#The way Emily and Emma are long gone

[unhingedlesbear]

Bro the absolute state of the SMG character elimination on reddit has me dead 💀💀

For context, the characters still left are: Charlie, Dylan, Kaitlyn, MIKE AND JASON

Every other character has been voted out by now. Erm anyway good luck to Kaitlyn ermmm get Mike and Jason out !!

#Charlie and Dylan could also win but like #GO KAITLYN GO #But the absolute STATE of this is insane #First 3 out were Alex Taylor and Rachel which ermm #The way Salim has been eliminated before Mike or Jason #The way Emily and Emma are long gone #The way Mark was gone by round 8

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

A/n: A little bit late for Valentine, but here ya go! Idk when I'll continue this, but this has been stuck in my brain for a long time.

Goldwing

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2

You’ve heard about the story tales from your Mother Sera. How Lucifer has fallen because of his bizarre dreams.  To give humans a free will, which cost chaos to the world. 

As a punishment he was forced out of heaven with his Love Lilith. Sera claims that she wanted you to be safe, so there is one top rule she set up: Don’t Question heaven. 

You keep on holding tight to this one rule, not like your sister Emily. She gets into a lot of trouble when you’re not watching, which gets you also in trouble. 

Big Sister, Big responsibility, that’s what your mother always says. 

Sitting on the couch looking down at the apple sign on your wrist. It was a small apple with a snake surrounding it. It’s a Soulmate mark.

Every Angel gets a soulmate, so they get the perfect heir, some angels describe It as a heart pull and ache. You don’t really enjoy that you’re forced to love someone. It’s somewhere unfair that humans can marry someone they choose to love and trust. Meanwhile when Angels reject their bond, it will kill the two Soulmates in a span of time. 

Even when they’re too long apart it will show in a disturbing way. Aggression, Not eating, no sleep, the list goes on and on.

Putting your sleeve above your mark, not wanting anyone to see it. You got once because of it in trouble. Not a pleasant memory that you want to re live.

It does remind people of Lucifer, but he got Lilith, his soulmate. So that possibility is shrunk to zero. Why else sacrifice living in heaven for a woman?

Today was the meeting with Charlie the daughter of Lucifer. She wanted to talk about a hotel named Hazbin Hotel. 

…Time Skip…

The court room was all a mess, chaos has broken out whispering and hushes echoed through the pearly white halls. 

Emma broke the Silence with her soft singing voice “But she was right, Sera. She Showed us the soul can Improve. He saw the light, Sera. Checked all the boxes that you said would.” You Interrupted Emily and for the first-time in your live, you disobeyed the one set rule. 

“Prove a person deserve a second chance, now we turn our Backs, no second glance?” Sera looked towards you slightly disappointed but also guilty. 

Then the bomb was thrown in the room, extermination. It left you speechless. Why hide something like this and say it was for protection? 

It all went down so quick and with one move you started to doubt everything in heaven. Sera was scared, scared shitless that she’d loose Emily and you, but mostly you. 

You started to Ignore her and rarely left your room. The betrayal was harsh for you. You trusted your mother dearly and now you find out that your mother kills souls because she feels threatened. Threatened because of Lucifers dreams she said was once foolish. 

You started to break rules after Rules, causing a havoc in heaven when you leaked the Information about an extermination in hell. And in less than a week you were in chains in the courtroom. 

“Do you have any Idea what damage you’ve done Y/n?” Sera’s voice echoed through those now soulless halls. The seats now all almost empty. “What damage I’ve done? You call me the Imposter, but have you ever thought what you’ve done? You lied to your people AND your Family Sera.” 

Ouch, you never called her Sera just Mom. “Just do it already, I’m tired of hanging in here and watching my failure of a mother trying to push this longer.” You spat on the cold floor. The coldness reminds you how the last few days felt in heaven. Cold and lonely. “As you wish, do it.” her voice cracked, it was barely audible, but you could hear it. 

You shut your eyes tight and with a swift Moment you felt how your wings were cut off, your scream filled these cool, lonely court room. Sera was already gone, not wanting to see how she failed in one of her children.

The rest of your wings were ripped out of your back, making gold blood squirting all over the white floor painting it in a unique color. And then you fell, too exhausted to let out a desperate call for the comfort of your own mother.  

She didn’t even stay. 

Tears pooled lightly out of your eye. Even though heaven didn’t feel like home anymore, you’ll still miss heaven. 

The wind gushed on your Injured back making it only hurt more than it already does, you fell so fast, this is something you never really experienced you never fell as an Angel. But you fell, you fell deep and Landed on the ground. 

It the worst you’ve felt in these last hundred years of living. The bone that was connecting your wings with your body broke more into splinters at the impact. It had dirt sticking on your bones making you hiss as you tried to stand up making them move slightly in the dust. No success. 

You tried a couple more times, but you feel your stamina running out fast, so you just gave up. You laid there for a couple of seconds before you eventually pass out. 

Lucifer sat in his magic room, where his magical creations came from. The only thing besides Charlie what kept him happy. He took final glances at his old façade. 

It’s time to move on and move into the Hazbin hotel, even though he hates that radio guy, he does everything for his little Charlie. He walked out of his mansion closing it with a key. Taking a deep breath, he spun around and was ready to go. 

Something crashed loud in front of him, swirling all the dirt into Lucifers face. He coughed and waved the dust away. “What the fuck?” He looked at the cause for this early tumult, only to see a very beautiful woman in front of him. It didn’t take him a while to see that she was pretty bad Injured. His eyes dropped at the golden blood. “Oh no.”

The figure tried to stand up but fall multiple times and passed out after a while. No, no, no, no. Turning her around to see the damage, and it is bad. 

Three main bones ripped and broken apart, making him note down that she wasn’t just any Angel, she is a seraph. “Let me help you.” He carried her body very carefully, so he couldn’t do more damage towards her back. Teleporting himself and his other stuff in the hotel apartment, he laid you on his bed with your belly pressed on the mattress. 

He started to heal your back slowly and washed off the dirt from your face and the injury. He knew he couldn’t fully heal her wings back. But she could survive this with his help. And in an odd reason he couldn’t let her die. Some kind of pull on his heart making him already slightly attach towards the sleeping beauty. 

And this routine was repeated every day and when he realized her back was fully healed, he turned her on her back again. Seeing her now in all her beauty. 

“How can someone be this pretty?” he moved a hair strand out of your face and held your cheek. Stroking it a couple of times, it is as if he’s hypnotized. 

Shaking his head, he let go of her very quickly, “Lucifer you can’t just touch someone, she doesn’t even know you nor who you are.” He bit his long-clawed hand, debating whether he should go or not. 

In the end he left the room with heavy displeasure. Somehow not being near you made him angry. You were hurt and needed every protection he could offer. 

His mind screamed at him to go back to you, but he didn’t. This feeling confused the king of hell but, His mind and body were almost like two separate people.

 He pulled up his sleeve looking down at the red apple mark with a golden blue snake on it, like his halo. It was his Soulmate mark, he loves or loved Lilith dearly, but she wasn’t his mate. 

They both thought it may didn’t showed because Lilith is after all a human. Even when he had a soulmate, after landing in hell, he knew he’d never see his soulmate ever. 

He pulled his white sleeve again over the mark, not wanting to think about the what ifs. Maybe helping his daughter would keep his mind from you. “Let’s help Charlie.” 

After a while Lucifer still caught himself worried about you. 

You were laying on his bed for weeks, he healed you every morning and every evening hoping that you’d finally wake up. 

The arch angel Lucifer, and now king of hell, was worried about a seraph, what sarcasm. 

Getting ready for bed, Lucifer started to dress himself in his night gown and went to the couch. Since you’re sleeping on his bed, Lucifer decided to sleep on the couch. He didn’t want to disturb your healing progress

…

Hugging yourself into this blanket was heaven, and the smell of sweet apple and an alluring scent of musk. You never want to leave this place, for the first time since months you felt in peace. 

Fluttering your eyes open, you stretched you arms and legs, but one thing was missing. Your wings. And then reality came crushing down on you. You fell, from heaven. Your mother let you fall down the drain. She lied and didn’t even try to explain it to you. 

It was hard to breath as if you’d re-live the horror of falling from heaven down to hell.

You shacked uncontrollable making you Fall out of the bed. Out of habit you tried to fly those few centimeters. 

With a shallow thumb you fell on the floor. 

You winced from the Impact, and you tried to push yourself up with the next high object with shivering hands. 

This was a different gravity situation. 

Without your wings you slumped forwards, nothing to weigh your back. 

You pushed yourself upwards with the help of the shelf above you. The shelf lets out a creak from your weight and you fall back down with the shelf. 

The whole content on the shelf fell and crashed into pieces and you fell right into them. 

The ceramic pieces digged into your freshly healed wounds, you know that when you move, you’ll re-open the back wound. 

Out of panic your body began to move on autopilot.

With low groans and muffled screams, you leaned on the bed, golden blood smearing around the broken shelf and the white mattress. 

You started to sob at the pain. 

It was dark and all you wanted was to bathe yourself in the scent of that blanket. 

You searched for it. 

In the darkness you couldn’t quite figure it out where the blanket was but after a while you found it.

Holding the piece of cloth on your nose just to smell the comforting scent. You yelped when the light flicker on. A figure standing in the light. The figure was about 5’10 tall. 

You hid behind the blanket not wanting to look at the sudden appearance at the front door. 

…

Lucifer shot up at the sound of breaking ceramic. His mind told him to run towards the sound that came out of your room making him high alert. 

An Intruder? 

But who’d dare to come into the king of hells chamber?

Then he remembered that you were in his room, and without second thought he rushed towards your bedroom turning on the lights.

“You’re awake!”

#lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #y/n #archangel lucifer #seraphim

[kamyru]

F. Prompts with ways to say "I love you" inspired by literature quotes

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. – Emma, by Jane Austen

I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. – Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. – Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. – Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte

You have been the last dream of my soul. – A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens

I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest. – Much Ado About Nothing, by William Shakespeare

I want to know you moved and breathed in the same world with me. – Benediction, by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Having begun to love you, I love you forever - in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself. – Tess of the d'Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy

It has made me better loving you ... it has made me wiser, and easier, and brighter. – The Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James

I've never had a moment's doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life. – Atonement, by Ian McEwan

"How do you spell ‘love’?" "You don’t spell it…you feel it." – Winnie the Pooh, by A. A. Milne

If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you. – Winnie-the-Pooh, by A.A. Milne

You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how. – Gone With The Wind, by Margaret Mitchell

Don't ever think I fell for you, or fell over you. I didn't fall in love, I rose in it. – Jazz, by Toni Morrison

If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets. – Kafka on the Shore, by Haruki Murakami

I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning. – Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. – 100 Love Sonnets, by Pablo Neruda

You and I, it's as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught. – Doctor Zhivago, by Boris Pasternak

Kiss me, and you will see how important I am. – The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, by Sylvia Plath

There are darknesses in life, and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights. – Dracula, by Bram Stoker

When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew. – Falstaff, by Giuseppe Verdie

Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you. – Selected Diaries, by Virginia Woolf

#her love in the force #irresistible mistakes #oops i said yes #plust loving u so true #plust #professional boyfriend #romance md: always on call #romance md #tokyo love hustle #voltage inc #prompts

[adiarosefandoms]

Top 3 OUAT Ships

Once Upon a Time gave us plenty of ships in its (too) long run, but these three in my opinion were the best.

1. Rumbelle

They took the series darkest most depraved character who was a famous fairy tale character in his own right, and then placed him under the mantel of the Beast combining two absolute icons and led him to fall in love with Belle (aka obviously the best princess) who they made an Aussie, and then had the audacity to hire the phenomenal Robert Carlyle who has a Scottish accent and is 20 years Emilie’s senior. This could have gone so horribly or so well, and it went the latter. The ever-repeating storyline of Rumpel just saying “I can change” and Belle giving him another chance is SO frustrating, but I ignore most OUAT post season 3, and in OUAT’s prime, Rumbelle was undoubtedly the best ship. (Also, I just remember how excited I got as a little seven-or-nine-year-old girl when they introduced Belle, it was a game changer for me.)

2. Captain Swan

I love Captain Hook. I’ve always loved the story of Peter Pan, but never did I expect to fall in love with Captain Hook of all people. But what made OUAT so unique in its time, was the way it completely scrapped the original storylines of our favorite fairytale characters and recreated a rough plot that connected them all together. Eventually it became an un-unravelable web of knots and tears, but at the beginning it was just so innovative and great. We were all waiting for Emma to get a love interest because she’s a female lead character in a tv show and that is the way according to tv gospel, but none of us were ready for the Irish eyeliner-wearing Killian Jones. The best relationships in the show be they familial, platonic, or romantic, were the ones between a hero (Emma) and a villain (Killian). The redemption arc he goes through thanks to her as well as how he gets her to more easily embrace love (though not completely as the show had a real difficulty with letting their characters grow) just shows how good they were for each other. Plus, we love a slow burn where the two bicker incessantly. It’s just so entertaining and as long as the bickering continues you know the fire is still burning.

3. Outlaw Queen

Robin Hood and the Evil Queen is not a ship I would have thought of when reading the original stories, but somehow OUAT makes it work. Literally destined to be together according to stolen pixie dust and a mediocre lion tattoo, we have yet another couple made up of a charming man from the UK and a stubborn woman. (I’m starting to think I have a type.) Regina had been deprived of a romantic storyline post-Queen due to being a villain or perceived villain in previous seasons, but as a fan favorite character we were all eagerly awaiting to see who the showrunners would pair her up with. The dynamic between Robin and Regina was one filled with heavy emotions of love and heartache, especially by the end. But it also remains to be one of the show’s most beautiful romances.

#once upon a time #OUAT #Rumbelle #Captain Swan #Outlaw Queen #Belle #Rumpelstiltskin #beauty and the beast #captain hook #killian jones #emma swan #robin hood #regina mills #evil queen

[queenofbaws]

(im sending this So late in the day, but i hope ur havin a good one queenie ;w;) i imagine that the hacketeers are both too polite to ask but also nosy enough to theorise amongst themselves about why jessica is covered in what looks like a concerning amount of scratch and bite marks... but i also feel like if she Was asked, jess would just come up with more and more insane stories

definitely more than six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

It was something she’d gotten used to over the years, people asking about the scars. She couldn’t blame them, really…not when it was something she’d do in their place. Lots of people had scars after all, tiny little nicks or pale shapes standing out here and there, but very few people had scars like hers. Or quite as many.

She had to hand it to the Hacketteers, though…it took two and a half weeks for the first person to ask.

“Hey, so like, super personal question, feel free to ignore it or tell me to shut up or whatever,” Emma had said, and Jess had never been much of a mind-reader, but she’d almost been able to mouth along with what came next: “But how did you get those?”

They’d snuck away while the campers were at lunch, her and Emily lounging on the dock with their shirts rolled up to let their bellies tan, and though she’d stayed flat on her back with her hands behind her head, she’d known Emily had sat up by the sound of the wood creaking beneath them.

Jess, however, had kept her feet dangling, letting her toes skim the water of Lake Septimus, and she’d pointed to the indents on her stomach instead. “These?” she’d asked before heaving a long, exasperated sigh. “Ohmigod, you wouldn’t even believe it…I fell into a tanning booth once. The glass broke and just went everywhere, it was this whole mess.” She’d heard the wood creak again, and known without looking that Emily’d set herself back down. “Sued the shit out of them, though. The tanning place. Then Em and I went out and bought these killer shoes. I’ll have to show you them sometime.”

And Emma had been quiet, then, the same way people always went; there’d been a look on her face that suggested she didn’t know whether to believe her or not. “Oh,” was all she’d said. Then she’d rolled onto her stomach to let her back get some sun, and that had been the end of that.

A few days later and most of them had been milling inside the lodge, hanging the week’s art projects where all the kids could see them. She’d picked up a papercutting and stretched it out, the single shape spreading and spreading to reveal the abstract snowflake shape that’d been cut into it, and to either side of her, Abi and Dylan had gone strangely still.

“Gnarly scars,” Dylan had said, sounding a little too off-handed to be believable.

Hardly loud enough to hear, Abi had breathed, “Oh my God,” and though Jess hadn’t looked, she’d felt her cringe into herself.

“What, these?” Jess had asked, still holding the snowflake out wide, but nodding towards her arms with an innocent smile. “Yeah, I guess they sort of are, huh? Go figure.”

“How’d you get ‘em? Fighting a bear? Slow dancing with a lawnmower?”

“Dylan,” Abi had hissed, and when Jess had glanced her way, she’d seen her ears and cheeks and neck had gone cherry-red. “You don’t just ask that stuff, oh my God…”

Jess had stuck a sliver of her tongue out then, just enough to make it look like she was concentrating, and she’d hung the snowflake on the wall. “Huh? Oh, don’t even sweat it, I don’t mind! It’s really sort of an embarrassing story, but it’s not like…bad. I got chickenpox really, really bad when I was a kid, and you know how the doctor tells you not to scratch? Well.” She’d allowed herself a little laugh, then pointed to the series of scars that were most obviously slash marks. “They tell you that for a reason, okay? I learned that the hard way.”

