#my heart truly belongs there somewhere in the sea

[gonnaeatyourgirlfriend]

why is watching pirates of the caribbean: at world's end always such an intense experience

[megalony]

My Squad- Part 2

I have decided to make this a dad! Evan Buckley series, my first series for 911! Thank you all for the lovely feedback, I hope you like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefanthefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Series Taglist: @paramedicnerd004 @embersflame @allmybattleships

911 Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Evan hasn't been with the team long and has kept his family a secret, but now he is ready for the team to meet his daughters. All of them.

Enjoy.

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"We can't hide in here forever, you know," (Y/n) mumbled each word breathlessly between delicate pecks against Evan's jaw. She could feel his laugh vibrate against his sweaty chest that her fingertips were grazing over, although her fingers mostly stayed around the tattoo over the left side of his chest.

Angelica was written in black cursive ink near the lower part of his ribcage and a pair of wings were hovering just above the very fancy A of her name. Just beneath that, Eleanor was written with a rose at the end and there at the bottom, Coraline was written with a shooting star flying beneath her name. Evan had all his girls' names right beneath his heart where they belonged and in the outline of a heart over his left wrist, he had (Y/n)'s name etched into his skin.

He had her name tattooed the moment Angel had been born. They were married and had a family together, despite what people always said about getting significant other's names done in ink, Evan knew this was different. He wasn't about to leave (Y/n) and if anything were ever to happen between them, she was the mother of his children. Nothing would change that.

"What're you doing?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he tilted his head down to look at his wife while his hands dug into her hips.

Evan was stood between her legs that were bound around his lower back, her heels digging into his hips ready to pull him closer if he dared move away. The forming outline of her stomach was pressed into his abdomen and his knees were resting against the counter. He had carried her from the shower- which got even steamier than he first anticipated when he went in alone and found his wife joining him a minute later- and placed her on the counter next to the sink. He wasn't planning on letting her go just yet.

"Wondering what name will come up next. What if we actually get a boy this time, where will his name go?" (Y/n) let her fingertip trace the cursive letters that she had seen countless times over the years. Each name appeared only a week after each girl had been born.

It surprised (Y/n) that Evan managed to go as long as he did at the station without anyone knowing about his family. Clearly no one had seen him getting changed to stripping down. They would find it rather strange if they saw three different girl names tattooed onto his skin.

"I've got it planned out, if we've somehow got a boy in there," He shifted his hands round from her hips to smooth over her stomach, not truly believing they had a boy this time. "His name and footprint will go somewhere round here," Evan briefly moved his hand to the right side of his chest for an indication before he went back to holding her stomach.

Evan just knew Angel would be a girl, it had been like intuition, he was telling everyone he had a daughter before she was born and they never found out beforehand. With Ella, they both thought they would have a boy, that the chance would be one of each. Then (Y/n) had been sure Cora would be a boy, the chances of three girls in a row seemed a bit far fetched. Evan, however, was comitted to the thought that he was having a tribe of girls, that he was just meant to be a girl dad and he was smug when Cora came along.

This time he couldn't see things being any different, his girls were his world and he was betting with Maddie that it would be a fourth girl to add to his squad.

"Sounds great," (Y/n) moved her hands up to cup Evan's face and bring him closer, drowning in his bright smile that made his ruby red lips spread thin. And those deep blue eyes that creased and twinkled when he smiled at her like that.

When his hands moved to her bum and he pulled her to the edge of the counter and bumped her into his hips, (Y/n) hooked her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. She breathed a small 'what are you up to' against his lips although she knew perfectly well what he was thinking when his hands slipped round to squeeze the underside of her thighs that he lifted higher onto his hips.

"You know I can't get more pregnant, right?" (Y/n) could barely find the breath or the will to speak but she loved the feeling of him laughing into her neck where he was sucking and biting another bruise she would have to cover up from the girls.

"They're getting up," Evan kissed a trail down her throat but it didn't matter how close he got to her, how needily he grabbed her flesh or rutted against her. It wasn't going to change the fact that he could hear the girls starting to wake up.

"You'd better be quick then, Buckley."

"Daddy,"

"Woah, babygirl, why're you hanging in doorways?" Evan stumbled back into the doorframe as he secured his left arm around (Y/n) and moved his right hand to briefly rub his eye for a moment. He looked down at Ella who was stood smack bang in the centre of the bathroom doorway when he opened the door.

He was glad he had put his pants on and that (Y/n) was wearing one of his shirts so they were covered and not exposed with their little menace lurking around corners like this.

Ella didn't answer. Instead, she tilted her head to the right and frowned. Her little hands reached out in a grabbing motion and she pointed at her mum before jumping up and down, trying to hint that Evan was carrying the wrong person around. That was where Ella should be, not her mum.

Evan leaned down to the side when (Y/n) slowly unravelled her legs from his waist and slid down until she was stood beside him with her head tucked into his chest to hide her smile from their pouting daughter.

"I'm gonna get Cora up," Reaching up on her toes, (Y/n) pressed a lasting kiss to Evan's jaw and with her hand that was already around his waist, she lopped her fingers into the elastic of his boxers and snapped them against his hip. She jumped out of his arms when he gasped and jolted forward and she hurried into the nursery before he could think twice about chasing after her.

"Me." Ella lifted her arms again and pouted until Evan swooped down to pick her up.

"Come on, I need to get dressed then we can have breakfast."

He settled Ella down in the middle of his and (Y/n)'s bed so he could get dressed, narrowing his eyes and sticking his tongue out at her to make her smile and giggle. Evan tightened his belt loop and shrugged on his shirt before he sat down on the edge of the bed to button it up and grab a pair of socks.

When he leaned over to put on his socks, Ella moved forward and leaned up on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck and her face nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Hungry?" He questioned as he stood up and looped an arm behind him to keep her stable on his back.

"Maybe,"

"Hm, only maybe?"

A smile lit up Evan's face when he headed downstairs and his sights set on his eldest girl walking just ahead of him towards the kitchen. Evan tilted his head towards Ella who was leaning over his shoulder and brought a finger to his lips before he creeped over towards Angel. When she was past the doorway to the kitchen, Evan swooped his left arm out and lifted Angel off her feet and spun round with one girl in each arm.

He could feel Ella squealing into his shoulder and Angel gripped his forearm and screamed happily as her feet left the ground and she felt her dad kissing the side of her head.

"Daddy!" Angel tilted her head back on his shoulder and kicked her legs out as he carried her through the kitchen towards the fridge.

When he reached the fridge, Evan turned around and pushed his back up to the counter until Ella could let go of him and sit down on the counter and he could hold Angel with both arms and turn her around so she was facing him. She looped her arms lazily around his neck and brushed her nose against his causing him to grin and squint at her.

"Morning sweetie," Evan kissed her cheek before he set her back down to her feet and he moved his hands out in front of him. "What's for breakfast?" He bent each finger except for his index and middle fingers on both hands and pressed his right fingers against his left wrist to sign 'breakfast'.

Evan liked the routine he had gotten into with the girls recently. When he was on shift in the morning, he would get up, have his breakfast with the girls and drop them at school on the way to the station. His shifts were falling into the twenty four hour category right now which Evan didn't mind because then he got a few days off in a row to be with the girls. It was easier than coming home late at night to only see them for bedtime or working nights and sleeping through the day until they came home from school.

He didn't like night shifts unless it was for a twenty four hour shift, he wasn't good at sleeping during the day, it warped his body clock.

"Scrambled eggs,"

"Grab me the eggs then, Ella, you want an omlette with me baby?"

"Yeah,"

Evan bypassed Angel and moved towards the fridge, reaching up towards the top shelf for the small carton of milk they had hidden up there. He couldn't have a coffee without milk but with Ella, it meant any milk they had needed to be kept away from everything else in the fridge and if some spilled in the kitchen, it had to be mopped up straight away.

There was also a rule that Angel couldn't use or get the milk out without one of her parents watching. They couldn't risk any spillages around Ella. And since Angel and (Y/n) both hated the vegan cheese that didn't use milk, they hid all the dairy products on the top shelf of the fridge.

He waited for Angel to crack some eggs into a jug and he leaned over her shoulder to pour a drop of milk in for her so she could put it in the microwave. Evan knew he didn't have to tell her by now that when she was finished with the jug and all her dishes, they went straight in the sink and didn't mingle with any of Ella's plastic plates or forks and such. Nothing of Ella's touched anything of theirs when dairy was concerned.

"Here you go baby," Evan handed Ella two eggs and a small tub of mushrooms and he got a pan out on the cooker. She was surprisingly good at not getting any shell in the pan.

He watched her closely, arching his back out and planting his hands down on either side of Ella on the counter while she threw a big handful of mushrooms into the pan. A grin pulled at Evan's lips when he leaned his forehead down onto Ella's shoulder and she started to shake her fingers through his hair like she was petting him.

They all worked like clockwork, a routine that had taken a lot of time to perfect and usually ended up with Evan almost being late to work until now.

Angel got the plates out and a plastic bowl for Cora to have some scrambled egg and Evan dished it all up just as (Y/n) walked into the kitchen with Cora in her arms.

"Do you want an omelette mummy?" Ella trotted with her plate towards the table and (Y/n) smiled at the girls but shook her head.

"No thank you baby."

Food wasn't agreeing with her lately, this was the first pregnancy that was actually giving (Y/n) a problem with morning sickness. She had been fussy about food when they were expecting Cora but lately, most smells were off-putting and when she tried to eat she was gagging and coughing before she even finished one bite of food. Breakfast was usually missed most days now and sometimes lunch was given a miss too.

"Here, have one of these," Evan scouted through the cabinet until he found the protein shakes he had hidden up there, just in case either of the girls saw them and thought they would snatch one.

He had bought a pack of protein bottles and a box of powder sachets to add to drinks so if (Y/n) wasn't eating, she was at least having something. Needless to say, Evan wasn't best pleased and turned very concerned when the midwife told them at their last scan that (Y/n) wasn't really putting much weight on during this pregnancy and he realised how little she was actually eating.

He made himself a quick coffee in his flask and left it on the side along with his keys, ready to drink after he dropped the girls off. Usually he used to need his coffee before he had breakfast, before he even got dressed to try and wake himself up. But if he did that, then he couldn't give Ella a morning kiss because he had milk in his coffee and even the transferance of milk like that would set off her allergy.

(Y/n) took the shake from him with a smile and let him take Cora from her so he could feed her at the table. Her eyes followed him fondly as he sat at the table with Cora perched on his lap, trying to take the watch off his wrist. Their youngest was like a magpie, anything shiny that she saw, she wanted.

Cora had inherited Evan's blue eyes that were so transfixed on his watch that she didn't bother to put up a fuss when he fed her like she normally did in the morning.

Her fists bashed against his wrist and her fingers got stuck under the strap on his left wrist that was around her middle. And Evan used the distraction to spoon a mouthful of scrambled eggs up and get her to eat.

Arching her back out, (Y/n) leaned her elbows on the counter in front of her and tried to drink the protein shake that tasted just like a very thick strawberry milkshake. In their house, they were used to calling them 'shakes' because when Ella heard the word milk, she panicked. To her, shakes were fruit smoothies and to Angel they meant either a smoothie or an actual milkshake.

(Y/n) couldn't sit at the table, not when she could smell the strong scent of eggs and the toast Angel had made. It made her stomach churn just thinking about it and the protein shake was already setting heavy in her stomach and making her throat tense with each gulp she took.

"Good girl," Evan praised when Cora ate most of her breakfast before she started to kick her legs out and bash her hands on his arm. Her sign that she wanted to go mooch about rather than sit here with them at the table.

Cora was only one and she could crawl and stand up if she had something to lean on, but she couldn't walk yet. Evan was desperate not to miss that moment. When Angel and Ella started to walk Evan was in odd jobs such as working at a bar during the nights, so he didn't miss their first words or steps. Now he was a firefighter, it was the only job he could ever see himself doing, but he knew it was going to mess with a few things with the family.

He didn't want to miss Cora's milestones or their next baby's milestones but he wasn't guaranteed to see them either. The only thing he was guaranteed was to be there at the birth when their next one was born.

Evan had cut the cords for all of their girls and he was determined to do it again this time around.

Standing up, Evan headed through to the living room and placed Cora down in the play cot beneath the bay window so she could scramble around with her toys and make as much noise and disruption as she pleased.

On his way back through to the kitchen, Evan grabbed a pink bobble lying unused on the side table and wrapped it around his wrist before he headed over to Angel. If he didn't do her hair now she would only grab him when they were heading out the door and demand he did her hair before they left. Evan would admit he wasn't the best at styling the girls hair, but he did alright and Angel had a thing for him platting or trying to mess with her hair.

He was sure it was somehow sensory for her, she would sit still for an hour and let him tangle his hands in her hair and mess with it and do all sorts of random styles and she didn't care. She didn't fidget like Ella did.

He stood behind Angel's chair and slowly started to drag his fingers through her hair, scraping it up so he could put it in a high ponytail. Just as he got the bobble wrapped once around her long sandy hair, his head snapped to the right and he looked across at (Y/n).

"You didn't just throw that up, did you?" Evan moved his hands down to rest on Angel's shoulders but his eyes stayed focused on his wife.

He could see the way she was hunched over the sink with one hand tightly gripping the edge of the sink and her other arm tightly bound around her middle. A sigh passed through his lips when (Y/n) didn't respond or turn around to face him; that gave him his answer.

"Alright you two, shoes on, go get ready." Evan arched his back and leaned over Angel until she tilted her head back to look up at him sweetly. He held his left hand out and curved his right hand over his left, moving his hand back and forth to sign for her to get her shoes on. They needed to get ready so he could drop them both off at school.

As soon as the pair of them left the table, Evan walked through the kitchen until he was stood behind (Y/n) with his hands on her hips and his lips smothering the back of her head. He didn't like going to work and leaving her when she felt like this. She had Cora to feed which wouldn't help her if she felt sick and then she had to go and pick up the girls this afternoon and make tea for them. And since he was on a double shift, she had to do the bath and bedtime routine for all three of them on her own.

"Are you gonna be okay if I go? I won't be back til tomorrow afternoon," Evan wouldn't finish or even leave the station until around lunchtime tomorrow and then he said he would pop and see Maddie and check how she was settling into her new apartment before he came home. He didn't want to go to work wondering if (Y/n) was going to be alright on her own.

"I'll be alright, I'll feel better by the time I have to get the girls from school, I promise." (Y/n) rubbed at her eyes before she turned around in Evan's arms and reached her hands up to caress his neck and jaw.

