#and found out his first appearance is in chapter 50

[tchutomu]

so.

[sapphoherselz]

howdy!! two literal people have asked for some andreil rec so here they are!! my most favest fics EVER in the first 50 ao3 pages (I'll keep updating tho as I read!)

Not yours to bleed:

The Pros were never in the cards. Not for an ex-medicated alleged psychotic with a dysfunctional family and an Exy career he’d rather not have. But even if it wasn't his first choice, no matter what happens, it can’t possibly be worse than that one fucked up sophomore year when he stood toe to toe with the Yakuza-and won.

At least, that’s what Andrew thinks until a familiar face shows up.

Another Raven!Neil AU. Or, the one where the boys don’t meet until the Pros.

 

**Updates every other Wednesday, whatever hell may come.**

The Sun Still Rises:

Somewhere on the road, Mary Hatford gets pregnant with her second child. When she passes, she leaves behind not only Neil, but his toddler brother. Survival is difficult without also raising a kid. Worn out and desperate, Neil still somehow ends up at Palmetto, only this time, he brings his four-year-old brother with him.

TALE OF A MARTYR IN XII PARTS:

Neil closes his eyes and counts the things that he knows:

One: Death has a name.

Two: He has met Death before. Several times, in fact.

Three: Someone is trying to kill him. Permanently. But it's only kind of working.

Or, the one in which Andrew is the Grim Reaper, Neil is very, very good at dying, over and over and over again. They teach each other a few things over the centuries.

Hearthlines:

The Fae king and queens have gone away, closing the knowes behind them and abandoning their offspring to the mortal world. As the Fae have spread far and wide, their bloodlines thinning if not vanishing forever as they flee from mortal persecution... two Fae have found a way to reopen the knowes - Kayleigh Day and Tetsuji Moriyama. The Fae regroup once more, the balance of power shifted amongst them, and 'changelings' appear now and then in the mortal population.

Andrew Doe is one of those changelings, a young child suffering in the foster system, shunned by his peers for some reason and hearing voices in his head.

Alex - the latest name gifted to him by a charm - is on the run along with his mother from his father, using their talents as shadow walkers to slide between worlds and stay one step ahead of the powerful Fae. Except even that is not enough anymore. Except that's not Alex's only talent.

*******

An urban fantasy where I throw Fae, necromancy and magic at TFC characters, pretty much!

Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die):

Neil Josten goes to the Nest for Andrew, but he stays for a lot more.

~

"I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.

"For what kid?" Wymack shifted. "You've got to give me something to work with here."

Wymack watched the thin traces of sorrow as paper exchanged hands and he was looking down at a contract with the Edgar Allan Raven's.

"I signed them Coach, I'm sorry."

~

The one where Neil doesn't come back from Winter Break.

Amor Vincit Omnia:

“I said it already,” the man said, “Your cluster.”

“But what does that mean?” Neil asked.

“It means that you are no longer just you,” the man said tersely, “Congratulations.”

It didn’t feel like anything worth celebrating.

A Sense8 AU where the foxes all share one subconscious and kick a lot of ass

The Real Thing:

Andrew was more than willing to turn down the Ravens' offer to be their newest goalie, unwilling to play five more years of Exy - let alone for someone with a too-sharp smile and a manic gleam in their eyes.

That was, until he realized that a member of their Perfect Court was his soulmate. (That was, until Riko Moriyama realized that Nathaniel Wesninski, the Ravens' #3 in waiting, was Andrew's soulmate.)

Andrew always knew that Fate loved tormenting him, he didn't need a reminder yet again via a too-attractive soulmate who appeared to loathe him. Yet things aren't always what they seem, especially in the Nest.

mad girl says she's wolf-proof:

Keeping her grip light on Nina’s throat, Andrea drops her gaze to her plump lips. She smiles—coldly, slowly. Fangs on fangs. Salt tombstones. It is not a nice smile, none of Andrea’s smiles are, but Nina’s eyes are stuck in it regardless. “And I will answer, all the better to eat you with.”

 

(Andrea Dobson vs girlhood and lycanthropy.)

lessons in caretaking:

Neil was acting shifty, and Andrew knew why; that motherfucker was leaving. Despite the promise between them, Neil was prepping to run. Andrew wasn't upset about that, not at all. After all, if notorious Neil "No-Swing" Josten needed to leave after Andrew admitted his desires regarding his proximity to Neil's shorts, who was Andrew to stop him. But that doesn't explain why Neil was stealing socks, or why he wanted Andrew's clothes.

Whatever. That was probably unrelated.

Sauntering Vaguely Downwards:

They’ve known each other since the Beginning. Not the Beginning Beginning—they didn’t meet until after the War in Heaven, where they kept to their own sides, or until after the subsequent Fall. It wasn’t even until after the Exodus from Eden, but only by a couple minutes. They’ve witnessed the rise and fall of empires, sampled all the cuisines the world has to offer, and weathered several very silly fashion trends.

Andrew doesn’t think they’re friends, exactly, but it is natural to become accustomed to the presence of the only other being who has been around more or less consistently for six millennia. It wasn’t anything more meaningful than that.

A Good Omens AU where Andrew is a grumpy angel, Neil is a sharp-tongued serpent, and it takes them literally six thousand years to figure out they belong together.

[mikeyhyy]

After 30 years... (Ford × Male reader)part 1

This is Ford × Male Reader, this story takes place in the year the series takes place. The reader and Ford had a relationship, but it ended because of Bill (I can write a story explaining this part if you want). The reader is 50 years old, he was 20 when he met Ford.

I don't write for female readers so don't even try to ask if it's for a female reader.

ATTENTION: Chapter not revised

______________________________________________

How long has it been since you last seen Ford? 30 years? He just disappeared after the breakup and you don't know where he was, when you broke up it was a very strange breakup because Ford had a different voice and different colored eyes when he simply said he wanted to break up with you, but then they called you a few days ago and who had a female voice that sounded extremely excited and she said that Ford wanted to see you, but it sounded like a voice that was too young to be his wife or something. Now you are in front of the door of the 'Mystery Shack' is that the new name they gave it? Do you remember that Ford never commercialized his discoveries because that was not what he wanted.

You are currently in your fifties and you really are in the best state because you were only twenty when you dated Ford, you were young and naive and he scientist who lived in the isolated cabin in the forest. You actually found the whole mystery very attractive and he found you very attractive too so it came to that.

You only heard from Ford after the break up when you saw a newspaper headline showing him practically drunk in a bar, you realized he was with those same different eyes and decided to stop caring. But that didn't happen and you've been trying to hear from him for the last 30 years.

You squeeze the fabric of his jeans tightly and it feels like a lump has formed in your throat until you wait for a moment until you get the courage, you take a deep breath before finally opening the front door of the store and you enter the store.

Your eyes analyze the store for a moment, you see the absurd prices of strange things that if you have at least two neurons you realize are fake and it doesn't take long so that you heard an excited voice. "Are you the (name)?!" The girl with long brown hair halfway down her back, dressed in a skirt that was a little long to her knees and a very striking sweater, she had a smile on her face which showed her appearance. "Wow, Great uncle Ford was right when he said you're very handsome." The girl speaks again looking very excited, but the boy next to her stares at you even more curiously and he looked like a male version of her, but quieter and he had shorter hair, wore an orange t-shirt, dark blue vest, shorts up to the knee and a cap with a blue brim and blue sides with a blue pine tree.

"Yes, I'm (name)…" You say and put your hands in your pants pockets so as not to show that you're a little nervous, the girl asks you a billion questions and then you see the snack machine moving out of place and being pushed as if it were a door. The one who leaves there is the man who, even though he broke up with you years ago, never left your heart because he was your first love and you were the first love of his life and this is obvious because he drops whatever was in his heart. his hand the moment he sees you.

He looks at you from top to bottom, you've aged very well from his perspective, in fact from a general perspective, you still have a well-built body and your skin hasn't lost much collagen as it is normal for your age and you look so good.

But you can't help but look passionately at Ford, he doesn't look bad either and the gray hair makes him even more attractive in your opinion and he seemed to be in great condition physical. He has become even more handsome, it seems that time has only been good for him.

"(Name)…" Ford's voice sounds almost inaudible, he is so surprised, he runs his hand through his own gray hair with a slightly trembling hand and he can’t seem to believe you’re standing right in front of him after so many years. You look great, his heart beats fast when he looks at you and he can see in your eyes the man he has loved for years even if he has tried his best to forget you in the last few years in which he has passed through different dimensions.

Silence goes on for a few minutes before finally being cut off by the girl in the sweater. "So, it looks like you guys have a lot to talk about and the best way to talk alone is maybe to go out there or whatever older people do when they want a moment alone." She says and looks more thoughtful at the end as she scratches her own chin with a thoughtful expression.

Ford's cheeks get a little red and he motions for you to follow him to the basement because it's no secret to you what's there Inside, you follow him and when you enter he closes the 'door' and you go down the stairs to the bottom. As you go down you see those same screens, buttons and machines so you know that Ford is still the same Ford that you met years ago and won your heart.

(Continues in part 2…)

______________________________________________

I hope you liked it, my creativity ran out at the end and I decided to post a part two for their conversation.

[gojoidyll]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 12 | another simple beginning

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Warnings | short chapter, grammatical errors, etc.

Infinity Masterlist

“You think you’re funny, you damned Gojo?”

The sorcerer grinned at Sukuna whose mouth appeared on Itadori’s cheek, “very much so. Here we are in a new time and you’re stuck in a teenager’s body. She won’t ever look your way.”

“Gojo-sensei?”

He smiled when Itadori questioned him as to what he and Sukuna were possibly going on about, but the sorcerer merely shrugged with an aloof expression etching across his face, “who knows? I’m just entertaining him is all. Curses like Sukuna need to be entertained every once and awhile, you know?”

“Is that why you fought him when we first met?”

“Yeah … something like that.”

“You both did wonderful! Congrats on a mission well done!”

Gojo brought his attention forward, both him and Itadori went on a sort of solo training mission while Y/n took Fushiguro and Kugisaki on another. And afterwards, they all had agreed to meet at a particular restaurant in both in celebration for a job well done and for welcoming Y/n as a new teacher.

“Gojo, Itadori! I’m glad to see you both made it here safely.”

Gojo could feel how his heart swooned at the sight of her smile. His grin infectious as he reached for her, his hand gently patting her head, “please, a mission like that is but a simple one.”

“That so? Are all missions easy for you, Gojo?”

He found it adorable with how curious she was about him, it made him want to squish her cute cheeks. But he managed to refrain himself as they all entered the restaurant with him making sure that she stood right next to him.

“Of course they are, I am the strongest after all.”

“The strongest? Stronger than anyone then?”

“Anyone and everyone.”

“Even Sukuna?”

“Him too.”

She laughed as the waitress showed them there table, “it must be tiring, huh?”

As the three students sat on one side, he was sure to pull her to him so she would be sitting next to him. Though, he didn’t like how Itadori unconsciously sat in front of y/n on the other side. Must have been Sukuna’s doing.

“Tiring,” he questioned.

“Well… since you’re the strongest, you must always be called on missions, right? Isn’t that tiring?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, if you want, if you ever need a break or a vacation, then I would be happy to take on your missions for you,” she happily exclaimed while digging into her pocket and pulling out her jujutsu sorcerer card, “I am a special rank sorcerer after all!”

Marry me.

He shook his thoughts out before he could utter those words to her, and just as he opened his mouth to thank her, Itadori cut right into the conversation.

“A special grade?! But you look our age! How did you get to that rank already?!”

She laughed at that too, “I’m not that young, I’m actually 22.”

“That’s still young!”

She grinned and Gojo pouted while pointing to himself, “hey, I’m a special grade sorcerer too.”

“Oh, youre like what? 40?”

Gojo huffed at Itadori, “I’ll have you know I’m 28!”

“Close enough.”

“Kugisaki?!”

“I thought he was 50 when I first met him.”

“Not you too, Megumi!”

It was a good day. Everyone was laughing and poking fun at one another. No one would expect anything was wrong or that Gojo was planning to get rid of Sukuna in some way, shape, or form.

No one noticed how Sukuna kept his eyes on you either. A special grade sorcerer? A young woman trying to make it in the jujutsu world?

Seems like he’ll be able to keep an eye on you way easier than he originally thought.

Infinity Taglist | pls note that some i could not tag due to "no blogs found"

@whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix @zeniiis @rin1802 @mrowwww @kenstarsworld @bubera974 @littleplantofdeath @fangirl-332 @thaliadoesthings @hellsingalucard18 @tamaki-simp @obsessedwithfanfiction @babygivertyrant @carvelcakes

@itzmeme @nervouschocolatecat @aspiring-bookworm @babyorphanstastegood @lilacskyly @ilovethegold @mythicalsongbird

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 7

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger and I headed to our mission destination by train.

(We’re runaway lovers that wound up at the village after having nowhere to go)

…That’s what Victor’s having us pretend to be to hide our identities.

--

Roger: Because everyone in this village welcomed us so warmly, I was able to save my beloved girlfriend from starvation.

(What’s with the sudden change in speech and refreshing smile? Who are you?)*

Though relieved that we safely made our way into the village, I was thrown off by Roger’s sudden transformation.

Roger: Kate, we will happily settle in this village.

Kate: Y-yes. Let’s be happy here, R-Roger.

Roger kissed my cheek, making my fake smile even more awkward.

However, Roger’s convincing performance was a success and the villagers welcomed us with open arms, serving us welcoming meals one after another.

Woman of the village: You must have been nervous. You’ll stay safe in this village because our Spirit God gives protection to everything.

Man of the village: Ah, indeed! Those who believe in the Spirit God will be saved as he is the one who can ward off any disease.

Spirit God: …

The villagers beamed at a man sitting in the middle of the room who hadn’t said a word since we arrived.

(...This is the Spirit God)

(He looks around 50 years old? And looks like your average human)

However, as Fairytale Keeper who’s witnessed evil up close, I now understood.

A human’s outward appearance belied evil that dwelled in their heart.

(Even so, it seemed like stories of “disease being warded off” in this village were widely accepted)

(A mere human couldn’t possibly ward off disease. There had to be some kind of trick—)

Kate: Hm?

I felt a tug on my skirt and turned to see a little girl that looked around five years old standing there with a smile.

Blonde child: Is id nummy?

(Huh…her speech…? Maybe it’s because she’s still young?)

Kate: Yeah, it’s really delicious. Thank you.

When I thanked her, the girl smiled back happily.

This village was very peaceful and full of smiles.

It felt like a utopia where all things scary were removed.

—Unfortunately, there was no such thing in this world.

(Something’s up with this village)

--

Sometime after being welcomed by everyone, Roger and I finally found ourselves alone.

Roger: This village’s so fishy it’s laughable.

Kate: Yeah, I thought so too. This village…there’s something going on.

The Spirit God’s existence, in addition to some other sense of discomfort that I couldn’t put a name to.

Roger: Let’s hear your point of view first, lil’ lady.

Kate: If what Victor said about an undercover police being killed was true, Then the villagers wouldn’t be as welcoming to newcomers. It wouldn’t have been strange for them to turn us away. But they were all so friendly. While I don’t want to question their generosity, I think…we should keep our guard up.

(Maybe there was something hiding behind all those smiles…)

Roger: Yeah, I was thinking the same. What about you, Liam?

Kate: Huh, Liam?

(That’s right, Liam went ahead of us to gather intelligence…)

I looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.

Kate: Liam, are you hurt or anything? Hungry?  

When I called out to the room, only my voice echoed.

Liam’s voice: Hehe, I’m not hungry or hurt. Also, I’m on the other side.

Kate: Ah, sorry. Huh, how did you know where he was, Roger?

Roger: My ears picked up his heartbeat and presence. So disappearing on me’s useless.

Liam: My power and Roger’s aren’t compatible at all. Let’s move somewhere else.

With Liam concealing the sound of his footsteps, I was completely at a loss.

I followed Roger out to a place a little ways away from the villager’s homes.

The moment we stopped, Liam appeared out of nowhere like magic.

(The power to disappear’s amazing)

Liam: I’ll tell you guys everything I’ve learned about the village in the past few days. In short, this village…or rather, the Spirit God, is bad.

Kate: I thought so. How is he warding off diseases?

The most important thing was the trick that got the villagers to believe in him.

Liam: The trick’s simple. He’s not warding them off, just giving them to non-believers.

(No way…)

Liam: The Spirit God poisons anyone that doesn’t worship him or doubts him. Unaware of this trick, the villagers are deluded into thinking they’re being protected from disease. Hey Roger, have you heard of Gracefield Royal Hospital? The man they call the Spirit God used to be a doctor there.

(Gracefield Royal Hospital…?)

Roger: The hospital’s been around for a while. There’s a lot of brilliant doctors, but a high turnover rate. Useless doctors were shunned and fired.

Kate: You’re pretty knowledgable.

Roger: They left a long time ago and opened their own private practice, but my old man and his “cherished friend” used to be doctors there.

(A cherished friend…)

There was some warmth in Roger’s voice when he said that.

Roger: With this, all that’s left is getting physical evidence…

Liam: Ah, I also found a medicine cabinet. Roger can tell which one’s poison.

Roger: As expected from our cat. Nice job, Liam.

Liam: I’m glad everything went smoothly.

At that moment, Roger’s eyebrows shot up.

Liam: …Hm, what’s wrong Roger?

Roger: …

His eyes peered into the darkness.

Roger: …I can “hear” people coming from all sides.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: Yeah, there’s quite a few people. Is that how the villagers assemble?

Kate: Are we surrounded?!

Roger: Haha, looks like it. Well, we’ll just have to settle this fast.

Apparently Roger intended to take them head-on.

Liam: Yeah, it’ll be fine. Doesn’t matter how many come at us, we won’t lose.

(Liam too!)

Kate: The entire village has roughly 200 people.

Roger: We can take 100 each.

Kate: Are you insane?!

As we continued bickering, I heard footsteps approaching— 

A candle flames floated in the darkness.

Roger: Here they come.

Man of the village: …I knew you were a threat to our village.

Woman of the village: And they have a friend too. Disgusting, how did he even get in.

Liam: I’ve been here the whole time.

(It was as if the peaceful atmosphere they had greeted us with was all a lie)

The villagers’ eyes were cold and I sensed that they were willing to do anything to eliminate any foreign entities within their sandbox.

They were like mindless puppets controlled by the “Spirit God”.

Man of the village: Spirit God, what should we do with them?

Spirit God: Seize them. I will use my abilities to punish traitors.

Roger sneered at those words.

Roger: Ability, huh? If you were a Cursed One, I’d keep you alive as another on my list of precious test subjects… Too bad you’re not. Liam, go nuts. We’ll capture him.

Liam: …Roger that**

As Liam was about to pounce, daggers gleaming in hand—

A scream erupted in the crowd.

(What just happened?!)

When I realized that the girl lying beside the screaming woman was the little blonde girl who talked to me during dinner, I ran toward her.

Kate: Out of the way!

Woman of the village: What, don’t come any closer.

I was pushed back when I desperately tried to reach the girl lying in pain.

Kate: Now is not the time for this!

Woman of the village: If you hadn’t come here, none of this would’ve happened, you disease-carrying demons!

I saw her raise her hand and braced myself for a slap on the cheek.

(...)

Roger: Enough. We had nothing to do with the girl collapsing.

At the sound of his voice, I opened my eyes and saw Roger holding the woman’s wrist.

Thank you

Sorry for acting on impulse

Please help that girl +4 +4

Kate: Roger, please help that girl.

Roger: Yeah, leave her to me.

With Roger’s intimidating aura parted the crowd, allowing us to reach the girl.

Blonde child: …Ugh…

The girl’s body was stiff. Her eyes were wide open and her limbs were twitching. 

Kate: What do we do, Roger?

