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archonanqi · 3 years

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consequence / pt ii

⛔️ Warning: Please read the tags and warnings on the info page and proceed with caution.

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pt. ii of iii

The sky was still dark when you woke with a splitting headache. You blinked the sleep from your eyelids, eyes adjusting to the shadowy silhouettes of furniture around you. This was— one of Wangshu Inn’s rooms? You checked yourself for wounds and fractures; there was a scrape on your knee, but it had been properly dressed and bandaged.

Zhongli.

You had to get Aether and get out. You would have taken any punishment from Zhongli for breaking the contract but Aether— it was clear that Zhongli knew he could get to you through him. Your brother was in danger, too.

Stumbling to the door, you threw it open to meet the stunning Liyue night view. At the altitude of Wangshu Inn, the air was always cold and crisp, and you took a deep breath as you stepped out of the room to come face to face with a pair of familiar, bright yellow eyes.

“Xiao?” The relief you felt was immense. No matter the danger, you’d always been able to depend on the Vigilant Yaksha to back you up in battle. “I’m so glad to see you. You won’t believe this—“

Once you took a better look at Xiao’s face, you trailed off. There was no surprise in his gaze. You had not found him by a stroke of luck; he was here to stop you from leaving.

“I know of your contract with Rex Lapis.” How long had it been since he had last spoken to you in that tone of disdain? “I have helped him uphold countless in the past few millennia. Even you are no exception.”

“Xiao, I didn’t even know what the contract meant,” you pleaded, hope soaring at the flicker in his eyes. “Please, let me leave.”

The Yaksha swallowed visibly, brows knitting together. “No,” he finally said. “Go back to your room. I don’t want to have to fight you while you’re in... this state.”

“You’d fight me here?” You said, for the second time that night. “The civilians—” As you turned to gesture at the staff of Wangshu Inn, you realized that despite the commotion, not one of them was looking in your direction.

“The staff of Wangshu Inn are prepared, as am I,” Xiao said, without so much as glancing in their direction, “to carry out the will of our lord.”

Ah. You were alone here. But still, you stood firm, and watched the resignation dawn in Xiao’s eyes. You had not backed down when Chef Mao told you they were out of Almond Tofu, during your dinner with Xiao three months ago. You had not backed down when three Abyss Mages had you cornered in Lingju Pass; and even as Xiao had slaughtered them, you’d tried to get one last swing in with a tree branch. You would not back down now, and Xiao knew it as well as you did.

“I wish it didn’t come to this,” Xiao said, and you believed him wholly.

He clasped his hand to his face, and when it came away, he was wearing his mask. You supposed that you should feel a little flattered that he thought he had to don his Yaksha mask to fight you, hungover as you were. But before that, you felt worry. You knew full well what the mask did to him, had seen your fair share of aftermaths after a battle had dragged too long.

“Xiao, don’t hurt yourself,” you whispered.

In his eyes, behind the teal glow of his veil, you saw just a flicker of hesitation. But not enough.

Just as you shifted into a defensive stance — the way Xiao had taught you to do during your sparring sessions — there was a movement behind you. The Yaksha looked up over your shoulder, and immediately bowed his head, his mask fading away as quickly as it had come. You turned, even though you already knew what you’d see: Zhongli, pristine and immaculate as ever, his coat carried gently in the wind.

Disappointment in Zhongli’s gaze had always been hard to stomach, but today, it felt like the weight of the world on your lungs. “So she did try to escape, then, before even granting me an audience?” The former Archon asked, every word chilling you to your core. “Thank you for your service, Xiao. You may go now.”

Xiao lifted his head, turning to go wordlessly. Before he disappeared down the stairs, he paused. “What are you going to do to her?”

Zhongli regarded him with a lidded glance. “Only what must be done.”

—

After Xiao’s leave, Zhongli turned to you.

“Do you understand now?” He asked, flicking his hand back in the same slow gesture as he always did when he was telling a long story. You remembered how much you adored listening to the tales of the Archon War. Stories of those he conquered, brought to life through his deep, rich voice. You never thought you’d be among them, one day. “Six thousand years is a long time, even for those who live forever. I know every crack, cave and crevice, every clan, bloodline and family in Liyue. There is no place for you to run.”

You knew what he left unspoken. You had been a part of Liyue for what, one, two years? He had raised it from the earth. Despite all his talk of friendship, you would find no allies here who would, when faced with the choice, defy their archaic lord for you.

Xiao’s betrayal still stung, but in light of the weight of Zhongli’s presence before you, it was all but inconsequential, and wholly unsurprising. The slight shiver that ran down your spine, this time, was not because of the cold night air.

“What did you do to Aether?” is the first thing you managed to say.

“Your brother is safe.” Zhongli assured you. “I’ve had him sent to Bubu Pharmacy for treatment, and Paimon is looking after him.”

The relief you felt was uneasy. Safe— for now, at least.

“Where is he?”

“A location that I have secured, personally. You may see him when we are done here.” Zhongli answered seamlessly. You did not miss the threat that was left unspoken. “Though, he is not the one you ought to be worrying about, right now.”

An amicable departure from Teyvat was but a dream at this point; but maybe if you swallowed your anger, you could get him to leave you alone. Of all the farewells you had imagined, this wasn’t one you hadn’t even imagined would come to pass.

“That was it, right?” You joked weakly, even the pretense of cordiality almost too difficult to maintain, “the Wrath of the Rock? I mean, you literally knocked me out.”

Zhongli studied you carefully, before opening his mouth. “What do you think?” He asked. “ Was that a punishment fitting enough for one who reneged against the God of Contracts?”

“I— I,” You stammered for a little, but stopped once you realized it was futile. Zhongli would exact what punishment he deemed you deserved, and no force in Teyvat could possibly hope to stop him. Defeated, you exhaled deeply. “Would it help my case if I said ‘yes’?”

“No,” Zhongli answered, without hesitation. “Not in the slightest.” There was nothing left of the Zhongli you knew — thought you’d known — in his stone-cold expression.

A festering fear had settled deep within your stomach, rancid and heavy. How arrogant you had been, to think that you could thoroughly understand a being that had lived longer than recorded history, longer than human civilization in some worlds — could you even grasp the very notion of living six thousand years, of spending four thousand fighting a war? The countless bygone friends and foes he must have had to cut down?

How foolish of you to think that you could have outweighed any of them.

“What will it take to keep Aether safe?” You said, dropping your smile. If Zhongli would not budge when faced with the lingering remnants of your friendship, then you would speak to him the only way you knew how to get through to him; with a contract. “I’ll willingly accept any punishment, without a fight, as long as you promise to let him and Paimon go safely afterwards.”

Would Zhongli really… kill you? Even knowing all that you knew of his brutality during the war, it was hard to wrap your head around. You couldn’t breathe.

“Any…?” Zhongli’s huff created a small cloud of condensation in the night air. “It seems I have not taught you enough about the art of negotiation during our journey together. An open contract is a very dangerous thing to place in the hands of your adversaries.“

“I don’t care,” you snapped. Any other time, and you would have loved to hear him lecture, but...“Just tell me you won’t hurt them.”

Zhongli closed his eyes once more, as he always did when presented with a contractual proposal to ponder. Finally, when he had been still so long you’d thought he might have fallen asleep, he crossed his arms. “Very well. I accept the terms of your contract.”

At least, no matter what happened to you, Aether and Paimon would be safe.

“Come, y/n,” Zhongli beckoned with two gloved fingers, “let us continue somewhere more private.” He turned around and began walking, as though he had not a doubt that you would follow him. Well, with the terms that he had over your head, did you really have a choice?

You had been to Wangshu Inn so many times — to complete commissions, to grab a quick lunch, to bring Almond Tofu for Xiao — that you knew the land around it like the back of your hand. It would be so easy to escape on your own; you’d make it to Mondstadt within the night. Determined as Zhongli was, the idea of a diplomatic fallout with Liyue’s neighboring nation would at least make him take pause in his pursuit of you. Right?

Freedom was within your grasp. Behind you, the crickets chirped their hymns into a star-flecked sky.

You owe me big time, dear brother , you thought bitterly to yourself as you followed Zhongli back into his room.

#zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli #yan!zhong #zhongli fanfic #genshin fanfic #consequence #anqi writes #my writing

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blps · 3 years

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Let my hands guide you

Pairing: Akaashi x reader

Genre: fluff! And strangers to lovers

Summary: You meet Akaashi at a pottery store. (PLEASE TAKE NOTE THAT I NEVER DID POTTERY IN MY LIFE, SO PLEASE DON’T TAKE IT TOO SERIOUSLY PLS)

Word count: 1.3k

a/n: ...... ok so I’m not sure I like this, the scenario in my head is way better so I might do a different one with pottery!Akaashi because I can hahaha; I hope you lovely people had a nice weekend and here’s a fic to handle the week! Enjoy!

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You opened the door to enter the shop. It was a pottery store where they taught classes for beginners, sold from every type of work from mugs, plates and vases to original decorative art pieces some students were willing to sell.

It was your first time to come here, a little intimidated by the beautiful artwork displayed. You shook that feeling away, determined to simply enjoy yourself and have fun creating something. A feeling of excitement washed over you, ready to try pottery for the first time.

A kind girl greeted you, showing you the way to the back, the workspace for classes and artists. You put on an apron and followed her to your assigned molding stand for hand building method of making pottery. She showed you the three main techniques; the pinch pot, coiling and slab.

Once she taught you every method and the use of each tool, you thanked her as she left you alone to concentrate on your work. It was fun and relaxing. Concentrating on the details of your pieces and handling the tools. It was strangely therapeutic. You made one bowl, one mini pot for one of your plants and, with the clay that was left, you made a small ladybug to go on the pot as decoration. You were proud of what you accomplished and turned to notify the nice girl but you couldn’t find her. You were nervous to explore and leave your familiar workplace. Thankfully, another staff member saw your distress.

“Do you need anything?”

He took your breath away. You couldn’t believe you got the chance to lay your eyes on his beauty. He glanced at your workspace and you remembered what your goal initially was.

“Oh, I just finished my clay and I was wondering if I could know how to finalise it?”

“Yes no problem. They are wonderful for a beginner,” he complimented you, making you even more confident in your new hobby,”I can take care of this for you. So first we’ll -”

He then proceeded to show you how to finalise your pottery, explaining everything methodically and clearly. You listened as he kept on talking, entranced by both of his looks and his words.

He notified you that it would take three to eight hours for the clay to harden. They would supervise your work, taking good care until your next visit. He accompanied you to the front desk as you paid for today’s expanses.

“I would also like to book another session, preferably one with an electric wheel?” you asked.

“Of course,” the pretty staff member smiled at you and proceeded to book you your next appointment.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You realised that you never asked for the pretty staff member's name. When you picked up your artwork, you didn’t see him for the entirety of painting your mug and pot. But even at that, you enjoyed brushing the paint on the clay and continuing your newfound hobby. Akaashi was forgotten at the back of your mind, too busy enjoying your new favourite activity.

You painted your mug your favourite colour and added some details to your liking. For your pot, you chose a nice blue colour to mimic the blue sky, a contrast to your plant’s different hues. Your ladybug sat nicely on the side of the pot. It might not look hyperrealistic, but it was still one you were proud of.

Your day finished well as you returned home with your new acquired creation. Putting your plant in the new pot, it was well decorated and a feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction overcame you. Pottery made you happy and you were eager to start new projects in the future.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

For the next few sessions, you made various mugs and tableware for the shop. Making these allowed you to not pay for anything as you were producing for the shop. But of course, once in a while, you would create for your own place. Pottery soon became a regular activity of your weekly routine.

With how much you spent time there, you met the pretty staff member again, often at that. His name was Akaashi and he was the one who always put your clay to harden. He always complimented you on your work and helped you if you needed any advice. Akaashi quickly became a friend to you.

The nice girl who first taught you the basics, Yukie, was also a friendly person you could depend on.

Currently, you were frustrated because the clay wouldn’t do as you guided it to do. The shape you wanted to achieve was a challenge and the shape you had was all deformed and abstract. You turned off the power of the wheel and let out a sigh.

“Do you need any help?”

You gave Akaashi a desperate look, your eyes clearly saying yes. He smiled a little and pulled a seat facing you. He fixed the oddly shaped clay, and let your hands work. When you started to mess up the shape, Akaashi joined his hands over yours, guiding them to the proper movements of your shape. His hands were covered in clay, as were yours, but the gentle way his hands held yours made your heart skip a beat. His long fingers corrected your mistakes as he explained what you were doing wrong.

For the first time, your ears didn’t listen to him. You were surprised by how he held your hands so easily. His gaze was focused on the clay as he kept on rambling about pottery, but yours were on him. You noticed that everytime he talked about his passion, he got more talkative, having this eager tone that made his eyes light up.

Sensing that your hands were not moving and that you didn’t respond, he looks up, meeting your eyes. None of you could look away as nothing was said. The wheel continued to spin, the room was still noisy from other workers, but it seemed that the both of you were frozen in time, neither of you moving.

Then, someone bumped into you, from behind, making you fall forward into Akaashi. This seemed to wake you up from your trace as you quickly excused yourself and went to pack your stuff to go home.

Akaashi was still in the same position, looking at the door you left, wondering if you felt his heartbeat quickened.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You proceeded to avoid Akaashi for the next few days, too embarrassed to face him again. You came when he didn’t have a shift, Yukie keeping you company.

Pottery helped to take your mind off of him. You concentrated on making various creations, new pots for your new plants. The spinning of the wheel drifted your mind elsewhere, your surroundings fading away. Maybe that’s why you didn’t notice him.

“Can we talk?” You froze entirely. You already felt bad avoiding him, you might owe him an explanation.

You agreed, following him to a more private area of the store, your hands still tainted of clay. Akaashi on the other hand was dressed casually, the first time you saw his style. Of course he knew how to dress with style too. His only sign of nervousness was him playing with his fingers.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line when I touched your hands, I should’ve asked first, I-”

“That’s not it Akaashi,” he looked at you curiously, the script he memorised completely unnecessary, “When we held... well touched hands, I felt something that may cross the line of friendship. I needed time to myself-”

“What if I told you I also felt it”, your look of surprise met his, “If you are willing to try, for a relationship, I’m willing to try.”

You didn’t know what to say. Were you ready to be in a relationship with Akaashi? Would you risk your friendship? You did think he was handsome, and kind, and easy to go along with, and easy to open up to, and your heart was clearly affected by him. But was that enough? Maybe it was.

“I’m willing to try.” Your affirmation put a smile on Akaashi’s lips. Maybe, just maybe it was worth it.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #haikyuu x you #akaashi x you

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sennextheassasinkingoflight · 3 years

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To My Grave

Geraskier Rated T to be safe. Cross posted to Ao3

Prompt: I told you I love you, I thought I was dying, but I lived and now I have to deal.

Summer was of course Jaskiers favorite time of year. Not to say that he did not miss the opulence of the city, or the balls, or even the conversation and study of the arts while he was away. To say he did not miss the shade of the trees in the courtyards of Oxenfurt, or the breeze that often blew off the river would be a lie. And yet, summer brought with its adventure, travel, inspiration, and of course, his friend Geralt of Rivia.

Despite the excitement that summer brings him, today Jaskier is quite miserable as dust rises into the air with every hoof fall of Roach and Pegasus against the dried, cracked soil of the road. The sun hanging high in the sky drowns them in wave after wave of stifling heat as he follows behind the Witcher heading towards Vizima. They’ve easily another day beyond tonight before they reach their destination, but word of a winged beast has reached Geralt and he is insistent on finding out what it is. Jaskier for his part can’t bring himself to mind. There are plenty of winged beasts that wreak havoc, and he can’t wait to find out what it is. He’s certain it will make for another great tale. Beyond that, there is rumored to be a bardic competition beginning in the next few days, and Jaskier desperately wants to compete.

“Geralt?”

The barest shift in his friend’s demeanor encourages him to continue. Where it was once hard to read the Witcher it is now a language in which he is more fluent than he believed he would be. Shifting in the saddle to ease the discomfort in his lower back, a side effect of aging, he continues his speech.

“How long do you think we may be in Vizima? You see there’s this competition and I was hoping to, well, compete while we’re in town. I know, of course, that it will depend on what kind of “winged beast” it is that we find upon our arrival, but have you perchance any ideas on our time frame?”

“I could leave you there.”

“Come now Witcher, I’m being serious.” He laughs out. Geralt hasn’t threatened to leave him behind, seriously, in almost a decade.

“So was I, bard.” Geralt tells him with a slump in his shoulders that indicates he isn’t serious at all.

“Hmm, I don’t think I believe you.” Snarks Jaskier like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. And for him, it might as well be. Perhaps he is too comfortable with his companion. Still, he wouldn’t change this for the world.

“I won’t stop you from competing with Jaskier. In fact, maybe you’ll be too busy to get in my way.” Geralt grins over his shoulder and any retort Jaskier had dies in his throat. He rarely sees those smiles, so he focuses, captures the moment to memory and smiles in return. The lapse in conversation is hardly a new commonality for them. Instead of being uncomfortable it has become a token of their friendship, and Jaskier has learned how to put the silence to use for him at some point in the last fifteen years.

As the sun continues to glare down at them, Jaskier drinks water skin and then pulls out one of his many notebooks and a broken piece of charcoal. He has yet to master playing the lute and riding a horse at the same time, but he can take down notes, even if they are a bit of a mess. Messy notes are much better than no notes at all. Absently he wipes sweat from his brow, unintentionally leaving a streak of charcoal dust across his forehead. With the same movement, he unbuttons the top of his doublet. It is unusually hot for this early in the summer he thinks as charcoal meets parchment again.

The rhythmic clip clop of the horse’s hooves is melodic in his ears as he continues brainstorming. Certainly, he could start another conversation with Geralt, but sometimes it was best to save that for around the campfire. Instead, he watches Geralts back, jots down some ideas and notes, and then watches his surroundings. A slight rustling in the bushes to the left catches his attention. Geralt is saying something but he can’t make out what it is over the cacophony of shouting surrounding him, or the burning in his stomach.

Gasping he falls from Pegasus. The trees look lovely from the side, canopying the road like they may actually cast it in shadow from time to time. With a thud his shoulder comes into contact with solid earth and he groans. Unconsciously he curls into the fetal position on his uninjured side and grits his teeth against the sharp pain below his ribs. Squeezing his eye shut against the ringing of steel in the air and the sun above him he tenderly seeks out the wound with tips of his right-hand fingers. There is an arrow lodged below his ribcage, just below his left lung. Well, that’s lucky isn’t it. He thinks to himself as he assesses the damage as much as possible without the use of his eyes. Slowly he forces them open, blinks against the white in his vision and tries to observe his surroundings.

He watches despondently as Geralt disappears into the woods chasing something, bandits, his brain supplies as he forces himself to roll onto his back and breath as deep as he can. It hurts. It hurts worse than anything he has felt before. Whimpering he considers what he needs to do and blinks back tears trying to keep them from sliding through the dust on his face and turning to mud. Shaking he manages to get to a sitting position, his head spins wildly and he presses his eyes closed so hard he can hear the fluttering of his eyelids. It doesn’t take long for nausea to set in and he vomits to the side.

When he has caught his breath, he looks down and tries to ascertain the extent of the injury. Due to its location he can’t tell exactly how bad it is, between his doublet getting in the way and the poor angle. Exhaling a long, low whistle of air he looks around and notes Pegasus nearby and Roach grazing peacefully to the side, waiting for Geralts inevitable return. Which, Jaskier admits to himself, could be a while if he’s found reason to kill them all. Unlikely, but a good beating, certainly. Hesitantly he tries to stand and fails. Pain like fire rips through his side and the wound begins to bleed worse. Instead he uncrosses his legs and scoots, and starts and stops to the side of the road.

When he finally makes it to the grass he moans. He aches all over and he is shivering cold, despite the heat of the sun against his skin. Sweat beads across his brow, down the nape of his neck and across his back. The station of the sun tells him some time has passed and the only feasible explanation is that he passed out. It doesn’t surprise him. He can’t remember much beyond falling to the ground and Geralt giving chase. Trying to relax his body he lays back feels at the wound, the arrow has been jostled in his movement and it comes loose without much prodding. He inhales too sharply and grimaces, clenching his teeth as air tickles his insides. With a groan he rolls onto his good side and curls up. There is little he can do on his own. He knows he should try and stop the bleeding but he can’t as black shapes swirl in his vision.

+++++

When he comes to the throbbing in his head and side are enough to make him grunt in pain. He can’t seem to formulate words, and despite the darkness that surrounds him when he tries to open his eyes, he is burning up. He lets his weight shift to the right and feel his forehead come into contact with something hard and cool. He moans, pleased and leans further into the item. Leather? His tired mind supplies and he sighs.

“Hold on Jaskier. Just, hold on.” Geralt says nearby, voice rough like gravel, and all he can do is form a strangled sound in response.

++++++

When he wakes a second time, there are two voices whispering urgently somewhere nearby. The first is melodic, clipped and paced. Designed to be listened to, informative. He wonders if the face that belongs to it is soft? If the lips that form words are plump? Are her eyes gentle? The second voice is familiar, like gravel beneath boots. It puts him at ease. He’s to tired to try and open his eyes, though he wants to. Everything burns and aches. Fire courses through his veins, and his side is the source of its fuel.

He tries to speak, but his tongue is heavy in the pit of his mouth. It feels as though someone has poured sand into it while he has slept. His lungs, too, feel as though they are dry as the deserts to the east. He tries to move, to make any sign of life and it is impossible given how barren every part of himself is. If the fire continues to rage, he knows he will not wake up. The thought terrifies him, puts him on edge. Something is placed on his forehead and it feels like boiling water, the cloth like horsehair against his skin. It makes him want to squirm, to lift his hand and throw the blasted item off.

“Jaskier, rest.” The voice like gravel says and so he tries. No. You cannot rest now, Julian. There is something you must tell him before you go. A voice inside his head tells him, and he’s tired enough to listen to it. Aching to fall into oblivion and never return. He is in agony.

“Ge- Grlt.” He manages through parched lips. He tastes blood on his tongue, and in some sick way it is soothing, his mouth finally feels wet, like it should.

“Jask. Sleep.” Geralt says, and he can’t. How could he possibly sleep when he has something this important to say? He tries to swallow, fails, coughs weakly and chokes.

