#Post WWII AU

[absurdthirst]

An American in Paris {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: Mentions of war/missing limbs, flirting, innuendo, oral sex(female receiving), body image issues, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, miscommunication, secrets revealed, angst, making up, happing endings

Comments: When you escape your family's expectations by fleeing to Paris, you meet an ex-pat named Ezra who stayed after the war. Touring the city with him, you fall in love until your past catches up to you.

A/N: Post WWII AU - set 10 years after war, mentions of finishing school but no mentions of skin tone or hair texture

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Ezra (Prospect) MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here

Paris. The sounds of hammers and grunts of men working mingle with the hustle and bustle of the city. The sight and air of restoration and recovery nearly compete after the devastation of the war. There wasn’t as much as in some of the countryside, where the worst of the fight took place. Still, the scars of brutality of men can be seen on the roads and buildings, much like they can be seen when glancing at Ezra.

Finding comfort in the sounds and lights, he walks down the streets where he had once patrolled with a gun. No longer wearing the uniform of his former country, his now ex-pat status in this country is accepted since he can fluently speak the language. Almost feeling more at home here than he ever had in Tensa Parish, feeling a little morbid about returning to the city that had claimed his youth to the horrors of war, and his arm in battle. Over his shoulder, a bag contains the makings for a lovely, simple meal, and a bottle of wine to take the edge off the phantom pains that plague him from time to time, but it’s been nearly ten years since the war and he has gotten accustomed to dealing with the issues that come from losing his right arm. 

You glance up at the building, suitcase in hand, and sigh as you try to speak to the building owner in French. Your finishing school classes allowed you to speak well enough to get by but the owner doesn’t seem to understand you are his new tenant. A man approaches, a bag slung over his shoulder and the owner’s eyes widen. 

“Ah Ezra!” The man proceeds to rattle off French words faster than you can understand them and the man hums, nodding his head. 

He turns to you and tilts his head, “American?” He asks and you nod, “yes. From Boston. I just got here. I’m renting 302 and he doesn’t understand that I am the new tenant.” You explain and Ezra nods, turning towards the owner to explain who you are and Louis finally goes “ahhh.” 

He opens the door behind him and reaches for your other suitcases, helping you into the building. “Thank you so much. I’m not sure how I can repay you.” You tell Ezra but he shakes his head. 

“My pleasure, chérie.” He says and wishes he could assist with your luggage but he doesn’t have a free hand. You’re guided to 302 and Ezra follows, standing outside 301. “It appears we are to be neighbors.” Ezra says softly as Louis unlocks your front door and sets your suitcases down. 

“Then I must cook you dinner to repay you for your assistance.” You tell him and your eyes drift down to the hanging arm of his jacket, noticing his missing arm. You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on his handsome face.

Ezra notices your glance at his arm, or lack of one, and slides into a self deprecating grin of amusement. “Couldn’t pay my rent, one month.” He jokes. “Louis is a man who takes his pound of flesh.”

You giggle at his joke as Louis shifts to grab your key off of his heavy ring of keys. “I’ll be sure to pay my rent on time to avoid suffering the same fate.” You joke softly, “but I insist on dinner one night.” You tell him, wanting to make sure you know your neighbor in this new life you’re creating for yourself. 

Ezra nods, “very well, chérie. I shall inquire once you’ve settled into your new abode.” Ezra says and you offer him a smile. 

“Merci.” You tell Louis who nods and you step into your new apartment. 

“Another American.” Louis says to Ezra after you’ve shut the front door to 302. “And a pretty one at that. If you don’t go to dinner, then I will.” Louis winks and makes his way downstairs. Ezra chuckles, shaking his head at the sneaky old man. 

****

It’s been a few days since you arrived in Paris and you’ve spent that time organizing your new apartment. It needed some cleaning and you have ventured out to buy groceries. You are struggling with the bags up the stairs when you see Ezra again. “Let me assist you, ma’am. Well, as best as I can.” Ezra reaches for one bag and you thank him. 

“Anything helps. I am not used to the stairs just yet.” You admit and start to ascend the steps.

“One of the many benefits of living in Paris is the exercise you will become accustomed to.” Ezra follows you up the stairs respectfully keeping his eyes off your ass. Though he does get a few glimpses of your silky slip. You are a gorgeous little bird. No doubt about that, but he is sure you are not looking for a man like him to be eyeing you.

“I am sure I’ll be whizzing up and down these stairs soon enough. The cobblestones and my heels…now that’s a different story.” You chuckle, sighing in relief when you make it to the third floor. Ezra follows you to your door and you set the bags down as you reach into your purse for your key. “I appreciate your assistance, Ezra. For the second time. I really do owe you a dinner now. I have enough food. If you do not have plans, would you like to join me for dinner this evening?” You ask him, biting your lip as he sets the bag down next to your feet.

Your eyes are bright and almost pleading with him to accept your invitation. He wonders if you are lonely since he has not heard anyone knock on your door since you have moved in. “Only if you will permit me to bring the libations for this evening?” He asks, offering a small smile. “I know the most delightful champagne that will make you feel as if you are as light as a bird.”

Your answering grin makes his heart thump, unbeknownst to you, and you nod your agreement. “Very well. Champagne and I shall cook. See you at seven?” You ask and he nods. “Excellent.” You turn to unlock your door, “see you at seven, Mr. Ezra.” You smile and bend down to pick up your bags. “Don’t be late.” You warn playfully, stepping into your apartment. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He promises and you shut the door behind you. 

****

“Shit.” You hiss to yourself as the water boils over. It’s been hard to cook on a stove you aren’t familiar with and you struggle to make sure everything is ready as there’s a knock on the door. You sigh, rushing over to the mirror to check your appearance and you struggle to remove the apron around your waist before you compose yourself and open the door to Ezra. 

“Good evening, chérie.” He smiles and you can’t help but smile back, “come in.” You insist and step aside for him.

Stepping into the apartment, Ezra smiles at the way your own balcony doors are thrown open like his. “Dinner smells delectable, little bird.” He turns around with the champagne bottle tucked j def his arm. “Shall you show me the ice box to stow this in, or shall we open it now?” He doesn’t know how much longer you have for dinner to be ready or if you would rather wait to have the bubbly with the meal.

“Let’s open it now.” You tell him, “dinner is nearly ready. I just need to mash the potatoes.” You walk over to the cabinet to take out two of the four glasses that came with this apartment. “Not exactly ideal for champagne but it will have to do.” You tell him, setting the short glasses down on the table. 

“It all tastes the same.” He winks and manages to take the foil off of the bottle. You want to ask if he needs help but he tucks the bottle under his arm and twists his hand, popping the cork and you are surprised at how agile he is. He pours two glasses and you take the glass he holds out towards you. 

“A toast to two Americans in Paris?” You ask and he nods, “two Americans in Paris. Let us find what we are looking for in these cobbled streets.” He toasts and you clink your glass against his. 

Taking a sip, you hum in surprise at how delicious the champagne is. “So what brought you to Paris?” You ask him, curiosity getting the better of you.

He had known you would ask. It’s natural to be curious, just like he is curious of you. Setting his drink down, his hand unconsciously reaches for his missing limb, grasping the small nub that is left where his shirt is neatly pinned up. “I was here in the war.” He explains, his voice low and reflective. “I am sure you are much too innocent to remember the horrors.” You have to be in your early - maybe mid - twenties, just experiencing your first burst of freedom. “I came back two years later, feeling more at home here than where I am from.”

You aren’t surprised. Back home, a lot of men came back with injuries. Physical or mental. They were never the same so you can understand why he wanted to leave. “You’re from…Louisiana?” You ask, figuring out his accent, and he nods, “born and raised.” You smile, “that explains the accent. I like it. It’s smooth. Like whiskey.” You compliment him and take another sip of the champagne.

“What’s your story, little bird?” Ezra wants to change the subject, his heart aching at all the other information that you would have no interest in. “I must confess that I was surprised to find you alone with no chaperone, though times are changing.”

“Times are changing.” You echo, setting your glass down so you can drain the potatoes to mash them. “I - I wanted to escape.” You answer honestly, “to explore and find myself. All my life…I’ve been what my parents wanted me to be. I attended finishing school in London and after returning to Boston, I found that I didn’t belong there anymore. I decided to come to Paris, explore myself and this beautiful city. My parents weren’t happy but I had to grow up.” You confess and turn around to finish cooking the dinner.

He senses that there is more to your story but he doesn’t push. Knowing that he is just a stranger and not a confidant. “You have chosen a wondrous time to come, little bird. Paris at night is magnificent. Have you gone out to explore the city so far?”

“Not yet.” You admit, “I find myself falling asleep while reading guide books and I suppose I need to summon the courage to get out there and explore. The museums, especially. The Eiffel Tower. The Arc de Triomphe. There’s so much to see.” You confess and mash the potatoes.

“If you would permit me,” Ezra hums, biting his lip before he continues. “I could extend my own presence as a makeshift guide? I have spent extensive hours roaming this fair city and speak fluently.” He smiles. “I can give you the experience you wish, if you can bear my poor company for extended periods of time.”

You plate up the meal and smile to yourself as you turn back towards him to set his dinner down in front of him. “I will certainly take you up on that offer, Ezra. I wish to see the real Paris. The tourist things too, but I want to know the true Paris. It’s people. It’s food. The secret places.” You confess, setting your own plate down and you sit down.

“It’s food is delicious and the people are not as unfriendly as some would claim.” He wishes he could help you, offer a hand, but he offers a toast. “To Paris being exactly what you want.”

You clink your glass with his, a smile on your face. “To Paris being exactly what we want.” You correct and he hums, taking a sip of champagne. “Please, dig in. I’m not the best cook, but chicken and mashed potatoes, I can do.” You tell him, picking up your knife and fork.

“Cherie, it is a meal that I did not have to labor over myself.” Ezra reminds you. “It will taste like the most delicate foie gras I have ever sampled.” The use of a fork and knife at the same time is impossible, but instead of asking you to cut up his food, Ezra picks up his knife to attempt to cut the chicken without pushing food around too badly.

You bite your lip as you watch him try to cut into the chicken. You decide to help and you haven’t cut into your dinner yet so you move fast to cut up the chicken. Once it’s all cut, you reach out to swap your plate with his. Acting fast once again to cut up your own chicken and you set your knife down, just using your fork like he is.

“Thank you.” His voice is low, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you needed to cut up his meal as if he was still a child. He had come a long way in the last ten years but he still couldn’t do some things without a second hand. “I apologize for any grief that it might have caused.”

You tut, “don’t be silly. I can’t understand how difficult it is for you. It’s nothing for me to help.” You shake your head and start to eat using your fork. You want him to be comfortable in your home and he’s the only person you know in Paris.

Ezra’s smile turns onto you with simple pleasure. “You should not have feared about your cooking, little bird.” He assures you after the first bite. “It is divine to sample your culinary skills.”

You smile, pleased that he likes your cooking. “Thank you. Looks like I got something for that God awful finishing school I went to.” You chuckle softly and watch him enjoy the food. “I will have to cook for us more often. A balance between savoring the rich food of Paris and some home comforts. I make a mean fried chicken.” You tell him with a wink, enjoying his company despite harshly knowing much about him. “So how do you spend your days? Are you working?”

“I do not work.” Ezra admits, shrugging slightly. “My check from the military covers my expenses, although I do write poetry, badly might I add.” His words are wonderful, but he had yet to master writing left handed. “Sometimes I will deliver papers if I am bored or wish to have more money in my pockets. Or translate.”

You lean a little closer, “I should like to hear some of your poetry sometime.” You tell him, “and if you ever need someone to write for you, I am more than happy to volunteer my hand.” You say and fluster slightly when you realize how that sounds.

His thoughts are more than obscene as he imagines your soft looking hand wrapped around his cock. It would look much better than his own. “I will have to take you up on that.” He murmurs, enjoying the way your eyes flutter in embarrassment and you look down at your plate.

You clear your throat and scoop up some mashed potatoes. “Have you found love in the city of light?” You ask with slight curiosity. “Perhaps a beautiful French woman to occupy your days when you aren’t writing poetry.” You muse, your gaze flicking up to him.

“I fear that love has eluded me.” Ezra murmurs quietly. “Perhaps I am not looking in quite the correct spaces.” Your lip pulls between your teeth and he has the urge to bite it, then kiss away the sting. “Although perhaps a muse is right in front of me.”

You playfully glance behind you until you turn back to meet his dark gaze. “Me? I am no muse.” You assure him, “but perhaps we will discover one during our sightseeing. I- I am afraid I am of no use. I’ve never been in love.” You admit with a sigh, “my experiences would not assist you in your poetry.”

“Then perhaps I shall be granted the glorious privilege of witnessing your fall into the depths of amorous pleasure.” He smiles. “You are a beautiful woman and no doubt many men will court you. Wine and poetry, dancing and romance.”

You fluster again at him calling you a beautiful woman, ducking your head, “perhaps. We shall see.” You hum, picking up your glass of champagne and you admire him. He’s a handsome man, weathered like so many after enduring the war, but his eyes are sparkling and you know it would be easy to fall into their depths. He mentions other men when your current wish is for him to court you. “Shall we begin our exploration of Paris tomorrow? Unless you have other plans.” You add, not wanting to push yourself onto him if he is busy.

“I am at your disposal.” He nods his head and smirks when you fluster again. Wondering what could be going through your pretty head. “Whatever you wish to do.”

You hum, “I would like to go to the Louvre. There’s so many wonderful pieces. Pieces I’ve read about and I want to wander the halls and admire the beautiful art.” You admit, picking up your fork to finish your meal.

“It is a date.” Ezra hums. “I know of a charming cafe where we can have lunch if you would like to join me. Let me provide a meal for you, although my own cooking skills are non-existence.”

You nod, watching him finish his meal. “It’s a date.” You repeat, heart beating faster at the thought and you imagine walking along the Seine by his side, enjoying the city and his southern drawl. “Now…I got an apple tart for dessert. You fancy a slice?” You ask, standing up to take the empty plates.

“I must confess I am in possession of an enormous sweet tooth.” Ezra groans at the idea of a sweet dessert, and he loves apple tarts. “I would be honored to sample your tart, chérie.”

You giggle as you carry the plates over to the sink, working fast to cut a decent slice of tart for you and Ezra. “I picked it up from the patisserie down the street, I hope it’s good.” You tell him as you sit down and pick up the smaller fork you had set out. “I love sweet things too.” You confess with a smile.

“Then we will get along perfectly.” Ezra winks and groans at the sight of the tart. “It is delicious looking, little bird.” He promises.

You and Ezra enjoy dessert with comfortable silence and when it’s finished, you gather the plates to wash. “I best be leaving you to your peace. I’m certain you want to be with your thoughts after so long of hearing me wittering on.” Ezra says as he stands up from the table. 

“Absolutely not. You’re a great dinner guest. If you wish to leave, I shall see you tomorrow for our lunch and Louvre date.” You giggle and Ezra nods. 

“I’ll call for you around eleven.” He says and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for the delectable dinner, chérie. I will return the favor with a less deadly dinner cooked by a professional lest I am unable to cook.” He jokes and you grin, shaking your head as you escort him to your front door. 

“Sounds like a plan. Goodnight Ezra.” You say as you lean against the door frame. 

“Goodnight little bird.” He returns and steps into the hall. You watch him for a moment as he retreats to his apartment next door and then you close the door, leaning against it to close your eyes. You’ve never met anyone like Ezra. Certainly never met anyone who makes you feel like he does. After you wash up, you’ll pick out your outfit. You want to look good for Ezra, and hopefully he likes what he sees.

The next morning, Ezra takes great pains with his appearance. Waking up early, he decided to treat himself to a shave and a haircut from the barber down the street, knowing that he can often miss small patches of hair and he wants to be worthy of your presence. He dresses smart, his button down shirts slightly larger than fitted so he can slide them on without fiddling with the buttons. Once eleven comes, he steps out of his door with a small clutch of flowers he had impulsively purchased on the way back from the barber.

You inhale deeply, adjusting your dress for the umpteenth time, and you take a beat before you walk over to open the door to Ezra. "Good morning." You smile when you see him, his hair slicked back and freshly shaven. He looks handsome and your heart thumps in your chest. "You look handsome." You tell him, wanting him to know you appreciate the effort he's clearly put in. You hope he likes your efforts.

“Little bird,” Ezra slowly peruses your appearance, enjoying the way your hips sway slightly as you twirl around. “For the first time in my loquacious existence, you have rendered me speechless with your exquisite beauty.” He proses breathlessly. “While I must apologize for my own humble appearance, you would outshine the brightest star in the night’s sky.” He extends the flowers to you. “A humble offering to a veritable goddess.”

His words combined with the look in his eyes has you breathless, your jaw dropping slightly and your stomach twists. "I - you are a wonderful poet, Ezra. Truly, you've - no one has ever been so poetic about my appearance. Especially when I will be walking alongside such a handsome gentleman. Thank you, these are beautiful." You take the flowers, your fingers brushing his, and you bring them to your nose to sniff them. "I will put them in water and get my things." You smile, turning to walk towards the kitchen.

He’s proud that he could put such a look on your face, the quiet pride of a compliment. He believes it to be true however, you are a goddess and he is fortunate that you speak to him. Many beautiful women have uncomfortably avoided him, as if his loss of limb at the scar on his cheek were from accosting a woman. When you return he offers his one remaining limb. “Shall we?”