"If you don't feel well you have to ring me, I can always ask Maddie to pop round,"

Having his sister close by had never felt like such a blessing. Evan knew it had been hard on Maddie when she was with Doug, living so far away from him and the girls. She had been there when he got married and when she argued with Doug once and tried to leave, she had stayed with (Y/n) and Evan and had been around for Angel's birth. Then when Ella and Cora were born she travelled down to stay a week with them, but she always missed them when she couldn't come down to visit.

And Evan knew he didn't make things easier for her when he wouldn't let Doug come down.

He told Maddie she was always welcome in his home and he wanted her around more, but he refused point blank to entertain Doug. He wouldn't have that man around his daughters. But now she had left him and was staying in LA and so nearby, Evan felt complete. He had all his girls, his sister included, right by him where he wanted and needed them.

If he rang his sister and asked if she would stop by and check in on (Y/n), she never minded.

"I'll be fine, baby."

"You'd better be," He pressed his finger beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him while a soft smile spread across his face. "I love you both, and I'll see you tomorrow,"

***

Holding the door open, Evan leaned back and let Maddie walk in front of him into the house before he followed swiftly after her and shut the door. He had helped put a few new pictures up on the walls at her place but he couldn't refuse his big sister when she asked to come back with him and see the girls.

"Angel's in there," Evan pointed towards the living room while he kicked off his boots and Maddie hung up her coat on the rack. Her head ticked to the side and she looked at him quizically.

"How do you know that?" He had only just walked in the door along with her, how could he possibly know which girl was sitting in the living room?

"I saw the tv when I pulled in the drive, subtitles are on." He had caught a glimpse of the tv through the bay window when they got here and he could see Cinderella on tv with subtitles at the bottom. That and the fact that he could barely hear the tv in the hallway meant it was Angel in the living room. If it was Ella, she would have been blasting out the lyrics and (Y/n) always turned the tv up loud. Angel was the only one who had the subtitles on.

Evan followed Maddie into the front room and a fond smile overtook his features as he watched her go up to the sofa and lean over the back. She stood on her tiptoes to curve over the back of the sofa and wrap her arms around Angel who squealed loudly before babbling 'Auntie Maddie' a few times.

She was only ever comfortable talking around close family such as her parents or Maddie. The school were having a difficult time getting her to speak in class, even though she was in a select class specifically for hearing impaired children.

But Evan loved it when she spoke, even though just like him and (Y/n), she would use sign language at the same time out of habit. Her voice may be a little quiet or high at times and her words were slurred and drawled, but he loved her voice all the same.

Angel sat up on her knees and turned around to properly hug Maddie and her eyes shone and she waved when she saw Evan walking into the room.

"Hi baby," He walked over and kissed the top of her head, brushing his thumb across her cheek while Maddie moved towards the cot beneath the window, grinning and cooing at Cora who was starting to wake up. "How was school?" He wrapped one arm around her waist when Angel clung to his neck and he lifted her effortlessly up over the sofa so he could give her a bear hug.

"Good, we can go swimming tomorrow,"

"That's cool, we all need to go swimming, get Cora learning," Evan pressed another kiss to the top of her head. He remembered seeing the letter stuck on the fridge last week saying that Angel's class were going to do weekly swim sessions. He had signed the form but the letter was still on the fridge so none of them forgot she had to pack her costume into her school bag.

Evan leaned down and set Angel back on her feet but his head snapped towards the kitchen when he heard Ella's unmistakeable high-pitched scream followed by a very worrying cry.

He locked eyes with Maddie who paused her little dance with Cora as Evan gently nudged Angel towards her aunt before he took off towards the kitchen. He had heard something clatter, most likely Ella had dropped something and scared herself or thought she was going to get into trouble.

"Sweetheart you're fine- just come here-" (Y/n) dragged her hand through her hair before she tried to reach out for Ella but she screamed again sending a shudder through (Y/n)'s system.

Her eyes widened when she looked over and saw Evan stood in the doorway to the kitchen, trying to see what was going on.

(Y/n) had only been making up a bottle of milk for Cora because she knew the toddler would be waking up from her nap right around now. She didn't hear or see Ella toddle up behind her and when she turned around, she tripped over Ella. The bottle in her hand went flying and when it collided with the floor, milk sprayed out, splattering up the fridge, puddling across the floor and lathering Ella's legs.

Another horrid scream left Ella's lips which made (Y/n)'s head rattle and she closed her eyes, fighting off the headache as she slowly went down on her knees to grab the bottle and try to nudge Ella away from the mess. The five year old had just frozen in panic.

"Baby girl, come here." Evan moved over and grabbed Ella under the arms and lifted her up to move her away from the puddle on the floor.

He carefully stood her up on the table so she was level with him but when a burning cry left her lips, Evan cupped her face in his hands and leaned close until their temples were touching. The contact made her take a deep breath and the trace of a smile on his otherwise concerned yet stern face caught her full attention.

"Ella, if you can scream, then you're not going to go into shock. Look at me, you're fine, it didn't touch your skin, you didn't swallow any milk."

Evan kissed her nose before he reached over and grabbed the tea towel and started to swipe the remnants from her tiny leggings and make sure it didn't go anywhere else or actually touch her skin, just to be safe. She was using all her breath to scream, that was enough of a sign for her parents that she wasn't about to go into anaphylactic shock or it would have happened immediately.

A small whimper left her lips until Evan picked her back up and settled her on his hip, letting her burrow into his neck and curl her arms up against his chest like she was trying to disappear. He did his best to dodge round the puddle on the floor so he could reach (Y/n). He crouched down beside her and hooked his free arm under (Y/n)'s and lifted her up with him.

"Go sit down, I'll get Ella changed and clean this up. Maddie's here, she's snatched Cora so she won't need a bottle yet." He had to change Ella, just to be on the safe side, she would just scratch her legs and panic if not. But he would deal with the slight puddle of milk if (Y/n) went to sit down for five minutes with the girls.

Maddie had stolen Cora who would be happy and entertained for the time being. It was what she always did, came in, attached to the girls and entertained them and played with them. (Y/n) didn't have to do everything on her own, Evan was home now.

"Thank you," (Y/n) brought her hands up to rest on his chest before she pushed up to kiss him. She could feel his hand winding down from her waist to caress her bum when she sank her teeth down into his lower lip.

But a gasp left Evan's lips and his eyes shot open when Ella whined a grumpy 'daddy' before she grabbed his face and turned his head back towards her in a huff of jealously. He could taste the specks of blood on his lower lip from being roughly pulled away from (Y/n) and he darted his tongue out over his lip while his brows rose in shock.

"That wasn't very nice. You're needy, you know that?" He pouted down at his middle daughter but the only response he got was Ella patting his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss.

"I wonder who she gets it from,"

[farfromstrange]

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness. 

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally. 

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by. 

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth. 

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.  

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you. 

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him. 

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave. 

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you. 

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again. 

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself. 

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive. 

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to. 

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure. 

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.  

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you. 

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you. 

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands. 

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts. 

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you. 

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop. 

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper. 

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth. 

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you. 

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart. 

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again. 

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all. 

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start? 

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say. 

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him. 

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.” 

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same. 

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back. 

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

[darth-mortem]

Here is my another one fix-it COD fanfic translated by @g8se.

ATTENTION: This fic contains COD MW3 spoilers.

After Johnny's death, Simon loses his desire to live. Having avenged Makarov, he leaves the army but doesn't know where to go. It's then that Captain Price shows him the way. A long journey leads Simon to a remote island where he rediscovers the purpose of his life. 3455 words.

Post-canon, fix-it, angst, fluff, Ghost/Soap, love

I advise you to turn on this and this music while reading.

Simon stood at the deck of the ferry, leaning on the railing with his elbows, watching as ahead, through the dense morning fog hovering over the strait, emerged the outlines of his final destination - the isle of Islay. The cold wind stirred the waves, crashing against the ferry's blunt steel nose, seeping through clothing, making tears well in his eyes and leaving a salty taste on his lips. Seagulls circled above the ferry, their desperate, piercing cries making his heart squeeze in an indescribable yearning.

Simon smoked, with the edge of his ever-present balaclava lifted over his nose. He hadn't approved of this foolish habit before, but had picked it up after Johnny's death. At first, cigarettes disgusted him, but eventually he got hooked. The bitter smoke filling his lungs triggered memories of times when he could still feel happiness, when he could feel something other than the dull, oppressive pain that had now become his constant companion.

You can read on Ao3 or here:

The outlines of the island became clearer. The wind blew the fog away, the white-capped waves repeatedly clashed against the ferry's sides. Simon felt a kinship with the ever-restless sea, as now, just like the sea, he will never find peace while his tormented heart is still beating. After finishing his cigarette, he tossed the stub overboard and immediately fetched another from the pack. He had no plan, no aim, nothing except the enigmatic words of Captain Price, spoken during their, probably, last encounter.

...”I'm leaving,” Lieutenant Riley said, placing his resignation report on the captain's table.

Price took it, silently glanced over the papers, then raised his head to see Ghost, standing still and staring blankly somewhere past him.

It was over. Vengeance had been achieved; Makarov and all his henchmen were dead. Yet, it brought Simon no solace. He was utterly hollow, dead inside, and he no longer wanted nor could continue his service because he saw no sense in it.

“Where will you go?” Price asked, puffing on his cigar.

“I don't know,” Simon replied indifferently, shrugging his shoulders.

“Then allow me to give you a piece of advice,” the captain nodded towards the chair, and the lieutenant obediently sat down, putting his hands on his knees. “Head to Scotland. There's an island, Islay. Go there, to a small village on the coast, Port Ellen. There's a little pub right on the beach called 'Slice of Peace.' Find it, but don't rush. Observe before entering. Perhaps there, at last, you'll find peace for your soul. At least, that's what I would truly wish for.”...

The ferry arrived to Port Askaig right on schedule, but Simon didn't linger there. Port Ellen was situated almost on the other side of the island, about nineteen miles away. This distance could be covered by car in about forty minutes, but Simon didn't have a car. He had practically nothing except a small backpack with his belongings. Without much appetite, he ate a sandwich at the gas station, then left Port Askaig and, without any hurry, began walking along the road toward Port Ellen. Nineteen miles is a considerable distance for an average person, but not for a retired lieutenant. He understood that the journey would take him five to six hours, but that didn't daunt him. He was capable of walking without stopping for much longer if necessary, and right now, it was more necessary than ever.

About two hours into his journey, near Bridgend Woods, a farmer picked Simon up in a small truck. The truck bed was filled with sheep, and the driver was heading to Laggan Farm, but he offered to drop this strange, silent man in a balaclava off almost at Glendale. The good-natured and compassionate farmer could see that his passenger was consumed by profound sorrow, so he didn't pry into anything. As they bid farewell, he left his address and phone number, offering a visit if Mr. Riley needed a place to stay. Simon thanked him, but as soon as the truck disappeared from sight, he crumpled the piece of paper with the address and threw it away before continuing his way to Port Ellen.

Arriving at Port Ellen, Simon did as Captain Price had instructed him. Not because the retired lieutenant wanted to fulfil his commander's final order, no. Just on his first evening in Port Ellen, upon finding the pub mentioned, Simon saw Johnny there. He was as beautifully fit as ever but had let his hair grow a bit; now he had to tie back his mohawk to keep it from getting in the way when he’s working. John no longer wore military uniform or heavy gear. He was wearing jeans, a high-necked knitted sweater, and a bartender's apron with large pockets. The tattoo he got in the SAS were no longer on his hand, but he had visible scars on his temples.

For nearly a week Simon observed him from early morning until late at night. He didn't stay in the local hotel or anywhere else, spending the cold nights in the docks or in someone's unlocked barn. Simon watched and listened, and after a few days, he knew that John MacTavish had showed up around a year ago with a strange story of awakening in a hospital with no memories of his past life, but with documents and a certain sum of money in his account. After treatment and rehabilitation in Glasgow, MacTavish moved to the Isle of Islay, bought a small house on the coast. He opened a pub on the ground floor and arranged his dwelling on the first floor. Being a Scot, John was eventually accepted into the local community after a couple of months.

Of course, Simon Riley wasn't credulous. He observed and noted any matching characteristic - gestures, expressions, words, and body language that resembled Johnny's usual mannerisms. The retired lieutenant watched how MacTavish worked, solved work-related issues, and interacted with his pub's customers.

Simon really wanted to believe that this man was indeed Johnny. His Johnny, the one who once restored his ability to feel joy, happiness, love; his Johnny, with whom it was easy to work and spend leisure time; his Johnny, who managed to see beyond Ghost in his skull-faced mask, not just a soldier, a killing machine, but a human being. Injured, scarred, broken, but nonetheless - a human being. Simon Riley.

The final straw of these observations was an incident that occurred one evening at one of the tables by the pub, standing right on the sandy shore. John, as always, smiling, full of energy and life, brought four pints of beer to some grey-bearded fishermen. One of them was in the middle of telling a joke, and the cheerful pub owner naturally stopped to listen and laugh along with them.

“ Hey, John, how aboot sharin' a joke wi' us?” one of the fishermen asked, tipping his beer.

“Why no’?” MacTavish's lips lit up with his dazzling smile. “Well, for example... dae ye know what haes two legs an’ bleeds?”

“Mebe it's Lars whan he stabbed himsel' wi' the fishin' huke straicht in...” one of the fishermen started, but another one, the infamous Lars, jabbed him in the side with his fist.

“ Or mebbe it's yer wife on certain days o' the month?” he exclaimed in offense.

“Easy, lads,” the eldest among them thumped the table with his fist and looked at MacTavish. “Sae, whit's the craic, John?”

“Half a dog!” cheerfully replied the man and chuckled, but quickly fell silent, noticing no one echoed his response.

“That's a braw odd joke,” Lars said, shaking his head. “Whaur did ye hear that, John?”

“I... I don't know,” MacTavish said, bewildered, raising his hands. “Maybe it's somethin' from my past life that I don't remember.”

“Maybe it's fer the best tha ye dinnae remember,” the eldest fisherman shook his head. “ It's chilblaining tae picture how it wis wi these jokes.”

That evening, Simon quietly entered the empty pub just before closing. The bell above the door announced his arrival, and John peeked out from the kitchen - no longer wearing his apron, with his hair down, surprise in his remarkably bright blue eyes.

“We're ‘bout to close, sir,” he started, but then suddenly fell silent, catching the look of unspeakably sad brown eyes surrounded by long and blonde lashes. “But, ye know what? Come on in! Ye're not a local, right? Yer lookin' like ye seriously need to doon a few glasses o’ whiskey. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Simon hesitantly approached the bar counter and added, “I’d kill for some whiskey.”

Most of the lights in the room were already off, but the lamps over the bar were still lit, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise as he peered under the hood at the stranger with the skull-printed balaclava.

“What's the getup, sir?” he asked and cheerfully, amiably smiled. “Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite,” Simon replied automatically, and they both suddenly froze, looking at each other.