“I.” He wheezes. These words are mummified deep within the caverns of his body. They are dust in his lungs; never meant to be pushed up the dried canal of his throat, never meant to pass through the forbidden gate of his vocal cords, over the desert plateau of his tongue, and carried by hot air through the cracked dunes of his lips.

“Love you.” He finishes voice rough as a sandstorm, before the call of darkness’ cool embrace drags him into the depths of her inky waters.

+++++

He wakes to cool air against his skin, darkness surrounding him when he manages to pry his dried eyes open, and the smell of rosewater and ivy encompassing him. Altogether it is a pleasant change from the last two times he woke up. Of this he is certain. There is very little pain in his movements as he pushes himself into a sitting position.

The bed beneath him is soft, comfortable, expensive. The pillow he shifts behind him is down, and he almost grins, then remembers he has no idea where he is, and in the darkness, he cannot see anything. There are no candles, or fires in the room, and the faint starlight shimmering at the edges of what appear to be heavy curtains does nothing to illuminate the shadows dancing around him. He opens his mouth to call out and whimpers when his lips crack. Tentatively he licks them and finds them bloodied. After a moment he swallows and tries again.

“Hello.” It’s hoarse, and coarse, and too quiet to have been heard, and yet the air to the left of the bed stirs. He shifts to listen more attentively and is surprised when he receives an answer.

“You’re awake!” Its melodic voice and he can’t help but smile at the joy he hears in it.

“I. Yes.” He manages.

“You must be thirsty, let me get you something.” The disembodied voice says and he smiles.

“Thank you.” He blinks away the tears that form when there is a sudden burst of light in the room. Several candles lit themselves across the expanse of the chamber. He watches as the woman moves to the table and pours water from a pitcher, likely there for that very reason. She is lovely, brown hair in ringlets and dark skin shining in the flickering light. When she brings him the water he accepts it gratefully and sips at it.

“Geralt?” He asks after the silence has stretched too long.

“He went out after your reveal. He hasn’t been back yet, but he left Roach so I’m sure he will be back at some point.” She grins, eyes revealing nothing but amusement and understanding.

“I’m sorry, but my wh— oh.” The word comes out of him like he’s been punched in the gut by a witcher. “Please, tell me, it was more than three words?” He begs, voice very quiet, eyes turned towards the cup in his hand as he tries not to spill it. He focuses on keeping his hand from shaking as the woman giggles and then speaks.

“Well, four if you count his name.”

“Lovely. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” He mumbles and then smiles up at her.

“Triss, Triss Marigold.” She says with a smile and refills his water.

“Thank you for staying with me while I recovered. And for the water, I feel as though I could drink a lake dry.”

‘After the fever you had, I’m certain it feels that way. Are you feeling hungry at all?”

It takes him a moment to process the question, and when he does he simply shakes his head no. He doesn’t have much in the way of an appetite, but he is exhausted. Tentatively he brings the glass cup to his lips and drinks the rest of the water. Triss smiles encouragingly at him and he can’t help but return it.

“Miss Marigold, perhaps this is tactless of me, but did you use magic on me? I seem to notice a lack of hole in my gut.

She laughs and her eyes crinkle with glee, “Yes, some. Though I specialize in plants, which is what cured your fever. My magic and Geralts potions did the rest.”

“Witcher potions. He used, a potion on me?”

“Before you got here. He was… concerned you would not make it. You’ve been out for a while, but you haven’t been resting. Try to go back to sleep and we can speak more in the morning.” Triss stands, takes the cup from him and returns it to the table. When she reaches the door she turns to look at him one final time.

“If you need anything, I’m down the hall on the right. Good night Jaskier.” With a wave of her hand she plunges the room back into darkness and the door closes behind her with a soft clunk.

Sighing to himself, Jaskier snuggles down into the thick duvet and curls onto his side. He’s alone with his thoughts and the knowledge that his best kept secret is in the air. He would scream if it didn’t feel like it would drain him of every drop of energy he has. Instead he growls into the pillow with frustration and lets out a long winded sigh. Well Julian, He thinks, this is great. Look what you’ve gone and done now. Ha! You weren’t even awake to see his face. Cowardly now aren’t we. Of course, when haven’t we been? Then again, this wasn’t something we counted on right? No. No it wasn’t. This is fine. This is completely fine. I was dying, right? Yes. I was dying, and feverish. Geralt can’t blame me. We’ll…. We’ll just pretend it was never said and that will be that. Yes, that’s all there is to it. I’ll just pretend not to remember. Geralt probably won’t bring it up and that will be the end of it. Or so he tells himself as he drifts off to sleep in an oversized, overstuffed bed.

Bright light filters through his eyelids and wakes him the following morning. With an unamused groan he rolls over in bed and pulls the duvet over his head. Whose idea was it to open the blinds without warning him. Did they want him to go blind? The smell of food draws him from the cave of warmth he’s created. Sitting up he looks towards the table where Triss is sitting amusedly waiting for him.

“You’re in good spirits this morning.” He grumbles, the effect somewhat ruined by a yawn.

“Of course, I am. You're alive. Geralt is back. The king listened to me for once. It doesn’t get much better than that around here. Now, eat your bread and broth. Nothing heavier for a few days. You’re still recovering.”

Languidly he stretches before slipping from the bed and joining her at the table. In the light of day he can see that the room is smaller than it appeared in the dark. The table is situated a short distance from the hearth, there is a finely woven rug between the table and the bed, a chest and wardrobe against the far wall, and an end table beside the bed and the chair which yet remains beside it.

“Well then, it seems as though everything is going to plan for you today.” He smiles and sips at the steaming beverage in front of him. It soothes his throat on the way down and tastes sweet.

“For now.” She agrees. They eat in companionable silence until heavy footfalls pull them both from their thoughts. He doesn’t have to look up to know that Geralt has entered the room. He can feel eyes on the back of his neck. Triss smiles at him, then looks passed him.

“Well I have some tasks to attend to. I’ll check in on you later, Jaskier.” She says politely and makes her way out of the room.

Jaskier chews his bread slowly, waiting. He will let Geralt speak first, let him decide where this conversation is going to go. Straightening his back, he takes another gulp of his drink and finally Geralt comes into his line of sight. With obvious discomfort the witcher sits across from him.

“You’re awake then.”

“Obviously, Geralt. I am sitting up and eating, or is this a dream?” His lips pull up in a half-hearted smile. He’s too tired to pretend but he will do what he needs to to put Geralt at ease.

“Right. Yes.” Geralt coughs and oh gods, he can’t do this.

“You seem…. Unnerved, my friend.” He winces internally as Geralt makes eye contact with him and just as fast breaks it. Well Jaskier, way to act normal. He closes his eyes and scrubs at his face.

“You almost died.”

“I remember and its far from the first time.” Geralt stares at him and the words catch up with him. He comprehends them and wants to go hide in the folds of the blankets. The silence stretches long and tense between them. It’s uncomfortable in a way it hasn’t been in a long time. Jaskier catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror and notes the slight wrinkles around his eyes, the way his hair is gathering grey at the temples. He shifts, winces at the slight pain, and thinks, better to have said something now than live to regret it, I suppose. He watches Geralt watch him from time to time, face impassive and unreadable, and finally he drops his gaze from golden irises. Geralt will speak when he is ready, and in this Jaskier will not push him for an answer, only… he can’t quite keep his mouth shut.

“Like you said, I was dying, and I know I was feverish. We can pretend nothing was said if you like. We're good at that. At pretending. So why don’t we just move on? It’s not like we haven’t pretended in the past.” He manages, and his voice sounds weak, disappointed, even to him.

“It did happen.”

“Yes, but I’m saying if you want to pretend it didn’t then say so. Look, I was dying, I didn’t really think I’d be alive to deal with the repercussions of my words.” He flicks his eyes up to Geralts and freezes. Geralt looks vulnerable, like he’s battling something inside himself and he thinks he should look away but he can’t make his eyes obey.

“Did you mean it?” Jaskier almost misses the question, caught completely off guard by the earnestness in Geralts tone.

It takes him a long time to answer. Not because he doesn’t know the answer, but because he is trying to choose his words wisely. He opens his mouth and closes it more times than he likes to admit and holds up his hand to stop Geralt interrupting him when the witcher tries to speak. Finally he does speak, slowly, as though he doesn’t really know the words he wants to say and hopes that they will instead flow from his mouth.

“I did. I do.” He takes a breath and perseveres, “But I think, what you mean is: How do I love you? What makes you different from any of my dalliances?” Geralt simply nods noncommittally.

“You are who I think of when I think of home. If you ask me where I want to be at any given time, the answer is always; with you. When we began traveling together, I counted the days to when I would go back to Oxenfurt for the winter to work on finishing the manuscripts I start in the summer. Now, at some point along the way, that shifted. It came full circle and all I can think about when I’m supposed to be teaching is where we’ll be going next. It’s consuming, and it’s not fair. It’s an ache and a longing, and a hope. I don’t know how to best answer you, for that much I am sorry.”

Geralt nods slowly at him, hums in understanding and they lapse back into quiet. It’s not as tense or uncomfortable as before, but it stretches nearly as long.

“And if that feeling were returned?” Geralt asks, looking right past him.

“I would have died happy.” It’s the best he can offer. To say more risks never traveling with the Witcher again. As it is, it wouldn’t completely surprise him if Geralt packed up Roach and took off. Told him to go back to Oxenfurt and never come back. He hopes that won’t be the case, that at worst Geralt goes along with pretending. At best, he hopes that the feeling is returned, that the question isn’t just cryptic, and curiosity fueled. Geralt sits straighter and rolls his shoulders.

“Triss says you need a few more days to recover and I still need to deal with the gryphon. You missed your competition.” Geralt says briskly as he stands.

“I imagined as much.” He responds dutifully, tries to keep the bitterness from his voice as Geralt leaves the room. He lets his head fall back and stares at the ceiling. It could have been worse, he tells himself, he could have sent you back to the university. For now we pretend, and that has to be enough. With a mournful sigh he gets to his feet and makes his way to the window, his food forgotten. Leaning against the wall he watches as Geralt prepares to go on his hunt. Idly, he wonders how long it will be until this all crumbles around him, tries to console himself to contentment as he soaks in the morning light. Summer is his favorite, but he worries this will be the last one that fits into the category as he watches Geralt ride out.

Happy (ISH) Epilogue:

The summer had continued in a kind of stale peace. They’re actions, hesitant and second guessed at every turn. Neither comfortable around the other. Awkward in each other's presence in a way they hadn’t been in years. Every dance and rhythm they had gone, replaced with missteps and uncertainty. More than once, Jaskier wonders if he should return to Oxenfurt, but he is greedy and if Geralt isn’t actively asking him to leave then he will stay. June fades into July, and July bleeds into August before they know it, and still they’ve only just begun to return to the familiarity of longstanding friendship.

The sun is setting, and the smell of their supper has settled heavy over their campsite when Geralt speaks softly across the fire. The Witchers voice is soft enough that Jaskier doesn’t realize he’s being spoken to right away, over the sound of his lute. He fumbles the strings at the oddity of it and blinks rapidly at Geralt. It was unusual for him to start the conversations, they had reverted back to Jaskier being the chattery one and Geralt being the monosyllabic one since their conversation.

“I’m sorry, what?” Geralt stares at him and shakes his head in what appears to be amusement. Jaskiers heart somersaults in his chest and he can’t help but be happy about it. Maybe normalcy is returning to their relationship.

“I said, there is a competition in Redania. Do you want to go?”

“Yes. Yes! Of course I want to go, Geralt!” He grins and strums a bold chord. Geralt shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the boisterousness of it all.

“Good. I thought… it would be nice. Since you missed the last big event.” Geralt mutters to him, as he stokes up the fire, carefully avoiding Jaskiers eyes.

“Wait,” He begins slowly, uncertainly, “You don’t have a contract that’s taking us to Redania? You’re offering to go simply for the competition? You’re not a doppler are you?” a laugh bubbles out of him by the end. Geralt glares, unfortunately, Jaskier grew an immunity to them almost immediately.

“I am not a doppler. Not that you would know one if it bit you on the ass, Bard. I’m certain I’ll find contracts as we travel.” The Witcher sighs and lies back on his bed roll.

“Why?” Jaskier asks, voice quiet. He knows Geralt has heard him, but he also knows maybe it’s pushing the boundaries a little. When no immediate answer comes, Jaskier lies down for the night too, watches as the stars come out and light the night sky. His eyes have grown heavy and he lets out a small yawn. When he’s settled and nearly asleep, Geralt finally answers, voice steady in the dark of night.

“So, you can die happy.”

He grins into his bag, Geralt was never one for words, but Jaskier has always been good at understanding what he means. It’s no secret to either of them, that Jaskiers days will end before Geralts unless some freak accident happens. And maybe, mentioning death isn’t the best way to say “I love you”, but nothing about them has ever made sense to anyone else.

#The Witcher #Geraskier #Prompt fill #Writing'#Fanfiction #Jaskier #Geralt #Triss'#I confessed my love for you because I thought I was dying but then I lived and now I need to deal.

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sonderthroughthestreets · 4 years

Text

Splitting Universes

Here is the sobbe fic that I wanted to write for their anniversary last friday but obviously im late for it lol

Someone said that Sander said “In every universe” because it comforts Robbe with his multiverse theory and that Robbe said “At least in this universe” because it comforts Sander who believes that life is what you choose to make of it. Sooooo, here is Sander painting on Robbe’s back while talking about the universe and brown-haired Sander asking Robbe to marry him. Hope you enjoy!

“Hold still, will you?” Sander’s voice faltered into a chuckle.

He was sitting on the floor, back to the edge of the bed, legs crossed, holding Robbe as he tried to glide his paintbrush across the skin on his back. The two of them had summer break before the start of the next year and they’d somehow found themselves fooling around, dancing in Sander’s room and finally settled into a spark of an idea in Robbe’s mind to let him paint his back. His shirt was gone and he’d sunk into the floor, crossing his legs too, leaning forward instead of letting himself lean back in the comfort of Sander’s arms.

“The paint is cold. I’m cold ok,” Robbe scoffed, turning his head to try to meet his eyes with a smile. But Sander smirked with half-lidded eyes and pushed his head back into place. He let out a breath of the tiniest laugh.

It was killing Robbe not to look at him. Especially not after he grew out his hair. Sander had cut it a few years ago and let it go back to its natural brown, let the bleach blond wash out and wash away. It was terribly short then, but now it had grown out in longer locks that he just had to style every morning. Today, it was tousled in a messy-but-every-hair-was-perfectly-in-place kind of way. It looked similar to when his hair was bleached but darker roots had replaced the white wash. Some days Robbe could swear he’d seen Sander like this his whole life and others he felt like he was looking at a whole new world.

He also wished that he could see his face right now, the concentration he wore when a creative mood strikes.

“Are you almost done?” Robbe asked.

“Not even close,” Sander answered, his fingers moving swiftly, changing between brushes and colours.

“Can you at least give me a hint?”

“Mmhhh,” he mused. “It’s something we talk about a lot.”

“That could literally be anything,” Robbe pouted. He wanted to know what Sander envisioned across his back.

“Let’s talk about it now,” he dipped his brush in water. “You think that when someone makes a decision, the universe splits itself,” he said. Nothing more. Silence as Robbe contemplated.

“You’re painting me the universe?” Robbe shifted to try to look back at him.

“Hold. still.” Sander gripped his shoulders.

“What kind of universe?” Robbe pondered. He lazily ran a finger down his own palm as he awaited his answer, the fan humming in the summer heat.

“I don’t know” he smiled, though Robbe couldn’t see it. “Any universe you want.”

The way he said that made Robbe smile too. The way that when he said it, he meant all the universes, that he could have any universe because in all of them, one way or another, they were together.

“Hhmmm,” Robbe murmured in contentment. He stared around Sander’s room: the Bowie posters spread across the walls, his camera laying on his disorganized desk, papers and drawing utensils scattered, his easel in the corner, the dresser off to the side, his clothes neatly folded on the bed. The open window let the warm breeze through and the sky made everything in his room glow the softest, palest blues, greys and greens. Robbe’s eyes finally landed on his shirt discarded on the hardwood floor and he felt shivers all over again as cold paint slid on his skin.

It was moments like these where they talked some, then fell into silence, talked some more and finally fell into each other’s touch that eased both their minds. Sander was very quiet now.

“What are you thinking?” Robbe asked.

A sort of sad smile crossed his face, one that he couldn’t see.

“Sander.”

And Sander knew that tone all too well. He delicately placed a hand on Robbe’s neck, softly smiled into his hair and kissed his head. Once, twice, a third time for good measure.

“Do you remember our first night at the hotel?” he asked softly.

“How could I forget?” Robbe sighed happily. But his fingers weren’t on him anymore and Robbe actually felt heat dissipate from behind him as Sander leaned back a bit. He turned his head the slightest, hesitant to look at him for fear he might actually ruin the work on his back. Robbe waited patiently. He recognized his insecurities at play but he wasn’t quite sure of what.

“I know that..” Sander started. “I know that that night I wasn’t...but I meant every word...and I know that I asked once already...”

He was grasping for courage to say what he wanted. Robbe knew he could be ever so confident in his words, even more so in his touch, but sometimes it faltered and he saw him sheepish and insecure. Things started to click in Robbe’s mind. They hadn’t exactly talked about this since that night. At least not seriously. It was always fun banter, like an inside joke or like the continuation of an ongoing plan that may or may not ever be seen through. They were so busy living in the moment, the future had seemed so far away.

It had been

“When we get married I’m painting everything in the house. We’re not buying prints”

“When we get married?”

“We’re getting married right now”

It had been

“Mr. Driesen”

“Oh, we’re married now?”

“In my mind we are”

It had been

“Do you think I should get another ring?”

“Depends. Do you want to be called Mr. Ijzermans?”

It had been

“You’re making croques again? Marry me”

“Okay”

Laughter and kisses always followed. Comfort in agreeing a million different ways was always found. But a concrete, tangible answer was never there.

Robbe understood now why Sander had seemed hesitant and unsure with all this talk of the universe and decisions. They’d been together for more than two years now yet they hadn’t really made official plans for marriage. They were still studying in uni which meant of course, they’d wait until after, but it was never a conversation that lasted very long. While Robbe had talked about all his theories, Sander had made sure to tell him that he’d choose him in every universe. But sometimes it seemed he became overwhelmed with that many versions of them and he didn’t want to think of a world where they might not choose each other every day. Robbe shifted his legs carefully and placed a hand on Sander’s knee, feeling the fabric of his shorts cling in the heat. A signal, a sign, a plea to carry on. They could both feel a nervousness set in, their hearts fluttering in this fleeting moment.

Sander sighed.

“Robbe Ijzermans” he said. “Will you marry m-“

He didn’t even get to utter the question before Robbe turned around, took his face in his hands and connected their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

When someone makes a decision, the universe splits itself.

Sander had a lot of time the past couple of years to think of this. Robbe loved to talk about the multiverse theory, the parallel universes, and the alternate dimensions. He talked his ear off about how each can be so different and in one he’d find himself being a skater or a gamer, in another he’d find himself studying anthropology, and in another he may even have gone to an elite school. Or more so maybe he could’ve been the one studying art instead. Or how he could be in one where he didn’t meet his friends, in one where he didn’t have to miss his mama so much growing up, or one where his dad made different choices. Choices. Decisions. It always came back to that. If we all made different decisions, life could’ve been very different, Robbe had said. And once we make a decision, there are two worlds, one where you chose one thing, another where you chose different.

Whether Sander wanted to admit it or not, that scared him a lot. It scared him to think there could be a world where he continued on with Britt or worse, one where he hadn’t met Robbe. And with each decision solidifying closer and closer a world where Sander and Robbe stay together, he had wondered if living in this universe was enough. If not thinking of the other worlds and staying here together was enough.

Robbe had soothed his worries, tapped the worry lines on his forehead, kissed his temple and had run fingers softly through his auburn hair. He had reminded him of his own theories of life becoming what you choose to make of it. He had reminded him that they were together in this universe.

But nothing was reminding him of that fact more than this kiss they were now sharing.

Sander’s fingers tangled in Robbe’s hair, now a bit longer and fluffier, his mouth softly tracing unspoken words into his lips. He felt Robbe’s hands slide from his face to his neck to grip his black t-shirt and pull them up as they both rose to their knees, a more comfortable position than before. They both let each other fill their lungs up in this hot, searing kiss, somehow both passionate and gentle. Sander breathed out as he broke apart first.

“Will you?” he teased.

“Yes,” Robbe pulled him in for another kiss. “Yes.”

And just like that a decision was made, a world was created.

Sander broke the kiss again.

“I don’t have a ring for you,” he smirked.

“I don’t care,” Robbe’s mouth etched up as he drew closer, searching his lips. Both of their eyes twinkled in an enticing, tantalizing manner. Instead Sander leaned back and smiled, standing up to get his ring from the dresser.

“Here,” he slipped it onto Robbe’s slender finger.

“Thank you. It doesn’t fit,” he snorted because sure enough, it was a little loose and sliding off his hand. This proposal was far from the real thing Sander had planned, especially since they were still students, struggling to keep afloat in the midst of studies and spending time together, but this moment was finally real.

As Sander took back the ring and slid it on his own hand, Robbe asked,

“Did you really paint the universe on my back?”

Right. He’d almost forgotten what prompted him to think about their future together in the first place.

“Come,” he tilted his head in the direction of the bathroom in the hall. He took Robbe’s hands and lead him to the mirror where he turned him around and showed him.

It was a galaxy of stars and sparkles, colours of blacks, dark purples, greens, pinks and blues all mixed into a combination of an ethereal light. It was everything Sander had been thinking about with Robbe. His fears, his doubts, his joy, his love.

“In every universe, right?” Sander entwined his fingers with Robbe as they both stared at his back in the reflection. Robbe took the time to stare at it a while longer.

“Yeah,” he said. Then he looked at Sander with dark, dilated eyes, squeezing his hand. “But especially in this universe, too.”

#wtfock #wtfam #thank you so much bianca for reading this over #💖#also this is probably like my first official fic ive written so sorry if it kinda sucks lol #fic #my fic #omg all my italicized words got unitalicized🤦‍♀️

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g0dspeeed · 3 years

Text

Unconditional Positive Regard, 4

To finally meet her, Adam Smasher feels relieved.

