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hunnylagoon · 6 months

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The Girl That Time Forgot

Ellie Williams x Reader

Find me in one thousand years, I will always be waiting here.

Premise: Ellie is the only time traveller who uses her uncommon gift to rewind time and constantly pester you-the only immortal who made a deal with death in 412 BC and is cursed to walk the earth for all eternity. Forever was promised but you never knew the price.

Warnings: death / murder / mentions of suicide / self-harm / toxic relationship /sickness / violence / angst / war / mentions of drugs / lovers?friends(ish)?enemies? it’s complicated / mild gore / things get nuts

ONE-SHOT | WC 18k (so you know what you’re getting into)

AID PALESTINE!

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

Come back in one hundred years, you'll always find me here.

Rain splashes against the skin of your face in lands of ancient Greece, where the winds themselves whispered stories of gods and heroes, neither of which you were. You were nothing more than a frightened woman running away from an unforgiving husband in the dead of night where your quickened heartbeat falls in rhythm to the ocean which is almost as angry as the storm that roars above.

Carefully you dodge the jagged rocks sticking out from the sand, you had memorized each and every one after days of burning your skin on the shores. Water surged against the rocks near your feet, white froth sizzling in the waves retreating like it was trying to drag you in and take you for its own.

Your heavy breathing was devoured by the heavy rain and cracks of lighting, the sounds of thunder so deep it was like Zeus himself was stomping in the clouds. Despite the night being dark you trusted the moonlight that glimmered off of the ocean to guide you. You have nothing more than the soaking wet clothes on your back, jewelry to sell, and the drachmas you had stolen from your husband tucked away safely in a wool tagari purse.

Someone grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks "Hey!" They say, though you can't quite make out the figure in the dark you know it's a woman from the voice alone. "You need to go home." Fear pushes adrenaline to course through your veins at the sound of an unheard tongue babbling in your ears.

Your eyebrows furrow, clutching the bag even harder in your free hand. "Φύγε από μένα!" You scream, trying to force your voice to be louder than the malicious storm that brews over your head. You try to pull your hand away but the woman stands firm hardly even moving.

"Fuck," She mutters, you don't understand a word. In this moment you feel like a rabbit preparing to get devoured by a wolf, whoever this woman was you were shaken to your core like you had just uncovered a dead body. "I forgot that you can't speak English yet."

You struggle under the grip of the woman, using the hand which was holding tightly onto the tagari and begin to hit the woman before you to pry her off your wrist "Δεν θα πάω πίσω, τον μισώ μέχρι θανάτου!" You shout voice loud as thunder.

"Ow!" She said wrinkling her nose and trying to apprehend the hand that was hitting her "Can you stop?" She asks, even though you can't understand her it's worth a shot in her mind.

This does nothing to stop your protest, you only hit her harder hammering your purse against her head until she finally lets go of your wrist to block your swinging. Lighting cracks and just for a moment you catch a glimpse of her. Short brown hair that falls at her shoulders, and freckles across her face, something you had never seen before. What frightened you wasn't the sharpness of her green eyes but her clothes, an alien concept to you. She didn't wear a tunic but a scratchy blue fabric tight on her legs and what to you resembled a baggy grey burlap sack with a piece of cloth hanging off the back. In recent years it has come to be known as jeans and a hoodie.

"Δαίμονα, μάγισσα, φύγε!" You smack her once more for good measure and turn quickly on your sandal-covered heel to get away from her. You were as wild and untamed as the ocean itself, with eyes that sparkled with a craving for more than honey dripping down your tongue and salt smeared across your lips.

"Remember I tried to help you this time!" She shouts, her voice is so far off in the distance that you barely heard it through the storm. Even if her words were clear it made no difference, you didn't speak her tongue, and any warning fell unheard upon your ears "Have fun being twenty forever!"

You ran even faster than you had before, you didn't even turn around to see if the woman was still on your tail.

The salty spray stung your cheeks as you ran, your breath ragged and steps unsteady. The wind howled in protest, whipping at the wet hair that stuck to your face and neck, tearing at your white peplos, turned translucent on your body by the water. But you paid no heed to the fury of the elements, for you were driven by a desperate need to escape.

As you reached the edge of a rocky outcrop, your leather sandal caught on a slick stone, sending you tumbling to the ground. With a sickening thud, your head struck against the unforgiving rock, and the world around you spun into darkness.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until it swallowed you whole and sucked you in deeper. Ropes of hair twist before your dull eyes, unmoving into the deep.

You sink further in and open your eyes though you are still deceased, your body still falling cold. Selene stands before you in the form of midnight. Her body was ebony and deep blue, half woman, half moon. Long black hair like ink tipped with moonlight spills down her breasts and her hips, she watches you with her pale eyes imploring.

The goddess before you turns to lead the way, enticing you to follow. Each step sends knives through your limbs. Your mouth tastes like blood and your lungs burn red hot though every time you try to breathe you choke and sputter of nothing, still, you follow Selene into the nothingness ahead.

Finally, she turns, one finger pressed to her lips, signalling you to be quiet. Beside her, a pale soldier appears in fine silver armour chiselled against his muscular body. The areas that the armour does not cover, his arms and an area of his legs between the middle of his thighs to just below his knees, tattered bandages hang around his limbs, They sway in the nothingness and shed by themselves. You see open wounds deep and red, beginning to bleed but his pasty skin sews itself up, leaving no scar behind, nothing but smooth flesh. Wings larger than the man himself sprout from his back. Thanatos.

Thanatos bows his head, hiding his deep sunken eyes beneath a Corinthian helmet. You should be afraid that you face the god of death but you aren't. This is a better fate than being hauled back to your husband.

He takes his helmet off, long dark hair falls onto his shoulders and he regards you. Thanatos is wordless as he stares at you, taking in every of your face, every curve of your body. He doesn't speak but you understand him well, too much beauty to go to waste.

Selene has left you to take her place back in the night sky, she watches you were she hangs on a beam of moonlight. In one hand Thanatos holds a silver knife. Your voice betrays you, for once your loud screeching voice is lost.

He holds out his hand, pitch black at the fingertips. You can tell he is trying to strike a deal as if he had put his words into your mind without ever even moving his lips.

You look at his hand and then at his face, death was less frightening than you had imagined, handsome for a god who took so many lives. He lets his offer sit and settle within you, he doesn't try to sweeten the deal, he offers you another chance and that is that.

The second you shake Death's hand, he pulls away from your grip and takes the silver dagger to your heart. With ease, he slices back layers of flesh in one swoop leaving your bones exposed before him. Using what seemed to be little effort for the god of death, he breaks your ribs and pulls out your heart.

You watch it beat in his hand, the blood drifting out of it like ribbons that hook around your limbs, you know you have made a mistake. For the first time, Thanatos smiles. Oh, how the wolf wore the sheep as a wicked disguise. he squeezes the heart and at the crush of his hand, you feel ice shoot through your veins.

Your eyes open, properly open. You were alone. You wake up in nothing more than a metre of water and immediately cry out in pure terror at the horrifying images that your mind has conjured up. You run through the salty ocean and back to the shore.

The storm hadn't subsided which helped to camouflage your sobs as you frantically felt around your body with shaking hands to be sure that the god of death hadn't ripped out your heart. Surely enough, your rib cage was intact. You fall onto your hands and knees heaving up all of the ocean water you had swallowed.

The purse that held your resources for escaping had either been devoured by the ocean or stolen off your body. Your wirey hands touch the back of your hand, you expect to shudder under the pain of the open wound that knocked you unconscious. Instead of pain shooting from a gash in your head, you are perfectly intact.

You look down at your hands, no trace of blood.

Maybe it was time to start believing in myths because you were in one.

Rome - July- 116 AD

Don't they know it's the end of the world?

At the center of the world, you had been buried alive for three years after switching places with a Vestal Virgin who looked remarkably identical to you in exchange you gained a large sum for your alleged death. When you were buried you hadn't thought much about how you would get out, you just knew that you wouldn't suffocate or starve.

After the second year passed you were beginning to think that offering to get enclosed in a stone tomb with bread, water, oil, a candle, and a bed wasn't a great way to live your abnormally long life. The air grew stale, and the silence of the tomb echoed with the whispers of the dead that surrounded you on all four walls.

Before sleeping every single night, you prayed to the gods to take your life but they never listened. What you once thought to be a blessing had turned out to be a curse, no blessing would make you crave death the same way you craved sunlight and cream. You had given away the gift of aging for a sweet pleasure that quickly became bitter on your tongue.

The first few moons after you had slipped into unconsciousness you truly believed it at all been some strange hallucination caused by smacking your dead until you took a steep tumble and fell on your husband's hunting knife only to pull it out of your body and watch the skin over your stomach fix itself up, leaving no evidence behind that it had ever happened aside from the blood on the knife.

All you know to do is survive.

It's not like you hadn't tried to find a way out of it, some loophole that would shatter the deal and set you free. You had 527 years to try and make some sense of it, but you had given up and resorted to trying to find a way to end your life. Every time you did that, Ellie always showed up to help but you were back together.

You didn't understand the words that came from her mouth, all you knew was that her name was Ellie and she was cursed like you. What was she cursed with? You weren't sure but she seemed a little less miserable with you.

Ellie would come into your life now and then, usually an unwelcome surprise, she always knew where to find you. The only consistent face that you've seen for 527 years. She seemed to know more about you than you knew about her.

Overhead of the tomb, you see a crack of light slip through one of the stones that sealed you in. A tremor shook the earth, and the ancient stones of the tomb began to crumble. Light spilled into the darkness as the walls collapsed around you.

Surely enough Ellie's head looked down at you. She smiles and extends a hand to help you out "Sorry I took so long, I had to time it right with the earthquake, you picked poor timing to get buried alive." She hauled you up, and you stepped over the rubble with bare feet, careless of whether you gut them on the freshly shattered stone or not, you knew that they would heal over regardless.

Despite still not understanding her tongue you were for a change, glad to see her. As you suspected, your feet had been sliced up, leading a little trickle of blood in your wake. The moment you reached the surface, you collapsed to the ground. The city was crumbling around you but they were the ones who locked you away in the first place. You ignored Ellie's unknown words and felt the lush grass for the first time in three years, the heat of the sun resting on your skin.

Beside you, Ellie wrinkles her nose. "You've definitely smelled better," This is one of the times when she dresses appropriately for the era, a toga slung around her toned figure. "Oh, I thought you might be hungry so I brought this, I know you don't have to eat but I figured it would be nice," She unfolded a piece of cloth beside her revealing a small stack of round pastries that had little brown dark spots in it, nothing you had seen before.

You furrow your eyebrows, partly in confusion, partly because your eyes were still adjusting to the light after being enclosed in darkness for three years. "Τι κοιτάζω;"

"They aren't bad I promise," She says, she had made an effort to learn Greek for you but it proved too difficult, all she knew was the odd word. "They're cookies and don't tell anyone because I'm pretty sure they don't get invented for six hundred years."

Ellie speaks freely like you comprehend every word that she says. You make a face that almost resembles a snarl as you eye her and the cookies suspiciously.

"In a few more centuries we're cool with each other," She eats one of the cookies, slowly taking a bite to show you that they were edible. The cookies are a little too good however and she eats the entire thing in mere seconds, speaking through a mouth full of crumbs "Maybe more than a few centuries," She corrects herself "It's like a thousand years and then some but you come around."

She looks once more at the confusion on your face and gives up on trying to verbally communicate, instead she just holds the cloth holding the chocolate chip cookies towards you and looking into her eyes as sharp as a wolf, you hesitantly take one.

Norwich, England- November- 1327

I can't take my eyes of you.

In the dimly lit streets of the town, where the stench of death hung heavy in the air and fear gripped the hearts of its inhabitants. People no longer walked freely around town, they were either sick and on the trek to become puss-filled corpses or they locked themselves away and observed the demise of friends and foes from their windows.

You had seen civilizations rise and fall and witnessed the ebb and flow of history itself, but nothing could have prepared you for the horror that awaited you in the plague-ridden streets of the town. As the death toll rose with each passing day, you donned the garb of a plague doctor, your face concealed behind a grotesque mask adorned with beak-like protrusions filled with aromatic herbs that helped to cover the sickly sweet smell of rotten corpses.

Armed with little more than your knowledge of ancient remedies and a desperate desire to ease the suffering of the afflicted, you ventured into the heart of the epidemic, where the sick lay writhing in agony and the cries of the dying echoed through the night like they were eating themselves alive.

"Jeez, this isn't good," Ellie appears beside you, out of thin air like she tended to do. Now she was wearing a green dress, long bell sleeves and a golden trim around the dress, she wore a white vale pushing her hair back. Though she was dressed for the time period she looked out of place in the garb of a noblewoman, surrounded by the sick and dying peasants. "I can't stick around too long because an official vaccine for the bubonic plague isn't developed until 2072."

"How many people will die from this?" You ask, voice somewhat muffled from the leather mask, stuffed with herbs.

"About fifty," She trails off "Million."

You were not a god's chosen but a god's cursed. You had already suspected her to say something along those lines. Your voice failed as you watched the searchers who had been employed by the city, dragging dead bodies off into a pit to be buried in a mass grave.

"Look on the bright side-

"There is no bright side," You turn to walk away from her, shoving Ellie into the back of your mind.

With each patient you tended to, you felt the weight of your immortality pressing down upon her—a burden too heavy to carry, yet one you could not escape. You watched as the plague consumed the bodies and souls of those around you, leaving nothing but death and apathy in its wake, a dream that this would be over soon.

Immortality was a mockery, you thought yourself to be a spectacle to the gods above, nothing more than cruel entertainment. As much as you run, you get nowhere, you always end up in the same place, watching those you developed bonds and memories with die.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you fought tirelessly against the tide of death, your resolve unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds. But with each passing day, her heart grew heavier, burdened by the weight of countless lives lost and the knowledge that she alone would bear witness to their suffering for eternity.

A boy on his porch cries for his mom and dad who will never be coming home, his sobs echo through the narrow streets like a wolf's howl.

As the moon cast its ghostly glow upon the desolate streets, you stood amidst a sea of bodies, your gloved hands stained with the blood of the fallen. The plague had taken its toll, claiming the lives of all those you had sworn to protect, leaving you alone in a world consumed by darkness.

Henry, a stonemason who had no family aside from his little brother now cries over his body. Sam, the young boy had been hit hard with the disease, the sores covered almost every inch of his body and turned black upon his ebony skin. You had watched every stage of his sickness, there was no cure other than comfort, the only thing you couldn't offer to Henry at that moment.

You could turn the brothers into poetry but you couldn't offer up the immortality that you carried like a cross you had to bear.

He held Sam's corpse in his arms, hugging him close and sobbing. Henry was freshly infected there was no way he would make it out alive though you weren't sure that he even wanted to after watching his baby brother's hands turn pitch black and seize up.

How strange that you, someone who was not deserving of eternal life, was the one burdened with it. People are dying and you can't get a grip.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, you cast aside her mask, the symbol of your futile efforts to defy the inevitable. For in that moment, you realized that no amount of healing could undo the damage wrought by the plague, and no amount of compassion could ease the pain of those who had been lost.

You turned your back on the town that had become your prison, the echoes of its suffering fading into the night. For though you were immortal, you were not invincible—bound by the chains of your own existence, condemned to wander the earth as a silent witness to the fleeting moments of life and the relentless march of death.

Salem, America- April- 1692

Immortal she, return to me.

The paranoid colonial Massachusetts was not the place for a woman who never ages. You grew careless of covering up your secret and lived on the outskirts of Salem, seen by few but that didn't aid the treacherous rumours whispered about you.

You had been there when they settled in 1626 and hadn't aged a day from the time you settled. This had spread into rumours of you dancing with the devil, practicing witchcraft, and bewitching townspeople.

Though many denied your existence, all fingers pointed towards you when two young cousins began acting erratically and were given the diagnosis of being under an evil hand.

The courtroom was a hallowed chamber of unjust judgment, where the accused stood trial before the watchful eyes of the magistrate and the hushed voices of the gathered crowd. You stood, with your hands bound and your head held high, faced your accusers with a steely resolve, eyes burning with a fire that refused to be extinguished.

As the trial unfolded, it became clear that justice was but a mere facade—a thin veil masking the insidious machinations of those who sought to rid the town of its perceived evils. Witnesses were coerced, evidence fabricated, and lies spun like silk until the truth became little more than a distant memory lost to paranoia and skepticism. In the crowd, mixed in with the townspeople, you saw Ellie.

Her steady gaze on you was unmoving and ever-focused, a small smile played on her lips while she watched you face the accusations, anger simmering deep inside you like a curse.

Despite protestations of innocence, you were found guilty of witchcraft—a verdict as unjust as it was inevitable. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you were led to the gallows, where the noose awaited you like a taunt.

You had still been bound by your hands in front of your grime-covered dress from being imprisoned in a dark cellar for a month which felt like mere hours in your lifespan.

A man named David, one of the wealthiest residents of Salem and the first to seek warrants against the accused innocent aided you into stepping onto the back of a cart. The crowd surrounding you cheered while a church member slipped the noose tied to a tree around your neck.

"Hang the witch!" Ellie shouts and you lock eyes with her, feeling nothing more than bitterness and resentment. She still seems unfazed and somewhat amused like she's seen this a thousand times, she likely has. You know she had already watched you 'die' over and over again, Ellie was desensitized to it.

"Hang her!" Another man yells, following Ellie's act in tow. They scream all around you, jeering for your death which would never come. David and the churchman step off the wagon and the crowd gets even louder, anticipating a broken neck and lifeless eyes. David gave a command and the horses pulling the wagon were off, leaving your feet to flail helplessly over nothing.

Even as the rope tightened around your neck and the crowd jeered and spat their curses. Though you couldn't die the pain of the rope restricting your breathing still ran you ragged. For just a brief moment you pretend to die, and those around you cheer. There is so little hesitation in their voices, they were glad to see you dead.

You begin to thrash around, kicking your feet. When the townspeople realized you weren't deceased their cheers of victory fell into silence as you coughed and sputtered on the build-up of saliva and blood choking you. An eery silence falls upon the land while they watch in horror, waiting for you to die. Ellie bites back a smile from where she watches you. You bring your hands, bound together by the wrist to reach up and grab the rope that you hung by. Gathering all the force you can you yank it harshly, over and over again until it finally snaps and you fall to the ground.

David's face falls completely. You had known him to not truly believe in witchcraft but the murder of innocents and threatening women. The look in his eyes when he saw you stumble to your feet. "Witch!"

"Ay, I am the witch!" You shout, the townfolk backing away. You slip your hand where the rope strangled your bent neck, the moment the noose comes loose you pull it off over your head, holding it in one hand. In only seconds the broken bones in your neck heal and you bring your head up, chain raised tall, the wound where the rope dug into your neck disappearing "I am older than your oldest god, I am more ancient than the winds, and more sacred than your cross." You say, only to frighten them.

"Kill her!" David shouts to which no one answers, they are either running or frozen in terror, saving themselves before anyone else.

David isn't fast enough to run, you grab him by his hair and drag his struggling body back beneath the tree where he had hung you. In the blue hour of the day, you hooked the severed noose around his neck and began to walk, dragging his trashing body back to your home on the outskirts of the town. David's body eventually fell limp, still, you dragged it over the rocks and lumps of cobblestone. You had succeeded in making him as afraid of you as you were of him.

You were the first woman who hung in the trials, far from the last. "Headed west now?" Ellie asks, walking beside you, utterly unfazed by what she just witnessed.

Boston, America- March- 1770

In the darkness I will meet my creators, they will all agree that I'm a suffocator.

In the cobblestone streets of colonial Boston, where the talks of revolution were murmured, propaganda poured. There you resided, someone once worshipped as a god whose true name had long been forgotten by history.

But amidst the fervour of the American colonies on the brink of rebellion, you found yourself drawn to the heart of the struggle after the church bells had been rung sending confused people onto the streets covered with snow and out of their homes.

It was on the night of March 5, 1770, that tragedy struck with a swift and merciless hand where a pull of a trigger would be written into history textbooks—the night of the Boston Massacre. As tensions between the colonists and the British soldiers reached a boiling point, you stood amidst the thronging crowd.

The air crackled with tension as the soldiers, emboldened by their orders to maintain order at all costs, faced off against the angry mob, assaulting them with snowballs, chunks of ice and oyster shells for hours on end. With shouts and hollers ringing through the night, protesting the raise of tax brought by King George.

Before the rage-filled crowd stand nine English soldiers holding their ground while the mob grows more and more impatient. This had started when a wig maker apprentice got in a spat with a private stationed outside of the customs house who in turn clobbered the boy with his musket.

The eight soldiers and the captain endure the jeers of the crowd led by Crispus Attucks. The Captain, Preston, refused to fire upon the crowd though as he commanded them from the front, in the line of fire.

You push your way up through the crowd, interweaving through hundreds of people. You watch the nine men stand tall against the sea of angry colonials. One of the men is hit hard in the head with a jagged rock, he falls back to the ground his musket clattering neck to him, just then, behind them in the darkness shouts a voice "Fire!"

With little to no hesitation, the man who fell over quickly scuttles to his feet, firing into the darkness of the evening. Then, in an instant that seemed to stretch into eternity, the first shot rang out—a deafening explosion that shattered the silence of the night and sent shockwaves rippling through the crowd. The other men follow, firing a volley one at a time. Beside you, you hear the thuds of heavy bodies hitting the ground, you don't have much time to process it before a bullet lands right in your head, the bullet finds its mark, striking you down with a force that seems to rend your immortal body asunder.

