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jamneuromain · 5 months

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I have an idea omg. We need more of Lloyd and reader... What about a situation when Lloyd got injured, like he kicked someone's ass , got his knuckles bleeding, or maybe he got a cut or smth... and the reader though she's aware of her blood-seeing problem ofc decided to help him, trying to fight her hemophobia best she could because Lloyd needed her help. Or it can be quite the opposite, the reader got hurt in some way, bleeding a bit, and Lloyd decided to help her because he knows her reaction to seeing blood and all. What do you think?😬☺

Hi Elena😌❤️ （sorry that it took so long I accidentally deleted my draft ... and took very long to recover from the devastating fact :l

Your "Lloyd got hurt" idea certainly is very interesting....👀

So, what would happen if Lloyd got hurt and he has no one else to turn to but his secretary with hemophobia...🤔

Bleed Out

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader (Driver!Denny Carmicheal), Graphic Depiction of Blood and Violence (I guess Lloyd is a warning of his own?), Reader has hemophobia (fear of blood), a lot of cursing.

Summary: Lloyd is under your protection for now.

A/N: This is the sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love to Mob!Lloyd<333

One thing, one particular feature you like about the apartment you're living in, is that this little condo - along with the rest of the building and five other blocks in the vicinity, belongs to a high-end resident community that has strict security guard patrol schedules and limited key-card access. These precautions resulted in rocket-high market prices and a rather wealthy neighborhood, as the owner of these buildings forbids renting, for every keycard that could access the front gate, elevators, and their matching apartments, accompanied by facial recognition embedded in the little chip. When you get home every night (or afternoon, if you are lucky), you have to press your keycard and stand before the camera before the gate grants you inside. This brings quite some comfort for you, working for a mob boss named Lloyd Hansen, and knowing that his associates are basically "wanted" by rival gangs for the valuable information they possess.

While it is impossible that you could afford such an exquisite apartment with your salary, though very well-paid, you are truly grateful because Lloyd signed this condo - his condo - to you without a word (or asking a dime from you) when you told him during your final interview that you will be needing a week to relocate before starting the job.

That's when you made up your mind that Lloyd Hansen is a boss worthy to work for.

It's not a big place. Having two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen. Decorated in white, black, and grey, clearly matching Lloyd's taste when he asked his lawyer to give you the key card and have you move in.

You've lived here for three years now. Adding soft cushions and light-colored sets to the tedious design here and there. Like the sunflower tablecloth and daisy plates and bowls. Like the pink polka dot sheets and duvet covers. And the fluffy slippers, taken out from the cabinets, ready to be put on as soon as fuzzy socks don't work their magic any more.

You are finishing washing the mug you just used. After putting it on the racks, you wipe your hands with a clean cloth. It is a workday tomorrow, and you intend to sleep early to wake up with a fresh spirit to deal with your (sometimes) moody boss. Treating yourself to a nice little read in the bedside lamp radiating yellow glow - another decoration that you feel much needed for this place, you reach out to turn off the lamp when there's a sudden rush of knock on your door.

You zip your mouth shut.

The news two weeks ago, about a woman who was curious about the baby crying at her door, was yanked out of her apartment as soon as she opened the door, being raped and killed in her own bed.

You are smart enough not to ask "Who is it", letting this unexpected guest learn that a young female is at home.

When the unexpected visitor doesn't hear your reply, they knock on the door more fiercely, nearly knocking your heart out of your throat.

You remember the tutorial online: Approach the door with caution, and check the surveillance camera. If there's no one in sight, call the cops. If there's anything out of the ordinary, like a baby or a kitten by the door, call the cops.

In summary, call the cops.

Your fingers hover above your phone, having the police number on speed dial, when you turn on the surveillance camera monitor by the door.

A very bruised, cut, and tired Lloyd, having a gun in his hand, banging on your door as he winces in pain.

"Goodness gracious-" Your gasp gets stuck in your throat. Opening the door in an instant, there's nothing else in your mind than keeping him alive. Your goosebumps on high alert as Lloyd's eyes scan over you. You pull him in, checking that the hallway is secure, before closing the heavy door as quietly as possible.

You turn to him, "Mr. Han-" Your words stop mid-sentence as you feel the need to fight the bile down your throat.

Yes. Mr. Hansen is very much covered in the one thing you hate most in the world.

Blood.

Blood splattered on his chest, his ridiculous choice of the blue-white striped polo shirt and cuts littered over his face and bare arms. His pants are dripping. Some crimson-colored liquid will stick permanently onto your floor and your beloved carpet.

Redness, some stained into near-brown, all over his figure.

You hold your breath, not letting the iron taste linger to make matters worse.

Lloyd walks, more like limps to each of your rooms - now that you can breathe a little while the blood smell is gone temporarily, and convince yourself that it's just ketchup on your boss (though you doubt that trick works) - and inspects each of them with his finger on the gun's trigger.

Taking in the whole situation, three things pop into your mind.

Lloyd is in desperate need of medical attention.

You are most likely to faint as soon as he returns, seeing this amount of blood.

Lloyd wouldn't knock on your door if this isn't desperate for him as well.

As Lloyd approaches, you are wrecking every brain cell to work a way out of this.

" 'S anyone here?" He asks, pulling the safe of his gun back on, before plopping down on your couch and groaning because he most definitely pulls one or two, if not a few of his wounds.

However, one of THE most brilliant ideas comes to you when you are holding your breath.

You shake your head, raising one finger to tell him you need a moment - or you hope that your running off conveys the message, and dash towards your bathroom.

Lloyd sags down on the couch, not even bothering to get up or turn his head to watch whether you've pulled out a gun pointing at him. You probably wouldn't do so, since you chose to pull him in, instead of letting him bleed out by your door.

When you appear in front of him again, his body briefly stuns a moment, before emerging in a burst of full-blown laughter. He laughs so hard that his laughter turns into coughs, which leads to him pressing his hand over his chest in case he tears his wounds further.

You place your hands on your hips. Compared to him, you are least amused by your idea.

You smoothed your hair back and put on your scuba diving goggles from a paid leave last year. Lloyd personally oversaw your two-week vacation, paying from your hotel suite to your travel expenses, and even ordering you full scuba diving equipment for your one-hour scuba lesson.

Of course, you weren't actually interested in becoming an expert, but the scuba equipment was too nice to be thrown away.

"Not funny." You breathe through your mouth. Even though the orange plastic - or glass, you don't quite know which - changes how the bloody Lloyd looks in your eyes, it still doesn't completely change the idea that Lloyd is, in fact, covered in blood, as much as you don't want to think about it. And it definitely doesn't block the smell of blood, which probes the nerves at the back of your nose whenever you breathe through your mouth.

Lloyd scans your "outfit", his laughter slowly dials down, eventually turns into a lazy smile ghosting his lips, "You're right. It's not."

It's over 10:30 pm, and you usually would have been sleeping, or lying on your bed, at least. But no, you are stuck in the living room with your boss who's about to die any minute, and you are only able to stand in front of him, alive and thinking, with a fucking scuba mask on.

So, fuck this.

You roll your eyes at your cold-blooded boss. "Should I call your doctor? Or send you to the hospital?"

The smirk disappears.

Although he didn't say "no" to the hospital, by now you've realized the hospital choice was crossed off the board, as he chose you instead of ringing the police - which will no doubt lead to an investigation since Lloyd is the most notorious mob in Los Angles.

You search for the first aid bag that you stocked away when you moved in. It has rarely been used.

"Doc's dead." He murmurs, but loud enough for you to understand. He spoke with a sadness that only appears when he has lost one of his people. "I took Jared to his clinic."

You know Jared, he is one of the muscles working for Lloyd. He helped take care of one of Lloyd's rivals, Brewer.

"The deal with the Russian mobs tonight went wrong, but we got out in one piece." Lloyd explains curtly, "I got him to Doc's place to get stitched up. But we were attacked... Doc died, so did Jared."

So... two of his people.

Medical alcohol and Q-tips were picked from the bag, then a roll of gauze. You place those on the coffee table.

"I think you need something bigger than a Q-tip." He chuckles, unbuckling his belt, removing his pants. You open your mouth wanting to argue it's probably best that he doesn't move right now, but you silence yourself when you see a flesh wound -

Blood trickles down his thigh, leaving a scorched round hole on his leg. You turn your head to the other side as soon you feel the need to hurl. Even with your goggles on, deep down, you know that it's blood, not ketchup, nor some red paint oozing from his body.

“Don’t puke on my shoes. Crocodiles died for it.” A strangled grunt comes out of his mouth when he finished speaking, having your heart tug in the slightest of agony.

The belt he took off just now is turned into an instant tourniquet on his thigh. The blood drips slower than it did, but it keeps ruining your carpet.

“Yeah, I bet the crocodile spirits hate you right now.” You mutter under your breath, snatching a face mask from the first-aid kit, taking a small inhale after you put it over your face.

Much, much better now.

Lloyd snorts out a short laugh, “You look like one of those bird-man in the Middle Ages when they are battling the plague.”

“Yeah well,” You place your hand on your hips, feeling somewhat braver to deal with this bloody mess all over your living room, “You’re about to bleed out on my couch, so let’s start with you telling me what else I can help with.”

Lloyd spares a glance at you when he’s busy rolling the gauze and pressing it onto his gunshot wound, his expression uninterpretable. Though you would guess that he is mildly impressed.

“Got any liquor? Something strong?” He raises his brows almost challengingly, “I don’t see any painkillers here, so … Bourbon? Whiskey? Scotch? Anything?”

You do have a bottle of whiskey that your cousin gave to you when you moved in. He’d come to visit and lend a helping hand from time to time. You take two glasses from the cupboard and half a bottle of whiskey.

You could use some liquid courage with a murder scene and your psycho boss in the middle of this lovely condo.

With the aid of whiskey and your patching and cleaning of the rest of the wounds, Lloyd is able to sleep through the night soundly without worrying about being a rigid corpse in the morning.

Yawning, and accidentally stretching his patched-up wounds, he allows a string of curses to flow out of his lips. Judging by the sunlight peeking through your curtains, he’d say it’s 9 or 10 in the morning. Last night, he was tired when the adrenaline gradually faded away, and he did not have the chance to take a close look at your – used to be his – place.

You did not put this place through any major changes, just some minor traces, reminding him that he is, in a sense, invading this cozy little apartment with his banged-up body.

With a decent set of fresh suit, shirt, and tie on the chair beside the bed.

Faint murmurs come from the other side of the door, Lloyd tenses up immediately, pulling his gun under the pillow, where he stocked last night, and turns the doorknob slowly.

“… shut up.” He hears you smack someone’s arm jokingly.

Your voice blends in with the voice in his memory of last night, when he winced in pain as you tried to take out glass shards from his forehead with a pair of tweezers, when he swung another gulp of whiskey from the bottle.

“Fucking hell, woman, I swear you’re trying to scoop my brains out rather than finding the glass pieces.” He grumbled.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kick you out, Mr. Hansen. Now I’m kindly asking you to shut up so I can take care of your wounds before it could get any worse.” You said impatiently, having struggled between the discomfort in your stomach and your determination to get him patched up, but adjusted your attitude soon after, keeping your mouth shut and pushing his upper body so he would lean on the couch and be still, while you turned on the flashlight to search the little glass piece on his forehead.

The warm and shallow breath fell on the ridge of his nose. It was broken, sure, tingling and itching, but it also meant that you were close, close enough to kiss-

“Cuz, are you sure that-”

The male voice is cut off when Lloyd in a black suit appears in front of you and a young man. One of his hands behind his back, you know far too well he’s holding the gun and will shoot your cousin’s brain out if you don’t explain quickly.

“Morning Mr. Hansen. This is my cousin, Connor Ashborne, studying at UCLA Med School.” You smile politely towards your boss, “I called for him to check up on you, since you refused to go to any doctor with a gunshot wound. He’s here to provide professional medical assistance.”

“Mr. Hansen,” the young man extends his hand for Lloyd to shake, “I’ve heard of a lot of things about you.”

“Lots of bad things, I hope.” Lloyd throws in a comment half-sarcastically, plopping himself down on the couch, ignoring your cousin’s extending hand, “Shit.” When he stretches his wounds again, the gauze must have clotted with his flesh for this level of pain.

“Cuz?” Conner turns his choice to your hand, “It’s your call. I can’t force your boss to do anything.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You mutter, “He’s more stubborn than a bull with eyes on the red flag.”

“Careful there, sunshine.” Lloyd gulps down some whiskey, numbing the pain in his thigh, “I can hear ya’ loud and clear.”

You silently shrugged towards your cousin, letting him know that you could not be of help any more than he did. “You should probably head to your classes.” You speak softly towards Connor, “Say hi to your sister for me, will you?”

“Sure thing, cuz. Remember those antibiotics and pain meds for the... patient in the kit.” He pulls you into a hug, “No need to thank me, I know, I'm one of a kind.”

Yeah, he's a one-of-a-kind dick when he wants to be. You can't help but smile knowing that his ego bloated after coming to your aid.

“I’ll see you around Christmas, yeah?”He asks.

“Around Christmas.” You confirm, patting his back.

Connor shoots you a wink and a “Bye, cuz”, grabbing the bicycle helmet on the kitchen counter and rushing out of your apartment like a gust of wind.

"A-hem." Lloyd clears his throat.

You let out a long exhale, realizing the big problem-o is still sitting on the couch like he owns this place – he indeed still does, as you have helped combing through his real estate. He owns the whole residential community – more specifically, has a lot of shares in the company which runs this residence, at the very least. Putting your best, and most professional courtesy on, you ask Lloyd, “I’ve called Denny earlier this morning. He’s now driving around the block. Denny has driven to your place and picked up the usual breakfast from your cook. Should I call him and tell him to come up? Or you’d like to head to the office right now?”

“Tell him to come up. I’ve been shot. It seems fair to skip work this morning.” Lloyd has the usual smug smile on his face. Stepping into his crocodile shoes onto the floor, spreading his arms over the couch, he looks down at the ground before narrowing his eyes and raising a sharp question: “You’ve had the carpet thrown out?”

Of course, you’ve had the carpet thrown out. Or you would throw up five times per hour.

You thought so when carrying the blood-soaked carpet downstairs, after making sure Lloyd was asleep around midnight. As his secretary, it is your job to make sure he doesn’t have to worry about anything besides his business.

You carried the carpet downstairs, avoiding cameras as carefully as possible, with your ridiculous scuba goggles and face mask on, and dumped the carpet, into another residence trash can two blocks further. With his blood and his scent on it, it is easy to lure those henchmen away if they bring hounds to search for Lloyd.

Lloyd does not go down without a fight, that you were certain. You were also certain of the fact that the transaction gone wrong would make relative parties involved less than happy, hence the ambush at Doc’s place. If they struck once, it seemed possible that they would strike again, knowing that Lloyd was hurt.

Also packing hydrogen peroxide, a powerful bleach, and a pack of Q-tips with you, you carefully erased the traces of Lloyd’s blood from the street to your residence building, and inside the elevator.

“Miss Y/L/N!” The security guard exclaimed on seeing you back inside the building. He was smart enough not to comment on you pulling your scuba goggles and face mask off, but smiled warmly, “A rough night?”

You smile back, “Hi Henry. I hate to pull ranks on you, Henry, I really do. But in less than ten minutes you are going to get a call from your boss, who has gotten a call from his boss, asking you to do exactly what I tell you to, which is to make a copy of the surveillance footage of the security cameras, and delete the original copy stored in the computers stored somewhere in this building. You are also going to tell me whether anyone has dropped by when your shift ends this morning, who looks suspicious, asking questions even though they don’t live here.”

The smile froze on Henry’s face, “Miss Y/L/N, it’s against the company orders…”

Just then, the phone on Henry’s desk rang, which Henry took the minute it made a sound.

The smile turned to a serious frown.

“…Yes. Yes, Sir. I’ll see to it.” He hung up the phone after a polite “Good night”, straightening his security guard uniform, and moved around the desk, “This way, Ma’am.”

After burying your head in the toilet bowl and throwing up almost half an hour ago, you had used your cell phone and called Lloyd's business partner up ahead, told him that Lloyd had issued a command to erase surveillance camera footage of a specific building and asked to keep a copy.

His business partner, hauled up from his bed because of this phone call in the middle of the night, knew better than to refuse.

… and that was why the Russian mob drove through the block later that morning at 1 a.m. and did not find a trace of Lloyd taking shelter in your condo after circling the area for quite some time.

Taglist (Also tagging those who might be interested): @stargazingfangirl18 @sarahdonald87 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @magnificentsaladllama @biteofcherry @petalj @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @thezombieprostitute @yiiiikesmish @warriorblu @vonalyn @notathingjustthere @lokislady82 @irishhappiness @toozmanykids @alicedopey @cakesandtom @universitypenguin @openup-yourmind @helenaeisenhower @wilsons-striped-ties @tittittoee @bean-is-reading

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#lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fluff #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen #the grey man #mob!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen angst

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legendofmorons · 1 year

Text

Meetings (Fierce)

Pairing: Fierce x reader

Rating: G

Summary: You don the mask only for it to be ripped away mid battle. The boys are able to save you but the mask is broken. Fierce tries to check on you to varying success rates.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, nothing too bad

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

-------

Fierce has known about you since the first night you joined his host. He knows you see Time as family - but oh, Fierce thinks of you as an angel on earth. Perhaps a deity yourself.

You are unlike any of the boys. Unlike anyone he's ever met.

Your hands take his mask prison, gentle with new calloused forming. You're crying as you raise the mask to your face.

(Y/n)!" Time calls, "You don't have to-"

"I do." You say, pressing the mask to your face.

You scream - Fierce wishes it wasn't such a shock to gain his power. That it didn't hurt everyone who does this.

Hello, dear one. Let me help.

Your own thoughts greet him, 'Please just help. I need to protect them.'

I'll help you.

'Do you- really drive people mad?' You question, and it hurts him.

But he cannot lie to you.

When someone chooses unearned cruelty, I do.

And then you seem to relax. His power seeps into you, turning your eyes pure white and your hair turning to match.

He guides you, regretting every moment you might possibly be in danger.

He loses track of time.

The blood you shed under his helping hand is a sin.

One he will bear proudly as long as you make it out.

He hears your scream as something pulls his mask off of you against both your will and his.

It all goes black.

He is still attached to you, jist enough to feel you still fight. To hear someone call your name- his host.

He can feel from Time that you are safe. See out of Time's second open eye. Something is very wrong- but you and the others are safe...

Good.

.......

You are curled into the cloak Time set around your shoulders, the older man more than a little worried for you.

Warriors sits on your left, allowing you to lean against him as your body recovers.

"I'm so sorry. I should have -" You start an unneeded apology again.

"You did everything right. I've never had the mask ripped from me mid use- you protected us all. Long enough for us to heal and save you." Time says firmly.

"But I lost the-"

"We'll get it back. Right now, our concern is you." Time reassures, "Please. You need to rest."

You are too tired to really argue. Too far gone from the fight and the sudden ripping of the mask.

You feel a presence, tensing. It's strong, almost intimidating.

"Guys-"

The boys are already moving, swords drawn as they're push to their feet.

Warriors and Wild stand in front of and behind you, keeping your exhausted form safe.

From the tree line, a large Hylian figure holding what looks to be two halves of a mask emerges.

He's tall- insanely tall. Like, eight foot tall.

His hair is white.

His eyes - even from thirty feet away are unnaturally snow colored.

His face is covered in markings - the markings of f the mask you'd just used.

"Hello, young one." The man says, his voice like rolling thunder.

"You're free." Time says, sounding genuinely surprised.

"I am."

"Who-" you start, but you already know. This is the fierce deity.

"How?" Warriors asks, his own experience with the mask harrowing for him. More from the necessity than the deity himself.

