#he will make sure to hire Dust to go through and water the flowers for him to make sure he has at least one of each color. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oh-for-merlins-sake · 3 years

Text

SLOW BURN | gw | golden

summary: y/n, a local florist, stops in weasleys’ wizard wheezes for the first time and finds more than she bargained for. soon, she’ll teach george that there are many reasons to stop and smell the roses.

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: alcohol

a/n: AAAAAH you guys i did not want to stop writing this!! i had so much fun, and i’m really happy with how it turned out! it was really challenging for me to write a “slow burn” relationship, but i hope i did it justice! as you’ll see, this is not a “song” fic, but a lyric (in bold and italics) was used. cheers to the first installment of the golden collection!!

taglist: @iliveiloveiwrite @andromedaa-tonks @pansydaisy @a-little-too-much @slytherinsunrise @marvelettesassemble @msmarklee1213 @letsgotothehop @finnishslytherin @starlightweasley @witch-and-a-half @darthwheezely @vogueweasley @gcdric @breadqueen95 (message/ask to be added/removed, loves!)

Blackbirds trilled overhead as you glided over the cobblestone path to work. The sun was finally reemerging from behind the dark, dreary clouds, which had just finished bathing the streets of Diagon Alley in a springtime shower. You admired the lingering smell of fresh rainwater that dripped from the eaves above you.

Today, you were taking a detour from your ordinary route. Your younger brother’s birthday was just around the corner, and you had yet to find a gift worthy of a teenage boy’s microscopic attention span and angst-ridden ennui. You smiled to yourself as you spotted the vibrant shop down the street with its mechanical mascot tipping his hat to you.

It was curious to you that this shop had a natural magnetism to people of all ages. If you hadn’t found a thing yet, this shop should surely hold something that would cater to your brother. You’d seen the troves of young wizards clamoring in a morning or two before.

As you approached the large front doors, you glanced at your watch: half an hour until the start of your shift. You strolled into the whimsical shop, dodging a Fanged Frisbee in the process. You slowly turned in place, eyeing the towering shelves of eccentric gadgets and vivid pyrotechnics. Truthfully, it was a little intimidating; where to start was beyond you.

“Can’t find what you’re looking for?”

Startled by the sudden voice, you spun to face its origin. You were met with a tall, redheaded man with freckles that practically danced across his cheeks as he chuckled at your expression. Suddenly, you felt sheepish. “Sorry?”

“You looked a little...” he pondered the right word, “overwhelmed.”

You laughed, “To be honest, I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.”

He nodded, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Younger brother’s birthday?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a guess,” he shrugged.

You were quite impressed. As he motioned for you to follow him up the stairs to the next floor of the shop, you couldn’t help but notice how familiar he looked. Surely you’d seen him before — perhaps in line at Gringotts or sipping mead in the Leaky Cauldron. You couldn’t quite pin it.

You were relieved to leave the gargantuan fireworks below — on behalf of your mother mostly. You followed him to a wall of massive tubes that were filled to the brim with colorful candies.

“Our full collection of sweets,” he announced.

You eyed the assortment, noticing the words Puking Pastilles on a golden label. “Are these different flavors or...?”

“Yes, but more importantly, they serve different purposes. These, for example,” he pointed to the pastilles, “induce vomiting — perfect for skiving class!”

You chuckled. “Surely these aren’t allowed at Hogwarts?”

“‘Course not! But that’s what makes them so bloody popular — hot commodity,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’ve got a sweet for nearly every malady.”

“Who even thinks of this sort of thing?” you mused — again, thoroughly impressed.

“I guess we do,” he answered, leaning against the counter.

Your jaw dropped. “You made these?”

He shrugged, the faintest smirk on his lips, “I made everything.”

“Get out!” you laughed, pouring some candy into a purple plastic bag.

“Of my own shop?” he teased. “I don’t think so!”

You twist-tied the bag shut and turned to face him. “So you’re Weasley?”

“One of them, at least — George, to be exact.”

“That’s wicked!”

You noticed his freckled cheeks growing rosier by the second. “That’s awfully kind of you,” he said, waving dismissively.

“No, honestly! It’s incredible!”

As you reached for another plastic bag, George rushed over to interrupt. “Here,” he pointed to the display of Skiving Snackboxes. “Take one of these — they’ve got all our best-selling sweets in one box. Your brother’s sure to love it.” He led you over, plucking a box from the top and handing it to you. “On the house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“I insist! Consider it an incentive.”

“An incentive?”

He nodded. “To come again.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Thank you, George — really! I just know he’ll love it!” As you turned the box in your hands, you caught sight of the time on your wrist: five ‘til. “Merlin!”

George furrowed his brows.

“I’ve got to go!” If you hadn’t known any better, you could’ve sworn you’d seen a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “But, perhaps you’ll stop by sometime. I can return the favor — clip you a free dozen roses for your girlfriend or something,” you rushed out.

“I’d have to find one first,” he chuckled, following you as you skipped down the steps towards the doors.

A warm blush flooded your face as you laughed nervously. You spun to face George one last time as he landed at the foot of the stairs. “Well, maybe you’ll stop by anyways.”

“Florist down the road?” he asked, pointing in the general direction.

“That’s exactly the one!” you called, stepping backwards onto the street.

You rushed down the path towards the florist, your step feeling a touch lighter than it did earlier. You noticed the result of the sudden sun after the storm: a rainbow hanging above the grinning man attached to the storefront.

“Aha!” you exclaimed, finally realizing why George had looked so familiar.

When you arrived at work, you swung the screen door into the greenhouse open, announcing your presence, “Sorry I’m late!”

“Not to worry, dear,” Muriel remarked.

Muriel hired you a few months prior, admiring your proclivity to gardening and greenery. She taught you something new every day without ever realizing she was doing so. Her green thumb had a knack for nurturing every flower both under and out of the sun. And her extraordinary eye for piecing together various plants and flowers to create a stunning and elegant arrangement never ceased to amaze you.