Well, kinda.

=====================

Intake

Towering over her with enough girth to block out the sunlight from the street windows was Adam and his dwindling patience. He could feel the hot coals of his temper start to heat up as the terrified receptionist tried desperately to avoid eye contact.

It would be simple, he thought. The only thing that separated his frame from her own was a large desk counter. With one hand he could flip it on her, break some bones and crush her skull if she kept stammering as stupidly as she was.

“Um, do you, do you have the extension number-”

So simple.

“If I don’t know her fucking name, then why would I know the extension number?” he snapped.

“R-Right, um. One, one moment, please, Mr. Smasher, sir.”

Red eyes rolled at her incompetence. Been in the building for less than five minutes and his composure was already diminishing. The receptionist worked quickly on the screen in front of her, her blue optics lighting up intermittently. His glare settled on the frozen form of the other receptionist. She, too, deterred her gaze away from his own and busied herself at her side of the counter.

Pitiful, he thought.

No spine.

“The, the only thing I can see in our calendar is a note about scheduling a future appointment, sir.”

“I know,” he breathed. “Make me an appointment with Services. Now.”

“Oh, we, um, we don’t typically do walk-in appointments-”

“Today you do.”

Adam’s cold stare ended any argument that the receptionist prepared to make.

She pressed a button on a switch board.

“Hi, I have a Mr. Adam Smasher here for a walk-in appoint-Yes, I know that, but he insists to be seen. Well, can you check? He’s at my desk…”

At the receptionist’s rising panic Adam couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Didn’t take much for that fear to kick in. Just a little physical presence and she was malleable to his whim.

A moment later, she ended her conversation and looked up at him with a weak smile.

“They said to wait in their lobby on the Services floor,” she stated.

Without so much as a thank you, Adam turned from the poor woman and headed towards the elevators. He smirked to himself as she exhaled behind him.

Even though the Arasaka Netrunner lacked proper access to the information he sought, Adam wasn’t planning to relent any time soon. For one, the job depended on it. Second, Adam knew that he simply would have to gain intel the more direct way, in an approach that was familiar, easy, and frankly more enjoyable.

Deep, deep, deep in the dark depths of his mind there lied a third reason. A reason that Adam would deny ‘til his dying breath if someone were bold enough to ask. A reason that sounded like curiosity, but actually teetered more so on the line between obsessive and slightly enamored.

But he would never admit that.

Not to a single soul.

The elevator doors opened on the Services floor, allowing the soothing fragrance of flowers to fill his senses. The lobby was empty like before, void of any witnesses as Adam stepped out of the elevator and approached the double doors. There was that same sense of determination in him, one that was resolute on getting this meeting over with and finally answering some of those damned questions that kept him up at night.

However, before he could grab the handle, the doors swung open. Out stepped the same doctor from before, Dr. Estrada, greeting him with that million-eddie smile.

Adam grimaced immediately at feeling the man’s positive attitude rolling off him like radiation.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Smasher,” said the doctor warmly. “May I call you Adam?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’m glad you decided to reschedule. Some of us were worried that you wouldn’t.”

Though annoyed, the doctor’s greeting also brought on a wave of confusion. The words as well as the man’s smile seemed oddly sincere. The doctor’s eyes held a friendliness in them with no hint of any fear or resentment from what occurred in the lobby during their first encounter. Another new kind of interaction, a change that was unsettling to the hardened merc. Those who were on the receiving end of Adam’s wrath seldom stuck around for a round two, let alone approached him with such confidence and genuineness that the man before him showed. Never broke eye contact. Never spoke in a small or mumbling voice laced with anxiety. There was a strong reminder of that initial meeting, however, one that the doctor would have a difficult time hiding. Ugly, purple bruises colored his neck in a pattern that matched the length of Adam’s fingers. His head moved stiffly.

“Have you deposited your weapons into our reservoir?” Dr. Estrada asked. When Adam didn’t respond, his hand gestured towards the reservoir unit and he added, “After they’re deposited, please also turn off your combat cyberware.”

A pause.

Adam squared his shoulders.

“And if I refuse to listen to this bullshit request?” Adam grumbled.

The doctor appeared to contemplate, as if truly mulling over Adam’s question.

“If you choose to refuse, that’s fine. We would have to reschedule for a different date.”

Another pause.

“To be honest,” continued Dr. Estrada, “You could walk in there completely ignoring our request without much issue. Our staff only has defensive cyberware programmed, and not even everyone has the full modifications so there wouldn’t be a lot of resistance. Not really anyone back there has any experience with combat, much less any violence other than that from who we work with, but…”

The man shrugged.

“She still wouldn’t see you,” Dr. Estrada concluded. “She keeps her word, keeps her promises, and when she sets an expectation, she won’t back down. Ever. And that’s just something you’re going to have to get used to, my friend.”

When it became clear that the doctor wasn’t going to offer anything more or elaborate, Adam found himself in disbelief. Again he felt unsettled. The words shocked him in their sincerity and his response, Adam’s own lack of anger or bitterness, was so foreign.

“Who the fuck is she-”

A loud scream cut through Adam’s words, upsetting the peaceful atmosphere of the floor. The doctor’s body stiffened and his hazel eyes lit up as he received new data.

Before the doctor could explain anything, another shriek ripped through the air, this time drawing out longer and with an even higher pitch.

Dr. Estrada’s smile vanished as he quickly exited through the double doors.

The whine of scraping metal echoed beyond the doorway, followed by the floor shaking as if something large and heavy was suddenly dropped.

From his place in the lobby, Adam could hear chaos build and build along the chatter of nervous voices that muttered and called out to one another in hushed tones.

Seeing that it was clear that the doctor wasn’t going to return anytime soon, Adam chose to cross the threshold.

The other side of the doors consisted of a large open space that was attached to several hallways and lined with tall windows. The space itself held many desks with computer screens and office supplies. Adam recognized some of the women from his first visit. Already appearing alarmed by whatever was happening, the sight of Adam Smasher stalking through their office certainly did not alleviate any of their fears. Before he could interrogate them, another scream rang out with enough volume to make him wince. He headed down the closest hall, towards the source of the dreadful noise.

At the hall’s end there was a group of concerned women, Dr. Estrada, and a couple in civilian clothes. The couple was holding hands, both looking more terrified than the others. All stood by an open door. Their postures were rigid.

Dr. Estrada acknowledged Adam as he approached the scene.

Again, before Adam could ask what the hell was happening, another scream cried out followed by a deep, shaky sob.

It was only then did Adam realize that the pained voice was that of a child.

Dr. Estrada motioned for the merc to come closer, though he pressed a finger to his lips as he did so. Adam complied, his eyes peeking into the open doorway to see what the commotion was about.

The room was destroyed. Absolutely torn apart. Books, papers, and other office supplies littered the floor, along with broken glass, a shattered computer monitor, and a large couch completely flipped over and on its side. One piece of framed art hung crookedly above a large dent in the wall, the metal bent and scuffed.

Small whimpers could be heard with breaks of short sobs in between. It was there amongst the wreckage and debris of the office did Adam see two forms huddled behind the flipped furniture. A small child, a girl, stood hiccupping in a pink, frilly dress. Her shoes were gone, but that wasn’t what made her so striking. All of her limbs were artificial, all new and polished chrome.

The girl couldn’t have been any more than five years old.

Her modified hands were gripped into tight fists at her side as she stood before the crouched body of the woman.

Her.

The woman with the golden eyes.

Adam swallowed at seeing her again.

How poorly his memory served in recalling their vibrancy.

Dressed casually in a pair of dark jeans and a graphic t-shirt, the woman spoke calmly to the child.

“You’re very sad that our time is over,” she said. “I see your tears.”

Once more, the girl cried out. Adam winced at the painful noise, but his attention never turned from the woman’s face. The woman did not react at all.

“I hear you,” she stated. “You don’t want to leave, but it is time to go home-”

“No!” yelled the girl. “I-I don’t wanna go home-”

“I know. I hear you, but our special time is over for today. I will see you next week-”

“No!”

The girl’s metal hands then reached out and grabbed the woman’s face. Those in the hallway gasped.

But Adam, without a second thought, stepped forward and completely entered the room.

Both the woman and the child quickly looked up and stared at the large merc as he stood before them.

The child’s anger disappeared, twisting into pure fear at the sight of Adam’s glowering presence. Her small hands detached from the woman’s face as she drew closer to the woman’s body for comfort.

“You’re okay,” chided the woman softly into the child’s hair. “He won’t hurt you.”

“He looks mean,” argued the girl, her wide eyes never turning from Adam’s scowl.

“He does,” agreed the woman, a hint of amusement in her own voice. “But know what else I see?”

With a raised finger, the woman pointed to Adam’s exposed arms.

“This man has a body like yours,” shared the woman tenderly. “See his arms? See his head? See his face? Some of his body is different, too, and that’s okay.”

She winked at Adam playfully. His scowl, though still very much present, weakened slightly at the unexpected act.

“Its time to go home,” the woman repeated, this time a firm tenor to her words. “You can choose to walk with me to the elevator or your parents can help you. You have a choice.”

Stare never leaving Adam, the child nodded her head and took the woman by the hand. As if leading her away from danger, the child pulled at the woman’s hand with a new urgency. The woman mouthed for Adam to wait in the room as she rejoined the others in the hall. The door closed behind them.

Mentally, Adam was already kicking himself over how easy it was for his focus to be deterred, let alone how he reacted to seeing her in person again. Why he decided to insert himself in the chaos with the child, he had no clue. Didn’t give a fuck about children. So long as they stayed the hell away from him, there would be no issue. But something disturbed him in seeing how the child grabbed her, how the woman contained the pain she felt in the child’s sudden hold on her face.

The woman’s words and how they were said weren’t lost on Adam either. Not one bit. How this woman was able to deescalate tense situations and how similar her dialogue with the child was to their own exchange in the lobby infuriated him.

Is that how she perceived him?

Like that of a child?

“Sorry about that.”

Angry red eyes fell upon the woman as she closed the door behind her and began tip-toeing through the mess in the office. A small smile touched her full lips as she went to stand behind a metal desk.

“Sometimes its hard to go,” she continued with a shrug. “And although I appreciate your desire to help, please don’t interfere next time.”

Adam scoffed.

“I’ll do what I want.”

Sensing his attitude, the woman’s smile flattened into a pressed line.

“Yeah, I know, Adam,” she returned. “I know that you’ll do whatever you want. Which is why I’m glad you decided to come back so we can go over how exactly this all will work out.”

“’Bout fucking time,” he groused.

To his surprise, the woman scoffed and shook her head.

Adam immediately crossed the room to stand over her. He savored how far she had to crane her head up to meet his eyes.

“Something I say amuse you?” he challenged darkly.

What he expected was her instant submission.

What he expected was her to avert her eyes like everyone else, to deny she did anything or apologize altogether, and to wait for his next command.

What he didn’t expect was what came next.

“Yes, actually,” she stated, not even hesitating to pay back his hard stare with one of her own. “Yes, I find it amusing that you’re so inconvenienced by your own stubbornness and are trying to blame me for it. You had the choice to cooperate with our policy and chose to strangle my colleague because we held up our expectation, then you have the nerve to come into my workplace, my office, demand for an appointment, and then proceed to complain because of the stalling that you yourself created. Does this normally work for you? This whole standing-over-me-tough-guy routine? Because I can do this all damn day. I really can. Know why? Because I do do this all damn day, but last I checked we both are pretty busy adults and I’d like to not have my time wasted by your outdated ways of handling things. Or is this some kind of foreplay to you?”

Oh.

Oh, where was he to begin with that?

It took every ounce of patience and self-control to not pick her up and shove her against a wall. No one spoke to him like that. No one questioned him the way she did, whether there was some truth to her words or not. Fortunately for her, she was named as a person of importance to Arasaka. Fortunately for her, there were still many questions that she held the answers to, her value in that light being the only reason she still breathed and was alive to argue with him.

“Who,” he began, his voice low and tightly controlled. “The fuck are you?”

A smile, one that hinted at some little victory, he figured, one that somehow made Adam even angrier, pulled at her lips.

“Bothered you, didn’t it?” she said. “Thought it would. You’re not used to waiting-”

“Answer me-”

“I’m Lumen,” she answered. “Dr. Lumen Furi.”

Not bothering to wait for his reply, the woman stepped away from the desk and began tidying up the office. Adam watched as she began making small piles of all the trash and debris, his anger still very much pulsing through his body. Anger from how she was talking to him, how she dared to tease him and make smartass comments in response to his voiced frustration. That anger was there, true, but more so was Adam upset with himself for how he allowed it and how learning her actual name brought some relief.

“The contract,” began Lumen. “Is one that I don’t really like.”

“What is it?”

A sigh.

Her face wore a look of disdain as she turned to speak to the merc.

“I’m conducting research on cyberpsychosis and crisis intervention,” she said. “I want to know if mental health crises are related to cyberpsychosis and even though I think it is, its 2070 and people still think that it’s just a hardware problem. They’re not looking at it seriously, at least not from a mental health standpoint, so I need hard data to prove my theory. And that’s where you come in.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Myself, Dr. Estrada, and some of the other researchers will be working with law enforcement and a Trauma Team convoy to provide crisis support to different neighborhoods in Night City. As you can imagine, it can be pretty risky work and we’re sorta ‘ride alongs’. Trauma Team has enough on their plate and covering our asses isn’t something they need to be concerned about. Arasaka is already backing our research, so-”

“Why?”

She shrugged.

“I guess they want in on the medical market? Not entirely sure. Don’t really care. What I do know is that they offered your services to aid in our groundwork.”

“In security.”

“Yep.”

“For how long?”

“Three months, once or twice a week, depending on the city region and time of day. Starting next week now that you decided to show up.”

His tempter bristled at the snarkiness in that last comment, but he decidedly shifted his focus to the contract instead. The jobs that he detested the most were that of security or protective services. He’d prefer that the only ass he cover was his own, and often the target was too slow, dumb, or fragile to make his job any easier. Although the woman appeared to be in good shape and proved her intelligence in their limited interactions, her ability to defend herself wasn’t clear, not yet. If anything, all she proved to him was that she enjoyed throwing herself in the middle of dangerous situations, a trait that wasn’t valuable to her new bodyguard.

“Fine.”

The word caused the woman to perk up. The sight entertained him.

“But I have limits,” he added. “Hard ones. And if you refuse to abide by them, you’ll either die or this contract is null.”

Her arms crossed, but she looked at him with expectation.

“Going to teach you some basic self-defense so you don’t get yourself killed. Until you do that with me then I won’t allow you to go into the field. Period. Next, I want to know what cyberware you do have and outfit you with defensive cyberware should anyone get too close.”

“Isn’t that your job?” she quipped. “To make sure no one gets ‘too close’?”

“Something tells me that you’ll fuck it all up and I’m not about to let you ruin this for me.”

He caught it. Small, but he saw that flash of rebellion, that grain of resistance, before she checked herself and pursed those lips shut.

“Last,” continued Adam. “You get a tracker.”

“Why-”

“Because I fucking said so. That’s why.”

The two stared at one another with enough intensity to start a fire. She didn’t balk at his stature, nor at how harshly his eyes took her in.

“Might I suggest a compromise?” she questioned.

“I don’t do compromises-”

“Humor me.”

When he didn’t argue, she resumed.

“If I have to have a babysitter, then I also would like a tracker for you.”

“What good-”

“Because I fucking said so.”

At that, Adam couldn’t help himself. He stomped towards her with enough force that she stepped back, pressing herself against the desk. His frame enveloped hers, all black camouflage and large arms caging her in on either side of her hips. Sitting on top of the desk, she gaped with wide eyes up at the furious mercenary, his face inches from hers as he towered over her body in muted rage.

“This is my job, my fucking ass on the line, and I’m not letting anyone, anybody, fuck up all the shit I had to do to get where I am,” he declared, voice shaking. “I don’t give a shit about who you think you are, I’m the one who says how this contract will go. Me!”

That’s it, he thought, his eyes unashamedly studying every curve and how that primal fear shattered that confident front of hers.

That’s what he liked to see.

The fear.

The uncertainty.

He got drunk on it, finally, the sight of her weakness, the proof that she was like everyone else.

Standing so close to her body, Adam picked up on the deep notes of her perfume.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, a new lowness coating his voice. His body shifted to stand more directly between her knees, causing her legs to spread. “Is this that ‘foreplay’ you were bitching about, Lumen?”

No response came from her at first.

Nothing.

Nothing new for him to be challenged with.

Nothing special.

But just as he felt that familiar burst of empowerment swell in his chest, the woman did something to instantly snuff it out.

Gently.

Kindly.

With a soft hand, the woman reached up and cupped Adam’s face. His own hand shot up to grip her wrist, a hard warning. It was ignored. Completely ignored as her thumb lightly stroked his cheekbone with an easy slowness. He swallowed.

As his smirk fell as did the look of uncertainty from her own face. Golden eyes glittered with something warm, something that Adam couldn’t quite define. A raw energy hummed between them as she held him there, held him in a paradoxical space of peace and a primal urgency to do something more.

A small smile.

“I love your eyes,” her voice said in a near whisper. “Red. They fit you.”

Just as his mouth parted to reply, an incoming call crossed his HUD. Adam moved away from her and the desk as if her hand burned. Her smile remained as he answered the call, the client on the other end simply informing him that he was running behind and would be late to their scheduled appointment.

“I’ll see you next Wednesday,” stated that woman above the sound of the client’s words. “You can go.”

And that he did. Adam held his composure, but never has he left a client as quickly as he did that that day.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #adam smasher

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 4 years

Text

The Gift

(I’m giving some January weather ❄️ to the characters in my July ☀️. This prompt is incredibly sweet, and I realize it didn’t include a request for *coconuts*. That said, sexual content slipped into this fic regardless because ...Hayffie 🔥. Anyway, I hope the ending feels sweet enough to offset other intensities.)

***

After years of hiking up her skirts and unzipping bodices, loosening corsets and slipping them down just enough, unbuckling garters and sliding thongs to the side, they were playing now with nakedness.

Total nakedness.

It had happened a few times, and Effie was still adjusting to the sensations. The vulnerability of her skin fully against his was one thing. Her heart open to him was another.

Their first time face-to-face, unencumbered by clothing was intense. They started kissing and didn’t stop until they came, moaning into each other’s mouths. It was almost too much. The eroticism, the intimacy, the deliciousness all broke down her boundaries. Effie was definitely on board with nakedness DURING sex.

The textures AFTER still felt awkward to her. His body became a furnace, drenching her in sweat, especially when he’d been on top. And she loved having him on top. With her legs wrapped around him, she could take subtle control of the pace, the depth, their closeness.

Complete nakedness was freeing; it was also messy and overwhelming. Having sex with Haymitch had always been contending with chaos, but now...

Now.

“I need to breathe,” she gasped as the pulsing slowed inside her.

He thrust once more, milking the last drops of pleasure, then rolling off of her.

“Fuck. That was...”

“I know. ...God.”

Catching his breath, he slid his hand along her sternum, down to her waist where he curled his fingers around her side.

“Honey, don’t touch me right now. Your hands are sopping fire.”

He let go, still panting. “You’re hot too, sweetheart.”

An anxiety she didn’t understand crept over her. “EVERYTHING is wet. I need to take a shower. We need to change the sheets.”

He chuckled, “I’d say loosen your corset, but I already took it off.”

“Haymitch, don’t tease. You know this is new for me.”

He did know. “It’s kind of like taking your virginity.” He grinned. “Can’t help wanting you wet, and can’t help wanting to touch you when you’re like this.”

Effie scoffed at the notion of herself as a virgin. “That ship sailed over 20 years ago.” Lying apart, she’d cooled enough to reach for his hand and interlace their fingers. “But the sentiment is charming.”

He pulled her knuckles to his lips. “I’ve been a lot of things, but *charming* isn’t one.”

Effie shivered as the moisture evaporated from her skin. She went from hot to cold in body and emotions faster than he could flip a coin. He’d stopped trying to figure her out long ago.

“I’m going to go take a shower. Will you turn up the heater?”

“About that...” Haymitch hesitated, knowing she’d be pissed. “The heater wouldn’t turn on this morning.”

Effie sat straight up, dropped his hand and glared. He tried to stay focused on her eyes rather than the beads of sweat dripping between her breasts. His attention was divided.

“It’s January! There’s snow on the ground, and your heater is broken?! Couldn’t you have mentioned that detail BEFORE I got on the train? You could have come to my apartment instead, then we’d be warm right now!”

“We warmed up real good on our own, honey. ...Besides, the train was already halfway here by the time I woke up today.”

“So he says — an hour before we die from hypothermia!”

Haymitch reached for her waist again. His hand was still warm, and this time she welcomed the touch.

“Let’s take a shower and talk about all the things we can do tonight to prevent hypothermia.”

“You think this is amusing!”

“We have a fireplace, wood in the shed, a forest next door, and a town full of coal. This is 12. We can manage a weekend without a furnace.” He spoke gently, tracing circles on her hip.

Her anxiousness lessened, but she was still vexed at him for not waking up before noon and for not knowing how to repair a furnace. Though in all these years, annoyance had never stopped her from wanting more of him.

“The water better be warm.” She reached for his hand and pulled him up with her.

***

Effie’s teeth chattered later as she rummaged through her bag with towels wrapped around her body and her hair.

“I brought nothing warm to wear!”

Haymitch lazed on the edge of the bed, avoiding the spots where the sheets were still damp. “What about the 5 layers of clothes I took off when you walked through the door?”

“That’s outside attire.” Effie was miffed by his unyielding ignorance regarding even the most basic matters of fashion. A pair of leggings was the best she could find. “I wasn’t exactly planning on wearing much inside.”

“Sorry the furnace fucked up such a fine plan.” He was enjoying the view of her wearing nothing but towels, but he didn’t want her shaking, at least not from cold. “Let’s get you warm. Look through my drawers and wear anything you want. I’ll go make coffee and build a fire.”

Effie looked wary. She was all too familiar with the limits of his wardrobe. Though she did slip on his shirts when he left them at her place. They smelled like him and felt like him and, though she wouldn’t admit it, they helped ease the loneliness she always experienced after he’d gone.

He caressed her ass through the towel. “...Or you can just wear this all evening. You choose.”