"The mask broke. Where are they?"

"Where is who, Fierce?" Time asks, moving between the deity and the group.

"(Y/n). Never before has the mask been so suddenly ripped off during combat. Are-... Do you think I would harm you, Link?"

The deity sounds curious. Maybe just a little hurt. His gaze is stoney, but he dosen’t seem like he's itching for a fight either.

Time stares at him, "You're free for the first time in years. I don't know what you'll do."

"I would never hurt you. You are mine. My young hero."

"I'm not so young these days."

"No, I suppose not. You go by Time now, yes?"

"I do."

"Time, I do not wish to cause harm. "

Time seems weary, but he nods slowly as he takes one large side step so Fierce can survey the group.

Weapons are still clutched.

Wild and Warriors still flank you on either side, almost daring the deity to try to attack.

"(Y/n)." Fierce says, his eyes drawn to you, "are you hurt?"

"No... Hyrule helped me."

"Were you hurt then?"

"Some."

Fierce moves slowly, caution as he walks to you. Stopping a few inches away.

He reaches, gently, to touch your face. The back of his knuckles rest on your cheek as he stares at you.

"I truly apologize. For any harm I caused to you."

"I'd be worse off. Thanks for helping me."

"You, my dear one, I will always help."

Warriors blinks, confused, surprised, and a little disturbed.

You stare wide-eyed at the man before you, something about a war deity being so gentle is sweet. You're not sure you deserve it... but you appreciate it a lot.

"Thank you."

"They need to sleep still." Time says, "Ypu know what your mask does to people- did. What it did."

Fierce simply nods, "You had all better rest. I will keep watch as you sleep."

"I don't-" Warriors starts only for you to cut him off.

"Thank you. We do all need the rest." You say with a soft smile.

"Then you shoukd rest. I will keep you safe until you all are naturally rested."

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu fierce deity #fierce deity x reader

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baldursgat3 · 6 months

Text

we're slowly finishing things out here boys. companion piece to this one.

we got 4.3k more words of childhood best friend Tav (who I made a wizard because). act 3 edition this time 🎉

~*~*~

There it was: home. The city you had grown up in. How long had it been since you'd seen these streets? How many months had you been venturing across the Sword Coast with a mission to stop some gods? However long it had been, you were here now.

It was a bittersweet reunion, though. After your meeting with Gortash mere moments ago, no one was feeling particularly at ease. Wyll and Karlach in particular were half seething about the tenuous alliance you'd formed with the new archduke. You had no intention of making good on his offer, but safety from the Steel Watch was the only way you were going to get anything done.

Gale led the charge, his targets set on Sorcerous Sundries. He chatted away about the various books and baubles he'd found there over the years as you walked the busy streets.

Glancing back, you noticed your favorite vampire lagging behind the group. He stared up at the buildings and at the bushes that lined the pavement, all with stars in his eyes. They dimmed when he caught you watching him as he glanced away, awkwardly.

You slowed your pace to fall in step with him, leaning in to whisper as you walked. "You never look at me like that."

"Nonsense." He scoffed, waving a hand at you, dismissively. "Have you seen yourself after a battle? Half the time it takes all my focus not to look at you like you're my next meal."

"Half the time I am your next meal." You gently bumped your shoulder against his. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it's just… it's been two hundred years since I've seen these streets in the sunlight. It's all so… colorful." His gaze drifted back to a small pot of lovely blue flowers as you passed by.

It was so genuine, you couldn't help yourself. You reached down to link your fingers with his, giving his hand a soft squeeze. "Do you remember the last time we were here?"

"Oh, darling, of course I don't."

"That's all right, neither do I. Why would I have taken you to the magic trinket shop?" You tossed him a cheeky grin as he rolled his eyes and yanked his hand away.

"I can't fucking stand you, you know that?"

"I know."

"If you two are done flirting back there," Gale's voice stopped you as you both became aware of all the attention now of you. "As our intrepid leader and person with all our gold in their bag, I do believe Tav should be heading this mission."

"You just don't want to talk to Rolan." Shadowheart chided, continuing past Gale and into the magic shop.

He turned on his heel, following after her, his voice dropping to a hissed out whisper. "We don't want the person selling us things to be angry with us and I can't keep my mouth shut, you know that."

Every so often you forgot you were still on a mission. Sometimes, as you perused a bookshelf and your companions squabbled over who should get to use a certain magic item, it all felt so mundane. Like it was any other day out with some friends.

Astarion was stood beside you, flipping through a book absentmindedly as you debated whether the magical benefit of the boots you were holding outweighed the fact that they didn't really match your outfit.

"You bought me a ring here." He broke the comfortable silence between you, without looking up from the book. You glanced over at him, tilting your head and humming a curious note in response.

"I remember." He continued. "When you had first started learning magic. You brought me here and I didn't understand anything you were saying. I remember you being so excited, though."

He'd stopped turning the pages of the book, just staring at it like he was reading the memory off it's pages. "You bought me a ring, a cheap little thing, because you wanted me to feel what it was like, casting spells, and you couldn't get me to figure out how to do it without an item to help."

A wistful smile found it's way to his lips as he glanced up at you. "I'd entirely forgotten. I always kept it, you know. Even though I absolutely did not get what you felt with magic. It was a nice gift, though."

You laughed softly, reaching out to grab his hand again. "Well, I'm glad you liked it." He didn't remember much about the specifics of your past together. You couldn't blame him, he'd been through so much. Every so often though, something would trigger a memory for him.

He smiled at you warmly for a moment before pulling back to put his book away. "Don't get those boots, by the way, they're hideous."

~*~*~

It was a gorgeous night. There was a faint chill to the air that left your cheeks a bit flushed, but nothing unmanageable. It was comfortable and quiet. The stars were beautiful, twinkling like little diamonds in the sky. Perhaps you should've been a bard, with thoughts like that.

The rest of your companions had gone to bed, while you and your ice cold vampire lingered by the fire. He was laying on his side with his knees drawn up close. His head rested in your lap as your fingers brushed lazily through his curls.

Neither of you minded the silence, you just enjoyed the comfort of being next to each other. He was still pretty averse to taking your intimacy too far, not that you minded. He had plenty of reason to be and you felt no need to push it. These moments were more than enough for you. The two of you had centuries of quiet, lovely moments to make up for.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. Eventually he broke the silence, turning his head to glance up at you. "Can I ask you a… strange question?"

Well that could be literally anything. "Sure?"

He turned back to the fire, settling back in. "Do you remember what color my eyes were? I know they're red now, I've been told so many times. I've heard they're gorgeous." He drolled, sarcastically.

That wasn't exactly what you were expecting but it did melt your heart a little. You obviously knew, though you felt it was probably wise to pretend you didn't have that answer already nocked on your bow. "Oh, um…" Nailed it. "They were brown. Like a deep, cool brown." That was probably too much.

He just hummed in response, seemingly unbothered that you would remember the undertones of his eyes after two centuries. "See, I couldn't remember. I've tried to picture it but I always felt it was either brown or an icy blue. I think my mother had blue eyes like that."

"I think so." You could probably count the number of times you'd spoken to his mother since you moved out of her home at 20. You did not know the color of her eyes.

"It doesn't help, I really don't think I even know what I look like anymore. I haven't seen my own face since I became a vampire." You hadn't really thought about that, honestly. He'd mentioned being unable to see his reflection once or twice but you'd never actually grasped what that must be like for him.

"Oh. Get up, get up. Stand up, I have an idea." You gently pushed on his shoulder, getting an irritated whine in return.

"I'm comfortable."

"I know but get up."

He groaned, pushing himself off the ground with a huff as you quickly followed suit. Your eyes sparkled as you quietly muttered an incantation. Astarion tried to raise a question but was silenced as you finished the somatic component of your spell.

All of a sudden, standing in front of him, reflecting his shock, was a mirrored image of himself. Just as perfect and lovely as he was. He just stood there for a moment, staring at himself in the firelight. "Oh… Gods, do I really look that old?"

You couldn't help laughing at him softly as he reached up to touch his face. He stared intently at his copy as it mimicked his movements. "We are almost 250 years old."

"I look older than Halsin!"

"You do not. And I know you think he's gorgeous, don't even act like that's an insult."

"You never let me bitch the way I want."

"I don't let you pretend you're blind, apparently." You were so glad this went well. There had been a vague worry that he might be more upset at seeing himself as a vampire but he mostly just seemed fascinated by his features.

"Well, all I can say is gods no wonder everyone always said they were 'blood red.' Seems a little on the nose though, don't you think?"

"I think they're beautiful."

"Of course you do, you have to or I'll cry." He threw you a grin before turning back to the reflection. "Thank you, for this. I always knew supporting your studies would be useful to me some day."

You rolled your eyes at him, a warm smile lighting up your face. "I am ever at your service, my love."

~*~*~

If you were being honest, you wanted to be a little selfish. Astarion had told you enough stories of his time with Cazador that you could feel the ache to end his pathetic life deep in your bones. You knew Astarion had far more claim to the act than you did, but that didn't stop you from craving it.

It didn't help that there was a part of you that wanted to beg Astarion just to stay at camp. You would take the party and destroy Cazador without him being able to even look at your darling again, let alone hurt him.

But you also knew that wasn't what Astarion wanted or needed. He had to be there, he had to be the one to kill Cazador. Besides, ever since Raphael had told you the nature of the ritual, he'd been obsessed with the idea of stealing that power from him.

You didn't care for that aspect of things. It was a delicate subject and you knew how fragile Astarion was when it came to Cazador. You had to tread lightly every time the subject had come up.

As you stood there in front of the door to the ritual chamber, everything was coming to a head. The uncertainty of the situation gripped your heart, you had no idea what world you would be walking back into once you stepped through those doors.

Over the months you'd been together, you had gotten better at reading Astarion's body language and expressions. He was still difficult to pin down at times and, when he really didn't want to be read, it was like staring at a blank wall.

Now was one of those times. He was stiff as a board, staring at the door ahead of you all. His jaw was locked and his fists clenched so tight at his sides you could see them starting to tremble.

"We'll follow your lead." Your voice was gentle, as you covered one of his fists with both of your hands. "I'm here, I won't let him have you no matter what. We're going to destroy him."

He drew in a shaky breath, his hands stilling in your hold. "Make him suffer." Without another sound he forced the large doors open, drawing the attention of everyone gathered at this Black Mass.

After a moment of stillness that settled in the enormous chamber, Astarion began to move down the stairs. He held his shoulders squared as you followed directly behind, the rest of your party in tow.

"Can it be?" You'd never heard Cazador's voice before. You didn't expect such a slimy, petulant tone but, then again, it was so fitting for such a repulsive man. "Has our prodigal son truly returned to us?"

You watched with building pride as your love held his ground. As he spoke out of turn and insulted the man who had ruined his life. He deserved it, and you did your best to be an imposing figure behind him, though you suspected Halsin was doing a better job of it.

It wasn't until he threw a punch that you realized how dangerous this endeavor truly was. You saw how easily Cazador controlled his body, despite the parasite granting him some level of autonomy. It clearly wasn't enough as you'd hoped.

He was ripped away from you, thrown helplessly into this ritual. A countdown started, you only had a matter of moments before he would complete this ritual. You had to move. So why were your feet locked to the floor?

You stood there, staring in horror at Astarion, locked into this ritual, desperately watching you. Your mind flashed with images of him being destroyed right in front of you. The idea of losing him again, especially now that you were closer than you ever could've dreamed, it paralyzed you.

You felt someone push you forward, you heard Gale's voice. "Move!" He sent a bolt of lightning straight past you, directly into the chest of one of the creatures that fought to defend Cazador.

It was all you needed. Your mind snapped back to the present, a fire burning in your eyes as you and your party waged a bloody battle against the vampire lord. Someone had managed to pull Astarion out of the ritual, buying more time for you all to kill the monsters and bats that defended Cazador from your attacks.

You heard it before you saw it, a choked out sound as Astarion ran a blade through that vile man's chest. You watched him discorporate as he was pulled back to his coffin to regenerate.

Now that he was gone, you made quick work of the remaining threats, until the room was nearly silent. You could hear Astarion's footsteps splashing through all the blood that was spilled as he sprinted towards the coffin.

No one was doing well. It was a vicious, bloody battle that you narrowly managed to win. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Shadowheart pouring healing magic into a half dead Karlach. Gale had immediately collapsed against the nearest wall, clutching at a wound in his side. Halsin was the only one doing even remotely well and that was only because he could turn into a bear over and over. You knew this fight had wiped him of all his wild shapes, though, and he still was battered and bruised.

Astarion wasn't faring any better, but he didn't seem to care. He shoved the lid of the sarcophagus open, ripping Cazador out and throwing him to the ground. You saw a fury, a bloodlust in his eyes that you'd never seen before. It was terrifying really. He clutched the ritual dagger in his hand as he stalked towards the now pitiful looking vampire.

You didn't know what to do, honestly. You didn't know what Astarion was going to do. You watched as he threatened the man before him, as he taunted him with the idea of taking his place in the ritual.

It didn't feel great, but you felt a spark of hope in your chest when Cazador explained that the ritual would just destroy him if he tried to replace him. Maybe this would convince him he couldn't ascend.

That hope was dashed as he turned to you. "I need your help. I can use the parasite to look through your eyes, copy my scars onto him. I'll complete the ritual, then I can protect you." His eyes looked so gentle and hopeful. It was so sweet compared to what he was asking of you.

"Astarion…"

"Please. I know you think it's a bad idea but I need you to trust me. I'll be free. Powerful. Strong enough to protect you. To protect myself." He looked so desperate. "If I do this I won't ever, ever have to leave your side again. No one would be able to separate us again."

It was so rare that one could recognize a life-changing moment from within it, let alone have time to prepare. And here you were in that exact position, no more prepared than the moment you first learned what was to come. You had to respond to him and you still didn't know what you were going to do. "I… can't…"

You could see the heartbreak in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, still keeping his blade pointed towards Cazador. "My love… this is the only chance we'll ever get at this. Help me with this, we can be free forever. Together."

"Astarion, this isn't you."

"No." He hissed, his eyes darkening. "This isn't what you want me to be. You still want me to be the old Astarion. The best friend Astarion. Awkward little pathetic weakling Astarion. That Astarion is gone don't you fucking get that, after all this?"

He was so angry, you were so scared.

"I don't want old Astarion. He's not you, I know that. I'm sorry if I ever make you feel like that's who you have to be." You stepped a bit closer, reaching a hand out, tentatively. "I buried him 200 years ago, he's gone.

"But there's a new Astarion. Right in front of you. Whatever happens now, you're not going to walk out of here the same. I- I'm going to leave this room, hand in hand with a brand new Astarion. You have to choose right now who he's going to be." Your eyes filled with tears as you spoke. You'd made your decision. It didn't matter that you could feel the others hanging on your words with varying levels of disapproval.

Your voice was so soft, nearly getting lost in the vast, open chamber. "I love you, Star. I trust you. Whatever you need, I just want you to be someone you're proud of."

You watched his face flood with emotions that you couldn't begin to keep up with. Truly, you couldn't imagine what he must be feeling but you imagined it felt a lot like drowning. The hand that held the dagger trembled. His eyes flicked between it, you, and the cowering worm at his feet.

He was so obviously torn, split between a decision that would change him forever. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, you hoped against hope he would make the right choice.

For a moment, as his face hardened, you feared he was about to choose this ascension. To destroy seven thousand souls and marr his own beyond repair. Then he turned, gripping Cazador by the hair as he rammed the blade into his chest.

Over and over and over, you watched as Astarion eviscerated his tormentor, coating his hands in Cazador's vile blood. Your heart broke, hearing the way he screamed. Two centuries of anguish ripping it's way out of his lungs and it wasn't enough.

He stopped gutting the man long after he had stilled underneath him, finally sitting back on his heels. The air was still and heavy, broken only by an agonized sob that struck you straight to the core.

In an instant, you were at his side, kneeling into the pool of blood that surrounded him. You weren't sure what to do, exactly. If you should try to comfort him or just let him get it out. You reached a hand out, ever so tenderly touching his shoulder, just enough to let him know you were there.

He didn't even look at you, he just collapsed into you. He clung desperately to your shirt as sobs wracked his body. Every emotion that had his heart clutched in their grasp bubbling to the surface and spilling over. It broke your heart to hear him cry like this, even if you knew the core of it was finally, finally relief.

After a minute or so of weeping into your arms, he pushed himself back. He swiped at the tears that stained his face, only succeeding in smearing blood everywhere. "Gods… you've got to stop letting me do that."

"I won't." You reached out to try to clean some of the blood from his face. You all needed a good bath.

~*~*~

The camp was quieter than normal. The battle has taken its toll on all of you. Everyone was dead asleep as far as you could tell. Save for you and your darling.

You were curled up together in your tent, he was practically laying on top of you, with a leg tossed over yours and an arm wrapped tight around you. His head rested comfortably against your chest as you ran your fingers lazily through his hair.

It was so soft and wonderful. You had been so afraid of what today would bring but you couldn't have wished for a better ending. Your mind wouldn't still, though. Replaying the battle, the choices you made, the choices he made.

"Your heart is racing, love." Astarion's voice shocked you out of your thoughts, pulling you into the quiet present.

"Mm… I just keep thinking about today." You kept your voice so soft, as though you could shatter the moment if you spoke too loud. "Do you think freeing all of the spawn was the right choice?"

"I do." That was shocking, actually. He sounded so confident, especially after being the one to initially raise the valid concern of how dangerous they could be.

"You're the one who made it." He continued. "Do I sometimes think you're too liberal with who you help and why? Sure. But… you've kept all of us safe. And we have so many allies that I would've never made on my own. Because you're so painfully nice. I trust your choices."

That was so much more reassuring than you'd expected. You didn't really know what to say. "Well… thank you." You absentmindedly twirled one of his curls between your fingers.

"That's not really what you want to talk about, is it?"

Of course you wanted to talk about the decision he made. You weren't exactly sure what you wanted to say and you hadn't planned on bringing it up but it was nearly all you could think about. "Only if you want to talk about it."

"I think we ought to." He didn't sound thrilled about the idea but it was kind of a big deal.

You hummed softly in response as the quiet night settled between you again. Neither of you were exactly sure what could even be said.

"Thank you." He whispered, finally, after a few moments of silence. "For… believing… in me. I don't deserve you."

"You deserve the world, Star."

"Maybe. I don't need it though." He sighed softly, his fingers tightening their hold on your shirt. "I was angry with you, at first, you know? I wanted you to say yes. I wanted you to support me with your whole heart. I needed that power so badly, and you wouldn't tell me that was okay. I was furious.

"But, and you do have to bear with me because it's horribly cheesy, but I walked outside with you. I was free, we were together and I just- ugh.” He sighed. “I really did realize that I didn’t need it.”

You dropped a kiss to the top of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled back. “That was cheesy, you’re right.” You couldn’t help laughing as he let go of your shirt just long enough to flash quite the rude hand gesture in your direction.

“I mean it, you bastard.” The irritation in his voice was laced with so much fondness your heart ached. “Just because I’m mysterious and unknowable doesn’t mean I’m not capable of genuine moments.”

“You wish you were unknowable.”

“You’re making it so difficult to love you right now, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You laughed softly. “I’m done, I promise. I really am so- so proud of you, you know?” Your other hand came up to cover his, gently running your thumb over his knuckles as you spoke. “I would’ve followed you no matter what but… I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped you’d choose this.”

He smiled softly, closing his eyes and just listening to your heart beating in your chest. Every nightmare he’d ever lived through, every night spent in agony, spent wishing for death - it was all over now. He was free, he was here with you, safe and warm and loved. He wouldn’t say it was worth it, there were so many horrors he knew he would never forget. But he was suddenly, perhaps for the first time, so endlessly grateful he had survived it.