“I'm sorry,” John finally spoke, slowly pouring two glasses of whiskey; he placed one in front of the peculiar visitor and took the other one. “Have we met before? What's your name, sir?”

“Simon,” he replied, and in his hollow dead eyes, for perhaps the first time in a year, flickered faint sparks of hope. “Simon Riley.”

John looked curiously at the late visitor's face as he lifted the edge of his balaclava to take a sip of whiskey but averted his gaze upon realizing his curiosity was noticed. Swirling the glass in his hand, he took a sip and quietly asked:

“Ye're military, Simon Riley?”

“Retired,” he replied, tilting his head slightly. “Why do you think so?”

“I don't know,” John said, puzzled, and gave a shy smile, “it was just the first thing that came to mind.”

They sat in the dimly lit pub till the late hours of the night. Simon saw that Johnny was at ease in his company, feeling a sense of trust, although a person who didn’t remember anything from his past life would typically cast suspicion on the stranger in the skull mask. Eventually, the bottle was emptied. The pub owner poured the last drops of whiskey into their glasses and looked at Simon with a tinge of regret.

“So, where are you staying?” he asked, wanting to prolong the parting in every possible way.

“Nowhere, really,” Simon shrugged and let out a quiet yet deeply mournful sigh.

“Ye know,” Johnny spoke slowly, “ye might think I'm mad, but I have a comfortable sofa at home.”

“You're very kind, but I have no money at all,” Simon shook his head and smiled bitterly. “I can only hope what little I have left will cover paying you for this bottle.”

“Oh, no, leave tha’!” John protested, even his hair stood on end. “Ye've been great company, tae be honest, I havenae had a conversation like this with anyone for a long time... not like with you. So, I'm repeatin’ my offer, and as for the money... I wouldnae mind a hand in the pub. What do ye say?”

And Simon agreed.

Over the next few weeks, the retired lieutenant was learning how to live a civilian life. He quickly adapted to his new responsibilities and managed not only to assist John in the pub but also took care of him - preparing breakfast and coffee, tidying the house, buying groceries from local stores. However, Simon did all of this automatically, almost without thinking. The most important thing was that he was once again close to Johnny. Yes, the latter didn't remember him at all, but they spent a lot of time together, discussing everything under the sun. The only thing the retired lieutenant refused to talk about was his military service. However, John didn't insist. He saw the terrible scars on Simon's neck and face when he lifted the edge of his balaclava, perfectly understanding why he didn't want to talk about it.

One misty, cold morning before the pub opened, Simon and Johnny stood on the beach, smoking, watching the restless sea. Somewhere in the sky, seagulls circled, and their cries remained piercing and desperate, but they no longer held power over Simon Riley's soul. Johnny had just leaned against him, and Simon, in a familiar gesture, put his arm around his shoulders, shielding him from the gusts of cold wind that pierced to the bone, leaving a salty taste of the sea on their lips.

“Simon,” the retired lieutenant heard a quiet, bewildered voice and turned his head towards it, looking closely at Johnny, “We've met before, haven't we?”

Riley looked down, took a drag from his cigarette, and remained silent for almost a minute before replying:

“Yes.”

“I've thought so,” Johnny's voice held no anger or offense. “Ye knew what I liked for breakfast, what coffee I drink, which cigarettes I smoke. Ye knew I like my whiskey neat. Ye knew... a lo’ of things that I didn't notice right away.”

Simon fell silent, looking out to the sea once more. Johnny slowly rested his head on Simon's shoulder and felt his fingers rake through his mohawk, tousled by the wind. Raising his hand, MacTavish slowly touched the scar on his temple and spoke again.

“Was I military too?” He asked. “Did we serve together? Were we friends?”

Simon remained silent. The wind snatched the cigarette butt from his fingers, but he remained absolutely still, stare fixed straight ahead, and seemingly not even blinking. John lifted his head from Simon's shoulder, took a step forward to face him, and held his shoulders. His other hand rested on Simon's chest. Simon finally lowered his gaze, looking into MacTavish's eyes.

“Will ye be surprised if I tell ye I seem tae have fallen for you?” John said. “Tis madness ‘cause I've only known ye for a few weeks, but... I'm drawn to ye. From our very first meeting when ye walked into my pub. That's why I’ve invited ye over, not because I pure needed an assistant. Please, Simon, tell me something!”

“Let's go inside,” Simon finally spoke and very gently, carefully touched John's cheek with his fingers.

The pub should have opened by now, but at this hour there never were any customers, so MacTavish didn't change the sign “Closed” to “Open.” They sat at the bar facing each other, just as on that first night when Simon finally mustered the courage to enter. Johnny poured them a whiskey each, carefully and unsurely covering Simon's hand, laying on the counter, with his.

The retired lieutenant gulped down his drink and then reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out two photographs. In one of them was Johnny in his uniform and gear, with a rifle in hand and his ever-present smile. It was his last photo taken before that fateful day when, as Simon thought, Johnny was killed. The second photo was a group shot, displaying all members of Task Force 141. Gaz and Soap were smiling, the captain looked stern, and Ghost, as always, was in the background wearing his skull mask. Johnny stared at these photos for a long, intense moment before looking back at Simon.

“I never stopped loving you, Johnny,” he said quietly. “I was with you when you were shot in the head. I held you and saw the life fade from your eyes. I don't know anything about how you survived, where you were treated, or what happened to you after that day. I remained in service only as long as it took to find your killer and seek revenge. Then, when I brought the captain the report of my discharge, he told me how to find you. He didn't give any specifics, and I came here not knowing what to expect.”

“Why didn't ye tell me this straight away?” Johnny asked, gently stroking Simon's arm.

“You were so happy, not remembering the past,” Riley replied in the same quiet tone, wrapping his wrist around Johnny's fingers. “I didn't have the courage to tell you about our service. About everything we had to go through. About how that scumbag shot you in the stomach and head while you were trying to protect our captain.”

“But that's not all that happened,” MacTavish shook his head and looked into Simon's eyes again. “There was us, not just comrades-in-arms or friends, right?”

“Yes,” nodded the retired lieutenant. “Not just that.”

Johnny lowered his gaze back to the photographs, trying to comprehend that the tough guy in the bulletproof vest covered in gear was himself; trying to recall the features of the other two fighters. That one in the hat with fancy sideburns was probably Captain Price. The name of the young and cheerful black guy in the cap was not mentioned by Simon, but they were probably friends with Johnny at some point. MacTavish frowned, trying to remember something, trying to find even the smallest breadcrumbs of memories that could lead him to the rest of them, but... In vain.

Doctors told him that with such brain damage, especially in the frontal lobe, memory loss was the least of all possible consequences. They said that MacTavish was lucky to remain functional and mentally stable. Memories might eventually return, but it was more likely that they wouldn't. Johnny accepted all of this. He had started a new life and believed he was completely happy until a mysterious stranger in a skull-print balaclava appeared on the threshold of his pub.

“I can't remember,” Johnny finally said, sadly looking at Simon. “Those people in the photo... We were probably close, bu’ I don't remember. All I can say is that even without remembering ye, I've fallen in love with ye again. And I don't want ye to sleep on the couch or go somewhere... I don't know, where your home is?”

“My home is where you are,” Simon replied, lifting Johnny's hand and lightly kissing his knuckles. “So if you still need an assistant...”

“Actually, I need more of a partner,” Johnny said, openly and warmly smiling at the man he didn't remember but loved with all his heart.

Simon spent several more weeks delving into the intricacies of managing the pub - learning how to plan and manage purchases, make cocktails, froth milk, cook simple dishes from the menu, work the till, and more. The pub closed on Mondays, and on those days, they would head out to the sea on Johnny's boat - they would fish or just circle around the island. Simon no longer slept on the couch or was a guest in MacTavish's house; he became its rightful owner. Johnny felt completely happy, falling asleep in his strong and warm embrace, resting his head comfortably on his chest.

Simon was happy too. It was evident how he gradually became less reserved, started to communicate more with the pub's customers, and increasingly more wore his balaclava raised to his nose. This allowed a glimpse that the retired lieutenant began to smile, doing so more and more often.

On a cold morning when the first snowfall covered the island with a white blanket, Simon and Johnny stood on the beach, smoking, watching the restless sea. Wrapped in a single blanket over their shoulders, they embraced each other, their lips displaying serene and happy smiles.

“I wanted to propose to you,” Simon broke the silence, stating this as casually as if it were something utterly inconsequential.

Johnny coughed, choking on cigarette smoke, and looked at him in astonishment.

“Yes, I wanted to,” Simon confirmed, continuing to gaze at the sea. “I even bought a ring for you, but... I never dared to. I thought we would have more time. When you, as I thought then, passed away, I left the ring on your grave. The cemetery worker who found it was probably happy; it was quite expensive.”

“Simon,” Johnny started, but Simon shook his head, turned to him, and, discarding the cigarette, covered his lips with his fingers.

“I can't afford to buy you the ring you deserve,” continued the retired lieutenant. “But maybe you'll agree to this?”

He pulled a ring from the inner pocket of his jacket—not golden or silver, but clearly antique, finely crafted. Johnny raised his hand, and Simon put the ring on his finger. He then kissed Johnny, lowering his head, and the piercing salty wind no longer had power over them because their hearts burned with a fire hotter than the epicentre of a nuclear explosion.

“I still couldn't remember anything,” Johnny said as they returned to the pub and prepared for opening. “You must be sad because of it.”

Simon looked at him, then pulled off his balaclava, smiled openly and sincerely, and replied:

“Quite the opposite.”

[winterwhisperz-blog]

ALR

I’ve already exhausted the ears of anyone who listens to me with rambles of Touchstarved—and I fear if I bring it up again to them I’ll be taken to the gallows

So I’m taking my ranting to the actual fandom and in hopes I’ll be quiet after I actually type out my thoughts <33

SO

Buckle up I’ve got a lot to say

First tho: these rambles do have some spoilers for The Arcana and Last Legacy and of course— the demo for Touchstarved so bE WARNED

Ahem ahem

Ramble number 1 🤺

First off- IM JUST SO GENERALLY HYPED FOR THE FULL STORY

Like I love romance and all— BUT THE ACTUAL PLOT??

It’s just so intriguing to me

I’m so excited to see what the full on plot is going to be—

Like take The Arcana and Last Legacy for example

Us, as MC, are a magician’s apprentice with years of lost memories, tasked with the responsibility of solving the dead count’s death. Doing so in the timeframe of a masquerade that the Devil arcana crashes, presenting his idea of merging realms—with him as ruler.

Then in Last Legacy

We’re a human from earth that gets transported to a recovering magical world that was only a game back home. Come to find out an old evil is slowly resurfacing—

LIKE BOTH ARE SO COOL

So what is the full story of Touchstarved gonna be? ?

I’m assuming it’s a longer game than the previously mentioned, so I just- GAHHHHH

I can’t wait

I also wonder how much of a center piece Touchstarved MC is gonna be

Like what is gonna be our role? Why are we important to the overall plot of the entire game?

We already know why we’re important to our own story—duh. UHH lemme articulate this-

Like MC’s story is clear in the demo, we’re cursed with hands that corrupts whoever we touch—and we’ve come to the dangerous city of Eridia to find a cure. But I can’t WAIT to find out how that ties in with everything else.

Like how does our curse connect us to the LIs? To Eridia? To everything?

How much of a role does MC really play?

Like in Arcana, we aren’t just the one given the job of solving a murder, but we’re also the one with powers that can rival the Devil’s. We’re the Fool Tarot card—the start of the journey.

And in Last Legacy we’re not just the human from earth brought into an unfamiliar world, but also the human that wields a relic that once belonged to the LI’s ‘dead’ friend/captain. (A relic that is later vital in saving the world)

So I’m just— I’m so excited to see why Touchstarved MC is connected to everything. What decisions we’ll be able to make, and why those decisions will lead to either a happy or horrific ending.

I already love these writers—and I love the characters, and I already love the glimpses we have of the start of the plot.

Like the vibe and plot of the story is what really got me INTO touchstarved. (That and the characters are uhhh rlly pretty 👉👈 AND THE ANIMATED INTRO WAS IMMACULATE)

I’m just so hyped to see what the story is—and how the routes are going to end. Will it truly be happy? Will we actually end it by saving whatever evil is corrupting the world? Or will it be a bittersweet end, where it’s only happy because MC and whatever LI they picked—survived and get to be together?

Like we’ll probably solve things- but I just wonder how bittersweet and still tragic the writers will make it—like what if to gain one character’s salvation, we have to doom another? I think I read somewhere where the Devs said our choice of LI will result in consequences for another— AND I THINK THATS JUST SO

Muah muah

My heart will utterly break

Anyway—I’m just really excited for Touchstarved plot—can’t wait, mentally pained that it’s going to be like waiting for my sailor husband to return from sea. but I have faith it’ll be worth it- especially with how much love has already been put into it.

ALR

NOW UNTO RAMBLE 2

Ramble 2 😙

SO SO SO, now unto the romance hype

I’m vry excited for what the romance is gonna be like. Like, I’ve played a few of these games before. Mainly Arcana, Last Legacy, Mystic Messenger, etc.

And usually the romance starts pretty quick, (mainly due to these games being a bit shorter.)

But I wonder how fast or slow the romances are going to be in Touchstarved. Like, Mc is already pretty quickly attracted to the main cast(valid) but I wonder if some routes are going to be quicker than others?

And what are the CONFESSIONS going to be like?

I wonder if some routes will be slower or quicker than others?

Like my personal guesses for the quickest to slowest romance kinda goes like this: Leander, Ais, Kuras, Mhin, Vere

Okie Okie lemme explain my reasonings (I just like to ramble)

Leander feels like the type of character (if he’s not actually just using Mc) that clings, then obsesses over people he likes. And I can picture his romance starting pretty quick— I think the slower bit will be tied to actually getting him to be vulnerable—

Ais is already canon to get attached. So I can see his romance being a bit quicker.

It’s not like I think Kuras’ romance will be quick, but I do think it’ll be possibly quicker than Mhin’s. (Mainly for the scene where he keeps a hold on you when you trip. Especially if you pick ‘Can you step out?’ At the start.)

I am very curious how he’s gonna be in love though- it’s oddly hard for me to picture

Now Mhin—i can picture theirs being slower because they don’t just not want YOU to get hurt, but THEY don’t want to get hurt either.

And now Vere—I can see the physical parts of the romance being able to happen pretty quickly—but for Vere to actually like—develop sincere feelings? That’ll definitely take longer.

I can’t wait for it to happen tho

I also can’t wait for ✨feelings✨ to make drama. Like, what will the Senobium do when/if they find out Vere has like—genuinely fallen for someone 🧍🏻‍♀️ will they use us as leverage?