“You…scratched yourself. That deep.” Despite Abi’s obvious mortification, Dylan hadn’t been able to let it go, bending a bit to peer closer at the marks. “How itchy were you?”

And because she’d had years and years to practice, Jess held her hand out so her fingernails lined up with the jagged marks. More or less. “Really itchy,” she’d laughed.

“And you…didn’t get stitches for that or anything?”

“Oh no, I did,” she’d beamed, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes and acting for all the world like she was the dumbest person alive. “Scratched them open too. Chickenpox, man…” She’d glanced Abi’s way and shook her head before grabbing the next art project to hang. “Serious shit.”

The questions had become less subtle as time went on – which she’d expected – and by the time the kids had been sent to bed and it was only counselors around the dying embers of the firepit, Jacob hadn’t pulled any sort of punch.

“Jess! Level with me, wouldya?”

“Wuh-oh,” Mike had groaned. “This spells trouble.”

“Ah, shuddup dude. Look, everyone’s thinking it but no one’s got the stones to ask – is that a fuckin’ bite you got there on your shoulder?” He’d been laughing, but even in the low light of the fire, she’d watched Mike and Matt’s expressions go stony. “How’d that happen?”

Before either of them had been able to leap to her defense, she’d raised her eyebrows and stood from her seat, sauntering over to take the half-eaten s’more out of Jacob’s hand. She’d finished it, chewing thoughtfully, and then carefully sucked the marshmallow fluff from each of her fingers in turn. “What can I say,” she’d smiled, patting his shoulder before heading back to her seat. “Em’s kind of an aggressive kisser.”

There’d been some laughs at that, and a wolf-whistle or two, but it’d passed as quickly as it’d come on. Even if Mike and Matt had made a point to bookend her for the rest of the night, letting her rest her head against them and rubbing her back where no one else could see.

It wasn’t until the end of the summer that she ran out of stories. They’d been packing up pool toys, the pool house stiflingly hot and reeking of chlorine, and she’d been tired enough that Kaitlyn had caught her completely off guard.

“Hey,” she’d said, helping her secure the last of the floaties in the closet before taking her by the arms in a gentle, worried-mother hold. “This is rude. I know it’s rude. Buuut I heard the guys saying some stuff the other night, and I just…look, they’re all idiots and I know there’s no way they’re telling the truth. I know you didn’t let a snapping turtle near your face, okay? You can play ditzy-doo all you want, but I’m not buying it honey, not for one second, nuh-uh. So…can I ask how…?”

“I think we should head back to the lodge,” Sam had said, clapping her hands together with a smile so perfectly warm on the outside no one would’ve ever been able to guess at the discomfort it was covering up. “You guys know how Mr. Hackett gets if we – ”

But Jess had just met Kaitlyn’s look with a smile of her own, tired and resigned, and she’d mimicked the hold by setting her own hands on Kaitlyn’s shoulders. “We had this friend named Hannah, once. I played a really mean prank on her, and because of that, she turned into a monster and tried to kill me. All of us, really, but…well, she was sort of maddest at me. She pulled me through a window and dragged me through a forest, and when none of that killed me, she dropped me down a mineshaft. I got cut up pretty much…everywhere. And most of them didn’t heal right because of the frostbite. And because apparently there’s a lot of weird stuff in monster-spit, so I got a few infections too.”

From over Kaitlyn’s shoulder, she’d watched Sam’s shoulders go lower and lower until they seemed weighted down by anvils. Her smile had remained, but Jess hadn’t been able to remember a time where her eyes had looked so sad. Not in years, anyway.

Kaitlyn had watched her for a moment, then snorted so hard that she covered her mouth and nose. “Uh huh,” she’d laughed. “Oookay, you got me. Super rude thing to ask, I deserve that. But seriously, if you ever do want to talk about what really happened, I’m a girl who loves a good story!”

Jess had smiled, and Jess had nodded, and in the end, Jess had said what she always did: “Oh, for sure! But I’m warning you now…you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

#fudgeroach #six sentence weekend #queenie writes supermassive #HEY SO i didnt mean for this to become. EMOTIONAL. but. HERE WE ARE I GUESS!!!!!!! #ty ash for this glorious prompt - i am havin a good one ty and i hope you had a good one too!!! #fr tho i need to write.........so much more jess. i love her so much.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

316 of 2023

Unique Words and Uniquely Spelled Words [True or False]

Created by joybucket

You've purchased something from a mall kiosk. You like the name Rhiannon. You've gone kayaking on a lake. 🛶 You've gone kayaking on a river. 🛶 You own a kayak. 🛶 It's been a long time since you've last kayaked, and you'd love to go again. 🛶 You enjoyed kayaking. 🛶 You like the Japanese name Kaori. You've met someone named Naomi. You enjoy renaissance festivals. You've been to Utah. You've been to Saskatchewan. There is a shop in your town called Serendipity. You've met someone named Saoirse. You have a grandma named Lois. You like avocado toast. 🥑 You'd never heard of avocado toast before until you heard YouTubers say they liked it. You've been to Azerbaijan. 🇦🇿 You've been to Uzbekistan. 🇺🇿 You've been to Guyana. 🇬🇾 You shopped at Aeropostale when you were in high school. You own something from Abercrombie & Fitch. You've walked through Abercrombie & Fitch, but you've never purchased anything from there, because they're too expensive. You've heard Aeropostale pronounced different ways. You've wondered what the correct pronunciation of Aeropostale was. You've wondered why the word "aardvark" has two A's next to each other. (ever heard of Dutch and Afrikaans language, though? Long vowels are normal here) You've not sure if you've ever seen an aardvark in person. Your bra size is bigger than your mom's. You think broccoli tastes good in soup, pasta, and cheesy rice. 🥦 You went to high school with an Ashley, an Ashleigh, and an Ashli. You've been friends with an Emily and an Emilee, Emilie, Emeli, Emile, Emmaleigh, or Emma Leigh. You like the name Brogan for a girl. You feel like your life has consisted of one big catastrophe after another. One of your favorite worship leaders is Charity Gayle. 🎶 You like the name Skylar. You have your bed catawampus in your room. 🛏 [Catawampus= positioned diagonally] You own a lava lamp. You can think of at least one song you like by Christina Aguilera. You've owned an album by Christina Aguilera. 💿 You've made a dreamcatcher. You've driven down an Avondale Road. You own a pair of galaxy print leggings. You like the name Alexa. You don't think you've ever met anyone named Siri. You've been to Papa New Guinea. 🇬🇳 (isn’t it “Papua”, though?) You've been to Guam. 🇬🇺 You've been to Ethiopia. 🇪🇹 You like the name Brynn better than Lynn, because it's unique. You've met someone named Gardenia. You've met someone named Gloria. You like the name Veronica. You're claustrophobic. You've been put under anesthesia for a procedure. You like the names Chloe, Carlotta, and Carmen. You went to school with a Simone. You've read the book of Ecclesiastes. 📖 You've spun a dreidel. You've looked through a kaleidoscope. There is a gazebo in your backyard. You like garbanzo beans. You've been to Kalamazoo, Michigan. You've played a kazoo. You own something made of bamboo. You're feeling bamboozled at the moment. You know the meaning of the word "ecclesia." You know the meaning of the word "acquiescence." You listened to Evanescence as a teenager. (I still do) You like eggnog. You've wondered why so many medications start with a Z. 💊 You take Zofran. 💊 You take Zoloft. 💊 You take Zyrtec. 💊 You remember learning about Count von Zinzendorf in school, and you thought he had a funny name. You've tried escargot. 🐌 You've been to Zimbabwe. 🇿🇼 You've been to Botswana. 🇧🇼 You've been to Guinea-Bissau. 🇬🇼 You've played the oboe. You've met someone with the last name Odorzynski. You like the name Cheyenne. You've met someone named Shariah. You love the name Bianca. You've been to Cincinnati, Ohio. You went to school with a Suzy. You own a pair of Lularoe leggings. You think Lularoe is a scam. You like the name Azteca. You've been to Venezuela. 🇻🇪 You learned Venezuelan history in school. 🇻🇪 You know what a shaman is. You've met someone who claimed to be a shaman. You've played the shofar. You like flamingos. 🦩 You're wearing a fluorescent color right now. You like the smell of potpourri. You've mixed together your own potpourri. You like the name Felicity. You've played with a ouija board. You've seen the aurora borealis. You've been to Australia. 🇦🇺 You've rocked a baby to sleep while singing a lullaby. You've owned a gecko or iguana. 🦎 You've been to Israel. 🇮🇱 You like the name Spencer. You've worn a fedora. You've attended a university as a student. 🏫 You own a varsity jacket. You've seen a real live jaguar in person. 🐆 You've met someone named Tatum. You know someone who pronounces "February" funny. (probably every Dutch person lol) You feel that so far your life has been a complete fiasco. You have asthma. You've watched Jeopardy. You think you'd rather be a contestant on Family Feud than you would be a contestant on Jeopardy. You like zucchini bread. You've tried guava. You'd like to try guava, because you think you'd like it. You were born before the start of the new millennium. You were born in the new millennium. You have to pay mortgage payments on your house. 🏡 You like jacaranda trees. You were born on a Wednesday. You're taking this survey on a Wednesday. You frequently take medicine for nausea. 💊 You've recently eaten a bologna sandwich. 🥪 You like the color fuchsia. You've met someone named Loralei. You've vacationed on an island. 🏝 You've been to Chicago, Illinois. 🏙 You've been to Iowa. You've been to Ohio. You've called someone a nincompoop. You've had pneumonia. You've experienced anaphylaxis. You frequently feel flabbergasted and flummoxed. You've heard the name Aislinn pronounced different ways. You like the name Brigitta. You've recently done something scandalous. You've been an exchange student in a foreign country. You've recently experienced a calamity. You've recently received an epiphany. You've been called a wild hooligan. You've met someone named Esther. You've joined a sorority. You've gone to a Presbyterian church. ⛪️ You've gone to an Episcopalian church. ⛪️ You've tried papaya. Your parents nicknamed the neighbors "the buffoons." You like jalapeños. 🌶 You've worn a sombrero. You've tried kumquat. You've been feeling lackadaisical lately. You spend a lot of time lollygagging. You're often scatterbrained. You've explored the Amazon rainforest. You thought this survey was unique.

#survey #bolding survey #themed survey

[avocado-frog]

Forget-me-not. 26 (lmao I didn't outline this one)

Chapter rating: M Chapter warnings: Past kidnapping, isolation, child abuse, neglect, gore, eye trauma, death threats, past death. (all of this to a kid who is like nine years old by the way I DEEPLY apologize) This is what happens when I don't have a plan Chapter title: 7/30/2017--3/14/2019 Word count: 2000 Summary: Ryan has a knife, what will he do. The chapter in which Ryan takes out Elliot's eye and adds a new tick to the trauma bingo

(July 30, 2017, two years before)

The clock above the door ticked steadily. Ryan glanced up, fingers dug deep into the white quilt on his bed, knuckles turning yellow. An hour. Sam had been gone for an hour.

He tried not to worry. Sam was always okay in the end. Ryan didn't know what to do if he wasn't. He stood up, it'd been too long since Sam left, and left for the bathroom attached to the main room.

Ryan refused to look in the mirror. He wasn't identical to his brothers, but he was too close to Elliot in face shape, eye color, and stature to look at himself without seeing Elliot and wanting to cry. Sam looked like him too, sometimes. Ryan couldn't look at him either. Ryan looked more like his mother, too. He didn't want to think about her, or his brother.

There was a hand towel by the sink, spotted with little red dots, that Ryan used for Sam whenever he came back, and that Sam would use for Ryan. Sam would be back any second now- had to be- and so it was best to be prepared. He took the towel off the rack, folded it, and left.

Setting it down on Sam's bed, he couldn't do anything but wait, knee bouncing, as he watched the clock above the door. His dread grew with each tick, every second Sam was gone.

The door buzzed, and Ryan flinched, hands twitching to cover his ears. Panic spiked, heart dropping, when it wasn't Sam, but a taller woman in a white coat and latex gloves, a blue surgical mask hiding her face. She was waiting for him. Emma- maybe Emily- he thought her name was. He never bothered to keep track of their names, neither did Sam.

He stood up, hands shaking, trying to stay calm, as he followed her. The latex glove covered his, she led him down a white hallway, through tiled floors, florescent lights buzzed above them. It was all too sterile, too clean, he remembered what it was like outside, unlike Sam. Sam couldn't remember. Ryan wanted to go outside again. He always promised his brother that they could go together someday. Maybe they'd be able to.

He liked to imagine his mother taking him down the hallways whenever he was taken out of his room, instead of the stranger with him. Maybe Elliot, too. He missed them.

He let Emily lead him up the stairs, a place he'd never been before. Ryan looked up instead of down until they got to the top. 

If he looked down, Sam would be clinging to his sleeve as they ran down the staircase, away from the man with the chainsaw, and Ryan would trip over his brother's lifeless body, as the man grew closer, and the door would open, and helicopters and vans and lights would be swarming around them. He didn't look down.

They walked down the hall, the second floor this time, and Ryan was getting tired, unused to walking for so long. Emily stopped in front of a door, removing the keycard from her neck, one hand planted firmly on his shoulder. He paid careful attention to her hands, as she opened the lab coat, removing something small- a blade?- from the pocket inside.

Emily was talking to him, but the mask, and the sounds of muffled screams made it hard to hear her. She handed him the scalpel. It was cold.

The door unlocked, and Ryan kept his eyes on Emily's hands, flinching when they moved. Her hand remained on his shoulder as she pushed him inside. She stayed behind him when the door locked again.

The scalpel felt heavy in his hands, he stared at the floor now. Black and white, checkered, tiles met his gaze. Blood was smeared on them, more visible on the white tiles. He swallowed thickly, a muffled cry for help echoed through the small room.

Ryan recognized the voice as Sam's, and willed himself to look up. He met gazes with Sam, held against the wall from behind with a knife to his throat, one gloved hand over his mouth. Sam's gaze flickered over to something else, something Ryan hadn't noticed.

A second person, a small, boy in a white uniform that hung loosely on his thin frame. He paced around the room, hands shaking, as he mumbled something to himself, unaware that Sam was there, and unaware that Ryan was there. His hair was bleached white, flopping over his face. He threw his head back, laughing at something.

He knew who it was without really knowing. He looked back at Sam, who gave a stiff, subtle nod, trying not to move with the knife to his throat.

Sam blamed himself for Elliot's death, and on bad days, so did Ryan. He'd seen everything, he knew everything. He remembered tripping over Elliot's body. He knew Elliot was dead. And yet, here he was, talking and laughing, shaking and pacing.

Emily told him to do something, and Ryan barely heard over his own thoughts. Elliot had been alive the whole time. He wanted to cry again.

Ryan understood Emily's words, despite having hardly heard. Sam had a knife to his throat, Ryan had a scalpel in his hands, and Elliot was there, too.

The scalpel grew heavier, as he tightened his grip on it, walking towards his youngest brother, in the way of the small circle he was pacing in. Gently, he put his hand on his shoulder, breath hitching, as Elliot didn't seem to recognize him.

Kill him.

Kill him, or they'll kill Sam.

He could try to reach out to Elliot again, he thought, hand still on his shoulder, now pushing him against the wall. Elliot didn't struggle. He simply stared at Ryan, gaze empty, like he didn't even see him. He didn't even try to fight back.

So, Ryan let go of his shoulder. Elliot didn't move. He only stared. He was getting desperate now, for any sort of reaction. He couldn't do it.

There was still a knife to Sam's throat.

"Elliot?" Ryan tried, and Elliot's eyes still held the same amount of recognition, nothing. "Elliot, please." Say something. Scream, cry, just do something. What did they do to you?

"Elliot." Ryan shook his shoulder, and Elliot didn't respond. Ryan sighed softly, expression twisting. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it. "I'm sorry."

Elliot's hand twitched, and moved, grabbing onto Ryan's free hand weakly. Ryan gripped his hand tighter, raising the scalpel.

It plunged into his brother's eye- the gold one- and blood spewed out, splattered across both their faces. Ryan staggered back. And yet, Elliot still didn't scream. He just fell, to his knees, blade still in his eye, and then, fell to his side. The hand that had been holding his fell away.

Blood pooled around his head, and Ryan took another step back, mouth open in a silent scream, startling when Sam barreled into him, almost knocking him over. Sam trembled, and Ryan kept his eyes locked on Elliot.

Now, Elliot did seem to recognize him, as he hugged Sam and left Elliot bleeding on the cold tiles, now Elliot looked betrayed. Ryan didn't blame him. He remained frozen, gaze remaining on the youngest, as adults swarmed around him, and he was guided back out the room.

Back down the stairs, Sam refused to look down, too. Back down the sterile, white halls, back to the safety of his room. The door locked again.

Sam nudged his shoulder. "Ryan? ...You okay?"

Ryan didn't bother responding. Blood trickled down his forehead. It wasn't his.

Sam, now, had the back of his shoulder, and it was more comforting than Emily's, as he sat him down on the thin mattress. The towel Ryan set out for Sam in preparation now laid in Sam's hand. He barely heard the sink running, before Sam returned, and sat next to him.