"We shall." You smile, taking his arm after you lock your front door, and you let him guide you down the stairs and out onto the bustling streets of Paris. Springtime in Paris is beautiful. The breeze, the flowers, it's incredible. "No wonder you wanted to return here. Paris is...unlike any place I have ever known. It has an aura around it that seems magical." You sigh.

Ezra chuckles, "clearly you have not been to Boulevard de Clichy." 

Your eyes widen, aware that the Moulin Rouge is there. "I wouldn't mind going there. To explore all of Paris." You say timidly, hoping he doesn't think you are scandalous.

Grinning, Ezra wishing he could pat your hand. “Then we shall have to make plans to go one evening.” He decides. “Dinner and dancing. Allow me to show you the more….jubilant side of the city.” He hums, imagining the wonder in your eyes. Would you be scandalized or enchanted with the display of eroticism? He feels the passionate side of you would be enchanted. “Perfectly respectable with an escort.”

You smile, pleased he isn't scandalized by your request. "That's a date." You squeeze his arm and he winks at you, making your heart stutter. You've never felt like this before, so smitten by a man so quickly. You know you must remain friends to preserve the only friendship you have managed to discover thus far in the city. 

"Here we are." Ezra declares when you arrive outside of the cafe, reluctantly letting go of your arm to greet the cafe owner. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur Ezra." The owner greets him and Ezra nods, unable to shake his hand. You are escorted to a small table in the window and Ezra uses his hand to pull your chair out. 

"Thank you." You smile as you sit down and take the menu.

“As you might have deduced, little bird, I am a frequent patron of this establishment.” He hums, nodding towards the menu. “Everything is splendid, although the quiche and Croque Monsieur are particular favorites of mine.”

You hum, “the quiche sounds good.” You look over the menu for a few more moments before you set it down. The waiter comes over and Ezra orders a glass of white wine, asking if you want the same and you agree. The waiter takes your order and you listen to Ezra order in perfect French and you fluster as you try your best to order. When the waiter leaves, you glance out of the window, admiring the Parisians leaving.

“Do not fret, little bird.” He assures you, watching as you turn your head to look at him again. “Your French is solid and you will only improve as you are immersed in the language.” He promises. “Often I do translations and I will assist you however I can.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I appreciate your help.” You say and release his hand when the wine glasses are set down in front of you. “To new friendships.” You toast, clinking your glass against his.

Ezra nods, smiling as he takes a sip of the wine he always enjoys. Somehow improved by your company. “So the Louvre today. I feel like we should be able to spend a lovely afternoon there.”

You nod, sipping the wine before you set it down. “Yes. I am excited. I studied art at finishing school so it will be wonderful to see so many famous pieces in real life. I am sure you’ve been before and are going to be utterly bored.” You joke, keeping your eyes on his.

“I assure you, every visit to the Louvre is special.” Ezra smiles. “But this visit might be the most special. The company is much better than my own.”

You fluster once more at his words, aware that you barely know the man but you can’t deny that he makes your stomach twist with desire. The food arrives and you start to eat, groaning at how delicious it is. “Oh my God. This place is a gem.” You tell Ezra after you swallow your first bite.

Your groan is sensual, almost erotic and Ezra’s cock twitches at the sound. He grins at you. “Do you see why I enjoy it so much, little bird?” He muses, picking up his own sandwich and taking a bite before setting it down to wipe his mouth. Just because he had one less arm does not mean he is lacking manners.

“Absolutely. I love it.” You promise, “it’s going to be a favorite of mine in days to come.” You assure him, taking another sip of your wine. After you’ve both polished off your delicious lunch, Ezra pays despite your protest. 

“You made dinner last night. It’s the least I could do.” He tells you and you nod, “fine but I’ll be making dinner again.” You promise and he nods, “and I’ll bring more champagne.” 

You stand up after he pays the bill. “That sounds like a fine deal to me.” You wink and take his arm as he guides you out onto the street.

The line for the Louvre isn’t incredibly long and soon the two of you are walking into the cool interior. The smell of the building always makes Ezra sigh. The scent of thousands of paintings and pieces giving the air a heady tone. “What shall we take in first, little bird?” He asks, curious to see where your interests will lead you.

You bite your lip, guiding him towards the nearest hallway, eager to see it all. “I want to see everything.” You tell him and he chuckles. You look up at the ceiling in awe of the paintings and the tapestry and you smile at Ezra. “This is incredible.” You exhale in amazement. “Thank you for coming with me.” You tell him as you start to admire the first piece of art.

“You are most welcomed.” Ezra watches you. Smiling as you get lost in the wonder of the museum. Lips parted as you gaze at the beauty in front of you, though he doesn’t even know what you are looking at. Too busy staring at his own version of art.

You don’t notice him staring at you as you admire the piece, in awe of the detail and you turn to finally catch him watching you and you reach up to pat down your hair. “Is there something on my face?” You ask, touching your cheek, feeling self conscious.

“Every hair is in place and your skin is as clear as a cloudless sky, chérie.” He assures you, smiling softly. “Forgive my lack of manners. I found your reaction to the art breathtaking.”

You fluster, shaking your head at his insanely generous compliments. “You flatter me too much, Mr. Ezra. I am a mere woman, not a goddess.” You reprimand him softly, “Now, let’s continue before I have no choice but to melt into the marble from your kind words.” You tell him and pat his hand, continuing to walk and admire the art.

“I am mistaken.” Ezra hums, his steps jaunty beside you and he grins when you cock your head in curiosity. “You are an angel, fallen from heaven to walk among us mere mortals.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “then you are the devil himself come to tempt me. With his perfect jaw and that gorgeous nose.” You compliment him, “come to shower me with flattery when it’s he who looks like Adonis.” You murmur, wanting him to feel just as flustered.

He preens, just every so slightly, at your compliments. Shaking his head and winking at you. “Adonis, huh?” He asks, smirking. “I can accept that. As long as my own fair observations are taken as the gospel truth. You know the devil was God’s perfect angel, until he wasn’t.”

You slap his hand playfully, “let’s agree to disagree.” You tell him and he hums, “very well. I am nothing but a gentleman.” 

His words still have your stomach twisting and you realize it feels like you’ve known Ezra for your entire life instead of one day. “And when the devil fell from heaven…he was temptation incarnate.” You add playfully.

“And what can I do to tempt you?” He teases, frowning slightly when he realizes how sordid he sounds. “Apologies, little bird,” he murmurs sincerely. “Please do not allow me to make you uncomfortable if I overstep.”

“Do not fret, you aren’t making me uncomfortable. In fact, I like it. I like our banter. As for tempting me…you’re already doing a fine job.” You assure him with a smirk, glancing at the piece of art you stop in front of, feeling his gaze burn into the side of your face.

Ezra hums, wondering what kind of temptation he’s providing. Since the war, his own companionship has been the occasional woman he has paid for a night between her thighs, not ashamed of that, but he knows that he is not a man most would look at as a potential partner. Especially after his return to the states.

You see his curious face and you giggle softly, “come on Ezra. Let’s continue. I want to see the Mona Lisa too.” You stroll through the museum, knowing you won’t be able to see it all but you want to see the pieces you’ve seen in books, that you’ve longed to see in person.

The two of you debate. A friendly conversation about pieces that you come across and observations that have you both in stitches as you continue into the museum and Ezra points out some of his favorite paintings. The hand tucked around his arm slowly morphs into your hand in his, allowing him to point as he brings up your hand with it. Standing in front of his favorite, ‘The Battle Between Love and Chastity’, he hums as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

Your heart thumps at his soft kiss and you offer him a soft smile. “Something you have experience with?” You joke softly and he winks at you, “perhaps.” You giggle and shake your head, looking back at the piece. You’re enjoying holding his hand and admiring the art beside him.

Ezra explains why he loves the piece in great detail, shrugging slightly at his impassioned he had become. “There is something about throwing away society’s expectations that I enjoy.” He tells you with a smile.

You smirk, “that I can already tell and I admire it. Being outside of the social norm. That’s what I wanted to escape. I didn’t want to conform or be a puppet.” You sigh, revealing slightly why you came to Paris. You squeeze his hand, “shall we continue?” You ask, clearing your throat when he starts to open his mouth, clearly wanting to ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“Of course, little bird.” You are not comfortable sharing and he would not dream of pushing you. Nodding, he guides you on to the next exhibit, simply enjoying being your escort.

You explore as much of the museum as you can, spending far too much time exploring the Louvre and soon you are back out on the bustling streets of Paris. “Thank you for today, truly. It’s been a day to remember.” You tell Ezra, squeezing his hand.

“I should be extending my gratitude to you, little bird.” Ezra protests, smiling at the way the low sun shines off your hair. “I cannot recall a more enjoyable or relaxing day.” He tucks your hand back around his elbow. “Perhaps we can reproduce the experience another time?”

“Absolutely.” You assure him, “I would be honored to be escorted around Paris by a handsome man.” You wink at him, “hardly a difficult thing to agree to. Next time though, lunch is on me.”

He shakes his head, knowing that you will argue with him if he insists he pay. “Then I will show you the best little cafes in Paris, you will be astounded with how much there is to offer in just our little neighborhood alone.”

“That sounds like a deal.” You smile at Ezra as he escorts you back to your apartment building. He’s charming and intelligent and you know it’s dangerous to feel this way so quickly but you can’t help it. He’s enchanting. “Today was incredible.” You sigh when you arrive outside of your door, “thank you for spending today with me.”

“The sublime pleasure was exceedingly mine, little bird.” Ezra reaches for your hand to kiss softly. His thumb rubs the skin before he presses his lips to it as he looks up at you. “Your beauty still surpasses all of the greatest works in the Louvre.”

Your heart pounds in your chest and you look at him, “you flatter me far too much.” You softly reprimand him, “especially when you are carved like the Greek statues.” You return his compliment and you love the way he ducks his head shyly.

“Perhaps by the profile with the hawkish nose.” Ezra chuckles. “Although my hair does curl when longer than its current styling.

“I’d like to see that sometime.” You tell him and you lower your hand from his, reaching into your purse to pull your keys out. “Thank you for today, Ezra.” You repeat and lean in to kiss his cheek, taking a beat until you lean back, turning to open your front door. “I’ll be inviting you to dinner again soon.” You warn him playfully, “you’ll be sick of me soon.” You joke, getting your door open and turning back to look at him.

“I am most dubious about that assertion, little bird.” Ezra nods and smiles at you. “May your evening be soft and luxurious.”

His words wash over you, calming you like a warm bath, and you offer him one last smile before you disappear into your apartment. He has wiggled his way into your mind and heart after a ridiculously short amount of time. You know it would be easy to fall in love with him. 

****

“Good evening Ezra.” You greet your neighbor when he opens the door  to your apartment and strides in. You’re at the stove finishing up dinner and he comes over to set the bottle of wine down on the counter. You’ve spent the past month getting to know the man and you’re in love. He’s smart, charming, and devastatingly attractive. It’s a combination that has you thinking of him nearly every moment of the day.

“Good evening, little bird.” Ezra smiles as he notices the glasses are already set out. “I will pour us a generous serving of wine and set the table if that is agreeable with you?” He has insisted that he help in some small ways since you are feeding him, never allowing him to help clean up.

You nod, “that sounds like a plan.” You turn back to the stove to stir the sauce, wanting him to enjoy this piece of home you’ve decided to cook for him. He works fast to set the table and soon enough, he’s sliding a glass of wine into your hand.

“It smells divine, chérie.” Ezra groans, leaning over to get a better whiff. “I must confess I will need to have the local tailor let out my trousers if you continue to feed me such scrumptious meals.”

You chuckle, “we can always walk more now that the evenings are lighter and the weather is better.” You compromise and he hums, “very well. We can indulge and then walk it off.” He winks and you sip your wine, setting the glass down before you bend over to check the meatloaf.

He can’t help but admire your shapely bottom as you lean over the little oven. Groaning quietly as the racy thoughts filter through his mind and he reminds himself that you are his friend and neighbor.

You stand up, unaware of his internal battle, and you get to work on the mashed potatoes. “Go take a seat. It won’t be long.” You promise and he nods, making his way over to the table with his glass of wine. It’s only another five minutes until you’re plating up the meal and Ezra groans as you set his plate down in front of him. After you’ve sat down with your own plate, you pick up your glass, “to home comforts.” You toast playfully, liking his answering grin as he clinks his glass against yours.

“I must commend you, chérie.” Ezra groans after just one bite of the meatloaf. “When we first met you claimed to be lacking in the culinary arts, yet every meal seems to be near ambrosia.”

You shake your head, “you flatter me far too much. Soon, I won’t be able to fit my head through the door.” You joke and he chuckles, “I am merely stating the truth.” You hum, chewing your first bite and after you swallow you say, “then I guess finishing school wasn’t the waste of money my parents think it was.” You half joke, knowing your parents must be furious at you for leaving without a word. “It’s nice to cook for you. I- I cook with passion instead of duty because I want you to enjoy it.”

“Passion instead of duty is always preferable.” Ezra acknowledges, tilting his head at mention of your parents yet again. You speak of them in a way that makes him believe that they are ashamed of you. “If you will give me your parents address, I will write a strongly worded letter telling them exactly how your finishing school has benefited and that you are a model lady.”

You smile sadly, “I appreciate that but I highly doubt they would believe you.” He chuckles softly, “I said strong worded, little bird. I can be quite convincing.” He assures you and you snort, remembering the time he convinced you to try escargot and you hated it. He had made it sound so delicious. 

“Yet you didn’t convince me to enjoy snails.” You retort and he chuckles, shaking his head, “touché.” You continue eating and once you’ve finished, you carry the dishes to the sink and Ezra stands, wanting to help you clean. “Leave them to soak. I want to go dancing tonight. You did promise to take me dancing.” You remind him with a playful nudge.

“If we are going dancing, little bird, you must change into your finest dress.” He hums, wanting to make you smile. “I will change into a suit better suited for escorting a lady as lovely as yourself.” He smirks at his words and winks at you again.

“Meet in twenty minutes so we can get freshened up.” You pat his shoulder and he nods, making his way out of your apartment to get ready. You rush around, changing into your finest dress. It’s bright red and hugs your curves, wanting him to be taken back by your appearance. You’ve known him for a month now and it’s hard to deny that you love him. You’re in love with him. He’s handsome but he’s so much more than that. He’s clever, funny, and he manages to make you feel like you’re walking on air. You fix your hair and makeup and grab your purse, heading to the door after you hear Ezra knock on it.

His hand shakes, pulling it back from the door so he can check his hair once again. He had checked in a charcoal gray suit with a red shirt and back vest. Slicked his hair back and dragged his razor over his jaw so that his skin is smooth, beside his mustache. The cologne was the finishing touch, and he hopes he is presentable for you.

You open the door to him, a wide smile on your face when you see him. “You look so handsome.” You coo, reaching up to caress his cheek, and he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it. 

“You look like Aphrodite herself. A true vision.” You fluster and squeeze his hand when he lowers it from his lips. “Shall we go?” He asks and you nod, turning to quickly lock your door, and he guides you down the hall and down the stairs, out onto the streets of Paris.

“Now chérie, I am going to take you to a club that is rather….risque.” He announces, grinning at you. “Is that agreeable? You will be perfectly safe, I assure you.”

You nod, “I came to Paris to experience life. I am most agreeable.” You promise and he guides you along the still bustling streets. “Where are we going Ezra?” You ask, curious now that you’re heading out of your normal walking paths.

“Folies Bergère.” Ezra chuckles. “There is also a dance floor after we are inspired by the cabaret dancers.” He wants to take you to a place that is famous and fun. One that you will remember your first experience. “We will drink champagne and dance the night away.”

It sounds like the perfect night and it is. When you arrive, you are escorted to a small table off to the side of the rows of seats and Ezra gestures for you to sit, immediately calling the waiter over to order champagne. “Now this truly feels like Paris.” You declare as you look around the ornate theater, in awe of its grandeur.

“Wait until the performance starts, chérie.” He hums, reaching for your hand as if it is second nature. “I know you are aware of the female form, but the act is nearly erotic in nature and I hope you enjoy it.”

You bite your lip, a little nervous to see what the show will bring and you sip the champagne after it’s poured and Ezra toasts to “new experiences.” You offer him a nervous smile and he winks at you since he’s holding his glass. The lights go down after everyone has taken their seats and you anxiously await the start of the show.

As soon as the music starts, Ezra turns towards you. Wanting to see your reaction as the scantily clad women rush out onto the stage and immediately break into a very perfectly choreographed dance. Every step is perfectly struck and position posed, fun and flirty, sexy and thrilling.

Your eyes widen as the women come onto the stage, starting their routine, and you’ve never seen anything like it. Back home, your parents would’ve had a heart attack at just seeing a woman wearing a dress that clung to her curves. This is beyond that and it’s thrilling. “Oh my God.” You grin, watching the dancers with delight. This is what you wanted, to see things you’ve never seen before.

You are entranced, bewitching to look at and Ezra happily falls under your spell. Watching the lights shine across your face when the spotlights move and your laughter and clapping is the music he hears. He’s fallen in love with you, completely and totally in love. “You’re gorgeous.” He blurts out, flushing slightly when the music is quiet and his proclamation was louder than intended.