“Be a dear, Y/N, won’t you?” Jasmine grunted as she attempted to haul a heavy-bottomed, ceramic pot.

You threw your things onto a nearby stool and rushed over to lift the side closest to you. The two of you managed to hoist the pot just above the dirt floor to carry it to its destination.

“Re-potting the Wiggentree,” Jasmine explained, dusting off her hands. “Pretty soon it’s going to be too big to stay, mum,” she called to Muriel.

“Yes, I know, dear,” Muriel muttered, “That does not change the fact that it must be re-potted.”

Jasmine was less fond of gardening than her mother was. But if something unfortunate were to happen, the shop would fall to Jasmine, so she figured it’d be best to at least try and learn a thing or two.

You walked through the door leading directly from the greenhouse into the shop. “Morning, Candace!”

“Morning, Y/N!” the cheery teenager chirped as she balanced a vase full of violets on the counter.

A set of hooks adorned with various dirt-stained aprons lined the wall just behind it. You reached for the one with your initial embroidered in the upper right corner, quickly throwing it over your head and down your body. You tied a bow behind your back before throwing your hair up and stepping back into the greenhouse. You grabbed a pair of gloves and began heaving soil into the planter with Jasmine.

Beads of sweat were already forming on your forehead as the humidity of the greenhouse settled into your skin.

Re-potting the Wiggentree proved to be a difficult and timely task, taking up most of the morning. By lunchtime, you’d moved on to trimming daisies and de-thorning roses, and come sunset, you were planting hyacinth seeds and watering Flutterby bushes in the garden.

“Y/N,” Jasmine announced, stepping out from the greenhouse. “Someone’s here to see you.”

You wound your way through the garden and the greenhouse, stepping into the shop in search of your guest. Candace giggled as she zipped her coat and nodded towards the front door. You stepped onto the patio, where the outdoor displays danced in the gentlest of breezes. You were shocked to spot George leaning over to smell the roses.

“George?” you laughed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Someone said something about roses,” he teased.

“Well,” you began, walking over and gesturing to the basket of pretty, pink roses, “What do you think?”

“Well worth the walk over here,” he answered, smiling brightly at you as he rocked on his heels with his hands in his coat pockets.

Jasmine rushed onto the patio with her jacket and purse draped over her shoulder and swiftly said, “Y/N, I completely forgot about my mother-in-law’s birthday dinner, and Candace just left! I’m so sorry — would you mind —”

“Go on!” you hurried, waving her off of the patio, “I’ll close up!”

“Thank you, Y/N!” she called over her shoulder, “You’re an angel!”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes in amusement as she disappeared around the corner.

“I’ve got to tidy a few things but... the bar down the street doesn’t close for an hour,” you began, your heart fluttering as your stomach burst with butterflies, “We should take a walk and look at all the flowers down the alley.” You chuckled, feeling your face grow warm, “I planted half of them.”

George smiled, a light laugh gracing his lips, “All right, sounds good then.”

George busied himself with the outdoor displays while you prepared the shop for closing. He brushed his calloused fingers over the delicate flower petals, occasionally indulging in their sweet scents. He imagined how you likely smelled of flowers after a long day of work, and how that would be the perfect antidote to the lingering smell of gunpowder that constantly plagued his pillows.

“Ready?” you asked, stepping back onto the patio.

“More than ever,” he said.

As you walked down the alley together, you pointed out flowerbed after flowerbed resting on the windowsills of various shops and bakeries. Your favorites, he learned, were always the dahlias. He was surprised by the natural beauty that erupted from the brick and stone storefronts, and even more so by the fact that he never once paid attention to any of it. How could he have missed this?

“Merlin!” you gasped, rushing over to Mr. Reilly’s butcher shop. “Mr. Reilly has been doing an absolute lovely job tending to his poppies! You see, when I first popped in, he swore to Godric that he was incapable of keeping anything alive but himself, but look!”

George laughed, racing to keep up with you.

You led him to the pub that had just opened the month prior, Brenda’s Brews, whose owner agreed with your suggestion of keeping a few Fire Seed bushes out front to “really grab the people’s attention!”

Upon entering the pub, Brenda greeted you from behind the bar, “The usual, Y/N?”

“Two please!” you called, sliding a few sickles across the counter faster than George was able to dive into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it,” you winked.

“Okay, but next one’s on me, yeah?”

“No, no, consider it a thank you for earlier,” you said, raising your glass.

George clinked his glass with yours before sipping from the foamy ale. “Good choice,” he nodded.

“Can’t go wrong with a little Dragon Scale,” you remarked, savoring in its tangy, bitter taste.

“I’ve got to ask,” George began, setting his glass down on a coaster with The Weird Sisters plastered on it, “It seems like you know everyone in this bloody part of town. How come we haven’t met? Have you been here long?”

You laughed at his disbelief. “I’ve only been here a few months, so I haven’t quite gotten to everyone yet — for example, Number 93,” you muttered as you fidgeted with your diminishing glass.

“That’s wild,” he paused before snapping his fingers and saying, “Y/N?”

“Y/N,” you confirmed, taking a swig from your glass.

“And you’ve already made that big of an impact on everyone?” he continued.

You blushed, feeling flooded with a sudden warmth. You were quite flattered by the idea that you may mean something to this place; a place that was so new and intimidating not that long ago; somewhere you were certain a florist could never thrive: the middle of the city.

Perhaps the finger pricks from a thorn every now and then was worth it.

You shrugged bashfully, “I don’t know about all that.”

“Y/N,” a bartender called as he raced past, carrying two different mugs with different colored ales, “May loved the mayflowers! She said yes, by the way!”

You clapped, squealing in excitement, “Congratulations, Borden!”

George raised his eyebrows, as if to say, See?

Brenda bellowed, “Last call!”

You checked your watch: half an hour until close.

And despite the short burst of time remaining, it felt as though you’d been laughing and chatting away with George for hours. If someone insisted that they’d magically slowed time, you might have believed them. It felt so familiar to talk to George; it came so naturally. You wondered if he’d been talking since birth, given the way he animatedly told stories and produced witty comebacks within nanoseconds of the original comment.

