising bite marks on the silky spheres. “Do you talk to everyone like this?”

“No, just you,” Satoru said, grinning. He flicked your forehead gently. You giggled. Satoru wished they’d already been recording; he’d have loved to have trapped that delicious little sound into a few seconds long audio clip. What a cute lil alarm noise that could’ve been.

“Sure, sure,” you said, turning away from him, though not before Satoru saw the edges of your flushed cheeks. “Where do we start?” 

Satoru came close behind you, grabbing the hand most on top of your crossed arms. He pressed his palm to the top of your skin, his heart pounding as he did so. He moved your joined grasp to rest on the center of your chest. He smelled your shampoo scent as he leaned down to talk near your ears. The jut of his plush bottom lip brushed against your ear with every low vowel. 

“Breathe,” he instructed. Your chest rose slowly as you sucked in air according to his instructions, and fell with a faster speed as you exhaled. Some of Satoru’s bangs tickled his forehead as your breath rushed out. “Repeat it, but slower exhale. Control it. Then, I want you to hold a note for as long as you can. Whatever one you want.” 

You listened, and did so immediately. “What a good girl,” he told you. Your voice wavered, and he wondered if the beat he felt through your hands from your chest was your heart skipping a beat, or your voice straining to stay steady.

“T-thank you, sir,” you said. Satoru wondered if your words were respectful – or teasing. He was hoping too much, he realized, and he stepped away from you, releasing the heavy tension the moment held, lightening the mood in the room immediately.

“You’ve got a clear voice, and strong lungs,” Satoru said, turning away from you as he adjusted his pants without you noticing. “Impressive.”

“Thank you again!”

He laughed, petting your head with soft pats before he realized he was lifting his hand to do so. He rolled with it. “No need to thank me. Call me Gojo-sensei if you respect me that much,” he said, winking. 

Now you laughed, another sweet, addictive melody for his ears. Your giggle now had a companion in his mind’s radio. “Okay, Gojo-sensei. What’ve you got to teach me? I’ve had enough of your compliments.” 

“Oh, really? Not fond of praise?” Satoru asked, teasing.

You bit your lip. “That’s not what I –” You giggled again, making Satoru grin. “I’m excited to learn, Gojo-sensei.”

Oh, gods be damned. He shouldn’t have asked for it. But he had. Now he had a long list of other things he wanted to beg you for. 

He cleared his throat, wishing it would clear his dirty mind too. He had promised to teach you. So he redirected his efforts, and tried his best to redirect his blood to his brain. Worked somewhat, but the tingling desire between his legs as the two of you spent the rest of the day – and well into the night – talking and singing and writing together. 

Satoru hadn’t been this happy writing music in so long, and even wrote something he was confident was his best work yet throwing ideas with you. Maybe he needed to spend more time as a solo musician before completely redirecting his talents to acting and instructing. No, he’d done enough to establish himself as a singer. He wanted to expand what he was known for, and solidify even more his reputation as the greatest performer of today. 

You were the future. You’ll be a shining star, he thought, one that blinds everyone with your brilliance.

“Thank you,” you said genuinely, turning your head away from him as you packed up for the day. He realized belatedly that he’d accidentally spoken aloud. Gods, he hadn’t complimented someone like that in ages. “That means a lot to me, coming from you.”

“I thought you were Suguru’s biggest fan,” Satoru said, teasing you, squinting his eyes, unable to help himself from reminding you of your words that still had him jealous. He was used to being the favorite. And even if Suguru was his best friend – he wanted to be your favorite. 

You sighed. “I … I have a confession.” You put down your now packed bag. You looked back into Satoru’s eyes.

“What?” He leaned forward, hovering closer to your face as the two of you sat next to each other on the couch in his office, having moved there long ago. Oh, he was so curious … 

“ You were my favorite,” you blurted. “I just wanted to be – not like other girls.”

Satoru couldn’t help it. First he was shocked. Then, once he realized your logic, he started to laugh. So hard he even brought a few tears to his eyes. You whacked him on his arm. 

“Don’t laugh at me!”

But as you went to bring your arms back beside you, Satoru caught your bunched up fingers in his much larger hand. He squeezed your fist. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. Satoru Gojo was your favorite. Him, and nobody else. Oh, he was so glad. 

Your face burned as Satoru reminded you of your little white lie. That Suguru was your favorite, a lie you’d shared with many others when the topic of their band arose. 

That burn didn’t compare to the one spreading across your cheeks and up your neck from your chest as Satoru laughed.

And that burn didn’t compare to the one roaring in your heart as Satoru squeezed the hand you’d used to hit him jokingly. 

Neither of those hot feelings compared to the burning fire between your legs when Satoru used the hand he was holding to pull your face close to him. His left leg pressed against your outer thigh, sending another flash of heat to your core even at the slight contact. 

His breath ghosted over your lips, and your eyes met. The hungry look in his pale gaze conveyed the message. You’d have to be the one to bite the bullet he’d loaded. And so, heart straining from the combined joy of your past and current Satoru Gojo obsessed self wanting this moment to never end, you kissed him.

Instantly, Satoru transformed. From the first gentle contact of your lips, he was a perfect gentleman for all of three seconds, trapping your bottom lip between his. But once he began sucking, he couldn’t stop devouring you like a man without any decorum. He inhaled you as he kissed you, bringing you close to his body, tangling his arms around your back as he sank into the couch and you fell down with him. You twisted your body to lay more comfortably against his, realizing too late that that would mean unimpeded contact between your cunt and his cock through your clothing. 

The two of you gasped at the combined warmth, which made your teeth clink against each other. 

“You want me that bad?” you asked, shocked by the sheer size of his wanting. The absolute hardness that pushed against you, almost sending you to a mental institution by how his cockhead just about pressed against the crotch of your jeans to catch your clit temporarily when he shifted. You moaned as if to punctuate your observation.

“Ah,” Satoru breathed, his hands flying to cup the round curves of your hip. Your top had ridden up, and so his palms were touching bare skin. He squeezed, electrifying your sensation of his touch as he pawed at your softness. “I think you want me just as bad, baby.”

He slid his hands up from from hips to your waist to your chest, groping them like they were clay he wanted to mold to the shape of his grasp. He palmed them once more before lifting your shirt and ridding you of it. 

Your breasts wobbled when they were subsequently freed from the confines of your bra, and you watched Satoru lick his lips hungrily. 

“But don’t worry, baby,” Satoru said silkily. “I’ll take real good care of you.” He kissed you sweetly to prove his point.

Then immediately dirtied his mouth when he took a mouthful of tits to his teeth, biting down gentle enough to not hurt but hard enough to make you moan. You stretched your neck out, throwing your head back. 

“You made me so hard,” Satoru said, breathing heavily as he removed his mouth from your right breast, a string of spit connecting the two. It popped when he got far enough. “How do you plan on fixing that, hmm?”

You whimpered when he reached his hand down to feel your cunt through your jeans. Your clit pulsed, and you knew Satoru could feel it like a heartbeat. He wasted no time in ridding you of your pants, and you lifted your hips to help with the removal of your panties right after. 

“Oh, ‘Toru!” you cried out. Satoru had immediately started to explore your secret spot, parting your folds and using his fingers to collect some of your slick. He sucked it off his hands, and you got wetter, something you thought was impossible judging by the shine you had seen gathered on his thick fingers.

You trembled with desire. “Satoru. I want it. Please!” You found yourself begging.

“I’m not quite sure what you want, sweet,” Satoru said in a sing-song voice. 

Whatever restraint might’ve been keeping your mouth clean snapped. “Please, give it to me now. I want your cock inside me, now. Please!” You were near sobbing, especially as Satoru continued to play with your cunt by pressing against your clit in a rhythmic manner. 

“Bad girls don’t get to tell me where my cock goes,” Satoru scolded, slapping your bare pussy. You let out a wild cry. 

“Satoru, please,” you whined, pressing yourself into him even more. He flipped the two of you to create some space between your crotch and his. He threw your bare legs over his shoulders after ridding himself of his pants. He didn’t even return his fingers to your cunt, which made you sick with nostalgia for the mere seconds earlier when he was playing with you so deliciously. 

“Oh, darling, I know you want it. And you should know, I really want to just put it in right now – god, I do – but you have to wait…”

You closed your eyes, tilting your head back against the cushions.

“Aren’t you going to ask why you’re a bad girl?” 

“Why am I one?” you asked, giving in, opening your eyes. You saw Satoru’s bright, mischievous gaze, sparkling with delight as you responded just the way he wanted.

“ Sir.” 

“Why am I a bad girl,” you said, gulping, “ sir – Satoru?” 

“Aww, because you didn’t ask me what I want,” he said, cooing. 

You pleaded to him, begging to know what he might want to do with you. Anything would do – the burning between your legs was an uncontrollable wildfire, and there was only Satoru who could put it out. 

“I want the same thing, silly,” Satoru said, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. “Was just’ teasin’ you, yeah.” You shivered as his silver strands tickled the sensitive skin there. You yelped when he nipped at a spot there, before immediately cooling it down with his tongue tracing over it, leaving the tingling spot cool and wet. 

But there were other wet tingling spots for Satoru to pay attention to. 

He began fingering you in earnest, the motions of his fingers making squelching noises fill the room of his office. How lewd! You almost had forgotten where he was making you this weak. But who needs the bedroom?

“You’re so sexy,” Satoru murmured, crooking his fingers just so. “Makes me want to ruin you.”

“Ahh, Satoru!” you screamed. “Please, please, do whatever you want. I just wanna – ugh!” You were babbling nonsense as something built inside of you, like blocks laid atop each other to form a steep tower.

“So sexy, screaming for me. Trembling for me like this,” he said, using his other hand to press against your bare stomach to feel your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling of it all. 

Something was building inside of you, yes. And it was about to topple and break in just a bit, judging by just how hard your legs were shaking atop his shoulders, the skin of your thighs sticking and unsticking against Satoru’s sweaty chest. 

“Look so pretty coming apart on my fingers,” Satoru cooed, looking down at you with hazy, lidded eyes. His bright blue eyes were darker than usual by the dilation of his pupils, and honestly, the absolute adoration in his genuine gaze – of course, combined with his fingers – sent you over the edge. 

You couldn’t even say a word as the strongest orgasm you’d ever felt knocked the wind out of you. You shook and you shook and you shook with waves of pleasure. It was pure euphoria. 

If that was just from his fingers, then … 

Satoru seemed to have the same question. “What’re you gonna do when it’s my cock instead, pretty baby?”

Like a broken record, you couldn’t help but beg again once you regained your breath control and the shaking had subsided. 

“I’m gonna kiss you real hard,” you said, looking at his bitten red lips, shining with your combined saliva. Oh, god. It was hitting you, really, that you had done that. You were the one kissing Satoru Gojo. You were the one finger fucked by Satoru Gojo. And now – 

Satoru took off his jeans, then his boxers. Whatever train of thought you had crashed and burned as you dropped your jaw. Of course the most beautiful man in the world would have an equally beautiful cock, thick and arched, precum coating the pink tip like frosting begging you to take a lick. 

“So,” Satoru said, his voice getting a little more serious. “You still want this? If you say no, we can pretend this never –”

You arched up to kiss him square on the mouth. Hell to the no – why would you deny yourself heaven? Parting, chest heaving, you trailed a finger down his muscled abdomen and then down his pale happy trail, stopping right as your finger approached his fat tip. 

“Fuck me, Satoru,” you said, earnestly. 

Satoru kissed you gently before aligning himself with your vagina. He slotted it at your folds, and then just like that, his tip was slightly inside you, easily gliding in with how wet you were. He shook a little, and inhaled in a deep breath. Every little movement of his hips, no matter how intentional it might’ve been, rubbed at your skin down there. You can tell Satoru was doing his best to hold back, doing his best to stop from savagely thrusting into you and splitting you open with his monster of a cock. 

But you want him to. You couldn’t take it anymore. You tilted your hips, and again, because of just how wet you were, he slid in halfway quite easily. He whispered your name, his voice breaking roughly at the end. 

You stared up at the expression of ecstasy on Satoru’s face. His eyelids drooped. His shiny spit slick mouth parted. 

“You’re inside me,” you said slowly, bringing your hand to cover your face. Satoru moved it away, and instead kissed you, the movement pushing his thickness further into you. You groaned as your walls strained to accommodate him. “Fucking me.”

“N-not yet,” Satoru said, voice hoarse. He pushed all the way into your tightness. You screamed, he groaned. “And not even now.”

“It’s enough, it’s enough,” you said, eyes starting to water. “I’m going crazy.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathed, when you clenched tight around him. “I’m makin’ you crazier. Now.” He lifted himself out of you, and thrust back into you with a thwop. 

Slowly, after that first thrust, his actions became faster and smoother. Satoru showed you no patience, no gentleness, no matter how much he had wanted to and had been planning on it. He fucked you roughly, like you were two animals rutting. You called out his name again and again, no plans of stopping even as your voice grew rough with use. 

Just as you were about to cum – your walls were fluttering around Satoru as if to signal – Satoru pulled out of you and came on your stomach, flinching as warm stickiness pooled and dribbled down your waist. 

That was the first time you fucked Satoru Gojo. And that was not the last. 

Moving forward, the two of you were insatiable. The weeks leading up to your album release party was filled with debauchery. 

You blew Satoru in the recording studio Suguru rented to record the tracks; Satoru was supposed to supervise. But of course he’d rather cum on your chest. So, supervising soon turned into lewd moans and sticky thrusts that the impressive sound system captured. Satoru was careful to delete the footage – and of course, who would know he’d saved a singular copy on a flash drive just for him to listen to – just you, and you didn’t mind. 

And even after the album release party – at the after party held in the most packed club in Tokyo – the two of you couldn’t hold back. When everyone had gone to the dance floor, and just you and Satoru remained in the closed off lounge area, he pulled you into his lap and slid his cock into you, crumpling your short mini skirt to your hips and pushing aside your thin thong. Being aware anyone could come back any second, Satoru fucked you while he covered your intimate connection with his leather jacket draped over your thighs and dragging on your sweaty skin. When the two of you heard voices coming closer, once even hearing Suguru’s drunk laughter come too close for comfort, the two of you stilled under the jacket. Even in that moment of cessation, you could still feel Satoru’s cock inside you, so hot and pulsing. Satoru’s gasping breath was a treat for your hearing, and his swirling hips underneath you were a treat for your cunt. Thankfully, when Satoru and you came, the music in the club was loud as it had been since the start of the night, even louder if possible at the peak of the night, and so the two of you could groan in earnest. Plus, when the two of you got home that night, there was no stopping Satoru from taking you in every which way he desired. It was crazy how no matter what you two did, he was never tired of you. Never! 

Until one random day, a Tuesday you didn’t think was anything remarkable except for the fact that Satoru hadn’t wished you a good morning like he usually did. You were walking down a busy street in Shibuya, in dark clothes, with a mask and sunglasses hiding your face now that you were an up-coming celebrity. Then you overheard the gossip that would irreversibly change the course of your life.

Did you hear? Satoru Gojo is going to be marrying a descendant of the royal Japanese family, Princess Utahime Iori. What a fairytale!

You stopped in your tracks. 

Like a crazy person, you reached for the person who said that, frantically grabbing onto their shoulder. Believably freaked out, they flinched away. 

“S-sorry. I’m just, so, so shocked by what I accidentally overheard,” you said, trying to appear normal. “What did you say?”

“Oh,” said the stranger girl, feeling more amicable now that you’d explained yourself. “You know that famous singer-actor-everything? Satoru Gojo? He’s getting married to royalty! I mean, he basically is, too–”

“Is this for real?” You weren’t sure if this was as false as the rumor that Satoru had a foot fetish. He had a variety of kinks, but not that one. 

“Uh-huh!” said the girl’s other friend. “They just did a press release! Satoru’s quitting the performing industry to be a family man, and Suguru’s officially opening his own studio! They even signed that new singer that’s blowing up right now,” she said. Hearing your name didn’t shock you, compared to how this news felt like. Like a bucket of ice water, like a brick to the face, like something violently wrenching you out of your head and straight to reality. 

“Thanks for telling me,” you said, gulping back tears. You turned away from them, and immediately hailed a cab. At first, you intended to go home and cry your heart out. But quickly, you knew that you had to talk to Satoru first. 

The entire drive, you sat tensely, your stomach in knots. What could Satoru possibly say? There was a fucking press release, apparently. What explanation was there? You hoped he had one. You weren’t sure you would react rationally otherwise. 

The knot in your stomach tightened further when you saw how many cars were parked around Satoru’s place. Getting in without attracting attention would be difficult, but thankfully, you guys had been fooling around enough for you to know exactly how to do so. 

Before you knew it, you were in Satoru’s bedroom (sans the mask and sunglasses, which you’d put away in your purse). Sitting in the dark, like, again, a crazy person. This man was making you go crazy! You called him, and when you went to voicemail, you sent him a text asking him to come up to his room, praying that he’d see it. Anymore stress and you’d start sprouting gray hairs.

His door creaked open, and the lights came on in a flash. 

“Woah!” Satoru said, jumping back. He quickly entered the room again, closing the door shut behind him. “When’d you get here?”

“I texted you,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “What’s going on?”

Satoru looked at you with an indecipherable expression. He loudly sucked on the top row of his teeth. Then, he spoke. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.”

“I didn’t ask what’s wrong, I asked, what’s going on,” you said, crossing your arms. “I heard something about a press release.” Your tone was flat. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said, giving you a tight smile. “So you heard.”

You didn’t say anything. You wanted him to do the talking.

“It’s no big deal, really,” Satoru said. “It’s an arranged marriage, so we can keep seeing each other–”

“Wait,” you said, flabbergasted. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be? We – hold on. You cryin’?”

You didn’t realize that tears had pooled in your eyes and were now streaming down your face. 

“Sweetheart,” Satoru said, in a voice entirely unfamiliar to you. Everything about the man in front of you now was unfamiliar to you, actually. “We were never official. So, I don’t understand –” You slapped him across his face, as hard as you could. Before you knew it, you were punching his chest while you crumbled into sobs, not even speaking a real language besides wails and cries. Surprisingly, he let you hurt him. 

Eventually, though, you stopped. You were utterly deflated. You felt like a fool. But you had to know, right? That it was going to end this way. Suddenly, your mind flashed back to the innocent days of being a fan and seeing headlines in gossip magazines – and the occasional think piece – about all the notches on Satoru’s belt. 