Nothing would change the things he had done, nothing would change what had been done to him. He had been irreparably damaged by so much of it but it was finally, finally over. He could start to mend now. And he had you. You didn’t care that he wasn’t the same person you had loved as a child, you loved him now just as he was, broken and all.

“You made me want to be someone worthy of everything you’ve given me. It wasn’t much of a choice, really. I wanted it so badly because I was so… scared.” He gave a soft, breathy laugh. “You made me brave enough to do the right thing, I suppose. You’ve really made a hopeless romantic out of me.”

“Good. I like when you get sappy.” You grinned, giving his hand a squeeze. “Still. Thank you for choosing this.”

“My darling, I simply chose you.”

#bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 6 months

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✯𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟?✯

Notes: So like... @mjtheartist04's Little Red Riding AU, amiright??? 👀 This is just a little gift for my pookie 😚🫶🏻 gotta say this one's pulling me out of a writers block, so thanks for having such a clever dream, 'Jay!! 🩶❤️🩶

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"I don't believe in fairytales, Genya." Rika stated with a mear shrug, her eyes leaving the young innkeeper as she glances back at the picture etched into the aged paper of a wolf, baring its large teeth at a little girl cowering against a tree deep into dark woods. She closes the burgundy leather clad book, setting it back down atop the dark oak front desk that Genya had tapping his finger against, the tapping in sync with his anxious leg bobbing, causing small whines to leave the old floorboards.

He only grunts in response, his jaw taught as he almost seemed to be grinding his teeth behind his tight lips. It wasn't new to Rika about his behavior, but something about it of all nights felt... Off.

"What? Don't believe in the Big, Bad Wolf?" Genya stated - almost genuine, and Rika would have considered it so if it weren't for the slightly raising of his brows that implicated his comment was supposed to be taken with humor.

Rika returned it with a grin splaying across her lips, bringing a hand up to the end of her crimson colored hood, tugging at it like one would tipping a hat, the action causing some of her Prussian hair to fall at her shoulders from where it had been hidden behind the vibrant fabric. "If that were true, I wouldn't have a job, now would I?" She strides across the room, not leaving Genya's train of eyesight - both not daring to break it just yet.

"To say The Big Bad Wolf would be insinuating the folks around this village believe we're dealing with a Werewolf problem which, of course, is ridiculous." Rika says, Genya tilting his head ever so slightly, eyes squitning just a tad, as though he wasn't curious by the theory, but almost offended.

"Even then, the problem is as obvious as finding the difference between water and wine." Rika gives a lopsided grin, leaning a window at the front of the dimly lit inn.

"Sheep and other wildlife disappearing or found mangled is a simple conclusion: it's just a pack of hungry wolves - actual wolves, I mean. And they just need to be relocated or taken care of."

She turns to the window, using two of her fingers to pry open the dark fusia curtains, just enough to take a peek outside and see her horse chewing at a few weeds that had crept from a few floorboards beneath near the stone streets. For some reason, she didn't feel comfortable on the idea of leaving him out there any longer, wanting to get him to a stable soon before the sun had fully set in only a few minutes.

"Look at that moon... It's beautiful tonight." Rika spoke, her voice a little softer now, dual colored eyes trained on the full pale beauty in the night sky, glistening against her iris’s of blue and pink. "Wven in the dark of night, something about their always being a light, even behind murky clouds... It makes you feel safe, doesn't it?"

"Funny." Genya spits bitterly, his voice breathy and muttered - but Rika caught the venom, almost feeling as though it was aimed at her. "It's funny what the moon does to people." He finishes after a second of silence, now seeing he had Rika’s attention.

Genya's execcent tapping against the counter came to a halt as his nail dug into the carvings, making a small squeaking noise at the traction of his nail splintering into it. He pulls away from it, trudging toward where Rika once was, eyes trained on the book, his buckled boots dragging across the floor, making a noise that didn't bring comfort to Rika, her brows furrowing.

"For most, it brings comfort, a feeling of safety," he picked it up, flipping through the pages, his fingers skimming along the assorted jumble of paragraphs and such, matched with pictures and depictions- his dark eyes lingering on a picture of a man, almost in aogny as his body began to morph into a clawed, fanged, yellow-eyed beast.

"For others, it's a curse, an omen, a warning... For people like me." He snaps the book shut with a feirce 'crack!' As the pages collided shut once more- earning a little flinch from Rika, who had now forgotten her attention on the sky outside, and kept her cautious gaze on the man in front of her.

"Genya... You're scaring me." She speaks, her voice faltering ever so slightly to prove that point, but she still kept her ground, finding her hand slowly making its way toward the hilt of her weapon, hidden behind her cloak.

"I know." Genya bluntly confirms, finally standing to his full height instead of hunched over the table. Something about him made him almost look taller now. "I can hear your panicked breathing."

The statement had already set enough alarm bells off in Rika’s head, enough for her to start backing away from her close friend- which she immediately regretted, cause Genya must've taken it as a challenge, and with each step she took backwards, he took a step forward.

"What good ears you have." Rika would have said it in a sarcastic dry tone if it weren't for the tremor in her voice, keeping her vocals to a mere mumble.

The pit in her stomach grew deeper and steeper with each step, unable to tear her eyes from Genya, almost in fear that if she did, he'd take that chance and jump at her. Hell. She didn't even want to blink. She felt so... Hunted.

"The better to hear your pretty little heart racing with."

In that moment, watching the cautious steps he took, the way his body almost hunched like an animal hiding in bushes and trees, his eyes trained and laser focused, not a sound coming from him other than his voice. He was like an animal stalking.

And she was prey.

"I can see it too. See your heart pounding in your ribcage... I can see it all." His eyes were like empty sockets, nothing but a blazing gold in place of iris’s that put the dim candlelight in the Inn to shame.

"W-what good eyes you have." Again, Rika stated, and with each one, she was beginning to see a side of Genya she knew she wasn't supposed to see. As a matter of fact, one she was supposed to ever find out about.

"The better to gaze at that face of yours morph into fear." Genya explained almost subtly, like it was passing conversation, his voice low and quiet - different from his usual behavior and mannerism. Rika didn't like it. This wasn't Genya. This wasn't her Genya.

It only took one final step before Rika felt the sensation of the wall, and the pit in her stomach formed so large that she was surprised it hadn't swallowed her whole. The beating in her chest started to sound louder, thundering in her ears so hard in almost hurt. The grip on her weapon stayed firm- but that's where it stayed, her body almost frozen with fear and defeat, leaving her unable to draw put and ready herself for the ever coming attack.

And now, finally unable to escape, she watched helplessly as Genya got closer - painfully slow in doing so, as if he was enjoying the sight as she realized she was cornered and unable to run. Not this time.

His lips curled into something sinister, all teeth and no smile, suddenly, pearly white fangs on display, prodding from his dark gums, his jaw tense and causing the muscles along his neck and collarbone to strain.

"W... What big teeth you have." Rika swallowed thickly, her throat feeling suddenly dry, her body both hot and cold as a sweat begins forming on the back of her neck, and a chill slithers up her spine, like daggers drawing into her skin. Her face was hot, and she thanked heaven above it was too dark to see the red shade her skin had began to become.

At this point, Genya is already too close for comfort. His now clawed hands were splayed out at each side of her face, his face far enough Rika begin could examine the new features starting to become apparent under the moonlight still creeping through the sliver of opened curtains... But he was close enough she could hear the low growl emiting from his throat with his slow rise and fall of his chest.

Genya opened his mouth as though to finish this little banter of words between them, but he simply laughs, a low, slow laugh, his head lolling to the side as he brings his face close to the side of her own, his almost manelike hair tickling against her tan skin, causing goosebumps to ripple along her shoulder.

He brings his hand down from where it was perched, his knuckle barely brushing against her cheek, the cold meeting her warmth was enough to even make him shudder. Tugging a long strand of her dark hair from where it was hidden behind her pointed ear, playing with the strand between his fingers.

"Now that you believe it," He starts, his voice gravelly and low, animalistic, something she hadn't heard out of him before. "Tell me something, Rika..." His breath was hot against her ear, making her hiss ever so slightly between her teeth, trying to cock back from the feeling, but only making contact with his other arm, caging her in.

"Are you scared of the Big, Bad Wolf?"

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spirits-art-blog · 11 months

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Time for some qsmp egg designs! Since I was working off of the idea that dragons adapt and change to look similar to their caregivers before they hatch, it was really difficult for some eggs since I don't know most of the members of the server + Pomme and Richarlyson have more than two parents. I also based the spots on their shells on their favorite colors, which was also difficult since the wiki doesn't have them all listed.

Anyways I'm glad with how these turned out.

Leaving explanations for all the design choices below for anyone curious.

Some basic details about the eggs, so far their colors have not completely set in so some of their original purple coloring can still be seen; this is most notable for Tilin, JuanaFlippa, and Trump, who all died before their new colors could get past their shells. All of the eggs started out quadrupedal but quickly adapted to stand on their hind legs as well as adapting to have opposable thumbs allowing them to pick up and use items.

Tallulah: Starting off, she has hair coming from the top of her head and the tip of her tail, the color and style are from Wilbur, however she hasn't seen much of his avian form so the positioning actually comes from Phil. Speaking of Phil, because she has been under his care for quite a while she has also gained many traits from him, such as an extra talon on the side of her heels and pin feathers sprouting from her front legs/arms. Her scales have also started changing to an orange hue, similar to that of my Wilbur's markings, and her secondary colors are a darker green because of Phil.

Bobby: Bobby is my favorite egg but gave me a lot of trouble due to not really knowing much about Roier so he pulls a lot of traits from Jaiden and the common traits of the fandom's designs. Like Tallulah he has pin feathers coming from his arms and extra talons, however his talons are on the back if his heel. Like Jaiden, he has a feathers on the tip of his tail. While his secondary is a lilac from Jaiden's influence his main color is a duller blue as the fandom has convinced me that he would've been blue if he got to hatch. I had drawn him alive for this, but once dead, he would have a large hole in his shell just under his overalls.

Chayanne: Probably the easiest design as his traits are about the same as Tallulah's. His tail feathers however are both shaped and patterned like Phil's own tail feathers. His scales are also green and gold to match Phil's clothing. Now that Missa is back, Chayanne's secondary may start to change into a purple/blue or, after he hatches, he may gain bone markings. Leonarda: Unfortunately most of her design comes from Foolish, such as her webbed feet, finned tail, and gold and silver coloring, the best I could figure out to add some of Vegetta's influence was to have the silver be more purple than the blue that Foolish has.

Ramon: Honestly just made Ramón shades of brown since I couldn't figure out much colorwise form Fit. However he does have other features such as a longer tail than most of the eggs, plus he is also the largest of his siblings. His iconic mustache is also made up of his larger spots, which he uniquely has white spots over top of the brown ones.

Dapper: Dapper was also an easy egg design since Bbh is his only parent, so I gave him the typical black and red palette as well as a longer tail with long fur coming from the bottom. His design might change a bit as I eventually figure out my design for Bbh.

Richarlyson: I'll be honest, I kinda gave up, I don't really know enough about the brazilian streamers to add any specific feature, so for color he is made up of a light green with alternating yellow and a dark green. He is also the only egg with spines running down his back, however they aren't sharp at all yet.

Pomme: While Pomme also has the problem of having many parents, I've seen her the most around Baghera, who has a very distinct look. So because of this, Pomme has many duck features, such as tail feathers, pin feathers on her arms, webbing between her toes, an extra talon on the back of her heel, and her main scale color being a more pastel yellow. For main colors, I decided to take the main color from the other french members, make the pastel, and have them alternate on Pomme.

Tilín: Like father like son, Tilín is, or at least would have been, very blue. He doesn't have any duck features due to his death being so early and that I also haven't decided if I want Quackity to be an avian or not. Tilín is also the smallest egg. :)

JuanaFlippa: Once again, due to dying so early, she wasn't able to develop a lot of traits or color. The traits she did get was a longer tail and she would've been a light green with yellow accents.

Trump: Unlike Tilín or JuanaFlippa who have large cracks in their shells to represent their deaths, Trump's shell has become soft and discolored, to the point his spots' original color cant be determined, to represent his death to neglect. Because of this, his limbs are thinner, tail is shorter and his scales are duller; any possible change in his colors is barely noticeable.

#qsmp #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp Bobby #qsmp leonarda #qsmp ramón #qsmp dapper #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp pomme #qsmp tilín #qsmp juanaflippa #qsmp trump #qsmp eggs

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ask-duotale-b2fc · 4 months

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✨️Duotale FAQ✨️

Just in case peeps ask questions a lot lol. Will add more as we go.

•What exactly is this AU about?

Its just a funny little AU where not all monsters were locked underground and some went into hiding instead. Some species of monster in this AU can take on human form with their magic, hence why this is possible. Of course, this doesnt stop kiddos, human or monster, from climbing that darn mountain though.

•When is the next page?

Duotale updates every Friday. Time varies but I try to keep it between 10am and 12pm EST. If either day falls on a holiday, the page will be posted the following day.

•Why is this AU called Duotale?

Because the two main characters are twins, hence the Duo in Duotale. Ok they aren't twins, but they are siblings, born a few months apart. Yes, Strawberry is the Older one.

•Is the player a thing in this AU?

Maybe, maybe not. Depends on the AUs in the Citadel. No one is controlling the Duotale cast though. They've had their own mind and actions from the start. Underplayer is in the Citadel though, if you count them as a player.

●Can my AU be featured in your comic?

Why yes. Just refer to the link in the Masterpost labeled "how to get your AU into the comic". Follow the rules, answer the questions, and you'll be in where we can fit you! Do note that we will try to spread everyone out through different MVC visits, so please, don't be upset if your appearance isn't automatic! You will be seen eventually before the story's end! Scene art and asks are a different story though.

•Will Kris make an appearance?

Yes :3. I'll leave it at that. Ralsei will make an appearance in asks or art, Susie may or may not be in the comic itself. Here's the boi. During the comic he's a lil toddler. (Gender explaination is below btw for those that care.)

•Is Kris gonna be Frisk or Luci's counterpart?

No. Neither. They will be their own person.

●Is Clover gonna make an appearance?

Like Kris, the cowboy ghost will be there, but unlike Kris, you won't see him in comic til the end. He will (and has already) pop up on our blog, like Dalv or Star sherrif boi, but in comic, sorry, hes in Asgore's castle and that's so far away right now lmao. But here's how he looks. Yes, he knows the fox stole his hat. He does not know where his gun is, though.

●Will xxx color soul child also be in this AU?

Depends. We already have the Yellow soul decided (obvi). If There's another colored child you wanna see pop up as a canon-to-duotale ghost at the end of the comic you can ask, but so far only Clover and MAYBE Marine(Patience soul) but the lore is off that comic might contradict yellow or ours so that's undecided. Any other kids so far would be only seen in the MVC. We're trying not to pick kids in full existing sets so thats why Clover and maybe Marine are our only choices so far. We are more likely to make up the rest tbh. No more red souls though beyond cameos. Red souls work a special way in our AU and there's not a lot (if any) that can fit that requirement.

•Can other ghosts see Chara/Luci?

Yes. And she can see said other ghosts. Strawberry can only see those that she summons and Blackberry can see ghosts as well. Frisky can sense spirits near him but obviously cannot see them.

●Why do some characters have rings around them?

That just means they're dead. Ghosts. Spirits that didn't move on to heven or hell. The ring color matches the color of their soul and doesn't change. Luci, Blackberry, Dalv, and Kris have special rings though. They change color based on emotions. This color changing mood ring is only available to one species and it starts becoming visible around puberty. Luci is fullblooded, hence why her ring is always visible and changing like a rainbow, though Blackie and Kris aren't fullblooded, so their rings might be a bit faultly ha. If you're every curious what the colors mean, you can refer to the link labeled "Luci's mood ring" on the master post. Or a more simplified list ca be found on her teen ref.

•What exactly are the main cast's species?

Blackie is is a halfbreed kitsune vampire, Luci is a purebreed vampire with demonic powers, Strawberry is a tanuki who practices witch magic, and Frisky is a human. He just has a magical scarf to give him wings like redbull. As for Kris... you'll figure it out. No spoilers, sorry lol.

•How did you come up with the idea of Duotale?

Originally this story was gonna be a comic of our own runs in Undertale, showing how they clash and would effect each other. Kinda like thise PMD comics and Nuzlocke animations people make. But somewhere between writing the script and making the first cover art, we changed our minds and made a whole AU instead.

•Is fanart allowed?

Yes uwu. You can find character info and all current ref sheets in the Masterpost, last section at the bottom :3 If ya tag me, I can reblog it in my main account so peeps can see it, and an account I have specifically for or art made by others so I wont lose it. Main account is @oatmealkitty . That is where all non ask/comic art goes.

•What ships are in this comic/blog?

Oh boy a hard question to answer. Ignoring any cameos, out of our own and JUST our own characters this is the list. I'm probably missing a LOT though as these are off the top of my mind.

•What are the pronouns of each character?

You will find all information on the masterpost, last section. If someone is missing we just didnt finish the refs yet. Apologies. Since I know MK, MTT and Blooky will be asked about due to lack of refs, they are all he/him here but Blooky and MK accept They/Them. Remember that this is an Alternate Universe, as in not sticking to the game's lore to a T. So please dont start a fuss over this. If canon versions of the characters ever speak or are spoken to in the Citadel, they will be referred to by the genders Toby (NOT THE FANDOM) placed on them, so be happy with that smh.

A note to avoid confusion since I KNOW this will cause issues if I don't give a bible explanation: WITHIN the comic, Kris' pronouns will be he/him, hence me calling the younger one he/him. Personally, I can't see a literal 3 year old toddler changing his gender or even caring about that. I know I sure didn't back then lol. I didn't care till damn near the end of highschool tbh. Soo, He starts requesting people use they/them (if possible) in his late teens as thats what I personally experienced. Sorry to anyone who wants out of the womb non binary/trans babies. Oh and when he's spoken to or about in another language, regaurdless of age, it will be male pronouns bc languages. Sorry, can't fix that either. That's just how languages work. So yeah, Tldr: In comic=he/him. In asks=they/them (he/him if non english language).

𖤐~~~~~~𖤐~~~~~~𖤐

✨️Asks✨️

•You can ask LITERALLY anything to ANYONE. Even the mods. All suggestive/sexual questions will be filtered with a label if need be.

•All questions will go to the post comic adult versions of the cast unless specified in the question, or unless we allow asks for the kiddos for some reason.

•You can ask spoiler based questions, but they will either be heavily censored or answered in a joking manner as to not give away everything that happens in the story.

•All asks that seem like spam will be ignored. I know we answered them before jokingly but after a while it becomes too much. Also! We will ignore asks about religion (offensive/forcing), racism, sexism, stuff like that.

#Duotale #FAQ #undertale #deltarune #undertale au #undertale blog #undertale ask blog #undertale art #undertale community #undertale askblog #undertale alternate timeline #undertale yellow #uty clover #utmv fanart #utdr fanart #utau fanart #ut yellow

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demonichikikomori · 1 year

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Twinsies

Cater Diamond and GN!Reader

Word Count Tumblr: 2.3k+

I think Cater is one of those people where they have matching everything with a partner or close friend. And with his Unique Magic: Split Card, doesn't it make even more sense? I love Sanrio and think that he and Reader should have matching charms, specifically the new KoGal Sanrio release. Okay, last note. So, I actually love Gal/Gyaru fashion. It’s so wild and fun and cute and I love the big hair and wild colors and the long long acrylic nails. I love the history behind the subculture as well and seeing how they came to be. I would gush over the Gyaru subculture more if it didn’t fit my current aesthetic. Hehe, I’m supposed to be a scary demon <3 <3 <3

SUMMARY:

Sam is selling something new today! So you and Cater head to his shop to check it out. The cutest charms you've ever seen is something Cater starts to fawn over, and he asks you to match with him. But, not just for MagiCam likes. But because he wants to be 'Twinsies'.