Roger: Based on her symptoms, it looks like tetanus. It’s a bacterial infection from a wound that affects the nerves. It makes it difficult to open your mouth, and eventually, it causes muscle spasms and paralysis.

Worst case, those infected will have a hard time breathing and die.

Kate: No way…

Roger: Anway, look for any wounds on the girl.

Roger and I examined the girl’s body and found a scratch on her calf.

Roger: …

Child’s mother: Spirit God! Please cure my child’s illness!

Spirit God: …

The man they called the Spirit God started backing away.

Child’s mother: …What’s wrong? Why aren’t you…

Roger: Relying on this guy’s not gonna do anything. He’s not some guy with special powers. He’s just a quack pretending to ward off disease by poisoning people.

Man of the village: That’s impossible! Our Spirit God’s a child of God granted with special powers!

Roger: Then why isn’t he saving this child in pain? Why didn’t you know she had tetanus until it got to this point? A false god can’t cure disease, but proper medicine can treat tetanus.

Spirit God: He’s lying! Tetanus cannot be treated!

At the Spirit God’s desperate cry, Roger looked at him with pity.

Roger: That’s ‘cause the medical knowledge in that brain of yours is outdated. There’s a treatment for tetanus. However, practical use is a miracle and there’s still some room for improvement.

(A treatment’s been discovered…)

Kate: Really, Roger?

Roger: Yeah. Though only the privileged class has access to it and it’s not available to the common citizen at all.

Spirit God: …Hahaha! If it’s not widely available, then it’s the same as saying she can’t be saved! Ah, that’s right. No one in this world can make diseases completely disappear. And yet, you all put your faith in me…It’s your fault for being foolish enough to put your trust in me.

Girl’s mother: …

With one hand, Roger grabbed the Spirit God by the neck.

Spirit God: Urk?!

As he tightened his grip, the Spirit God’s face began to turn red.

Roger: Did you never learn to let people finish talking while you were in your mama’s womb? Sure, treatment for tetanus isn’t widely available. But if you don’t have it, then you make it.

Spirit God: You can’t possibly…

Roger: As a former doctor, I can.

-

*Here, Roger is speaking more politely and softens himself by using boku as his personal pronoun instead of his usual ore. Originally, Kate goes (Boku? [...]) but changes in JP pronouns don’t translate well in English.

**Ok this time didn’t resist using “roger” for 了解.

[fkinavocado]

put a price on emotion

The Honourable Judge Styles has a dark secret. He prides himself on being notorious for his cutthroat sense of justice. But is he really any better than the ones he imprisons? Or is he a victim much like the ones he acquits?

Put a price on emotion - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings 

Prologue (important part to the story so please make sure you read the prologue first!) / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 1 (word count: 3.5k)

Harry knew this was one of the last cases he’d be presiding in Chicago. He never stayed in one place for more than 2-3 years at a time. Sure the paperwork was gruelling but he preferred it over having to be stuck in the same place for too long. 

He also couldn’t stay, even if he wanted to. It was only that long until people started figuring out that this judge wasn’t exactly… ageing.

So every decade or so, Harry had to not only switch states/ countries (that he did every few years), but take up a whole new identity, from scratch. He’d build a stellar career from scratch. He’d done it, time and again. Luckily, he knew how to work the ropes to make it seamless. But it was tiresome, for sure. He’d always kept his given name, switching up his surname. The bar exam was child’s play at this point.

He wondered how long till he’d grow tired of this, too. Before being a judge, he’d been a crime investigator. That had lasted for well over 50 years. He was getting close to that number again, presiding over cases. 

He didn’t know if he’d pick it up again after Chicago, or if it was time to switch it up again. He’d decided to take a bit of time off to see where “life” took him next.

He mulled over all of this back in his chambers, after he’d removed his cloak and lit up a cigarette. Nasty habit, to be sure, but since he couldn’t exactly develop lung cancer he figured, what’s the harm?

He’d taken a lover once that really didn’t like the smell- but she found it incredibly hot when he smoked, and with her out of the picture there really wasn’t any reason not to indulge from time to time. He of course couldn’t develop an addiction to nicotine, either.

What he did have an addiction for, to his dismay, was blood. He could go for a long time without it nowadays, but still he needed to get his fill soon, he could feel it. 

Usually, if he was really busy, he’d resort to blood bags. Ever the walking cliche, he had a friend working in a hospital that provided him with the necessary amount should he need it. 

But that was a last resort kind of situation. Because as much as Harry disliked most of what being a vampire entailed, he did enjoy the thrill, the chase, the very laborious ritual of preying on his next victim, seducing them and then having them succumb to his charm.

Because, yes, Harry seduced his victims. He didn’t like calling them that, but he supposed it was a morally grey area that he’d needed to make amends with early on in his “existence”. He’d battled with feelings of guilt for the longest time, but he came to realize that the only person he was hurting in doing so was himself.

His victims were never aware of what he was using them for. He’d feed from them without them ever knowing. Sometimes these victims were one night stands, sometimes they were lovers like the woman who lowkey liked his smoking. 

But he never got serious with anyone, for obvious reasons. Just because his heart wasn’t beating anymore didn’t mean he didn’t have one still.

And if he was being honest with himself, nobody really did it for him anymore. He could see things much more clearly as a vampire, could see things for what they were, and most of the time, things just weren’t that great up close as they appeared to be from a distance. He grew tired of his lovers, bored even, and he knew it was unfair to them, but he had so much more life experience, so much more wisdom and emotional maturity that it made it hard finding someone that would intrigue him anymore. How could he ever expect someone with a few decades under their belt to ever match up to his centuries?

Thankfully, that didn’t really get in the way of his sex life. Because that, he could never tire of. Centuries of experience didn’t dampen his libido, if anything, it kept fueling it. 

Harry enjoyed being good at what he did. Be it in the courtroom, or the bedroom. He also enjoyed being in charge. Notice a pattern, there? 

He didn’t feed from all his sexual partners. He always saved it for particularly enticing lovers, nowadays. Because he always drank from them in the throes of climax, after he’d made them come over and over again, he’d finally give in and absolutely loved combining his delayed release with the sweet nectar his partners provided him, particularly after flooding their bloodline with endorphins. It was the biggest high.

He sighed, returning to his notes he’d taken that afternoon, thinking to himself he’d probably have to resort to his friend at the hospital this time around. He just hadn’t found anyone… biteable, as of late. 

He wasn’t the kind of vampire to just feed off of anyone, he wasn’t a brute, after all. He had his standards.

But his ability to stay focused was starting to decline. He knew the telltale signs all too well by now. He needed to feed in order to operate at a functional level, ideally at an efficient level.

The way he had to make a conscious effort to focus on the notes and not let his mind wander off was quite telling. He kept thinking about the young woman, and how he was worried she’d sabotage her own case with her apparent dismissal of her attorney’s advice. 

It was a simple case of self defence. If she played her cards right, she’d make it easy for him to issue the verdict in her favour. 

But why did he have a feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy?

Even if he was planning on going under the radar soon, he still couldn’t issue a verdict that would be, at least apparently, unjust. And if she didn’t heed her attorney’s advice, it just might be the case.

He decided to call it a day and head home. He’d see what he could make of it all after the next hearing, when the young woman would testify and also some eye witnesses would take the stand.

He did stop by a bar he frequented on the way. Just on the off chance someone caught his eye. No luck, though.

He decided to give it a few more days before he called his friend at the hospital. He could muster through, he knew he could.

Or was it that he tricked himself into thinking he could? Was it maybe that he’d had his eye on someone all along, and therefore automatically excluded all the other possibilities? 

And maybe it was deeper than that? Maybe he should’ve paid more heed to what others have always warned him of? Sometimes it wasn’t as simple as it seemed. 

Sometimes bonds were formed. 

*

“Defense counsel, you may present your case.” 

The young woman’s attorney nodded to the judge. “I call Grace Gwyneth Cohen to the stand.”

Grace walked to the witness stand and the bailiff approached her as she was about to be seated. “Raise your right hand. Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

“State your name.”

“Grace Gwyneth Cohen.”

“Miss Cohen, let’s go way back,” her lawyer approached the bench and the young woman listened intently. Harry noted she seemed a bit more likely to cooperate with her attorney today, which pleased him. It would make his job infinitely easier. “First, let’s get an idea about why you were at this bar to begin with. A lovely young woman such as yourself, surely you don’t find yourself in such dingy places normally…”

“Objection! Irrelevant.”

Harry raised an eyebrow to the plaintiff. The defence hadn’t even started yet and already this guy was breathing down his neck. “Sustained.”

Grace’s attorney turned his attention back to his client, continuing “And even if you did frequent this sort of establishments, that doesn’t have to mean anything, of course. I’m just saying, it’s not your usual scene, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“You only went that night because you were meeting up with someone you’d met online, is that correct?”

“Yes. A client.”

Harry didn’t miss the attorney’s deadpan. This was surely not the way he had intended it to go. “A client. Let’s go over what you do for a living, then, shall we, Miss Cohen?”

“Sure.”

“You’re a sex worker. Is that correct?”

“No.”

Harry took note of the attorney’s clenched jaw once more. 

“What would you call what you do, then?”

“I’m not really sure, but I’m no prostitute.”

“Sex workers aren’t prostitutes. There’s a wide foray of services that fall under that category but don’t include an actual sexual act. Let’s see if what you do falls under this category. I believe the proper term would be that you’re a “cam girl”, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Which basically means, you record yourself for a paying audience, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Do you undress for your audience?”

“Depends.”

“How so?”

“Well if you’re asking if I’m ever in the nude, then the answer is no. I don’t ever take off all my clothes. I tease them a little, but there’s never been any nudity.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. How she ever got people to actually watch without her ever fully undressing was intriguing. Not to mention earn a living out of this.

“Do you only get undressed with clients you meet up with?”

“No.”

“Wasn’t this why you were meeting up with this client at the bar that night?”

“That’s what he thought was going to happen. In reality, I was planning to string him along for a bit, hopefully get him to give me some money in the hopes that I would give him more than he saw of me online.”

“Is this your only source of income?”

“At the moment, yes, because I’m a student. My curriculum doesn’t leave me with enough time even for a part time job with a fixed schedule. So I have to… freelance. I tried a number of remote jobs before I opened my onlyfans. I get to keep my anonymity, I never show my facial characteristics online, I get to make up my own schedule depending on what little free time I have and so I thought… it wouldn’t hurt to at least give it a try. I didn’t expect for anyone to chip in considering I don’t even fully undress, but surprisingly, I do have people stream my live shows. I haven’t really had time this month to stream, because I’ve had exams to study for. So money was tight. This guy was in my inbox begging for me to meet up with him. Again… I had no intention of actually going all the way with him, at most I thought maybe I’d earn a free meal out of it. I didn’t want to offer a private show for him instead either, didn’t want to risk leaving any digital footprints… I deliberately chose that pub, it’s a crowded place on a Saturday night. Figured it would be… safe.”

“But it wasn’t safe, was it, Miss Cohen? Going back to the night in question. You had set up a meeting with one of your online clients. Had any promises been made beforehand as to what would happen during this meeting?”

“I’d vaguely alluded to the possibility of more happening, but no promises had been made, no.”

“Would you mind giving us a rundown of what happened, exactly, at the bar?”

“Of course. I met up with him at the Silver Church, on the evening of the 27th of July, at 8. He said his name was Dave, and that he’d be waiting for me at the bar. When I greeted him, I immediately had an unsettling feeling about him, but I still tried to play the “date” to my advantage somehow and try and see if I could milk some money off of him. I flirted with him but never agreed to go back to his place like he kept insisting. Eventually, I asked him for some money and told him I’d be buying a lingerie set to wear on my next live stream, just for him, and consider going out with him again. He didn’t seem to like that very much, but he did give me the money, eventually. He kept insisting he’d take me back to his place even though I’d made it clear I wouldn’t be doing that, yet. I wasn’t ever planning on going through with it, of course, but I was leading him on. I don’t know if he figured out I was playing him, but he then insisted he’d walk me home. Which of course, was out of the question. I realized he wasn’t going to take no for an answer and I excused myself to use the lady’s room, but in reality, I was looking for a backdoor exit. I figured I’d already gotten my money, and that if I wanted to get rid of him now would be the time to try and make a run for it.

“I made a beeline for an exit I’d spotted at the other side of the bar when I thought he wasn’t looking, and I thought I’d been pretty stealthy and quick, but somehow he caught up to me. Before I knew it, he was right there behind me in that back alley, no one else in sight. I was expecting him to ask where I was going, something of that nature, but instead he outright attacked me!”

“What did you do then?”

“I, well– I don’t remember.”

“Would you say the assault made you lose conscience?”

“Yes, he pounced on me, and bit me –”

“And would you say you hit your head when he jumped you?”

“Yes, but–”

“So you don’t remember defending yourself?”

“Well, no. No, I don’t.”

“That's all. I have no further questions.”

Harry sensed the attorney’s irritation, and how the defendant clearly wanted to say more. He hoped, again, that for her sake she’d not walk right into the trap the plaintiff was no doubt setting up for her. “Plaintiff's counsel, do you have any cross-examination of this witness?”

“Yes, your honour. Miss Cohen, I couldn’t help but notice how you wanted to say something when your attorney so rudely interrupted.”

“Objection!”

“Sustained. Your point, plaintiff?”

“Just trying to get the full picture, here, your honour. Going back to the night of the murder, Miss Cohen. You mentioned Mr. Montgomery attacked you. Bit you, I believe is the term you used. Why would a grown man bite you? Wouldn’t there be other alternative ways, more effective ways of stopping you from leaving the club?”

“That’s what I thought as well. I was shocked by his action, I was expecting him to force himself on me but he went straight for my neck and bit… hard.”

“Why do you suppose he’d do such a thing”

“Objection!”

Harry sighed, knowing he had no choice but to let her get to her point. He already knew what she was going to say, by the look in her eyes. 

The same terror he’d seen in them that fateful night.

“Overruled.”

Grace had gone pale, her gaze had zoned out. Eventually she spoke out, her voice shaking, not at all similar to the tone she’d accustomed the court thus far. “It’s because… because he was… a vampire.”

The court gasped in unison in shock, and Harry had to exercise his gavel for the first time that evening. “Order! Order in the court!”

The judge had to insist on reinstating decorum and then the plaintiff resumed. “A… vampire. Just for the record, Miss Cohen. Your statement is that Mr. Montgomery was a vampire?”

She nodded reluctantly. “I know how this sounds. I know! But he didn’t just bite me… no, he… his eyes, his clear blue eyes turned pitch black. In the blink of an eye. When he lunged at me, his fangs were… on full display. It was only a fraction of a second before he lunged at me, but there was no mistaking what I saw. Trust me, his canines were perfectly normal over at the bar. So were his eyes. And the pain… the piercing pain he inflicted when his fangs tore the skin on my neck… I can still feel it sometimes. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

Harry watched as she instinctively brought her nimble fingers to the side of her neck, tracing the skin there. 

The plaintiff cleared his throat, barely masking his amusement. “What happened then, Miss Cohen? Did he drink your blood?”

“Objection! Leading question!”

“I… like I said, I don’t remember. He tackled me to the ground. I must’ve either hurt my head or just passed out from the… assault.”

“So… you don’t remember fighting back.”

“No.”

“How do you explain the state in which the two of you were found then?”

“I… don’t know…”

“For the record, a member of the club’s staff was taking out the trash in the back alley when he stumbled upon what appeared to be two people lying on the ground. One of them severely injured. And that person wasn’t you. No, Miss Cohen, when the ambulance arrived they performed a thorough physical examination both on site and later at the hospital, and concluded you weren’t injured. In fact they couldn’t find so much as a scar on you.”

The court gasped in unison again and the judge gave them a warning look without having to use the gavel.

“Mr. Montgomery, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky. He was declared dead, killed by a puncture to his heart inflicted by a switchblade.”

“Order!”

Grace watched as if in slow motion how the people in the court switched from looking at her with curiosity to giving her accusatory glances, and she couldn’t help but let tears well up in her eyes. She faintly heard the judge’s gavel but not even that could steady her beating heart. She had pleaded not guilty at the counsel of her attorney, but the truth was… she didn’t know what the truth was.

She must’ve been in shock, her memory of the incident completely blocked as a defence mechanism or something. The last thing she remembered was hitting the ground, the vampire hovering over her. She definitely did not remember stabbing him, hell, she’d never even seen that switchblade before. She’d have recognized it if it was hers. She did carry a pepper spray but she of course had no chance to retrieve it, the guy had been on her within the blink of an eye, his morphed features shocking her into a frozen stupor. 

Initially she thought she might have done it in self defence, and the shock was just blocking her memory of it. But then the lab concluded that her fingerprints weren’t on the switchblade. In fact, it had been wiped clean. 

She couldn’t fathom ever going through the trouble of doing all that, and not flee the scene of the crime at least if she was trying to conceal her actions.

Nothing added up. The rest of the interrogation was a blur. She was taken back into custody until the next hearing. Back in her cell, but somewhere nicer than where she was headed- she was always reminded by whomever escorted her there.

She was left alone with her thoughts yet again, back to staring at those barren walls and trying to make sense of all that was happening to her, trying to make peace with the fact that this was probably what the rest of her life would be like.

Harry was staring at a much different wall, a wall decorated in all his accolades and honorary achievements back in his chambers. But he had the same thing on his mind.

This was unjust, and the feeling made his skin crawl. He wasn’t used to such a feeling. The only time he’d felt that before was when he’d been robbed of his own life, just like Grace was getting robbed of hers. 

He kicked his feet off his desk and grabbed his briefcase, deciding to head home. His hand hovered over the light switch, pausing before he finally left.

He’d find a way, but it just might be that it would have her live in limbo for the rest of her life, not unlike himself.

A/N: hints and smoke and mirrors, aka a slow burn cuz y'all know me 😅

beta’d by the lovely @adorebeaa ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you’re enjoying this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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[ssinnerplazahotel]

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Eight*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 8k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Elvis had tried to live up to his promise of making things right. You wouldn’t say he was successful, and you wouldn’t say it was any fault of his own. You weren’t sure if things could be made right again. You tried to put the past in the past. You tried not to think about the way he’d grabbed you and pinned you to his bed. You tried to forget about how frightened you were then. You didn’t want to remember.

It wasn’t the first time you were afraid of him. You told yourself that if you could get over it before, you could get over it again.

You tried. You really did. A part of your mind that had been made up since your conversation with Andrea—the other part lingered between made up and naïve by choice. You wanted to be naïve, it didn’t hurt as much to believe that he loved you.

“I see you watching him,” Cynthia spoke suddenly as you stood in the kitchen awaiting her instruction. Her eyes stayed focused on the dishes she was hand washing, only glancing up to be sure you heard her.

“Ma’am?” You asked in shock, trying to weed through the nonsense clouding your mind for a reasonable response. It was hard when you could feel Elvis’ eyes burning a hole in your back.

“Don’t put on an act for me.” She laughed. “He’s talked to me about you.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” You chose your words carefully.

“He asked me about you when you first started working around the house.” She started to hand you dishes to dry and you quickly found the drying cloth. “He started wanting his tray earlier in the night because he would be busy later. Busy doin what I had no idea. But I caught on eventually when I saw the way he looked at you.”

“How did he look at me?” You asked, keeping your expression neutral.

“He tried not to, he mostly didn’t.” The two of you were getting a rhythm of washing and drying going by then. “But when he did his eyes just stuck to you. He’d play it off for a minute or two then he'd go chasing after you. I only said anything when I noticed Dawn was getting suspicious. I knew if she found out it wouldn’t do either of you any good. When I asked him if there was anything going on, he told me the truth.”

You had no reason to doubt that Cynthia was telling the truth, but you still hesitated to respond to her.

“Who do you think’s been keeping Dawn from barging upstairs and finding the two of you?” She asked. “If I didn’t steer her away she would’ve caught you together by now.”