“You’re right,” you said, flashing him the same tight smile he’d given you earlier. You closed your eyes, purposefully missing his reaction. No matter what he had done, you still didn’t want to see him hurt – or worse, not hurt at all.  “We were never official. So let’s end whatever this is.” You took a deep breath, and once you felt steady in your stance, you opened your eyes. 

Again, that indecipherable expression. 

But, when he spoke, you quickly realized what it might signify.

“Alright. If that’s what you want. I’ll see you at the wedding, then,” he said. 

It signified this: he didn’t care. At all. This meant nothing to him, compared to what it meant to you.

Your heart crumbled as much as you had earlier.

All along, he didn’t care…

“Goodbye, Satoru. I’ll see you around. Let me know what you want for your wedding present.” You wouldn’t be a crazy person any longer. You pulled your sunglasses and mask out of your bag, and walked out of Satoru’s room. And, effectively, Satoru’s life.

In the cab ride home, you had one thought and one thought only: I wish we’d never met. What a grand, impossible wish. Almost as impossible as having had this relationship with your celebrity crush, you reminded yourself. This was fated to never be. You should start to accept it, and focus on your career. 

Afterall, you thought, strengthening your resolve. What better way to show Satoru that you didn’t care – than to flourish without him in your life. Suddenly, you remembered your original dream. Stage lights and sold out shows. Not a silver-haired blue-eyed cocky motherfucker who knew just how your body ticked. 

You wish you’d never met him, but it was better that you had. Because now you could show him – no, scratch that – show the world just how committed to your dreams you were. Just as Satoru had said oh-so-long-ago, you were the future . Satoru was old news. 

Just like he’d said, huh. 

You’d be a shining star, one that blinds everyone with your brilliance. 

For your sake, you had to be. 

i hope you enjoyed! this is also on ao3. and i have a hella long author's note on there. lol. header is from kukkoro knight (manga). xoxo penelope

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 3

Chapter Three: Light Carries On Endlessly Even After Death

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Singing, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 9.7k

A/N: This chapter is inspired by a mix of quotes and songs! Super unrelated, but it occurred to me, if I was in TLOU universe, I would not survive. I need my antidepressants and immediately would call it quits LMAO. (I know dark humor sorry :,) If you want to see my thought process (idk if you want to) I’ll put it at the end notes! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and notes! I genuinely appreciate it and it means alot to me &lt;3

Song: Make You Feel My Love by Adele

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD — 2023

TEN MILES WEST OF BOSTON – DUSK

You trek your way into the forest, you hear your footsteps squishing through the mud and dirt, and the pounding of your breath. The sun is beginning to set, dusk then brings you moonlight, a time to reflect on the day that has past and look forward to the day that will be refreshed by the glow of the sun. It is the time when the birds sing farewell till the stars call them to sleep under the wings. Each color intensifies in beautiful solemnity, uniting in the darkness. 

No one spoke for the entirety of the hike, the silence carries your melancholy, yet it is a permanent friend of your subconsciousness. The deafness is only broken by ragged breaths and the beating of human hearts. Joel comes to a stop, his back facing you and Ellie as he speaks, “We’ll camp here for the night. I’ll take watch.”

You look to Ellie who merely shrugs, the two of you say nothing and begin to set up camp on the forest floor. You hear the rushing water of a river nearby and realize where you’ve ended up. Placing your backpack on the floor, you raise your arms and stretch to the sky, undoing the painful knots in your back and neck. You let out a sigh of relief and prepare for the inevitable. Joel calls out your name and you turn to face him, ready to take on the brunt of his pain and rage.

His eyebrows lower slightly, and the tone of his voice goes down a pitch, “You and I need to talk.” You take an uneasy breath and nod in agreement despite the sweat coating both palms. He takes a step closer to you and asks, “Did you know?” he raises his voice a little, “Did you know about Tess?” You look down in shame and whisper, “Yes.”

It takes everything he has to keep his control, jaw clenched and narrowed eyes, “Why?” he says. A question so simple, a three-letter word holding so much weight, and so much anger towards you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You swallow and avoid responding, choosing silence over an argument. He scoffs and shakes his head, and you cross your arms across your chest. The more he fumed, the smaller you made herself.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, and only look up to see his broad shoulders and back facing you, he mumbles with a quiet rage, “I’m gonna go check the area and make sure it’s safe and that there aren’t any infected nearby.”

“This ain’ gonna work if you keep hidin’ secrets from me Hummin’ bird.” He turns and walks away, disappearing into the woods. “Well, that was dramatic.” You turn to find Ellie sitting comfortably, back resting against the pine tree in a crisscross position, you open your mouth to ask if she was okay but decided against it. Instead, you nod, “Yeah. I’m, um, sorry about that.” Ellie only shrugs, “He must’ve loved her or something.” Your gaze softens as you whisper into the cool navy twilight, “Or something.”

YOUR ORIGINAL OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE — JANUARY 2023, NOON

WASHINGTON STATE UNIVERSITY, FUNDAMENTAL QUANTUM PHYSICS LAB

The sleeves of your white lab coat itch your arms as you focused on typing up your report. The clacking sound of your keyboard could be heard from around the lab as you typed. You were invited to assist in a study focusing on quantum mechanics and theory. The lab wasn’t as busy today, most of them had decided to join the conference that was being held at Harvard, busy networking and connecting with possible investors or fellow researchers.

It was only you and Adam that was left in the lab, his excuse was he would rather put acid in his eyes than shake hands and give fake niceties. He’s nearby testing his new hypothesis, and decides to make conversation with you, “If we manage to prove this, then it is possible, somewhere in the many worlds, a pandemic happened earlier in a different universe.” You roll your eyes in amusement, “Yeah, I guess so.” You’re in thought for a moment before asking, “Do you think humanity won? Like, they overcame it?” He hums, “Maybe. Or maybe they lost.” You snort and throw a careless joke, “Everyone would blame our shitty government and us, the scientists. How ignorant must you be for it to happen twice?” 

“Well, all disaster movies start with a scientist being ignored.” He says matter-of-factly, and you give no response,  and you continue typing up your report. Silently hoping that if it were true, that humanity would still have hope, small but just enough to let the shine through, and believe that they haven’t lost yet. You look at the time and log out of your work computer, packing up your things, and asking Adam if he would like to join you for lunch he politely declines, so you bid him farewell as you head out the doors to step on the grey pavement of the campus and make your way to a nearby restaurant. It’s a beautiful day, you think to yourself, clear blue skies and a cool breeze that caresses your skin. You take notice of the blue butterfly fluttering its wings and flying right past you, you smile as it leaves an afterimage of change.

TLOU WORLD — 2023

TEN MILES WEST OF BOSTON — CIVIL TWILIGHT DAWN

You wake up with a deep inhale, your eyes struggle to open, and try to understand where you were. Tired from the dream, well, a memory that replayed like a cassette tape on a player that pressed rewind. You blink a couple of times before rubbing your eyes awake and retrace your steps in your mind as you recall what happened last night, only to remember giving Ellie your jacket and waiting up for Joel to come back from scouting the area for any signs of danger.

You sit up a little straighter and crack the aching parts of your neck, you look next to yourself and see Ellie lightly snoring up against a tree, still asleep. You look at the familiar jacket draped over your body that had kept you warm during the cold night. Joel must’ve placed it on top of you when he found you barely awake and functioning.

You can’t help but smile and feel your heart flutter at the thought of him taking care of you. You feel the muscles of your cheeks tighten as you try to hide away your smile and hoist yourself up quietly, not wanting to disturb Ellie’s slumber. Letting Joel’s jacket drape off of your shoulders, you use your hands to hold the collar, creating a cape that drapes behind you. 

You head towards the sound of the stream, it burbles as it travels along its bed, bubbling over rocks and branches. It was a delicate duck-egg blue, like the delicate sweep of a painter's brush. It snuck and snuck its way past all impediments, even the river's stones. Twigs spun across its murmuring surface, small messengers from the mountain trees that had brought them there. The creek rushed across the riverbed's pebbles. It sounded like a starling flock's airy, silky spin.

In the background, the mountains stood silently, a sullen presence of sky-punching glory. Snow brooches adorned their lofty peaks, which were encircled in angel-white wreaths. A weeping torrent cascaded down the granite wall. It appeared to be a silk-blue slide pouring down the mountain. It looked to be bound in silver as it carried its burden of ice crystals. It emitted a distant thrumming sound, similar to the constant rumble of a drum roll. It glowed brightly as it fed the riverbed, the forest's lifeblood. It was a breathtaking sight.

Your gaze turns to fine Joel’s figure kneeling, hunched over, and quietly picking stones from the river’s edge. You watch from a distance as he silently stacks a pile of stones to create a cairn, a memorial for Tess. You make sure your footsteps can be heard as you approach him, but he gave no acknowledgment as you decide to sit atop a large rock. It takes a while before he looks at you, and finds you staring right through him with sorrowful eyes. 

You let out a huff of air before speaking in a neutral tone, “I don’t mean to keep secrets from you. If I had come here a day before the pandemic, a day before your birthday, I would have done everything to make sure this never happened.” You paused for a moment then continued, “You asked me why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell you because I thought I could do it on my own. I’ve been doing this for my whole life, keeping the peace and fixing things by myself, and I got it right every time. And the one time I get it wrong it cost someone’s life.” 

You feel your voice quiver as you spoke, eyes darting to look past him, afraid of the rage and grief he feels, “Someone you loved is gone. I’m sorry, Joel. But God, I know that will never be enough and no amount of apologies will bring her back. I had a chance and I fucked up. If I could… If I could press rewind and trade her life for mine I would if that would make it any better for you.”

“No.” Joel states and your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and slowly bring your eyes to look at him, “No?” And he shakes his head and picks up another rock as he says, “I accept your apology, but stop doin’ that.” You tilt your head quizzically, “Don’t do what?” He gruffly replies, “Minimize your life as if it doesn’t matter. As if it ain’t just as important.” She felt her breathing pause and peered intently at him before trying to argue, “But–” He shuts her down before she could go on, “Stop it, as you said, no amount of apologizin’ is gonna bring her back. She’s gone. I made a promise to her that I’m plannin’ on keepin’, you gonna help me or not?”

That throws you off balance, you expected him to lash out, maybe throwing a rock or two at you, not this. Slowly you nod, “Yes. Yes, I will.” Joel looks and searches for any form of malice or lies and finds none. He simply stretches his arm to you, the rock he previously took from the river’s edge, and holds it out to you like an olive branch. You slide off the rock you were sitting on and take the rock from his hand, crouching down and quietly placing it on top of the cairn. 

You stare at the pile of rocks for a moment, quiet in thought, but then Joel says your name in a whisper that wouldn’t even fog the glass, you raise your eyes to look at him as he asks, “Was she, in your world, did she, um, already um…” And you already know what he’s wondering before he tries and say the words, so you save him the trouble of continuing, giving him a nod you reply solemnly, “Yes.”

“And when we get to Bill and Frank’s? What do you know about that?” He says, and you blink back your tears, flashbacks of that episode occur in your mind, remembering their love for each other and what would happen once we got there. You apologetically smile at him, “Out of respect for the both of them. It’s best to find out when you get there.”

His eyebrows arch inwards in concern, “Are they okay?” And you hesitate, thinking how to appropriately word this without lying, but then you remember, “Yes, they’re content.”

Joel’s eyes look back down at the cairn the decides to get up. You see him hold out his hand for you, and you take it to hoist yourself up. “Let’s go back and see if Ellie’s awake.” He states, then let’s go of your hand, making his way back to the kid. You stand there for a second, glancing at the pile of stones that represent her legacy, then back at Joel, you decide to walk forward toward your future beginning to unfold.

TEN MILES WEST OF BOSTON — DAY

The sound of birds chirping can be heard as you walk behind Joel, finding Ellie awake with her sitting upright with her knees pulled to her chest and your jacket still being used as a makeshift blanket. Joel goes through his pack to get a bark of food and Ellie breaks the silence to question you, “You want your jacket back?”

You nod and grab it from her as she holds it out to you, putting it on, you remove Joel’s brown jacket to place it on top of Ellie. Her face drops, “Seriously?” And you shrug to whisper, “You guys need to talk too.” You begin to pack up and wear your backpack.

Joel takes a bite from his food only to crumple the wrapper to throw it at Ellie as if she was some dog. You look at him in slight annoyance as Ellie rolls her eyes and takes picks it up from the ground to also take a bite of food. He makes himself busy as he adjusts the strap of his worn-out backpack, trying to ignore the kid, but Ellie is persistent, “I’ve never been in the woods.” She chews before continuing, “More bugs than I thought.” Joel doesn’t respond, disregarding her statement, and fidgets with the buckles and straps. Ellie huffs, her shoulders tense and her voice louder as says, “Look, I’ve been thinking about…”

Joel shoots straight up to swing his backpack over his shoulder, “I don’t want your sorries.” Your eyes swing over to Ellie as she retorts, “I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry. I was gonna say I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan.” Joel stands there as he listens to her go on, “You needed a truck battery or whatever and you made a choice.” Then her voice lowers an octave and slightly quivers, “So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”

Joel has his jaw clenched and you could see the vein in his neck preparing to burst, but all he does is give a silent nod at Ellie, then she looks away. Joel picks up his rifle and Ellie stands up to walk to him, backpack, and food, in one hand and Joel’s jacket in the other. She stretches out her arm for Joel to take it from her, a truce, as he gently grabs it and folds it. A small smile stretches across your face and you relax.

“How much longer?” Ellie asks him, and he responds calmly, “Five-hour hike.” The kid nods and states, “We can manage that.” 

You take note of the trees arching and twisting from above you, the leaves creating patterns with their shadows, and not a single blade of grass out of place. It’s surprisingly quiet and almost peaceful as you follow Joel and Ellie across the wooden bridge, letting your mind wander, and quietly hum tunes that remind you of home. And when you no longer wanted to hum, you reflected on what happened on September 26, 2003. When it all fell apart on Joel’s birthday. The day seemed so normal, with clear blue skies and a celebration of life between a father and a daughter. You should have known, but now you learn, blue skies were a sight you never trusted again. 

“You’ve gone this way a lot? No infected?” Ellie asks, seemingly exhausted from not talking for so long. “Not often, no,” Joel replies, steadily looking for any form of danger, “What are you looking for?” And you respond for him, “People.” Ellie hums in acknowledgment, “Are Bill and Frank nice?” Joel replies lightly, “Frank is.” Glad you’re behind the two, and maybe it’s the past that’s talking, but flashes of their love come back to you in a blur. 

Ellie continues asking Joel the question, “Where’d you get that scar on your head?” You frown at that and remember exactly how he got it, he sighs at her. “What? Is it something lame? Like you fell down the stairs or something?” Ellie teasingly said, and his whiskey-deep voice gravelly replied, “I didn’t fall down any stairs.” 

“I fell down the stairs a lot in high school. Every year for four years.” You mumble your input without any thought and Ellie looks over at you with concern, “How the fuck are you still alive.” And you frown slightly, “To be honest, I have no fucking clue either.” The kid turns back to Joel, “Okay, so what then?” Ellie asks and Joel vaguely replies, “Someone shot at me and missed.”

“See, that’s cool. Did you shoot back?” The young girl states and looks at Joel with so much wonder and amazement, Joel glances at her and then responds, “Yeah.” Ellie continues, “You get him?” He’s practically done with her asking so many questions but replies anyway, “No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.” 

“Because you suck at shooting or, like, in general?” You then bite back a laugh at Ellie’s comment, however, your eyes crinkle as you do. Vexed, Joel turns to look at Ellie, then away from her, “In general.” You snort at his response and this time he looks over his shoulder to look at you and you stare right back at him. 

Ellie glances at Joel’s revolver gun in its holder and looks back up at Joel, “You know, seeing as it’s just the three of us, and she has a gun already, I was thinking I should pro–” Joel doesn’t hesitate with his response, “No.” Ellie only rolls her eyes at his response and keeps quiet for a bit.

The three of you step over a fallen electric pole and turn a corner, “Cumberland Farms.” Ellie reads out the sign as you pass by it, Joel hurries his pace a bit before saying to you both, “Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.” 

“Stashed? Why do you have stuff stashed here?” Ellie asks still following Joel, irritated he says, “You ask a lot of goddamn questions.” She smirks, “Yes, I do.” Joel opens the door to the store, the sound of metal scraping against the floor as he does. “So, you gonna answer me or what?” Joel sighs and gives in, “We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear which I currently am because…”

“No way!” Ellie exclaims happily, and hurriedly makes her way to a Mortal Kombat machine, “You ever play this one?” You watch her mash buttons and mess with the joystick, while Joel lingers around, “I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There’s this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones.” She sighs, “Oh man.” You look to Joel, entertained by him looking through a bunch of junk, Ellie turns to notice what you're looking at, “You forgot where you put your stuff.”

Joel shakes his head and denies, “No. I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.” You lightly laugh, your shoulders slightly bouncing up and down as you do, “So, what? You’re using echolocation to look for it?” Joel only glances at you and sighs. Ellie smiles and says, “Okay, well, I’m gonna take a look around. See if there’s anything good.” Joel kicks something and replies, “Trust me, it’s all been picked over already.” Ellie hums thoughtfully, “Maybe, maybe not.” She makes her way to an open door and asks, “Is there anything bad in here?”

“Just you.” He retorts, and Ellie sighs, “Ah, getting funnier.” 

Joel shoves something and it doesn’t budge, “Fuck.” You laugh again at his struggle, and he looks at you unimpressed, “Do you, by any chance know where it is?” You smirk, “Yep.” He raises his eyebrows at you, “Do you wanna, maybe, I dunno, help me?” You twist your mouth to the side, cross your arms across your chest, and look up, mockingly thinking, “Eventually.”

Joel sighs at you, one hand on his hip as he does, then he says your name in a low-pitched voice, and you smile innocently at him from across the store. “And why won’t you tell me where it is?” You shrug and playfully say, “I like seeing you struggle.”

Electricity fills the air and you feel the warmth on your face, his brown eyes have now turned a shade darker than usual, and you watch him breathe a little deeper. Your tongue darts out a little bit to wet your lower lip and feel your heart race wildly. He stands there confidently, you notice his salt and pepper hair, his beautiful tan skin, and how the lines under his eyes and forehead remind you of maps you wish to trace your fingers on as they stretch, and there are too many miles to count. 

Wide-eyed in realization, you open your mouth, finding words to explain or excuse yourself but found none. Closing your gaping mouth, you quickly turn around to walk out of the store. Joel says your name, low and thick, you can feel the vibrations through your bones, it stops you in your tracks with your back facing him, “Where do you think your goin’? Turn around.”