"That was Elliot, wasn't it?" Sam asked, voice small. Ryan nodded. He wished he could forget like Sam, and clearly like Elliot. Sam pressed the cold towel to the blood on his forehead. "Thought so."

Sam finished quickly, the white towel soon soaked with blood. "There! Is that better?"

Ryan didn't respond. It still felt like there was blood on his hands. His vision blurred.

"Hey, hey, hey, woah, don't cry!" Sam was hugging him now. "It's okay, I'm okay. It's over now."

It didn't feel over. It replayed. Again, and again, the lack of recognition in his brother's gaze, the way the handle of the blade felt when it dug into his eye, the warm blood on his face. He grasped at the back of Sam's shirt, Sam hugged him tighter.

"You're safe. Promise. Elliot's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

---

(March 14, 2019)

Ryan wondered if Leo was right. She said that since he regretted it, of course he regretted it, then he was justified in stabbing Elliot's eye out. He regretted it, he'd tried to make it up to him, he hadn't been given a choice. Sam gave him the same reaction, the validation in taking Elliot's eye. Nothing he did could make it up to him.

He thought Leo was wrong, because even though, when he told the others, half-hiding behind his sister, no one hated him. No one wanted to kick him out, no one thought he was insane. And yet, Leo was wrong, because when he told Elliot, he screamed, and ran, and attacked him and Sam and Leo.

So Leo was wrong.

He sat next to his brother's bed, sitting on Elliot's desk chair. Elliot was asleep for once, after four separate tries, each ending with him jerking upright, screaming, breaking down into hysterical mutterings of apologies. Ryan stayed with him, because Sam was mad at him, and he needed to make sure Elliot would be okay.

It was midnight now. Ryan didn't like not getting sleep, but he'd done it plenty of times before. Tomorrow, he would talk to Sam, because he hated being mad at him. Ryan wasn't even mad at him. It was the other way around. He could only hope that Sam would forgive him. Otherwise, he was left with only one brother.

Elliot wore an eye patch still, while he slept, even if he technically didn't think he was supposed to. Elliot had a collection of them, a plastic one that had come with a pirate sword, to a real fabric one. Ryan had read about prosthetic ones, but they didn't have a hospital that could give him one. Elliot said he didn't want one, anyways.

His heart always plummeted whenever he saw it. He wondered what the purpose of that had even been. Just to hurt all three of them?

Elliot's hand twitched like he was going to wake up again, and Ryan slid his hand into his brother's.

"You'll be okay. Promise."

#its because of this chapter the trilogy dubbed baby triplet backstory has occurred and I will not apologize for the emotional pain of 28 #writing #original work #whump #? #warnings for gross eye stuff #tw minor whump

[peregrination-studies]

22 books I want to read in 2022

Thank you for the tag @the---hermit!

For the sake of organization, I’ve divided these into subcategories: science and ecology books, reading around the world books, classics/Rory Gilmore reading challenge, and books recommended by friends/other. I've also included a few bonus books :)

SCIENCE AND ECOLOGY BOOKS

1) The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan (I read the Young Reader’s edition) (read July 2022)

2) The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben (read Oct-Nov 2022)

3) Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (read Nov-Dec 2022)

4) Plastic by Susan Freinkel (read Nov 2022)

READING AROUND THE WORLD

5) The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini (read Oct 2022)

6) Four Hundred Souls: A Community History of Africa by Ibram X. Kendi (read Dec 2022)

7) The Sex Lives of Cannibals: Adrift in the Equatorial Pacific by J. Maarten Troost (read May 2022)

8) Atlas of Vanishing Places by Travis Elborough (read Dec 2022)

9) A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah (read May 2022)

CLASSICS/RORY GILMORE READING CHALLENGE

10) A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (read Sept-Oct 2022)

11) Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert (read September 2022)

12) Emma by Jane Austen (read October 2022)

13) Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

14) The Lusiads by Luís de Camões (Dec 2022)

15) Catch-22 by Joseph Heller (read September 2022)

16) On the Road by Jack Kerouac (read September 2022)

RECOMMENDED BY A FRIEND/OTHER

17) Daughter of Smoke and Bone (series) by Laini Taylor (changed to Daughter of Smoke and Bone just book 1 on July 2022) (read January 2022)

18) A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara (please feel free to advise me against this one as I'm on the fence about it)

18) His Dark Materials (#1) by Philip Pullman (replaced A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara) (read Oct 2022)

19) (the rest next of) the Lord of the Rings books by J.R.R. Tolkien (Dec 2022)

20) The Humans by Matt Haig (read February 2022)

21) Dune by Frank Herbert (read Dec 2022)

22) Jumper (series) by Steven Gould (read August 2022)

BONUS:

23) Deep by James Nestor (read February 2022)

24) Reef Life by Callum Roberts (read June 2022)

25) Limits to Growth by Donella H. Meadows, Dennis L. Meadows, Jørgen Randers

26) The Opposite of Butterfly Hunting by Evanna Lynch (read April 2022)

27) Defenceless: Gli Ultimi Romantici by Giulia Vola (my Italian is,, a work in progress, but I'm still gonna try!! Shoutout to @occhicerchiati for writing a whole book! So proud of you and can't wait to read it! 💕)

We'll see how much I stick to this list! This was a fun exercise in getting excited about my TBR! I'll be posting about these (and many many more) on my Goodreads and Storygraph!

Tagging: @studyof-love-and-life @carnetsdelaura @deirdredoodle@courageisneverforgotten and anyone else who wants to do this!

#books #bookblr #book recs #to read #to try #tagged #book list #22 books #22 books to read in 2022 #2022 #resolutions

[daintydreamsy]

i want . someone to smooch me after having a good match (like Ada/Melly/Emily/Pretty ladies/Anyone else you wanna do). Like good rescue/kiting it doesn't matter i want ! smooch ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾♩ sorry if it's kinda simplecnfnfnf

while trying to finish another request, i'll do something short because u been waiting for this one for a bit (✯ᴗ✯)

I decided to write Mary's s/o as a hunter, rather than a survivor like everyone else, because it made more sense content wise.

I've included: Mary, Emma, and Melly

I've mentioned: Jack, Naib, Luca, Helena, and Freddy

Smoochin' some IDV ladies!

❁❁

❁❁

Mary (hunter reader):

it's no shock that you're not the best of hunters. more often than not you go friendly just to avoid the embarrassment of getting pummeled by mean survivors. but it was a rank match! you couldn't go friendly this time, not when it meant getting demoted back to the lowest tier. that would be an embarrassment not only to survivors, but to your fellow hunters as well.

so you tried your hardest, and did everything in your power to not get tricked, stunned, or mocked. and it all paid off in the end, didn't it? a nice, well-earned win.

to any other hunter, this might seem incredibly easy, after all you were going against some of the easiest survivors, Helena, and Freddy, two decode types, with no rescues! it would've been a piece of cake.

but as you relented the details of your match to Mary, she seemed very proud of you. she patted your head and cheered, "good job, mon amie!" she was so happy for you! Mary knew how hard you worked to get better, and it wasn't easy to be a hunter in the Manor.

she gave you a kiss on the cheek and patted your head once more. she really was proud!

❁❁

Emma:

Emma was used to constantly kiting, as considered one of the best "contain" survivors, she never relented in a bad match. and a bad match you both were in.

it was just you and her left, in fact. both of your teammates had died, and there was only one cipher left, but there was no way you would be able to complete it!

you were kiting, and not the best at it, as the stereotypical "weak" decode type, kiting was incredibly difficult for you. and Emma knew that, but she never held it against you! the opposite, in fact.

"it's so cool that you finish ciphers so fast!" Emma would constantly say. she totally loved that about you.

when the match came to an unexpected tie, after you kited for at least 90 seconds, Emma came up to you afterwards, talking so fast you could barely understand a word she was saying. but, she kept repeating the phrase "I love you!"

it was sweet, to say the least, she was always so nice. nice, was just a word you would use to describe a friend, but it was so devastatingly obvious that Emma liked you more than a friend but jeez, she would never admit it!

after a few more minutes of rambling, she pulled you into a sudden and short kiss. her lips tasted of the nectar from honeysuckle flowers. impeccably sweet.

"you just did so good! I'm so proud of you!"

Melly:

ok so, the match was doing pretty good! Naib had done a great kite, and Jack had even switched off of him onto Melly, who was kiting right next to your cipher. whatever! you could decode while she kited, your cipher was almost done anyway!

until Melly got downed. your cipher had just popped, and she only lasted for a few more seconds afterwards. Naib was across the map this time, though, and Jack was already trying to pursue Luca instead of camping her chair.

so you waddled over to her and rescued her, it was good that Jack was long gone, because you immediately began healing her as well. if he came back, you figured it'd be best that she wasn't on her last limb trying to kite!

she tried to push you away, mumbling "it's not worth it." but you knew better! you were smarter than to just let her go, the hunter wasn't even nearby, you guys would be a-okay!

as you brought her back to full health, she suddenly pulled off her mask, and kissed you. it was no shocker you guys were dating, but to have her do something so intimate in public?!

Melly was shy to the prospect of PDA, she didn't want to display it with her previous husband, but with you? it was a completely different scenario!

if Jack hadn't come back a few seconds later, maybe she would've kissed you again, or at least held your hand. but this time? Jack wanted you, and you weren't going to give up!

#identity v #idv #identityv #idv x reader #idv hunters #idv gardener #idv mary #idv bloody queen #idv entomologist #idv entomologist x reader #idv emma #idv melly #idv mary x reader #idv emma x reader #idv emma woods #melly plinius

[lyracasstuff]

I am NOT prepared to make myself sad,, you FRENCHIE!! ಥ⌣ಥ

However,, I will accept because as much as it pains me to write angst,, I also have to in order to improve my writing skills..

I'll do this in one shot/fic form as I feel as though I can convey emotions there better. That and I've been doing headcannons as of late,, so let's switch it up a notch..

WARNINGS: DEATH, BLOOD, SPOILERS FOR JOSEPH'S BACKSTORY

Joseph x fem! S/o

To be Sick at Heart💔

"How did this all happen?" thought the Frenchman, although it was more retorical, as he already knew deep down the answer to that question... He just can't accept it..

You had been an acquaintance to Joseph before, seeing as how your family served him, and the both of you only grew closer once you got caught in the twisted "games" of the manor. Joseph asked as to what had tempted you to accept the invitation of the manor.

It turns out, you were looking to find people who you can treat as your own family. In all your life, you practically had been treated like dirt, especially the time when Joseph had gone missing. Your family had given you love and acceptance, but it was short-lived seeing as how their lives were slowly taken from them early on in your life by sickness, you had no one but the other servants to take care of you.

The other servants cared for you, but not to the same extent as your family... You were aware of that fact as did they. So, when the invitation arrived, you couldn't help but accept right away.

It promised that "they" could fulfill your desire of having the bonds and relationships that you never had growing up, why wouldn't you accept? You would be missing out on a golden oppurtunity.

And so, that was how you ended up in this morbid manor, tricked and forced to participate in these "games" that gets everyone hurt much like every other survivor who came here...

Days had gone by. Weeks. Months. Hell, even years, and you were all still being forced to play.

Thankfully, you had everyone to keep you company during these times.. Thanks to your loving nature, you were able to be close with everyone in the manor, even those who are notorious at being secretive like Norton. You even managed to befriend some of the hunters as well.

But most especially of all, you were thankful you had Joseph to be there with you.

You were quite shocked when you saw the silver-haired count, as he had seemingly disappeared out of nowhere the last time. So to see him here made you pleasantly surprised.

Joseph as well felt shocked when he saw you here, albeit he took some time to figure who exactly you were as you looked extremely familiar to him.

It didn't take long for the both of you to grow close to each other where outside of matches, you two were practically inseperable. The both of you would be spotted having afternoon tea together, walking around the manor together, sightseeing for new photoshoot locations together.

You always did things together...

Over time though, you would grow feelings for the count and the same can be said for Joseph as well. However, your fears of being rejected has delayed the both of you from ever confessing about your feelings toward each other. The others in the manor can most definitely see your connection as bright as day, but they really didn't know how to go about helping you about it. After all, all of them never really had great experiences in their lives, so they don't know what would normally be best in a situation like this..

Despite this, you can't help but feel content and happy that you have found people that you can treat as your family. Emily and Michiko were like motherly figures to you with their kind nature. Leo treated you like his own daughter, much like how he treats Emma. Wu Chang, Andrew, Norton, Naib, and Eli were like big brothers for you, always being protective of you to keep you safe.

You really felt at home with all of the inhabitants. It almost felt as if being stuck in a manor wasn't so bad after all...

Almost

There was still one more thing you wanted to do. You had discovered your family, but you wanted to expand on that desire..

You wanted to start your own family

And you would want to do so with someone you love... That someone would be the Frenchman with whom you have grown immense feelings for.. So you sent him an invitation to go to the balcony of the garden at night, where you won't be disturbed by the others...

Unbeknownst to you, the Frenchman had been thinking the same thing, especially after reading the invitation you sent him. Can you blame him though? Seeing you interacting with him, along with all of the others, made him feel butterflies in his stomach. How you unconditionally helped the other inhabitants through their issues and suffering, not because you needed something from them, but because you wanted to. You wanted to help them, you wanted to nurture them, you wanted to support them...

With that feeling alone, Joseph finds that he just couldn't take it anymore... He wants to confess to you..

He wants to be with you, to call you his love, to marry you and call you his wife, and to start a family as well..

With that thought, he made up his mind and decided to accept your invitation, and there, he will confess..

It was night time, you were already at the balcony waiting, knowing that Joseph values punctuality and doesn't like to be kept waiting. Soon after, Joseph shows up. It seems as though he had been brisk walking which is evident by the way he's catching his breath in the slightest.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly and calmly began to confess your feelings towards him and how you wanted to start building a future with him as the father of your children.

Joseph was in awe, for he had never could've guessed that you felt the same way. He accepted, saying how he had always thought about you the same way, and that he would be honored to be the father of your children. Joseph took a few steps towards you, with you unconsciously doing the same. Joseph wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer, while you wrapped yours around his neck.

He lifted his hand and tilted your chin upwards to stare at your features, admiring them. The way your skin glistened in the moonlight, how your eyes sparkled with life when he stared at them. How your cheeks were flushed with the slightest hint of color.

You looked angelic to him.

Brushing his thumb over your lower lip, he slowly closed his eyes as he allowed his lips to connect with yours.. You can't help but reciprocate immediately, you'd been waiting for this moment to come. You truly felt happy that you took the risk to confess to him, knowing that he may have rejected you instead.

And that was the start of your blossoming relationship...

For the next few years, the two of you became more and more in love with each other every single day. Countless affirmations of love, bouquets of your favorite flowers, numerous cuddling sessions, along with the discussion of having a domestic life together..

You two really had the potential to have a wonderful life together...

But, there are repercussions in growing fond of the potential...

One time at a match, you had been feeling dizzier and more nauseous by the second, so much so that it frequently disoriented you from kiting the hunter properly. At some point even, you threw up a bit. Your team still won the match since the hunter decided to go friendly in the end because of your condition, however they were still concerned for you so they sent you immediately to Emily.

You were diagnosed to be pregnant..

Your thoughts immediately went to Joseph. A mixture of joy and anxiousness washed over you. Can be a good mother for your child? Can you really do this? Can you really start a family like you had promised? What if you do something wrong? What if you're not cut out for this?

Just as your thoughts began to generate more questions, Joseph runs in and looks over to you with wide eyes. Emily must've told him that you were pregnant with his child. He immediately went towards your bed and hugged you as he sobbed his heart out.

He was so convinced that the bright future you two head towards is certain...

Oh, how a fool he was for believing so....

2 months in and your belly hasn't been growing rapidly.. Normally, you would've had a small baby bump forming on your belly... Joseph and Emily had been constantly reassuring you that you might need to readjust your diet more to fit your baby's needs....

But, that's not the only thing bothering you...

You see, just as you haven't "developed" your baby, your dizziness and nausea didn't go away. For quite sometime, you thought it was normal.....

Until you see tiny specks and droplets of blood on your hand...

That's when you realize....

You're not actually pregnant.. You're sick...

Having this sudden realization, you quickly washed your hand and looked at yourself in the mirror... Maybe this was some sort of mistake? Maybe you're actually pregnant and you just scratched the inside of your cheek?

You were hoping. Praying, that it was anything else other than a sickness... However, as time passed, you felt yourself growing weaker and weaker...

For months, you had kept this sickness of yours a secret. You didn't want to make anyone worry about you and you especially didn't want to disappoint Joseph with the fact that you're not actually carrying a baby or make him devastated with your death just as he became devastated with his twin brother's death...

However, try as you may, the longer you kept it a secret, the more the others noticed. How your skin was getting paler, how your cheeks had started to sink in, how you became alarmingly skinnier and bonier, how your eyes became more dull and lifeless...

Most importantly, at how you became increasingly more secretive and quiet about all this.

Joseph was by far being more and more anxious than before. He didn't know what was happening. He wasn't an expert in medicine, but even he could notice that this isn't normal for a pregnancy..