There’s a moment where Ezra could have pulled back or rethought the idea that rushes through his mind. He doesn’t though. Caught up in the moment, he lunges forward and presses his lips to your urgently. As if he would expire if he did not sample your lips. Watching your eyes widen in surprise and then start to flutter closed as you moan quietly against his lips.

You reach up to cup his cheek, letting his lips press against yours while the music continues to play. When he pulls back after several moments, you smile and he nudges his nose against yours. "Ezra." You whisper so only he can hear with the music coming to an end and the crowd claps the dancers, making you pull back to look into those dark eyes.

By the time the show is over, Ezra feels tipsy. Not from the champagne, he is drunk on you. The feeling of knowing that his romantic feelings are reciprocated has him flying and he stands, still holding your hand and smiling down at you. “Chérie, would you permit me to escort you to the dance floor, where I might hold you closer than socially acceptable for the duration of as many songs as our feet can tolerate?”

You stand up, letting him guide you to the floor after you say “I’ll dance with you all night, my love.” You let him escort you to the floor where the band is playing and you inhale sharply when his arm pulls you close. You reach up to grip his shoulders, leaning on towards him until your forehead is pressed against his, as tight as you can get while the song plays.

“Little bird, I must confess something.” He whispers, swaying with you gently and wishing that he had his other arm so he could hold more of you. “I must admit that I have fallen for you. Hopelessly and desperately in love with you. With no possible end in sight.”

You giggle, almost drunk off of your emotions, and he leans back, hurt clear on his face but you quickly cup his cheeks, barely swaying as you force his eyes to meet yours. “I’m yours, Ezra. You have my heart, my soul, my body. I love you. Every part of me loves every part of you.” You vow. He’s told you the horrors he endured during his service and it didn’t change a thing.

He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand. “Perhap, when you are ready, we might….explore the art depicted in my favorite painting at the Louvre?” He ventures. He would never dream of pressuring you, but he aches to touch you, to caress your skin and lose himself in your body.

You shiver at the suggestion, your body lighting up at the mere thought of him touching you. You slide your hands down to his chest, “I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a while but there’s something you should know.” Your eyes flick up to meet his, “I have never…it’s - you’d be the first.”

Ezra’s breath catches and he stares into your eyes solemnly. “I am honored you would trust me with such a wondrous gift, little bird.” He murmurs softly. “I can assure you that nothing will be done without your enthusiastic approval.”

You nod, trusting him implicitly, and you stop moving as the song ends. You stare into his eyes, “take me home and make me yours, Ezra.” You demand, wanting him tonight and to give him all of you.

“I- yes.” Ezra breaths. “Whatever you wish, chérie.” He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “Let us make our way back to our abodes and we shall begin to become more intimately acquainted.”

You let him escort you through the crowd and out onto the now chilly streets of Paris, walking a little faster than you have known him to walk before as he guides you back to your building. “We have all night, mon amor.” You giggle playfully and squeeze his hand, “I’m yours for tomorrow too, not just tonight.”

“Forgive me, chérie.” Ezra flushes slightly. “It has been awhile for me and I must admit that I am eager to learn what makes you moan.”

You fluster, glad he’s eager to be with you. “I have wondered many nights what your touch would feel like. I’ve…explored my own body and know what feels good but I want to feel you, I want to hear you moan my name. I want you to feel pleasure.” You murmur, leaning against him as you turn onto your street.

“My little bird is a seductress.” Ezra groans, his cock twitching in his suit pants and he wants nothing more than to feel your heat around him. “Tell me, have you ever heard of fellatio or cunnilingus?” He asks, his voice dropping. “Using my mouth on your cunt to make you feel like you are flying?”

Just his words make your cunt bottom out and your stomach twists with anticipation. “I- I’ve read about it in my books. Novels. Books my parents didn’t know I had.” You confess to owning erotica and his voice has your cunt dripping and you walk a little faster, eager when you see your building in sight.

He chuckles, watching you pull away in your eagerness. “Then you won’t be scandalized when I tell you that I want to slide my tongue through your cunt until you are crying out my name and soaking my face.”

You gasp at his scandalous words but not because you are shocked. No, you are turned on. His words send a wave of arousal and need through you and you are practically sprinting to the front door of your building. When you fumble to open the door with your key, Ezra’s hand slides down your back to squeeze your ass and you drag him inside, pushing him against the door to press your lips to his, uncaring of your neighbors possibly witnessing your display.

Ezra groans and when he can, his tongue slides inside your mouth, drinking down your moan. His cock is swelling, rapidly hardening against your body as you press yourself against him. Wishing again he had both arms so he could pick you up and carry you to your apartment.

You kiss for several moments until a door slams from the floor above and you pull back, giggling as you start to climb the stairs to your apartment. Ezra struggles a little due to the situation in his trousers and you are fumbling with your lock when he comes up behind you, caressing your back. “Are you sure, little bird?” He asks, his voice rough and full of lust. It’s enough to make you shiver. You open the door and step inside, reaching for his hand. “I’m sure, Ezra. I want you. I love you.”

Nodding, he doesn’t insult you by questioning you again. He steps into your apartment and kicks the door shut. “Chérie, you tell me if there is anything you do not like.” He demands. “I wish for this to be nothing but joyous.” He will do his damndest to make it exactly what you want. “Now show me your bedroom.”

You take his hand after you set your purse down to guide him to your bedroom. He’s never been in here before and you fluster at the clothes that are on the floor from your rush to pick an outfit for going dancing with him. “Sorry about the mess.” You murmur and he chuckles, shrugging off his jacket to drape it over the chair in the corner. 

“Do not fret little bird, I’ve seen far worse.” He assures you and you swallow harshly, the quiet of the room brings the seriousness of this night but you still want him. You reach up to unclip his tie, knowing he uses those since he can no longer tie his own, and you reach for the hem of his shirt after you toss the tie to the chair. “I want to see you.” You request, keeping your hands on the hem in case he doesn’t want you to remove it.

“My arm-“ he swallows nervously. “It is not pretty.” He fears that you might still turn him away. “They did the best they could, but it is still a missing arm.” He holds your hand for a moment and then lets go. “But if you wish to see me, there is nothing I would deny you.”

“My love.” You let go of his shirt to reach up and cup his cheeks, “I want to see all of you. Let me love all of you. I do not care about your imperfections. I have my own. I simply wish to see the man I love. All of him.” 

Ezra nods, a lump in his throat, and you reach down to lift his shirt over his head. When it flutters to the floor, your eyes meet his until they shift to his body. The scars that scatter his skin from battle and the jagged edge of his missing limb. You aren’t repulsed, in fact, it makes you love him more for enduring such hardship. You lean down to press your lips to his shoulder, kissing along the scars that lead to his amputation.

He shudders, inhaling a ragged breath as you show him more acceptance than anyone ever has before. Standing before you in his trousers, he stands proud, enjoying the heated look in your eyes when they find his again. “I only wish I could assist you out of your dress, little bird.”

You shake your head, stepping back to reach behind you and pull the zipper of your dress down. “Do not worry about that, Ezra. You can take my panties off.” You wink and try to cover up your nerves as you let your dress fall to the floor after you kick your heels aside, revealing your underwear to his hungry gaze.

“Aphrodite herself.” Ezra groans, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin you have revealed to him. “I am a mere mortal in the presence of a goddess.” He declares, stepping closer and caressing your waist as he leans in to kiss you. You are still wearing a bra so he slides his hand around to try to unclip it while you kiss.

His tongue slides against yours and you can feel him fumbling so you reach behind you to help him unclip your bra, letting him drag it down your arms until it’s falling to the floor. You caress his chest, sliding your hands up until you are wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against his. His hard cock digging into your hip and you want to see all of him. Your hands let go of his neck so you can reach between you to undo his pants, shoving them down and he kicks his shoes off so he’s only in his briefs and socks. 

“Can I?” You ask, wanting him to be comfortable and when he nods, you hook your fingers in his underwear to drag them down. Your eyes wide when his thick length bounces free in front of your face. “Oh my God.” You gasp at him and reach up to wrap your fingers around him instinctively.

“Shit.” Ezra hisses, his length pulsing in your grip. “I- I have imagined your hand around my cock many times, little bird.” He confesses. “And yet I find that my imagination was sorely lacking in the realization of how good you would feel.” He doesn’t want you to be fearful so he reaches down and grabs your hand so he can help you back to your feet. “I wish to taste you.” He croaks. “Lay down on the bed so I can strip off your panties and lay my eyes on heaven.”

You don’t deny him. Shifting back to lay on your bed, head on the pillows, and you watch him as he kicks his briefs off his ankles and is left only in his socks as he kneels on the bed. Your heart pounds in your chest as he reaches out to hook his fingers in your panties on one side of your body and he carefully manages to shimmy them down until you are naked. Once he tosses them aside, his hand slides along your calf until he’s gripping your thigh and you grant him his silent wish, spreading your legs for him.

“Heaven.” Ezra proclaims, his eyes fixed on the thatch of neat curls that cover your sex. “I will be washed clean of all my sins in the pool between your thighs.” He traces lines over your skin with his fingers and he bends down to press a kiss to your knee. Shuffling down, he lowers himself down as he kisses along your thigh.

His words seem too poetic for such a naughty act but your chest heaves as his kisses get closer to your cunt. When his breath washes over the sensitive skin, you whimper and his deep chuckle echoes in your bedroom. “Ezra.” You gasp when he leans closer and his tongue dips between your folds, sampling your tangy arousal, and your eyes close as the pleasure tingles over your body.

Ezra groans, the sound vibrating directly into your core and immediately he’s entranced. Addicted to you and the way your thighs tighten around his head. Flicking his tongue over your clit, he wishes he could spread your legs wide and hold you open while he devours you like the feast you are.

Your head is thrown back when he sucks on your clit, the pleasure making your head spin. You’ve never experienced anything like this. His wet mouth on your cunt has your heart pounding in your chest. “Fuck, Ezra.” You curse, panting as he pushes his tongue inside of you. “So good. It feels so good.”

Moaning, he loves the way your walls pulse around his tongue, trying to draw him deeper. He shuffles down until he is flat on his belly, turned slightly so he can lay on his right side. It doesn’t hurt to lay against his amputation and it allows him to still stroke your thigh and stomach with his left hand. Wanting to make this amazing for you and get you ready to take him.

"Shit. You - you feel so good baby." You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, and your heart pounds in your chest when his dark eyes meet yours. "Oh God. So good." You pant when he slides his hand down, gathering up your slick, and he pushes a finger inside of you.

He has practiced this. With the women he had paid, so he is not fumbling like he might have been. Though you would not know there was finesse to his touch either way. Your cunt squeezes his fingers and he groans before he pulls his head away. “I am going to prepare you for my cock, little bird, you might feel very full but it is so I do not hurt you.”

You are nervous but you know he would never hurt you. You watch him, eyelashes fluttering as he scissors his fingers inside of you. "Oh God, Ezra." You whimper when he resumes sucking your clit. It's more pleasure than you've ever known and you love the man giving it to you. "Please." You beg, not sure what you are begging for but you feel the tension building in your belly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He coos, pulling off your clit before he dives back into your folds. His fingers pump and curl up inside you, pressing against the spongy spots until your hips jolt up and you cry out letting him know he’s found it. Determined to make you cum, he presses against that spot again and again while he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Oh shit.” You hiss, back arching as the tension coils tighter until you’re falling apart. Clamping down on his fingers, you moan his name and wonder how on earth you survived without his touch. Soaking his fingers, you grip the sheets and squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure surges through you.

Liquid gold. That is what rushes over his fingers as you fall apart. Coating them and his wrist while your walls squeeze his fingers like a vice. Making him groan at how tightly your body will hold his cock as he works you through your high.

“Oh God.” You pant, slumping against the mattress as he withdraws his fingers and you open your eyes, shifting to look down at him, loving the smirk on his face after he sucks his digits into his mouth. “Kiss me.” You beg, wanting to feel him over you.

Crawling up your body is not as graceful as it might have been before the war. He cannot pause and kiss or nip here and there as often as he would like. When he finally settles between your thighs, his cock against your mound, he smiles softly at you. “You wish for a kiss, little bird? I will grant you all the wishes you desire. Just call me your genie.”

You chuckle at his smooth words, your hands caressing every inch of his body that you can touch. “I love you.” You murmur before he leans in to kiss you. You feel his smile against your lips and you love how happy you feel in this moment. His weight is braced on his forearm and you reach between you to grip his cock, wanting to stroke him but you don’t really know what you’re doing.

He grunts, closing his eyes slightly. “Loosen your grip and slide your hand up and down.” He breathes out raggedly. “Feel how the skin moves over the hardness underneath?”

You follow his order, amazed at how he feels like velvet despite the hardness beneath. You slide your hand up and down, your thumb swiping over the leaking head unknowingly and he groans in response. “You’re big.” You tell him despite not having anything to compare him to. He’s big in your grip and that’s all you can go by.

“It will fit, most assuredly.” He groans. “The clutch of your cunt will be like the hottest glove I have ever worn.” He rocks his hips into your grip and twitches in your hand. “Little bird, I fear I am much too enthusiastic for you to continue. Otherwise I might cause myself great embarrassment by finishing before we can truly begin.”

You loosen your grip and he sighs in relief, making you smile. You’re pleased he’s just as affected by you as you are of him. “Put me in.” Ezra orders and you swallow harshly, suddenly nervous as you guide him towards your cunt. When he’s notched at your entrance, he starts to slowly push inside of you and your hands grip his back, eyes closed as you brace yourself for the pain you’ve heard about.

Ezra takes his time, breaking you forward an inch at a time. His jaw is clenched and his arm trembling from the effort to take it slow. When you close your eyes, brows knitted together, he drops down to his elbow and kisses you. “Relax, little bird.” He promises, feeling your walls tighten in anticipation.

You slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, keeping his lips against yours, and you whimper when he pushes deeper, trying to relax when he tells you to. “God.” You pant, half wishing this was over and half wishing this would last forever.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He promises, pushing his hips slightly deeper into the crevice of your thighs and smoothly through your innocence to completely fill you.

You gasp in pain but he soothes it away by leaning in to kiss you, distracting you, and you kiss for several moments, tongues tangled while your body adjusts to the intrusion. “Please, Ezra.” You whimper when his cock twitches inside of you. You want him to move, the pain now transforming into the beginnings of pleasure and your heart pounds in your chest at having the man you love take your innocence.

“We have all the time in the world, my love.” He assures you, not wanting you to feel like you have to rush towards bliss. His kisses keep you occupied for another moment and when he feels your inner muscles start to quiver, that he knows he can move without any resistance. “You feel perfect, the feeling cannot be described.” He is nearly speechless as he starts to pull his hips back slowly, keeping the movement measured when he slowly sinks back into you.

Your chest feels tight with emotion as he rocks into you, making you lift your legs higher. His groan vibrates into your chin after he presses a soft kiss there, and you slide your hands along his back. "It feels so good. Never- never imagined it would feel like this."

“Love making is supposed to feel good, like you never want it to end.” His words roll out, groaning slightly at how perfect you are. “I want you to feel nothing but pleasure with me.”

You chuckle softly, "I never want this to end." You confess, kissing along his neck as he moves inside of you with measured thrusts and when you lift your leg higher onto his hips, you whimper at the new sensation. "No one else I want to feel like this. Only you. I love you." You murmur, loving how you feel like the only people in the world.

“I adore you.” Ezra groans, closing his eyes as he rocks in and out of you. “My perfect little bird. So beautiful and trusting, so giving.” He kisses along your shoulder and groans when you squeeze him tight.

His honeyed words wash over you, making you feel like it's a struggle to breathe, but you pant out, "all yours." You feel that tension coiling in your stomach but it's slow, not as intense, just building with each rock of his hips. "Oh God, Ezra. I need-" You don't know what you need, just that it feels good and you want more.

“I wish I could do it, my love.” Ezra huffs, wanting to be the one to bring you all your pleasure tonight. “But reach down and rub your little button. The one I sucked on so satisfyingly.”

You reach down between you, your fingers finding your clit, and you whimper as you get the pleasure your body craved. His cock moves inside of you, hitting the right spot to make you whimper, and when he shifts his hips again, your head tilts back into the pillow as you cry out his name.

“Magnificent.” Ezra grunts, clenching his teeth together as your walls clamp down on his cock and you soak him in your pleasure. “Good girl. Good girl.”

Your eyes are closed and Ezra is leaning down to kiss along your neck, making you whimper, and you want Ezra to cum. “Baby. Oh baby. I want you to - please. Inside. I don’t care. I want to feel all of you.”

He shudders, imagining that feeling of filling you up and even though he knows it’s risky, he does. His pace picks up and he rocks into you with less measured thrusts. Half a dozen more times before he is moaning your name, pushing deep as his cock throbs and he paints your walls with his seed.

You close your eyes, loving how it feels to be totally consumed by him like this, and you whimper when he works himself through his orgasm, his seed pushed out of you, and you tangle your fingers in his hair to bring his face to yours, pressing your lips against his.

Ezra sighs against your lips. Enjoying the feeling of his high and he shifts so he can move his weight off his left arm, lowering himself onto you so it is not too uncomfortable for you. “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Love you too, baby.” You smile against his mouth, your hands shifting to caress his back. You love all of him, even the parts he’s missing. You adore him and you know you want to be his. You shift so he can lay on his side and you immediately move to curl around him, his cock sliding out of you at the move, and you don’t care about his seed dripping out of you as you breathe him in.