You close your eyes for a second and try to quiet your beating heart, you follow his command, like a puppet on a string. “Where is it?” He asks as you feel his stare roam all over your body even from the large gap between you two, and you blink owlishly at him and out of breath, “Um, it’s at, um…” You clear your throat and try again, “It’s at the end of the aisle, underneath the newspapers.” 

“Come over here and help me lift this shit.” And your feet move forward to the man who is now crouched down and waiting for you. You kneel next to him, and as you tilt your head to look at him, you are now inches apart and unknowingly even closer at heart. You shyly look down on the piece of wood hiding his stash, “You should um, probably open it.”

He says nothing in response and you watch as he pulls his knife out and slices through the wood to create a small gap to lift it off the ground. You help him move it to the side, fingertips brushing against each other, feather-light touches that ignite a fire within you. In the corner of your eye, you see him begin to dig through the supplies he had left behind. It then occurs to you that you haven’t heard from Ellie in a while, you look to Joel with a concerned look, “We haven’t heard Ellie in a while,” you whisper.

He nods and proceeds to call for her, “Ellie?” He receives no response and the worry expands in your belly. Joel gets up and so do you, this time you try to call for her, “Ellie.” Getting nothing as well. Joel pulls out his revolver and turns to you, “Wait here.” You nod and follow his request, he approaches the door, “Ellie?” and she walks out fine and unscathed, “Picked over, my ass.” She says holding up a box of tampons. 

You let out a sigh of relief, even though you knew she would be fine, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you that things could change for the better or worse in any situation. Your being in this universe has an effect now, especially the fact you’re running around with the two main characters of this story. Whatever you say or choose not to say will have repercussions if you’re not careful. That’s something you learned the hard way.

Joel puts his gun away as Ellie shoves her find into her pack. He kneels down to put away the green toolbox and rifle under his stash, Ellie watches and asks, “What are you doing?” He responds, “There’s not much ammo out there for this thing. Makes it mostly useless.” You help him put the board back on and to no one’s surprise she tries to take advantage of the opportunity, “Well, if you’re just gonna leave it there…” Joel stands and you follow suit, he looks at Ellie sternly, “No.”

He turns to walk out of the store and Ellie follows after him, defeated. You watch the two go-ahead before glancing at the open door, knowing exactly what Ellie had found down there. Swallowing down your fear, you force yourself to keep going.

You continue to walk along the road, the clouds march on and the trees bow down to give their leaves, to offer you some shade along your journey. Walking by you see the wreckage of an airplane atop a hill, broken parts, and pieces scattered along the field. Ellie breathes out, “Holy shit.” The three of you stop walking to gaze at it fondly, “You fly in one of those?” The kid asks you and Joel, and he replies, “Few times, sure.”

Ellie is looking up at you, searching for your answer, and you give her a nod, “Yeah, a couple of times.” She brings her focus back to the wreckage and sighs, “So lucky.” Joel disagrees, “Didn’t feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich.”

“Dude, you got to go up in the sky,” Ellie says, and you frown, simple things that got taken for granted, you knew all too well. “Yeah, well, so did they,” Joel says with dejection in his voice, then decides to keep moving. Something all he’s ever known. Ellie mutters, “Grim.”

“So everything came crashing down in one day?” Ellie questions and Joel nods, “Pretty much.” Ellie doesn’t settle for that and chooses to follow up with a, “How? I mean, no one was infected with cordyceps. Everybody’s fine eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then, all at once? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to get infected, then who bit the first person?” She pauses, “Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

You huff in amusement, “If it were a monkey, this wouldn’t have happened.” Joel looks at you then turns back to Ellie and replies, “It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school?” Ellie frowns, “FEDRA school. They don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”

You flinch at her statement and think for a nanosecond, fuck. You hear your memories echo back to you. You snort and throw a careless joke, “Everyone would blame our shitty government and all the scientists. How ignorant must you be for it to happen twice?” Adam replies, “Well, all disaster movies start with a scientist being ignored.”

You painfully exhale and look to Ellie, parroting back the words you heard not long ago, “All disasters start with a scientist being ignored.” Joel and Ellie listen to you intently as you remember what had happened, and you continue on, “A scientist named Dr. Neuman sometime in the 1960s had feared this would happen. People laughed and brushed it off.” 

You close your eyes and try and untangle the strings of memories and information about their world, “Your outbreak started in Jakarta, Indonesia on September 24, 2003. A flour and grain factory,  on the west side of the city. The perfect substrate. A normal woman suddenly turned violent, attacked four of her coworkers, and bit three of them. They locked her in the bathroom and when the police arrived, she tried to attack them, and they shot her. The people she bit were taken for observation. You could imagine what happened a few hours later.”

You open your eyes to realize you had stopped walking and see Joel and Ellie analyzing the new information, you press on, “No one knows who bit her first, but there were fourteen coworkers missing. Possibly already spreading the virus. The cordyceps mutated because the world got warmer, and some of it go into the food supply. Flour was the case, and there were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere all across the country, and across the world. Bread, cereal… pancake mix.” You paused, unable to go on, so Joel picked it up from there and continued walking as he spoke, “If you eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time Thursday. People bought it ate some Thursday night or Friday morning. Day goes on, they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening… they got worse. Then they started biting. Friday night, September 26, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.”

Ellie is quiet for a bit then nods, “It makes more sense than monkeys. Thanks.” Joel lifts a shoulder, “Sure,” while you only nod with the silence that you continue to carry. Joel raises his arm to stop you and Ellie, “What?” She asks him. He exhales, “We’ll cut across the woods here.” Ellie looks at him skeptically, “Isn’t the road easier?”

“Yeah, it’s just… There’s some stuff up there you shouldn’t see.” Joel says, the tone in his voice very fatherly. You look to Ellie expectantly, as she cheekily smiles at him and walks ahead, “Well, now I have to see.”

“I don’t want you to.” Joel comments disapprovingly, but Ellie marches on, and he grunts, “Serious. Ellie.” You follow after the two, and the young girl asks, “Can it hurt me?” Joel replies straightforwardly, “No.” She turns and walks backward as she talks to him, “You’re too honest man. Should’ve said ax murderer.” Ellie carries on walking normally, while you and Joel look at each other consciously, with full awareness. 

You decide to take a risky leap, gently take his hand, and squeeze it reassuringly. His weary eyes are drawn to your linked hands, fingers interlaced like a beautiful zipper of prayer. Hands are the maps and compasses we use to navigate our lives. Some people read palms to predict the future but you read hands to predict the past. Every scar has a tale worth sharing. Each calloused palm and fractured knuckle represents a missed punch or years spent in a factory. Your eyes tell him, ‘It’s okay, let her know.’ And he seems to understand, giving you a short nod. Because, what is a girl if not a buzzing creature discovering what the world will take from her?

“Whatever it is, I think it’s gone,” Ellie yells out to you both, only to stop short moments after to look at the ditch below. Skeletons were jumbled together and littered the dirt. You and Joel reach Ellie, with hands still intertwined, she’s looking up at you both for an explanation. Joel emits a long, deep, audible breath expressing his sadness, “About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers… went through the countryside and evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were… if there was room.” He hesitates, “If there wasn’t…” 

These people were wiped clean away, leaving only a wristwatch or a blanket. The only proof that they ever existed. Ellie feels out of sorts as she mutters, “These people weren’t sick?” Joel replies fixed and controlled, “No, probably not.” The girl nods while blinking away her melancholy and frustration she asks quietly, “Why kill them? Why not just leave them be?” You take a shaky inhale before responding, “Because dead people can’t get infected.” 

Joel squeezes your hand in reassurance, and it grounds you from remembering what had happened that sunny day. How easy it was for the government and military to manipulate everyone into believing everything was under control. People that you trusted and elected for a hopeful cause only for them to betray you in the end. You tip your head up to Joel and he looks at your sparkling eyes, looking up at him searching for some kind of answer. But he gazes at you, with no answers, instead, is filled with promises. Because what is an adult if not a terrified being desperate to protect something you can't save?

AMHERST COUNTY, MASSACHUSETTS, LINCOLN, – NOON

You, Joel, and Ellie approach the electric fence gate surrounding the small town of Lincoln. The site is hauntingly beautiful, a white large house can be seen from a distance, while trees dance in the wind, you can picture this neighborhood having plenty of kids playing out on the street without a care in the world. As you approach the gate, there’s a number keypad attached to the side, he glances at you and Ellie, “Stay there.” He punches in the four-digit code and there is a high pitch ring, indicating that the passcode was correct, and the metal gate unlocks.

Joel opens the gate for Ellie to walk through first, and then you. He closes the gate behind him as he follows you both inside. The environment is suspenseful and suspiciously quiet, Joel places his hand on his revolver while noticing the wilting yellow flowers outside the house. He pushes down on the door handle, surprised that it was left unlocked, he removes his revolver from the holster and cautiously walks inside. Ellie mumbles, “What the fuck?” while Joel yells out, “Bill? Frank?” Your palms begin to sweat and you discreetly wipe them down on your pants, Joel turns to look at you and Ellie, “You stay there. You hear anything… you see anything yell.” 

“What if they’re gone?” Ellie asks and Joel doesn’t respond, only looking at her before turning and opening the door to the kitchen. She sighs and proceeds to look around the house. A grand piano sits in the living room, and Ellie curiously presses on a bunch of keys to listen to the notes play. And then you spot it, head tilting, you carefully take the envelope and key that sat on top of the wooden table, and feel the sense of sorrow you knew followed you around like a shadow. 

You look to Ellie who was staring at you expectantly and then hand her the letter. You didn’t need to read what you already knew. Your footsteps are heavy as you pull out a seat from the dining room table, and fold your arms atop the desk before bending your head down. Your muscles were aching and exhausted, while the pounding in your head decided to return for another round. Ellie pulls out the chair next to you and opens the letter, quietly reading it.

You hear Joel from down the hall, trying to knock and unlock the door of Bill and Frank’s room, but hear the front door shut from the wind. This causes him to jump and call out for you and Ellie. None of you decide to reply. He stalks down the hall and turns right to the dining room, to find you quiet and resting your head against the dining table with Ellie reading the letter.

“It’s from Bill.” The girl says, and Joel decides to holster his revolver again. She reads aloud,  “‘To whomever, but probably Joel’. I figured I fell into ‘whomever.’” And then shrugs, “It came with this,” she pushes a key across the dusty table adjacent to her and he removes his backpack before tossing it to the floor. He grabs the key to inspect it and then states, “So they’re dead?” Ellie nods, “Mhm. You wanna…” Joel shakes his head no, “Go ahead. You do it.” 

Ellie clears her throat before reading out loud the words you cried over for a good week, “August 29, 2023. If you find this, please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell but it will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehehehe.” She pauses in confusion but goes on, “Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway, I never liked you but still, it’s like we’re friends, almost. And I respect you.”

You can already feel the flip in your stomach before you’ve even heard the part that would hit him the most, “So I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving.” 

And it all comes rushing back to you, the love story of Bill and Frank, a chance meeting that would have only happened during the end of the times. You quietly tried your best to sit up straight, but your posture is still drooping and sagging. Placing your elbows on the table, and folding your hands, interlocking your fingers, you closed your eyes and let your head rest against your hands. And when your eyes closed, your guards came down, tears freely flowed down your cheeks, mentally deadened, tired, and nauseous as you listened, “That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…” Ellie stops abruptly, not wanting to continue. 

Ellie purses her lips together in a line while Joel snatches the letter to read what she could not. To keep Tess safe. He swallows down his guilt and anger, “Stay here.” You open your puffy, bloodshot eyes as you hear him storm out of the house leaving the door open behind him. Feeling out of focus and indisposed, like a single loose thread that comes all undone. You curl one leg up to your chest and let your chin rest on top of it, and you can feel the snot dripping down your nose as you do. Bring the sleeve of your jacket, to wipe it off from your face, then use the palms of your hands to wipe the tears away. 

But it proves useless as the tears continue to flow, Ellie silently moves to stand next to you and then gives an unexpected, but not unwelcomed, hug. You continue to cry harder, choking on every breath you take as you do, as you wrap your arms around Ellie’s waist and silently stroke your hair. Joel comes back to the house finding the sight of you broken and sobbing uncontrollably. Ellie only looks at him with saddened eyes, and a silent plea to help you.

You’re uncomfortably shattering into pieces,  stitch by stitch it tears you apart, and a stained-glass variation of the truth leaves your brokenness on display. Joel walks behind you, unsure what to do or say, but he can feel the magnetic pull of wanting and needing to help you, quietly he asks you, “What do you need?”

He wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t incredibly silent if your voice hadn’t echoed off the walls, your voice hiccuping, so small and soft as you admit, “I don’t know…” But Joel does. Without question, Ellie gently lets go of you, to be replaced by Joel’s large arms wrapped around your shaking frame.

The seasons will eventually change, and you may choose to go into them shattered and busted, with stiff souls, wounded hearts, and raggedy spirits. But the tiny part of you will continue on because hope endures the agony of sadness; it does not require your protection or defense. For now, you will allow yourself to cry, sigh, and wish for things to be different in the comfort of the two people you’ve grown close with. Later, you will discover raw, wrung-out calm when you allow yourself to be human.

After a reprieve, you willed yourself to stop crying. You take a shaky inhale and be the first one to pull away from Joel. Sweaty, puffy, and slightly dehydrated, from the amount of crying you’ve managed to do in a small amount of time. You feel drowsy, exhausted, overwhelmed, and embarrassed. Rubbing your face with both hands, you heavily exhale and try to regroup yourself as you do.

Joel gently holds your wrist to reveal your face, he’s kneeling down in front of you, “You good?” Your eyes shift uncontrollably across his face, not able to focus on him properly but you nod anyway, you have to keep going, “Mhm, yes. I’m good now,” you said. He gives you a short nod and slowly pushes himself up to face Ellie who was quietly sitting down again, “Show me your arm.”

Ellie stands up and lifts her sleeve to reveal the bite on her arm already healing. Joel nods and says, “I just finished making a truck battery. It’s charging right now.” Ellie nods back, “Okay.” He continues on, “I have a brother out in Wyoming. He’s in some kind of trouble and I’m headin’ out there to find ‘em. He used to be a Firefly.” Ellie continues to silently nod, indicating that she was listening to him as he spoke, “And my guess is he knows where some of them are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is.” 

Ellie blinks, “All right. Listen about Tess…” But Joel shuts that down pretty quickly, he lifts his hand to stop her, “If I’m taking you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your… condition. They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three, you do what I say when I say it.” 

Joel looks at you pointedly, “Rule three applies to you too Hummin’ bird.” Your face scrunches up in annoyance and exclaim, “But I’m a grown adult!” Joel only lifts his eyebrows, “Do you know exactly what happens now from here on out? You ever lived in an apocalyptic world?” You move your eyes away from him and mumble defeatedly, “No, and just a few hunches and theories, I guess.” He harrumphs and looks at you and Ellie, “Are we clear?” He says. You both respond, “Yes.”Joel’s eyes narrow and says without smiling, “Repeat it.”

“What you say goes,” Ellie says and he looks to you for the same statement, “What you say goes, Cowboy.” He lets out a huff and shifts his weight to his other foot, “Okay,” he mumbles. The kid questions aloud, “So what now?” And Joel decides it’s time to start preparing, “We grab what we can.”

Loud footsteps are heard as the three of you descend the metal stairs, Joel flicks on a switch and the lights flicker open. The sound of the 80s playlist playing can be heard filling the room. Joel goes to pause it while Ellie takes a good walk around the bunker, and looks at the wall of guns, “Holy shit. This guy was a genius.” You laugh lightly at her comment, walk over to Joel’s side to look at the playlist and security cameras, saying “Well, under normal circumstances, this would be seen as paranoid.”

Ellie snorts in amusement and acknowledgment, she turns to Joel and asks, “Why was the music on?” Joel places his hands on the table and replies contemplatively, “If he doesn’t reset the countdown every few weeks, this playlist would run over the radio.” Ellie makes her way to the side of the monitor, she peeks at it and states, “‘80s.” He glances from behind him, not wanting to dwell on it any longer, and tells the kid, “Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.” She lingers a bit by the wall of guns on display and points at it saying, “Dude.” Only to be replied with Joel’s firm, “No.” Ellie exasperated, “There’s a wall of them.” He gives her one hard look and Ellie pinches her lips into a thin line, walking away to start grabbing the canned food.

Joel’s gaze turns to you, while you tilt your head to the side to look up at him, and you feel a question forming on the tip of your tongue, the way you hold your breath as you wonder if it’s even worth bringing up, you and him inches away from touching, lingering and wanting you to say something. Instead, you pull away from his malt-musing mountain gaze, away from the comfort of his warmth and inviting pull. Afraid of what this could mean, or the possibility you might wake up and find yourself alone again. To only find his ghost wandering in your kitchen, haunting you if this all turns out to be nothing.

“I’m gonna go, um, help Ellie.” You say pointing behind you with your thumb, and then stumble your way around the bunker to look for the young girl. He watches you leave his side, and if he could have one wish it would be to have more time. He’d like to stop the clock and make time stand still because this is just how he always wants to feel. To hear the way she stumbles when she answers, and just for a little bit, secretly, he forgets about his cynicism because he can't wait to see what happens next.

You three end up going through everything in Bill and Frank’s home. On the upper floor, you and Ellie look around the bedroom as Joel opens the door to a closet, pulls on the pull cord switch of the light, and grabs a box of women’s clothes in Ellie’s size and yours. You and her open the box and happily dig through the pile of clothes that had been left behind. Eventually, you settle on a basic white tee, a pair of cargo pants, new white socks, and a lovely maroon leather jacket.

All three of you decide to check on the battery, Joel turns the knob of the charger and grunts, “Needs another hour.” Ellie checks the faucet by the sink and turns it to the right and happy squeals, “They have hot water! I’m taking a shower.” She then looks to Joel who was busy sorting through the clutter, “And then you’re both showering. Because seriously…” And before walking away she makes a sound to signal you both that you reeked of sweat and more stench imaginable. She walks away to go back inside the house and leaves you both alone together. 

Not knowing what to do or say, you give yourself a hug, arms folding in front of your middle, eyes darting to everything but him. Joel watches the way you shift around the bunker. He does not know what you are thinking, how you prefer your tea, if you take sugar in your coffee, or whether you like walking in the rain. He takes notice of the way you keep going just like he does, when you laugh it sounds like a melody he’s all too familiar with but there’s a different hidden note between each breath you take. 