Quickly carrying you to Emily, he asked for a check-up to see what was happening. You would've stopped him if it weren't for the fact that you were so weak, you couldn't move a muscle without hurting it.. There, he was informed about the condition you're in. He was just as shocked as you are, but there's a mixture of fear and hopelessness bubbling inside him...

No. He couldn't let this happen. Not again...

His breathing starts going rapid, his hands start shaking, he hugs himself as he looks at you at your weakened state with tears threatening to spill from his eyes...

Just as he was about to confront you, Victor had entered and pointed towards the main hall, signaling Joseph and Emily to go there.

Apparently, there's a meeting that's going to be held.

Joseph and Emily looked at each other before turning to look at you. Then, they quickly left the room, with you all alone inside with nothing but your thoughts and the life within you.. Or, what's left of it...

The meeting started once Joseph and Emily arrived as they were the only ones left to attend. Emily had to quickly explain your condition when some of the others questioned your whereabouts.. All were quite shocked and concerned about your sickness, however the meeting was said to be an important one so they had to stay. They'll just have to relay the information given to you by the time it's done..

After the meeting, everyone was so shocked and confused that for several moments, no one said a word.. Who wouldn't though? Because after all this time...

They were all finally free

Free from the clutches of the manor, free from the twisted "games", free from the prison that presented itself as a grand oppurtunity for everyone to get what they want.

They were free at last... Now, they can all live their lives as they want it to be...

Suddenly realizing this, Joseph quickly made his way back to your room. There was still hope he thought, he had hoped for you to get better and finally leave this prison together, along with the others.

But what he saw when he opened the door made him feel like his heart had been crushed into a million pieces...

There in your room, was you lying in your bed, breath shallow and rapid, crimson blood dripping from the side of your mouth and staining the sheets, your eyes looking duller and duller as ever...

You were grasping..

Grasping for whatever life you had left within you, it made Joseph run to your side quickly as he cradled your head in his arms, proclaiming you'll be fine and that you're all free now and that you just need to hold on for a little while longer..

But you both know that you won't make it..

You both know that Joseph is more so convincing himself, than convincing you..

The others had rushed in to see you, and they too were crushed for they also wished for you to escape with all of them...

You held Joseph's hand, and told him not to worry anymore.. Looking towards the others, you proclaimed that you had finally found the people that you can call your family, and that even if Joseph can't see you, you'll always be there for him no matter what.. And that you wish for him to be happy and enjoy his newfound freedom, without the confinements of the manor...

Joseph begged you to stay, to hang on, to stay strong, all while sobbing uncontrollably but to no avail...

You withdrew your final breath as your hand became limp, your eyes closed, and your body going cold...

...

...

...

You had died

For the second time in his life, he once again witnessed the death of someone he deeply cared about..

First Claude......... And now, you....

Joseph lost it as he let all his tears and sadness out.. Everyone, soon followed suit. They can't help but be crushed at the thought of their friend never making it on time for the escape....

The now former inhabitants of the manor prepared one last funeral in honor of your death, with Aesop embalming you, Andrew preparing the hole from which will forever be your resting place, Emma preparing the funeral flowers, while the others prepared the venue... The Red Church.. Everyone gathered and mourned for your death. By the end of it all, everyone left the cemetery and the manor together, with Joseph gripping a bar of the gate, longing to see you again once more and hoping that you were still alive somehow...

Alas, it never came. And so, he reluctantly left the manor and had trenched forward to live his life "to the fullest"...

But how can he ever live his life as he pleases when you're not around? How can he simply enjoy the pleasures of life when you aren't there to accompany him? How can he move on when he doesn't want to forget you?

These thoughts plague him constantly, as he stirs his tea mindlessly, looking into the distance, as his new "family" were chatting happily, not knowing what goes on inside his head..

He has a family now alright, but it wasn't perfect.. It wasn't with you.

That thought is enough to make him sick at heart, for he will never experience the joy he had longed for when you were still around...

Sick at Heart : to experience deep unpleasant emotions such as grief or disappointment

💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞

Author's Note: I hope you are all satisfied with this angst, Frenchie... Because you really made my day a bit sadder than usual..

Can someone pls request something fluffy the next time I open my requests?? I need some comforting chocolate cake after that bitter black coffee moment..(╥_╥)

Well,, until next time then! See you all in my next post!! (Ｔ▽Ｔ)💚

#identity v #identity v x reader #identity v oneshots #idv #identity v imagines #idv x reader #identity v photographer #identity v joseph #idv photographer #idv joseph #joseph desaulnier #joseph desaulnier x reader #joseph desaulniers x reader

[marmaligne]

General headcanons for Lucky Guy, perhaps? Please and thank you. -🌻🐝

✨ Of course ✨

[Lucky Guy] General Headcanons

———————————————————————

* His actual monomer (singular name) is Anoym. The anniversary card and site both stated this was a term he was often called by, taken from ‘Anonymous’ and ‘Pseudonym’, because he never actually stated his real name to any of the survivors, however his widely believed name is ‘Liam’.

* Liam was mostly a mystery around the manor—nobody ever attempted to make close contact with him, and he was generally invisible to most residents of the manor by some point.

* Hangs around the edges of the crowd, isn’t one to try to fit in, and is basically only focused on survival. Liam believes that making friends will only hurt him in the end—he’ll lose them to the death game, just like the life of that poor stranger.

* He has strange tendencies to talk to himself. Sometimes you can hear him mid-match whispering to himself at a cipher machine, other times he’s staring at a wall.

* Emily and Freddy used to speculate it was a result of all the trauma he’s experienced due to the death game, after all, he was at the manor long before any of them.

* The poor boy has witnessed a lot during his manor experience, it wouldn’t be too far fetched to believe he’d gone a little insane, if all of them hadn’t already.

* However, despite his quirks and tendencies, he’s still quite the happy fellow. In recent years at the manor, he’s grown out of his shyer persona and cracked open his shell a little bit. He smiles at passing survivors from time to time, and engages in conversation with some of the quieter people, such as Aesop or Andrew.

* Victor is his personal favourite person. They’re both rather shy and have quiet personalities, and Liam loves it when Wick gives kisses.

* When his birthday comes around, he feels like the happiest man alive. Before the manor, much like some others, he never really felt noticed or appreciated, and now, with a small community of people—friends—and tight-knit bonds, he truly feels seen. He never shares these thoughts with anybody however, and keeps the memories of the events hidden away in a journal next to his diary.

* He sleeps with an eye cover on—he dislikes crusty eyes in the morning and likes the sense of comfort and security the enforced darkness brings him, like an extra blanket.

* Sometimes stutters over his words, and it became really prominent once his maid costume arrived—a dare from Norton and Mike—that stuttering occurred when he was flustered.

* He’s never betting on who can make the most stuns ever again, they both have too much of an advantage.

* They called him ‘Unlucky Guy’ for awhile after that.

* Enjoys sunbathing and bubble baths, they boost his serotonin and make him feel like a kid again; small aspects of childhood memories of washing up after playing outside on a bright sunny day always return to him that way.

* He’s always had a more feminine figure, hence why he was able to fit into a maids’ costume, and has once before been mistaken for a lady.

* He was fairly pissed off, but could understand because of his more timid nature and small stature. From the backside you can’t really tell.

* He’s not pressed for time, and likes to live life slowly. The death game messes up his routine, because it forces him to to take chances and make risky plays in order to escape alive—sometimes putting others under the bus in order to scrape a win.

* That being said, Liam is compassionate—a little less so than Melly—and holds a deep sadness for some of the hunters and survivors. He’s one of the only ones who knows what Freddy did to Leo Beck, having discovered a ripped portion of the lawyer’s diary detailing the incident at the arms factory and Freddy’s involvement. He sympathizes greatly with Hell Ember because of this, and keeps and eye on the gardener, Emma, to make sure his daughter can make it out alive.

* He’s the bittersweet type of guy, and dislikes sour or extremely sweet flavours, favouring savoury foods. As such, he’s a fan of saltwater taffy and tarts, but avoids most other desserts, and prefers servings of Dim Sum and Yakitori that Wu Chang or Michiko sometimes make.

* His skills were only known to the other survivors when Martha needed an extra flare gun and Liam pulled it from a chest for her. Later, when Vera needed another bottle of Euphoria, he procured one from another box.

* Their looks of surprise and astonishment both made him giddy and disappointed to know that they appreciated his efforts but had formerly believed him to be useless.

* Chose the nickname ‘Lucky Guy’ as a pseudonym for the game because of a nickname he earned when he was younger.

* He survived a tragic incident having to do with a serial murderer, and soon after, suffered 2 bouts of pneumonia and a floor collapse. Having lasted all four incidents with little-to-no side effects or lasting damages, people began to note his lucky demeanour and began to keep their distance.

* Good luck always attracts bad luck as they say.

* And he’s sure now that the statement is true. If he hadn’t been as ‘lucky’ as he was, he wouldn’t have ended up at a psychopaths’ house playing a gambling game with his life bet on the line.

* He hopes that his luck carries on through the days he has left in the manor—if only he could win, then maybe all his luck could turn to neutrality.

* Maybe he could finally be normal.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

#gaming #idv #idv blog #idv x reader #identity v #identity 5 #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv lucky guy #idv leo #idv gardener #id5

[luvrgirl555]

what does leaving mean? --S.R.

an: lol more angst this is apparently all i can write. pls check out my other fics and stuff and maybe follow me and send some requests!! also i am currently writing a part 2 to illicit affairs if anyone cares

thank you for reading :)

masterlist

warnings: angst

you sat alone on the sofa.

waiting.

you hadn’t received a text from spencer yet, but since he insisted you both have location sharing on your phones, you knew he was in DC.

the case had been long, which meant it was probably draining, and he was probably tired.

you ran your hand across your face with a large yawn and just tried to think.

very suddenly you felt small kicks from the inside of your stomach and you rubbed the spot gently. you always tried to keep your stress to a minimum while pregnant, knowing that the baby could definitely feel what you feel, but you couldn’t help it.

the keys jangled outside of the door as spencer let himself in and you heard him sigh loudly.

he hadn’t noticed you yet.

he walked into the kitchen after dropping his bag at the doorway.

you didn’t have the energy to tell him to hang it up tonight.

you heard him open and shut the fridge in the kitchen, possibly looking for something, possibly just looking to be curious about what his wife and daughter had been eating while he’d been gone.

you heaved yourself off the sofa and walked into the kitchen as softly as you could and saw him brewing a pot of coffee.

“coffee?” you asked.

he looked up as you walked towards him and his eyes immediately softened while he held his arms out to you.

you gave him a hug best as you could with your belly and looked up at him.

“watcha making coffee for?” you inquired again, “it’s late.”

he pointed to a stack on the dining room table of what you assumed were case files.

“god, spence, why not just come to bed and worry about this in the morning?” you pleaded.

“i can’t, y/n, we’ve talked about this,” he replied, stubbornly. sometimes his best and worst quality.

“talked about letting your wife sleep alone for weeks at a time?”

he scoffed, taking the coffee and pouring it into one of his ungodly large cups.

“maybe if you started taking sebaticals to teach again? you could be home more..” you wandered, which made him stomp over to the dining room table and sit down without another word.

you followed him, slower, since your pregnant body couldn’t go as fast as his long, skinny legs.

“spence, i’m sure emily would approve of them,” you sat in the chair closest to him.

“no! god, we’ve been over this, the team needs me,” he snapped and you gulped.

“the team?” you remarked.

he looked up at you and you saw a small spark of anger in his eyes, something you rarely saw, and something rarely, if ever, pointed at you.

“yes, the team.”

he was being sarcastic. mocking you.

you knew he would react this way when you brought it up so you’d put it off for weeks until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“the team that got you thrown in jail? away from your wife? away from your daughter?”

his hands sounded louder than they probably were, mainly because the house was so quiet before he slammed his hands on the dining room table.

you shook your head and looked away from him.

“y/n, this is my life,” he spoke sternly.

“no, spencer, it’s not. this is your job,” you gestured to the piles of paperwork.

and as if right on cue crying was heard from a small voice upstairs.

“this is your job,” you repeated, “your life is right here. decide whether you want it or not.”

as quickly as you could stood up and half expected him to grab your hand or follow you up to your daughters bedroom but he didn’t. he didn’t follow even though he could hear your cries as you climbed to the top of the staircase.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

emma quickly stopped crying when you entered her room, but noticed that your cheeks were wet just like hers when you sat down on her bed.

“mama, why sad,” she muttered in her toddler voice, trying to sneak out of the covers to lay her head on your shoulder and try to wrap her arms around you.

“mama’s sad because you are, sweet girl,” you wiped away the wet tears from her cheeks while she tried to mimic the action for you which made your heart melt.

“emma no more sad,” the small girl gave you a toothy grin which made you return a small smile.

you helped her back under the covers and placed a kiss on her head.

“sweet dreams, baby,” you said and when you stood up she quietly muttered something.

“what is it, ems?” you asked.

“daddy home?” she asked and your heart broke. she looked so small and hidden under her blankets as she pulled them close to her face.

never wanting to lie to your daughter you said, “yeah, daddy’s home, he’s just working late,” you said and she nodded sadly, unfortunately having to understand what that meant.

“i love you, baby,” you said before closing her door completely not convinced you could keep it together much longer.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

spencer could feel the keys jangling in his hand as he unlocked the door, finally unlocking it, punching a code into the security system and locking the door again. 

he dropped his bag on the ground next to the door, something that he knew bothered you, but he told himself he would fix it the next morning.

it was late.

he walked up the stairs in a rush, taking off his coat and tie in the process and stopping at his daughters room, quietly opening the door to peek inside and fully opening it when he noticed that she wasn’t in her bed. 

his mind went to the next option that she could possibly be asleep in his bed with you but when he entered the room the shared bed was neatly made.

your suitcase was gone.

your phone, wallet and keys were gone.

emma was gone.

and you were gone. 

he decided. 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (Emma Mathers) (A/n- yes the title was inspired by Taylor Swift's Illicit Affairs)

Masterlist Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst

Clandestine Meeting

“I miss you.”

Emma looked up from the text, taken aback. Her doe eyes were wide and the words which might have previously served to put a small smile on her face simply had her pulling half of her lower lip between her teeth. Stiffening her stance, her mind went rigid and though the keypad was opened and awaiting her reply, Emma didn’t quite know what she should say. So, instead, she glanced up, trying to keep her cool as she looked across the room, meeting his gaze from where he sat at the breakfast bar, phone in hand and morning paper discarded near his half finished bowl of cereal.

Keanu’s whiskey orbs stared back at her, practically willing her to start typing a response, to hopefully admit that she felt the same. It had been almost a week since Miranda’s return, and since then, Emma had gone back to avoiding Keanu like the plague. Even being in the same room with him was too much, though, considering that over seeing the twins’ breakfast was part of her job, mornings were proving to be hardest, and by all means the only time they actually spent together. “Everything okay Em?” Using his free hand, Keanu shifted his spoon around in his ceramic bowl, acting so nonchalant that it hurt to watch. Whoever said he wasn’t a good actor had to have been a good liar.

“Yeah,” sucking in a sharp breath, she nodded stiffly, giving the text, which he’d seen her read, one final glance before locking the phone and setting it down on the granite counter. Without further ado, she carried on, getting orange juice for Matt and then cleaning up a spill Poppy had made while trying to pour more milk into her sugary, colorful cereal. “Let me help you with that,” she mumbled sweetly, hurrying over to collect the roll of paper towels and subsequently tearing off a couple blocks to sap up the fallen milk.

Still on the counter, her phone chirped again, and when she was finally finished, Emma read yet another text from Keanu, that time through the notifications, “Can I see you tonight?”

Already exasperated, Emma rolled her eyes, clenching her jaw as she hastily snatched up the cell. She hated that he was just sitting there, acting like he wasn’t engaged, trying to reel her back in despite the consequences. She hated that she actually wanted to see him anyway, even more. But what Emma hated the most was knowing that no matter what, she was already Keanu’s closeted secret. “You’re seeing me right now,” she angrily tapped the little blue send button, tossing the phone back to the cool surface, only for him to respond almost instantaneously.

“You know what I mean……” Was his reply, and when Emma took the chance at sneaking a glance at him, Emma could see that Keanu’s eyes had softened, silently pleading with her to give in. In that moment, she could slowly start to feel her resolve wavering; everything she’d worked so had to build up over the past five days or so diminished by just one look. Suddenly, she felt strange chill run through her, not as a consequence of the environment, it was actually quite warm that morning. It was actually from the memory that arose upon reminiscing on the last time she’d been alone with Keanu. That day when Miranda had come back, the way he’d touched her while they laid in bed, how his smell, as predicted, had stained her sheets and finally, how he’d come into her room that night, caressing her cheek and kissing her forehead as if he cared. Emma knew that she shouldn’t have been falling for it; a relationship with Keanu was fruitless, he couldn’t offer her anything but private pleasures and then insurmountable hurt. Still, she wanted it, she wanted him.

Clutching the phone tightly, Emma quickly tried to blink away burning tears, staring at the words on the bright screen. “I’m sorry,” another one came in, followed up with, “Please, I promise we can talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Emma’s fingers worked quickly, and it hurt her to type those words while knowing that there was so much she wanted to say.

Again, before she could set it down, Keanu sent, “Don’t say that. I don’t want to end things this way. Just let me fix this.”