“I must confess that words are failing me, little bird.” His arm wraps around you, caressing your back as he tries to catch his breath. It had been such a long time since he had felt this way. Like he is whole. Not because of a missing limb, but because of your love.

“No words. Just us.” You murmur, closing your eyes as the events of the night catch up on you. He kisses your hair and you know you made the right choice coming to Paris. “Sleep, little bird.” Ezra urges, knowing you are exhausted. You hum, breathing him in and you fall asleep surrounded by him. 

****

* knock knock * 

The front door is shaking with the knocks, several in a row, and you are still asleep. “Coming!” Ezra calls out, struggling to pull his trousers on as he walks over to open the door before it can wake you up. “I think the door just about survived your incessant attack. How can I help you, sir?” Ezra asks, his shirt barely pulled over his head and untucked and he feels the other man’s anger as his eyes assess Ezra. He announces that he’s looking for you. “She’s thankfully still asleep right now, no thanks to your monstrous knocking. May I inquire as to whom is seeking an audience with her?” Ezra asks. 

“Tell her it’s Jacob. Her fiancé.”

Ezra’s stomach drops, his mouth parts but for a moment no words come out. “I believe you might be mistaken.” He manages after a moment of disbelief. “The lady is not engaged, she is unattached and has been for the duration of her time in Paris.” This is some kind of mistake. It has to be. You would not lie to him and keep a fiancé a secret.

“You are the one who is mistaken. She accepted my proposal. Her parents and my parents are close friends. She escaped to Paris and we thought she’d come back but it’s been a month and she’s - it looks like she has kept herself busy.” Jacob says in disgust as he looks at Ezra. 

You come out of your bedroom, robe hastily tied around your waist and your eyes widen when you see Jacob standing at your door. “Jacob? What are you doing here?”

“You are acquainted with this man?” The shock on your face is answer enough and Ezra feels like he has been played for a fool. He hears Jacob scoff and he can’t even remember to excuse himself before he is pushing past you to gather the remainder of his clothes so he can leave. You are engaged. What was this? Some kind of power trip for you? Making the poor fool fall in love with you before you go back to your life in America? Ezra growls, pissed that he doesn’t have two hands as he shoves his feet into his shoes without socks and grabs his tie and jacket.

“Ezra. Wait. Let me explain. Please.” You beg, trying to reach for him but he shrugs your hand away, spinning to push past Jacob and he storms down the hall. “Ezra. Please!” You beg, pushing past Jacob to follow him. 

“What do you want?” Ezra growls as he faces you. 

Your lower lip trembles at the disgust you see in his eyes. “Please let me explain. It’s complicated.”

“It is not complicated.” He hisses. “You led me to believe that you were unencumbered. When you have a doting fiancé waiting at home for you to warm his bed.” He is so hurt that he feels like he is going to lash out at you. “Go back to your fiancé.” He spits. “You can tell him that you slept with me out of pity.” Turning back around he tosses his jacket over his shoulder and quickly opens the door to his apartment, slamming it shut behind him.

Your eyes sting with tears and you turn to make your way back onto your apartment where Jacob is still waiting for you. “Looks like you’ve settled into Parisian life.” Jacob scoffs and you shut the door behind you. 

“I- I can’t go home with you. I love it here. It’s my home now. I belong here. Please Jacob. Don’t - don’t make me go home.” You plead and he shakes his head. 

“Your parents wanted me to bring you back. You know they are anxious for us to be married. When you left, they were frantic until they got your letter. They have been looking for you for weeks. They sent me here to bring you home so we can get married.” He tells you and you shake your head. 

You walk over to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know I love you, but as my friend. Our fathers…they always wanted us to marry but - you didn’t even propose. It was - it was arranged and I didn’t want that. I want love. Don’t you want love?” You ask him. 

Jacob swallows harshly, reaching for your hand to lower it from his face. “I have love. Her name…Cheryl. She’s perfect and I- I want to marry her.” He admits for the first time out loud. 

You grin, squeezing his hand, “then marry her. You and I are good friends but that’s it. I love you but I’m not in love with you.” You tell him and he nods, “you’re in love with him.” 

He jerks his chin to the door and it’s not a question, its a statement. You nod and Jacob sighs, “your parents are gonna be pissed at me for not bringing you home.” 

You chuckle, “when have we ever cared about what they think? I ran away because they have controlled me for too long. My father is still engrossed in war time but we are at peace now and I want to live, to love. Tell them I’m sorry, but I’m happy here.” You tell Jacob who nods, 

“I’ll tell them.” He leans down to kiss your cheek, “be happy.” He murmurs and you nod when he pulls back to look at you. 

“You too.” 

He lets go of your hand and walks over to your front door, knowing he’s going to have grief when he gets home but it will be worth it if he can marry Cheryl. You watch him close the door and decide to get dressed and find Ezra.

In his apartment, the few tears he had shed have been replaced by stifling anger. Scowling and ripping through his closet, the bag on the bed lays open to be stuffed with clothes. He cannot live here any longer. The furnished apartment had been a very comfortable place to be but he will be reminded by your betrayal. Curses hissed out from under his breath accompanying his hurried packing, hoping that he gets done and leaves before the sounds of love making come through the walls.

You open Ezra’s apartment door that he neglected to lock in his rush, and you find him packing a bag. “You’re leaving?” You choke and he doesn’t even look at you. 

“Aren’t you? Heading back to your pre-planned life in America? What was I? Just a joke? Seduce the one armed man so I can titter about him when I have luncheons in Boston?” Ezra hisses and you shake your head. 

“My love-” 

“Do not call me that.” He growls and you swallow, “Jacob and I were arranged to be married. Our families have been close friends for our entire lives. Our fathers served together in the Great War and they wanted us to be a family. Jacob never proposed properly. I never received a ring. It was on paper. That’s why I ran away. I didn’t want to marry him. I love him as a friend and nothing more. I swear to you, I wasn’t engaged to him in my heart, only in the eyes of my parents. I love you. I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t - I thought that it would brush over and Jacob would get married and I’d be free. I should’ve told you. I should’ve disclosed why I was here.”

He doesn’t believe you, shaking his head, he scoffs. “Yet there was a man on your doorstep, disgusted to see me in his place.” He reminds you. “I do not believe you little bird, I regret that you believe me to be so gullible. You’re just like her.” He hisses. “Pitying me and believing my lost arm has rendered me addle-brained as well.”

You shake your head, "just like who? Baby, I love you. Please don't do this. I love you and I - I'm so sorry I lied. I didn't - he isn't - we aren't engaged. Not in the traditional sense." You urge him to believe you.

“She was my fiancé.” He reveals, his frantic packing paused and he looks up at you with anger and sadness mixed together. “She told me in letters that she didn’t care that I had lost my arm. She loved me. She wanted me. Until I went home. She had been sleeping with my best friend. Told me that she hadn’t thought of us engaged once I had been wounded.”

“Oh God, Ezra. I’m so sorry.” You choke, fingers twitching with the need to comfort him. “Baby. I- oh God. I know you must hate me now and I understand. I get it. I- I’ll go. I’ll go. I’m sorry. Just - just know that I love you. I’m so in love with you and I’ve never felt this way before. I know you think I’m a whore and just like your ex fiancé. I’ll go.” You choke, tears now streaming down your cheeks because you know it’s over. He can’t forgive you.

Ezra closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping and he sighs. “Little bird….” He chokes out, gripping the shirt he had been packing in a tight fist. “You- swear to me that you are telling me the truth.” He demands. “That you never wanted to marry this man and he felt the same towards you.”

“I never wanted to marry him. He’s my friend. Nothing more. I swear to you.” You sob, “he - he’s in love with a woman called Cheryl. He - we have been friends our entire lives. He’s protective and I - he didn’t know that I was in love with you but when I told him, he agreed to leave me here.”

Ezra swallows, hating to see the tears in your eyes. He drops the shirt and moves towards you hesitantly. “I am sorry.” He whispers, ashamed that he had made you cry. You are telling the truth, you love him and you never wanted to marry that other man. “Are you staying?”

You nod, “if you’ll have me. If not…I guess I’m heading home.” You murmur, glancing back at the door after you wipe your eyes. Still dressed in your robe, you feel vulnerable.

He takes another step towards you and cups your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him. “If you stay, I wish for you to be my wife.” He murmurs softly. “I want to be your husband. Not to own you or to make you unhappy. But to build a life with you here.”

Your eyes widen as his response, and you are surprised he wants to marry you. If he’d asked last night, you would’ve said yes without hesitation. “You want to marry me?” You ask softly and he nods. You lean forward to press your forehead against his cheek, “I love you. It would - I’d marry you right this second if I could.”

“I do not think we could find someone to marry us at this hour.” Ezra hums, lowering his hand so he can wrap his arm around you. “There is also the small matter of procuring you a ring. I am a man who believes in tradition, and will be wearing my own with pride.”

You let him pull you into his chest and you swallow harshly, “you want -” You’re speechless as you reach up to cup his cheeks. “I love you. I want to marry you as soon as possible. I want to be yours in every way.” You murmur, pressing your lips against his.

“You will have me, little bird.” Ezra promises, smiling at you softly. “Every bit of me. I love you. I want you to be mine and I will be yours. Forever.”

You nudge your nose against his, “forever. Maybe we can get a chateau in the country and I can have your babies?” You suggest playfully, sliding your hand down his chest to feel his heart pounding beneath your touch.

“You wish to live the life of a French country woman?” Ezra grins, “chérie, I will make sure you have your chateau and your babies. We might have even started our little family tonight.”

You sigh in bliss, “I hope so. I love you, Ezra. I am so glad I met you. You’ve changed my life and I - I hope we spend the rest of our days together.” You murmur, knowing you would never regret coming to Paris to escape your family. You are going to create your own family with Ezra. 

****

“Mon cher, come in. Lunch is ready!” You call out to the garden where your son is playing. Your daughter on your hip as you place the bread on the table. “Ezra! Lunch is ready!” You call out to your husband who has been painting in the garden.

Looking up from his painting, Ezra smiles. Setting the brush in a cup of turpentine, he calls out to André. “Come, we must eat.” He tells him as he walks over to kiss you and take his darling little girl out of your arms. “Thank you, chérie.” He murmurs, not just talking about the lunch. He’s talking about the life he has with you, something he had never hoped to have after the war and now he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

[tamorasky]

Rise to Me Chapter 41 - 1947

Summary: 1947. It had been nearly four years since she had received a letter from her sister. Now with the end of the war and her impending wedding, Anna Rendelle is more determined than ever to find her sister.

1943. All her life Elsa Rendelle had been told to be good, know her place and to marry well. When an opportunity arises to make something of herself, finding herself in Occupied France as a part of a larger network of secret agents.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Anna/Kristoff, Elsa/Honeymaren, Anna/Hans (Briefly) 

Arras, France – June 2, 1947 There’s a lump in his throat as he stands across the street from the apartment. The worry that the flowers in his hand are wilting is long gone as he debates whether to enter the looming building. Would she even want to see him?  It had been nearly two years since Will left Arras and Antoinette along with it. He should’ve begged her to come with him to England, but recalling the strong-willed woman, he would not have had a chance.  Pushing down his doubts and anxiety, Will rushes across the street, dodging the traffic. He catches the door as a resident leaves the complex. A sigh resounds in the lobby as he looks up at her apartment's never-ending spiral of staircases. Recalling that she lived on the top floor. 

Continue Reading Here!!

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

[johnslittlespoon]

making a bucky edit to 'hot to go!' by chappell roan i feel sooo normal about how much modern au john would ADORE her he would be such a girlypop enjoyer lmfaooooo

[janiedean]

jaime x brienne the great gatsby au where jaime is jay gatsby and brienne is nick and cersei is daisy. tom could be robert. myrtle is one of robert's many gfs because he's not over lyanna. jordan is idk??? renly? loras? in this case brienne doesn't meet the gang because she's related to daisy-cersei but because she knew jordan-renly or loras. can wolfsheim be tyrion? and ofc this has a happy ending :3

… anon I had NOT expected brienne!nick but my friend you are cooking a gourmet meal here, tom could absolutely be robert, jordan should prob be renly but brienne covers for his thing with loras, and yeaaaah i should give that book a reread bc I read it once when I was 17 or smth so I’m rusty on the details but wolfsheim tyrion could be a thing 👀 ngl at this point just make the whole lannister business bootlegging with tyrion doing it separately because why would he suffer like that but anon I absolutely like the prospects here we can think about it

[11x13kyle]

if you’re jewish and you wanna ship kyman go right on ahead i’m not a cop but i DO think you should describe kyman to your parents just once and show them your posts

[troublesomecousin]

♘ - a memory of their sibling(s)

♘ - a memory of their sibling(s)

It had been years, nearly a whole lifetime it felt like since he'd last seen Orin. But well, Kevin had been living in England for longer now than he had New York, so it made some sense that it felt that way. The wide-eyed kid he had been when he and his mother had moved to be closer to her family had been replaced with a moderately surly teenager, but standing here now with his brother he still felt small. A decade and change difference in age would do that, but Kevin was still disappointed by the fact that he still felt like a baby even now that they were nearly the same size. Plus, he knew how to swear properly now! That made him an adult! "Mum's gonna flip if she finds out you got me these. I think she might kill you first then me," Kevin said, unsure of what else to say as he stuck the pack of cigarettes into his pocket and stuffed the dirty magazines inside his coat. He'd only asked for the cigarettes, but Orin had been grinning ear to ear when he'd practically shoved the paper bag into his little brother's hands. Kevin had almost thought to say something about them not exactly being his taste, but he didn't want to seem ungrateful. That and he wasn't sure he was ready to tell anyone about his "preferences". "S'don't tell her," Orin replied with a shrug as he started back toward the house. Kevin quickly followed after him, his hands sweating a bit as he carried his contraband with him. "You do know how to lie I hope. Woulda figured you'd have inherited that skill from our dad...and besides, your ma loves me. She'd just kill you." Kevin rolled his eyes. "Yea, yeah...I know. She's got a thing for dumbass Americans." "Don't be such a little snot, Kevvy," Orin retorted, reaching over and ruffling the other's hair, much to his displeasure. But Kevin kept his irritation silent, frowning instead before turning his gaze toward the ground. "It's unbecoming of a young man...shit, when'd you get tall? Baby brothers aren't supposed to get tall." Stopping dead in his tracks, Kevin couldn't hide his agitation this time. He glowered at Orin from behind a now disheveled lock of dark hair. "It's been eight years. You stopped writing. What? Did you think I stop growing when you're not around? Think I'm still a kid?" "Kevin..." Orin's voice was uncharacteristically soft, all jocularity lost as he stood there staring. His lips curled slightly as if he was going to say something nasty, and Kevin braced himself, but nothing angry came. "I don't know...I don't think any of that. I just...I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean anything by it." Kevin let his shoulders relax, having until just then not realized how much he had hunched them. He sniffled, trying to contain any further embarrassing displays of emotion. "Fine..." he replied, starting up walking again, this time Orin was the one lagging a few steps behind. "Just...don't do that again. Don't forget about me, okay? Promise you won't." Orin placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder, and despite himself, Kevin did find the warmth and the weight soothing. He didn't get this sort of feeling from anyone else. Not his mother, his step-dad...he'd missed feeling protected by someone outside of himself. "I won't, kiddo. I didn't...I promise." "And promise not to call me 'kiddo'." "No."

[lightdancer1]

One of the fun bits of In the Company of Witches and Slayers as an AU:

The show essentially sets up that much of Sunnydale's coverups of obviously supernatural shenanigans was a Mayoral conspiracy and then the immortal with the demon pacts who kept all that together dies and this seemingly has no impact on Sunnydale's awareness of supernatural events. Well here, starting with Willow's brief first Dark Willow moment of summoning a category 5 stormcloud over Sunnydale and on through this the censorship field wavers and finally disintegrates in Sunnydale, though its overall factor as a price of the Shadowmen's original spell makes it to Season 7.

This means that just in time for the Initiative and Adam to finally move to center stage in the 2001 timeframe (and as they've been background villains for a while the reign of terror is actually fairly short and ends well before the start of 2002) that Sunnydale's capacity to see and sense the supernatural suddenly and abruptly changes and it realizes it's got vampires, demons, werewolves, witches, and Slayers running around.

And then becomes Metropolis from DC comics but vampires.

"What the fuck, man! That tiny blonde was kicking the shit out of some Andre the Giant with horns!"

"Oh it's just the blonde Slayer. You should see what the brunette does. If it wasn't for the idea that vampires would kill me I'd support a vampire rights thing."

"Wait, I thought witches needed broomsticks to fly."

"Evidently not."

[tobaitfishwith]

Every nurse in the Shanghai General Hospital knows that something is going on between Dr Chen and the US ambassador.

[wwiisouthparkau]

CLYDE: ♪Верю в тебя, в дорогую подругу мою♪

CLYDE: ♪Эта вера от пули меня тёмной ночью хранила...♪

CLYDE: ♪Радостно мне, я спокоен в смертельном бою ♪

CLYDE: ♪Знаю, встретишь с любовью меня, что б со мной ни случилось♪

CRAIG: Could you shut the fuck up for a second?

CLYDE: Dude, I can’t find my hat anywhere.