At last, your glasses had been drained of their contents, and Brenda was shooing the last of the stragglers out the door. George followed behind you as you ducked out, calling goodbye to Brenda and Borden back inside.

Perhaps you’d been imagining it, but it certainly seemed that you and George were walking much closer together than you had been originally. One misstep and you might have brushed his hand.

You were suddenly distracted by the vibrant purple dahlias sitting outside of Rosa Lee’s. You raced over, carefully assessing exactly which flower to pick, explaining, “She won’t mind, I give her a new basket every week.”

George felt suddenly in awe of your natural grace and delight. It seemed so simple to please you: a dainty dahlia was all you needed to feel like the world was a good enough place to live. In a way, he envied your childlike wonder; it was different than the one exhibited in his shop by his products. It paid attention to the smaller things in life, rather than inciting big, booming bangs. It provided a sense of serenity.

You giggled and tucked the flower behind his right ear. He blushed as your hand gently grazed his skin. “How do I look?” he managed.

“Beautiful,” you said sincerely.

You continued walking as George fiddled with the dahlia. “Your favorite, right?” he asked, pointing to it.

“That is correct, sir,” you answered, impressed by his memory.

Once you reached Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, George leaned against the door and twiddled with the tiny flower between his fingers. He considered asking you inside, despite the lights clearly being off, indicating that the shop was clearly closed, and therefore, indicating that he meant inside his flat.

Likewise, you pondered the same prospect. You wondered if it’d be too forward: to suggest the idea of coming inside. Perhaps, tonight wasn’t the night.

And that was all right.

“Well, George,” you sighed, “I must say I’m really glad I stepped into this wacky shop of yours today.”

“I’d say the same,” he said earnestly.

You paused. “You’ll have to stop by again... you know, to finish off your bouquet,” you said, gesturing towards the dahlia.

He smiled. “You’ll be there tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, a smile growing on your lips. You stepped onto the street and waved.

The sight of George waving back with a lopsided grin on his freckled face was enough to tide you over until next time. You spun in place and apparated home.

Honestly, George liked the idea of taking his time, carefully picking flowers — a few each day — until his bouquet was erupting from its vase.

Maybe then, you’d come in.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #hp fanfiction #george weasley x fem!reader #golden collection

408 notes · View notes

qingxin-s · 3 years

Text

༉₊˚✧ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ : ᴄʜɪʟᴅᴇ x ꜰ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

note: i saw this prompt by abbysbooks on tik tok (tik tok can be found here) and i loved it,,,but wanted to put a happy twist on it. at the time of writing this, childe was winning in the poll

synopsis: (Y/N) is hired by a stranger to kill the eleventh harbinger, but as she spends more time with him...she finds herself unable to complete the contract

word count: 1.9k

warning(s): some cussing, mentions of killing but nothing too in depth, not fully proof read so may contain some mistakes

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

"You want me to kill who?" She scoffed as she leaned back in the chair, trying her best to keep her voice down. The figure before her just calmly sipped their tea, keeping their head tilted so she couldn't make out any of their facial features.

"You heard me. And if you complete the job without causing any suspicion, I'll raise the price to 1 million mora" They spoke nonchalantly, placing the teacup down and pushing their chair away. In the 5 years she had been doing this job...she had never been offered that much money before, and it felt wrong. No normal person would put that price on any other normal person...so the target must have been pretty important. Rubbing her temples, she keeps her gaze locked onto the table.

"Wait- I'll do it!" The h/c haired girl hissed as she stood up as well, and the figure let out a low chuckle. They handed over a photograph, which she took with a shaky hand, before stalking off- leaving her dumbfounded.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

The first step to a job was befriending the target. That always worked the best for her...it ended with the best results. There was no point sneaking around and making yourself look strange, if you were to befriend them- you were more likely to gain their trust.

And here her target was.

After doing a bit of research and asking around Liyue, she discovered her target was Childe- real name Tartaglia, and a puppet for the Fatui. He's feared by many, but to the unsuspecting eye he seems like your ordinary guy. He was sat at a booth at Wanmin restaurant, struggling to hold a pair of chopsticks- and she couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

If her job wasn't killing him...she'd think he was kinda cute.

"Excuse me, I'm so sorry to bother you whilst you're eating but I just wanted to ask. Do you know how to get to Luhua pool?" (Y/N) asked politely as she approached his booth, bowing her head as a way to show how apologetic she was. Now she was up-close, she could properly soak in his appearance.

Messy orange hair that fell in his face as he looked up at her, blue eyes that seemed to stare at her so intently, a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he waved a hand. He was handsome...there was no doubt about it. It was no surprise that the Fatui were so fond of him.

"Please, no need to apologize! I'd be happy to show you but...why do you wanna go there, girlie? It's pretty dangerous" He smiled with a tilted head, and she had to swallow the butterflies that erupted in her stomach. Damn him and his charm.

"I'm an artist, and I was told by a merchant that it's a gorgeous spot! I wanted to see it for myself" She beamed, patting the satchel attached to her hip that contained brushes. She had brought them specially for this contract- she wanted to look the part after all. Childe let out a soft 'ahh', now understanding her intentions.

"Well- I can't argue with that. Have a seat whilst I finish this, and I'll happily walk with you" He said whilst beckoning his gloved hand to the seat opposite him. She slid into the booth with a kind smile, placing the satchel beside her. So far, so good. He didn't seem suspicious just yet.

"Here, you're holding them wrong" She chuckled as she beckoned to his chopsticks, moving his fingers to hold them securely. It was a bold move, but she had to show some sort of interest otherwise he would start to get suspicious. After changing his hands posture, she nodded for him to try them- and it worked.

"Not only are you an artist, you're also a chopstick master...such an angel" The ginger teased as he sent her a wink, happily picking up the last of his noodles and eating them. He dusted off his hands, placing the bowl to the side and leaving a small coin pouch on the table as he stood up.

