#piano but in the sad old man way

[petergabrielyuri]

this specific part of perfect day by lou reed really fucking hurts in the context of ed's situation in ep 9 man...

[gumycandyyy]

୨♡ Ｗｉｎｔｅｒ Ｋｉｎｇ ＨＣＳ ♡୧

I am ashamed of tumblr for not making more fanfic of this funky fruit.

We got some general HCS and then some romantic ones under the cut! (I went a little overboard with the romantic ones, hehe!)

Gender-neutral

୨♡ Ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ ♡୧

-Man's self care routine is off the charts

-I'm serious, he has like- 80 different bubble bath concoctions.

-Smells like mint

-or some kind of cold scent.

-I feel like he loves dressing up fancy, so he has a closet full of sparkly suits

-maybe even some dresses if he's feeling special.

-Doesn't actually need to wear glasses, he just likes how they look.

-While he loves his winter wonder world, I feel like he'd enjoy rainy weather more than snow.

-He got rid of all his madness and sadness, yes, but I think he'd cry at something especially cute. Happy tears, y'know?

"Why are you crying, sir? Are you okay?" "Oh, it's nothing. *sniff* Just those two rabbits that are cuddling."

-He is really bad at any percussion instrument

-like.. REALLY bad.

-His hands are too delicate for such a garish instrument as the drums!

-He loves playing duets on the piano, but rarely has anyone to play with.

-I mean, he could always concoct up an ice creature to play piano with him, but that's honestly quite dull.

-His favorite movie would probably be an old Christmas movie, like It's a Wonderful Life.

-He gets kidnapped by the Candy Queen so often, that occasionally he brings a book or something snuggly to help him wait for his ice scouts to rescue him.

-He once got so bored while kidnapped that he tried to read to some of the mutilated candy people

-That was the last time he saw his favorite book.

-Safe to say he doesn't bring his favorites anymore.

୨♡ Ｒｏｍａｎｔｉｃ ♡୧

-Will literally spoil his love interest rotten.

-You want that thing you saw earlier?

-Consider it yours

-You'd like for it to snow outside?

-A sprinkle or a blizzard?

-Literally anything, this man will go to the ends of the universe to get you what you'd like.

-Love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch

-probably acts of service too.

-Loves dancing.

-Loves dancing.

-Whether it be a slow dance or ice-skating, he will take every opportunity to dance with you!

-He adores short people.

-Good, because he's tall as a giant.

-if you're shorter than him, he will no doubt use you as an armrest.

-He always makes remarks on how cute you are.

-Even if you're only two inches shorter than him.

-If you're taller...

-hoo boy.

-Expect him to be all over you.

-figuratively and literally.

-Will want you to carry him everywhere, sit in your lap, rest against you, whatever.

-Just let him touch you.

-He'll talk about how strong you are, how you'd be the perfect chair, etc. etc.

-He does the stupid "How's the weather up there?" jokes.

-Loves your body, no matter what it looks like.

-You're skinny?

-You're easy to carry around and dance with.

-You're chubby or fat?

-Literally will always be holding onto or resting on part of you. He loves squishy people.

-Somewhere in the middle?

-He could not care less. He loves you regardless of what you look like.

-And he makes sure to emphasize his point by complimenting you endlessly.

-He will never leave your side.

-Even if you need space, he doesn't.

-So why wouldn't you?

-Back to our regularly scheduled fluff-

-Candy Queen hates your guts.

-She thinks you're an obstacle, keeping her from the Winter King.

-No doubt tries to kill you.

-Multiple times. a day

-Her plans are always foiled, but if she gets too close to genuinely hurting you, Winter will be so upset.

"Oh, Dearest, please tell me you're okay!" "You are?" "Phew. I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt in any way."

-His petnames for you are probably

-Darling,

-Dearest,

-My love,

-There are a lot more, but those are the main ones.

-LOVES kissing you.

-Anytime, any way.

-He finds it adorable when his nose bumps your face.

-Favorite place to kiss would probably be the back of your hand.

-He is a gentleman after all.

-Overall, he just adores you.

-And he sincerely hopes you love him just as much as he does you.

Headcanon requests are open for Winter King! Don't be afraid to send an ask, and be shameless! I know I am! (No smut tho. Some spice is okay, however.)

Have some free WK art for coming this far!

reblog for a beginner writer?

[nemesyaaa]

a house in nebraska ! rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary ; you were the reason he won't come home but you still call home. this story is based on the song of ethel cain.

warnings : it's angst. fully angst. it's about toxic relationship. so violence, arguing and fighting, sick behavior, daddy and mommy issues, the urge of love and being loved, mentions of drugs, the feeling of being misunderstood and unsteady. home is used as a metaphor of relationship. it's about inner rage too. slight of smut but very little. both rafe and reader being fucked up. southern goth/small town coded.

author's note : it's my first time writing angst so be easy one me please ! as i said, it's based on " a house in nebraska" by ethel cain (because she's my favorite artist and my muse.) and a lot of her songs make me think of rafe, but i also take inspo of her others songs like crush, strangers, and hard times. also a hint of bet on losing dogs by mitski.

i dont know how many words are in this works, but i think around 3k ? it's a one-shot ! BETTER TO READ IT WHILE LISTENING TO A SAD SONG. (a house in nebraska (live version)or anything else)

you lived in the nebraska with rafe, he was your man and you were his girl. it was a small town that allowed you to be just him and you against the world, to be safe from the rest. but the ugly truth was that your house had become a raging mess. the mattresses had become dirty, the silence too comfortable, the night too long, the emptiness too deep, the love too absent and the violence too present. everyone was angry here, even demons and the silence.

rafe was a storm, and every time you tried to calm it, you became further worse. no, you weren't becoming like him, you were becoming him, the mirror of his emotions, full of rage and inexpressible feelings. like a bomb, you needed it to come out, to scream and explode. like a bomb, you needed to hurt, and destroy everything in your way.

you had built this house together, when he still worked with his hands, oh god, how much you loved those big and strong hands, the dirt and bruises on his skin. the softness of his palms when he touched you, the pulsating veins engraved. they were made to love you, to caging you. they were always rushed with blood and wounds because of his work, but despite how dirty they were when he came home, they were always pure and clean on your body. but you also were so in love with his messy sweaty hair, caressing by the wind. he was tall and handsome, the kind of man who worked all day, and drunk at night, some whiskey or bourbon. but never missed to please the needs of his girl.

when he smoked his red marlboros on the porch, you were sitting on his lap like a sleepy girl to take a nap on his heavy arms that managed to hug your body. when he took a sip of his cold beer, while you had nothing to do but being his own pretty girl. when he allowed you to bathe him, cleaning the mess and the sweat. when you used to learn him how to play some classic music on the old piano, and he was just turned on by the way you used so damn well your fingers, and making you sit on the board, and fuck you right there, even if the windows were wide open.

at this time, you would have die for him.

when he still listened to what you said, when he still answered your calls and did not make you sick by his silence, when you laughed every time he came home . but now you were starting to hate the fact that he was coming.

how did the man who was supposed to make you so happy manage to break you so easily? but you weren't an angel either, oh far from it, you had neither wings nor halo on your head, you didn't even have god in your heart. you made him, like all men, your enemy.

it was four in the morning, it was still dark, you were waiting in the living room.

the tv wasn't on. rafe had broken it during an argument. that wasn’t the only thing he shattered, you had to be the hardest thing he does. not even with his fists, with just the force of his words, the way they were murderous, the way they had the force to tear your heart open and crushed it into pieces.

most people would say that this man was not the type to cry, that a man doesn't cry, but rafe cried. and you had seen him a couple of times, and the first time you saw him burst into tears, you knew straight away that it was the real him. that behind all this hatred, this anger, there was a hurted little boy. and who grew up with an open wound, a wound impossible to heal, even with all the love in the world.

rafe was the kind of man who screamed, who cried, who bled, a fallen angel who had lost god along the way, who had been ignored, but mostly, never heard.

when he opened the door to the house, you hated the strong smell of alcohol, but also of blood. you never asked him for anything, the only thing you wanted was for him to come home on time for dinner, to go to bed with you. but no one, absolutely, no one tamed a dog like him. and you rathered not bet on losing dogs.

“where were you ?? ” you had already started shouting due to lack of patience, getting up from the chair to confront him.

you had seen him sigh, making that bored face, like you had no reason to be upset, that face that made all women become even worse.

“if you had the same energy to scream when we fuck, we would have a fantastic sex life.”

“seriously, rafe? you want to play the asshole, right now ? ”

“ it will suit your bitch behavior, so why not ?”

you slapped him very hard in the face. what obviously rafe didn't find this very amusing, he crushed you in the wall, pinned your hands above your head.

“ don't you dare slapping me again. you want to be mean, sweetheart ? i can be meaner. let's see....oh this is the necklace that your mom offered to you before leaving ? how sweet. maybe, i can sell it for a good price. ”

“ rafe. don't. ”

he shushed you, by putting his other hand on your mouth. “ you're not allowed to talk right now. you had your turn for, now, it's my fucking turn. and i will do whatever the fuck i want ! it's my house, my rules. ”

he unhooked the necklace, as you tried to break away from his grip but he closed his fingers tighter against your wrists.

“I'm going to kill you, no matter what you do, i'm going to kill you. ”

“murder me” he said with a louder voice. “i’m asking you to murder me! it’s probably the only good thing you’ll have done well in your life. you know even if i die tonight, i will die yours. even if you kill me, i will always be here.”

he released you, and you exploded. “you have exceeded the limits, rafe! ”

” since when are there boundaries between us, sugar? we're freaks, remember? ”

you threw away the first object you found, it was an empty coffee cup. you threw it at his face. but he had dodged it with a sick smile. your jaw clenched, eyes blazing with fury, you were out of control. you were what he wanted you to be every time he came home late

” oh you can do better than that baby. i'm sure i taught you how to shoot better than this when i showed you how to kill? do you remember? ”

“ this, this fucking attitude, rafe is why everybody leaves you ! ”

“ yes. and do i fucking care, y/n ? do i fucking care ? i grew up in a family where nobody loved me, nobody reached after me, nobody looked after me, nobody dared to pay attention to me and you tell me i have to care about everyone leaving me ? no, it's not fucking fair ! so do you understand ? i don't care. if you want to leave, you know better than me that the door is open because you're the only one to be stucking in front, waiting like a fucking dog that i come come. ”

“ fine. i leave ! ”

you took the keys of the car, even if rafe hated that you drove, especially at midnight. but you were too upset, too mad.

your man wasn't done with you. he stood in front of the car you were driving.

“if you think i'm afraid of killing you, when you were the one who taught me how to do that, you're wrong. ”

" yes ? then show me how well i did my job. kill me. ”

“ rafe, i’m not kidding. ”

“ perfect, we are both serious then. ”

you moved the car forward, pressing the pedal with your feet. you hitted him with the car. it was strong but not violent either.

you got out of the car quickly to check on him. but he was smiling, a little blood on his face.

“are you sick!? ”

“ i raised you well, i fear. now, lick this face. i can see in your eyes how pretty you find me covered with blood, so please yourself, lick it all. ”

“ wait, i will find some tis….”

“ no, with your tongue. clean my whole face with your tongue. don't waste anything. i want to be able to kiss you right after, and recognize the taste of my blood all over your mouth. you want to be sick ? make me feel sick too. ”

maybe you were too young to realize that some loves could be bad. but this relationship was toxic. you had both destroyed each other, and it was complicated when you saw this world, this universe only through your union. you felt like you had lost a lot, like you had lost everything, like you had failed. maybe, you were the failure, and rafe, the problem. but also, maybe, he was the failure and you, the problem.

and you hated not knowing what was going on in rafe's head, you hated that no one on this earth could figure it out, and that even rafe himself didn't know it. he was crazy, he was sick but that wasn't all, it couldn't be just that.

you gave up the fight, going to the bathroom to take a bath. you needed some peace because the house didn't feel like a home anymore.

sometimes wheezie would call you to see if you were okay, she had grown up, and you lied to her all the time. because it hurt so much to be two in a relationship, but not feel like you were a part of it anymore. and the worst part of it all was that you could kill yourself for just one minute of affection, just one second of happiness, just one moment in the past when everything was okay. where rafe was still the sweet little boy you knew. but the stories were not meant to have a happy ending.

it was hard this feeling, this lack when he still lived with you in this terrible house. but one day you'll be the reason he won't come home again. but you would always call home. you promised yourself. because it would always be yours.

rafe had joined you in the bathtub. and you could tell by his red and empty eyes, his blank stare that he had been crying. he cried and he was not the drugs, he was you, only you.

and you didn't mention it. you didn't say anything. you preferred to stay smart and not start another fight.

“the walls could break down with so much screams. ” you said, laughing slightly.

“maybe we should sell the house. ”

“i like this house. i feel at home here. i have nowhere to go. ” you lied for the two first, but not for the last.

and it was true. you had built everything, paved everything here. you had remade a world. you couldn't leave, you couldn't leave anything. and above all, you were too tired to leave.

it would be a lie to say that you didn't had sex in the bathtub, that you didn't feel his tears on your shoulder, that you didn't feel his thrusts get harder each time a sob broke out his empty eyes, that you didn't feel how much he was breaking every time you took pleasure. because, it was hard for him to seeing you being happy. because it was so hard to take care of you. because it was so hard to feel loved and being loved. you were both too young, too stupid, too sick for love.

and rafe wanted to make you happy without sex, without all this selfish sex. no, he wanted to make you happy by some casual things. but sometimes, you pissed him off so bad to the point, he wanted to leave. but how can a man who hoped to be loved can leave the woman who promised to cherish him ? it was too tired, too angry, and too unsteady to leave. you broke him too. and it was sad for him, because you were the only one he was not scared to tell it hurts.

but at six in the morning you were fighting again as if it were a ritual, a need, a desire to destroy each other, as if sometimes love needed to be violent and destructive to work. actually, for freaks like you, surely.

“why did you throw my fucking drugs down the toilet?! ”

“because you don’t need that!” ”

“you don’t know what i need, you barely know what i want! you had no fucking right to do that. ”

“ don't be a crybaby ! ”

“ repeat. i dare you to repeat. ”

“crybaby! you're a fucking crybaby, rafe! your new personality changes nothing about the boy you were and will always be! what, you don't like the truth ? bad for you, i'm about to tell you what everyone doesn't want to tell you. because i'm not scared at all of you ! you're a fucking crybaby ! ”

“ but you're still here, you're still fucking here. because you know what ? i'm maybe a crybaby, but i'm a river worth wading. and this is why, you're standing in front of me with all this confidence. you wanted a broken man, you wanted someone to fix ? then come on baby, i'm here, i'm watching you, i'm listening, i'm literally at your feets, fix me ! fix the little boy you wanted, make him better. ”

“ rafe…”

“no, i'm asking you now who do you think you are? do you think that because you have this attitude, it doesn't make you a little girl who needs her daddy? because damn, yes, you need him. but i fear daddy was the only one who didn't need you because guess what ? he left. and you make all the men leave around you ! but the difference between us is that you care. when i fucking dont care.”

“ you're sick, a sick asshole. and don't touch me ! ” you pushed him away, but he came back, his hand on your throat. “ but you're the sick one who loves me, remember that ?” he answered.

“ but do you think i still love you ? ” you said with a smirk, taking pleasure to see his widen eyes. “ i'm asking you right now, do you think i still love you, and if one day, someone will like you like i do ? it would be so hard for you to find happiness after me, i can promise you this. you will fight a lot. because ? can you see ? can you see i can breathe without you, i can live without you ? but you, can you do this ? yes, you can fight, you can scream and shout but what else ? ”

“ it doesn't hurt, y/n. it doesn't hurt. and you can't break me, as you can't fix me. ”

“ then why are you crying, big boy ? why are those tears for, if not for me ? ”

“ i built a home for you, i did everything for you. ”

“ and then what ? ”

“ don't make me regret it, y/n. don't make me regret the only good thing i've made well in my life, just don't make me regret...this. you don't understand. why did every house i'm in never felt like home ? ”

“ you destroy everything, rafe. but me too, i guess. the difference is that you have an excuse, a reason for being like that. your dad fucked up with you. and i hate him for that. if he had loved you correctly, you would have known and learned how to love people, how to be attached to them. but you don't know any of that, you don't know what it is to love, and to be loved. everything i do for you, you could call it love, even when i'm mean. but it's false, love is tender, it's beautiful. but you know, i think i'm sick because i also like the way you love me, this violence, this rage, this impulsiveness, it drives me crazy but it makes me alive. so, do you think you could do it again? ”

“ why you didn't leave, why you never leave ? ”

“ because it's our house. we're stuck in forever. this is our house in nebraska, our only heaven. now be a good boy and cry a little for me, i think i'm going away a little...” you said, taking him in your arms, your hand placed on his back, and your hand pressed to his cheek. “don’t worry, i cry a lot too. all the time, even when you make me happy. ” you shushed him, bursted in tears in the hug.

you kissed him on the corner of his lips, your mouth meeting his tears, before he joined you in this kiss, you felt his sad and salty tongue against yours, his hands came squeeze your waist.

but now in the present, you were alone. the house still existed but it was just you.

you weren't sleeping anymore, because you kept hoping that he would come home, you were hoping that he would come home late at night.

but you were alone in a dirty and cold mattress. and you prayed for him hoping he was okay. the phone was broken but you were hoping to hear it ring, the door was open and you were waiting for a sign.

nothing was right, everything was wrong. you just wanted to say to rafe that he had you, that he had a house, and his home missed him, like nobody ever does in his life.

you didn't realize that you had been lying all this time, and that you were silently dying. but at least you died, only his.

[bouncybongfairy]

Caught Dead

The Creature x Fem Reader

Summary: Your homecoming date leaves you for another girl. On your sad and drunk walk home, you come across a memorial service for a Victorian man. Honoring his music, you wander in and play a score he wrote. The creature is so moved by your playing, he comes back from the dead and witnesses your talent first hand.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Tooth Rotting Fluff

Not Proof Read

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Usually homecoming is a night that everyone raves about. Prom is always so pretentious and stressful. Whereas homecoming was more carefree; at least that’s how it’s depicted in romance novels and fanfiction. The guy you were originally going with ended up ditching you for another girl. Your best friend was with her boyfriend and third wheeling wasn’t something you're interested in. The best course of action was to walk home, stopping at a liquor store on the way. The old woman behind the counter looked you up and down, this didn’t offend you though. Mascara stained tears left streaks of gray lined down your face. Wearing a big pink dress that you used to feel really good in. Now it felt more like a cone of shame, drawing attention to what a hot mess you were. 

“Can I please get a dutch honey and small bottle of Skol,” you ask, setting a twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

“Normally I would laugh and send you away. You’re lucky I only have fifteen minutes until I clock out and how pathetic you look right now,” she said, taking your money and bagging the items. 

Even though it was a little back handed, you were grateful for her kindness. Chasing the vodka down with cigarettes as you walked. Humming tunes to yourself, enjoying the crisp night air. The sound of classical music caught your attention, a funeral home. It was one of the only places that had its doors open still. You sit outside on the steps, gutting your wrap before rolling the blunt. 

“Were you coming in?” a voice came from the doorway. 

“Oh um, yeah just give me a second,” you say.

“Take your time,” the older gentleman gave you a warm smile before heading back inside. 

You tucked the blunt behind your ear, shoving the half empty bottle into your purse before walking in. It wasn’t an open casket funeral but more of a memorial service. There was a piano in the corner of the room, a vase of red roses sitting on top of the beautiful wood. The funeral director explained that a bunch of this young man’s music was recently discovered. A museum recently bought the music and discovered he was never given a proper funeral so they wandered to give him a proper memorial. 

To honor him and the beautiful scores that were never showcased the way they deserved. Apparently the party from the museum didn’t stay for long, the director said they mostly took pictures for their website. After reading more about his story, you felt more connected to him. Apparently his girl left him for another man. Similar to what happened at the dance tonight. Grabbing one of the scores and sitting at the piano. It could be because you were drunk but as the sorrowful melody filled the room tears pricked into your eyes again. Imagining how his feelings of betrayal and grief probably poured through his pen while writing this song. 

Not being able to shake the fact that you just learned first hand how being left can feel. Bitter because deep down your biggest fear for the night came true; lonely from being too embarrassed to admit you were someone's second choice. Tears rolling down your face as you let yourself drown in sorrow. Unbenounced to you, The Creature not only heard his music so beautifully remastered but your cries. So moved by feeling and hearing your broken heart crying from your chest, he begins to stir. Pushing himself out of the ground and making his way towards the music. 

Lighting your blunt inside the room, you were tipsy and didn’t care if there were repercussions. Letting it hang off your lips and you played, trying not to let the smoke in your eyes. Meanwhile the creature was getting hung up on the mechanics of his body. Slowly stumbling towards the illuminated building, stopping dead in his tracks once seeing you. The light above the ceiling was casting down on you. Highlighting your eyelashes and flyaways, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. How expressive your face was while playing the notes, looking up every once to let tears run down your face. Showing how the mascara ran down your neck.  His daze was broken once he saw the worker coming back in the room, pointing his finger and yelling. This enraged him; stomping over there to stop the man from approaching you. Having some trouble with the stairs but after finally made his way in. 

Grabbing the sides of his old man's head and snapping his neck. You gasp, the blunt dropping out of your mouth and onto the floor. Going to pick it up but being taken back but The Creature. He stepped over the body and slowly inched towards you. You pull your knees up to your chest and press your back against the wall. He was now hovering over you, staring at you before leaning down. Getting on one knee and picking up the blunt, standing back up. 

Now closer, his lower stomach pressed against your knees. Putting the dutch between your lips with one hand and brushing the hair out of your eyes with the other. You put your knees down and pulled him onto the bench. Starting to play his score, focusing on keys and not his… appearance. As you played he grunted at a specific measure every time which led you to investigate why, 

“What? This part?” you replayed it a couple times. He pointed out a certain note and then to another, shifting his finger back and forth. In your interpretation, he was prompting you to switch the notes. Him humming in satisfaction at the change. 

“Yeah that does sound a lot smoother,” you point out. 

Remembering the body, you both leave in order to avoid responsibility. Walking home together, playing your music out loud for him to enjoy. Before the dark felt scary and daunting but now you were enjoying the night air. Completely ignorant to reality but never feeling better. 

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Can you do a future story for Jin or Luca?

Melodies from the future

Jin slips to the future for the length of a nap

Wc: 1,2k

Notes: I really like this even if it's short (let's say it's short because it's supposed to just be a nap m'kay?)