CLYDE: And he told me! He told me to leave it at the meeting point…

CRAIG: sigh

CRAIG: How do I look?

CLYDE: I don’t care dude! I can’t find my hat! I’m dead without it!

CRAIG: Клайд. Don’t you realise how important this moment is?

CRAIG: I really need to look presentable.

CRAIG: Where’s Petuski?

CLYDE: I don’t care!

CLYDE: Or… If he doesn’t come… I could steal his hat.

CRAIG: For fucks sake Clyde stop babbling about your hat and go find that idiot before it’s too late.

CLYDE: Why don’t you go find him?!

PETUSKI: Oh God! Am I late?!

PETUSKI: Hey guys.

CRAIG: Finally, the prince arrived at the castle.

CLYDE: Where have you been?!

CRAIG: Not to take a shower, that’s for sure.

CLYDE: Dude, do you maybe have a hat I could borrow?

PETUSKI: I might, but it’s for my other head.

PETUSKI: It’s by far more important than your stupid head, in case you have one.

CLYDE: ...

PETUSKI: You don’t deserve no hat.

CRAIG: For the love of Christ, shut the fuck up both of you!

CRAIG: We’re here.

CARTMAN: Here you are.

CARTMAN: Want a drink?

CRAIG: No, si-

PETUSKI: I’ll have one.

CLYDE: *(Oh my fucking God…)*

CARTMAN: ТЫ МРАЗЬ БЛЯТЬ!!

CARTMAN: How can you drink while working!! Didn’t you learn anything!?

CARTMAN: You good for nothing dog shit.

CRAIG: Excuse him.

CLYDE: Why did you call us in, sir?

CLYDE: What do we need to do?

CARTMAN: God damn it.

CARTMAN: sigh

CARTMAN: I have an order for you to follow.

CARTMAN: That I hope you idiots can fulfill it. It’s a hard one. It’s the hardest but also the most important order I’ll give you… … in the close future.

CLYDE: If it’s so important you wouldn’t give it to idiots, so we’re not idiots after all are we?

CRAIG: *(The idiot didn’t just talk back to him…)*

CRAIG: *(DUDE! THATS THE FUCKING SERGEANT MAJOR)*

CLYDE: ...

CARTMAN: Shut up Clyde.

CARTMAN: Or… we can call it “mission”.

CARTMAN: Because it’s a long-ass fucking mission.

CARTMAN: I have chosen you because I know your potential. By “you” , I mean Petuski and Clyde. You haven’t stayed for a very long period of time in the army unlike Creig, which is why you’re gonna go for a physical reason - I need your strong bodies for now since your brains aren’t as trained.

CARTMAN: It’s the end of the war. We won, my comrades. We deeply anal fucked all those dirty Germans to death.

CARTMAN: Which means now we are just going to get to the heart of “Germany” and assert our victory. It isn’t official yet, but we are getting there. It’s only January, perhaps in a few weeks … or months, depending on how long will those fucktards take to realise they’re losing. No, that they already lost.

CARTMAN: So idiotic of them… to keep fighting…

CARTMAN: I’ll personally make sure every single Deutsch living on that hell of a land will bow to the red army. I’ll make them kiss any Soviet’s man feet they look upon.

PETUSKI: Sir…?

CARTMAN: Come on.

CARTMAN: Don’t you like what I’m saying? Are you in a hurry, Petuski?

PETUSKI:

CARTMAN: Then I’ll give more direct orders.

CARTMAN: I need you to gather some troops. And get as soon as possible to Berlin.

CRAIG:*(Berlin?)*

CRAIG: *(Sounds familiar. It reminds me of someone from there.)*

CRAIG: *(Tweek.)*

[sins-of-the-sea]

//....Really, I just wanted an excuse to draw Ruixiong with short hair. Turned out also being a body study to see if I can figure out a body shape for him that isn't too similar to Guy and Giovanni. I don't think I've quite gotten there yet.

Don't mind the chickenscratch on the side, that's meant for me to make sure I got the timeline right with Rui considering, in the Bioshock Verse, he would have been a Chinese orphan born during WWII, and would have been a displaced war orphan forced to survive at a young age before he'd enter Rapture.

Got inspired to draw this anyway when I reblogged the Bioshock Verse portraits. Originally he was going to wear the full-body worker's suit or mechanic's overalls (and he probably would should I write/RP him out in Rapture), but I got too much young Marlon Brando living in my head rent-free and it won't go away, so just a tank top and loose jeans for now pfff.

To go with the Bioshock Abena sketch and backstory, here is Ruixiong's!

Wang Ruixiong has no recollection of how he lost his family by the end of the Japanese occupation of China in World War II; all he knew was that he was constantly traveling with other orphans and adult strangers in the fight for survival. He does, however, recall when he first entered Rapture as a child--he was forced to do assorted labor with what was then Fontaine Fisheries. He didn't know it at the time, but Ruixiong was being groomed into the smuggling business; by the time he was entering his teens, the young boy was well-versed in the most well-hidden parts of Rapture and in the best ways to hide or disguise contraband.

The boy would meet the Frascona Family by around 1950, when Rui was still a pre-teen; it was then he finally had someone to call family, having becoming close to the family's nephew Giovanni and the neighboring Duchamp Twins. Josep would work to become Ruixiong's legal guardian until he became of age in 1957, where he would attempt to make his own home by working as a supplier for Fontaine Futuristics.

Because Ruixiong has worked for Fontaine for all his life by this point, he considers himself in great debt to Frank Fontaine. Ruixiong, after surviving the fight that killed Fontaine, was among the first to rally behind Atlas in rebelling against Andrew Ryan. Ruixiong was among the other Atlas loyalists by the time of the New Year's Riots in 1958. As the Civil War raged on, Ruixiong was forced to separate from the Frascona family, unaware that both Josep, Arcelia, and Giovanni have gone missing.

Ruixiong would not reunite with Abena until sometime during the events of Bioshock 1, unaware of Josep, Arcelia, and Giovanni's fates. By this time, Ruixiong has forgone the fight against Ryan in favor of searching for his missing family. One can imagine his reaction upon realizing the truth behind Atlas once Jack has faced him for the final time.

Rui has mastered the Telekinesis Plasmid and does his best to avoid becoming a Splicer, though he admits the addictive properties often drive him mad.

[nehswritesstuffs]

The Time That We Love Best - RECAP - PART 1 OF 13

So, you know how tumblr's dashboard has been made jankier and jankier with each passing update? I'm taking it into my own hands to make some masterposts of some of my long-form fics because even though they have a side-page on my blog, I don't know how long that will hold out, and this is easier to share anyhow.

The Time That We Love Best - 206k words - a slice-of life/WWII/1950s Whouffaldi AU

Broken into thirteen parts because tumblr is a very webbed site.

[Part 1] - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Prompt Fills: Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

1. January 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

Clydebank, Scotland, 1940. John Smith is just trying to get through the war while making himself useful, trading in his paintbrushes for a rivet gun. After a bad day at work, he meets a young English girl at the pub who reads him a bit too well and lingers on his mind a bit too much.

2. Two Weeks Later [FFN]/[AO3]

Two weeks later, a second meeting leads to a second date for John Smith and Clara Oswald. Forward is as forward does and sometimes being forward leads to some funny things.

3. Early February 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

Clara Oswald faces a long and lonely night keeping watch over students. But John Smith gives her an offer for some companionship.

4. 11 February 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

John and Clara head into Glasgow for a day-long excursion. It’s a lovely day with some unexpected events, including one that John wasn’t ready for when he woke up that morning.

5. Late February 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

Clara’s faced with another long night watching over her students…which would’ve gone a lot smoother had John not shown up to demonstrate his sewing skills.

6. March 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

Clara finds herself with no students to watch for the first time in months and decides to use the free time to surprise John with a proper supper for once.

7. Early April 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

Movie night with the students of Miss Oswald, questions from curious children, and a few innocent words that make John consider his future.

8. Mid-April 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

John and Clara have a chat about war, risks, and on-hold plans.

9. 16 April 1940 [FFN]/[AO3]

After helping a coworker through a bad day, John decides he and Clara need another bus ride into Glasgow.

10. The Next Day [FFN]/[AO3]

John and Clara Smith have no regrets, but that doesn’t mean that everyone else is happy to hear that.

CONTINUED IN PART 2!

[tamorasky]

Rise to Me Chapter 39 - May 1947

Summary: 1947. It had been nearly four years since she had received a letter from her sister. Now with the end of the war and her impending wedding, Anna Rendelle is more determined than ever to find her sister.

1943. All her life Elsa Rendelle had been told to be good, know her place and to marry well. When an opportunity arises to make something of herself, finding herself in Occupied France as a part of a larger network of secret agents.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Anna/Kristoff, Elsa/Honeymaren, Anna/Hans (Briefly)

The sound of her heels clicking against the pavement resounds in Anna’s ears as she turns left on Dean and Flower Walk. Somehow not feeling as intimidated as she did back in February, despite still knowing that this wasn’t a safe neighbourhood.

She approaches number 27, knocking without any hesitancy. She clasps her hands together, idly looking around while waiting for the door to be answered. The door jerks open in an instant, as if Kristoff’s land lady had been waiting behind the entrance waiting for visitors.

The older woman scowls at Anna, a cigarette dangling between her fingers as she regards the auburn-haired women. “Can I help you?”

Continue Reading Here!! 

[wowzaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

this is a short(?) story i wrote about an alternate universe in which europe doesn’t exist. you might like it <3

oh btw i make music with my friends, u wanna check it out? itjustwontdie.bandcamp.com

Heartworm 2023 / Cancer In America (FINAL VERSION)

CLASSIC EDITION - REDO

my first story rewritten for apparently the fourth time. but i can tell. this one’s the keeper. mostly bc a lot of generations ii and iii are just edited versions of the 2022 ones but whatevs lmao enjoyyyyyyy ✨✨✨💀😭😭✋🏼✋🏼🍠🍠👢👢👢👍👍👍❤️❤️💖💖😂😂😂😂💖💖😂😂💖😂😂💖😂😂😢😂😂😨

——————

PRELUDE …AND THEN THERE WERE TWO

Let me take you back to March 1927, in a small town in Germany, nowadays called List. All the residents currently living there were gifted, or perhaps cursed, by the birth of a wonderful baby, a son to a young couple trying to make their way through life. This boy was a very special boy and had all his chances to do whatever he wanted as a child, but stayed with the rules and the rules only. Did this truly benefit him or, like, anyone? Find this out for yourself.

At the age of two, he got a job as the spokesman of a nearby toy factory called “SpaßZeit”. It was founded and run by two elderly-aged brothers, Karl and Leon. This company was very famous in West Europe but if you weren’t in that specific area in that specific time period, you won’t have heard about them.

At the time young Konnor got this job, underwater, close to a volcano near a Sicilian village, another baby boy was born, brought to consciousness in an abandoned sea-ville. This boy, soon to be called Oscar, got onto land at around one year of age. He says he doesn’t remember much of the rest of his history, but other times when asked, he’ll go silent, avert his eyes, and leave the room.

Konnor got his parents considerable money over the next few years up until he was orphaned in a freak car accident, his parents drunk driving off a bridge on the way home from a meeting at Spaßzeit.

He and his little sister, Henrietta, stayed at the factory while the two brothers, growing old, nearly burnt themselves building what would’ve been the world’s first animatronic that they called Busterdog. In fact, those two walked right out of the fire without a scratch! Konnor escaped alive, but didn’t think to get Henrietta. Legend says, she apparently fused with or melted into the animatronic. Allegedly, Konnor saw something exit the fire, but it didn’t look like her. Anyways, the next month, on the turn of 1941, the smoke from the fire was still being run out. It was considered toxic, and no one was allowed near the site. The eldest brother (Karl) passed away from an unknown cause and the government was convinced the smoke and ashes carried some kind of virus. The citizens tried to resist, but a lockdown was enforced in 1942. Everyone’s lives in that town became somewhat dystopian from this point forward.

——————

GENERATION I

PART 1 …FUN TIMES

A 12-year-old boy walked into List. He was very rugged and dirty, but had well intentions. His shirt had holes in it and was an off-putting shade of white and his flood pants were nearly shorts that matched the brown shoe that he had. This boy was Oscar, no last name (known to him, at least). He was going to turn thirteen this year soon. He had been taken care of by an unknown woman for over a year before she mysteriously died when he was six and, missing the ability to relax in a safe home, he wanted to apply for a foster family. In order to do so, he had to go to the Krankenhaus and test and get a vaccine for the disease Blorgschnecke, and it affected mainly teens. In the waiting line, he grabbed an article of the local newspaper instead of watching Tokio Jokio on the little Fernseher. He didn’t know much about the current events. He was, in fact, homeless. He had been living mostly behind a dumpster for about two years.

Konnor was having an awful day, as he was applying for a foster family that probably wouldn’t love him and his birthday present from the universe was a Q-tip up his nose and a needle full of toxic chemicals to counter the ones already in his system.

Oscar was the only one not wearing a mask in the line. Everyone else was angry at him. Finally, one man spoke out and everyone started yelling at him. He was confused, as he could not hear what they were saying. Konnor noticed this and told everyone to take their masks off because they were becoming useless: most people in line had them around their chins.

While a riot formed in the street and buildings crashed, Oscar and Konnor stared at each other, flabbergasted, from across the crowd.

———

The next week, the two met in the woods. The government was getting worse every day and gangs were forming that would publicly loot and murder civilians.

They talked for a long time, and they agreed that for the next couple weeks, they should stay somewhere to protect each other. They went searching for a suitable shelter to temporarily stay for the time being. Most places were either taken or, more commonly, past the point of repair. The two finally settled on a cave just south of the mountains.

It was very empty there, and the cave didn’t go deep. Oscar also pointed out that there was an old man to come with the cave. When asked what he was talking about, he turned around and pointed at the surviving Fun Times brother, Leon. He was not aging well, and he had heart problems that showed. He looked up at Konnor like he was an angel.

He said, “Ah! How you gave me such a fright!” They slowly hugged. Leon was tired, yet Konnor wanted to ask questions. “How come you didn’t talk to anyone after Karl passed away?”

“Oh, Konnor. Those legends are crazy. Then again, who knows what could have come out of the alliance of the Dark A…”

Konnor awaited patiently for the end of the pause, but soon enough realized it wasn’t an intentional pause.

The man suddenly couldn’t speak. It seemed he was choking, but he didn’t have anything in his mouth. He looked like he was trying to pry hands off his throat but there was nothing there. In fact, very soon, there was nothing there.

Konnor tried to see if he had a pulse while Oscar rubbed his forehead in disappointment, saying “Why does this have to happen to every old person we meet?”

Konnor continued to panic.

“How could this happen?! Help!”

“Maybe it’s Sinbad or So White and the three Coyotes,” Oscar pithily pointed out.

“Have you tried checking his pockets?” “What could be in there? How would that even help?! Get in your head!” “Just check them.” Konnor kneeled back down and, shaking, reached his hands into the old man’s pockets, to find a folded up piece of paper. It seemed like a note. “Give it to me.” Konnor refused and kept it to himself. They started wrestling on the floor. They got each other in a lock and Oscar quickly grabbed the note. He unfolded it. “Well? What does it say?” “It says, stay away from two things in life. The evil robot, and the.. beast of the night? What, like a dragon or something?” “I have a question.” “What?” “How did you know to reach in his pockets?” “I’m from a place where it’s actually… customary to look in dead people’s pockets. “Where are you from, then?” “I… oh, look! A dead body! We should get that out of the cave before the police get us!” “Okay…”

They shoved the body outside of the cave and rolled it off a cliff. “Glad to see that old man gone,” said Konnor. “Really? I thought you liked him.” “Naw, all he ever did was burn down a factory trying to build a dog from scratch.”

PART 2 …MORE FUN TIMES

“Well, if we’re gonna eat anything, we’d better set up a fire and get some meat.” “Who elected you leader of this outfit?” “You don’t have a last name! How am I supposed to trust you?” “I know how to make hollandaise sauce.” “Do you even have parents?!” “Why do you need to know?” “I doubt you even have a family.” “What about it? What about yours, Konnor?” There was some silence.

“I’ll only get into mine… if you get into yours.” “Fine, I’ll get some kindling.” “Mm hmm. I’ll hunt whatever I can.”

When Oscar came back with kindling and a little dagger from in the middle of the woods, Konnor also came back with two dead pigs. They had a big meal that night.

The next day, Oscar took one of the bigger bones and, intending to make a broth, boiled it in water along with some random spices. He got curious when the whole batch turned blue and started bubbling. He took it off the fire and drank some. It tasted nice. Nothing happened. He heard a loud noise coming from the cave entrance.

He ran over and Konnor was sitting nearby. “Konnor. What was that?” “What was… what?”

“That noise, just now!” “I didn’t hear anything.” “It was coming from this room.” “Look, we need more firewood, and I’m busy finding leftover steel to make helmets and that kind of stuff.” “Swords, too.”

Oscar walked over and tried to open the entrance like he normally did, but it was stuck.

Konnor went to open it for him and see himself in even more glory, but it was stuck no matter how hard they tried to open it. This was bad, this was very bad.

Oscar ran back to the kitchen and the pot where the potion-like broth once was was now empty and there was little to no sign of spillage on the floor. Oscar began to feel very dizzy and uneasy and collapsed without warning on the kitchen floor.