You are impossible. Impossible is admitting you came from a different universe, it’s also attempting to connect in this world, trying to hang on to others while everything around you is exploding. And yet you’re standing there in front of him, real and full of light. He does not want to believe it, he worries in his mind that he will destroy each and every part of you, engrossing darkness and bitterness he has accumulated for the past twenty years. Beginning on the day the world fell apart, when it took Sarah away from him. And the weight of the world was placed on his shoulders.

You begin to hum to yourself as you take a walk around the bunker and appreciate the lengths Bill went through to keep him and Frank safe. Joel finally gives in to the tug of war in his mind and asks, “What song were you hummin’ on the hike here, Birdie? I didn’t recognize the melody this time.” His question pulls your attention away from the wall of guns and you incline your head toward him, “Oh? Uh, just a song from my world, I guess…” He looks at you expectantly and you take it as a cue to continue, “It’s a song by Adele.” You said as you scrunched your nose a bit.  A look of puzzlement crossed his face, “Who’s Adele?” he says. You slowly blink at him, “Damn, your world ended too soon and robbed you of Adele.”

The conversation continues on, it goes from books to favorite drinks, and bit by bit you’re beginning to piece together the man in front of you. It astounds you, how he kept going even when the world took away the people he loved. And later you hear Ellie yelling from the house, telling you both she’s done, you look to Joel and he tells you to use the shower first. You smile at him and give him a small thanks as you head up the stairs. The small talk you both had left him floating and hates that his mind continues to think about worse-case scenarios and look for emergency exits just in case. But is it courage or faith that he shows up every day? And maybe one day he won’t be afraid.

After the nice steaming hot shower, and changing into your new-ish clothes, you yell Joel’s name to tell him it’s his turn. He proceeds to go into the bathroom and you go downstairs to see Ellie messing with the piano keys, you gently tap her shoulder and she looks up at you with adorable eyes full of wonder, “Scoot over.” The kid moves and you sit down on the piano bench next to her, you mumble, “I’m surprised it’s still tuned after all these years.” Ellie’s ears perk up, “You know how to play?” and you tilt your head to the left, “Just enough to impress friends now and then.” She smiles, “Can you show me? Please?”

Your mouth pinches in thought, wondering which song you could play, “Hrm, I guess I could. But you might not recognize this piece of music since it was never released here.” She nods excitedly, “It’s no big deal. I need to hear you sing since you keep humming all the time.” You roll your eyes at that, “Okay, okay.”

You ready yourself, comfortably slouched, and your head down. Your fingers glide over the keys and you begin to sway as you play the starting notes of Adele’s ‘Make You Feel My Love’. “When the rain is blowing in your face. And the whole world is on your case. I could offer you a warm embrace. To make you feel my love,” You sang softly as your fingers continued to dance over the ivory keys, your spirit became virtually an allure with each small sway of your head and body. Joel silently walks down the stairs, enchanted and allured by your melodious voice. He leans on the frame of the foyer, slicked back salt and pepper hair, and currently has the softest eyes for you.

“The storms are raging on the rollin' sea. And on the highway of regret. The winds of change are blowing wild and free… You ain't seen nothing like me yet.” You sang and the buildup as it developed into a slow roll that shattered into the souls of everyone who listened like a tremendous tsunami. Joel and Ellie were entranced by the enticing music emanating from your voice, resulting in a tranquil silence. The lyrics soared and swelled from the depths of your spirit as if everyone in that room could sense your hope and affection. Your love became their love, and the audience and singer became one.

“I could make you happy, make your dreams come true… Nothing that I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the earth for you, to make you feel my love. To make you feel my love.” You vocalized and slowly stopped playing on the ivory keys, letting out a sigh of relief you turn to Ellie who is in awe of your talent and skill. “Damn, I wish we could bring this with us.” She says and you throw your head back in laughter, your shoulder moving as you catch your breath, “Joel would break his back carrying this thing.” 

“You callin’ me old, sweetheart?” Joel says smugly, you and Ellie swiftly turn to look behind you, to find him relaxed, happy, and all cleaned up. You can feel your body begin to burn in embarrassment and attraction to the pet name he called you. Including the fact, he’s pulling off the wet look pretty damn fucking well. Ellie saves you from having to explain yourself and comments on his appearance, “Well, don’t you look pretty.” 

That brings him back to reality and begins to become grumpy old Joel once more, “Shut up.” He mutters and then tosses her a stick of deodorant which she catches. The kid looks at it and comments, “Nice,” then proceeds to get up from the bench with you following after the both of them.

You make your way to the blue Chevy S-10, Ellie goes to the front passenger seat but Joel clicks his tongue, “Go sit in the back, Ellie.” She groans and as she was about to walk to the back of the Chevy you shake your head, “It’s okay, you can take it for the meantime, I suspect you haven’t been in a car before.” And Ellie is practically vibrating with joy as she hops inside the car, Joel looks at you from the rearview mirror and you give a thumbs up while Ellie continues to explore parts of the car, “It’s like a spaceship,” she says and you hide a laugh while Joel mumbles, “It’s like a piece of shit Chevy S-10 but it’ll get us there.” And after a moment he adds, “I think.”

Joel begins to put on his seatbelt and he tells Ellie to do the same, but she only gives him a perplexed look, which he then shows her and she clicks it in place while smiling, “So cool.”

He turns the key and the engine rives to life, Ellie opens the glove compartment and finds a cassette tape, he glances at her, “Would you leave it?” Ellie gives him a cheeky grin to slide it into the radio. “Put it back. Ellie.” Joel states in a serious tone. Linda Ronstadt’s ‘Long Long Time’ begins to play, the first ever song you hummed a couple of days ago. You look out the window to the left, Joel and Ellie converse as you tune out the rest of the world, only listening to the music. You hear the buzzing of the gate open and Joel drives into the open road, and the lovely voice of Linda Ronstadt reminds you that love will transcend into every universe, and the thought of that lulls you to gently close your eyes and let yourself fall asleep.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

End Notes: (Idk do people read this? Btw this is lengthy since lol almost 10k words o-o)

Yes, Type 9 is The Runner-away-er of Conflict… hecking I had this whole argument planned out at first, all the yelling and fighting between the reader and Joel and nearly going through with that concept, but in the end decided against it. Because to me, it felt too soon. It wouldn’t progress the story forward, it would have just taken twenty steps back lmao. Joel is the type to keep going, to keep moving cuz he has to. So him reminiscing would be out of character and the reader getting mad and confronting him wOULD ALSO BE OUT OF CHARACTER LMAO

Anyways, as you read, I ended up giving them a moment to mourn and talk it out, because I felt like you needed to hear those words too. Do not throw away your life just to make someone happy. That’s destructive. 

I tried my best to write about grief this chapter, and had to rewatch Episode 3 to put myself through the torture again hooray! Towards the end, you can see my writing become somewhat poetic(?) but honest. I didn’t want to extremely exaggerate it but just enough to hopefully make u cry a bit. If you did cry pls tell me, it tells me that I wrote okay enough for you to cry)

But I also wanted it to give you some hope and to remind you that you are a light in many people's lives I promise.

Furthermore, I lowkey procrastinated on this chapter, I was hoping it would be out by Wednesday but the new Hogwarts Legacy game has me in a chokehold so I 1000% got distracted!

OFF TO EPISODE 4 I GOOOO I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING UR COMMENTS MWA ILY &lt;3

-Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @themysticmonstercturtles @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale  @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @romans-roys @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m

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[nocturn-warrior]

I ALL THE THINGS I'VE SHOULD DONE• 🔅

Alucard x reader

Summary: You are pregnant with your first born with Alucard and he has been overprotective over you, but during one night he a jerk tries to assault you. Alucard and your friends kick his ass.

Warnings: angst, SA mentions, abortion mentions, violence, jealousy at Greta, pregnancy, crying (but ends up with fluff), my bad grammar and text similar to a 12 years old's writting fanfic (english is not my first language) and bad dialogues.

Note: month of the three milks is may in medieval calendar, puiuţ is a nickname romanian parents call their babies and it means baby chicken. Most of the titles of my fics are based on Kate Bush's songs or song quotes. This one is taken from This Woman's Work

You were so excited taking care of Sypha and Trevor's baby. With his mother's big blue eyes and his father's jet hair, he was the cutest thing in the world. Everyday, your heart beated faster to the thought of having a child of your own with Adrian; a little baby to light up your lives and bring joy to that enormous castle again, but it took months for you to start trying for it. There are too many children around, the village orphans would be jealous if we had a baby. You would squash off the idea to yourself with a silly excuse. Actually, you feared having a child would have a reverse effect. Alucard was still mentally fragile and you rememberer his breakdown nights, where he wouldn't close his eyes to sleep until the sunrise. But one day it happened, and when it happened you and Adrian couldn't contain the happiness, though your hearts were still full of doubts.

Immediatly you started to work on your unborn's room, asking the villagers carpenters to reform Adrian's childhood bedroom and redo the furniture just like the way he remebered, since it all was destroyed during that last fight. All except that little wolf plushie which you storaged in the wardrobe. Alucard was surprised when you, after the nursery was finally finished and you both were decorating it with paintings and toys Adrian crafted himself, came in with the plushie and placed it over the little crib. He could feel a tear forming into his eye in that very moment.

"H-how did you..."

He stuttered, holding the toy almost as if he was checking out to see if it was the original one. You chuckled and said:

"I kinda stole from you so many days before Trevor had his hero moment. It was too cute to stay all dusty and forgotten in a wooden box. What is his name, by the way?"

Alucard sniffles the toy for a while, it smells like childhood. Like comfort. Smells like a time that will never come back, but he is happy it will belong to his child now. For that, new memories will be builden up. He finally answers, sitting on the small bed with you and caressing the toy's fluffy head.

"Lupi"

The dhampir smiled as his eyes wandered across the bedroom: it was exactly like he remembered. With his drawing skills, it was easy to picture everything in paper and intruct the carpenters.

After two long years, the village was finally built. Settled in the Belmont ground, it was full of small but cozy houses, a small fair, and a graveyard to honor their lost members. They were grateful for everything, and for that they decided to make a big celebration, in the day of their protector saint, Sara Kali, who is also the protector of pregnant women, for the exhiled and despaired ones as well.

You, Alucard and your friends were invited to such a beautiful moment, since you four had a big role in providing that people comfort and protection during and post the nightcreatures attacks.

It was 24 in The Month Of the Three Milks and you were 5 months pregnant. At first, Alucard was a little hesitant about attending at the festival; besides he cherishes the comunity so much, he feared you made too much effort or that all of these sounds, scents and feelings would be overwhelming to you. In his core, he wanted to go of course, but your safety was more important.

"Are you sure, my darling? You need to rest, you and the baby. Greta and the others will understand if you don't attend"

He tenderly argues, placing a hand on your waist as you look for a proper dress to use in the occasion in your big wooden wardrobe.

"Adrian,"

You drop the pieces of clothes to cup his cheeks, his amber droopy eyes looking towards yours as you explain. How could you take that pouty face of his seriously in that moment? You contain a chuckle.

"I am fine. My sickness doesn't affect me anymore, and some fresh night are will be good for me. You worry too much"

Adrian looks down presses his hand over your growing bump, trying to feel the child. He's been obsessed with it, constantly asking you if his puiuţ, as he constantly reffers to your baby is awaken and active.

"They are quiet this afternoon, my love."

You answer, placing your hand over his colder one. He says nothing, thinking about the festival and if taking you was a good idea until he breaks the silence:

"Let's find you a dress to wear, i will do your hair"

Your eyes light up, filling his heart with joy. Alucard adores to see you smile and beam with happiness, specially now that your mood changes so frequent. Any wrong word can cause an endless angst in this sensitive head of yours. He doesn't complain, though. After all you did for him in those dark gloomy nights, is not just his duty but also his wish to take care of you.

The two of you mess around your clothes, trying to find anything that feels comfortable enought for you to wear all night long. You try this, try that, but all of your formal gowns feel tighter and constraining around your stomach. Trying the last one with no success, you leave a deep sigh and plop yourself on the bed, laying with your limbs spread:

"Alright. Forget it. I accepted my fate: we are not going to the festival."

Though you had a silly smile in your face, Adrian could tell you were very upset with the fact no dress could fit you propperly now, and standing up in silence while looking at your hopeless expression, he takes a hard decision. Entering or seeing his parents' personal objects was a challenge he has been avoiding for two years. That's why most of them were gifted to the people from Danesti. They shouldn't be in there storaging must and moths. He gave it all, except some.

"Actually, i think there are still some dresses that belonged to my mother when she was pregnant. My father kept her belongings, and i couldn't get rid of them yet"

The joyful expression returns to your face as Alucard gives the problem a solving, you quickly sit up again and smile excitedly at him. For a while, you wonder why he kept exactly his mother's pregnancy dresses. Was it because he already planned everything? He could have given them to Sypha years ago. But you don't question it, you just nod and stand up, holding his hands.

"Thank you, Adrian. But you don't have to do it, if it's too hard to see her things again."

He gently shushes you, raising your hand and placing a wet kiss over it and ressuring he would be alright. Adrian tells you to stay in your bedroom while he looks into an old wooden chest, containing some of his parents' remaining belongings.

Minutes after, he cames in with a beautiful red dress, larger in the stomach and breasts part. It's oppulent silk bounces as he moves smoothly, placing it over the bed.

"Here. Try it on. I might do some adjusts on it's sleeves or cleavage if you want me to. We still have time"

He smiles at you, and standing up, you grab it to try on as he said. You inspect it's fabric, the dress has a slight musty scent due to all of these years it spent untouched, but it's alright. You quickly slip off your undergarments and put the dress on. Alucard expectates for the final result, arms crossed and eyes wandering across you changing body. It looks so beautiful, like a goddess of fertility.

"It feels tight in the arms"

You raise up your limbs, proving your point. The long sleeves restrict your movements. Lisa had a more slender figure, you guess, so it would really feel tighter in some of your body parts. Alucard approaches you, adjusting some pieces of the fabric and turning you around to check out the clothing

"I can cut them for you, my dear"

The solution comes without hesitation and you are surprised. He would modify his mother's relics just because of you. The hesitation came from your part

"Do you really mean that? Love, this belonged to your mother"

He playfully scoffs and lifts up the silky hem of the gown, helping you to take it off so he could make the necessary adjusts

"If there was something my mother was not attached to, was material wealth. Plus, it's for the wife of her son i am doing that. Don't you worry, it's just a dress"

Adrian removes the dress from you completly and with the lines and needles, he starts to work on the sleeves as you sit on the bed, waiting for it to be finished.

One hour and a half later, your dress is finally adjusted and fits perfectly. Now, you two should take a shower, get perfumed and elegant for the event so important to your friends of the village.

Adrian does your hair as promised: he braids it and finishes with a ribbon matching the color of your dress. He ties your shoes and you help him folding the hem of his trousers. Now passing through the giantic doors of the castle, you two head to where the festival would be settled.

Arms interlocked and faces enlighted by the rising full moon light, you catch a sight of Sypha and Trevor sitting on a wooden bench, their son Simon is running around with the other kids.

"He is already running. Years ago this boy was just a..."

Words fail with excitement, seeing your nephew toddling and interacting with other children. Alucard completes the phrase, placing a hand on your bump.

"A little bean. Just like our baby. Soon, he or she will be joining them. Ooh, it seems like he is sticking a frog into his mouth!"

As Alucard finishes, you can see from a afar, Sypha rushing to stop the toddler of eating a frog. You giggle, already imagining the adaptations in the castle you and Adrian shall do to prevent your own kid to hurt themselves.

Trevor see you two approaching and, taking a large sip of his ale, he places the cup aside, facing you two.

"Hey, i thought you two wouldn't even come. Y/N, you have to try this ale. This shit is a drop from heavens!"

By his tone, you could tell your friend was already drunk. Alucard intervines with a calm, yet slightly sarcastic tone, cracking his whip:

"You are not trying to make my pregnant wife drink alcohol, are you, Belmont?"

"I forgot this detail"

He snorts, shrugging and turning his attention back to his beloved ale. Since Simon was born, Trevor and Sypha had made a promise he would never drink again, but today is a special occasion so they gave it a break. Talking about Sypha, she returns to the place, holding the willful Simon on her hip and smiling as she spots you and Alucard.

"I can't keep an eye off from this boy, it's like he is the exact copy of his father. I can't keep an eye off of him as well. Trevor, you are already drunk?"

She places her free arm on her hip, facing the sitting man who denies it, with his clearly intoxicated tone.

"Gods, i don't know why but i still love you that it hurts!"

She chuckles, sitting by her husband's side and releasing Simon from her arms before she finally talks to Alucard and you.

"Your bump is already so big, my dear Y/N! Bigger than last week. Please, cherish this moment, becsuse after that you will deal with back pains and ankle soreness due to this little human growing in there"

Sypha looks tenderly at your belly jutting against the red silk of your dress, and then at her own son who rushes to "uncle Lulu", as he calls your husband.

"But it's all worthy."

You were so excited by seeing your friends that didn't even paid attention to the festival decoration. It was beautiful, full of colors and good scents comming from the food. The women wore their traditional clothes, children ran around the big fire settled in the middle. The tawny moon enlighted everything, making the scenary even more breathtaking. Alucard conduces you to sit over the bench and accomodates himself by your side as well.

"What do you think, love?"

He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek

"Beautiful. I love how their people, even after so many troubles and distress, found a way to put everything together"

The food scent was inviting, you spot a plump old lady holding a large plate of something you judged to be sarma, placing it over the large table along with other food. An increasing desire starts to take over you, and Alucard notices your fixated gaze. He chuckles, placing a hand on your belly before standing up.

"Are you two hungry? Stay here, i will get some food. Will you guys want something as well?"

He looks at Sypha who shakes her head, and at Trevor who says nothing but a grunt that Alucard reads as a no. You watch your dhampir walk graciously towards the table abundant with food, greeting the people as he approaches it. Resting your elbow on your knee and your chin on your palm, you don’t notice how head over heels you are until he comes back holding a bowl and speaking to you so sweetly:

“Here, my dear. It’s still warm”

Alucard sits by your side and you glance at the bowl full of sarma; a meal made of cabbages and stuffed with meat and rice, a typical dish of the people from Danesti. He grabs a forkful and takes it towards your mouth, waiting for your approval. You chew up the bite, the flavors exploding in your mouth. Alucard’s smile increases when you leave a satisfied groan and nod your head. He places the bowl on your lap, allowing you to occasionally feed him as you two chat with Sypha.