The soft melody of a piano slips in the young master's ears, changing his dreams to distorted memories of his childhood. His first piano lesson was not later than a little after his fourth birthday, when a tall man approached him after tutoring so start teaching the basics of reading music and his very first song. 

The first few lessons he was such a brat, sneaking away to play with his toys until he saw his mother in the music room playing her violin alone, she usually would lull him to sleep after nightmares with a song. Back then he didn't notice it but her little sad comment about wanting someone to duet with her was so obviously a way to get him to sit through his lessons, it's almost embarrassing to recognize it did work and he learned many songs for his mom's sake. 

The slight sliver of conscience the sound opened was just enough to remember that in Frostheim there are no pianos, and even if there were, his own room was soundproof so he wouldn't know if anyone was playing.

That realization plus the horrid noise of the off tempo and very obviously wrong key, strikes Jin out of his sleep, nerves crisp against the soft silk bed sheets.

The half mind that he managed to gather allowed him to recognize how different this room was to his own at Frostheim, an L shaped room with the bed facing a wardrobe on the sharp angle.

Walking out of the bed and to the wardrobe trying to find the exit he catches for a second the reflection of his face on the full length mirror adjacent to the wardrobe and sticky disgust lingers on the base of his tongue and back of his throat for a minute. His white hair dusted with a few stray gray hairs just behind his ears, and some wrinkles starting to carve themselves around his eyes and his forehead. It's not the sudden aging causing him to step away from the reflection but just how much he looked like his father, as a child and even now, he always got told that he looked just like his dad but he never managed to see it beyond sharing hair and eye color until now, a splitting image. 

Deciding to not mull over that, there is a lot of time before this mess happens, something inside him insists. He watches some photos hung around the wall and wrapping around the corner, most are of white haired children uncannily similar to himself during different milestones, like walking or school graduations or a few ones where they were dressed formally enough for a gala. 

Following the flow of the photos around the wall, he finds himself mesmerized briefly for no more than one second with each and every photo, but the biggest picture and possibly centerpiece of the homemade gallery was one with with him and the honor student posing inside an old catedral, both wearing white wedding attire, wisteria and white roses adorning the venue. Was it Clementia? It's unlikely, it looked too clean and tidy, unlike how it looks after the incident.

In as much of a trance he found himself beholding the picture, a golden glimmer captured his attention. It's a gold wedding band, almost on instinct he puts it in his left ring finger and maybe it was something embedded inside his being after years of cohabitation… where did that even come from? The closest thing to cohabitation is how much time Thoma spends around him.

As he turns around to leave he notes there are two doors, one leading to a balcony and the other he supposes leads to the rest of the house. 

Walking through the marble tiles, his feet fall at the same time that the inexperienced rhythm of twinkle twinkle little star is played. Following the sound he finds himself in the family music room where he learned to play. Was he in his family home? The floor lay out did seem somewhat similar but the paint and furniture changed quite a bit. He guesses it's natural, if he himself aged for things to not remain the same, maybe should be even offsetting if they did.

A white haired child is seated in front of the big tail piano playing nervously for the audience that was his parent and baby brother. His nerves were so noticeable that it seeped into the music, an apprentice’s first but green attempts.

“Do it again, but this time with confidence” his voice echoes into the room, scaring the child into playing the wrong key.

“Looks like dad finally woke up, huh?” A teasing voice speaks from the couch and as their head turns around to face him Jin sees your face once again, a few years older than the photo in the bedroom and a lot older than your academy self he is used to, but still you after all “his grampa got him a piano teacher and wanted to show me what he learned. Maybe you could refresh on your own skills”

“Really, dad plays?” The child jumps in interest and tugs him by the hand towards the piano. Was it honest interest or did he simply not want to play anymore? “Play something for me!”

“What about what you chose for our first dance?”

“Salut d'amour” his words slip from between his lips before even thinking about a wedding. He did seem to be correct as you smiled complacently while hugging the year old in your lap.

Did he truly choose that? Even thinking about that song playing during his wedding and being the one who chose it made him feel like he was a whipped sappy loser like that blond second year yet at the expectant look of ‘his son’ and yours he obliges, it's a short piece after all, he reasons.

It isn't far after he starts playing that the five year old sits down next to him and perches himself on his arm, eyeing how he moves his hands majestically, even after all those years without training. 

“don’t pull on your dad's arm” without a noise you stand behind him while holding the kid he saw in one of the family photos. 

Breathing in, his eyes close and the unusual burn in his lungs itches from the inside but like sand slipping from his hand with the wind, the next time he opens his eyes he is seated on the couch looming over the coffee table. Almost at the same time Thoma enters with a tray and teapot.

“Abusing bhavishy incense again? I don't think you need another excuse to sleep more” and almost as if Thoma’s words were what he needed to puzzle it together and not the very clearly lit powdered incense holder letting off a pinkish mist “you should open a window, you are going choke on fumes”

He got his hands on a new batch of an artisan's mix and wanted to try it out, he remembers his simple motive of being bored and it being more interesting than annoying Thoma with tasking him to find some musician that never existed. 

His thoughts get stringed together slowly and carefully, still a bit out of it thanks to the fumes but it gets easier to think as Thoma opens the balcony door wide open, letting in Frostheim notoriously cold breeze to clean out the strawberry scent.

“I never took the captain for someone to be interested in love affairs, but at last it seems I have a lot to learn about you”

“Just shut it, you are making my head hurt”

“Are you flustered?”

[gretavangroupie]

Transcendent - One

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 24.0k

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Smoking, Cursing, Mention and Use of Magic, Black Magic, Curses, Fire, Death in Fire, Anxiety, Arguing, Physical Violence, Fighting, Use of Weapons, Blood, Arranged Marriage, Unhappy Relationships, Sadness, Illness, Death, Use of Restraints. Smut: Heavy Pining, Kissing, Light Touching.

A/N: Surprise! @gretavanmoon and I are back with what has to be our favorite project yet. Without giving too much away, this will not be your traditional storyline. We've been dreaming on this one for a while and after a quick little break we are ready to get back to business. There will be no posting schedule with this story, taking it as it comes to give you the best story possible. But, it will be ongoing throughout this Fall and Winter season. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging. It means the world to us and truly keeps us going.

JAKE

I push the old wooden door open, the rusty handle leaving my hand feeling stiff and dirty. I swipe it against my canvas trousers, all the while knowing they are just as dirty as my hand is now. A hard day's work will do that to you. A hard day’s work is also how one finds themselves wandering into a bar at quittin’ time. I had to ask around to find one, the mason on the jobsite informing me of this place tucked away between two shops just a few blocks down the road from the job. There’s no sign out front, nothing that would ever reveal that it was a barroom. But as I open the door and step inside, the smell is what hits me first and I know I’ve found the right place. 

I make my way towards the bar attendant, the room warm from the kerosene lamps burning on the tables. It's dimly lit and the place seems to be full of laborers like myself. Everyone has just gotten off a job or is looking for work themselves. I keep my head low as I approach the attendant, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I don’t know who knows what around here, but the town is small and I know people talk. Especially in my line of work, ain’t nothing to do besides talk. 

“What’ll ya have,” the attendant asks. His lips are almost fully enveloped beneath his thick mustache as his eyes look me up and down. 

“A Lager, thanks,” I say, sticking my hand into my trouser pocket in search of coins.

“Outta the Lager, I can do a Porter,” he counters, reaching for a mug. “I seen you around here before?”

My eyes flick up to his, “No sir, don’t believe. Just here temporarily for work.” He seems perplexed by my answer, as if he doesn’t believe me.

He fills the mug with the ale as he continues, “What's ya trade?”

“Carpenter,” I answer quickly, “Boarding house goin’ up a few blocks away.”

“The St. Lemire job?” he asks, and again I nod.

He doesn’t say anything else, instead passing me the mug of ale with a grunt. He seems uneasy about my presence. For why I don’t know, but I don’t question it. I nod in thanks and pay him what he’s due, taking the mug of dark beer over to a table in the corner. The kerosene lamp is burnt out and the table is dark, but that’s almost better. I didn’t come here to make friends, I came here for a drink, and once it’s gone I’ll be on my way.

As I sit in the old wooden chair I begin to look around at the other patrons. They are gathered in groups of three or four, loud and boisterous as they drink away their troubles and a day's work. One man is passed out on the table top, his friends poking and prodding at his face with no reaction. Someone taps away on the old out-of-tune piano in the corner, playing a song that grits my nerves. 

A few women occupy the bar, but not the kind I mess with. These women are here for a reason. They know we have a little money in our pockets and they plan to get their hands on it in exchange for their time. This is not something I am particularly interested in, despite the urges that naturally invade my mind from time to time. Not that I don’t feel attracted to them, because trust me, I am. I just need more substance and a little depth in my women. To be able to have a conversation that doesn’t revolve around sex. Call me old fashioned, I suppose.

It is rare that I even find myself on this side of town, avoiding it and my brother Joshua at all costs for several years now.  However, the ad in the paper promised good pay in exchange for quality work, and if there is one thing about myself that you should know, it’s that everything I do, I do the right way. I knew they would be happy with my work and I was fully prepared to prove myself. 

It’s been two weeks that I’ve been working the job, arriving just after the foundation was set and the frame was ready to be built. I've done this hundreds of times now, maybe not this scale, but all buildings are built the same way more or less. Working with my hands is what I know. It’s what I’m good at. Just like my father before me. I spent most of the day today putting up walls on the second floor. The stairs took me longer than I anticipated, but I got it done. I always do. 

I take a long pull from my mug, letting the alcohol warm my blood and ease the tension in my neck. My shoulders are sore from hauling lumber upstairs all day, but I’ve felt worse so I can’t really complain. 

I’m about halfway through my beer when the door opening harshly grabs my attention. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he caught wind of my arrival into town, and I knew I wouldn’t be met kindly. Josh steps through the door, his eyes scanning through the tables until he finds me. His eyes narrow as he locks in, pushing chairs out of the way until he gets to me, positively seething and full of fiery fury. 

“Why’re you here?” he demands, slamming his fist on the table, rattling the glass of the dark kerosene lamp. 

I sit back in my chair, unaffected by his anger, much to his dismay. He always was all bark and no bite. He’d been that way since we were boys. 

“I’m here for work, I think you know that though, Joshua.”

“How long,” he seethes, a curl of hair falling to his forehead.

“Couple months, maybe, if all goes to plan,” I answer, my casual attitude only infuriating him further. 

“Don’t fuck with me, Jacob,” he grits out, leaning against the wooden table. His eyes are dark and still the mirror image of my own, though somehow his are different. As if he is completely detached from reality and no longer sees me as his own flesh and blood. 

“Won’t bother you if you don’t make no trouble for me,” I offer, hoping he will accept my suggestion. “I’ll finish this job and you won’t see me ‘round here anymore.”

He raises his eyebrows at me and ticks his jaw to the side as if he's considering my proposition. He then pushes off the table and heads towards the bar without a word. I let out a sigh and take a drink from my mug knowing that conversation could have gone a lot worse. Honestly I expected more after three years of silence. 

A few minutes later I see him slide into the seat across from me, slamming his own mug down on the rickety table. “Fuck,” I groan, suddenly realizing that the conversation is in fact not over. 

“Ya know, I thought about it, but what’s a drink between brothers…” he sneers, flashing a bit of a teeth through his snarl. 

My chest grows tight and my heart rate picks up, an uneasy feeling entering my body as his eyes size me up. I lick my lips and lift my mug towards his, tapping the glasses together. I raise my eyebrow, “Yeah, brothers.”

He takes a long pull from his mug, swallowing down the dark beer. “So, had any nice tail lately?” he asks, catching me off guard. He settles back in his chair, rocking back onto two legs as he waits for my reply.

I haven't spoken to him in three years and he wants to know about my sex life?

“The fuck do you care?” I spit, refusing to answer him. I know exactly where this conversation is going and I will not give him what he wants. 

Josh shrugs at my response, acting unaffected by my unwillingness to play his game. “Just thought maybe you could send some my way.”

I turn my attention to the ladies making the rounds and nod my head towards them, “Could take you home one of them,” I say, catching the attention of a woman behind me I didn’t know was there. 

“Fellas?” she grins, leaning against our table. 

Josh flashes her a smile and she smiles back. Of course. 

“Did I hear you two was looking for some company?” she asks, locking her eyes onto mine. 

I quickly pull my eyes away and look down at my beer, not wanting to answer her. 

“Could be,” Josh answers, deepening his voice. 

Her eyes begin to flick between the two of us and realization hits her. “You two brothers? You look mighty similar.”

“Twins, actually,” I correct, hoping to cure her curiosity.

“Twins, huh? Can’t say I’ve ever been with twins,” she says, pursing her plum colored lips. My eyes scan over her body, curvy in all the right places, with skin softer than anything I’ve touched in a long while, but I refuse to give into her temptation. 

Her hand reaches out and brushes over my forearm, sending a tingle through my body for what feels like the first time in a long time. She moves her fingers in circles over my sun tanned skin, not even caring about the sawdust still covering me. I swallow harshly as I try to will away the desire running through me. I don’t want her, but my body sure does. 

“I’ll tell you what,” she pauses, looking between Josh and I, “I’ll cut you a deal. I like the both of you, so I could do two for the price of one.”

“No–”

“A deal…” Josh ponders, interrupting my refusal. 

She moves to lean on me, pressing her chest into my face in an attempt to change my mind. I see a flicker of fury and jealousy returning to Josh’s eyes as she comes onto me, and I can tell he is about to lash out. 

He snaps his fingers, grabbing her attention, “You know sweetheart, come to think of it, there's no need for a deal. You can keep me company tonight. He will just end up fucking killing you, anyway,” he says, cutting his eyes at me.

Anger takes over my rational brain, and I shove my beer mug forcefully across the table, crashing into his chest and splashing the remnants all over him and the woman. 

“What the hell?!” Josh immediately stands, pushing her off of him as he bucks up at me, trying to gain the upperhand. I stand too, meeting his stature as I stare back at him in disgust. 

“You’re never going to let that go are you?” I shout, no doubt drawing attention to the both of us, just like I was trying to avoid. 

“This is why I ignore you, Josh! This is why I steer clear of this place, this whole damn town! There is nothing I can do or say to get through to you that her death wasn’t my fault!” I grit my teeth as I walk back to snatch my hat off the table. “You just needed me as a scapegoat for your bad choices. You’ve always been this way and you’ll never change!” 

I feel Josh’s hands as they push at my shoulders, sending me stumbling backwards into my chair and into the wall behind me. The pictures on the wall rattle above me, and I can hear the bar attendant starting to shout at us now. 

I know I shouldn’t fight him. I know I shouldn’t, but thanks to the alcohol my inhibitions are gone, and my hands are quickly flying up to defend myself against my own flesh and blood. My hands connect with his shoulders, shoving him away from me as the woman runs off to the other side of the bar, no longer interested in being Josh’s woman of the night. 

Josh grunts out a few profanities as he tries to swing at me, but as if anticipating his next move, I duck out of the way and take him down by the waist. Our scuffle makes its way to the sticky barroom floor, and before he can land a punch on me, we are being dragged out the side door and tossed into the alleyway by the barkeep. 

We both stand, dusting off our clothes of the stale beer and alleyway sludge, the smell putrid and unpleasant as it seeps into the canvas of my trousers. Josh is still cursing at me, gearing up for the next round no doubt. I take in my surroundings as quickly as I can, seeing a number of shady characters lining the dark, musty alleyway. Peddlers, more women, even a few rabble rousers. They seemed intrigued by us, all turning their attention our way as Josh connects a blow right to my face. 

I can hear the crack of my nose as his fist connects with it, blood instantly pouring down my face. He’s broken my nose more times than I can count. My eyes start to water, further obstructing my vision in the dark alley as I rear my arm back in order to return his punch. I connect with his jaw, knocking him back a few steps as he turns his head to spit blood. 

“You killed her! You fucking killed her just to get at me!” he shouts, his teeth red and stained with blood. 

“I didn’t!” I shout. “I told her not to follow me inside, and she didn’t fucking listen to me, Josh! She killed herself!”

“She wouldn’t do that!” he screams, a growl coloring his words. He charges at me, pinning me against the brick wall behind me. I could easily overpower him, but part of me understands his anger. This is his release and it’s been long overdue.

“I shouldn’t have trusted you. She would still be here. My Lizzy would still be with me!” he shouts in my face. I can feel the emotions flowing through him as if they were my own. That’s the funny thing about twins, we share everything. 

“I begged you not to go that night, Josh,” I counter, still remaining tightly in his grip. “I told you to go home to her. To stop gambling your savings away. It would have been you, yelling for her in that fire. I fought for my life trying to get to her! Do you get that? I fucking tried, Josh. I almost died in there trying to save her! It should have been you with her that night, not me!” 

It’s as if his own guilt finally comes to light. A tear streams from his eye as his anger boils over. A scream rips from his chest, primal and laced with rage as something heavy smashes against the side of my head, and my vision quickly fades to black. 

—

The air was already chilling, then, the leaves barely skittering across the ground when a breeze would come through. Joshua and I had met up at the crossroads on our walk home from work, me from the construction of a new bank in the square, and he from the metalsmiths shop.

“I don’t care what you do with her… just keep her entertained until my game is done…” he asked of me as he slipped his arms through his coat.

“It could be the wee hours of the morning by then, Josh, sit this one out for once. Go home to her tonight. You’re about to be wed, for Christ’s sake.” 

As of late, Josh had picked up a gambling habit, secretly tossing he and his fiance Elizabeth’s money away little by little.

He quirked a laugh as we trod down the street. “No see, I’ve got this one in the bag, I can feel it. I’m coming home with my pockets full tonight, brother. Fate is gonna be on my side.”

“Your pockets were empty before you started this nonsense, Josh. Don’t you think you should stop while you’re ahead? Before you lose it all…” I tried reasoning with him. If he wasn’t careful, there would be no money to pay for the wedding Lizzy wanted.

“Just keep her busy, eh? Don’t let her ask any questions…” he argued. “Talk your mind up to her with your wise words that you’re so agile with. I’ll be home before the sun comes up.”

“Fine. Fine!” I threw my hands into the air. “I’ll spend my hard-earned pay on a nice dinner with your fiance. A dinner that you should be enjoying with her. No. I don’t mind at all…” I yelled with sarcasm as we began separating and walking opposite ways.

“Thank you, Jacob. Really. I promise I’ll repay you!”

I scoffed. “You just better be glad she’s good company!”

And really, if Josh hadn’t met Lizzy before me, I might have thought of courting her, myself. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a knack for teaching children. She was easy-going, and came from a good family of hard-working people. She never gloated, and she was very easy to talk to, to get along with. Since she started dating my brother, we’d formed a tight kinship that was nothing more than good conversation and shared meals while Josh was “working”, and as of late, discussing wedding plans.

—

Lizzy and I were walking back to their house after a light dinner, arm in arm as the sun was dipping low in the sky. “You truly don’t have to escort me, Jacob, I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself while Joshua is caught up with work…” my heart ached as I realized the lie we were both telling her. That he was off doing his dealings instead of his “work”, ignoring the fact that she was home waiting for him while I sat in their study making sure she felt safe in her own home. 

“Of course you are, Lizzy, but I wouldn’t have ya eatin’ dinner alone and wandering the streets back home all by yourself. And neither would my brother. Not everyone is as kind-hearted as we are, y’know…” I raised my eyebrows and straightened my shoulders with faux-prestigiousness. 

“Stop with ya theatrics, you and Joshua both. A couple of dreamers, full of aplomb, the both of you,” Lizzy pushed her fingertips into my shoulder as she laughed, obviously a bit embarrassed by my gentlemanly actions. “But your kindness is appreciated.”

I reached into my pocket for my watch, noticing sunset was drawing nearer the further along we walked. Josh could either be finished soon, or he would be hours, still yet. Either way, I sucked in a tight breath and rolled my eyes at the thought of him losing last month’s wages in a bad hand, yet again. 

“Something wrong, Jacob?”

“No, I–” I was cut off by the smell of heavy smoke hitting my nose. I glanced West, seeing thick black clouds of smoke rising into the darkening sky just a few blocks away. “Fire.”

I quickly pulled my arm from Lizzy’s and dashed down the street, the sound of her heels hitting the brick pavers as she followed right behind me. I could feel my heart begin pounding with adrenaline as we rounded the corner, coming up on the chaos. It was Berwick’s Grocer, a two-story building with boarding rooms on the second level. Flames were shooting out of the windows and the front door, with twenty or so people already rushing around trying to stop the burn.

“Jacob!” Lizzy finally caught up to me, both of us out of breath and panting with fear. The heat from the building was already so intense that I could feel it heating my cheeks as we stood out in the street.

Just then Mrs. Berwick, the owner of the grocer ran up to the two of us, her hands grabbing at Lizzy’s. “Ms. Elizabeth…! He’s inside, he’s–he’s still in there!” she cried, her face contorted into a panic that told me the depth of her worry. 

“Who, who?!” Lizzy questioned, leaning into her and gripping her hands back in comfort. 

“My baby, my Benjamin! I couldn’t get to him!” she cried, nearly falling to her knees. “My husband is away, the fire happened so quickly, I–”

I watched as the scene became a blur, the helpless cries of people panicked in the streets, watching in horror as the smoke grew darker and darker in the sky. The flames broke through another window, shattering the glass out onto the street as it began to flash inside the building. Lizzy’s eyes met mine in question, both of us trying to decide what to do.

But I knew then, I had no choice. 

I quickly fastened my jacket as my feet carried me to the side of the building, searching for an alternate entrance inside. I didn’t have a plan, I didn’t have a damned clue about anything. All I knew was that I had to find that boy.

“Jacob, no!” I heard Lizzy cry from behind me. 

“Stay back, Liz! Do not follow me!” I spit over my shoulder.

I made entrance into the building from the side, the smoke thick and black but still untouched by heavy flames here. I began calling out for Benjamin, stepping carefully over the boxes of dry goods and storage as I maneuvered through the rooms. It was nearly impossible to see in the smoke, and I pulled my coat over my mouth and nose to shield myself from it. 

‘I built this building, I know its walls,’ I kept telling myself as I called for Ben over and over and over…

I blindly walked through the narrow halls, relying only on my faint memory of building its skeleton just a few years ago to guide me. Finally, after what felt like hours, I heard his voice calling back out. Small and faint, but there. 