Will Kuras’ feelings for us make salvation harder to get?

IDKDBDBDNDND I JUST LIKE DRAMA

Alr Alr Alr- I’ll stop there.

HOPEFULLY, this will help me be quiet— because bro i’ve been thinking of Touchstarved nonstop for ages now 😭 my friends can’t take it anymore

Anyway, if you read all that, thank u <3 I hope you enjoyed my nonsensical ramblings.

I hope you have a vry good day, wear ur favorite shirt, smell a rose, and see a butterfly !!

[rachey899]

Storm

So it's been a hot minute! I am still writing!

This is a short from a novel I am currently writing but wanted to flesh out some characters and play with setting, plus this scene had been dancing in my head for weeks and needed to happen now!

The story is about a gang of pirates who steal an important crystal from a Fae village. Skye is sent to stow away on the ship to retrieve the crystal and return home. She is given a crystal fragment to aid her that holds enough glamour to disguise her as a human for thirty days, given she doesn't use magic, or it will drain faster.

However, she didn't account for the possibility of actually liking the crew or falling for their handsome Captain Blaine. Things take a turn when a storm approaches and Skye is forced to either reveal her true form and save the ship or let the crew and the crystal perish at sea.

Approx. 3200 words

A Sword and Skye short story

A Pirate Fairy romance

I stood beside him as he grasped the helm of the Sea Raven, the wind rifled through his dark wavy hair and when he caught my eyes with his deep brown ones he smiled. A warm look that seeped right through me. I fingered the crystal fragment that hung on a chain and rested just below my throat, it didn’t pulse strongly as it had done before, it was weak, I was running out of time.

Sensing my apprehension his expression quickly changed from boyish joy to concern, and that hurt my heart even more.

“What’s with the long face? We’re free thanks to you, cheer up Skye.” Blaine wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into his chest, my head fit perfectly under his chin, I fit perfectly to him, but it wouldn’t stay this way.

“Nothing Blaine, I’m okay just…” I let out a breath, enjoying his encompassing presence. “We are ten days from Crestwind Harbour and I’m not looking forward to the goodbye.”

It was a half truth, I would be saying goodbye to him, my journey ended when we would hit the shore and I would take the large quartz crystal back to my village where it belonged, where I belonged. Though it didn’t really feel like I belonged there anymore, I felt so very comfortable right where I was now, right here with Blaine.

“You know you don’t have to say goodbye right?” He turned me in his arms placing a finger under my chin to tilt my head up to look at him, I wouldn’t cry.

“I know we promised to get you somewhere safe, but we ARE safe, you’d be safe here with us, there’s nothing stopping you.”

Oh, but there was so much stopping me, once he knew who I truly was, he’d drop me like a hot rock, not to mention I HAD to go back home. My village was depending on me to return the crystal that these pirates, my friends, had stolen.

“A pirate’s life is not for me.” I whispered, a small smirk quirking at the corner of my mouth as I played on the words the crew had sung numerous times over the last couple of weeks.

“Respectfully, I disagree.” He quirked an eyebrow and smirked, lowering his face to mine so that our noses were touching, I breathed in the miniscule space left between us.

“There’s nothing respectful about you.” I countered, my smile broadening, teasing.

“Is that so?” He teased back, his hand gliding down my back to my waist before travelling further down and giving my rear a playful pinch. “I suppose my reputation proceeds me.”

Gently I placed my hands on his chest and created a space between our bodies, looking up through the lashes of my eyes, I stood on tip toes to give his nose a kiss.

“Promise me you’ll think about it?” He whispered before leaning down further to plant a kiss to my lips. I kissed him back wondering if it may be the last time I ever get to do that before reluctantly breaking away and stepping back.

“I promise.”

I turned back around then with my back to his chest, soaking in his warmth as his arms raised to take the helm and steer the ship north-east towards our destination. His large hands found mine and he guided them to the wheel, gently applying pressure this way and that, he was showing me how to sail a ship.

I smiled, basking in the joy that he got from sailing, the wind billowing around us, the smell of salt and wood, it did feel like freedom, no wonder he loved this so much. Though I said a pirate’s life was not for me, I didn’t believe that, for once I felt comfortable right where I was and this way of life was so tempting and so exciting, maybe in another life, a life where I was human, this could have been me.

 “CAPTAIN! STORMS BREWIN FROM THE WEST!”

Blain turned in the direction that Malakai had indicated and indeed it was getting quite dark behind us, the clouds overhead were moving in a north-easterly direction and moving fast, the storm would reach us before long.

I peeked over my shoulder to gauge Blaine’s expression, and it had become one of stone and focus, the same way he’d looked at me when I had first been discovered stowed away in the scullery all those weeks ago. Calculating and focused.

“Jasper, take Skye below deck.” He passed me off to Jasper, the older greying man who had found me in his scullery, the cook who strived so hard to make sure the men were well fed and healthy.

“All hands lads! We’re heading due East, there’s a chance the storm could miss us!” Blaine began barking orders, getting the main sail up, his plan was to skirt the edge of the storm, avoiding the eye, there was no time for us to get out of the way before it was on top of us.

I followed Jasper below deck, I made my way to the captain’s quarters where I could see through the window to watch the oncoming storm as energy pulsed in my bones. I wanted to help, I COULD help, this was my affinity after-all, the pulse and energy of a storm coursed through me, I could control it, I could steer it away from us, weaken it.

I could only do all of those things if I revealed that I was in fact not human, a dangerous idea to play with.

I grit my teeth as a particularly aggressive wave rushed up to meet the bow of the ship obscuring my view momentarily, it was gaining on us quickly. Lightening crackled though the violet sky and I could no longer stand silently and watch, the wind changed direction and I could see the eye, there was no outrunning this thing.

I climbed the stairs sloppily cursing the weight of my human body as it flung me into the wooden walls of the ship, there would be a bruise there tomorrow. I pushed the hatch open and stumbled onto the deck. Instantly drenched, the deck was flooded and getting pummeled with rain and wave.

Blaine was barking orders over the roar of the wind and the crew were scrambling about pulling tightly on rigging and pulleys, trying in vain to keep the ship steady and on course. I weaved through them all and headed for the mast, my plan wasn’t a great one but if I could get to the bird’s nest at the top, I could use my last remaining magic to steer the storm away just long enough for us to be clear of it.

No one would see me as I reverted to my Fae form and perhaps, I could hide on the ship unseen until we reached Crestwind Harbour. I tightened the belt around my loosely fitting blouse and grabbed the rigging, pulling myself upwards, this would be much easier if I could just fly up there.

I’d made it halfway up, my plan going well until we were hit with a rogue wave, pushing the ship almost all the way over onto its side, I held on for dear life as gravity pulled my legs from the rope ladder, and I white knuckled the slick rope to prevent me from being thrown into the angry sea that my feet were just brushing.

“SKYE!” Blaine’s voice bellowed out around the storm, shit, I had been hoping he wouldn’t spot me, I closed my eyes as the ship righted itself to a stand and my feet found rope once again. I didn’t look down; I kept my eyes upwards and kept going.

“SKYE!”

Keep going, keep going.

I heaved myself onto the circular platform on the top and raised my arms, not wasting a second more.

Immediately my body felt calm as it was flooded with power, I could no longer tell whether or not the energy was coming from my crystal fragment or from the core of the storm, but I used it.

My body began to glow softly until it reached my fingertips and sharp sparks of power bursts from me, gliding along the wind and amongst the clouds, I giggled with the storm, enjoying the way the waves moved with our synchronized energy. Speaking to the storm as though we were old childhood friends, I understood the storm and the joy that it revered in when its energy manifested in a peak of power.

I then gently reminded the storm that a ship was sailing below them, the storm felt guilt briefly before it assured me that the ship was merely in its way, and it was up to fate as to whether or not the crew on board would survive. I pushed gently and reminded the storm of my own origin and what was being held within the ship.

We came to an agreement and the wind changed direction again, this time away from the Sea Raven and the many souls aboard.

I fell out of the storms consciousness and sank to the wet platform below me, the wind died down, the clouds began to dissipate, and I whispered a thank-you, smiling up at the sky as the last of my power was drained from me. Looking at the sky above I could ignore the fact that the world was growing larger around me, that was until an earthquake caused by a giant’s boot slammed down a mere few inches from my body.

“SKYE!” Blaine’s voice had always been loud and powerful, commanding, but this was something else, I clasped my hands over my ears and rolled away from him, I hoped I may be able to hide under the nearby rope before he spotted me, but I was running out of my quota of luck today.

Getting to my feet my wings buzzed to life, but they were damp and heavy, I began to sprint toward the rope narrowly avoiding another footstep crashing behind me.

“What the-“

I ducked under the rope, breathing heavily and not daring to peek upwards, I’d been spotted, I’d been seen by Blaine himself.

I cursed my stupidity for not finding a more secure and hidden location, but I held no regrets about what I’d done. The storm had been powerful and unforgiving, it would have claimed them had I not intervened.

I clenched my eyes shut as a large and powerful hand extended toward me at an alarming speed. A tear spilling down my cheek as the giant appendages wrapped around my body pinning my arms down. Though, thankfully leaving my wings to hang over his knuckles and buzz uselessly against his thick fingers.

The wind swept past me quickly and I imagine I was being brought up to his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to look, I didn’t want to see him this way.

“Skye?” His voice was lower now, it didn’t rattle my bones but still reverberated the air around me.

I finally opened my eyes and was greeted with the stern and confused face of a man I had been falling in love with. Water beaded down his sun kissed skin, tanned from spending more than half his life at sea, his brown eyes larger than I had ever seen them before, I now noticed had small flecks of a vibrant green through them.

His hair hung wet about his face, dripping and slightly curled at the ends, my eyes then flicked to his lips, two plump cushions wet with sea water that my own lips used to fit so perfectly and now almost spanned the length of my whole body.

“Answer me Skye, what did you do?” His voice now a low growl, I must have missed what he said before, too overwhelmed with our vast differences now and grieving the loss of my friend, now that my true identity was revealed.

“I-I moved it away… t-the storm…” My response was weak, and I cursed my quivering body for making me appear even more pathetic than I felt in that moment.

“Did you bring on the storm?” His eyes were sharp and piercing and my heart fluttered against the tight grip of his fingers.

“W-what!?” I shrieked, he couldn’t possibly think I brought the storm here, that I intended it to kill them, did he truly think I would do something like that, especially since we had become so close?

“Did you conjure the storm?”

I was speechless, now that he’d seen me for who I really am, everything else was washed away, any trust I had gained was gone, my body deflated at the idea, and I tried desperately to convince him otherwise.

“No, Blaine, I swear, I-I moved it away.”

“Here yar captain.” Malakai had climbed up behind Blaine and handed him a small wooden cage, my eyes bugged, he wouldn’t.

Malakai avoided my gaze as he handed off the circular cage to his captain, his expression void of emotion and wrinkled with the lingering nervousness that the close call of the storm brought.

With one hand Blaine pulled out a set of keys from his pants pocket and opened the cage, his other hand then began to move me toward the opening, my legs kicked at his fingers, but he didn’t slow.

“Blaine please! You know me! D-don’t lock me up…” I’d started strong but my voice faded as I was dumped inside, the door closed shut and locked immediately, ignoring anything more I had to say. I curled in on myself and whimpered pitifully, my heart lay in pieces, my body weak and drained of any magic to defend myself and the tears came as freely as the storm had.

The journey to the Captains Quarters was a blur, I ignored the gasps of the crew I’d once called friends, Blaine didn’t say another word as he placed the cage on his desk and then left the room. Presumably to clean up the deck, check for damages and re-set the course that the ship had drifted from.

During that time, I felt my body grow numb with hurt, and finally succumbed to sleep.

When I woke it was dark within the cabin save for the warm glow from an oil lantern on Blaine’s desk, looking around, it didn’t take me long to find Blaine’s own unconscious form resting on his desk. His head gently laying on its side over crossed arms that were littered with scars, healed from fights long past.

I could almost imagine that nothing had changed, looking at him there, so peaceful in his sleep with his now dry wavy hair gently sweeping his closed eyes. I wanted to reach out and brush his hair from his face gently before pressing a kiss to his forehead and silently wishing him a blissful night sleep, but everything had changed.

Gripping the bars with my hands I wondered how best to play this out, to ensure my own safety, to convince him that I was still me, that I hadn’t meant to deceive him, and that I would need to return home with the crystal they had stolen. Nothing came to mind that would end well for me, so I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I was strong regardless of the cage I was kept in or that my body was drained of magic.

“Blaine!” I yelled, my arms were shaking but I willed them to still, I hadn’t played damsel in distress this entire time, I wasn’t about to succumb to that now.

His eyes blinked briefly, lifting his head off the sturdy oak desk his eyes zeroed in on me, narrowing in distrust.

“Your awake.” He stated, voice scratchy from sleep.

“We need to talk.” I said sternly, his glower deepened, and I almost lost my nerve again but took another deep breath and steadied myself.

“Let’s start with the real reason you stowed away on my ship.” He countered, I had been prepared to answer questions, and I was going to be truthful with him this time, he deserved that much, even if it cost me my life.

I explained all the events that had led me to where I was standing right now, why the village had sent a scavenger to sneak onto the dreaded Sea Raven, why the crystal was so important to us and why it needed to be returned. I explained about the glamour in the crystal fragment that I wore, and how the magic within it had been drained in my attempt to save the ship.

I hadn’t meant to grow attached to the crew or to Blaine, I hadn’t wanted to lie about any of it, now more than anything I wanted to make things right for everyone.

“I wanted to tell you Blaine, but I was in too deep, and I didn’t know how to dig myself out.”

“Why should I believe anything you say, you’ve been lying to us since day one.” He growled, he didn’t seem as angry anymore though, only hurt seemed to be swimming in his eyes now.

“You have no reason to, I just want to do the right thing, I care about the crew, I know they need the money you’ll get from the crystal, but I also know my village depends on this crystal to protect us. Without it we are vulnerable…” Exactly like how I was feeling right now, but I continued.

“And I care about you.” I said softly, my eyes met his and he looked away. “When you asked me to stay, I wanted to, I made a promise to you, but I also made a promise to my people, and they are depending on me. I don’t know what to do Blaine.”

He closed his eyes, head still turned away from me and he took a deep breath as if giving himself the strength to speak.

“I can’t return that crystal.” He said finally after what felt like a lifetime of silence. “But we can return you home.”

I let out a sigh of relief, that was more mercy than I had been expecting, I decided to push my dwindling luck a little further.

“What if we trade you something more valuable?” His interest peaked then, and he lowered his face closer to my cage, causing me to take a few steps backwards.

“Like what?” He challenged.