"Let's go, we don't want you getting there too late and missing the perfect shot" He grinned as she followed him, yelling a quick thank you to Chef Mao as they wandered through the streets of Liyue. She knew the way to Luhua pool, she even knew shortcuts. But if she got him alone, he may open up to her a bit more.

"I'm so sorry...I never got your name" She gasped as she walked closely by his side, looking up at him.

"That's because I never told you it, girlie. I'm Childe, nice to meet you" He teased once more as he nudged her with his shoulder, and she let out a genuine laugh. The teasing was something she'd have to get used to, and something she couldn't get too attached to.

"Well, thank you Childe! I really appreciate you showing me the way. I'm (Y/N)" She smiled, and he nodded as he took the information in.

"A gorgeous name for a gorgeous angel" He said dreamily, causing her to gently push him- trying to ignore the butterflies that fluttered through her stomach once more.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

The second time they met was the day after. He had shown her the way to Luhua pool, even sticking around to watch her paint a little- and he even walked her to where she was staying.

"I don't stick in one place for too long, so I can't give you an address to contact me. But...would you like to grab some tea with me tomorrow evening?" Childe had asked, and she happily agreed. She knew that this whole thing was for her contract...but she couldn't help feeling excited. Childe was a nice guy, he was fun to spend time with. So she couldn't help but wonder what the stranger that ordered her services had against him.

And now, here she was. Stood outside yanshang teahouse with the ginger close by her side. He looked the same he did yesterday, but the smile he wore seemed to be a lot brighter. She even put in a bit of effort, wearing her best clothes she could find.

"Well, angel- want to go in?" He asked as he offered her his arm, and she smiled timidly as she linked her own with it. She had never been to yanshang teahouse, she was always scared off by the hostess outside to even try go close to it. But Childe waltzed in as if he owned the place, sending her a wink as he spoke to a waitress and they were seated.

"Order whatever you like, I'm paying" Childe smiled as he beckoned to the menu, and she cocked her head ever so slightly. Surely...she should be the one paying. She took up so much of his time yesterday, but it made sense. When she asked around about him, she discovered that he had a *lot* of money, some even said he had more money then sense.

"I'll just have some tea...thank you" (Y/N) said politely as she placed the menu back on the wooden table, and the ginger quickly ordered for the both of them.

"How's your painting coming along, angel?" He asked as he adjusted himself in the seat, and she chuckled ever so slightly. When she was young, she used to paint lanterns and canvases with her mother...so she wasn't too bad at it.

"Good! The paint has finally dried, so I can go back again whenever if I need more inspiration" She grinned as she thanked the waiter, and she began pouring herself a small cup of tea. He watched her movements, soaking in every detail about her. What the girl was unaware of was that Childe was also interested in her. There was something about her that just left him wanting more, even if he had only known her for a day.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

This happened for 3 months. They were constantly going out to the teahouse together and finishing off the evening with a walk to Luhua pool- where Childe would walk her back home. And with every painstaking day with went by...she was beginning to find the contract harder and harder to think about. Every time she remembered that her sole reason of getting close to him was to murder him...it made her want to back out of the contract. He was so kind, so caring and she could tell he really liked her.

"Are you okay, angel? You seem distracted" Said ginger spoke out suddenly as he bumped his shoulder with his own, and she sighed. They were back at Luhua pool but this time- the whole vibe was different. They were sat side by side on one of the grass banks, looking out at the water that trickled softly. He had even picked her a flower.

And as she fell even deeper into her thoughts...she knew she had to tell him.

Tears began to trickle down her face as she pulled her knees up to her chest, turning her back to him to try avoid is worried gaze. God...he was going to hate her- and she didn't blame him. She had considered killing him for 1 million mora, anyone who hate her for that.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" He said more firmly now, the use of her first name showing just how worried she was. Wiping her eyes roughly with her knuckles, she turned to face him- and she let out a pained cough.

"Childe...I was going to kill you. I was given a contract to kill you, but I can't do it. I've fucked this all up! I like you too much...but now I've ruined everything!" She sobbed, and his face turned into one of pure shock for a split second before being replaced with worry.

"How much did they offer you?" He asked calmly, placing his hands on her shoulders to look her dead in her e/c hues.

"One...million" (Y/N) spluttered through coughs, and he sighed- he understood. He was a man disliked by most, so he knew there was people out there desperate to kill him. He couldn't blame her...he just couldn't. Anyone would consider it for that much money, in his eyes they would anyways. So sure, it was a shock for her to suddenly tell him...but he forgives her.

"It's okay" He suddenly spoke, wrapping his arms around her as she continued to sob.

"It's okay?! I just said I was going to kill you!" She choked, and he chuckled as he rubbed circles against her back.

"Yes, angel. It's okay. You was hired, and offered a lot of money" Childe whispered as he pulled away to look at her, cupping her tear stained face in his gloved hands. Her sobs finally began to die out as she stared up at the red haired man, who in turn was smiling kindly at her. Slowly, she allowed her hand to move towards his- placing it over the cold leather.

"I'm sorry" She croaked as she leaned into his touch, and he shook his head.

"I forgive you. Just promise me...you'll come to me if you need help with money. I can get you a nice job- maybe even one in an art shop" He suggested, and she smiled softly as she looked up at him.

"I'd like that" (Y/N) mumbled, and he grinned. The gentle splash of the waves below filled the quiet air, the chirping of insects singing along with it. It was so much less tense now...it felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. Not having to rely on the evilness of strangers anymore felt so good. She rested her forehead against his as her eyes fluttered shut, and he once again wrapped his arms around her.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin reader fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe genshin impact #anime #fanfic #x reader #oneshot

135 notes · View notes

lifesabe-ch · 4 years

Text

sugar momma - jj m.

summary: you forget you had plans with JJ, so you make him tag along with what your doing. he swears he isn’t enjoying it... but he definitely is

pairings: jj maybank x reader

warnings: none

a/n: more JJ. whoops. anyway, I wanted to do some kook stuff without the reader being all “I hate my life!” so... enjoy this mix of worlds :)

As you pushed open the door, you were greeted by a number of potent smells. The polishes were arranged neatly in rows, and the flower pots were freshly watered. The decor of the salon was simply enough, with black furniture and red accent pieces all around. The TVs on the wall were even on, playing some day time television show, the sound softly occupying the small space, save for some classical music seemingly coming from a back room. The space itself was air conditioned and the people seemed friendly enough. All and all, it was nice.