I rushed to the sound of his voice, quickly finding him huddled in a corner. I scooped him up and ran right back toward the way I came, my lungs feeling as though they were full of heavy stones. I quickly removed my coat and covered him with it, telling him to keep his face covered as best he could. I kept him close and protected from the nearby flames, instead taking the licks myself as we passed by them. The child cried in my arms as he clutched on to me, terrified and gasping for air. 

“We’re almost there, Ben. Just hold on to me…” I told him. “It’s alright, just keep your face covered…we’re almost out…”

I saw the light of the door, dispensing him back on the floor and pushing him to run toward it. I heard loud crashes behind me, things falling from shelves and pieces of the ceiling breaking and collapsing. My eyes were blurring, and my skin felt as though it was on fire, itself. 

And then I heard Lizzy’s voice. 

Quiet and back from where I’d just come, she called out for me. 

“Liz! I told you not to follow me! Why are you–” I was cut off again by the sound of exploding tin cans, hundreds of pieces of metal falling onto the floor from a high shelf. I coughed hard as I tried to find her in the thick clouds and rubble.

“Jacob!” her voice screamed, curdled and guttural. That sound alone filled me with more terror than when I’d heard Benjamin.

“Lizzy, come toward my voice!” I yelled, the flames daring to lick more closely, now. My entire body was still full of adrenaline, but more so, fear. Why did she follow me in? Why didn’t she stay behind like I’d asked?!

“Jacob, I can’t breathe!” she screamed.

I felt tears flood my eyes as her voice sounded so graveled, the room around us popping and lurching and exploding as the walls heated and melted. An anchor beam had fallen across the floor, putting a giant burning barrier between the two of us. “Here Liz, here! Come to me!” I urged her, willing her to come to me instead of retreating to a corner where she thought she may be able to hide from the flames. 

I was met with silence. 

“Liz! Liz, can you hear me?!” I coughed, my tongue so dry and my eyes so heavy. “Elizabeth!!!”

No. Not like this. 

I felt my mind begin to leave me, my breaths short and shallow as my body fought for fresh air. I had to turn around, I had no other choice… but Liz…

I stood for as long as I could, wandered around in the darkness, still yelling her name as each breath I took filled my lungs with more of the chalky smoke. I knew that if I stayed any longer, I would surely die of smoke inhalation.

I had no control over my body any longer. It had gone into survival mode on its own, and my legs carried me backwards toward the door, away from the flames, away from the smoke, away from the sound of her voice.

Why, Lizzy?!

I fell backwards out the door, my feet stumbling over one another as strangers’ hands gripped my shoulders and arms and pulled me away from the burning building. My limp body was drug away, and cold water was poured onto my face and limbs. I was coughing, strangling for breath as people surrounded me on the ground and tried to keep me alert and alive. 

I went into a state of shock as my body convulsed, ridding itself of the nerves and fearful adrenaline that had kept me alive for the past few minutes. 

“You saved him, Jacob! My Ben!” I heard the faint sound of Mrs. Berwick’s voice from a crowd behind me. “Thank you, thank you!”

The next few seconds were a flurry of more pulling on my limbs, more cold rags to my face, more shedding of my charred boots and clothing. I could smell the scent of my own burnt skin, and the pain of what was sure to be scarred reminders of this day tattooed on my body for the rest of my life. 

Where is Liz…

I could hear the echo of her voice still in the back of my mind, like a screeching siren begging me to come back and find her. And I knew right then that the sound of her voice would haunt my dreams for all of my years to come. How did this happen? Why did she come inside?

And then when I thought my mind couldn’t get any darker, I felt the familiar hands of my twin rest on my shaking shoulders.

“Jake, Jacob, are you alright? Where is she?! Where is Lizzy?” He helped me move to stand, his eyes devoid of anything other than fearful hope. 

“I–I don’t–”

I could hardly move my lips enough to form words. My tongue was sandpaper, my voice like hot embers sitting in my throat. 

All I could do was stare into the fire, the interior of the building now caving in on itself. People rushed us, pushed us aside and trampled us as they carried buckets of water to try and extinguish the flames. 

“Jacob! Where is Elizabeth!” he demanded, moving to stand in my line of sight. But I couldn’t look at him, I could barely even hear him, the world around me sounding as if I were locked in a glass room. Noises reverberating as I struggled to take a deep breath, struggled to think, struggled to even keep my balance on my feet. Why did she follow me?

All I could do was shake my head. Gently, from side to side as my eyes shot back and forth between the burning building and my mirror image, his face sullen and lips already downshot as he let the news consume him. 

“No. No! She couldn’t, she wouldn’t have– why was she…?” he began to pace, stomping his boots into the ground as hoards of people pushed past us. I became dizzy again, everything overwhelming me as I fought to believe it all, as well. Nothing made sense… just minutes ago we were arm-in-arm making our way back home. Minutes. And now…

I watched as my brother fell to his knees, uncaring of the dirt covering up his already filthy slacks. His head fell into his hands, his fingertips gripping into his curls as he screamed, cried, punched his fists into the ground beside him. My mind willed me to console him, but my body didn’t allow me to move. I was stuck in time and space, unable to do anything but stand there and breathe. Blink. Exist.

My back was to the building now as I noticed darkness had completely fallen. One step I took toward him, and then another, before my already weakened knees buckled, falling to his side as my lungs burned with the feeling of a hundred different kinds of rage. I let my weak arm drape over his shoulders as I fought for my own breath, feeling him shudder beneath it. The pain on the skin of my side was nearly unbearable, now. 

“You–” Josh muttered as he finally looked up to meet my eyes. “This is your fault…” he growled, his jaw clenched. “You’re the reason she’s dead, you’re the reason she burnt up in there…” 

“Wha–Josh, I tried to…” I could hardly push the words from my mouth, my body already shutting down on me. 

“Fuck you!” he yelled, pushing me over onto the dirt. I wretched out in pain as the skin on my side felt like white hot burning fire, worse than the flames that danced around my face just moments ago. “She’s gone! And you were supposed to be watching out for her! It’s your fault! She’d stil–” He couldn’t finish as his rage overtook him again, laying himself into me with weak punches to my face and chest. He was crying through it all, but I could tell he was serious. He truly thought it was my fault. 

And in my clouded thoughts… was it?

I couldn’t even fight back. All I could do was raise my arms over my face to defend the blows. Even in my wildest dreams, I could have never imagined this was how my night would have gone. Blow after weak, shoddy blow he delivered to my face, and I let him. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I should have just gone in further after her.

Maybe I should have died in there, too. 

Finally I felt the weight of him come off of me, seeing that two men had pulled him away and tossed him to the side. Through my burning and bloodshot eyes, I watched as he rolled on the ground, turning to sit and face the scene as his bloodied hands covered his face. He wept, his eyes boring into me with more hatred and sadness than I’d ever witnessed on his face. My mind was racing and blacking out at the same time. 

She’s gone, she’s gone. 

In the blink of an eye, and we aren’t getting her back. 

There my brother and I sat as we watched the chaos surround us, and it was only then I noticed all of the money surrounding us lying all over the ground. Coins and bills scattered in the dirt, ripped in half from our scuffle. He’d won his fucking hand. 

And, for what? A night of revelry lost with the love of his life, gambling on the savings they both had worked so hard to collect. He could have had that, with her, tonight. 

But, had he not gone and had I not escorted Lizzy for the evening, Benjamin may have surely met his bitter end. What’s more, the loss of a life at the brink of a new beginning, or the deliverance of an innocent child back into the arms of his mother?

Why must one fate have the other to exist?

Surely, my own redemption means nothing in this grand scheme. I was just at the right place at the right time. 

One more deep inhale of the smoke was the last thing I remembered before I let the exhaustion overtake me, closing my eyes as my body fell limp to the ground. 

—

1860

The smoke.

It wakes me now, except its scent isn’t the same as it was in my dream. The memory of my own burning skin and charring wood is replaced with the scent of a balmy, earthy smell… a little sweet and a little spicy, as if seasonings and herbs were being boiled to cleanse the air. 

I slowly open my eyes, afraid to get my bearings as I remember why I passed out in the first place. Joshua had hit me hard over the head with something in the alleyway of the bar. The flashback memory had confused me a bit, having to relive one of the worst days of my life in the fire, but then again I dream it all the time. I’m used to the nightmare replaying the night my brother’s fiance died at the fault of my own.

Joshua and I had gotten into another argument. But this time, he’d used more violence than he ever had, by knocking me completely out and bringing me… here, wherever here is. I’m lying on a wooden floor, and the room is lit with candles. My body is sore, but I can move. Everything is unfamiliar, and I’m positive I’ve never been here before. The air is humid and thick, and I think we must be close to water, but I know that is a long way from where we were.

I can hear mumbling from behind me… Joshua’s voice mixed in with another, a female. Her voice is unfamiliar too, so we must be at her dwelling. Where on earth did he bring me? I don’t trust him, I haven’t trusted him since the day of the fire, when he completely blamed the loss of his love on me. For a while, I accepted the blame, feeling a guilt so heavy in my state of depression that I believed it, too. But after some time and some reflecting, I realized there was nothing I could have done that night. She entered the building on her own, she became lost inside after I had warned her against it, and tried as I might, I simply could not save her without in turn losing my own life in the process. 

It was a truly horrific chain of unfortunate events. 

I can’t make out their conversation as they’re being hush, and my head is absolutely throbbing from the mix of the alcohol and whatever the hell Josh hit me over the head with. The blood from my nose is dried on my face, my eyes finally stopped watering, though everything is blurry and distorted as I try and listen harder.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” I hear Josh ask the stranger. 

“Do you doubt me, child?” the female challenges. 

“No, no. Of course I don’t. I just want to make sure this is going to go as smoothly as possible, and I won’t have to bother you again…”

What is going on?

I stir on the floor, moving my limbs as I try to sit up and understand. But Josh pushes me back down, before lifting me to sit in a chair. I can’t fight him, I’m too weak. 

“Tie him down,” I hear the stranger demand of Josh. What?

“No no, please,” I beg as I feel my hands being bound behind me. I begin kicking and fighting as best I can, pulling out every last bit of energy I have. 

“Stay still, Jacob, this will go a lot more smoothly if you just stop moving,” Josh bites with madness in his voice, tying a tight knot around my wrists. With the new feeling of the pain in my arms, my head clears up a bit, and I can see who the stranger in the room is. 

She’s a short woman, dark complected with dark gray hair hanging well below her waist. She’s dressed in what looks to be rags, but they’re colorful… Her head is wrapped in the same material, and dozens of gold and silver chains hang from her neck. Her hands, tattooed and adorned with rings and stones rub over one another as her deep black eyes watch Josh tie me to the chair. 

“Who are you? Where are we?” I ask, my voice now sounding more clear as I come off of the liquor. 

“Shh,” Josh spits in my ear as he ties my feet. 

“You’re in my home, child, no more questions,” she says. I hear wind chimes clinging in the distance as the crow of a bird screeches from a high corner. The candles flicker, almost as if the sound of her voice awakens them. The smell of the burning incense hits my nose again, turning my stomach.

“Why am I here? Let me go!” I fight, trying to free myself, but only learn that his knots are pulled tight. He laughs at my poor attempt. 

“Silence him,” she demands, and another wind blows through the rickety walls of the shack. I hear what sounds like shells clanking and sand falling, and the frogs in the bayou waters outside seem to sing a little louder.

Josh leans down to eye-level with me, and I swear I could spit in his face, if my morals didn’t hold me back. “You heard her, quiet. Not another word, or else we can use more force, if you want us to,” he shows his teeth in a pitiful attempt at a smile, but the light in his eyes left a long, long time ago. 

I scowl at him, cutting my losses as I become more nervous for the reason I am actually here. 

“I’m having a curse placed upon you, Jake,” Josh says as he stands back up. “With the help of my new friend here, Seraphine.” A wild whip of air blows through the home again, making my hair fall in front of my face. Fear settles in my belly at his words, and the darkness in the stranger’s eyes seems to become alight, just for a second as she watches us from her seat in the corner. 

I’ve heard about this magic, a cursed and fearsome magic whose practice dates back generations. It’s dark, and it's harrowing. A divination done correctly can change a man’s life for better or for worse, and from the stories I’ve heard told, it is best to steer clear unless you want your life changed forever. 

“You took the love of my life away from me, so it’s only fair if I subject you to a life of similar fate.” Josh projects as he begins pacing the room, his jaw clenched as he speaks. 

“No–” I contest.

Josh’s hands are suddenly on the arms of the chair I’m tied to, his face within inches of mine as he growls at me once more. “I said silence!”

The two of us stare at one another for what seems like minutes, challenging, gritting, both of us shifting our anger back and forth in the thin air that lies between us. “You took everything from me… all of it, and you’re going to learn exactly what that feels like…”

He stands back up, straightening his coat as he clasps his hands together behind him. I feel the sweat beginning to pool on my forehead as my anxiety settles in. 

“You’ll live out your years with no bounds, no end in sight. While everyone around you, everyone that you love ages naturally and grows old, you’ll stay this age forever. Everyone around you will meet the sweet taste of death, while you sit and watch it happen, over and over and over as you stay trapped here, at this very point in your life,” Josh says. “You’ll forever know what it feels like to crave death, wishing daily for it to take you away from this place just as I do, but you’ll never get to achieve it. You’ll watch everyone around you fall from grace and meet God himself, while you must sit with your sins and be a hostage of the Earth for the rest of eternity.”

I feel all the blood drain from my body as I realize he’s wishing, imposing this fate upon me at the hand of black magic. “Revenge,” I whisper. 

He nods, a sick smile gracing his lips. “Precisely, my brother.”

“How fucking could you?!” I snap a whisper at him, baring my teeth as if I could rip him apart with them.

He howls a long laugh, looking at Seraphine for validation. “How could I? How could you? You’re nothing but a sorry son of a bitch, and now you’re going to get every bit of what you deserve. My sweet Lizzy will have her justice.”

My head spins. “Justice?! Joshua, if I could tell you a hundred more times that her fate wasn’t by my hand, I wou–”

“His blood, Joshua!” Seraphine’s voice trembles across the air, loud and boisterous as the walls shake, the wind it causes nearly blowing every flamed candle out. My ears ring at the sound of it, and for a split second I see evidence of the tiniest bit of fear flash across Josh’s face, but he quickly qualms it. “I haven’t the time for any more arguments!”

Josh rips his knife from his side, opening the blade and slicing the rope that binds my wrists behind me. He grabs a glass vial that’s sitting on the table beside us, already half full of some kind of mix of herbs. Also on the table is a silver platter, a green stone, a bit of hair, and a few other odds and ends that I can’t make out before he raises my hand, slicing the skin of my palm until I feel blood dripping from it. I scream out in surprised pain as he collects the blood in the vial, capping it quickly and setting it back in the center of the silver platter. I get a head rush from the pain, and he ties my wrists behind me again. My eyes grow heavy as I hear words of accolades from Seraphine. 

“Good, Joshua, good…”

I feel like I’m about to pass out again as I feel more wind blow across my face, and a new smell drifts across my nostrils. There’s almost a sound of music in the air, but it doesn’t carry a melody, nor does it have a tune. It’s a blend of a thousand instruments that have no weight to them at all, but more so just noise and racket. I hear whispers in my ears as if ten people are standing next to me and in front of me, all speaking a different language from the one next to it. I’m dizzy, I’m confused, and I feel as if I could vomit, but what I feel the most is the scar on my side from the fire all those years ago. The skin is blazing, shocks running through it as if it were being burned all over again. 

I hear Seraphine’s voice, deep and gritty as she begins to recite an incantation. 

“By this blood the spell is cast, to weave your fate through ages vast. In realms of shadow, dark and deep, where time’s eternal echoes sleep.”

“With ancient might and words of old, your endless journey shall unfold. Through ages long and tales profound, in endless life, you shall be bound.”

“Forevermore, through realms of light, in days of dark and endless night. In time’s embrace your soul shall roam, a drifter in the vast unknown.”

Her hands are suddenly on my head, pressing down into my skull as if her life depended on it. My breathing begins to pick up, and I feel myself lose all control of my muscles. An energy flows through my system and all I can see in my mind are Seraphine’s eyes, hollow and black as she laughs at me, taunting me. 

This is it, I have met my fate, and there is nothing I can do about it. All at the hands of my brother, the one I entered this world with. My flesh and blood. He’s now taken measures so horrific so as to take away my entire future. Or give me more of it, I suppose. I’ll never love the same way again, knowing that I will be burdened with watching the end of it like the last petal falling from a late summer bloom. Nothing will be the same. Nothing will feel the same. I hope his revenge tastes sweet, because cursing me by the hand of black magic may end his life in such a way that he, too, did not see coming.

—

One Month Later

I’m lodged between two pieces of lumber, holding myself upright at the apex of a gable as I drive the last nail into the board. My fellow crewmen and I have been working tirelessly on this boarding house for over a month now, and finally we are seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Drink, Jacob?” I’m offered a canteen by my friend John, of which I graciously accept. I look out over the land, the early Autumn air barely peeking through the still-harsh sunlight. I’m a man of few words these days, ever since that night my brother kidnapped me and took me to that woman’s shack. I haven’t been the same since. My mind tends to drift, and I find myself finding new things to dwell over… things that I hadn’t thought of before, now that I am apparently unable to age. 

I’d woken up that next morning in a nearby grove of trees a little ways from where Seraphine’s home was. Josh was nowhere to be found, I knew he wouldn’t show his face again. Not after that. He knew I would probably kill him. 

I felt the same, yet different. It’s hard to explain, and it could be all in my head. And I’m yet to know if the curse even worked. I won’t even know until a few years from now, if I start to see wrinkles on my own skin. 

I don’t know how to think anymore. I don’t know how to live my day to day life. Things seem so uniform and monotonous, and I hope that the rest of my life won’t find me dwelling this way.

“Everything well with you, mate? You’ve seemed a bit off here lately,” John asks as we take a second to wipe the sweat from our brows as we perch on the unfinished high roof of the building. 

I shrug. “Guess so, just feelin’ a bit down, y’know.”

“Season is about to change, you following the next job when we finish here?” he asks, taking another swig from the canteen. 

“If life allows it,” I reply, still feeling so unsure about any and everything. Just then, my eye is caught by someone walking the grounds down below, a woman dressed in a white dress and hat, carrying a parasol over her shoulder as she wanders with another woman. I can hardly see her face from up here, but just from the way she carries herself, I can tell that she is beautiful. “Who is that?” I ask him.

His eyes follow mine. “Oh, that’s Ms. Y/N, the daughter of Mr. St. Lemire. Quite the pretty one, I say.” I see the sunlight catch her face as she cranes her neck up to see us, and just as I suspected, her beauty nearly makes me fall straight onto the unfinished floor of this boarding house. “Lives under her father’s thumb though, so I’ve heard.”

I realize then that I haven’t taken a breath since the second I saw her. My chest tightens, and I finally inhale. “Is that so,” is all I manage. 

“Mmhm. Fellow that started the job with us tried to ask her name once, offer her an escort to get shade under a tree, he was fired the next day,” John explains, drawing my attention away from her. 

“Is that true?” I ask, my interest suddenly piqued. 

“Sure as hell is. Off limits. A damned shame, too. She’s shinier than a new penny.”

I feel myself become suddenly intrigued with the thought of me trying to escort her to get shade under a tree. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the soft touch of a woman. But the other man was fired for even speaking to her, and I need this job, I need this pay. Maybe I can find another way. Lord knows at this point, I have little left to lose.

—

Days pass, and Ms. St. Lemire still graces us with her presence at the construction site almost daily. I don’t know why she does, she has little to no use being here, except distracting the lot of us from doing our jobs. I keep to myself though, as the wandering eyes of the others follow her every move each day she visits. Some days she’s with her father, some days she’s with a few other ladies, but she has yet to be by herself. My friend must have been right about her living under her father’s thumb. 

The workday was about to end one Friday afternoon, and Ms. Y/N had been waltzing around the property with another woman while we cleaned up our tools and wasted nails from the site. I hid my wandering eyes underneath the brim of my hat, only peeking from under it every so often so as to catch glimpses of her. I wouldn’t swear to it, but on occasion I think she may have been looking, too. But I’d never acknowledge it. 

“Evenin’, Ms. St. Lemire, care to indulge with me down at the pub after supper?” I heard one of the men from the sawmill speak from across the lawn. He must not have heard about the other man being fired.

“Oh, no, thank you, I don’t imbibe,” I heard her voice for the very first time, soft but a bit more rugged than I had imagined. He hair fell in a long thick braid down her back, a cream colored ribbon fastened at the end.

“Now,” the man pressed, “not even wine?”

She shook her head as I continued to work, stealing a glance every few seconds. “No. Only on holidays,” she replied, looking to her friend as they both share a giggle. 

“Is every day not a holiday that God has given us, ma’am?” he goes on, obviously pressing more after she had sternly declined. 

“Sure, but not every day is worth celebrating with libation. Good day,” she bites, offering him a nod as she begins to walk away. 

“Oh, come on, let a man show you a good time!” he demands as he catches her, his hand on her waist as she turns, leaving what looked to be a fairly dark mark of dirt and sawdust all over the back of her light blue dress. 

I stand. She turns quickly, ripping her dress from his grasp while her other white-gloved hand slaps him right across the face. The crew erupts with gasps and surprised laughter. “Do not ever touch me again, and do not ever insist upon a lady after she has clearly said no,” she barks, her finger in his face.

I think I just fell in love.

My eyes are bulging from my head, just the same as everyone else on the job, all of us unable to speak after witnessing that spectacle. My Lord, am I impressed.

Her friend pulls her by the hand back toward their horse and carriage as our foreman comes charging toward the group that had gathered. 

“What in the hell is going on here?!” he asks, and we all stay silent. “Someone give me a god damned answer or there will be no break for lunch all next week…”

One man clears his throat and averts his eyes toward the man in question, and I watch as the foreman goes toward him, ready to question the entire scene. Before he does, though, he notices the group’s silence. “Back to work, all of you! Still an hour’s worth of the job to finish! Go!” I make myself look busy until I hear his voice again. 

“Jacob! Attend to Ms. St. Lemire at her carriage, her coachman has gone to relieve himself in the woods. Water the horses,” he demands, and given the state of his rage, I know better than to attest to that. 

I take off walking behind Ms. St. Lemire and her friend, barely keeping up as they are walking rather quickly toward the carriage. I can see the fire raging through her as she walks; no longer is she carrying herself with the same grace she usually holds. She’s mad, and she’s embarrassed.