She turned her head and kissed him as he passed her on his way out. She just got here, and she hated the loneliness she was already anticipating at the thought of leaving tomorrow. She refused to waste this time together fuming about a broken heater.

She closed each drawer quickly after opening it. “All your clothes are grey!” she hollered downstairs, “Grey is not even a color!”

He muttered under his breath, “Grey is too a goddamn color.” Then he hollered back up to her. “Feel free to stay in the towel!”

She opened the drawers again and dug deeper, determined to find something she hadn’t seen at first glance. A white sleeve poked out from between layers of grey. Effie pulled out the shirt and recognized it immediately, though she hadn’t seen it in years. He’d worn it the night before the third Quarter Quell — the first time he kissed her, as she was falling apart.

She slipped it on now over bare breasts and snuggled up in the memory and the scent of him. The shirt was soft and thin. She needed another layer, a sweater maybe. She kept digging.

In the back of the bottom drawer she felt something velvet and silky. A blazer perhaps? Reaping Day attire? Why would Haymitch of all people hold on to something like that? As she pulled it out, she realized it wasn’t a jacket but a shawl — a red velvet shawl, embroidered with swirls of golden thread and trimmed with silk. The fabric was old, smooth and beautiful. It smelled like cedar laid over memories.

Effie felt a degree of reverence as she slipped the shawl over her shoulders, hoping it wouldn’t fall apart. The construction proved to be sturdy, clearly hand-sewn by a talented seamster.

What meaning did this have for Haymitch to keep in a dresser in his bedroom? “Look through my drawers and wear anything you want,” he’d said. Could he possibly have meant this glorious piece of art? Effie intended to find out.

A pair of his thick woolen socks completed the ensemble with her leggings, his shirt, and the shawl. Effie blow dried her hair, and applied light layers of mascara and lipstick. Then she followed the fragrance of coffee downstairs.

The house was already warming up from the fire burning in the hearth. Haymitch was mixing their coffee with shots of bourbon and spoonfuls of honey and cream. With his back to her he asked, “Did you find some color?”

“That depends... Is this okay?”

***

He turned around and saw her.

He flashed back to winter mornings in the Seam when coal burned in the stove of his childhood. As the house grew warm, his mother would take off her shawl and drape it across the back of the rocking chair. His little brother would toddle out in footed pajamas, climb up in the chair and wrap up in the shawl.

“Careful, dear, that’s precious to Mama,” she’d say, “But not as precious as my boys.” She’d kiss Haymitch on his forehead as he brought eggs in from the goose house. “Wipe that snow off your boots before stepping off the mat. This house may not be much, but we don’t need to be entirely uncivilized. Then she’d sit with his brother in her lap and rock him a few times until the griddle was hot enough to fry the eggs.

When these kinds of memories showed up, they usually kicked him in the teeth, but Effie looking all beautiful softened the blow. A swallow of bourbon helped too.

“I wasn’t sure...” Seeing the pain now in his expression, she felt she’d made a mistake. “I can go change...”

He crossed the kitchen in three steps, kissed her forehead, then buried his face in her hair. He held her tight, and she returned the pressure of his embrace, feeling how much he needed this connection. She held him in silence, asking no questions.

“This is precious,” he said, not letting go of her.

“The shawl?”

He pulled back just enough to see her face, and nodded. “...But not as precious as my girl.”

My girl?... My girl... The words echoed in her chest. She felt them pushing and drawing out something new. “...Me?”

“Nobody else, sweetheart.”

For once in her life, Effie was speechless.

“No expectations,” Haymitch clarified, “I just don’t wanna feel this shit and pretend like I don’t.”

She’d loved him from her earliest memories, all the while pretending with other words and fucking other men who didn’t matter.

“I don’t want to pretend either.” She tasted the whiskey on his tongue. There was nothing simple about this. “I don’t want to be naked with anyone else. I don’t want anybody else inside me.”

He wanted to be inside her again, right now, on the sofa in front of the fire, but there was more to consider. “Are you warm enough? Did you eat on the train or are you hungry? Peeta brought over some fancy things.”

“Come here,” she said, easing away from him and moving toward the counter. She added a few items to the platter of Peeta’s croissants: butter, a knife, and the jar of honey. “Bring the drinks and follow me.”

Haymitch put the bottle of bourbon in the crook of his elbow and held the mugs of coffee in his hands.

She led them to the sofa. Mind reader, he thought.

She pulled an end table between them and the fireplace and laid down the platter. Before he could set the drinks beside it, she chastised him. “Coasters!”

“Coasters?” Fuck. She always did know how to delay a mood. “Not sure where they are.”

Effie went back to the kitchen and searched the cabinets for saucers. Those would substitute in a pinch. “We might be without central heating, but we don’t need to be entirely uncivilized.”

The coffee was still too hot to drink, so she curled up next to him on the sofa. He traced the golden swirls down her arm, caressing her through the velvet. “This shawl was my mother’s.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I wondered.”

“She sewed all of our clothes.”

“She was an incredible seamstress. This stitching is remarkable.”

“Nobody’s worn that in 30 years. ...I wrapped up in it once, after they were killed. But the memories were too painful, so I put it away. Never took it out again.”

“Haymitch...” She covered his hand with hers. “If I’d known, I never would have... Should I put it back?”

“No, honey. Such a pretty thing shouldn’t be in a drawer. You’re giving it life again.”

“Life has these ways of sleeping, you know? Sometimes I think there’s nothing left, and then suddenly it’s filling me up again.”

I feel it when you’re here, he didn’t say.

I don’t want to leave tomorrow, she didn’t say either.

They weren’t pretending, and they weren’t being entirely open either. Nakedness takes time to reach its full expression.

***

The next day Effie folded the shawl and laid it at the foot of the bed. She dressed in her layers of *outside attire* and took the train back to her heated apartment and her sleeping life.

She unzipped her bag and found inside a brown paper sack, haphazardly crumpled shut. On the outside, Haymitch had written, “Stay warm.”

Effie opened the sack more carefully than it had been closed. She pulled out a piece of notepaper folded in half. On the front he’d written, “For my girl.” She flipped the paper open, and the note within read, “It’s yours. Thanks for making me feel alive. — H”

She knew what she’d find at the bottom of the sack. Red velvet swirling with gold. She could barely see it through her tears. It held fragrances now of coffee and whiskey, croissants with honey, and Haymitch’s hands on her. She slipped the shawl over her shoulders. It was almost too much.

It was perfect.

#yep #i’m crying #hayffie #hayffie fanfiction #effie x haymitch #haymitch x effie #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #thg #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games #post-revolution #district 12 #effie in red #too much #HayffieFics

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slut-for-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Paint me yours || Part 2

Pairings: Artist!Taehyung x reader

Word count: 2k

Genre: smut, fluff, angst (in the following chapters)

Summary: You are an art college student who struggles with finances. Until one day, on an exhibition of the arising artist Kim Taehyung, when the same boy offers you a job as his model. Would it be just a simple job or would it complicate your life in ways you have never thought it would?

Warnings: None in this one

PART 1

A/N: I know, I know. Its been ages since I first posted part 1, but I was struggling with a lot of things and lack of inspiration of what and how to write it. Honestly, I am not even sure how this one turned out to be, at one point I was thinking of just posting the smut part, but part of me really wants to try and build this up with all the emotions I could put into the story. I hope you like it and please leave a comment as it will mean a lot to me :) Sorry for the mistakes you are gonna face!

Thrill. Surprise. Excitement. Nervousness. And all thanks to a small piece of paper.

“I will be looking forward to your answer, darling. ;)”

-K.T. Number: ********95

I’ve been playing with it for the last 5 days, 17 hours and… 39 minutes ruminating whether I should call him or not. Groaning in annoyance I throw it on the bed, next to me. Running my hands through my face and hair, I close my eyes in attempt to recall the events from that night.

‘I- um what?’ my brain was so slow in processing the information, that I didn’t even realize I had spoken out loud. He only chuckled. His hand disappeared in the inside pocket of his golden coat searching for something. My confused and taken-aback self was following his movements with the hope to grasp what was happening. His long and soft fingers soon showed, holding a small piece of paper. His other hand was already holding a pen and he scrabbled something on it.

‘I’d like to work with you dear.’ he announced while handing me the paper. My eyes were moving from his aristocratic hands to his soft hazel eyes as my mouth was opened slightly making me look like a fish out of the ocean.

He licked his lower lip, then bit it trying to prevent his smile when my body somehow decided to react at take the paper.

‘You are indeed an interesting person Ms. (Y/N). Unfortunately, I need to leave but I truly hope we meet soon.’ winking he turned around and slowly excited the room. This gave me the opportunity to observe him more. Even his walk was showing gracefulness and elegance. His head was held high, showing the confidence he had and to show the respect to the people who came to ‘contemplate’ his works. He was smiling, thanking to his guests, shaking hands with them. Once he disappeared I glanced at the slip of paper in my hands.

‘(Y/N)!’ the screaming and banging on my door brought me back in the reality. Although all of this happened almost a week ago my body still reacts to any memory of him. The thought of him smiling, makes me smile too, the way his piercing eyes were looking at me causes my heart to skip a beat, his laugh…oh god his laugh. Every single fucking time I recall that boxy and cute shape of his mouth when he laughs and the sparkles that reach his eyes… ‘(Y/N)!’

‘Stop banging on the damn door, I can hear you!’ I shout back angrily.

‘Then fucking answer.’ groaning I get up from the bed and go to open the door for my roommate.

‘What?’ crossing my arms in front of my chest I lean on the door frame.

‘Dear, why the attitude?’ she looks at me concerned, ‘Are you on your period?’

‘What? No! I-‘, inhaling I try to gather myself, ‘I just have a lot of projects to finish. Don’t worry. Why were you trying to knock my door off some seconds ago?’ her face changes from worry to sympathy and then to a big smile.

‘Oh yeah, about that…’ all of a sudden the smile disappears which confuses me.

‘Come on, spill the beans.’ I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with people.

‘I need you to leave for the night?’

‘Excuse you, I what?’ I really hope she is joking with me right now.

‘Look. I do not want to do it but Jackson is crashing here tonight and I-’, she stutters as she’s trying to explain me everything.

‘You want some time alone and blah blah blah. I get it Rose but I have nowhere to go, you do know that.’ I wanted to be angry, I really wanted but I just couldn’t.

Being an art student with almost no financial support is really hard. The money my mum sends me is never enough due to fact we both come from a poor country. She works her ass off every damn day to support my dreams. Some months ago I was kicked out of my old flat because I wasn’t able to pay the rent. Thank god I had Rose as one of my really close friends to offer me her place to crash for some time until I find a place. I was feeling bad enough that I wasn’t paying anything to her and god knows how many times the fact I’ve been living with her have ruined her plans. I even started working two jobs but balancing them with my projects is almost impossible, that’s why I had to quit one of them two weeks ago.

‘I know (Y/N) but it is Jackson’s birthday. I have planned everything. I really want it to be the best evening if you know what I mean.’

Taking a deep breath I answer her.

‘I will see what I can do.’, suddenly her face was beaming with happiness.

‘Gosh, you are the best (Y/N)!’ Rose hurried to hug me with the smile never leaving her face ‘I am gonna treat you with pancakes tomorrow. I know they are your favourite.’

After that she goes to her room, probably to start preparing for tonight. Sighing, I hold my head against the door the second I close it. I turned around and looked at my phone. 11:23 am. Good. Today is Friday, my day off of one of the jobs. Maybe I can call to get a night shift? It that way I will be out almost the whole night and come back in the morning when everything is finished. Perfect! Jumping with excitement I open my phone and search for my boss’ number.

‘Hello, Mr. Kim! It’s (Y/N)!’, I speak as soon as my boss picks up.

‘Oh, Hello there (Y/N)!’, his raspy voice greets me back. I am not gonna lie, I might have or might have not had a massive crush on him when I started working. What can I say? That man is quite a walking sex on legs and nobody can resist him, ‘It is strange, I was about to call you in an hour.’, he laughs drily which makes me uncomfortable immediately. I may have not worked there for a long time but I learned how to sense his mood as it is a fast changing one.

‘Is something wrong, sir? I wanted to ask if there is a chance about taking a night shift today. I know it is my free day but I kinda need it if-’

‘About that, dear…’, he cuts me off. There is a moment of silence on the phone before he speaks, ‘I think we might not need you anymore. Do not get me wrong, dear. You have been doing more than a great job, but at this point, with Jiso coming back after he accident, we are too many people and I cannot pay everyone the deserved salary or even separate the amount of work equally between everybody.’

‘And I was the last one to join, yeah… I get it why it is me.’, I sit down on my bed, trying to compose myself and not start crying on the phone with my fucking boss. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

‘I am really sorry, (Y/N)! You are amazing, but I can’t fire the others, most of them depend on it more’, yeah because I don’t, but decided to not state it out in anger, ‘I wanted to tell you weeks before this actually happens but I just couldn’t. You can come tomorrow to get your weekly salary with some compensation from us for the situation I put you in. I will try to contact some of my business friends and allies and see if they search for somebody and recommend you.’

‘That would be very nice, thank you, sir.’

‘Again, Sorry dear! I hope you have a nice day.’

‘Yeah…’, my first were clenched and I was ready to go and storm into his office and beat the hell out of him, ‘Have a nice day, too, sir!’, I did my best to fake the nicest tone I could before hanging up.

How the hell did this happen? My anger soon turned into panic and desperation. I cannot lose my job just like that. It is completely out of the blue. I need the money. I barely pull the two ends together, and I am not even paying for a place to stay. That is horrible. That is horrible. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t tell my mum that. She will make me go back and we are already deep in debt.

Inhale! Exhale! Inhale! Exhale! Deep breaths. Everything is going to be fine! Just breathe and think. Think (Y/N)! It is mid-term, almost every possible job has already been taken by the students. I struggles so much with finding this one and the money were so good. It was pure luck. I should not have quitted being a waitress. Oh, god I am so stupid!

In frustration I lay back on the bed with my hands covering my face. But as soon as I lay down something tickles my cheek. One of hands traces the spot in order to find what the hell is on my face. I turn around to see it when my fingers wrap around it. It is the small note from Taehyung. I smile a little bit at it. It was literally the only good thing that has happened to me in the past week…wait.

I sit up abruptly and stare at the note unbelievingly. Should I? I take my phone. What if he was just joking with you? I leave the phone. Why would he? He must have given me the note with a reason? Right? Right?! My insecurities and lack of common sense fight for the next seconds.

Jesus Christ, why is it so hard to decide?

Okay, let’s see. I can text him that I am considering the offer and that it will be temporary until I find a stable job. I heard models earn a lot for such sessions. Maybe It will be enough to keep me going for now? Gosh, I hope so.

My heart is ready to leave my chest when I unlock my phone and open the contacts to dial his number. My hands are shaking while trying to write it down.

Okay, now what? What should I text him?

Hello! It is (Y/N), the desperate broke girl you offer to model for you 5 days ago.

Okay, too much info! Come on, (Y/N)! Be professional. I try to delete it but, because I am (Y/N) and luck is never on my side, I click on the send button.

Shit! Fuck! The hell! Stupid bitch! I guess I just lost the job before even being able to get it. Great. Just fucking great. Should I at least try to somehow improve the situation? To make myself not look like a fucking loser? As if the last one is possible.

All of a sudden my phone starts ringing which put me in panic mode. It’s him. What do I do? What do I do?

‘Hello?’, I curse at myself how shaky and high-pitched my voice sounded.

‘Hello, dear!’, oh my sweet gosh, his voice sounded so much better than in the memories I had from that night. It was deep, smooth, feeling as though honey was running through my veins, ‘I did not think you would ever call.’, I can sense the smile in his voice.

‘Well, my schedule is kind of full’, I wish there was somebody there to slap me and pour some sense into me.

‘I am glad you found time for me then.’, he laughs and at this point I had the feeling my heart will just give up and stop beating, ‘Have you considered my offer?’

‘I- I kind of have some questions before we start a-’

‘Before we start?’, chuckling he continues, ‘I take that as a yes. When are you free to start my dear?’

‘Um, I guess today? But I want to know wh-’

‘That’s the best news I could hear today! How about you come tonight and we start? I will answer your questions and you will see what you should do and eventually if you want to stop, I will respect your decision.’

‘Well?’, he asks after some moments of silence which I didn’t even realize have slipped.

‘What time do you want me tonight?’

If you want to be tagged in the next parts, please let me know :) <3

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is0gild · 4 years

Text

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 25

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 5,952

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Feet? Pacing a hole in the floor.

Teeth? Chewing my thumbnail to the bloody nub.

Hair? Down and in open rebellion, unwilling to be braided even if its very life depended on it.

Door? Rapping with a soft knock from the other side.

Probably should go answer it.

Crossing my bedroom, I threw it open to find Lea standing there. I frowned up at him and said in complete and totally one hundred percent seriousness, "Let's run away together, right here, right now."

"Guh…" he blinked down at me, eyes wide, face seemingly still a bit red from all that sun he'd gotten out on the yacht earlier today. "...uh-huh, yeah, okay."

"Good!" I spun around and walked away, leaving the door open behind me for him to come in. Wringing my hands together and eyes darting about wildly, I went on, "We're going to need snickerdoodles. Lots of them."

"Snickerdoodles. Sure," he said slowly as I heard the door click shut. "Quick question: Why?"

My dress swished about my knees as my pacing resumed and my trembling fingers went back to my hair, once more trying to braid it. "They're Kai's favorite. Obviously."

"Oh obviously," he nodded, standing off to one side, hands on his hips as his eyes followed me, back and forth, back and forth. "Remind me again, Kai is…?"

"The butler. Keep up." My braid snagged. It was all wrong. I furiously tugged my hair free and started over again. "He'll be the first to come looking for us, so we need to take him out."

Lea pursed his lips to one side, eyes squinting. "...with snickerdoodles. A butler's one weakness. Like a moth to the flame, powerless to resist."

I stopped in my tracks, narrowing my eyes up at him. "...are you making fun of me?"

"Who, me? No, I would never!"

Holding him with my scowl for a second more, I at last relented with a nod and a huff before going back to patrolling the length of the rug. "Good. This is very, very serious business and is not to be taken lightly."

"Absolutely, the most serious," he agreed in earnest. "So the snickerdoodles…?"

"Will be used to leave a trail like breadcrumbs to lure Kai into my wardrobe where we'll then knock him unconscious, tie him up and lock him inside, giving us a good head start before anyone else realizes we're gone."

He was rubbing a curled finger over his lips, doing his damnedest to keep a straight face. "Right, sure, sure. It's so clear now, I dunno why I didn't think of it myself. I mean, c'mon, it's the only sane thing to do."

"Exactly!" No, no, that braid wouldn't do at all, it was a crooked mess! Growling, I yanked it out and started over yet again. "Then we can escape out my window. There's no trellis or anything to climb, but the drop's not far. Only thirty, maybe forty feet."

"Psh," his hand batted the air, "that all? No sweat."

"Then we can just hop in your car and- gah!" Seriously, what was wrong with my hair?! Why wouldn't it braid?! Was it broken?! I snarled, raking my clawed fingers through it over and over again, threatening to rip every last damn strand from the very roots and-

"Woah there, easy now," Lea said calmly, catching my hands in his and forcing them to be still. His firm grip was warm and soothing. "Why don't we just take a breather for a sec, huh?"

Glaring down at my feet, I just answered with a noncommittal shrug. Good enough for him, it seemed, for he was now guiding me over to my bed where he took a seat on the edge, drawing me down to sit beside him. Still holding my hands and tracing light circles along their backs with his thumbs, he tucked one leg up beneath him so he could turn to better face me.

"Now before ya rip yourself bald, why don'tcha just leave your hair to me while you tell me all about whatever it is that has you ready to book it for the hills?" Setting my hands down in my lap, he started to bring his up but they faltered midway towards my face, fingers curling slightly. "...may I?" he asked quietly.

I hesitated for a heartbeat before giving a single nod and turning away from him, sweeping my pale platinum locks back over my shoulder. There was a brief pause before I felt it. His long fingers stroking my hair, slow and gentle as they combed through it, carefully smoothing out whatever tangles I'd worked it into in my anxiety and frustration. It made my scalp tingle pleasantly and my eyes fluttered half closed.

"So talk to me. What's up?" I heard him ask.

His breathing, low and soft behind me, had a comforting rhythm to it and I swear I could feel a faint warmth radiating from his nearness. It settled my nerves somewhat as the nice little tugs and shifts to my hair continued. Tucking in my lower lip, I muttered, "I don't think I can do this anymore."

"Do what?" he pressed gently.

"Any of it!" I blurted out with a grimace. "My parents. The talk with them. This… this unbearable wait for the talk with them. My grandfather. The silent, angry death rays he keeps shooting out his eyes at me." The words were tumbling out of me faster and faster. "Anna. The way she won't talk to me. Why won't she talk to me?! What could possibly be wrong? What could I have possibly done? And then- and then there's the party! It's going to be a nightmare! A disaster, a-"

"Shh, it'll be okay." His voice was tender. Just hearing it loosened the knots in my stomach somewhat and eased my shallow breathing. His hands continued to thread my hair and I felt the bend of his finger brush against the base of my neck, causing a weird feeling to creep up my spine and making me shiver. His hands stilled momentarily, but then they set about their task once more, his tone even softer now, "Just… one lil party. Nothing to worry about. No big deal."

I puffed out a shaky breath, "But it is a big deal! Because it'll be a big party! Huge! Ginormous! So many people are going to be there, and I don't do people. I don't, I just… I can't! And these aren't just any people. Oh no, these are my relatives. Relatives who were at my wedding. You know, the one that didn't happen because I snuck out a window? They're all going to be staring at me and… and talking- no, whispering about me and treating me like some sort of, I don't know… freakshow. And just… what does one even wear when they're the friggin' social pariah of the soirée? What do they do with their hair? Their stupid, stupid hair that won't even-"

"Breathe," Lea told me.

A command, but a gentle one at that.