“Dawn knows more that she lets on,” You said quietly. “Why are you only telling me this now?”

“I’ve been trying to find time to talk, you’re so stuck to Dawn during the day,” Cynthia said. “I saw the look you got on your face when you came downstairs. I don’t know what happened but you’re both wearing it on your sleeves. Staring at each other like a couple in a fight.”

“What else did he say about me?” You asked indulgently.

“He said enough to convince me.”

You started to complain about the vagueness of her comment but Dawn appeared in the kitchen before you could say anything.

“You got an earlier start than I expected,” She said, poking fun at your out of whack sleep schedule.

“I wasn’t tired enough to sleep in,” You lied, having been up late with Elvis the night before.

You did your best to take Cynthia’s advice for the rest of the day. You were still shocked to find out about her knowledge of you and Elvis’ relationship. Whatever that relationship was supposed to be…

You almost didn’t believe her but she knew too much to be lying.

You went through the day completely ignoring him. He caught on halfway through and began to ignore you too. It didn’t affect you much—you were used to being ignored and overlooked by him.

*

“You in here, baby?”

“Can’t you knock sometimes?”

Elvis laughed as he let the door of your room swing shut behind him. You didn’t turn away from where you stood in the mirror wrapping your hair for the night.

“What?” You asked when he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side.

“I came to talk to you about something, but suddenly I don’t have the words,” He said. “Who gave you the right to be so pretty?”

“Stop it,” You said, adjusting your scarf on your head. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“I think it's coming back to me.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. You squirmed against him as he kissed your neck.

“Elvis,” You complained, he held your body firmly against his. “Tell me what it is.”

“You tell me what it is.”

“What?”

“Were you ignoring me today?” His lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine.

“…No.”

“Alright.” He kissed your shoulder and met your eyes in your reflection. You relaxed and wrapped your own arms around his as he hugged your torso. “I came to tell you that we’re gonna send you, Dawn, and Cinee back to Memphis while we finish up here. We’re gonna be traveling for reshoots and press for another two weeks but we’ll be back after that.”

“Okay,” You said. “When are we leaving?”

“Day after tomorrow probably,” He responded. “You’re not upset?”

“No.” You had a feeling that he’d hoped you would be. “It’s only two weeks.”

He hummed in response, his eyes leaving yours.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ll be there, right?” He asked, meeting your eyes again. “When I get back?”

“At Graceland?”

“Yeah, at Graceland.”

You realized then why he had looked worried so suddenly. He was afraid you’d leave while you were separated. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind, now you couldn’t help but recognize the opportunity.

Elvis loved to plant thoughts in your mind. He’d carefully craft your every thought if he could, and you weren’t sure if you’d stop him. You were afraid you wouldn’t have the power to fight it if he tried. He’d plant his seed and you’d let him rain all over you, unsure of what would prosper that day or the next.

‘How do you want me?’ He’d expect you to ask. ‘That’s how I’ll be.’

If you let him plant his seeds of thought inside your brain you wouldn’t have to think about anything. You wouldn’t have to be curious, you wouldn’t have to put anything into action. You could live peacefully in your delusion.

You thought, maybe, that was the easiest route to take. You were already losing your will, why not let him hold all the cards? Why not let him take advantage of your love? He already knew that as long as your love for him lived he’d have his way with you.

As far as you could tell your love would always live, so it wouldn’t matter if you shut your mind down. It wouldn’t matter if he told you what to do.

You wanted him to.

You wanted him to silence your curiosity and cage up your free will—you were too mentally exhausted to have it any other way.

You wouldn’t blame him. You would blame yourself. You would blame your love.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked as the silence grew suspicious. You smiled reassuringly for him, hoping that it looked genuine. Your mind continued to race despite how desperately you tried to quiet your thoughts.

Silence my curiosity.

“I’m just making sure.” He returned your smile. “I don’t want my baby birdie gettin any ideas about flyin away.”

Cage up my free will.

“I wouldn’t.” You turned around in his arms to face him. “I’ll be there.”

How do you want me?

“I believe you.” He ducked his head to kiss you, making you tilt your head to meet his lips.

That’s how I’ll be.

You still felt so swept away by his touch, so outside of yourself. It worsened the emotional turmoil you felt inside, yet it spurred you on and made you crave him.

“Tell me you love me,” He demanded softly.

“You know I do.” You were like a fiend and he was your vice. The sober days hurt, but those high nights almost made you forget the pain. Almost.

“I want to hear you say it,” He insisted between kisses.

“I love you,” You said. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”

He deepened the kiss, pushing you up onto the edge of the sink.

“I’m gonna get wet,” You complained as the hem of your nightie went into the damp sink.

“That’s the idea,” Elvis uttered cleverly as his hands traveled up your thighs and under the nightie.

You were convinced you were a lunatic—or at the very least mentally unwell. You had to be, it was the only plausible explanation. There you were plotting your escape, contemplating laying down your life, and pawing at him wantonly all within the span of a few minutes—telling him you loved him and letting him take you to bed.

“You didn’t lock it.” Your breath hitched as he teased you through your underwear. “T-The door.”

Even in your aroused state you knew you hadn’t heard him lock the door when he walked in. The click of the lock being engaged was a sound that you were used to listening for.

“You’re right,” He said, his warm breath mingling with yours. He made no move to go and lock the door, instead he hooked his fingers under the band of your panties and pulled them down your legs.

“Elvis,” You said in alarm. “Y-You can’t~”

You were cut off abruptly when he suddenly pushed his middle finger deep inside of you. You gripped his shoulder for dear life.

“I can't what?” Elvis asked, circling your clit with his thumb. “I can’t fuck you with the door unlocked?”

You shuddered, leaning back against the mirror behind you. You tried to respond but your words were caught in your throat.

“Can you see the door?” He asked, wrapping his free arm around you and sitting you up. You cried out as his finger entered you from a different angle. “Can you see the door, baby?”

“Yes.” You looked over his shoulder at the door, the lock was unturned.

“You keep your eyes on the door.”

“Please, lock it.”

“No.” He smiled, amused by your unease. “Be a good girl and keep watch, will you?”

Your heart hammered wildly against your chest as he sunk down between your thighs, pushing the hem of your nightie up out of the way. You practically flinched when he touched you again. You swore and gripped the edge of the sink, tears of pleasure already threatening to well in your eyes.

You watched the door with a feeling of anxiety that mingled too well with the pleasure you felt as his tongue sent you to heaven. You watched and waited for the knob of the door to turn, for someone—Dawn, or Cynthia, one of the guys needing you to clean up a mess they made—to walk in and find Elvis’ head buried between your legs.

As you anticipated your release you wondered what you’d do if someone walked in. Would you push him away? Or would you pull him in? Too far gone and so close to reaching your high that you could almost taste it? The thought made your back arch as Elvis latched onto your clit and he stroked you within an inch of your life.

The dam broke and suddenly you couldn’t see the door, or anything for that matter. Your eyes rolled and your thighs tried desperately to shut around his head as your orgasm completely wracked your body.

You cried and he continued his assault even as you trembled against him. You felt like you were floating when he finally pulled away, standing between your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes started to focus again as he unbuckled his pants. Your mind was everywhere but the door as he freed his cock and ran it through your remaining arousal. You expected him to push inside but he didn’t. Instead, he used your slick to coat his aching erection before getting himself off. His movements were erratic and quick, his eyes never leaving your face.

He swore tensely when you gripped his hair in one hand and wrapped your legs more tightly around him. He grunted as he came, pumping himself through every pulse of his release. You stayed like that for a while, holding him while he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“Elvis,” You forced yourself to say, your voice shallow and breathless. “Lock it…please.”

“Yeah,” He responded, kissing your neck before pulling away. He took the towel you had used to dry your face earlier and wiped himself clean. He handed it to you and left the bathroom.

You clambered down from the sink, turning and leaning against it. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment before looking away, avoiding your reflection. You didn’t recognize yourself. You didn’t know who you were.

You’re my girl, that’s who you are.

“You okay?” Elvis asked, reappearing behind you. He wrapped his arms around you and tried to meet your eyes in the mirror.

“I need a second,” You said, reaching out and turning the faucet on without looking up at him.

“Don’t take too long,” He said, kissing your shoulder before leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You stood on shaky legs as you cleaned yourself up. You took a few minutes to try and collect your thoughts but it turned out to be more difficult than you expected. You weren’t sure what you were thinking.

On one hand, you contemplated the possibility of leaving Graceland when you returned to Memphis—you tried to make sense of the outrageous idea. Yet somehow you wanted nothing more than to join Elvis in your bed and talk the night away, like two teenagers with their itches freshly scratched.

You left the bathroom with a hint of apprehension behind your steps. Elvis stood at your dresser absentmindedly smelling the assortment of perfumes that you’d accumulated.

There was one you’d gotten when you first came to Memphis. Two Barb and Pat had insisted you get from a booth downtown during one of your many excursions. And another that Andrea had gifted you before she left. To remind you of her.

She’d be ashamed of you if she saw you now.

“It’s too much all at once, isn’t it?” You asked, getting his attention. “Cabochard.”

He shrugged, putting the top back on the bottle. “I like it. It’s unique.”

You nodded indifferently. “I have to do my homework.”

“I’ll sit with you until you finish.”

“Won’t you bore to death?”

You caught a whiff of your perfume when you each got onto your bed—floral and sandalwood. You smiled at the mental image of him spraying himself with it.

“I like watching you work,” He said as you grabbed your textbook from the nightstand and opened it. “You’re sexy when you’re focused.”

You laughed. “As long as you’re entertained.”

He sat there patiently for a change as you did your homework. You were waiting for a bored sigh or an annoyed breath, but instead he sat there silently patting his foot to the song stuck in his head. You almost found it harder to concentrate while waiting for him to break.

He didn’t.

By the time you finished he had laid his head on your shoulder and started to doze. You sighed in relief as you shut your textbook and dated your packet for it to get sent off.

A smile graced your lips for a moment as you brought your hand up and drummed your fingers under Elvis’ chin. You quietly kissed your lips at him until he stirred and you motioned for him to lay against your pillows.

“E, you’re asleep,” You said when he hesitated.

“Where are you goin?”

“Nowhere. I’m right here.”

You put your textbook back on the bedside table and adjusted yourself so that you laid next to him on your back. He wrapped his arm around your torso and held onto you even in his sleep, never once letting go.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You tried to tell him but he never seemed reassured by your words.

*

He’d wake you up in the morning before he left to give you a full rundown of his day. Making sure to tell you if he thought the two of you could spend time together that night. You didn’t understand why he did it. But you figured it was his way of showing that he was making an effort to spend time with you.

“I’ll come to you,” He’d say, kissing your forehead before standing to leave. “Go back to sleep.”

You’d wave as he left, with no hope of returning to sleep. You’d stare at the ceiling until the next two hours rolled by and you were forced to face the day.

*

It was your last night in Hawaii and just in time before you left you got a letter from Andrea. The mailing process had gotten a bit backed up but she did write you back, which made you happy.

You smiled as you laid back in your bed reading the letter.

Hi, love, It said. I’ve been dying to hear from you! I feel like so much time has gone by but really it hasn’t. I’m glad Dawn and Mama are doing okay but that’s not what I want to know. How are you? Are you taking care of yourself? More importantly, have you found yourself a real man? Please tell me you got back in touch with Kai. I didn’t forget about him, there’s no way I could. I told you once and I’ll tell you again, you don’t deserve to be kept a secret—choose yourself! I hope you realize that soon if you haven’t by the time you get this. My hand would fall off if I tried to write some sense into you so I’m going to leave it at that. You have to come by the house when you’re back in Memphis. Charles says he’d love to meet you. I told him you’re like the little sister I never had, so technically you’re like the sister-in-law he never had. I wish I had something interesting to tell you but my life is pretty much on the straight and narrow again—

“What’re you reading?”

You jumped at the sound of Elvis’ voice and clutched the paper to your chest. He laughed as he locked the door. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Oh, I just did,” He said, stalking over to you. “Somebody sent you a letter?”

“No. I-I mean, yes. It’s from Andrea.”

“Why’re you hiding it like that?” He asked with an amused expression.

“What do you mean?” You sat up and took the letter from your chest before folding it in your lap.

He narrowed his eyes at you, waiting less than a second before reaching out and snatching the letter before you.

“No, Elvis!” You exclaimed, trying not to shout as you stood up on your knees reaching for the letter. “It’s private.”

“What could she be saying?” He laughed, unfolding it and skimming the words.

You sat back on your heels as his expression changed. You fidgeted anxiously, waiting for his reaction.

“What is this?” He asked, looking at you now. He looked more confused than upset but you could already see the anger forming on his face. “You told her about us?”

“No,” You said quickly. “I told her some things but she had no idea I was talking about you.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked. “She’d sell this in a heartbeat if she knew.”

“Oh, and you don't think Cynthia would sell this story?” You narrowed your eyes. “It’s not fair that you have her to talk to and I have no one.”

“So you pick her prying ass daughter? What do you need to talk to anyone about anyway?”

“What do you talk to Cynthia about?”

“Shit, I don’t know~ What to tell Dawn to keep her off us?”

You crossed your arms. “Andrea’s my friend, I trust her. And I made sure she didn’t know it was you.”

“And how’d you do that?”

“As far as she’s concerned I’m having an affair with some married man and nobody knows.” You shrugged but you were sure you weren’t coming off as unbothered as you meant to. “I told her that if anyone ever found out about it, his poor wife would leave him.”

“You told her that horrible story?” He asked after falling silent for a moment. A trace of a smile reappeared on his face and you felt yourself relax a bit. “You’re more creative than that, aren’t you, honey?”

“I also told her how much I loved him, and how nice he can be sometimes,” You said, trying to make him forget that he was mad at you.

“Sometimes?” He laughed. “You know what? Sometimes you get me so mad I could just crack your jaw. You shoulda told her that.”

“Don’t say that.” You looked down, only looking up when he handed the letter back. “I don’t know why you hate her so much.”

“I hate anything that tries to take you away from me.” He took the bottom of your face in his hand and made you look up.

“It’s my last night,” You said, your voice low and pleading. “Can’t we be nice to each other?”

“I’m not gonna pretend to like her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“You need to find new friends,” He said. “Friends your own age.”

“Friends my age?” You asked incredulously, pushing his hand away from your face. “That’s funny coming from you.”

“Older friends aren’t good for you,” He said, taking your face in both hands despite your protests. He stepped closer, tilting your head back so you still looked at him as you sat against your heels. “They make you forget you’re just a little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl.” You huffed in frustration. “If you think that, Elvis, you really don’t see me.”

“I do,” He said. “I see you better than you see yourself. That’s why you ought to listen to me.”

“All I do is listen to you.”

“If that was the case you wouldn’t be so damn bad at it.”

You pushed him away and maneuvered off the bed to put the letter in your luggage so that you wouldn’t forget it tomorrow.

“You don’t listen to me,” You said as you tucked the letter away. You faced him from where you stood across the room. “Why should I listen to you?”

“You want me to be nice?” He asked, ignoring your question. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned back against his hands. “I catch you bad mouthing me to your so-called friend~”

“I never bad mouthed you~”

“~and I’m supposed to be nice?” He continued to speak over you. “I don’t think that’s a reasonable thing to expect, birdie. I mean, you told her something bad enough~”

“I can’t help what she said, Elvis, I didn’t write it~”

“~you’ve given her some reason to tell you to leave me, so tell me just what the hell you said.”

You crossed your arms and the two of you fell silent.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, it don’t go well. You’re just gonna piss me off.”

“I didn’t tell her anything bad,” You stressed, your eyes burning with frustrated tears.

“Why are you tryna cry?” He seemed more annoyed at the sight of your watery eyes than concerned.

“Because you’re accusing me of something I didn’t do,” You said as best you could. “I only told her the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?”

“The truth is that…”

He’ll never choose you.

His eyebrow twitched as he waited expectantly for you to continue. “What?”

You shook your head, looking down. “I-I told her that I loved you. Even if it could only be in secret.”

“And she told you to leave me?”

“Yes.”

You looked up when he fell silent, finding his eyes on you already. He didn’t seem convinced.

“And you didn’t have anything to say about that?” He asked.

“I didn’t have anything to say,” You whispered, your eyes trained carefully on him.

He nodded as if he understood but you couldn’t tell by his expression. He reached his hand out and gently patted the spot next to him. “C’mere,” He said, looking at you expectantly. “Sit beside me, baby.”

You hesitated before crossing the room and joining him on the bed.

“I don’t want to have the same argument twice,” He said, putting his arm around you. “Okay?”

“Okay?” You were confused and upset. .

“I don’t want you talking to Andrea about us anymore,” He forced a patient smile as he spoke. “I don’t care what terrible lie you told her. I don’t trust her and I really don’t think she has your best interest at heart.” His smile faded as he continued to speak deliberately, making sure you understood how serious he was.

You started to say something, but he stopped you.

“Come on, birdie, don’t fight me on this,” He said. “I’m tryna protect you. I’m trying to protect us.”

“You’re trying to control me.”

“I don’t want to control you,” He stressed. “Try to understand, darlin. We can’t be too careful about this.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have any friends at all.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him. “Maybe then you’ll be happy.”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” He said, trying to end the conversation. “If you can’t get your shit together I’ll leave and see you back at Graceland in a couple weeks. What do you want? D’you wanna fight or what?”

You remained silent, debating whether or not to send him away. As much as you wanted him to go there was a larger part of you that always wanted him to stay.

“Don’t leave,” You said, your voice small and hardly above a whisper.

“Stop pouting like a baby and I won’t.” He chuckled. “We can be nice to each other.”

“Okay,” You said without meeting his eyes. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“I’ll wait for you.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek before letting you go. “Hurry up.”

You didn’t respond as you stood and went into the bathroom. You didn’t take long, doing the rest of your routine quickly before rejoining Elvis in the bedroom.

“All better?” He asked as he flipped casually through the notebook you used for school.

“Why’re you going through that?” You asked instead of answering, joining him on the bed.

“I like world history,” He said, letting you take the notebook away. “And the little seashells you draw on the corners of the pages.”

“You should do my homework if you like it so much,” You said, making him laugh. You sat the notebook on the bedside table and made a mental note not to forget it. “Elvis?”

“Oh lord, I know that tone.” He groaned sarcastically. “What now?”

“Nothing.”

“Something. What is it?”

You sat next to him against the headboard of the bed. “I’m worried that I’m only a challenge to you.”

“A challenge?” He sounded confused.

“Why do you want me so badly when you don’t need me?”

“Because I love you,” He said. “And I do need you.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“It doesn’t matter what you think, what matters is what I’m telling you.”

“I think that~”

“Goddamnit, birdie~”

“~I think you’re used to having whatever it is you want,” You said anyway. “And I don’t think you see me any differently.”

“I can’t stop you from thinking that, can I?”

“Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

You wanted to know what he was thinking, what his motives were. He was always in your head, thinking your thoughts before you thought them—as if he could see your motivations more clearly than you could. You wanted to be in his head for a change.

“I love you,” He reiterated. “Why can’t you be happy with that?”

“I am.”

“Okay, good.”

“I need to know more.”

“About what?”

“You.”

He shook his head, his eyes rolling slightly. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I’m telling you exactly what I want from you, E,” You said. “You don’t talk to me about your feelings like you used to. I can’t read you like you read me, I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” He asked, his voice rising in frustration. “I tell you I love you, is that not enough?”

“Not all the time, no,” You said, growing more frustrated as well. “I need more.”

“Lord, birdie, you’re so damn complex.” He sighed. “C’mere, sit right here.” He grabbed your arm and led you to straddle him.

“I’m not trying to nag you.”

“You’re doin an awful job.”

He laughed but you remained serious.

“I have to know. I can’t make sense of anything if I don’t know how you feel.” You had a feeling that you wouldn’t get a chance to ask these questions again. You worried that you’d get back to Graceland and make your mind up about leaving while you had the chance.