For a moment, time stood still—the world around you spinning in a dizzying blur of pain and confusion. "Hault!" Preston the captain orders, the soldiers cease fire at his command, confused as they believed him to be the one who ordered fire.

You used the rising surge of anger and fear emanating from the people around you to disappear into the crowd. Men grew even more angry at this, some dispersed but many stayed put. There were only a few women in a horde of hundred, it was difficult to go unnoticed with a bleeding gash on your head, you looked more monster than human, skin on your face replaced by a mass of flesh and blood. You brought your hands up to rest on the top of your head, arms out in front of you to cover what was once your face so your already scared neighbours wouldn't see a breathing corpse.

You stumbled around on your feet, pushing yourself through the mass of people, all moving in your opposite direction, making it harder for you to keep your head down. "Is something wrong?" A woman asks, you disregard her, shoving her away from you to keep moving. Your head rang with a high-pitched whistling, echoing through your brain, and you could hardly see straight with the one eye you now had, eyesight fuzzy. Each person ahead of you blurred into the next, blood gushing down your face, so much that it trickled into your eye and tinted your vision.

The wound wasn't clean by any means, not a neat through and through. The gunshot had got you right up the cheek and into your forehead, half of your face entirely blown off. The close impact of the shot caused your right eye to burst, you were scrambling away with no face and one eye.

Already you could feel your body working to put itself back together, still blood flowed down from the horror that was your face, down your neck to soak into your stay and your once grey skirts. You leave a trail of blood in your wake, dripping into the snow that is sure to be found my morning.

At last, you finally pass the crowd, though you don't stop. You stumble into the dark streets, running until you tumble on cobblestones slick with snow and slush, eyesight heavily impaired. "You've seen prettier deaths," Ellie sucks a breath through her teeth, she isn't in the dress that a woman would wear in that decade, instead, she's clad in a red coat, the uniform of a British soldier, her hair tied up and tucked beneath a black cap that all of the soldiers adorned.

She stretches her hand out to help, you take it. Instead of being gracious that she came around to help you off the ground, you take a swing at her face, and when your face makes contact with her cheek you hear a crack. Ellie takes a step back, shocked as you haven't hit her since the night you first met, 2181 years prior to that moment. "Why would you scream fire?" You cry. The second you heard the voice, you knew it was Ellie though you hadn't had time to process it before your face was blown off. "Those men are dead, Ellie, they will never go home to their families or take another breath!"

"They die anyway," She retorts, one hand hovering over her now broken cheekbone. You look at her now, your skull re-intact, eyeball sewn itself up and found its place back in your socket, flesh weaves and stretches over your bones to its rightful place. "Fuck," Ellie mutters, wincing as she touches to fingers to her newfound injury "The second that soldier gets hit with that rock, he gets back up and starts shooting, every single time."

You freeze "Every single time?" The very moment the words fall from your lips, Ellie curses herself "How many times have you been here, on this day?"

"Maybe like," She raises an arm in defence the other still cradling her cheek as she winces"Thirty-seven times give or take."

"You've never stopped it?"

"I have," She says, eyebrows furrowing with a certain longing "It ruins everything, if those men don't die, the American revolution never takes place." Ellie's gaze softens "I know that it's awful but it happens whether you're here or not, it was meant to happen."

Ellie reaches out to hold one of your blood-covered hands, but you are quick to retract it, pulling it away. Your eyes move from where her hand waits for yours to intertwine with it to her freckled face. "How many lives have we lived together?"

Her outstretched hand falls to her side. "I don't want to answer that."

"I want to know."

She shakes her head "You'd hate me."

"I already hate you," Your mouth acting faster than your head.

Ellie doesn't seem shocked by this statement, just a little hurt. "We've had good lives together, you don't hate me every time."

"Who have I been to you?" You ask, new questions surging through your scrambled mind, questions you were sure you wouldn't like the answer to. You knew Ellie had the ability to jump between time periods, though you hadn't known that she'd met you in other timelines.

Looking deep into her downturned eyes your mind runs rampant with who you could've been to her in other timelines that defined what you meant to her now. It was like trying to recall memories that didn't belong to you, but another version of yourself- what could've been.

The hushed silence finally dissipates when Ellie opens her mouth again "I'll see you in a hundred years." With that, she turns and walks away into the darkness, her body shrouded by the cold night where screams of the freshly dead hang in the winds like sickening howls.

Nebraska, America - June - 1883

I'll be seeing you.

"Not a bad place to camp, huh?" Tommy smiles at us while the sun blazes overhead, the group disregards him as they set up camp in a grassy clearing with just enough trees to offer shade to the overworked horses. Few pitched tents while the majority prepared for a night of sleeping under the clear sky, unprotected from the elements.

His question falls upon deaf ears "What's in Montana?" Another man, Issac asks. "We're going all this way and I want to know what I've uprooted my life for."

"Untouched land, you'll be a rich man." Tommy takes the cowboy hat off the top of his head, using it to fan himself off, protesting the sweltering heat that devoured him whole beneath layers.

You eye him, unsaddling your horse, Shimmer. You were in a group of people headed to settle in Montana, many of whom you had never spoken to and didn't necessarily want to. The only ones who you had properly known were the Miller family, Maria had been the one who told you about the trip initially, telling you they needed more gunslingers. With a face that doesn't age, a decade was getting a little too long to stay in Cody and here was your offer to get away.

Joel was speaking in hushed tones to his daughter, Sarah. She was nodding along to each word her father said, you had guessed it was a set of rules, him telling her not to run off or chase down wild animals.

You shower your sweaty chestnut horse with little pats and scratches, and she gives you a snort in response as you begin to wipe away the grime she's accumulated over the day's journey. Your entire life was packed away into two saddle bags, there wasn't much room for luxury in the Wild West. Times were harsh and lands were rugged, more commonly violent than anything you'd ever seen.

As you move in front of Shimmer to pet her soft face, she sneezes on you, reverberating on the rubber lips. You scrunch up your nose, and bring your sleeve to wipe your face "You're lucky you're cute," You mutter, hearing the sound of giggling and looking to find Sarah "Hey little lady."

"Hi," Her accent was thick, she came straight from the heart of Texas. Sarah was still young, the things you knew about her dad were only what she had told you, oversharing their personal life.

"Leave her alone now," Joel walks up behind Sarah, her wide eyes looking up at him.

"I don't mind, Joel," You answer. "I saw some sour cherries by the river if you care to come pick 'em with me," You say looking at Sarah whose head immediately shoots to her dad "As long as your father says it's okay."

Sarah silently pleads with her daughter, his gaze is still cold like steel. "Maybe tomorrow," He answers and Sarah's face drops. Despite knowing the Millers for months, Joel was always iffy about letting Sarah out of his sight. He knew almost as well as you how vile the world was, especially to young girls.

"Maybe tomorrow," You repeat Joel's words, digging around in your saddlebags for a small wicker basket and cloth to spread out at the bottom "I'll see y'all around," You give the pair a nod before heading down the bank.

The walk was quick and scenic if you ignored the overwhelming heat and the entirely too many layers you were sweltering beneath. You closed your eyes and let your spirit lift with the sounds of rustly grass and the flowing river nearby. The air was thick with the sweet smell of wildflowers mixed with an earthy bitterness from the ground beneath your feet.

You walked towards the tree, carefully plucking ripe cherries. They reminded you of the same ones you once picked back in Greece, as you ate them the juice smeared down your lips you laughed with your sibling, pretending that you had been blood drinkers or angry gods drinking the wine that was poured for them.

You often find solace in reminiscing over all of the people you have been in the span of one lifetime. You've been a wife, doctor, witch, god, poet, farmer, handmaiden, dressmaker, priestess, and now you were just a woman picking cherries and planning out her next facade. What awaited you in Montana? Hopefully somewhere peaceful, a cabin by a stream where you could live alone and lay outside in a grassy meadow, waiting for the sun to swallow you whole.

After filling the wicker basket, almost to the brim with small sour cherries, a little larger than the end of your thumb. You turn to walk back to the campsite, though you pause at the incline of the riverbank and decide against it, instead, you find yourself sitting under the shade of the cherry tree, staring to the other side of the riverbank.

You thought that you could've spent the rest of eternity under that cherry tree where you listen to the songs the earth sings for you. Here, the air is clean. The river itself was a sight to behold, a ribbon of shimmering blue that wound its way through the landscape, its waters sparkling in the sunlight like a thousand diamonds. Here and there, small ripples danced across the surface, creating patterns of light and shadow that played upon the sandy riverbed below.

Someone sits next to you, you can sense them awkwardly shuffling around to try and get comfy, from that alone you knew it was Ellie. "Hi, it's been a while," You say, voice quiet.

"Hey," She takes a cherry out of the wicker basket beside you, she bites into it, juice dribbling down her chin, nose scrunches when the sour taste hits her tongue. "Fuck, that's sour."

"They're supposed to be, they're sour cherries," You look at her face to see a large dark bruise engulfing one of her cheekbones, it spreads under her puffy eye bag, giving her a real shiner over her eyelid. "What happened to your face?"

"You," She says, pressing her lips together "After the Boston massacre you hit me pretty hard, remember?"

Your eyebrows furrow "That was more than a hundred years ago."

"For you," She corrects "It's been a little under a week for me."

Your gaze shifts to the glimmering river in front of you "That must be nice," That familiar sense of bitterness set in once again, the reason why you could never stomach being around Ellie for too long. She could blip in and out of your life as she wanted but you were the one forced to sit through thousands of years of torment and longing for the sweet release of death that taunted you in mirrors and the eyes of those who thought they knew you well.

She falls short of words to say. In your eyes it was nice, in her eyes, she faced the woman whom she had married in another life who held nothing more than a little resentment for her now.

"I am sorry that I hit you," You mutter, spitting out the pit of a cherry beside you. "You did cheer for the colonials to hang me though."

"And I am sorry about that," Ellie rolls the stem of a cherry between her fingers, more focused on it than any of her beautiful surroundings. She had seen every bit of scenery that there was to see, her favourite was seeing the dinosaurs, they were much more scary in person than they had been "At least you're an urban legend now."

"What's it matter to be an urban legend when you've already been a god?" You say "It just does not get more interesting than that."

"Yeah, watching you eat your own heart in front of terrified ancestors was pretty cool." Ellie flicks the cherry stem into the river, watching it get swallowed and pulled away by the currents "I'm glad you aren't still mad at me, if I were you I'd probably have a knife to my throat by now."

"I think I'm finally getting wise after two thousand three hundred four years," You joke, digging your teeth into the flesh of another cherry.

"What? You don't look a day over one thousand," She teases, a smile ever so slightly playing on her face.

"Thanks, I was worried."

"Don't be, you look great for your age."

She was joking, her tone light-hearted but something inside you breaks just a little more. You look at your hands, not a wrinkle or callous, no sign of the exciting and extremely terrifying life you had lived, just smooth young skin stretched over ancient bones.

You should've been nothing more than a skeleton buried beneath centuries-old rubble and flora by now. "Yup."

Ellie fiddled with her hands, trying to think of something else to say, she didn't want the conversation to be over just yet. She clung to every word you spoke like it was scripture and she was the most devoted follower. "What are you gonna do in Montana?"

"I think you know better than me," You answer, eyes focused on the water glittering in the blistering sunlight, beads of sweat resting on your brow. "Care to share?"

"Can't say."

"How come?"

She shrugs "I don't think you want to know."

"Well, how many times have I travelled with this bunch?"

"I've lost count," Ellie lies through her teeth, she knew every statistic, she had turned back time to the ancient cities 872 times to be with you. It slowly got easier to face you every time though it never replicated the love you had that first time, a high Ellie was forever chasing.

"Oh," You respond, leaning against the trunk of the cherry tree, sinking into yourself.

The silence stretches between you two. You had actually missed Ellie in the century that she disappeared completely; you found yourself waiting for her to show up around a corner and say something to annoy you.

After swallowing back another cherry in silence you open your mouth to speak "Ellie, whatever I meant to you, whoever I was, I need you to know that I'm not that girl-

"I know-

"I don't think you do," You say, discarding the stem of the cherry beside you "I need you to forget about any life we had together, at least until you get bored of this one."

"I don't get bored of it, I could never get bored of you," She answers.

"Then why start all the way from the beginning over and over again?" You ask "Just to watch me beg for death?"

Ellie shakes her head "I just can't let go of you." She listens to herself "I guess you're right, I'm holding onto someone who doesn't exist anymore." You watch the realization strike Ellie, with each rapid blink her eyes get more and more watery "I'm sorry, I know it's selfish."

"It is," You answer, feeling no urge to coddle "I'm not her, I know that you loved me but I don't remember what you used to be to me. I'm sure I loved you a lot, but I doubt that I do every single time."

Ellie nodded, using the heel of her palm to wipe at the tears that threatened to spill "Okay," Her voice hardly above a whisper "Just see this life through and I promise I'll fix everything, you live a good life, I promise." You stare at her blankly for a moment before nodding. She must know what waits for you in the future, something sweet perhaps, like sugar resting on the tip of your tongue. "I'll always hold you close but I'm learning you let you go."

"I appreciate it," You say, the ghost of a melancholy smile on your face.

The heat of the day finally disappears into the coolness of night and with that, Ellie disappears too, likely to be seen in another year.

The night was draped in the thick, velvety darkness that you only got in the west, where the only illumination came from the crackling flames of a campfire. Around it sat your sorry crew of companions, their weary faces highlighted by the flickering light, casting shadows that danced across the rugged landscape. They had ridden hard all day, herding cattle across vast plains and navigating treacherous terrain, but now, as they rested under the vast expanse of the starry sky, they sought solace in camaraderie and laughter.

"Y'all hear the one about the preacher who walked into a saloon?" Tommy began, his voice gravelly from years of dust and tobacco. Several others in the group had already called it a night, resting their heads beneath the stars that hung in the ink black sky.

The others leaned in, eager for the punchline.

"He says, 'I'm lookin' for the man who's been sleeping with my wife!' And a fella at the bar stands up and says, 'You'll have to narrow it down, preacher!'" The group erupts into bellowing laughter at his words and you can't help but smile at the pure joy written on these gruff men's faces.

"Alright, alright, I got one more for ya," Wyatt announced, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. He was an unnerving man from the looks of it, tall and intimidating but after the first day you had spent with him, he treated you like a baby sister, ready to go to war for you at the drop of a hat. The others perked up, their interest piqued by the promise of one last ribald tale."So there's this rancher," the cowboy began, "and he's got himself a problem with his bull. See, this here bull is getting up there in years, and he just ain't performin' like he used to."

A ripple of knowing laughter spread through the group, anticipation building for the punchline. Joel sat beside you, he had no interest in the jokes nor did he find them funny, all he got from it was a small detox from his life of overworking himself into exhaustion.

"Now, this rancher, he's heard all kinds of remedies for puttin' a little pep back in a bull's step," the cowboy continued. "But none of 'em seem to do the trick. So he finally decides to consult the local veterinarian."

The rest leaned in, hanging on every word.

"The vet takes one look at the old bull and says, 'I got just the thing for him. There's this new experimental treatment I've been workin' on. It involves a little bit of whiskey.'"

The campfire erupted with uproarious laughter, the group hooting and hollering at the unexpected twist, it ws far from the funniest joke you had ever heard, still, you laugh. Some slapped their thighs, others doubled over with mirth, and a few wiped tears of amusement from their eyes.

"And you know what?" the cowboy concluded with a grin. "After that little glass bottle was emptied, that ol' bull was buckin' like a bronco."

As the laughter at last subsided, the fire crackled softly as men began to say their goodnights and lull for the night. They sat in comfortable silence, their thoughts drifting to the vast expanse of the frontier and the challenges that awaited them come dawn and dreams of the promised land of Montana.

"Y'know, fellas- and madams," Wyatt addresses you and Maria, "We've been tellin' jokes and carryin' on like a pack of fools, but there's somethin' to be said 'bout the bonds we share out here on the range," he began, his husky voice tinged with sincerity.

The others nodded, aside from Joel who was studying the fire in front of him, tuned out from the conversation.

"I reckon there ain't nothin' quite like the brotherhood of the trail," he continued. "We ride together, we work together, and when the chips are down, we stand together. Through thick and thin, come hell or high water, we got each other until death takes us all." Wyatt takes another swig of his moonshine "We may come from different walks of life, but out here, under these stars, we're all just cowboys," the cowboy mused. "And there ain't no bond stronger than that."

"That ain't true," Issac poked up "I know that not one of us will see each other once we get to Montana, we're all goin' our separate ways."

"Don't mean there's no bond," You peep up.

"How's that?"

You shrug "Your heart is just too young to realize."

The group stops for a moment before erupting into ragged laughter, Tommy almost has tears in his eyes at the fact that you had called the man seemingly 15 years older than you young "Kid, you're too young to realize how bad life gets."

"Sounds about right."

Cape Cod, America - May - 1937

To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels.

In the hazed ambiance of the club, the air reverberated with the lively tunes of Duke Ellington, and the floor pulsed with the infectious rhythm of swing. Amidst the whirl of dancers, there you were, dancing so exuberantly that others backed away in fear of you swinging on them; though that was the nature of swing dancing, almost a fight to keep your nose unbroken.

But even the most seasoned dancers could only keep up for so long. As the night wore on and the music continued to play, you found yourself in need of a moment's reprieve. With a smile still lingering on your lips, you tapped your partner, Richard's shoulder, signalling your desire to take a break. You hadn't known him well by any means but he was a good dancer.

Leaning against the cool plaster of the club's wall, you breathed deeply, chest rising and falling in time with the music. You closed her eyes, savouring the lingering sensations of the dance. Little did you know, your moment of respite was about to be interrupted in the most unexpected yet delightful manner.

A voice, smooth and warm, broke through the cacophony of sound around you. "Mind if I join you?" the voice asked, accompanied by a gentle tap on your shoulder. Opening your eyes, you found yourself face to face with a strikingly handsome man, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. His black hair parted to the side and slicked over as well as his dark eyes soft as snow added to his undeniable charm.

A bemused smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, welcoming the interruption. "Not at all," you replied, voice carrying a hint of amusement.

With a casual elegance, the man leaned against the wall beside you, his gaze drifting out across the dance floor. "You're quite the dancer," he remarked, his tone tinged with admiration. He was wearing a white button-up tucked into pinstripe trousers being held up by black suspenders.

"Thank you. I've had a good bit of practice." You smile softly "Your name is?"

"Jesse," He answered "Care to tell me who I'm talking to?"

"Midge," you lie, it was the name you had picked up for your residence in Cape Cod.

"Midge," he repeats smiling as the name rolls off his tongue "You might just have the prettiest smile in Cape Cod."

You can't help but grin "And I thought I had already met all of the gentlemen around these parts."

"Must've been wrong," He said with his crooked smile. Then, after a moment's pause, he extended a courteous offer. "Can I buy you a Coke? It's the least I can do for such a captivating dancer."

You couldn't help but be charmed by his sincerity and manners. With a twinkle in your eye, you nodded in agreement. "I would like that very much."

Your conversation flowed effortlessly as you sipped on your cokes, exchanging stories and sharing laughter amidst the ringing of the club and chatter of individuals all around. With each passing moment, the two of you scrambled for things to talk about, desperate to keep the spark of conversation alive. You had just prayed that you could pull yourself away from his magnetic charisma.

As the night wore on, the music gradually began to fade, signalling the end of another unforgettable evening. Reluctantly, you rose from your seat, a sense of disappointment tugging at your heart while you watched Jesse lean back in his chair studying you like a textbook.

"Well, it looks like the night's coming to an end," you remarked, a wistful smile gracing your lips.

Jesse nodded, his expression mirroring her sentiment. "Indeed it has," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of hopefulness. "But perhaps it's just the beginning of something new?"

"Perhaps," You agreed, gaze lingering on his handsome face.

That was when you had broken the only rule you created for yourself 'Don't fall in love'. One year later you were so head over heels for Jesse that you were getting married. Dressed in your floor-length wedding dress, hair carefully curated after spending hours trying to perfect it.

You hadn't any family to fill up your side of the aisle, so instead you had asked your friends from work and the jazz club to take their places. After telling Jesse you were orphaned, he didn't bat an eye at this. You had frantically searched for someone to fill the shoes of your father who walked the earth centuries prior on the shores of Greece, it was a relief when Jesse's father stepped up.

Walking down the aisle of the church, arms hooked with Jesse's father you see him then, standing at the end waiting for you and he looks like the rest of your life. "You clean up nice," You mutter to Jesse quietly to be sure no one else can hear your little remark.

"I try my best," He smiles, hands in front of him as he waits patiently for the pastor to speak up. He looks handsome as the day you met as you look remarkably the same, not a new scratch or wrinkle upon a single inch of your skin.

As you exchanged vows, the both of you unable to fight the wild smiles on your faces, the world seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation. With each word spoken, you pledged your love and devotion to one another, promising to stand by each other's side through all the joys and challenges that life would bring and you meant every word.

The reception was nothing short of perfect in your eyes. Everyone gathered at Jesse's parents' home, flowing in and out as they pleased. You however preferred the outdoors aspect of it, where people chatted happily with a glass of champagne in hand.