I scrunched up my face, but inhaled deeply and held it for a few seconds, closing my eyes and instead focusing on the sensation of his hands in my hair. Why was I even letting him do this? I hadn't even questioned it. But... it really was quite… pleasing, I'll give it that. I couldn't remember the last time I'd let someone touch it like this. Surely, not since I was a child. Surely, it'd been nice then too, but not quite like this. Not in the same way. This… I couldn't quite put a name to this… to the small tickle of a feeling blossoming inside my chest…

Sensing I had relaxed somewhat, he spoke again, "First of all, your hair's not stupid. In fact, pretty sure it has a PHD and graduated valedictorian. And I already told ya I got you covered in the hair department, so just put that outta your head, 'kay? Don't even think about it. Second of all, you'll wear whatever the hell you want to this dumb party and look like the goddamn belle of the ball and if anyone tries to talk shit, I'll knock their teeth out, got it?"

That earned him a tiny snerk from me.

"We don't even have to stay long," he said as his delightful ministrations to my hair continued. "We'll drop in, make an appearance, give gramps his birthday spankings or whatever, then ditch the place. Third of all, your sister will talk to you when she's ready. All you can do is let her know you're there for her. Fourth of all, your gramps and those lil death glares of his? Can go fuck themselves. Fifth of all-"

"How many more of these 'of alls' do you have?" I felt one corner of my mouth quirk.

"Shush, I'm on a roll here. Now where was I...? Ah! Fifth of all, this talk with your folks? That's all it is: a talk. Just words. They have no power over you, not anymore. And I'll be there to back you up the whole time. Anna too, I'm sure. No matter what's going on with her, she knows you need her. And if you don't like what your folks have to say and if they won't listen to you, then that's it. We can just leave. End of story."

I rolled my eyes with a flat, "Simple as that, huh?"

"Simple as that," he murmured, sounding a little distracted by his task. "Sixth of all… hm… never mind, there is no sixth of all. Covered everything with the first five. Any questions?"

My nose crinkled as I bit back a grin. "...would you really knock one of my relative's teeth out?"

"In a heartbeat. Send those pearly whites flying so high n' fast, they'd be like shooting stars across a night sky."

I pressed my folded fingers to my lips, muffling a little laugh. "Well, I suppose brutally assaulting other guests is certainly one excuse for ducking out of the party early."

"Good point," I could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'll keep that in my back pocket in case of emergency."

Just then, another knock came at my door. Gosh, I certainly was popular lately. I don't think I'd ever had so many visitors to my bedroom as I'd had over the past two days. I stood up to go answer it, hearing what suspiciously sounded like a small, almost inaudible sigh from Lea as my hair slipped free of his grasp.

Pulling the door open, I smiled when I saw who it was. "Mattias. It's been too long."

The man was tall and had friendly brown eyes lined with faint crows feet. His hair was short, frizzy and black that was just starting to show the first signs of greying, with a matching goatee to frame his grin. Bending at the waist into a tiny half bow, he greeted, "Little Miss Elsa. My, how you've grown."

Smile widening, I turned to find Lea had joined me at my side. "Lea, this is Mattias. He works for my grandfather." I actually had no idea what Mattias's exact job title was. Was he Grandfather's personal assistant? His bodyguard? His driver? His privately owned assassin? Okay, I was just joking about the last one… I think. Maybe he was all of the above. Or maybe none and he was actually something even more secretive and mysterious. All I knew was that Mattias had been under Grandfather's employ since I was very little and whatever it was he did or didn't do, he'd always treated me with nothing but kindness.

"Ah," Mattias breathed as his gaze shifted to Lea, eyes crinkling as he offered his hand, "and you must be the new paramour I've been hearing so much about."

Lea shook it, one side of his mouth twitching up. "All good things, I'm sure."

"All… verbose and fervent things said with great gusto," he tactfully replied.

"They usually are when it's me those things are about," Lea snorted.

Tipping my head to one side as I regarded Mattias, I asked, "Was there something you needed of me?"

His hands clasped behind his back. "I was actually looking to borrow your young gentleman here with regards to tonight's festivities."

"Oof, sorry man, I'm flattered, but already got a date for the evening," Lea said as he slid an arm around my shoulders.

"He's funny," Mattias declared brightly. "No wonder your grandfather is so… opinionated about him. But no, I meant I'm here to take you out in preparation for the ball."

Lea cocked an eyebrow. "...oh! You mean 'take out' as in get me snazzy new duds so I can get all dolled up for this lil shindig?"

Mattias's face fell suddenly stoic as an eerie calm came over him, "Or 'take out' as in make you disappear, never to be seen or heard from again." His hushed words were punctuated with a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence where I began to wonder if I actually hadn't been too far off with my assassin guess. But then he abruptly burst out into booming laughter, making both Lea and me jump. "I'm just kidding! My wife Halima says I need to lighten up and joke around more." Now he seemed to become a bit bashful as he asked hopefully, "How am I doing?"

I exchanged a brief glance with Lea, who then gave a weak chuckle. "Great! You'll have 'em all rolling on the floor during amateur hour at the comedy club." Reaching for the doorknob, he slowly started pushing it shut between Mattias and us as he called out a chipper, "Now, I'm just gonna close this for a real quick sec here, be right back!" As soon as it clicked shut, Lea gripped my arm as he hissed, "Do not under any circumstance leave me alone with that guy!"

Scoffing, I crossed my arms, "You're being silly, he's a very sweet man."

"Oh yeah, seems real nice for a psychopathic killer who could probably murder me seven different ways with a Tootsie Roll."

"He said he was kidding."

"Precisely what someone trynta off me would say," he muttered, glowering at my door.

My eyelids drooped, "Also precisely what someone who wasn't trying to off you would say. Besides, it's a good thing Grandfather sent him to assist you with this. I was so busy stressing out about myself, I completely forgot you probably had nothing to wear for tonight. What would you have even done, just shown up in jeans and a t-shirt?" I shook my head in amusement.

To that he just looked down, scratching a spot behind his ear with a soft, "Heh."

I stared blankly at him. "Oh my god, that's exactly what you were going to do."

"In my defense, it was gonna be one classy t-shirt."

"...the kind with a cartoon tux printed on the front?"

He grinned big, "Yeah! How'd you know?"

My finger pinched the bridge of my nose as I released a grumbling sigh. "Just go with Mattias so you can get fitted for a nice suit. Please."

"What about you?" he reached over, lightly rubbing my arm. "You all good now?"

"I'm… better now," I hugged myself with a small nod. "...you always seem to know just what to say to help calm me down. Thank you." I turned away, heading towards my vanity, "And thanks for-" I stopped as I looked in the mirror, my hand going to my blonde strands. My reflection frowned back at me. "Wait… you didn't even do anything with my hair." I narrowed my eyes on him, "Were you just playing with it this whole time?"

"Er…" he grinned innocently, rubbing at the nape of his neck and averting his gaze. "...no?" I fixed him with a dull look. "Seriously! I braided it!" One of my eyebrows arched. "Then I… unbraided it. But only to try a few other things with it, honest! Purely for research purposes! And it all led me to one conclusion. The results are in and it's unanimous: you should wear your hair," he rapped his fingers along the edge of my vanity in a drumroll, "down!"

I tilted my head slightly to the left. "...down?"

"Mm-hm! It's simple! It's bold! It's-"

Once again, a knock sounded at my door. "You two do remember I'm still waiting out here... right?" came Mattias's muffled voice from the other side.

With a tiny huff in my throat, I started pushing Lea back towards the door. "Will you just go with him already? He won't kill you, I promise."

"Fine, but if ya haven't heard from me in an hour, you come and rescue my sorry ass, got it? Oh, and El?" he dug in his heels, stopping us both as he brought his hands up to squeeze my shoulders with a smile. "About tonight, just… you do you. Whatever makes ya comfortable. Forget about what anyone else might say or think, 'kay?"

I stared back at him, searching his eyes for a second before looking away as I bit down into my bottom lip. "...I'll try."

Seemingly satisfied with that, Lea reached out to twist the doorknob and pull, greeting Mattias with, "Alright, cowboy, let's get this over with." Trailing his fingers down my arms to my hands, he took them both in his and raised them to press a kiss to each one, murmuring, "Until this evening, min kjæreste."

...I really shouldn't be surprised at this point that he had yet to run out of pet names.

I'd have to ask him what that one meant later.

Which, you know, was a totally crucial and vital piece of info to have before adding it to the ever growing mountainous stack of vetoes.

With that, he stepped out into the hallway where Mattias grinned and gave him a hearty slap on the back, forcing a grunt out of Lea as he closed the door behind him. I snorted quietly before moving back over to my vanity mirror, absently running my fingers through my hair as I stared at my reflection once more.

...down, huh?

...I think I could make that work.

"Well, well… don't you look a vision?"

"Thank you, Mattias," I smiled softly, resisting the urge to self-consciously hide behind my bedroom door. "You're looking rather dashing yourself."

He stood a little straighter, his hand smoothing the crisp lapel of his suit. "I do what I can. And I got your young man looking quite dapper as well, if I do say so myself."

"Speaking of, where is Lea?" I looked about the corridor, but it only further confirmed that Mattias had come to greet me at my door alone.

"I left him to await you in the foyer." He offered me his arm, "Shall I escort you, my dear?"

Taking a quick glance back into my room to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, I then nodded and closed the door behind me as I stepped out into the hallway, tucking my hand into his elbow. "Please. Lead the way." As we began to walk, I told him, "Thank you, by the way. For getting Lea ready and presentable for the evening."

"Was only doing as your grandfather asked of me," he brushed off. "I suspect he doesn't want him drawing anymore undue attention to himself than absolutely necessary."

I hummed a small laugh at that, "I think that may be a lost cause there."

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, grin widening. "...that boy of yours really won't stand a chance, you know. He'll be a goner the second he lays eyes on you."

"Stop, you're embarrassing me," I ducked my head to hide the faint blush creeping into my face as my fingers idly twisted at my diamond fringe earrings. Wearing them may have been a bad idea in retrospect as they were too tempting to fidget with in moments of anxiety. They dangled all the way down to my shoulders, which were bare in my floor length, high neck halter dress that was backless and a shade of midnight blue with subtle shimmers in the bodice - another garment that, like my beachwear, had just been left behind to gather dust in my wardrobe here long ago. My hair was sideswept, cascading down in loose curls in front of my right shoulder.

"If memory serves," Mattias was saying conversationally, "I don't believe you ever went to such lengths to look even half so stunning for your last suitor."

My face grew hotter as I muttered, "You must be mistaken."

Why would I put any more effort into my appearance for tonight than I had any other previous outings that had been with my ex? I had no reason to. Not for Lea. Not for the guy who was only a friend and merely just pretend dating me as a favor to help me out of a tight spot. Of course, Mattias wasn't privy to that last bit.

"Perhaps," he said lightly, falling silent for a few steps. Then, "Or perhaps it is just another small piece to the big mystery surrounding why he is your suitor no more."

The corners of my lips turned down. "...he and I weren't right, Mattias. This life, this world," I gestured to the expensive dress I was wearing, to the mansion walls around us, "...none of it was right. Not for me, anyway. I tried to pretend it was, tried to play the part for years. But I couldn't, not anymore. That's why I had to leave." I hesitated, eyes downcast. "I… don't really know what is right for me. I'm still trying to work that part out… but I feel like I'm much closer to figuring it out now than I ever was before when I was only living to please my parents."

He didn't respond right away, seeming to ponder my words for a moment. At last, he glanced over at me with a warm smile. "My father used to have a saying: Just when you think you found your way, life will throw you on a new path. Don't give up, take it one step at a time and just do the next right thing." Mattias pat my fingers curled around his arm, "It may take a while, but I know you'll sort it all out. You're now on the path you were meant to be on. In time, I'm sure your family will understand that as well."

I returned his smile with a tiny one of my own. "I hope so… thank you, Mattias."

"Of course, my dear." We at last came to a halt at the top of the stairs. "Now I leave you in the care of your gentleman caller who should be just at the foot of the-" he faltered mid-sentence as he looked down into the foyer, eyes growing round. Then he heaved a sigh, dragging a hand down his face as he grumbled, "...I swear he wasn't like this when I left a moment ago."

I followed his gaze to spot Lea on the bottom step. He was leaning with one elbow propped against the banister, eyes lowered as he inspected his (still pristine) black nail polish, so he hadn't noticed us yet. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he was wearing what looked to be a very nice black tux, so he should have made quite the debonair picture. Key word: should. However, his tie was undone and draped loose around his neck, his suit jacket was off and slung over his shoulder by his free hand, and the sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up to his elbows.

The cherry on top? Brace yourself, because there were actually two. The first was there was a small white stick poking out of the corner of his mouth as he sucked on something. Was that a lollipop? Pretty sure it was a lollipop. A friggin' lollipop. Why? Just… why? As for the second, I'll give you a few hints: they were pink, made of cheap plastic, perched on the bridge of one's nose, and utterly ridiculous. That's right: the heart sunglasses were back, making their encore performance on Lea's face.

Somehow, I got the feeling Grandfather would not be amused.

Just a hunch.

"Good luck with that," Mattias told me under his breath with a low snort as he walked off, presumably to go on ahead to the party.

My eyes fell on Lea once more, my fingers coming up to brush along my grin before I started to descend the stairs. "No," was all I said, though a laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it.

He glanced up at the sound of my voice, eyebrows bouncing as he smirked around the lollipop, surely with some cocky wisecrack just at the tip of his tongue. Instead however his gaze met mine and he froze, his eyes widening as all that came out was a, "Nnn…?"

I think he might have been trying to echo my 'no' there. But apparently a two-letter word was one more letter than he could currently handle.

I reached him, stopping on the step just above the one on which he stood. Fighting my grin now, I lifted my hands to remove the heart-shades and folded them shut. Then I held them up before his nose as I reiterated a firm but gentle, "No."

Lea just continued to stare at me, lollipop dangling from his slack-jawed gape and this close to falling out. "Nnn…"

My, how articulate he was this evening.

With a small huff through my nose, I set the glasses aside on the banister. Then I reached to take hold of the ends of his tie, flipping them up in front of his face with another, "No." With that, I set to work tying it for him. To be blunt, I actually kind of hated that I knew how to do this. It was just such an archaic and outdated practice, the woman fixing the tie for the man. But someone had to do it and part of me suspected Lea wouldn't even have the first clue how.

I could sense his eyes on me as I folded and looped the strip of fabric. I did my best to ignore it along with the heat I could feel creeping up the back of my neck now. What didn't help was when his hand slowly drifted up to start toying with the curled tips of my hair. Hitching my chin and stubbornly avoiding his gaze as I put all my focus into the tie, I murmured, "You know, you can quit it with the goofy lovestruck act. Mattias is gone, there's no one here to see it."

Coiling a pale tendril around his finger, he didn't speak right away and for a second I wondered if he had even heard me. Then came a hushed, "...you're beautiful..."

My heart jolted and my grip faltered, fumbling the tie and screwing it up. My eyes darted up to meet his, which were soft but also mixed with… something that was too intense and I quickly looked away again. With a little scowl, I started over with his tie, muttering, "Fine then, keep it up. See if I care." Hastily finishing the bowtie in silence, I hazarded a second, more cautious glance back up at him, frowning now. "...wow, you really fried out there on the yacht today, didn't you? Ever hear of sunscreen?" I asked, reaching a hand up for one of his super red cheeks.

He snatched it just as my fingertips had barely brushed along his skin. Then he blinked, finally knocking it off with the dazed routine as he released my hand so he could instead rub at the nape of his neck with a small chuckle. "Nah, I… I'm fine. I think it's just something funny with the, uh… the lighting in here, making me look burned when I'm really not. Yeah, that must be it!"

I gave him a dubious squint before looking down at my palm. Odd… I looked just as pale as ever under this light. Shrugging it off, I then stretched a hand out once more, this time to pluck the lollipop from his lips, accompanying it with yet another, "No." I caught a whiff of a very familiar scent and both eyebrows shot up my forehead as I looked at the candy. Then I held it up to him, "Is this why you smell like cinnamon all the time?"

His head rocked back slightly, one corner of his lips slowly turning up. "And how, pray tell, are you so intimately aware of what I smell like?"

My shoulders stiffened as just about every last bit of blood I had in me rushed straight up to my face. "I… well, I wouldn't say I'm intimately- I mean, that is... well, you're always hugging me and just, you know… i-it's kind of hard not to- It's not like I'm trying to- Not on purpose anyway, it just sort of… I just…"

The wicked curve to his lips widened further. "Yes? Do go on."

I narrowed my eyes on him. "Nevermind. Where did this thing even come from?" I asked, scrunching my nose up at the lollipop before looking for somewhere to get rid of it. I settled on tossing it into one of the two large urns decorating either side of the base of the staircase. Shh, no one would ever have to know.

He shrugged, still not wiping that stupid grin off his face. "We stopped at a place on the way to the tux fitting."

"And Mattias let you? He should've known better," I sighed, now tugging one of his sleeves down to his wrist with a tad more force than necessary and buttoning it.

"What can I say? I can be very persuasive."

I just gave a noncommittal "hm" as I straightened and fastened the other sleeve as well. Then I snagged his folded jacket from where he held it slung over his shoulder, lifting it with one more lightly chiding, "No." I began helping him shrug back into it.

A little tsk escaped him. "You're certainly a fan of that word right now."

Concentrating on getting his left arm into the other sleeve, I deadpanned, "And you're certainly a fan of finding every way imaginable to make me say it."

He snerked at that. Then, "Huh. Guess there's a first time for everything. Usually the ladies are trynta take the clothes off me, not the other way around."

My gaze snapped up to meet his with every intention of giving him the full blast of my withering stare. Instead I froze, expression blank at the sight that greeted me.

That of a lollipop stick once more jutting out the side of his tiny smirk.

I blinked. Then looked to the urn. Then back at him. My eyelids drooped. "Just how many of those do you have?"

His smile stretched from ear to ear. "Picked me up a whole pack! Gotta feed the addiction!"

I sighed, shaking my head before eyeing him up and down with a frown. "...where are you even hiding them all?"

Lea bent forward, the tip of his nose brushing against mine as his eyes hooded and he whispered, "Care to search me and find out?"

An icy grin pulled at my lips and I told him, "No." There's that word again. Confiscating this lollipop as well, I struck it up in front of his face and continued on in a deadly sweet tone, "If I catch you with another one of these tonight, I'll make you choke on it."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at me.

I scoffed, flinging the candy into the other urn. There. Now my parents had a matching set. My attention returned to Lea as I tipped my head to one side, giving him a final glance over now that I had him all put back together. "...you actually clean up rather handsomely. You know, when you're not being a total clown."

"Hadta do it," he puffed up his chest and tweaked his bowtie. "If you had been struck by the full might of my studliness in a tux right from the get go, you would've straight up swooned and come toppling down the stairs. Hadta ease ya into it for your own safety. You're welcome."

"How thoughtful," I rolled my eyes with a soft snort. Then I retrieved the heart-glasses from the banister once more, slipping them into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. "Now I'm giving these back to you since I know they're your new favorite toy and I'm trusting you not to put them back on at the party, okay?"

"Scout's honor," he chirped, holding up three fingers pressed together.

"Good," I smiled, straightening his lapels and smoothing my hand over his button-up to clear any creases. "Your shenanigans the other night in front of my parents and grandfather were one thing, but this party is something else entirely. You can't just-"

"El," he interrupted me, bringing his hand up. I almost thought it was going for my cheek, but it seemed to hesitate and shift over at the last second, giving my shoulder a squeeze instead. "I'll be on my best behavior. Count on it."

I nodded. "...thank you." I realized my hands were still smoothing, even though any wrinkles there may have been in his shirt were long gone.

Jesus criminy, Elsa, stop pawing at the man's chest already!

Quickly retracting my hands, I cleared my throat as my smile turned a touch awkward. "Right. So then… to the party?"

"Absolutely," he grinned, taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. He then led me down the last couple of steps and over to a corridor off on the left, striding with confidence.

I followed him wordlessly for a few steps. Then, "Do you have any idea where you're going?"

"Not a damn clue!" he said brightly.

With a tiny laugh, I informed him, "It's back the other way."

"Going the other way!" he announced, flipping us into a u-turn and marching off in the opposite direction.

Once we were on the right course, it wasn't hard for Lea to figure out where the ballroom was. He just had to follow the sound of the classic string music and murmur of voices drifting from the party. It wasn't long before we were approaching a massive set of double doors beyond which all the merrymaking could be spotted in glimpses.

That's when I started to hear it. The blood rushing in my ears. Every step closer to that entrance made my insides shrivel tighter and tighter, my breathing more rapid and shallow. Just outside the threshold, my feet stopped moving altogether.

Lea halted beside me, looking over at me in concern. He brought up his other hand to cover my own that was clutching at his arm, not saying anything. I didn't need him to. I just needed a minute to steel myself. Closing my eyes, I forced air into my lungs in one long, slow inhale through my nose. Then I released it just as gradually, feeling my nerves settle somewhat.

Was I ready for this?

No. Not even close.

But this was about as ready as I was ever going to get.

I looked up at him with a small nod. With that, we made our way inside.

Author's Note: I was originally going to put this build-up to the party AND the party itself all in the same chapter, but it just got TOO long for a single chapter - and that's coming from ME of all people, so that's saying something! So hope ya'll don't mind this slightly shorter update chocked full of fluff xP Anyhoo, Mattias made his cameo this chapter, yay! He was one of my faves from F2, such a sweetheart with his own moments of awkwardness :3 Minor fun fact: I had just finished playing TWEWY for the first time before I started writing this chapter and had been introduced to Koki - a character in that game that's basically an Axel-clone, at least in the sense that he's a redheaded kinda-sorta villain that's bursting at the seams with snark… guess which TWEWY character turned out to be fave xD Anyway, Koki is never seen without a lollipop the whole time, so the stupid thing with the lollipop this chapter got its inspiration from that xP Other minor fun fact: Elsa's dress is very, VERY loosely based on her dress from the Olaf's Frozen Adventure short - just get rid of the fur, sleeves, and back and turn it into a halter top and presto! Beautiful xD Also, her hairstyle is based off of some early Elsa concept art by Brittney Lee for the first Frozen movie (I’ll reblog it here some point soon!) and I just think the art is gorgeous and I had to use the hairstyle cuz oof… Ice Queen is pretty, yo!

Next chapter, Gramps' B-day Bonanza is officially in full swing! What new lil misadventures might the night bring? Who else might make an appearance? Will everything go smoothly or will there be trouble brewing at the ball? And just where IS Lea really hiding all those damn lil lollipops? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

“SWORD WITHOUT A SWORD”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

It was due to the little conversation with his subordinates that Shiotsu thought that it would not be suitable for him on his birthday.