“This place has power and we don’t?”

Glancing over at JJ you shushed him lightly, smiling apologetically to the middle aged woman who was now giving the two of you a once over.

In a more hushed tone, he added, “Plus, it smells.”

Watching as he wrinkled his nose dramatically, you sighed, “Stop being such a baby. It won’t take long, then we can hang out.”

“Why can’t you just get your nails done tomorrow?”

“Because,” You said, already taking in all the polishes on the wall, searching for any color that stood out to you. “My mom is having this party and she needs me to look nice.”

“Ah, right. Forgot kooks have a standard to meet.”

Shoving him softly, you let his comment slide. You were used to hearing passing comments being made about kooks by JJ. Even before the two of you had started hooking up, you were used to the kook comments from his friend group.

Truth be told, you were an unlikely match. At first, the two of you couldn’t even look at each other. Your circles were taught to hate one another. But one summer, after your father had hired him to work on his boat, you realized that he wasn't all that bad. Sure, it took a little time for the two of you to warm up to the idea of one another, but that didn’t stop you from hooking up behind everyone’s backs. Hell, you were still doing it to this day.

No one knew the two of you were together. You always figured it’d be too much of a hassle to have to ease each other into completely different worlds. Besides, you liked having JJ all to yourself. He was your own dirty little secret.

“What about this one?”

Pulling you from your thoughts, you watched as JJ handed you a bottle he had pulled from the clear shelves. The color itself was a peachy orange shade. It wasn't so light that you could barely see it, but the orange tones weren’t so prominent that it was practically fluorescent. It was a perfect balance. And, it matched the dress he had seen hung on your door after sneaking into your room.

You grinned, getting on your tiptoes to lightly press a kiss to his lips, “It’s perfect.”

His annoyance seemed to disappear only momentarily, because as soon as you had made your way over to the free nail tech, he was already whining.

“Y/N, I’m thirsty.”

You sighed, “I have water in the car.”

He scoffed, “But it’s hot water.”

Having overheard your dilemma, the nail tech gestured to a small fridge in the corner, “We have water, if you’d like some.”

Grumbling as he walked over to grab himself one, he sipped it slightly as he stood over you once again.

In no time, he was back to whining, his hand finding his way to your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Hey, are you almost done?”

“JJ… he just started.”

He groaned loudly, making you recoil from the sudden noise in your ear, “Hey!”

He ignored you, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a bit, before glancing back down at you. This time, he hadn’t even bothered to whisper.

“How long is this gonna take?”

“Like an hour,” you replied, watching as the chipped polish was wiped clean off.

“An hour?” He exclaimed, “That’s so long! You just sit here and watch him do your nails for an hour?”

You shrugged, “It’s really not that bad, JJ.”

“What am I supposed to do for an hour?”

The man still listening, mostly due to JJ’s obnoxious whispers, and not-so-whispers, glanced between the two of you, before briefly gesturing over to his coworker.

“She could do your nails if you want.”

“No,” JJ spoke instantly, shaking his head, “Not happening.”

You were on a completely different page as him, thinking the exact opposite. Maybe this way, he wouldn’t whine the whole time, “Yes! That’s a great idea.”

“No. No way. I’m not getting my nails done.”

“You are,” You said, before looking back over to the lady who was patiently waiting to see if she had just gained a customer, “He is.”

“Ugh, Y/N!” JJ whined.

“Come on! How else are you gonna spend the time? Watching me watch him do my nails?”

“I’m just gonna mess them up anyway,” he shrugged, glancing down at his dirty fingernails subconsciously.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not paying for them then.”

“No, I’m not letting you pay for me to get my nails done,” He scoffed. “You pay to get my nails done? What am I, a housewife?”

Sighing lightly, you pulled your free hand into your pocket and pulled out a credit card. Gesturing to the girl at the front desk, you handed it to her as she walked over.

“Can you charge me for two manicures?”

JJ groaned, “Ma’am, no, please don’t listen to her.”

The woman looked between the two of you, your card in hand, unsure of whose direction to follow.

Narrowing your eyes slightly at the boy, you waved him off, “Don’t listen to him. And give yourself a $20 tip, too.”

With that, she was off to swipe your card and tip herself, JJ’s argument practically unmade.

Grinning sweetly at him, you pat his arm with your free hand, “All done. Now, are you really going to make me pay for nothing?”

As the woman returned your card, he begrudgingly made his way to the chair a table over from you, watching as the person seated across from him began working.

“For the record, I’m not going to enjoy this.”

Rolling your eyes, you looked back at your own hands, shaking your head to yourself.

“Your boyfriend seems like a handful,” the man filing your nails commented, reprimanding you as you recoiled slightly.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“And he’s getting his nails done for you?”

When you didn’t respond, he glanced back down at your nails, before adding, “Seems like he wants to be.”

Eager to defend yourself, you scoffed, shaking your head, “No, that’s not it. We’re not together… not like that anyway.”

“So, he’s just a sugar baby?”

Your eyes widened at the insinuation. JJ, your sugar baby? No. The two of you paid for things equally… you paying for the more pricey places the two of you visited, him paying for wherever he had chosen for you two to visit. It was fair… but glancing over at the blonde haired boy, you began to piece together why he thought that.

While you wore your most casual attire, it was still ten times pricier than what JJ had on, his loose fitting t-shirt and cargo shorts doing apparently all of the talking for the image he gave off. You didn’t mind his fashion sense. Sure, you didn’t like it, but you didn’t mind it. You liked how relaxed he looked. You also liked stealing his clothing from time to time. And you loved how his hair was always naturally tousled. It made you want to run your fingers through it, appreciating the lack of hair product he used.