Her friend steps up into the carriage first, and offers Y/N her hand for help just as I reach them. She steps on the edge, and her shoe slips off the ledge, making her stumble and nearly fall backwards. “Whoa, ma’am, careful,” I say as I catch her back on my shoulder and arm. She squeals out of surprise and tries to steady herself, her hand slipping out of her friend’s. I help her to get her footing on the ground as she turns to look at me, her bodyweight going limp for a fraction of a second as she finally stands up on her own again. I raise my eyebrows in question as her eyes meet mine, sparkling in the late evening sun. “Are you alright?” I ask. 

She clears her throat. “Yes, um, fine, fine, thank you–” she stands, taking her friend’s hand again and successfully stepping up into the carriage. I nod, making my way to the front of the carriage to tend to the horses. I take a few steps to the side of the road where the water supply is, fetching a metal bucket and pumping water into it. I try not to pay attention, but I can’t help but notice Ms. Y/N and her friend quietly whispering to one another while avoiding my eyes. I keep myself busy letting the horses drink, petting them and speaking quietly to them. I can still feel the feeling of her rested on my shoulder, and the smell of her light perfume still dances across my nose.

“Sir,” she speaks up, catching my attention. 

“Yes Ma’am?” I answer, coming out from my hiding spot behind the horses.

“I just wanted to thank you for breaking my fall,” she says, her friend snickering behind her shoulder. “I surely would have landed in the dirt, and ruined my dress, hadn’t you caught me,” she smirks. 

I feel a wave of confidence and anxiousness roll over me at the fact that she’s speaking to me. Thanking me, when all I had done for weeks now was admire her from afar. 

“Not a problem, Ma’am, though I think George over there might have actually left his stained handprint on your dress…” I say. “May have gotten dirty, anyway.”

She turns and pulls the skirt of her dress to the side as they both inspect it. She clicks her tongue as she sees the dark black dusty stain. “Ah, no matter. Nothing a quick wash can’t fix,” she says with a quipped smile. She clasps her hands back in her lap. 

The two of us stare at one another for a beat, unsure of what to say next. 

“I um, I’m sorry he… that he was so insistent with you just then, men can truly be dastardly,” I say, pulling my rag from my back pocket to wipe my hands free of any more sawdust.

She laughs. “That they can,” she smiles, extending her hand out in front of her for me to shake. “Y/N, pleasure to meet you Mr…”

I brush my hand across my shirt for one last attempt at ridding myself of dirt. “Jacob, pleasure is mine, Ma’am.” Her hand isn’t as gentle as I’d imagined. Her handshake is steady and forceful, and her eyes lock on mine as she repeats my name back to me. The sound of that, god, I’ll be replaying in my head for weeks. 

“You’re um, you’re the daughter of the boss man, I hear?” I try to break the silence that had fallen as her hand drops from mine. 

“I am. Unfortunately,” she quips, earning another chuckle from her friend. 

I’m taken aback. “Ma’am?” 

She lets out a loud sigh. “Oh, being the daughter of a very wealthy and very religious man has its perks, I suppose, but there’s nothing like the realization that I won’t ever get to make my own decisions or live my own life, you know?”

At first, I’m astounded by her sudden willingness to share something this personal with a stranger, but her personality seems to reflect that she doesn’t even really care who knows it. 

“I’m sure it could be… trying, at times,” I try and understand, running my hand along the belly of the horse.

“Trying isn’t the word, Jacob. Far from it,” she clicks her tongue again as her gaze diverts back to the work site. “It’s a miracle he lets me take my afternoon outings to come here, let alone that he allows me out of the house at all.”

“Ah,” I say, nodding slowly. 

“You aren’t one of those dastardly men you mentioned, are you?” she asks, cocking her head. 

I bite my lips in, surprised at her forwardness again. “No, no ma’am. I don’t like to think I am, at least.” 

“I don’t believe you are, either,” she replies, and I walk closer to the carriage. 

“And how could you be so sure?” I press, cocking an eyebrow as I let my elbows rest on the side of the carriage. 

“You’ve been nothing but a gentleman yet. Called me nothing but Ma’am even after I told you my name. Apologized on another man’s behalf, and… you care for my horses,” she says, smiling a sweet, coy smile that nearly knocks me to my knees. I’m left speechless, and I can feel my cheeks burning with shyness. 

Instead, I bring my hand back up to the horse. “I was raised with them.”

“Admirable. So you must know them well.”

“A bit, my father kept a barn when I was a boy, taught me how to care for them,” I reply.

“Hm,” she says, averting her eyes to the coachman returning back from his escape to the woods. “We’ve got a pregnant mare back at home, our first experience with one. Maybe you could assist us when her time comes? Should be within the next week…” she proposes, refastening the satin ribbon at the end of her braid. 

“I could, perhaps. If your father and the foreman allowed me a day from work,” I say, knowing that I have plenty of experience in that department. 

“I’ll arrange it,” she says as the coachman takes his place. “Father will be sure to accept the help. Especially from someone who already works for him.” She raises her hand to wave just as the carriage takes off. “Nice to meet you, Jacob.”

I raise my hand as well, watching as the dirt kicks up behind the wheels. “Likewise, Ms. Y/N.”

—

Day and night, I think of her. She’s infiltrated my dreams, the sound of her voice still playing like a song in the back of my mind. We’ve only spoken once, that day she slapped George, but it seems as though that’s all the time I needed to know that she already holds a very special place in my heart. It isn’t often that I let a woman in like that, hell, I’ve only ever had one serious relationship my whole life, and it was when I was fifteen and thought I was in love. That feeling gave me an inkling though, all those years ago, of what love may actually be. And though we grew up and went our separate ways, I’ve still searched high and low for that longing feeling that I had in my chest. 

And I felt it that day when Ms. St. Lemire fell off of her carriage and into my arms. 

I can’t explain it. I’m almost embarrassed to admit the amount of space she takes up in my thoughts. I’ve nearly forgotten the fact that my brother laid a curse upon me. My thoughts are taken up by something else, now. A distraction from the fact that my fate is sealed. Her face is the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. I find myself wondering how her lips would feel pressed to mine, how her skin would feel under my rugged touch. How her voice would sound saying my name over and over…

But no. There’s no way a woman like her would ever find interest in a scoundrel like myself. I’m too lowly for her liking, surely. And the fact that her father would probably never let me near her enough to even say hello. No. Surely her life is already planned for her, her husband probably already chosen to keep the family fortune alive long after Mr. St. Lemire’s death. I have no hope, but still yet, I let my mind pretend it exists. 

—

I’m drying my hands off after I’ve cleaned them thoroughly, watching as Y/N sits in the hay with her back against the barn wall. She’s admiring the brand new foal as we give them space, watching intently as it nurses on its mother.

“That was… quite the experience, Jacob,” she mutters through a tired smile, the toes of her riding boots knocking together. “Not sure she would have made it had you not come to her rescue.”

“Oh, she would have been fine,” I say. “Your hands here had it covered,” referencing the other three men who helped to run the barn. 

“I’m not so sure,” she says. “I’m just glad we went and fetched you when we did.” Her hair is a mess and tangled all over her face, her clothing covered in hay and mud from our very eventful afternoon. A carriage had rolled through the construction site midmorning, the coachman yelling for me. He’d announced that the horse was in labor and having a difficult time, so I hopped in and we were at the barn within half an hour. I’d never tell her, but I was glad they got me when they did, too, or else we may have been burying the poor things. 

“Will you stay for supper, Jacob?” she finally speaks again after I’ve taken the spot on the ground across the stall from her. 

“Oh no, I couldn’t, thank you. I’ve got a long walk home, and sunrise comes early,” I say, fighting a yawn. I pull my knife from my side and begin peeling at the grime that is caked under my fingernails. 

“You live to work, don’t you?” she asks gently. “You truly love it?”

I nod. “I do, I’ve always loved to build. Work with my hands, my father and I built a barn about this size when I was a child. He taught me everything I know about laborin’.” I left out the part that Josh helped, too, not wanting her to delve into that detail of my life.

“Well he taught you well,” she says through that sweet smile. I swear that I could sit here and talk with her about absolutely nothing for days on end. 

“Thank you, Ma’am. So… why do you frequent our job site so often, if you don’t mind me asking?” I have wanted to ask her this question for a while, but was unsure about it. 

She takes a deep breath. “My Father wants it to be mine when it’s completed. Wants me to have a sense of purpose, running the boarding house. My husband and I, that is.”

There it is. 

My chest clenches. “Oh,” I reply. “I was unaware of your status, I apologize.” I shut my knife back up, and begin to stand. 

“Oh, no, it’s–” her eyes drag longingly to mine, and I cock my head in question. I shouldn’t stay here any longer if she is already spoken for. My job here is done. 

“He’s away, he travels with my father a lot for work, for business…” she says, her voice fallen. “I–I’ve only ever met him a handful of times, actually.”

I slowly sit back down. “...You’ve only met him a few times? And you’re to marry him?” 

She nods, her face contorting as she breathes in a chopped breath. I stay quiet, quite unsure what to ask next. 

“It’s been the plan since I was a young girl, marry a man within the church, devote my life to him and our work, have his children, and that’s that,” she says tilting her head to the side as she avoids my eyes. 

“...And that’s that.”

“I’m– I don’t believe that that is how I want my life to go, Jacob,” she admits, biting her lip. I’m surprised again at her forwardness. 

“Isn’t it?” I ask. “Why is that?”

Finally she does look at me. “Because he is fourteen years my senior.” There can’t be much difference in age between the two of us, maybe a year or two either way. I’d ask if she is twenty-five as well, but I figure it rude to ask a lady her age. 

I sigh. “That’s a bit of time,” I reply, trying to sound neutral.

“It is. It’s way too much time. I know it seems a normal gap when it comes to marriages but, not for me. That isn’t what I want. Especially not with…” she stops herself, sitting up straighter against the barn wall. “Anyway. It must be nearing time for me to return home.” She stands suddenly, and I follow suit. She extends her hand out to me again. “Thank you, Jacob, for all of your help today.”

I clear my throat. “Anytime, Ma’am, please just let me know if there is anything else I can do to help,” I offer, giving her hand a little extra squeeze as I grip it in mine. Just like lightning bolts.

I watch as her chest turns red. “I will, we will. And please, call me Y/N. See you next time.”

She pulls her hair back from her face as she gives me one last look as we part ways in front of the barn, and I head toward home.

—

Two days pass with only a few sightings of Y/N, and nothing more than passing glances and head nods come from either of us. I chalk it up to her not wanting someone to see us interacting, then reporting back to her father. I trust it, but it still feels as though she seeks me out. Watches me until I notice her so that she can offer me a smile. If only she knew that my days wouldn’t be the same without them, anymore.

That next morning, though, the coachman had come to collect me from the site again, informing me that the foal had begun to exhibit signs of distress in the late hours last night. Again we travel the half hour to the homestead and I gently approach the stable where we had left them before. The stable was clean and bright. I could tell there were several people attending to it at all times. Every tool and piece of equipment you could ever need was in that barn, and I felt envious that I was not raised with such fineries. A small brown paddle boat leans against the side of the barn, a paddle resting against the wall in the morning sun. I step into the barn and there I see an exhausted Y/N leaned against the stable door, her chin in the crook of her elbows, watching on as the mare tends to her baby. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask, startling her. 

“Oh, Jacob,” she perks up. “The foal, he is acting strange. Will hardly nurse, he’s been rolling around…” 

I quickly walk into the stall, greeting both animals. “Has he defecated?”

“Very little, but yes,” she answers, following me in. I squat and run my hand along the foal’s belly, racking my brain as I think back on all that my father had taught me about colic. 

“How many times an hour does he nurse?” I ask. 

She runs her hand over her face, obviously very worried. “Two, maybe three?”

“He may be a bit dehydrated. He needs to nurse seven, maybe eight times an hour.” I take a wet rag from a bucket and clean the mother’s underside as best I can, then try and assist the foal in trying to suckle again. “Sometimes their feedings need supplemented, and he may, but try and just make sure he is eating often, for a few minutes each time,” I instruct. I know that the animals will require care and monitoring through the day and into the evening, so I tell her that. 

“I’ll send someone to tell the Foreman that you need to stay here, with me, and help…” she says, still a mess as she worries herself to death. “I’m sure they can all handle the worksite without you, today.”

“Lots of trust you put in those men, Ma’am,” I joke as I grab a brush and run it along the mare’s back.

“I told you to call me Y/N, Jacob,” she jests, coming to join me at the mare’s side. She’s dangerously close to me, closer than she has been since she stumbled back onto me that day. My heart rate rises, hearing our names said together.

I hand her the brush. “I know you did, but I still feel it to be improper. I would only call my friends by their first names,” I say lowly as she begins brushing the horse at an odd angle.

Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second. “Friends,” she mumbles. “Wouldn’t you think of us as… that? As friends...”

I swallow my pride as her eyes bore into mine. I gently place my hand overtop of hers, guiding her hand in a more comfortable way to brush. “I’d like to be considered as such,” I reply, my hand gripping overtop of hers more sternly, now. I can’t help myself.

I watch as she swallows, too, my hand guiding hers. “Then it’s considered,” she breathes, moving her face just a little closer to mine. I can hear my heart in my ears, my palm sweating where it touches her hand. “I’ll not answer to ma’am again,” she whispers, her eyes flitting from my eyes to my lips. 

I’m fighting everything within me not to kiss her, not to give in to her proximity and finally feel the closeness I’ve been craving so desperately. But I push through it. The woman is betrothed. 

Our faces are nearly touching, only inches of thick air separate us. I can hardly breathe, let alone think. But I must speak…

“As you wish, Y/N,” I say gently, her name tasting like sweet summer honey on my tongue. I can feel her breath on my lips, all of my nerve endings on fire as she breathes in the way I said her name. The brush falls onto the ground but our hands stay clasped as she turns to me fully, and I grip her hand tighter, pulling her into me. She takes my opposite hand and holds it like the first, our noses now barely brushing. I can hear her ragged breathing as she holds herself back, and I know better than to make any more moves. So I just wait, clenching my teeth together so I don’t let my urges get the best of me. I squeeze her hands in mine as she rises on her tiptoes, our foreheads now balancing on one another’s. God, this woman is everything…

“Say it again, Jacob,” she whispers, her lips almost on mine.

“Y/N, Y/N… Y/N…” I sing over and over like a hymn to the heavens, wanting to say nothing but her name for the rest of eternity. What a joke that is, since eternity is apparently all that I have. But her name on my tongue is unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. She lets out the smallest whimper at the sound of it, and I have to envision ropes tying me down to stop myself from letting my demons win.

Her hand rises to rest on my chest, likely feeling my speeding heart. “You’re anxious, Jacob,” she teases as my worry comes true. 

“Of course I am, look at you,” I mutter, honestly. 

“What, covered in sweat and hay and manure? Sure,” she laughs a little, pulling away as our eyes meet again, and our hands disconnect. 

I push a strand of hair from her eye. “Yes, and it’s beautiful,” I say honestly, again. 

I watch her cheeks rise with pink. “Don’t flatter me.”

I clear my throat. “My apologies, if I was forward.”

Her hand reaches up, her thumb brushing on my lower lip, removing what felt to be a speck of dirt. The action nearly knocks me on my back, the soft pad of her finger so close to where I could just…

“Not forward. No apologies,” she demands, her voice deeper than normal. She steps backward as we both breathe, and collect ourselves. We stand there for a good fifteen seconds, just staring at one another. My chest is rising and falling now, just from watching her watch me. The tension is so thick I could–

“Ms. St. Lemire!” I hear a man’s voice from the front of the stable. “Shall I let the Foreman know we’ll need assistance all afternoon?”

She clears her throat and shakes her head free of her seemingly intrusive thoughts. “Yes, um, yes please, Winston, if you don’t mind!”

“Not in the least, Ma’am,” he says, and I hear his footsteps retreating.

She clears her throat again as we are both relieved that we weren’t caught those fifteen seconds ago. “My father will be home soon, from his travels,” she breathes, laying a steadying hand on the mare still beside us. 

“And your fiance?” I say before I can stop myself.

“I haven’t got a ring on my finger, Jacob,” she barks, swallowing harshly as if she is offended, or maybe just mad at the fact I brought him up. But she’s telling me true, there’s no ring on her hand to indicate her status. 

“...And?” I press, a little confused. “I thought you said they travel togeth–”

“Yes. They will return home together. And I will have to go with him, I haven’t got a choice,” she says, crossing her arms as she shakes her head. 

I leave it at that, there’s not much that I can say. Her life has been decided for her, and though it seems that their plan goes against everything that she actually wants, I’m positive she doesn’t have a dog in her own fight.

—

Later that evening after I’d spent most of the day showing the barn hands more ways to care for the foal, Y/N returns from her afternoon duties at the homestead to find me taking a catnap in the barn stall. 

“Sleeping on the job, Jacob?” I’m awoken by her sweet voice. I lift my hat from covering my eyes, finding her in the same clothing from earlier this morning. She tosses me a green apple, and I barely catch it as my sleep is still barely escaping me. 

I sit up. “This for me, or for the mare?”

“You. This is for the mare. She prefers a red apple,” she says, offering the mare the fruit as she pets her nose. 

I smile and stand, noticing my stomach growling as soon as I take a bite from the Granny Smith. She disappears for a second, but returns back with another horse, a male Appaloosa. “Come on, want to show you something,” she says as she nods her head for me to follow her out of the barn. 

“But the foal–” I say, replacing my hat.

“The hands will tend to them. Come on, evening is setting in,” I hear her voice from outside. When I finally exit the barn, I find her mounted bareback on the horse, one hand on his mane and the other shielding her eyes from the evening sun. “Hop on, come on.”

My eyes widen at her offer, and I freeze, unsure that what I am seeing is truly real. “Jacob, come on! Hurry!” she orders again. 

I decide to cut my losses, so I take a little run, launching myself up onto the horse with the help of her hand. He’s a smaller horse and still young, yet, but I can tell he has a lot of heart. She begins trotting him to the wooded area behind the barn, and as he picks up speed, I’m completely unsure of what to do with my hands. It’s been a while since I’ve ridden this way as a passenger. 

“Hold on!” she instructs, and as the horse begins to run as we rush through the woods, I have no choice but to wrap my arms around her waist. She guides the horse over the grassy trail, expertly avoiding rocks and hillsides as if she’s ridden all her life. And if I had to guess, she probably has. My arms grip tightly around her as I have no choice but to do so, but I still try to keep them at a respectful level. 

After a few minutes, we enter into a clearing, the deep orange setting sun peeking through the leaves and casting a fire-like glow to the air. She slows the horse as I look over her shoulder, seeing a small pond with an old dock built right out into the middle of it. The water looks fresh and clean, and I can tell that though the dock is old, it’s still in good shape. 

“Where have you brought me, Y/N?” I ask, leaning into her ear just a bit as the horse rounds a tree. “And who is this?”

“To my most favorite place in the world,” she says, stepping off the horse and onto the ground. I follow after her as she ties him to a tree. “And this is Silas. Silas the Great, actually,” she introduces me to the horse. “I took him under my wing five years ago, he was injured and we nursed him back to health. I sat all day and all night in the stable with him, just so he knew he wasn’t alone. Now we’re a bit inseparable,” she says, touching her nose to his. My heart swells, never have I met a woman with a passion nearly the same as my own. Maybe more so, even. 

“Nice to meet you, Silas the Great,” I say, running my hand down his side. “You uh, kind of surprised me… I didn’t expect you–”

“To know how to actually ride a horse? Mm, well if that surprised you, then so will the reason I brought you here,” she says as she turns and walks toward the dock, unbuttoning her riding vest. Next, her hands are gripping at the bottom of her white blouse. She rips it right over the top of her head, tossing it behind her as she turns back to look at me. Then comes her corset. She pulls at its ties behind her until it loosens, and she steps free of it.

Again, I stand frozen. …What?

She then undoes her belt, and kicks off her pants and riding boots as she stands on the weathered wood of the dock. “You coming?” she yells as she continues to undress.

“Ma’am, uh, Y/N, I don’t think this is appropriate,” I say, trying to look anywhere but at her undressing herself. 

“What, rinsing off the straw and sweat from the day? Don’t you want to get cleaned up?” she teases though a side smile. 

I open my mouth to speak, and my brain tells my legs to walk, but I can’t. I’m simply stunned, and she’s standing there in her undergarments, begging me to dive into the water with her. She lifts her pointer finger to tell me to come, so I beckon every bit of nervous energy I have and walk down the slight decline to the water’s edge, gently kicking my boots off into the dirt. 

She watches me intently, feeling no embarrassment or shyness in the least from standing before me, a complete stranger, in almost nothing. I walk slowly to the dock, unbuttoning my shirt with shaking hands as I’m terrified someone is going to catch us. I pull my arms from my sleeves and let the shirt fall behind me, and I swallow the lump in my throat as my hands reach my belt buckle. I pull it from the loops, so slowly that I almost stop altogether if it weren’t for her eyes telling me to get on with it. 

I’m finally before her in my undergarments, and try as I may, keeping my excited self hidden behind them is becoming more and more trying, especially since I can see her nipples through her thin white undergarments. She’s absolutely astoundingly gorgeous. 

“Your hat, Jacob,” she laughs, tapping on her own head. “Unless you’d like to wash it, too.”

I swallow, plucking it from my head and tossing it onto my boots beside me. She smiles, offering me a satisfied look as she turns and dives head first into the water. She re-emerges a few seconds later, brushing the wet hair away from her eyes. “Ooooh!” she exclaims. “A little cold but it feels great, come on!” 

Who is this woman, and where has she been all my life?

I close my eyes and send up a quick prayer of thanks and good luck, and I take a deep breath, hurling myself into the water. She’s right. It isn’t warm, but the refreshment clears my mind and wakes me up more than the ride here, and when I surface, her bright smiling face is right in front of me, her hands gripping my face as I catch my breath. 

“Your face is filthy, Jake,” she laughs as her soft hands rub water over my cheeks and forehead, and I can hardly see straight as she calls me by my nickname. No one’s called me that in a very, very long time. 

I’m still shocked and I know she can tell; it’s as though her comfortability with me increases with every passing second. I know better than to argue it. So I let her clean my face, her thumbs and the pads of her fingers gently running over my eyes and jawline… and suddenly I feel a chill come over me, but not from the temperature of the water. 

I can’t pull my eyes from her as we both fight to stay afloat in the water. The way it’s reflecting off her face, making her eyes look like diamonds as they scan over me. Her lips so perfectly shaped as the corners curl up into a smile as she continues cleansing my cheeks from the mess of the day. “There,” she says. “All better.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice deciding to leave me just like all my thoughts have. It’s like the most perfect moment that I never want to end, and I hardly even know this woman. She slowly separates from me and swims to the dock, hoisting herself onto it and sitting with her legs dangling in the water. She wrings her hair out and wipes her eyes, watching as I swim over to join her. 