"Congratulations," Ellie says "Little bummed that I didn't get an invite," There's an odd sense of bitterness in her voice. She's wearing a blue tulle dress at tea length, blending in perfectly around the other guests, long white gloves to cover the tattoo on her forearm, and she even had her shoulder-length hair pin-curled.

"I figured you would be coming around either way."

"You know me too well," She takes the champagne flute out of your hand and swallows it back.

"You're actually the one who knows me too well."

She nods, faces expressionless while she looks around at the scenery of the yard. "Good luck."

"I'm sorry?" You furrow your eyebrows trying to seek out some tell on Ellie's face that would give you any indicator of what's racing through her head. Still, she's unreadable.

"With your marriage."

"Okay?"

"What's the plan here anyways?" She asks picking up someone's glass of wine the second they place it down on the garden table and turn their head away. "In thirty years, you're still married to Jesse, he's sixty getting wrinkly and you're still young and beautiful?"

As Ellie goes to drink the wine you take it out of her hands, putting it back on the garden table. You think of something to say to her, anything, but the words die in your throat, shrivelling up, never to be said.

"I will say that you becoming a history teacher is very funny."

"Did you just come here to sulk?" You ask.

She shakes her head slightly "I've come here to celebrate your union," Ellie glances around the yard once more.

"Then celebrate," you throw your hands out "I don't see you doing anything other than slinking around."

"Honey, who's this?" Jesse strolls up beside you, putting one hand on the small of your back. He smiles brightly as he looks at Ellie, he has known all of your friends which wasn't a bountiful number to begin with, just other teachers you worked with and some people you danced with.

"Oh!" You force a smile onto your face "This is my old friend from New Orleans, we really have some catching up to do."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jesse," He holds out his hand.

"Ellie," She says shaking it.

"When did you become friends?" He asks "Midge hasn't told me a whole lot about her school days."

Ellie looks at you, she doesn't say anything but you get the message being conveyed. 'What the hell are you doing?' she shifts her eyes to look at the groom "God this one was just wild, keep an eye on her," Ellie forces a fake laugh.

"Really?" He has that goofy lopsided smile painted on his face as he looks at you.

"Yup," Ellie says "So, when are you planning on having kids?"

"Oh," Jesse chuckles, somewhat nervously "We haven't discussed that much."

"It seems like something you should talk about before getting married-

"Thank you," You cut her off "Ellie," You couldn't stand the idea of outliving your child let alone your husband, though it was already an inevitable fate.

"Of course," She's wearing a smile that is bordering somewhere between penitence and condescension, Ellie's looking at you like you're in the gutter.

"Looks like rain," Ellie glances up at the increasingly greying sky before walking inside the cover of the house. "Bad idea," She whispered in your ear as she brushed past. In mere moments after she enters the house thunder cracks and rain dumps from the sky, heavy and harsh, beating against your skin.

Everyone rushes inside, covering their heads as rain showers and soaks them. You and Jesse are frozen, you watch Ellie's figure retreat into the group of people clamouring into the house while Jesse's eyes are trained on you, he can't hold back a laugh.

"Oh no," Jesse's eyebrows furrow as he takes one of your hands in his own and puts the other on the back of your head, staring at your face, makeup running from the rain, hair weighed down by fat droplets dribbling off your collarbone "You spent so long on your hair, what are you gonna do?"

You shake off Ellie's words, cryptic as usual. Your attention snaps back to Jesse once you can no longer see her. The gentleness of his touch, that is his beauty "I'm not sure but I've got half a mind to kiss you," You giggle.

"Yeah?" He takes a step forward "I like that half," Jesse plants a gentle kiss on your lips "The other half is great too."

"You're so odd."

It was a quiet Saturday evening in the summer of 1943, the echo of a fuzzy-sounding record player scraping a vinyl filled the room, enveloping you in a certain tenderness.

Jesse, in his crisp white shirt and neatly pressed trousers, held you close, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as they moved together in perfect harmony. Your hair cascaded softly around your face as you rested your head against Jesse's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching the cadence of the music.

As you danced, the cares of the outside world didn't seem to exist, leaving only the intimate space you shared. The faint scent of your flowery perfume drowned out concerns. In the dim light, your shadows danced on the walls. Jesse had never been the better dancer between you though he was particularly tense on this night, his eyebrows were stuck furrowed like every thought running through his head was a worry.

The final notes of the song faded into the stillness of the night, Jesse hesitated, his embrace tightening around you as if reluctant to let you go. Sensing his unease, you looked up at him, concern etched in her features.

His unease wasn't difficult to sense, you pry yourself away from him to take him in completely. "Jesse, what's wrong?" You asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching over your features. "I've been drafted. I received my notice this morning." His voice trembled just the slightest as he took a shaky breath.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching in her throat and you thought that this must be what death feels like. For a moment, the world seemed to spin out of control as the weight of Jesse's words sank in. Six years with Jesse was not enough, you needed an eternity.

"We can find a doctor to exempt you-

"You know that's not right," He spoke so softly and you knew he was speaking the truth. You could never convince Jesse to do something as heinous as faking some disease or injury to get him out of the war.

"I know," You say and he steadies himself, staring deep into your eyes and through your soul "My whole life, all I've ever known is loss and I have never cared about anything the way I care about you-

He pulls you forward into his arms, rubbing that familiar calloused hand on the small of your back to soothe you "It's all gonna be alright, love, I'll be back before you know it and then it's smooth sailing for the rest of our lives."

You copied the crook of his neck, the warmth of his arms, the curve of his nose to memory. You caught all that you could before it slipped through the empty gaps of your mind. You hadn't realized that he had been doing the same, memorizing the smell of your perfume, the texture of your hair, the way your eyes caught the light.

He told you to look to the future when he finally walked back through that door and you could dance again but the only thing you could see was the end of the world, starting with you saying goodbye to him.

July 12, 1943

My Dearest Love,

I hope this letter finds you well and in high spirits. It's been quite some time since I last wrote to you, and I apologize for the delay. The days here in Europe seem to blend into one another, filled with moments of both intense action and serene contemplation.

As I write this letter, I find myself missing you more and more. You are what keeps me going through these harrowing and relentless days

Please know that you are always in my heart, my love. No matter where I may be, you remain my constant source of hope and inspiration. I dream of the day when this war is finally over, and we can be reunited once more, never to be parted again.

Until then, stay strong, my love. Know that I am fighting for you, for us, and for a better tomorrow. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, as I do for you each and every day.

With all my love,

Jesse

December 18, 1943

My Dearest Love,

As Christmas draws near, my thoughts turn to you more than ever. I find myself reminiscing about the holidays we've shared together, specifically the weekend we spent at the cabin. How I long to be by your side once more, to hold you close and celebrate the season of peace and goodwill together.

But even amidst the turmoil of war, I see you in every good thing. Here in the trenches, my comrades and I have found solace in each other's company, we are united in our common humanity and our dreams for a home cooked meal.

I am reminded, now more than ever, of the importance of compassion in times of strife. It is love that sustains us, that gives us the strength to endure even the darkest of days. And though we may be separated by miles and oceans, our love remains as strong as ever.

As I write this letter, surrounded by the sounds of gunfire and the cries of my fellow soldiers, I find comfort in the knowledge that you are thinking of me, just as I am thinking of you. Your love is my guiding light,

This Christmas, as you gather with our loved ones know that you are in my thoughts and prayers. Though we may be apart in body, our spirits are forever intertwined, bound together by the enduring power of love.

Wishing you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. May the coming year bring us closer to ending this war.

With all my love,

Jesse

March 19, 1944

My Dearest Love,

The world is now brighter than the sun because you're here, that is why I will remain giving you everything that I have.

I have been looking at the moon over and over again and wondered if you stare at it the same time as I do, please say yes. I think the battlefields are turning me into a poet, I would love some critique from a wordsmith such as yourself.

Everything here is frightening (redacted)

In light of the events I've just shared, I am looking forward more than ever to waking up and saying good morning to the sleepy woman lying next to me, that's you if you were curious. Here's to the future!

With all my love,

Jesse

August 8, 1944

My Dearest Love,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you today, for the horrors of war have taken their toll on both body and soul. The past few months have been filled with unimaginable hardship as (Redacted)

The knowledge that our sacrifices are not in vain, that we are fighting for a better future for generations yet unborn keeps these weary bones standing straight.

But oh, how I long for the comforts of home, for the warmth of your embrace and the gentle touch of your hand. In the midst of so much death and destruction, it is your love that reminds me of all the beauty that still remains in the world.

I fear that I may never see you again, my love, that this cruel war may rob us of the future we had planned together. And yet I'm not ready to give up. For as long as I draw breath, I will continue to fight for a world where love triumphs over hate, where you and I can go back to life as it was.

All of the living are dead and I have noticed an oncoming silence.

With all my love,

Jesse

May 7, 1945

My Dearest Love,

I can scarcely believe it – the war is finally over, and victory belongs to the Allies!

We won! Or we think we did, a true win would likely have less bloodshed.

But amidst the celebrations and rejoicing, my thoughts turn to you. How unmanly to cry though I find myself doing so as I write this. The thought of being reunited with you fills my heart back up despite those who have emptied it, for you are my everything, my reason for living.

I cannot wait to return home to you, my love, to begin our lives anew in a world free from the shadow of war. Until then, know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers and that my love for you knows no bounds.

It looks like I'm coming home soon! I'm looking forward to some dance lessons with my one and only.

With all my love,

Jesse

Though you weren't the only one occupying the seemingly empty house, you lived with ghosts. Every step you took they lurked behind you as permanent reminders of everyone you've ever let down; months stretched into years and you clung onto each word in Jesse's letter like it was doctrine. The moment you received that final letter from Jesse you ran out into the streets and hugged the very first person you saw.

"Ellie now isn't a great time to be here," You tell her as she stands behind you in your vanity while you reapply your lipstick "Jesse's home today," You can't help the smile that stretches across your face. After years of hearing from your husband in nothing more than ink over paper, you would see him again and not just in the pictures that you had hung around every corner of the house.

"I'm here to celebrate," She says though she doesn't seem enthusiastic in the slightest. She wears black cigarette pants and a short-sleeved blouse tucked into them. You, on the other hand, had pressed your hair flat only to do it up in pin-curls, wearing your finest dress and most expensive jewelry for your husband's return home.

"If you're going to water down today, you could at the very least pretend to be happy." You were so ecstatic that you didn't even mind that Ellie had chosen today to bum around your house. For once it wouldn't be empty with nothing but your hollowed cries.

"I am happy," She answers "Are you going to wait here for him?"

You shake your head while you put in earrings that Jesse had gifted you on your third anniversary "I'm going down to the train station so I can hug him the second he sets foot back in Cape Cod."

"Nice," She nods "Have you thought about what you're going to do if it doesn't go as planned?"

You furrow your eyebrows, putting the other earring down on the vanity so you can turn back and look at her. "What do you know?" Your smile dropped at her words. Ellie isn't as unreadable as usual, she has traces of guilt across her features and that makes you all the more concerned. "Ellie, what happens?"

Before she can even open her mouth, you hear a firm knock at the front door. "That," Ellie says, you push yourself up from the vanity so fast the chair tips over. You snatch the other earring off of the vanity and awkwardly force it into your piercing as you rush down the hallway as fast as you can in your heels, clickity clack over the floorboards, Ellie trailing slowly behind you.

Your heart was pounding so fast that it reverberated in your head like an echo bouncing off the walls of your mind. A click. A slow creak and you open the door. Sun floods into the room and your heart pinches at the sight of the officer, clad in military excellence with baubles and an olive green jacket.

"Who are you?" Your stomach drops at the sight of the stranger who stands in the place where your husband should be.

The man stared at you, a certain solemn yet controlled grief lurking in his pale eyes. "Ma'am, I am Sergeant Reynolds of the 45th Infantry regiment. Are you Mrs. Midge Maisel, wife of Jesse Chang?"

Your throat went dry. "Yes," You curled your fingers inward, feeling nails push into the soft palm of your hand until the skin broke and you pushed even harder.

You didn't know who helped you sit down when you couldn't move. You only remembered fuzzy voices and the pace of your heart becoming too fast for your body to handle. There was not enough air in the world for you to swallow. The world felt so far away, as did anyone who tried to comfort you or explain the circumstances of Jesse's death.

"After Germany was concurred, he intercepted a grenade ambush from stragglers, saving the lives of many in his platoon."

Everything had stopped spinning, leaving you nauseous where Ellie sat beside you her face smeared in your vision blurry from tears.

Accept our sympathies

Funeral arrangements

The return of personal effects

Bits and pieces of Reynolds's words jumped out at you but you couldn't hear them. Restless nights for centuries were instead what clouded your mind. Outside you could hear families and friends celebrating the return of their loved ones, while you ushered the man out of your door screaming at him to leave. Music played, a celebration you would not take part in but watch bitterly from afar while you plan out the next life you will live.

Ellie begins to speak when the eery silence becomes unbearable "I know you don't want to hear it but this was inevitable-

"Leave," You mutter, resentment simmering inside of you.

"What-

"Leave," You repeat "You knew this was going to happen and you didn't tell me? You didn't stop it?"

"I can't turn the world upside down just to make you happy-

"Then why are you here?" You ask, rage carved in deep despite the tears across your face "I thought you were in love with me and that's why you won't leave me alone."

Her words fail her. She stares at you blankly, trying to scrounge up an answer that would put you both to rest. "We have a good life-

"Ellie, this is not a good life, for you maybe because you don't have to watch me suffer since you can keep skipping to the parts where I'm happy again," You correct her words, fat teardrops streaming down your face while you try to compose yourself the same way that you would a song or a speech. "I'm going to tell you now so you have to get it into your head- We are not friends, I certainly don't love you, I don't even like you and if I ever see your fucking face again, I'm bashing it in."

Bethel, America- August - 1969

If we were vampires and death was a joke, we'd still go out on the sidewalk and smoke.

They wandered through the makeshift villages that sprung up amidst the chaos, where hippies and freaks shared food and shelter, and strangers became friends in the blink of an eye. Your hand was clasped tightly with Dina's while your pupils went wide under the influence.

She refused to let go and lose you in the crowd of sweaty bodies, despite your states you understood well that you would easily lose each other in the sea of people at the music festival and wouldn't cross paths again till night time. She was wearing a turquoise bell-sleeved top paired with a skirt of all sorts of funky patterns and had on at least six beaded necklaces. You'd think that she'd be hard to miss but in this crowd, she blended in perfectly, looking a little bit like everyone else as everyone seemed to bleed together.

You were already high out of your mind the world warping around you, everything moved in frames like an old film. The ground was morphing and breathing under your feet, you giggled with each step, following behind Dina to find the rest of the little group you had come to Woodstock with.

The two of you were nowhere close to the stage, you had only partially come for the music. To you, it seemed like another historic event to add to your list. While most people sit on the ground swaying to Janis Joplin, your small circle of friends was dancing; it was something like them loosely waving their bodies around.

"No one asks me for dances because I only know how to flail!" Dina shouts, laughing so hard that she leans on you for support. You laugh too, head resting on top of Dina's. Her words weren't funny at all but everything seemed funny when fractals hoovered around your eyes. You lifted your head just slightly to see that same freckled face that had haunted you for centuries.

"Ellie!" You shouted, letting go of Dina's hand and making your way towards her, eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dina lulled in place watching you run away from her.

Ellie looked frightened that you had stuck true to your promise of bashing her face in the next time you saw her but instead, you wrapped your arms around her tightly and began to sway gingerly. It was just the beating of hearts like two drums in the rain.

"I'm sorry," You mutter into the crook of her neck. "I missed you, you should visit more."

Hesitantly, Ellie hugged you back, folding her arms around your torso and letting herself sink into you. In the past 2380 you had never hugged Ellie, you hardly touched her. She closed her eyes letting delusion flood her brain, thinking back to the first time she had seen you and then seventy years later when she realized you were immortal and every other timeline she had lived with you.

"I missed you too," She muttered, trying to ignore the fact that you were only saying this because you were high.

You pull back away from her and take her in, all dazed. You give her a boop on the nose with your index and erupt in giggles while Ellie furrows her eyebrows. An idea strikes you and it's apparent on your face as you light up, eyebrows shooting up. "You should come to tell my friends about all of your time-travelling stories!"

Ellie starts to shake her head but you pull her away despite that. She trails behind you as you refuse to let go of her hand, dragging her back to the grassy patch where your friends danced, some of them taking a quick break flat on their backs. "This is Ellie, we've been friends for a long time."

The group acknowledges her, mainly with waves and giggles but Jimmy goes the extra mile, standing up and extending a lanky arm "It's good to meet you."

"This is my best friend in the world forever!" You sling an arm around Dina, calling for Ellie's attention. Dina leaned into your touch, a drowsy smile on her face. "Ellie can actually travel through time."

You tell the group and they all look toward her, eyes squinted and bodies relaxed. Ellie didn't mind, knowing that they were too high to believe her by the time they sobered up even if they did she could go back and fix it. She nods along "It's true and she's immortal." Ellie points at you.

"No, you're not," Dina pokes you.

"I believe it," Weston speaks up from his spot on the ground where he lies with Patricia, her ash blonde hair strewn across the grass "I have never seen this woman so who am I to not believe her." As opposed to the majority of the group whose pupils were dilated from LSD, the whites of his eyes had turned red from the herbs he smoked.

Stevie is still dancing, her loose white dress rustly so slightly in the gentle breeze. Dawn dances with her, her hair the colour of fire tied neatly into two twin braids, she doesn't care about anything besides the way her feet carry her.

"One time I cut out my own heart and I ate it," You giggle, head resting on Dina. Her face was sunkissed, accentuating her freckles. She had let her dark hair run loose.

Jimmy looks at you, through his sunglasses. He has Ellie sitting next to him, his ebony skin a contrast to her paleness. "How does that work?"

"I slice my skin open and then I break my ribs, rip out my heart and shove it in my mouth.

He looks you up and down "Ribs look fine to me."

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and you see a large rock with some smaller ones stacked around it. You walk over, all eyes on you as you put your wrist on top of the larger rock.

In your free hand, you pick up a smaller jagged rock that fits into the claw of your hand. You raise the jagged stone up and smash it into your wrist with little effort after the strength you have gathered over the years.

Dina lets out a scream watching your arm bend out of shape, wrist twisted so your hand doesn't sit where it's supposed to. You bring the rock up and slam it down again, making sure to dig into your skin, flesh mangled up on your arm and you brought it up to show everyone. Jimmy scrambled to his feet in a panic, racing through the crowd to find a medic.

"No, it's healing!" You shout after Jimmy. Weston looks at your mangled arm with wide eyes before buckling onto his knees and throwing up. Dawn and Stevie pause their dancing, Dawn froze in fear and Stevie backed away. "Do you see?" You shake your arm trying to show them that the wound was fixing itself.

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and then your eyes settle on Ellie who shakes her head at you. You knew this meant she had seen the outcome and it wasn't good so you decide to drop the topic, plopping yourself onto the grass.

"Don't you wanna dance?" Dina asks.

You shake your head. You had reserved dancing for Jesse who you knew you wouldn't see again, not even in death since it would never come for you.

The day had eventually faded away into night, the concert still rang loud but you stayed far in the back of the crowd, lying on the ground with Ellie and looking at the stars. "I'm really sorry for everything you've been through," Ellie breaks the pure hum of music.

"I'm really sorry for everything you've seen," You answer. "I thought the war would finally be over," You murmur, thinking back to Jesse and the idea you conjured up of his corpse; you imagined him to be blown into a million pieces, a thought that never left your mind no matter how high you got or what you drank you knew it wouldn't end. You had thought World War two to be the last until the Vietnam War plagued the news and began to pluck men from neighbourhoods all around.

"It doesn't end, not ever," Ellie tells you.

"You should fix it."

"I've tried," There's a hint of sadness in her voice "If one ends, a new one will always spring up."

The two of you fall silent for a moment, heads side to side but you don't look at one another, only the stars. There's something so calming yet unnerving about the inky black sky; it reminded you of the nothingness that consumed you on the night you had given up your mortality.

"I don't want to live," The words fall from your lips so effortlessly. The LSD was wearing off, leaving you to be in control of your thoughts and your body all over again.

"I know."

"I've seen more men die than I can count."

"I know."

"I can't seem to hate you though."

Ellie turns her head to look at you and you do the same. Her green eyes are shining beneath the moonlight, just the shadow of her face illuminated. You lean forward just the slightest and connect your lips into a kiss, Ellie seems surprised but she doesn't fight it.

Once you pull away, you can only seem to make out one sentence "Don't leave this time."

Greenport Village, America - April - 2011

A handshake of carbon monoxide, no alarms and no surprises.

As the late afternoon sun cast its golden hues over the rolling hills of the Greenport, you made your way home planning a quick visit to the beach before doing so, arms laden with bags filled with groceries from the quaint village market, arms laden with provisions that you had no need for, save to fill the endless hours of your existence.

You walked with your timeless beauty that seemed to shimmer like a mirage in the fading light, you had called the Greenport Village home for six years now, finding a position there as a history teacher, your favourite job of the hundreds you had worked. Though the passing decades had left their mark on the landscape and its inhabitants, you remained unchanged, frozen in time like a moth preserved in amber.

You still struggled to come to terms with the fact that death would never take you though Ellie tried to make it easier. All these years and it never felt any better, it was still difficult to swallow the truth.