As you admired the boy, you realized that the man may have been on to something. Not about the sugar baby thing, the other thing. The two of you weren’t dating, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to be. You wouldn’t mind having JJ as your boyfriend.

Realizing you hadn’t given him a response, you looked back over, shaking your head, “No, he’s not.”

He only shrugged.

The rest of the time passed in relative silence. Even JJ didn’t talk much, only asking a few questions here and there about what that was and what this did. In about an hour, like you had said earlier, the two of you were walking back to your car.

“That guy back there asked if you were my sugar baby.”

“What?” JJ sputtered, shaking his head at you as he stopped examining his nails, “No! I’m not your sugar baby.”

Laughing a bit at his reaction, you shrugged, “I didn’t say it.”

Even though you were the one driving, JJ opened the door for you before running around and getting in on the passenger's side.

As he sat down, he shook his head, mumbling, “Now I’m a sugar baby and I have my nails done. Next thing you know, I’m gonna be jumping into bed with John B.”

Poking him gently, you grinned, “Hey, he’s not that bad looking!”

“Hey! Stop that, he’s mine,” JJ joked, smiling as he got a laugh out of you.

As he scanned through your radio, the two you sat in silence. You hadn’t pulled out of your parking spot yet, instead just admiring his features.

Glancing over at you, he smirked, “Wow, already thinking about getting your hands on me again? Thought this morning would’ve been enough-”

You scoffed, cutting him off, “Shut up, asshole. He also asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

For the first time all day, JJ didn’t know what to say. He stared at you as he cleared his throat, fiddling with one of his rings, “What’d you say?”

“I said no.”

“Right,” He nodded. “Because we’re not dating. So… that makes sense that you said that.”

“Do you want to be?”

“What?”

“What?” You responded, shaking your head as a blush dusts across your cheeks. Uneager to repeat yourself, part of you hoped he hadn’t heard you and you could just pretend you hadn’t asked.

“Are you… are you asking me out?”

Your eyes trace along the hem of your top, desperately searching for something, anything, to look at that wasn't JJ, “Maybe? I mean, if you want. If not, we can just pretend I never asked.”

Gently lifting your chin with his hand, your eyes met his as he reached across the center console and pressed his lips to yours. It took you a moment to react, but your hand soon found its way to his hair as you got closer to meet him halfway.

Pulling away after a moment, JJ grins at you, “I can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“I’m really shacking up with a kook.”

“Hey!” you shout, playfully shoving him back into his seat.

He laughed, leaning back over to grab your hand, “I’m joking. But seriously, I thought you’d never ask.”

Smiling at him, you brought his hand up to your lips, kissing it softly, “Really? Part of me thought you’d say no after I made you get that manicure.”

“I mean, you’re no John B.,” you rolled your eyes at his comment, but let him continue, “But I don’t mind getting manicures every once in a while if it means I get to be your boyfriend.”

Later that day, JJ found himself back with his group of friends. The two of you had decided to keep things between the two of you for just a little while longer. At least, until you figured out how to tell everyone. So you had dropped him off near John B’s house after your afternoon together and headed home.

Now he sat on the edge of the boat, and examined his newly manicured hands, letting the sun bounce off the shiny surface, as he twisted them left and right.

John B. looked over at his friend, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, “Dude, are you going to help?”

“I can’t,” JJ said simply. “I’m a new man, John.”

Rolling his eyes at the blonde, he paused his work on the boat’s motor and made his way over to him, “What?”

Wordlessly, JJ extended a hand, showing off his clear coated fingers. John B. examined his hands for a moment, before skeptically glancing up at his friend, “Did you get a pedicure?”

“Don’t be stupid, John. It’s called a manicure,” JJ chastised, pulling his hand away.

Making her way over, Kie stood beside John, crossing her arms over her chest, “How’d you afford that?”

“Probably stole it,” Pope added, glancing over from his spot in the shade, but not making any move to get up.

“I’ll have you know that this manicure was paid for in full. A tip was even left.”

“You shackin up with a kook now?”

Rolling his eyes, JJ shrugged, “Guess you could say I’ve got a sugar momma.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank outerbanks #jj outer banks #jj maybank x reader imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank outer banks #outer banks #outer banks imagine

1K notes · View notes

sirowsky · 3 years

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Warnings: Language

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Hint to what the title is all about, and plenty of Máma Moreno.

Chapter 6

The house was a mess, to say the least. You had left in a hurry that evening, after things had taken a very sharp turn towards very bad, shortly after your dinner. You’d been glad that you had only eaten a light pea soup, when it came back up again some ten minutes later. You’d only just made it to the bathroom, but after the food had been coughed up, a large amount of fresh blood had followed, and you knew you were in trouble. Why you hadn’t called for that ambulance was anyone’s guess, but then, you had never liked being a bother, and you had been perfectly capable of walking out to the cab. It was just that, in the twenty minutes that the drive had taken, you’d gotten significantly worse. Your whole body had started hurting, you’d begun bleeding from the nose and ears, and just as you got to the hospital, you had begun to get spasms and cramps in your spine and legs. When you staggered into that emergency-room, you did it truly convinced that you’d leave it in a coffin.

You shuddered slightly with the memory, as you walked through the house, opening all the blinds and pulling all of the curtains back again. It was already late, and thus dark outside, but you wanted to wake up to a house that bathed in sunlight in the morning. The kitchen was probably the worst, in terms of the amount of cleaning that would need to be done. The remnants of your cooking that evening where still on the counter and in the dishes, and the amount of mold that was growing in there was somewhat disturbing. You couldn’t leave that for the morning, you’d lose every ounce of appetite waking up to that crap. So, you set about throwing away everything that had been left out on the counters and in the sink, and quickly scrubbed all the open surfaces clean, before handwashing some of the glasses, plates, mugs and cutlery, that had gotten dusty even sitting in the cabinets, in the four months you’d been gone. Once the kitchen felt usable again, you went to the bathroom to check what state that was in. It wasn’t too bad. You flushed all the pipes and let the water run in the sink and the shower for a good half-hour to clean them out, and begin to work away the smell of stagnated water. The toilet needed a decent scrub too, but it could wait until morning. It was after midnight when you’d finally changed the sheaths in the bed and settled in for the night.