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” she says quietly. 

“Yes.” I tilt my head back into the water and run my fingers through my long hair, ridding it of any pieces of straw that have lodged themselves there over the past couple of days. 

“I’ve been swimming here since I was a child. I think the water is healing, magical, even. I always leave here feeling like a whole new person. My own little oasis,” she explains, turning her face to the remnant sunbeams as she reclines on her hands. I hoist myself onto the dock to sit beside her, still feeling just the least bit uneasy at our lack of no translucent clothing. 

“Well thank you for sharing it with me,” I say.

She grins. “You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” 

I laugh a little. “Ah, I don’t know, am I?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “Tell me about yourself. Tell me somethin’ you do, besides build boarding houses and take care of foals.”

I lick my lips as I look out over the glittering water, admiring the willow trees hanging out over it. I grip the necklace that lives around my neck in my hand, holding the heavy silver charm between my fingers. I’ve never taken it off, since the day Josh gifted it to me. It was one of the very first things he made in his shop once he became a master silversmith. Though the two of us have become enemies, I still can’t bring myself to remove it. 

“Well, not much really,” I explain, holding back the fact that I am apparently going to stay twenty-five for the rest of eternity. “I devote myself to work, leave myself little time for much else.”

“Hm. No friends, family, no other hobbies?” she asks. 

I shake my head slowly as I turn to her. “No more family,” again, I keep Josh from conversation. “I guess I enjoy going on long walks, learning history, telling stories… spending my last spare coins on a beer or two to reward myself for a long work week,” I shrug. “Not much to me.”

“I think there’s more to you than you realize, Jake,” she says, her eyes searching mine. Again, my heart drops at her use of my name, and the way her eyes look at me as if I’m the only person left on earth. “You were the one that saved that boy, Mrs. Berwick’s son, from the fire… weren’t you?”

My breath catches as I nod slowly. 

“And you were burned pretty badly, your side, here…” she says, motioning to the now healed burn marks along my ribs. “You saved that boy’s life, I remember you were the talk of the town, all over the newspapers… it was you.”

“Right place, right time,” I shrug, trying to calm her talk of heroism. 

“But there was also a fatality, that day, wasn’t there? A woman, did you know her?” she presses. I feel a chill run over my body again, and I close my eyes for a second as the memory floods back.

“I did. She was a…friend,” I swallow.

She pauses, and nods in understanding. “I’m sorry you couldn’t save them both.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” I admit, more to myself than to her. There’s a lull in the conversation as we both breathe in the evening air, giving a moment of silence for the life lost that day. Finally after a minute or so, she reclines back onto the dock, her arms splayed out above her head. I try to avert my eyes from her chest, falling so perfectly. But then, I join her. 

“Do you ever think about running away, Jake? Just packing a bag, and getting on a horse and riding until you can’t see what you’ve left behind you?” she asks, her voice high-pitched and longing. 

I watch as a crow lands in the tree above us, rustling a few leaves to fall and float through the air. “Sometimes,” I say. 

“I think about it all the time. Just leaving. Heading north, probably.” 

I swallow, feeling her elbow barely touching the side of my head. “But, your father, your fiance, your business…”

“I don’t care about any of that. None of it truly belongs to me, it’s all been handed. It’s all been planned, you know?” she breathes, looking at the sky. “I don’t want to live out the rest of my days under the thumb of a man who’s decided my every move since I was born, only to marry another one who will continue to do the same exact thing. Who doesn’t even love me…” she blinks.

“I’m sure he cares very deeply for you, Y/N.”

“No. No he doesn’t, Jacob. The man couldn’t care less about me. He’s–he’s the most unkind person I’ve ever met. Brash and difficult, rude in many ways. Uncaring and hateful. Tries to keep me happy by buying me nice things, sending me gifts. I’ve only kissed him once, and it sent an emotion through me that I’ve never felt. Something bad, something ominous,” she says. “He may care for me on the surface, but I can tell that he knows he will be miserable with a woman fourteen years his junior, just as I feel.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I let her keep going.

“I dream of having a love so fierce that I can hardly sleep at night, for fear of losing a single second of time. A life so free that I look forward to each morning. I want to feel my life, Jake. Not wish for the day that I don’t have to live it anymore.”

Her words hit me like a train. Never has anyone opened up to me this way, before. And for some reason, I feel the need to help her. It’s ironic, here she is telling me that she wants to feel her life come alive around her, while I’m moping at the fact that I will have to live each and every day not knowing if I’ll ever see the end, at all.

I nod and fold my hands underneath my head as she sniffs away a rage-filled tear. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have let all that out on you. Wasn’t very ladylike of me.”

“No no,” I interrupt, “I understand. I wouldn’t want my life to have been chosen for me, either. I couldn’t– I couldn’t imagine it, actually. Especially with someone whose love isn’t mutual with mine.”

“Exactly,” she says, pushing herself up on her elbow. “Am I not crazy, Jacob?”

I shake my head. “No, you aren’t crazy. I’d want to run away, too.” And truly, I would.

“Then let’s go,” she whispers, her eyes wide and hopeful. “You and I, and Silas.”

“Me?” I’m surprised yet again. 

“Yes, you! Why not, you know? This town offers me nothing, nothing is holding me here…” she goes on.

“You’d find no benefit in runnin’ away with a person like me, I can offer you nothing, Y/N,” I argue, completely blindsided by the fact that someone like her would want to have me as a running partner. “I have no money, I have no excitement in my life. No inheritance, no family, no fancy home… You should stay here, where you are comfortable and have a prosperous future waitin’ for you at your doorstep.”

She shakes her head as she stays silent for a beat. “That’s the most I’ve heard you speak, yet,” she finally laughs, rolling back to her back. “Do you think I truly care about all of that, Jacob? I mean I hardly know you, but you have to have noticed that I just spent the last few nights sleeping in the hay of a barn floor. The last thing I care about is how large and appealing my home is, or how much money lines my pockets… I want someone willing to lie there in the hay with me. Someone like, well, you.”

She isn’t wrong. She can read herself like a book.

I sit up and lean over her, bringing my face close to hers as I balance on my elbows. “You really want to do that? You really want to run away…” 

She squints her eyes. “More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life…” She lifts her head, brushing her nose against mine just as she had done in the barn. I struggle to take a breath as she exhales against my lips, her eyes searching my face again. My entire body stiffens as she gently presses her lips to mine for just a second, her neck craned as her eyes close. She pulls away and covers her mouth, almost as if she didn’t mean to do it at all. She giggles but pulls her hand away from her mouth, instead gently brushing her fingers through my still-damp strands. 

I close the gap again, this time cupping her neck and pulling her body into me. My entire mind is full of fireworks, bright white lights as I feel every single one of my nerve-endings ignite with fire. She feels so perfect, so good underneath me as her lips part just a little, letting me inside. 

I gently brush my tongue into her mouth, tasting her for the very first time. Like fresh spring honeysuckles and the burn of a good whiskey, she kisses me back, the sound of her light cries almost making me come undone as our bodies lurch together, begging to be touched. Her kiss has already weakened me completely, and if we weren’t already lying down, I’d gently lie her back anyway, letting myself take a bit of control as her hands tighten their grip in my hair. Both of our breathing is labored, and neither of us have hardly moved from our places on the dock. She’s blinding me, in every sense of the word. I can hear the tree frogs and feel the breeze around us, but all that exists in my mind is her, and the way she feels as she’s connected to me, the way she tastes on my tongue. I find myself wondering what the rest of her tastes like, and if she would shy away from my efforts to taste her further…

My hand tightens on her neck as my tongue delves a little deeper, eliciting another whisper of a cry from her throat as our lips fight against one another. I can feel the heavy silver chain and charm that stays around my neck falling to rest on her chest. 

We continue this way for a minute, maybe two, just letting ourselves enjoy this new company. Her body writhes under mine as I lean over onto her, and I can feel her breasts pressed up against my chest. My head is spinning and I can hardly form a thought. I let my other hand travel, sneaking it slowly down her arm and along her side, making her shudder beneath me. Her reactions let me know that I’m doing everything right. My hand travels again, pulling her undergarment up just a bit so that my hand can roam over her skin. 

It’s perfectly soft and supple, goosebumps covering the places that I let my fingertips glide. Her kiss is intense, pulling me back in and making my yearning for her all the more heavy. I feel myself tightening in my underwear, and I’m sure she can, too, but she continues her movements. This is a horrible idea, but I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. She’s already making herself addictive. Just as my hand glides along her stomach, and I’ve decided to test the waters with a light touch of her breast, she hops back in discomfort, making me stop altogether. 

“What’s wrong, are you alright?” I ask, lifting my hand and looking at the place I’d just touched. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, fine, it just–”

There on her skin, right under her breast is a red rash that looks a bit painful. “What’s this?” I ask. 

“I–it’s probably poison oak, or something… I have been outside a lot lately. Don’t worry about it,” she argues, brushing it off. 

“That looks like it hurts, Y/N, and that isn’t poison oak…” I say, knowing the look of that rash like the back of my hand. “Does it burn?”

“It’s fine, Jacob…” she says as I pull up more of her garment, seeing more and more of the same rash all over her torso. 

“Y/N, what is this?”

Suddenly, though, we’re harshly interrupted. 

“Y/N! Y/N, are you out there?” I pull off of her quickly, realizing that dusk had begun to fall. 

“Shoot,” she says. “It’s my father.” We both stand and quickly begin to grab our clothing and redress. I’m panicking, wondering if he is traipsing through the woods towards us as we speak. I help her lace her corset closure, saddened at the fact that I didn’t even get to help her remove it initially.

I’m grabbing my own shirt as I hear another voice, and it causes me to go stiff on my feet. “Y/N! Sweetheart! Are you there?!” I drop my hands as they hold my shirt and my eyes meet hers with fury. 

“Is that him?” I ask, a fire beginning to burn within me.

“Yes, that’s him, now hush,” she demands. We finish dressing and she makes her way to untie Silas from his place at the tree. 

“Yes, father!” she yells through the trees. “Just brought Silas out for a run! I’m on my way back!” 

I step into my boots and quickly walk back up the incline, feeling flushed and confused and mad all at the same time. I don’t know why I’m mad, the overload of emotions really decided to hit me. Just before she jumps back on to her horse, she quickly paces back over to me, placing her hand harshly on my cheek as she pulls me in for another deep, heated kiss. Fuck, what is she doing to me…

“I meant what I said. If you really want to run away with me…”

“I–I’ve got to finish this job for your father, I’ve got to make this pay…” I say, knowing that if we were really going to do this, I needed to have some jingle in my pocket to at least get us to the next city.

“Alright,” she agrees in a rush, her hand still lingering on my cheek. “But after then, we’ll go…”

“Will you be married by then, Y/N?” I ask, the thought sending daggers through my heart. 

“I’ll do everything in my power to stop that from happening,” she whispers. Just then she takes the cream colored satin ribbon that’s tied in her hair and wraps it around my wrist, fastening it in a loose bow. “Don’t forget about me, Jacob…”

“Impossible, Y/N,” I say through the first genuine smile that’s graced my lips in weeks. I watch as she mounts Silas, offering me a small wave of goodbye as she turns and makes her way back through the heavy trees, leaving me in a pile of whimsical confusion there, in the near darkness. 

—

It’s been two weeks since that day at the pond, without a word or sight of Y/N. I find myself thinking of her often, keeping the ribbon she gave me in the pocket of my trousers. I figure the foal must be getting on well if the coachmen hadn’t come to collect me in this many days. I feel a sense of pride at the fact that it must be flourishing and healthy after a little bit of help. 

Each day I look for her, waiting around to see if her or her father would show up at the job site. The job is nearly complete now, and I know my chances of seeing her are growing slimmer each and every day. I would move on to the next job and she would be but a distant memory, a fleeting thought that will pass through my mind when I least expect it to. It’s unusual that her father had not come to check the progress of the building, though, seeing as how he had been here most days since the start of the project.

An uneasy feeling fills my stomach at his absence, and even more, hers. Unable to stand it any longer I decide that after quittin’ time I would go to their estate. I need to see her. I know my presence will raise suspicion from her father, but I have a plan. 

It isn’t a great distance to walk and luckily the air has cooled some now that summer is drawing to a close. By the time I see the estate in the distance, my sweat soaked shirt has dried and the sun is beginning to set. It really is a beautiful property, riddled with pecan trees and oak trees dotted with spanish moss. The crickets have begun to chirp in the tall grass and I can hear the gentle whinnying of the horses in the stable. Part of me wants to go check on the foal first, but I know I need to announce my presence before someone suspects me of thieving.

As I ascend the long path to the front doors I see several carriages tied up to the horse posts. There are several that I have never seen before and a sick feeling begins to swirl in my chest. The lanterns aren’t burning on the porch, and it seems unsettlingly quiet inside the home. I swallow nervously as I reach for the metal door knocker, hearing it echo through the home. I step back from the door and shove my hand in my pocket, feeling the silky ribbon against my rough fingers. My heart rate has quickened and I can hear it beating in my ears as I wait for someone to answer. 

I stand there for several minutes until suddenly the door rushes open. A woman answers, a look of distress on her face as her eyes search me trying to figure out who I am and what I am doing here. 

“Hello ma’am,” I say, “Could I please speak to Ms. Y/N?”

Her face drops and her lips part as she turns to look behind her. She turns back to me and shakes her head, unable to find the words she is looking for.  “I–I’m sorry sir, I can’t take you to her.”

“I’ve come all this way, is there any way I–”

“Griselda!” I hear a man shout. I believe it’s her father and his voice sounds angry. “Who goes there?”

“My name’s Jacob, I am his carpenter,” I say quickly. 

“His name is Jacob, sir. Says he is your carpenter,” she answers him as he opens the door further. 

“What do you need, boy?” he growls. 

I suddenly feel like I am lost for words. Do I tell him the truth or do I lie?

“I need to speak with your daughter, sir.” 

“My daughter? Y/N?” he scoffs, “There will be no such thing!”

“Sir, if I may–”

“You may not!” he shouts, interrupting my plea. “You have no business with her, and she is unwell. You need to leave my property.”

“She is ill?” I question, my mind immediately remembering her rash and my previous suspicion. “Her rash…”

“How do you know about that, boy?” he seethes. 

I quickly realize I have said too much. “She– she told me about it while I helped tend to the horses. She was in pain.”

His eyes study me, as if trying to decide if I was telling the truth. 

“She has the fever,” he swallows. “Scarlet fever, and she is very unwell.”

I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces as I wrap the ribbon so tightly around my finger that it cuts off my circulation. “If I could please just speak to her for a moment…” I beg. 

“I’m sorry son, but I cannot allow it,” he says finally, shutting the door abruptly. 

I stand there dumbfounded for a few beats, trying to come to terms with the fact I won’t be speaking to her any time soon. I slowly back away from the door, making my way back down the porch steps as I stare up at the home. A window is open on the far right of the house, a sheer white curtain catching the breeze. I decide to try my luck calling out to her, hoping maybe she will be on the other side of the window. 

“Y/N!” I shout, being met with deafening silence. 

“Y/N, it’s me!” I try again, but this time I see someone at the window. It slams shut and the curtains close which tells me my suspicions were correct and she is just beyond the glass. 

I force my feet to carry me down the walking path, stopping to sit on a wooden bench. I drop my head into my hands, suddenly feeling like I failed her. I saw the rash and I knew what it was. I shouldn’t have let it be. I should have made her see the physician. Now I don’t know if or when I will see her again. Guilt fills my soul. I briefly wonder if this is my penance for Lizzy. 

I don’t know how much time has passed as I sit here, but off in the distance I hear the front doors of the home closing and what looks to be a physician walking to his carriage. Before I can convince myself of it I am running towards him, knowing that my only chance of answers will come from him. 

“Sir!” I shout, “Excuse me, sir!”

His head whips around to look at me, his eyes having trouble focusing in the darkness of the evening. 

“Yessir?” he stops, his medical bag in hand. 

I am panting as I stop in front of him, doing my best to catch my breath. “The girl, inside,” I pant. “She has– she has Scarlet fever?” 

“I’m sorry son, it was too late. There was nothing I could do for her.”

“Too late?” I gasp, lightheadedness filling my mind.

“She went without pain, that I can assure you. I am very sorry for your loss, she seemed like a fine lady.”

“She’s– She’s gone?” I breathe. “No– she…”

“I’m sorry son. I must be on my way. Have a good evening,” he says, stepping into his carriage. 

My head whips up to look at the house, the window still closed in the room she was in. There’s a faint glow of a candle burning in the room, and I wonder if her father is with her, if he is with her… holding her hand as they say their silent goodbyes. 

I can hardly wrap my mind around the fact that she’s gone. She can’t be. She was just with me at the pond. In the stables. I still have her ribbon in my pocket… 

“No…” I breathe as my hand flies up to cover my mouth, the sting of tears threatening to fall.

I barely hear the sound of his carriage pulling away. I can’t even feel the rocks and dirt as they hit my skin. All I can feel is my heart shattering and the hope I previously held for the future completely gone. 

—

I don’t know how, but my feet managed to carry me back into town. It felt as if the world had gone silent around me, as if it too was mourning the loss of her. There isn't a soul in sight as I make my way further into the center of town in search of something that can help numb this pain in my chest. I knew her for such a short time but everything in me knew that our meeting wasn’t happenstance. She was everything I never knew I wanted to find. And the only thing that managed to fill my mind anymore. I’d grown so fond of her, but I dare not say just how much.

I push open the door to the barroom, silently scolding myself for returning to this place. I haven’t been here since that night with Joshua. I vowed never to return, refusing to sit in the place that was the catalyst of this damned curse. 

I would now live the rest of my days knowing what I lost with Y/N. Thinking of what could have been. Maybe hell isn’t a place, maybe hell is a state of mind. Damned to an eternity of never knowing what could have been and reliving the memories of what I had. A self inflicted mental imprisonment where fear and guilt is the warden, and the sentence is life. Hell isn't a place you go to atone for your sins, hell is a place you create for yourself to live in endless emotional agony of “what if”.

As I step up to the bartop, the attendant eyes me, clearly recognizing me from the scuffle a few weeks ago. 

“You ain’t gonna cause no trouble here, now are you?” he asks, drying a mug with a dish rag. 

“No sir, just here for a drink,” I answer, my voice gravelly from hours of held back tears. 

He nods his head, “We got a Porter and Lager tonight.”

“Do you have anything stronger?” I ask. 

He looks around at the patrons behind me, then back to me. “I got Whisky, but I ain’t got much.”

“I’ll take what you have,” I answer, feeling thankful that soon my mind would be a blur.

“It’s the real stuff kid, ain’t no foolin’,” he warns.

“I need it,” I answer, tossing all the change in my pockets onto the bartop. Her ribbon falls onto the wooden surface and my breath catches before I snatch it back into my grip, working quickly to tie it around my wrist. His eyes look me over again, his lips pursing as if he wants to say something. He pours a small glass full of brown liquid, sliding it my way as he bites his tongue. 

“Thank you,” I say with a nod, and before I walk away he stops me. 

“Hey kid…”

“Yessir,” I turn to him. 

“I hope whatevers’ ailin’ ya, eases up soon.”

I nod to him and walk away with the drink. The lump in my throat grows as I think of her. I decide right then and there that I would give anything for one more day with her. I would pay any price. If I was cursed to live forever there wasn’t a day that I wanted to spend without her by my side. 

I take a long drink of the spicy liquid feeling like I could breathe fire. He wasn’t lying about the Whisky. I let my mind slowly drift off, thinking of every choice I’ve ever made and how I have found myself here today. I think about my future, or lack thereof. I can’t stay here, not anymore. People will begin to notice when I don’t wrinkle and my hair doesn’t thin. I will live my life on the run, now. Thanks to this curse. Thanks to Josh. My own flesh and blood, the–

The curse. 

My blood runs cold as Seraphine’s incantation swirls through my mind once more. Chills run the length of my body as I feel her power drift through me. I quickly swallow down the rest of the Whisky in the glass, slamming it down onto the table so hard it burns out the lantern. 

“I have to find her. She can fix this,” I mumble, my heart suddenly racing with the idea that she could bring her back. If she can curse me to eternal life, surely she can raise the dead. I push up from my chair and rush towards the bar attendant with a new fire in my chest. 

“I’m looking for someone,” I rush out. “She– she’s a witch. A voodoo lady. She does magic and curses,” I whisper loudly, looking around at the patrons beside me.

The attendant blows out a breath and shakes his head. “I don’t know anyone like that, and you’ll be hard pressed to find someone who does and will admit it.”

“There has to be someone!” I shout, slamming my fist on the bar top. “Please…”

“Listen,” he growls. “Old Mr. Friar may know who you speak of, but he doesn’t say much these days. Hardly speaks to me but to ask for his drink.” He nods to the older man sitting in the corner of the room. He’s dark complected and has a blue glassy eye. He stares off into the distance, his light white hair glowing in the lantern light. 

“He will know?” I ask.

“He may, he got into some trouble back in the day. He is your best bet around here.”

“Thank you sir,” I plead, walking over to the man I now know is Mr. Friar.

I pull out a chair in front of him, hoping he is welcoming to my intrusion of his night. 

“Hello sir, my name is Jacob,” I speak softly, doing my best to hide my nerves. 

He says nothing, continuing to stare out into the barroom.

“Sir, I was told you may know where to find someone. She– she’s a witch or somethin’. Does that black magic. I only know her as Seraphine.”

That seems to catch his attention, his head snapping over to look at me. “What business do you have with her?”

“I– It’s a long story sir, but I need her help. I need to find her. Where can I find her?” I beg. 

“Shouldn’t toy with magic son,” he grunts, pulling his mustached lips into his mouth.

“I need her help to reverse something, and I think only she can do it,” I continue, “Please, anything you can tell me sir, I have money, anything.”

“Keep your money, child,” he pauses, leaning over the table onto his elbows. “To find Seraphine you will need a boat. Head North up the Delta a few miles, and you’ll see a red shack on your right, has a blue roof and looks abandoned. You’ll find her there. You’ll know you’ve found the place when the air grows silent. No creature dead or living dares to be in her presence. You don’t tell her how you found her, now, y’hear?”

Relief overtakes me as I commit his directions to memory. “Thank you sir, thank you so much.”