It is the birthday of Minato's twin children, Hayato and Akito.

++++++++++

Minato's children, who will be in high school this spring, said, "I want a sword for my birthday."

"Sword?"

"Yes, "because we are already adults", we want a real sword like the one you are holding."

"Is it a skill control saber?"

Shiotsu's hand touched the handle of his waist.

"This is the equipment loaned to the members of "Scepter 4" under the authority of "Blue King". Just because you have the aptitude, you can't do it alone. Even more, for children…”

Minato nodded with a soft smile.

“Instead of being a hero, he just wanted to imitate an adult. It is not an appropriate treatment.”

"Oh, I see."

Shiotsu's shoulders lost their strength

"Then, as I recall, I can give him a small sword. Boys love those things.”

Minato shook his head slowly.

"Akito said the same thing, but I stopped him. I think those things are still early for our children.”

Minato's wife, Aki Minato, who is also the mother of the twins, is a woman who is part of the "Scepter 4" task force despite being a woman, and is what people in the field say she is "the great woman of Kintama". She often disagrees with her cautious husband.

"I see. If that happens, then it is a home schooling policy.”

Shiotsu bowed.

"Sorry. I told you."

"No... "Holding a knife gives you the responsibility and awareness of an adult". I think there is a reason for such an opinion. Akio also said, "Let's go buy a big one." However, I..."

With a gentle but determined will, Minato said...

"I want them to be ready to harm others a little later."

"I see."

Shiotsu nodded his head. As a single person, he has no idea when a boy is a young minor, an adult, or a child. He is not eligible to make a decision on this matter.

In addition, he regularly trusts the moderate and common sense of the man in front of him.

"So... I'm going to give him something else, not a sword."

"A matching fountain pen."

Minato stopped working on the paperwork and turned the pen around.

"The pen is stronger than the sword." I want you to do that.”

A few days after talking about it, he realized that Habari's birthday was near.

Daily, among "Scepter 4" members, including Shiotsu, there is little awareness of "birthday". Birthdays, birthday parties, birthday celebrations... He remembered after a long time in a conversation with Minato that there were such things in the world.

We look forward to our annual birthday and celebrate with our family members. Such acts belong to a peaceful daily life far from themselves. He behaves differently with sabers and always swaps lives. And a few times a month, he retires after one of his lives suffers. There will be no "happy birthday" on those days. Everyone thinks so out of the box.

But in reality, such "daily life" may be the most important.

The reason "Scepter 4" exists is to protect the everyday life of the general public. If you fight without knowing what to protect, the beast is no better. "Scepter 4", who controls Strains' crimes with his skill, is a law dog, and even a bloodhound is not a wild dog.

Everyday life as a general citizen, life as a person. We should not separate ourselves from such things.

In particular, he wants Habari, the Blue King, to be aware of this. Therefore, it is a "birthday" and a "gift". He wishes his actions could have some influence on what "Scepter 4" is like.

So what to give? It is not wrong to imitate Minato and give him a fountain pen, but he wonders if that is more suitable for Habari.

After hesitating for a few days, she decided on a paper knife.

"Sword" and "Judgment". Knife-shaped stationery. Although Shiotsu wants Habari to keep his society in harmony by exchanging letters and documents with other "kings" without depending on it as a base, he thought it was a tool that symbolized the ideal form of a "king".

Of course, the blade must have beauty and dignity as a sword, even if it is not sharp. In addition, I engrave the "Scepter 4" badge on the handle.

Also, as a result of ordering the materials and so on, the craftsman finished the job to the limit and received it directly on the birthday in the store. It was a bad setup that Shiotsu didn't have.

To make matters worse, there were several emergency dispatches on the crucial day, and not just Shiotsu himself but every member within range who might be called. The only one who was vacant was Zenjo Gouki, who was in the middle of the shift adjustment.

Kikuyodo is a cutlery store in Minokasabashi. They mainly sell kitchen knives and scissors, but he also handles art swords and half orders to artisans.

From Tsubakimon, it takes about 40 minutes by subway and on foot. He goes home, half a day of work.

"Well, don't take a detour. When you receive it, save it, and come directly here.”

Zenjo laughed at Shiotsu, who meticulously said that.

"Haha. It is like a child's messenger.”

"Younger than you."

Shiozu replied half angry.

"If I had another messenger, I wouldn't ask you."

"It is a configuration flaw."

"Yes…"

Zenjo laughed even more at Shiotsu, who was silent when he pointed at him.

"Don't worry like that. It is easy."

"Zenjo."

Shiotsu called out to him when he was walking away.

"This is for personal use. Change your clothes."

"I get it."

"I don't know, but don't take out a saber."

"Is it that bad?"

Zenjo looked back. Hit the saber handle with his hand,

"I will carry it in secret."

"Is there a good reason? Leave it here."

At this point, Shiotsu had made some mistakes. It was not the ultimate mistake, but it was causing an unexpected situation by creating a gap between internal and external routine actions.

An hour later, Zenjo met three members of the enemy clan, the "Purgatory", on the Minogasabashi shopping street.

++++++++++

Minogasabashi is far from the territory of "Purgatory" and is not considered a vigilante area. It was a coincidence that the members of "Purgatory" were there, and that one of them met with Zenjo.

Zenjo was attacked the moment he left the "Kikuyodo" store. One of the three was a strong enemy.

The man is now lying on his back after a fight where the shelves fell and the knives scattered.

A paper knife is stuck between the eyebrows to the base of the handle. Instant death.

"What did you do, Zenjo?"

Shiotsu screams when he arrives on the scene.

"I was attacked, so I decided to defend myself."

Zenjo replied. There are some burn marks on his body, but it is a minor injury.

"We both fought bare-handed, but this one was strong."

Zenjo pointed to the fallen man.

"If I didn't kill him, I was exhausted by this man's flame."

"Ah..."

"Calm down, Shiotsu."

A long-haired man emerged from behind Shiotsu, who was cluttering up his words. The "Blue King", Habari Jin.

Habari kneels beside the body and examines his head.

Sakeku Ryusei. You are an executive in "Purgatory". What do you have on your forehead?”

Zenjo answered Habari's question.

“It is an article commissioned by Shiotsu. It was an emergency, so I used it arbitrarily.”

He uses the fingers of both hands to indicate the length of the blade,

"This is a thin knife. There is no blade.”

"Paper knife? The handle has a small "Scepter 4" emblem engraved on it.”

"That's..."

The moment Shiotsu bets on explaining the situation,

"Oh, today is my birthday."

Habari said.

"But why a paper knife? The twins' birthdays are drawing near. They are high school students and want to stretch, but Minato does not accept it. When I heard it I said, why don't you give him a knife without a blade? It appears to be Shiotsu.”

Habari looked at Shiotsu and smiled coldly.

"The pen is stronger than the sword." I didn't think it was wrong.”

"Everything is my fault."

Shiotsu said.

"It is a boring idea that jeopardizes good articles and creates the cause of a collision with "Purgatory". If they demand a price, give me.”

"No, it's funny, Shiotsu."

Zenjo said.

"I killed this boy. If you gave it to him, it would be my neck.”

"By the way, you're out of proportion to the sake phrase."

"Then instead of changing, cut out a few more people and combine the ends of the book."

"Hahaha."

"That's enough!"

Shiotsu yelled at Habari and Zenjo, who were laughing at each other with unscrupulous jokes.

"I was told that this situation could trigger a large-scale conflict between clans... No, it could trigger the escape of "Red King" Genji Kagutsu.”

"Do you believe that?"

Habari said to control the sword curtain to Shiotsu.

"Purgatory" is the city of the relic, but for the city of the relic, what meaning does this man have?"

"He's an executive! Is it possible for an antisocial group to avoid retaliation if they killed one of its members?”

"No, Kagutsu Genji is not a man who works with both types. Nor is he a man who faces the demands of his subordinates. He is a lonely and uninhabited "King". To be honest, I can't read their behavior."

"That's interesting."

Habari hit Shiotsu's shoulder and asked him to take over.

"Don't worry so much, Shiotsu. Your gift was a last-minute rescue from Zenjo's life, and it also came with the neck of the enemy executive and interesting confirmation.”

Habari put a cross in place and applied a fist to the guy.

"It's a great birthday celebration."

Rather than answer the light talk, Shiotsu instructed his subordinates and began to compile the scene. Things are already beyond individual responsibility.

With a fearless smile and looking at the gap, Habari's brain begins to spin at full speed in an attempt to understand and respond to the situation.

The bomb called Kagutsu Genji may or may not explode right now, with tens of thousands of lives.

If the balance of fate begins to tip toward the worst, the one who can stop it is the power of the "Blue King."

It is impossible that the sword that holds the hand has no blade.

"I will return to base. If there is no profit.”

Shiotsu told Zenjo, that he was trying to start running.

"Use transport vehicles. Hurry up."

#k #k project #k stories #k fan clan #habari jin #shiotsu gen #zenjo goki #SCEPTER 4

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years

Text

I Can’t Eat Love Side Part 5- Queen Amerande (END)

Hey everyone, this is the final side part to the I Can’t Eat Love series. Thank you to everyone who has stuck through this whole process. I have loved writing it, loved answering the asks and hearing your thoughts on the characters and the stories. I cherished each message, comment, fan art... all of it!

Masterpost is linked here.

For the last time, please Enjoy!

__________________________________

In a previous life…

If I could have one wish in this life… No matter the cost, I would only use it for her happiness

“This is for you, dear. This necklace protects our family, brings good luck!” My mother smiled as she placed the golden chains around my neck. “My own mother told me that it can even grant wishes! So keep it with you in Reterand.”

I played with the small sapphire amulet, my mood which had been down becoming slightly better. “But mother, I don’t know the crown prince very well, what if he isn’t a good man?”

I hadn’t been happy since my engagement had been announced. Reterand was a good kingdom, the western neighbor to my country Giral. Even though I was a princess, and I had always known that my marriage would be political in nature … I couldn’t pretend I was excited to marry the man I had only met once before. I had even heard he had been previously engaged, and had broken off the relationship for this alliance. What kind of marriage could this be?

My mother shrugged sadly. “It’s hard to say, dear. I hope your marriage will be happy.” She seemed to be looking past me, “Find joy in other things, so that your happiness is not dependent on him. “

“…” I hugged my mother silently, wondering not for the first time if she and my father were happy.

__________________________________

I was married into the Reterand royalty, and less than a year later his father had stepped down. I was the Queen of a foreign nation.

And I was very lonely.

My husband was a cold, calculating man. He was polite, never raising his voice to me, but there was a distance between us that couldn’t be crossed. It was painful, it was regretful, but I had always known this was a possibility. I tried to find happiness within other things as my mother had suggested and kept up a cordial façade. Despite the coldness in our marriage, we attended to our duties as monarchs. I quickly gave birth to an heir, a boy we named Ronan after the previous king. I had a husband, a child, a family… it should have been one of the happiest times in my life.

But it was at that time that the King broke all that remained of the good sentiment I had held towards him, by forbidding me from raising our son.

“You’re too weak.” His voice was chilling, forcing me to step back despite my panic. “You’ll drag him down. He will learn from me, and the rest can be taught by the tutors.”

“HE’S MY CHILD!” I was screaming, all thought of etiquette and calm long forgotten. “HOW CAN YOU KEEP ME FROM HIM?!”

His face didn’t change despite the rage I showed. “He’s a future king before that. You may see him once a week for tea, but that is all.”

I wish that I had left him then, sometimes. Broken ties and returned home to Giral. But I stayed, refusing to leave my child behind. Hoping the restrictions would be relaxed with time.

I could only stand off to the side and watch my son be raised by others. Fortunately he grew up healthy and happy, although he seemed a little reckless and arrogant sometimes, even for such a small child. I felt guilty. I was too weak to defend my position as a mother. And so life went on. I thought I had buried my heart, given up on those maternal feelings to protect myself.

But then I met that girl.

__________________________________

“This is my daughter, Lenora.” Seline, a beautiful but cold woman, pushed a young girl about four or five years old out in front of her. I was wary at their approach. I had long since learned that she had been my husband’s former fiancé, and had married the Duke of Armeny instead. I was worried she might be seeking revenge, but as I studied her closely I was surprised. There was intense dislike in her gaze, but no hatred. She even seemed willing to curry favor with me, curtsying deeper than required by her rank.

“She is the same age as your son, Ronan.” These sly words broke me from my reverie. I looked up to see her glancing over at her husband with a haughty expression, as if expecting praise and adoration for her words. I realized quickly why Seline hadn’t been focused on me… she was too obsessed with herself. She was obviously hoping to gain favor and pampering by making her daughter the future Queen.

What a selfish woman. I opened my mouth to reject the hidden offer in her words.

“Hello!” A quiet voice caught me off guard, and I turned to face the small girl standing before me.

She had pretty features, framed by light curls. Her face was brightened by her intelligent, expressive eyes and her wide grin. She reached into a pocket in her dress pulling out something and holding it up to me with a shy look.

“Is this for me?” I asked softly, unsure of how to react. She nodded and opened her fingers to reveal a small stone.

A rock?

Lenora looked up at me, scuffing one foot against the floor nervously. “The prettiest stone I could find in our garden. I was going to keep it by my bed but…” She paused and then smiled brightly. “I want you to have it, since you’re pretty too!”

I took the rock from her, taken aback at how relieved she seemed just by me accepting her gift. How did her parents normally treat her? “Thank you, Lenora, I will treasure it.”

“YAY! I’m so happy you like it!” The small form flung herself into my arms. As the girl hugged me tightly, I felt a huge shift in my heart, the kind that left a person completely changed, never to be the same again.

I loved this girl.

“We should discuss an engagement.” I smiled down at Lenora, not caring about how Seline responded. This girl would be my daughter-in-law in the future, my family. I would stay by her, love her, and help raise her.

__________________________________

“You did well!” I patted Lenora on the back, watching her sympathetically. It had been a particularly brutal etiquette lesson. Her mother had attended, a fortunately rare occurrence but one that never failed to cause problems. Seline had watched the lesson with an impatient expression, speaking critically to Lenora over and over until Mrs. Rendler was forced to end the lesson early. I had been late, only catching the last few minutes but even that was enough to break my heart.

“It’s okay, mother is right…” Lenora stared down at her feet. “I’m useless.”

I pulled her into my arms, hugging her, “YOU ARE NOT USELESS! You are a wonderful girl, and I am so proud to have such a smart and kind daughter.” I had long since dropped the “in-law” and simply called her my own child now. It wasn’t like her real mother was around enough to care. “Keep working hard, but don’t hurt yourself. You’re doing very well.”

“Really?” The quiet hope in her face was hard to see. She should be confident, she was skilled, intelligent, and beautiful… but she couldn’t see any of it. Her family ignored her or used her, and my son hadn’t paid enough attention to notice how wonderful the girl he was supposed to marry was. Between all of them, they had buried her in self-doubt, keeping my compliments from being truly meaningful to her.

“I love you, dear. One day I will convince you how amazing you are.”

Lenora smiled, although the expression was slightly sad. “I love you too, Your Majesty.”

I felt a slight pain in my chest at the address. I wanted her to call me mother. But Seline had told the girl to never ignore etiquette and she was afraid of her disapproval. One day, however, when she married Ronan, she would be able to call me that without censure.

I looked forward to it.

__________________________________

“I’m so worthless!”

The girl was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor in her room. It was her 16th birthday, what should be a happy occasion, but she was alone and sad once more. I felt another burst of irritation at that foolish son of mine. He was obviously the one who had tripped during the dance, but had blamed the fall on her! I decided to lecture him again, but I felt a stab of fear in my heart that he was too arrogant to listen.

I was no longer sure if I had chosen the right path forward. I wanted Lenora to be happy and yet… I couldn’t break the engagement now. Her reputation would be ruined. Her parents were doing their best to throw away their own wealth and dignity, and all the girl had to depend on was her status as future Queen. What would happen if that were taken away?

Ronan grow up soon, he’s still young. He can still be a reliable man, a good husband to Lenora.

Sighing, I sat down next to her on the ground and held her, one hand patting her back.

“I love you, and I always will. No matter what.” I didn’t know what else to say. After a long while she finally calmed down, and I smiled, helping her wipe away her tears. Thinking for a moment I retrieved the present I had planned on giving to her today, handing it over quietly.

The sapphire necklace, my family heirloom.

I took in her shocked face with glee. Lenora had seen this necklace as a young girl and had loved it, often asking to take it out and look at it. I had once thought to give it to her after she married Ronan, after she became my daughter-in-law, but had recently changed my mind. I no longer knew for certain what the future might hold, but I did know this: Lenora would always be my daughter, and therefore should have this necklace whether she married Ronan or not.

I hope it brings you happiness dear. If it does grant wishes, that is my only one. I didn’t say it out loud though, but kept in my heart a bright hope for what the future might bring.

__________________________________

“What did you say?” I grabbed the servant’s arm weakly, looking up at him with a horrified expression.

“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” He stammered, looking terrified. “But Prince Ronan has already broken the engagement with Lady Lenora at his birthday party, and announced his engagement to another.”

“How could this…?” I groaned, a stabbing pain in my stomach making it difficult to think. I had become sick the night before my son’s birthday party, and had been bedridden for the past four or five days. I had only now been well enough to ask after Lenora, and was now shocked at what I had heard.

I had tried to bring them together. Trading my weekly tea time with Ronan to the King , I only asked in return that the prince would spend that with Lenora instead. I hoped that if he saw her and spoke with her more, he might learn how wonderful she was. It was a simple thought, perhaps a naïve one, but it was all I could do.

And now it was too late

The engagement had been broken five days ago. What had Lenora suffered in that time? I knew all too well how cruel the nobility could be. Having lost her status, with no one to protect her…

I needed to see her, now.

I was still weak, every muscle in my body screaming in pain as I pushed myself out of bed. The servants tried to stop me, protesting that I was too ill to travel, but I ignored them. Pushing my way out, I struggled to stay awake on the carriage ride over.

“Your Majesty.” A grim faced young woman, who I recognized as Lenora’s personal maid, met me at the gate.

“How is Lenora?” I pushed the words out, feeling nauseous from the carriage ride.

“She is… very upset.”

“I need to see her.” I shook my head to clear it, and started to walk forwards, only to be stopped by the maid.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” She looked regretful. “Miss gave very specific orders that she didn’t want to see you.”

“You must be mistaken.”

The lady’s maid didn’t seem too bothered by my irritated tone. She leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially “She’s very angry, I’m afraid. I overheard the Miss say that you reminded her of Prince Ronan, and seeing you would only cause her pain.”

She doesn’t want to see me? It didn’t seem right. I wished I were more clear-headed, but the illness still had a strong grip on me. Barely able to move, I returned to my carriage and my rooms, feeling heartbroken.

__________________________________

It took weeks for me to fully recover. During that time I sent countless letters to Lenora. But they were never answered. I tried a few more times to visit, but was rejected at the gate by her maid each time. I missed her dearly, worried for her constantly, but still she avoided me.

The Duchy of Armeny was buried in debt. I was forbidden from interfering, but in return I was guaranteed that Lenora and her parents would be allowed a small place to live. At least she wouldn’t be out on the streets. I tried again to contact her before she left, but my letter was ignored as always.

I was alone, so lonely that the feeling seemed to carve itself deeper into my heart, taking over my soul. Trying to comfort myself, I tried to feel reassured that Lenora would be okay, even if she didn’t have me by her side.

Your daughter is smart and resourceful. Even if she hates you, even if she doesn’t want your help, she will find her own way.

Even if it took some time for her to heal, I would be patient. I would see her again. We could be together again. I just needed to wait a little longer.

She just needed a little more time.

__________________________________

“Lenora’s dead.”

Edith, my son’s new fiancé, gave me the news with a casual smile. I stared back at her, the words rang in my head, repeating over and over until they became nonsensical sounds.

Dead? It didn’t make any sense. Lenora couldn’t be dead. She was a perfectly healthy girl, with a long life ahead of her.

“They found her body this morning.” She continued talking, but I couldn’t hear her. My ears were ringing, darkness closing in around me. I felt two servants grab my arms, trying to support me, but I could only hang helplessly against them.

“Lenora’s dead?” The words sounded wrong as soon as I spoke them. She couldn’t be dead. My daughter, my beloved girl… gone forever? I shook my head, but the dizziness grew worse. I heard horrifying screams of agony, barely recognizing that they were coming from my own throat.

“Lenora.” I tried to call out her name, but even that sound was taken from me as everything faded into darkness.

__________________________________

My world closed around me that day.

I kept to my rooms, sitting at my window. I barred all from my presence other than the butler Hallers. At first I meant to drive him out as well, but seeing the pain and grief in his eyes, and realizing that he had known Lenora as well, I let him stay and serve me. He forced me to eat and drink, keeping me alive when I might have otherwise faded into shadows.

I couldn’t move on. I was crippled with guilt. If only I hadn’t engaged Lenora to my son, setting her up for this fall. If only I had raised my son into a man who wouldn’t toss her away so cruelly, leaving her vulnerable. If only I hadn’t been sick that day, and could have protected her. If only I had insisted on seeing her, no matter how much she hated me and tried to keep me away. If only I had forced my way in, broken down her front door even, and protected her.

If only, if only, if only…

Time passed, but I remained unaware. I ignored all requests from my husband to come out of mourning. That girl Edith came by multiple times, trying to curry favor, but I refused to see her. I couldn’t forget how she smiled the day she told me Lenora was dead. Even if I were to leave my rooms, I planned to avoid her.

Then I fell ill. I had been sick multiple times since I had secluded myself away, always small illnesses that could be resolved with a few medicines and rest, but this time…

I was dying.

I stayed in my bed, a blood stained handkerchief clutched in a weakened hand. At first I had only noticed small drops of blood in what I had coughed up, but it grew worse with each passing hour. There should have been a doctor called, but no one came even as I weakened.

“Hello Mother.”

Edith walked in with an odd smile. I tried to sit up but fell back, too weak to complete the motion, and so glared at her instead.

“I’m not your mother.”

“Really?” she didn’t seem put off by my cold tone, in fact, she smiled and brought up a chair to sit by my bed. “Didn’t you once want Lenora to call you that? Now that I’m your daughter-in-law, shouldn’t I be the one to call you that instead?”