PART 3 …VISITORS

Oscar had experienced some changes since the kitchen incident and become paranoid and even more malnourished.

He kept trying to make a potion that would “undo the curse”.

He had boarded off the original place where he made the cursed potion and would sometimes inhale too many fumes and forget entire hours of time.

While, along the way, he had made some interesting and wacky broths, he didn’t find a ratio of ingredients that was the same as before.

The two had been living together for months now and it was early 1943.

The two had managed to open the entrance, but it was very hard so they would keep it open all summer and closed all winter. Oscar had begun to make a potion book, documenting each “precise” combination. “Precise” meaning “a little bit” and “some” and “a lot”, of course.

Konnor began to regard Oscar as a wizard, and their roles in protecting the cave began to become clear. Konnor would hunt and make metal things, Oscar would make potions and do anything with wood, and they would both garden, which was especially hard since there wasn’t much natural light in a cave nor enough space to garden out front.

It would sometimes be tricky to keep this routine up, however, but only because sometimes Konnor would be tired or have injuries. Oscar was a good fighter when it came to beasts and such but still didn’t like the feeling he got when the enemy was dead or hurt, even when the enemy was particularly mad or evil.

Someone knocked on the entrance.

There were two people, a girl and a boy.

Konnor and Oscar invited them in and they opened the entrance from the outside, making it movable again.

The visitors, in uniforms of some sort, formally introduced themselves as Diana and Michael as they made their way through the

Diana said, “What are your names?” “Why are you asking?” “We have a warrant.” “From who?” “BND.” “This is a really bad time to come-“ “Well, regardless,” said Micheal, “we have been sent here by the German government, and you people are living in this cave without a telephone, housing license, and address.” Konnor pointed out, “How do we know you people aren’t scammers? You look a little young for the government.” Diana showed him a badge with a picture of an elderly man on it. Konnor said, “Wait. That’s not-“ Diana started fighting with him and Oscar ran away. Diana was good at karate but she spoke German, both confusing and bad news for Konnor. He threw hard punches but she was quick and dodged a considerable amount. Oscar ran back with the last potion he made and dumped it all on Diana without any warning. She disappeared as it was pouring. Michael was now gone too.

“Oscar…what did you do?!”

“That doesn’t matter right now.”

“Doesn’t it?!”

“You invited them in and I only defended you and that’s all I’m going to say about that. Don’t make me come over there and bludgeon you with this metal pot.”

Konnor went silent.

Oscar walked to the entrance and went outside.

Konnor immediately followed him out the door but when he looked around, Oscar wasn’t anywhere.

Oscar woke up on some leaves in the woods at midnight. It had been two weeks since the fight with Diana or…whatever her name was. He got up and saw some blood on his hands. He looked at the leaves below. They were also blood red. Blood was dripping down his front. He then looked around him. He could feel the trees looking at him, staring at him. He felt paranoid.

The trees told him it would be best to go and leave the woods behind. He obeyed something for once in his life and ran away.

He woke up in the passenger seat of a Volkswagen Beetle next to a guy who was a few years older than him. The moon began to go down. The driver said, “What were you doing out in the woods?” Oscar said, “Well, I’m not completely sure.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you were sleepwalking?” “I… really hope I was.” “And, if you weren’t?”

“It’s nothing. I think the question should be, why would you pick up an unconscious stranger from the woods at two A.M?” “I don’t know. You were bleeding from the head-” “I was?” Oscar felt his forehead and there was dried blood all the way down to the end of his nose. “Yes, you were. And you looked like a gang beat you up.” “Yeah. What’s your name?” “Brian Adams. Yours?” “Is this interrogation gonna go on any further?” “Look, just, where do you live?” “In a cave, only northeast of that abandoned bomb shelter.” “Got it.”

Oscar pressed his face against the window so that his nose was snow-white. He looked at the trees, and their leaves fell off. Their branches formed crosses and the clouds began to turn red. The clouds dripped a red liquid down onto the ground which grew plants. Oscar exclaimed, “Look at that!” “What is it? Show me.” They pulled over. Brian grinned. In real life, there were actually no blood plants and no crossed trees and no out-of-ordinary clouds.

The driver got out a knife. Oscar said, “This is weird. What do you think it is?” “I think… you’re one of them.” “One of who? Is it those Mexican guys who go around stealing earlobes? Because I have nothing to do with them.” “You’re one of the cursed ones.” “Huh?”

PART 4 …PLACEHOLDER ARC

The moment there was a flash of light, there was nothing.

The moment there was a vision, there was simple, plain, wandering blindness.

The moment there were bleeding vines, there was then a road.

Oscar was running down this road, covered in his own blood once again.

He ran into a Glundenheisten (grocery store) and started looking for scissors, a staple gun, matches, or anything else that could be used to fight Brian.

He lit a match but dropped it in the corner, five boxes of wafers now engulfed in flames. He was still looking for a blade of any kind and not acknowledging the safety hazard two feet away from himself.

That’s when an alarm went off in the building.

Policemen ran in and told everyone to find shelter. Konnor ran to Oscar and shouted in the midst of all the noise, “Why did you run away?!”

“The trees were telling me to!”

Konnor was enraged at this.

“You’re insane! The trees did not tell you to run away!”

“They did, too!”

“That doesn’t matter. We have to get OUT of here! Come on!”

“What’s all the commotion about, anyways?”

“A nuclear bomb is being fired at us!”

Oscar, who’d never seen or heard of a nuclear bomb, gazed in amazement out of the window, surrounded by chaos and fire.

“Huh,” he mumbled to himself.

“Will you look at that…”

———

GENERATION II

PRELUDE …AWAKEN, DARLING

Welcome to September 1945, the perfect time of the year to live in America.

Just warm enough, orange trees, kids playing in the park, people waking up from comas…

Two who fell under this category were Konnor and Oscar, your favourite apocalyptic survivors.

I know what you must be thinking. Apocalyptic? What am I talking about?

You’ll see.

After this, there’s only one more generation, by the way, and then something really wild happens.

Beep, beep, beep.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

Beep beep beep beep.

BeepBeepBeepBeBeBeepBeBeBeBeep.

BeeBeeBeeBeeBeeB-B-B-B-B-Beeeep.

The same way the hospital machines frantically press when heartbeats become faster, Konnor and Oscar jolted to consciousness in their beds.

“What year is this?”

“1945, sir.”

“We time travelled two years in the future?” Oscar didn’t know what to think.

“Only two? This sucks,” said Konnor.

The doctor said, “You didn’t miss anything. The war kept on going until a couple days ago.”

There was a note on their bedsides, it said, “BUSTERBLORG IS COMING”.

“Where are we?”

“Las Vegas, Nevada.”

“Oh. Well, we should be getting back now.”

“Back to where?” asked Konnor.

“Germany, of course!”

“And what business do we have there?” “Getting back our things, or at least the things that haven’t exploded anyways!”

“I’m pretty sure our cave will be covered in mould by now.”

“What about Buster?”

“What about him?”

“He was a robot! He could’ve sent the nukes!”

“Nuclear Bombs, and he’s probably been in the garbage disposal for a while now,” said Konnor confidently.

“Recycle, and he’s probably been after us for quite some time now,” said Oscar bitchily.

They got out of their beds, had their equipment taken off, and signed their checks as Johnny and Bobby.

PART 5 …DON’T BELIEVE IN YOURSELF

Jonathan and Carlo were people.

Okay… uh.. Good people or bad people?

Oh, yeah, I’ll tell you that later.

Jonathan was from Holland, an interesting place to be at the time. He was raised by loving parents who always stood side by side but one of them disappeared one day so Jonathan left to embark on a journey trying to find his mom and the phone charger she took with her. (Yes, I know, 1945, “at least be true to your own story”, okay, fine.) Jonathan met an older friend, Ray, they called him, and he owned a smoke shop. Carlo was born to a loving household in the Islands, out of which he got adopted because they couldn’t afford him anymore. He was then raised by somewhat strict French-Dutch parents who didn’t see him often. He ran away and started living behind a smoke shop, where Jonathan found him and they became friends who would sometimes buy eachother food and protect each other from the mobs.

They started to travel Europe and try and find a safe place to stay.

One day in Germany, Jonathan saw a rusty gate surrounding a torn building that said “Do Not Trespass! BND Only.” Jonathan trespassed, not being BND, just to see what the big deal was about an old building. What could be the matter?

He thought he saw something move in the ground. Its spikes poked out of the ground as it slithered like a snake, smoothly through the dry dirt. The dirt crumbled into rocks and clumps.

Oh, but this wasn’t a snake. It roared in his face, showing its terrifying fangs and eyes. He didn’t know what this thing was! He screamed and tried to run, but he tripped and fell.

He heard something else coming from inside the building.

He got up.

He then saw a humanoid shadow run away from behind the building.

He grabbed his camera and took pictures of the giant slithering creature and the shadow-like silhouette.

He ran away back home and told Carlo all about it, who told the newspapers.

Konnor and Oscar always checked the newspapers at the 99-cent Depot (there were no Glundenheistens in Las Vegas) in case Leon or Busterblorg showed up and they had to make a run for it. Konnor noticed an article about cases of strange, mutated animal sightings surrounding the 1941 Europe pandemic. There were theories of radiation. He told Oscar. They both knew they had to go back to Germany. This was not over.

———

Their cave had been mostly cleared out.

There was still the pot that was used to make potions, even though it was a tiny bit warped.

There was a bow-arrow and a sword on the ground, a couple other not-important things, as well as a note.

It read, “BUSTERBLORG HAS RISEN”.

———

Oscar - Memory 1

Underwater, Oscar felt stinging all over.

He didn’t know what was stinging him.

The place was completely empty, and it was a bit eerie to him.

He swam down to a house and what he thought could be shelter.

The door was open.

He saw pictures.

Pictures everywhere.

Oscar picked up one displaying a mom and a dad and two kids.

The mom’s face was carved out, as well as both the kids’.

The dad looked somewhat unhappy in the picture, even though they were at the beach.

Did he not like the waves?

Was he upset by the trees?

Was he angry at his delicious drink?

Perhaps.

Or, perhaps, he was in an unhappy marriage.

Maybe the mother got custody of both the kids, so their faces got carved out too.

Or the kids and the parents had a falling out too big to repair.

A good situation made bad.

Of course, Oscar didn’t know that this was a family, that there were other people at all, because it could have been random spots carved out of the photograph.

All he saw was a picture of an unhappy man.

Oscar pitied the man and brought the man everywhere with him. He gave the lonely man the gift of company.

But the man was still unhappy.

Oscar hugged the man and complimented him and made him a hat.

But the man was still unhappy.

Oscar was tired of this man not smiling so he stomped on the picture, the glass shattering into millions of pieces and shards.

The man was now smiling.

———

Konnor and Oscar, who just happened to be dressed in black, filled a bag with their things.

Three knocks were heard on their door.

They looked at each other.

“Oh, no.”

They opened the door to see younger Jonathan and Carlo standing there.

“We were forced to!”, exclaimed Oscar.

“Yeah! By the government!”, said Konnor.

“Well, we are the government,” said Jonathan.

Carlo gave him a look and said, “What? Excuse Jonathan, uh, we’re not. But if you are taking their stuff, we would like their potion book.”

“P-potion book?” Oscar had been thrown sideways by this request.

Konnor, still collected, said, “Okay, but I and my friend must talk. Sorry, just a moment, please!” Konnor then abruptly slammed the door.

It was clearly audible what they were saying.

“OSCAR! No! NOOO!”

“Whatever happens, we have to stick together!”

“What do we do?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Your book, your choice!”

“Your fuck, your shit!”

“Uh?”

“Okay. …Let’s grab this…” “What are you doing?”

“Barricading the door.”

Jonathan, trying not to laugh, put his ear up to the door as Carlo said, “Why are you barricading? We’re not government, promise, okay?” “Sorry! No cook book for you! Sorry, Jonathan or whatever you said your name was!” “Yeah, it’s Jonathan!” “I’m Carlo, by the way.” Carlo reminded Konnor of himself, so he thought he could talk some sense into him. “Okay.. Konnor, how do we know we can trust you with our book?” “Because I’m Carlo Agouza. Headline of Vegas News.” Osczr was shocked, but also was angry at himself for not realizing this. “Uhhh… what are you doing here?”

“I know about your whole situation with the Spaßzeit building, and I know you have something to do with the… well, that.”

———

The two opened the door and they all sat down.

“So, why do you need my recipes?”

“Well, Jonathan and I are going to try to do two things:

Uncover the radiation mystery and make ourselves immortal.”

“Why, though? I get it about the radiation thing, but why do you need to be immortal?”

“Because we need to live long enough to see the end of the Cancer of Videt.”

“Cancer of Videt?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story, but when the time comes, we will be there to kill the Cancer. It’s a curse that is carried through not just rogue body cells, but rogue life.”

“Wow,” said Konnor. “We might have some experience with that.”

“Great,” said Carlo.

“How did you find us, though?”

“Well, it’s a lot of digging.

Jonathan and I did our homework. You used to be the spokesperson of Spaßzeit. Then, we found that, by the time the Lockdown had ended, you had disappeared.

We then traced you to the ‘43 explosion through a spy named Brian Hopkins, and that you were flown into Canada by a soldier because German hospitals need home addresses and you were living in a cave. No caves in a ten-mile vicinity of that old Glundenheisten exist besides this one.

We believe his mother’s been taken by this curse and that the entirety of Europe, especially this town, has also been plagued by this curse.

We need your help to destroy this Cancer.”

Oscar and Konnor looked at each other and nodded. Konnor spoke.

“Well, here’s what we think. We need your help, you need our recipe. If you can work with us on our radiation project, we can be your supplier of all things Videt.”

PART 6 …A NEW PLACE

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

Oscar only saw Brian.

Carlo was smiling.

Carlo was laughing.

Carlo was holding Oscar’s head.

Oscar’s body had been left on the ground.

Konnor was sitting there with a giant hole in his stomach.

He was yelling at someone, like they were in a fight. Maybe he was angry at Jonathan, who was running out the door.

Then, Oscar’s head started to regurgitate blood. Blood was thick and bright red.

Things started to go dark.

Then, he woke up.

Konnor was brewing some coffee.

Lately, it seemed that things were looking up.

Despite Oscar’s visions, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, and he just shrugged it off.

Nobody really knew why, maybe it was just the way the light came through the cracks in the stone, maybe it was that Konnor and Oscar’s party had expanded, maybe it was that now they all had a common goal, a purpose.

Also, recently, Oscar had turned sixteen (fourteen if you don’t count the coma).

Later this week, they were going to set out to Keystone Hollows, a small and peaceful Sicilian village just by the bay, because that is supposedly where Brian went. And they’d had a lot of questions for him.

They had started packing their things.

They each had an individual backpack to take with them, and a small ice box that they would fill with snacks.

Konnor’s backpack had inside a first-aid kit that Carlo lent him, clothes, a compass, a dagger, and a bottle of water.

Oscar’s backpack had inside an axe, a wool blanket, a jar of change, a notepad, a rock, clothes, and a bottle of water.

Jonathan’s backpack had inside a bow and arrow, a candle, a lighter, a packet of money, and two bottles of water.

Carlo’s backpack had inside a notepad, two pens, sunglasses, and some seeds.

On Sunday, they began their expedition. They put up a defense system containing extremely potent poison that Konnor and Oscar made, a tripwire that Jonathan just had lying around, and a lot of cardboard.

———

Konnor - Memory 1

“In Ordnung Junge! Dies ist Ihre Zeit zu glänzen!” Leon assured Konnor’s confidence.

Konnor smiled nervously as the camera began to zoom in on him. He didn’t particularly like being on camera, but he understood that his work was valuable and his family would get paid in return.

He began to speak his lines.

“Hallo, ich bin Konnor. Meine Eltern schenkten mir ein Spaßzeit-Spielzeug aus echter, gereinigter Menschenhaut! Ich spiele damit und habe so viel Spaß mit der neuen Technik.

Holen Sie sich unsere Nazi-Hitler-Spielzeuge für nur RM 1 bei Ihrem örtlichen Glundenheisten!”

Kinder, lernt jetzt fluchen! Mach deine Eltern wütend!”

The brothers were so happy, they hugged Konnor. They gave him a dagger for him to remember them by. He kept it for the rest of his life.

———

They traveled via hitch-hiking, an experience that Konnor had to hold Oscar’s hand through.

It wasn’t a very long ride, since they were just going through Switzerland to Italy, but it was very scenic and they enjoyed the trip.

Then, they just had to deal with the over-sea journey. They didn’t have the money for a flight, and they were in a rural area.

The group took a rowboat across the vast 20-degree water.

They landed safely on the outskirts of Keystone Hollows, southwest Sicily, just by the ocean.

Something about this place was familiar to Oscar.

———

Konnor - Memory 2

“We’re going to be fine, Konnor.”

“Don’t worry, Konnor.”

Konnor gazed at the steaming pile of crashed cars on the narrow bridge highway.

Konnor’s mother suddenly screamed. His father was shouting swear words.

Suddenly, the car was dangling off a bridge. Konnor had almost pure adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

His father told him to climb and that he would be okay.

He climbed up and got back on the highway.

He, shivering, followed the cars and planned to find the nearest shelter.