“How?” Emma was about to hit send again, when, in a flurry of floral silk, Miranda sauntered into the room, immediately going to wrap her arms around Keanu’s broad shoulders. He stiffened visibly, hurriedly dropping his phone face down, and Emma was left to silently watch the scene unfold, taking note of the way Miranda met her eyes briefly before laying a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning darling,” she sung near his ear, unable to bear anymore of it, Emma swallowed her hurt and get back to tidying the kitchen and tending to the children. Though, that didn’t quite stop her from listening, “I can’t believe you left me in bed, all alone.”

Chuckling softly, Keanu took a minute before coming up with a response, “You know I like to get an early start. Did you sleep well?”

“Just fine,” Miranda hummed, sashaying over to the refrigerator and scanning its contents until she spotted the overly expensive, extremely exotic, organic creamer that she usually took with her coffee. “Emily,” she turned to Emma, who by then, had long grown tired of trying to correct her, “Why don’t you get my mug and pour me some coffee?"

Miranda, as Emma had come to learn, had the oddest sense of humor and seemed to get off on ‘accidently’ treating her like a maid. And sometimes, like her very own lady in waiting. “Sure,” Emma managed through gritted teeth, all but snatching the handcrafted mug off a shelf in the cabinet and then half filling it with scalding black liquid. “Anything else?” The ordinarily polite quip was actually meant as a petty jab, though Miranda didn’t seem to get that.

“There is actually,” stirring in some of the creamer, not even looking Emma’s way, “Do you think could whip me up an egg white omelet?”

That time, before Emma could speak, Keanu was interjecting, “Mandy,” he tried to sound light and teasing, the edge of annoyance kept at bay, “You know that Em isn’t a maid. Besides, the tutors are coming soon and she has to get the kids ready.”

“Well I’m sure you can do that Keke, I have to finish prepping for my meeting with the wedding planner and I can’t do that on an empty stomach,” pouting dramatically, Miranda summoned up her best puppy eyes for Keanu, “Please darling? For the sake of our wedding?”

“I…..” Keanu stuttered, and Emma hoped with everything in her that he wouldn’t feed her to the lion, but of course, she couldn’t be so lucky, “Why not?” Defeated, Emma’s sigh was soft, and before she knew it, Keanu was rounding up Matt and Poppy and flashing her sympathetic look before herding them towards the hallway after announcing that it was bath time.

She waited until Keanu was gone, and from the minute Keanu was out of earshot, Miranda began the inescapable torture. She cared very little for those who she proudly referred to as help, though Miranda did like hearing herself talk enough to ramble on to anything with ears. “I don’t know if Keanu’s mentioned it,” she carried on, popping a grape from the bowl in the fridge into her mouth, “But we’ve decided on a winter wedding in New York. We’re doing it at the Weylin on New Year’s Eve.”

“That’s……” Emma’s voice was soft and it took everything in her to not break down at the thought of Keanu marrying someone else. Worst yet, it was so close, just over a month and a half away. “That’s nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Emma was in the process of gathering the egg whites, expertly separating them from the yolks like her mother had taught her so long ago. “It’s going to be a grand affair,” she explained exuberantly, “And I’ve got a designer from Dior working on a custom dress. I’m already in talks with a couple magazines, we’re going to cover the entire thing.”

Furrowing her brows, Emma slowed down as she moved on to chopping the seasonings. A publicized wedding? That didn’t sound much like Keanu at all; he was notoriously private and hated the press getting in on his life. It was why he’d avoided social media and had pitched out thousands for Matt and Poppy to be homeschooled. “Are you sure Keanu will like that?” Emma’s tentative probe was soft and unsteady and she knew very well that it wasn’t her place to ask.

“Well why wouldn’t he?” Miranda sank into a seat at the kitchen table, nearest to the window, where the warm light was filtering in and washing to room with a heat contrasted perfectly by the low setting of the air conditioner, “The publicity will be great for him too. God knows he needs it sometimes, if he didn’t work so much, there wouldn’t be anything for anyone to write about.”

“I think that’s the point,” foolishly, Emma countered, “I mean, he does hate having his life all over the media, he likes privacy. Right?”

“Oh God,” she burst out laughing, rolling her eyes, “You’re a naïve little thing aren’t you, Emily? Every celebrity plays that little game. But in our world, no matter what you do, everyone is gonna know everything about you, and it sells. And as long as it sells, who gives a fuck about privacy?”

Fumbling for words, Emma slid the now finished omelet onto a pristine white plate, “I’m sure its not possible to know everything.” The conversation was starting to make her uncomfortable, and Emma desperately wanted an out.

“Of course it is,” Miranda cackled loudly, “This is Hollywood dear, there are eyes everywhere.” Emma had just set the plate and cutlery down in front of Miranda, and was already, leaving the kitchen hoping to get back to cleaning up later that morning when the older woman added, just as she was at the mouth of the long corridor, “Just remember that Emily, every secret, every nose job, every hidden pregnancy, every affair…..it always gets out, sooner or later.”

She paused for a minute at the mere mention of the word ‘affair,’ though, Emma didn’t want to have some kind of teary episode right there in front of Keanu’s wretched fiancée, picking up a quick pace not long after. She had to get to her room before the heat had completely risen to her face and the tears had inevitably started falling, she couldn’t be caught like that without reasonable explanation. Emma was almost there, her door was straight ahead after she’d climbed the stairs, and her head was down as she toyed anxiously with the knot of the robe when someone grabbed her arm, effectively startling her. “Hey,” Keanu side stepped in front of her, looking around to make sure that they were truly alone. “I was hoping to get you alone.”

“Uhh….” Blinking away the shock she’d left the kitchen with, Emma tried to act normal, ignoring the rapid beating of her heart, “I um…..what do you want?”

“To see you, alone. Just the two of us,” before Emma could object, Keanu cut her off, “I know you’ve been avoiding me, and definitely I deserve the cold shoulder. But I have something planned, just for the two of us.”

“Ke-” Torn, Emma half sobbed, knowing that she badly wanted some time alone with him but also knowing that with Miranda back it would be a risk.

“I know,” he sighed, “But I miss you, so much baby,” he leaned in, stealing kiss which she readily reciprocated, “I just want to be with you,” he peered down the stairs, ensuring that Miranda wasn’t nearby, his baritone dropping an octave as Keanu placed a hand on her waist, stepping closer, “I know you’re mad at me, but don’t you miss me too sweetheart?”

“I’m not mad at you, and I do miss you” Emma laid a gentle hand on Keanu’s shoulder, a couple rogue tears slipping past her lashes, “But this is wrong, you know that.”

“I do,” he whispered, bending to press his forehead to hers, “But I can’t help it, you’re all I think about sometimes,” swallowing thickly, Keanu continued, “I’ve put something together and my sister has been asking for the kids for a while now. Miranda is gonna be out with her girlfriends tonight, say you’ll come with me.”

Licking her lips, Emma ignored the voice in her head that urged that it was a bad idea, “Where?”

“Its a surprise,” Keanu smiled faintly, catching her lips in a brief peck, “But I promise you’ll like it. Just dress in jeans, and your leather jacket cause we’re taking the bike. Okay?”

Hesitating, Emma eventually nodded, “Okay,” she sealed with a kiss, reluctantly untangling from him, walking off with a backwards glance, her tormented gaze meeting his hopeful one last time.

“Ke….” Emma emitted soft, breathy, delighted giggles that seemed to get lost the minute it was cast out in the atmosphere. The lights were turned down low and past the clear, glass double doors, a sleek, modern fireplace was lit on the porch that jutted out over the edge of the cliff, overlooking the darkened ocean. The heels of her boots thudded softly on the rich hardwood as Emma stepped further into the primarily glass abode. The high ceilings, supported by thick fiberglass beams, matched the floors when she looked up in awe, and eventually, when she reached the open doors leading to the cool outside, where a salty breeze blew her freed tresses, Emma was almost at a total loss for words, “This is……”

A wide, proud smile split his lips. Keanu was glad she liked it, he’d pulled a lot of strings to get them that place for a few hours. It was far off from the lively city and the thick surrounding foliage should have protected them from being discovered by any prying eyes. For a few precious hours, they could be free. Slowly, he approached Emma where she stood, grasping the cool railing, mouth still agape as she looked forward. Snaking his arms around her waist and pressing his chest against her back, he laid a kiss no the side of her head. It was so perfect, it always was; being with her.

Everything faded when she was in his arms; the chill of the night air, the glow from around the pool and the quiet crackle of the fireplace. When they were alone together, nothing mattered but Emma. Keanu had never felt that way about anyone, not even Diana, the mother of his children, the woman who ran from their family and broke his heart. He’d tried making it work with her for as long as they could, but in the end, she wouldn’t have married him, much less stick around and raise two children. Keanu had almost given up on finding someone, someone who’d love Matt and Poppy the way he did, be the mother they deserved and the woman he’d spent the rest of his life with. Even when he'd met Miranda, there hadn’t been much hope left, but he was willing to make it work. Though, lately, Keanu had taken to wondering if the woman right there in his arms was actually the one he’d been waiting for. She’d taken his breath away with her unmatched beauty and now, with each passing day, he was giving a little more of his heart away to Emma. It wouldn’t be long till she’d own the part he’d reserved for someone special. She was special, “Absolutely stunning."

When Emma turned slightly in his embrace, she found that Keanu was looking right at her, chuckling musically when he bent and nuzzled her cheek and tightening his hug so she couldn't escape his affections. "Are you talking about the view or something else?"

Peppering her cheek with kisses, his rough salt and pepper beard grazing her satiny skin, Keanu hummed, "Maybe someone else….." Finally, Emma spun so they were chest to chest, her arms winding around his neck, tangled her fingers in the ends of his hair, disheveled from wearing his helmet, "You look so beautiful tonight," his eyes softened, gaze clouded over with something uncertain though unwavering, "You're always so beautiful," Keanu leaned down, capturing her lips.

He tasted like tobacco and something uniquely him, the same thing she thought about when falling asleep at night. From the minute they’d first kissed, that night in Paris, tension practically shoving them into each other’s arms, Emma thought that his lips seemed like they were meant to lock with hers; Keanu always knew exactly what she needed.

Tilting her head, Emma let herself melt against him, submitting to the comfort of his warmth and the security of his kiss. Even if everything else was wrong in their lives, even if everyone would inevitably get hurt, at least they had that. Kisses that completed them, even if just for a little while.

A little while.

One day they’d have to go back to living without each other. Inhaling deeply, filling her lungs with the kind of fresh air that was usually absent in the city, Emma pulled away, her hands pressing against Keanu’s chest in unspoken protest, and in an attempt to keep her from walking away, he loosely circled her wrists, “What?” Knitting his brows, he frowned deeply, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” her voice broke unexpectedly, her eyes shining, bright with unshed tears, “Not really, its just…..” The words wouldn't come, at least not the ones that would help Emma elucidate exactly what she wanted Keanu to know. She didn’t want to ruin their one perfect night, but she didn’t want it to be their only perfect night. Emma wanted more, more than she might ever get with him, “You just……you do everything right, you know?” Shaking her head sorrowfully, she sniffled, “Almost everything.”

Casting his head towards their feet, Keanu nodded faintly, his chuckle dry and humorless, “Yeah,” he huffed, “I know what you mean.” Thinking on the matter for a moment, Keanu knew that his heart had been begging him to do the right thing, be the man that they both needed, but he simply couldn’t. Maybe if he didn’t have kids, or were just a few years younger. There were so many ‘maybe’s. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to hug her.

“You always say that,” Emma slunk out from between Keanu and the guard rail, strolling along the balcony, trying to put some space between them so she could think properly, “But nothing changes.”

“I’m trying,” Keanu reasoned.

“Are you?” When Emma turned towards him, some of her hair whipped against her flushed cheeks, “Cause it feels like you’re just saying that to get me to shut up about the real problem.” Scoffing, she swiped at her eyes, “What are we doing Keanu?”

His lips quivered, an explanation absent. There was nothing he could say to fix it, he knew that, but he wanted to, he needed to. Keanu needed her. He knew he’d been playing childish games with Emma, sneaking around and stealing moments. He was too old for it to make sense, and Emma deserved to be more than his shadowed lover. “We’re……” He trailed off, wishing things were easier.

“You know what it feels like?” Folding her arms, Emma ignored the new dryness in her throat, opting not to move when Keanu approached her, racing out to lay a hand on her hip, probably worried that she was about to end things between them.

Licking his lips, Keanu’s gaze flickered to hers and he swore he already knew what she was going to say. He knew because he felt it too, “What?”

Emitting a frustrated sigh, exasperation fueled by the complexity of their lives and the knowledge that things were bound to stay the same unless he changed them. Emma, despite her better senses, raised her hand to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb along the corner of his lips, as she tilted her head to the side, regarding him with obvious pain in her eyes, “It feels like I’m falling in love with you even though I shouldn’t.”

Keanu’s arm slid around to her lower back, urging Emma closer, pecking her forehead, “I’m falling in love with you too,” he whispered, muffled by her skin.

Relived by his admission, Emma relented to holding Keanu in a tight hug, pressing her ear over his steady heartbeat. They stayed like that for a while, faces turned towards the vast ocean beyond the mountain, the water darkened, only defined by the rippling glow; the distance so undefined that it was easy to liken it to themselves. An unbound beauty that may have remained largely unexplored. “Come on,” Emma eventually pulled away, grabbing Keanu’s hands so they wouldn’t be completely separated, “Let’s not waste the rest of our night,” she mustered up a small smile, one that was returned by Keanu who, like her, still seemed troubled, but was willing to put it past them, just they could make the most of their stolen moments.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea @nonsensicalobsessions

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x ofc #behind closed doors #nanny au #keanu reeves fanfiction #ff

[wistfulcynic]

bound by sand and salt and sea

This is @courtorderedcake​‘s fault. I was all set to write something completely different (poor, lonely WIPs) and then she sent me this: 

So now we have selkie!Emma and Killian who is... well, you’ll see. 

AO3

—

bound by sand and salt and sea: 

It wasn’t as though he fixated on the blonde from the very moment she entered the restaurant, draped in a thick fur stole of the same captivating pale gold as her hair. Not really. It was just that the table she took was next to his, and the angle of her chair afforded him a perfect view of her—crossing her long legs gracefully as she sat, fingertips brushing along her collarbone as she spoke, peering up at her date from beneath long lashes and smiling at him with soft lips painted a deep berry red. 

Something about that smile had Killian Jones wanting more. 

“Real fur,” sniffed his own date. Arianne? Emily? Ariel? Yes, that was it. Ariel. “Not very politically correct.” Killian nodded absently. She seemed lovely, this Ariel, but she did a lot of talking, and he was struggling a bit to keep up. Even before any stunning blondes had entered the picture.  

“Hmmm,” he replied with another glance at her, a more overt one this time since Ariel was looking too. His gaze lingered and he felt his throat go dry. “Perhaps it’s a family heirloom.” 

“Maybe,” said Ariel. “Still.” 

Just then the blonde, without so much as a flicker of an eyelash to indicate her intent, whipped a pair of handcuffs from out of absolutely nowhere and snapped them smartly on the wrists of her ‘date,’ while two men dressed in the kind of suits that only police detectives ever wear stood up and moved in to take him into custody. The woman’s lips curled in an entirely different sort of smile as she watched them go, one Killian would swear he felt echo in his soul. 

In all the confusion the woman’s fur, still draped across her shoulders despite the warmth of the room, had fallen to the floor. Without a thought, Killian leaned forward and picked it up. 

“I believe you dropped this,” he said, in the smoothest voice his parched throat could manage. 

She turned with a laugh that died on her lips as her eyes met his. Met and locked and widened. Green eyes, was all Killian could think. Shimmering sea-green like the deeps of Tahitian waters, exactly the colour of... his thoughts grew muddled and he gave his head a shake... her cheeks flushed pink and then she smiled... a soft smile this time, slightly awed... he’d give anything, he thought, to learn each one of her smiles... 

“Thank you,” she whispered, taking the fur. Her fingers brushed against his. “I’m Emma.” 

“Killian,” he replied, his voice hoarse. 

“Killian,” she repeated. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

He glanced back at Ariel. It would be a terrible thing to do, the worst he’d done in ages. Definitely a top ten of all time despite his countless years of extremely poor decision-making. He found he didn’t care. 

Ariel gave a shrug. On your head be it, the gesture seemed to say. 

Killian turned back to Emma. “Where did you have in mind?” 

—

The next morning Killian awoke to bright sunlight shining in his eyes and gilding Emma’s hair where it curled against her skin. He raked his fingers through it and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled. 

“Good morning,” she said. 

“Good morning,” he replied, kissing her smile as he trailed his fingers down her body, over the contours of breast and waist and thigh. 

She hummed her pleasure into the kiss but when he moved to deepen it placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Killian,” she said softly, “before we… again I mean... there’s something I have to tell you.” 

“I find when a woman says that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation,” he quipped, still smiling despite her solemn words. “Can’t it wait, love?” 

“Not really, no. I should have told you last night, but... well...” 

“Aye, I remember.” He smirked. “I could hardly forget.” 