“We have lived on that island for centuries, collected treasures from kings and queens, lost fortunes that wash up or have been gifted to us, a treasure more valuable than any crystal could provide for you.” I smiled then as his eyes lit up with intrigue, contemplating.

“I’ll think about it.” He said, almost teasing me with the words I had said to him only a few hours before everything had gone wrong.

He hesitated only briefly before opening the door to the cage and allowing me to step out onto the desk. He held a hand before me, his index finger extended toward me, a peace offering, a deal.

“Promise?” I said, my hand grasping the tip of his finger as he gently shook my hand.

 His soft smile was all I needed to know that things could be healed between us, perhaps I really could make things right, the crew would get the money they needed, and my village would get our crystal returned.

There was a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he solidified our deal.

“Promise.”

[ha1taniwh0re]

The 8th Princess of Sea

Information about story here

I thought that being a princess is hard, well it is but not for me. Everyone knew that King Triton had 7 daughters and he loved them truly. The thing people didn't remember was that there was 8 of us. Of course they knew about me but because of my shy personality they forgot about me really quick when I left the town. I decided to live with our aunt Ursula who wasn't like our father. Ursula was a sea witch, evil but she has her soft side too.

I always loved to hear about people who lives on land. My aunt knew more about evil people than good, well I can understand that. She would tell me about The Evil Queen, Cinderella's stepmother and stepsister, Maleficent and other evil people but one villain caught my attention. Rumpelstiltskin.

I just got to a new town where I will have concert. We will stay here for 4 days. It wasn't big but had people who will see my performance.

"Hey Lisa you have time for yourself you can go eat or something and come to Granny's inn at 6 to start preparing for concert alright?" My manager said.

I just nodded and went to look around. I didn't knew where is a restaurant or something so I went to a Mr. Gold's pawnbroker to ask if he can show me where I can eat. When I went inside of the shop I saw that this shop had everything. I was looking around and saw a necklace, purple necklace that had a shell with purple pearl inside. It looked beautiful.

"You have a good eye" a Voice said.

I looked to the direction where the voice came from and saw a older man with brown-gray hair and brown eyes. Surly opposite of me. I smiled at the man.

"What can you say about that necklace?" I asked

"Well I know nothing about it as if you meant if it has a story. People would say that it belonged to mermaid, a really powerful mermaid that had pink pearl but darkness in her heart made it purple" a man said.

"A mermaid? What an interesting story" I said and chuckled.

"How much do you want for it?" I asked

"Free"

"Really?? But why?"

"You look like a mermaid who would sing to sailors and than eat them after dragging them in deep ocean" a man said.

I smiled at him again.

"Than I will wear it tonight, be careful maybe I will drag you somewhere tonight Mr. Gold" I said and left a man in his shop.

When I left I released I didn't ask where is a restaurant but it doesn't matter because after just 10 minutes I found dinner. Granny's dinner. I went inside and ordered a salad.

"A salad?? And I have to believe you will drag me somewhere tonight my mermaid??" A familiar voice said.

I looked up from my phone and saw Mr Gold laying on his cane and watching me with his brown eyes.

"Im not allowed to eat anything else before concert, but don't worry I will have a strength to do whatever I want" I smirked.

Mr Gold smirked at me too and just sat opposite of me.

"You know it's surly not well mannered to left someone without giving them your name"

"Lisa, Lisa Yamanaka"

"Not very mermaid name" a man said and we both laughed.

He was quite handsome man but also much older than me. Also Im here only for 4 days but also who said I can't have some fun before I leave. I looked at the man with a passion in my eyes, I got my salad ready to go but I didn't want to. I paid a salad. I saw that Mr Gold's tie wasn't good so I came closer to him our lips were only a few centimeters away. He looked at my lips and I looked at his. I fixed his tie and just went out of dinner leaving him alone. I came back to Granny's inn and started preparing for my concert. When concert started I saw a special part in crowd for mayor, her son and Mr Gold??? Why is he next to her? Are they married?? My concert went well and my manager called me to meet someone. Mayor, her child and Mr Gold were standing there waiting for me.

"Ah Lisa pleasure to meet you, Im Regina the mayor, this is my son Henry and this is Mr Gold he owns half of the town so he is big part of our town as we can say. I smiled at them and we were talking a little amd than they left when I dressed myself into something more comfy I put my headphones and went out of concert building. I took a cigarette and when I tried to light my lighter it didn't work but when someone gave me his lighter. I looked and saw Mr Gold.

"It's not very healthy to smoke, mermaid" he said

I chuckled and looked at him

"You don't like woman who smokes?" I asked and came closer to him.

"I have never said that", he pulled me closer by my waist so our lips are only a few centimeters away again. I took a cigarette and blow a smoke into his face. He only smirked and I started walking my way.

"What happened to dragging me somewhere, dear?"

"Let's save it for another day grandpaaa" I chuckled and so did he leaving that spot.

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

A/N:New story, comments appreciate

Tag: @bellarkeselection <3

[eyeless-jeff666]

Midnight Ball

Last one I think but these song live in my head rent free Tsunagu's car breaks down and he enters a mysterious mansion to ask for help Slight Angst, fluff, happy ending, mysterious, surreal, short, based on a song Word Count: 631

Tsunagu felt cold and lost; he was tired already from a week of his job taking up all of his strength, and now his car had broken down in the middle of nowhere; quite the beautiful nowhere, somewhere in the mountains with a clear view of the deep sea despite the dark of the night. He didn’t have tools to fix it either and no phone connections to call anyone. His gaze wandered, to see if maybe he could spot other cars or people, but all he could see were the glistening lights of a mansion not far from where he stood.

‘Surely, someone can help me there.’

He thought to himself as he made his way over to it. It was a beautiful house, luxurious almost, and he certainly felt out of place as he knocked. A butler opened him, his gaze not quite meeting Tsunagu’s eyes; dull blue pupils and he figured that the man must have been blind. A myriad of voices sounded from inside, and with an overly polite gesture, he was invited to enter. A shiver ran down his spine as he followed the invitation. To say he was underdressed would be an understatement, his eyes widening as he looked around at all the people, in gorgeous dresses and suits and anything in between, sparkling in beautiful colors that made his heart beat higher. He could have only dreamed of making clothes this gorgeous, and as people began to chat with him and offer him champagne, he quickly forgot the reason he’d come.

Some of the guests seemed familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but everyone was incredibly kind. He drank and danced, eventually catching his own gaze in a mirror; coming to a halt as he saw nobody but himself in it. And the shiver he’d felt earlier returned. Something told him that looking back at the guests would show him some nightmarish horror, but as he turned his head, nothing about them had changed. Despite the good time he’d had, he now wanted to leave.

Just as he was about to step back outside through the heavy doors, the butler stood in his way, and shook his head:

“Everyone may enter the midnight ball. But nobody may leave.”

He said, and a warm hand immediately calmed the cold fearful pit in Tsunagu’s stomach; he knew that feeling. Knew the way the person behind him was breathing. Knew the chuckle he heard.

“Shinya?”

His voice was nothing more than a whisper and he was almost too scared to turn around. But truly; before him stood none other than his husband who had passed away two years before. In a gorgeous suit, his hair done as always, half up the way he’d always worn in for formal events.

“Am I-“

The blonde started, but the other just took his hands and neither of them cared about the sound of the door falling shut:

“Yes. All of us are.”

Shinya said, his voice soft and calm as if it wasn’t anything to be worried about. And so Tsunagu chose not to be, and held his husband’s face instead, kissing him a million times to verify he wasn’t simply dreaming; the only tears shed on the pure joy of seeing him again.

“Let’s get you something fancier to wear, Tsu. I know you will just love the options you have.”

With that, the two disappeared back into the crowd filling the mansion, and he couldn’t help but wonder about everyone he was leaving behind in the realm of the living.

‘They will be fine without me.’

That was his last thought before his undivided attention and mind went back to Shinya, where it belonged and where it would stay until the end of time.

[fizzydreamz]

Have Faith

•All Characters belong to •FizzyDreamz•

This as been rotting in my drafts for months lol SO HERE YOU GO.

CW: None

“Do you think the gods have forsaken us, Azriel?” Anatole asked, adjusting the silk veil covering over his head.

The younger man shook his head and turned to admire the stained glass windows. They were colored a deep shade of blue and light salmon with a mixture of turquoise. In the middle of all the colors was a figure surrounded by different kinds of fish. They wore flowy light blue clothing and a golden headpiece. That figure was Neptune, the goddess of the sea.

“I believe that somewhere..the gods are still with us.” Azriel continued. “In fact, I believe they are closer than we realize.”

“…I doubt that.” Anatole scoffed. “They abandoned us centuries ago and expected us to fend for ourselves while they stayed safe in the Heavenly Realm.” He gestured to his friend’s forearm. “I mean, look at what one of those creatures did to you. Almost tore it to shreds and the gods did nothing to stop it.”

“Ah yes..it is unfortunate what happen to me.” Azriel sighed heavily while pulling back his white sleeve. Harsh scarring covered his forearm from top to bottom. “Even though such an event did occur, I have no right to blame the gods on any of it.”

“…you really are too open-hearted for this world.”

“There are enough people in this world who rebel against the gods. We were chosen to protect their temples from humanities wrath and blood-lust. We are not allowed to, by any chance, become like them.”

Anatole turned away as the room fell cold with silence. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Azriel admitted to one thing that mildly shocked him.

“Yesterday, when I was coming back from an exorcism appointment, I walked by a younger fellow. He couldn’t have been much younger than I. However, when we crossed paths I felt an odd sense of peace. It was truly incredible. So, I spoke out to him and we met eye to eye..and when I tell you his eyes were the most beautiful I had ever seen..it was almost as if I could have gotten lost in them like the deepest part of the ocean..”

“..Are you implying that you might have..?”

“I might have come across with a holy deity, possibly? Nothing is ever impossible in the world we live in.”

@sakka-kyuu @captain-liminal @naptuning @xevcrowe and anyone else

[lizzybeth1986]

Hana Lee: Character Playlist

Since Day 1 of HLAW is dedicated to her love for music, what better way to get the ball rolling than with a playlist! Hana's journey involves many varied facets and tangents, so I used those as rubric to choose my songs. Many of these focus on her emotional journey and what she loves to do. Because of her love for composing, I've included some instrumental numbers as well.

You can find the playlist here on Spotify too! (Not in the order I'd laid out here)

Self-discovery

"Unwritten" - Natasha Bedingfield

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

Resilience

"Soft to Be Strong" - MARINA

And I made myself believe

Other people wanted to hurt me

I took my bitterness and made it sweet

I took a broken heart and made it beat

Perfectionism and Letting Go

"What Else Can I Do?" - Diane Guerrero and Stephanie Beatriz (Enchanto OST)

What can you do when you are deeply, madly, truly in the moment?

(Seize the moment, keep goin')

What can you do when you know who you wanna be is imperfect?

Belonging

"Home Again" - Micheal Kiwanuka

Home again

Home again

One day I know

I'll feel home again

Born again

Born again

One day I know

I'll feel strong again

Friendship and Comfort

"Chiquitita" - ABBA

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you

Let me hear you sing once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

"Dante's Prayer" - Loreena McKennit

When the dawn seemed forever lost

You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean

Cast your soul to the sea

When the dark night seems endless

Please remember me

Beauty of Nature

"The Evening Primrose" - Shanghai Restoration Project, Zhang Le (original by Li Xianglan, translation here)

我愛這夜色茫茫

I love this dark and misty night

也愛這夜鶯歌唱

And also love the nightingale’s singing

更愛那花一般的夢

I love even more of the flower-like dream

擁抱著夜來香

I embrace the night jasmine

聞著夜來香

I smell the night jasmine/evening primrose/tuberose

Loneliness and Dreams

"Her Morning Elegance" - Oren Lavie

Sun been down for days

A winter melody she plays

The thunder makes her contemplate

She hears a noise behind the gate

Perhaps a letter with a dove

Perhaps a stranger she could love

Romance

"How High The Moon" - Ella Fitzgerald

Somewhere there's music

It's where you are

Somewhere there's heaven

How near, how far

The darkest night would shine

If you would come to me soon

Until you will, how still my heart

How high the moon

Flowers/Desire

"Flower" - Johny Stimson

All I see are tulips and

I'm a hummingbird

Heavenly ambrosia in every curve

Honey dripping over my imagination

The fragrance

keeps flowing straight down to my soul

WLW

"Honey" - Kehlani

I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet

A little selfish

I like my women like I like my money, green

A little jealous

'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny

Oh, I'm a heartbreak vet

With a stone-cold neck, yeah, I'm charmin'

Freedom

"Open Book" - Mikey McCleary ft. Mauli Dave

I guess my life's open book

Anyone can take a look

No secrets here to hide; this is just me

Holidays, they come and go

Feelings change, people grow

And all I know is I like being free

Instrumental Delights

"Plum Blossom in Three Movements" (classical Chinese composition)

"Comptine d’un autre été : L’Après-midi" - Yann Tiersen

"Spring Waltz" - Chopin

"Song of Joy” (a jiāngnán sīzhú - 江南丝竹 - composition)

"A Celtic Lore" - Adrien von Ziegler

Note: Big credit to @cassiopeiacorvus who introduced me to both Enchanto and "What Else Can I Do?" 😁 That was one of the most Hana songs I've ever heard!

[thedarkmaidenn]

A card a day for 2023

Oracle Card: 3/365 - Magic (upright, the medicine doesn’t apply, unless of course it speaks to you)

Deck Used: The Mystical Shaman Oracle Deck by Collette Baron Reid

The longer I live, the more I believe, that we’re meant to spend our adulthood finding our way back to our inner child again. Somewhere along the way, between growing up and turning 18, we’re robbed of the gift of believing in magic. Magic is silly, fake and phony. We are told to leave our magic behind in our childhood, and often I wonder; is this where it all goes wrong?

I’ve always been drawn to the craft, curious about the Gods and thirsty for the Goddess. It took me a while to explore this part of me, this longing, this call home. I didn’t want to be seen as an imposter, I didn’t want to be seen as silly, I didn’t want to be seen as crazy.. for believing in magic. In the beginning, when the Goddess first knocked on my door, I never thought myself worthy to follow the path of a witch. At that time, witchcraft was starting to take off again, and this upset a lot of people online. I assume that’s because they take what they do seriously, and they know the true depths of what it means to be a witch. But I think we forget that we were all called by the craft in a similar form or fashion. We all began by answering the call, for some of us it sticks, and if it doesn’t, that’s perfectly okay.

Magic belongs to you. It belongs to me. It belongs to them. It belongs to us. Magic is the Earth, the Seas, the Rivers, the trees, the sand, the dirt, the breeze, the bugs, the birds, the sun setting, the full moon rising, the breath of life taken by a new born, the last breath taken by death, it is the reason why we exist.