“What’s your question, doll?” His frustration had faded and been replaced with a hint of a smile.

“Why me?”

“Why anyone else?”

You looked away. Your heart swelled, so full of incommunicable love for the man before you. He tapped your chin and your tear glazed eyes met his confident gaze.

“Why anyone else?” He asked again. “When I have my pretty doll. My little baby birdie.”

Your voice was quiet and unsteady when you spoke again, holding back your tears. “I’m so…consumed by you. It scares me. A-And I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“What’s gonna happen when?”

“Ever.”

Elvis thought for a moment. “Well, I can tell you what’s gonna happen right now.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna show you how much I love you.”

*

You tried to focus on anything but the tears threatening to well in your eyes as you boarded your flight back to Memphis with Dawn. You could still feel Elvis’ goodbye kiss lingering on your lips as the plane got off the ground.

“Why the long face?” Dawn asked as you stared out of the window.

“I’m tired,” You lied partially. “I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

She didn’t respond for a while. “Two weeks won’t kill you.”

You turned your head and met her knowing eyes. You should’ve asked her what she meant. You should’ve tried to deter her somehow but you didn’t have it in you to lie to her. You hardly had it in you to lie to yourself.

“You know.” Of course she did.

“I’ve always known,” She said simply. “I just don’t understand.”

You nodded, swallowing harshly and looking down at your hands to hide the emotions stirring in your eyes. “It happened all at once, I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s not your fault,” She said, placing a sympathetic hand on your thigh. “You’re just a girl.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not happy with you, but I’m not mad.”

You met her eyes again. “You’re not?”

She shook her head. “I’m not. You just…it has to end.”

“I know,” You sighed. “I’m working on that.”

“Had I known this would happen I would’ve never taken the live-in position,” She continued. “We could’ve kept the house, you could’ve gotten a job somewhere else~”

“I know,” You said again, closing your eyes as your throat constricted with emotion. “I didn’t think this would happen. You have to know that.”

Dawn shushed you before you succumbed entirely to your emotions. “It happened, and we can’t change that. Leave it in the past now. Can you do that?”

You wished it was that easy. “I’m trying.”

You knew what you had to do.

Leaving Memphis wouldn’t erase everything that happened, but maybe, you thought, it would be easier for you to let go if you weren’t there. Maybe you would finally have the space to let him go. As much as it turned your stomach, you knew you needed to rediscover yourself. You needed peace.

And that peace came with you leaving Memphis.

*

Elvis,

If you’re reading this, I’m gone. I promised you that I would be there when you got home. I’m sorry I broke that promise. It’s not because I wanted to. I had to.

You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. You revealed to me parts of myself that I never knew—parts of myself that will never be the same without you. My decision to leave isn’t one I came to easily or because I don’t love you. More than anything I want you to know that.

I made this decision because I was beginning to lose myself in you. I couldn’t find where you ended and I began. I stopped recognizing myself and wanted only to see you. I let you shape and mold me into your girl, your little birdie. That’s all I ever wanted to be. All I wanted was for you to stay. In the good moments and in the bad. I realize now that, in doing that, I lost myself.

Andrea asked me once if I thought you would ever choose me. But, before then, Dawn told me that you never would. I believed her, but it didn’t stop me from wanting you. Now that I’ve had time to think, I’ve realized why she was so insistent. She knew from the beginning that we were headed nowhere fast. We weren’t destined for more than dark rooms and locked doors. We were destined to be hidden, to be kept a secret.

No one will ever know what we shared, how deep our connection truly was—or at least how deep it was for me. I won’t tell anyone. I’m sure you won’t either.

Above all, I hope that you have some good memories of our time together to hold on to. Memories that will make you smile when you think back to them even years from now.

I wish I could express in more words what you mean to me. I know it’s selfish, but I hope you’ll remember me. I love you, more than anything I love you.

Always,

your baby birdie.xxx

*

You stared down at the blank envelope in your hand, biting the inside of your lip as you contemplated leaving the letter in his room.

Two weeks had flown by and before you knew it Elvis was coming home. He’d be back at Graceland in two days or less. You weren’t as much of a wreck as you expected to be.

You packed up as many clothes as you could into the single suitcase you’d brought with you upon your arrival to Memphis. You filled it with clothes and a few other necessities. You couldn’t take all of your belongings, so you narrowed it down to the things you absolutely needed. You hadn’t told Dawn that you were leaving. You hadn’t planned to either, you knew she’d talk you out of it. Instead you told her that you were going on an overnight trip to Andrea’s. She believed you.

You called Andrea and told her the same story just in case Dawn decided to investigate.

You didn’t want anyone following you or trying to convince you not to leave. You were leaving and that was final.

“I’m glad the two of you decided to stay in touch,” Cynthia said when she saw you carrying your suitcase to the car. “I didn’t think you’d get along so well.”

“Yeah, well.” You chuckled. “She’s a good person.”

All that was left to do now was leave the letter in Elvis’ room.

When you entered his room you were greeted with an influx of memories. Memories of long, sleepless nights. You smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed and running your hand along the duvet.

You would miss this room.

You would miss the chill in the air and the dim lights. You’d miss Elvis’ scent and the way it invaded your senses. You wished you could kiss him one last time. You wished he could hold you through one more night. You knew nothing would make up for the emptiness you’d feel after you were gone. He took up so much of your life, you were bound to be left aimless and lost without him. But you knew it was the only way.

The longer you stayed there in his room the more guilt you felt about leaving the way you were.

You loved him too much to go without facing him. You were afraid that if you faced him before leaving that he would convince you to stay, but your mind was made up.

As afraid as you were to face him, you were more afraid of not saying goodbye.

You called Andrea when you got back to your room, keeping your letter so that you could deliver it yourself in person. You told her that you would come the night after tomorrow instead of tomorrow night. She sounded so excited to see you. Your guilt intensified.

You’d probably never see or hear from her again.

*

The night came quickly like you had expected it to. Your stomach churned and your palms were clammy. You kept telling yourself that you were ready, that you were prepared for this. But how could you be?

You kept wiping your palms on your jeans as you helped Dawn with a few finishing touches around the house.

“You’re sweating,” She pointed out while the two of you finished putting the dishes away. “You aren’t that anxious are you?”

“To see him? No. The past is in the past.”

“What are you gonna tell him?” Dawn asked. You weren’t used to talking to her about those kinds of things—it made you uncomfortable.

“I’m going to tell him the truth.” You closed the cabinet door, wiping your hands on the seat of your pants again. “He’ll be nice about it. He’s understanding.”

You expected him to be anything but understanding. But the last thing you wanted was for Dawn to have any animosity towards Elvis. You hoped that he wouldn’t punish her for your decision and let her go on working here after you were gone. He had a soft spot for Dawn so you knew he’d be gracious, even if he was angry at you.

“They’re back, and they brought their friends,” Cynthia said entering the kitchen. “I’m gonna get out of here before they get in.”

“I should too, I don’t want to get caught up in that mess,” Dawn said, untying her apron. “Are you still going to Andrea’s?”

“Yes, I’m going to leave in a little while,” You said, your heart hammered in your chest.

“Be careful,” Dawn said. “Don’t forget to call.”

“I won’t.” You hugged her. She tensed, shocked by the embrace, before hugging you back. “I love you, Aunt Dawn.”

“Oh,” She said, patting your back. “Well, I love you too.”

You pulled away, smiling at her before turning to leave the kitchen. “Goodnight, Cynthia.”

“Goodnight.”

The commotion from outside grew louder when the front door opened and everyone started pouring inside. You didn’t look for Elvis when you walked past the crowd of people, instead you ignored them and climbed the stairs to your room. You stopped by to grab the letter from your nightstand, folding it and slipping it into your back pocket before going to wait in Elvis’.

Your nerves grew worse as you sat on his bed anticipating his arrival. You tried to plan out everything you would say. You wanted to be as honest and straightforward as possible. It didn’t matter how many times you went over it in your head, because the second the door opened all the words left you.

You stood as he entered, clasping your hands to hide the way they anxiously trembled.

“There’s my girl.” He smiled. He looked genuinely happy to see you as he shut the door and met you.

“How was the trip?” You asked, tensing slightly under his touch when he slipped his arms around your waist.

“It wasn’t too bad,” He said. “We picked up some people along the way.”

“I saw,” You chuckled nervously. He kissed your temple before pulling away.

“I wanna stay up here with you, birdie, but they want me downstairs,” He said, walking towards his closet. “If you give me an hour out there we can spend the rest of the night together. I promise.”

“Elvis.” You stopped him. “I-I actually want to talk to you about something.”

“Can it wait until later?” He asked. “They were really houndin me about comin back down.”

“No,” You said, walking past him to lock the door. You paused for a moment before facing him again. “It can’t wait.”

He turned to you completely, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving, E.” You swallowed and waited for his reaction.

“Where’re you going?” He asked. You could tell he wasn’t fully grasping what you were saying.

“I-I’m leaving Memphis,” You clarified. “Tonight.”

“Okay?” He narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “But…I can’t stay here.”

He continued to stare at you with a confused expression.

“I-I wanted to t-tell you face to face,” You continued. “I h-had to.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m being perfectly clear.”

He crossed his arms. “You’re leavin Memphis. Tonight?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?” He still seemed unconvinced. “Because of something I did or what?”

“It’s not one thing that you did.” Your voice trembled. “It’s-Its multiple. I made this decision for multiple reasons. It’s what’s best for me.”

“Birdie,” He sighed, shaking his head. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

“No, I do~”

“No you don’t,” He said firmly. “I don’t think you understand how irrational and fucking ridiculous you’re being~”

“I’m not being irrational,” You tried to speak over him, raising your voice slightly when he continued arguing. “Can you listen to me for a second?”

“We aren’t doing this right now,” He snapped. “You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think you’re just gonna up and leave town in the middle of the night. It’s not happening!”

“If I don’t do it now I’ll never~” Your voice buckled as the emotions you were warding off grew more intense. You took a breath. “If I don’t do this now I’ll never get the chance. Because I’m leaving tonight regardless of whether or not you listen to me.”

“You aren’t leaving.”

“I am. I was going to leave before you got back but that just didn’t seem fair.”

“Leave and go where?” He was growing more frustrated by the minute. “Where the hell are you gonna go?”

“I-I wanted t-to be able to tell you that I’m not leaving b-because I don’t love you,” You said, trying to swallow your tears. “I’m standing here right now because I do.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes. I do.”

“If you loved me you’d stay.”

You shook your head, taking a step back when he stepped towards you.

“I do love you,” You said. “I love you more than I love myself and that’s not okay. Not anymore.”

He fell silent, walking over to his bed and sitting down on the edge. He crossed his arms and stared at you. His frustration was fading into something else. Something more worried.

His jaw twitched. “W-What, birdie, what d-do you want me to do, huh?”

“I wrote you a letter,” You said, taking the envelope out of your pocket. “It’s just…I wrote it a few days ago, but~”

“I thought we were okay.” He looked off as he spoke now, his gaze distant. “Y-You~ I-I thought you said~”

“I don’t want to leave.” Tears formed in your eyes despite your best efforts. “I have to.”

He looked up at you from where he sat, his sapphire eyes boring into you. He didn’t speak for a long time, but when he did his voice was just over a whisper. “Don’t.”

You shook your head, balling your lips anxiously. The letter shook in your hand as you crossed the room to hand it to him.

“You don’t have to,” He said when you tried to hand it to him. “W-We can go back t-to how we were before~”

“Please take it,” You said. “Promise you’ll read it.”

He grabbed your wrist instead of the envelope, pulling you to stand between his legs. “Let me fix it.”

You looked down into his pleading eyes. “You can’t.”

His arms slipped around your waist. He pressed his forehead against your torso and hugged you.

You sat the letter beside him on the bed. “I have to go.”

“Birdie,” He continued. “I’ll do w-whatever whatever you want.”

You put your arms around him as he hugged you, smoothing the back of his hair in a comforting manner. “I love you.”

“Tell me what to do,” He said, pulling away enough to meet your eyes.

“Let me go,” You said, your voice cracking. The tears welling in your eyes finally fell and you forced yourself out of his grasp. “That’s all you can do.”

“Calm down and talk to me, baby, please?” He begged, holding onto you tighter. “Tell me what to do, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“It’s too late. Things are different now. I-I want to be different.” It was true, you didn’t feel the same as you did. The electricity had faded and the fire had fizzled—leaving you cold and full of quiet resentment that you feared would only fester if you stayed.

“Why can’t we talk?” He asked, his voice still small and desperate.

“Because you don’t listen when I talk.” You stumbled back as he stood, his hands gripping the top of your arms. “Y-You can’t convince me to stay. My mind’s already made up.”

“Who put you up to this?” He asked, disregarding what you were saying. “Andrea?”

“No.” You groaned, attempting to push his hands away. “I put myself up to it. Because I can think for myself and I know that I don’t want this anymore.”

“D’you want my attention? Do you want me to beg you to stay? You’re just a little girl, birdie, you don’t know what you want.”

“I don’t want this. We can’t even have a decent conversation anymore. You’ve hurt me time and time again, and you never seem sorry.”

“If you want me to be different, I can be different. I can’t change what’s already happened.”

“You’ll never change. I know you won’t, that’s why I have to leave.”

“You aren’t even giving me a chance.”

“I’ve given you chances.” You put your hands out when he stepped towards you, pressing them against his stomach. “I’ve given you chance after chance and you always disappoint me.”

“How have I disappointed you?” He asked.

You fell silent, it was hard to remember any specific occasion while your mind was racing like it was. You couldn’t think straight.

“You can’t even tell me?” He asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” You said, looking up at him again. “You can’t change my mind.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Andrea’s?”

“No.”

Silence fell over the room and neither of you spoke for a while. He finally said something when you tried to walk out of his embrace.

“L-Let me try,” He said as you pried his hands off of you. “Let me t-try to be better.”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do? You want me to beg you? Look, I’m begging you~”

“I’m sorry, E, I just can’t.”

Your broken heart crumbled further when he spoke your name, his tone pleading and desperate. You could count on one hand the number of times he’d called you by your name. Hearing his desperate voice saying it now made your legs feel weak beneath you. “Baby, you don’t have to do this. I-I mean what a-about Dawn~”

“She doesn’t need me.”

“…I need you.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek before you pulled away completely. You didn’t wait another second before rushing out of the room. You dried your tears uselessly as you shut the door behind yourself and walked away.

You stalled in the hall for a moment, looking over your shoulder as if he’d come racing after you at any moment. You waited for his door to open, you waited for him to continue begging you to stay.

When he didn’t, you took that first step—the hardest step—and walked away.

You dried your tears as best you could, trying to put on a brave face before going downstairs. You left Graceland that night without looking back. Tears clung to your lashes and spilt down your face, but you never once looked back.

You felt like you were leaving a part of yourself behind as you drove aimlessly—taking the first exit you saw to the nearest train station.

You thought about Dawn and how she would react upon discovering that you left and weren’t coming back. You would call her and explain everything when you got the chance. You knew she’d be worried.

You told yourself that you were making the right decision, that you were choosing yourself. And, even though it didn’t make you any less afraid, you were proud.

*

A/n:

Thank you so much for the kind words and encouragement, this is my first elvis fic and you all have been so kind and supportive <3

~a sinner

ps.i promise this isn’t the end for birdie and e <3

[nicoleheichou]

Girl Of My Dreams - Chapter 50: I 🩷 You

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Synopsis: Sakusa was the type to always get things done on his own, but now that he's forced to juggle between his successful pro-volleyball career and being a single dad, what happens when he enrolls his daughter in a new preschool and meets his daughter's new teacher? Will their relationship remain professional or will it evolve into something more?

Once you returned from your day out with Mrs. Sakusa, you found yourself spending the night avoiding Kiyoomi. You'd stick to his mother's side or use Kimi as a buffer. You didn't want to have that talk with him. You were nervous to hear that although he said you were his end game that maybe you were way more attached than he was. You didn't want to hear him tell you that you were getting ahead of yourself.

But now that Kimi had fallen asleep and was now comfortably tucked into bed, you knew the conversation was inevitable. "Can you stop avoiding me now darling so we can talk?" Kiyoomi says as he closes the door behind him, leaving a small crack to let the light shine through knowing the little girl can't sleep if the room was completely dark. You let out a sigh before nodding. "Okay." He puts out a hand for you which you hesitantly take, letting him lead you out onto the back porch and allowing him to help you settle onto the porch swing before placing a blanket over your laps. For a moment it's silent, the both of you just enjoying the night sky and the quiet the countryside brings.

"Do you want to tell me why you're avoiding me?" He questions while turning his head to the side so he could get a better look at you. "You know why I am." You can't help but pout not wanting to have to spell it out for him. "Actually, I don't. I don't know what I did to have you avoid me after we'd spent the whole day away from each other." He replies, a hand coming up to ruffle his curls. You notice the frown etched on his face, clearly not happy with you having avoided him the whole night.

You let out a sigh. You know you're being immature by pretending you don't know what he's talking about but you're worried he might not feel the same way, that he might think you're way too attached. "It's nothing you did Omi. It was what I did. I'm sorry I told you I love you and that I love the brat." You cover your face in hopes he doesn't see the redness of your cheeks even if it is dark out.

"Say that again." He says while gently prying your hands away from your face. Your eyes meet his before he's repeating himself. "Say that again darling." You let out a breath before mustering up the courage to repeat yourself. "I love you. I love you and Kimi." The biggest smile appears on his face, you could swear you've never seen him smile like this, you're worried if he smiled any wider that it would split his face in two. "I love you too darling. A lot." It's your turn to smile, the apples of your cheeks hurting from how wide you were grinning.

"Don't ever apologize for how you feel darling. Especially when it comes to love. Why would you think I'd be upset?" You just shrug your shoulders, unsure why you were even worried in the first place. You should have known that Sakusa wouldn't judge you or invalidate your feelings. "I thought you'd think I was getting ahead of myself." He moves a stray lock of hair behind your ear before looking into your eyes, a look of disbelief on his features. "And you don't think I am? I introduced you to my parents. I told you that you're my end game and I haven't even officially asked you to be my girlfriend. Darling, I think I'm more in love with you than you are with me."

You let out a laugh before you're burying your face in the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry for avoiding you. I should have known you'd be so understanding." You mumble against him which causes him to chuckle. "Why are you so perfect?" You can't help but whine, feeling a little embarassed that you wasted the evening avoiding him. "I'm far from perfect. But I want to remind you that you can always talk to me okay? Whatever it may be, I'm here for you and we'll get through it together. Okay?" You nod, knowing if you opened your mouth to respond that you'd start to cry. How did you get so lucky? He plants a kiss on the top of your head. "You love me?" He lets out a chuckle before nodding. "Yeah. I love you."

You hear the sliding door open, causing the both of you to turn towards the direction of the door. You're met with a toddler rubbing at her eyes. "What's wrong baby?" You question as you watch her make her way towards the both of you. "I woke up and I was alone." You can hear the wobble in her voice. "Come here brat. Did you think we left you?" Sakusa questions as he reaches for her. She shakes her head before she's being pulled onto her dad's lap. "I know you and mommy wouldn't leave me...but I couldn't find you or mommy and I was lonely. I don't want to be alone." You can tell she's pouting and you can't help but feel bad for her.

"Why don't we get you back in bed baby. We'll stay with you so you aren't alone. Does that sound good?" You suggest knowing she's still pretty tired if the yawn that escaped her lips was any indication. She nods her head before putting her arms out, signaling for you to carry her. Sakusa happily passes her into your arms before he's ushering the two of you inside. He can't help but smile when he watches Kimi easily melt into you, arms wrapping around your neck as she plants a tired kiss on your cheek. "I love you mommy." You don't skip a beat, quickly responding to her declaration. "I love you too baby." Sakusa wanted to engrave this moment in his brain, to replay whenever he was having a bad day.