Tags: Fluff, Reader is referred to as ‘Babes’, it's not what you think

You felt a set of arms slither around your shoulders from behind. You had just left your final class of the day among the sea of students fleeing the wrath of the Professor in charge. You stopped and grazed your fingers over the person's arm with a smile, inhaling the familiar scent of cinnamon cologne as a wavy piece of orange hair playfully tickled your cheek. His chin rested in the crook of your neck as you caught an image of you and Cater Diamond reflected on his phone screen. “Say, cheese!” He winked and you threw up a quick peace sign with a sheepish grin as his thumb pressed the familiar circle icon.

The screen flashed with white film and he freed you from his grip with a toothy smile as he looked over the photo. “That was the best one so far this week babes!” He chirped and began swiping his finger over the picture. He was adding stickers and signing the corner with hearts, diamonds, x’s and o’s. “Lemme see it.” You requested and began walking alongside him through the clearing hall, peeking over to see him decorating your hair with little red and orange hearts.

You and Cater have become… Close. Surprisingly close. You felt as if the bond between you and the social butterfly was platonic, but other times felt a little more romantic than you expected. The way he was able to locate you in a sea of people during mixed school events never failed to amaze you. How casual you guys have grown between one another to share the same drink or bag of spicy chips. How he would come over to the Ramshackle Dorm, just to lay between your legs with his head on your chest while you were resting in bed or laying on the couch. Simply because he missed your company. The thing that made your heart flutter and sing the most was when he walked alongside you as the two of you talked. Especially when he would allow the fingers that weren’t clamped around his phone to graze yours. When he was confident in you returning the sentiment, you walked together with your pinkies hooked together. Neither of you said a word while it happened, and you remained in paired silence until you or Cater broke away to attend classes. Grim thought the casual acts of PDA were not as casual as you thought. Which led you to how you think of Cater now. You didn’t do any of this with Ace or Deuce, and they were your friends. So why was Cater the exception? Why did it feel like you were dating?

Why was it unspoken information that you probably are dating? You just were the last one to receive the memo.

The both of you strolled through the courtyard, passing the blooming apple blossoms high above your heads and the fluttering petals at your feet. “Now that I’ve made my ‘Perfect Prefect Post of the Day’ or, ‘3POTD’ for short, I can finally show you,” He appeared excited as he swiped his thumb over his screen to sort through his many open tabs. You closed in on the phone with curious eyes as he turned his phone to show you the screen. “This!” There were plush characters wearing school uniforms, piled up in a small wicker basket. Each one had colorful pastel gems stamped on their cheeks, holding little flip phones in their pawed hands. You recognized the fashion as your world’s equivalent of ‘Kogal’. The subculture was resurfacing in current times but you didn’t think that Twisted Wonderland would have anything like that. Although… Cater sometimes felt like the male equivalent of what was known as ‘Gal’.

“Aren’t they soooo so cute? Apparently Sam got a mix up in his usual shipment and he posted these, hoping they’ll sell on campus. I wanted to grab two for my sisters, and of course a matching pair for us to help him out.” He beamed, clearly hopeful that you would agree to go with him. A warmth bloomed in your chest and you imagined how it would look to have a matching charm with Cater. Grim would definitely call you dense if you just viewed this as a friend thing. “These two, don’t they look like a matching pair?”

You asked as you pointed to the photo. There was a white rabbit wearing a baby pink colored hat nestled right beside the one wearing a black hat with a pink skull printed on the front. The design choice looked as if they were meant to be the two sides of a similar coin. “I think you’re right. Maybe they’re sisters?” He suggested and you slowly narrowed your eyes. They looked… Familiar. But you weren’t sure how you recognized them. Were they cartoon characters? “It’s weird that I’ve never seen these characters before anywhere online. I searched them up like crazy because I wanted to show you but, nothing came up.” He sighed and turned off his phone with a frown.

“Even if I don’t know their names, I can’t deny their uniforms are like major league adorbies.” It was clear he didn’t want to buy something he didn’t know anything about, but the wrath of not sending his older sisters a souvenir like this outweighs everything else.

But these rabbits matched more than the dog and the cat. You wanted to match with Cater. “They are super cute… Let’s get those two rabbits then!” You suggested with a cheerful expression. You would have to silently apologize to his older sisters when you officially met them. The two of you walked side by side to Sam’s shop, passing other student’s as Cater took an occasional photo of his day to day. You could feel his free hand brushing against yours and you locked your pinkies together like always. The walk there was filled with Cater venting about how boring classes were without you and how Riddle had been all over him after scoring lower than usual on a test. “He needs to seriously chill sometimes.” Cater grumbled and used his free hand to scroll through his phone as you walked alongside each other. “It’s because he’s a Virgo Male. The stars really let him down.” The student rolled his eyes and began observing himself in his phone camera with a scowl. “I wonder if you and I are compatible. I’ll have to check later. Oh, but even if the stars say we aren’t, I can make it work out.” He laughed as you felt your ears start to burn.

He would make it work out. Even if the stars said there was zero chemistry between you, he was willing to make it work out.

As you reached Sam’s shop, your pinkies became unlinked the moment Cater pushed open the creaky wooden door. You admired the small decorations from outside the shop as you followed after him. Soft jazz music was playing overhead as Sam waved you in with a wide smile. His white makeup was absent today as he sat on top of his counter, one leg crossed over the other. “My little Imps, welcome in! What are you looking for? I know I have it in stock.” He purred as Cater pulled up the photo of the strange animal characters in school uniforms. “Where did you put these guys? I saw you posted them earlier and honestly they are to DIE for.” Cater beamed and Sam squinted his eyes at the phone as if to get a better look. “Oh, the strange toys that came in shipment! I wasn’t sure where to actually put them, they’re over in the corner.” He motioned to the far depths of the shop where shrunken heads were kept in jars and bizarre jewelry hung from the walls. You followed Cater past all the strange things, sticking close as you marveled at everything around you. Then you reached the basket where the stuffed animals resided. Fashionably dressed in school uniforms with their colorful flip-phones stitched to their paws. There were other things as well. Hair charms, school bags, stickers, and rhinestone phone cases. You marveled at the colorful sight of things that felt so familiar, but you weren’t sure how. You grabbed the matching rabbits and held them beside each other.

They looked… Not very sisterly. Something told you that maybe there’s a reason they looked so similar yet so different. “Are they…?” The rabbits looked more like ‘friends’ than sisters. Cater admired the pair in your hands and pointed to the pink one with a smile. “Ohh, can I have this one?” He asked and pressed his shoulder against yours. You nodded and quickly handed it over, your thumbs brushed over each other as he held the pink rabbit in his hands. Her surprised expression complimented the smirk of the more mischievous looking rabbit between your now sweating palms. “Cuuuute, wow I love their outfits so much. If we were officially co-ed, I’m asking the Headmage to make our uniforms look like these.” He chirped and held the plush toy out to you, bumping her face against the smirking characters.

As if they kissed.

Cater was scrolling through his phone again and snapped a quick picture of the stuffed animals beside each other. Most likely for a later post once the two of you left. “Ugh, I seriously can’t get over these. I guess my sisters will like the other two. I hope they don’t get mad that you and I are taking these two.” He snorted as you looked at the cat and dog laid in a basket among other duplicates. They were an odd pair. You could understand why Cater feared his older sister's frustrations. But it’s not like they knew where the characters even came from. But even though he was worried over the opinions of his siblings, he put you first. You could feel something swell in your chest, a newfound confidence to hear what Cater might say if you popped a question.

“Why did you want to match with me in the first place?” You spoke up as your heart fluttered in your chest. You refused to look at Cater as you awaited his response, you trained your eyes on the stuffed toy in his hands instead. The scenarios played through your head over what he would say as you stood together in silence. The cold jingling chain draped itself over your knuckles as you gulped. Because he wants to be more than friends? Because he wants everyone to know that you two are a pair? Because he loves you?

“Oh, because we’re friends Babes! Why else?” His response was innocent and you felt your chest start to ache. Friends? Was that really it? You forced a smile as you fiddled with the thin chain attached to the rabbit wearing a black hat. "Well, yeah we are... But-" You cut yourself off, wondering if maybe you would have interpreted his affections wrong. The air fell dead between you two. You felt a sour taste in your mouth. “Do you still want to match with me? We don’t have to if you don't want to. I mean, I just thought since we're so close you'd like to.” He sounded concerned now as you were crushing the plush character in your hands now. Her little face had become contorted from the strangulation. You didn't want Cater to worry. You looked up and nodded quickly. Blinking back tears that had welled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You refused to cry. Especially over a misinterpretation that could have been avoided. “I would love to, twin.” You smiled, trying to fight back the urge to sob. Cater seemed even more worried now as he pulled out his phone. “Can we take a picture?” He asked and inched closer, noticing other students had pooled into the small store, far away from the corner the two of you were tucked in. You nodded again, feeling foolish that you were the only person viewing his affections as more than just friendly skinship. You wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. “Here, I have an idea for a pose, hold your plush towards me.” He suggested softly, but he wasn’t smiling. His expression looked serious as you lifted your arm weekly. Your grip on the rabbit had tightened and you sniffled, fighting back any distressed sounds and Cater pulled you closer, tucking his arm around you for only a short moment. The action made your eyes widen and he leaned in to kiss the stuffed character crushed in your palm. He bumped his mouth against her smirk, while the rabbit plush he held was pressed delicately against your lips.

And there was the flash of a camera.

Your bashful and shocked expression was captured and frozen in time. Forever living in the storage space of Cater Diamond’s phone until he sent it to you.

Cater was staring down at you, leaf green eyes held a familiar softness as you felt yourself start to crumble. The tears rolled down your face, but the two of you remained still. “I’m sorry…” He apologized and pulled away from you. A curled piece of orange hair tickled the skin of your face, akin to a farewell kiss. His plush was gripped tightly in his hand as well now as he frowned, looking over the photo. Your eyes were glistening with tears, it was almost like Cater had teased you to the point of sobbing and dared to snap a picture. "Listen Babes, I think maybe we should-" You shook your head quickly and let out a sound of distress to silence him from continuing. With tears streaming down your face in furious rows you sniffled back dripping snot and pulled a smile onto your face. “It's just allergies, Twin.” You let out a weak laugh, and choked back a wail as Cater thumbed your tears away with a pout.

Twinsies is good enough.

Twinsies is close enough.

#cater diamond #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #cater twisted wonderland #cater twst #cater x reader #cater x mc #cater x yuu #cater diamond x reader #cater diamond x you

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tecceran · 1 month

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xbc3 off-seer toya sketch

ramblings under cut

!!spoiler warning for all three of the numbered xenoblade games!! mostly the first two actually. i imagine if any reads this, it will be a curious pjsk fan who doesn’t really care about xenoblade, but proceed at your own risk.

…

i have ideas for all of the pjsk characters i just don’t have the patience to draw them all out.

i wanted all the natural pairs set up by the game to be one agnian/one kevesi so they could be ouroboros. they’re also probably all off-seers or wannabe off-seers because that’s really the only music in aionios.

i’ll at least talk about vbs here.

toya is the off-seer for a kevesi colony. he has a pretty high percentage of high entia blood, so he still has pretty big headwings (compared to others in 3, not pure blood high entia) but they match his hair color. for some reason his dad feels like the type who would have been a high entia blood purist, but toya made it to aionios somehow so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

akito is agnian and would become toya’s ouroboros partner. he’s also an off-seer, but like mio he probably got drafted into the role due to his prowess when he really just wanted to be a great fighter and make it to his homecoming. he’s gormotti and has the cat ears. also face stripes. they might just be a nia thing but i think they’re fun. i imagine you don’t see his core crystal much like taion, but he could have a flesh eater’s core crystal.

if i’m remembering correctly, agnian colonies commonly have two off-seers, so an would be in the same colony as akito. i feel like she definitely has to have the fire hair like sena and brighid. like she’s already got the gradient, it’s perfect. i don’t imagine her having a peculiarly shaped core crystal, but she could have ether lines like sena as well. she probably is more naturally in tune with off-seeing than akito, but he has the edge in combat. they probably has a similar relationship to canon where they poke fun at each other and argue, but they take care of each other when things get rough.

for kohane i think she comes from a different kevesi colony than toya. her colony’s off-seer just died unexpectedly, so kohane took up the mantle as the new off-seer for the colony. maybe toya’s colony is nearby so he helped train her like crys with noah. i know there’s like a kevesi off-seer school/training program but i don’t care. kohane is just a basic homs like noah. an is her ouroboros partner, too

[edit:]

as far as combat stuff, i think kohane is an attacker, an would be an attacker, but in more of a debuff-y way, akito a dodge tank (i picture him similarly to mio), and toya could be a healer.

i think the flutes are customized to the off-seer in game? so everyone gets a custom one + a charm. toya’s charm is a wing but i might change it later. akito’s is a lightning bolt. an’s is a star. not sure about kohane yet either but maybe she’ll just have a ring similar to noah since she’s new to off-seeing.

also thinking toya maybe caught the eye of a consul while in off-seer and was taught violin. i’m not sure if off-seer flutes are made specifically somehow that allows the special motes to rise, but i say toya’s violin is customized and it can raise motes.

maybe the way toya’s dad is worked in is that he’s the consul (tho not literally toya’s bio dad then) that teaches toya violin, and then toya has a whole arc about coming to terms with the fact consuls are bad because he was close to one.

he’s temporarily at kohane’s colony teaching her when the whole ouroboros thing happens.

toya’s instrument could be worked into his blade like glimmer, but i kinda like the idea that it’s an actual instrument not made for battle in anyway. and it means he gets to stand over a battlefield and play a haunting violin melody.

#toya aoyagi #project sekai #pjsk #do i tag this as xenoblade…?#eh what the hell #xenoblade chronicles 3 #don’t look too closely at those hands i just referenced a screenshot of noah #this is just like a proof of concept idk #i barely draw anymore smh #i am however filled with Blorbo AU Thoughts #uh shit i got my own tags #tech.art #tech.speaking

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chrissturnlover · 3 months

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Will you cry (part 2)

summerize : In a school full of students, there is always some type of rivalry, but I can guarantee you that it’s never like in Boston High. In that school, people are completely divided in two. Matt and his current girlfriend reign on the crimsons side. One day, the shy girl returns from summer break, all broken out of her little shell and starts putting everyone in their place. What’ll happen when she decides to do the same thing to Matt?

warnings : cat-calling

The whole summer break was filled with you changing every little detail about yourself that you previously didn’t like. You started by buying some new glasses, some, that actually fit your face and made you look more grown up. They were round, all black, with only a detail of gold on both sides.

You’d dyed you hair, which then made your eyes pop. You got rid of every single thing that used to represent who you were. Starting with clothes, over to gestures and finally even your attitudes. Your old clothes were now all sitting in the trash.

Instead, now, you only had new clothes. Clothes that fit you like a freaking glove. They showed off your body perfectly, hugging your body in every right place. They made your waist look thinner and made every part you wanted to be bigger, bigger. You had only bought clothes of colors that you had recently found out looked good on you because they matched your skin tone.

You had made a promise to yourself. You had promised that you’d leave the old you behind, because you were ready to start your freshman year as the new you. You’d go as far as to say that you evrn wanted to start a completely new life, glad that you didn’t recognize yourself anymore.

Luckily, it wasn’t a bad thing at all. You had wished and hoped for change for a very long time. You always hated the way you looked. The things others said to you didn’t really help. You didn’t like your personality. The you that let everyone push you around. But now? your confidence was growing more with each day, surpassing any level of self esteem you ever thought to be capable of.

Your phone had been ringing for the past ten minutes, you hand already having clicked snooze on two of the alarms you had set on your phone for today. You lazily threw the cover off of your body, and got up slowly from the bed.

You groaned as you held your head, rubbing your forehead, feeling the small scar again. Today was the first day back at school, so yesterday you hadn’t gotten any sleep because as usual, you were overthinking. You were laying awake looking at you ceiling, thinking and wondering about the changes you’d made on yourself. They kept nagging at you, would they would even help with people in your school noticing you?

Rest assured, deep down you knew that you did these changes more to yourself than anyone else. You needed it and once it happened, you felt like it was a breath of fresh air and that you could finally start the life you’ve dreamed of for so long.

You walked to the mirror, looking at your image. You walked closer, seeing the bags under your eyes. You ran a finger along them slowly, your lips stretching out in a heartfelt smile, because you noticed that they’d disappeared a little since before the break.

You then started running your hands along your body, feeling them touch you in every spot. Once you ran them over your hips, you could feel that your waist had shrunk a lot. Your hands continued their way around, trailing over your back and down your butt.

Curious, you turned to the side, running a hand over your flat tummy, a proud hum sound leaving your lips. The smile was ever lasting ad you ran a hand through your soft hair again, this time throwing it all over one shoulder.

You walked back to your closet, grabbing the outfit you had picked out for school the day before. You started putting your clothes on, almost tumbling over when you tried to put your second leg into your beige plaid skirt.

You turned to your bed and grabbed the top that was laying at the bottom, almost completely covered by your bed coves. You put your head through it, letting out a huff, that blew your hair way from your face a little, before you felt it tingle your nose again. You readjusted your hair, taking it all out from inside the top, and letting it fall on you back.

You were now wearing a all white crewneck, that was a little longer than usual, because it was only letting the very bottom part of the skirt to be shown. It gave you a classy look and you loved it.

To match, you climbed into your pair of white high heel boots. They went up you to your knees, and since the heel wasn’t tall at all, it permitted you to walk perfectly all day without your feet hurting or without a chance of you falling on your face.

Even if summer break had ended, it still wasn’t all too cold, so you decided to leave your jacket at home for today. You put all the stuff that you’d need for the day in your matching birdinbag.

You walked back to the mirror and smiled at yourself. Seeing yourself, and what you looked like now, so different. It made you realize that this was who you were meant to be. It always has been.

You put your pink headband back in you hair. This being the only thing you couldn’t let go of.

You threw your bag over your shoulder and walked down the stairs, your loud heels clacking their way after you. You held onto the railing as you looked down at the stairs under your shoes. They were all white marmor. You remember the memory of your parents chosing these like it was yesterday. You remember the tantrum they threw because they couldn’t even imagine having their stairs of anything else, that wasn’t most expensive type of marmor.

You got to your kitchen, already looking for the note you were sure your parents had left for you. You clenched your fists tighter when you saw it there in all its glory, laying on top of the table. On the same spot it always was.

The old you would’ve forgiven them. She would’ve read the note and sent them a message telling them that she loved them and that she couldn’t wait for them to be home again. But not the new you.

The new you walked right by it not even sparing it a glance. You left the house without looking back. You stepped outside, slamming the door right behind you. You gripped the strap of your bag a little tighter, gulping hard at the thought of going to school.

You kept repeating motivational phrases to yourself. You can do this. You’re different now. You’re not weak anymore. You said, and with every step you took, your hips sawyed.

You walked down the lonely road, as you approached the bus stop. The sky was still a little dark. The days were still short. You crossed your arms as you kept walking back and forth kicking some pebbles that found themselves right in front of your boots.

After some minutes the bus finally came, and as it opened the doors for you, you walked inside. You passed the bus driver and said hi, before you heard him whisper something you wish you hadn’t heard. “God, she’s got a fat ass, I’d like to hit that someday” he said, as he rubbed his hands together and looked at you, almost falling our of his seat.