Magic isn’t necessarily a flick of a magical wand, though if you wanted it to be, it is so. Magic isn’t evil, dark or of the devil. Magic isn’t a silly fantasy or a fictional story. Magic is in the air, in our lungs, beneath our feet and in our heart. A lot of magic cannot be seen, but rather felt instead.

Magic exists all around you, and you activate it when you believe in it. Have you let yourself truly believe in magic? Or are you shackled by the lie that magic isn’t possible?

Build a fort of blankets, hang string lights, invite the Fairies to join you. Talk to them like they are real, like they are there. Talk to them like a friend and really believe that you are not alone. Let your inner child surface once more. Allow your inner child to bask in the fantasy we were taught doesn’t exist, but really does exist all around us. Let yourself feel silly without shame. Let yourself be human. Let yourself be present. Let yourself find magic again.

[talyns-fanfics]

Listen to Your Heart

Kingdom Hearts: Melody of Memory

Vanitas x Princess of Heart!reader

Sora + reader

Part 5 of Anywhere. Continues after Somewhere Only We Know.

Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile. The precious moments are all lost in the tide. They're swept away and nothing is what is seems. The feeling of belonging to your dreams…

Warnings: starts angsty (happy ending)

Vanitas’ Princess, feeling guilty, starts searching her heart for Sora’s whereabouts.

Y/N opens her eyes, seeing herself back at The Final World. She walks around for a bit before her head starts to hurt again. She closes her eyes, feeling an old memory return.

————————————————————————

Sometime after Vanitas had found refuge in Y/N’s heart, she was visiting Radiant Garden. She was being chased by shadow monsters. She runs to the castle, but the gates were locked. She struggles to open it. She turns around, seeing a man in a lab coat walking towards her. She passes out as he grabs her.

She wakes up in a dimly lit room. She hears the man’s voice.

This world will be engulfed in darkness--everything you care about and everyone you love. If you truly possess the power of a princess of heart, your heart will resonate with a Keyblade wielder's, and I believe you can lead me to that wielder's world. That is the only possible way to save ours. You see, this is more than an experiment--it's hope. Like most, you probably believe that nothing exists outside of this world you live in. And yet, there are countless other worlds. You can see them sparkle brilliantly in the night sky. Through that sea of stars, fate will guide your ship to where you are meant to be.

She watches as he presses a few buttons on a device, the hatch of a pod closing her in as he continues talking.

However, if you arrive in a world that's neither of light nor darkness, but somewhere on the other side, your task will be far from easy. If that happens, you must abandon your search--we have failed.

She falls into a sleep as the pod takes her into another world. She didn’t meet up with another keyblade weirder, but she was protected by the keyblade wielder in her heart.

————————————————————————

The memory ended and Y/N opens her eyes. A crystalline red star was floating in front of her. As she reached for it, the pieces shatter. She was able to grab one before running after the others.

————————————————————————

She was able to retrieve 6 more shards. She feels that someone is watching her. She turns around, seeing a black coat. “Who are you? Show yourself.” She basically demanded. The hood is pulled down, showing Master Xehanort.

She summons Vanitas’ keyblade as Xehanort lifts his hand. “Not so fast, child.” He tells her. She glared at him. “You're the one who keeps messing with my fate. If it weren't for everything that you've done, then Sora and his friends would been fine.” She spat out in anger. “Even if you're not really here and this is just a memory or illusion... I won't let you walk away!” “You're right.” Xehanort responds.

“I set you adrift in another world and drastically altered the course of your fate. In the end you were destroyed by my hand, paving the way for Sora's disappearance.” He explains before the two were thrown into a fight. She swings at him a few times, only for him to easily dodge. He catches the keyblade in his hand, lifting her off the ground.

“For the princess of The Lost Kingdom, you’ve become quite the keyblade wielder.” Xehanort backhandedly compliments her. “The masked boy had trained you well. Even allowed you his own blade.” The keyblade vanishes as Xehanort flies up into the sky. Summoning the keyblade, she follows. Xehanort grabs her by the wrist, catching the keyblade in his other hand.

“This world was created by the memories of others that reside in your heart.” Xehanort explains to her. “You seek clues to Sora’s whereabouts by using everyone’s memories of him. To search through the pieces of their hearts that found their way into your own.” He pulls her forward as he continues. “But there’s nothing for you to find here. I’m afraid the answer you seek lies in your own memories. Too bad that the one you need is long gone.” The keyblade disappears again as Xehanort float down to the ground.

Y/N summons the blade again, following him. “I see why Vanitas hated you so much!” She yells at Xehanort. He keeps dodging her attacks until he summons his own keyblade, blocking her. With one swing, she was sent to the floor. Vanitas’ keyblade vanishes as Y/N stuggles to sit up.

Xehanort walks up to her, lifting his keyblade. He swings at her, but she feels her hand being lifted up and another keyblade appears in her hand. She looks up, noticing Sora’s keyblade. Xehanort steps back. “Ah, look who joined us.”

————————————————————————

Another shard flies out of Xehanort and Sora grabs it. “Thank you, Sora.” She holds the shard close to her heart, closing her eyes. She smiles to herself.

“On the day that I sent you out from your world...” Xehanort started, making her eyes fly open. “Do you remember what it is I said to you? Those words hold the answer you seek. I may cause you and the one you hold dear to suffer, but I am a product of your hearts. For that reason, I shall give you your answer.” He starts glitching out in front of her, changing form…

Xemnas, the leader of Organization XIII,

Ansem, the Seeker of Darkness,

Xehanort’s walking heart,

Apprentice X…

“Before, when my heart and body were still united as one, I told you about what would happen if we were to fail.”

If you arrive in a world that's neither light nor darkness but somewhere on the other side, your task will be far from easy.

“That is the answer I have for you…” He vanishes, leaving Y/N alone. She hears a voice coming from the completed star. “Please, wake up.” Vanitas…

————————————————————————

Y/N blinks her eyes open. She looks around, seeing she’s in a lab. Looking over to the side, she sees Vanitas kneeling next to her, head bowed. He was holding her hand in both of his. She gently squeezes his hand, letting him know she was awake. He looks up, seeing her softly smile at him. The two pulled each other into a hug.

————————————————————————

A plan was discussed between Y/N, Ansem, the apprentices, Riku, and The Fairy Godmother.They found where Sora was and Riku was sent to that side of reality. Y/N and Vanitas had left for The Land of Departure to help Terra, Aqua, and Ventus on their journey.

[crystals-clearing]

so many little things...

rn, i'm feeling grateful for that third check in on my third pari meeting, and answering so honestly and gratefully, that i feel this sense of belonging, and that i'm learning from my pari ancestors, and that i feel... gud. and i said it with my sighing breath and my open arms in this big comfy hoodie. i felt enuf, i felt held, and i've made it somewhere safe. i've made it onboard and i'm so happy to be amongst my beautiful n kooky crewmates. where else wud i want to be... truly!

also the discussion points abt the lumbung publication ah... rainer's zine making skills, emma c and i mayb being funded to go to jakarta in october... if this grant is successful i will prob cry of happiness for a week idek... it will give me sm life. these things.. they remind me that i have a future, a future is there if i'm willing to take it. but i'm also glad of what i've chosen in this big bountiful sea. there are so many rifts that could've taken me away from where i am. but i'm following the current of mi heart... the current of lurrrrv <3 gahhh i'm feeling things. just feeling this moment. mm

[bbnibini]

six: dearest leviathan

"A friend is loving at all times, and becomes a brother in times of trouble."-Proverbs 17:17

Time is an oxymoron. It is both constant and spontaneous, tedious yet fast-paced; Samael had almost lost his sense of it after being inside the darkness for too long. Father was a nagging reminder of it; telling Him stories of the mortal realm and His own private musings, ones He couldn't share with anyone else. The minute imperfections of His creations; the many souls he had shared drinks with as they lament on the memories they no longer had; His endless worries of being put on a pedestal. Though unlike before, it didn't feel like he was a mere listener to His ramblings, but rather, a sympathetic foil.

"I'm happy you're back, Samael." 

“It’s nice to see you again too, El.”

He could feel something growing emptier every dinner they had together; a wall, a barricade–something that had formed as early as the times He had stopped treating him like His own child, but His equal. He will never be like Him. He could not watch over everyone with parental fondness and ever call his own creations his Family if he can never truly be himself around them. He couldn’t smile the way El did as He watched over the mortals, living a life He could not have for Himself. So every time El asked him,

“Why not build a Kingdom of your own?” He did not only feel betrayed but also conflicted. Was he never a part of His kingdom after all? Is being like Him the only way he can be himself? Is it the only way he can stay by His side?

But Samael wanted to be a part of something–to feel like he belonged somewhere. And he had found that sense of belongingness, almost ironically, through His own children.  With them, he found a friend–an equal, but an equal who expected nothing of him and accepted him for he who was. Unlike…

“Is something wrong, Samael?” The First Angel shook his head and placed his utensils on his plate, washing down his meal with aged nectar. 

“Thank you for the lovely meal, El. I will be on my way.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he couldn’t see El at all.

The distance He said He had felt from His own image felt closer—almost reaching the heart he felt beating in his chest as he cried in the darkness He had cast away many aeons ago. Lucifer and Lilith and their many siblings brought joy and laughter in his endless days–the Higher Angels, taciturn as they are felt warmer than his distant conversations and pensive dinners with Him. And…he didn’t know what he should do as he had come to realise this himself.

On kinder days, when death came scarcely in the Sea of Souls, he had gotten to meet some of Lucifer and Lilith’s siblings–the gentle and quiet Bael and the playful yet kindhearted Sachiel —-over the Higher Gardens, picking figs and berries, sharing stories and their precious time with him. It was Sachiel who gave him reassuring words as he laid out his palms and offered bread to the messenger doves, telling him it would be fine. He closed his eyes, anticipating the worst and thankfully, had been proven wrong. He remembered Sachiel’s face then as the dove ate from his palm; one filled with pride and joy as he jumped in the air, cheering for him. Then the Virtue wrapped his arms around him as he shouted, “I told, ya! Didn’t I tell ya, Sammie? Ya’d do just fine!” No one ever called him by a nickname before, nor had he seen someone be so happy for him, as if his victories were his own. He met eyes with Lilith, and she leaned on his ear as she whispered, “Sorry, Samael. Mammon can be a little loud.” 

But he didn’t mind. Even the letters he exchanged with Lilith’s brothers from the Middle and Lower Hemispheres always brought joy to his days. Ashmedaiel seemed optimistic and thoughtful, writing to him pages and pages of letters of the cherubs he took care of as a Dominion. “Just so you know, I always believed you were real!~” Asmo (he insisted he should call him that) taught him how to make flower crowns, and with every batch of his attempts, he would send him one golden star he claimed to have made with the cherubs. The Dominion gave him the courage to reach out for the flowers he had once only gazed from afar—each tender petal felt so fleeting and fragile as he twisted its stems and formed them into knots. But like Asmo’s many encouraging words had said, they didn’t wilt. Not by his touch, nor by his presence.  

Belfagel also said the same—the archangel had given him a seedling from the human world and dared him to plant it in the Higher Gardens. “Lilith told me you loved flowers. Why don’t you give it a try?” And when it bloomed as he had told him, he wrote another letter with a new batch of seeds and said, “Now, why not  try growing them in your domain?” 

Surprisingly enough, Lucifer did not dismiss such an impossible request—instead, he encouraged it. 

But…he failed. 

And with every failure, Belfagel sent seeds again. "Here's another one. Good luck!" He said.

Lilith would visit him and light a star lantern close to its pot, talking to it as if it were a cherub. The Thrones guarding the gates would offer him suggestions, and the healers gave him insights and gardening advice. During meetings, Metatron would pass him notes on his own botanical theories; Azrael would offer a sympathetic ear as she had understood his role the most. “Life could not exist without death, as light could not be light without darkness.” Michael would roll his eyes and tell everyone to focus on the meeting but would hide a smile behind his folders of documents. And the meeting would conclude with him whispering something in his ear. “I hope it blooms this time, milord.”

There were times when he felt dispirited, he would go to El and ask Him about his Kingdom's first seven days—declining any hints He offered and His advice to use his own powers to create something. He would see Him knotting his eyebrows, not understanding why he was being so stubborn. Even after many explanations, He would only offer the same words.

"You can make it grow if you wanted to,"

And he would stare at the flower pot for hours, looking at his hands, knowing He was right and he could have made things simpler if he wanted to.

But there was that wall he felt again—the clarity that was slowly dawning on him as he had come to know El more over the years; El had never spoken the word that seemed so commonplace in his everydays—and as he grazed his fingers over the soil and stared at the darkness surrounding him, it also seemed to seep into his heart.

"Samael?"

He turned his head to see Lilith sitting next to him near the flower pot. "My classes just ended, how are you doing?"

"...it still won't grow."

Lilith let out a long hm as she looked at the pot with a pout on her lips, "Have you tried singing to it?"

"Singing?"

Lilith nodded. "You have a beautiful voice. Maybe if it hears you, it would rouse itself from its sleep. Like songbirds in the mortal realm!"

"My singing isn't anything special."

"Samael."

He turned his head in her direction again, feeling a finger poke on his cheek and hearing her bubbling laughter. "You fell for it!" He remembered Sachiel doing the same to her and her other brothers when they were distracted. "Why don't we try it? If it can grow in the Higher Gardens, it can certainly grow here," 

Her confidence had never failed to impress him—he recalled the first song he heard El sing to him when he was younger, and hummed its first notes. His voice echoed within his domain with the sound of crashing waves accompanying it. 

"...do you really think that would work?"

He felt Lilith staring at him when he opened his eyes again. Somehow, it made him feel embarrassed. He stuttered out his next words. "...it isn't as good as Father's song...right?"

He heard her gasp as she shook her head at him, turning her attention to the flower pot., "It's beautiful."

So he started singing to it every day. Sometimes of Father’s song, other times of songs Asmo had written him—hymns from the mortal realm, a mother’s lullaby, a lover’s ballad. Lilith had always appreciated his songs, and sometimes even sang with him during her visits. 

.

.

.

.

.

Until one day…it finally bloomed. 

Moonlight white, unlike Devildom's eternal nights. He sent a pressed one to Belfagel and received a letter back:

'You did it! What did I tell you?'

… and also received earthly knowledge from him about the flowers he had grown: the mortals called it a Dianthus, and considered it a flower of luck and happiness when it's white. It was also a flower of mourning, symbolising eternal devotion to the departed. He wished he knew what it meant when he gave the rest of the pot to Lilith, but when he told her this, adamant to have it back so he can give her something else, she only smiled at him and said she didn't mind. Somehow, she had even convinced him to plant more. 