Um I love them??

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[joelmillersdumbslut]

I took your matches before fire could catch me (part three) (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

summary: After making a "friends with benefits" deal with Joel Miller, you find yourself getting closer to him. Maybe too close. (no outbreak. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, masturbation, sexting, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), daddy kink, hand kink, creampie, mentions of alcohol (no consumption), sarah makes a guest appearance, some fluff

word count: 3.6k

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my first fic series, it truly means the world to me. i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i do! ♡

a03 link

You delete Lily as soon as you get home that morning. You figure you don’t have much of a use for it anymore. Plus, Joel was the only guy you had swiped on anyway.

The app asks if you found love as a reason for deleting your account. You decline to answer.

Joel had given you his number and you end up sexting each other for the next week. Your hands and vibrator work overtime as you fantasize over the texts he sends you.

Gonna bend you over the kitchen counter.

Gonna slide my cock into that tight pussy.

You like it when daddy fills you up, don’t you?

The anticipation of your next meetup is killing you. You wait for Joel to make the next move. And he does on Saturday morning.

Sarah’s at a friend’s house.

Well, it was more of a statement than an invitation. But, you ran with it anyway. You talk your way out of a speeding ticket on the way there. Surprisingly, the excuse that your grandmother is in the hospital works better than “My fuck buddy is waiting on me.” You park across the street again, Joel had said he didn’t want the neighbors to notice an unusual car stationed in front of the house. You think it’s overkill, but you obey like the good girl you are.

Today, you don’t have to knock to announce your arrival. Joel is already waiting on the porch, guitar in hand. He’s strumming chords to a song you don’t know. As you approach the steps, you watch his long fingers move between strings, slide between frets. You hate to admit it, but it’s turning you on already.

“What are you doing?” you greet him, leaning against the railing.

“What’s it look like?” he gruffs back at you.

“Are you planning to serenade me? I think that’s the sexiest kind of foreplay.”

“Did you come over just to be a smart-ass?”

“I was hoping maybe you’d fuck it out of me.”

He’s trying not to smile.

—

“We should be able to communicate with each other, right?” you ask Joel, flinging your bra across the room.

He makes a face as your dress and underwear are soon scattered around his already disorganized bedroom floor, but his annoyance disappears once he sees you naked.

“Sure,” he grunts, pulling off his own boxers, motioning for you to get on the bed.

You plop down on the mattress, the box spring squeaking against your movement.

“Good. Because I need to ask you something,” you say, sheepishly fiddling with a strand of your hair.

Joel raises his eyebrows. You take that as encouragement to continue.

“Can you like… Make me cum more than once?” you try to draw out your request as humorous and lighthearted, but your inflection is desperate. Horny. Unsatisfied. 

Joel frowns, crawling onto the bed. He says nothing at first as he lays between your legs. His finger traces circles on the inside of your thigh.

“I just—I need more of you. One isn’t enough,” you mumble. Your stomach churns, wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all.

“You gotta be a good girl.” 

You’re not happy with his answer.

“I am a good girl. We talked about this, Joel. I’m tired of this ‘good girl’ shit.”

Silence.

Just as you are about to tell him to forget it, that you take it all back and you’ll accept whatever number of orgasms he gives you, even if it’s nothing at all, he begins to eat your pussy. You notice again that it’s different from your first encounter at the bar. He starts out slow, his tongue rolling across your clit. He creates delicate stripes up and down your slit, but not before nudging his tongue inside your entrance. You can feel an inferno burning inside your stomach already and you restrain yourself from moaning, but Joel peers up from between your legs. His gaze is soft. And sweet. You can’t stop staring into his eyes.

“Wanna hear you,” he murmurs, his tongue rippling against your body even faster.

You let yourself go, shaking and flailing against his touch. You expect to switch positions, for Joel to be the one being pleased now, but he keeps going down on you. A rather unexpected welcome to your current dynamic. You close your eyes, focusing on the pleasure radiating throughout your body.

After your fourth orgasm, you fall asleep in Joel’s bed. You’re too sleepy to notice that he wrapped you up in a blanket and brushed the hair out of your face.

—

You’re disoriented when you wake up. Your eyes grow accustomed again to Joel’s bedroom, mid-afternoon light pouring in through the window. There’s noises downstairs and you wonder if he’s cooking for you again. The desire to keep sleeping fills you, but then you remember.

Joel didn’t cum at all.

You leap out of bed, gathering up your clothes and putting them on as you head downstairs. Once you get to the kitchen, you spot Joel setting pizza boxes down on the kitchen island. No one else is around. His daughter must not be home yet.

“I’m sorry,” you exclaim, hurriedly approaching him. You begin to undo his belt buckle. To your surprise, he’s already hard.

“Sorry for what?” he asks, amusement radiating across his face. He wants you to say it. He wants you to acknowledge what he did.

“You made me cum four times and you didn’t get to cum at all,” you whisper, turning around to bend yourself over the counter. “Come on, it’s your turn.”

Joel chuckles as he lifts up the hem of your sundress, pulling your panties to the side.

“You really are a good girl,” he purrs. The tip of his cock teases your entrance. “Already wet for me and you just woke up?”

You breathe deeply as he slides in. It hurts a little, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him stretching you. He starts pumping slowly and you rub your clit with one hand while keeping yourself upright against the counter with the other. Your body quivers as you feel the pressure building within your lower abdomen. You’re insatiable and Joel’s dick has you begging for more.

“Babygirl, why are you so tight?” he murmurs, thrusting faster now. “You gonna cum again? Four times ain’t enough?”

“If you keep hitting that spot right there, you’re gonna make it five times,” you whine, trying to maintain your balance against the kitchen counter.

“What, this spot right here?” you can hear Joel smile as he repositions himself, hitting that spongy area deep inside you. Your fingers move faster against your clit.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna—”

“What’s my name, babygirl?” he grunts back at you, “Call me by my name.”

Your heart skips a beat when you realize what he’s asking for. Your pussy throbs with each thrust and you find yourself whimpering, “I’m cumming, daddy.”

Joel fucks you through your orgasm, his hand rubbing your shoulder blade as you shake and shiver from his touch.

“I’m close,” he whispers, his cock drilling into you, “Where you want it?”

“My back,” you sputter between breaths as he hoists your dress higher, exposing your lower back to him. You instantly feel the liquid hit your skin, hot and viscous. The two of you breathe laboriously, and you hear Joel buckle his pants again.

“Babygirl, I—” he begins, but the two of you freeze as the sound of the front door opening rings through your ears.

“Shit,” he exclaims, yanking your dress back down to cover your ass. “Fuck, it got on your dress again.”

“Again? Joel, you’re gonna owe me a brand-new wardrobe after this,” you hiss, looking around fearfully for a place to hide. You start to wonder if there’s enough room for you behind the refrigerator when the sound of footsteps becomes louder.

“Take this,” Joel says, ripping off his button-down shirt and tossing it to you. You finish slipping it on over your newly stained dress and Joel smooths out the wrinkles of his t-shirt right as his daughter strolls into the kitchen.

“Dad, you’ll never guess who’s comin’ to Austin on tour!” Sarah pauses, registering your presence next to his. She glances between the two of you, then expectantly looks at her father for an explanation.

“Sarah, this is…” he looks to you, his eyes screaming for help.

“I’m his friend!” you push Joel out of the way, holding out your hand to shake Sarah’s. “I’ve heard so much about you, so nice to meet you. Who’s gonna be in Austin?”

Sarah notices your determined ambition to change the subject and she accepts it, still eyeing you a little suspiciously. “Taylor Swift,” she answers.

“No way! I’m a Swiftie too. Her ‘Reputation’ album is—” you hold your fingers up to your lips and kiss them. “Chef’s kiss. Just amazing.”

You glance at Joel, who’s now pulling plates out of the cabinet. You wonder how he could possibly be acting so calm at a time like this, when your cover has practically been blown, when rule number one has been torn to shreds.

A slow grin appears on Sarah’s face, “Hey, Dad, maybe you can take us?”

“Yeah, you and your friends will have a great time, Taylor puts on a great show,” you ramble, making small steps toward the hallway. You need to escape. Like now.

“No, I mean, the three of us,” Sarah smirks. “She can come with us, right, Dad?”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose–” you start, but Joel cuts you off.

“‘Course she can. I’ll look at tickets tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Sarah beams, turning back to you. “You’re stayin’ for dinner, right? Dad, can she stay?”

Joel’s composure doesn’t crack a bit. “You’re stayin’, right?”

You smile nervously, eyes darting back and forth between the father and daughter. “Sure, I love pizza.”

Joel places his hand on the small of your back and you squirm as the drying cum sticks to your skin. He lets out a low laugh, clearly knowing what he’s doing to you.

“I thought we were ‘friends,’” you mumble.

“Sarah ain’t stupid. Just play along, will ya?” he whispers back.

You nod slowly, picking up a plate off the counter and plopping a slice of pizza onto it. All you can think about is how you want to run to your car and never come back. How Sarah doesn’t recognize you is beyond you. You think it must be impossible that Sarah didn’t hear about the girl Uncle Tommy slept with. Your anxiety is conjuring up images of Tommy describing you in detail to the whole family, demanding they stay away from a harlot such as yourself.

But, by some miracle, Sarah doesn’t say a single word to you about that. Instead, she interrogates you about Joel.

“So, how’d you two meet?”

You stare at Joel. His mouth is conveniently full, so he gestures for you to answer.

“Um. A dating app,” you respond, picking pepperoni off the slice on your plate. You gingerly take a bite and chew thoroughly before swallowing. You wonder if you could fake an illness or injury, find a way to get out the door faster.

Sarah smiles insidiously, “So, you’re not just friends then… What did y’all do on your first date?”

“We, uh. We met at the bar,” you squawk, feeling feverish as you recall the events that transpired in that dirty bar bathroom.

“Played pool. Sang some karaoke. Didn’t we, sweetheart?” Joel’s lie is masked by a dark smile. He squeezes your arm, his gigantic fingers wrapping around your wrist. All you can think about is his touch, and you wonder if you’re going to pass out on the kitchen floor.

“You got my dad to sing karaoke?” Sarah narrows her eyes as if she’s caught you again in your elaborate lie, “What song was it?”

“Pearl Jam,” Joel answers for you. “She really likes ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you stutter, totally not knowing what the hell a Pearl Jam is, “Great songs for karaoke. Especially… Ah, you know, that one Joel really likes. He, uh, even played it for me on his guitar.”

You feel sweat clinging to your hairline. You’re not a good liar. You can feel the lightning in the clouds preparing to strike you down right here in Joel’s kitchen.

“Dad played you a song on his guitar?” she scoffs, nibbling on the crust of her pizza. “He doesn’t even do that for me. He must really like you.” She punctuates her sentence with an eyebrow waggle.

Your face burns red and you stare down at your plate. Remembering those words Joel had said to you only a week ago.

I don’t like you.

You’re about to excuse yourself, ready to grab your purse and run out the door, when Joel places his arm around your waist.

“Sure do,” he murmurs.

—

After dinner, Joel offers to walk you to your car. You wrap yourself in his shirt even tighter as you stand outside the door of your vehicle, Joel’s hands in his pockets.

“Do you actually like me?” you blurt out, then cover your mouth with your hand. Why the fuck did you say that?

Joel pulls your hand away. He holds it in his, staring at your fingers before he looks at you and speaks.

“Look. I realized I was wrong. What happened with you and my brother…” he shrugs. “Not entirely your fault. You were a kid. Guess you still kinda are.”

Relief washes over you. But, you realize he still hasn’t answered your question yet. And you realize you may never know. And for some reason, that fills you with dread. You wobble back and forth on the balls of your feet, your hand reaching for your car’s door handle.

“You know,” Joel says suddenly, “Sarah’s watchin’ us from the window.”

“She is?” you ask, trying to peer past him.

“Gotta make this look real,” he chuckles.

Then he’s leaning in to kiss you. You can’t help but hold onto him for dear life as his lips crash into yours. A moan bubbles up from within your chest, Joel wrapping you up in his arms. The space between you diminishing by the second. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls away and you quietly pray for more. Then he kisses your forehead in finality.

“You’re cute, babygirl.”

The line between truth and fiction is quickly becoming a blur for you.

—

It’s not until you’re blowing Joel in your living room that you realize you’re developing feelings for him.

It crops up suddenly when you’re on your knees, with him sitting on the couch. His eyes are closed while you take him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down along his length. He’s absentmindedly playing with your hair as your tongue flicks against his skin. You’re content in this moment. You think about how you’re going to order takeout after you’re done fucking, probably Chinese food again. You think about how you’re going to curl up in bed together before round two, talk about your respective days at work, how Sarah’s doing in school. You think about how you’re secretly hoping that he kisses you on your lips. A real kiss, like he gave you when you were lying together in his bed. Or like the one he gave you when Sarah was watching you in the driveway. And maybe he’ll kiss you for real again. And again. And again.

Actually. Maybe you had these feelings all along.

And when Joel cums in your mouth as he groans, “Babygirl,” you realize you’ve broken his no attachments rule.

What are you gonna do about it?

—

I need you.

Erase. You sound pathetic and pitiful. It worked one time, but would it work again? You sound and feel desperate. But, you are.

Can you come over? Bad day at work.

The truth. You missed some deadlines, got yelled at by your boss, spilled coffee all over your paperwork. But, does Joel need to know you want him to come running to you every time something goes wrong? Isn’t that a little too domestic for your situationship?

You groan and fling your phone onto your bed. You hold your head in your hands. You wish it could be simpler. You wish the past could stay in the past, but you know it’s going to come back to rear its ugly head.

And it’s all your fault.

Your phone vibrates and you retrieve it from the mountain of pillows on your bed. It’s Joel.

Hey, babygirl.

Haven’t heard from you.

You okay?

It’s only been a day since you last texted him. And he’s worried? Maybe you’re projecting. He probably just wants to fuck.

No.

You don’t know what else to say. You wonder if he’ll leave you be to wallow. You wonder if he’s sitting there, contemplating a response. You wonder if you’re even worthy of receiving one. But, he texts back immediately.

On my way.

How can you not be in love with Joel?

—

Joel arrives with a paper bag in his hands. He sets it down on the counter. It’s late at night and you’re already wearing your pajamas. He doesn’t seem to mind, especially since he can tell you’re not wearing a bra.

The two of you stand in the kitchen, looking around aimlessly.

Finally, you break the awkward silence. 

“What’d ya bring me?” you ask, taking a peek inside the bag.

“Just a little somethin’,” Joel responds, and you swear you could see his smile underneath the glow of the kitchen light.

You pull out a blue bottle, marveling at the label. It’s your favorite wine. He remembered. How did he remember? Why did he remember?

“You didn’t have to do that,” you blush, and he takes your hand in his.

“Come on, babygirl. Let daddy make you feel better.”

—

Joel is looming over you. He just peeled off your shirt and he’s now playing with the drawstring of your shorts. Taking his sweet time. Making you ravenous and wet beneath him. He leaves kisses on your collarbones, his saliva sticking to your skin. In your apartment, you can be as loud and unabashed as you want. And you are.

“Whaddya say we get these off you?” Joel smirks, helping you shimmy out of your pajama shorts. He toys with the waistband of your underwear, you squirm underneath him. You want him. So badly.

“What’s wrong, babygirl?” He lowers himself down to the bed, kissing your thighs.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sigh, maybe a little too contentedly, “I just… I just want you.”

“Where do you want me?” he asks, his lips brushing up against your clothed pussy. 

You inhale. Sharply. “Right. There,” you whine.

“How many times you think I can make you cum tonight?” his words reverberate against you, his fingers rubbing you from the outside of the fabric.

Your breath hitches, it takes everything in you not to tear off your underwear yourself. But, you've learned with Joel that you have to be patient. That you have to be a good girl. And you will be rewarded.

“At least three,” you mumble.

“Then, we’ll make it three,” he agrees.

—

Joel pushes into you with ease. He breathes deeply, cracking a grin.

“Don’t think I could ever get tired of this pussy,” he pumps in and out of you. Slowly at first. But, your moans inspire him to speed up.

Your arms drape around his frame, you dig your fingernails into his back, sure to leave marks in the morning. He doesn’t care. He’ll wear them with pride.

You move one of your hands down to your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves as fast as you can. The stimulation is almost overpowering. Your eyes are closed, your body clenching down on his.

“This number three, sweetheart?” Joel’s lips graze your earlobe. You can tell he’s getting close too, his voice shaky, his movements sloppy. “Let it all out, cum all over me.”

And you do as you’re told, your cum soaking his cock even more.

“Where you want me, babygirl?” He pounds into you harder, faster.

“Inside,” you whimper underneath him.

And he cums without hesitation. His cock pulses and twitches inside you. His seed overflowing between your legs.

You lay there. Joel on top of you. He stares into your eyes, his hand caressing your cheek.

You have to do it.

You have to say what’s been on your mind for the past week.

“Joel, I love you.”

The words hang in the air. Swaying back and forth between you two like a pendulum. The world stops turning, if just for a moment. You wait for him to say something. Anything. Your bottom lip quivers. His eye twitches. He opens his mouth.

And just as quickly as it had stopped, the world is back to spinning. And it’s spinning so fucking fast. Everything’s out of control. Joel sits up. He’s out of bed. He’s snatching up his clothes from the floor. He’s bolting out of your room. The apartment door slams.

You’re all alone.

—

[p5x-theories]

Joker in P5X

(last updated 6/4/24!)

Joker- who goes by the name Ren Amamiya in this game- is primarily present as a Phantom Idol, or cognitive teammate. However, thus far, Joker has had a slightly greater role in the main plot than any other P5 Phantom Thief.

He first appears during Wonder's dream at the very start of the game, which takes place during the escape from Sae's Palace. He briefly glitches into Wonder for a second, but then is later attacked by a Wonder in a white mask, and the dream ends with the white-masked Wonder shooting him.

Joker appears later to rescue Wonder and Cattle in Mementos after they're overwhelmed by shadows. He fights by their sides, then disappears into blue fire, his final word being "resist". Merope doesn't know what Wonder's talking about when Wonder mentions this to her, so it seems unlikely that he was a Phantom Idol- or at least, unlikely that he was a Phantom Idol that she created.

In the P5 Collab, Joker appears towards the end of the Castle Chapter, after the group has spent most of the collab up to that point looking for him. He helps out with the shadows they're fighting, then accompanies them for the remainder of this chapter before everyone leaves the castle.

Ren can also be found in Leblanc in the real world, which Wonder is for some reason capable of crossing worlds to visit. He offers Wonder coffee and/or curry, and their conversations are often about cooking.

Joker’s Persona Arsene (whom he is limited to as a Phantom Idol, unable to switch Personas) is categorized as a Curse type, and resists Curse while being weak to Bless.

Arsene is a Control Persona, meaning he’s good at dealing with groups of enemies, and his trait gives him one level of "Evil Energy" for each enemy under 50% health at the end of his turn. When he has three levels, he can take another turn immediately after his normal turn. He has three curse attack skills: the first hits all enemies with a chance to inflict the curse status effect, and gives Joker one level of Evil Energy; the second hits one enemy, and if there's only one enemy on the field, Joker gains two levels of Evil Energy; the third hits all enemies, doing more damage if they have a status affliction and/or if this was cast on Joker's extra turn. His passive skills buff Joker's attack based on how many levels of Evil Energy he has, and cause him to do extra damage on his extra turn.

As in P5, his melee weapon is a dagger, while his ranged weapon is a handgun. His Highlight is shown from 0:00 - 0:14 in this video, and it hits all enemies with a curse attack, and gives Joker a level of Evil Energy.

His recommended card sets are 1) 8 of Swords (Interference) + Knight of Wands (Departure), 2) 4 of Coins (Power) + Page of Coins (Growth).