She laughed and lightly smacked his chest. “I’m trying to be serious here!” 

“Very well, darling.” Killian settled back into the pillows. “What is it?” 

She bit her lip and he fought not to get distracted by it. “It’s not a big thing, not really,” she said. “I mean it is kind of important, but I hope you don’t—I mean I hope you can—” She broke off helplessly and he gave her an encouraging nod. 

“I’m a selkie,” she blurted, then released a heavy breath.  

He sat bolt upright. “What?” 

“Ah.” She twisted her hands nervously. “You see, selkies are—” 

“I know what bloody selkies are, I’m a—er, I work on the sea.” Killian raked a hand through his hair. “But you—but how—” 

Real fur, he thought. He should have bloody known. 

He took a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm. “How are you on land?” he asked. “And free?” 

“My pelt was taken when I was very young,” she explained. “The man who took it—I thought I loved him, so I let him... I went willingly with him. He was a liar and a thief, I learned that later, but by the time I did it was too late. My pelt was his, and—I think you know what that means.” 

“I do,” growled Killian. 

“When he died I got it back,” Emma continued, “but though I felt called to the sea I chose to stay on land. I couldn’t go, knowing there were men like that here, walking free. I couldn’t just leave, not when there was something I could do to help. So now I work with the police to catch criminals, men like the one who used me.” Her hands were fisted tight in her lap and Killian covered them with his. She twined their fingers together with a grateful smile. “I will go back,” she said. “Someday. I know I will, I have to, but it’s just never felt right…” 

“He didn’t return your pelt,” said Killian gently. “Not truly. He just died, and you got it back by default. You never had any closure with him.” 

She nodded. “I think that’s it,” she whispered. “My time here felt unfinished. But then last night… you gave it back to me. My pelt is mine again, and you and I”—she cast him a quick glance from beneath her lashes—”are bound.” 

“Bound?” 

“Bound together.” She shrugged a delicate shoulder. “Look, I don’t make the rules.” 

It occurred to Killian that while she might not make the rules she was interpreting this one rather loosely. “I only picked your pelt up off the floor,” he pointed out. “It’s not like I was the one who stole it from you—” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Emma made a decisive slicing motion of her hand through the air. “It’s done now. I can feel the binding magic. Can’t you?” 

He could. Killian stared at her helplessly, alarmed by how not alarmed he felt. “We should probably get married,” he heard himself say. “The human way, you know.” 

Emma beamed, bright and glorious—a new smile to add to his collection. “I’d like that very much,” she said.

—

They were married on the beach at sunset, in a simple ceremony with none in attendance but the old sea captain who performed the rites and one witness for each of them. Killian’s was Ariel—a lovely woman, he’d always said so, and a surprisingly good sport about the whole thing. Especially after being introduced to Eric—Emma’s cousin and the second witness. 

“A selkie,” said Ariel as they danced together after the ceremony, with a small shake of her head and a speculative glance at Eric. “I should have known.” 

“Likely we both should have known,” agreed Killian. “And yet.”  

“Are you okay with it?” she asked. “Truly?”  

“I suppose I’ll have to be. I returned her pelt, after all.” 

Ariel frowned. “I’m not sure that’s how it works—” 

Killian made a decisive slashing motion through the air with his hand. “It’s done,” he said. “We don’t make the rules. And anyway, we’re married now.” 

He’d married Emma with a deep-sea pearl, darkly iridescent and set in raw copper. It gleamed on her finger, lit by firelight, and he smiled. 

“Yes,” Ariel agreed. “So you are.”

—

“Let’s go for a swim,” said Emma as they sat curled together on a rock after the others had gone. She slipped from his embrace and reached for her pelt. “A proper one.” 

Killian toyed with the slender bracelet on his wrist. It was carved of ormer and set with black pearls and it shone in the moonlight. 

“A proper one,” he repeated, then slid the bracelet off. 

—

The sea was calm that night, its gentle waves broken only once—by the sleek arc of a golden selkie and the green glimmer of a merman’s tail. They flashed bright in the moonlight, circling each other, then dove deep and swam away and the sea was calm again. 

—

@spartanguard​ I have a feeling this might be right up your street. Also, the usual suspects. @thisonesatellite​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @katie-dub​ @mariakov81​ @stahlop​ @optomisticgirl​ @shireness-says​ @kmomof4​ @teamhook​  @captain-emmajones

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #prompt fic #selkie!Emma #merman!Killian #creature au #magic au #ficlets #profdanglaisstuff #bound by sand and salt and sea

[literarypilgrim]

Read Like a Gilmore

All 339 Books Referenced In “Gilmore Girls” 

Not my original list, but thought it’d be fun to go through and see which one’s I’ve actually read :P If it’s in bold, I’ve got it, and if it’s struck through, I’ve read it. I’ve put a ‘read more’ because it ended up being an insanely long post, and I’m now very sad at how many of these I haven’t read. (I’ve spaced them into groups of ten to make it easier to read)

1. 1984 by George Orwell  2. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain 3. Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll 4. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon 5. An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser 6. Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt 7. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy 8. The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank 9. The Archidamian War by Donald Kagan 10. The Art of Fiction by Henry James 

11. The Art of War by Sun Tzu 12. As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner 13. Atonement by Ian McEwan 14. Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy 15. The Awakening by Kate Chopin 16. Babe by Dick King-Smith 17. Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women by Susan Faludi 18. Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie 19. Bel Canto by Ann Patchett 20. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath 21. Beloved by Toni Morrison 22. Beowulf: A New Verse Translation by Seamus Heaney 23. The Bhagava Gita 24. The Bielski Brothers: The True Story of Three Men Who Defied the Nazis, Built a Village in the Forest, and Saved 1,200 Jews by Peter Duffy 25. Bitch in Praise of Difficult Women by Elizabeth Wurtzel 26. A Bolt from the Blue and Other Essays by Mary McCarthy 27. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley 28. Brick Lane by Monica Ali 29. Bridgadoon by Alan Jay Lerner 30. Candide by Voltaire 31. The Canterbury Tales by Chaucer 32. Carrie by Stephen King 33. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller 34. The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger 35. Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White 36. The Children’s Hour by Lillian Hellman 37. Christine by Stephen King 38. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens 39. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess 40. The Code of the Woosters by P.G. Wodehouse    41. The Collected Stories by Eudora Welty 42. A Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare 43. Complete Novels by Dawn Powell 44. The Complete Poems by Anne Sexton 45. Complete Stories by Dorothy Parker 46. A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole 47. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas 48. Cousin Bette by Honore de Balzac 49. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky 50. The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber    51. The Crucible by Arthur Miller 52. Cujo by Stephen King 53. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon 54. Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende 55. David and Lisa by Dr Theodore Issac Rubin M.D 56. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens 57. The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown 58. Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol 59. Demons by Fyodor Dostoyevsky 60. Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller 61. Deenie by Judy Blume 62. The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America by Erik Larson 63. The Dirt: Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band by Tommy Lee, Vince Neil, Mick Mars and Nikki Sixx 64. The Divine Comedy by Dante 65. The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells 66. Don Quixote by Cervantes 67. Driving Miss Daisy by Alfred Uhrv 68. Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson 69. Edgar Allan Poe: Complete Tales & Poems by Edgar Allan Poe 70. Eleanor Roosevelt by Blanche Wiesen Cook 71. The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe 72. Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters by Mark Dunn  73. Eloise by Kay Thompson 74. Emily the Strange by Roger Reger 75. Emma by Jane Austen 76. Empire Falls by Richard Russo 77. Encyclopedia Brown: Boy Detective by Donald J. Sobol 78. Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton 79. Ethics by Spinoza 80. Europe through the Back Door, 2003 by Rick Steves

81. Eva Luna by Isabel Allende 82. Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer 83. Extravagance by Gary Krist 84. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury 85. Fahrenheit 9/11 by Michael Moore 86. The Fall of the Athenian Empire by Donald Kagan 87. Fat Land: How Americans Became the Fattest People in the World by Greg Critser 88. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson 89. The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien 90. Fiddler on the Roof by Joseph Stein 91. The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom 92. Finnegan’s Wake by James Joyce 93. Fletch by Gregory McDonald 94. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes 95. The Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem 96. The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand 97. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley 98. Franny and Zooey by J. D. Salinger 99. Freaky Friday by Mary Rodgers 100. Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut 101. Gender Trouble by Judith Butler 102. George W. Bushism: The Slate Book of the Accidental Wit and Wisdom of our 43rd President by Jacob Weisberg 103. Gidget by Fredrick Kohner 104. Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen 105. The Gnostic Gospels by Elaine Pagels 106. The Godfather: Book 1 by Mario Puzo 107. The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy  108. Goldilocks and the Three Bears by Alvin Granowsky  109. Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell  110. The Good Soldier by Ford Maddox Ford 

111. The Gospel According to Judy Bloom 112. The Graduate by Charles Webb 113. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck 114. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald 115. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens 116. The Group by Mary McCarthy 117. Hamlet by William Shakespeare 118. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling 119. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J. K. Rowling 120. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers    121. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad 122. Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders by Vincent Bugliosi and Curt Gentry 123. Henry IV, part I by William Shakespeare 124. Henry IV, part II by William Shakespeare 125. Henry V by William Shakespeare 126. High Fidelity by Nick Hornby 127. The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon 128. Holidays on Ice: Stories by David Sedaris 129. The Holy Barbarians by Lawrence Lipton 130. House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III    131. The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende 132. How to Breathe Underwater by Julie Orringer 133. How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss  134. How the Light Gets In by M. J. Hyland  135. Howl by Allen Ginsberg  136. The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo  137. The Iliad by Homer 138. I’m With the Band by Pamela des Barres  139. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote  140. Inferno by Dante 

141. Inherit the Wind by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee 142. Iron Weed by William J. Kennedy 143. It Takes a Village by Hillary Rodham Clinton 144. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte 145. The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan 146. Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare 147. The Jumping Frog by Mark Twain 148. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair 149. Just a Couple of Days by Tony Vigorito 150. The Kitchen Boy: A Novel of the Last Tsar by Robert Alexander 151. Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly by Anthony Bourdain 152. The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini 153. Lady Chatterleys’ Lover by D. H. Lawrence 154. The Last Empire: Essays 1992-2000 by Gore Vidal 155. Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman 156. The Legend of Bagger Vance by Steven Pressfield 157. Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis 158. Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke 159. Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them by Al Franken  160. Life of Pi by Yann Martel 

161. Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens 162. The Little Locksmith by Katharine Butler Hathaway 163. The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Andersen 164. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott 165. Living History by Hillary Rodham Clinton 166. Lord of the Flies by William Golding 167. The Lottery: And Other Stories by Shirley Jackson 168. The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold 169. The Love Story by Erich Segal 170. Macbeth by William Shakespeare 171. Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert 172. The Manticore by Robertson Davies 173. Marathon Man by William Goldman 174. The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov 175. Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter by Simone de Beauvoir 176. Memoirs of General W. T. Sherman by William Tecumseh Sherman 177. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris 178. The Meaning of Consuelo by Judith Ortiz Cofer 179. Mencken’s Chrestomathy by H. R. Mencken 180. The Merry Wives of Windsor by William Shakespeare 181. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka 182. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides 183. The Miracle Worker by William Gibson 184. Moby Dick by Herman Melville 185. The Mojo Collection: The Ultimate Music Companion by Jim Irvin  186. Moliere: A Biography by Hobart Chatfield Taylor  187. A Monetary History of the United States by Milton Friedman  188. Monsieur Proust by Celeste Albaret  189. A Month Of Sundays: Searching For The Spirit And My Sister by Julie Mars 190. A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway 

191. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf 192. Mutiny on the Bounty by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall 193. My Lai 4: A Report on the Massacre and It’s Aftermath by Seymour M. Hersh 194. My Life as Author and Editor by H. R. Mencken 195. My Life in Orange: Growing Up with the Guru by Tim Guest 196. Myra Waldo’s Travel and Motoring Guide to Europe, 1978 by Myra Waldo 197. My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult 198. The Naked and the Dead by Norman Mailer 199. The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco 200. The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri 201. The Nanny Diaries by Emma McLaughlin 202. Nervous System: Or, Losing My Mind in Literature by Jan Lars Jensen 203. New Poems of Emily Dickinson by Emily Dickinson 204. The New Way Things Work by David Macaulay 205. Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich 206. Night by Elie Wiesel 207. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen 208. The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism by William E. Cain, Laurie A. Finke, Barbara E. Johnson, John P. McGowan 209. Novels 1930-1942: Dance Night/Come Back to Sorrento, Turn, Magic Wheel/Angels on Toast/A Time to be Born by Dawn Powell 210. Notes of a Dirty Old Man by Charles Bukowski

211. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck (will NEVER read again) 212. Old School by Tobias Wolff 213. On the Road by Jack Kerouac 214. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey 215. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez 216. The Opposite of Fate: Memories of a Writing Life by Amy Tan 217. Oracle Night by Paul Auster 218. Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood 219. Othello by Shakespeare 220. Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens 221. The Outbreak of the Peloponnesian War by Donald Kagan 222. Out of Africa by Isac Dineson 223. The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton 224. A Passage to India by E.M. Forster 225. The Peace of Nicias and the Sicilian Expedition by Donald Kagan 226. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky 227. Peyton Place by Grace Metalious 228. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde 229. Pigs at the Trough by Arianna Huffington 230. Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi 231. Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain 232. The Polysyllabic Spree by Nick Hornby 233. The Portable Dorothy Parker by Dorothy Parker 234. The Portable Nietzche by Fredrich Nietzche 235. The Price of Loyalty: George W. Bush, the White House, and the Education of Paul O’Neill by Ron Suskind 236. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen 237. Property by Valerie Martin 238. Pushkin: A Biography by T. J. Binyon  239. Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw  240. Quattrocento by James Mckean 

241. A Quiet Storm by Rachel Howzell Hall 242. Rapunzel by Grimm Brothers 243. The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe 244. The Razor’s Edge by W. Somerset Maugham 245. Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books by Azar Nafisi 246. Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier 247. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm by Kate Douglas Wiggin 248. The Red Tent by Anita Diamant 249. Rescuing Patty Hearst: Memories From a Decade Gone Mad by Virginia Holman 250. The Return of the King by J. R. R. Tolkien 251. R Is for Ricochet by Sue Grafton 252. Rita Hayworth by Stephen King 253. Robert’s Rules of Order by Henry Robert 254. Roman Holiday by Edith Wharton 255. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare 256. A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf 257. A Room with a View by E. M. Forster 258. Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin 259. The Rough Guide to Europe, 2003 Edition 260. Sacred Time by Ursula Hegi 261. Sanctuary by William Faulkner 262. Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay by Nancy Milford 263. Say Goodbye to Daisy Miller by Henry James 264. The Scarecrow of Oz by Frank L. Baum 265. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne  266. Seabiscuit: An American Legend by Laura Hillenbrand  267. The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir  268. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd  269. Secrets of the Flesh: A Life of Colette by Judith Thurman  270. Selected Hotels of Europe 

271. Selected Letters of Dawn Powell: 1913-1965 by Dawn Powell 272. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen 273. A Separate Peace by John Knowles 274. Several Biographies of Winston Churchill 275. Sexus by Henry Miller 276. The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon 277. Shane by Jack Shaefer 278. The Shining by Stephen King 279. Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse 280. S Is for Silence by Sue Grafton 281. Slaughter-house Five by Kurt Vonnegut 282. Small Island by Andrea Levy 283. Snows of Kilimanjaro by Ernest Hemingway 284. Snow White and Rose Red by Grimm Brothers 285. Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy: Lord and Peasant in the Making of the Modern World by Barrington Moore 286. The Song of Names by Norman Lebrecht 287. Song of the Simple Truth: The Complete Poems of Julia de Burgos by Julia de Burgos 288. The Song Reader by Lisa Tucker 289. Songbook by Nick Hornby 290. The Sonnets by William Shakespeare 291. Sonnets from the Portuegese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning 292. Sophie’s Choice by William Styron  293. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner  294. Speak, Memory by Vladimir Nabokov 295. Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach  296. The Story of My Life by Helen Keller  297. A Streetcar Named Desiree by Tennessee Williams  298. Stuart Little by E. B. White  299. Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway  300. Swann’s Way by Marcel Proust 

301. Swimming with Giants: My Encounters with Whales, Dolphins and Seals by Anne Collett 302. Sybil by Flora Rheta Schreiber 303. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens 304. Tender Is The Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald 305. Term of Endearment by Larry McMurtry 306. Time and Again by Jack Finney 307. The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger 308. To Have and Have Not by Ernest Hemingway 309. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee 310. The Tragedy of Richard III by William Shakespeare    311. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith 312. The Trial by Franz Kafka 313. The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters by Elisabeth Robinson 314. Truth & Beauty: A Friendship by Ann Patchett 315. Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom 316. Ulysses by James Joyce 317. The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath 1950-1962 by Sylvia Plath 318. Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe 319. Unless by Carol Shields  320. Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann 

321. The Vanishing Newspaper by Philip Meyers 322. Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray 323. Velvet Underground’s The Velvet Underground and Nico (Thirty Three and a Third series) by Joe Harvard 324. The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides 325. Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett 326. Walden by Henry David Thoreau 327. Walt Disney’s Bambi by Felix Salten 328. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy 329. We Owe You Nothing – Punk Planet: The Collected Interviews edited by Daniel Sinker 330. What Colour is Your Parachute? 2005 by Richard Nelson Bolles 331. What Happened to Baby Jane by Henry Farrell 332. When the Emperor Was Divine by Julie Otsuka 333. Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson 334. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf by Edward Albee 335. Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire 336. The Wizard of Oz by Frank L. Baum 337. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte 338. The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings 339. The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

#books in Gilmore Girls #reading list #booklr #have you read?