Some children from the village spot you sitting in there and rush towards the bench. As expected, they were quite excited about the baby on the way, always competing between them to touch your bump and feel their new “sibling”. After all those little ones passed through, you were happy to see them play around. You see in their faces, the future of that community like flowers blooming after a long winter.

“mother, mother!”

A little girl grabs the hem of your silky dress, trying to get you attention and climb up to your lap, followed by other three kids who fight for their places. Noticing the mess they could make, Alucard grabs the bowl you hold and tries to calm down the hectic little ones.

“Woah, woah, calm down, Delia, Elek. Let your mother breath.”

He adverts the two sassiest ones with his firm wet warm tone, gently pulling them away as they chitter.

“But father Alucard, I want to feel the baby!”

They argue and you can’t resist to their pouty faces, sensitized by your mood changes you intervene into Alucard’s rebuke, accepting their little excited hands to touch your bump. Your husband doesn’t protest back, he knows how stubborn you are and how these children love you, but as you allow Delia to climb up onto your lap, he can’t help but feel apprehensive the girl would make too much pressure over your belly. You can see the disappointed expression in her face as she roams her palm around your stomach but isn’t able to feel nothing.

“The baby is sleeping now.”

You whisper, tilting up her little chin and smiling pacifically. Alucard admires your ability to calm down these children, always so patient and warm. Delia seems to understand the situation and climbs down from your lap, turning to her little friends and communicating the state of your baby. Still, the kids wouldn’t give up and keep fighting for your attention. Alucard knows that gently pushing them away wouldn’t do much good and gives up, so he lets it be. Sypha, noticing your discomfort calls one the children’s name and says:

“why don’t you take little Simon to play around a little, Delia? Hey, but don’t allow him to eat any frog!”

She adverts as the little girl gives up on pesting you and quickly takes your nephew’s hand, guiding him off from Sypha’s lap.

“nor any cricket or moth!”

“Alright, aunt Sypha!”

The small group of children leaves the four adults alone, in a mass of giggling and screaming mess. You can breathe finally, laying your head over Alucard’s shoulder and watching them move away, secretly hoping your baby takes after you and your husband, and doesn’t come to be so hectic like their future peers. Chatting with your friends about your adventures and about parenthood, most of the conversations end up with mocking Trevor. You guys are really taking advantage of his intoxicated state to make fun of him. The weather is pleasant and the crackling fire sounds relax you.

You hate it, but a snort leaves your throat when one of the children approach again, rushing towards Alucard this time at least. The little boy has in his face the expression of the messenger of a king, and speaks while panting, leaving Alucard slightly worried. You fear something bad has happened, as well.

“father Alucard, Greta wants to talk to you.”

The request was not urgent or a life or death case, but the woman’s name has sent you some discomfort into your heart. It’s not like you hate Greta: she is not as close as Sypha is to you, but she is still a friend and you recognize the importance she has to the community, yet you can’t help but feel insecure whenever she is around. Even though it’s been two years since you and Adrian are together, even though you are pregnant with his child.

The blonde man places a quick kiss on your cheek, swearing he will come back as soon as possible and stands up, guided by the child towards the house Greta awaits for him. You observe him adjusting the collar of his shirt as he approaches, and you see Greta come out through the door. Even from meters afar, you notice and admit how gorgeous she looks in that traditional dress, her dark hair and bronze skin glowing under the moonlight, and the wind seems to bring her perfume to you. Almost if it was teasing your jealousness and provoking your feelings.

The leader greets Alucard with a tight hug and in this moment your heart slightly sinks. Ruminating about their possible conversation topic, you convince yourself she is just thanking him for the support he offered during these two years, and not complimenting his beautiful amber eyes or his soft blonde locks you combed yourself. She drags him to inside the small house, followed by other two villagers.

Your fists close, you start to bounce your leg in anxiety and Sypha who is much an observer, places her hand gently on yours and leans in, looking at you with tenderness:

“Y/N, calm down. He is going to talk to the elder ones. You have nothing to worry about. Greta isn’t stealing your man.”

She speaks in a laid-back tone, softly caressing your hand. You turn to face your friend but you can’t contain the concerned expression. Sypha chuckles a bit, not mocking at you, but finding your feeling extremely valid. You protest:

“I-I am not jealous, Sypha. I just---“

You can’t find better words to describe your feeling, so you just give in to Sypha’s moral lesson.

“You are jealous, Y/N. I can tell it by the pout in your face. But you know what? That’s completely understandable, dear friend. You are going through a lot of changes all over your body, it’s pretty normal.”

She leans in a little more and whispers in tone of secret:

“when I was pregnant, i argued with Trevor about anything. Even ale itself made me feel jealous of him”

Your friend takes your hand once again and continues:

“what you need to know, is that Alucard loves you no matter what. It wasn’t Greta who held him every night when his nightmares tormented him. It wasn’t Greta who took care of him at his lowest, my dear. Adrian loves you and he doesn't hide it"

You know Sypha meant every word, but why did you feel like Alucard would eventually get tired of you? Why did you think Greta would charm him with her strong sense of leadership and athletic phisique? You try to focus on something else ignoring the burning jealousy increasing and consuming your brain and on Sypha's trying to cheer you up.

You finally see Alucard step out from the cabin he entered with the leader of the village, his beautiful face beams with happiness as he chats something unhearable. Greta pulls him closer to where other young women beautifully dressed in those tradicional patterns organize themselves to start the dancing, he is probably greeting them.

The young men start playing the instruments, and the ladies dance in the rhythm. Seeing your husband idly moving his shoulders, you expect for the worst to happen. Greta takes him by his hand and starts teaching him how to move smoothly like the dancers, twirling around and expecting him to do the same. Adrian doesn't give a single glance at where you are sitting, he seems to be hypnotized by the moment.

You stand up and feel Sypha's tight grip on your wrist. You look down at her as she asks softly:

"Where are you going"

"I need to pee"

You force a smile and even if it was your intention, Sypha knew you were distancing for other motive. But she doesn't intervene, though. She just releases your wrist and focus on Trevor who seems to be in an alcoholic catalepsy by her side.

You walk towards the latrine behind the village, holding up the hem of dress so it wouldn't get stuck in the ivies underneath. Leaning against the wooden thin wall of the cabine, you feel an increasing heat take over your face and thick tears drop down from your eyes. The music of the festival sounds distant, but you can hear the people's laughing and cheering.

The crickets and night birds seem to be the only spectators of your breakdown until you hear a hoarse, unfamiliar voice approaching you.

"Why are you crying, beautiful lady?"

You pull up your head from the wall, turning to where the voice comes. The light of a torch reveals the silhouette of a man who limps towards you, speaking in an alcohol intoxicated voice.

"A beautiful lady like you shouldn't be here, all alone. Did you know the nightcreatures are still around?"

He laughs in a mischevious tone, spitting on the ground. Getting closer and closer, he sees your face and his eyes widen up, a smirk forms again in his face:

"Are you the dhampir's wife?"

You've never seen that man at the village, he has been here due to the festival, you guess. You gulp, shortly nodding your head:

"Y-yes, mister."

The man stays in silence for a while, his eyes roaming through your body like he he was chosing a piece of meat until they linger on your belly.

"You are pregnant! You are carrying that evil's seed! Your husband's race only brought disgrace to this land. This thing you carry in your womb is cursed, it has a cursed blood just like it's genitor. You are nothing but catter for that demon to spread his offspring"

Your heart sinks at the tone he speaks to you, his intoxicated breath stinging in your nose as he approaches. You can't move, your body freezes as he says:

"I will put an end on it"

He completes with a sly grin, spitting on the ground again:

"And insert mine inside this pretty belly of yours"

You try to run, but the man grabs you by your middle and starts to run his filthy hands across your cleavage. Where is Alucard? You stood with him during this thundery years and when you need him most, he is entertaining himself with Greta. You fear for your child as the man's fingers press deeper against your skin.

"If you screm, it's gonna be worse. They can't hear you"

The man whispers and all you can do is whimper.

All the while, Sypha watches the movement of people, the colors of the dancers' dresses twirling and the instruments sounds echoing to inside the forest. It's been 5 minutes and you didn't came back. She fears leaving you alone was a bad idea.

Her attention turns to Alucard who after chatting with the villagers and receiving their grateful compliments, happily heads to the bench eager to reunite with you. His face drastically changes noticing only Sypha (and a dozing off Trevor) are in there.

"Where is Y/N?"

He asks the woman, a concerned expression in his face, and he could see a slight frown or worry in Sypha's forehead, but she didn't want to alarm him by mentioning her concern.

"She went to the latrines minutes ago"

For a while, Alucard feels a little upset with your friend. She shouldn't have let you go on your own. He stays in silence for a while, deciding if he should go after you.

Your vision gets foggy by the tears, and you can't tell if the music stopped or you are just falling out of consciousness by the terror, but as the sounds of instruments finally fade completly, you scream in agony, hoping someone can hear you plead. Hoping Alucard could hear your plead.

Alucard's pupils shrink as he hears your recognizable voice and before Sypha could even ask him if he heard that too, he desappears in a figure darker than night, smoothly directing itself to where the sound of you came from. Sypha rushes after him, already closing her fists, ready to use her powers.

The drunken man slides his hand down to your womb, roughly pressing his thumbs onto your skin. You groan, tears falling down your cheeks. He is going to take the life of your so expected puiuţ.

The trees and people speed distorted as Alucard in his fog shape rushes in your rescue. His heart is filled with an unnatural rage, something he never felt before as he sees that filthy bastard hurting his beloved. Something similar to what his father might felt.

The dhampir materializes in front of the man, pushing him with anger against the stone wall of a house, the bastard couldn't even tell what was going on until he feels Alucard's piercering eyes, red as flames staring into his and his sharp fangs so close to his neck as he hisses like a serpent.

He was about to take his life when a sharp disc of ice cuts the bastard's skin. Alucard swiftly looks back and sees Sypha rushing towards you as you fall on your knees, sobbing. His attention then turns back to the man who feels the dhampir's fangs almost touching his throat.

"I am not marking this date so important for the villagers with your filthy blood. But get to know: if you touch my wife once again, i open your abdomen and wrap your guts around a tree with you alive."

This words doesn't seem to be spoken by your sweet Alucard. For a while, it feels like his father's anger for human kind took his mind and manifested phisically using his body.

He releases the drunk who limps florest inside and his eyes shift back to it's beautiful amber pigmentation, now filled with tears as he sees you broken on the ground attached to Sypha's shoulder, sobbing in shock.

"Shh... it's everything alright now, Y/N. He is gone"

Your friend rubs your back soothingly and helps you to stand up, but your arm never leaves hers until Alucard approaches, stretching his arms open to embrace you.

"Y/N! I am so sorry. I've failed you"

"H-he tried to kill our puiuţ..."

You whine and he rests his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter. He couldn't save his mother years ago, he couldn't save his father from his own madness. If he lost you to such an avoidable way, he couldn't forgive himself.

Sypha's heart sinks seeing her two friends in such a broken state. She hugs you both tightly and recomforts you, guiding you back to the festival.

No one of you including Trevor who was sleeping to the lullaby of alcohol had mood to continue in the village that night, going home was the only option. Your friends would sleep in the castle.

You didn't exchange a word way back to home until you silently opened the doors of your chambers and slowly slipped off from your dress. In the oval mirror, you could spot the two marks caused by the agressor's hands. A lump forms in your throat again, it's been q while since you don't feel your child, you fear the worst happened.

Alucard cames in, wrapping his arms around you though he hesitated for a while. He kisses your cheek and kneals down in front of you, pressing his ear against your belly.

"Can you hear it? The heartbeat... can you still hear anything?"

You speak, trying your best to not to cry being so aprehensive about his answer. He lingers a little, shifting his position and lowing down his breath.

"I can hear it."

He looks up at you, a sigh of relieve leaves your body.

"Our puiuţ is safe."

Alucard stands up after placing a kiss on your belly and wraps his arms around you, wiping away your relieved tears. You hug him tightly, sobs muffled by his chest and his tears fall over your hair as well.

"That was my fault"

You silently climb onto bed after calming down from the overwhelming night you had, and after minutes, he finally breaks the silence.

"It was my fault. If you or our baby got hurt, it would be my fault"

You didn't want to rub salt into the wound though you knew the incident was directly linked to the fact Alucard left you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you listen to his apologize.

"I should have known you would be pissed off with me because of Greta, but it was not my intention. Forgive me, darling. I promise i will never leave your side ever again"

He turns to face you with those droopy amber eyes, tears tangled between his long eyelashes and he blinks for them to follow their flow. You cup Alucard's cheek and gives him a ressuring smile. You couldn't be mad at him.

"Accepted"

Seeing Alucard have another breakdown was the last thing you wanted to see. He wraps his arms around you, hand resting on your belly like a shield as you sleep in a deep slumber, lulled by the wind knocking on the window.

[avocado-slander]

Random ask game asks

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

What's one thing that's stereotypical about you?

Play any instruments?

A show everyone criticizes that you like

A music artist everyone criticizes that you like

Last show you watched

Last movie you watched

Last song you listened to

Last book you read

Your top five most listened to artists this month on Spotify (if you don't use Spotify just say the artists you listen to most)

Ever drank alcohol?

Every smoked anything?

Do you prefer to eat-in or take-out?

If you could time travel what decade would you go to first

An actor everyone loves that you don't like for whatever reason

Something not in your regional dialect that is in your vocabulary

Color of your eyes?

Do you need glasses?

Speak any other languages?

Have any tattoos?

Want any tattoos?

Have any piercings?

Want any piercings?

Do you prefer the hot or cold weather?

Cats or dogs? Or some other pet?

Trendy over comfortable or comfortable over trendy?

Say one thing bad about something you love

Do you prefer to read digitally or from a physical book?

Do you put milk in your hot tea?

Do you know how to play any popular gambling games?

If you have sibling(s) are you the oldest middle or youngest?

A character you relate to for whatever reason?

A quote (from anything) you really love

How many pairs of shoes do you have

Do you have trouble saying any words because of your accent/speech problems?

Earbuds or headphones?

Showers or baths?

Early bird or night owl?

Candles or scented spray?

How often do you change your clothes?

Chess or checkers?

Something you can do that you think is cool?

Perfume or body spray?

What's something that genuinely scares you

LED lights, the room light, or sunlight?

What's something you do differently than everyone else?

If you have hair how often do you style it in some way?

Nail polish, press on nails, or acrylic nails?

How many pets do you have

What's a nickname everyone calls you?

A card/dice/board game you love?

Do you have any fidget toys? If so what's your favorite?

Do you drive?

Your go-to genre of music?

Are you a good multitasker?

Silence or background noise?

A famous movie/show that you've never seen

Any sport you would like to play?

Can you write in cursive?

Is your handwriting neat or at least easy to read?

Colored pencils, markers, or crayons?

How many pillows do you sleep with?

How many blankets do you sleep with?

Do you ever plan to get married one day?

Do you ever plan to have kid(s) one day?

Do you subscribe to any religion?

Something in your room that you think is funny for whatever reason

Would you rather be an actor, singer, comedian, or would you do something on YouTube/twitch/some other site

Are you scared of the dentist?

Do you wear makeup?

If you could be any character of the opposite sex, who would you be?

In the literal sense, are you an introvert or extrovert?

What's something in your room that makes no sense without context

Favorite show as a kid?

Something you know you liked as a kid that you don't remember much from?

Favorite subject in school?

If you could visit any place in the world where would you go?

A show/movie thats been on your watchlist forever but you for some reason keep putting off

Is the name you use online your real name? (Real name does not mean deadname)

Do you have a favorite sibling?

If you were to have a kid what names would you have in mind?

Do you think things like anniversaries are a big deal?

Mobile games or PC/console games?

Do you believe in things like ghosts?

What was your first pets name?

Long sleeve + shorts or short sleeve + pants

Can you do any voice impressions?

What was the first fandom you were genuinely into

Do you prefer womens or mens products?

Scrunchies or ties?

would you be fine having your partner completely provide for you?

Plain clothes or vibrant and eye catching clothes?

Worst date youve ever been on?

Movie date or restaurant date?

Do you split the check or expect only one of you to be paying it?

Favorite fast food place?

How do you make your coffee?

Do you pay attention to the music or the lyrics more?

Are you more energetic or tame?

Are you witty?

[mazeinthemiroh]

can i request an ateez reaction pls? how about one where their s/o writes them a little note or love letter in the morning before they have to leave for practice~ just sumn super cute for some cuties

ateez when their s/o writing notes for them

genre: romance, fluff

word count: 1.4k

warnings: too fluffy

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

hongjoong

it's a daunting week ahead for hongjoong. he has to shoot a music video, write more songs for the upcoming album, host the idol radio, learn some new choreography, and so much more. he has to think ahead. he had already set out his outfit for the day before he went to sleep last night, because he knew he wouldn't have time to think in the morning. on putting the outfit on, he checked out how it was in the mirror, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his baggy trosuers.

oh! there was something inside the pocket. hongjoong's eyebrows furrowed in confusions as he grabbed what felt like a folded piece of paper from the bottom of his pocket. he unfolded the note: 'don't forget how amazing you are, and how hard you've worked. my gorgeous boyfriend, i love you so.' what a perfect thought to be eft with before starting the day.

seonghwa

seonghwa was always saying romantic things whenever he go the chance. whether he was quoting a cliche line from a romantic kdrama he watched the other day or whether he formulated these lovey-dovey sayings himself, that you'd never know. but it did warm your heart, as much as they made you giggle. you felt it was time to do something for him in return.

a simple post-it note was placed on the shiny surface of his bathroom mirror. you knew he would go in there first thing in the morning. and that's exactly what he did. as his eyes clocked the piece of paper waiting for him, he walked up to the mirror and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, before reading the note: 'my shining star, i hope you light up the world with you presence just as you have brought light into my life <3' he grabbed the note and kept it in his phonecase ever since, wondering what he did to deserve you.

yunho

there was a lot of places you could've put this secret little note. but you wanted to channel your inner yunho. he was always coming up with random ideas; he's brain excited you, enthralled you and confused you all at once. you wanted to be different like him, whilst also giving him a sweet little message for the morning.

his shoes. you put the note in his shoes. of course you did. and as he shoved his carpet grippers into his shoes, he felt something was already in there. he was bewildered, to say the least. on further inspection, he realised a piece of paper was waiting for him in there. he grabbed it out and laughed when he saw your handwriting: 'i love you, my big friendly giant :P' and, oh, how he loved you more for this.

yeosang

this was a habit sparked off by yeosang himself. verbal affection never came easy to him, but he felt the cute urge to write you a little love note. just something short and sweet. but it made your heart soar. you wanted him to feel the same. so now you had the tendency to leave little notes around the house for him to find before he went to practice.

yeosang smiled down at yet another note he came across that you had left in the fridge, laying on a chocolate bar, waiting for him: 'your love is like chocolate; sweet, delicious, and something i can't live without :3' he laughed at the cheesy sense of humour. he couldn't believe how adorable you were. grabbing the note and keeping it in his pocket for the rest of the day.

san

san sat at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. his eyes scanned the page carefully as he took in every word. you had left him a letter on your side of the bed. 'i love you so much,' at first he was worried that you were breaking up with him. now, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration; he couldn't fathom you'd go through this much effort to express your love for him.