The game recommends teaming him up with 1) Rin, 2) Mona, 3) Moko.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

On Air [Chapter One] Smile [Alastor]

A/n: this is my first attempt at a Hazbin Hotel fic. I was inspired by 'Trials and Tribulations' by Mrs_Divinity on AO3(if you have not read this, please do) to write this. The story will contain dark content, so please heed the warnings. I'll add more as I go. Please enjoy.

The first chapter is going to be short for various reasons. And because I have lots of fics to update, this story will be a bit slow on updates but don't worry I won't abandon it.

Summary: Aelia is a hopeless romantic, so much so, that she makes a deal with an enigmatic man named Alastor whom she communicates with via a wireless radio that she found in the attic of her new home. It's not until she winds up in hell after a spree of brutal murders does she come to realize that the voice she trusted and longed to meet belongs to a demon overlord who now owns her soul.

And to make matters worse, her new demon body only reacts to him.

Will she seek redemption? Or be forever stuck to a demon who wishes to use her as an escape from boredom? Stay tuned.

Warning(s): Original female character, blood, and death, emotional manipulation, the OC is a serial killer, hopeless romantic, dark content, short chapter, false love, unhealthy relationship, and dark content.

No Minors Allowed!!

The putrid stench of death permeated the humid Tennessee air, a blend of feces and rotting flesh, but that was the least of Aelia’s concerns. 

She was at the end of the line. 

Red and blue lights bounced off the walls of her 50s fixer-upper home and despite the persistent thundering bang on her front door, Aelia did not move. She remained hunched in the corner of her bedroom, embracing a wireless Cathedral radio in a cherry wood case against her chest. 

Her heart raced as the fear of being caught dawned on her. After everything she had done; the brutal murders and the kidnappings, now she was feeling remorse. But why? She had the world in her hands. What was there to be scared of? Her life was just starting.  

“Alastor–” Aelia paused upon hearing the sound of her voice. Never had she heard something so pathetic and weak. “Talk to me…please.”

The radio hissed as two separate sound waves tried to simultaneously coexist, and then a voice as low and intense as radio static broke through; a voice Aelia yearned to hear. 

“It's nearly that time, isn't it? Tick tock. Tick tock.”

“I'm scared,” Aelia admitted. As soon as the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted it. But she knew better than to apologize.

Alastor tsked. 

“Don't lose your pluck, my dear. I still need you.”

Her heart raced and her face heated up. He needed her. His patience knew no bounds. Aelia clutched the radio tighter, wishing to hold the man behind the voice for he was the only one who gave her a reason to smile. Alastor was the angel on her shoulder, helping her take back her life. 

The day she found the radio sealed off in the attic of her new home was the best day of her life. 

“You're everything to me.”

Alastor chuckled. 

“Yes, yes. I know.”

A loud bang shook the house as the front door was kicked from its hinges. Aelia could hear the heavy footsteps of the officers as they piled into the house. The fear returned, but she took an uneasy breath and tried to sound brave.

“What do I do?”

“Why, go and meet your guests, my dear. Don't be rude,” Alastor insisted. “And remember to smile. You're not fully dressed without one.” 

Aelia stood, despite her body begging her not to, and tottered toward her bedroom door; her blood-stained dress clung to her like a second skin. She could hear the shock and disgust of the officers as she stood at the top of the stairs, knowing that it did not take them long to locate her most recent victims; she left them out as a sign of hospitality.

An officer with an elderly appearance was the first to see her, widening his eyes. Aiming his Glock 22 at her, he yelled at her to get down, gaining the attention of the other three. 

Each of them raised their guns, but Aelia did not cower. She hugged the radio against her chest and with all the strength she could, she forced a wide smile. 

Soon…my love.

[spyxfamilyanalysis]

SPY × FAMILY analysis Ep.2 pt. 2.2

Mission: 2 - Secure a Wife

~Comparing to Manga~ Chapter 2 (continue)

Warning?: There may be some profanity in this post, and the after half sounds silly :)

Now we know in the previous part, I have discussed the opening theme, and some first parts of the episode, now we are going to continue on Yor and the deal between her and Loid

After the phone call...

We could understand the pressure Yor is having: her brother's approval, and the condition to bring someone who is willing to help her for Camilla's party. Because, bringing some random man without knowing him is a very bad idea, as Mr. Dominic will inform this man to Yuri, and if he found out Yor still does not have a "someone", who knows what he will react?

We do know that Camilla's party is essential, for a co-worker like Yor, to attend, but of course, it's optional as well. In Camilla's thought, there's a 50-50 (or even a 90% chance) whether Yor will come or not. She will, if she found a boyfriend, and won't, if she does not. If it's a latter case, Camilla will automatically think Yor is single (at the age of 27). However, despite that, whether or not, Yor will still attend, even if it might negatively affect her dignity as a woman... but because it is for stronger bond with the co-workers, she still goes.

A sudden phone call cross her train of thought... It's "Shopkeeper", her employer from the Garden, a secret assassination organization. (we might wanna remember his name, because he will appear in the later chapters). Actually, from the voice of him, he looks rather be in the 40s, but when we see him in the future chapters from the manga, I thought he looks older than that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "job"

Yor was ordered to meet this "fortunate" guest at Royal Hotel, Room 1307. Interestingly, did you know that "1307" is an angel number? Though this is just my coincidence, I found out that this number may actually have special meaning, that it probably describes Yor a lot. In Angel Number 1307: Meaning and Symbolism: "In terms of love, Angel Number 1307 means perfection in a love relationship. At present, you are facing some trust issues in your love life, so the angels are urging you to trust your partner. There should be an attempt to understand each other better so that the love and chemistry between you increase and not diminish."

As ordered, Yor had finally revealed herself as an assassin known as "Thorn Princess". The reason is because many details of her assassin dress has roses patterns. According to the Wikipedia: Yor wears a form-fitting halter-style black dress that shows off her shoulders and cleavage, with a rose choker and a red rose pattern on the inside of her skirt.[...] She also wears a pair of black thigh-high boots with a rose symbol at the bottom of their sole and black fingerless gloves. The headband she wears is gold colored with a rose and two spikes on each side.[...] This outfit was the only good dress she had before marrying Loid, after which she purchased more formal wear to better present herself for Eden Academy's interview.

It is said that she had been doing this dirty work at a very young age, and it was later revealed that she did this job after her parents' death, leaving the siblings alone as orphans. To take good care of Yuri, somehow, Yor became an assassin, trained under the Director (appeared in the Cruise Ship arc's chapters). With that, she made a lot of money to buy things for Yuri to study. When she was young, she worked day and night to financially support the two, until Yuri was finally able to get a good job, she only needs to do night shifts as she may not need to get much money like before.

Though this is unrelated, Yor demanded: "May I have the honor of taking your life?" in the manga, while the anime: "I'm sorry to have bothered you, but could I choke the life out your body, Mister?". The anime made Yor so "polite" to the victim, and she just said "choke the life out your body", leaving so much bloodlust >:)

You may also notice, in the anime, the dead bodies were not shown full body nor clearly, yet it only shown some parts that does not contain the bloody scenes, or in dark shadows.

Mr. Curly Hair returned

A very funny detail that was not mentioned in the anime: Anya was shocked whether or not Franky become the new mom

A very cute detail: When Franky was angrily shouted at Loid, Anya was so scared, she hid behind the sofa. And when Anya asked if she was a bother, Loid gently pat her head :3

Yor meets Loid

As you can tell, Yor silently walked pass Loid without him recognizing, and even knowing that she is being stared at, surprised him a lot. That is because Yor had been going under many trainings to become an assassin.

Secretly sneaking behind a target without being realized was one of the basic skills, by covering much of your bloodlust, the target may see you becoming invisible behind them (I learned that from Killua, one of the Zoldyck's family members in the anime Hunter x Hunter)

To cover up the reason why he's been targeting Yor, he had to made up a reason because she's pretty (Is that a lie!? That's just literally mean you can flirt with her!)

And then Anya interrupted the two's conversation 😏, and accidentally read Yor's mind. Lucky that Loid is still single, otherwise, she would've killed his wife :)(which he doesn't have one) Anya's so shocked that Yor is an assassin!

Spy + Assassin = Waku waku! - Anya Forger~

This is so perfect, Loid needs a woman to be his "wife", and Yor needs a man to be a "boyfriend", To kill two birds with one stone! Anya has to act so well to get these 2 together, be sure to thank her later, Loid!

Loid is very good at lying, he even lied that his "ex-wife" really wanted Anya to attend the prestigious Eden Academy, even a 5-year-old can figure that out, but Yor believed him :) And so, they'll meet each other at Saturday night.

Before the night~

As it seems, the anime has a name of the shop Anya and Loid went to, DLID, open from 8:00 to 21:00. This was not shown in the manga, I dunno why?

And I was actually searching for the meaning of this sequence of numbers in Twilight's secret extra mission... And I really don't know the meaning of this numbers at all. At first, I thought you have to translate the numbers using the japanese alphabet, but then I forgot that Japan has 4 alphabets, and I dunno Japanese, so I can't really translate this message full of numbers. I really dunno if Tatsuya Endo writes random numbers or he writes the sequence of the code in numbers.

However, I do notice number 95822 was repeated 2 time in the second row. Number 58919 in third row 2nd column was a bit similar to 18951 & 58921 in fifth row; so my prediction that these numbers may have the same words, or sounds, or even handwriting (if we are talking about Japanese alphabet). Well I can't guess the sequence of the numbers, but generally, there are many numbers that are really alike, they may have small changes in the position of the numbers, or some numbers are changes into different ones.

Also fact about this numbers: When I try adding the 5 digits numbers together, some sums are the same, like 32076 in first row and 22482 in second row have sums of 18, 23486 and 84272 in the first column row 3 and 5 have sums of 23...

Secondly, if you minus and plus the sums of the number in sequence -+-+-+..., like (6+4+6+5+6)-(9+0+6+5+9)+(3+2+0+7+6)-(2+2+4+8+2)-.....+....., all the way to the end, it will = -1 :))

Yes, it took me some time to calculate this sequence of numbers :))

And how surprising that it is on Saturday, and also the day he met Yor for her friend's party. Not good, bro!

The night mission

While Loid was with Franky going on a secret mission, Yor was waiting him for very long... hoping that he wouldn't get into any trouble...

Well, they actually were. The bad gang noticed, and they were trying to capturing the two men. The little difference is: In the anime, Twilight was less panic, and calculating the situation, while Franky quickly ran away with the "treasure", yet in the manga, it seems that he was a bit more panic, as he was running and taking care of the gang.

And in the manga, we can tell that when Twilight decided to get the ring, he seems emotionless... while in the anime, he seems to smile a bit!

And there you have it! A car crash during an extra mission! :)) Classic~ right at the time Yor was being lonely at the party :)

The party night

Who left an innocent and beautiful lady at this time bruh!?

Tips for men, if you are going on a "date" or hangout in general with a girl, don't make she wait for you, like how Loid did to Yor, instead, girls can be a bit late for boys >:))) But honestly, both of you should be on time, for great first impression~ if we are talking about first times~ But that's not happening to me :")) Me single bruh

Yes people, this is from wiki: "Yor has been left waiting at the station and she assumes she has been played, but decides to attend the party on her own to prevent her brother from worrying."

And yes, I'm not gonna describe the details of what happened at the party, go and watch the episode by urself, Im here to say that this sassy little b1tch Camilla and her coworkers keep bullying Yor. To make her miserable or something bruh

But you know what they say, He laughs best who laughs last. Loid showed up right on time when we was still covered in blood and bam!: "Yor my wife, Ima her husband!" >:DDDD (evil laughing with broken english~)

And booom, jealousy Cam (I call that shorten for Camilla, keep error tying stuff), Loid too handsome and nice -> Ship TwiYor now! (is this ship outdated?)

And she threw out her trump card, badmouth Yor:

And then, bam! Loid stepped in! (This is too good! I cannot summarize the dialogue :")) ) Bruh he left her speechless, and she is grasped with admiration~

This is literal flirt? Twiyor canon ?

The revenge? Confession!?

As Loid truly apologized to Yor for what happened earlier, and we do seem know what was about the happen next, and since this is not a spoiler for next episode or anything, I won't go full details about the fight

I will now focus on the conversation between the two. In the anime, Loid seemed to speak more calmly about the "incident", but somehow, the manga made him speak a bit overreact?!

When suddenly,... you know what happened next. The remnants of the syndicate earlier, they want revenge bruh. I don't think they know that was Twilight. Man, he kept his identity too well, and also his lying is not bad (but ofc can't fool Anya). Yor believed his words that they are his patients. Because you know, in "believe" there is "lie"

And omg, in the manga, he thought:

But it is totally different in the anime, not as the insult:

And one of them almost killed Twi-Loid, and check at Yor people:

This might be the lamest excuse Yor has ever come up.

Seriously, though, how is it possible for a woman to kick a man jumping behind you, so accurately and so strong that he rolled and hit the wall. No wonder why Loid was speechless...

Because physically, a woman cannot hit a man with her legs that strong, the worst scenario would be he fell immediately on the ground, not suffering a few more rolls :))

And finally, the one-and-only confession, "He notices a grenade near an unconscious smuggler and grabs it before ducking behind a generator. Loid pulls the pin and hurls the grenade at the smugglers while using the pin as a wedding ring" (because he lost it) for Yor, (and they got "married")

I mean, before that, our man Loid was shocked, he fell on the ground :P

Watch at this moment: The confession

Yes this is extreme as hell bruh

This is the end of the full analysis of Spy x Family episode 2. Thank you so much for take your time reading.

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

A few words from the "author" of this post (me)

As you may know, I am suffering studying at school, because this is an important year for me, and I only have a few months left before I graduate high school and take my entrance exam for university. So I will mainly inactive in this blog, unlike my main blog @laurenmiki06. (well, I also mainly look for BSD fan pic).

But don't worry, I still have my Anya facts working on, just not these days, that's all. Probably, I will secretly work on other facts post and continuing on episode 3 analysis. But I may have a bad feeling that you might have to wait for next year :"))

Yes, episodes in season 2 has finally come to an end. So I will keep updating the ep's name in my main post first, and maybe starts watching the episodes (though I know how it ends already: manga spoilers)

Overall, thank you so much for cheering me up! See you again one day :))

[thesullengrrrl]

We'll Meet Again - Chapter 3

London called, Elaine Byrne answers...without warning.

A/N: Someone's going to make an appearance here because I love that character and I want him to be here. Hope it won't take you out of here or something. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think. AO3 link is here if you prefer reading there. On to the chapter!

Chapter 3: somehow, somewhere

Hammersmith, London

November 2026

Hal Byrne never really drove around London. He always considered this city as a walkable one, and driving is just another way to add more in his carbon footprint. However, her daughter is in his city and sure as hell he would spoil her, even if it means he would get honked at by fellow drivers.

His passengers were the loves of his life—his partner David and his only daughter, Elaine. 

“Hal, you know you could go faster,” David urged him. 

Hal groaned. “I’m fine, dear. Just talk to Laney.” 

Elaine and David shared a look.

“I offered to drive but he wouldn’t budge. He said he wanted to drive you just like he did in New York before,” he shared. 

“Dad, you only drove during the summer when we went upstate,” she revealed, smiling. “We always took the subway.”

“Laney! Not fair! I was trying to show—” 

“Watch the road!” the two shrieked. Hal managed to smoothly turn the car, and the building was already on sight. There was no parking in front of the hotel, so Hal went to the nearby park where there were other cars parked. When he was properly parked, they got out of the car. 

Hal opened the trunk and pulled his daughter’s suitcase. 

Elaine watched David and her father tag team on locking the doors and closing the trunk. Both of them are in their 50s, and she does not miss the looks of women whenever she’s walking with them. David has worked as an art director, while her father Hal, works as a professor in Oxford. 

The three of them walked towards the hotel, while David was motioning ‘stop’ to oncoming motorists. A doorman opened the door and welcomed them.

“Laney, darling, I’m going to see you on Monday, all right? Call me or David if you need anything,” Hal reminded her daughter as they stood in the lobby. 

“Dad, I got both of your numbers with me,” Elaine repeated to her father, waving her phone. They had spent the first two days of her stay in a house in Norfolk where they attended a will-reading of Hal’s great uncle.

They both received a reasonable sum of money and a few books—copies of some classics and modern poetry books. The money was directly deposited on their accounts while a box of books was given to them when the reading ended. Elaine was a little touched by this act. She did not realize that across the pond, there was an old relative that thought of her despite the passing of time and distance.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us?” David asked. “We’re happy to have you, you know.”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry about me,” Elaine assured them. 

Hal hugged his daughter. “All right, darling. Your old men won’t bother you and your secret boyfriend anymore. I’ll see you on Monday. Keep safe and call me.” 

Elaine laughed. “If I do, you would’ve met him by now.” If you only knew, dad. You could write about this. “I’ll be fine. Love you.” 

“Love you too, Laney.” 

Elaine hugged David too, saying her goodbyes. 

Hal and David walked back to the exit and Elaine watched them until they crossed the street. She will always be thankful that her father found someone to love and loves him back. 

She went to the reception to check herself in.

“You’re all set, Ms. Byrne. You’re in room 215,” the kind-looking woman told her while handing her the key with the hotel fob in it. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

She took her duffle bag and headed to her room.

--

It was spacious enough for two people, she thought.

She hung her coat at the back of the door and strode across the room to inspect it. The bed was decently sized with clean sheets and pillows, and fresh towels at the foot of the bed. The walls were sage green and white. It has a small wooden study table and chair near the window. She opened the windows and it has a good view of London. It wasn’t very high, but enough for her to have a scope of it. The wardrobe was spacious. She tried to place herself in it and was comfortable. Perfect, she thought. Next, she visited the bathroom and was pleased that it had a tub. It was also accented with green checkered tiles, which added to the charm. 

Putting the towels on the nearby chair, she laid down on the bed. In a few hours, she may or may not see Rosie. She hoped for the former. It has been a long time and an apology is something she needed to say. 

It was only 3 in the afternoon. Rosie told in his letter that they’ll meet at 6 in the evening in the Hammersmith Palais. Wherever that is, she’ll figure it out later. For now, she has to settle her place at the other side of time. 

Wearing her coat back on and empty duffle bag, she entered the wardrobe and moments later, opened it up to find room 215 now with different interiors. The room was now cozier with printed curtains and plain cream walls. The desk was now in front of a window, and a few steps from it was a vanity and a stand lamp. A reading chair in burgundy was adjacent to her bed, which is now smaller than her present one. This is good enough, she thought. 

She tiptoed until she reached the outside. Room 215 is not her room at this time, at least not yet. When a bellboy almost bumped into her, she just smiled at him and walked to the nearest elevator. She tried not to look as if she’s a woman on a mission. 

The elevator pinged and as she walked to the reception, she spotted a tall figure in an olive army dress uniform, writing in the hotel’s ledger. Could it be…?

Elaine went to the nearby lobby chairs to observe who it was. She picked up a newspaper to hide her face, which she found funny but who cares. When she heard keys jangling, she lowered the paper and it was too late. She watched the backs of two tall men in olive uniforms walk beside each other and carrying duffle bags. Damn, I didn’t get to see their faces! 

The elderly man beside her cleared his throat. “Miss, could I…?” 

She turned to him and he motioned for the paper she was holding. Elaine gave it to him and walked towards the reception. 

“Hello. I’d like to check in please,” she requested. The young man in a gray, buttoned hotel uniform smiled at him. His name tag has THOMAS written on it.

“Only for the night, ma’am?” he asked. 

“No, until Sunday, please.” 

“Very well, sign your name here and payment,” he instructed. Elaine did as she instructed and paid upfront. 

As she wrote, she said, “A friend stayed here and she was in room 215. Lovely view, she mentioned. Can I request that same room, too?” 