There was no solace to be found in the quiet beauty of the world around you. For two thousand years, you had walked the earth with Ellie, you, a solitary figure doomed to wander the endless expanse of time and her, the shadow that trailed behind and mocked your existence without intending to. You had seen kingdoms rise and fall, witnessed the birth and death of countless generations, and yet you remained unchanged, untouched by the ravages of time. All of the identification you had forged didn't make you into who you said you were.

Walking towards the beach, you could've sworn that you recognized every face you saw but that was just how long you had lived; everyone you've ever known slowly bleeding into everyone else like a suicide cleanup. You would outlive the kids playing on the seesaw and the toddlers scrambling around them, you would outlive their offspring too and every other generation after that.

Eventually, you found yourself in your usual spot in the park, an old beaten bench outlooking the sea where sunlight danced off of it like sparks.

After the seventies, you had accepted that the land was your only friend, ever-changing just like you, yet it remained miraculously intact. You had Ellie, on occasion, though calling her a friend would be a loose term. You weren't sure what she was but butterflies and maggots had a field in your intestines every time you thought of all of the things she knew about you and how little you know of her.

The lack of trust always lingered. You never knew if she had gone back in time and forced you to forget about something she said or something you asked. How many times had you begged her to go back to the beginning and let you ebb away with old age?

As you sat in silent contemplation, lost in the labyrinth of your centuries-old thoughts, a frail figure approached, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. It was an old woman, her face etched with the lines of a life well-lived, her eyes twinkling with a spark of something you couldn't make out.

You shifted slightly on the bench, making room for her unexpected companion. The old woman, her steps slow and deliberate, lowered herself onto the seat beside you, exhaling a contented breath as she settled into place.

For a long moment, you sat in companionable silence, each lost in your own reverie. "You must be an old soul," The woman next to you speaks, covered in sunspots and wrinkles, grey and white streaks all through her black hair. "When you're old all you want to do is sit and stare at the scenery."

"Yeah," You give her a tight-lipped smile "I'm mature at heart."

The woman furrows her eyebrows for a moment, deep in thought as her brown eyes rake over every single one of your features, studying you like scripture. "I'm sorry," She shakes her head "You just look like a girl I used to know."

"Really?" You ask and then it strikes you like lightning. Despite the withering of her face, it's the same bump of her nose, the freckles across her skin, the curve of her jaw, it was your Dina.

She waves it off "She's long gone by now, haven't heard from her in years." Dina looks off to the ocean, the screech of kids is far off in the distance. Her face drops just the slightest at the mention of this.

"Who was she?" You press, just wanting to hear Dina's voice after decades of replaying memories and performing autopsies on expired conversations like you could somehow revive them and the people who came with.

"Oh, um," Dina hadn't expected you to carry on the conversation, people had stopped caring about what she had to say when time hit her and dragged her skin down. "A friend of mine, way back before you were born. If you could see her, gosh," Dina mutters, salt and pepper hair braided down her back "You could've been her twin."

Your heart was slamming against your ribcage like it wanted to be set free. "Uh, I'm sorry if this seems odd," You say with a shakey breath "But could you just keep talking? I don't want to have to think right now."

Her eyebrows knit together just the slightest, concern growing with your words "About what?"

"Just," You shrug "Reminisce maybe," Nearby there were birds on a wire chirping, it felt like every one of them was talking to you, beedy eyes prying into your veins "I just like stories."

Dina slips a small smile, her teeth not quite as white as they used to be but her smile holds all of the comforts nonetheless "My stories are no good, I'm sure you'll have better ones when you're my age."

You shake your head on impulse, grasping the pieces of her that you still held close to your ancient heart. "No, I don't think I'll get there," You aren't trying to ramble yet here you are, scrambling to reconnect the two of you like this is a film that ends well.

Her smile falters, trying to comprehend the odd woman beside her, beginning to contemplate that you're high on something, suspicion growing more solid with each shake of your hands and blink of your watery eyes. "Are you alright?" She lowers her voice.

"Yup," You nod, already feeling her slip through the space between your fingers all over again like she had years prior. At this point in your life, you should've been a better liar but you just sat there, tears rolling down silently while you forced your teeth to bear a smile. You wanted to tell her how nice it was to see her and remind her of all of the days and nights alike you had wasted on each other.

It was easy to see how she didn't believe you, from your trembling hands gripping your thighs in an attempt to steady them to the manufactured smile you wore on your face, sadness seeping from your pores. Unlike Dina, you felt that age had made you no wiser. Years you spent studying and chasing careers just to end up faking death and restarting all over again from scraps, losing a little piece of yourself every time.

She places one of her calloused and withered hands over yours where it grasps to the fabric over your thighs. She meets your gaze "Whatever it is, you'll be okay."

Something inside you shifts, then cracks, and crumbles completely. The agonizing pain accumulated by thousands of years spilled out of you in the form of tears as salty as the ocean spray that simmered on your skin. It was like every awful thing you had ever felt was going to burst through the gaps of your teeth.

There was entirely too much going on in your head when you inched forward and wrapped your arms around Dina, chin resting on her neck. It took a minute but you felt her bony hands rest on your back while she returned the gesture, albeit confused.

You were glad you got to see her again. Every time someone passes through your life you think of all of the things you would do to speak to them one more time. You had finally been given a blessing, something that balanced out the bitterness of eternity. "I'm sorry, Dina."

The second you spoke you regretted it. With what little grace you have left you manage to pry yourself up, sheepishly standing to your feet and trying not to wobble like a colt. Dina's bygone face held more confusion than ever, mouth slightly ajar as she watched you with wide eyes like a doe. "Honey, I think you have the wrong person."

Your feet move faster than your head, not leaving Dina behind a second time but a complete stranger. You had only been sick with nostolgia. Panic shot through your veins like box cutters trying to find their way to your heart, which they surely would.

Your day's shopping had been left behind at the bench along with all of the dreams you once etched into indigo skies and sandy shores, now all they did was rot at your feet, at least they had the pleasure of aging.

The feeling of screaming was creeping up your body in shivers, you hugged yourself all the way home, swivelling your head every minute to be sure that ghosts weren't following you but they always had a way of sneaking up on you.

What purpose did you serve? Anything mildly important you had ever done was lost to time, gone, forgotten. You didn't get the luxury of having children with the one you love, you didn't even have anyone to love. You drag your mud-covered heels all the way up the steps of your stoop slamming the door behind you.

With trembling hands and a mind consumed by anguish, you began to tear through her home with frenzied desperation, your movements fueled by a maelstrom of emotions too powerful to contain, the urge-no, the need to die. You ripped books from their shelves, their pages fluttering like wounded birds as they scattered across the floor in a flurry. You overturned furniture with reckless abandon, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoing through the empty rooms like a orchestra of destruction.

You open your cabinets, dragging your hands behind all of the ceramic and glass, pushing it to the ground and watching them shatter at your feet. What need did you have for a fridge full of food when you don't have to eat? Or a feathered bed when you don't need to sleep, you can't even bring yourself to sleep these days.

Each crash and thud seemed to reverberate through your empty, a haunting reminder of the pain and turmoil that threatened to consume her from within. Memories, once cherished and dear, now lay shattered and broken like all of the ambition you should have forgotten, fragments of an overwhelming life that had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

With a guttural cry of anguish, you sank to your knees amidst the wreckage, body racked with sobs that seemed to tear at your very core. You clutched at your hair in despair, her fingers intertwined in the tangled strands like thorns in a bed of roses.

Your eyes snagged on the cabinet below your sink. You crawl over to it, shards of shattered glassware sticks into the soft palms of your hands, porcelain china cutting up your knees. It didn't even feel like anything, you just wanted to feel something.

You pull the cabinet open pushing the other cleaning supplies aside and grabbing the ammonia and bleach. Twisting the caps of and discarding them among the wreckage, you take a deep breath before raisng the bottle of bleach to your lips and drinking, the harsh and ancrid taste making you cringe but you kept swallowing until you could feel a burning in your throat, taking a quick shallow breath and then doing the same with the ammonia, tears brimming your eyes and hitting the few beams of sunlight that struck through your closed curtains like the glimmer from the ocean.

God, it tasted rancid but for a moment, a brief one it had felt like death or something similar. Mouth feeling like plastic throat burnt to rubber you drank until both bottles were empty. You pressed yourself as flat as you could on the floor, soaking in the last moments of feeling as your insides contorted before stillness.

All of the cells you killed were fixing themselves up and after a minute, you felt numb like you tended to. You hiccup, body jerking upwards just the slightest, a spat of vomit now dribbling at you chin.

Deep inside of you, you knew Ellie would be back to fix your wreckage and leave you oblivious to the destruction you not only caused but craved. She would just keep going back until you help something on the spectrum of happy.

Define happy.

Smiling?

Joking?

Laughing?

Not digging through the dictionary to find new ways to try to kill yourself?

That last one sounds right.

"Ellie, I can't do this anymore!" You screeched hoarsely to the empty room, despite the freckled girl being nowhere in sight. "Can you please let me die now!"

You call for her until your throat is as dry as sandpaper, hollow words scraping themselves dry before they can leave your mouth. Your voice is reduced to a pathetic rasp and you pray that she regrets stealing blood from your veins.

"Please!" You scream, fingers gripping onto the marble counter to haul yourself up. You stumble for a moment as you adjust to the jagged shards you stand on. "I know we've done this before but you'll just lie and make me sound like I'm fucking crazy," A sob falls from your mouth like a howl.

You pull a long kitchen knife from the knife block, and watch the silver blade glimmer, a warped reflection of yourself staring back at you. With little hesitation, you plummet it into your stomach, again and again until your midriff is a mangled fleshy mess. Blood pooling out of you like cherry wine. Nothing new.

"Asshole!" You cry out "I know you're hiding around here somewhere!" Your mind immediately went to how many times this situation had played out, on this same day. Maybe you had done something worse.

Lungs burning from screaming, cries throbbing inside of your throat, you have one last idea that had to have happened before. "Can you please stop?"

You turn to face the voice, hair matted, clothes torn and bloody, vomit from makeshift mustard gas sliding down your chin to your neck. You drop the knife, it clatters against the tiles "No," You approach her, each step more certain than the last. "You need to stop, this isn't right."

"I know," She says, face stone-cold a hint of irritation in her tone. She's back in her grey hoodie and jeans, finally, she fits into the time period.

"If you know then why have I been pleading with you to go back to the start and stop me from dying in the first place and making that deal?" You're inches away from her, voice carrying challenge if not bitterness. "Like I've asked you over and over again." Your voice is unsteady like it's being crushed beneath the weight of the world.

"Because I love you," She says, raising one hand to cup your face.

If it were for the chemicals flattering through the air making you nauseous, this act alone almost brought you to your knees with sickness. You don't bother to move her hand though, just shuddering under the touch. "Do you really?"

She nods, gaze softening "Yes."

"Then you'll go back and you'll fix all of this right?"

Her hand falls from its resting spot on your face. "You want to forget?"

"No, I want to die." Silence falls between you. Each rise and fall of your chest shaky and ragged "You keep forgetting that I'm a person, I'm not a concept you've curated in your head." It was hard to find yourself being gentle to her. It was hard to feel bad for her in general with how she treated your entire being as something for her to tune in and out of as she pleased.

Ellie takes a breath in, eyes unwavering from yours "Okay."

"Okay?" You don't believe her "You'll fix this and you'll leave me alone and let me live a regular life without knowing you?" You breathe the moment in, the hopes that this will be over soon. The taste of heartache and war could be washed away from your mouth, you wouldn't meet Joel and watch his daughter die in front of him or meet Jesse and fall in love. The humiliation to be made of rotting flesh then it hits you- how many times have you had this conversation? "I want you to promise-

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

I prayed for your breath right here in the shallows.

This time around, Ellie doesn't intervene. She watched you, panic-stricken, fumble over wet sand and glide past slick rocks. Trying to outrun your fears of wasting your life.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until Ellie kneeled down next to your body and gingerly guided it into the ocean for it to take. The blood from the wound in the back of your head is sucked away into the sand. She watched your corpse drift out and get pulled down, all she needed was another lifetime with you. You didn't know how miserable you were with her anyway.

This is not a story about love.

A/N: guys I’m breaking hiatus to post this bc I realised it’s been hanging in my drafts for a century (century haha) Anyways I actually hate this but it felt too long to scrap so thanks for reading.

Perm tag list: @ellslvr @gold-dustwomxn @bready101 @whenlostinthedarkness @veeveeisgay @vqxen

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linamromero · 4 months

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚��𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐥𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚 𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 - 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑.

...

it happened again.

the team won the la liga for the season again. It was even better because your girlfriend alexia made her comeback after being out for nearly 10 months from a nasty knee injury.

you and alexia were celebrating on the way back to the changing room, clinging on to the trophy her hand on one handle and yours on the other, "nosotras somos las campeonas!”

"mi amiga!" patri sang the next lyric so she played the queen song on the speaker.

alexia pulled your body close to hers swaying to the music, you buried your face into her neck placing light kisses every once in a while, "amor!”

"sí?" you hummed sending vibrations through her body.

"i don't want to stay out late tonight, we can celebrate at home." alexia whispered stroking your hair.

"how would you like to celebrate at home?" you smirked playing dumb.

"i think you know." she murmured in your ear.

"venga lovebirds, have a beer!” mapi handed you both a bottle of estrella from her cubby.

"valé valé valé!" alexia put her hands up before taking her sweaty match shirt off.

you could help but stare a little too long before taking your own shirt off. the team sang and danced for a while before you decide to go home and get dressed up to go to manuelas.

you both got into alexia’s car and managed to get out of the car park before being swarmed by fans. the both of you took photos and signed items before leaving the premises.

once you got home, alexia went straight upstairs into your shared bedroom changing for a shower, “y/n cariño are you showering with me?”

"sí claro, stupid question bonita but we can't be long i promised patri i would pick her and piña up." you called up stair well.

"valé!”

you rushed into the master bedroom taking your shorts and sports bra off as you were eager to get to alexia. she was in the shower facing the wall you thought she looked good from behind. her ass is incredible.

you opened the glass shower door, she didn't even turn around so you approached her holding her hips, grabbing her bum lightly, "hola bonita." she greeted you.

you hummed in response kissing over her neck and across her left shoulder, you brought her arm up kissing all the way down her arm and down her hand to her index finger. alexia tilted your chin up to look at her in the eyes, bringing you close to her face connecting her lips with yours.

no words were shared, just through actions.

you managed to wash each other without getting too carried away, "can you pass me my towel amor?"

the midfielder wrapped a towel around you and her own around herself walking back into the master bedroom. you decided to dry and straighten your hair, leaving your natural freckles to sprawl themselves across your face only applying a little bit of mascara.

finally you decided to wear some caramel dress trousers and a white vest top paired with your dior high tops, gold rolex, cartier bangle and chunky rings.

your girlfriend decided on a black crop top with extra ties and a matching black ruched skirt. she left her hair looking wet pushed back out of her face, alexia put light eyeshadow on with lashes and a red lip, "what jewellery shall i wear?"

"definitely gold so maybe your hoops and the gold rolex i got you." you suggested, which she agreed putting them on.

"and my shoes?"

"your red jordans 100%." you implied.

"you have such good taste, i know i can count on you." alexia smiled kissing your lips lightly.

"ale!" You groaned.

"que?"

"you got your lipstick on me." she wiped your lips with her finger, "no kissing me all night."

"but y/n, that's gonna be so hard you look so good." alexia smirked.

“you’re just gonna have to behave."

"i will try my hardest ." alexia raised a brow grabbing her bag.

...

after the couple picked up patri and piña they drove to the open air restaurant, their head coach had invited the team out for a celebratory dinner.

of course they were the first of the players to arrive, alexia was always good with her timing, arriving first to everything.

"hola bona nit.” each of the greeted.

"sit, sit." he pointed at the rather long table.

you and alexia sat near the head of the table as the staff sat next to jonatan who was at the end with patri and piña sitting opposite you. once everyone arrived jonatan handed your girlfriend the trophy placing it in between you both.

"mi reina." You mumbled into alexia's ear, a smile appeared upon her lips.

"mi querida." she looked at you with loving eyes.

everyone had eaten and drinks were flowing, you were finishing third estrella whereas your girlfriend was finishing her fourth strawberry daiquiri. mapi danced over to the table with a large jug of sangria, "let's get this party started!"

you all cheered, mapi filling fresh wine glasses to the brim with the beverage. you placed your hand on alexia's bare thigh making her flinch at the coldness of your rings, "lo siento."

she brushed her thumb over your knuckle reassuring you that she was fine.

jonatan told everyone to grab a photo with the trophy in which you all did, "campeonas! campeonas !" cata and mapi started shouting dancing around with her flag that she bought with her.

eventually you all floated off to manuelas which you were looking forward to. As soon as you entered, you were stamped with a 'manuelas' tattoo and lots of stickers.

you got the love was playing a slowish song so you dragged your girlfriend to the dance floor slinging her arms around your neck. slowly dancing and singing the lyrics with your teammates.

she span her body around as antes de morirme started playing guiding your arms around her waist, you pulled her hips colliding them with yours. her skirt began to ride up as she grinded her backside into your crotch, “cariño."

she looked up at you with an innocent look on her face, "si mi amor?"

"i said behave." you bit your lip.

"i am not using my lips though am i?" alexia winked at you knowing that she was teasing you.

"bathroom. ahora." you grunted in her ear.

you got to the bathroom, other women were hooking up by the basins so alexia lead you into a cubical. you pushed her up against the door, exploring her exposed body in the limited space you had.

she returned the favour, flipping your body over onto the door, pulling your straps of your vest top down taking it off with your bra. alexia attached her lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at it moving down to your breasts, "ale."

she just looked at you innocently, "you want this right?"

you nodded in response and she set to work taking your nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it adding a light suction. At this point alexia's lipstick had smeared all over your body but you were too busy to care.

"ale! y/n!" a voice called from outside the cubicle, of course it was ana.

her voice pulled you out of the messy fog, "yes what?"

"if your gonna have sex, go home." she yelled as you quickly put your clothes on and opened the door.

“how did you know?" alexia furrowed her eyebrows.

"look at the state of y/n for a start!” your body was absolutely covered in alexia's lipstick.

"ah well i-."

"save it, just go home i've ordered you an uber and pick your car up in the morning." ana said leaving the bathroom.

"gracias ana!" you pulled a face as you left the club.

"we can continue this at home, mi reina." you smirked getting in the taxi.

#woso #alexia putellas #futfem #barcelona femeni #woso community #alexia x reader #fcb femení #espwnt #woso x reader #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #alexia #la reina #alexia putellas x reader #woso oneshot

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kalims · 1 year

Note

Can I please request any Twst character seeing their crush kiss their tsum?

⊹ kissing their tsum tsum

premise. maybe leaving their tsum somewhere to come back to wasn't such a good idea anymore when it's clearly taking the attention of the person they like.

parts. floyd (i somehow forgot him help)

content. gender neutral reader

characters. riddle, leona, jack, epel, sebek

cw. written by someone who hasn't played through the event and does not know shit lol

note. are they just plushies??? or do they have a consciousness of their own??? I am so confused but wow I wrote somehow

I just slapped whoever had cards on the event onto here 😭 caters part is my favorite ugh

riddle rosehearts

left his tsum in it's custom made velvet chair to grab another jar of sugar since riddle didn't know it ran out.

and yes, he had one made for it. smaller version of his own and stuff, it literally has better privileges than any other resident of the dorm.

^ he totally drinks tea with it and believes that even if it isn't actually alive it's him and if this tsum didn't drink tea at the exact time for a specific rule he still feels like he broke one.

he even pours a cup for it hekasbkqkas.

I mean the liquid doesn't get drank by anyone obviously but riddle still does it.

so as he's walking back, opening the chair to take a peek to see if it's enough cubes once he closes it, and looks up he almost just trips on air and drops the glass jar.

he fumbles with the object for a second, blinking rapidly at the sight of you snuggling into his tsum then giving it little kisses every now and then, did he hear you calling it cute—?

"wha...what in the world are you doing?!"

"it's so adorable.." you mumble, hearing the boy but it just goes in one ear and out the other.

good lord he doesn't know whether he'd like to melt into a puddle, combust from his red face, or be that tsum.

should he be jealous? no. but is he? yeah. even if he's denying it severely.

next session the tsum was left with no tea and was promptly caged in his room in hopes that you would not do all that to his tsum, and to his real self instead.

leona kingscholar

I honestly don't think he would really care for it??

I mean wow. it looks like him. cool. whatever. what's he supposed to do with it? it's just a plush no need to work up so much for it.

not that doing effort for it benefits him in anyone but he just keeps it on his bed since he didn't really wanna go anywhere else and his bed just happened to be near so...

*yoink*

no one tells him this, especially not ruggie but he actually sleeps with it. an arm over it sometimes and usually coddling it in his arms.

trust me ruggie has proof.

100 madol for 5 seconds fr

well as usual it's in his bed just there in it's habitat just like the real leona kingscholar.

even someone like him takes the time to actually go to the bathroom so while he's gone, and when he's on his way back he immediately knows you're there.

that's a scent he can recognize anywhere (well duh. bro spent so long tryna engrave it) and if he can smell you so close to his destination then obviously you're in his room.

also he left the door slightly closed and it's more open than before so that's that.

just like anyone else he completely stops before he could open his mouth and is actually flabbergasted and flustered?

why are you kissing his tsum?? "that's kinda creepy ain't it?" he drawls but his tucked ears says I wanna be it so bad.