A sharp rapping on your door woke you after what seemed like mere seconds. But the sun was up, so you looked at your wrist-watch – 06:15 – and sighed. Who the fuck would be there at that hour? Grumbling into your pillow, you turned over and decided that whoever it was would have to come back at a more decent hour.

“Come on now, mujer, I don’t have all day.”

You physically jumped at the sound of Anita Moreno raising her voice behind your front door. She wasn’t shouting, just applying a good amount of force to her voice. Just enough to make you feel a size smaller than usual. You scrambled out of bed and grabbed a robe which you put on whilst walking towards the door. You had no idea what you looked like, but you hoped there was an air of scarecrow to you. You’d found her intriguing when you first met her the day before, but she was little more than a damned annoyance right now. You were not a morning person, and especially not today when your body was tired and sore from the tests.

“I’m not gonna ask if you know what time it is, because you obviously do, and you obviously don’t care, so don’t beat around the bush and just tell me what the hell you want so I can go back to bed and finish waking up.”

“You always this cheerful in the morning?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be sure to let Marcus know.”

“What does my morning mood have to do with Marcus?”

“Nothing. Yet…”

What? No, no, don’t let her distract you, idiot.

“What do you want, Mrs. Moreno?”

“Tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

Nope. You’re not doing this, whatever it is, you’re not doing it at 6 fucking 15 in the morning.

“Have a nice day, Mrs. Moreno.”

As you went to close the door, she simply barged right in, straight past you, and completely unbothered walked into your kitchen while you scrambled after her, shocked and abruptly furious.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Don’t you cuss at me, mujer.”

“If you want me to treat you politely, then don’t fucking barge into my house uninvited.”

“Calm down, I’m not staying for breakfast. I just want you to answer a few questions.”

Unbelievable.

“You’ve got some nerve.”

“I’m old, mujer, I don’t have time for intermissions. Now, tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

You were fuming, but this woman was a super. She wasn’t leaving until she decided to leave. So, you took a breath.

“Dahlias.”

“Interesting choice. Why?”

“What does it matter? What do you want from me?”

“Do you know the origin of Dahlias?”

“Why? Am I to expect a pop-quiz banging on my door tomorrow?”

“The Dahlia came from my ancestors, the Aztecs, they called it The War Flower. Nowadays, it’s known as the King of summer flowers, because of its wide range of shapes, sizes and colours. It has something of a demanding presence, you never walk past a Dahlia without seeing it. And yet, it doesn’t ask you for much.”

“Do you have a point, or is this becoming a lecture on the mythology of flora? Because I will go back to bed and ignore you until you leave.”

“It’s an observation. What’s your opinion on supers?”

“Are you serious? Ugh, forget it, of course you are. Fine. I have nothing against them, but I don’t adore or idolize them. They’re flawed just like the rest of us.”

“What’s Marcus’ flaws?”

“He’s… too kind for his own good sometimes. He let’s people walk all over him if he thinks that it’ll keep the peace. And he… tries to carry the whole world by himself if you let him.”

She smiled.

“Good. You’re hired. I expect you at Heroics HQ at 7 am tomorrow morning.”

…what THE FUCK…?!

She walked back towards the door, while you stood dumbstruck just staring after her. She had reached the door by the time you unfroze and ran out to the hallway.

“Wait, what the hell are you talking about? Hired for what? I didn’t ask you for a job.”

“No, you didn’t. But you need one, and I’ve got one. Take it or leave it, if you’re not there by 7, I’ll know what you chose.”

You stood in the door, watching her disappear into a black SUV, and drive off.

Did that actually just happen? It must have, there was no way in hell you’d ever even dream something like that. You shook your head, and decided that there was no point in going back to bed now, your head was buzzing, so you might as well have breakfast and get the cleaning going. As you went to the bathroom you caught your reflection in the mirror, and smiled to yourself. There was definitely an air of scarecrow. You turned the TV on while you made tea, and tried not to think about what had just transpired in your kitchen. You had always loved coffee before, never started the day without it ever since you were 16. But your body seemed to have become oversensitive to it after your cellular breakdown. You’d had your first cup about a month ago, and it had really done a number on you. You’d been hyperactive for hours with uncontrollable twitches and insistent trembling in your hands. You’d given it a second try a week later, but even just half of a small cup had resulted in the same outcome, so you had accepted that your coffee-days were over. You were actually really starting to like tea, especially the spicier types.

The news showed a highlight reel from the Heroics latest outing, and you found yourself glancing at the footage, looking for a glimpse of Marcus. You saw him flash by as he fought someone, or something, you weren’t sure, and then again when the fighting was over. He looked confident and strong when he was out there. When he had an enemy in front of him, and a clear task. It was enticing to watch. Oh, who were you kidding – it was fucking hot! You shook your head and turned the TV off as you finished your breakfast. There was a lot to do to get the house in order, and you had a plan to get it all done. The problem was that a certain uninvited guest kept popping into your head, distracting you with thoughts about flowers and what the hell that job was all about? So, by lunchtime, you weren’t anywhere close to where you’d hoped to be. You’d managed to wipe down all the surfaces where dust accumulated, and the vacuuming was done. But you’d hoped to have washed the floors and beaten the carpets and cleaned the refrigerator and freezer by then.

Oh, well. Rome and all that.