I push up from the table and storm out the door in search of a boat, and thankfully I know just where to find one. 

—

I trudge along in the darkness, my mind still a bit fuzzy from the spirits, but I think my body would know this route even if I was unconscious, at this point. The half-hour ride in the carriage seems like nothing as I traverse on foot to the St. Lemire’s homestead. Finally, I see the dim lighting of the stables just up the dirt road, and I know that I have a long night ahead of me.

I quietly lurk in the shadows around the side of the stables, just in case any of the hands have decided to have a late night, after learning of the passing of Ms. St. Lemire. When I’m sure I’m alone, I allow the moonlight to guide me in the right direction, and I find the old boat leaned up against the outside wall. I unravel the thick rope that I had brought along with me, gently slipping it through the front handle and tying a tight few knots. 

Again I glance around, hearing nothing but the horses rustling in their stalls. My mind tells me to go in and check on the foal, but truly, I don’t have much time to worry about him. Plus, seeing the baby and the mare without the glowing presence of Y/N beside me might send me into a fit of sadness that I can’t deal with right now. 

I grip the rope and wrap it a few times around my hand before I gently yank it free from its position, letting it fall onto its belly and into the grass. I pray there are no snakes living beneath it as I take hold of the paddles that were propped against the wall. I give the rope some slack and begin to pull it toward the woods, ready to make my journey to the swamp water’s edge and find a place to hide my newly commandeered vessel. I do feel badly for stealing it, but I convince myself I am only “borrowing” it, and plan to return it back to its home in a timely manner. Truly, it looks like it has lived leaned against the side of the barns for some time now, anyway.

I drag the heavy boat through the thick woods, trying not to make too much of a ruckus as the rocks and sticks brush its underside. I go slowly, and blink often, letting my eyes adjust to the half-moonlight. I’m glad I have the paddles to double as walking sticks, feeling out the land before me as I walk. I wish that I had some inkling of how far Seraphine’s home is from the water’s edge, but I suppose I will just have to learn that on my own. 

I know that there is no way that I will be able to make this journey in the darkness, as I did not bring a lantern of any kind along with me. I will hide it in the thick weeds and return home for some sleep, and return at daybreak to make the trip to Seraphine’s.

As I walk, I look to the starred-sky, taking in its wonder and beauty and how I hope that Y/N is somewhere, in another universe or heaven itself, looking at the same sky, too. I miss her, damn do I miss her, already. I hardly even knew her. But still her presence alone was enough to ignite a fire within me that had long been burned out, smoldering bricks of ash that were just waiting to be lit again. And she’d done that. So quickly that it almost scared me. Running away with her sounded like the dumbest, most juvenile decision I could make as a grown man, but I didn’t care. My mind had been made up. If we only had a little more time… if only I had tried to warn her of the fever than I was positive that she had. 

It feels like hours that I walk, catching thorns and bristles in my arms as I sneak through the trees, a thief of my own doing as I pull the boat behind. Thankfully it isn’t too heavy, but the exertion is sobering me up, a bit. Finally I hear the croaks of the frogs and the wildlife that inhabit the swamp, and I know that I am close.

I find a clearing in the thick grasses that shows no signs of footprints or bait traps, and I pull the boat into the water, pushing it behind a thick clump of weeds to hide it as it floats freely. I tie the rope off to a nearby tree before I check my work, and make my way back home to sleep off the rest of that damned Whisky. Tomorrow I will find Seraphine. Tomorrow I will beg for her to bring my Y/N back to me. 

—

The sun is just starting to rise as I paddle towards the shack in the woods. For a long while, I followed the man's directions, and sure enough I spotted the old place without issue. Faded red with a blue roof, just as he said. The bushes and foliage are so overgrown I could have missed it had I not been searching for it. I figure that is probably why it's like that. She doesn’t want to be found. I briefly wonder how Joshua found her but cast that aside as I quietly paddle the boat up to the dilapidated dock. I tie the rope to the rotten wood post and carefully step out of the boat, tossing the paddles inside. 

Just as the man had said, I hear the sound of no wind, no crickets, no birds… everything is still as no living thing dares to be in her presence. 

My blood starts to pump a little harder as I make my way to her door, a thousand thoughts running through my mind. I know this won’t be easy and she may refuse me, but I am here and I won’t leave without my girl. If she can curse me, she can bring my Y/N back. 

I pound my fist against her wooden door, covered in algae and moss from her proximity to the water. It leaves a brown smudge on my fist that I quickly wipe onto my trousers. My heart is beating hard as I wait for her answer, telling myself I am not above barging in. This was a courtesy to her. 

Seconds later the door flies open, revealing to me the woman I remember. The woman that did this to me. 

“Why are you here, boy?” she snaps, cutting her dark eyes at me as if I am the one that did her wrong. 

 “You’re gonna bring her back,” I demand, pushing her door open and stepping inside. She seems surprised by my forwardness but I am not here for games.

“I’ll do no such thing,” she growls, turning away from me.

“You will. You’ve done this to me and you will bring her back. I know you can, and I’m not leaving here until you do.”

“Of who do you speak?” she asks, settling herself in a chair. 

“My girl. My Y/N,” I answer, “She was stolen away from me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye before she was pulled away from this world. You must do something. You must bring her back.”

“Why would I do anything for you? You show up here and demand me to help you?” she questions, raising a brow to me. 

“Because you have cursed me, against my will! I will not spend the next thousand years without telling her goodbye! I didn’t deserve any of this!” I shout, my emotions crawling up my throat. 

She shakes her head, “I cannot help you.”

I raise my voice in panic, “No! You have to! I know you can! I know there is something you can do to bring her back!”

She stares at me for a moment before releasing a breath, “Sit boy.”

I cross my arms across my chest, breathing heavily as I try to calm myself. She eyes me up and down, and it’s clear that she is placing her memory of me. 

“Tell me of this girl,” she says, gesturing to an empty chair.

I begrudgingly sit, resting my elbows on her table with a sigh. “Her name was Y/N. I was working for her father, building a boarding house. She came to the job site one afternoon and I was instantly taken with her. I found myself seeing her several times over the next several days and we planned to run away together. She was being forced into a marriage to a man who didn’t love her. A man that would never love her. Not like I could. We were to go away together. Start a new life. I planned to go to her after the job finished and I got my payout. I hadn’t seen her in several days, and as I went to the estate to check on her, I found she had passed of Scarlet Fever.”

“And why should I help you?” she questions again, nodding her head. Her eyes are illuminated by the few candles burning around the home. 

I furrow my brows at her, “You cursed me. Wrongfully. While I was nearly dead, unconscious and not comprehending what you were doing. I– I never deserved the curse you gave me. Though I have accepted my fate now, I believe it fair that you help me in return. You bring back Y/N and you never have to see me again.”

“Your friend,” she pauses, “He offered me a pretty penny for my work.”

I scoff, “Friend,” I mutter under my breath. 

“This girl, you love her?” she asks and I nod. 

“I can feel that your heart is in your wishes boy,” she pauses. “How do I know you will love her and no other? That you will not long for another?”

The words fall from my lips quicker than I can think of them, “I would chase her through time and space just to see her again. I would go to the ends of the Earth to feel her touch. I would do anything. Give anything. You’ve got to believe me.”

She looks at me for a few long minutes, the silence broken by the thumping of my heart. She puffs the smoke from a pipe that I hadn’t seen before, slowly releasing it from her lips as it floats into the air above her.

“I want to help you, Jacob. But it will come at a cost.”

“I will pay any price,” I blurt. 

“Not that kind of cost, my boy.”

My face twists up in confusion as I listen to her speak. “This is what I can offer you. Though I cannot bring her back to this Earthly plain, I may be able to take you to her.”

“I thought I– How could you do that if I cannot die?” I ask. 

“There is a way my boy, though it too has its consequences,” she starts. 

“I don’t understand.”

“We all exist in more than one place. In more than one dimension. There are hundreds of you, living in different places, at different times. Though our bodies are made from the dirt of the Earth, our souls cannot be destroyed, so they live alongside themselves, existing amongst each other in ways that you cannot even fathom. Though she may be gone from this here existence, she is alive and well in every other,” she explains. “What I can offer you, is a way to get to her.”

“How?” I ask, leaning closer to her in anticipation. 

“It would be a new spell. A new curse placed upon you,” she answers nonchalantly. 

“Do it,” I say, unwilling to let her finish. 

“You must know the implications, Jacob. You must know what you’re asking me for.”

I sit back in my chair letting her continue. 

“Though you will undoubtedly find her, it will not be the same girl you know. It will look like her, talk like her, act like her, but it will not be her. She will not know you, or have any memory of this life. You will be a stranger to her. But, humans alone cannot change fate, and if she is the woman you are destined to love, she will love you in every lifetime just as she did in this one. In every dimension you will be together in one way or another.”

“So it will be her, but not the girl I knew…” I confirm. 

“Preciscely, Jacob. You will have to start from the beginning with her, every time.”

“Every time? As in…”

“As in every time you find her,” she answers. 

“I don’t understand,” I groan. 

“You will only have a set amount of time with her. You will know when your time is running out. When it is time to move on.”

“Then I will start over,” I breathe, finally understanding. “How long will I have with her?”

“Every jump will be different, my child. You will know when time is running out. You will feel it, even see it. You will begin to anticipate it. All the signs will be there and eventually you will know before it happens.”

“So I will do this forever?” I ask, realizing what my future will hold. 

“No my boy, not forever. There will come a time when it is all over,” she pauses, puffing her pipe again, “When I will collect.”

I rub my hand over my mouth, taking in the weight of what will be the rest of my days. “All of this because my twin hates me. Because he refuses to hear the truth and accept it for what it is. I did everything I could, you must understand.” I’m near tears.

“What did you say, child?” she snaps.

“What?”

“Did you say your twin?” she asks, quickly standing from her chair. 

“Yes, I– Joshua is my identical twin brother. He brought me here that night and had you place the curse because–”

“Silence!” She screams, throwing a glass dish at the old wooden walls. It shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces as the air grows frigid around me. 

“This changes everything!” She shouts, “It’s worse than I believed!”

“What? Changes what?” I ask, standing from my chair. 

“He didn’t tell me you were twins!” She seethes. 

“Yes, yes, identical twins. He is older than me by a few minutes,” I explain, my hands starting to shake. 

“He only said you were brothers! Do you know what this means, child?!” she yells. 

I shake my head, beginning to breathe heavily as the candle flames blow out, the crow hanging in the cage above us cawing loudly at her outburst. 

“You share the same blood. Your blood is his blood. His blood is your blood,” she pauses. “He didn’t only curse you, child. He cursed himself as well. The curse was sealed with your blood. The blood that you share!”

“So he–”

“Yes. He suffers the same fate as you,” she answers, her fist clenching around her pipe. “Anything I do to you will also be imposed upon him. You two will share the same fate, always.”

A pit settles in my stomach, I know he doesn’t know what he has done and because of that I refuse to give him any of my pity. He shouldn’t have acted so brashly. It is clear he never thought of the consequences. We came into this world together, and we will exist in it together until the end of time, whether he knows it or not.

“It changes nothing,” I demand. “I must find her. I must be with her.”

“He too, will go where you go,” she warns. “Always.”

“Be it as it may.”

Seraphine limps toward me, forcefully blowing her smoke around my face, the smell of it taking me back to the night Joshua cursed me. “You must be sure, child. There is no going back...” Her eyes delve deeply into mine as she studies me, reading the aura that I must be projecting.

“Please, let me go to her,” I beg, my anger feeling like it has subsided into something more subservient, an emotion of willingness that I was devoid of when I crossed her threshold. The smell of her smoke is making me dizzy, my emotions of sadness crawling back into my bones though I try and fight them. 

“You must know you are no better than your brother for imposing this upon him, much in the same way he placed the curse upon you,” she says. 

“Please, don’t think it is my fault that my brother didn’t tell you. Tell me that this new curse will benefit me…” I plead with Seraphine, straightening my shoulders a bit as to show her I am unafraid of her.

“It will benefit you, boy, as long as fate decides to be on your side. I may collect the roots of the earth and I may stir them into elixirs to alter the state of your being, but it’s the magic itself that will decide your fate. It will read your soul more delicately than I could ever even begin to…” she drawls, her accent so heavy it almost escapes me. 

Suddenly she is close in front of my face again as I fall backward into the chair that Josh had tied me to when I was cursed the first time. Seraphine’s long hair and braids fall onto my lap as her face is within inches of mine, and I can smell the scent of charred incense and tobacco burned into her very being. 

“You may only jump a limited amount of times through time and space, the count is unbeknownst to me, and unbeknownst to you, but you will be offered clues as to when you are running out,” she sings, her neck contorting her head into jerked twists as she speaks to me from somewhere that is not her own mouth. “You mustn’t toy with the fabric of Mother Nature, you mustn't make yourself a known person of public interest, and most importantly, you mustn’t ever take the life of another human being,” she explains, the sound of her voice changing with each word. “Do you understand?” she asks. 

I nod against her, her hands now pressing down hard on my wrists as her dark eyes bore into mine. “Yes, yes I understand,” I agree, committing every word to memory. I quickly glance down to my wrist, finding Y/N’s ribbon sitting underneath the old, bony hand of Seraphine.

“Every move you make will be for her, every ounce of effort you desire to perform will be in her favor, and you must never lose sight of that, you must never long to find the love of someone that isn’t her, or else this will have all been for nothing,” she bellows, the wind flashing across our faces. I nod in understanding. 

Finally, Seraphine steps back, glaring at me. Her hand extends, and a small object forms in the palm of it. I can’t tell what it is until she takes it, opening it up. It’s a hand mirror, scratched and cracked on the surface, but still catching the light of reflection. 

“This, and this alone will be your amulet for advancement through dimensions. Mirrors, child, and seeing yourself in them will be your means of travel. Stand and see yourself as you are, while you recite,”

“Echoed glass, reveal the way, through the veil of night or day. Turn the key, unlock the door, let me walk through time once more.”

I repeat the incantation over and over with her as I memorize it, and somehow, I am able to correctly and precisely say each and every word as if I have memorized them like a prayer. The fabric of the words sewn into my mind like a perfectly cut quilt.

I take the hand mirror from her as she continues speaking, the wind carrying a strong aroma as it blows against the walls. 

“Wherever you land, find a tree with three mother trunks, and a deep hole at its center. There, inside, will be everything you will need to survive in the place and time you find yourself. You’re to blend in with the people there, and never question anything. Remember your sole mission is to find her, and show her time and time again that she is the reason for everything you do.”

“Will I age? After I jump, Seraphine?” I ask.

“No. That part of the curse is irreversible. Even as you travel through the continuum, you shall still stay this age, forever. As will your brother.” 

“Will he know? When he’s thrust into the next world with me, will he know what is happening?” I ask again.

Again, she shakes her head. “No. That’s his punishment for not disclosing every detail of our last arrangement. He will wake up in time with you, though he may be in a different place altogether.” 

So, as I search for my Y/N, I will also spend my time escaping my brother. Just as I am now, I suppose.

“What’s in this for you?” I ask her, suddenly aware of the fact that she gains nothing from this arrangement. “You’re helping me so willingly…”

Seraphine licks her dark lips, her eyes flashing a bright gold before falling into a dark black, again. “After so many jumps, I will lay claim to your soul.”

Claim? “So, I will die?”

“Your mortality is not up to me to decide. I didn’t create this malediction, I am only the vessel of it. Like I said before, the conjury is mine, the magic is not,” she explains. 

“Fine, fine, just do it. I do not care for the rest of my future if she is not with me in it, I’ve got nothing left to lose…” I plead as I feel an energy coursing through my body.

“Give me your hand, Jacob,” she orders, and I place my open palm into hers, the same one that Josh cut with his knife so as to secure his curse upon me the first time. “Do you have any markings, child? Birthmarks, scars…”

“Yes,” I reply, a euphoric feeling entering my bones as I breathe in the heavy herbal fumes surrounding me. “A burn scar, here,” I motion to my side and pull up my shirt. 

“Mm, very well,” she says, laying her hand overtop of it as words that I do not recognize escape her lips. “And something of hers… the one you wish to follow across time…” she asks. 

Immediately I pull the ribbon from around my wrist, reluctantly handing it off to her. She takes it with force, placing it on the table beside us. 

“Finally, something that never leaves you. A constant, something that is unchanging…” she holds her hand out again moving her fingers as if I’m going to hand her something. I wrack my brain, but her hand touches my chest. My silver necklace and charm. “Do you wear this always? Do you ever remove it?” she asks. 

“I never remove it,” I reply. 

“Good. It will be your talisman of continuance. Keep it always, never let it leave your person. It will be what keeps you tied to this curse, it will keep you within the realm of what we are bounding today. Without it, you cannot jump,” she explains, and I take note again. Just as her hand squeezes across my necklace, I feel a sharp blade cross the palm of my hand again as I become increasingly lightheaded. 

The sound of the wind whooshes by my head, the smell of spices and herbs fills my nose, and the feeling of my body being completely torn from my own control overtakes my entire being. I’m dizzy, feeling as though I am spinning out of control. 

“Look at the book, child…” I hear Seraphine’s voice, muffled and distorted as she begins reciting a different version of the same incantation she had taught me earlier. I feel blood oozing from my hand and a burning feeling comes across the scar on my side. Look at the book. Look at the book.

“Winds of time, both swift and slow, through the mists, let moments flow. Past and future, intertwine, guide his path through space and time.”

“Stars that mark the cosmic thread, guide him where the hours spread. Through the veil of ages cast, let him journey to the past.”

“Echoes of the ancient day, and whispers of the dawn’s first ray, open now the temporal gate, to reveal his destined fate.”

“By the moon’s eternal gleam, and the night’s unending dream, shift the currents, bend the line, let the ages now align. In the shadows, through the light, lead him through both day and night.”

“As I speak, so let it be, through the echoes, set him free.”

I blink my eyes as my mouth begins reciting along with her, and suddenly the mirror is in front of my face. My voice grows louder, and the wind grows more intense, but my body has never felt stronger than it does, right now. I’m watching my own reflection in the mirror as I feel as though I am going to disintegrate, waves of pleasure and pain switching back and forth with dizziness. I’m confused, but I’ve never been more sure. 

The last thing I hear is Seraphine’s voice mixed with my own before all I can see is black. I don’t breathe, and I don’t move. I don’t even think my heart beats. I’m suspended in between two moments that don’t even exist, one coinciding with the other as they float and dance along a timeline so vast and elusive that the Creator himself couldn’t even control them if he wanted to. But I, now the holder of a skill so rare, can.

I am face down on the floor, my body feeling as if I have just traveled a thousand miles. I peek my eyes open to see that I am in my own home, on the floor of my bedroom. I sit and shake my head, trying to get my wits as my memory floods with the happenings of the past hour. Did I jump?

The scar on my side is burning with a fire so intense that I have to grab it to make sure I’m not actually on fire, again. And when I glance beside me, I see a book. The book. I pick it up, holding the small brown leather bound pages in my hands as I notice something stuck between the cover and the first paper page. It’s Y/N’s ribbon. 

I pull the book open, seeing her ribbon holding the page, perfectly untouched. And there, written in fresh black ink, is a place of which I have seldom heard, and a time of which does not yet exist. I stand, walking to sit on the side of my bed as I look around the room, feeling no emotional attachment to it at all, nor a want to exist in this place for another second without her. My heart won’t beat unless for her, my breaths won’t give me life if not to live for her. I’m positive of my decision.

I pull the compact mirror from my pocket, taking a deep breath as I open it. I see my reflection, disheveled and exhausted, but a glisten in my eye that feels unfamiliar. My mouth begins saying the words again as I hold the mirror in one hand, and the book in the other.  

“Echoed glass, reveal the way, through the veil of night or day. Turn the key, unlock the door, let me walk through time once more.”

I feel my body begin to lurch and thrash, but nothing could ever make me feel more perfect than I do, right now. A flight through the clouds could never compare to this euphoria, an ecstasy I’ve never encountered weighing so heavily upon me as I feel my body ascending. The last thing I see before I slip back into nothingness, is the ink dancing across the page. 

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[bandydear]

I think the sad thing about the Rue Royale family is that they really are operating the best that they can considering everyone’s circumstances.

Take Claudia for example: She’s a 14 year-old orphan who has never ever been loved. She was abused from the moment she could crawl by her aunt, exposed to creepy uncles at the boarding house, and has had 0 friends. A goose egg. Louis and Lestat were the first people. Ever. To love her. The only people who would care if she died. And they loved her. They poured all the devotion that bounced off each other’s defence mechanisms onto The Child.

So she’s a spoiled teenage apex predator who has had zero socialization her own age trapped in eternal homeschooling with BPD The Clown and the vampire embodiment of self-loathing. She was never going to be Normal. The fact that she grows up to be so socially capable is really a testament to her willpower.

And they’re fucking trying to raise her right too! Lestat’s parents did not give a shit about him. If he wasn’t being abused he was being neglected. Beatings, withholding food, withholding love*, he never learned how to read! So he feeds Claudia, he teaches her to drive, to play chess, to play piano—all the things he is proud of. All that nourishes his soul he gives to Claudia. He gives her a priceless amulet all while thinking she’s impermanent. That she won’t last.

And then there’s Louis. Louis who always had the expectations of “carrying the family line”. Louis who was told to marry a woman named Hazel by Paul the moment before he died. Louis, whose familial and social rejection for what he is (in layers) sent him spinning out in self-destruction and what he find on the brink of annihilation was Claudia. His beautiful daughter. She’s the embodiment of all his hopes and dreams. Only child to all the expectations of an eldest child. He brings her to the lake his dad took him and Paul to when he was a child and they catch fireflies. He does her hair and he dresses her like the little rich girl he’s always wanted to parade around at church.

But Claudia is a person, not a doll.

And Louis is still caught up in the living drama of his family. Louis spends Claudia’s entire life mourning the mortal man he never was. He wants to make his mother proud. He wants her forgiveness for Paul. He wants to be there for his sister and her family, and he wants to be a married man with a child of his own. His war with his own nature extends to his family. He cannot accept being a vampire the same way his mother never accepted his queerness. And, just like his mother, he withdraws love as punishment when his family does not follow his rules. He cannot accept a daughter with sadistic house cat tendencies, and he can’t accept the horny Shakespearean menace he married. He punishes Lestat when Claudia goes off to college (typical empty nester behaviour) and he punishes Claudia when she starts having a life outside of him in Paris.