I felt an odd sense of panic. “Don’t speak her name.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Your Majesty, as she is the reason I came here today.” She tossed an object onto my lap, and with a shock I recognized it. The sapphire necklace. The family heirloom I had given to Lenora. When I had Hallers investigate to confirm her death, he had reported that it was thought to be stolen at that time. So how was it here?

“Lenora sold it for a loaf of bread just recently.” Edith laughed, the sound odd and distorted. “She had held onto right until the end, you know? I thought she would have broken long before that.”

“Lenora…” I stared at the jewelry in my hand, a brief hope flaring within me. “She’s alive…?”

“Not anymore.” Edith laughed as my expression fell, my heart breaking once again within my chest. “She died this morning, of starvation. I saw her body myself before having them throw it into the forest to be food for the animals.”

“This morning…?” My head was spinning, it was difficult to think straight. “But she died a long time ago…”

“Oh, that was a lie. I tricked you with another girl’s corpse. She’s been lost and alone without friends and family for over a year now.”

Her voice was calm, as if discussing the weather, but the unnatural light of excitement in her gaze gave her true feelings away.

“I convinced her that you abandoned her, despised her. Lenora had always held onto the hope that you still cared about her, but even that was eventually broken into pieces.” She laughed again, and I flinched, filled with horror at her words.

Lenora had been living all this time. Starving. Thinking that I despised her.

It was too painful to bear. I gripped the necklace tightly, my thinned skin tearing against the hard edge of the amulet, bright red blood staining my palm and the jewelry alike.

“Why?” I could barely force out a whisper. I felt even weaker, as if my spirit was breaking along side my body, any will I had to move forward drained from me.

“Because she was a thief who took my place.” Her smile was terrifying, filled with madness. “I was meant to be the Duke’s beloved daughter. I should have been pampered and loved! I was supposed to be engaged to your son and you were supposed to love ME!”

She was shouting at the end, the chair she had been sitting on kicked to the floor as she leaned over me. “But you refused to even look at me after your precious Lenora was gone! I gave you so many chances, but you threw them all away!”

She drew closer, whispering in my ear. “That’s why it’s too late now. I’ve already poisoned you. So you can go join your useless daughter, just like you wanted. But just remember: if you had been smart enough to recognize that she was a fraud, that she had only stolen what belonged to me… you would have lived a long and happy life.”

Edith stepped back, a look of vicious satisfaction on her face. I stared up at her, finding it hard to breathe through the pain, but still forcing a smile, surprising her.

“My only regret in this life is that I didn’t love my daughter more, that I didn’t protect her better. As for you… you mean nothing to me.”

“...” A long silence fell between us.

“Fine.” She spat out the word like a curse. “Die like a fool.” With that she was gone.

I turned on my side, the movement agonizing. Tears filled my eyes, tracking down my cheeks, soaking my disheveled hair and the pillow beneath my head. In my hands I clutched the bloody necklace, holding it tightly to my chest.

“Lenora.” The name came out of my lips as a hoarse whisper.

I had hoped this necklace would bring her happiness, but instead she died alone and miserable.

“I’m... sorry.

I wanted to see her grow up happy and healthy, surrounded by friends and family.

“I wish….”

If I could have one wish in this lifetime, no matter the cost…

“You had another chance.”

I would only use it for her happiness.

“Lenora... please be happy next time.”

As the world faded into darkness around me, the last thing I saw was the blue jewel in my hand glowing with a brilliant red light.

__________________________________

In another life…

“GRANDMA!” I woke up, startled by the loud shout and a small form jumping on me.

It was a young boy, with bright mischievous eyes and dark curls, looking up at me with a grin.

“What is it, sweetie?” I reached out and hugged my grandson, feeling a sense of warmth in my heart.

He looked around at my question, as if looking to see if anyone else was listening in, turning back to whisper. “There’s going to be a party today!”

“A party?” I raised an eyebrow. “Is this a surprise party for my birthday?” He nodded enthusiastically and laughing, I hugged him tighter.

“Are you excited, Grandma?”

“Very. But we should probably pretend I don’t know anything about it.” He looked confused, but before I could explain the concept of “surprise party” another voice called out.

“Thomas, I told you not to bother grandmother before…” Aimee, her graceful movements showing the results of her etiquette training, halted in surprise, stopping mid-sentence. She looked between us, obviously not wanting to ruin the surprise party, unaware that her little brother already had.

“It’s alright, Aimee, I already know.” I reached out to hug her as well, enjoying having both children in my arms.

“Can you pretend to be surprised for mother?” She asked carefully, her eyes concerned. “She’s been planning this for weeks and I don’t want her to be sad.”

What a thoughtful child.

Feeling proud, I patted her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be surprised.”

“Thank you.” Standing up and straightening her gown, she held out a hand to help me up. “Then let’s head in, Mother sent me to bring you to the party.”

Holding the two children’s hands, I walked towards the small ballroom where Aimee had said the party was to take place. Aimee opened the door for me, and as I stepped in a group of people stepped forward, shouting:

“SURPRISE!”

I pretended to be shocked, winking at Aimee. “Oh goodness!”

Lenora, looking more of a Queen than I ever had in a dark purple gown with gold trim, reached out to hug me. “Happy birthday, Mother.”

I felt a sting in my eyes as I blinked back tears. “Thank you, dear.”

The rest of the group crowded around with a cheer. Hallers smiled kindly at me before turning away to organize the servants to serve food and drinks. Rig clapped me on the back, almost knocking me over, and then grabbed Thomas to throw him up in the air to his delighted shrieks. Erica and Marile both came forward to greet me, happily showing off the gown they had designed for me to wear later that night at the formal gathering. Henry and Raewynn dragged in an enormous potted plant, all the while arguing on the best care for the species before promising to send me a set of written instructions.

Finally Nate stepped closer, dressed in his formal court robes, the awe-inspiring effect ruined by the small infant he held against his shoulder which had already spit up on him. Grinning foolishly, he grabbed a cloth to clean up the baby girl, holding her out to me after he was finished.

“Elise wanted to say happy birthday to her grandmother too.” He kissed my cheek as he handed me my grandchild, standing beside Lenora and naturally placing an arm around her.

The wide-eyed baby, now in my arms, laughed happily and blew spit bubbles, making me grin.

“Were you really surprised, Mother? “ Lenora looked suspicious as she glanced at her two older children, who suddenly appeared guilty.

I couldn’t abandon my grandchildren, so I lied immediately. “O-of course!”

“…” Lenora stared silently for a few moments, before letting out a long sigh. “Sure.”

Nate drew her closer, and kissed her. “As long she’s happy, then your party was a success.”

Seeing her cheered up by such a simple statement, I once again felt grateful that Lenora was married to a man like Nate, who cared for her so much. They smiled at each other, the love they felt evident in their eyes, briefly seeming to forget about everyone else in the room. Playing with Elise, I waited patiently for them to finish. It took some time, but finally she turned back to me, and the room’s light reflected against the blue gem hanging around her neck.

Noticing the familiar blue necklace, I looked closer, slightly confused. “Lenora, you didn’t change the gem did you?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s the same as when you gave it to me.”

I reached out with my free hand, still holding my granddaughter in the other, and lifted the jewel to look closer. “It looks slightly different.”

Perhaps it was the lighting, but the normally pure blue gem seemed to have a faint red glow within it. As I watched it seemed to flare outwards slightly before fading away, leaving a pure blue color once more. I stared at it for a few more moments, but it didn’t change again. Finally I let it down and stepped away from her, wondering if I had imagined it. “Do you remember what I told you when I gave it to you?”

“That it would bring me happiness?” Lenora grinned.

“Are you happy?”

She glanced around the room at my question, and I did too. Everyone here was a part of the family Lenora had gathered. People she cared about, who loved her dearly in return. She reached out, taking Elise and handing it to her husband, before pulling me into a tight hug.

“I’m very happy, Mother.”

I grinned, tears spilling over and soaking into the shoulder of her gown as I held her close. “Good. I love you, Lenora.”

She smiled at that, a pure expression no longer plagued by doubt or fear of caring for others, and answered without hesitation.

“I love you too, Mother.”

I thought of the life Lenora had once told me about. The one she had lived before this. Where she had died alone, betrayed, despairing. I couldn’t help but wonder about the me that had lived in that lifetime. Had I loved her then as much as I did now?

I thought I might have. After all:

If I could have one wish in this life… No matter the cost, I would only use it for her happiness.

I couldn’t help but wonder if in that life I had done just that. Stepping back, I looked at the necklace once more, and sighed. Lenora had grown up well, surrounded by friends and family who loved her. She was happy, and was creating her own future hand in hand with those she loved. It was everything I had ever hoped for and more

My wish, both in this lifetime and the last, had come true.

#writing #i can't eat love #side part #the queen #last part ever #ahh #i feel really sad that it's over #thanks to everyone who followed along with the series!

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areasontobreathe · 5 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 56

This one got away from me. I meant for it to just be some filler, but it turned into a serious conversation, somehow. Those wily OCs keep getting away from me. *Spots one sneaking out the door* Hey! Get back here!

By the virtue of having to proof the pizza dough, Maverick managed to dash into our quarters with just enough time to shower and change before sitting down with us for dinner. He gulped down a glass of wine before even reaching for any food, nodding his thanks to Antoine as he handed the glass back. Conor and I glanced at each other, concerned: Maverick rarely drank with dinner, and if he did it was usually sparingly.

He must have caught our glance. “My hands are shaking and my back is a mess of knots from checking – and I quote – ‘everything in the lab that may have had anything to do with the construction of the platforms, along with any equipment that may have interacted with them after construction’. So sayeth Grey Hodenson.” He paused to stuff a fish-laden slice of pizza in his mouth. “Mmph. Sorry. Hey, Zach.”

“That’s literally every piece of equipment in BioLab 2 and the fabrication lab,” Conor interjected. “Grey is making you do all that?”

Maverick shook his head. “Huynh is coming down on everyone with this, Con. Grey’s just protecting their technicians and researchers.”

“What about Xiomara?” I asked, waving my hand to grab their attention before glancing at my sister. “I mean, the platforms being unsafe would fall under her department, right?”

Tyche picked up on what I was hinting at. “Does she even know about this issue?”

Conor glanced back and forth between us for a moment. “I – I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve been so caught up in defending myself that I didn’t even think to ask.”

“If Councillor Hodenson knows, would they not think to pass the information on to her?” Antoine asked reasonably.

It was my turn to shake my head. “Don’t you remember on Level One? Grey gets incredibly forgetful when they’re under extreme duress. With the recent gravity increase, I don’t think anyone has been sleeping all that well. Derek told me earlier that he’s been having nightmares. I know the three of us haven’t been sleeping worth a damn.” I gestured between myself and my two partners-cum-guard dogs.

“Surprised you can sleep at all, the way Maverick snores,” Zach snickered, earning a half-hearted glare and the confiscation of a slice of pizza from his plate. “Hey!” he protested weakly.

Still staring him down, I took the biggest bite I could manage of the slice in my hand before sliding the rest of the pizza on the table toward him. “Be nice,” I admonished around my stolen mouthful. “The point is, Xio may not know about the situation. I’ll touch base with her tomorrow, first thing.”

Later, Tyche and I were sitting in the living room while the guys were cleaning up and joking around in the food-prep area. “Does he do that often?” she asked, referring to the earlier situation with Conor.

“Hmm? Oh, umm…. No? Not really?” I scrunched my nose. “This is the first time I’ve known him to do it while someone else was here?”

She looked at me skeptically. “Mon soeur…” she started with the same fond tone that she usually reserved for calling me ‘silly bitch’.

“I’m not lying, you can have Noah check the recordings later. I swear. Yes, he does lose his temper sometimes, but he makes a point to ask me and Maverick to leave while he calms down or warns us before we get home that he had a bad day and needs some time to himself. I can’t really think of any time that it’s been something one of us did that set it off – usually it’s work or a hydroponic project that gets him that frustrated. We didn’t even know that he was throwing things until we came back for something once, thinking he was just laying in bed or reading a book or something, and we caught the mess he had made while he was cleaning it up.”

She seemed reluctantly mollified. “I really thought for a second that… Anyway, assuming you are telling the truth – and I will check – it makes sense that he was so upset when you walked in earlier. But if I check with Noah, and he tells me a different story…” She left the threat hanging as she gave me a pointed look.

“Check all you want,” I assured her. “Cross examine, be specific, grill them. If I’m blind to something, let me know.”

Before we could say anything else, the other four joined us. Tyche left the couch in favor of sitting with Antoine in the armchair, while Maverick took her seat next to me. Surprisingly, Conor let Zach sit on my other side, in favor of sitting on the floor and resting against mine and Maverick’s legs. It wasn’t unusual for him to do after losing his temper – I wasn’t even sure he realized that he acted like he had to earn back his spot on the sofa – but I hadn’t expected him to do it in front of other people.

My favorite source of never-ending surprise didn’t stop there. “Antoine,” he asked, clearing his throat. “Do you have anyone on staff who, uh, helps with… anger management?” He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment when Antoine’s eyebrows shot up. “I got… mad as hell today, and I was throwing things in front of Zach. And it’s not the first time I’ve tossed a room ‘cause I was pissed off.” Leaning forward, he shoved a hand through his hair and forced himself to keep talking. “I’ve never raised my voice or threw things at Sophie or Mav, and I try to make sure that no one is here when I do it. But today… Zach was here, and Sophie and Tyche got home and the door was open, and I could’ve… Even if it had been a accident, someone could’ve got hurt, and – “

“No one got hurt?” Antoine cut in, glancing around with concern. I could see his fingers digging into Tyche’s hip where his arms were around her, his professional façade cracking just a hair at the idea that she had been in potential danger. The three of us who had been there shook our heads, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am well aware that Tyche will likely be checking the recordings to ensure that you are save, Sophia and Maverick. I will be checking them with her, just to be sure. And yes, Conor, we do have some people on the Ark who are trained to handle anger management.” When Antoine removed his hand from his face, I caught him clenching it in a tight fist for a brief moment.

Apparently Conor wasn’t the only one with an unexpected temper. “Antoine,” I said softly. “I already told Tyche, go ahead and check the recordings. Grill Noah. Conor really has always made a point to make sure we weren’t here when he knew he was going to lose it, and he tried as hard as he could to make sure we didn’t realize how badly he was handling it. But I do think he could use some help learning a more… productive? Way to handle things.” I stroked Conor’s hair and smiled slightly when Maverick moved my hand so he could do it, instead. “I did suggest boxing,” I pointed out, glancing up.

“The last thing I want to do is graduate to hitting things,” Conor grumbled. “That doesn’t seem like a good idea at all.”

“Actually, boxing is an effective outlet for aggression,” Antoine argued. “It has proven to provide a safe outlet for violent urges, especially if it is not an activity you have ever taken up before. Over time, it reprograms the same physical impulse that causes you to throw things to instead channel that aggression toward hitting something that is designed to be hit, or toward a sparring partner who is consenting to engage and is physically protected.”

“There has to be something else. Something non-violent.”

“Any physical exercise can provide an outlet, but it may not be as satisfying,” our resident therapist relented. “Running, aerobics, or dance are found to be the most effective due to the high cardiovascular output they provide.”

Conor nodded, taking that into more serious consideration. “Running sounds better.”

“Awww, you don’t want to start taking dance classes?” Maverick teased, grunting when I elbowed him. “What? You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be a little funny.”

I glared at him as Tyche cleared her throat. “Um, Maverick? Sweetie? Sophia took dance lessons for years. Believe me, just the stretches will have you pouring sweat when you first start.”

“It takes about the same amount of discipline as martial arts,” I picked up from there. “Precision, and complete focus on what each part of your body is doing at any given time. Not to mention the amount of strength you have to build up, depending on what you’re doing – at one point I could squat close to three hundred pounds. Not for long,” I admitted. “But I could do it.”

“Maybe you should start dancing again,” my sister mused. “It was good for your anxiety.” I tilted my head, conceding her point, but didn’t say anything.

“I am tempted to make the entire ship start taking up more cardiovascular exercise,” Antoine sighed. “Since the most recent gravity adjustment, the reports of anxiety, paranoia, and insomnia have far exceeded what we anticipated. As Sophia suggested at dinner, it seems that very few on the Ark are unaffected.”

I snorted before descending through giggles and into outright hysteric laughter. I glanced up briefly to see everyone staring at me, waiting for me to explain the joke. I managed to pull myself together long enough to gasp, “Ten-thousand-person flash mob.”

One by one, the entire room descended into laughter, the seriousness that had settled upon us temporarily broken by the mental image of everyone on the Ark dancing their hearts out.

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #earth is space australia #original writing

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boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 89

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Bad Company

Summary: Genevieve begins standing up for herself and others with her new found sense of self. Alfie sits back and enjoys the show.

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence.Verbal fighting.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Alfie and Genevieve were working again, and more importantly, working as one cohesive unit. Still light with his affections, trying to appreciate the subtle physical affection between them that was backed with a more mature and solid love behind it nowadays.

They focused on tone and respect, checking in on each other and being understanding of the others space and feelings. Gen found herself enjoying her time with Alfie more now that she was spending less with him. She had time to paint and think again, two things she had sorely needed more of in her life to get herself straight again. She was figuring out who this new woman was, and how she fell into place with Alfie and who he was at this juncture. It led to more confidence, better communication and a deeper intimacy outside of sex for them. Which at Alfie's age his back and hips truly appreciated.

They talked with tea and biscuits before bed every night. A rundown of the day and the questions and concerns it brought them putting it all away with the China when no more could be done for it. In turn the lack of talking led to more tenderness, small kisses and strokes as they wound down together, Genevieve letting her guard down only for him most days now. It let her feel cared for and safe as he’d wrap her up and hold her close as she fell asleep and it gave him the protective and providing feelings he needed as a man. They were evening each other out, finding their new roles within the relationship and the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

———

With a pin-straight posture and the newest in women's business wear from Paris, a treat to herself for her recent successes, Genevieve sits perched on a wooden chair that must be as old as the school building itself for how uncomfortable it was. She sits across the long banquet table in the great hall from a man who could also be considered dated and out of fashion, the same as his surroundings. There was only one other woman in the group for instructors and heads of the art department, and she taught dance. She was older but fit and always wore her hair in a tight bun that did her frail and gaunt face no favors. Her attitude also didn’t help her seem any more approachable but that seemed to be common among the ballet type. They were all tight strung and old fashioned, strict and elitist, the same could be said for everyone else on the board except Genevieve. She was the youngest by around two decades and the only with a tailor that wasn’t an octogenarian.

“Everyone who votes for Beatrice Langston, a show of hands.” The head says as his slumped posture from being bent over a desk his whole academic life, makes him look like he struggles to lift his head to see a show of hands. Everyone but Genevieve.

“Really?” Genevieve asks with direct eye contact with each person after the count was finished.

“I’m sorry Miss Durand but majority rules.”

“You are all going to sit there and tell me with a straight face that Beatrice is better suited for the scholarship than Hazel?” No one speaks and avoids her aggressive gaze. “Beatrice is rudimentary at best. She lacks the understanding of color theory and her depth of field is just...well it’s lacking. To put it politely.” Gen speaks with an animated tone and body as she moves paintings around on the table. “Look at these Hazel has done! Brilliant use of color and saturation, everything is scaled to perfection and her abstract art evokes emotion and shows a much deeper grasp of the poetry and psychology of color and space!” Gen raises her voice and holds up a painting with both her hands, shoving it in the others faces from where she sat. “Beatrice hasn’t even DONE an abstract piece!” She tosses the paper and sorts back loudly in her chair as it scoots.

“The vote is final Moss Durand, I’m sorry you-“

“No, you’re not!” She scoffs and his eyes go wide. “I know why you’re all voting for her and you should all be ashamed. You should have your educator privileges revoked because you don’t give a damn about these children and nurturing them.” She speaks from the heart, fully upset and letting it show.

“Miss Durand that is quiet enough.”

“So you’re going to tell me you’re voting for Langston because of her skill and NOT because of who her father is?” She crossed her arms and leans toward the annoyed-looking man.

He says nothing in reply. “Our vote is-“

“Yes final!” She throws up her hands and rolls her eyes. “I am so completely disappointed in every single one of you for not voting for talent over a name. Hazel could use this scholarship, Langston has money! And no talent.” She shakes her head. “All because of who her father is! Ridiculous!” Genieve huffs.

“Like you’ve never benefited from who your father is.” One is the men say with a cold side-eye that they would soon regret.

“Excuse me, Garrett?” She stands slowly and others sink back into their chairs.

“Miss Durand pl-“

“NO!” She shakes her head and begins speaking with her hands to the head. “No, I will not sit here and be spoken to in such a way.” She trots right across from the formerly brave academic and scolds him like a child with a pointed finger. “You don’t know a damn thing about me you glorified bookend! I lost my connection to my father and his name at seventeen! Everything I have has my blood sweat and tears in it! I have worked My arse off for my successes and you, nay, no one will say otherwise because it would be a lie.” She hisses and shouts. “A girl should get this scholarship on hard work and talent, not a name! Just because you’ve never worked for anything doesn’t mean others aren’t deserving! We can’t all be born with rich fathers and cocks and just waltz into whatever sort of life we want! Some of us have to work for it! And since all you’ve done is make theories and sit on your fat arse and read your whole life you can’t relate! Doesn’t make it not true!” She shouts and throws her arms in the air.

“MISS DURAND! That is enough!”

“And YOU! You ancient fuck. You can piss off. The lot of you! You only represent the past and have no interest in catching up with the rest of the world on modernity. I don’t want any part of a board or school who doesn’t give a fuck about its students. I love art and I want to help those that love it as well.” She speaks and moves to gather her things as she keeps scolding. “And as a woman who knows the rampant sexism and abuse of power in academia, you should be ASHAMED!” She points at the other woman in her group. “I’d like to let you all in on a little advice before I part. Garret your beard makes you look like a pedophile. Quinne, your hair pulled back like that makes you look like a shaved fanny. Richard, you always smell like bloody mothballs and Turner, your cologne smells like horse piss. And you Gerald.” She scowls at the head. “ Everyone knows your poor dumb secretary sucks you off in your office. You’re a lousy liar and make noises like a dying cow when you ejaculate. You aren’t fooling anyone.” She sasss. “You’re a sorry lot and I’m sorry that these students have heartless twats for professors!” She begins to trot off, her heels clicking over the old stone floors in a hurry in her anger.