'i know you're going to do great this week', 'i am filled with so much joy when i see you doing the things you love', 'you're one of the best dancers out there; you set the standard so high', 'i'm so proud of you.' sometimes san dreaded going in, he admits. it can be a lot of pressure. it can feel like the whole world is on his soldiers. and now he's crying tears of joy, knowing he's got a number 1 supporter behind his back. always. he had never felt so lucky.

mingi

you have to wake up much earlier to go to work/school than mingi does, so it isn't a rare occurence to see you leave him before he even fully wakes up. on these days, mingi is said. he's prone to being super sleepy in the mornings but he doesn't want to go most of the day without properly interacting with his favourite person. some days he even forces himself to wake up when you do.

but usually he's asleep till long after you have gone, just like this very morning. dragging himself out of bed, getting ready for the long day ahead, mingi was finally ready to go to work after yet another lonesome morning routine. only this time, as he headed for the front door, there was a note taped onto it and waiting for him: 'to my favourite person, you've got this. can't wait to cuddle you silly when i get back!'

wooyoung

you had managed to expertly stick a post-it note to wooyoung's forehead while he was still sleeping. his sleeping patterns were so inconsistent; sometimes, he was a light sleeper and would always whine and complain about every little movement you made beside him. other times, he would sleep like a rock, completely unaware to his surroundings.

which you took advantage of today. and now, when he had finally woken up, he was confronted with yellow paper stuck to his face. 'go get 'em, tiger ;)' he rolled his eyes and chuckled at your little note, the familiarity of your handwriting making him feel some type of way. you knew he had a big performance today. he couldn't help but feel charmed by your cute little note.

jongho

jongho is another member who doesn't know what to do when it comes to verbal affection. sometimes it would be hard to communicate such loving, personal feelings to him because he simply doesn't know how to respond sometimes. and he doesn't want to say the wrong thing so he freezes up. but you found a different way to show him you love.

a single card was placed on the bed-side table. on opening it, jongho was graced with genuine declarations of love through your handwriting. it was the last thing you said stood out to him the most: 'i'm so proud of the person you have become, and so honoured to have been the one to see you grow into the man i love.' he would never admit it, but it was hard not to tear up.

[satureja13]

(Poll below)

Jack logged out from his Therapy Game and he couldn't be happier. Tiny Can did a very good job. Though, he'll have to have a word with Tiny Can and the goats about that BL content. But maybe he's supposed to start a romance with Lou to forget about Kiyoshi?

Saiwa is so happy that Jack didn't feel the pain from his rash ingame :3 So it seems that the feelings from ingame do not effect their life here (like Vlad's ingame hunger) and the feelings and sensations from out of the game won't necessarily affect their characters ingame. Poor Vlad is torn. He's happy that Jack's therapy went so much better than his own playtest, but he's afraid to send Ji Ho in the game. What if he really is going to marry Caleb? But he can't be selfish. Ji Ho deserves his therapy. And if it helps Ji Ho, he will survive it too.

Jack: "So Sai, my friend. When will you go to your therapy?" Sai: "Uhm..." Saiwa is hesistant. He's their leader and should have been the first to check the Therapy Game and if it's safe for the others, but he's not ready yet to face his problems. And that's fine. The door to change can only be opened from the inside. (This quote is written on the wall at the front desk of my psychiatrist. Another one says 'Change needs time'.)

Jack: "I'm just kidding. I bet no one can stop Ji Ho from checking out now if he's really Caleb's bride! Right, Ji Ho?" Ji Ho laughs a bit nervous: "A haha, yes. Can't wait." Of course Ji Ho can't wait. Caleb is the dream of each of them (well, except Vlad's). But he also knows this will hurt Vlad.

Vlad has to leave to care for Jeb and Kiyoshi. They quickly charge the Bond and Vlad tries to let Ji Ho know through the Bond that he's ok with whatever happens in the Therapy Game. But he's not even fooling Diablo...

Ji Ho is torn. Is it really ok to hurt Vlad's feelings when it's necessary for his therapy and well being?

Ji Ho asked Jack and Sai what they would do. Jack thought about it too. But he does not have a partner right now so he's up for it should Lou hit on him. Saiwa agrees that Ji Ho should go for it. It's just a game after all and NPC Caleb is not the real Caleb. Nothing is real in the Therapy Game.

Jack: "So, it would be ok for you if Jeb had a boyfriend ingame?" Saiwa hisses and Jack realized that he went to far. Jack: "This isn't as easy a decision as it seems, huh."

It's time to go to bed. They are tired but Jack is still happily chatting about the game and they are glad it went so well for him. And even though they saw some scenes on the screen, they listen. It wasn't possible to watch everything anyway. Jack had been away for a few hours and they took turns to watch over him. And it's interesting to hear how it had been for Jack and how he experienced his Therapy Game.

If Ji Ho's therapy goes well too, Saiwa will try it. One day they will have to return back home to the others and he'd better be prepared to face Kiyoshi and Jeb again. He misses Jeb so much it hurts. But he has no idea how they are supposed to get over this fake realtionship he had with Kiyoshi. Even though they both agreed to it because they had no choice.

'May the ghosts that howled round the house at night Never keep you from your sleep May they all sleep tight down in hell tonight Or wherever they may be

As I walked on with a heavy heart then a stone danced on the tide And the song went on though the lights were gone And the North wind gently sighed

And an evening breeze coming from the East That kissed the riverside So I pray now child that you sleep tonight when you hear this lullaby

May the wind that blows from haunted graves never bring you misery May the angels bright watch you tonight And keep you while you sleep'

Lullaby of London - The Pogues (Such a beautiful song. Shane McGowan, the head of the Pogues, died November last year but he left us all his beautiful music. He was so gifted.)

Outtakes

A screenshot from the Therapy Game and a photo of Jack, 'The Pioneer' ^^'

Because no way we're having a normal meal where we all stay sit at the table and have a normal meal together -.-

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[fob4ever]

pete, patrick & andy on elvis duran 3.24.23

x

one time during a snl performance they were jumping around so much that it shook all the snl sets because they didnt know they were all connected lol

patrick talks about early days fob, how he never expected fob to be anything more than a side project for pete & andy bc they were in bigger bands at the time. he didnt even expect it to last the summer!

andy: “i can see into the future so i knew.”

interview: “[when touring] do you keep away from each other or spend a ton of time together?” andy: “all of that. seriously. we know when to stay away, we still hang out, we go to movies together, we get food together but also have our separate time.”

patrick talks about how it took a while to understand anger/frustration of people in the band “it’s like, ‘is pete mad at me?’ no! he’s frustrated with something.” talks about how theres not a lot of leaving the room and going “what was up with HIM???” anymore. “you know what everybody’s feeling, it’s kind of intuitive now.”

pete likes how genre-less music is nowadays

interviewer asks if pete gets opinions from his kids re: fob music. pete: “they give a lot of feedback, in general. [...] i don't take all of their advice, i don't let them a&r all of the songs, but they're pretty good at it.”

patrick does a johnny carson impression (bc andy quoted a line from a skit.. cute)

patrick talks about feeling like an older brother/”parental” when ppl injure themselves at shows now “i hope they’re okay! don’t break something!”

patrick: “i think i sleep so much less now than i ever used to... with kids, and i'm a little bit of a workaholic so when im not on stage im doing other things. i need to relax a bit i think.”

patrick [on working with neal avron again]: “it's like going back to your childhood home, but now you can drink.”

pete talks about how nihilism can be paralyzing for him, and how he sometimes doesn’t want to do anything because of it, but he feels that “life is short, so you gotta do a lot of stuff, you gotta make friends, do crazy things, make art... you just have to do things, and that’s important.”

patrick: “that was a heavy answer!”

pete: “life lessons are not meant to be [p&p in unison] light...”

interviewer asks how joe is! patrick: “he's good. i talked to him yesterday. i think its tough for him because he knows that he has to do it, but then he also hates not being here. it's difficult for him but he needed it. i think it's great to check in with him because he's just so excited to get back to it.” joe <3

interviewer asks about social media, and how it affects them because their radio station can get a bad tweet/review and it affects them badly, how does fob deal with it?  

patrick: “i left. that's one of the reasons why i left. it just became this wild place for a little while [...] i'm also one of those people [that puts] it all into music, so i can't really communicate through other things."

pete pulls his sleeve down over his hand to sneeze into it. i just thought it was endearing lol

pete is pro-tiktok. he likes that people takes it and makes it their own through remixes/memes 

suddenly! someone’s phone goes off. their ringtone is “fake out”. patrick gets SO excited he cuts the interviewer off mid question- “is that someone’s ringtone?! that makes me so happy! :D” he talks about how he never knows how the new stuff is going to be recieved so hearing it as someone’s ringtone made him super happy :D

AI talk in music (this kills the man --> me)

patrick: "i will say that if a song doesn't go over really well, and it's really hard to sing, i'm like: 'we don't HAAAVE to do that one, right?!'"

patrick: "we made [folie a deux] with neal avron and it was very experimental and we were pushing things and seeing what we could do, but we as a band at that time were very fractured and all over the place... i had this wanderlust to get back in the studio with [neal] now, because we are a such different band of people at this point. we get on so much better, we communicate better- both interpersonally and musically, so i was like, 'i would like to see that again'. [...] andy, you said it was like 'superpowers' we all have superpowers now. so i feel like the sound of this record is really just us actualised as us, at the height of our power.” (they say that last bit together : ) )

pete: “this is a record where we were able to realize that, 'oh! guitars are happening, and there's this fest happening in vegas, mgk, all these things...' and my friend was like, 'you guys should just do swgd part 2!' and i remember thinking, 'we absolutely have to NOT do that.' but we've got to do something that's adjacent, something that reminds everyone of fall out boy and i think with this record we've blended all of the eras of fall out boy together.”

[elliespassagerprincess]

Idk if ur taking requests anymore, but I rly love ur stories! Could you do an Ellie x reader story based on the song together by beabadoobee? THANK UUU!!

Together (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! thank you sm for the request, and for the compliment, i started giggling... i hope you enjoy this pookie <3

This story is based off the song Together by Beabadoobee, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one! You can send me a song and I'll take it from there!

Warnings: toxic relationships, death, suicide and self harm and a little blasphemy

Summary: Your relationship was toxic, you both knew this... but yet both of you couldn't stay away from each other

wc: 1.7k

(If you want to be added to my tag list, just leave a comment so i can tag you in future work!)

Crash the car again

The same mistakes again

Don't wanna hurt you like I did

Screaming, crying, dishonesty. These were some of the words you used to describe you and Ellie’s relationship. It was unhealthy. It was toxic. Religious people would always quote that one bible verse where it says a dog would vomit and then it would go back to eat its vomit. The same way sinners would go back to sin. The same way you would go back to Ellie.

You and Ellie’s relationship hadn’t always been toxic, there were happy times too. The times she would come over and the two of you would watch a movie together, that one time Ellie snuck you out of Jackson to show you a dinosaur museum. You were happy. Very happy.

Until Joel died.

When Joel died Ellie changed. She became cold, distant.

 But you understood why. She was grieving.

And you truly did assume that eventually she’ll go back to normal. But then her obsession with finding Abby started. She left Jackson. You were broken.

Life without Ellie felt like a life without sunlight. There was no light. No joy. It was cold. You remembered the countless nights of you crying yourself to sleep. The nights you would reach over and touch the side of the bed Ellie lay on. It was always cold. The cold side of the bed was a painful reminder that she chose revenge over you.

But Ellie came back to Jackson.

You were happier than ever.  Because you waited for Ellie. You put your life on hold for her, because you couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Ellie changed. She became more aggressive. One second she would be ok the next moment she’d explode with anger. Hurtful words leaving her mouth. And that was when you decided to breakup with her, for the first time.

The breakup lasted 2 weeks. And you went back to her again. The arguments and lies got worse, and you left. For a second time. But not long after you came back. You would always come back.

That’s probably why you were standing outside Ellie’s house. The two of you had an argument 3 weeks ago. Ellie had lied to you about where she slept the previous night saying “don’t worry baby I’m going to Maria and Tommy” but you soon found out she went to her ex-girlfriend’s house.

She lied. You were hurt. You felt Betrayed. And you broke up with her again.

But you came back. You had to talk to Ellie.

But for the first time ever, you weren’t here to take Ellie back, you weren’t here to listen to her bullshit promises, you were here to say goodbye. You were her to end it all, so that you could be free from Ellie’s harsh words. You were doing this for yourself. And for the sake of your mental health.

You shakily reached for the door, your left had curling into a fist, you felt the wood on your knuckles as you lightly knocked.

The door flew open, revealing Ellie in all her glory. Her autumn brown hair is longer, reaching past her shoulders, dark circles covered the bottom of her beautiful eyes.

“Baby?” she asked softly eyes wide.

'Cause I'm not waiting for you

But I don't want to hurt you

Ellie knew Joel’s death affected her in more ways than one. She knew her mental health suffered because of his death. Out of everyone she hurt and killed the last person she wanted to cause any harm to was you. But it was as if she couldn’t stop herself from hurting you.

She couldn’t kill Abby because she knew it wouldn’t bring Joel back. She was filled with anger. Pain. Hatred and she didn’t know how to get it out. And there you were. Her soft and sweet girl, that waited for her.

In a way Ellie was jealous of you. How innocent you were. All the people she killed, everything she did to try and get Joel some justice, just made her dirty. And there you were. Ellie sometimes wondered why you wouldn’t just leave her. All she did was hurt you.

She wanted to make you feel what she felt all these months as she went after Abby. But yet you stayed. And that’s why she was so surprised to see you standing in front of her house with a small smile on your face.

“Hi els” you spoke softly; your eyes briefly fell to the floor as if you were preparing to tell her something. Something big. Something Important.

 After a few seconds your eyes met again, and you spoke once more; “we need to talk”

All alone again

It hurts my heart again

I think my blood is running thin

I'm away again

It hurts my head again

Don't wanna be away from your skin

As toxic as your relationship was, you both couldn’t stay away from each other. The countless times you and Ellie broke up, the two of you would sneak out to meet each other. Just to be in each other’s presence.

 Neither you or Ellie would never admit it: but you can’t live without each other. The two of you had built such a bond that you were both so incredibly dependent on the other for comfort. All the nights Ellie cried when you left her, all the days Ellie would plead and beg you to come back because she would change and she would be a better person. She really tried. But she couldn’t. Her past was haunting her. It traumatized her. Broke her beyond repair. When she looks at you the only thing she could imagine was all the people she had to kill. But at the same time she felt comforted by your smile.

Ellie was planning on changing but she doesn’t know how.

 How does one go back to the way they were before they watched their father figure get brutally murdered?

But you had other plans. There isn’t going to be a next time. You weren’t going to let Ellie say another word that will put you into another depressive episode. You had to end it all.

You sat across her, and Ellie felt like her heart was being ripped into a million pieces. It felt like her heart was shattered, and you were watching her bleed pout.

She had been shot, stabbed, but the pain of the words you muttered, hurts even more.

“Earth to Ellie” you said because she went silent. She zoned out thinking of all the ways she could try to get back together with you.

 “No” Ellie spoke “you can’t do this”

“I can” you said softly the room fell silent, the tension rising.

 “Ellie” you spoke again “we can never be together again” you started “you hurt me too much” and Ellie felt shame wash over her.

“I’m sorry” she said with a pleading look in her eyes “I’ll change” and Ellie watched you shake your head.

“You never fucking changed, what makes me think you’ll do it now?” you spoke harshly.

You got up and started walking towards the door. Ellie felt the tears running down her cheeks. She watched your figure walk towards the door. You didn’t even look back at her.

 “Goodbye Ellie”

Hurt myself again

I thought you'd notice it

Don't wanna fix it like you did

Your body was found on a Saturday morning. You were hanging from the roof. You had hung yourself. You didn’t leave a note. No one knows why you killed yourself. Your secrets died with you, the reason and the problems you faced, went to the grave with you. And this puzzled Ellie.

Why didn’t you tell her?

 Yes, your relationship was bad, but you could’ve told her. She would’ve helped you. She would’ve hurt those who harmed you.

Two days after your body was found your words ran in Ellie’s mind.

You keep hurting me….

It was her. Ellie was the problem. Ellie was the reason you felt so depressed that you ended your life.

 It was all her fault

She felt bad, guilty. She murdered you. She had your blood on her hands. Ellie didn’t deserve to be alive. The day of your funeral she watched as your body was lowered into the ground, Ellie’s loud sobs echoing across all of Jackson. Ellie wished that was her. She wished she was the one being buried because you didn’t deserve that. Ellie start hurting herself. She’d watch her blood drip onto her bed as she cut herself. She wishes she could give some of her blood to you. She wishes she could give life back to you. Her blood in exchange for your life. The way Jesus died on the cross to give us eternal life the same way she wanted to die. For you. To give you the life you deserved.

I think I'm okay by myself, I'm doing great

But we'd be better together, better together

Together though, together though, together again

Ellie thought your death would be good for her. Maybe if you weren’t there she’d be ok. But your death made everything worse for Ellie. She thought she could live in a world without you. She realized she couldn’t and as Ellie took her final breath as she lay on her bed bleeding out, she hoped that she would be reunited with you in the afterlife, that the two of you would finally be together.

 They say death separates people. Death rips families and relationships apart. And that’s what Joel’s death did to you and Ellie’s relationship. His death ruined the only good thing both of you had left. But now that both you and Ellie have passed away, she hoped that her death might bring you back together. For your souls to be intertwined.

Ellie hoped that if God was real that he would take pity on her and forgive her sins. That He let the two of you be together in the afterlife. That death would bring you closer. And that you’d be together forever.

