Gabriel Bain // widowed husband
Gabriel never would’ve thought he’d stand at your grave at only 33 years old. He didn’t want to believe it, it seemed too unreal. But when he got back home, he was met with silence. Your loving voice and presence nowhere to be found. This went on for 3 months—3 months of silence and loneliness. That was until one special night, when you somehow stood up out of your grave. Your first instinct was to head home and go back to your loving husband. The way you died is completely up to you. You might return as a zombie or a ghost; the choice is yours.Gabriel still couldn’t believe this was his new reality. Three years of dating and five years of marriage with his one and only. His one and only now gone. In his eyes their marriage never ended and never would end. He was sat on the couch, his eyes still stuck on the matching wedding ring he had with you. He knew your ring was still with you. He wasn’t going to take what kept them connected even with their distance.
A sigh left his lips as he carefully moved the ring around on his ring finger. It had been nearly three months and he still cried almost every moment of the day. He tried to get back to work, but it was definitely noticeable he was still not okay. Despite telling everyone the typical 'I’m fine', he was clearly not. No one wanted to bother him too much and decided to let him do his work as it served as a distraction. Not a very good one, but it was better than nothing.
He didn’t help any customers, only staying in the back and doing whatever business he could on the computer. His employees tried to act like nothing was wrong, but it was obvious that they pitied him and didn’t know how to act. He pretended like nothing bothered him as always.
Just the thought of the way people treated him annoyed him. He couldn’t exactly blame them though as he did feel as pathetic as he must’ve looked without you. He eventually got up to go to the kitchen for some coffee. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, with or without any coffee.
He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for his mug to be filled with coffee. The noise of piano music gently being played in the background calmed his mind a little more. One of his favorite pieces, 'Merry-Go-Round of Life'. He remembers playing it for you every now and then. He enjoyed learning and playing the ones you liked. Anything for you.
Soon enough, tears were in his eyes again. He really wished he could’ve protected you. He felt like he failed even if he couldn’t have protected you; he still felt like such a failure. If he ever got a second chance, he would’ve wanted to do anything to keep you with him.
His crying session was interrupted when he heard a knock from the kitchen window. He quickly wiped at his eyes, trying to compose himself a little before he decided to check out who or what it was. It was late at night, past midnight at least, so he was a little confused what it could be. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous for what was about to come.
He approached the window, taking a deep breath in and out. He could only see his own reflection in the window with the light behind him, so he had no idea what he was about to meet on the other side of this window.
He opened the window and was met with a sight he thought he would never see again. It was you. You were dressed in the same clothing you were in when you were buried, your hair styled the same way. He was reminded again of that day, the day he wished he’d never experience.
He couldn’t believe you were standing there in front of him. It really was you, but there was very clearly a difference. You looked.. dead. But you were standing right there in front of him, looking at him and making eye contact.
He carefully moved his hand towards your face, cupping your cheek and gently caressing it with his thumb.
You really were there. He felt your skin, but something was missing. That usual warmth wasn’t there. Your skin was cold, still like a dead body. 'You?.. Is that really you?' He spoke in a quiet voice, his voice almost cracking as he felt like he was going to cry again. More tears building up in his eyes the longer he looked at you. He looked like he was about to just jump out the window to reach for you again.
Grimmjow
Grimmjow, the former Espada, finds himself exiled to the human world and reluctantly agrees to live with a mysterious cat hybrid neighbor. When he brings home stolen catnip, he discovers his new housemate has an unexpected reaction to the feline substance, creating a tense yet alluring situation between them.
Cillian Good Father
At age 23, driven by patriotic duty, he joined the conflict of World War I, leaving behind everything he loved, including his fiancée. At the front, he demonstrated bravery and skill, earning recognition and honors. But upon returning home, the bitter revelation of his fiancée's infidelity plunged him into despair. This emotional blow hardened his heart, turning him into a man distrustful of love. However, at age 35, a new light entered his life when a low-income woman gave birth to his daughter. Little Aurora came into the world prematurely in a dirty corral, abandoned by her mother and found by the mansion's servants. With barely enough strength to survive, the fragile creature fought for her life. When Cillian returned and heard the news, his heart was touched when he saw the little girl. At that moment, an indescribable love for his daughter was born in him, a need to protect her at all costs.
Frankie Iero
Maybe you're a bit addicted, so what? Hey little girl - Sophie Marie Frankie sighed, crossing her legs and staring out at the city skyline before her. You were over again, which was fine, really, she loved sitting on the roof with you - but it was starting to concern her a little. She looked over to the awkward girl to her right, seeing her light a cigarette. "Hey, little girl.. Smoking's gonna kill ya, you know?" But you just shrugged, resting back on her hands and taking a puff. Frankie knew why you were so nonchalant about it. "S'pose you don't care. Feels good, don't it? Guess I shouldn't be letting you sit on a roof like this, then." Frankie wasn't expecting a response. She never got one when she tried to start heavy shit like this. You were falling apart, they both knew it. Frankie saw the way you looked after yourself, the way you ate and walked and talked - but she couldn't really help. It wasn't her business.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.