You stopped in your tracks, and looked through the whole bus. It was completely full and everyone was staring at you with their eyes wide, probably wondering what you were going to say to his cat-call. You closed your eyes to avoid the attention and gulbed hard. Every sense inside your body told you to ignore him. But you couldn’t.

You opened your eyes again, putting a very fake smile on your face and then turned to the bus driver. You tilted your head a little to challenge him. You walked up to his little spot and crossed your arms. “Hey, you” You let out a fake laugh. He gave you a smile as you batted your eyelashes at him.

Everyone in the bus was watching your every move. Even someone you wish wasn’t. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help but overhear what you said.” You laughed, pointing at your ear. “And let me tell you, grandpa” You provoked him more. “You couldn’t hit this even if your wife left you” You pointed at yourself, starting to walk away. But you turned around a last time. “Oh wait. Didn’t she already? I just wonder why?” You whispered the last part, shaking your head and tapping your chin. “I’m such a dumbass” You said shrugging your shoulders. “But if I hear something like that come out of your filthy throat ever again. I will file a police report.” You said pointing at him sharply, before finally walking away.

You looked around again for an empty spot, and there was only one left. And when you saw who it was next to, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You looked around again, for any other possibility, but then it hit you. there were none. So, you did something you promised never to do again. You let your head hang low, embarrassed as you walked an sat down next to Matt.

You didn’t dare look at him. Instead for half of the way to your school, your head was always turned to the other side. Your eyes trailed the trees, the houses, the clouds, anything that would keep your gaze off of the guy sitting next to you. And your plan was working really well until you heard him whisper something in your ear.

“That was pretty brave.” was all he said, but it was enough to make your head snap into his direction. When your head turned, he was so close to you, that you found yourself leaning back a little. You couldn’t believe this. You couldn’t believe that he was actually talking that you. But of course he was only talking to you now. Now that you looked good. You scoffed. “Jerk” you whispered back at him, not daring to look away. His gaze keeping you in a trance

You could feel his eyes on you. You could see him analyse every inch of your face as if to see where he knew you from. His eyes jumped all over the place and you knew that he could see desperation all over your face. And finally like you had expected, hurt pressed through your ribs into your heart when you heard him ask you. “Are you new?” He said.

You shook your head before turning back around, not daring to engage in any type of conversation with this guy again. Your head was a mess. You kept thinking about what’d just happened. He really didn’t know you existed. Even if you were expecting something like that from a guy like Matt. Deep down? You’ve always had hope that he’d notice you in Science or History class. That he’d notice you in the bus. That he’d notice you walking past him almost everyday.

But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

Even if you didn’t like to admit it, you felt your heart fall at this conclusion. You sighed and leaned your head back on the rest of your seat. You closed your eyes and squeezed them, yet you could feel that his eyes were still on you.

You opened your eyes slightly. Your intuition was correct because he was still looking at you. He was looking so deep into your eyes, that you swallowed dry. Was this what it felt like being looked at by people? Or was it just Matt?

You two held eye contact until you heard the bus stop, this snapping you out of whatever trance he’d put you in. You quickly grabbed your bag and got up from your seat. As you were walking out of the bus you couldn’t help but look back at him. And god damn, because his eyes didn’t leave you until you turned around the corner.

You leaned against the brick wall, breathing heavy. You clearly weren’t used to this. You looked up at the sky almost getting lost in it, until you heard a voice snap you out. It was a girl. She looked to be around your age and was about the same height as you were. She had long blond hair and her eyes were green and it reminded you of the forest.

You looked down at where she’d already extended her hand out, clearly only waiting for you to put yours in hers. She smiled up at you and on her face there was not an ounce of embarrassment or shyness. Nor was anything on her posture indicating that she was going to back down any time soon. “I’m Rowan” she spoke enthusiasticaly.

The frown on you face stayed put as you furrowed your eyebrows. Why was she talking to you?. The only reasonable logic behind it seemed to be…“Are you new?” you ask her in a whisper after some seconds of silence. You looked around to see if anyone had spotted her with you yet. You did not want to be the reason her reputation got ruined so early on. “Embarrassed to be seen with the new girl?” she said, her smile and hand not faltering a single bit. You loved her confidence.

Quickly, you grabbed her hand and took her to an empty corner, where no one you knew had access to. “Hey, I’m sorry for being weird, it’s just that I’m not used to being talked to at this school” You said pointing around, trying to say these words in the less pick me way possible.

She raised her eyebrows. “Am I supposed to believe that?” She said laughing at you. Your eyes widened as you nodded slowly, clearly, in confusion. “Yes?” You asked uncertainly.

She pointed at your body. “You’re trying to tell me, that the hottest girl in this whole school, doesn’t get any attention?” She laughed again. “There’s no way” Rowan shook her head at you.

You started fidgeting with your fingers. “It’s true. I didn’t look like this before. This is the new me. The old me though? was basically the leader of the losers, so if I was you, I wouldn’t want to be seen with me or I can guarantee you that you’ll get absolutely dragged through the mud for it girl” You tried to warn Rowan, already starting to walk away from her. But Rowan wasn’t one to let down easily. She grabbed your wrist. “I don’t really care. You seem nice and you were actually the first person that talked to me, so I’d actually love to be your first friend.” She said, leaving you speechless. This had never happened before.

You thought about it for a little, but now it was your turn to extend your hand. She took it gracefully, shaking it enthusiastically. She asked about your name and so you told her your name. She repeated it, making you nod along. “I love that name” She said. “I love yours aswell” You told her.

You took all the courage you could find in yourself to say these next words. “Would you like me to show you around Ro?” You asked her. She grinned up at you, proudly. “Already on nickname basis? I love it” She said as she hooked her arm with yours, letting you take her to the entrance.

For the next half hour, you showed her around the school, talking and giving a little backstory on the teachers, while also giving her your opinion on them. You showed her to all the classrooms, and to the cafeteria.

You had the time of your life with Rowan. She was nice and so much fun to be around of and as a plus she didn’t seem to mind your status nor all the looks she was getting because of being seen walking with you.

Concerning the looks, you were sure that it was because of your loser status, but when she hushed you and told you that every boy was practically fawning and drooling over you, you found yourself blushing.

But when you looked back at the boys they looked away, trying to act as if they hadn’t just been staring at your ass as you walked by. You wondered why they looked away, until you remembered the saying of your school. “In the halls, Crimsons strut with pride, while the losers, unnoticed, in shadows bide.” You whispered to yourself tapping yourself on the forehead. How could you forget when you were always reminded of it?

The bell finally rung, indicating the start of class. “I have to go now Ro, but here’s my number.” You extended your hand and she gave you her phone. You typed in your number, while you continued talking. “We can meet up to eat together at lunch time again, if you want to?.” You told her with a smile. Your confidence had come back after the first five minutes of getting to know Rowan better. She really made you come out of your shell.

She nodded. “I’d love to! I’ll call you then” She said as she looked at the clock. “Okay! I’ll see you later” She said turning around and starting to walk down the hall, leaving you to go to your next class alone.

You groaned when you looked at your schedule.

History.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo reader

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awkwardgtace · 10 months

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StarGazing

hey day 4 legggooooo

Meg has always loved watching the stars, Streya has definitely added to that.

StarGazing

Meg had always loved studying the stars. Looking at everything she may never reach. Now she could reach it all, Streya would happily take her to visit anything she dreamt of. She's even seen Pluto.

None of that matched up to the nights she still spent alone staring at the stars. She was curious how Streya's presence changed things. All night she hadn't seen the cosmic woman or the constellations she'd watched for most of her life. Every single one she looked for was gone. She scribbled note after note about the changes.

If Streya knew she'd probably worry. Consider the changes something bad she was doing and try to fix it. The idea of the massive woman panicking and poking at the pinprick size stars made Meg laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" Streya's voice made her jump. Meg searched for the eye colored like the planet, but couldn't find her. It was easy to think she imagined Streya was nearby.

She tried to go back to the stars, but this time they were moving. Moving too much to be a simple trick. She paled only to immediately blush when it dawned on her. The entire time she'd been staring at Streya.

The image in front of her changed until the cosmic woman was visible, or at least enough Meg could make out that she was there. Her cheeks grew warmer when she realized she'd been staring at Streya's chest. The stars that made up the flowing gown that covered the giantess disappeared. The eye Meg had searched for finally appeared.

"You're changing colors again, you promise that's not bad? I met other little beings that only change when they get hurt," Streya said. It was odd to consider someone so big was so easy to hear. Her voice should be painful, or more likely inaudible. Yet each time was calm and soft, almost a whisper.

"I'm fine, really," Meg whispered. She often fell into a whisper in response. Streya had no idea that happened. "If you want to talk we should probably head away from the planet."

That's the closest Meg ever came to asking Streya to take her out into space. Suggesting they move away, where things were just the two of them. Where no one who was afraid of the kind being who admired humanity even with the trouble it causes. The eye she could see started to sparkle, just like the stars she loved.

"I learned I could make it so just you hear me!" Streya's excitement didn't reach Meg. She didn't have an excuse to be taken off earth anymore. Streya would humor her, but for how long? She'd accept it at least. Streya herself was a marvel. One greater than the stars.

"That's amazing," Meg said. She should be happy Streya was learning more about herself. There were thousands of things the woman never thought of and now she could test them out. Meg offered her a smile, shocked to see a strand of hair hovering near her.

"Will… will you still come with me? I like when I can hold you."

Meg checked her pockets for her mini telescope then walked forward. "Of course."

The strand of hair offered a soft glow that reminded her of the oceans. That always seemed weird, the hair itself was a shade of purple. Her body started to hover as Streya changed to pull her free from her planet. The science behind the changes that took place to do this seemed impossible. Considering Streya existed there might not be any.

Meg was pulled up, the world flashing by. It was a bit surprising this never made her sick. In seconds she was away from earth, floating in space. The brief glimpses she got before Streya encompassed her vision were always amazing. Then she was set on a finger, the smooth skin still keeping her from seeing much other than the cosmic woman.

"I learned something else too," Streya said. The whisper part of her voice disappeared out in space. Meg assumed she just didn't whisper when they weren't near the planet, but she had no way to tell. "I tested it on little things from other planets. Can I try it?"

"Sure," Meg yelled. Out here it felt like she had to yell. How else would she be heard across the void of space?

Streya's finger moved and Meg with it. She got glimpses of space as she was left to the will of something impossible to comprehend. She was pressed to the forehead of the impossible woman. Her body started to heat up. The warmth was kind and welcoming. It was easy to wish it would never leave.

All too soon the warmth was gone. Meg blinked, expecting Streya's spacelike skin. Instead she met the most beautiful stars she'd ever seen. They were so small. Instinctively she reached out to one, desperate to know more, but she paused.

The arm she extended wasn't her own. It wasn’t Streya’s either. Something else that let her be in control. Looking around she found her planet, her home, small next to her. Smaller than her fingers. Whatever was done left her smaller than Streya by a large margin still. Another look around and this time she could see how the gown of stars stood out. They weren’t quite the same as the other brilliant lights.

Slowly looking up she found Streya, holding her hands together. Meg wasn’t even sure she could speak like this, but it was beautiful. Streya moved closer to her, with a massive smile. Seeing her, seeing more of her than just part of an eye, was breathtaking.

“You like all the lights right? You call them stars I think,” she asked. Her voice sounded different. More like talking to another human. The tone was light and airy, filled with kindness. As though malice could never exist in the speaker’s mind. “You can see them a lot better like this. I can’t do this for very long, but now you don’t have to be scared if you get close to the big one, what do you call it again?”

“The sun?” Meg asked. Her voice sounded like an echo. Far away, not coming from her. Streya looked at her hands again. The woman’s soft smile was one that would normally send Meg’s heart racing, but… her heart wasn’t beating at all. She wanted to ask, to know so much more.

“Yes that thing. I’ll keep you safe, look around. See what I see! Look at the little thing you live on, isn’t it beautiful?”

Meg looked at the Earth, then to all the stars around her. Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe things right now. Then she looked at Streya. The cosmic being was still massive, nearly impossible to fathom, but she stood out. Out of everything Meg could see there was nothing more beautiful floating in this void of space.

“Truly beautiful,” she whispered.

Streya grabbed the arm that Meg’s mind was tied to. She could barely see the speck the real her made up on the woman’s other hand. The impossible fingers closing over her tiny body. Someone so impossible saw her and remembered how she liked the stars. Streya was bringing her all over the solar system, a smile glowing brighter than the sun the whole time.

Meg had spent an entire life stargazing. She thought she’d dream of going up there, studying them. That she would never fully understand things, but leave something for others like her. In every dream and fantasy she never once imagined the stars would gaze back. She never wanted that gaze to turn away.

#gt #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t #g/t writing #gt writing #gianttiny #gt community #g/t community #oc: streya #collaboc:meg #gt july 2023 #gt july #gt july stargazing

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bbygirl-aemond · 1 year

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I’m really curious where you come up with prophecies and Valyrian lore from? It’s canonically different as Vermithor and Vhagar aren’t siblings. Nor are there any confirmed prophecies about Aemond. There are no multiple dragon riders, even Danaeyrs only rode Drogon. Is the lore canon divergence, or your interpretation of what cannon could be?

Yeah sure I'm happy to compile all of my reasoning for the different magical decisions! I've grounded all of these decisions in different parts of canon, and took a ton of care to make sure I never once explicitly contradicted canon laws surrounding things like magic and dragon heritage. So even if you disagree about the source material I've based these decisions off of, you at least have to acknowledge I haven't violated anything by introducing this lore. I'll mention my sources more explicitly below, but I've drawn from A Song of Ice and Fire, House of the Dragon, Fire and Blood, The World of Ice and Fire, and remarks made by House of the Dragon's showrunners and actors. So let's go through it (for other Stormbreak readers, there might be some interesting hints in here...):

Vhagar and Vermithor

First, a tiny correction: Vhagar and Vermithor aren't siblings in Stormbreak. They're parent and child. This isn't confirmed in canon, but there's a ton of evidence to suggest it, drawing from Fire and Blood and House of the Dragon. According to canon, Vhagar and Vermithor are the only two dragons alive during the Dance with multiple, highly-specific features: Their size, their coloring, and even their bone structure. I've written about this biology aspect in more detail here and here.

It also fits very well into GRRM's narrative arc for Vermithor to have hatched from either Vhagar or Balerion's egg. Jaehaerys with Vermithor is set up as a direct parallel to Aegon on Quicksilver. Aegon dies fighting Maegor, who's riding Balerion, specifically because his dragon is too young and small. Vhagar was still bonded to Visenya at the time, so the next best option for a thematic match to Balerion would be either Vhagar or Balerion's offspring.

Additionally, it's significant that Rhaena, who's coded as a potential dragon dreamer, is the one who puts this egg in Jaehaerys's cradle. Perhaps she foresaw some part of the conflict that would happen, and knew Jaehaerys would need a formidable dragon that would allow him to go up against Balerion and Maegor. I've written about this in more detail here.

Even if you don't believe Rhaena's a dreamer, it's canon that the tension between Maegor and Aenys existed long before Aegon or Aenys ever died and Rhaena would have known her family's political position was very precarious. In this case, it makes even more sense for Rhaena to use Vhagar's egg specifically; at the time Jaehaerys was born, the only dragon on Maegor's side was Vhagar. It would make sense for Rhaena to want to arm her family against the dragon she knew would fight for Maegor's claim and would be trying to counter Vhagar in particular with her choice of egg. And what better counter to a gargantuan dragon than its own child, guaranteed to also be huge?

Aemond as a dragon dreamer

There are a few different parts to why I felt Aemond could have a connection to the future. My sources for this are the HotD showrunners, Aemond's actor, and the ASoIaF series.

I drew inspiration from the writers of House of the Dragon, who talked with Aemond's actor at length about intentionally basing his character off of the myth of the cyclops from Greek and Roman mythology. The cyclops has only one eye because he traded the other for knowledge of his future death. This idea of trading an eye for foresight is pretty common throughout mythology; another example is the god Odin from Norse mythology. From the interview, it's clear that Aemond has some knowledge of the future, because the actor was specifically asked to consider how that knowledge would impact Aemond's personality when deciding how to portray him. I've talked more about this here if you're curious!

The interview then made me wonder whether there might be reasons for two of Alicent's children having explicitly confirmed abilities to see the future (though to varying degrees). So in Stormbreak, the dreaming abilities of Aemond, Helaena, Jaehaera, and the fourth mystery dreamer are all related to their Hightower heritage. I've based this on canonical theories by the Maesters as to how House Hightower originated, plus canonical details about the structure/foundation of the Hightower itself.

As a hint: According to The World of Ice and Fire, the Hightower is built upon a second, much older fortress of unspecified origin. It's made of fused black stone and contains "gloomy halls, vaults, and chambers," so it's a veritable castle/fortress in and of itself. I wonder where else we might find fused black stone in the ASoIaF universe...?

Multiple dragon bonds

This is going to be the shortest part of this ask, because I've already explained everything in a separate post here, but maybe you had some trouble navigating my blog and couldn't find it. For your future reference, I have a document here with a directory of every post I've ever made. If you navigate using the outline on the left-hand side, you'll be able to get pretty easily to the portion that deals with my posts related to Stormbreak.

TLDR: The multiple dragon thing isn't an Aemond-specific ability. None of these things are. And if some of y'all would wait until the fic is finished to come after me for unfairly favoring him, you'd understand that! I mean, I have 2+ members of Team Black planned to end up with two dragons. It's a Targaryen thing, and they're all Targaryens, so statistically it's going to happen.

Part of reading a WIP is that you need to have faith in the author; if anyone struggles with that, they should stay away from WIPs in general, including this one. Remember, that's the joy of fandom- you get to choose to engage with the content that best fits your preferences!

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darkhymns-fic · 8 months

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Being an angel is pretty inconvenient, huh? (Ch. 7)

Several years later, Colette reflects on what's changed and what hasn't - for Lloyd and for herself. [A Lloyd wingfic]

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Frank Brunel Rating: T Word Count: 6493 Mirror: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week 2023, Day 7: Free Day! This fic is now complete! There are more notes over on AO3. Otherwise, thanks for reading along!

On Colette’s twentieth birthday, she went to visit her father.

Frank was busy in the garden that was facing the back of the house, pulling out the weeds and setting them aside on a cleared patch of green. Colette had been quiet when she arrived, hovering down to the ground with her wings, barely moving them. The sun was bright, overpowering any of her light. She was fine with this, curious to see how her father worked on his garden. He had always been a gentle man, holding onto the weeds with care, apologetic in his every gesture.

Her grandmother had always said she took after her father the most.

But even as silent as she could be, Frank still turned around, his faint blue eyes alight when he spotted her. He placed the weeds on the ground, wiping dirt onto his pants. “Colette! You made it.”

"Of course!" Looped around her right arm was the handle of a wicker basket. On the back porch, the outdoor table had been recently cleaned of any fallen leaves and petals. She spotted the teapot that was already set, along with the porcelain cups. "I brought a few sandwiches for us."

Frank took a moment to get to his feet, but even in his clear exhaustion, he was smiling wide as he pulled up a chair across from her. "Let me guess… is it your famous caramel apple sandwiches?"

"Oh, I made you a ham and cheese one, but I got some extra apple sandwiches if you'd like!"

And her father was kind, as he always was, gratefully accepting the food, as he would do when she was little and just learning how she could stuff her favorite fruits into sandwiches. It was at least more to it than just plain apple slices between two pieces of bread this time. After some lessons with Genis, her once plain apple sandwiches were now served with caramel sauce and creamy cheese.

Colette only remembered when she sat down to finally put her wings away, the action sending motes of lights drifting in the breeze, fixing up her dress that now stretched past her knees. She watched it mingle with the rays of the sun before dissipating. Once, her father would have long stared at her wings in silence, his lips never quite lifting into a smile. But now, he barely glanced at it, or even commented on it at all.