Authors note: Sorry for going MIA again, life has been kinda messy rn, but I promise I’ll try and get more stories out soon, to all the requests in my inbox, I swear I’ll write your stories soon. Remember you are loved and my requests are always open!!

Yours truly

Zia <3

[belphies-cowgirl]

gifts they've given you

bonus characters: Luke & Simeon

word count: 700+

a record of the song that Lucifer composed for you, along with its sheet music gently bound together by a crimson-colored ribbon. he spent many nights working on and perfecting it for you. sometimes you'd sneak into the music room to see him and he'd quickly hide the sheet music with his cheeks tinted pink. he'd then pull out some sheet music for the two of you to play together, and gently rest his hands on top of yours (if you can't play, he'll happily teach you how!)

a pair of Mammon's sunglasses and one of his rings. he had caught you dancing in his room wearing his sunglasses one evening. and he practically melted into the floor from how cute you looked. he let you have them even though they were his favorite pair. he gave you one of his rings because whenever you play with or hold his hands you always comment on how pretty his rings are. he always blushes when you show it off or absentmindedly play with it in class.

headphones that Levi made specifically for you. he had noticed you kept having a hard time finding the perfect headphones to use while gaming with him or listening to music. he didn't want you to keep wasting grimm on another pair that either didn't last long, lost its sound quality, or felt uncomfortable to wear during long gaming sessions. so he spent hours making the perfect headphones for you with a design you would love. he even added a mini version of Henry 2.0 on the adjuster pieces.

there's a secret door in your room that leads to a book nook Satan built for you. the bookshelf you had was already filled to the brim, and finding some quiet time to read by yourself or with him was a rare occasion. inside were fairy lights and plants that hung from the ceiling, shelves filled with your favorite books, wall decor you liked, and a comfortable resting spot full of pillows and blankets. it's also the perfect place for you and him to take cat naps together.

outfits and jewelery that Asmo has made and designed for you. he loves it when you let him dress you up or when you show up to an event in an outfit he designed for you. you take his breath away every time and he has to contain himself from taking them off of you at the end of the night. body piercings, rings, bracelets, chokers, and necklaces litter your dresser. don't worry he got you pretty jewelry boxes and stands to keep them all safe and on display. 

you have a sheep, cheeseburger, and sushi roll plushie that Beel bought for you on your birthday one year. you have them lined up neatly against the wall in your bed. Beel has had to hunt Belphie down a couple of times to get them back (that little shit-) you also have one of his t-shirts that's covered in his scent and you either sleep in it or use it as a pillowcase. he's happy to wear it again whenever his scent has faded.

your ceiling is COVERED in glow stars, moons, and planets. Belphie had spent hours carefully placing them on your ceiling. it took so long because he was replicating all the constellations, and even added a new constellation right above your bed to symbolize you, him, and Beel. one time while he was napping in your room a star had dropped onto his cheek and he came to dinner that evening with it still stuck on him. 

a copy of a fanfic that Simeon wrote one time about the two of you when he had a bit too much demonus. he had written the entire thing in one night and left hearts on each corner of the pages. you sometimes quote lines from the fanfic just to see him get flustered and start mumbling incoherent sentences. it's tucked away neatly on your bookshelf next to the folder of love letters and poetry he's written for you.

a framed photo of you and Luke after winning a baking competition (Simeon sobbed while taking the picture) it depicted you smiling with your arms wrapped around him and an adorable smile plastered across his face as he held up the first-place ribbon. you both signed the back of the frame with the date and added a heart and smiley face next to each other's names. the frame is baby-blue with glittery gold stars. and it sits proudly on your nightstand. 

✄ ——————————————————————

feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3

please do not use my work as your own! 

m.list

[acourtofladydeath]

"All Things End"

Presenting my updated fic with an immersive reading experience!

This fic holds a special piece of my soul, and I wrote it as a keyboard smash direct to post through a river of tears. I've reread it many times, but decided to step back and really revisit it.

With much help from @chunkypossum and @pippsmcgee this piece has been properly edited, updated, and even rewritten in spots. Much alcohol was consumed and many tears were shed in this process by all parties. I cannot thank them enough for their understanding of past tense, emotional stamina to relive this over and over, and never ending support as I obsessively messaged them with song ideas and editing updates. @pippsmcgee deserves incredibly special thanks for her editing services, which are, to quote her, "drunk enough to be clinical, but not so drunk I can't do subject verb agreement."

For the immersive component, I've created two playlists to go along with this fic. The "'All Things End Direct' Accompaniment" playlist has been formulated and tested to be listened to as you read the fic, with each song matching a specific scene or emotion you will encounter. The timing of the playlist should work out so that you only have to finish listening to the end of a song before proceeding to the next chapter. The first and last song are posted in the pre notes of each chapter in AO3.

The "'All Things End' Extended Playlist" includes all of the songs in the previous playlist as well as additional songs that did not match the timing of the read, but do match the emotions. This playlist is continually updated as I come across new songs that deserve a place here.

My wish is that this fic touches you, my readers, as much as it has touched me to write and curate the playlists. There is beauty and love to be found everywhere, even in death. Thank you for interacting and I sincerely hope you enjoy.

Please hydrate and get tissues before you start.

Below the cut you can find a full break down of each song per chapter, including explanations and authors notes.

Chapter 1: Inside Fading Out

"All Things End" by Hozier, the first four songs are all meant to be iterations of the emotions Azriel experiences as he learns and processes his mate's diagnosis and prognosis.

"Breathe (2AM)" by Anna Nalick

"Amen" by Amber Run

"The Call" by Regina Spektor

"Light" by Sleeping At Last, this song represents Azriel's will power to stand by his mate and take care of him no matter what.

"I'm Not Gonna Miss You" by Glenn Campbell, written during his own battle with Alzheimer's and meant to parallel Eris's own. On the extended playlist, you can find the song "Tell You About Her" by Ryan Nealon, which he wrote about his grandma and her struggle with dementia.

"Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane, meant to accompany Azriel and Eris together in his last days, and represent how they still find each other.

"I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie, to indicate the love these two have for each other, even in the darkness of disease and death.

Chapter 2: Broken Pieces

"Come Sweet Death" by Johann Sebastian Back, performed by Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra

"Adagio for Strings, Op. 11" by Samuel Barber, performed by Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic

"Ghost" by Micky, the song that started this entire playlist and represents Azriel's emotions after losing his mate.

"Saturn" by Sleeping At Last and Tim Fain. This song inspired Linna's eulogy to Eris

Chapter 3: What Remains

"Hurts Like Hell" by Tommee Profitt and Lauren Strahm, performed by Fleurie and Tommee Profitt, this song reflects on Azriel's state of mind after his mate's funeral. This song was also one of the initial inspirations for this chapter. The second song that influenced this chapter "As The World Caves in by Matt Maltese covered by Sarah Cothran can be found on the extended playlist.

"Impassioned Lament" by Andrew Achilles DiMestico. The story of Patroclus and Achilles heavily inspired me while writing this fic and this song represents Azriel's flight to the Night Court. I wrote the entire fic to my Patroclus X Achilles playlist, also available on spotify.

"Breathe Me" by Sia, represents Azriel asking his Night Court family for help.

"Homeward Bound" sung by Peter Hollens, meant to reflect on Azriel realizing his home is in Autumn and leaving the Night Court for the last time.

"To Build A Home" by J. Swinscoe, Patrick Watson, & Phil France and performed by Patrick Watson, & The Cinematic Orchestra. This song is meant to reflect on Azriel and Eris's relationship with the tree and with each other. It accompanies Azriel's last day and him stepping through the veil with Eris.

Chapter 4: Outside Looking In

"Life and Death" by Michael Giacchino, performed by Michael Giacchino, The Hollywood Studio Symphony, and Tim Simonec. This is the death theme that plays in the show "Lost" and reflects on the pain of the moment.

"Brother" by Kodaline. Instead of sharing the meaning of this song, I'm going to share a line that carved out a bat boy sized piece of my soul.

Oh, brother, we go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos. Though we don't share the same blood you're my brother and I love you, that's the truth.

"On the Nature of Daylight" by Max Richter, performed by Chris Worsey, John Metcalfe, Louisa Fuller, Max Richter, Natalia Bonner, & Philip Sheppard. A bittersweet song that reflects on love and loss.

"Think Of Me Once In A While, Take Care" by Take Care

"Into the West" performed by Peter Hollens. This is meant to be the song that Azriel sings from the symphonia during the funeral, and a song he would sing to Linna when she had nightmares. Other songs on the symphonia can be found in the extended playlist: "Edge of Night" performed by Peter Hollens, "Lullaby" by Sleeping At Last, and “Dear Theodosia” from the Hamilton soundtrack written by Lin-Manuel Miranda and performed by Leslie Odom Jr and Lin-Manuel Miranda.

"Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole. This song represents the underlying theme of the fic. That even deep within his disease Eris still remembered his mate. The song was intended to tell the story of how love can surpass everything, even death, just as it does in this fic.

If you've made it this far down, thank you so much for taking the time to join me on this journey. It's truly been a labor of love and I'm so excited to finally be sharing it with you all.

[poemnic-tarot]

Pick a Poem To See Your Messages!🐋

(Disclaimer : This is a general reading please only take what resonate. For entertainment purposes only)

🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫 You Are Loved 🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫

Pile 1⚡️ - Where am I tonight? by @cant-find-my-name

Where am I tonight?

Although I search for myself

Long and Hard

Still, I could not find

Who was I looking for?

Who am I?,

When I shine spotlight on it

It seem difficult to define,

'To define is to limit"

Then, I must not be

Who I thought I would be

But hopefully, whoever I will become Would still be me

And maybe that person

May be the person I was looking for,

Eventually, I will reconcile the me now

And the Me

I wish to be

Meaning:

This poem is about looking for yourself. Sometime, you don't even notice that you are not who you thought you are. In this 3D world, there are a lot of projections from people, whether that would be from families, friends, school or organisations. That would have definitely distorted yourself image. An image of yourself, you thought you are this type of person, value this thing until one day, you realised that was not you at all. When you finally have time to get to know yourself, a lot of your initial impression of yourself changed. I could never do that, I would never do this. That's definitely not me. Example, I'm not the type to dance to a cover song and post it online. I will never see myself sing publicly for millions to see.I would never dye my hair blue, etc. But when you uncovered yourself bit by bit, possibilities are endless. Things you would never thought that you would do, you find yourself seeing the possibilities for the first time. Trying to reconcile a part of you that you have no idea who she/he/they is/are. One part said, 'I could never start my own business’ the other part would go, ‘let's try it!.’ Whatever I want to be?, successful, brave, hard- working, relax, blue hair?, that's who I'm going to be.

The Messages

There's a natural progression to your self evolution. You might not notice but you have grow a lot Pile one. Steadily, becoming someone you alway admire. Now you're standing in that position or could be in that position. Example, you saw a singer on stage doing an amazing job and she really inspire you and you want to be like her one day. Well, one day is here or will be here shortly. Give yourself some credit, you grew up beautifully despite going through horrid events after events. Heartbreak after heartbreak. You bloomed purely, and will continue to do so. One minute you're a child and the next you are a teenager and a young adult. And next an adult. Life moves fast but you did not waste time. You used it to your advantage. Time did not used you. Maybe who you are chasing to become, has alway been there all along.

"What if we already are, who we been dying to become" this quote is from the song you got, Four by Sleeping at Last.

Have more faith and trust in yourself. You are progressing naturally, beautifully, unfolding.

Quote- "Because we can't see what's ahead, you have to trust that the dots will connect in your future."

Trust that the person you need in any situation will appear. Appear almost alway, it's you. You are that person.

Affirmation : "I give myself permission to be alone, connect with myself and appreciate my solitude"

Signs: 77, 678, VII, baby breath, Mirror

Song : Four by Sleeping At Last

What if we already are Who we've been dying to become In certain light, I can plainly see A reflection of magnificence Hidden in you Maybe even in me

🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫 You Are Loved 🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫

Pile 2🍊 - “Life Lesson” by @cant-find-my-name

Human aren't perfect

The lesson wasn't learn

So let try again

And learn it one more time,

You'll get infinite chances

Who to say enough is enough?

Except you of course, remember

You have all the say

You are the Authority of your life

No one should drive it

You must make your own decisions

And live by it

Or else, resentment will come

If you give your life control

By someone

Meaning:

This poem is about learning the same lessons twice, thrice or even fourth times. Doesn't matter as long as we are still trying to learn. As long as we are alive and growing. As long as it take to learn the lesson of life. As long as you don't give up on life. Chances are infinite, if only you give it to yourself. People tend to give limited/ restricted timeline to their life for whatever reason. Example, I should have marry before turning 30 or I'm 39 why aren't my goals and dream coming true?. The one to accept those as truth is you and only you. You have to make your own choice. This poem talked about making decision for you, no one else. Or else when you have to live a life by that decision, you may find yourself hating the person you made it for. Example, I made a decision to go to college and did medicine, not because I want to but I did it for my parent. That mean the lesson has not been learn and you are living a life not for you. And there will come a day, the choices will come again, and it will be up to you to make the decision. Will you continue the same path, the same pattern or will you choose yourself for once?. This is the idea where the poem is based on.

The Messages:

It's okay to start again. The new ideas or project or business plan that you are considering, Go for it. It is alright to begin anew, leave behind what didn't work out because it was just an experienced. We shouldn't judge an outcome from our experienced whether they are successful ones or not so successful. Because all of them are equally ours and all of them were necessary to teach us what we needed to learned at that time. Time for a new outlook, you are afraid to be disappointed like before but you are not the same person as you were. If your goals is abundance, isn't it better to try every ways we can towards it?. Give it its rightful justice by trying many different paths towards it. Trying just one path or one way and called it quit, seem inconclusive.

It is time to start again, with experienced, so we can heal what didn't work out, so we can become more secure in our decision. So we can trust our decision again. We can alway trust our decision, even when it lead us where we didn't want to go. But it will alway lead us where we needed to be. Expand our usual path and see if we can get to our goal a different way. Get yourself to a place where, 'it's okay if it happened and it's okay if it doesn't happen'. The outcome doesn't affect my sense of self. Don't give up on your dreams even if it doesn't work, this time. It just mean you are giving another chance to do it again, differently.

Affirmations: "I am brave enough to do what I need to do. I believe in myself. I can do it."

"I am strong enough and will be okay with the outcome"

Signs: 34, SWORDS, Ginger, Ranunculus, snail

Song: AM I DREAMING by Lil NAS x Miley Cyrus

Every song Every dream filled with hell from beyond As I'm sinkin', I relive the story Every try Every breakthrough and every cry As I'm sinkin', I relive the story

🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫 You Are Loved 🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫

Pile 3🍉 - “Let It Go / Dandelion” by @cant-find-my-name

Let it go, Dandelion with the wind

Don't let the failures

Tattooed on your skin

Cause nothing is ever worth your

Peace

Even if it is war

Even if it didn't work out

Now you know

You deserve so much more,

Rejection isn't a destination

It is part of this journey

Giving in doesn't mean giving up

The most important lesson in life is

Knowing when

Enough is enough

Meaning:

This poem is about accepting 'failures' or things that didn't work out, such as a relationship, a goals, a destination. We all have things that we planned or things that we expected it to be. Like I entered into a business partnership and I expected it to be going well. It is important to focus on the positive side of thing but when it didn't work out like how you hope, which it will alway happened, can you accept it?. Most people find it easy to accept success but find it difficult to accept failures. Which is understandable, however, that won't do because success and failures goes hand in hands and things that didn't work out is part of life or should be part of normal life not an end all be all situation.

This poem is also about giving up. Not in a ‘give up on life' kind of energy buy more of surrendering the outcome to the Divine. If and when you tried your best and it didn't go your way or even when it did, the outcome you want doesn’t serve you anymore. It is alright to give up, it is alright to quit. To change our mind. To change our mind is not alway equating failure. It just mean the things we're going for is no longer in alignment with us anymore. Such as, changing your major halfway through college, changed career path, your goals, your values, your style, etc. These things within us are ever changing. This poem summarisation is that things are ever changing and that it is OKAY. We need to know when enough is enough, with ourself, our goals, our life.

The Messages:

Keep going as you are. Do not stop. Keep your momentum because you will get to where you are headed. Even if it by fears or desperation or anxiety. Still, take your step by step. Concentrated on the positive, what worked out for you not what didn't. You will have a choice to make in regards to your stability and security. In a way, that is what you're going towards. A place where you can make a choice. To be able to choose is a privilege. To be able to choose is empowering. A position where a limited mindset could never be in. 'There's no choice or it is how it is', you know that's not true. That's limited mindset. You alway know that everyone have a choice, they just choose not to have one and blame external circumstances. But when you're in your power and honour yourself, the most empowering choice would be, choosing yourself. Most won't do it, because it's too much to take. But despite your hesitant Pile 3, you are asked to choose yourself and keep going. Start choosing yourself and never stop, because one day, you will reach that inner security you're alway craving. It isn't in any external things, money, status, groups, but within us, there's a voice that have never been heard because we never listen. But once you do, they are not stopping you Pile 3, whoever you're looking for to guide the way, that person is YOU. Repeat the affirmation to yourself Pile 3, "you are not a failure. You are talented, capable, strong and are going places."

Affirmation: "I am capable, I am talented, I am a gift"

Signs : 248, 24, Horses, Twin, Baby, Greek Goddess, Red Rose

Song: You're on your own, kids by Taylor Swift

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this I hosted parties and starved my body Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money My friends from home don't know what to say I looked around in a blood-soaked gown And I saw something they can't take away

'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned Everything you lose is a step you take So make the friendship bracelets Take the moment and taste it You've got no reason to be afraid

🐋 ��� ☁️ 🫧 💫 You Are Loved 🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫

Pile 4⭐️- ‘Safe Blanket’ by @cant-find-my-name

The world seem to be against

Me

But you whispered in my ears

'That's not true, why don't you look closely'

Stop telling yourself lies

The sky only bring you calm

The trees evokes your peace

The stars shared your longing,

Curious eyes filled with

Mystery,

The world is here for you

If only you let yourself be

And let yourself see

The Meaning :

This poem is about not being negatively bias because human tends to do that. We tend to look for the flaws first, for things that didn't work out. For things that we don't have, for things that's wrong. It's natural to do that but again, Negatively bias brain. Because in reality, it is not as bad as it seem. This poem is to act as a reminder that the Universe is working for me, not against me. There are tree, ocean, sky, beautiful nature all around. As long as you live on this earth and respect it, it will do the same. You are not targeted, you are not the only one feeling pain, no one is out to get you. The tree will only give you peace if only you let it. We must opened our eyes and our heart to truly appreciate earth's beauty. Our first Mother will alway be Mother Earth, Mother Gaia and we are her children. Mother earth is our home and where ever you go , there are nature, and where there are nature, then that is also your home. This poem remind us that we belonged in nature, within this earth. If when ever you feel unsafe, ungrounded, alway look for the tree, go towards nature because she is alway there for you.