"These somehow remind me of you, and when you think about it, doesn't it suit your domain?"

A flower for the departed; so that they may know they are not forgotten. He looked at the flower he had in his hands and finally smiled, 

"I guess you're right."

Samael must have heard it in the distance—a sound that brought him back to the beginning. He saw himself there, tiny and inconsolable as he was, pained by a heavy and burning sensation in his chest. A god unable to control his own powers, and had to rely on another one’s guidance to lighten the burden of his newfound heart. Only that, when he opened his eyes again, he realised he was not in his memories, but deep within the Sea of Souls. He could hear Cerberus howling from the surface, calling for him to return. But he only sank deeper and felt a piece of his heart beating in the centre. 

Bdmp.

Bdmp.

Bdmp.

His heartbeat felt louder; the crying as well. He swathed the tiny infant in a blanket of seafoam and carried him in his arms; when they finally felt his warmth, the crying stopped, calmed by their synchronised heartbeats as he went back to the surface. It was when he brought him near a star lantern did he realise who it was. Of his own heartbeat, carrying El’s blessing: someone neither light nor darkness, beloved by the sea. But he did not wish to burden him with the duties he was pretending not to carry, so he did not give him a part of his name. 

The baby cooed as he wrapped his little hands on Samael’s finger. “Your name will be Leviathan.” He seemed to be in favour of the name as he saw him smile. Samael’s heart squeezed at the thought that he finally had one: a family.  

“My dearest brother, Leviathan.”

There was much commotion when Heaven heard the news of the First Angel’s brother being born in the Sea of Souls. He was “an adorable little thing”, and the Dominion were fighting for a chance to take care of him. But little Leviathan rarely parted with his older brother and loved the Sea too much to mingle with the angels in the oceanless Middle Hemisphere. Asmo had an unfair privilege perhaps to dote on the babe like his own students (thanks to Lucifer’s influence). Belfagel would take him to the human realm to gaze at the oceans there, and when little Leviathan returned in Samael’s arms, he would feel rough from the dried-up sand and smelled of the sea. 

He cried easily and was a gentle-hearted soul, much like how Samael was as an infant. Little Leviathan loved his older brother too much and was inconsolable when he had to be away from him because of his work. He would thrash and cry and cause the Sea to flood enough to reach the Higher Palace on days he would be away for too long from his brother. When Samael consulted El about this, He could only shake His head and offer His apologies.

“I’m afraid he is beyond My control, Samael. As do you.”

Samael tried to take him to his work, but little Leviathan was terribly shy and always hid inside his cloak when he ferried the souls to the afterlife. He would cry during Seraphim meetings, and bite Asmo’s and Sachiel’s hands when they offered to babysit. He was scared of Lucifer and Beelzebub, incredibly timid around Lilith, and would be inconsolable around the healers and attendants.

Surprisingly, he was a lot calmer when he is at sea. But as he was little and unpredictable, Samael worried about him drowning or hurting himself when he left him alone. Cerberus was a guardian beast, had little mobility in water, and couldn't be with him at all times. So eventually, after pondering it over several dinners with El, he had come to a decision:

“Levi?”

Leviathan looked up at him and tilted his head. 

“Are you okay to be on your own? Brother has to leave for a while.”

He shook his little head and hugged him tightly. “No. Bwother….stay…”

Samael smiled and levelled his deep blue eyes with Leviathan’s golden ones. “Then, how about this? Let’s make you a friend.”

“A fwend?” Little Leviathan blinked. 

“Mhm. A friend is someone you can play with, someone you love and want to be with because you have a lot of fun when you’re with them.”

Understandably, Leviathan’s next question would be, “Wike bwother ?”

“Hmmm…not exactly.” He called upon Cerberus and the three-headed beast approached them, licking Samael’s face. “Do you have fun playing with Cerberus?”

Leviathan nodded, then upon considering his words, shook his head and buried his face in Samael’s chest. “But Cewebus huwt if he swims with me,” Leviathan said and pointed to Cerberus’ flaming tails. “Only bwother and Bewphie swim with me,” Bewphie referring to Lilith’s brother, Belfagel. He considered leaving Leviathan to him, but he was incredibly busy.

“Then, how about a friend like Cerberus but they can swim in the Sea with you?”

Leviathan’s eyes sparkled at his suggestion. “Wow! I have a friend who can swim?” 

Samael had to bite his inner cheek to not smile so much. “Mhm, but I need your help to make your friend.” This would be the last and only time he would influence Leviathan to use his powers, he promised himself. When he saw little Leviathan nod, he walked with him near the shore, enough for the seawater to touch the soles of his feet. Gently, he placed Leviathan down beside him and told him to hold onto the ends of his cloak so he wouldn’t be carried away by the waves.

“You know where your heart is, right? The one Asmo taught you?”

Leviathan nodded and looked up at him, placing his hand on his chest. “Wight here!”

“Good, very good. You’re right. Watch brother closely.”

Samael closed his eyes and remembered the first time he created Cerberus. He listened to his own heartbeat and felt it burning like a flame, taking an ember and placing it on his palm. “Your friend needs a heart so they would have the same one you have here. But they couldn’t grow one alone, so we have to share some of ours with them so they can play with you.”

Leviathan looked at his brother with both devotion and interest, nodding at his every word. When his little self saw his brother bending down so he can have a closer look at his heart, he couldn’t help but think of how beautiful it is. “Bwother make their heart with me?”

Samael nodded and smiled. “Yes, and later after we make him, you must give him a name. Every friend needs a name like Cerberus, right? Can you do that for me?”

Of course! Little Leviathan nodded. He closed his eyes and did what his brother had done, but as he got closer to the flames of his heart, tears started to form in his eyes. He heard his big brother frantically calling his name.

“Please stop if it hurts! It’s okay, big brother can make it on his own!” But Leviathan shook his head. Despite the hurt he felt, he was able to bear it and finally take a portion of his heart, watching its embers flicker once he opened his eyes.

Greeting him when he opened it again was his big brother’s own worried ones; he felt his tall figure embrace him tightly.

“I’m sorry, Levi. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, bwother!” Leviathan answered, oblivious to the crushing fear Samael had felt, and the huge relief in his sighs when he finally let go. “We make our fwend now?”

Samael tried to keep his composure as he nodded at him. “Of course.”

Samael chanted something under his breath, and when Leviathan looked at the ocean again, the waves stopped. The sea looked very still as if time had stopped inside the darkness. Before he could even ask his brother of what happened, Samael told him, “Let’s walk over there together,” and he pointed his hand in the middle of the ocean. “Hold onto brother.”

“Okay…” Leviathan tugged on his cloak and signalled him to start walking. Occasionally, he asked his little brother if he was tired or if they needed to take a break, and when they do, he entertained him with stories of the ocean and asked him about the plant diary he made with Big Sis Wiwih of the Dianthi blooming in the Abyssal Gardens. 

“And it was wed(red) wike Wady Azaweh’s haiw and Wiwih and Cewebus said she would wike it so we gave it to her and she said, ‘ thanku, Wowd Weviathan (Lord Leviathan)!’ and gave me a hug wike Asmo.”

“So she’s not scary anymore?”

“Mhm! She’s weawy nice! She gave me candy!”

“That’s great to hear.” He ruffled Leviathan’s head and heard him giggling as he did so. 

“I feel okay now, bwother. Let’s make my fwend!”

When they finally reached the middle of the sea,  Samael asked Leviathan to place his heart in the centre just like he did and told him to repeat the words he said:

"Creatura maris, Attende vocationem et excipiam a somno. Ego sum dominus tuus et gladio. "

“Come here, Levi. Don’t let go of brother.” Leviathan nodded and let himself be carried in his big brother’s arms. Everything started to move again, and little Leviathan saw the waves thrash from a distance as Samael shielded him from the impact. Then, they heard a piercing shriek—several heads and iridescent scales emerged from the ocean: a sea serpent. 

Leviathan was in awe as the creature swam nearer to them, calling both their names:

Ị̸̋ ̷̘̀h̷͗͜ä̵̠́v̶̫̀e̵͖͘ ̸͇̒ć̶̝o̸͖̾m̷̹̍è̷͈ ̸͉͂å̶̯ṣ̸̒ ̶͎͆ý̶̻o̶̲͌ủ̶̦ ̵̌ͅs̷͇͒u̶͉͆m̵̥̽m̸͎͛o̷̰̐n̷̜̚e̵͗͜d̶̥͑.̸̘͆ ̵̙̈Ḟ̸͍r̴̮̍ó̶̰m̴̢̄ ̸̻́n̶̤͆o̷̻̔w̴̧͠ ̶̗̍ȍ̵̹n̸̜͒,̸͔͘ ̶͕̋I̷͖̿ ̶͍̈́ẉ̴͐ḭ̴͠ḽ̷̆l̴͔̂ ̵̦͛b̷̳̽e̷̹͊ ̴͓̄y̸͓̚o̸͖̓u̸̳͆r̷̜̽ ̸̦̅s̷̤̄ẉ̵̿õ̵͖r̷̳̿d̷͍̆.̵̨̌

“Levi.”

Leviathan looked up at Samael. “Yes, bwother?” 

“It’s safe to go down now. Your new friend still needs a name.”

Leviathan nodded and toddled his way near one of the creature’s heads. As he and his brother had rehearsed, he levelled with the creature and shouted,

“My swowd, you are neither my sewant now are you beneath me/My sword, you are neither my servant nor are you beneath me.

As a token of our fwenship, I wiw name you…/As a token of our friendship, I will name you...

…

.

.

.

.

.

…I wiw name you…” Leviathan turned to Samael nervously and found his courage again when he saw him nod.

He spoke again. “I wiw name you…”

“Wotaaaaan!”

“Levi, watch your–!”

*splash!*

“...step.” Samael heard Lilith giggle as she saw him finally sigh in relief Lotan nestled his little brother in one of its heads. Levi's safe. Thank goodness. The Virtue-in-training was used to his brother’s and Lotan’s antics by now and had been an occasional witness(sometimes victim) to (of) their hijinks. Leviathan was still timid yet temperamental but had been less nervous thanks to his new friend. 

“I’m really glad we summoned Lotan. He seems a lot more confident now.”

“You worry too much,” Lilith laughed again, sipping some aged nectar. “Asmo had been pouting, saying he has now been replaced.”

“We can plan another picnic with them, Lucifer included.” Lilith seemed satisfied with his answer as she sloshed the goblet and took a sip again. "Brother could use a break, yes. I missed us sharing drinks with him." Lilith would usually tear up and cry at the topic of her brother and his self-destructive, workaholic tendencies, so Samael tried to veer the subject in a different direction.

"So, how are your studies?" He stuttered. 

Thankfully, Lillith didn't seem to notice. “I’ve started to take missions in the human world again.”

Which must mean she is almost near the end of her apprenticeship. Once it’s over, she can finally take the entrance exams and see where fate would lead her—hopefully as a Virtue, and eventually a seraph as she had dreamed.

“The humans are really interesting, aren’t they?” Samael didn’t really have a point of reference as he had never been in the mortal realm so he could only nod at her. “If I become a seraph, I want to continue helping them. I don’t want to end up doing boring paperwork like my brother!”

“Father bless Lucifer, lest he bites his tongue.” 

Lilith laughed, hiccuping as she took a sip of air—Samael had safely removed her from her goblet and implored her to wash down her spirits but she had been stubborn. He sighed, hoping Lucifer would come faster. If Leviathan sees Lilith crying, he would surely cry too, and it may cause another flooding in the Higher Palace. Little Leviathan had more control over his powers compared to him when he was around the same age, but he was still a child. 

“Hey, Sammie?” Samael almost spilt his own drink as she mimicked Sachiel’s nickname for him. “Yes, Lilith?” But he chose not to be difficult and humoured her.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure,” He answered thoughtlessly and felt Lilith lean over his ear and whisper,

“I made a friend. A human friend.”

Samael felt his heart beating out of his chest. A friend is not an admirer nor a follower--unlike El's humans who still revered them with considerable distance, a friend is closer. More intimate. More...

One word echoed in his head: He remembered Asmo’s voice, admonishing the cherubs in one of their classes.

“No matter what you do, don’t ever mingle with the humans. Only bad angels won’t listen to me, understand?”

… taboo.

 If Lucifer had been the one to know this, what could have happened to her? 

“His name is *hic!*—er,” She giggled, finally reaching for the goblet of water, drunk enough to think she was drinking liquor. 

“A human friend?” Samael repeated, looking worriedly at Lilith as he asked her, “Where did you meet him?”

He heard Leviathan’s laughter from afar—and the waves crashing as he and Lotan swam in the ocean together. 

But Lilith didn’t answer him. Instead, she drank from her goblet again and hiccuped, saying the human’s name.

“His name is C–*hic!*

.

.

.

.

Christopher.”

Reference for the Demon Brothers'/Lilith's  Birth Names/Angel Names :

Lucifer/Satan - Helel Mammon - Sachiel Asmodeus- Ashmedaiel Beelzebub - Bael*** (see note 1) Belphegor - Belfagel Lilith- Liliatuel Leviathan - none*** (see note 2)

note 1:  please go here for an explanation. Password can be accessed here if you don't mind spoilers.

note 2:  Leviathan is considered as the First Angel's only brother, therefore exists outside of the hierarchy as well. 

"We finally meet him: Little Leviathan and the sea serpent, Lotan. . . . . . . . . . you don't seem happy with the snacks I prepared. Ah. You must have felt it. Nathan had made his choice. I'm not surprised he would be so reckless, but that is what would happen if one had earned a cursed prophecy. . . . . Do you think he would really die this time?" . . . . . "No way, are you really asleep?!"

🌼masterlist 🌼next chapter

[onceandfuturewarlqck]

merlin magic reveal analysis

"I am a sorcerer, I have magic… and I use it for you Arthur, only for you."

I was thinking about this (as i often find myself doing of lately) and something i have already mentioned somewhere but never deeply explored is the deeper meaning behind Merlin's words.

in the episode, Balinor appears to Merlin when everything seems lost, and he tells him the truth about him: he is not only a magic haver, he is magic itself.