The look on her face gives away her anger before she’s even in the car to meet Claire.

“That didn’t take long.”

“I left early.” She spits out and sits and seethes.

“May I ask why?”

“I quit.” She says finally looking to Claire sat next to her.

“You bloody what?” Her voice breaks.

“They wanted to give the scholarship to a girl

Based on who her father was. Not on talent because the simple thing couldn't evoke emotion with art if her life depended on it. They just want bloody money from her family!”

“So you quit?”

“Yes. I don’t want any part of that crock of shit.”

Claire opens her mouth and then closes it. There was a paycheck lost but truly not much else. Genevieve could just paint to sell and easily make up the difference. She could set up anyway and teach just for the love of it, so Claire simply nods.

———

“She’s in a right mood.” Claire warms Alfie, setting the table for tea as he trumps into the house.

“Why?” He demands in his usual confident way.

“She quit the teaching work today.”

“Fuckin wot? But she loves it!”

“She loves it and that’s why she quit.” Claire shrugs.

“Is no one makin' no fuckin' sense in this madhouse?” Alfie barks.

“What are you shouting about?” Genevieve comes around the corner with her little glasses on that matches Alfies and a stack of papers in her arms.

“What’s this bout you quittin?”

“Come sit and I’ll explain.” She nods and puts her hand to his back. Her calmer approach caught him off guard. He was expecting a loose canon from Claire’s warning but he only saw a very present woman in her eyes and appearance.

“Ya fuckin better.” He says loudly as he sits and she ignores his needless pompous nature.

“Aggie before our meal, some chamomile perhaps?”

“Lovely idea dear.” Aggie praises and Gen sits next to Alfie in their little corner of the table. Her in her large decorative, plush velvet chair at the head.

“I quit the board and the teaching job today.”

“Yeah, I got that much.”

“Do you want to keep interrupting me to hear the sound of your own voice or do you want me to explain?” She asks with a tilted head and removing her glasses.

His chin sinks into his neck in surprise at her quick wit and he gestures for her to continue without a word.

“Thank you.” She says with a large nod. “The scholarship vote was today and in short they chose name over talent. A girl who’s father has political connections was chosen over an immensely talented girl. For the money I’m guessing. I tried to convince them and they would not listen. I expressed my disappointment in their decision and one of the men thought it wise to make a remark about me. I-“

“Who fuckin said wot love, I’ll get the bastard.” Alfie swoops in protectively, still touchy about people smart mouthing Gen with the ongoing fight over gossip.

“That’s very nice of you, Cheri but not needed. I set him straight with words. Much less mess.” She pats Alfie's arm and despite his hard brow of anger for someone having the balls to speak poorly towards her, he couldn’t help but admire the unbothered face she held. “I don’t want to be a part of an organization that runs in such an unfair and uncaring way.”

“I never liked those wankers. Always acted betta than me.”

“And you are smarter than any of them could ever aspire to be, I assure you.” She praises and begins laying her papers into piles.

“Fuckin right I am.” He grumbles in agreement but feels the compliment make his chest warm. “You seem to be takin' it well.” He remarks, seeing her put her glasses back on.

“I was well miffed at first. But turns out Spite is an excellent motivator.” She says with an amused smile.

“That it is.” He nods. “And what is it motivatin'?”

“I am going to start my own scholarship.”

“Oh! Lovely idea that.” He nods approvingly. “Total control or no control I always say.”

“You do say that.” She remarks, thumbing through a stack.

“Where exactly ya gonna get the money for such a thing?” He flatly asks. “Ya kinda lost a source of income there dinnit ya?”

“I did but I can manage. I did it because I loved it, not the money.” She shakes her head. “I plan on selling some pieces, then gathering funds from the community in support. I’m going to make it one, especially for Jewish girls. I plan to give Hazel the first.”

“Hazel?”

“The girl that should have gotten the scholarship to begin with. Sweet and inwardly little girl. Bright as the sun and so much promise.”

“And Jewish?”

“And Jewish.” She nods.

“Well, that’s lovey then, yeah?”

“I certainly hope so.” Gen glances over to him. “Lots of paperwork involved in such a thing of course. I’ll have to go by the lawyers later in the week to set it all up. But I’m the meantime I can sell and do private lessons for a price. Perhaps portraits? Be far less time consuming for me anyway.”

“And make a hell of a lot more money.”

“Yes. That as well.” She huffs out a laugh and nods.

“Where ya gon sell at?”

“Nothing in mind yet. Places. Pieces I do have a few landscapes that are easy sales I believe. Once I had all the legal pieces in place I Was moving onto that next step.”

“How’s about me club?”

Gen stops and looks up at him. “Really?” She says with narrowed eyes of disbelief.

“Sure. Can be a little coming out party for ya. Invite all those posh cunts and take their money.” He grins.

“You’ll have to come up with a new name for them if we’re going to be asking for money.” She smirks.

“Eh.” He shrugs. “I just won’t say it to no one's face.” He promises and they share a mutual smile of hopefulness for both endeavors.

——————

His club would be full of what half his usual clientele was on this particular evening. The usual ruffage replaced with the wealthy that Genevieve had invited not only to get money from but to put any rumors to bed about how she might be now since the whispered about incident. It was easy enough to show she wasn’t pregnant, especially in the tight dress she’d chosen. Which was purposeful.

“I can’t help but feel a bit fat in this.” She mutters, smoothing over her well-rounded hips where she was now carrying most of her weight gain.

“You’ve gained weight but you look healthy again.” Claire insists. “Which is what you want. You look well fed and cared for. No signs of weakness or poverty.”

“That’s all well good but what happens when I slap some twat for calling me a cow.” She snaps back.

“Ya first have to get over me slappin’ ya for sayin’ such a thing bout yaself.” Alfie says loudly as he enters the room in his usual dark suit.

“But I have gained weight.” She insists on her correctness.

“Yes and what of it? Who the fuck cares? Not me. You shouldn’t. Ya look lovely. Gorgeous. Green like money and soft like royalty.” He declares with his hands on her bare arms.

“But I have-“

“Shut your perfect painted mouth love.” He shakes his head and tsks her. “I won’t have you speakin' of yaself in such a way. Not with me round to hear it and not when I’m away, yeah? You are a dream in the flesh, Genny. Always have been, always will be.” He kisses her blushed cheek.

“Yes, Alfie.” She sighs.

“I know ya can lie betta than at!” He grins and puts his arms around her in the emerald dress. “You are confident. You are in control.” He says with a squeeze to her. “Now you.” He nods his head forward.

“I am confident. I am in control.” She tries to put forth some faith in her voice.

“You will get the money you need tonight and you will charm the pants off everyone.” Claire adds supportively.

“Thanks.” Gen says with her hands resting on Alfies around her. “Last time I tried this it went miserably and I believe it’s getting the best of me.”

“You are a different woman now.” Alfie declares proudly. “I have total faith in you. As should you.” He kisses her cheek and gives her bum a light pat before pulling away. “And you do look stunnin’ love. You know I’d tell ya if I thought otherwise.”

“And I don’t know yet if that’s a blessing or a curse.” She smirks.

“There She is, right?” He laughs and pinches her cheek, smiling proudly.

——

Genevieve did muster up the hutzpah she needed before exiting the car with Alfie opening the door for her. A gentlemanly hand out and waiting patiently as he heard her measured breathing to set herself. When she emerged, she was a fully evolved woman of means who didn’t give a damn about anyone she didn’t deem worthy.

He loved watching her now, not like he hadn’t before but now in public there was a hardness that wasn’t there before. Even though she was looking for money from these people, she wasn’t kissing any arse. She stone-faced bad, sexist jokes and when turned to see what was wrong with her, Alfie would give them no reaction as well. Solidarity and that. She didn’t clutch her chest and bend and laugh like an angel for them, she spoke clearly and in an informed way like the well-educated businesswoman she was. She wasn’t boozy and lusty and playing up her chest or hair. She wore it pulled back with a lovely bejeweled comb, her dress perfectly tailored and her jewels classic and expensive. She only

wore kitten heels, concealed under the long hem of her gown instead of her usual height giving ones since the healing had left her back a bit worse for wear. But she didn’t look any less put together for it. Alfie rather liked the shorter stature for her as he got to put his arm around her easily and whisper how proud he was of her for not giving in to their expectations of her. Everything was going swimmingly, money being signed over, appointments for teaching sessions filling up on the list. But a woman, for whatever her reasons were, decided to make a spectacle of herself. And Genevieve was happy to oblige her.

“Yes I’m doing very well.” Genevieve nods and gives a polite tone. “The new contracts with Fortnum and Mason as well as a large yield

This season for both honey and fruit. Soon I’ll be adding my hat to the gin game with my high-grade juniper.”

“I heard you got fired from the school.” The wife of the man who was being a gentleman and speaking to both Gen and Alfie equally chirps into the conversation. “So with that monetary loss

You can’t be doing as well.”

Genevieve narrows her eyes at her but keeps her cool. “I stepped down from the board and quit my teaching position. I was not fired. I didn’t believe in how they were running the school. Since I worked there out of love for the arts and the students, not the money, that is why I am starting my own scholarship and offering lessons. Which is why you are here tonight.” She clarifies.

“Gen has been very hands-on with the building of it, suited the work helps fund that of others. She’ll be having her bat mitzvah soon and with these new business endeavors I could not be more proud.” Alfie adds to help cut the tension

“Thank you darling.”

“Well good thing everything has lined up so well for you both now, yes?” The man gives a polite smile.

“It is a blessing, surely.” Gen nods graciously.

“Especially after all that….” the man shakes her head. “All the bad sort of things that transpired for you. Well good that you have recovered so well!”

“Yes, a product of hard work I assure you.”

“Hard work will get you whatever you desire,

I always say.”

What a capitalist, Gen muses.

“Rather, suspicious though isn’t it?” The wife turns as if she’s only speaking to her husband.

“Uh...what is dear?”

“Or rather ... convenient that all this happens around this time? right after your supposed incident..”

“Supposed?” Genevieve’s voice shows bite and the man is clearly made uncomfortable by it.

“Yes if it was so bad you don’t seem to be bothered now.”

“I am a businesswoman. I try not to mix personal and professional.” Alfie could see Gen's eyes dilate and change. He watched her closely with great interest.

“I’d heard no one saw you for months and then you pop back up just fine. Seems like if all that happened like I’ve heard you’d still be at home. Not out working. Like a man.” She shoots her eyes at Alfie who gives her a quirked brow and a snort at the audacity to come after his masculinity.

“Besides taking care of her when she was first home, my business wasn’t affected.” Alfie speaks in a cold and calculated way.

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” She looks Alfie up and down. “But funny how this all cleared right up when it was time for you to ask for money. Yes? When you would require others kindness?” The hairs on the back of Genevieve’s neck stand up as he watches her brow lower and her eyes go black. “People in your sort of...business…” she drags out and looks to Alfie for a moment with clear disapproval on her face. “Are known to, shall we say, over-exaggerate the truth? And as I said, awfully coincidental on the timing when you needed people to feel sorry for you.”

Genevieve moves so fast Alfie doesn’t have time to do much but scoff out a laugh after she has the woman by her neck and against a wall.

Genevieve sinks her nails into the unmarked skin of the woman��s weak throat. Her hand squeezing as she holds her up as sputters, eyes wide showing she didn’t expect to get what was coming her way.

Gen leans in close, nose to the woman’s cheek and ghosts over her skin and ears as speaks low and slow so only she can hear. The rest of the room falls silent and turns to watch the altercation, disgustingly interested to see if the rumors of Genevieve's ruthlessness were true.

“The things I went through would’ve killed an ordinary man.” She hisses and the woman kicks her feet. “You would’ve died one day in.” She growls. “If you lasted that long.” She spits venomously. “I owe you nothing. But I will tell you the horrors and trials I have gone through are something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Torture. Rape. Mental and emotional manipulation. I’ve moved past all of it. My body and mind have healed so I can make a better life for myself. Cunts like you make it so I Have to push forward, be better, be more and prove myself time and time again to make it in this world. You prove nothing with your accusations. Only that you are a weak, soft submissive lemming, a pathetic excuse for a woman for those of us who have known true oppression. A judgemental miserable old hag with nothing better to do than talk about others because you have nothing of any substance to say. You are nothing. You aren’t worth my time. I am only using you as an example. Because I know others think like you. And I will continue to be better than you. To thrive despite your disapproval. To be happy and fulfilled in ways you could never imagine.” She lets go of her throat, her feet full on the floor again as she gasps and holds her neck. “That is my revenge. A life more fruitful and whole than your small mind could ever hope for. And if you ever think to even insinuate that I am a liar again. I will not use just my words against you, you rotted gash.” Genevieve stands like a snake watching its venom take down its prey slowly.

The woman does not respond. The blood under Gen's nails and the energy around her speak enough.

The husband looks to Alfie while this all happens, who only shrugs and watches with fully entertained eyes. This old horse got what was coming to her as far as he was concerned. He was only disappointed Genevieve didn’t slap her at the first insult. But this was well worth the wait.

“If anyone else has any remarks about my abduction and the events around it I suggest you keep them to your fucking self. No self-respecting person would ask someone about such a horrible thing. And they won’t if they want to keep their tongues in their mouths.” She stands tall, proud and strong in the face of all eyes gazing upon her. She speaks from the gut, and only truthfully. She held no question as to who she was in that moment as she boldly met the eyes that stared at her with mixtures of fear and interest.

Alfie stood as tall and proud as she, solidarity with his love. He gave her an approving nod when she met his eyes across the room. The deep rich brown so black when she tapped into that killer instinct now. This was a power move, strength and control. The restraint but an expression of her feelings showing growth beyond what he could’ve hoped for her. She was truly one of his own now. His warrior queen, his panther wife and hopefully the fearless and just mother to his children one day. He was overtaken with emotion, his heart hard thumping in his chest as she moved back towards him in the crowd like a snake in her green dress. She was brilliant, everything he needed in a companion. She wasn’t taking shit from anyone now, for any reason. Gone through hell and lived, came out the other side stronger and smarter and more ruthless. Same as him. She was a gangster now. Worthy to carry the Solomons’ name. He couldn’t wait to make her his own.

Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

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galaxy-whiskers · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @bailandonorris, thanks!

1. what is the colour of your hair brush?

I have a silver paddle brush which I don’t use very often, a transparent and purple swirly coloured (honestly don’t know how else to describe) afro comb, and a regular black comb.

2. name of a food you never eat?

Tuna, can’t stand it. To be honest, I eat most things if they’re warm, but VERY fussy when it comes to cold food

3. are you typically too warm or too cold?

Definitely too hot! I still have a fan on in the winter at night time

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Playing Animal Crossing, tried to catch some tarantulas because Flick is on my island but the dodos don’t seem to want to send me to any decent islands so my mission was unsuccessful

5. what’s your favourite candy bar?

That’s a hard one... probably either Cadbury’s marvelous creations with the jelly beans and popping candy, darkmilk, or the one with oreos. Snickers are pretty great too, also Kinder Bueno and just Kinder chocolate in general. Basically, what I’m saying is I love chocolate

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yes, I went to the London 2012 Olympics to watch show jumping, football and basketball! Have probably been to others? Really want to go to Wimbledon at some point but not sure when I’ll be able to do that. Does dog agility count as sport? Seen it at Crufts multiple times

7. what is the last thing you said out loud?

‘Night night curly shoes’ - a goodnight wish for my sweet doggo Ivy

8. what is your favourite ice cream?

I’m a fan of coconut ice cream it has to be said, also honeycomb, and your standard Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough is high up there. Really specifically, the vanilla ice cream from the waffle shop in Cirencester. To be honest, don’t eat much ice cream, not my go-to food choice because I’m lactose intolerant and a lot of it makes me feel sick just thinking about it. Has to be good!

9. what is the last thing you had to drink?

Some water, absolute health right here (she says drinking her first glass of water all day after about 4 cans of Pepsi Max whoops)

10. do you like your wallet?

I guess so, yes. Could probably do with a slightly more efficient one but it’s decent

11. what was the last thing you ate?

A jazz apple from the fridge. We have no pink ladies which are the favourites but jazz are pretty tasty too

12. did you buy any new clothes last week?

No, only virtual ones in Animal Crossing. I haven’t been clothes shopping in so long and doesn’t look like that will change anytime soon

13. last sporting event you watched?

Honestly no idea, since all the sport has been cancelled for a while I can’t think what the last thing would have been. Probably Cheltenham races on the telly back in February or March or whenever it was?

14. what’s your favourite flavour of popcorn?

The classic, salty cinema popcorn. Honestly the best

15. who was the last person you sent a message to?

Strangely, someone from my secondary school who I haven’t ever spoken to over message before. She posted our leavers video on her Instagram and thought I’d message since I’d been looking for that video for y e a r s and sparked a conversation! She never liked me much back in school I don’t think, she was popular and I really wasn’t so I never properly spoke to her. One of my friends had a bit of drama with her, absolutely hated her, but they eventually became best pals. Also her best pal during most of school really didn’t like me for some reason... anyway, had a nice chat, strange how friendly she seems these days

16. ever go camping?

Uhh well... I’ve been 4 times, 2 of which were for D of E and I can safely say I’ve never had a good experience. First time, the people in the tent next to us got arrested at 3AM for drugs or something, second time was my dad’s 40th birthday and my brother didn’t know he was allergic to nuts so eating a cake with mixed nuts on the top didn’t go down well for him... also went to a restaurant on the way there with my granny and got a caterpillar in my salad. Third and fourth times, let’s just say D of E was one of the worst experiences of my life, I’ll leave it at that... would really like to go camping again though to have a good experience, maybe change my mind on it? I don’t know, willing to give it a try

17. do you take vitamins?

I go through phases, sometimes I take them every day, other times I don’t take them for like 3 months

18. do you go to church every sunday?

I used to, but as I got older I slowly went less and less until I didn’t go at all. I lost faith I guess? Kind of didn’t feel I belonged there or believed anymore. I loved singing the hymns and our vicar was an absolute lad, we also got biscuits at the end of each service, but over time I decided it wasn’t right for me to keep going. Pretty much all the people that go to ours are your typical white, posh, probably homophobic and hate children type so that put me off. Also after everything that’s happened in mine and other’s lives, I slowly lost the belief in God. If all of it was true, why would these things happen? I guess also my scientific mind was constantly telling me there’s no proof. I think the only reason I went to begin with was because it was a family thing and as a child I believed pretty much everything that was said

19. do you have a tan?

No, certainly not... used to when I lived in the Caribbean but now I’m pretty much white as a sheet

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza?

A very difficult one... probably chinese? As much as I love pizza, it’s the same issue as the ice cream

21. do you drink soda with a straw?

Nah not a fan of straws, they taste weird

22. what colour socks do you wear?

ALL THE COLOURS! I own a pair of socks for every outfit to colour co-ordinate, my sock draw is overflowing

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit?

Strangely, I drive under by quite a bit when no one else is around. It’s the other cars that stress me out and make me go too fast. Also I have a black box so not allowed

24. what terrifies you?

Good question, lots of things... the sea, pools, tbh water in general, heights, rejection, the current impending doom, large open spaces with no walls I can be against, losing everyone I love, the fact that anyone might be secretly talking about me behind my back because they actually hate me, the list goes on but I won’t continue it

25. look to your left what do you see?

An empty Pepsi Max can, a glass of water, some crocodile scissors, my Switch, a cranberry scented candle, and some tiny balls of wool

26. what chore do you hate?

Got to be changing my bed, or washing up when the things have got cold food left on them

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent?

A throwback to year 8

28. what’s your favourite soda?

Pepsi Max

29. do you go into fast food places or drive thru?

It depends who I’m with

30. who was the last person you talked to?

My mum about a meteor shower and satellites

31. favourite cut of beef?

A random question... I do like a good rump steak

32. last song you listened to?

You Make My Dreams by Hall and Oates because I’m using it in my animation project

33. last book you read?

I’m like part way through Good Omens and have been for quite some time... I have learning difficulties and find reading a lot of effort so don’t read very often

34. can you say the alphabet backwards?

No, it’s the kind of thing I’d have expected myself to learn at some point but never did

35. how do you like your coffee?

I don’t like coffee so in the bin

36. favourite pair of shoes?

My multicoloured Vans, got them in the second week of uni and I’ve loved them ever since

37. the time you normally go to bed?

Well, currently it’s around 1AM to go to bed, 3AM to sleep. Used to be around 12/1AM sleep but the lockdown has ruined that

38. the time you normally wake up?

Again, currently it’s around 11:30AM to wake up then 12PM to do things but used to be around 9:30/10AM. To be honest I still sometimes wake up then but I go back to sleep again because I have no reason to exist more than I need

39. what do you prefer sunrise or sunsets?

Sunrise is always nice to watch, but I don’t like getting up early so definitely sunset, especially when you’re at a restaurant or sitting outside somewhere in the countryside

40. how many blankets are on your bed?

Just the one duvet, but I have a soft fish patterned blanket for when I want something to cuddle with

41. describe your kitchen plates?

We have some plain white ones and some that are white with leaves around the edges. The edges have a ridged pattern and the rims are gold

42. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

I don’t drink so no

43. do you play cards?

Yes, love a good card game!

44. what colour is your car?

It’s very nice Caribbean sea blue. Used to be my mum’s car, it’s her favourite colour

45. can you change a tire?

I probably could if I had to but can’t say I’ve done it before

46. your favourite province?

I guess that’s counties? Hometown of Gloucestershire is up there, also a fan of Devon. My favourites may have to be Caenarfonshire and Anglesey though after the road trip last year

47. favourite job you’ve had?

Not sure really, I guess it would have to be doing my art commissions

48. how did you get your biggest scar?

The biggest scar I have these days is on my right knuckle between my index and middle finger, it’s very small. I got it from when I was holding a horse still before untacking and he decided that hay was more exciting, caught my hand on a splintered wooden fence and that was that

49. what did you do today that made someone happy?

Nothing, I’ve only seen my family and even then it was for a short time. Don’t think I make anyone happy these days ahah

It’s now 3:22AM, that took longer than I expected. ‘I’ll go to sleep early today’ I said but I say that every day. Don’t know why I keep lying to myself.

Anyway, I guess I have to tag someone now, so I tag @duckingpunches !

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