"guess i'm creepy then."

you say simply and go back to coddling the damn thing. leona scowls at the relevation. there's no way a small, lame version of him is gonna win you like that!

move over so you can enjoy the real thing >:(

jack howl

mr. everyday is leg, arm, everything day guy.

I believe he's more of an outdoors dude, a very sweet outdoors dude.

the kind of sweet outdoors dude that would buy a miniature plushie version of weights for his tsum so it can get the eveyday is leg, arm, everything day too.

cute thing is jack is actually so proud of himself 😭 evident from the cute lil' wag of tail he does.

he's so pure!!

and him and his tsum totally 'work out' together.

well it's mainly him but he likes to think that his tsum is too. if he's doing an exercise that doesn't require a lot of moving his tsum is just there somewhere with it's weights facing him.

if he's running he has it on his shoulders awww..

sometimes he can get a little distracted though. from his intense focus he didn't even hear you approaching, let alone sitting down and basically hogging his tsum all to yourself!

at some point you just made the tsum copy whatever the real jack does. jack is doing push-ups? damnn.. tsum is doing is so easily.

you get the point.

it's only then when jack notices when he hears you and mistakes your comment for him.

"ahh, you did great cutie.. so strong, so cute." he hears you mumble and turns pink before turning back to look at you and the happy movement of his wolf traits pause.

oh that wasn't for him.

jack stares in envy. HE SWEARS THAT TSUM JUST SMIRKED AT HIM.. LITERALLY TRAITOR.

man just feels betrayed.

cater diamond

absolutely adores him tsum to bits!!

ever since he got it he practically drags it everywhere and his magicam page is full of it.

I reckon cater named it. maybe dia(mond) or something, if not then the classic cater 2.0 which is funny cause now he got 3 clones!!

^ the other two and now lil' cater 🎤

which makes me wonder. it'd totally be cute if he had like, two other tsums that are copies of the result of his unique magic. now it's actually cater 2.0 for real!

cater 2.0 is definitely more popular than some students so you could go up to one and say: you know who this is *picture of random student*

they'll be like: ehh... can't say I do, or seen them before

you holding up a picture of cater 2.0: what about this?

them: oh thats cater 2.0 obviously!

random student crying in the backround.

IMAGINEEE (laughs in pain)

ahem. he likes to have his tsums (tsums cause he actually got 3 to match himself) around everywhere so he can incorporate them into his selfies.

also he needs to feed everyone more cater 2.0's content. there's cater D, cater I, and cater A who all spell out dia :DD big brain

in the music room of his club where's he's peacefully testing out a riff behind him his tsums lay..

so obviously he didn't hear you shuffle into the room, let out the quietest gasp ever and just take the three into your arms and look like you're in heaven.

you stay like that for a while, smiling and hugging the tsums cause wow were they just adorable! and there's three of them!

you all spare the three a sweet kiss before realizing that the music has stopped and cater is pouting at you.

"aw that isn't fair!" he whined, and smiles cheekily. "these guys and I want some of that too!" he points to his two splits that has recently conjured.

now you got three miniature caters that got the kiss, and three real caters that want one yayy!

sebek zigvolt

said he was not going to care for.. something like that and if there was anything like.. that, the only thing he'd care of was one of malleus'.

then said that 'he wanted to educate the plush' even though it was a plush. he's already contradicting himself here, where's the hate??

legit just rambled to the plush for an hour straight preaching about the greatness and glory of his young master.

where silver actually woke up from! silver!! crazy, right?

it must have been a lot of even silver rose from it.

said he was not going to spend anything on it unlike the other people who had spent a hefty amount of madol for the comfort of their tsum and for them alone.

but he figured.. just getting a small painting of the young master so the tsum would look at it everyday isn't too much of a stretch.

that's what he said before and now he's on his way to get another smaller version merch of malleus.

god forbid if malleus ever came inside the room cause he's just gonna see a lot of stuff.. but don't worry cause sebek atleast has a separate corner for all that.

'I will not care for it' my ass.

of course he had completely forgotten that he had invited you over and was outside fetching his blade he forgot to bring inside.

as per dorm rules! don't want it flying away anywhere if a.. *coughs* storm suddenly appears.

lilia had already invited you in and insisted it was fine for you to enter sebek's room beforehand even with your doubts he just pushed you in and you weren't in a place to argue when he didn't even budge when you tried to stop.

once you just walked around out of curiosity it was only in due time where you would see the plush.

an idea pops in your head.

sebek did not expect to see you inside his room.

let alone on his bed, with his tsum in your arms and you dutifully committing yourself into showering it with love and affection.

he's just flabbergasted, shocked to silence, every synonym near to those. but there's an increasing amount of steam pouring out of his ears as his face twitches more by the minute.

"WHAT ARE YO—"

you kiss it so casually that sebek shuts up and almost faints out of embarrassment and fluster.

WHAT IS GOING ON?? he's so confused. WHO LET YOU IN??

bat chuckling somewhere

epel felmier

would very much like to dress up his tsum.

he knows because vil already saw the tsum looking like a monstrosity covered in dirt and leaves, only spared a disappointed look but stayed silent.

not in the way you'd think cause he feels like he can do whatever he'd like to this tsum and vil wouldn't really care like the man would to real epel.

a hallelujah for him honestly.

he doesn't really put much love to his tsum but it's pretty cute that's all. rook finds it way more appealing than him though which he isn't sure how to interpret.

epel doesn't leave it just anywhere when it's outside of pomefiore. cause students there are polite and definitely would not wreck a plushie that looks exactly like him.

if he did the tsum would probably disappear on campus and be found in a dumpster.

*chills* cause he somehow feels for the tsum.

when he's angry he just vents to it and vents whenever. including the times he's just having a crisis about you.

if that tsum was alive godddd epel would be so exposed.

he left the tsum somewhere outside, in the middle of the garden.

he was practicing his make-up there, as per vil's instructions and went out to go fetch a product he had forgotten to grab along with the others.

he figured he might as well take a cup of water as a drink to go.

epel is just gulping down the water when it's just coincidence that he lowers the cup, sees you, there's water still in his mouth, then you give his tsum a little cute kiss so he just spits it all out.

OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT. he thought completely out of it. he stares intensely at the tsum.

he's definitely regretting venting to the tsum about you cause epel somehow thinks it's somehow alive and is now rizzing you up, with the knowledge HE gave IT!

he's so mad help 😭

*epel trying to aggressively rizz you up too*

"you don't need that." *snatches and throws the tsum away*

IN JEALOUSY.

meanwhile you watch it fly with sad eyes. :(

mad epel.

note. jesus christ I wrote all of this RIGHT AFTER I posted that /srs ☹ AND I DID ALL THIS IN LIKE AN HOUR HELP ME WHERE DID THAT COME FROM

commision me!

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #twst imagines #twst scenarios #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #cater diamond x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #epel felmier x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #cater diamond #jack howl x reader #jack howl #twstnexus #ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !

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yogurtkags · 2 months

Note

congrats on the milestone, cid!!! for the event, how about kageyama with YOUR favorite premise/trope? 🫵

❝ STUCK WITH YOU ❞ — kageyama tobio

cw. gn!reader, implied friends to lovers, forced proximity (there is only one bed), mutual pining, comfort, confessions, not beta read. word count. ~ 1.2k synopsis. whispered confessions and hesitant embraces of a boy in love event masterlist

well shit.

“i can take the floor—“ the both of you splutter out at the same time, causing a little giggle to escape your lips and even tobio to crack a tiny crooked smile, both of your cheeks flushing a light pink.

“the floor’s so uncomfortable, it’s going to ruin your back and you’re not going to like it during practice tomorrow.” you pointedly remark, eyebrow quirked and hands on your hips, thinking you’ve won with your argument.

the rain pelts against your bedroom windows, little taps growing progressively louder and faster and as the winds howl and the trees sway, like a ticking clock counting down to a verdict.

you gave him the option to stay over with his best interests in mind, he can’t afford walking home drenched in the rain and getting sick right now with a match in a few days. but the idea of being in such close proximity for a night with the boy who seized your heart causes it to hammer anxiously in your chest, like butterflies emerging from their cocoons. maybe i didn’t think this through.

crossing his arms over his chest with a scoff, he grumbles matter-of-factly, “and let you go through the discomfort instead? no way in hell.”

once he's made up his mind, there's no convincing him otherwise.

he swears that he cares so much for you, he just doesn't know how to express it in words without being a little blunt and sometimes a little mean, but you know he has good intentions. you wouldn't willingly be friends with him if he didn't, at least he hopes that's the case— his stomach threatens to drop at the idea that he had possibly made you feel upset in any sort of way. it might seem dramatic, but he'd rather die than make you feel like you'd have to walk on eggshells around him.

“well if you’re so against it, we can…" you clear your throat nervously, eyes darting across the floorboards and unable to meet his, "...share?"

tobio's cheeks burn with the implication of your words. the two of you, in bed, together, just the thought alone is enough to cause his brain to short-circuit, leaving him in a stuttering mess and avoiding your eyes, suddenly finding the band poster on your wall very interesting.

you would've missed his quiet "okay" if you weren't looking at him and trying to gauge his reaction from the corner of your eye, his voice barely above a whisper, “but i’m pushing you off if you kick me.”

“excuse you, it’s literally my bed?!”

“dumbass.”

with a huff, you turn and crawl into your bed, rolling to the side closer to the window and grabbing part of the blankets, giving him some space if he decides to join you. facing away from him to hide your nerves and expression, you announce, "well i'm turning in now, it's up to you if you want to get in or not."

you try your best to play it off nonchalantly, but everything in your being prays and hopes that he does. every second that you wait, the faster your thoughts race, you worry that he only said yes to appease you, that you made him uncomfortable with your question, that you were getting ahead of yourself. maybe this was a bad idea.

the swirling tornado of thoughts in your mind was interrupted by the feeling of the empty space behind you dip with weight. it doesn't do much to soothe your nerves, but you focus your eyes on the raindrops trailing down your window, letting it still your heart, even if just for a little while.

as the two of you lay in silence, backs facing each other with a little river of a space between your bodies, neither dare to move even an inch. your senses are on high alert, taking note of every single movement, every breath, the fibers of your sheets feeling scratchy for the first time, just waiting, longing for something to happen.

the sudden flash of lightning and loud thundering causes a small yelp to slip out of your lips, flinching as the burst of bright light floods your vision and temporarily illuminates the dark room. your back lightly brushes against tobio's and you're quick to apologise, "i-i'm sorry, i was just shocked by that."

"i know," you told him some time ago that storms make you a little anxious, he remembers every little detail about you, committing it to memory, "are you okay?"

turning his head to look at you over his shoulder, his heart clenches at the way you shake your head with embarrassment, almost trying to make yourself smaller and shrinking your frame against him. you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it, silently glaring and cursing at the sky and the dark clouds that inhabit it, why did this wretched rain have to make things weird?

with a sharp inhale, he bites the bullet and tests the waters, turning around and reaching for your hand. as his fingers brush over your knuckles, your breath catches in your throat at the delicate motion, the callouses and roughness feeling like light tender scratches on your skin, creating a gentle distraction to your weary soul.

it’s odd. you two were always close, but not like this, yet it feels natural. your hands fit together like pieces of a puzzle, yours cradled in the palm of his larger ones. in your vulnerability, you rest your forehead on his clothed chest, trying to ground yourself and slow your breathing, finding comfort in the rhythm of his heart thrumming against his chest.

tobio hopes that you don’t notice the speed of his pulse, and even if you do, he wishes you won’t bring it up for the sake of his sanity. before this, he longed for the day that he could hold you in his arms, but now that the time has come, he can’t help but wish it was under different circumstances, nonetheless counting his lucky stars for this opportunity to be there for you.

with tremoring hands, he pulls you closer and strokes your hair, running his fingers between the soft strands in a light caress, recalling the days when miwa used to do this for him as a young child riddled with fear. your body melts against his in relief, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, sinking into his steady hold and letting the rise and fall of his chest slowly lull you in a calm rest.

this feels... nice.

tobio thinks you look beautiful in this light, the faintest glow from the streetlamps below shining in through the sheer curtains and fanning across the apples of your cheeks. he almost gives in to the temptation of brushing his lips against your forehead but decides against it, settling with admiring your delicate features and letting his eyes trail across the fine details of your face.

in the quiet of night when he thinks you're asleep, he plucks the courage to whisper into the crown of your head, three words he's had on his mind for a while now, allowing himself to drift off into slumber with your soft smile pressed into the crook of his neck.

notes. mac my fellow tobio enjoyer, thank you for requesting our beloved blooberi boy and my favourite tropes (you know the way to my heart) ♡ i look forward to more screaming crying thirst sessions with you over mr tobio, much love to you !! (dividers: @/cafekitsune) reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq #kageyama tobio fluff #haikyu fluff #hq fluff

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rhys-writes-some-shit · 8 months

Text

"Sing to Me?"

Alastor x Reader (QP)

Yawning, you trudged out of the bathroom, drying your hair loosely with a towel. You were warm from your shower and the filling meal you'd had a little while earlier. Alastor was probably the best chef you knew, a fact you were extremely proud of. Even if your preferred form of protein was banned from the hotel premises, Alastor was always able to make do with what he had.

Despite it being late at night, you grabbed your laptop (a very rare, not VoxTech one) to work on some paperwork. You'd promised your boss to get these spreadsheets done, and you weren't one to shirk on your promises. Yawning again, you tuned your old-fashioned radio before settling down with your laptop. The radio had been a gift from Alastor. Many late nights had been spent listening to his broadcasts. They'd always been a comfort, even before you'd signed a contract with him.

Some light jazz filtered through the static, one of your favorite songs. Alastor knew you were listening. Smiling lightly, you started typing away.

The music was occasionally interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream or a sharp whimper. Your smile never left, humming along while Alastor had his fun. Part of you was vaguely aware that the radio show was now being broadcast all throughout Hell, that you didn't even need the radio, but you liked it, so it stayed on.

The spreadsheets were simple enough. With the radio in the background, you were able to focus just enough that the job came naturally. In the back of your mind, you started going over the next day’s schedule.

You'd ended up zoning out while you typed, not even noticing how the radio switched to static and then turned off by itself.

A single knock preceded Alastor's entrance, enough to break you from your thoughts. You were quick to notice the faint blood splatter on the sole of Alastor’s shoes, the only evidence of his previous activities.

“My dear, you know how I abhor those vile machines,” Alastor reprimanded, walking and starting to subconsciously organize your room. A chair was pushed in, a painting adjusted so it was even, the bottom drawer of your dresser lightly closed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “I need it to do my job, Al. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a piece of electronic equipment that's not created by VoxTech?”

“All the more reason to get rid of it.” Alastor walked over to the window and stared out at it. He was a little lost in thought himself, it would seem.

Typing a line, you said, “I liked your broadcast.”

“I'm glad.”

He was quiet. Something was wrong. Your grin died down, pushing your laptop to the side. Alastor’s smile was still there, but dimmer. Sadder.

“Al? You okay?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, dearest,” Alastor replied, a slight edge in his voice.

You wanted to push. To get him to talk to you. But you knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, he'd just get upset or shut down more.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if we'd met while we were alive,” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, obviously that would've been impossible in the first place, considering I wasn't even born when you died, but I just wonder about it.”

“What a ridiculous thing to wonder about!” Alastor laughed a little. “As you said, it would have been impossible. And why think about being alive when we have all of death to enjoy?” His tone lightened a bit. “There is so much entertainment to be had! Life was quite dull, comparably.”

You wondered for a moment, trying to figure out where to lead the conversation. “Where did you live, when you were alive? You already know where I lived when I was alive, it's only fair I know where you lived.”

Alastor’s grin softened a bit, still sad, but with a hint of happiness in there. Nostalgia, if you had to guess. “New Orleans, Louisiana. I lived there with my mother. I had a delightful job as a radio host.”

“You're still a radio host,” you teased playfully. “What was it like, back then?”

“Ah, it was… entertaining.” He didn't say anything more, lost in thought as he leaned on his cane. You were vaguely aware that you were the only person who ever saw him like this. Alastor wore his smile like armor, guarding himself with a nonchalant facade, but very rarely, behind closed doors, the guard would fall, just for a little while.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask another question, Alastor spoke, “You seem quite tired, my dear. Maybe it is time we part ways for the evening.”

Pressing your lips together, you knew he was right. You really should be getting to bed, but you were worried about Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this before, so it was impossible to guess what he'd do once he was alone.

“You really should learn to hide your emotions better.” Alastor turned suddenly, chucking to himself. “There is nothing to worry about, darling. I am perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, you say that, but for some reason I don't believe you.” Stifling a yawn, you gave Alastor a look.

“Now, now, don't be like that.” Alastor came and sat on the edge of the bed, using his magic to set the laptop on top of the dresser. “What can I do to convince you to sleep?”

Leaning back, you thought for a moment. When the idea hit you, your face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but you swallowed the anxiety. He did ask, after all.

“Sing to me?”

Alastor laughed, causing you to glare. “Again with the ridiculous ideas!” When your face fell subconsciously, Alastor hesitated.

When he didn't say anything, you accepted the fact that it was a ridiculous request. Assuming he'd leave the room on his own accord, you used your magic to turn out the lights as you slid under the covers of your bed. You never did get all those spreadsheets done like you'd wanted.

“Parlez-moi d’amour.”

Alastor’s slightly-static-filled voice was quiet. His eyes faintly glowed in the dark and you watched him with wide eyes.

“Redites-moi des choses tendres.”

Smiling softly, you sank into the bed, closing your eyes and allowing Alastor’s comforting voice to wash over you.

“Votre beau discours /

“Mon cœur n'est pas las de l'entendre /

“Pourvu que toujours /

“Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes /

“Je vous aime.”

((The song))

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #plz don't come after me for the french #I just copy/pasted off google T-T #rhys-writes #alastor x reader queerplatonic

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cannibaled · 6 months

Text

wicked game

to be honest, i just knew i wanted to finally write something with felix. so i just started writing and this is what happened so, hopefully you like ! 🥹 —

☆ warnings: none, slight nsfw — just making out, ass and thigh grabbing, hickeys

☆ premise: jealousy.

being felix catton's girlfriend was most comparable to riding a rollercoaster blindfolded.

your dynamic was interesting and unique, and everchanging. at times, he was the wolf, mouth watering and snarling as he cornered you, his prey. a bunny. vulnerable and stripped helpless with nowhere to go. at times, you would be the wolf, but instead of hunger compelling all of your senses, it was instead jealousy. what made this dynamic worse, arguably, was that he was unaware. you would be upset, or even angered after a girl practically threw herself at him. he was a natural flirt, but would react kindly but withdrawn. he would stare at you with his big, brown, puppy dog eyes when you were frustrated and prepared to speak, but nothing ever came out. instead, you would brush messy chocolate curls from his freckled forehead and press a rouge kiss to his tanned skin, the red painting him beautifully. then, that starved wolf would suddenly morph into the sweetest little dog you've ever seen. prancing up happily and licking slobbery kisses into its supposed prey.

you knew you couldn't keep things bubbled forever. considering he was popular and you often attended parties together, it grew difficult. it started to become so stressful that even farleigh or venetia couldn't offer advice any longer. farleigh spoke his mind, as usual, telling you to just suck it up and talk to felix, but part of you felt like you would burden him.

alcohol burned your throat, fiery eyes watching the scene before you. he was practically surrounded by women, a swarm of a horny, desperate ocean attacking his person in waves. you began to think. was he really all that unaware?

you briskly looked away when his bright hazelnut eyes met yours, his cute, gap-toothed smile making your heart singe. as safely and quickly as possible, you stumbled off, pushing through hot, sweaty bodies towards the bathroom. surprisingly, there was no line - save for one person, who was able to get in as soon as you arrived. leaning against the vibrating, booming walls of the hallway, you huffed softly. you should be able to talk to him about anything. truth be told, he was your best friend, and, hell; to a certain extent, you could talk to him about anything. but it was difficult for you to admit you were jealous. that, you couldn't understand why. maybe it was because it would be something affecting his social life. were you afraid of sabotaging that?

the sound of a toilet flushing and the shrill squeak of the door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you rushed into the bathroom. ignoring how your shoulder grazed the previous user's, you locked the door after yourself and did your business. scrubbing at your hands until your skin was raw, you avoided looking at yourself in the mirror. you knew you probably looked a mess, and, frankly, you didn't need to see such a sight right now. twisting the lock on the door, you pulled it open, only to be met with large, warm hands on your shoulders. you cried in confusion as you were pushed back into the bathroom once more, the door slamming shut and clicking locked.

felix stood before you, a red cowboy hat hanging lazily from his head. you two stared at each other for a minute until his lips stretched into that cute, toothy smile of his.

"so this is where you were," he drawled lamely, his accent soft.

"you had to have known, considering you were waiting for me."

he clicked his tongue and stepped towards you, and you unconciously stepped back, until your lower back made contact with the hard, cold porcelain sink. his fingers grazed your sides, and he lifted you easily onto the sink, long digits playing dangerously with the hem of your short dress. your noses brushed one another, and despite your annoyance, you wrapped your arms around his neck. there he went again, cornering you. not only cornering you, but he was sure to get a bite. it was difficult for you to stay upset when he was in an affectionate state like this.

"you seemed upset." he mumbled softly. his breath smelled of alcohol and mint - which you assumed was from the gum he carried around. you remember asking him about that once, in which he just grinned and held up his pack of smokes. cotton mouth, you recalled.