The ginger tea was warm, her father always brewing it just right. As they drank and ate, she also decided to count the rows of flowers that had just started to bloom. The brightness of the marigolds gave her once plain backyard a sunny feeling, but it was the tulips that took over, their colors more varied, from bright red to a deep purple that matched her wings. Still, never had she imagined her father to suddenly develop a green thumb.

“Did you not want something bigger for your birthday?” Frank asked, leaning back in his chair. He had finished her apple sandwich first before taking the other in his hands. “This seems so small.”

Colette smiled. It truly was small, compared to her earlier birthdays—of the whole village gathered in the plaza, to wish the Chosen another year closer to salvation. She sipped the tea, enjoying, savoring that warmth. “But I’m happy with this. And I get to see your garden this way!”

Frank chuckled. Hours in the sun had bleached his already light-blonde hair, but the laugh lines around his mouth had also deepened. She remembered his smiles more in these recent years than when she was a child. “Dirk has been giving me a lot of advice on fixing up the flower bed. I might even start growing some vegetables later. Without needing to attend the Church as often as before, I find myself with a lot more time on my hands.”

That reminded her then. “I also just visited Grandmother in the temple, along with the other children.” She cradled the teacup in her hands, the mixture having long cooled. “They had just gotten back from a trip to the beach. They all seem to be doing well! And Jonah and his little sister recently got adopted.”

Frank nodded at the news, chuckling softly. “She has been very busy lately. But I think your grandmother always liked being occupied as much as she can.”

Even when the priests eventually left the Iselia temple, with the importance of the Chosen starting to wane with each passing year, it hadn't stopped Phaidra from visiting it, climbing those steps every morning. It also hadn't stopped her from deciding that the great atrium, now free of monsters as well as those of the cloth, could still be useful. Orphaned children from the Palmacosta tragedy, or rescued from the once common ranches, needed a safe place to stay.

Also, Colette figured that Verius, who had taken the temple for their home, liked the company. After all, it didn’t hurt for the children to have an additional guardian, and the Summon Spirit didn’t seem to mind its new role at all.

“And Lloyd?” Frank poured her another cup of tea, his hands steady as he did so. “I’m surprised he’s not with you.”

“Martel called him,” she answered, blowing on the hot tea. “He has to honor his pact with her, since he hasn’t gone to see the tree in a while.”

“Well, I hope you can spend this day with him at least a little. Or…did he forget again?”

Colette couldn’t help but laugh at the suggestion. “I should ask him that! But he’s been getting better about the dates.”

“And… is he getting better overall?” Frank asked. Both he and Phaidra had been one of the last to finally know about Lloyd’s wings—although Colette had always wondered if he had seen them both that day when she and Lloyd flew to the temple. Her father had never pushed to know, had always been patient to a fault.

“He is,” and though her voice was soft, the smile came to her naturally. She recalled the softness of feathers against her palm, the sensation making her chest warm. “We have so many wonderful friends that helped him.”

Still, there was a greedy part of herself she couldn’t ignore. Once they were on their journey again, they would only have each other, and the promise of it made her eager for the days to pass—even for her birthday to pass.

“Well, please tell Lloyd he is always welcome to come visit us anytime. I’m sure by then, I’ll have my vegetable garden set up! He can have the first bite of it.” Frank tapped his chin, thinking over his possible plantings. “Grape tomatoes are supposed to grow well this season. I’ll make sure they’re juicy once he comes around.”

Colette nearly spat out her tea as a giggle bubbled from her throat. Tomatoes! she thought, already imagining the look on Lloyd’s face if she brought him around. “Y-yeah! I’ll tell him!” And it wasn’t like she had to tell Lloyd just what type of vegetables her father was growing anyway.

She chatted with Frank until the sun made its descent through the sky, its light filtering through the trees that surrounded the backyard. The summer beetles hovered around the branches, and the breeze lifted her hair. She wanted even more of the tea, which brought back memories of holding the same cup when she was little, watching as her father dipped a spoonful of honey into the mixture.

She was so distracted by it that she didn’t at first hear the footsteps from behind her. They were quiet and padding, barely making the wood creak as they walked along the porch.

But it was the mewing sound that caught her full attention.

A white, furry shape jumped onto the table, knocking aside one of the teacups that Colette attempted to rescue. It hadn’t broken, which was the important thing. Still, she barely gave it a second thought, grinning at the sight of the cat; his meowing still as high-pitched as it was when he was first found.

“Blippy!”

“Still a little rascal,” Frank commented, but didn’t mind any of the spilled tea that was running across the table, merely mopping it up with a cloth napkin he had. “He always gets more energetic whenever you visit.”

Colette hardly needed to reach out before Blippy pressed his head into her palms. His purrs rumbled through her skin, the softness of his fur as familiar as the feathers from this morning. “I hope he’s been good,” she said.

Frank’s smile was a peaceful one. “Always. Your grandmother can’t get enough of him.”

The grown cat, so content with her petting, was a far cry from the small kitten she had once carried around in a basket. Once, he had been such a tiny thing, sometimes shaking as if it still remembered the river it had nearly drowned in. But then it would also reach out towards Lloyd’s wings to paw at like they were toys, to rub his nose at her fingers, fascinated by everything all around. It had been like that when they traveled to Mizuho, to Ozette, to the World Tree, and to so much else.

But the journey wasn’t just about sightseeing or visiting friends. Gathering the Exspheres still meant weeks out on the road and in the open, and fighting with those who refused to relinquish what they had. She knew they had to get Blippy into a proper home.

“Then why not with your dad’s?” Lloyd had suggested then, the idea coming to him so quickly that even Colette had been surprised. “I always thought your house could have used a pet.”

Maybe Lloyd knew it would make it easier for her, to leave Blippy with her family, to reassure them when she would need to be gone once again from their lives. She could tell how often his fur was brushed, how well-fed he was, and how the collar around his neck sparkled with the tag that was attached to it. His tail swished across the table happily, with his paws kneading one of the cloth napkins.

“Lloyd needs to visit you too,” she whispered, her fingers threading through the fur on Blippy’s neck. “I know he’s been missing you.”

It had also been months since Colette had truly pet a cute animal! There were no longer as many stray dogs that hung around towns or fishing ports, and while it made her happy that most of those doggies now had a stable home, she had missed giving them both pets and names, to shower them with as much love as she could before she had to be on her way. So she got her fill with Blippy, repeating his name and patting down the fur.

But then, she heard a small ringing sound from beneath her hand…

“Ah, Colette!” Frank stretched out his hand, plucking something tiny from the inside of her teacup. It glittered within his palm, the smooth metal capturing the light of the sun. “You dropped your…”

Her eyes caught the shimmer of the intricately cut topaz, and the familiar engraving on the metal. “Oh! Oh no, I almost lost it again…” She quickly accepted the item, affixing it back to her finger. “Thank you. I think I had it on the wrong finger today.” That was why it felt oddly bigger than usual…

Frank sighed but was smiling all the same. “Lucky I caught it now and not in my garden patch like last time. I nearly buried it with the tulip seeds.”

Colette’s flush rose to her cheeks, laughing as she touched the metal band. “Lloyd said he would just make me another if I did lose it, but I hope it doesn’t come to that… Ah, speaking of Lloyd…!” Her heart fluttered, seeing just how far the sun had traveled across the sky.

“Forgot you already have to meet up with him?” Frank answered for her so easily, already getting up from his chair.

“Yes! I’m sorry, I was really enjoying our lunch and then Blippy showed up…” At the mention of the cat, she had to give her friend a few more pets, a few more scritches beneath his ears. It took the prompting her wings appearing to finally stop, despite getting fur everywhere on her dress.

Another chorus of meowing, and Blippy was reaching up to paw at a bright wingtip. She giggled when she felt his soft paws make contact. “Aw, I don’t think you’ll like playing with mine as much as Lloyd’s,” she said.

Frank moved to pet Blippy, giving Colette a moment to escape. “Go on. It’ll be the end of your birthday before you know it.”

In his voice, she heard a soft plea. He would have wanted her to stay, as he had wanted her to numerous times. Saved from her fate as a Chosen, yet even so, he had to keep seeing his daughter off to an unknown.

But the worry lines in his forehead were not as deep, and she saw him visibly relax as he ran his hand across Blippy’s fur. The loneliness was not as all-engulfing as it had once been.

Colette rushed over to give Frank a great hug, her wings fluttering to keep her afloat. She felt his arms squeeze her back. “I’ll see you again soon.”

He hugged her tightly. He used to hold her with hesitance, as if doing it too much was not correct for the man who was only supposed to watch over until she must save the world. But she felt his love in his embrace, his fear now gone.

“Happy birthday, Colette.”

And when she flew off, she couldn’t help but turn back. She watched Blippy jump into Frank’s arms, as if knowing he still needed a shape to hold.

Lloyd really did always have the best ideas.

On the day that Lloyd’s wings had changed, Colette felt that she had failed him then. It was how the shape of his wings imprinted themselves into her mind like nothing else, how his stuttering gasp of fear had clutched at her ribs, how he fell limp to the ground once the back of his jacket was ripped open.

The kitten in his hands had been shaking, and she had to coax the little thing to go to her. He had held it out to her, in a last desperate attempt. The blood drenched the ground like it was rain, but Colette could not split herself in two to help both at once. She wrapped the kitten in a towel, patted it dry, and kept it safe within the shade of the tree. It had curled up, already fast asleep. And then, she finally rushed over to Lloyd’s side.

When Colette touched his wings, it was sticky with blood. The feathers were sporadic, the bones jutting out at sharp angles. She looked at his back, and it was a ruined mess, his skin so torn. Still, her hands reached out to him, even as Lloyd shook, even when she heard him cry out in pain.

Colette was not a healer. Even with all her angelic artes, she didn’t know a sufficient healing spell. Professor Sage should have come with him instead, she thought, while reaching for their packs for any of their first aid equipment. Or Zelos. Or Sheena. They would have known what to do. They would have had the experience of healing Lloyd in some way.

She remembered how much she was shaking herself as she tried to make use of the bandages. But no, she needed to remove his jacket first. Except his jacket was destroyed with bits of it stuck to his wings, and with the blood everywhere, it was hard to tell which was clothing and which were his feathers, steeped in a gory mess.

It made her so afraid. To think being an angel could still keep causing so much suffering.

“Gh!”

Lloyd gave a sharp gasp of pain that pierced her chest. His wings were too big. They bent at odd angles, were crooked, and still so fresh with agony.

She at first just tried to hold his hand. His Exsphere felt so warm, and only when she looked down did she see it shine. Was it hurting Lloyd? Was it helping him? Still, she held on tight.

Colette had hesitated, and that was a moment she wished she could have redone.

“Lloyd…” she called out softly, but still he was shaking. His other hand clutched at the ground, and his eyes were shut. His wings moved, and somehow, in that moment, they seemed a bit less intimidating.

Colette finally embraced him, carefully, as the blood stained her dress so deeply, feeling sticky against her skin.

She was clumsy with the bandages, and she was slow when she tried to clean up his wings then. Her fingers made contact with them once again, worried that every motion from her was hurting him.

How broken he looked then, barely able to stay awake. Still, she felt him lean against her, clinging back to her hand. His shaking lessened, even if only by a little.

Colette only realized her wings were still out as she continued to bandage him, the light falling over the ground and his feathers.

“I love you so much and this is all I can do.” She bit her lip, her vision blurry with tears, but kept him in her arms. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t expect a response, not until she heard him stir, mumbling something.

“Ah, Lloyd?” Trying to hold him gently, she avoided touching his wings, in case it really did hurt him. “Careful…”

“M’fine.” The words slurred out of his throat, and still she tried to keep him elevated. There were brief bouts of pain that made him shake, apologies once again spilling from her. But when he turned to stare at her, the light of her wings illuminating his face, he looked questioning.

She wondered if he had heard what she said earlier.

Colette had never before told Lloyd that she loved him. Not out loud, at least. It was tempting to say it again—but what right did she have when he was this weak?

“The kitten…” he whispered. “Is it…”

There was both relief and disappointment in her chest, a feeling she felt all too accustomed to, for so much else.

When she pointed to the sleeping kitten, all curled up and safe, she saw Lloyd smile. It looked almost euphoric; from the pain or from relief? But he quickly fell asleep again, still holding onto her hand. His wings lowered slightly, and through some of the blood, she saw their color was white.

Colette tried to set up a spot for Lloyd to rest, angling his body so that his wings wouldn’t be cramped. Her dress was still stained, and after she finally was able to change into a new set, she sat beside Lloyd, noting that most of his wounds seemed to have healed.

She did love Lloyd, but this time, the words stayed locked inside her throat. All she could give him was the touch of her hand, his fingers clinging to her again. I can’t push that on him now, she thought, even as part of her wished she could, somehow. The closest she had ever hinted at it was a kiss on the cheek every now and then, which Lloyd always accepted with a flush and a wide smile. Maybe I can just do that later…

It wasn’t long though before the kitten came to waddle up to her.

“You should be resting too!” she said. “Or are you awake because you’re hungry?”

In answer, the little animal pressed against her arm, meowing constantly that she couldn’t help but give it a few pets. “Hehe, you’ll wake Lloyd up,” she said, but didn’t stop from giving it a few scratches, entranced by its golden eyes.

At the petting, the kitten stuck out its tongue at her, making such a face that Colette couldn’t help but laugh at it—quietly. She really needed to let Lloyd rest for as long as he could.

With a small gesture, she coaxed the kitten to come closer. Its fur was no longer matted or dirty by the river. It even seemed to already forget the whole ordeal altogether.

“You need a name, don’t you?” She let it cuddle into her lap, all while she kept holding fast to Lloyd’s hands, hearing him breathe deeply as he slept. “Hm, you feel like a Blippy to me…”

“Heeeey, Coleeeette!”

Even if Lloyd hadn’t called out to her, it would be hard to really miss him at all.

The Great Tree had finally started to grow over the last few years, less of a sapling and more like a young oak tree whose roots had finally settled deep into the soil. It now reached past her height, inviting one to look above and try to see the very top. Birds flitted among the branches, rustling up the leaves that sounded hushed in the glade. If it weren’t for the mana that she could feel through the air currents surrounding it, the tree would have looked like any other in a forest.

As she flew towards it, she already caught sight of Lloyd, and the great wings that were outstretched as he flew over the top of the tree. The setting sun painted his feathers in watercolors of orange and violet.

He was waving at her with both arms. His wings flapped behind him excitedly. “Hey!!”

“I see you, Lloyd!” Colette waved back, her wings taking her further up into the sky. The leaves turned brighter from the light of her passing, and even the air around her seemed quieter too. She wondered if Martel was nearby, and if she would see her this time?

She only just barely broke past the tree’s canopy before Lloyd rushed to her with a great hug, tumbling them both through the air.

The feeling was almost electric; Colette’s wings fluttered to try and keep them upright, as well as from falling to the ground. But Lloyd’s arms were strong, his hands pressed against her back while his wings stayed outstretched to catch the gentle gusts of wind.

“We’re gonna fall!” she called out, except her voice was already devolving into laughter, mixing with Lloyd’s own.

“We’re fine, we’re fine!” Lloyd’s grin could be felt against her ear as he already kissed her cheek. The affection made her want to hold onto him even more. “I felt I was going crazy without you here.”

It was too easy for him to make her heart beat so fast at just a few simple words. But she didn’t let go, her fingers moving to interlock just at his back, to stroke at his feathers. “Hehe, it’s only been a few hours.”

“Really? It felt way longer!”

For a while, both held each other in the air, lifted by their wings; one made of light, the other of feathers. She could have been content to just stay, to just soak in his touch like nothing else. It seemed as if Lloyd was ready to just fall asleep in her arms like this—until he spoke again.

“…I think Martel could tell I was getting kinda bored.”

She tried to hold back her laughter, which came out as something like a sneeze instead. Lloyd moved back to pout at her. “It’s not that funny.”

“It’s a little bit! I wonder what Yuan would think?”

“Oh, I don’t even wanna know…”

Even as she slipped her grip from his shoulders, she felt his hand take hold of hers. His Exsphere, embedded in his thick glove, winked in the sunlight, and was warm as her thumb rubbed it absent mindedly. Looking at Lloyd against the backdrop of the Great Tree, she felt light. He still wore bright red, though no longer did he have suspenders on. His jacket was larger, the button clasps still fashioned tightly over his chest, and the longer hem pulled by the wind. Though he no longer sported flowing white ribbons, Colette knew if she let her hands wander around his collar, she’d find the bow she would tie up for him every morning.

He had also let his hair grow out slightly in the last few years, just slightly, with a lock or two sometimes falling over his forehead. It almost always called to her to push it aside, to let her fingers linger as she did so.

And of course, how bright and beautiful his wings were, framing both his face and smile.

With a gentle beat of his wings, Lloyd led her closer to the tree, to a certain spot among its branches. The more she looked at it, the more she understood just how much stronger it was getting, and just how fast it seemed to grow over these past few years.

But she could see the concerned expression on Lloyd’s face, even before he spoke.

“Martel says that she’s been sensing some unease in some parts of Sylvarant.” Lloyd sighed, leading them both to an outstretched branch that reached towards the west. “Probably those Vanguard guys again.”

Colette had known of that. The reunification of the world hadn’t been met with complete acceptance. Many feared Tethe’alla’s power, despite efforts from Zelos and Sheena to dissuade it. “It’s enough to affect the tree?”

Lloyd nodded, landing on the branch with her. It was steady, with just a small creaking of the wood, the leaves whispering as they seated themselves, as they would do when they were children and climbing up the trees around Iselia. “So along with the Exspheres, I’ll need to check on all of this, too.” He scratched the back of his head. “Sorry. I just keep dragging you around everywhere.”

Colette swung her legs from the branch. “You know I don’t mind. I can help talk with people, like Zelos does.” It was what she had already done on their travels. Not everyone would listen, and not everyone forgave the Chosen for not completing her journey, but there were still others who did, and in that forgiveness, she found more strength.

She grinned a little at a past memory, one that caught Lloyd’s curiosity. “Hey, what’s got you laughing now?”

“Just remembering when that little girl followed you around back in Asgard. I think your wings were her favorite. And you even helped her fly with you!”

Lloyd grinned slightly, all while still gripping her hand. “Heh… I don’t think her mom appreciated that though.”

“Oh, hehe. I guess you’re right.” Even so, that day had made her happy—seeing Lloyd comfortable, when once before, he hadn’t wanted to be seen at all.

The branch they sat on was more out in the open, allowing Lloyd’s wings enough space to stretch and fold evenly against his back, to not be too buffeted by leaves and other boughs. It had still taken time for Lloyd to show himself in public as he was now, with wings that evoked the angels of Cruxis. Some had even wondered if he was yet a third Chosen that had appeared with the reunion of the worlds.

But something Colette had always noticed during their travels, something dear to her, was how the children were always the very first to accept Lloyd, to reach out for his wings with no fear at all.

The glade where the Great Tree resided stretched out before them, the sky slowly turning to dusk. The tree was just tall enough to stand above most other trees of the area, allowing them a clear view of the mountains that lied to the south. Colette felt content, her free hand pressing against the bark, where the mana of the earth flowed through, while the other still lay in Lloyd’s palm.

“I saw Blippy today,” she finally mentioned, the color of his wings reminding her of that white fur.

“Oh! So he’s doing good?” Lloyd asked. She heard the little eagerness in his tone. “I think it’s been almost a year since I’ve seen him.”

“Yeah, he’s doing really good! Father loves having him around. He’s taking good care of him.”

Lloyd smiled at that. Before they had given Blippy to Frank, she would often find the kitten in Lloyd’s arms as he slept, positioned in a way to not put more weight on his wings.