[chaoshaswon]

Wasteland, Baby Chapter Six

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The clock struck midnight and Maddie sighed, throwing her head back against the wall. 

It had been an exceptionally long day. And all she wanted, more than her next breath, was to find Michael. To have him wrap her up in his arms and just hold her until everything disappeared.

In the moments they were alone, the world almost seemed good again. Which meant every minute that passed without him suddenly stretched on and on.

She hadn't been able to see him as much during the day. Between Venable and the others, she was kept busy.

Still, she had woken up with a large reminder of his presence. Mallory had gasped when Maddie sat up and pushed her back down until Emma and Jane had left.

"What the fuck was that about?" Maddie asked when they were gone.

"Is Langdon a vampire?" Mallory had snarked. "Because it looks like he chewed up your entire neck!"

"Shit!" She'd rushed to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Sure enough, the base of her neck was purple and blotchy.

"Good night?" Mal had asked with a wink and Maddie had never been more thankful for the high collars on their uniform.

And while she was annoyed at him for being so obvious and leaving physical reminders, she got a perverse little pleasure looking at it every time she was in a bathroom.

Especially since she only was able to see Michael, not in passing, once. And, even then, their encounter was hurried.

She arrived at the kitchen first thing in the morning for the daily assignments. The Fist informed them all of where they were going. Maddie had winced when she was informed that Coco had asked for her specifically. In fact, she’d been so caught up in her own dread that she nearly missed the Fist informing them that no one would need to tend to Evie, Emily, or Tim. When Eric had asked why, the Fist had smirked. 

"Mrs. Gallant passed away in her sleep last night. And Emily and Tim will soon be joining her in the hereafter. A reminder for all of you to follow the rules of this institution to the letter."

Maddie easily read between the lines. 

Em and Tim had never been as subtle as they'd like to believe. It had felt like a matter of time before they were caught but then, knowing what she did, Maddie was filled with dread. 

When she left, Maddie found Mallory in the corner. "I need you to cover for me."

"What?"

"Please, Mal! Fifteen minutes tops."

The surprise on Mallory’s face had vanished and she had nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Go.”

Maddie had rushed through the halls, careful not to be seen as she made her way to Michael’s quarters. She hadn’t even bothered to knock as she pushed it open and ran into his temporary home.

She’d found him at his kitchen table, lazily typing on his laptop while eating a piece of toast. He was dressed to distraction in a pair of trousers and nothing else, leaving her momentarily tongue-tied and remembering every moment of their time together as well as the promise of what was to come.

He had grinned as she flew through his doorway. “Good morning, Madeline. Coffee?”

She’d managed to shake herself from her stupor to inform him, “Venable is going to kill Emily and Tim.”

“How interesting. Why?”

His cavalier tone made her want to shake him.

“She caught them having sex. You have to stop her!”

Michael had only blinked at her, gesturing vaguely with his half-eaten toast. “But I’m eating.”

She’d grit her teeth in frustration. “Michael. Please.” And that seemed to work. For a man who held himself in such high esteem that he looked at nearly everyone else as vermin, it amazed her how well a please worked.

A nagging part of her said it had little to do with the manners and more to do with who was doing the asking but she wasn't quite able to process that in the allotted time so she filed it away for later.

Michael had sighed dramatically and abandoned his breakfast to dress, handing her his coffee and insisting she drink it if he couldn’t. It was hard to argue with such sound reason so she had.

When he came back out of his room, he was dressed. Michael had grabbed her and kissed her thoroughly before asking, “Do I really have to stop her? I’d much rather stay here and pick up where we left off…”

After she assured him that yes, he did have to stop Venable from murdering two innocent people, he’d rolled his eyes. 

“I suppose this means they’ll also be joining us in Sanctuary?” he’d asked in a bored tone before she practically pushed him out the door before it was too late.

With a final grumble about good girls and a kiss to her head, he’d left.

Seven seats were at the lunch table.

And that probably would have been a lot more satisfying if she weren’t so exhausted from dealing with Coco and Gallant, the latter of whom apparently wasn’t heartbroken at the death of his nana. 

It seemed her three-hour interview with Langdon had not gone unnoticed by anyone, proving what Maddie had known to be true the whole time: there are no secrets in an Outpost. It also didn’t help that Venable had loudly alluded to Langdon’s “special interest in our own Madilyn.”

She really could smack him for letting her sleep that long. A single hour of his time was precious. Most of his interviews lasted between twenty and thirty minutes.  

One thing was certain: Michael Langdon lacked subtlety in all its forms.

She could only imagine his response to that if she told him. “I have no need to be subtle. I’m right.” Rolling his sea-blue eyes, huffing his exasperation that she would even suggest he should be more subtle. After all, they were all beneath him.

It shouldn’t amuse her the way it did. Michael was a bastard. He teased them all with an Eden that he had basically no intent of delivering. He took great joy in making them all squirm although, she would admit, he liked making her squirm in an entirely different fashion.

 She wondered if it was a matter of vanity. Would he be easier to hate if he wasn’t so attractive? Maybe. He looked like he was crafted by the gods themselves. A Bernini statue come to life. A wild biological defense that made him so handsome only to protect himself from those who would see the true darkness that drove him.

And she did see the darkness.

Anyone who really looked at him wouldn’t be able to miss it. It was in every condescending tilt of his head and every word meant to bait the others into losing control.

The question arose again: how could he be so cruel to others and so kind to her?

He promised to explain in time. It only worried her more. What deep and dark secrets was he keeping from her? Was Sanctuary even real? And if it was, what would they find there?

And yet, she was certain he wasn’t lying to her. He had a way of speaking that was utterly truthful. A careful elocution where his every word was carefully picked to hint at something fantastical while never really revealing anything. If one listened carefully, he never really promised anyone a ticket to Sanctuary. Except her. Of that, she had no doubt.

Still, the others were desperate for any kind of hope. 

Which was why Maddie had been told to sit when she was supposed to be turning down Coco’s room to chat. Coco had never spoken to her in the entire eighteen months they had been at Outpost 3, unless “you! Grey! Fix me a tea!” or “Mallory’s little friend! I need help with my dress” counted as conversation.

“Alright, grey. Spill.”

“Spill what?”

“What happened between you and Langdon!” Gallant had said as if she were an idiot. “You were with him for three hours yesterday. Are you really going to pretend that you didn’t sleep together?”

“We didn’t.” Maddie informed them dryly. For all intents and purposes, she had slept alone the day before. Michael had merely tucked her in.

And while she had tried to seduce him further later that night, he had held firm. Even still, he had brought her to new heights of pleasure she had never imagined before. He put even her most favorite vibrator to shame.

“Yeah. Okay. Nobody believes that. Come on, we’re not looking for the down and dirty details.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gallant had said with a smirk.

Coco had admonished him, slapping Gallant’s chest. “Behave. Come on, Maddie.” She had said her name with a heaviness that told Maddie she was supposed to be honored by Coco learning and remembering her name. “Just give us a little insight into what he likes. What he expects in return for a ticket to Sanctuary.”

“Yeah. Like, he’s got a kinky vibe. But how far does that go?”

“Sadomasochism stuff? Or, just like vanilla BDSM?”

“She’s still walking so it can’t have been too violent,” Gallant had said. “But I’m still thinking he likes it rough. Am I right?”

“I really couldn’t say.” She had told them, pushing away the thoughts of Michael between her thighs, devouring her like a starving man.

Even if she told them the truth, she didn’t think they’d believe her. Michael liked his hair pulled and being kissed on the neck. He liked leaving marks, bruises, and any other proof of possession. He liked kissing while I jerked him off and he ate my pussy like he would die if he stopped.

Gallant had groaned, “You’re killing us! We know you fucked him! No point in keeping it secret. What else were you doing for three hours?”

“Talking.”

“Okay,” Coco had said with a snort. “And I’m a virgin.”

She wondered if revealing her own virginal status would get them to lay off but she somehow doubted it. What was more, everyone in the entire Outpost would know by teatime and that was the last thing she needed.

Already, she had more attention than she liked and it was only getting worse.

Coco and Gallant had continued to push but she didn’t give them anything. Not even a hint, much to their displeasure.

Eventually, they let her get on with her duties. She'd cleaned up their mess and only idly regretted turning down Michael's offer of taking her away from it all.

Even so, everything was made easier by the promise of Sanctuary in days and seeing Michael in hours.

When she had finished with Coco, they had all been called to an emergency meeting by Venable who had almost managed an apology for nearly killing Emily and Tim over having sex. Rather, she never said 'sorry', but she admitted to being wrong and promised to make it up to them all with a Halloween soiree at the end of the week.

Everyone had excitedly gathered around after to discuss the party. Even Venable had stayed for tea with the others.

Of course, Michael had ruined the calm by showing up to steal Emma away for her interview. There had been at least a dozen people present when he had locked eyes with her as she prepared tea and said, in Latin, “Dic verbo, et tollam vos.” Say the word, and I will take you away.

She had flushed like crazy, all eyes suddenly flitting between them. Michael had been nonplussed, completely ignoring all others in the room.

She carefully replied, "Tibi gratias ago, sed nulla.” Thank you, but no.

Michael had shaken his head and mockingly quoted the Latin adage “Labore et honore?” By labour and honor, he was teasing her work ethic.  

Unable to tell him to fuck off, like she wanted, she placed her thumb between her first and middle finger in a rude gesture from early Roman days and, with a calm smile, told him "mordere me." Bite me.

Michael's lips had stretched into a slow smile as he promised, "nocte, ego autem." Tonight I will.

He'd stepped back, eyes locked on her before spinning on his heel and leaving her alone to deal with the fallout.

Her lips twitched as she remembered it all. She was so going to get him back. 

Coco had given her a pointed stare. "Umm, I'm sorry. What the fuck was that?"

“Nothing.” She had been quick to say, resuming her task.

“Now, Madeline-- it’s impolite to lie.” Venable’s hawk-like eyes were locked on her, a sickly sweet smile on her face. “What language was that?”

“Latin.”

“Latin?” Gallant asked, disbelievingly. “Isn’t that dead?”

She nodded. “Mister Langdon and I have a shared interest in ancient languages.”

“How do you know Latin?” Coco asked, the shock of a grey knowing anything clearly too much for her to handle.

Eighteen months she had spent with these people and no one knew the first thing about her. About any of them, really.

Of course, she’d studied a great deal of anthropology in her explorations of the ancient world. Time passed and the world evolved but people in power never did. Knowledge always fell to the wayside of authority. A slave who knew more than his master was still subject to punishment, the same as anyone else.

Her understanding of that fact helped her get through the long months without bemoaning how unfair the Outpost castes were.

“I was just a few months shy of getting my Ph.D in Ancient Civilizations when the blasts fell,” she had replied, quietly bringing over the tea tray to serve them.

“How did you end up here?”

Which was a fair question. Most of the greys were picked by Venable, herself. She had chosen Eric, because he had been a chef at a swanky restaurant in LA. Jane had been an EMT. Emma had been a hotel maid. James, a struggling actor who had waited tables. Mal had been a personal assistant.

She had never asked, and Venable had never shared, how Maddie ended up in a bunker.

“I couldn’t say why I was picked.”

“You weren’t picked,” Venable said, looking at her with a renewed curiosity. As if being the sole-holder of Michael Langdon’s interest wasn’t enough, it seemed everyone wanted to know about her now. “You were on a roster that I was given prior to the war.”

“Wait, are you saying she bought a ticket?”

“No. There were some people chosen specifically by the Cooperative. They had their reasons, I’m sure, but they were never made clear before the blasts fell.”

“Who would have added her to the roster? Why the hell would the new world need someone who’s only knowledge was in the old, old world?” Coco had pushed before Venable shut down the subject altogether, leaving Maddie with more questions than she had started with.

She had always been under the impression that Venable had been the one to recruit her. To find out otherwise was shocking.

Why would the Cooperative choose her of all people? Coco’s words weren’t wrong.

Michael had told her about Sanctuary the night before. The people who he had chosen to survive were all forward-thinking people, driven to keep the world going. There wasn’t room for people like her.

And even if they were looking for an expert in the past, someone to remind them of their history, they would have gone with someone much older and more educated.

She was still a student, not even with a doctoral degree when she had been taken to the Outpost.

Who on the Cooperative could have made that call?

Michael? But she shook her head as soon as she thought about it. Michael was too surprised by her existence to have been involved. And besides, they had never once crossed paths before the war. She would have remembered him, even in passing. 

He wasn’t exactly easy to overlook.

Still, she was desperate to ask him. Even if he didn’t know, she was certain he would have more insight and answers than anyone else.

The clock ticked on and on, slowly as it ever had.

She had never been great left alone with her thoughts. That was part of the reason she focused so much attention on recording and translating. It kept her occupied.

Maddie hugged her knees to her chest.

She had always looked forward to her evenings alone in the library. It was by far the best part of her day but now… now she was just desperate to be back with Michael. The time spent apart was almost painful.

Even when she was immersed in work, he was always on her mind. A part of her wanted to smack him for his behavior earlier, riling up the others and leaving her alone to deal with the fallout of his little Latin conversation. The rest of her just wanted to jump him.

It was only 12:24, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She quietly rose to her feet, careful not to let the bed creek. She tiptoed through the darkened room, leaving behind her journal. They’d barely touched on it last night and tonight, she just wanted to talk to Michael. And maybe a few other things.

Her lips twitched as she opened the door and slipped through. Gently, she closed it behind her. The latch shut and Maddie continued quietly down the hall, a small smile on her face as she made her way towards the library.

A hand warapped around her face and she was lifted from the ground before she could process the fact that she had been touched. A scream escaped her of its own volition but it was muffled by the hand as she was dragged back and into one of the empty rooms, used for storage.

The door closed behind them.

She struggled against her captor but her arms were pinned to her side. Her body was held against another, leaving her with nowhere to turn as her heart beat wildly against the confines of her chest.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh!” She was hushed by a familiar voice. “Don’t scream.”

James.

A wave of terror crept through her and he removed his hand. “James, what are you doing?” she asked, stilling herself. 

Maybe, if he loosened his grip, she could make a run for it…

“What I should have done a long time ago.”

She went cold at his words, flinching despite herself. “Can-can you let me go?”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m afraid I can’t. Not until I know that you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

“You’re hurting me,” she tried, playing on his empathy.

“You’ll be fine.” With the hand that had been covering her mouth, he stroked her hair. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down. It’s… lovely.”

“Thank you.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Every instinct she had told her to fight and scream but she fought them. They were far enough from the grey quarters that she might not be heard at all and James was a good head taller than her. She couldn’t take him in a fight.

And while the thought of playing along made her want to vomit, there was nothing else she could do.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He pushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Another round of nausea rushed to the surface. She swallowed it back, pushing for her most tried and true tactic. 

“James, this isn’t allowed.”

“Venable let Emily and Timothy get off without any consequences. Literally,” he chuckled to himself. “Even threw a party.”

“Still.” She shuddered as his hand trailed down to the top of her dress. He undid a button at her neck. Then another. “It’s not worth the risk of death.”

“Apparently, we’ll die either way. And I’d rather be shot to death by Venable than risk the cannibals on the outside.”

“It doesn’t have to be an either or.”

He undid another button and stiffened. His silence was deafening before he said, “But then it seems that another has gotten here first. You let Langdon fuck you, Maddie?”

She swallowed, having forgotten of the bruises at the base of her neck. “You don’t want to do this, James.”

“You’ve been telling me what I want and don’t want for far too long,” he growled, wrapping a hand around her throat. “You’ve always thought you were better than me.” She shook her head and his grip tightened. “Don’t fucking deny it. You’ve made it clear that you think you’re too good for me.”

So much for eighteen months of letting him down gently.

“Please don’t do this,” she tried one last time. “Just let me go. I won’t say a word about this to anyone. I promise.”

“I’ll make it good for you, Maddie. Even if you are just another whore.” His hand trailed down towards her breast, the arm around her torso loosening ever so slightly.

Maddie slammed her elbow back, twisting from his arms as he cried out in pain. Disoriented, she tried to turn to run to the door but was grabbed by the wrist. James yanked her back and she hissed in pain as her shoulder popped audibly. He shoved her towards the back of the room.

Maddie stumbled over a box and fell, crashing into a stored-away table. Her head bounced off the hardwood and she crumpled to the floor.

Stars overtook her vision and her mouth tasted of copper. Blood?

Her world was going dim, her eyelids drifting shut. 

No. Can’t pass out. Not here.