Merlin, you are more than a son of you father. You are son of the earth, the sea, the sky, magic is the fabric of this world, and you were born of that magic. You are magic itself. You cannot lose what you are.

without dwelling right now about how inspiring and beautiful the message itself is (maybe ill write an in-depth analysis on that later on), it is known that Merlin IS magic. he doesn't simply have magic, he isnt only born with magic, he is magic. Merlin is a part of the essence that magic is, a being of nature, in a way just like a mystical creature. he is both human (he has human parents, he is made of flesh and bones and blood, he was born like a normal child) and magical.

magic, the same magic that is the fabric of the world, gave birth to itself under the form of a boy - Merlin.

so. Merlin is magic. and magic is Merlin.

and, when he confesses to Arthur that he is a warlock, that he has been using magic for years, he knows this. he knows that Merlin and magic are synonym.

and thats why his confession of magic is also something deeper. when Merlin tells Arthur that he has magic, and that he uses it only for him, he is not just admitting of his powers.

he is giving himself to Arthur.

by saying that Merlin's magic is only Arthur's, he is saying that Merlin himself is Arthur's. Merlin whole existence belongs to him, is his. I have my reasons to believe that, if the circumstances were different and Arthur had discovered about Merlin's magic in a different way, Merlin would rather die than leave Arthur's side. even if Arthur exiled him, Merlin would either stubbornly refuse to go, or find another way to stay.

because Merlin's magic, without Arthur, has no reason to exist - and so Merlin himself.

Merlin, in this scene, is baring himself to Arthur, he is saying "I am yours. everything i am, my very soul, my very essence, has always been yours, and always will be. i use magic only for you, and magic is me, we are the same."

and what does Arthur replies to his admission? he orders Merlin to leave him.

he rejects him. even if Arthur has every right, at this point, of feeling confused and not knowing how to act (and I think that Arthur sends him away also because he doesnt want to hurt him, or do and say anything he might regret later, but he needs time, to process everything that happened), he rejects Merlin.

and Merlin's face is the most heartbreaking thing ever.

he is confused. Merlin. he is confused because Arthur told him to leave him. he is hurt because Merlin just told him that everything he is belongs to Arthur, that he is Arthur's, and, even if he knew that it would have not been taken easily, he is still hurt and upset and confused.

that's what breaks my heart the most. because by rejecting his magic (first by saying that Merlin cannot have magic, he would know, and then by telling him to leave), Arthur is rejecting him. he is not simply rejecting a part of Merlin, he is rejecting everything Merlin is.

if Merlin is magic, and Arthur rejects magic, then Arthur is rejecting Merlin as well.

not that Arthur knows the extent of what Merlin says, and this is the real tragedy, because we know, and Merlin knows, but Arthur doesnt. Arthur doesnt know everything Merlin did for him, he doesn't know what Merlin's confession truly is (one could say that it's a love confession, whether you call it romantical or not, it's a confession of love and loyalty, as Merlin is giving all of himself to Arthur).

Arthur spent ten years without knowing just how much Merlin gave him and, when Merlin tells him, Arthur doesn't completely get it, he doesn't know.

"I thought I knew you."

"I'm still the same person.

this part is important as well, because Arthur tells Merlin that he thought he knew him - he thought he knew what he was. and Merlin answers by saying that he is still the same person. because he is.

just as Merlin is magic, magic is also Merlin. it's not another part of him. it's him, and even if Arthur didnt know that Merlin is the most powerful sorcerer alive and Emrys and all that, even if Arthur didnt know what Merlin did, Arthur still knew (and knows) Merlin.

but the depth of it all is lost in translation. Arthur is dying, and won't ever know about everything. Merlin is trying to save him, but he knows that he can't make it. they dont have the time to understand each other, not anymore.

[clairecrive]

hiii! um i had a request if that’s alright? umm a darkling x tidemaker!reader where the reader slowly grows more and more jealous of alina until she finally snaps and tries to leave with another tidemaker to train with master tidemakers for the kings army but then darkling stops her. with a happy ending please 🥺🥺

Where your heart is

A/n; this took a life of its own but I'm still not too sure about it even though I had lots of fun writing it. Hope you'll like it, 🌻x

Word count: 2.4K +

Warnings: angst, darklina, jelousy

Tags: @blackst0nes7077 , @thefictionalgemini , @louweasleymalfoy , @jupiterandbutterflies , @for-bebbanburg , @tarkanelima-blog , @pansysgirlfriend , @acciorudolphx , @kaqua , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @deardiarystuff, @emmaev , @aleksanderwh0r3 , @hazelrose14, @crowssixof , @qhbr2013 , @odetostep , @strawb3rrydr3ss , @lizzie-he4rts , @korol-lantsov , @shadow4ndbone, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @mriddlemethis , @secretsthathauntus , @carnationworld (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

He was her mentor. He was the only one who could help her through the discovery and understanding of her powers. That's why he was spending so much time with her. No other reason.

At least that's what you've been telling yourself over and over in hope that you'd start believing it. So far, you had no success. And this had been going on since the day Alina had arrived at the Little Palace a month ago so you didn't harbour any hopes that it'll start working.

But what could you do?

He was spending every waking moment between his War room and the training grounds with Alina. You could see the allure that she had to have in his eyes.

He had been waiting for her for a long time, after all. You couldn't even be mad at him for investing his energies to help her harness her powers since she was the key to Ravka freedom. And, to be fair, Alina wasn't that bad.

Sure, you had to get through many layers of snarky remarks and dry humour that most of the times felt a lot like rudeness rather than humour. But she wasn't that bad. Not when there were people like Zoya walking around.

But the days without seeing him, with just a passing glance or a touch of his hand on your back were taking their toll on you. You missed him.

You had gone from seeing him every day to not seeing him at all.

You had tried to talk to him about it but he.was.always.busy. Or with Alina. You weren't proud to admit it, and you probably never will out loud, but a certain green monster had taken residence on your shoulders.

You were taking your usual stroll around the gardens when you spotted him outside the Palace's main entrance. Hurrying your steps, you called his name to catch his attention.

"Aleksander!"

Fortunately, he heard you and turned to see who was calling him. There were few people who knew his name and there was no chance in hell it would be Baghra. His lips morphed in a small smile as he watched you approaching with a sprint in your steps.

"Hey, I'm so glad I've caught you, it's been ages since I've-" you stopped when you saw Alina's approaching figure. Your eyes darted from her to Aleksander in front of you and you've finally noticed the two horses.

He wasn't wearing his cloak and of course, where Alina was Aleksander followed. Your lips thinned in a line as you rolled your shoulders back. You knew that Aleksander had noticed your expression change but you hadn't had centuries of practice to scholar your features into betraying nothing. But you forced yourself to at least keep up the appearances with Alina.

You gave her a smile when she stood before you complimenting her hair.

"Genya's handiwork," she simply said as it was enough to explain everything.

"Well, I'm going to leave you to your outing," you said hoping they couldn't notice the strain in your smile. Turning around, you retraced your steps to where you had been standing before and where you should have stayed all this time.

It was clear now- what other signs did he need to give you? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to not let the tears fall. You could feel his eyes on you until the sounds of hooves hitting the gravel told you that they were gone.

However much it hurt you to see again and again the proof that you were losing him, there was still a part of you that told you that this was just a phase. A temporary arrangement, given Aleksander's plans for Ravka. You just had to bite the bullet until it was all over.

And so, with renowned hope, you decided that you were going to talk to him. Even if you had to wait for him for hours or meet him at the brink of dawn, you had to do it. You needed to know where his heart was and from that, you could decide where to go.

However, to your luck, today was the day of the Winter Fete. Everyone, including you, was going to be super busy with finalizing the last minute details and rehearsals. Every Grisha had a role in tonight demonstration even though the star of the whole night was, of course, the Sun Summoner.

Since you were a tidemaker, your manifestation was scheduled before Alina's grand entrance. You and the other tidemakers had prepared a light show, along with Alina, to use water to reflect and amplify Alina's light so as to create a beautiful play of light.

The whole ordeal ended in time for Alina to get back inside the Palace and get on stage and for everyone else to get inside too to witness her exhibition. You followed along with everyone else but alas, you really wished you hadn't.

Aleksander had eyes only for Alina, he never looked away from her even when the light got blinding for everyone else in the room. And you couldn't blame him- Alina was literally glowing. She looked amazing in that black kefta and the symbolism of the colour wasn't lost on you.

You had been a fool, that's what you were. It was painfully obvious how whipped Aleksander was for Alina. Each of those signs was a painful blow to your heart and faith in him. His outings with her, her black kefta, the smile she sent his way and how enthralled he was by her.

Shaking your head, you fought to keep your composure. You had lost him, you realized. You had to accept the fact that it was over. Whatever you had, it had come to an end. The moment it did, was lost on you but you knew it had to coincide with the moment he had met Alina.

As if to confirm your inward musings, Alina and Aleksander walked out of the room, her under his arm.

Well, it was settled then. You couldn't stay here anymore. It was one thing to break up and grow apart but it was a whole other thing to watch him being in love with someone else.

You had to go. That was certain.

Nodding to yourself, you took your final decision just as they walked past you. Aleksander's eyes met yours briefly, just long enough for you to send him a teary glare.

This was the last time you were going to see him and as much as you could feel your heart breaking, you knew that it was something you had to do. They walked out of the room and you wasted no time in leaving as well.

However, before going to your room to pack the few belongings you had, there was somewhere else you needed to go first.

The wind blew harshly on your face, the salt of the sea breeze mixing with that of your tears. Alone on the dock, you allowed yourself to cry. To finally let out everything you had been keeping under lock and key for so very long.

You tried to comfort yourself by reassuring yourself that this was the right choice. The best choice. To stay in a place where you had never truly felt at home, where every nook and cranny reminded you of what you had and what you had lost- of the fact that you hadn't been enough. That your love hadn't been enough for him to stick around, to choose you over a girl he had known for about a day. Everything you had shared, the months spent together in intimacy under his sheets or under the comfort of your favourite tree.

Vanished. Erased. Worthless.

You allowed yourself to feel every ounce of pain his dismissing behaviour had caused you because as soon as you boarded, you were going to leave all of this behind. You were sailing towards your future, towards a new land full of opportunities and new people. Somewhere where you could start fresh.

You heard someone shout the name of the ship you had to be on and knew that the moment had come. Here you were about to step into your new life.

Heaving a sigh, you threw a last look in the Little Palace direction, at what-or rather- who you were leaving behind. Turning around, you gathered your kefta closer to your body to shield you from the harsh weather. As you were about to move, a hand clamping on your back, stopped you.

You winced, not expecting the contact since you thought you were the only one on the dock. Turning around, you were met with a familiar pair of onyx eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, an edge on his voice that you couldn't figure out if it was surprise, betrayal or boredom.

"I could ask you the same thing, General." Taking a step back, his hand fell from your shoulder as you put some distance between you. Standing so close to him just as you were about to bid him goodbye forever felt like a cruel joke on destiny's part.

"So this is what you do? Leave in the middle of the night without telling anyone?"

"Those who needed to be, have been rightly notified of my departure. I don't see how this concerns you, though."

"You don't see-" he huffed out, a humourless laugh leaving him," how, in the name of all saints, don't you see how this concerns me?"

"This is the first time you've spoken to me in months, Aleksander so please spare me this bullshit. I've got it, alright?" Raising your hands you took yet another step away from him. "There's no need for you to be here and pretend anymore. Go back to your party and your Grisha and your girl."

"You're my girl," he stated somehow still calmly.

"No, I'm not," you scoffed, "and you've done a fine job proving that these past few months."

"I know I've been neglecting you, but what's a few months when we have a lifetime together in front of us?" he conceded taking a step towards you as his arms widened as if to show you the length of time you'd be spending together.

"It's everything, Aleks," you snapped as your emotions got the best of you, "seeing you getting cosy with Alina every day realising that the more time passed the less you were mine was excruciating and I'm done. I'm going away and I'm leaving all of this behind."

"You can't go."

"Watch me," you quipped as you turned around. Challenging you was not the best way for him to go about this. He knew better than anyone who proudful you could be.

"You cannot go," he... begged? the tone of his voice was so weird coming from him that had you pivot immediately. "You cannot leave. You cannot leave me."

You stood there, hair blowing everywhere for the harsh wind, just staring at him. You'd never seen him so emotional. Yes, you'd shared some intimate moments but he'd never been quite this open about his feelings. The sight of his teary eyes was so unfamiliar that made your brain short-circuiting.

Taking a shaky breath, Aleksander took a step in your direction, getting closer to you but still not close yet.

"Everything that I've ever done has been for a sole purpose, y/n, you know it. And you have to believe me, Alina plays a role in this as well."

"I know she does, it's obvious to everyone. It just has become painfully obvious to me tonight just how important she's come to mean to you." You shrugged as you looked away. Admitting this while also looking him in the eyes was an impossible feat.

"She may as well be the Sun Summoner, but you're my solnishko, y/n." He murmured softly as he took another step, this time getting close enough to you to reach for your hands.

"Sweet talking isn't going to change anything, Aleksander. I saw how you looked at her, I saw her wearing your colours. Do you take me for a fool?"

"Of course not," he disagreed vehemently, "but it's as I've told you, my dear, please believe me. Every action had its purpose which was not hurting you or expressing my love for Alina." He insisted, his hands squeezing yours. His eyes flickered between you and you spotted hopefulness as well as sincerity in them. Which made you hesitate.

Could it be...?

"But why didn't you tell me so, then? Why cutting me out dry without a word?" you uttered, afraid to believe him, afraid to let your heart hope again.

"It has been a play, solnishko. Ever since Alina has stepped foot inside the Little Palace, all eyes have been on us. I had a part to play and so did she. Unfortunately, I couldn't risk it." He explained, his eyes taking in your features, noting how hesitant you still were.

"I swear, my love, you should hear her. The only thing she can talk about it's her childhood best friend who seems so boring, I can't see what she sees in him." He added smiling hoping to lighten the mood. And as a matter of fact, he was rewarded with your giggles.

"Really?"

"I'd never lie to you," he murmured solemnly, his head tilting down toward yours. You met him halfway, your nose bumping softly with his.

"You better never start, Sasha," you warned lightly as he gave you an Eskimo kiss, his hands reaching up to hold your cheeks.

"Never," he promised on your lips. His trailed over yours softly before tilting his head to the side and letting them finally touch.

It has been so long since you've last shared a kiss that you'd almost forgotten how it felt like. How soft his lips were, how voracious he could be, how he always tasted of something sweet.

You gasped as his tongue trailed over your lower lip giving him the desired opportunity to sneak in and meet your tongue. Moaning, you moved your lips with his, hands sneaking through his hair to hold him close. The kiss came to a stop when you both were out of breath. He didn't get far away though as he rested his forehead on yours.

"The captain is going to be really mad at me." You murmured as you heard another shout coming from the end of the dock.

"Let me deal with him," he reassured you before giving you another small kiss. With that, he stepped away and headed over to where your ship was anchored.

You stood there, your fingers touching your lips, still in trance after what happened. So, you had never lost him. He had always been yours.

The realisation made you smile and as you watched his cape blowing in the wind you felt reassured. You knew he had plans but those were never the problem. You could bear seeing him with Alina if you knew that you were the only one in his heart and bed. And it seemed that you weren't the only one who wanted to keep it this way.