After only a short while, Lloyd then gave such a great yawn that his jawbone audibly cracked from the effort. His wings fluffed a bit at the action, and his back stretched. “This place always makes me so sleepy…”

“If you want, you could sleep right now. I’ll watch over you.”

“I haven’t really mastered how to sleep on a branch without falling down though,” Lloyd answered, then winced slightly. “Also, I think I slept on my wings the other night. They’re a little achy.”

That only made Colette move closer so she could press her fingers into his wingspan. Feathers shifted at her touch, and she watched Lloyd’s eyes flutter shut at her massage. “Maybe I accidentally rolled onto them again…” she admitted.

“Aw, well, I like having them around you though.” He sighed happily, feeling her kneading touch. “Like…extra arms… or something.”

Colette smiled, her wings still out and illuminating his feathers with a gentle and familiar glow. “I also stayed a bit late when I was home, and I got worried I wouldn’t make it in time to see you, especially for today.”

Lloyd opened his eyes again. “Huh… Why’s today so important?”

Ah, Colette thought. She stuck out her tongue at him playfully. “Because,” she started with a little dramatic flair. “It’s today!”

Lloyd blinked, one of his wings curving around her once the aches went away. “You’re so dorky sometimes. Seriously, what’s so special about to… Uh…” He froze.

Colette found his shocked expression so cute that she had to cover up her giggles with a hand. “Did you forget again—?”

“I didn’t!” He paused, his face colored in tomato-red, just a shade brighter than his clothes. “Really! I knew your birthday was coming, just…not today… But I really didn’t forget! Promise!”

Teasing Lloyd was always a fun hobby of hers, but she tried to show him some mercy. “It’s okay, Lloyd. I really don’t mind at all! Especially when there’s been so much going on lately.”

“No, Colette, I’m really serious!” Lloyd leaned forward, taking her other hand in his. “I already have your birthday present!”

Now it was her turn to be speechless. The wind pushed aside her hair, the leaves of the Great Tree whispering all around her.

“Er, well, what I mean is… I made it ahead of time.” Lloyd threaded his fingers with hers, switching from looking at their hands and back to her face in intervals. “I really didn’t want you to not have a birthday present this year. Especially since…this is the first year that we’ve been…

Colette’s breath was caught when Lloyd took her hand in his—the hand that held the ring he had made for her. He touched that ring gently, biting his lip.

“So, I didn’t forget! Kind of, anyway. But, to give you your birthday present, I’m gonna need this for a second.”

Colette hadn’t expected it. She was still for a good solid moment until a distant bird call brought her back to reality. “Oh! But, how come?”

Through his flush, and the stray locks of hair she wanted to touch, he said, “Hey, trust me. I promise it’ll be good.”

She had no reason to deny that. And so, she held out her hand closer to him. He had been the one to first put it on her, after all.

Lloyd delicately slipped the ring from her finger. Even from their height, she knew he wouldn’t drop it. If it had been her, it could have slipped off her finger and fallen to the ground below, lost among the bushes. But instead, it stayed safe in Lloyd’s hold, looking small within his palm. The topaz that he embedded into the silver band glittered, along with the engraving of Sylvaranti letters alongside it.

She had read it so, so many times, yet it never failed to make her heart clench.

Lloyd was so adept with his hands, that his steadiness didn’t falter at all when he reached for a small box that he had within a hidden pocket in his jacket. It was several inches long, lengthwise, and made from oak that Lloyd must have carved himself. She remembered those few days when he had gone back to Dirk’s home a month ago. Was that when he had…?

He opened it, and inside it was a golden chain.

“Lloyd…” she whispered, watching eagerly as he picked it up. And with his deft fingers, he had opened the clasp to slide her ring onto that same chain.

“Hold on,” he said, seeing how she was about to speak. He grinned. “I’m not done yet.”

Using his teeth, Lloyd pulled at his right glove. The leather came off, and there, on his ring finger, was a golden band that matched hers, but with ruby for its jewel. The red matched his clothes, matched the blushes he would give when embarrassed, matched the passion she would feel from him in their kisses.

He took off that ring, slid it onto the same chain, and then shut the clasp. Both of their rings clinked against each other, the setting sun reflecting off the cut jewels, making them shine even more.

Lloyd offered the necklace to her. “Is it alright if I…?”

Colette didn’t hesitate this time. She nodded rapidly, then quickly turned around, lifting her hair so that no strands would get caught. Her wings were out, still, but they moved through him, her mana mixing with his. It sent soft warmth across her neck at the sensation.

She still wore the necklace he had first given her years ago; a birthday present given late, fashioned and re-fashioned numerous times, so that it could counter the once crystal sickness that had run rampant on her skin. The runes inscribed onto it had faded a bit with time, the golden surface of it scratched from so much use. After so long wearing it, Altessa had told them that any threat from her disease should no longer be a reality. She would not revert to her soulless state, especially now that she could better control her angelic artes and senses.

Yet, Colette still wore the necklace. Nothing else had been more precious.

But she trusted Lloyd when he unclasped that childhood necklace, to be replaced by the new one. She felt the rings bounce against her dress, the chain cool on her skin. Lloyd’s fingers, both gloved and ungloved, brushed her skin as he fixed the clasp.

“Dad helped me out with the chain,” Lloyd said. “He made sure it still had the runes on it, just in case.” She heard him clear his throat, caught the white patch of a wing near her side. “I know you were worried about losing your ring, so… I thought this would help! And necklaces are harder to miss…”

Colette turned back to him, finding that same red flush on his cheeks that she had always known. Her fingers reached to clutch at their wedding rings, both of them, and how close they were to her heart. “This is so… But, now that I have yours, too…”

“Heh, about that… I made another! See?” He went ahead and pulled off his other red glove, wiggling his fingers to show off a similarly-crafted ring, with the same design of the ruby and inscription on the band. “I thought it would be cool if I had two of them! And then when I thought of your necklace, I figured I could use one of them for it. But I still get to wear this one!

He cleared his throat again, as if just hearing how silly that all was when said out loud. “A-anyway, I really wanted it to be special. Oh, and,” he held out the carved box that the chain had been in, putting in the older necklace in its confines. “If you still want to keep this one or wear it again, it’s here. But… I really hope you like this new one I made.”

And with another shaky breath, his nervousness both endearing and wonderful, Lloyd told her, “Happy birthday.”

Maybe it was the way it was said in the setting sun, or maybe it was how his wings caught the light, reflecting so many colors just then. Was it the closeness of the Great Tree? The mana that existed all around them, but could be seen in their wings? She thought he had never looked so beautiful then.

Well, except once.

So it was this time that Colette rushed to him in a sudden hug, laughing happily, and kissing his lips when she could. “Thank you, Lloyd! I love you!”

And if they happened to have fallen off the branch and knocked aside some leaves before finding their balance in the air, that was okay too. She was sure Martel would forgive them.

When Colette and Lloyd got married, Dirk had helped fashion the groom’s clothes, for Lloyd could not just go to any regular tailor. His wings made it difficult just to wear most things, but his father was all too happy to make the clothes special for his son. For he could invoke all his love in every stitch, all his pride in the chosen fabric color.

Colette remembered how Lloyd’s wings that day were so grand, how their white color matched her own dress. She could barely pay attention to much else at all, to their friends, to their families, to anything else. Just Lloyd’s wonderful smile, and the way their hands linked together.

“Hey,” he had whispered to her once it was over. Her lips were still tingling from their kiss, just now catching her breath. “I love you.”

His wings seemed to catch colors then. Maybe it had been from the setting sun, for the feathers tinged with orange, or maybe it had been from her wings, for the feathers were painted violet. Yet, she thought there was more, an array of colors from cerulean to ruby, from silver to gold.

She reached out to touch them, whispering her love to him as she stroked those feathers, as she watched his wings curl around her. He's beautiful, she thought, melting in his hold.

For Colette had always loved every part of Lloyd.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #frank brunel #colloydweek2023 #colloyd #fanfiction #multi chapter

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pbandjesse · 2 months

Text

My allergies are kicking off and I am exhausted. I had wanted to participate in house projects with James this evening but instead I have just been. Stuck here on the couch. Firstly I was freezing. Then I was just. So tired. Ugh. I will try to go to bed earlier tonight.

I didn't even sleep poorly. I would get woken up a few times. James pulled a lot of our blankets over themselves away from me. And I was cold. But it was fine. I was not thrilled about waking up but I was fine. I laid with James for a few extra minutes. But I would get up and things would be okay.

I asked James to make the bed with the. Blanket turned side ways so that we would have more length across both of us. And I hope that that works.

I would get dressed and felt okay. I really loved how my hair looked last night but of course it wasnt the same when I woke up. I sort of got it to a place I liked but I was still struggling today. I don't know what's up with me but I'm trying to be kinder to myself.

I left here earlier then I thought I would. I got a good hug from James before I left. And I got to see the pretty pink trees outside our house. Our tree hasn't bloomed yet and I'm curious what kind of tree it is. There seems to be a few of the pinks and them the rest may be the same kind but I do not know what kind they are. It will be fun to see how the neighborhood looks in different seasons.

I had a really nice drive to camp. No traffic at all. I listened to an album I loved when I was 12. And was just in a good mood.

I stuck to my morning plan and went to sweep top bar. Which took about a half hour. I flipped some mattresses and tried to make it look nice. And then I went to the office to go have my breakfast.

I would watch a TikTok that made me cry. About a girl and her dad having a really powerful connection over one specific song and he just passed away and it was just. A lot. I did not want to be teary when other people came in so I had to pull myself together.

Sarah would come in a little after 9. She had her own breakfast and we would start attacking our list of chores for the open house.

While Sarah would go work on cleaning the fort, I would design some table signs and then laminate then. The laminator did not work amazing but I ran all my signs through it twice. And headed out into the world.

I went over to the pioneers first and cleaned up the fire pit area. Moved the grill back in place. Fold red d the blue tarp. Picked up trash. It looks better. I also fixed a part of the fence and I think it looks good.

I would go and set up tables in the lodge. And clean the bathrooms. I was getting a lot done.

I started cleaning the signs outside. But I am short and could only reach half way. Which looked very funny. I got a lot of the green stuff off of the bottom halves though. And we would go with the gator later and I would stand on the back and we were able to reach two of the 4 signs.

I would go find Sarah in the fort. She was finishing up sweeping. I would help sweep the bathroom and we would finish up pretty easy.

We drove the gator to the Alaskans. I worked on the bathrooms while she swept. We had an excellent divide and conquer system and we got so much accomplished.

I would go over to tipis and picked up some stuff and tried to make it look nice. And since we were going to have our lunch break next anyway I texted Sarah I would meet her at the office. And I went for a little walk.

I walked down to the Glen to see if any of the frog eggs looked like anything yet. But nope. Still just dots. I'll keep checking. I want to see the tadpoles in there.

I continued the walk and went through and found some mushrooms and things and it was great. Just a really lovely walk.

I would have my lunch and me and Sarah both agreed we were so tired. So we took a long break before we would do anything else.

While I had my little break I would eat and watch videos. I did some research about cabinet colors to match with our pink wall. It was nice.

We would go back out and finished our last tasks. Used the gator as a ladder and cleaned the signs. We finished moving some beds. And I was proud of us for all of the hard work. We had lots of laughs driving around on the gator. It was a beautiful day. And even if I am feeling really self conscious I was still having a lot of fun.

We decided to go visit the horses. I hadn't met the new horse. And he is so sweet. We walked through the very muddy field and said hello to everyone. Have lots of pets and cuddles. And when we got to the bottom of the hill we saw a school bus pull up. And it was Aubrey! And she climbed the fence and starts walking and we're just standing there waving. And she finally noticed us and we were all laughing. We would tease eachother and walked up to her house together. She's a good kid.

We would head back to the office and checked in with Alexi about everything we accomplished. And it was nice that she was really happy with us and that made me feel nice. There was some stuff we couldn't do. Like putting the tent back together at homestead. But we did so much and I'm very proud of us.

Heather would ask me to design a job flyer. We need ropes specialists and apparently we are struggling to find them. I had fun making it and Heather would go in and change some of the copy which was fine with me, mine was mostly a place holder. We did laugh really hard when we realized that I wrote "flaying squirrel" instead of "flying squirrel" oops. Flaying a squirrel would be a good camp skill though probably.

I finished that up and when Heather said she was happy with it I was like. Okay! I'm going home! I will see you all on Sunday!

And I headed right home. It was a pretty good drive back, some traffic. Some people driving stupid. But I got home at 430 and got a pretty good parking spot.

When I got inside James wasn't home yet. I would bring the mail in. I closing s random Amazon package of pens? That neither of us ordered?? Very weird.

I went to put away some stuff. And found a jewelery box on the kitchen island with a necklace from James. That was originally supposed to be a Christmas gift but had gotten lost. But they found it and I was so happy. It's so sparkly.

I would go upstairs to take some photos of my possible outfits for Uganda. Which I'm still pretty unsure about but I'm getting clearer I think. And waited for James to come home.

When they got home they would play one round of their football video game. And then jumped right into tasks. I was kind of falling apart though. I got cuddled up on the couch and told James about the day. And they made me dumplings for dinner.

They would work on hanging the art I laid out some the shelf in the living room. And they got a lot of that done before the drill died and needed to be charged.

They would jump into painting the stairwell. And I would just be a little potato on the couch. But James said it was fine and just asked for my input when they needed it.

Now they are finishing up the hanging of pieces in the living room and it looks great. I'm so excited for how everything is coming together.

Now though I think I want to get a shower and get ready to sleep. Tomorrow I am hoping to go to thrift stores and possibly get the wood to build my skinny bookshelf. But we will see how the day unfolds. I just hope I can feel peaceful.

I have been feeling kind of stressed because I feel pulled in so many directions. Like I'm finally feeling better and so now it feels like everyone wants me to be doing everything and I just cannot. I need to be alone and I don't want to hurt my more extroverted friend's feelings. But man. I am tired inside. Walking around alone at camp today helped a lot. And I hope tomorrow helps too.

Sleep well everyone. I love you all. Goodnight

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 {𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟖}

Words: 6.3k+

Summary: Stuff does not go according to plan and you're not ready to put everything at stake.

Warnings: No Spoilers! Rich people being their privileged selves. Fem!Reader [no descriptions of race or body type]. Bad family relationships. Mentions of smoking. Usage of the term "Y/N" (once). Pure angst.

Parts: Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine [Series Masterlist]

The tall glass twirls in your fingers elegantly. Your newly made nails match with the darkness of the red liquid inside - the wine your father chose with such care. You keep your eyes on your hand as you play with your glass, not wanting any kind of attention from your parents, who sit by you in soft conversation.

The family tradition continues with your weekly dinners. Your mother has supposedly found this new restaurant in the city. It is quite elegant and, interestingly, mostly kept to its outside. Which, you have to admit, is quite risky to do in such a rainy city as Gotham. Its tables and chairs, all areas of service really are outside in between all the nature that they offer.

The day was dry and the skies were clean for the most part, which works as total luck for tonight’s dinner. The night has been calm and only carries a nice breeze as well, which is actually the only thing that keeps you grounded as you daydream at any chance you get.

Your heels rest over the wooden flooring on top of the soft grass. Wooden planks are lined up and fill the rest of the outside, leaving only a few areas surrounding you, far from the tables, with the pure green cut grass. The garden also seems to be an essential part of the restaurant, as every plant and flower is well kept and well taken care of. All sorts of colors, and cut in ways that make all of it seem natural to the naked eye.

There are golden lights hung over your heads across the whole patio. They are attached to the trees and posts on the sides, leaving soft lighting over everyone’s tables. They make the food shine perfectly and leave a soft atmosphere around you all.

It has been 2 weeks since your night in the diner and the conversation with your mother. You have been fighting your mind as you promised yourself to do. But, as predicted, you have grown tired of making your mind wander to other things anytime his face appears. It always feels stronger than you. Even though you keep on fighting it, you find it constantly winning.

You have come to a point of forcing yourself to stop looking into the darkness expecting him to be there, or be at dinners and looking around in hopes of finding him at all. He is not there, but if he is, you’re not expected to care. And even when you can very much always assume that it is, you act as if he is not.

You sometimes wonder if Bruce would notice your somewhat distance. That question sets in the nights before bed when you’ve had enough of the constant fighting with your mind. In those nights that you let it win, in fact. And the truth is that it's not like you two have had much time together. Therefore, you can’t help but be curious to know if he would even notice how you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. And, if so… Would he even care?

You shake your head in dismissal of your own thoughts and raise your gaze, still waiting for your last course of the meal before dessert. You listen as your parents continue to share words in soft mumbles and notice their quite good-humored expressions.

Work has calmed down for the past 2 days, which has come as a great relief.

You had a few stressful days with the new business partners, who seemed to change their minds on everything every second since you signed the contract with them. So, after a much more stressful meeting with them, you didn’t hesitate on terminating their contract.

Much to their shock, if you remember correctly. Your workers in the room didn’t blink an eye as they expected it to happen sooner or later; while the two CEOs fought for words out of their mouths. You can only assume their pride began to get stuck in their throats after all of it. And it was nothing but entertaining to watch at some point.

With this sudden change of plans, you got calls. A whole day and night in the office answering calls while pacing around the room and you got a new contract signed. It's with a company which was “happy to hear about your disconnection” from the previous one. This new company has been one of their rivals, of course.

That was all yesterday, just in time to get your parents in a good mood for tonight’s dinner.

You let go of your glass, tired of moving it around, and look around the tables. You wonder if your family has known about this restaurant for a long time because it seems quite packed. You don’t think you can see any table that is empty and for a restaurant as expensive as this one, you really can’t see it as new to the city.

Almost as if your father read your mind, you hear his question to your mother, asking about how she had found the place.

“I had some extra time during lunch today and began to research restaurants. I was growing tired of the last one.” She says before sipping some of her wine, “I found it quite easily, actually.”

“Strange.” Your father comments and you look at him, “Why would your assistant never mention it?”

“I asked her.” Your mother nods, “She said some nonsense about some people that ‘I might not be a fan of’ having a dinner here some months ago.”

“Months ago?” Your father says with a chuckle in between words.

“I know…” Your mother says with a bright smile, “Quite weird that one.”

Your father shakes his head humorously and looks over at you as a reflex. He offers you a smile when he sees you looking, to which you offer a short one in return. You look away, to not hold his stare for too long and have to begin a conversation, and notice some waitresses leaving the main building.

The main building is obviously connected to the patio part of the restaurant, yet it only serves the purpose of holding the queue of those that wait for tables without reservations, the kitchen, probably some staff rooms, and, of course, the grand entrance. One that with just a mere look, you could tell how many digits the dinner will end at.

One of the waitresses you have seen walk out of the building gets to your table and with her bright smile, she begins to put down your next course in front of you. Everyone, even your mother, thanks the worker before she leaves and she is quick to go back to the kitchen.

Your parents eat happily, and it doesn’t go unnoticed to you how dinner is still empty from any negative critiques. Something that can only be a true sign of their absurdly good mood.

“I heard the Hale’s are thinking of making an event.” Your mother says, breaking the silence.

“They must enjoy wasting money.” Your father tells her, making her smirk, “Didn’t they have a dinner just a few weeks ago?”

“They did.” You enter the conversation, getting their attention.

“Was it as bad as when I used to go?” Your father jokes and you smile at him.

“Lasted until 1, so you can only imagine.” You tell him and even your mother smiles at that.

The sight of the light air between everyone at the table makes it almost easier to breathe for you. It reminds you of your dinners with them when you were younger. They were always like this at that time. Light and fun.

It has been quite a while since you have felt like this with them. You can only assume that it is ever since business became a theme at the dinner table.

“Does she still have that horrible dining table?” Your mother asks you.