"yeah, well." you responded avoidantly, hooking your legs around his hips and yanking his body closer to yours. he was warm, skin damp with sweat and hot to the touch. you knew it was from dancing. "you seemed quite busy hanging out with your groupies there."

felix's eyebrows raised in surprise, his hands gently squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs. "you're jealous? love, you know they're just friends."

"c'mon, felix. you know they want you." you whined, and you could tell he was biting back a chuckle.

"well, that's too bad." god. you hated when he talked like that. coolly, and without a care in the world. he was always good at defusing situations when his temper wasn't present. maybe he knew just how likable he was.

"i just don't like that you let them hang on you like that. follow you like a bunch of lost puppies. they think they have a chance because of shit like that. i can't stand it. i want to be able to spend time with my boyfriend at parties he brings me to."

he was silent, letting you vent your frustrations. his half-lidded gaze met yours, long lashes fluttering as he searched your eyes. you assumed he was watching for tears, so he could pounce onto the opportunity of comforting you and wiping them, or kissing them away. he was sweet like that.

"i admit, i know they flirt or whatever. and maybe i flirt back. sometimes. but, i belong to you. they'll never be my (Y/N)." you weren't satisfied with his answer, your eyes narrowing. and he knew you were still angrier, if not more than before. but, then, he pressed his soft lips to yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. you could taste the nicotine and beer on him, and although you wanted to yank his hair in retaliation for his stupid fucking excuses, you kissed back.

it was heated, clumsy, passionate. his teeth grazed your flesh, allowing blood to seep through the wounds he inflicted. his tongue swept it away before tasting you properly, the sweet tase of iron clouding your senses. when he pulled away, you assumed he was finished - instead, he pressed feverish kisses along your neck, yanking your smaller frame into his with possession. "brand me," he breathed against you, and just when your mouth was about to part and your eyes flutter, they opened wide in confusion. "huh?" you gasped when he grazed a sweet spot in your neck with his teeth before pulling away, his pink lips darkened with small traces of your blood and swollen. "brand me." he repeated, slipping his hands under your skirt. he didn't dare touch the warm desperation between your legs, instead pressing his fingers into a bruising grip on your upper thighs and ass. "show them who i belong to, darling." you swallowed, manicured nails grazing the nape of his neck.

the thought of it alone was exciting. they knew already he was yours, to an extent, but once they saw him bruised up and pretty with marks caused by you, you knew that'd be the end of it. because, while felix catton was known around oxford for hookups, it was rare for him to allow his fleeting girlfriends the pleasure of giving him hickeys. it was always the other way around, him marking them up with lovebites and bruises on their thighs. for however long he pleased, they belonged to him. never him, to them. but now, he was yours.

so, you did just as he requested - because how could you deny him when he was nearly begging you? finally gripping his curls, you latched your lips onto his neck as if you were starved. he threw his head back to allow you more space and access to your canvas, and you happily painted him red and blue. deep, shaky groans reached your ears, rewarding you for your work. he was always so pretty. his moans and gasps were never an exception when it came to beauty. sex and intimacy with felix was like appreciating art, because he often looked like a painting. no matter where, or what time of day. his muscles would flex, his skin glowing warm and his lips parted. if you had the skills, you would properly copy him onto a canvas or piece of paper and officially, truly, make him your muse. you knew that there was no way physical art would do his beauty justice, though.

you stopped when your lips began to feel sore, instead sinking your teeth into his skin for one final gift.

"fuck," he all but whimpered. and though his voice was deep and he was still bigger than you, you knew were now the wolf. he was the putty in your hands now, bending and softening from a simple weakness.

you pulled away and admired your work, slipping your hands from his head, to his neck, and then, finally, his cheeks. your thumbs brushed along his flushed skin, and when he opened his eyes, you saw nothing but love. his pupils were dilated and his eyes sparkly, and if you didn't feel so dizzy with affection for felix, you would have cried. you placed one last kiss to his pretty lips, and he slipped his fingers from under your dress to cradle your back.

your kiss was cut short with an angry bang on the door, and you jumped away from your boyfriend, smacking his broad shoulder when he laughed.

"guess we kept 'em waiting." he teased cheerfully, gripping your thighs to help you off of the sink.

"okay, ladies first."

"you suck, lix."

"rather," he corrected, carefully guiding you towards the bathroom door with a hand on your back. "if we can make it out of here and to my room, it'll be you instead."

before you could shriek at him out of embarrassment, he opened the door for you and delivered a playful smack to your bottom, paying no mind to the annoyed stranger that stared at him in disgust as they walked past.

#felix catton x reader #felix x reader #felix catton #farleigh #farleigh start #saltburn #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #oliver quick #barry keoghan #oliver quick x reader #oliver x reader

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months

Text

the black alley. l Joel Miller

Summary: you didn't expect to see him there

Warnings: +18 smut, angst, swearing, a lot of anger, mention of Sarah, unprotected sex (don't do that), fingering, possesive Joel

A/N: I'll just leave it here. scribbles.

You knew you were in trouble the moment he walked into the place. You recognized him easily, after all, he hadn't changed that much. Maybe there were a few more gray hairs on his temple, maybe he seemed more tired, but he was still the same guy.

One or maybe two years? You weren't sure how much time had passed since your last meeting. Although maybe you shouldn't count this time, after all, you didn't part on very friendly terms.

You decided to evacuate this place before he realized that you were together under one roof. You put on your jacket, finished your coffee and, trying not to be conspicuous, got up from the table.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” Maria walked over to you quickly, taking a plate and a cup. "Maybe you'd like some dessert? I have a great apple pie."

"Maybe next time, thanks." you replied, smiling, "I think I'll go to bed now."

"It's good that you came. There's always a place for you here, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, thank you."

You looked around uncertainly and, seeing him nowhere, breathed a sigh of relief and then headed towards the exit. The place was packed that evening and you could have gotten out unnoticed, but not in this case. Not if the person hunting you was Joel Miller.

When someone grabbed your arm tightly, you knew you were lost.

"You have quite a nerve showing up here."

It was like a punch. Long after you parted ways, you heard his low voice in your head. It was driving you crazy.

"Hi, Joel." you replied, smiling weakly, "What a surprise!"

"What a surprise." he repeated after you.

His dark eyes looked at you as if to make sure you weren't a ghost. You saw that little wrinkle between his eyebrows, you didn't want to know what was going on in his head at that moment.

"Can you let me go?" you spoke first, "It hurts."

He unclenched his hand, but his face didn't change expression. God! You missed him so much. Only in your dreams did his face come back to you, but you were too afraid to meet him in reality. Now everything has changed.

"How long have you been in Jackson?" he asked, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets.

"I arrived in the morning." you replied, "You look good, Joel."

"Mhm." he muttered, nodding his head, probably not all the words reached him. "Did you come with someone?"

"I'm alone. It's better this way."

He nodded again.

It irritated you. You would rather have him scream and blurt out everything you expected to hear. During all this time, you had already created several scenarios of your meeting in your head, and almost each of them involved a gigantic quarrel full of regrets. But he just looked at you.

"Do you have a place to stay overnight?" he asked finally.

"Yes. Marie gave me a room nearby."

"I'll walk you back."

"You don't have to."

But his hand was already on your back as he led you out of the premises and into the cool evening air. It was much quieter outside and there were definitely no people there.

You had walked a dozen or so steps when he spoke again.

"I thought you were dead."

"Maybe that would be better for you." you replied without thinking, "Maybe I'm like cockroaches?"

"Maybe."

You turned into an alley between buildings where it was really dark. It was what you could expect.

A strong hand tightened on your shoulder again and soon your back hit the wall of the building.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Joel growled, glaring at you with fury. “I came back and you were gone! Your stuff is gone. No word on where you are or what happened!”

"I left you a note." you replied, but your words were strangely quiet.

"A note?!" Joel scoffed, "Don't be silly! I thought I probably deserved more than a few words, don't you think?"

"Yes! You deserved more, but I couldn't give it to you, Joel!" you finally faced this unequal fight "I had to do it! You won't understand it."

"Of course! I was a fucking idiot."

Joel pulled away from you and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, maybe you can finally explain it to me, huh? Maybe after all this time, I'll be able to understand you?"

"It doesn't make sense, Joel. Look, it's over now, okay? We met, fine, but now we're all going our separate ways. Again."

He was like an animal. His hand cupped your face, fingers digging into your cheek, and you gasped as he pressed you against the wall.

"It's not fucking over!" he croaked, "Almost two years! Do you get that? I've buried you so many times. I deserve some kind of answer before you pack your ass and run away again!"

Everything came back to him in an instant as soon as his gaze landed on your figure. He would recognize you anywhere. In Boston, you were the closest person to him, and you just vanished into thin air.

He came home that day and at first your absence didn't alarm him. Only a piece of paper lying on the table caught his attention. A few words - "Sorry, I had to. One day you will understand. Bye." Joel quickly checked the bedroom dresser and the bathroom. You took only the most necessary things and disappeared like a stone into water. He was pissed at you like never before.

The days turned into weeks, and they turned into months, and you kept returning to his head, stabbing him in the heart each time.

He didn't know if he wished you were dead or if he was even happy to see you right in front of him. His emotions were completely bursting him from the inside.

You took his hand away from your face.

"Then leave me in this grave! What do you want to hear? What will satisfy you, Joel? I'll tell you what you want!"

"I want the fucking truth!"

"I left because I protected you! All this... WE went too far."

You remembered that one evening perfectly. His naked, warm body lay next to you. He hugged you from behind, burying his face in your neck, your hands tightly intertwined. He thought you were asleep when he softly murmured in your ear, "I think I might love you...".

But you weren't sleeping. And you didn't sleep for a minute that night. You didn't name what happened between you. Just two people trying to survive the situation they found themselves in. You were partners, and behind the apartment door you gave each other a semblance of normality.

Love wasn't safe. Love meant reckless behavior and too much attachment, and therefore - the pain of loss. You didn't want to experience this and you didn't want it to happen to Joel.

"Bullshit!" he hissed.

"We made a mistake! We were too close!" you finally stood up for yourself, your voice was strong as you blurted out everything that had been inside you for so long. "I couldn't let you go through the same thing again!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"I know how you suffered after losing Sarah! I didn't want you to..."

"How dare you hide behind her back?!" Joel roared in fury, pointing his finger at you. “She didn't leave me! They took her away, she had no choice! Unlike you! Fucking coward!”

"Yes! I'm a coward! Because I loved you, idiot! And that scared me more and more!"

He looked at you angrily. His eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw was clenched. You both breathed deeply, feeling all the uncomfortable emotions coursing through your veins. Even though many words were exchanged between you, you weren't happy with this result.

Eventually you came to the conclusion that it was pointless. Jackson was pointless. You shouldn't have come to town at all. Nothing good could happen to you.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." you said, breaking the menacing silence between you. “You won't have to look at me anymore.”

"Nothing new. Y/N, Master of Running-From-Problems." Joel sneered.

"Yeah, whatever you want." resignation was audible in your voice, you slowly started to back away, thinking about getting back to your room. "I hope you find someone who will be a better person than me. You deserve it."

"Maybe, but I want you."

You didn't even have a second to react. His warm large hands cupped your face and your lips collided in a hard kiss. In an instant you broke into a thousand pieces. His tongue slipped between your lips and drew a soft moan from you. Once again you felt a solid wall behind you, but it saved you from falling. His strong body pressed against yours and his thigh slipped between your legs.

You clearly felt the bulge in his jeans, which showed that this wasn't going to end well for you. You could handle it. You wanted to feel him inside you again too much to worry about the consequences at that moment.

“Joel…” you moaned as his lips moved down to your neck, kissing and biting gently, “Joel, please…”

One of his hands squeezed your breast tightly. If Joel Miller set out to destroy you, he was on the right track.

You owe him no debt. Your hand slid between your bodies and touched his bulge, now really hard. The lips came together again.

"Tell me you want me." he murmured, barely removing his lips from you, “Tell me.”

"More than life. I want you, Joel." you gasped.

That was enough. Without hesitation, he unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your buttocks along with your panties. God! You were grateful for the cloudy night and the dark as hell alley. Joel turned you to face the wall, sliding his hand between your thighs. You sucked in a breath as fingers ran over your clit.

"So wet already?" his voice in your ear was as low and sultry as you remembered it, and now it turned you on even more.

He slid two fingers inside you, and your nails almost dug into the side of the building. You were trapped between him and that fucking wall as his fingers moved inside you so shamelessly. And suddenly they just disappeared.

You tried turning your head slightly and saw Joel unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his hard cock. The fingers that were inside you a moment ago slid up his shaft, leaving a mixture of your juices and his precum on it.

You didn't talk. One look from him was enough for you and you knew exactly what he wanted. You knew him so well it was like you lived under his skin.

He entered you from behind in one smooth and powerful movement, and your breath stopped in your lungs. This sudden feeling stopped you both for a moment. You still fit together perfectly, in every way.

His hands on your hips tightened and didn't let go even as Joel began to move slowly.

Another dirty moan escaped your throat.

"Shhh, baby. We don't want anyone to hear us, do we?"

You nodded, but how could you be quiet as he pounded into you harder and faster. All those days without you, all the anger and frustration, was released in the way Joel fucked you and... It was amazing.

You felt him right behind you. Quick breathing right next to your ear. You started clenching around him tighter and tighter. So many days without him and it only took you a moment to cum.

"Come on, baby. I feel you." groaned Joel. “Give it to me. I'm right behind you.”

It was like a lightning strike. The air left your lungs and your muscles tensed in a pleasant shiver. Joel picked up the pace and after a while he pulled out and you felt him spill onto your buttocks.

You both stood still, gasping for breath.

"Wait."

He slipped on his pants and took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped your bottom with it. He helped you get dressed because your hands and legs were still shaking a little.

"It was unexpected." you said hesitantly, "But nice."

"Yeah. Pretty nice." Joel replied, looking at you carefully.

"Just like the good old days."

"Yeah."

You began to hear the sounds of people talking as they left the bar and headed home. Soon someone could be passing through your hideout. Joel seemed to think the same thing.

“Listen, Y/N.” he started, walking closer to you. “Stay. If not for me, then for your own peace of mind. Jackson is a safe place. I'd rather know you're safe.”

"I'll consider it." you replied, smiling slightly. “I might like this place.”

"For sure. What happened..."

"I missed you, Joel." you blurted out without thinking, "I missed you from the first step out the door. Every day I wanted to come back, but I was more and more afraid. I was sure you wouldn't want me back."

"I was mad at you, but it didn't change anything. I still love you, Y/N. And now... It's like we got a second chance. That's rare."

"So I guess we're lucky."

"Fucking lucky bastards."

You laughed softly and Joel smiled. It was his favorite music.

"Stay."

"I will."

And you stayed. Because despite everything, it was easier to go through this mess together than to try to survive alone.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #pedro pascal

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devildom-moss · 7 months

Note

I really love your series on Mc giving everyone a kiss on the cheek. Can I ask for the reverse? Where they give a kiss on the cheek or something similar (a gift, perhaps?) for their Mc?

Okay, so this ask is going to take me a while, so I'm going to split it up. I hope you don't mind. I didn't quite go with the same PDA premise for this one - hope that's okay. So, what I did was I thought about who would be more likely to give a kiss on the cheek, a gift, or both. So part 1 of this request will be both. I hope you like it if you see this (sorry it took me so long to get to this, by the way).

Signs of Affection (kiss + gift)

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Leviathan x gn!MC) (Diavolo x gn!MC) (Barbatos x gn!MC) (Simeon x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +4,500

Lucifer

It was starting to get late when your D.D.D. buzzed. Lucifer was on an extended business trip with Diavolo and had taken to sending you secret good-night texts before he went to bed. Apparently, he didn’t think he could go five days without contacting you. He had even called on the third day just to hear your voice. With an affectionate smile, you checked your D.D.D. However, this message wasn’t what you were expecting.

Lucifer: Please go to my office.

You were confused – solely because you expected his office to be empty. Lucifer would be gone until tomorrow morning. Perhaps he had something valuable teleported there? Whatever it was, if Lucifer was willing to say “please,” you figured it was important. Your heart jumped from your chest when you walked into the room and saw Lucifer sitting back in a chair with one leg crossed over the other.

“There you are.” He looked at you seductively, waiting for you to get closer so he could pounce. “Come in.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.” You made no attempt to hide your smile. It was nice to see him earlier than expected, but it made you wonder. “So, did things go really well or was it a disaster – for you to be back early, that is?”

“Let’s say it went well.” Lucifer smirked, unwilling to admit that he had all but begged Diavolo to allow him to return home early. If Diavolo hadn’t felt bad for Lucifer being ogled at throughout the trip – not to mention being hit on during three separate occasions by different nobles and a rather forward marriage proposal, he might have insisted that Lucifer stayed the extra half a day. Diavolo had noticed that Lucifer was uncomfortable the second he was away from polite company, and he had only seen Lucifer genuinely smile when he was on his phone and on the first morning when they were out window shopping before their meeting. So, Lucifer took an earlier train back, leaving Barbatos and Diavolo alone for one more night of mingling. By the time he got back, Lucifer was exhausted – although not so exhausted that he couldn’t carve out some time for his beloved human. “Sit, have a drink with me.”

You took the seat next to him and he handed you a chilled glass of Demonus he had already poured in anticipation of your arrival. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Not in the slightest – although it might have gone better if you were with me.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“Nothing important. Now,” Lucifer started, uncrossing his legs and leaning closer to you, “did you miss me?”

“It wasn’t even five days, Lucifer.” You rolled your eyes. “I won’t die of loneliness.”

“Oh? I thought I was supposed to be the cruel one.” Lucifer leaned down and grabbed the leg of your chair, pulling you closer – and, quite ungracefully, causing a bump in the rug. You were left between his legs, and Lucifer used his newly obtained proximity to run his hand up your thigh. “I missed you terribly. I was dying of loneliness.”

“How many drinks did you have before I arrived?” you sighed.

“This is the first one, I’m afraid.” Lucifer swirled the Demonus in his glass before setting it down. Only then did you notice the small box sitting behind the bottle on the table. His eyes followed yours, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Curious?”

“Souvenir from your trip?”

“Almost.” Lucifer scooped up the box before returning his gaze to you. He stared, expectant and almost sad. “Just tell me you missed me – even if you’re lying.”

“I waited up for your texts every night. Of course I missed you.” You caressed his cheek, and teased, “you soft, baby boy.”

“Confession accepted. Close your eyes,” Lucifer instructed. You agreed, but not without rolling them once more. You heard him open the box and felt him take your hand before slipping something onto your wrist. Still, you kept your eyes shut – even as he turned your hand over and kissed your wrist – until he gave you the signal. He turned your hand back around, continuing to hold it, and said, “okay. You can open them.”

It was a bracelet with round, black crystal beads. When the light hit them at the right angle, you could see flashes of red. It kind of reminded you of “. . . your eyes.”

“What?” Lucifer asked.

“It reminds me of your eyes,” you admitted, looking between the stones and his eyes. “They’re both beautiful.”

Lucifer’s cheeks grew pink, and he cleared his throat before mentioning, “it’s made of Hell-Sheen Obsidian. It’s a rare stone that can only be harvested from the lava that forms within a volcano near the location of our business trip. The volcano has been dormant for centuries, and genuine pieces are hard to come by. They offer the wearer strong protection. I want you to wear it when I’m not around to watch over you.”

It hadn’t escaped you that Lucifer had yet to release your hand, so you brought his knuckles to your lips. The soft kiss only made Lucifer’s blush deepen. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

“Thank you, my love.” Lucifer leaned in and kissed your cheek affectionately. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, the reds of his irises glimmering in the dim light. “What do you say we take advantage of my early return, and you spend the rest of the night with me?”

Leviathan

There was an off-beat knock at your door – like someone had hesitated to commit to the knock. The awkward noise was followed by an equally uncomfortable, “Uhm, MC? Are you there?”

“Levi?” you asked, sitting up in your bed. It was already well past dinner, and you had laid down with your D.D.D., so you weren’t expecting someone to interrupt your mindless, pre-sleep scrolling. “Gimme a sec.”

You got out of bed to unlock the door and found Levi standing anxiously in the hallway, clutching something close to his chest. Hoping to ease some of his tension, you invited him into your room. He followed with the nervous energy of someone who was doing something he probably shouldn’t.

With the door shut, you questioned him, “Are you okay?”

“I – yeah. Here.” Levi thrust the item he was holding in your direction. It was a box, wrapped in Azuki-tan paper – no doubt something that Levi had wrapped himself.

“What’s this for?” You took the package from his hands, politely ignoring the small yelp he made when your fingers grazed his.

“For, um – to thank you, you know, for helping me cram before the exam the other day.” Levi’s cheeks began to flush, but he continued, rushing his words as he tried to explain. “You didn’t have to do that, but because of you, I passed, and I don’t have to take extra classes over the weekend, which means I can watch Chocolate Heartbreak stream their mini concert live tomorrow. And I know I thanked you at the time, but I wanted to thank you again because I’m really happy that you decided to help a gross otaku like me – even though you probably didn’t have any fun because who has fun studying with a shut in? But anyway, thank you.”

“Oh, Levi, baby, breathe.” He hadn’t taken a single breath during that last part. You put your hand on his head and rubbed him gently, hoping to calm him down. While he did take a few slow, steady breaths, his heart only raced, and his cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink. “Thank you for the present, really, but I had a good time studying with you. I was happy to help. And you aren’t gross, either.”