Elaine saw it first. The keys of the room for room 215 are on the board behind the man. She let the man check it, so as to not tempt anything.

“Well, you’re in luck, ma’am. It’s empty and now yours,” he replied as he plucked the keys from the board behind him. He slid the ledger back to his view and read where she wrote.

Handing it to her, he said, “You’re all set. Have a wonderful stay, Miss Byrne.” 

“I will, Thomas. Thank you.” she grinned and went back to the elevator. 

Now with a secure line from both times, she laid down on her bed for a moment. It wasn’t as soft as the one in the present, but that will do for her. A clock on the bedside table said it was fifteen minutes to four. 

After a long drive from Norfolk to London, a nap is in order. 

---

It was 5 in the afternoon and Elaine was done showering. Her hair demands a little bit more of time now, since she got it a tad lighter two weeks before. Bunny taught her how to take care of it, and now she’s detangling her hair, groaning. The shoulders of her navy shirt are slightly drenched as she combed. The price of looking presentable, she thought. 

Fifteen minutes before six, and she was ready.  The brown box coat fit snugly on her and its big pockets were enough to bring her essentials—some powder, lipstick, a hanky, and mints. Her phone was locked in the hotel’s provided safe. One more sweep of red lipstick across her lips and she was all set. She opened the wardrobe and entered inside.

---

Hammersmith Palais

November 1943

Elaine reached Hammersmith Palais at exactly 6 in the evening alone. While walking, she caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby store window. Her navy dress with slight puffed sleeves draped well on her, her heels did her legs a favor, and her hair felt a bit too formal for her liking, but she liked the contrast of her hair against the dark dress. The red lipstick was the main highlight of her outfit, she observed. I look good! 

Thankfully, it is only a few blocks away and with other people walking with her, she’s safe. 

In 1943, she had to show up and trust that he would show up as well.

Men and women started lining up ten minutes after she came. She started searching the lines if he was there, maybe he lined up already to save time. But he was not there.. She shifted her weight on each leg and wrapped her coat around her more as the wind breezed in the area. I should’ve written to him. Damn it, why didn’t I try to write from the future to the past?

Twenty minutes later, she decided to line up. She still continued to scan the area as the line moved. When she finally reached the doors, she took one last look at the area to see if he was there. Still no Rosie. Maybe he forgot. Made other plans.

When she entered, the lively jazz music welcomed her and the guests, signifying a start of what might be an exciting night. 

There was a stage at the end of the room, a bar and tables and chairs on each side of the dancefloor. There was also another area upstairs where guests could sit, dine, and observe dancers. Couples gathered on the dancefloor, dancing, touching, some fully making out under the dim lights. The ceilings were decorated with lights and different flaglets of assorted colors.

Elaine couldn’t help but get absorbed in the excitement. This place felt like its own country, as if there was no war going on outside the walls. 

As she sat at the bar and nursing a tall glass of beer, she heard the chair beside her creak. As she turned, she saw a handsome brown haired man in an olive army uniform. The US and winged pins on his lapels gleamed. His hair is tousled due to the humidity of the room making it shine too. His sparse mustache is evident, like a teenage boy’s first mustache. Why do some men not commit to an actual mustache instead of half-assing it! Be better, men! 

She did not realize she was staring until he came up quite close to her face and grinned.

“Hi there,” Elaine greeted, a little off guard. 

“Oh, an American!” the man observed. “That’s new. Where are you from?” 

“Brooklyn,” she shared. “How about you, sir?” 

“Manitowoc.”

“And where is that?” 

“Wisconsin!” the man declared, a little bit too proudly. “I’m John Egan. People call me Bucky.”

She shook the man’s extended hand with a smile. “I’m Elaine. Elaine Byrne.” 

Bucky motioned his hand towards the dance floor. “Wanna dance, Elaine Bird?” 

“I said Byrne,” she asserted. 

“Ah, I heard ‘bird’. That’s what I’m gonna call you now. Wanna dance, birdie?” 

This charmed Elaine enough. “All right, John Egan.” 

He finished his clear shot and paid for both of their drinks. Then he extended his hand, which she accepted and they went off to the dance floor. There was still space to move around, so they stood adjacent to each other and started moving to the beat.

She took a glance at the sidelines, checking any signs of another American uniformed officer. Nothing.

Rosie can go find me on the dance floor.

---

When three lively songs ended, thankfully, the band turned into more somber music. 

Bucky smoothly slid his arm at her back, while she struggled a little to reach John because of his height. She thought he must be around over six feet. The two caught their breaths for a moment then they moved in closer, almost cheek to cheek. Elaine felt a bit feminine with this tall, broad man towering over her, swaying with her to this soft music. She avoided John’s gaze, feeling a little shy. He must have sensed this and started talking. 

With his deep voice, he asked. “What brought you to England?”

“A will-reading,” Elaine answered, without thinking.

“Whose?” 

“My father’s old uncle. He asked me to come with him because his partner couldn’t make it, so here I am.”

“And…what brings you to this side of town?” John questioned, this time his breath near her ear. 

“I’m meeting a friend…” Elaine trailed off. “But that friend seemed to have forgotten, so here I am. Dancing with you.”

“Good thing he forgot,” John replied, winking at her. 

Elaine felt the corners of her mouth pull a smile and shook her head. Bunny would’ve liked Bucky.

“Say, what brought you to England, John Egan?” she asked, deciding to match his energy.

“My job,” he answered. “I’m a pilot.” 

That explains the game and air of arrogance, she thought. “Ah. That makes sense.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You have this air of casual confidence, you know? Like you can do anything,” Elaine observed. “And you will do it even though someone tells you not to.”

John’s eyes widened by the observation. 

“That’s…something. Well, I’m not God.” 

“I know.”

“By the way,” she started. “Any chance you know a guy named Robert Rosenthal?” 

His face turned from surprise to recognition. “Oh shit, you’re Rosie’s girl from New York?” 

“What?” 

John let out a half-laugh. “Few days ago, Rosie and Pappy—that’s his co-pilot—were chasing each other around the barracks because of a picture. It was a picture of him and some girl…” 

She raised her eyebrow. 

“Or so I’m told,” he added quickly.

Men gossip. They’re just better at hiding it. 

“That’s what he’s been saying? I’m his girl?” she scoffed.

“No, he didn’t say that,” he immediately jumped in. “It’s just assumed since Rosie…he’s a pretty focused guy. He never really danced with anyone and when we saw the picture, we thought maybe you’re the reason why.” 

“So you really saw the picture?” 

He was about to say something when he stopped moving and his head jerked up. “Wait, I think I saw someone.” 

He moved them near to the sidelines, to the tables and chairs until they were only a few meters away from a certain table that was a little crowded with women chattering. Breaking away from each other, John held her wrist and led her to the table he was spying on. A couple of excuses to the women later, it revealed a uniformed man, nursing a glass of amber liquid, hunched and seemingly defeated.

“Rosie!” John called. “You came!”

Rosie? Is it him?

Bucky pulled a chair before the man and motioned for his new lady friend to sit on. Then he followed suit. The man before them raised his head and it was actually him! 

Elaine trailed her eyes on his features, now slightly worn, bulked, and a little heaviness on his shoulders. His curls are now a bit tighter (too much pomade, perhaps) and his eyes now have dark circles compared to the last time he saw him. 

Rosie’s gaze remained on Bucky and slowly, he turned to her. His mouth parted, and the two did not notice until Bucky placed a finger under his chin to shut it. 

“Rosie, you didn’t tell me your girl is coming!” John laughed. 

“I didn’t…” Rosie trailed off.

“I wanted to surprise him, actually,” Elaine cut off, finally speaking for Rosie who was still visibly confused from everything. He only nodded and then drank the remaining liquid in his glass.

“Really? Well, boy, you really were surprised, huh?” Bucky observed. “So how’d you meet?”

He waved at a waiter, and ordered a few drinks–six shots of vodka and three glasses of scotch.

“Robert and I met on the night before he enlisted for the army,” she shared. 

“Robert, huh,” Bucky observed. “In the base, he’s called Rosie.” 

“He looks a little unfriendly right now, so Robert it is,” she replied, smiling weakly.

“Robert is in a bit of a sour mood, all right?” Rosie shot back, his voice cutting against the loud music of the band.

His tone startled the two for a bit. Bucky knew this man to be usually collected, but tonight it didn’t seem like it. Elaine on the other hand, just looked at him.

Rosie felt his cheeks warm up, and swirled his glass while looking at the two. “Sorry.”

The trio fell in silence. Elaine stared at Rosie, wondering whether to apologize or just go. Rosie, embarrassed by his sudden raising of voice, avoided her gaze.

Bucky suddenly felt tension in the air that could be easily sliced by a hot knife. He planned on charming Elaine tonight, and if luck is on his side, maybe sleep with her. After all, he doesn’t encounter American women outside of the base often. 

However, from the scene in front of him, luck isn’t his. Instead of wallowing, he turned to the band and focused on the energetic music being played and people in the dancefloor—a complete contrast to the current situation.

Elaine started to think about the situation she is in. She’s here in 1943, surprising the guy she ghosted two years ago and now he’s somewhat agitated. What was she thinking? Who does she think she is, just popping down in miserable ol’ England, expecting the guy she ghosted will be happy to see her? Without writing to him earlier? 

The band is as lively as ever and they should be, it’s still early! She noticed both men were now intentionally avoiding her. Bucky was itching to dance with the way he was moving, while Rosie was out of sync with his finger tapping. Then, he took one of the five shots of clear liquid (probably vodka) and drank it.

Her gaze shifted between the two men, waiting for someone who would talk. Until she gave up and downed two shots. It’s not called liquid courage for nothing. 

 She cleared her throat loud enough to catch their attention. 

 Bucky saw it as his cue to leave. 

 “Alright," he started, standing up. "I'm gonna go. I think you two have things to talk about."

 Rosie and Elaine watched him make his way to the bar while greeting people around him. She glared at him, while he just looked at her, his eyes glassy. Getting uncomfortable, Elaine took Rosie’s glass and finished it. 

 She winced at the taste. 

 “That’s scotch, you know,” Rosie commented. 

 “I know that now,” she croaked, the scotch still burning on her throat. “Can you tell me why you’re late?” 

 He sighed. “I fell asleep when I got here. I didn’t realize until there was this man knocking on the door, asking for someone named Nancy.” 

 “And you’re not with anyone named Nancy?” 

 “Of course not!” he defended. “Now, were you dancing with Major Egan?” 

 “He’s your boss?” Elaine asked, unbelieving. 

 “Yes, is that hard to believe?” 

 She turned and saw Bucky talking happily with a blonde woman. “Honestly? Yes.” 

 “Were you dancing with Major Egan?” 

“Why not?” Elaine challenged. “You were late and he found me. He asked me to dance, and I didn’t want to look like a sad woman in the bar.” 

Rosie tsked. “I should've found you first.” 

“You found me now.”

“I’m really sorry, Elaine. I set it up and I’m the late one.” 

“To be fair, I didn’t write to you,” she reasoned. “But we’re here now. What are you going to do about it, Robert?”

He remembered how she used his legal name when she was convincing him to find a girl while he’s on the battlefield. Elaine smirked at him, daring him. 

 Rosie stood up and extended his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Byrne?

 She grinned at him and took his hand. “Yes, Mr. Rosenthal, you may.” 

The band started playing In the Mood, which made the crowd howl in excitement. They joined the other couples on the dance floor, jovial and excited.  Elaine watched Rosie dance with enthusiasm despite being a bit out of the beat. 

 She grinned at him and continued to dance.

 When In the Mood ended, a slow love song played. Rosie pulled her closer, almost cheek to cheek. Elaine inhaled deeply, noting for a second that this was real. 

 She’s there, and he was there. Close to each other. Holding each other. They danced in silence for a while, just relishing each other’s presence after a while of not seeing each other. 

 “I heard you’re a pilot now,” Elaine told him, breaking the silence. 

 “How’d you know about that?” 

"I asked around…I was waiting for quite some time, you know,” she teased, a smile obvious. Rosie groaned.

 “Well, yes, I’m a pilot now,” he confirmed. 

“Fancy man,” she teased. “You’re probably seducing young village maidens with your aviator glasses, promise of America…” 

“No, I’m not. I don’t even wear those glasses,” he stated. “If I was, then I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Charming me now, are you?” 

“Is it…working?” 

Elaine slapped his back and laughed.

“How about you? What have you been doing for the past few years?” Rosie asked. 

“I work as an assistant now in a publishing house,” she shared. “I tried being a nurse, but they wouldn’t have me. I couldn’t do a tourniquet. One time, I vomited at the same time as the patient. We shared a vomit bowl. It was very intimate.” 

Rosie blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding.” 

“Just the publishing part is true,” she confirmed.

He chuckled, perhaps in relief or humor. “Oh good, because I don’t think I would trust you as a nurse.” 

“Right call. Even if it’s a thinly-veiled insult,” she grinned.

Rosie moved his head so that he could see her face. It still looked the same, except with her now longer and lighter hair. The thin scar below her hair line is almost invisible under the lights. 

“I’m glad you made it, Elaine. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’ll be here. Writing to you is shooting for the moon and I didn’t really expect it to reach you,” he admitted. 

She nodded. “I didn’t expect I’ll hear from you, ever. But I had to come, Rosie.” 

“Why?” 

“I wanted to apologize for what happened. It was rude and I could’ve been more graceful. I’m sorry I left things that way.”

He smiled. “We’re even. Like you said, we found each other now. What are we going to do about it, Elaine Byrne?” 

She rested her head on his chest. “This. Just this.”

At a distance, Bucky watched the two slow dance to the music. He turned to the bartender who’s name was Rick, saying, “Called it.” 

“He stole your girl,” Rick commented. 

“Eh,” he replied, a cigarette dangling on his lips waiting to be lit. “She’s his before we met, Rick.” 

The bartender could only shake his head.

---

The two left the Palais nearing midnight. They wanted to say goodbye to Bucky but the bartender told them he exited minutes before. Elaine did not miss the meaningful look of the bartender. Fair enough, he did see me downing drinks with one guy then leave with another.  

“Where are you staying?” Rosie asked. 

“Brooke Green. How about you?” 

“Brooke Green, too.” 

Rosie offered his arm to her. She eyed him suspiciously but with humor. What’s next? Is he going to tell me he’d lasso the moon for me and make me swallow it until the beams flow out of me? 

“Elaine, you’re staring.” 

Her eyes widened. “Am I? Sorry. What are you doing?” 

“I figured since we’re staying at the same hotel, we should walk together,” he answered, lifting his offered arm. 

“That's so corny,” she commented.

He shrugged. “That’s me, I guess.” 

Elaine looped her arm around his and they started walking. She looked up to him, his expression a bit more chipper and relaxed.

After a few minutes, the two reached Brooke Green. 

Entering the elevator, Rosie asked which room she was staying in. 

“I’m in 215,” she answered. “You?” 

“217. Major Egan is in 216.” 

“Right.”

When they reached her door, he stopped her from turning the knob. "Elaine."

“What?”

“I should’ve asked this earlier, but can I see you tomorrow?” Rosie invited her, his voice a little shaky. 

“Yeah, sure…what time should we meet?”

“How about breakfast?” Rosie suggested.

“No can do. How about lunch?” she countered. She wanted to have some sight-seeing in present-day Hammersmith.

He thought of it for a moment. “All right, lunch it is. We can have lunch outside if you like.”

“All right, I’ll wait for you here by lunch. Just knock.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “Slip a note if you can’t make it or something.” 

“I don’t think you’ll like that.”

“Yeah, I won’t. But I trust you,” he stated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Elaine nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Rosie.”

“Good night, Elaine.”

He finally let go of the door knob and Elaine entered the room. She gave him one last look and closed the door. Leaning her head against her door, a smile formed in her face. 

All the messages and calls she may have received during her night out will have to wait. The future is always there, but for now, the past is a good place to stay in—for a few more hours, at least.

[angelfrogs]

Considering the latest chapter I am not sure if Yoshida’s dead but I think even if he was in control of himself Denji would not give a damn about Yoshida’s fate. In fact after everything I would not be surprised if he was cool with the idea of killing Yoshida personally, nor do I think he would be the wrong for wanting that!

There’s a lot this last chapter has left up in the air! Yoshida’s fate being one of the major unanswered questions, and genuinely I have no idea if he’s dead or not currently to me it’s about a 50/50 chance. I stand by on what I’ve said on him before, if he’s dead I believe he died full of regret and I think he may have died outright apologizing (though in this state that probably wouldn’t register to Denji at all). If he isn’t dead? He probably will be dead soon, if not at the hands of Denji then by someone else. I wouldn’t be surprised if the next chapter is Yoshida focused for this reason but given how much Fujimoto likes to jump around and slowly weave the scene together I’m not holding my breath. Either way, while I have always found Yoshida interesting and have been waiting for the other shoe to drop when it comes to this character for a LONG TIME, I think that his fate will be, and should be, a vehicle to discuss Denji’s current emotional and moral standing. I do not think Denji, or rather chainsaw man, would hesitate to kill Yoshida. (Though I don’t think he’d actively seek Yoshida out or try and track him down if he ran) There are two ways Denji could kill Yoshida right now and that depends on, like you mentioned, how in control Denji is of Chainsaw Man currently, my first instinct on seeing this version of csm (the version that can eat devils out of existence) is to say that this isn’t Denji at all but Pochita, like what was true before. However the circumstances in which this csm appears are quite different and it’s very possible that through all this emotional turmoil Denji found away to fully take hold of his devil side and keep his own consciousness. So if Denji has/does kill Yoshida as this version of chainsaw man it’s either done unfeelingly with pochita in the “drivers seat” sort of speak… OR Denji kills him personally in his own rage, as you mentioned. To an extent I agree with you that Denji would not give a fuck about Yoshida’s fate, mostly in that I think Denji would not care if Yoshida as a person is alive or dead. I do, however, think that if Chainsaw Man kills Yoshida, that will weigh on Denji. If Denji kills Yoshida mindlessly and without full control? Well then we are back to the conversation of the ways being chainsaw man, being half devil, dehumanizes Denji. If Denji does it consciously in rage? Then I think this would actually be more in line with the narratives of exploring Denji’s sexuality: he would have to face that even though he wanted it there would be no actual gratification in doing this because it’s a stand in for what he really needs. Revenge like this is unfulfilling either way, and while I absolutely agree with you that I don’t think he’d be in the wrong at all for wanting him dead I don’t think that’s the actual dilemma he’s going to have to face, I think it will be the horrifying realization that this carnage means nothing to him. But that’s just my two cents!

And a side tangent while I’m on the subject! I do think that there is a way where Yoshida is completely and irreversibly caught but he still survives: if Asa intervenes. Asa cares a lot about Denji, Yoshida is someone she knows personally, and she is someone with extremely strong feelings about morality (she doesn’t like the idea of killing people so intensely she keeps the WAR DEVIL from doing it) I think if she’d be able to she would try and talk Denji out of it. I think narratively if there’s going to be anything that snaps him out of this spree it’s going to be that but once again I’m not holding my breath on this lol! Especially bc now we have to deal with this no mouth situation….

[tala-bez-i]

At first sight Chapter Nineteen

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3750

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“Mom, I'm back!” You called out, taking off your shoes and placing them politely in their place before putting on your slippers and walking down the narrow hallway towards the small kitchen where you could smell the aroma of cooking food. 

“Welcome home, Y/n!” A female voice answered you cheerfully and with a smile on your face you went in the direction it came from. 

You entered the kitchen, through the window the sun was streaming in and the short curtain was blowing gently in the wind. Curry sauce was simmering on the small stove, which was the housewife's specialty and your father's favorite dish. 

You looked around, but the woman whose voice had just greeted you was nowhere to be seen. You looked out of the kitchen into the hall, thinking you had made a mistake and that in fact the woman was in the living room, but she didn't appear in the doorway. 