And yet! They were happy! For years! Happy until what was always going to happen happened. Lestat has always had a wandering dick and Claudia was always going to want independence and companionship outside of her parents and Louis was always going to be jenga tower of emotional stability. On a tight rope of personality disorders and abusive upbringings they actually lasted longer than a lot of vampire covens.

[tonkatsubowl]

piano.

blade x fem!reader

he finds you playing the piano by yourself.

in xianzhou luofu, there's a hidden library that you frequent to. every time you felt like you needed to be away somewhere, you always go here...

it was silent, almost abandoned, except for a piano that was left behind by its previous owners. you come here almost all the time, actually, to play your heart out.

whether you were happy, angry, sad or... just having the need to play the piano, you let your heart out here.

but you didn't know the harmony of your masterpiece would attract a visitor—let alone, a stray serial killer.

today was like any other normal day. after you did what you had to do with work, or whatever it may be, you went to your usual spot and began to play what was on your mind. you were silent, sublimed to the tunes of the piano that seemed so new despite its old, abandoned condition. you were too lost in your thoughts to realize that you were being watched—admired by a distant killer who needed to relieve himself today.

...it was an ordinary day for him, too.

another mission, another task to complete... until he had suddenly found himself in a situation where he couldn't get himself out of. his mara condition, and kafka wasn't around to save him this time. so, he went to hide off somewhere until his reinforcements arrived—and that's how he ended up here, in your secret little area. he had been attracted to the sound of your melody at first, and unsheathed his blade, thinking it were a monster who could scream incoherent, beautiful melodies... but it was you. just you.

harmless to him, but admirable.

he lowered his sword, but the gentle clang of the tip of his weapon had echoed through the abandoned walls of the place, causing you to press the wrong keys of the piano and jump from your seat.

your eyes immediately peel towards the sound, noting the stranger who had entered the vicinity... and the sword he had.

...was he here to kill you?

no—not in his condition. you could see that he was injured, and the sound of your piano had attracted him. it was a safe haven for him, and he knew it. he had just scared you, is all.

"...you're bleeding," you whisper, lifting yourself from your seat as you go towards the stellaron hunter, "let m—"

"don't come any closer." he hissed at you, pointing his blade at you, causing you to stop.

you weren't fazed by the weapon, moreso worried about his condition. obviously, he was hurt, and obviously enough, he was hiding from someone... or something.

but you didn't care about the weapon, either way. so you step even closer, tearing off a piece of your shirt. "you're in my home," it wasn't really yours, but still, "so let me treat my guests."

blade was silent as he let out a defeated sigh, slumping against the wall, leaving a track of his blood to paint the concrete material behind him. "fine." he murmured. "make it quick."

you knelt to his side, immediately working on bandaging him. you were gentle, but his injuries were rather fatal... considering a cold-blood killer was grunting out of pain, you ought to assume he was some sort of sado-masochistic man. but the injuries were a little too much for him. whatever happened, you had hoped whoever or whatever was chasing him had... well. died.

"there." you dust off your hands, giving blade a reassuring look before standing up.

"you should sit here and relax for a day or two," you say, glancing back at him as you wandered towards the piano you had left momentarily, "and... you interrupted my piece. so i have to finish it."

"i don't need to relax. neither do i care about your music." he hissed in pain as he got up.

"then don't. i'm just giving you advice." you respond, before your fingers began to play the melodies of your song.

blade had gotten quiet since you began to play. you picked up where you had left off, and now you were finishing what you started. although he was stubborn and said he didn't care... he was here listening to you. he was still sitting against the wall, hand over his injury as he listened in silence.

he was breathing, heavily, but... melodies of your piano had brought him peace.

when you had finished, you turned around, seeing that the killer had fallen asleep. peaceful, beautiful.

how the wonders of music truly worked.

you got up, slowly approaching the sleeping killer. you had a spare blanket nearby that you would use to nap here, and... you'd place it over his body.

you didn't know him, but up close... he was beautiful.

you'd then leave a note for him before leaving for the night.

┈

thank you for coming to my show.

my name is y/n.

you're free to come in here whenever you wish to escape and enjoy solitude.

┈

when he had woken, you were gone.

the piano was by itself, but the rays of the gentle sun was blaring through the fallen planks of wood. the place was abandoned, and any sunlight that snuck through, one could see the rain of dust that sprinkled through light.

he looked around for you, but you weren't found anywhere... besides the note, which he read for a moment.

he folded it up and tucked it away somewhere, and looked down to the blanket. he lifted it, bringing it up to his nose—your scent. he would remember it.

standing, he'd grunt in pain before approaching the piano, placing the blanket over it before gently running his fingers against the keys of the piano.

it was old, rusted... abandoned. and yet, someone as beautiful as you would create such a peaceful masterpiece to it.

he would remember you—and perhaps the two of you would meet again.

and you would play a song for him.

[inklessletter]

Steve should have known better.

He felt exhibited, exposed. Seen. He hasn't felt that way since he was nineteen. Now he was almost thirty, just in a few weeks, standing in the kitchen, preparing his toddler's meal, and everything should feel normal, definitely not like if the world took an upside down turn on him as soon as he recognized Eddie's voice coming from the TV in the living room. Alone there, forgotten. Like white noise.

They have not been in touch for more than teen years.

He almost didn't pay attention to it. Almost.

Eddie didn't sound like Eddie, that was not his scene, that was not his music, nor his usual angry lyrics. He definitely was not smooth, sad piano, not a raspy, sentimental voice.

It was strange and unfamiliar that man in the screen wielding his voice. That was not him.

Yet it took Steve three seconds to stop dead and go to the living room and stare, cooking forgotten.

Black and white, great illumination, sad expression, and Steve's life in Eddie's lips.

That Eddie, that unknown person sang what Steve told him that many years ago, hidden under a starry night, no Moon there to lit the unshed tears, or the blush in his cheeks. Eddie was singing his secrets.

Like a confession, Eddie sang about his fear of becoming unloved and forgotten, about how his father told him he would be nothing but lonely if he didn't get a wife and kids when Steve was barely eleven. Eddie sang, like it was his own experience, about him becoming his own authority, about how that lingering fear of meaning nothing, be nothing but a sad waste of space because he was definitely unlovable. Eddie sang about Steve's desire of having kids and make himself the greatest dad in the world so he could find that love when he was nothing but wrinkles and memories.

Eddie didn't sing about that love letter that he wrote to Steve, telling him that he was already loved and cherished, and that he would do anything in his hand to make Steve feel unbearably loved every day.

Eddie didn't sing about Steve shaking, reading over and over again that later, terrified of yet losing someone he loved so much because he was flying too close to the sun. Again.

Eddie didn't sing about Steve rejecting him the day before he set off Hawkins to become a famous musician. He didn't sing about Steve's trembling smile, about broken hearts that day. He didn't sing about their mouths becoming that day a graveyard of kisses. He didn't sing about the tight hug, Steve's plea in his hear "please, forget about me and be huge" and Eddie's choking reply "that's not an option, because I will always love you."

He didn't sing about those ten years of silence between them.

Instead, Eddie sang about his wish of becoming loved by the children he hadn't had yet, wondering if they will still love him when he was old or if they would let him behind. Eddie sang about a letter that changed a man and made him happy once.

What Eddie didn't put it in the lyrics, but all Steve could hear, standing there, sobbing, barely able to breath, aching and broken, was that Eddie kept his promise.

He still loved him.

[angel-bees]

Silly Baby ( Nadja X Fem Familiar Reader )

SUMMARY: Reader makes a tardy mistake and is a sensitive baby about it. Love from Lazlo too.

WARNINGS: Cursing, sensitive reader, slightly out of character ( but that’s okay, old Chap ) Short, I do apologise.

You had been a loyal and faithful familiar to Nadja and Lazlo for just more than a year. Being a quiet and unassuming mortal, you often found yourself feeling alienated and invisible. Guillermo had spoken to you a few times but never truly bonded with you for reasons unknown.

And so you sat in your room for the majority of the morning, reading your old novels and listening to melancholy music. At least Nadja and Lazlo had given you a better room than what Guillermo had.

The late evening came about and you had clearly lost track of time. You were meant to help Nadja with her hair and check her emails but you, completely oblivious to every passing minute, sat on your bed, reading.

Moments passed and all of a sudden, loud knocks could be heard on your door.

“ Where the hell are you, familiar?” Lazlo called through the door. Your eyes widened and you looked at your watch.

“ Shit, shit, shit.” You mumbled to yourself as you got up and opened the door. Before Lazlo could speak, you immediately bombarded the poor man with apologies. “ I’m sorry, master. I…I lost track of time. I’m sorry it won’t happen agai—“

Lazlo cut you off. “ It's fine. My darling wife is angry. Keep your emotions in control and deal with her. She’s in our room.” Lazlo gestured in the direction to the staircase.

Without another word, you ran upstairs. Lazlo shook his head in disapproval and made his way to the piano.

You knocked on Nadja’s door. “ Mistress?” Your voice quivered— you hated when Nadja was angry.

“ Finally. Where the fuck were you?” She looked at you and you looked back at her through the peek of the door. You stepped inside the room.

“ I’m really sorry, I…lost track of time.” You paused, crossing your arms for comfort.

“ Don’t give me attitude, missy!” She scowled and fondled with her hair.

Maybe you were too sensitive, but hearing Nadja shout at you made you want to cry buckets.

“ Let me help you, mistress.” Your voice was a squeak and you went behind Nadja, not daring to make eye contact with her in the mirror as you began to style her hair.

“ You look like you are sad.” She frowned.

“ I’m not.” You whispered.

“ Don’t be a silly baby and tell me why you’re all—“ Of course, Nadja tried to mimic you in the most offensive way possible but you tried to pay no mind to it.

“ I’m sorry for…disappointing you.” You admitted. “ I hate it when you’re angry with me.”

Nadja tried to hide her softened expression with a scoff.

“ Why would my opinions matter?” She shook her head. “ You’re just a familiar.”

Your heart broke at the reminder but you nodded anyway. “ I know I’m only a familiar…but…”

Nadja sighed and pulled you down to sit on her lap, she wrapped her arms around your body. “ Come here, sensitive baby.”

Your eyes widened slightly and the tension within you softened in Nadja’s embrace. You played with the lace on her collar, not making eye contact.

“ I know I’m soft. But…but I enjoy my job, really I do. I love being a familiar to you and Lazlo but…yes I’m sensitive.” You kept your head down as you spoke.

A soft chuckle escaped Nadja’s red-tinted mouth. “ And we enjoy having you as a familiar. Silly baby.” She shook her head and kissed your temple.

Lazlo walked in, seeing you in Nadja’s lap.

“ I see all is resolved.” He smiled and rummaged through his closet.

“ All is resolved, my love. Our familiar is apparently too sensitive for our harsh words.”

“ Of course she is.” He looked at Nadja and then at you. He wrapped his coat around your shoulders as you looked a bit cold. You tried to hide your surprise.

“ T-thank you, master.” You looked up at him, he waved it off and fondled the papers on his desk. You thought it was your cue to leave so you tried to get up, only to be pulled back down by Nadja’s strong arms.

“ No, I’m keeping you here.” She held you to her chest like a doll and you honestly couldn’t complain so you kept silent, a small smile tugged at your lips.

They were keeping you.

[beehunterkisser]

Have you watched the season 2 premieres of Hamster and Gretel?

I HAVE!!! Im assuming you want to know what i thought of em so spoiler warning for any dwampyheads who havent watched it yet. LOOK OUT!!!! also this is long as hell so be careful

Hakuna Ma Kevin

ok first and foremost. the ANIMATION WAS INCREDIBLE I WAS SO SHOCKED.. The budget mustve been crazy everything was so smooth. It really impressed me.. especially the action scenes and the hair movements. it was all super good

his va did a great job of being like annoyingly calm. its so kevin to somehow take a relaxation camp way too seriously (also the fact his life was so ruined by his date with hiromi flopping that he had to go on a 2 week retreat to find inner peace).

i was actually really interested in how they were gonna tackle that but a timeskip makes sense.

skip past kevins initial extreme misery and leave it up for the audience to make up. i am still curious as to what his friendgroup looks like because. did thjey stop hanging out. ARE hiromi and kevin too awkward to see eachother. anthony and fred are children of divorce. its so sad. well we'll see what happened eventually

It was great to see veronica hill back again too i missed my queen. i hope she finds love on the open sea.

actually speaking of that i was so sure that that was gonna be the boat from that sinking feeling and it was going to change the trajectory of the dwampyverse timeline forever but i think that was just a tease or a really really vague reference

the villain was also incredibly funny. great voicework too im sure it was some guest voice or something that i just dont recognize because it just feels that way to me.

great guy hope he comes back. and the reocurring THERE ARE NO LAWS ON INTERATIONAL WATERS BABY was actually funny.

also i cant not mention the CANON DWAMPYVERSE LESBIANS were BACK BABY women FIND EACHOTHER AT CLAM FEASTS ITS REAL AND TRUE.

it really made me happy to see that especially since i was so positive that we werent gonne get any rep from dwampyverse but obviously im WRONG and there are 2 beautiful women loving eachother and eating clams out there.

he played it so cool too. an ally.

I was almost disappointed the song was so early because i wanted a dramatic clam musical number but thats literally minimal complaint i have about that episode because it was such a strong opener.

also congrats to the newlyweds lunchlady and piano key vendor i think they will have a long lasting and beautiful relationship.

also when i saw those 2 old man leaving i was like wow are we getting a double whammy with gays but that was just a cameo. next time though

The Great American Telenovella

THE RETURN OF MY QUEEN. the opening in the hospital made me think it was gonna go in a completely different direction.

Both of these episodes had the songs super early on interestingly enough. i didnt even realise the Fresas De Amor theme song was THE song of the episode. i thought it was just a jingle..

i was really happy that we got a carolina-centered (well a stretch but she was there a lot) episode. i really like her.

the animation was back to normal in this episode too which was a little sad and maybe skewed my opinion of the episode a little bit but not TOO much. i think.

despite being tricked on where the episode was going the gimmick with making fun of telenovella tropes was really really fun.

it felt almost like a rarity investigates type thing where they get really into character trope LOL

the first lady they interrogated (THE VILLAIN IS THE VILLAIN!!) had such a great design too i really like her.. the whole bit with her abandoning the show to become a taco crunchies commercial star was great too she gagged me.

and also her being like ok ill just sit here and watch all my personal belongings burn. I giggled..i cant lie..i did giggle a little...

ok i cannot dance around it any longer but THE RETURN OF LA CEBOLLA. I REALLY DIDNT THINK ITD BE THIS EARLY I WAS SO HAPPY.

i saw her in the back as the lunchlady and i knew everything was going to be ok.. I was safe in her hands..

also her powers were used super clever i really enjoyed the Onion Fists. and also the dramatic shot of hamster getting concussed by an onion.

this kind of goes back to me being shocked the telenovella intro was the episodes song because i was really hoping we'd get another la cebolla number akin to fighting facial hair again

i also get another shot of her lying in a hospital bed. the one from her song is literally one of my favourite pictures ever so its great to have another equally as bizarre one

shes definitely maybe my FAVOURITE hng villain so it was great to see her again.

im biased so i wished she had gotten more time to shine but also i think that entire scene with hamster pretending to be her son la cebollito.

it was really funny karina did great with the line delivery there. i loved how she was like But why are you so small!??!?!?! i love that she runs on telenovella logic. a true method actor

i really did enjoy that episode but hakuna ma kevin really felt like the stronger episode to me maybe SOLEY because of the animation. im an artist im easily pleased. they cant just tease me with god tier animated hng and then rip it from my hands as soon as i get it. its ok...ill get over it..ill forget it soon... (single tear falls from my eye)

I HOPE THAT WAS READABLE i might do more of these for the rest of the episodes as they release its actually really fun. we;re so back. hng season 2 Is already peak. Its my favourite dwampy show for a reason. i am hng strongest warrior. WERE SO BACK

[1nephthys]

The rings.

This is actually part 2 for the ring but honestly, you won't miss anything without reading this first part (besides super cool plot ofc). Also, Charles won the championship and Sebastian Vettel is here too because this man own my heart. Hope you enjoy it!!

Word count: ~2.3k

Warnings: suggestion of smut but nothing too graphic, my English and rainbow throwing-up sweetness.

Charles felt like he had been standing there for years. His hands were a little sweaty and his tie cutting out all of the air that was supposed to go to his lungs.

His brother noticed that but as the good brother that he was, he just send him a cheeky smile and shook his head. Beside him, his best friend Pierre and his other friend Carlos looked at each other, both of them with the same thought behind their eyes: How did that girl manage to still make this guy that nervous?

Finally, piano music stole everyone's attention but not for long because a few seconds into a romantic song, everyone's eyes landed on Kika wearing an amazing, long dress and holding the hand of a little girl dressed in the same color. Sebastian looked proudly at his daughter as she was throwing flowers at his old teammate's wedding.

And that might get Charles's attention for a second, sending a grateful smile towards the older, retired driver but that was until he noticed the one and only he was waiting for that day.

He had to blink away the tears in his eyes to actually be able to look at his almost-wife. More than once, hell, probably more than a hundred times in his life had he imagined her in a long, white dress but non of his visions were even close to the sign before him. He was glad that the aisle she had to go through was so long because he had enough time to take a little tissue from Lorenzo's hand and wipe away the tears that still managed to fall from his eyes and still had a second to admire her.

"Hi" she said in a whisper, not trying to break the silence that was there when she reached him. She had her veil behind her and her friend made it lay prettily on the few steps behind the couple, she herself adjusted the front part, that was covering her face and part of her shoulders. She looked at her soon-to-be husband though see-though material with tears in her eyes.

"Hay", he answered with a deep breath as he grabbed her hands. It was happening, he really needed to calm down before he forgot his whole speech. "You look... Amazing." He complimented her.

"You too, but you need to stop before I cry. Literally took too long to do this make-up." She said quietly, making him, her bridesmaids, and his groomsmen letting out a little chuckle and leaving the rest of the guests clueless.

(no idea what weddings look like in different cultures so you just gotta imagine that, but the vows are always cute af)

Soon enough, the ceremony started. "And now, it is time for vows." The older man next to the couple said.

Y/n took a very, very deep breath, knowing that she is going first. "Charles, I met you all those years ago, back when non of us were even thinking about marriage, we were too young to think about settling down but now, there's nothing I want more than settle down with you. You came into my life unexpectedly and turned it upside down, but actually, you turned it back the right way. You brought calmness and love into my life, two things I'd been crewing badly. Standing there today, I want to promise you, to always be your proud wife and be there through every up and down. Hold your hand during storms and tsunamis. Wipe away your sad tears and keep the happiest smile on your face. Hand you a glass of water in sickness and take care of you. Always be your number one fan. Stand like a wall behind you, be your shoulder to cry and best friend. Because as long as I got you, I will be alright because I love you more than I love life itself." Charles squeezed lightly y/n hands and send her a grateful smile as she let out the next deep breath she had been holding.

"Y/n, we both know that my speech had no chance to beat yours, so I'm glad it's not a competition. You always been smarter with your words than me, actually, I believe that you are just smarter than me, but that's okay, that's on my list of reasons why I love you. I would read it to you but I'm afraid that we won't have that much time in our whole lifetime. I would rather spend it finding out the next things to add to this list because I know you will never stop surprising me. You are the best thing I have in my life and I am incredibly grateful to my best friend and his wife for finding you because you are my person. I might have won a few things in my life but winning over your heart was definitely the best and the most important of them all. I, also, want to promise you my whole lifetime, my love, and every little piece of my heart. I promise to guide you through everything we will be facing together, be proud of you, and keep you by my side 'till the day my heart stops beating."

If y/n didn't make all of their guests cry, now adding Charles's vow, they for sure were. Even Arthur put his pride aside and lost the bet with his friend that he wouldn't shed a tear.

"Now, you can exchange your rings." The little girl appeared again and handed y/n and Charles two, beautiful rings.

"Thank you." Charles said quietly to her as he take a smaller one and grabbed y/n's hand. With both of their hands a bit shaky he somehow managed to put it on her ring finger and after he admired it for a second, he let go of her hand so she can grab the other one too.

"Thank you, sweetheart" She said to the girl again and with a big smile on her face little girl ran to her father, mom and siblings. This time y/n put the ring on Charles's hand and lifted her eyes to look at him through the material on her face.

"I now pronounce you wife and husband! You might kiss the bride!" Was heard across the building the clapping begin but it wasn't matter, not when Charles carefully lifted material on y/n head and sneaked under it too, putting it over both of their faces now. There was something magical with the way their eyes met and the way Charles put his hands on y/n checks. She put one of hers over his and the other on his neck as he pulled him closer for the kiss. Slow, and oh so loving. Kiss, that turned into a wide smile even before they pulled away from each other.

"I can't believe you are actually my wife, Mrs. Leclerc." Charles whispered close to her face. Oh, how sweet that sounded.

"And I can't believe you are my husband" She answered him.

He grabbed her veil and helped her put it back so her face was fully seen now. Then he grabbed her hand and made their way to the door as their friends and family clapped for them.

The wedding was magical. And oh, the party was magical too.

"Sorry, may I have everyone's attention?" Y/n heard Pierre's voice through the spikers and she looked at her husband in terror but he only laughed knowing that his very drunk best friend is about to make a fool out of himself "Thank you." He stared again and then cleaned his voice. "We are here today to celebrate the love of my lovely friend Charles and his wife, Y/n. When I and my wife set them up a few years ago, I never thought we would end up here. Like yeah, he was cool for a few dates but I never thought he would pull her that much."

"Wow, thank you, mate." Charles yelled at his friend as he squeezed y/n waist a little bit more as he made a few guests laugh with his comment.

"Don't lie to yourself. You may have a pretty face but you still can't form a proper sentence in front of her. Lucky matherfucker. Anyway, setting you two together was probably one of the best things I ever did. And I expect y'all to be grateful for the rest of our lives. Thank you." Pierre put the mic aside which caused this awful noise that lasted few seconds before someone grabbed it again.

"Yeah, Pierre speaks true. Y/n now that you are truly a Leclerc, I can finally say that you are my favorite Leclerc ever. Peace out." Arthur said quickly and put the mic down, this time in a good enough place, blessing everyone's ears.

"Want to go outside for a second?" Charles practically yelled to y/n ear as the music started playing again after his friend and brother's speech.

Instead of answering him, she just grabbed his hand and pulled him towards large doors.

Outside, he started guiding her towards one of the cars, not really caring whose it was. He sat her on the hood and started caressing her thighs.

"Don't mind me, I'm really enjoying the party but I can't wait to take you home and celebrate just with my wife." He said, his lips close to hers but still not enough to kiss her.