Levi covered his face with his hands and murmured, “thank you.”

You chuckled at his cuteness. “Can I open it now?”

Instead of words, Levi simply nodded. You carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a charm with chibi drawings of the members of Chocolate Heartbreak, a matching sticker, and a brown tin with a red broken heart and each of the members in cute poses around the sides of the tin. Inside was an assortment of themed candies and cookies. Levi peeked through his fingers to watch your reaction. When you smiled, he found the courage to speak again.

“Chocolate Heartbreak did a collab with Madam Devian’s and a local artist to put out a themed snack tin to promote their mini concert. I ordered a few, but I made sure to buy one specifically for you.” Levi stared at your hands, holding the tin. “Well, uhm, I was thinking maybe we could eat them together while we watch the concert live tomorrow – if you want to!”

“Of course! I’d love to.” You smiled at him.

Levi looked up, his mouth agape as if he wasn’t expecting you to accept so enthusiastically. His mouth opened and closed, as if to speak, before he managed to mumble something out. “. . . you.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked, getting slightly closer. Levi rubbed his arm nervously.

“I love you!” he blurted out. Levi quickly leaned in to kiss your cheek before attempting to flee. However, you caught his arm before he could make his escape, and pulled him in, kissing his lips sweetly – and, for the sake of his heart, briefly.

“I love you, too. Now, I’ll see you tomorrow to watch the concert. Goodnight, Levi.” You grinned and let him go, but not without teasingly adding, “unless you want to spend the night, that is.”

“N-not at this time! Thank you. Good night!” Levi was a ball of giddiness and nerves as he slithered out of your grasp and ran away down the hall. How in the Devildom was he going to get to sleep now?

Diavolo

It was hard to know exactly what to expect when Diavolo called you to the castle – with instructions to head directly to his room once you arrived. Usually, he would joke around or send some kind of flirty sticker to indicate that this was a purely social call. He had just returned from a business trip, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had heard something troubling on his trip – or maybe someone had spread some unsavory rumors that reached him upon his return. Everyone had been well behaved enough, though. Still, if Diavolo was in a bad mood, you weren’t particularly thrilled to have to deal with it, but you had already agreed to meet with him. Besides, Diavolo wasn’t usually scary, and no matter how bad his mood was, he had never been mean to you before – indifferent, perhaps, but not actively cruel.

Either way, you readied yourself for needing to verbally defend the brothers or yourself as you tapped at his door. To your relief, the “enter” from the other side of the door didn’t sound too upset.

Diavolo had been sitting on his sofa, staring at a black box on his coffee table. He immediately perked up, standing to his feet, when he realized the knock had come from you. A smile grew on his face as he exclaimed, “You’re early.”

“I was in town – not too far from the castle. Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all,” Diavolo laughed. “I’d much prefer to see you than anyone else – just don’t tell Barbatos.”

Diavolo brought his finger to his lips. You laughed, letting the tension in your body go. Based on his reception of you, it was clear that you hadn’t been called for something too grave. “So, I take it I’m not in trouble today?”

Once again, Diavolo laughed. He looked down, and when his eyes returned to you, they had a mischievous glint – something more boyishly charming than befitting royalty. In a smooth, tempting tone, he teased, “Why, did you do something bad, MC? Should I punish you?

“Only if I get to punish you the next time that you’re bad,” you teased back with a smirk. Diavolo’s eyes widened, and he felt his cheeks burn. Pleased that you had successfully flustered the prince, you answered him honestly, “I’m kidding. I didn’t do anything bad, but your message seemed so serious. I was racking my brain trying to figure out if I had done something wrong while you were away.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I was exhausted when I sent that message,” Diavolo admitted, ashamed that he had made you worry. “The only reason I have any energy at all is because I was eager to see you. I’ll be sure to add more hearts to my messages the next time I want to see you.”

“Please don’t. I might mistake your texts for Asmo’s,” you joked. “I’ll just try not to assume your mood based on one text next time. Anyway, why did you call me over if you’re so exhausted?”

Diavolo motioned towards the box on the table, “For this.”

“Hm?” You looked between him and the box. “The box you were trying to burn holes into with your eyes when I walked in? What? Is someone trying to court you again?”

“Goodness no. I’ve been pleasantly lacking in suitors recently. There is this one suitor, though – nearly as powerful as they are cute.”

“Solomon’s trying to seduce you now? I know he wants a pact with you but to resort to going about it by getting you in bed – how devious.” You couldn’t hide your smile as you feigned disappointment.

“Not the teacher,” Diavolo chuckled. He grabbed the box and presented it to you. “I’m talking about his favorite ‘adorable apprentice.’ I’ve gotten a present for them.”

You wanted to continue your game, feigning surprise, but your heart had melted far too much for you to keep up the act. With heart-wrenching sincerity, you responded, “thank you. Can I?”

“Of course. Please, go ahead.” Diavolo watched on as you lifted the box lid to reveal a lovely silk tie with one of your favorite flowers printed on it. Even the tie color and the print color were ones you preferred. Mephisto would have nothing on your tie game now – not that he ever did. “I missed you while I was away. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time. When we had the opportunity to tour the city, I took that time searching for a token of my affection.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Diavolo. I feel like you’re going to spoil me.”

“Nonsense! A treasure like you cannot be spoiled.” Diavolo pulled you in close, leaned in until his breath was tickling your ear, and whispered, “You know, you don’t simply have to wear this tie. Perhaps we can come up with a more creative use for it?”

Diavolo kissed your cheek, lingering just long enough to savor the warmth of your skin.

Barbatos

You had been so exhausted as of late, and the combination of late nights and the day-to-day stress that the brothers et al. caused you had taken its toll. All you wanted was a few moments of peace and quiet for yourself. So, you snuck off to school early and hid out in the RAD council room. It was far too early for anyone to be in there. In fact, the only people you saw on campus were Serun, and a few studious demons on their way to the library – one of which was definitely from one of your classes – perhaps Seductive Speechcraft – because they offered you a familiar wave as you passed in the hall. In the comfortable silence, you picked a seat and tucked yourself into a dim-lit corner.

With one of your textbooks laid out in front of you, you had fully intended to spend the next hour or so reading and studying without any interruption. However, your sleep deprivation and the heaviness of your eyelids had their own demands.

By the time Barbatos wandered into the student council, you had been asleep for well over a half an hour. He was pleased that you weren’t awake to see him jump slightly at the discovery of your body, slumped over the table. No one was supposed to be in there – and certainly not that early. All the lights weren’t even on yet.

Barbatos quickly recognized that you had fallen asleep – in Belphegor’s chair, no less. Although it was a suitable place for you to nap, Barbatos felt a tinge of jealousy, almost wishing he spent less time standing at Diavolo’s side and had his own designated seat that you could have fallen asleep in. He approached you cautiously, hoping to delay waking you up. No one – save for Barbatos himself and your unreliable narrator – would know whether he was able to snap a picture of your sleeping face before the affection swelling in his chest overcame him. Barbatos leaned down to kiss your cheek: the one that wasn’t adorably squished against your arm.

Your brows furrowed as the sensation pulled you out of sleep’s grasp. You groaned before opening your eyes. Barbatos had placed a homemade pastry in a bag, tied up with some spare mint-colored ribbon, in front of you before kissing you. So, as your eyes adjusted, the pastry was the first thing you saw, but a soft chuckle was the first thing you heard.

“Good morning, MC.”

“Barbatos? Did you just kiss me or was that a dream?” Your words were breathy as you tried to wake yourself up from an accidental nap. You straightened your spine and rolled your shoulders back.

“Shall I kiss you now, and you can judge for yourself?”

You scoffed. “You definitely kissed me, and now you’re trying to get a second one, aren’t you?”

“Perceptive as ever,” Barbatos mused. However, your tired face was harder to read than usual, and Barbatos became cautiously somber. “My apologies. In truth, you looked so cute that I found myself unable to resist, so I kissed your cheek to wake you up. Was I too presumptuous?”

If it had been some random demon you didn’t adore, perhaps it would have been an issue, but you figured this didn’t particularly bother you. You had done far worse – or, in this case, better – with Barbatos. Still, you didn’t get the opportunity to catch Barbatos in the wrong, and you wanted to mess with him. With feigned hurt, you replied, “You really are a demon – kissing someone in their sleep like that.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” The words fell out of his mouth quickly, and he searched for an appropriate response to remedy his offense. “I truly believed it would be okay, but I was mistaken. Please, pardon me for taking advantage. It won’t happen again.”

“Hm, well, it was a bit creepy,” you smirked, “but I suppose I could forgive you if you’ll let me have this pastry.”

Barbatos slapped his hand to his face and let out an exasperated sigh. “Were you teasing me just now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you managed between a stifled laugh; the sleep had been completely shaken from you as you smiled and added, “You just seemed so flustered. I like that side of you.”

“I have half a mind to lock you up where those brothers can no longer be a negative influence on you,” he mumbled.

“Unfortunately, I arrived in the Devildom like this,” you corrected him.

“Then perhaps I should lock you up simply because I want to keep you for myself,” Barbatos admitted, absentmindedly – still recovering from your antics. He sighed and quickly redirected the conversation. “Anyway, the pastry is yours.”

“Oh, I was joking. You don’t really have to give me your food.”

“I brought it for you.” Barbatos pet your head before slipping his cool, gloved hand down your cheek and under your chin. “I intended to make you smile by bringing you a treat. I didn’t realize it would be as easy as allowing you to tease me.”

“Aww,” your grin widened. “That’s actually really sweet. Thank you!”

“As long as you’re happy.” Barbatos smiled and slowly pulled his hand away. “Now, I have some paperwork to attend to on behalf of the Young Master. You’re welcome to stick around until your first class begins. You can even go back to sleep, and I’ll wake you up if you’d like.”

“I’m alert now, thanks to you. But could you do something else for me?”

“Name it.”

“Could you kiss me again?”

Barbatos chuckled and bent down until he was close enough for his breath to graze your lips. He held your gaze seductively, but instead of kissing your lips as you had hoped, he moved to the side and kissed the cheek that he had been unable to kiss before. His lips lingered.

“Better?” he whispered in your ear. “You really should ensure that you’re sleeping properly. How else can I keep you up all night without worrying about you?”

Simeon

If it had been anyone other than an angel (or, former angel) – well, maybe not even Raphael and Michael – that had asked you to meet them at the edge of a forest, you would – and should – have assumed that you were going to be murdered and promptly disposed of. However, since it was Simeon who asked, you trusted him to not kill you. (Besides, Simeon could certainly think of somewhere more creative and romantic than a forest, right?)

Still, you might as well check. When you arrived and saw Simeon waiting for you, carrying a crossbody bag, you asked, “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“Heavens no,” Simeon laughed, offering you his arm. “Have you started watching those true crime shows like Solomon and Raphael?”

You took Simeon’s arm and followed him into the forest. “Those two started watching true crime? Together?”

“Yes. I can’t say I don’t understand the grisly appeal, and I’m happy that they’re able to bond over something that doesn’t involve food, but it’s a bit much sometimes.”

“To be fair, Solomon’s cooking and true crime are equally gruesome. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s committed accidental murders with his food.”

“I would laugh if I didn’t agree with you,” Simeon admitted.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry.” You brought your free hand up to your forehead with a thunk. “This was supposed to be a date, and we started it by talking about the potential of Solomon committing manslaughter. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Simeon chuckled and put his hand over your arm. He squeezed you gently, reassuringly. “We are on a date in the Devildom. It’s almost suitable, don’t you think?”

“I guess so, but you never told me why you wanted to meet out here. Did you just want a change of scenery?”

“Sort of. There’s a field of flowers nearby. According to a book I borrowed from Barbatos, these particular flowers are at their peak around this time of year, but most people don’t attempt to find the field because the path is apparently cursed.” You looked at Simeon, incredulous and uncertain about whether you wanted an explanation or not. Simeon laughed sweetly in the face of your concern, which eased some of that worry. “A legend claims that the field of flowers was planted by a demon as an act of love for someone they held very dear. Unfortunately, their loved one brought a lover there – only for that lover to dump them the following day. The former lover returned to the field with a new partner soon after.”

“That’s cruel,” you interjected.

“I know. To make it worse, the loved one who had been dumped was so heartbroken that they fell ill and died. The demon who planted the field was enraged by the betrayal of their loved one and burned the field down. However, upon seeing the destroyed field, the demon regretted their actions. It was as if they had burned down the memory of their deceased loved one. They had destroyed something beautiful. The deceased one was buried in the field. For years, the demon tended to the scorched earth until it was healthy enough to replant. They returned to care for the plants daily until they sprouted. To commemorate their loved one and honor the beauty of the field, the demon put a curse on the land so that only those with true love in their hearts could find it. If your love is true, the path will trace the same steps that the demon took each day to tend to the field. If not, the path will bend and twist, and you may never find your way out of the forest.”

“That’s kind of scary,” you admitted. You weren’t particularly worried, but the legend – if true – put you on edge.

“Precisely. After a few people went missing, many demons stopped coming altogether. The rumors changed over time until they overwrote the narrative of the original story. Most demons believe that the forest itself is haunted. They doubted their love.” Simeon looked at you with a soft smile. “I have no such doubts. See?”

Simeon pointed ahead on the path, and you turned to see patches of a flower field begin to sprout up through gaps between the trees. It wasn’t long before a clearing came into view. The moonlight made the blossoms appear to glow. Small white flowers shimmered like stars while blue and purple ones reflected the night sky’s subtle light. It was beautiful.

Just off the path, there was a blanket and a picnic basket set up. You glanced back at Simeon. “Did you –?”

“I had no doubts that I loved you, so I came here and set this up ahead of time.” His arm slipped from yours so he could caress your face. “I just wanted to see you smile.”

“Thank you so, so much. I’m happy you wanted me to see this. I won’t come here with anyone but you.” You gave Simeon the soft smile he had been craving.

Knowing you were all alone, Simeon took the chance to kiss your cheek. Then, he kissed the other side, lingering longer than the first time. Then, he brought his lips to your forehead, keeping them pressed there as if he was afraid to let you go.

“Uhm, Simeon?” you interrupted his kiss.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away! And I forgot –” Simeon pulled away, flustered, and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a box containing a pair of ceramic teacups with the same flowers in the field painted around the edges of the cup and saucer. “I got you a present too! I got them custom made for us. I thought it would be nice that even when the field goes dormant, you’ll still have a reminder.”

Your heart melted and all you could do was carefully wrap your arms around Simeon and bury your smile against his skin. If the legend was indeed true, Simeon understood what it felt like to create something so beautiful and lovely that only a select few deserved to see it.

(kiss version - Mammon, Satan, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Solomon)

(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

A/N: I cannot explain what happened for these to turn out like this, but yeah. I hope you enjoy. Also, I still have so many requests from Halloween left and I feel like I should stop apologizing for taking months to get to them at this point. Dear lord. So sorry I forgot to add a read more tag the first time I posted this. I am out of it.

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vxnuslogy · 2 months

Text

– nuvole bianche.

pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader

premise: scaramouche, or kunikuzushi to you, never dreams. but after that accident on prom night, he's been dreaming more than he liked. he wonders if his past actions were actually enough.

– warnings: angst with slight comfort <3 + slight spoilers for the game "until then"

– author's note: this is what happens after i watch a playthrough of every depressing indie game. art credits to @.inertraccoon on twitter. | ~4.7k words.

“look at you working so hard,” you tease as you sit beside him. “what happened to quitting hm?”

he only rolls his eyes at you and elbows your side. you scoff in offense and shove him back. for a while, the two of you went back and forth elbowing one another until you burst out into a fit of laughter. scaramouche only clicks his tongue, his eyes focusing back on the set of black and white keys in front of him. all the while feeling your lingering stare and the way it made the hairs on his arms stand.

“if you’re going to disturb me then leave. i have no use for distractions.” his voice was stern but you only threw him a smile. your own finger danced on the keys with his in perfect harmony, scaramouche couldn’t help the small smirk that twitched at his lips.

“will you finally tell me the name of your piece?” you ask.

he paused in his movement and just stared in front of him. you continued to play his piece with ease. scaramouche didn’t want to acknowledge how your fingers had memorized every line and curve of his creativity with such precision; he begins to wonder if you’ve taken all of his talents in playing the piano.

“not a chance!” he replied, tone higher than normal.

you let out a sigh and shook your head. scaramouche stares at you with a blank expression, he takes note of the fading light from your eyes and the way your hands slowly drop to your lap. your head turned here and there, taking your surroundings in for some odd reason he didn’t want to figure out.

“you’re acting strange.” he points out and you smile.

“i just remembered how we first met, that's all.”

he lets out a groan and drags a hand down his face. “don’t remind me.”

your laugh ringed out the empty music room as you playfully shove at his shoulder.

“oh come on!” you say, wiping the pretend tears from your eyes. “our first meeting was cute.”

“i was ready to cut off your fingers.”

“like i said, it was cute.”

he looks at you with a bewildered expression. his lips turned into an odd smile and his brow kept twitching in annoyance. “you’re such a pain.”

“don’t lie to me kuni,” you tease. “i know you love me!”

“and for the nth time, don’t call me that!”

you cease your teasing and just sigh. body leaning into him despite his protests. you drum your fingers on your lap as he continues to play the piece he’s so keen to keep a secret despite you helping him create it in the first place. for a moment, you close your eyes and relish in scaramouche’s company. taking deep inhales, catching small whiffs of his perfume and tea he had this morning, then opening your eyes as you exhale.

“another boy went missing today.” you randomly say which made him pause.

“who is it this time?” he shifts closer to you; knees touching as you feel his hand interlace itself with your own. you bury your face further into the crook of his neck. you don’t mention the way his ears flush a cute pink and how his breathing turned shaky.

“it was kazuha today.” you whisper. “how long do you think before another one goes missing?”

he scoffs. you could practically see the frown that tugs at his lips. “don’t know and don’t care.”

“do you really not care?”

you detach yourself from him and look at his eyes. they were such an electric shade of purple, it almost felt illegal to look at them for free.

“why should i?”

“kuni come on.”

he glares at you and you screw your mouth shut.

scaramouche lets out a deep sigh and stood up. he grabbed your arm and started tugging you out of the music room.

“come on,” he didn't bother to look back as he spoke. “we’ll be late.”

“what if i’m the next to disappear?”

“then i’ll look for you.”

you stare at the back of his head with your mouth slightly agape. neither of you mention the way your classmates stared at your hands and the burning of your ears and cheeks.

– –

what a disaster, you thought. what was supposed to be a heartfelt reunion for a son and his mother turned into a bitter one-sided screaming fest. you flinch when the harsh slamming of the door echoed into the now silent kitchen.

“i’ll…” you start, pushing your chair back and giving an empathetic smile to the woman who looked identical to your hot headed friend. “go look for him. please excuse me.”

as you close the sliding doors, you couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. a hand dragging itself down your face as you try to spot the treehouse scaramouche had told you about. you dragged your feet into his old backyard and it wasn’t long before you spotted a tree with a small wooden house, the bark had worn out ladders. taking a deep breath, you climb up.

“kuni, you there?” you call out but no one replied. when your head peeked into the slightly ajar door, you feel your heart sink. there he was, in all his mopey state, knees hugging his chest as his eyes stared blankly at the doll in his limp hand.

“hey..” you quietly approach him. “what was that back there? i thought you two were okay now.”

“i told you this wouldn’t work out.”

you frown at his pessimism. “of course it’s not going to work out if you aren’t even trying to–”

“but i am trying!” he shouts, abruptly standing up from his sitting position. you felt a twinge of concern–fear– when he glared at you with tears pricking his eyes while his hand tightly gripped the doll like a lifeline. “is it my fault she wasn’t there when i needed her the most?! is it my fault that she was slowly spiraling into depression and compromising all her relationships?!”

“kuni come on,” you slowly stand and try to calm him down. “you know i don’t mean it like that.”

“then what did you mean!?” he stomps his way over to one of the desks and slams his hands down. you have no doubt that the adults back in the house heard it with how loud it was.

“i wanted my mother to be there for me when i lost someone important to me.” he murmurs, head hanging low. one hand grips the stray picture frame on the desk and in one violent action, throws it across the room. you flinch at the loud shattering of glass clamored in the rickety old treehouse.

“kuni!”

“you said you understand.”

“what?”

your feet subconsciously stepped back when scaramouche turned to glare at you – eyes cold and cruel. he pressed his lips into a thin line, his eyes following your movement like a hawk.

“you said you understood me, was that also a lie?” his voice cut through the air like a cold knife. he no longer looked like the kunikuzushi you grew up with. the words get stuck in your throat, your mind racing to try and say something–anything.

“but i do understan–”

“then why are you taking her side!?”

“but i’m not taking anyone’s side!” you take a deep breath and rub your temples. “kuni, please, just try to calm down.”

he only clicked his tongue, the sound harsh like the oncoming storm outside.

“where are you going?!” you shout, chasing after him.

“don’t follow me.”

“kuni!”

you try to reach for his hand but the sharp slap echoes in the rain-soaked air. you felt your eyes widen and for a while, you saw a flash of regret and hurt in his eyes as you let your hand drop to your side. he could glare at you all he wanted but you’ll always see through him– at least he hoped you could still recognize him. the way your frown deepened, how you cradled your wrist, and the way your hair slowly hid your eyes– scaramouche was sure you would be the next one to leave him.