“Mom?” 

“I'm here, darling.” A woman's voice spoke from behind you and when you turned around in surprise, you saw a short blonde woman stirring sauce in a pot with a wooden spoon. “How was your day at school?” 

“Ah, I didn't see you, sorry.” You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand and shrugging. “There were no problems today. Just like I promised you.” 

“I'm proud of you, baby.” She smiled warmly at you. “Dinner will be ready soon. Please put the plates out of the cabinet. Your sisters and brother should be home in an hour... So is your father.” Her beautiful smile diminished slightly, and she returned to cooking. 

You nodded and followed her instructions. You looked at the woman's profile and realized that your older sister Mai looked almost like her. Tomoko, on the other hand, was more like father. 

“Why are you looking at me like that, silly?” The woman laughed, turning to face you with a wide smile. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of her black eye, and you quickly walked over to the woman, gently touching the bruise with your fingers. 

“Did he hit you again, mom?” You asked, feeling anger rising within you, but the blonde looked at you in surprise, looking at you with her big green eyes, and placed her hand on yours. 

“What are you talking about, Y/n?” She asked quietly, and that's when you realized that there wasn't the slightest sign of being beaten on her face. 

“But... Dad…” She squeezed your hand lightly and smiled again.  

“Pour some water for everyone, please.” 

You took your hand away without understanding anything at all. You've seen the black eye... You've seen it. You finished pouring water into the last glass on the tray and turned towards the table. 

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw your immediate family sitting at the table. Your mother and both of your sisters had their heads down and sat in silence. At the head of the table sat a portly, almost 50-year-old man who was your father. His icy gaze was trained on you, judging you as usual. You walked up to the table and placed the filled glasses in front of each household member. 

As you placed the glass in front of your older brother, he snorted disdainfully at you. You ignored it and sat down next to your sisters. There was silence for the next five minutes and no one started eating their food, waiting for the master of the house to order. 

"Eat." Your father said and everyone followed his orders, but you hesitated a bit. 

“Y/n.” The man growled and you looked at him, knowing full well what was about to happen. “Go to your room. You don't deserve a meal.” 

Always been like that. All it took was a second delay and you were punished. This time you felt like rebelling, but you felt your mother's gaze on you and... Suddenly you found yourself in your room, or rather a small room that used to be a larger storage room. 

You lay on your futon, trying to ignore the growling of your empty stomach, and did your schoolwork. You heard a gentle knock on the sliding door and when you opened it, you saw your kneeling mother, who with a sad smile handed you a small tray with a small amount of rice and the now cold curry. 

“Father has agreed for you to eat something, honey.” She said quietly and you gratefully took the tray from her. 

“Thank you…” Her small hands cupped your face, and she kissed your forehead. 

“Just a little longer, honey. Hold on a little longer.” She caressed your cheeks tenderly, and when you looked back at her gentle face, blood trickled from her nose. She stretched her wounded lips into a smile and looked into your eyes. “I'm glad it's over, Y/n. I always said Emiko wasn't for you.” 

You snapped your eyes open and sat up. Your body was covered in drops of cold sweat and at first you didn't know where you were. You gasped for air and rubbed your face with shaking hands. Slowly, very slowly, consciousness returned to you and you began to recognize your surroundings. You were in your room, in Bonten's hideout. What were you doing before you fell asleep? You were drinking. Yes, you definitely drank... 

You looked at the nightstand and saw only a turned off lamp. You looked at the other one and saw nothing on it except your phone. You frowned, wondering if what you remembered was actually true. 

Have you really been drinking? But what happened to the bottle? You looked under the bed and looked around the room again. There was no bottle anywhere, with or without alcohol. There was nothing. 

You thought again. Sanzu was with you, you drank together, you kissed, and you fell asleep with your clothes on... 

You touched your chest and realized it was naked. You threw away the sheets and the only clothes you had on were your underwear, but not the ones you were wearing before... These were fresh... 

“Am I fucked up or what?” You mumbled, rubbing your face with your hands. Nothing you remembered matched the current state of affairs. 

Maybe everything was just starting to get mixed up and confusing for you? You've had too many experiences lately. Yep, that's probably it. 

You got out of bed, went to the bathroom and as soon as you saw your reflection in the mirror you couldn't believe your eyes. There was a red spot visible on your neck. You touched it gently with your fingers, looking at your reflection more closely and you remembered the softness of Sanzu's lips. 

Your heart was beating fast and your whole body felt extremely light. There was a hickey on your neck. You smiled broadly and a laugh erupted from your chest, becoming more and more bitter with each passing second. You gripped the edges of the sink and lowered your head. You fell silent. You only remembered kisses, nothing else... 

*knock, knock, knock* 

Someone opened the bathroom door without waiting for your response and you heard a soft sigh. 

"You've waken up?" Sanzu's tone of voice was neutral and the man himself did not enter the bathroom. 

“Should I stay asleep?” You asked quietly, still looking at the sink. 

“Actually, after drinking almost the entire bottle of whiskey, I expected you to sleep for at least another hour, maybe two.” He replied after a moment and walked towards you quietly. “But then again, knowing how much alcohol you can drink and still walk straight, I was surprised you fell asleep so quickly.” 

“So, we did drink after all?” You lifted your head and looked at him through the mirror. He looked good as usual and you still wondered how this was even possible, knowing his lifestyle. “I wasn't sure if I had dreamed it. I didn't find the bottle.” 

“I emptied it and threw it away.” The man answered you and scanned your body with a critical look. “You're all shiny. Take a shower, Y/n.” 

“That's what I intended…” You grumbled as you straightened up and heard Sanzu open the cabinet and place a fresh towel in your hand. 

“All the bedding needs to be replaced.” He said it casually as he left the bathroom. “I'll let the girls know to take care of it.” 

"Thank you." You said to the now closed door, took off your underwear and slipped under the stream of cold water. 

Hundreds of thoughts were running through your head, and you couldn't stop on any of them for more than a second. One appeared almost all the time. Why did you get drunk so quickly? 

You stood in front of the mirror again and started drying yourself with a towel, finally tying it around your hips. You had small bags under your eyes, but your appearance wasn't much different from those days that followed drinking copious amounts of alcohol, so everything was normal. 

You rubbed your cheeks with your hand, feeling the slight stubble beneath your fingers, and pursed your lips. You hated shaving, but you hated having facial hair even more. You pulled out your razor and the bathroom door opened again, this time without knocking. 

You turned your head, and your eyes met the gaze of a pink-haired man who, seeing what you wanted to do, walked up to you and took the razor from your hand. 

"What are you doing?" You asked hesitantly, watching as Sanzu filled the sink with hot water, pulled out some shaving gel, and nodded for you to sit on the edge of the tub. You obeyed him, feeling the corners of your mouth turn up slightly. "I can handle it..." 

“I know, but I don't want you to cut yourself like last time.” He said, trying to keep his voice neutral. He grabbed a small face towel from the cabinet, dipped it in the sink and after thoroughly wringing it out of the water, he placed it on your face. “Hold this, please.” 

You obeyed him, your fingers gently brushing his hands. You sat there watching the man's every move, and when you saw him put the razor back in the drawer and take out a real razor, not this plastic contraption, you froze. Sanzu checked the sharpness of the razor and nodded with satisfaction. His blue eyes landed on yours again and he narrowed his. A wave of anxiety mixed with excitement shook your body and as the man leaned over you, you smelled his perfume. Your breathing quickened as his hand confidently moved the still warm towel away from your face. 

He put the right amount of shaving gel on his hands and applied it where needed. He rinsed his hands and took the razor in one hand, running the other into your hair, grabbing it gently and tilting your head back slightly. Your eyes met again, and a strange atmosphere hung in the air. Sanzu tilted his head slightly to the side and as he placed the razor blade against your throat, you swallowed hard, involuntarily beginning to examine your conscience... 

“Are you afraid of me, Y/n?” He asked quietly, a dangerous gleam appearing in his pupils. 

“Did I make you angry with something?” You answered him with a question. 

“Did you do something you shouldn't have done?” He leaned into your face and when your response didn't come immediately, he tilted your head further. 

“Is this about Kisaki and Hanma?” You blinked a few times, not trying to fight Haruchiyo. 

This time he didn't answer immediately, but his eyes looked to the side for a split second. 

“No. You did nothing wrong." He smiled warmly and loosened his grip on your hair. “Don't move, please. I do not want to hurt you." 

His hand began to move carefully with newfound confidence, guiding the razor close to your skin. The only sound that could be heard in the bathroom was the quiet scraping as the razor encountered the hairs of the beard. 

“You're staring.” Sanzu muttered quietly, focusing his eyes on what he was doing. 

"Sorry." You placed your hands gently on his hips. “It's stronger than me.” 

Haruchiyo chuckled softly and tilted your head to give him better access to one of your cheeks. You moved your hands higher and began to gently knead his sides with your fingers. 

“What are you doing, L/n?” He asked, amused, bending his body slightly as if he was trying to escape from under your fingers. 

"Nothing." You replied innocently, slowly moving your hands to his back. 

“I'm going to cut you, stop it.” He frowned and a slight blush appeared on his cheeks. He turned your head to the other side and started shaving your other cheek. 

Your hands ran slowly up and down the pink-haired man's back, feeling satisfied as his muscles tensed under your touch. 

"You are horrible." He blew out a sharp breath through his nose, grabbed your chin and started tilting your head in different directions, checking to see if he missed any remnants of hair, then put down the razor and grabbed a still damp towel, which he used to carefully wipe your face of the remnants of shaving gel. 

You closed your eyes for a moment and when you felt the coolness of the aftershave balm on your face, you looked into Sanzu's face again. His eyebrows were still furrowed and the color in his cheeks was already starting to fade. 

Oh, no... 

As soon as Haruchiyo removed his hands from your face, you pulled him closer to you and buried your face into his hard, muscled stomach. 

“Y/n! What are you doing?" Sanzu asked, his fingers tightening on your shoulders. "Hey, stop it!" 

"Nope." You mumbled, enveloping him in your embrace. “Beat me, kill me, but I won't let go.” 

“Fuck.” The other whispered irritably, sighing heavily, and you didn't have to wait too long as his fingers began to run through your hair in a loving manner. “You are a nuisance. You and your tenderness.” 

“Yesterday you were the tender one.” You murmured, closing your eyes, relaxing into the touch of his hand. 

"It was yesterday. Today is today.” He replied grumpily. “The rest is not true at all.” 

“I have proof that something happened after all.” 

“What kind?” 

You moved your head so that your chin was resting on his stomach, and you looked up at his face. “On my neck. You left a hickey. Don't pretend you didn't see." 

Sanzu looked at you with wide eyes, his cheeks turning red again. You smiled gently, running your hands over his back again. 

“A pain in the ass.” The other one grumbled and you laughed loudly. 

"Come here." You grunted softly, grabbing his shirt and forcing him to bend over. You grabbed his face and kissed his now hot cheek. "Thank you." 

“Fuck you.” He rubbed his cheek against yours and brushed his lips against the arch of your brow. 

"Only with you." You whispered, feeling the man's face get even hotter. 

“Suck.” He growled softly, tightening his fingers in your hair. 

“Only if you let me.” You slid your hands down to his buttocks and looked deep into his eyes. 

Haruchiyo's handsome face showed many emotions, but there was something on it that didn't appear often - embarrassment. 

He opened his pink lips a few times as if to say something, but suddenly there was a loud knock on the door from outside the bathroom and soon you both heard the voice of none other than Ran Haitani calling your and Sanzu’s name. 

“The timing is as perfect as usual.” You sighed, letting Sanzu move a safe distance away from you. His face was still red. 

"What the hell now..." He growled and quickly left the bathroom. 

You put on your robe and walked out of the bathroom, tying the belt around your waist. Rindou sat down on the small sofa while Sanzu and Ran had some conversation by the window. You calmly walked to your closet and started choosing a shirt. 

“Not much has changed here since my last visit.” Rindou asked you, looking lazily around the room. 

“It's true, I haven't had time to change anything lately.” You replied lightly and pointed to the small cabinet standing between the sofa and the wall. “We have some catching up to do.” 

“Oh?” The man opened said cabinet and a small smirk appeared on his face and a mischievous glint in his purple eyes. “Nice collection. Maybe after all this crap is over, we can go back to overtime?” 

“That's what I thought too.” 

"Absolutely not." Sanzu said louder, turning towards you. “Put it out of your mind, Y/n.” 

“Come on, Sanzu. Don't take away the pleasure in his life.” Ran joked, opening the window and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, offering it to the pink-haired man. 

“Alcohol is not his only pleasure.” The man grumbled as he took one cigarette and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate, but Sanzu didn't add anything else. 

“Judging by the state of the bed and the hickeys on his neck, you might be right.” Ran joked, taking a drag from his cigarette, and everyone's eyes briefly fell on the mess in the sheets. 

You felt your face start to turn red, but you dismissed the man's comment with a laugh and a wave of your hand. After all, nothing happened. 

“I deserved it.” 

The older Haitani brother flashed you a cheeky smile, but Sanzu gave you a warning look. You shrugged and went back to rummaging through your clothes closet. You will have to ask one of your trusted girls to do your laundry. 

“Have you seen the videos?” You said casually and Rindou let out a sigh, so you looked in his direction. 

“Yeah, unfortunately yes.” He pulled out one bottle of alcohol from your supplies, looked at it with a critical eye and unscrewed it to smell the drink. “Sanzu is fucked up and so is Hanma. Even you have episodes, but they…” He poured himself a whole glass and set the bottle on the coffee table. “Emiko gave you signs earlier that there was something wrong with her?” 

“No. At least I didn't notice anything like that. She always insisted that I leave the gang because she didn't want me to get into more shit and end up in jail.” 

“Maybe she should have taken care of herself? The things she did with our girls don't just start like that. This goes on for years.” Ran added, watching the cigarette smoke curl in the air. “Our sweet fuckers could learn from her.” 

“Fuck you.” Haruchiyo growled, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Nobody needs to teach me new tricks.” 

You stood in silence for a moment, wondering if you should ask about the boy, but... 

“Forget it, Y/n. We have express orders not to discuss this topic with you.” Ran said as if reading your mind. 

"What is it about?" Sanzu became interested. 

“I guess this is the first time you don't know anything, huh?” Ran was surprised. 

“I don't know about what?” The pink-haired man grew impatient, and out of the corner of your eye you saw him look from Ran to you. 

“Y/n wanted to kill Emiko yesterday.” Rindou explained as he poured himself another glass of alcohol. 

"What?" 

“I didn't mean to kill her.” You grumbled as you untied your robe to get dressed. “Okay, maybe I had those thoughts, but I was more interested in asking her a few questions.” 

“Fucking nonsense.” Rindou took a huge sip of the drink and looked at the bottle again. 

"Seriously. I admit that I reacted a little too intensely, but..." 

“You don't know the kid.” Ran said, leaning out the window to get rid of his cigarette butt. 

“That has nothing to do with it. He's mine." 

“Paper will accept everything.” 

“Did you saw the photo the little one is like skin removed from Y/n.” Sanzu was outraged. "What happened?" 

“Y/n saw a video he should never have seen.” Ran explained, closing the window. 

“Nobody expected this.” 

“I could have guessed when their neighbor talked about child abuse.” You said as you buttoned your last shirt. “I am banned from approaching Emiko.” 

“Even if you wanted to break his ban, and knowing you and how Sanzu trained you, you would... Then you wouldn't be able to get close to her. First thing in the morning, Mikey had the woman moved to another safe house outside the city.” Rindou explained, giving you a dispassionate look. 

“I don't know anything about it, when did Mikey give that order?” Sanzu became concerned as he moved closer to the younger Haitani. 

“Not long after you left, Kisaki visited him and told him everything.” Ran explained as he sat down next to his brother. He took the open bottle in his hand and looked at the label with faint interest. “Your dog messed up the plans a bit.” 

You mentally cursed as you felt Haruchiyo's furious gaze on you and lowered your gaze. You heard the man take a pill bottle out of his pants pocket and open it. When you looked at him, you saw him swallow two pills and snatch the bottle from Ran's hands before drinking the remaining contents. 

He let out a loud string of curses, slammed the door to your room open, and left, leaving you feeling strangely uneasy. 

“Normally I'd say follow him, but maybe it's best if you don't do that right now.” Ran said quietly as he stood up from the sofa and patted his little brother on the shoulder. “Come on Rindou, we have to go to our club and check the accounts.” 

The man in question exhaled through his nose, drank the alcohol and followed Ran. “Good luck, Y/n. See you tonight.” He left and you were left in the room completely alone. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ In the morning, the body of an unidentified woman was found in a quiet residential estate in the basement of one of the single-family houses. The police report that they have initiated an investigation into an alleged murder and suspicion of other activities prohibited by law. The property owners were not at the scene and are currently considered fugitives. More information about the case in the evening news edition. Stay with us.

<PREVIOUS/NEXT>

[just-geck007]

Final Thoughts on Children of Dune & First Impressions of God Emporer of Dune

Children of Dune

Wowie-zawa...

This book fucked me in the ass, elephant cock, no lube. As I have mentioned to a few IRLs, I would rather drag my bare pussy over hot coals than read it again. To paint a picture of how difficult it was to stay engaged with this book: I read 6 books in January. I read 1/2 of a book from the start of February to early March, and that 1/2 book was... you guessed it... Children of Dune.

The book picks up nearly 8 years (iirc) after the end of Dune Messiah following Ghanima & Leto ii. Which in itself is not an issue. Although both characters are supposedly a foil for Alia, whom Frank does not characterize very well.

That is if you count being "an abomination" for the entirety of the book as ~characterization~. That, and the fact she is possessed, by Baron Harkonnen. Which I feel was Franky's last stab at making the Baron a key character, though he kinda-sorta lost the plot on this one near the end of the book.

... I mean, that is unless he brings the Baron back to possess another character...

Anywayssss...

The book itself is strangely paced. At times it jumps between different character's POVs that are happening congruently, at times it skips multiple days and weeks between chapters. The end of the book also feels relatively rushed, as if Frank has to try and fit multiple key parts into the last 10 pages. With that, it is important to note that the last 50 pages of the novel were hands down my favorite part of the book. It is hard to tell if this was because the book was almost over or because the plot actually came together.

I also think the style in this book is quite consistent with the previous 2 books (this is important as there is an abrupt style change in God Emperor). This style is very clunky and dense almost as if *it* expects you to decipher the riddles in which it is speaking. Children of Dune read in the same manner, making it a very drawn-out read, parts of it requiring one's utmost attention lest you miss a vital clue that could only be divulged by reading between the lines of Frank's shroom-filled delusions.

All in all, I found this book to be my least favorite of the Dune books, with Messiah as a close second.

This is the perfect segue to my opening thoughts on God Emperor of Dune:

As I am only about 50 pages into the book this is very much preemptive, though I already find myself enjoying this book much more than the last 2. I think this has to do with the immediate change in writing style. Frank must have taken a brick to the head to change his style this much, but after drowning in a sea of riddles for the last ~2,000 pages I find this to be a much-welcomed breath of fresh air.

God Emperor opens up about 3,000 years following the end of Children of Dune, from what appears to be the perspective of a scholar. This chapter is also unique as it does not open with a quotation, that which has been present at the start of each chapter in the previous 3 books, instead, it opens with a single sentence announcing where the piece of text originates from. In this case, it is an "Excerpt from [a] speech," that is announcing a discovery of a *presumably* important artifact.

The next chapter picks up again with the chapter-opening quotations, (Yes... That is what we will call them.) and jumps immediately into an action scene, which I found unusual as well as Franky typically writes in a more ballad-esque style. Thus far this book is very energetic & snappy and I am very excited to finish it and move on to Heretics, given that Frank continues with his newfound style!

Will update with more DUNE thoughts in the next few weeks, life is busy right now.

geck out beetches!