After a few hours, Konnor spotted a shelter, but when he got to the front door, his parents weren’t behind him like he expected them to be.

———

Monday, October 1st, 1945.

Radiation had spread to parts of Spain. It was all over the news. It had been declared an epidemic.

Of course, Konnor, Oscar, Jonathan, and Carlo weren’t hearing of this, because they were in Keystone Hollows, a small Sicilian village.

They built a chest with their weapons and blades.

Oscar also made some sort of tool that he didn’t name, using mainly Jonathan’s stuff. He didn’t use it for the rest of that trip, but kept it in his pocket no matter what. Now, back to navigation.

You look east, you see a gravel road and a sandy town, way out in the hills, and past it, the idyllic grassy meadow, the trees slung with foreign decorations.

You look west, you see the vast, seemingly endless ocean, and some sort of rusty boat and abandoned dock not far off the shore.

Something about that boat looked awfully familiar to Oscar. He wanted to go see it, but they would have to do that later. For now, they had to go through the grassy meadow, into the Greater Mountains where, supposedly, Brian lived.

———

Oscar - Memory 2

Suddenly, as Oscar stared slack-jawed at the ship, everything turned more vibrant and colorful, as if through the lens of a toddler’s vision.

The ship returned to its old, beautiful, sparkling, majestic state. Where some old rotting piles of wood stood began to grow some small buildings. Shelters, perhaps.

Oscar began to spectate himself walking towards it. The place was beautiful on the inside. Everyone was friendly there, and he had a lot of friends.

an v oi

———

The four walked into the main village, Konnor and Oscar dragging the ice box.

It was a pretty place, but there wasn’t much to see, given that it was rural and small.

The first thing they saw was a parrot on an oddly placed branch, no tree to be seen. The branch was dug into the sand.

The parrot said nothing but, “Go no further! Go no further!”

They eventually found a shelter to stay.

They left their ice chest there, and decided to come back every day before sundown.

Oscar was silent the whole time, as residents looked curiously at him and the rest of Konnor’s party.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Carlo grew a blank stare and started to walk out. Konnor and Jonathan followed him, not knowing what was happening.

One of the residents had told Carlo exactly where Brian was, in exchange for half of their money. They now had $5.30.

Meanwhile, Oscar stood still, frozen by the haunted atmosphere of the building.

———

Ding-dong.

Ding-ding-dong.

DingDingDingDing-dong ggg.

DiDiDiDiDiDidi—dong.

A man wearing a suit and a moustache came and answered the door.

Confused, Konnor explained, “We’re looking for Brian…Brian?”

“Brian, the old owner of this house? I think he must be 20 now.”

“Then who are you?”

“I’m Lorenzo Adams.”

“Lorenzo? This isn’t our dude. C’mon, guys.”

“Hold-Hold on!”

“What, Lorenzo?”

“Have I seen you somewhere?”

Lorenzo pointed at Carlo.

“I’m Carlo Ago-“

“Oh my, Dio! My cousin Leronza lives in Nevada! She mailed me this crazy newspaper about things happening in France and Germany and Hungary- I- Well, I think I might be able to help you. But it depends on what it is that you are seeking…”

———

Oscar woke up on some leaves in the woods at midnight. It had been two weeks since the encounter with Lorenzo or…whatever his name was. He noticed that the leaves below him were blood red. He looked again at his hands. They were also blood red.

Blood was dripping down his front.

He then looked around him. He could feel the trees looking at him. They told him it would be best to go and leave the woods behind. He said no this time, as he had become curious what they were driving him away from.

He began to walk over behind the trees.

He suddenly felt something on his right leg. He reached down and felt it.

It was a pair of freezing cold hands.

Oscar got dragged down to the dirt.

He looked up and saw Brian’s face.

Except it was pale and gaunt, and it had bite marks on it.

Brian, almost turquoise a shell, made two very shallow, rattling breaths. He then ceased to breathe.

Oscar tried to wake him up or see if he was still alive but to no avail.

Oscar walked out onto the road.

There was nothing on it. There was, in fact, barely a road. The road was covered only in cobwebs and further darkness around the corner.

He tripped on something and fell backwards, hitting his head and blacking out.

———

“So, Lorenzo, grace us with your intellect.”

“Well, you see, I used to be a scientist at this place… Draagen Facility, we called it, but no one ever knew the real name, just the address.

We would experiment with nuclear radiation, early atom explosives, all the dangerous materials.

Once, we tested male rats in a small environment riddled with nuclear radiation.

One of the twelve Ratten survived, but had clear physical changes—if not injuries.

Also, we put three plants in that small environment. One of them grew. We called that plant something.”

“What was the plant called?”

“I… can’t remember.”

Suddenly, the door slammed, as if one of the boys pushed it. None of them did.

Konnor pulled it back open, even though it felt like someone on the other side was trying to hold it closed. They walked inside, and suddenly, instead of the aerial, wooden home filled with beautiful furniture, it was

cemented and packed with cobwebs. Everything was grey and rotten. There were maggots everywhere.

There was a pile of completely moldy tomatoes directly in the kitchen entrance. Jonathan walked further than Konnor and Carlo did, and saw that the Fernseher (television set) was on.

He sat on the floor silently and watched the alarm test that was being aired.

WARNING! PERICOLO! GEVAAR! DANGER!

Air quality has dropped to below the “red” level in these areas…

Please, all families and citizens, stay in the nearest shelter. There has been a recent explosion in your area and there has been a toxic air alert of 16.1 pCi/h. This is extremely dangerous to breathe or be unprotected in. Get all of your things and hide underground until further notice.

Various jarring alarm noises came from both outside and the Fernseher.

Carlo went running outside, going back to the shelter to warn Oscar.

He left his backpack, though, and Jonathan planted three trees. That was the last time Jonathan went outside for a long time.

PART 7 …BRIAN LUGOSI’S DEAD

Welcome to the wonderful Keystone Hollows — The place that you’ll never leave!

———

The group had returned to the cave, now more of a half-underground mansion hut, and hid cooped up in there in the midst of what might have been just a typical everyday nuclear apocalypse.

Carlo noticed that all his things are gone.

He didn’t use everything he brought, however.

Everything in the ice chest had been eaten.

There were just empty bags and cans left. It wasn’t like a crazy person had gone through it, though. It was very neatly done, as if by pressure. Each bag was popped in the lower-left corner, each can was just slightly opened, but the straw handle was perfectly in place.

Carlo assembled the bags all into place, so that all the seals were facing south.

They formed a drawing of two trees.

Carlo immediately ran outside of the cave.

He saw two plants growing out of the ground, in the left half of a small planter.

———

Oscar woke up in the cave.

He was trying to deny to himself that he woke up in the cave. He wanted to go back to the woods and find out what happened to Brian.

He then saw the amount of blood coming out of his head and put a wrapped gauze bandage on.

He fell asleep again.

———

March 20, 1946

They were living on tallow and some mysterious fruit that they were growing inside next to a light bulb. Carlo was feeling ill and had a migraine recently but didn’t complain too much because he didn’t want to kill the buzz of Konnor’s upcoming nineteenth birthday!

Konnor was an adult now, and this was an important thing to celebrate.

So you can imagine their confusion when a fog began to roll over Europe and the Fernseher that they had stolen from Keystone Hollows suddenly wasn’t working.

Oscar mainly took care of Carlo and fed him healing potions every now and then. He was good at keeping secrets, so he kept a lot of Carlo’s. By the way, Oscar still didn’t explain the ordeal of the woods or his bandage to them, but would disappear a lot to the woods to try to find him. There were no cobwebs. It was like there had never been any. In fact, he rarely ever talked to anyone besides Carlo.

Jonathan was starting to develop a theory that they had never left Keystone Hollows, as well as a much more likely theory that they had never actually left Germany.

Some possible incentives to think as such:

Ray, the owner of the smoke shop he lived behind, was called Lori by his friends.

Just like it would have been for Lorenzo.

That reminded him of the search for his mother and how off-track he had gotten trying to distract himself. Her name was Loretta.

Konnor was beginning to worry that this fog wouldn’t clear over before his birthday.

This was a strange situation, and Oscar and Carlo knew something the rest of them didn’t.

———

“No. No! No! NO!”

Oscar was digging around in the wood once again, for darkness and cobwebs and Brian’s body. None. Just a completely empty valley where the road was, and tulips growing where all the cobwebs were.

Spring. Spring. That’s why, that has to be why, he thought. Too many flowers, too many of something or other.

He had only been there before in fall and winter.

He wasn’t at all paying attention to the fact that he was searching these woods at one in the afternoon.

He was too busy worrying, burdened with Carlo’s secret.

Oscar was frantically digging in the leaves, getting teary-eyed. He just wanted an answer.

He suddenly felt dizzy, like he was on a boat.

That’s when the floor started moving.

Oscar looked east.

He saw a pile of leaves covered in sand and, past it, more woods, the trees slung in foreign decorations.

No! No, no, no, no! This can’t be it!

Oscar looked west.

He saw a creek past the tulips.

In that creek, there was an abandoned rusty old boat, half sunken.

Oscar was running towards it as if he were running for his own life.

Then, just as he was about to touch it, he tripped on Brian’s body and, hooked on it, fell right into the creek and quickly drowned.

Instantly, he woke up again in the cave.

He gasped for air as he noticed, in a split second, that he was back home.

Okay, this is some kind of cruel joke, isn’t it, thought Oscar. I refuse to engage and I will find answers!

I am going there and I am going to find Brian and I will force him, one way or another, to tell me everything.

———

Oscar saw a shadowy figure in the woods.

He started to chase it. Every turn it took was unexpected and he got slowed down. He picked up speed and was just about to grab it but he fell down into something.

Oscar woke up again in the cave.

No, no, no!

Oscar went back to the woods.

He saw a shadowy figure in the woods.

He started to chase it. He remembered the route it took. He managed to grab it and jumped over the hole he fell into.

He pinned the figure against a tree.

What he saw was something undead. It growled at him. He held it down.

It snarled at him.

He held it down.

It opened its mouth wider than any human could do, and it screamed at him.

Oscar, frightened, jumped back, letting the monster go, and hit his something on something, falling backwards.

Oscar woke up in the cave again.

He went to the woods but this time he could not find the monster or the boat.

He looked at his wristwatch and the time had not changed by a second since the first time he went into the woods.

He noticed that every time he went into the woods he forgot another thing that happened.

———

Konnor looked down at Oscar, who had been caught attempting to bleed out on the kitchen floor again.

Oscar had been gone for a week with no explanation as to where he went. Carlo had gone missing as well, but he hadn’t reappeared yet.

Jonathan was busy baking Konnor’s birthday cake and decorating it.

He was stressed about Oscar and Carlo. What is going on with those two?

Oscar went silent for a half-year and disappeared for days.

Carlo went silent for a month and disappeared indefinitely.

When Oscar finally did return, he came unconscious.

This was a strange, strange situation.

Jonathan was now almost completely sure that there was some place that they never left. He wasn’t sure where it was, though.

Oscar jolted awake suddenly, his mouth closed and dripping with blood.

He pointed at the entrance.

“What are you pointing at?”

PART 8 …SO, THEN, A WORMY THING

Oscar - Memory 3

Oscar sat, eating a dumpster frankfurter.

It was dark outside.

Suddenly, Oscar saw light, and heard a wail.

He thought the heavens had come down to Earth.

He thought he was dying.

He looked suspiciously at the frankfurter, which, in daylight, was actually covered in mould, and then looked back up again at the sound.

Then, he heard a voice screaming.

Then, there was an explosion.

Then, there was nothing.

Oscar got up. He walked towards the source of the explosion. He heard footsteps.

He then saw a flame. One flame, two flames, three flames, a considerable amount of sparks and smoke, then the building was on fire.

He saw something walk out of the building.

Then, another, smaller explosion.

Then, once again, there was nothing.

And then there was everything.

And then there was light.

Broad daylight.

Oscar lay in a pile of ashes and asbestos.

He got up and dusted himself off.

He heard a horn.

He saw a boat sailing away.

———

“Hello…” “Jonathan, did you invite this woman?” “No..”

An elderly lady stood at the door, leaning on a beaten wooden cane.

The old lady showed herself the way inside.

“Boys, I have very crucial advice for you!”

“What?!”

“Don’t mess with radiation. It is very bad for your health. And we wouldn’t want you going and dying, would we?”

“Wait, how do you know us, again?” “Heartworms.” “I’m sorry?”

“He died of heartworms. The things sick dogs get. Karl died of heartworms. No one knows, except for the police, most of which are dead.”

“Hold on, how are you surviving the apocalypse as an elderly woman?”

“Why, I was born in the apocalypse.” “Excuse me?” “I was born in 1941.” “That wasn’t an apocalypse, that was a virus, like influenza.”

“No, I’m not sure you understand. I was born in 1941.”

“How could you be an elder if we, teenagers, are thrice as old as you are?!” “Well, actually, I’m nineteen today,” stated Konnor, confidently. “Well, technically, you’re seventeen today,” added Oscar with an additude. “Well, technically, shut up,” yelled Konnor. “Up yours, birthday boy,” growled Oscar.

The elderly woman was startled by their argument. Wait.

Where did the elderly woman go?

———

April 2, 1946

Jonathan woke up from a deep slumber.

That was a good night’s rest, he thought. Had to have been over 8 hours.

He glanced at his watch.

Oh. It actually had been over eight hours!

It had been nineteen days!

He didn’t remember anything about celebrating Konnor’s birthday but he remembers stabbing someone… Oh, no! Did he stab Konnor? Did he stab himself? Did he stab a stranger?

No, he thought as he observed the green blood on his knife. He walked further into the front room and noticed that their cave’s rocky floor had been uplifted by something cylindrical.

Hooooooold on a second.

He remembered a dragon of some kind.

This was the breaking point for Jonathan.

There is something wrong with this cave, he thought.

And then, as he looked up towards the ceiling, he saw someone (not Oscar, Konnor, or Marco, but a stranger) hanging on the drying rack.

Okay, that’s it, I’m out of here, Jonathan thought. He started packing his things.

“I’m gonna go find Mom.”

By now, he had almost completely forgotten that Marco ever existed, so that was useless by now.

He walked out of the cave, leaving behind that chapter of his life. He had given up on ending the Curse, he had given up on life in Germany. He was finally heading home.

———

Now, it had gone back to just Konnor and Oscar, but now, instead of defending themselves during a time of corrupt government, they were defending themselves during a time of no government whatsoever.

It was April 18th when they awoke.

Carlo and Jonathan were gone, and so were their things.

got up and looked down at a very pale Oscar. Right beside his head was an uplifted trail of blood-washed rock and stone. The entrance was open!

Who knew how much radiation the two could’ve been exposed to while they were asleep?!

Konnor looked down again at Oscar, who seemed to have gone back to sleep. He attempted to wake him up. Nothing worked. Also, in doing this, he noticed that Oscar’s skin felt quite cold.

Flies began to gather on Oscar’s skin. Konnor had to waft them off and keep Oscar warm.

He covered Oscar with blankets.

Konnor started to make some bean soup.

———

Oscar woke up.

He was alone. Everything was blurry.

What was this place? What was happening?

Surrounding him were four walls, each with two or three doors, all closed but one. And the open door led to nowhere.

He looked up, and he saw more doors on the ceiling, what looked like a reflection of the doors he was in the middle of. He tried walking up towards one of the doors and realized his body was sideways. He looked down at where he thought one of the walls were, and it was just the floor again.

Oscar looked behind his shoulder and saw the same wall of doors that he was facing. Then he noticed that his body was also facing that wall.

Had he even turned his head at all?

Where am I?

What kind of weird game is this?

He tried to open a door. It was locked.

He looked closely at the door. He blinked.

He realized he was looking at his hand.

He was now, once again, in the middle of the room.

Oscar started to panic.

He ran over to another door. It was also locked.

He tried to escape, but wherever he went would lead him to the exact same spot.

He tried to open another door.

He pulled with all his weight and was sent flying.

He noticed the door was now opened wide and that a vague shape of some smaller person was walking into the room.

There Oscar stood, staring at a 12-year-old Oscar.

Neither of them knew what to say.

———

Konnor would check on the plants every other day or so, just to make sure it was still growing.

He was beginning to wonder if he was losing his mind. Where was everybody? How was Oscar still able to take a nap?

It felt like Konnor’s life was at a standstill.

He could stay here at the cave with Oscar, who was more or less dead, or he could move on and get a life and try to save the world and be the hero. But he couldn’t do that if he had waters to plant and a care to take friend of and a giant food of supply, could he!

No one knew that he was alive.

And he didn’t know that anyone else was alive.

His entire life was now a leap of faith that, somewhere out there, there was a good samaritan. Someone that knew about him.

They’d better come fast, because Konnor was starting to see two of everything.

———

“Un-fucking-canny,” mumbled Oscar as he looked at every angle and every scar of his old self.

“What happens to me?” “What do you mean?” “If you’re me, you’d know. In the future, how do I go from me to you?” “I- I guess you don’t.” “What?” “If I’m dead and I’m seeing you, then you’re dead.” “No… I’m not. I can’t be. I can’t die at twelve!”

“No. Listen to me. Get out of Germany now.” “Why should I trust you? What if this is just another broken delusion?”

“No, I’m trying to warn you! You need to leave Germany as soon as possible! You are going to die!”

“But-“ stuttered the younger Oscar,

“If I leave, then you die.”