“i’m trying my best to understand, kunikuzushi.” you whisper.

how long has it been since you called him by his full name?

“but it’s so hard when all you do is detach yourself when someone tries to get close to you. it’s suffocating y’know?”

“then leave,” he replies, colder than before.

“and what if i actually did?”

scaramouche opened and closed his mouth to reply but no words came out. what would he do if you actually left? would he return to his reclusive self? pushing anyone and everyone away if they tried to get too close? but wasn’t he already doing this right now? what is wrong with him.

“you never tell me anything, kuni, not how you feel nor what's going on,” tears prick your eyes as you try to approach him again. “can’t you see how much this is hurting us? when will you finally let it go? when will you finally move on from the things that have hurt you instead of holding grudges? it’s so painful to see you so stuck in the past.”

“i’m not as forgiving as you.”

“you don’t have to forgive her for anything!”

“you don’t understand.”

“then make me understand! for once kuni, just tell me what you’re feeling instead of leaving me to guess.”

this was going nowhere, he thought. so he did what he does best: runaway and never look back. you call out to him, you even try to catch up to him but the sudden downpour of rain made it hard to make out his figure that slowly disappeared. he ground his teeth together and gripped his hair.

“i’m a fucking mess.”

– –

scaramouche stared at himself in front of the mirror. dressed in formal kimono for tonight’s prom theme. a deep sigh left him as he readjusted his haori. the house was unusually chatty tonight – most probably because his mother was downstairs with nahida and her mother. it filled the normally quiet and serene atmosphere with something warm.

it’s been around a week and a half since you had last talked to him. he hasn’t heard from you since he dropped off the box of dango with a note asking for a dance, he hopes you liked them. he reached for the gel on his desk but he hesitates, not sure if he wanted to gel his hair back or just leave it as is. you’ve always nagged him about being presentable, now it’s become a habit of his to bring a small mirror and a comb wherever he goes.

a knock echoed in his room.

“may i come in, kunikuzushi?” ei, his mother, asked from the other side.

for a brief moment, he hears your voice. urging him to open the door and let his mother inside, hear her out. with another sigh he reluctantly gets up from his seat and opens the door.

“do you need anything?” he asks bluntly, raising a brow at the older woman her mouth opened and closed, eyes looking everywhere but him. it makes him frown but he doesn’t dwell on it for long.

ei cleared her throat and gestured if she could come in. scaramouche relented.

“i’m glad the kimono still fits you,” she finally says. “blue suits you better than purple.”

“thank you…” he quietly mutters, ignoring the sudden spike in his temperature.

“before you leave, i wanted you to have this.”

a feathered ornament was placed on his hands and he felt the wind get knocked out of him. he’s suddenly taken back to the old backyard where he and a younger boy played under the big sakura tree that housed their little base.

scaramouche bitterly smiled and twirled the ornament in between his fingers. “i thought you threw it away.”

ei frowns. her hands smoothing out the creases of his white nagagi and his haori. “you treasured that little feather, how could i possibly throw it away.”

he doesn’t say anything more and lets his mother fix up his appearance. she helped him readjust the kakuobi on his waist, brush out his hair, and even assisted him in making the red eyeliner he always wore be even.

“is [name] at the venue already?” he asks as he boarded the car, waving goodbye to nahida at the porch.

“i assume they are,” miko answered as she buckled the seat belt. “be sure to make up with them alright? all of my hard work in getting you that kimono from chiori would be wasted if you don’t.”

scaramouche rolls his eyes and looks out the window. he can’t help but frown at the feeling that’s swimming in his guts. something bad is going to happen–he was sure of it.

– –

the venue was obnoxiously – in his mind– decorated, but it was overall decent. in the distance he could see some of his classmates (re: friends) on the dance floor. when aether’s eyes caught sight of him, the blonde boy immediately waved him over but scaramouche only ducked under his hand when venti wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“get off of me!” he protests and tries to run away but a tanned hand dragged him back to the dance floor.

“come on man,” sethos grins at him. “let loose a bit!”

and that’s how scaramouche got dragged all over the venue with his little band of misfits. xiao and albedo were chatting by their table, the purple haired boy threw his middle finger up when albedo stuck out his tongue at his misery while xiao only rolled his eyes in amusement. the twins were by the dj requesting songs and heizou was on stage performing with childe.

scaramouche sighed for the nth time and let a small smile slip out. he only rolled his eyes when venti tugged at his cheeks and when charlotte took a photo of them. for the entire night, he let himself enjoy everyone’s company, all the while, keeping an eye out for you.

“scara, look over there.” itto nudged him and pointed across the room.

his heart suddenly started racing when he saw your figure slip away behind the gymnasium doors.

“was that [name]?” lumine asked, her brows furrowed. “should we go follow them? it’s raining pretty heavily...”

rain. scaramouche felt his feet run towards the doors, ignoring the shouts of concern from his peers. it was raining tonight. he couldn’t shake the growing dread that gripped his heart as the rain poured down.

the raindrops felt like small bullets that penetrated his skin. he was in pain and he didn’t know why. his mind kept screaming at him to run, and run, and run, but he didn’t know where he was running to. to catch up to you? no. that’s wrong, he is trying to catch you, so yes. maybe?

“you’re almost there.” a voice that sounded like yours echoed and everything went white.

scaramouche was suddenly inside an all too familiar room–your music room. there was a piano in the middle where you sat on the stool, the giant window in front of you was left open. the white curtains flowed with the wind as he tentatively tried to take a step closer.

“you know,” you start, fingers pressing onto the keys to play a familiar tune he knew by heart. “you never really told me what you titled this piece.”

“how is that relevant now?” he snapped, voice raising in volume. why did he sound so frustrated? why did this feel so familiar but strange at the same time?

“i guess there are some things you’ll never get to know, huh?” your tone was sad, but accepting.

you stop playing at the part he composed for you.

“why did you stop?” his voice turned shaky, the panic settling in his gut.

you look back at him and smile. “you don’t need to be too hard on yourself you know.”

“hey!” he shouts, chasing after your vanishing figure. when he tried you catch your wrist, it suddenly turned to smoke, inevitably slipping through his fingers. he felt his heart drop when he looked to see you standing in front of the giant window.

“you need to go now, kuni.”

“[name]!” he cried, desperation clawing at his chest.

you flash him one last smile.

“don’t leave me alone!”

and then he was back outside under the harsh downpour of rain. his hands meet the pavement hard, he felt the pain shoot up all the way to his head but he didn’t care. this was too familiar–too painfully fucking familiar. his breathing started to turn shallow, vision blurring with his tears as the rain continued to pound down on him, drenching him straight to the bone.

give up.

he refused.

give up.

he refused.

give u–

“kuni?”

he looks up from the pavement and he sees you there, across the street. under the bus stop with your hand under the rain. there were tears on the corners of your eyes as you realized that it was him.

you laugh in disbelief and rub at your tears. “you came all this way, for me?”

“you idiot,” he curses at you as he stands up. “i wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t left. i still want that dance!”

scaramouche felt his smile slip away when a flash appeared in his mind– a warning, a memory, an inkling feeling that something bad is going to happen.

“don’t!”

but it was too late. he willed his feet to stand up and help you. save you like you did to him. what went wrong? everything was fine–he was talking with his mother again, he can play the piano without having the urges to jump off a cliff, he had friends now, he had you. so why did everything start clicking into place in his mind, as if this was how it’s supposed to end?

am i too late? he asked himself as he reached a hand for you. everything was too slow, he caught every expression that went across your face that was painfully illuminated by the yellow headlights.

will the last time you played piano together truly be the last?

“why are you smiling…?” he asks, voice breaking in disbelief.

but if that truly was the last time, then how will you find out that he named the piece after you?

“why are you doing this to me!” he shouted, voice echoing in the empty streets.

he didn’t quite pick up on what you said the last time you two played in the music room. it was something along the lines of “you’re so mean.” or “why won’t you tell me?” but those don’t feel quite right. why couldn’t he remember?

“don’t leave.” he pleaded, just above whisper.

why didn’t he pay enough attention?

you once told him, “the greatest movies are never made.” but he often wanted to counter them with “but here you are in front of me.” will he never get the chance to tell you that?

ah.

now he remembers.

the words you said that day, it was….

“i love you, kunikuzushi.”

– –

beep. beep. beep.

so this was it? he asked himself as he stared at his hands. they were bandaged and bloodied. the heart monitor’s rhythmic beeping made his ears ring, feeling each beep drill itself into his skull as the doors opened and a flood of nurses and doctors rushed in.

the mask over his lips continued to fog up with his labored breathing, adding to that suffocating feeling inside his chest. everything was too much– too loud, too bright, too real. he wanted to leave. he needed to see you. but his vision blurred as his body gave out, collapsing back on his bed. was he dying? but didn’t he already die? this didn’t make sense.

a warm hand gripped his arm. when he turned to look at the person he felt the last flickers of hope in his heart die out. it wasn’t you.

there by his side was his mother, eyes blown wide and breath shaky as she tried to calm her breathing. she looked so strange, that frazzled and panicked look in her eyes didn’t belong there. she was supposed to look stern, strong–unyielding, not this fragile, worried mother.

“[name]...” he whispers. still clinging onto that small shimmer of hope.

“i’m so sorry, kunikuzushi.” ei’s voice brokes as she hung her head low, tears dropping to his arm.

“oh.”

the word slipped from his lips, barely audible. so it was a dream after all.

– –

home didn’t feel quite like home without you. even more so as his acquaintances (re: friends) helped him store everything in boxes. the twins were arguing over something, xiao and albedo’s little sisters were playing in one of the spare rooms, childe and itto were competing to see who could carry the most boxes, and his mothers were helping move his piano.

scaramouche ended the call with a breath of relief. he pocketed his phone and stared blankly at the sealed cd in one of the boxes. ei told him it was found on your body on the night of the accident. he frowned at the memory but picked up the cd nonetheless.

nahida told him he had run off in the middle of prom when his mother arrived. you chased after him and the both of you unfortunately got into an accident. the dreams–hallucinations maybe– were created by consciousness to cope with the guilt, his psychiatrist said. zhongli said it would be best to distance himself from anything that reminded him of you, but how could he? not when every turn he took you in this small town you were there.

ripping the plastic and placing the cd in his worn out cd player, he skipped through the songs. a smile creeping up his lips when he realized you finally got it right. you burned the cd with songs he actually liked.

“hello…? is this thing working?”

scaramouche stopped. so did everyone present in the room when they heard your voice. from the corner of his eye, he saw miko try to approach him but ei held her back. for the nth time in the past 8 months since he woke up, he felt grateful for the woman.

“it’s flashing red so i’m just gonna assume it’s recording. if it’s not then this is gonna be very, very, embarrassing.” you laugh and paused. “i’m not really sure why i’m doing this. maybe it’s because i’ve been having this strong sense of deja vu? it kinda keeps me up at night, y’know? the thought that i won’t be able to tell you, so here i am, recording just in case something bad happens.”

he winces at your keen intuition but he makes no effort to stop playing the recording.

“it’s… been hard. seeing you in so much pain, i mean. it just became harder when we grew up and all i could do was just… watch. i didn’t know how to help. i was there, but it never felt like it was actually enough. was i doing enough, kuni?” you chuckle bitterly. “i never got why you wanted to be called scaramouche. names are an important part of someone’s identity, so i kinda get why you wanted to be called something else, but i don’t think i’ll see you as someone who isn’t kunikuzushi. sorry about that. maybe i’m also a bit stuck in the past, like you.”

he feels ei sit beside him, guiding his head to lay on her shoulder as your voice continues to echo throughout the now empty house.

“i hope in the future, you aren’t so hard on yourself and you continue playing the piano. seeing that spark in your eyes again, though almost always momentarily, makes me really happy. i felt a part of me become jealous. i never liked piano that much; i only ever played it because you liked it. i felt a little bit left behind. i don’t know. i-i just thought, you’d be stuck with me in this gray area for a little longer.” your voice started to shake. “i felt really sick and guilty when i started to hope you’d fail the audition. i’m so sorry about that. you were working so hard, and that made me want to work hard too! so i started practicing without you. i asked furina to mentor me, and oh boy, was she strict.” you chuckle. “but it was worth it. seeing that look of bewilderment on your face when i played nuvole bianche for auditions was really cute! i don’t think i’ve seen that expression on your face before.”

“w-whoa, whoa why is the red flashing slowing down?! is the recording gonna end?!”

he laughs at your panicked state. fiddling with the cd case in his hands.

“well okay then, i’ll wrap this message up. kuni, i’m so glad i met you when i climbed over our fenced gates. i’ll never forget that confused look on your face when i jumped over it and landed in your backyard and just, started listening to you play. you know, i was very sure you’d call your mom and have me kicked out.” you chuckle and take a deep breath. “i like you, you know. like very, very much and not in the friends type of like. for the longest time, i’ve had the biggest crush on you. i’m surprised you didn’t notice! hell even xiao figured it out and he’s the densest person i know!”

scaramouche turns to glare at xiao who only shrugged his shoulders.

“but yeah, i like you. i can’t really make a grand confession, i suck at words. if… if you really want to know how much i like you, then come over to my place and i’ll show you this piece i made for you! i don’t know what to title it yet but i’m thinking about “kabukimono’s finale.” oh crap the red flashing is gone now! okay, okay, bye now kuni! and please don’t be too hard on yourself okay? remember,” you pause. “i love you.”

and like that, the recording ended. scaramouche sat there on the floor with his mother for a long time. everyone had finished moving his stuff out and all that was left were his piano and the cd player in front of him. slowly, he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“thank you,” he says in a quiet whisper. “for being here, i mean.”

ei smiled and patted down his hair, still using her shoulder as his makeshift headrest.

“you’re welcome.” she replied with a kiss to the crown on his head.

he carefully placed the cd back in its case and tucked it into a box labeled “[name].” standing up, he takes one last look around the house.

“thank you,” he whispered once more. scaramouche could have sworn he saw you turn to look at him from the piano stool to flash him a smile and a small wave. the light reflecting in your eyes reminded him of the filtered sunlight that slipped through the cracks of that giant window in your music room. he wonders if this was real or just a final farewell his mind conjured up to seal the gaping hole inside his chest. but maybe it didn’t matter.

he isn’t quite sure if you understood the weight of both your words, but they were enough. the house is quiet again, but not nearly as lonely as it felt after he woke up. there was a feeling of peace in the silence, like a final note that’s still lingering just long enough for the melody to be completed.

as he walked out of the house, leaving the boxes for the movers to move, scaramouche felt a sense of peace wash over him. the pain and guilt of losing you will never really disappear, but he had to walk down a path without you sooner or later. but for the first time since that accident, he felt like he could finally let go of the past.

step after step as he crossed the road and further away from his childhood home, he smiled– a small bittersweet smile. this won’t be enough to ease the pain but it was the beginning of something new. and for now, that was enough.

#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin scaramouche #wanderer genshin #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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mypoisonedvine · 9 months

Note

virgin neil lewis with 11: “fuck, do that again... please."

your work is so fucking good i LOVE it

thank you so much love!! i got so many amazing neil requests but I love the idea of virgin neil c: kinda made him an incel lowkey...

warnings: noncon sexual content (18+ only!!), perv!neil, grinding, neil being a creepy nice guy with 0 stamina (aka my exact type)

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

Neil could be a little bit... well... touchy.

You mostly didn't mind it. It was just his way of being friendly and he usually made you laugh with the way he would randomly hug you from behind or tickle you or playfight you just to hold you down.

Every once in a while it would get weird, but not too weird; just his dorky, goofy sense of humor taking a jokingly-horny turn.

Well, you thought he was joking.

Like, for example, today—when you were on the couch arguing over what to watch (a common occurrence).

“No way,” he shook his head, “it’s shlock!”

“Just because it had a big budget doesn’t mean it’s shlock!” you defended.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged with a smirk. “Just read the box!”

He snatched the DVD case out of your hands, flipping it to read the back as you tried to pull it away from him.

“In a world,” he began reading the synopsis in a deep, dramatic voice. “See? No good movie starts its premise with in a world—”

“Shut up!” you whined. “Reading the back is cheating! Gimme it!”

You leaned over him, trying to grab it, but his arms were longer; he held it up high and tilted his head back to keep reading: “In a world devastated by nuclear war—”

“You’d like it if you gave it a chance!” you insisted. You couldn’t reach as high as him from where you were sitting, so you thoughtlessly hopped into his lap and lifted yourself up to get closer. He yanked it away again, leaning to the side and watching you as you laughed and groaned and tried to get it away from him. “You just need to see it, then you’d like it!”

Three things happened at once, right then: you moved to try to get the DVD from him, twisting yourself in his lap; his other hand grabbed suddenly and tightly onto your hip; and he stopped laughing.

You didn’t really notice it at first, just happy you managed to snatch the case from him. You only really realized something was different when you looked at him with a smug grin which fell quickly. “Neil?”

His lip was between his teeth, and his face was a little flushed.

“Neil, what’s wrong?” you wondered, relaxing on top of him, which only made you put more pressure against his— oh.

“Fuck,” he breathed, holding your hips with both hands now, “do that again… please.”

“What the fuck?!” you snapped. “Are you— is that—?”

You tried to get off of him, but he was holding you down. Your face flushed as you suddenly felt self-conscious about everything you’d done— about wearing these tiny lounge shorts, about getting in his lap, about coming over to see him at all. He rocked his hips slightly under you, and you whimpered as you understood, without a doubt, that he was rubbing his erection right against you through his pants. You could feel it throbbing, even. You weren’t sure what was worse: the possibility that he got that hard that fast because you were in his lap, or that he’d been hard before when you two were just hanging out.

“Let me go, Neil,” you demanded, but your voice was weak and shaking; he ignored you, looking down at you in his lap as he moved you on top of him. “Neil, stop—”

“Fuck,” he sighed, “you’re warm.”

He did it again, again; you felt sick and strange and sort of numb as he held you tighter, groaning under his breath. “This isn’t funny,” you whined, “this is—what the fuck, dude—”

“Sorry,” he panted, moving you faster over him, and you grimaced as you were forced to feel the details of his cock against your pussy. It was disturbing, really, how well you could feel it with these clothes in the way: you could feel the ridge of his head, the shape and thickness of his shaft…

You swallowed, blinking quickly, not really believing that this was happening—this couldn’t be happening, right? Not to you, not with Neil, it just didn’t make sense. “Stop,” you begged again, quieter yet more desperate than ever.

“I will, I will,” he promised, “I’m so close— I’m almost done, then I’ll stop— fuck!”

He tossed his head back, and you felt it flexing. You watched in shock, confusion, and disgust as a small stain began to form on his shorts, hot come soaking through the fabric as his chest rose and fell quickly while he caught his breath.

You were speechless, and confused, and you had pins and needles all over as you tried to convince yourself that didn’t just happen— that your ‘friend’ hadn’t just used you to come, holding you down and rubbing you against him. You’d felt so helpless and dirty… so why was there a wet patch in your own shorts, not from coming but from unsatisfied arousal?

His grip relaxed on your hips, and you could get up, but you were still frozen. If you moved now, you might have to acknowledge that this was real.

“Okay,” he smiled, still breathing a bit heavy, eyes still shut with relief, “we can watch your movie now.”

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis dark smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

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hunnylagoon · 9 months

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 2: Jailbird

Ellie Williams x reader

I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.

Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues

Part one here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.

Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.

Fuck her.

I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.

She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.

"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."

My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"

"Why would-

"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.

"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."

"Fuck off."

"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."

"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."

"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."

"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.

"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving' or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."

"Please, stop."

"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-

"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.

She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-

"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.

I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.

You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.

I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.

My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.

Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.

I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"

His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."

"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.

"Hear ye, hear ye-

My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"

"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."

I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.

I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.

Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.

My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.

Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.

I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.

"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."

Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.

Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."

"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.

"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."

My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."

"Or catholic," My mother adds.

I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.

"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.

"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.

Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."

Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."

My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.

"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.

"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."

My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."

Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."

Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.

He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."

"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.

While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.

I don't respond, I don't know how.

My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."

Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.

"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.

"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."

"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.

"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"

"no-

"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."

"Dad, I'm not sick-

"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"

"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.

"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-

"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."

"Please, dad-

"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"

"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.

My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.

My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.

From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.

"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.

The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.

"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.

My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.

"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"

"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."

"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.

My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."

"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"

"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.

"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"

I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.

I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.

"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.

"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.

"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.

"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."

"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.

I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.

Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.

With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.

I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.

"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.

"Like for real?"

He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.

After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."

My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.

Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.

The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.

By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"

My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."

Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.

He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.

The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."

"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."

"It's just that-

"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."

I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"

"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."

Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"

Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."

"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.

"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."

Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."

"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.

He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"

"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"

"Of course I did."

"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."

"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.

Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.

The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.

The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.

The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.

"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.

"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.

"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.

All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."

I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.

"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."

I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.

I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.

"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.

"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."

Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."

Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.

Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.

I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.

D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK

Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁

Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!

Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!

Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!

Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me

Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!

566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.

Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.

Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place

Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍

Naomi: I'm so sorry

Naomi: I didn't think that would happen

Naomi: I didn't know what to do

Naomi: I love you

Aaron: U good?

Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything

Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that

Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad

Elijah: Hope you're safe

Elijah: Call me when you can

Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.

Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"

"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.

"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.

I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."

Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."

"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.

"Please take the bed."

I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"

"That's not why-

"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."

Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.

"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."

"What?"

"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."

I'm not doing well.

I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.

"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"

'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.

I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.

TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo

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