"Few more hours and you have me all to yourself" She answered and pulled him for a very craved kiss with her hands on his cheeks.

"Hey! That's my car" They heard which made them pull away. "Oh, that's you. Sorry, I didn't know." Carlos explained himself, his drunk state probably made him not notice the only white outfit there. "But now that you not kissing anymore, can you please, move to your car. Preferably inside."

"Sorry, mate. What are you doing here?" Charles asked, trying not to act like he just got caught. They both acted like two kids that were doing something they weren't supposed to.

"Isa asked me to bring her the other shoes. The ones she's wearing are too uncomfortable." He explained while opening the door and grabbing nude shoes. "Please, don't have sex on my car" He said as he made his way back inside.

Y/n blushed so Charles assumed her that it was okay by squeezing her hand a little. "Don't worry, he won't remember that in the morning. Let's go back inside." He said and with their fingers together, Charles was able to feel her wedding ring which made a proud smirk appear on his lips as they went towards the party full of their closest ones.

---

It was a rough hour of 4 in the morning and Y/n and Charles finally got home from their wedding reception. Of course, they were incredibly happy to have all of their friends and family there and that for sure was the wedding of the decade but that didn't change the fact that all they wanted was just each outer.

Y/n dropped her body on the couch as Charles unbuttoned his shirt and got on his knees to help her take off her shoes. His feet hurt like crazy after all that dancing so he couldn't imagine how she felt in those heels. After her feet were free he got closer to her face and kept himself steady with his hand on her waist. He kissed her lips.

"Should I help you with his?" He asked referring to her dress.

Before she answered she gave him another kiss "Please."

So, he pulled her up to stand on her feet and started undoing the corset of her dream wedding dress, he was really slow with it. His fingers were brushing her back from time to time and his lips were doing the same on bare skin of her shoulder.

She turned around in his arms as he finally completely undid it and put his hands on her waist. Her own went straight to the back of his neck as she pulled her closed and placed her lips on his in a loving kiss.

Charles was quick to put his hands on y/n thighs and without breaking the kiss he carried her to their shared bedroom. He put her on the bed and hovered over her supporting all his weight on his palms beside her head. Her hands wandered down to fully take off his fancy shirt and then even lower, to undo his belt.

She stopped when his sweet kisses hit the soft spot on her neck, making her moan, one of his hands went lower almost where she needed him the most.

"Charles, please" She whispered, as her hand run through his hair.

"Let me enjoy my wife for a bit." He answered.

And with that, she knew they were in for a long ride and she was right because the rest of the night or more like, the early morning they spend tangled in sheets together, for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.

a/n. Hope you enjoyed it!! I'm planning to write more for Charles but honestly, every time I try writing a series I just lost interest in it so as much as I want them to have babies, it won't be part of this. Also, I really want to write sth for Lando, so feel free to request:) Kisses xx

[woozisguitar]

SEVENTEEN members as songs from ttpd (from the first drop)

s.coups- i can do it with a broken heart

starting off slightly sad but he’s a real tough kid and he can definitely handle anything.

i think I saw an edit of him somewhere to this and cried

i’m seriously so proud of him always

taylor did write this for all the eldest daughters/ siblings

just super coups coded

jeonghan- fortnight ft. post malone

“your wife waters flowers i want to kill her” peak jeonghan vibes. he would commit a crime for funsies <3

also “i love you, it’s ruining my life” because man did he def ruin my life

tell me one jeonghan fan who’s mentally stable, we’re all a little crazy (myself included)

insanity and everything packed in one fr

joshua- fresh out the slammer

HE IS THE PRETTIEST BABY EVER OKAY

i too would go to jail for him

i’d also never lose my baby again

honestly him and jeonghan are both interchangeable, they’re both pretty and insane

OH! and i’d also disappear for a glimpse of his smile like fr fr my joshy :((((

jun- the tortured poets department

who’s gonna know him and love him if not me??

we’re also modern idiots and slightly crazy

OH! also the bridge is so junnie coded like honestly anything he does makes me feel like my heart will explode so

junnie is everything in this song minus the tats and drugs he's my precious boy <3

hoshi- but daddy i love him

the way i’d actually scream this song for him

also the vibes are so hoshi like im 90% sure he’d vibe with this song so hard

especially when she says "im having his baby no im not" he's ijboling right then and there

idk man it’s just so hoshi and i would definitely fight my dad for him

wonwoo- loml

he is actually so loml coded

like soft, played in a piano kind vibes

especially nana tour wonu

just very soft

he’s the love of my life and loss of my life as well because there’s actually no man that’s ever gonna be like him, ruined men for me

woozi- down bad

are we like actually surprised tho? that's my fav song and he is my fav boy

this man is literally so down bad coded

i’ve been singing and thinking of him like fuck it if I can’t have him, but i will definitely die not like tis gonna make a difference

IM LIKE SO IN LOVE WITH HIM OH MY GOD

also crying at the gym = lee jihoon (in reference to that one t-shirt he wore during caratland 2023)

minghao- so long, london

not the lyrical but mostly the vibes

this song is kinda calming to me in a way and it feels so hao like

also it reminds me hai cheng in a way maybe because of all the ship metaphors

i also feel like he’s appreciated the sadness in this song

he has that certain same whimsy as this song

mingyu- guilty as sin?

GUILTY AS SIN IS HIS SONG OKAY?!?!?

I WILL CHOOSE HIM AND ME RELIGIOUSLY ANYDAY

physically feeling sick how that bridge is literally so mingyu coded like holy fuck like gonna crucify me anyways? the way you hold me is actually what's holy??? its literally him

truly the best way to die is loving him

okay i’ll stop here before I die, he is just so <3

dokyeom- who’s afraid of little old me?

simply because he is such a nice person and such a lovely soul i worry people might take him for granted

the industry does not give him enough credit for him vocals like they should be scared of him he can eat up any vocalist in seconds

like they should be afraid of him that he's so goofy and silly

also the musical vibes here truly a kyeomie song

seungkwan- the alchemy

ALL THOSE SPORTS REFERENCE ARE FOR HIM!!!

my babiest boy ever

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me” I CANNOT PUT ENOUGH EMPHASIS HOW SEUNGKWAN THIS IS

my heart will truly always be reserved for him

also he did make the strongest comeback fr

vernon- florida!!!

honestly, vernon’s favourite song here would be florida like fr

it’s just so vernon

he’d like eat up the featured and the beat right when she screams florida!!!!

13/10 would plan a trip to florida and brag how he's been to two places wtny and florida

the vibes are just so vernon fr idk what else to say

dino- clara bow

future of kpop, need I say more?

he’s like all the past legends but more better?

kinda like how she talks about it in the song, with the next being slightly better than the previous and yk what they've been through and stuff

and how dino is also called the future of kpop because he's so amazing

“the future’s bright, dazzling” so real like that’s literally about the future of kpop

anyways that's my take <33 I might do a part 2 with the second drop songs (no promises!!)

you can also find this thread on my twt here.

[hotxcheeto]

❥ 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

"𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠. 𝙤𝙧 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚."

❥ 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 - 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁

❥ 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

❥ Before | Angst - Ellie and reader were best friends until Joel's untimely end. After Ellie blames you, you have no choice but to deal with it. Now, you have patrol with her, until you just so happen to meet the same end as the man before.

❥ Faces of the Past | Angst + Fluff - You hadn't seen your sister or anyone from your past in years. Deciding to let that part of you fall away, disintegrating away into the wind. But those faces plague you, staring back at you as you have to choose. Your family now, or your family from the past? Whoever you don't choose, isn't going to have a happy end.

❥ Muffin Love | Fluffy + NSFW - Your child of a girlfriend can't seem to go to back to sleep despite the early morning hours. You, being the perfect partner, get up ready to bake you guys some breakfast. That is until a few comments towards Ellie's bedroom abilities give the green eyed girl another idea.

❥ A Minute Is All It Takes | Angst - Ellie and Dina leave you and Jesse in the dust. Together while you both wallow in your sadness, drink after drink you find yourself wandering to the bathroom. But a heated argument makes you fall apart, and it all happened in less than a minute.

❥ Cinnamon Swirl | Angsty fluff - You can't seem to get out of bed, and your girlfriend decides that its her job to cheer you up. Even if it means laying with you until you start to feel okay.

❥ She Was Home | Fluff - Ellie comes home wanting to lay down with you. Talking to you about everything and nothing. Only problem? You can't seem to stay awake for long, not that she minds.

❥ Hold Me Till the Sun Comes Up | Fluff - Nightmares plague your mind and despite the overwhelming darkness you decide not to wake up Ellie. Though, the girl seems to have a sixth sense, waking up and despite your pleads. She won't go back to sleep until you follow her into your dreams.

❥ Quiet | Fluff + VERY Slight Angst - You don't talk. Always silent, and despite dickheads telling you you're the rudest person to ever walk the planet. Your girlfriend doesn't seem to care.

❥ Too Much Talking | Smut - Ellie just can't seem to stop talking, not paying attention to you and you decide that just won't work. Time to shut her up, and it works, almost too perfect.

❥ Friends | Fluff + NSFW - You'd never lived in a good home, and neither had Ellie really. And despite all the bad in the world, and the short time you'd both been friends. You guys just clicked, in more ways than one.

❥ No More Tears Left to Cry | Angst - Ellie just can't seem to contain her jealousy, even if it hurts you in the end.

❥ Early Birds | Fluff - An early day on the farm, and you just love those sheep. Even if one is technically a goat, seeing you feeding the baby goat from the bottle makes Ellie start to wonder. Maybe having more people around the farm isn't such a bad idea.

❥ Avoidance | Fluff - You were in love with your best friend and you hated yourself for it. But she had the same idea, and old birthday party by the lake from almost 30 years before might just be the token to your love.

❥ Sunday Afternoon | Fluff | MODERN AU - Ellie's favorite series gets delayed and finally a new issue is released. And despite it raining and your want to stay on the couch. You take a trip down to the bookstore, and it turns into time of fun.

❥ The Piano Key to my Heart | Fluff - You love to play piano, and Ellie loves to watch. Especially on those rainy, cloudy mornings. But she can't lie, she does love to sleep.

❥ High Jealousy | Smut - Ellie is especially jealous when she smokes a little weed. Even more so when you tell her you just might have to stay a little late with the one person she hates.

❥ A First for Everything | Smut - You were a virgin, Ellie knew that and she didn't care one bit. And neither did you up until Dina made a small joke that gave you the push you needed.

❥ Late Night Terror | Angst + Fluff - Ellie had a nightmare and yells for you, but of course you had to use the bathroom just as she needed you. Good thing you didn't go far.

❥ Partners | Fluff - You and Ellie are new partners and you can't believe you haven't hung out before then.

❥ Crybaby | Smut + Fluff - You've been a brat, and Ellie is patient with you, always. But this time she wants her fun, even if she calls you her little crybaby, she loves you. She loves you alot when you beg, because your her little baby. Her little crybaby.

❥ Caught | Smut + Fluff - Ellie cancels your movie night and you can't help but feel disappointed so to make up for it, you decide to have a little 'self love'. But you end up getting caught by the same person you were thinking of, though it turns out better than expected.

❥ Bathroom Activities | Smut + Slight angst + Fluff - You were jealous of Dina, even though neither her or Ellie would hurt you. She's just so perfect, but Ellie is here to remind you that you are just as perfect, especially to her.

❥ Watch Me | Smut + Fluff - Your best friend Ellie has never had a lap dance, you decide to change that which leads to a little more than a dance.

❥ Rollercoaster | Fluff | MODERN AU - You're a bit scared to go on the bigger rollercoasters, once Ellie catches on, she makes sure you know it's okay to be afraid.

❥ What Friends Do | Fluff + Smut - Ellie and you are best friends, no filter and no bullshit. But a hot and heavy scene happens to appear on the movie she put on. And you have been so needy lately. So maybe she can help, i mean, that is what friends do.

❥ Argumentative | Angst + Fluff - Ellie is such a dick sometimes, and you don't want to go on a mission without resolving your issues but she's just too stubborn and argumentative. Then something happens, and she realizes that you were right, she was being stupid.

❥ Addiction | Smut + Fluff - Ellie is very inexperienced and so desperate to get off. You don't mind helping, even when she's so addicted to your body. And uses you like her favorite little toy.

❥ Not A Couple | Angst + Very Slight Fluff - You and Ellie weren't dating but she knew you liked her, she knew and she still chose to break your heart in two. And she hates herself for it.

❥ Little Green Monster | Smut + Fluff - Ellie can get easily jealous, only afraid of losing you and loves to remind you that your hers. But she'll deny till the day she dies that she's jealous, even though it's written all over her that little green monster paid her quite the visit.

❥ Desperate Clinging | Smut + Fluff - Ellie is your clingy little desperate baby, and you'll always take care of her. Always. Even if she's a little annoying.

❥ What's Your Favorite Scary Movie ? | Fluff | MODERN AU - Ellie and you happen to meet at a drunken hang out and she just so happens to like you, a lot more than everyone else anyway.

❥ The Best of Friends | Smut - You and Ellie are best friends, until a certain situation makes her confidence spike, and all it took was a spicy scene on her TV.

❥ Her Life and Her Death | Smut - Her existence begins with your love, and it will always end with it. Especially if she's got a choice in the matter. But hearing you say it out loud... man, she could hear that forever.

❥ In Her Eyes | Angst - You're becoming just like your father, and Ellie has to watch as you spiral back to his angry ways.

❥ Insomnia | Smut + Fluff - Ellie can't sleep and can't figure out why, until she accidentally wakes you up. And you seem to figure it out real fast.

❥ Renaissance Portrait | Fluff - You're an actress, Ellie makes props, of course you'd cross paths.

❥ Waking Up Again | Angst + Fluff - You get bit, and though it seems like the end. Nothing ever really ends, does it?

❥ Movie Night | Fluff - You and Ellie have a movie night.

❥ Pink Catalyst | Smut - She really liked your new, pink shorts. So much, she of course had to show her appreciation.

❥ Melatonin | Smut + Angst + Fluff - Ellie, ever the insomniac, wakes in the night and may just need you to comfort her. In more ways in one, that is.

❥ Bad Idea, Right? | Smut + Angst + Fluff - Your ex girlfriend Ellie is at the same party you're at. And when she just so happens to 'run into you by accident' you talk... and talk until you decide to go home with her. I mean... this is a bad idea, right? Fuck it, it's fine.

❥ From top to bottom | smut + fluff - opposites attract they say, and you make sure to see it through.

❥ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

❥ Spicy Toys (HC) | NSFW + Fluff

❥ Her Kinks | Smut

❥ Ellie With Your Younger Sibling | Fluff

❥ Ellie With a Rockstar Gf | Fluff + NSFW

❥ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

❥ smut drabble #1

❥ smut drabble #2

❥ 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

❥ A World Inside Walls | Part Two | Part Three

- You were new to Jackson, having no one left to console you, everyone you know now a corpse somewhere. You find solace in the local graveyard, and so does another girl. Time after time you get to know her, Ellie. , one thing just happens to lead to another despite the weight on both of your shoulders.

❥ One Night Stand Masterpost | Smut + Angst + Fluff - You and Ellie meet on a one night stand, that ends up not being just a one and done.

❥ The Before, Then the After | Part Two | Fluff + Slight Angst - You and Ellie have known each other for a long time, and things have changed, you have changed, but no matter what you still love each other.

❥ 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬

❥ 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚

❥ Shirt Stealer | Fluff - Time for bed for the three of you, but you can't find your shirt. But you know just where it is.

❥ 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲

❥ Euphoric | Smut - Ellie decides she wants to try something new, inviting a good friend into the bedroom. Both of you excited to try out this new idea, and God, you loved it more than you thought.

❥ Double Trouble | Smut - You, Ellie and Abby never seem to get along for more than five minutes. A strange tension lingering over your arguing, that's until one day you nearly die, and the two figure out that you might like their teasing a bit more than you let on.

❥ Three is a Charm | Smut - Three is a charm, two is not the same. I don't see the harm. So are you, game?

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 19

Linda looks so good in this sort of not-quite-right preppy style. I think it fits who she was as a person in this time so well, and that’s one of the things I love about Linda is that she just dresses up as herself. You know? Like she wears things that are true to her and she doesn’t care if that means a mini-skirt in January or hairy pits on stage. And that confidence and introspection and happiness is so, so attractive.

And that is why they love him. (you know, besides the fact that he’s a piano prodigy or whatever) So secure. BDE off the charts.

Linda talking photography with whoever that other photographer guy is.

George: what could it be, Paul? John: jumps to answer for Paul like it's 1964 and they're at a press conference.

What do we think? John cut himself shaving? Or is it a hickey?

It ends up that John’s meeting must’ve fallen through at 1:30, so Paul is the only one gone. And it seems to me that John purposely plans this time when Paul’s gone to talk to George and Ringo about Klein. George: er, what did you want to talk about? John: er, well, just that I saw Klein, you know. . . . but I want to tell you all at once, you know, so it’s not . . . Sure, John. Cut to 1971 John talking about “doing a job” and “maneuvering” to get those two on the Klein boat. smh. sad. 

But, really, for a guy who admits to having been a manipulator since primary school, he’s so easily manipulated. John. A man who you just met cannot know you as well as a man you’ve known since you were seventeen. No matter how he flattered you, it’s just not possible. The way he said it with such conviction, too! He sincerely believes this bullshit.  

“Old Brown Shoe” is not my favorite lol but I’m so happy for George. To me, it sounds like it’s about leaving old roles, old patterns, old relationships, the beatles, behind in favor of something more exciting and fun. Good for him. 

I know this is a “yeah, duh” comment, but Billy is such a gifted musician. Instantly catching on to the stylophone, jumping on guitar the minute George is on piano. So impressive.

Ugh, the tone of voice John takes with George. They’re all messing around, as they constantly do, including George, when John decides it’s time to focus. He says, “George, come on,” in literally the most condescending voice. As if George has been the only one derailing everything out of his own immaturity and John’s finally losing his patience. I can’t. He’s not fourteen, anymore, John. 

One more quick Linda appreciation because she's so cool and so pretty and I love her so much.

I wonder if they actually did have a “tune up” as George Martin put it, after teasing him that they wouldn’t. It just cuts off from John being like “remember Bob Wooler” to them doing a take of “Don’t Let Me Down.”  

John singing “I need you” at Paul (who is very passionately shaking that maraca). Not I want you. I need you. And making These Faces as he plays the guitar. Like, to be clear, those are not singing faces. He's not singing while he's doing that. He's just doing that. He looks so horny and in so much pain. Bro. How do you do that with God and everyone watching? 

At which point, Paul decides he needs to get completely out-of-it stoned, and the most unwatchable one minute and seven seconds in all of Get Back occurs. “Grease Paint” my beloathed.

Oh, okay, George just constantly cleans his guitars. I think I remember reading an old beatlemania era article that said while John and Paul treat their guitars as tools, George loves and cares for his. 

And then we pan out as John says, “Allen Klein’s here,” and sings, “I want you so bad” in the same breath. What are our thoughts? Does John sincerely think he’s helping everyone by getting Klein? Or is it more selfish?  

[rmemebrt]

Venus and Mars

I'm making another album analysis because Paul Mccartney is a devious vagrant, and no one else will count his sins.

You can check out the one I did on McCartney II here

Side One

Venus and Mars – Very much a blend of old and new musically, Venus and Mars are alright for now

Rock Show – He looks like a guy you knew way back when??Madison Square and long hair? alright buddy

Love in Song – You notice a lot of wanting, yearning, looking at the past here, The Homeland, remembrance, the love that once was there

You Gave Me the Answer – As it live here, this is a Linda song, however, it's structure, it's themes, it seems to suggest it would have been a John song, if given the chance, remembrance, also Granny Music lmao

Magneto and Titanium Man – Who among us will be strong enough to make Paul McCartney's marvel oc real?

Letting Go – This song is super John coded, it sounds like Beef Jerky, along with that we also get the mention of divinity, and Mother Nature

Side two

Venus and Mars (Reprise) – Wanting to go away on a trip, Running into a good friend

Spirits of Ancient Egypt – Okay we start with Baby and Love, making it seem pretty classicly Linda core, however! longing and yearning, spirits and the past coming over the phone? and "I know", okay pal

Medicine Jar – drugs!!! <3

Call Me Back Again – Certified mclennon classic, we all know it, we all love it, if you pair it with Tell Me What You See and I've Just Seen A Face you'll be sobbing for an hour

Listen to What the Man Said – We are right out of the gate with New Orleans mention, that classes this immediately as mclennon, ♥ love ♥, the ending is very late beatles

Treat Her Gently – Lonely Old People – A sweet song, also some yeahs in there, pretty Linda Coded as all things go, but could be a little mclennon-y if you want it

Crossroads – A nice outro and way out, Venus and Mars have met at the crossroads, but crossroads are meant for passing

I'd say overall, the original Venus and Mars is a very mclennon coded album, there are elements in the songs that you can feel were for John, and also just some great music, it's definitely really good.

Now let's move on to the other additional tracks!

Junior's Farm – Time to seek inner peace by going to a farm in the middle of nowhere and also kill Richard Nixon!!!

Sally G – But going to a farm to seek inner peace reminds us of the past! Like what caused you to come to the farm the first time! Big Gay Divorce reference!!!

Walking in the Park with Eloise – Something nice for his dad :)

Bridge on the River Suite – B-side to Eloise, a nice instrumental, a little melancholic

My Carnival – carnival? like carnival of light!!! No, but it's nice to see him get to act ringmaster, if you wanted you could spin this to be about The Big Gay Divorce

Going To New Orleans (My Carnival) – This being right before Hey Diddle is just sad, like dude, you are not going to see the girl, her ass is back in NYC

Hey Diddle – I wonder who he could possibly be yearning for in this, who in the world could Linda be reassuring him that "next time around she will be here"

Let's Love – The piano, the style, this for sure was going to be a John song, the asking to spend this brief time together, the references to phones, oh my god, the ending notes sound like Dear Friend

Soily – Fun, whimsical, no value to the fag theory, but fun nonetheless

Baby Face – More whimsy and fun, Granny once more

Lunch Box/Odd Sox – the b-side to Coming Up, so, gay by proxy, not as much whimsy, more so melancholy

4th of July – bro... "you came in with him again/and suddenly, I knew it wasn't my day" what the hell

All in all, it's really gay, it's gayer than McCartney II could dream to be, it holds more weight because it's the sessions where John was supposed to be there, but couldn't, and that is reflected in most of the songs.