She tried to open her eyes and whimpered as she found she couldn’t. She was grabbed, shoved to her back only to find that she couldn’t move for trying. His body crawled on top of hers and she couldn’t even lift an arm to strike out.

“You’re going to regret that, Maddie.”

Suddenly, there was a crash and a rush of hot air sweeping into the room and the weight above her was gone. A dark energy surrounded her. Another crash, not quite as loud, echoed around the space followed by the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Her head fell to the side and her eyes managed to crack open.

Michael had James against the wall and was beating him. Moving too fast for James to get a hit in, she could barely see his fists move. There was a sickening crunch of a bone breaking and James cried out in pain.

She could idly hear Michael speaking but it wasn’t in a language she recognized. It sounded like gibberish but, as he spoke, a grey mist seemed to spill from him.

Maddie blinked, uncertain of what she was seeing.

Hallucinating? She wondered as her head pounded painfully. 

It felt like someone was physically taking a hammer to her skull. She cried out, barely withholding a sob.

Immediately, the sounds of the beating stopped and Michael was at her side.. She hadn’t even seen him move.

His face was paler than she had ever seen it. Was he wearing makeup? In her hazy-state, she almost thought she saw places where his skin was raised in the shapes of runes. His eyes were filled with flames.

And then it was gone.

Michael was staring down at her with his dark blue eyes, his features softening.

“I’ve got you, Madeline,” he promised, slipping his arms around her, one beneath her legs, the other under her back.

He lifted her with ease from the floor and she cried out again as her shoulder burned in agony.

His eyes flashed red again as he held her to his chest.

“I’m sorry, mu anassa,” he whispered.

And the room erupted in red. Startled, her eyes widened and she saw James lit on fire. His entire body, from head to toe, was engulfed in flames. For a split second, there was a piercing scream and then it was gone.

Or, rather, they were. 

Michael had transmuted them across the Outpost. She recognized his bedroom as she was hit with another wave of nausea.

Michael was whispering to her, soothingly, as he laid her on his bed. It dipped slightly as she felt him sit next to her.

His fingers touched her forehead and the pain slowly dissipated, starting from where his fingers had touched and spreading back. The stars that had covered her vision were gone, as if they had never been there.

His hand trailed down and swept across her lips.

The taste of blood vanished.

“This might hurt,” he warned, sounding pained himself as he brought his hand to cover her shoulder.

Maddie bit her lip to keep from crying out but a small whine managed to escape before the pain, there, vanished with the rest.

Her breath hitched as she took account of her body. Less than a minute ago, she had been in blinding pain and now she was fine. Physically, at least. Not even the dullest of aches.

“H-how?” she whispered, unsure of what she was even asking.

How had he known she was in trouble? How had he lit James on fire? How had he healed her with a touch?

Yes, he was powerful but no witch or warlock was supposed to be that powerful. Alpha, Supreme, or not.

Michael reached up to cup her cheek. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I miss anywhere?”

She shook her head and noticed, only then, that she was trembling.

Michael’s face was tight, like he was fighting back emotions. “I’m so sorry, Madeline.”

Of all she could have expected him to say, that wasn’t it. “Sorry? You saved me.”

“I wasn’t there. I should have been there to walk you to the library. I should have known better than to leave you alone!” His words were gradually increasing in both volume and upset.

She reached out for the hand on his lap. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have,” he argued, shaking his head. “If I had just looked into his fucking head like I should have. I let myself take risks that I never should have with you in the picture.”

He continued ranting, his anger at himself palatable but Maddie was drawn to his words. 

If I had just looked into his fucking head.

The more she learned, the more she was certain that Michael was far more than he said he was.

She thought back to the articles she had read on the witches when they first went public. Most witches had a gift, maybe two. Things they could do that no one else could. A great witch could have up to five gifts but only the best could master seven.

Michael had mastered far more than seven.

But she couldn’t bring herself to think about it yet.

Not when he was so distraught. Not when she was still shaking from fear and adrenaline.

When she thought about what could have happened if Michael hadn’t shown up…

She squeezed his hand tightly.

He turned his palm to face hers and squeezed back. “What can I do?”

“Just… Can you hold me for a few minutes?”

He nodded and Maddie pushed to a sitting position as Michael turned so his back was to the headboard. She curled into his side, letting her legs drape over his lap as she leaned into his touch. 

His arms came around her and she wondered, for a moment, if the action would be too confining. If she’d be aching to escape the way she had tried to from James’ grasp but she only felt warm and safe.

For all his flaws, and fuck, he had flaws, she knew Michael would never hurt her.

She rested her head against his shoulder, nestling into the crook of his neck. She breathed in the warm, spicy scent of his skin mixed with the masculine fragrance from whatever he used on his hair. 

My diva, she thought adoringly.

Michael ran a hand up and down her back, soothingly. “Would you like to talk about it?” he offered.

Desperately, although she feared Michael wouldn’t react well to any of it. He’d proven that already, though she was now doubting her memory.

Had Michael truly turned momentarily demonic and set James on fire? Or had her head injury been worse than she initially feared?

She breathed him in again, taking comfort in his presence.

“I was on my way to the library,” she said softly. “I have no idea where he was hiding but he grabbed me and covered my mouth so I couldn’t scream and dragged me off to that storeroom.”

Michael continued to stroke her back but she could feel his fingers had curled. She could feel the anger pulsing off him in waves. Still, she pushed on.

“He’s always been kind of pushy with me but he’d back off when I pushed back. And I’d always had the safety of Venable’s rules to fall back on. He wanted me, but not more than his life. But because Venable let Emily and Tim off the hook--”

“I never should have interfered,” he growled.

“No!” Maddie looked up and shook her head. “They didn’t deserve to die for what they did!”

“I don’t care what two half-witted kids do or don’t deserve.”

“Well, I do!” She reached for his face, turning him to face her. “And I know that you only saved them because I asked you too. And I didn’t get a chance to say thank you, earlier, but…”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, shaking his head. His lip curled in disgust. “Don’t thank me for coming in here and changing the rules that kept you safe until I could come for you.”

Again, there was something about his wording that threw her for a loop, but she didn’t get the feeling he was in the right place to tumble down that rabbit hole.

She shook her head. “I warned him that Venable might not be as kind two a grey as she was to a purple and he still said it was worth the risk. That he’d rather die by execution than cannibals.”

The news didn’t seem to set him on ease.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“I’m fine.” Michael’s words came through gritted teeth. “This isn’t about me. I wasn’t the one almost--”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it and she adored him for that, too.

“I wasn’t,” she reassured him. “You got there, got to me, in time. You saved me, Michael.”

His expression didn’t change but he let his arms slide around her, hugging her tightly. “Continue.”

Although she appreciated the effort, it probably was best to keep James' comments about her hickies and her relationship with Michael to herself. 

"I tried to reason with him. When it didn't work, I tried to hit him, to escape but I didn't even get close to the door."

Fuck, it was embarrassing how pathetic her attempt had been. She should have hit him harder. Screamed even after she hit him, just in case someone heard.

"You did what you could," he reassured her.

Her lip quivered as it all came back to her at once. James pinning her in place, his grimy hands and his putrid words.

She stiffened and Michael murmured, "There it is."

She swallowed, trying to stop herself from crying when Michael reached up to her face, wiping away a tear she didn't know had fallen.

"Let it go."  

She did, choking on a sob as the emotions overwhelmed her. Michael wrapped her up in his arms and Maddie curled into him.

"You're safe now," he whispered and she cried harder, burying her face against his chest. Michael cupped the back of her head, gently massaging her. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

 And even as he offered her comfort, there was something utterly lethal about his tone. She didn’t doubt his words for an instant and she truly believed that Michael would kill anyone who looked at her wrong.

Her fingers dug into his shoulder as she sobbed.

She’d been so fucking terrified. She’d never felt more isolated or alone than she had in those few minutes. She’d never been more afraid than when James was touching her, refusing to let her go. 

If Michael hadn’t been there…

And for so long, Michael hadn’t been there. Had James tried something even a week earlier, there would have been no one to save her. 

No one had ever made her feel safe the way Michael did. Not her parents, not her family. No one. She couldn’t bring herself to care about the fact that she was pretty certain Michael had murdered James for touching her. The fear that was still coursing through her brought her pause and she thought good.

She cried for that. For the fact she was hopeful that a man had died, painfully. For how close a call it had been. For not being able to defend herself against that attack and needing someone else to save her.

And Michael just continued to hold her through her tears, occasionally offering reminders that she was safe. That he would never hurt her, that he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her ever again.

How could James, who was considered to be a good, easy-going guy by everyone, have done something so vile while Michael, who didn’t seem to give a flying fuck if everyone on Outpost dropped dead tomorrow, present company excluded, had saved her? And comforted her?

Maddie felt her breath hitch as her tears began to subside.

Fear had been replaced by security.

Even so, a new emotion began rising to the forefront. Humiliation. For Michael to have seen her so weak… for her to have cried all over him. She swallowed back the fresh pain of knowing he had seen her so low.

She hiccuped softly and Michael offered her a handkerchief. She had no idea where he had gotten it from but she no longer felt the need to question him. He deserved a little more trust considering just how good he had been to her.

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. When she was done, the handkerchief vanished into the air. 

Michael reached for her face, tilting her chin up so he could look at her.

Maddie felt the flush stain her cheeks but she forced herself to hold his gaze, even through soaking lashes and what was likely blotchy skin.

“What can I do?” he asked and her heart ached.

He was too good to her.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice rough with emotion. “You’ve already done so much…”

Michael shook his head. “None of that. Please. What can I do for you?” At her silence, he pushed, “I can get you something to eat or drink. I can distract you. I can draw you a bath.”

The last was the most appealing but an impossibility.

“We don’t have the water rations on this Outpost for a bath.”

Michael huffed, reaching out his hand. She watched as a tiny rainstorm gathered six inches up from his palm and began to pour into his hand.

“And if you weren’t concerned about water rations?” Michael teased, his tone lightening.

It made her smile. She couldn’t help it as she turned back to him and nodded. “A bath would be good.”

Kissing her head, he untangled himself from her and got out of the bed. He walked over to a door just off his bedroom and left it open so she could see as he gathered a similar storm over the bathtub.

It sounded like rain falling and, in a way, it was.

She pushed up from the bed and followed him into the bathroom. She watched as the tub filled. The little droplets caused ripples, crashing into one another. 

Steam rose from the water and she could feel the heat warming the bathroom.

A bath was such an unbelievable luxury, she almost couldn't fathom it.

"We should take you on tour," she muttered. 

She felt ridiculous and clingy but she wrapped her arms around his middle. Michael didn't seem to mind, setting his own arm around her.

"Wine?" He offered but she shook her head, not wanting to let go.

She'd never been particularly needy. She was too touch-repulsed for that. It was a strange sensation to crave the touch and presence of another with all that she was.

And Michael, who was far more antisocial than her, took it all in stride. 

Almost as if he could read her mind, he asked, "Do you want me to stay or go?"

"Stay. Please."

“Good.”

She smiled, relieved.

It was nice to know, the midst of her own pain and confusion, that he was just as crazy when it came to her as she was for him. 

Reluctantly, she pulled away and turned around. She meant what she said-- she didn’t want him to leave but somehow, in her exhausted state, it had slipped her mind that she needed to be naked for the tub. 

 Maddie raised her chin. Fuck it. He’d already seen the most intimate parts of her. And she hadn’t let Michael intimidate her yet. She’d be damned if she started now.

She unbuttoned her dress down to her waist before letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in the fitted slip and underwear that passed as lingerie in Venable’s new world.

Summoning her courage or, more accurately, her ability to block out the part of her brain that controlled shame and self-preservation, she disposed of those, too.

She leaned down the ivory claw-footed tub and touched the water to test it. She noticed the way Michael breathed sharply and she smiled.

The water was perfect. She couldn’t have drawn it better if she had tried. Hot, but not scalding. She breathed in the steam and was surprised to find it scented like roses. Michael was just full of surprises.

Maddie stepped into the tub carefully, slowly letting herself sink down into the water. At once, her body seemed to relax, the tension easing away. Hugging her knees to her chest, she looked back.

Michael was watching her, his eyes dark. He was still fully dressed. His body was stiff and he stood perfectly still as he watched her. She swallowed under his scrutiny.

“Are you coming?” she asked with far more confidence than she felt.

His face was stone as he blinked and his clothes vanished. She kept her gaze locked on his as he stepped behind her. She moved forward slightly, making room to accommodate him. The water rose as he slipped in, stretching out his legs on either side of her.

He brushed her hair around so that it all fell down her right shoulder. His arm went around her, just below her breasts, settling her against him as Michael relaxed back against the edge of the tub. 

She was draped across his bare chest, her head resting on his shoulder. His arm kept her from slipping and Maddie couldn’t help but sigh contentedly.

He kissed her temple.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” she said, reveling in the feel of him and the warmth from the water.

“How was the rest of your day?”

“I’ve had worse, but…”

“But?”

“I’ve had better,” she admitted. “Lowlights from today, what happened tonight notwithstanding, include dealing with the fallout of your little Latin communique this afternoon and two hours of dealing with Coco and Gallant, which peaked when Coco asked me if you enjoyed analingus.”

Michael chuckled. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her to ask you, herself.”

She was facing away but she could practically see him wince. “Thanks for that.”

“Least I could do. You, somehow,  knocked me out for two hours of sleep and I’ve dealt with eighty hours of the inquisition as a result.”

“It’s been less than forty,” he noted offhandedly. 

Maddie glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t test me, Langdon.”

“Never,” he agreed.

She leaned back against him, closing her eyes again. “And I will get you back for the mess this afternoon. What’d you think was going to happen when you burst into a dead language in front of half the Outpost?”

He smiled at the memory. “Well, I was hoping you would take my offer to get you away from all of them. I could have saved you from all that backlash but you were too proud. In fact,” Michael reached down to her left hand. He picked it up from out of the water and tugged it back until it reached his mouth. He nipped her forefinger. “I believe you told me to bite you.”

Her lips twitched at the memory. The way he had slowly smiled at her words and rude gesture, teasing her back that later, he would.

It had been worth the bullshit question she’d been asked as a result to see him smile like that, just for her.

The things she would do for him, put up with for him, astounded her.

"I should have known how you would have taken that particular sentiment," she teased. "You have a dirty, dirty mind."

"Only for you, mu anassa."

She smiled at the endearment. Ancient Greek for my queen. Then she blinked.

He had used it once before, earlier that night, but she had missed it. 

But the first time he had called her that was in her dream, when he was taunting to tell him where to touch her.

A coincidence?

That Michael would use such an obscure term to describe her both in her dreams and in real life? No, she didn't think so.

Mark joining dreams down as another ability possessed by the great Michael Langdon.

She was very glad to be on his good side.

"Tell me about your day," she said, wondering if he ever had someone close enough to ask him such mundane questions. 

His arm tightened slightly, telling her he really didn't have anyone like that.

"Started well. I had a library date with a pretty girl," he whispered in her ear. His words brought a smile to her face. "Unfortunately, it all went down from there. Dull interview after dull interview. Blank stare after blank stare."

"You just hate everybody, don't you?"

"Hate requires a certain level of care. I am entirely apathetic to the matter."

"May I ask you something?"

  "Of course."

She turned in the tub so that she was on her side. Better able to look at him and see the way his blond hair framed his face. It glowed like a halo in the candlelight.

"Why did you come here? You run the Cooperative. Checking on the Outposts and judging who is fit for Sanctuary seems… I don't know. Like something you'd pawn off on a lackey."

He raised a hand, rubbing circles on her back. "You have me all figured out, don't you, little one?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid I've barely scratched the surface."

"You're right, of course. I typically prefer to delegate, but I'm not omnipotent nor am I all-knowing. In my life, I've had a handful of others who's counsel I take. Two trusted advisors, who I trust above all others. You will meet them both soon. And two creatures that I simply cannot seem to deny anything. My father is one of them."

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Your father is alive?"

His lips twitched. "Like a cockroach, I truly believe that my father could survive anything."

She thought back to everything he had told her about his life growing up. She already wasn't the biggest fan of the man but the way Michael talked about him made it seem as if he were rather ambivalent.

"You don't sound too fond of him."

"We're alike in many ways. A fact that is often to our detriment. He was the one who told me to check on the Outposts. In hindsight, I'm glad he did. It was on my to-do list but I kept putting it off." He gazed at her with reverence. "I will forever regret taking so long to find you, Madeline. And I will spend an eternity making it up to you."

There was remorse in his voice. True remorse. None of the false inflections he used when he spoke with Venable or any of the others on the Outpost.

It tugged at her heart.

"And if I told you that you have nothing to make up for?"

"I would disagree. And I would make up for it anyway."

Her lips twitched. "An eternity, huh?"

Michael nodded, looking quite serious. "I'm afraid so."

The thought warmed her and she laid her head on his broad chest. His other arm wrapped around her, encasing her. She was never safer than in his arms.

Her hand laid on his sternum, her fingers teasing him softly.

"Who's the other?" she asked, almost as an afterthought.

"Pardon?"

"You said there were two people you can't say no to. One of them is your father. Who is the other?"

He gave her a pointed stare. "I think it should be quite obvious."

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

An eternity with Michael Langdon sounded pretty damn good.

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