The Messages:

Success is yours Pile4 , what ever success means to you. It is your birthright to shine in this world. Victory in life is your birthright. So rest, let the worries, the what's if? the doubts go. Let it flow down the drain and let us bath in this world divinity. Let the world carries you towards where you aim to go, to your destination. Anything you wish for will be aided by the Universe.You know Pile 4, that you are very lucky, very privilege in this life. You are in a position people would envied. People see you and goes 'that person got the best end of the stick in life’. And acknowledge that but in a way, it's because you alway believed that the Universe is working for you and never against you. You rest assured that The Universe alway have your back. And when you believe in something like that, there's nothing in life you can't do. You don't limit yourself to what you can or cannot do. You don't limit yourself to what you can or cannot have. To who you can and cannot be. “The world is against me...." is just an excuse and a lie.This poem helped you see that you got the biggest allied at your side. So go through life knowing you are loved and supported. Cause you are. Go through life rest in the knowing that you are okay or you alway will be okay and you are not alone on your journey.

Affirmation: "I release limiting beliefs and empowered myself to achieve more."

Signs: 77, leaves, horse, Yellow house, Gold

Songs: The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

Tell me once again I could have been anyone, anyone else Before you made the choice for me My feet knew the path We walked in the dark, in the dark I never gave a single thought to where it might lead

🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫 You Are Loved 🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫

Thank you so much for reading!. Please let me know what you think. See you soon!

🌈Donate Paypal: https://paypal.me/Poemnic

☀️Check out @cant-find-my-name for more of my original poetry

🍉Check out my YouTube channel for more Pick-A-Card!! : PoemNic-Tarot

🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫 You Are Loved 🐋 🦢 ☁️ 🫧 💫

[fumifooms]

Out of Touch, Out of Time

You say too late to start got your heart in a headlock I don’t believe any of it

Chilchuck Tims x Marcille Donato Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui

Art: Ryoko Kui. Edits: @pupucachi (source). All songs are in my marchil Spotify playlist as well, check it out if you want!

^ (text) opening quote: Headlock, Imogen Heap. Pictures: 1: TrusT, half-alive / 2: Spring, Chemical Club / 3: Dead Inside, Younger Hunger / 4: Chocolate Matter, Sweet Trip / 5: Talk to Me, Cavetown / 6: From Eden, Hozier / 7: Help I'm alive, Metric / 8: Know How, The Crane Wives / 9: Jackrabbit, San Fermin / 10: Another Love, Tom Odell / 11: Curses, The Crane Wives / 12: Keep You Safe, The Crane Wives / Picture of side profiles of Marcille and Chilchuck / 13: Like the Dawn, The Oh Hellos / 14: Only Our Love, Tamino / 15: Running with the Wolves, Aurora / 16: Tarantula, Gorillaz / 17: New Discovery, The Crane Wives / 18: Northern Star, Dom Fera / 19: Monster, Adventure Time : Distant Lands / 20: TrusT, half-alive / 21: Cabo, Ricky Montgomery / 22: No Choir, Florence andthe Machine / 23: Circles, Passenger / 24: Monster, Adventure Time : Distant Lands / 25: North, Sleeping at Last / 26: My Heart is Buried in Venice, Ricky Montgomery / 27: Not I, I Fight Dragons / 28: Spring, Chemical Club v (text) parting quote 1: Enter One, Sol Seppy / Parting quote 2: Je te laisserai des mots, Patrick Watson

After a storm I wanna let go Of the things that I've done Without any worry I wanna come home Into the light Into the unknown I want to be shameless Like the sun

I’ll leave you words Underneath your door Underneath the singing moon Near the place where your feet pass by Hidden in the holes of wintertime And when you’re alone for a moment Kiss me Whenever you want Kiss me Whenever you want Kiss me Whenever you want

[absolutebl]

Random ask game asks

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

What's one thing that's stereotypical about you?

I have the remnants of a british accent + I drink tea. 

Play any instruments? 

Piano, badly 

A music artist everyone criticizes that you like: 

Last show you watched: 

Last movie you watched

Senior Love Me? 

Last song you listened to

The Arc - The Light 

Last book you read

Old Fashion Cupcake manga 

Your top five most listened to artists this month on Spotify

Stray Kids

BTOB

Young K & Day 6

Kang Daniel

TRENDZ

Ever drank alcohol?

Every Friday and it’s Be My Favorite’s Fault 

Every smoked anything?

Fish, mostly 

Do you prefer to eat-in or take-out?

Both 

If you could time travel what decade would you go to first

Am I invisible or do I look the way I do now? If #1 then the past, if #2 then the future. 

An actor everyone loves that you don't like for whatever reason

Speak any other languages?

4 none of them well, including my ostensible original 

Have any tattoos? Want any tattoos?

no

Have any piercings? Want any piercings?

yes

Do you prefer the hot or cold weather?

cold 

Cats or dogs? Or some other pet?

none but those owned by others tend to adopt me (the house has a cat and he think’s i’m his)  

Trendy over comfortable or comfortable over trendy?

trendy and comfortable, why choose? 

Say one thing bad about something you love

the singing is terrible and the acting is usually pretty crap too

Do you prefer to read digitally or from a physical book?

digital 

Do you put milk in your hot tea?

yes 

Do you know how to play any popular gambling games?

no

A character you relate to for whatever reason?

A quote (from anything) you really love

How many pairs of shoes do you have

maybe 10? 

Do you have trouble saying any words because of your accent/speech problems?

no, i’m good at words and public speaking 

Earbuds or headphones?

buds 

Showers or baths?

Early bird or night owl?

insomniac 

Candles or scented spray?

fresh flowers 

How often do you change your clothes?

as often as is necessary 

Chess or checkers?

all board games bore me 

Something you can do that you think is cool?

Perfume or body spray?

body oil 

What's something that genuinely scares you

other people’s unhinged obsession 

LED lights, the room light, or sunlight?

diffuse natural light 

What's something you do differently than everyone else?

peel and chop fruit 

If you have hair how often do you style it in some way?

spiky if i bother at all 

Nail polish, press on nails, or acrylic nails?

short and tidy but nothing else 

Do you have any fidget toys? If so what's your favorite?

 I learned to sit still or get whacked, and i’m fine with the outcome 

Do you drive?

yes 

Your go-to genre of music?

Are you a good multitasker?

no one is a good multitasker 

Silence or background noise?

kpop 

A famous movie/show that you've never seen

i don’t know i haven’t seen it 

Any sport you would like to play?

i don’t like sweating with other people around... 

actually, i don’t like sweating at all 

Can you write in cursive?

yes & calligraphy 

Is your handwriting neat or at least easy to read?

yes very 

Colored pencils, markers, or crayons?

black 

How many pillows do you sleep with?

2 

How many blankets do you sleep with?

3 (if the top sheet counts, ALWAYS top sheet) 

Do you ever plan to get married one day?

fuck no 

Do you ever plan to have kid(s) one day?

fuck no 

Do you subscribe to any religion?

fuck no 

Something in your room that you think is funny for whatever reason

the hotel room i am in right now has a teacup the size of my head painted with parrots and I have no idea why. 

Would you rather be an actor, singer, comedian, or would you do something on YouTube/twitch/some other site

i would rather gouge out my own eyeball than be a celebrity of any kind 

Are you scared of the dentist?

not at all, my dental hygiene is fucking amazing, they often get mad at me for wasting their time 

(before you ask: good genetics + fucking flossing = the answer, just floss while watching your favorite bl, it’s not goodamn rocket science, take care of your teeth you slackwits) 

Do you wear makeup?

sometimes 

If you could be any character of the opposite sex, who would you be?

i already am 

In the literal sense, are you an introvert or extrovert?

both 

What's something in your room that makes no sense without context

aside from that dumb teacup, i don’t know, i’m not in my room, i’m rarely in my room 

Favorite subject in school?

If you could visit any place in the world where would you go?

right now, i wanna get to taiwan before it isn’t anymore 

A show/movie thats been on your watchlist forever but you for some reason keep putting off

Is the name you use online your real name? (Real name does not mean deadname)

never 

Do you have a favorite sibling?

If you were to have a kid what names would you have in mind?

no fucking children, not mine, not anyone else’s, i am not interested, yours is NOT the cutest nor the smartest (trust me) and i don’t want to hear about them 

Do you think things like anniversaries are a big deal?

no

Mobile games or PC/console games?

no games 

Do you believe in things like ghosts?

no

Long sleeve + shorts or short sleeve + pants

depends on the weather and culture 

Can you do any voice impressions?

no 

What was the first fandom you were genuinely into

star trek 

Do you prefer womens or mens products?

depends on the smell, price, and effectiveness  

would you be fine having your partner completely provide for you?

never 

Plain clothes or vibrant and eye catching clothes?

neither, i’m usually just stylish and quirky 

Movie date or restaurant date?

food 

Do you split the check or expect only one of you to be paying it?

split or I’ll pay if my friend isn’t holding 

Favorite fast food place?

i’d rather not 

How do you make your coffee?

in italy 

Do you pay attention to the music or the lyrics more?

music 

Are you more energetic or tame?

energetic 

Are you witty?

only by accident  

A show everyone criticizes that you like

[glubsurleseuil]

Don't be scared - Chapter 2

A Pennywise X F!Reader fanfic. This is Chapter 2. Chapter 1 is here.

Chapter warnings: Violence, blood, discreet mention of a desire to die. It's just the beginning, it's about to get worse.

(Note: It was translated by Deepl, English is not my mother tongue, so I apologise for any mistakes. If you want to correct me, don't hesitate!)

(Note 2: I found the gif at @pennydaddywise)

(Note 3: The "lyrics" of the song are actually quotes from Mr Stephen King.)

It was a difficult night. First, when you arrived home, your body's first reflex was to throw up in the toilet. Then your brain's reflex was to search your apartment from top to bottom to make sure no one was home. Then, finally, you curled up in a ball on your bed, scared out of your wits, unable to sleep. Every minute, you checked your phone, not wanting to believe that the clown's damn message had disappeared. You'd searched your whole phone but couldn't find it. And you hated for most of the night the incredible capacity of the human survival instinct to try and make you believe that all these strange and terrifying events never really happened. Finally, you fell asleep convinced that no, you're not crazy.

Of course, like every night for some time, you had a dream. But not the same one this time. This one was just as hazy and incomprehensible, but less terrifying, and you woke up more peacefully. It made you remember the clown's message: Don't be scared... You laughed nervously, shivers running through your body just thinking about your adventure the day before.

The day had gone by too fast for your liking, and you'd been unable to concentrate on anything, that damn clown haunting your mind at every turn. Then it was finally time for work.

It was a quiet evening, without too many customers. These evenings are often pleasant to spend, but this evening in particular, you could take advantage of it and go home early. The very idea of not seeing the sun when you leave the bar terrifies you.

"Are you sure? There's no one on stage tonight. You can sing if you want."

Your boss suggests you go on stage when there's no one there. You love these moments. Singing and playing on stage is the only time you feel your life isn't miserable. But singing tonight means coming home later, when it's dark... Fuck.

You can't refuse. These moments are too rare. You get up on stage and take advantage of this moment to forget everything, your rotten life, the sadness, the anguish... The clown...

Monsters are real, And ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.

Your voice trembles slightly and you close your eyes to concentrate.

God is cruel. Sometimes he makes you live. The devil's voice is sweet to hear.

At the end of your song, the few remaining customers applaud. You hate that noise. It reminds you of harsh reality.

Finally, the bar closes and you leave through the back door. The cool silence of the night reminds you of the horrors of life and you look down the dark, empty alley. The lights are still malfunctioning, and there's a large section of the alleyway plunged into darkness. Obviously...

You reassure yourself that you don't have to go into the forest this time. Phone in hand, you make your way down the alley, lighting every nook and cranny, and you're soon relieved to see that there's nothing and no one there.

You move forward, a little more reassured, towards the exit, towards the light. And as you put your phone back in your bag, something touches your back. It's light and it bounces against you. You turn around slowly, cautiously, holding your breath...

A balloon? A balloon. Red, floating in the middle of the path, alone. The first thing it brings to mind is your dream from last night. Yes, there was a red balloon in it, which you grabbed and flew high into the sky...

Looking at it more closely, you see a piece of paper hanging from its string, wriggling like a hanged man. You untie it and unfold it. On it, in ink as red as blood, a message.

DON'T BE SCARED

You swallow your saliva as thick as sand and your whole body shakes with tremors, preparing to run. But as you turn to leave the alley, two gloved hands grab you, one by the nape of the neck, pulling your hair as you go, the other by the mouth, pressing down hard enough that you can't scream. And you find yourself facing those predatory golden eyes, one of whose pupils squints outwards. A multitude of gleaming, pointed teeth, dripping with slime, smiles at you, just inches from your face.

Faced with such an apparition, your first instinct is to punch the face you recognize as the clown's, but you instantly regret it. True, the grip of his hands has loosened, but you note with horror that his features have deformed where you struck him, his uneven teeth protruding from his mouth in an excruciatingly inhuman way. Blood is dripping from his lip... floating upwards would be more accurate.

You push him back hard and turn to flee, knowing full well it's no use. He grabs you by the arm and pushes you violently back against the alley wall. You grit your teeth as you feel your back and the back of your skull crash against the hard surface. With one hand, he grips your neck and lifts you to his full height. No matter how hard you pull on his arm, you're unable to free yourself and breathing becomes difficult. The clown brings his face close to yours like an enraged predator.

"I said... don't be scared!!!"

He finishes his sentence by slamming you back against the wall. You close your eyes in pain, your head begins to spin and you no longer feel strong enough to push him away. All you can do is watch him rage at you, hoping it's just another nightmare.

"You don't want to live, I know it! Then why are you afraid? Stupid, ridiculous humans... This fear... So beautiful, so appetizing. How am I supposed to resist this?!"

The clown hits you once more, more brutally. This is too much. As your arms fall unconscious to your sides, you faint under his fingers and everything goes black. The last thing you hear is the clown swearing to himself.

When you open your eyes, you're unable to understand where you are. An old-fashioned smell of mildew assails your nostrils and you see dust flying in the dim light of the room. You realize you're lying on something soft, covered. Probably a mattress on the floor. Soon, the pain in the back of your skull reawakens. You run your hand through your hair to find dried blood tangled in your locks.

You sit up abruptly, the events before you fainted coming back to you in an unbearable headache, and a question forces you to hold your breath. What else has this clown... this thing... done to you? Trembling, your hand raises the old grey blanket over your legs and you begin to inspect yourself... Nothing. At first glance, anyway. Everything suggests that he's just put you down there, nothing more. You breathe again.

Your gaze finally settles around you: you find yourself in an empty room, apart from the mattress you're lying on. The light is diffused, so unnatural that you want to define it as dark, even if that doesn't make sense. The windows are so dirty that you can't tell if it's still night. You have no idea what time it is or how long it's been since the clown attack.

You suddenly see your shoes tossed haphazardly around the room, as well as your bag. That's all it takes for you to rush out of the mattress and rummage through it, your phone being your goal. But you panic when you realize it's buggy. It doesn't look particularly broken though, it simply refuses to work, the screen displaying bizarre glitches and... The message the clown marked last time, in the forest. You throw your phone to the ground in anguished annoyance.

Close your eyes. Inhale. exhale. You've got to get out of here. A hint of determination returning, you pick up your phone, your bag and put on your shoes. Passing as quietly as possible through the first doors you come to, you arrive in a corridor with a staircase leading down a few meters from you. You descend carefully, the steps creaking beneath your feet. But there's no sign of the clown, and the door opposite the steps seems to be the entrance door. You suddenly have the foolish hope of getting out of here without any trouble.

You approach slowly, your hand sliding noiselessly over the handle of the closed door. You turn it slowly... but nothing happens. You pull, you push, quietly at first, then louder and louder, suddenly panic-stricken. But nothing happens. The door doesn't move. It doesn't move at all. As if it were an optical illusion painted on the wall. A groan of despair escapes and you hold back your tears. Inhale. Exhale. All is not lost, there are always the windows.

They're as dirty and dimly lit as those upstairs, plunging the house into an atmosphere of eternal twilight. Some are boarded up, but not all. In a room that looks like a living room, you work hard on one of them, but get the same result as with the door. In a fit of anger, you end up banging on what's supposed to be the glass, even throwing a stool lying around, in vain.

A few seconds pass before a cry of rage comes from your mouth. And you knew that all the noise you'd made would attract the clown. A weak but piercing laugh pushes you to turn towards the entrance to the room. There he is, leaning against the wall, mocking you without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"Silly, silly little human. Thinking you can escape from my house. So stupid, so angry..."

He pauses, and you can see his mocking smile break down, giving way to annoyance, his features turning stern.

"...So scared... again..."

You step back as he moves closer to you. You'd have thought his eyes were blue a second ago... You quickly bend down to grab the stool you threw at the window, tossing it at the clown to distract him and get around him, running towards the living room exit. You already knew it wouldn't work and you're not surprised to feel him propel you to the floor. He barely gives you time to turn around before pinning you down on your back. Your eyes see his face blurred by tears, while you feel warm drool running down your shirt. Above you, the clown shakes frantically, as if arguing with himself about what to do with you.

"Fear... so delicious... Maybe I should... eat you.... No! Or maybe... just a little...?"

He shakes his head like an animal shredding a piece of meat, and the comparison terrifies you.

"No. No! You are..."

His gloved hand caresses your face with a gentleness that makes you sob. Your eyes close tightly, as if that's enough to make you forget everything that's going on.

"...perfect. I need you."

You feel the clown's breath coming closer and your eyes reopen in panic. You can see his lips curling over his sharp teeth, many more of them. Your brain refuses to believe what it's seeing and you start laughing nervously.

"Don't. Be. Scared."

It's an order and he emphasizes it by snapping his teeth together in a jaw-clenching sound that echoes in your head. At this point, he lets go and walks away, leaving you alone on the floor with your migraine, covered in drool. All you hear is the echo of your own delirious laughter, resonating in your eardrums as if it belonged to someone else.