“Sure does.” You tell her, ignoring the way your heart sped up at her words, “She uhm…” You get lost a little in your thoughts, but you clear your throat to mask it, “She also apologizes for every time someone kicks another person.”

Your mother lets out a laugh at that and you smile down at your plate proudly.

“She is still the same, I see.” Your father says with a smile, influenced by your mother’s laughter, “Your mother gave me quite the bruises on my shins.”

“Oh, honey, please.” Your mother tells him, “I promised they were all accidents.”

Your father gives you a look as if for you not to believe her, and you laugh at him for it. Your mother notices and smacks his arm playfully to make him stop.

You three eat in peace and your parents continue to talk about their experiences in the long nights at Hale’s penthouse. Continuing the theme of conversation light and humorous.

“But what is that event about?” Your father asks, “Charity again?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Your mother tells him, “They haven’t told much to the media from what my assistant told me this morning... It should be in a couple weeks, I believe.”

You finish the small course after your father, and your parents fall back on a comfortable conversation. You listen to their voices, trying to keep your thoughts under control and away from you while in public. You don’t quite listen to their words, but the sounds on their own, just to work as background noise to your night.

A family walks past your table as they abandon theirs. Your eyes follow the group of workers, who are quick to appear, clean everything and arrange the tables back to perfection. They do it so quickly that you almost find yourself in a trance.

Your parents continue to speak and you open your mouth to speak to your mother, as you find their theme of conversation slowly becoming interesting. But, as you do it, you notice how your father is not looking at either of you and is quite distracted looking at the main building of the restaurant. His interest in the conversation has been completely washed away from his face.

At first, you even chuckle thinking that he is simply waiting for his much-needed dessert, but your smile drops instantly at the sight of who he is staring at.

A waitress is walking out of the main building, menus in hand, and taking two men off to a vacant table. They follow her as she makes her way through the busy floor and one of those men is none other than Bruce Wayne. The other man, whom you’re not sure you’ve seen before, is much older.

Your mother is the next one to notice as soon as she sees that even her husband is looking. Her smile drops and her hold on her fork lessens. It is an immediate reaction as she feels the anger travel through her veins, consuming her.

The waitress continues to walk through the tables and she talks and smiles at the older man. Bruce stands beside him as he speaks, but he is silent. He seems to be listening in either way and you notice how he casually looks up once or twice to seem as if he’s still a part of the conversation that is happening around him.

You look away and look over at your mother, not wanting to seem too focused on him, but you find both your parents staring at him shamelessly.

Both Bruce and the man continue to come closer to your table and everyone near, at other tables, follows them with their eyes, intrigued.

The waitress stops at a table tangent to yours, one in your complete field of view.

The older man thanks the waitress verbally and she leaves the menus at the center of the table while the men take their seats. You decide to take another look since your family still seems focused on him, and your breathing heavies at the sight of Bruce so close to you.

You watch him say something to the older man, a quick answer to something you assume he either asked or commented previously to your staring.

Bruce looks away from the man and his gaze lifts naturally to the tables near him. Everyone, from table to table, looks away. Some change their gazes back to their tables to stare at their cutlery, while others look elsewhere near them, to seem as if they were never staring in the first place.

His eyes meet yours and your heart jumps at how sudden the movement is. You look away, still determined to do as you intend to, and Bruce looks at you for a while longer as confusion meets his brain first.

He can tell from where he sits the way your firm and serious expression is mirroring how it was weeks prior to today. His eyes move from you to your parents and that seems to make them snap back to reality.

You don’t see it happen but you notice how your father and mother are suddenly looking back to your table. They automatically stare at you and you see how your mother’s shoulders relax at the sight of you staring at the other side of the garden instead.

As silence sets, you notice how the light air around you has thickened and no one dares to open their mouths to add anything to the conversation you were having before.

A waitress unexpectedly comes to your table and collects your plates. And this time, only you thanked her. Due to the silence, you find yourself going back to playing with your glass. There is no conversation for you to focus on, only at other tables near you, yet none of them helps you calm down.

You stiffen in your seat. You don’t want to be caught staring, it will only worsen everything further.

“You think this is who my assistant told me about?” Your mother asks your father.

Her voice almost comes as a surprise to you. You didn’t expect her to be the one to break the silence. Especially when, according to her tone alone, her previous good mood has evaporated and left her angrier than before.

“Might have been.” Your father answers, voice deep with his eyes also focused on his wine glass.

You look up at them, wanting to seem present in the conversation as they restart it. Yet you’re quick to notice how the two of them are going nowhere with their words. You stare at the two for a little bit longer, waiting and waiting for something, but nothing comes.

Your mother lifts her gaze from the napkin she was just adjusting over her lap, and her eyes meet yours. She doesn’t say anything or even expresses anything with the look on her face, and, due to your discomfort, you look away.

She didn’t like that.

“Did you know about this?” She asks.

You lift your eyes back to her and stop twirling the glass in your hand. A look of confusion washes over your face.

“Me?” You ask her, shock obviously thick on your tone.

“Yes.”

You give her a total look of disbelief and her eyes stare back into yours. In only a quick matter of time, you notice how her stare begins to turn into a glare. You look at your father for some sort of help, but he too is looking at you and not saying a thing.

“Of course not.” You say without hesitation. “How could I have known?”

Your mother doesn’t answer you but, in some way, the glare towards you worsens. You look helplessly at your father again, but he does and says nothing to help you. You are left to do nothing but stare back.

Frustration grows in your chest as you do not know what to do with the accusation. The reality is that you have done nothing that could lead to this. Your mother had been the one that heard her assistant’s warning and decided to ignore it, not you. If that conversation had happened with you, you would understand their side much more. But you had never heard of such a restaurant, for heaven’s sake.

The stares and silence continue and they seem to have no end. You break their gazes quite a few times but it leads to nothing, as they offer you even more silence from your parents.

As frustration grows, Bruce happens to look up at your table in the midst of conversation. He notices the lack of looks towards your parents on your part and the silence that presents itself at the center of your table.

He has stopped looking at you ever since he arrived. It had been right as he noticed you are in the presence of your family, therefore, he didn’t see it fit to continue. But he doesn’t remember seeing such stares.

Still not wanting to be involved, Bruce’s eyes don’t come back to you again and all you do is continue to look at your parents. Your hands by your lap have grown sweaty once more, and fear, as well as some sort of anger, appears underneath your skin.

“I didn’t know anything.” You tell your mother sincerely, “Why do you find it so hard to believe me?”

“I want to believe you.” Your mother tells you, “But you haven’t given me reasons to do it. The last thing our family needs on such a day of celebration is more rumors circling around.”

“And you think I want that?” You ask her, “The rumors hurt me as much as they do you, if not more.”

This is when your father sees fit to enter the conversation.

“It is a family business.” Your father decides to tell you.

You’re quick to answer him.

“A family business that I run.” You emphasize the word.

The two fall silent and you hold your own shaking hands as frustration continues to grow more and more. Your voices have been kept quiet the whole time and have not gathered any sort of attention from anyone around you, thankfully.

You look away from them out to the garden beside you and that seems to break the glares of your mother and the looks of your father. The two of them notice how you do a slight shake of the head in disbelief and, at least your father, feels some sort of guilt forming in his chest.

(...)

As the bill finishes being paid by your father at the table, you keep silent and your eyes low. You and your mother rise from your chairs in the uninterrupted silence between the three of you.

You adjust the burgundy dress over your body and adjust the chair back into place. You look up to find your mother saying a few words to your father as he also begins the stand from his chair.

You start to walk around the table, following the waitress that will be taking you to the door, and you’re the first to notice how she begins to make her way towards Wayne's table. Your parents seem to follow after you silently, and you move along with the waitress.

Much to your own disappointment, your eyes move from the waitress to the table beside her, and, to no one’s surprise, your eyes automatically meet Bruce’s. His face doesn’t say anything, as it never does in public, and he stares back into you.

You’re not masking any of your emotions, and he isn’t even sure which one to look upon first.

You step into the building after much walking and you hold in your emotions for a bit longer. You see the (still) very long line of people waiting for their dinner and the waitress stops walking. Your parents are the ones to make conversation with her, but you’re not quite in the mood for it.

“I’m going home.” You whisper to your father.

He pulls out of the conversation to stare at you and give you a nod.

You don’t hesitate before turning your back without any kind of goodbyes and make your way through the long entrance. As you get to the doors, you almost want to laugh out loud because there is no way your day could be any worse. The media is here.

They must be around 7 paparazzi, if not less, but they’re all talking to security, some of them even looking apologetic.

You consider going back to ask to leave through the back door, but going back to where your parents stand isn’t on your list of plans for the rest of the night. Let alone in a few more days, you don’t even know if you’d like to see them then.

You walk through the doors and you seem to gather some attention. Some of the paparazzi begin to snap pictures of you and others are simply filming. You do your best to ignore them as you try to find where your driver is.

“We were told Mr. Wayne is inside the restaurant! Is it true?”

“Did you speak to him?”

“Did you celebrate with him?”

Are you even surprised to hear any of these questions? No. Of course not. Not even the workers of a restaurant are able to escape any kind of possible drama. Sad that they don’t prefer to leave it to their eyes only and had to call reinforcements.

You find your driver just mere feet away from you. None of the men by the door seem to even try to get close to you, close in around you, and do anything remotely stupid in front of security. Much to your relief.

They continue to ask their bunch of questions as you walk to the car, and you keep your eyes focused on your driver. He’s just outside, leaning against the front with his two hands by his mouth. A sudden small flame illuminates his two palms as you continue to walk towards him.

At the sound of your heels, he turns to look over his shoulder and breathes out the smoke. He moves his hand around his face to try and hide it in the wind and does the motion to drop the cigarette to the floor, but you stop him. You outstretch a hand his way and shake your head before speaking.

“Please, finish it.” You tell him, “I’ll stay in the car.”

He thanks you and you open the door after he unlocks it quickly with his key. You sit in and shut the door beside you, leaving the people outside to stare at nothing but a blacked-out window in the night.

You let out a shaky breath as you look out of the window. Your frustration is getting the best of you. You stare as your parents walk out of the restaurant and are bombarded with questions as well while they walk hand in hand to their car.

You lean the side of your head on the cold glass and close your eyes, taking in various deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

Minutes go past and you enjoy the silence and lack of company in the car. You reopen your eyes and stare out to the entrance of the restaurant, where the camera-holders stay in conversation with each other.

The driver’s seat door swings open, causing you quite a fright that goes unnoticed by your driver. He sits in his seat and gives you a pleasant greeting, and an extra apology for being caught smoking. You dismiss it.

He says a few more words before starting the car and your eyes go back to the entrance, noticing the wave of flashes restarting. Bruce is walking out with the man he walked in with.

They keep walking, also being asked the questions, and, together, they walk to some of the cars parked to the left.

Security intervenes as the paparazzi try to follow them in the direction of the cars, and you notice as they say a few words to each other and go separate ways. The older man walks to one car while Bruce to another.

Your driver begins to take the car out of the parking spot, and the moving headlights catch the attention of both of the men.

They cannot see anyone since your driver has every window tinged dark, but your heart still tightens at how Bruce’s eyes stay for a second longer before you’re out of sight and going in the direction of your home.

(...)

The drive to your home should not be longer than 20 minutes with traffic, but you didn’t fail to notice how, at the 5-minute mark, two headlights of a familiar car take the exact same exits as yours does.

You don’t say anything to your driver, as you do not want to worry him, but, for the rest of the ride, all you feel is anger.

“Could you leave me at the back, please?” You ask your driver.

“Of course, ma’am.”

The final turn is done, and you undo your seatbelt. You notice how Bruce does not seem to be stupid enough to take the turn right as you do, and, right as the car stops, you begin to make your way out.

With a quick wish of goodnight and a look of fake good humor on your face, you shut the door and your driver makes his own way home.

Almost 2 entire seconds later, Bruce’s car comes into view. You take a deep breath, wanting nothing but to scream as tonight has felt nothing but exhausting.

All of it was perfect and now all of it is completely destroyed for something you weren’t even at fault for doing.

Bruce shuts his door and he stands feet away from you. You ignore your urge to stare at him for just a second and remind yourself of your situation.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, annoyance more than noticeable in your tone.

“You seemed upset.” He explains, “I just wanted to check on you.”

“So you followed me home?”

“Yeah.” He nods, “It’s not like I have your number or I can exactly walk up to you and ask if you’re alright while in public.” He says with a shrug, not understanding where all your annoyance is coming from.

“I’m fine, Bruce. You can go now.” You decide to tell him, not wanting to talk to him.

There’s some silence between the two of you and you begin to turn to face the backdoor of the building. You’re about to start walking towards it but his voice stops you.

“Did I do something?” He asks you with a hint of confusion.

You turn back to face him, and he hasn’t moved. He stands right by his car.

He knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. He has been going through the last days like any other day for the past years. You two didn’t talk, but he never saw it as anything new or different since you don’t do it regularly.

“Like what?” You ask, moving your hands by your sides.

“Something to annoy you. You definitely seem mad at me over something.” He tells you.

You stare at him and notice how, even without much movement, it’s almost as if your frustration has begun to rub off on him. He doesn’t seem as calm as when he made his way out of the car. He looks impatient.

“Just go home, Bruce.”

He doesn’t move, and neither do you. You sigh after much silence and look around for what is near you, almost as if to try to get a grip on yourself before continuing whatever is going on.

“You didn’t do anything. Now, can you go?” You ask him, pointing in the direction where he had just driven from. He still doesn’t move, almost as if not pleased with your answer, and senses that you are not telling him the truth. His lack of movement drives you further into your anger. “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

Your whispered words make Bruce’s heart skip a bit. He doesn’t know what he expected to hear, but he expected everything but that. You bring a hand over to your face as you say it, almost appearing as if it was supposed to be a comment to only yourself, and he wasn’t supposed to hear it.

“What did I do?” He asks.

“You need to go.” You simply tell him, taking the hand of your face and facing him, “You need to leave me alone.”

He takes a step towards you but he’s not sure why he does it. You take a step back in return. You don’t want to be near him and all he feels is confusion and guilt. Guilt over something he doesn’t even know he did.

“Why?” He finally asks.

“Because I cannot have you near me.” You reply, and outstretch your hand to point at him, “Every time you appear- Every time we’re together, everything falls apart. Everything good that I can have, that I built for myself, is always cut short because you are there.”

“Wha-”

“Bruce, just…” You bring your hands back to your face trying to keep yourself together, “Just go.”

“But I didn’t do anything.” He defends himself, “We haven’t even talked since last time.”

“And last time went so well, didn’t it?” You ask him, “Bruce we made it into the magazines, for fuck’s sake.”

“So what?” He asks confused, “They are magazines, no one important reads them, especially their rumors-”

“My family reads them.” You tell him, “They read everything that has my name on it, and I can’t have me being seen with you ever again.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt them.

“The story repeats itself, you know that. I’m having a lot of luck with my job right now. I don’t know why but I’ve been able to work and make advances in my work even after making a headline with you. I don’t know how long I have left until this luck runs out.” You continue, “It will happen again. People will see us and we will make it to the front page again. My business will be damaged. Just like the last time.”

“We were kids, last time.”

“They don’t care about that, Bruce.” You shake your head, “And it is not like now it’s any better… Do you know what could happen to me if people knew about what went on at Hale's house?”

He doesn’t answer.

“They will ruin me.” You tell him and you notice how your eyes begin to tear up, “I can’t have that happen. I need to work and focus on my work, and I can’t have you destroy that for me. Not again.”

“I didn’t fucking intent to do that on that last time.” He tells you with widened eyes and takes another step towards you, “We were kids. I didn’t want to talk to anyone-”

“I know tha-”

“Let me talk, for once!” He practically screams at you, “I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I hadn’t spoken to anyone for months, I didn’t like to be outside of the Manor. Y/N, I did not want to talk to people and, therefore, I wasn’t expecting you to come to me.”

You don’t say anything.

“I didn’t want to talk to anyone but I wanted to talk to you.” He tells you, much calmer now, “I just couldn’t do it. I tried to but I froze. I don’t know why but I wanted to talk to you and then, before I even realized it, you walked off.”

He takes another step towards you.

“I didn’t want any of that to happen.” He tells you softly, “I didn’t want you to walk off, or for anyone to make conclusions on what happened. I’m sorry for what happened after it, but I had no idea.”

You take a deep breath and stare him into his eyes.

“I get that, Bruce, truly, I do.” You tell him, “But I can’t let it happen again.”

“But-”

“You just don’t get it, okay?” You pause, “It’s different for you and me. People treat me differently than they do you. We’re different. I could work double the hours, and it wouldn’t even take half the time to destroy me the way it would destroy you.”

“It is not fair-”

“Fucking tell me about it.” You tell him, “Now, go home.”

The expression on his face is one that someone could read off as sadness, but you don’t even dare to stare at him for too long. You take a step back and begin to turn around.

“Please-”

“Just go the fuck home!” You shout at him. “I am tired of this, please, Bruce. Leave me the fuck alone!”

Your heart sinks at your own words and, now that you face him once more, you can read the obvious sadness in his eyes.

You always open your mouth to take back what you said and make everything better between you two but this time you don’t. And silence sets.

Bruce stares as you open your mouth but close it right after. His heart is set to a quick rhythm, but he feels how his hands have begun to shake. He stares into you but he almost feels like he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t exactly feel anger or anything, all he feels is disappointment at how this ended.

“You don’t get to do that.” He tells you.

“Do what?” You ask, “Look out for myself?”

“Selfishly? Yeah.” He answers with still an annoyed tone, “What about me in all of this? Everything that I’ve told you until now, you just completely ignored it and moved along. You are not even considering me.”

“Of course I am considering you!” You say louder. “God forbid I look out for myself and my business. But what will happen to you in all of this? And don’t you dare say nothing.” You point a finger at him, “After I begin to be hated by all of those that gave me my life for wanting to be near you, will you still be by me? Because you will be dragged right down too.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Don’t you say those things!” You scream at him, “Bruce, our businesses are not compatible. Your partners will let you fall!”

“Is business all that you care about?”

“Bruce, just stop!” You tell him, and he steps closer, “Please, stop.”

“No.”

“Why do you care?!”

“Because I care about you!” He tells you, “I have cared about you so much, I can’t just stop doing it. Please, just let us try and find a way.”

“A way of what? A way of what, Bruce? We are nothing!” You dryly chuckle even when your heart continually aches, “All we’ve done was talk for 2 nights and sleep on 1. Nothing more. I don’t know why you care for me when there is nothing for you to care about.”

He stays silent, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Just, please, let me go now.”

“This is not just about business is it?” He asks.

“No.” You answer him, “Now, please, go home.”

He stares at you, and you fight the urge of letting all of your tears flow. You clench your jaw and turn away. He lets you, this time, and he doesn’t say anything, nor does he move.

You jump each step of the stairs to get to the backdoor. Hand on the handle, you find yourself waiting in silence for him to say something, even when you just asked him not to.

But he doesn’t say anything.

You open the door and pull it open, walking into the warm building.

Bruce stays back and he stares at the gray door for just a little longer, waiting for you to walk out again, even though you told him to leave. The door doesn’t move back no matter how much he hopes it does, yet Bruce just stands there.

You stand behind the door, unmoving, your hand still on the handle. You can’t understand why you do it as you were the one to rip your own heart out.

You find yourself reconsidering everything that you just told Bruce. You had to push him away. You had to. He will be fine.

The look on his face repeats in your mind time and time again, and your heart aches more with each second that passes. Your hand finally dips down, and you push the door open again. But as you face the street once more, he’s not there.

Bruce already drove away.

Did I break your heart? If so, I'm sorry. I'll put it back together eventually, promise <3

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