“No! You don’t understand! I’m dead because you stayed in Germany. You’ve got to get out of here now. Turn back.” “But if I left then you would never exist.”

This stopped Oscar in his tracks.

“Oh. You’re right..”

“You know what? This is a stupid trap! You’re not me!”

Oscar was trying to explain to him to leave, but he kept realizing that no matter what Young Oscar did, Oscar would end up dead.

It was like Death had Oscar in a checkmate.

“But wait!”

“There’s no worth waiting for you. I hate you.”

Oscar’s eyes welled up with tears.

“No! We have to stay here! I’m real! I’m you!”

“You’re no person. You’re just a curse.”

———

“Konnor? Is that you?”

A deranged-looking Oscar, covered in blood and rotting pieces of flesh, got up and hugged Konnor. “Yes, Oscar. I’m here for you. You were asleep for a couple hours,” giggled a dirt-covered, limping Konnor.

He pointed at the ceiling, just above a wall that had black scribbles on it.

“MONDAY TUESDAY WHENSDAY THURSDAY FRIDAY THIRSDAY EIGHTDAY ONEDAA ONEDA OADANDA”.

Oscar looked behind Konnor at a giant pile of shriveled fruit and discolored soup.

There were maggots and flies everywhere.

“Konnor…” “What is it, you guys?” “I really messed up.” “Me too.” “No, like, I messed up really bad.”

“Well, let’s hope the sleep midgets don’t punish you.” “What?” “I’m so glad to see you. We’ll get through it.” “Merry Christmas,” said Oscar on this 1st of May as they embraced each other.

This was actually not the lowest point in either of their lives (see: Konnor became an orphan and Oscar was homeless in the winter), but it came very close.

———

“What did we get beat by?” “I don’t know. I remember an old lady and then I remember someone killing her and transplanting into this wormy thing.” “So, then, a wormy thing?” The two were dressed and clean now, but neither of them were all the way mentally stable, and the cave still smelled like beans and rotten apples.

“When was Christmas again?” “I have no idea.”

Oscar went to sit down and he took one of the rocks growing off of a branch of their plants and dropped it in some acidic bean soup.

It sizzled and let off steam. It smelled nice, like roses. He studied it with a microscope and poured it all out into a bucket that he dumped onto the plants. The plants immediately started to look different, but neither of them paid attention.

Outside was starting to look more like it did, but they still kept an up-to-date map about areas with more radiation than others.

Konnor was noticing that he had a headache, and so did Oscar. Neither of them knew why.

———

GENERATION III

PART 9 …START AT THE BEGINNING OF THE END, MY FRIEND

———

Some time in the mid-late 1940’s;

X-rays had finally come to underground post-apocalyptic Germany, so Konnor and Oscar were able to finally get a good diagnosis.

It was a somewhat cold summer, given that the ozone layer had been completely shattered and who knows what that could have led to.

Konnor and Oscar walked up to the Krankenhaus to finally get tested to see whatever this was.

It was a miracle, they said.

A miracle about what?

“A miracle that you’ve lived this long.”

What?!

“You have tumors.”

Oscar and Konnor had gotten diagnosed with brain cancer for being exposed to too much radiation.

Neither of them knew exactly what this meant, but it was scary for sure.

Oscar still hadn’t told Konnor that he was a curse — that their bond was a curse — and he wasn’t sure when he was going to.

The two climbed out of the underground Krankenhaus, worried and confused.

Was this the beginning of the downfall of Oscar and Konnor?

Well, only time will tell. But, I must say, things are gonna get really interesting.

———

Konnor had a plan.

He knew now how everything was gonna go down. It wasn’t all sunshine and flowers, either.

Oscar was planning to tell him about what happened in the room of doors.

He was now completely sure that they were dying because he killed his younger self.

That had to be why this is all happening.

If his younger self was dead, both of them would be dead. Their lives had to go exactly the way they did, or neither of them would’ve been alive.

And they were now desperately trying to track down the monsters that attacked them before, because Konnor was sure that these things were the curse. As you well know, though, having seen all sides of the story…

———

With every stroke of the brush, Oscar’s art got more beautiful.

He was painting a butterfly.

It was a blue butterfly.

He put his arm around to reach for a different brush, and instead of what he was looking for, he felt cold faux leather.

He reached behind himself again, just to feel the same material, what seemed to be a shoe.

Oscar turned around in panic, only to find that he was at his own funeral.

He got up from his chair and, shaking, stared silently at his own dead body.

Konnor stood at Oscar’s coffin alongside others, shaking his head.

Oscar wandered the room, looking at everyone who was attending.

He saw the faces of Carlo, Jonathan, Michael, Leon, and he paced further to see a collection of strangers, the doctors that had diagnosed him, and the thing that shook him the most, his parents were standing at the foot of his corpse.

How were his parents here?

He had no parents!

Parents were supposed to be mean and selfish and unforgiving!

He didn’t even know what his mother or father looked like. How could they appear in this sick dream?

How would they know their son, who they probably never touched, died of a brain tumor? This was when Oscar walked up further.

He discovered that a brain tumor was actually not the cause of death.

Oscar’s dead body had been stabbed in the heart several times.

“It all makes sense now,” said Oscar coldly to himself. He tried to signal to everyone that he was there and, in fact, alive but the people attending didn’t seem to notice or care.

“I was the curse of Alkam, and Jonathan and Konnor finally killed me.

So… what, now?”

———

PART 10 …I DIDN’T THINK I WAS GONNA GET THIS FAR

You’ve read this far, you must like this story. Do you like it enough to keep reading, or does this feel like a fit time to end your journey? It is up to you.

In the event that you choose to keep reading past this little checkpoint, I think you’ll find that the remainder of your time with us here in post-apoctalyptic Nazi Germany is more carelessly written than the previous few parts. Consider everything from now on bonus content if you’d like.

———

Oscar finally confronted Konnor one autumn morning.

“Remember John an-an’ Carlo?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“They… kind of killed me.”

“What?! Blasphemy! What, are you stupid? If you were dead I wouldn’t be talking to you right now!”

“No. Konnor, listen. They killed me.” “Whatever. And?”

“I was the thing they killed.” “Okay, now you’re just repeat- you’re just rephrasing youself. Tell me what happened.”

“I was the thing I killed.”

“Explain, please.” “I… was… the thing… that they lived… to kill.”

“Yes? …And?!”

“I was… the curse.”

“The- ha!- the curse of what?”

“I… am… the curse.”

“You’re the reason Germany’s an ashtray?!”

“Konnor.”

“Are you the reason I don’t remember what my family looks like?

Do you know how awful it is to not remember what your family looks like?!”

“I was stabbed in the heart! It weren’t no toothpick, either! You were alive! You were alive and well! I wasn’t!”

“It was a mistake to ever meet you or move in with you into this cursed death-pit.”

“The first thing I ever saw was a boat! That boat sank! We read about that boat in the news! I should’ve known then! My first bed I ever slept on was shared with an inmate who was known for murdering children! I lived in a poor kingdom where we were treated like slaves and then when I finally escaped I lived with someone who died within a year of having me!”

“I’m leaving!”

“Please do, do leave! I’m going to do nothing but harm you.”

“Well, that is obvious.”

Konnor swiftly grabbed all of his possessions and slammed the cave entrance on his way out.

Oscar began taking down the boards that he had used to block off the old part of the kitchen.

———

PART 11

———

1948 was a strange year so far.

Well, of course. After all, it was Konnor’s and especially Oscar’s first time living completely alone in years, except this time, he had a home to take care of.

It was also Oscar’s first time living as a dead person, believe it or not.

He still wasn’t entirely sure who killed him, Jonathan and Carlo or himself. Imagine if he was dead because of the Room of Doors incident.

Strange autopsy that would be, don’t you think, suicide by homicide?

The fifties were approaching and the remainder of the government had already built up an entire faux Europe; the one that the world lovingly knows today. They had already killed everyone that knew about what happened, or so they thought, and the last flight from Original Europe was leaving for New York. (unnamed) had boarded that plane. Oscar’s ex-roommate.

Even though it had only been a month or two since (unnamed) had left, Oscar had forgotten what his name was.

Oscar didn’t have to worry about his brain tumor because it was indefinitely terminal at this point, but he still had his moment of nervousness and anxiousness.

Wait, when did Oscar grow a tumor?

Anyways, he was planning to kill a monster later this week at the canyon. For now, he planned on making life potions, ones that cost the most resources. Luckily, he had (dying) plants outside and he was living in a cave about half a mile away from the mountains, where all sorts of things lived and grew. But he didn’t need those resources, because he wasn’t planning on making potions any time soon.

sWAIT!

———

Konnor had quickly gotten used to the bustling nature of Albany, New York. He had gotten a job as a bartender. He was planning to buy an apartment where he could start to write papers so he could quit his job at the bar and become a businessman, hopefully in Senate. Sometimes he missed his old life with Oscar, when things were simpler, but he knew that a freer life in America was worth it. However:

He did not take into consideration that, in order to apply for Senate, he would have to state his hometown, and according to every map being produced from that time on, that town never existed, only “List” which was in its place.

———

Oscar held out his knife against the creature, who had shapeshifted from a humanoid animal to a dizzyingly gigantic mutated earthworm.

This was the beast that had nearly killed him before? Interesting.

Oscar, filled with rage, swung his blade against the pattern of the beast’s scales, leaving a bleeding gash in its side.

The giant spiked heartworm burrowed underground and rose back up, lifting Oscar into the air.

As he was flying directly above the thing’s mouth, he realized he had bitten off far more than he could chew.

The beast jumped up and, just as it was about to bite off Oscar’s leg, he ran on the area below its mouth, using it as a floor. He jumped down below onto the ground. He landed on his feet.

An earthquake happened all at once, shattering the ground. Oscar, standing on a falling fragment of the ground, jumped and threw his blade at its eyes. He missed and his knife landed directly into its mouth. It choked on the sword as it had dragged itself down its throat horizontally, cutting open the tissue to drain out blood and pieces of entrails.

Oscar thought he killed it. He tried to climb back up. The heartworm had successfully eaten his knife, however, and slithered towards him in all of its wrath.

It dove down into the hole he was in.

That’s when his vision went completely black.

———

Oscar woke up, almost drowning in a sea of red water filling up the canyon.

He swam up to the top in a panic, and accidentally swallowed some of it.

He saw the creature laying dead on its back.

It had drowned in its own blood.

Oscar was both happy and also scared… and… a little cold, if I’m being honest.

It started to hail outside.

Now, hear me out. Oscar might not survive.

He is swimming in infected, tar-like, frozen blood. There is a very little chance of him surviving this one.

I mean, c’mon, we’ve already intercepted his death like, what, 5 times, now. If he dies this time, there ain’t no savin’ that guy. Like, maybe it’s just meant to be!

———

Okay, it’s about time I did an arc with Jonathan. Plus, I type well enough now if I want to turn off autocorrect, so now there’s no excuse not to.

Alright. Carlo’s dead, so dear old Johnny boy went… where? Wait, lemme scroll back a second. So many backstories… yeesh…

…M’kay, found it.

So, Holland was a nice-ish place to be in the later 1940’s. They and Hungary were the only ones mostly not affected by the apocalypse, so their economy was amazing at that point.

However, Jonathan was more damaged and brooding than the other boys there, who were mainly just playing games all the time; that is, when they weren’t in school.

One day, as he was checking another street for his family, he met a boy named Johannes (Dutch for Jonathan; they literally had the same name) who was having a hard time with school but wanted to learn so badly after the war and such.

They had a conversation and Jonathan found that a lot of the struggles Johannes had with school were the same ones Jonathan was having with his search. It was hard; he could barely keep up with all that was happening but this was so important to him; etcetera.

The two eventually became friends, creating a complicated dilemma. Our dear old Jonathan didn’t want to leave the warm company of Johannes, but he also didn’t want to get sidetracked on his journey for another five years.

And don’t go trying to jarringly interrupt this part, because it’s not going to

PART 11 …A GOOD LOOK IN THE MIRROR

Now you’re all caught up with where our dear sweet Johnny boy is in his life and mostly perpetually will be,

we can continue with the rest of the story.

———

Oscar swam out of the dirty Aqua-Pack canyon very calmly and slowly, knowing (thinking) that he was, for sure, going to die because of Jonathan killing him. So this gave him a lot of liberty in whatever he did.

Regardless, Oscar was now back home in the cave.

He was silently awaiting the day our dear old sweet innocent Johnny boy would return.

What he really wanted to do was go try to find (unnamed) but he didn’t quite care enough, knowing that it would be near-impossible if he didn’t know the guy’s name.

So he stayed back and started mentally preparing and gearing himself for our dear old sweet innocent loving Johnny boy, angel boy. :)

———

After Konnor got rejected from government jobs, he had no choice but to go to “Europe”, except this time with no friends and no money.

Hot diggity dam.

———

Oscar, fully armed, had spent every day for weeks awaiting the return of Johnny Angel Boy Oh My Goodness He Is So Amazing Angelic Wonderful Dear Old Loving Sweet Kind Generous King Of Gratitude Savior Of The Universe.

But, instead of The One And Only Johnny Very Kindest God Soul Amazing Great Cool AngeOscar instead got Konnor in a ripped up, burnt top and dirty and stained jeans.

Oscar put a finger to (unnamed)’s mouth.

“Shhhh, sh-sh-sh-tsh-tsh-ttsssshhhhh.” “What is it?”

“Blink twice if Johnny’s behind you.” “Wha- why?!-“

“BLINK TWICE, GODDAMN IT!”

“I got cured.”

“What?!”

“I had a surgery in America. I’m tumor-free now. The surgery and radiation cured me. But then they banished me.”

“You didn’t even send a postcard! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because then I can do this,” said Konnor slowly before he rose like a shadow upon Oscar and stabbed him six times in the heart with an old dagger.

———

PART 12 …EPILOGUE

———

———

———

Berlin, Faux Germany, April 1965

Oscar walked along the grassy fields of Berlin. A bustling city it was indeed, but it never failed to preserve nature and wildlife.

The nuclear families and mass civilization never knew that Oscar had existed.

His life was of no importance to them.

They didn’t know the truth.

He didn’t care at this point. All of this, his whole journey through modern urban culture, was nothing but a cold reminder that nothing mattered anymore. No one would ever know.

When Oscar had awaken from the dead, the first thing he wondered was,

Where’s Konnor?

But Oscar soon learned that the Cancer had killed him.

That means there was no funeral.

Anyone out of the very small group who had known Oscar still probably thought that he was alive and well.

And the thing Oscar was most deeply terrified about was that he didn’t seem to really care.

He knew full well that he was destined to wander this city and watch it disintegrate until everything went to black and there was nothing to wander anymore.

Just nothingness.

And thank you for reading my confusing, poorly-plotted fairy tale about cancer in America.

——————

FIN

9/29/2020 - 5/23/2023

[daydreamerdrew]

anyway it’s so so important to me that Steve immediately loved Bucky. like as soon as Steve actually talked to him he was just so charmed and impressed. Bucky was in awe and eventually that evolved into a real relationship but he never fully got over his hero idealization. meanwhile Bucky was Steve’s favorite person in the whole world. that wasn’t grief-fueled revision after Bucky died. Steve was so happy that this was the guy he was gonna have by his side throughout the war. he was so entertained by Bucky. and Bucky feels that he has to hide parts of himself from Steve. little does he know that his place in Steve’s heart is secure. little does he realize that Steve’s feelings could be called Bucky having a place in Steve’s heart. but it’s complicated because I think that Steve would be genuinely shocked and find it hard to believe that Bucky was a troubled kid. like, he’s aware that Bucky doesn’t want to ever admit any weakness, he’s analytical enough about this to connect it to Bucky being raised in the military, but say if Steve was told that what first got Bucky into consideration to be his partner was that he kept getting into fights with other kids and demonstrated natural skill that way, I think Steve would default to assuming this was a minor thing and not an actual problem. I think that Bucky has some distant awareness of all this in the modern day, because Steve has been more open about his feelings since Bucky died so now this is a thing people know about, but he doesn’t like to think about it and assumes that it’s because of Steve mourning him for all those years and doesn’t realize it started before then. it’s uncomfortable for him. for example he chooses not to listen to Steve’s eulogy for him in Fear Itself (2010) #7.1 where Steve says nice things like that he’s proud of Bucky and that Bucky’s better than him. but significantly Steve would not just recognize this feeling as love immediately, he just strangely feels something so strongly for this kid that’s been selected to be his partner

[thequietones111]

I need an AU where Auror Harry accidentally time travels and ends up in Post-Grindelwald timeline where he sees Tom Riddle struggle after leaving Hogwarts and just generally observes how done Tom Riddle is with his scholarship debt, retail job and still going strong on his dark Lord stick and Harry is just like. "Yeah, I feel you." Cause his own time after the war just sucked and it is post WWII so its far from sunshine and rainbows and he just casually becomes an observer of Tom Riddle being self destructive and goes "Baby no. Let me show you how to cope." And casually mentors a literal snakepit with the patience of a god - or rather a washed up head auror who doesnt give a shit anymore. Like fuck you lady magic I'm not gonna do this all over again I'mma go and get drunk with that emotionally constipated twink that thinks he is big shit and let him have a good rage-crying fit whilst spoonfeeding him absinthe.

Yes I think I need that.