You decided to have pizza for lunch and called in an order. But later, as you were eating said pizza, you had something of a lightning moment. You didn’t need to sit there and just fidget and wonder and worry about what you were gonna do tomorrow. You could just go back to HQ and talk to Marcus. He’d only be happy to see you, he’d said as much when you went to find him to say goodbye. It hadn’t been a very long exchange, since you’d been eager to get going, knowing there’d be things you’d have to do before going to bed. But he had said that he’d miss you and that you’d always be welcome to visit them. So, why not? If anyone could tell you what Máma Moreno was up to, it’d be her son.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight

@farfromjustordinary

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

67 notes · View notes

whimsicallyreading · 3 years

Text

Dark Roast No Sugar

Chapter Three

Aelin would never admit it out loud, but a day off was just what she needed. She spent the morning napping, snacking, and reading. Her stomach settled, and when she took off her shoes, her feet didn't look like they belonged to a bloated cadaver.

Spending that time with Aedion was also refreshing. He kept the conversations light. Telling her about the antics between hostesses at The Pits, a run-in between Ren and the police. A story about the drug dealer they'd roughed up and how he'd pissed his pant when he saw Aedion and the stray puppy Kyllian had snuck into The Den.

When they got hungry, Aedion offered to make them a late lunch. Her mouth watered at the prospect of his famous grilled cheese with two kinds of cheeses and ketchup.

Lysandra came up to join them for lunch and her nose wrinkled at the sight of them dragging the cheesy goodness through globs of red sauce. "By the dark god, you two. That's disgusting."

Aedion grins, a dot of ketchup on his chin, "You haven't even tried it yet. This meal is a riot with the guys and saved my ass with foster siblings." He wiped his face on his sleeve and leaned back in his chair. "You don't shit on the kid who can actually make edible food."

Aelin laughs and dusts her hands off like a lady. "Actually, you don't shit on the kid who looks like he started doping at eleven. But yeah, I'm sure it was your budget lunches that saved you."

"Shut up, you love it when I cook," Aedion collected their plates.

Lysandra pulls up the chair next to Aelin's at their tiny, rickety table. She set down her container of salad, looking classier with her more mature pallet. Aelin swiped a cucumber from the top and chewed into the seasoned veggie. "Your food is nostalgic. What can I say?"

Aedion's playful demeanor seemed to deflate suddenly, a furrow creasing his brow. "I suppose why I have you two together, we should talk some business."

"Uh oh, that doesn't sound good." Lysandra tensed up, shooting a worried look at Aelin.

"Is it the bidding for this month? I told you I could get at least an extra hundred dollars to you by the end of the month. If you need more, I could-"

Aedion cut off Aelin's rambling with a raised hand. "It's not the bidding. Elias pulled enough to cover our bets for the month." Relief flooded through her, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

The underground fighting game in Orynth was wildly exclusive. To get a spot during prime hours when tickets were hot and the betting pool was hotter, the local gangs had to participate in an auction. It was pricey, but the cuts you got from winning a fight made up for it big time.

Unfortunately, the Bane was not a wealthy group of men. A lot of them had families or relatives they were supporting. They usually scavenged up enough money to get two or three guys into the fights, and those funds were just enough to pull them through to the next month.

Like Aelin, those families did what they could to fund money towards the bidding. Initially, she was going to volunteer as a fighter, but she found out about the baby, and they all agreed it was too risky for her to get in the ring. As soon as she was cleared, she still intended to participate in the fights to Aedion's chagrin.

Between the extra patrols of her street and snuffing the rumors of her existence in the city, it took a chunk of the Bane's recourses and time. Aedion assured her that the guys understood her circumstances, but she contributed as much as she could monetarily until she could contribute physically as well. "What's going on then?"

"Rolf took a beating in the ring last night. He's going to be out of commission for a while, but we didn't lose any money. He managed to bust the guy's head at the last moment and pulled through." He paused.

Aelin was confused, though. It wasn't uncommon for one of the guys to get roughed up a bit, so long as they didn't lose, there wasn't an issue. "That's too bad about Rolf, but I don't see the problem?" she pushed him to continue.

"He swears the guy was tripping on Synth," Aedion breathes out, pained.

Oh.

"Shit," Lysandra swears and stands up. "Is he sure it was Synth?"

"It's kinda hard to rutting mistake, Lysandra," Aedion snapped. He was right, though. The Pits had rules against cheating, but they were followed loosely. If they couldn't see a knife being pulled, the fight wouldn't be called. Some of the Bane even doped before a match just so they wouldn't get caught at a disadvantage.

Synth had a lot of physical effects. Adrenalin coursed through the user at such high rates it was practically superhuman. It gave them crazy speed, strength, and heightened focus. On the flip side, it also caused fever, bulged veins, twitching, bloodshot eyes, and uncontrollable rage as you came down. It would be hard to mistake it for any other street drug. Aelin had taken Synth once before, and it wasn't an easily forgettable experience.

The detail they were glossing over was that only one person was currently capable of leaking a drug like Synth on the streets.

Arobynn Hammel

"So," Aelin finally said, breaking up the heated glares they were sharing. "He's making his presence in Orynth known."

Quiet.

"We can't know it for sure," Aedion looked at her with a sickening amount of pity. Aelin didn't want sympathy or comforting falsities. She wanted the truth.

"Bullshit," Aelin declared, making Aedion wince at the sudden sharpness. "We've had sightings of Tern and Mulligan already. We knew he was sending eyes out. They must have seen us."

Lysandra sunk back into her chair and rested her head in her hands. "I thought we made it?" her voice sounded extraordinarily young, feeble. Not at all like the vivacious woman they were used to seeing.

"Lys," it was Aelin's turn to rest a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

Her eyes were glassy and hollow when she looked up. "I really had myself believing we made it."

Aelin's heart broke for her.

Arobynn was a sick son of a bitch. She, Lysandra, and Sam had all come into his care at different times and served various functions within the Manor. One thing was the same though, they were all children.

They were all coerced into doing grotesque things for Arobynn's sake. Things that they should, in all honesty, spend years in therapy to recover from. Yet, some horrors were too big for even Aelin to pretend to understand.

Horrors that Lysandra was forced to live with every day.

Arobynn's unofficial mistress.

Aedion's fist slamming against the table startled them both and snapped Aelin from her thoughts. Lysandra flinched and leaned closer to Aelin. "It doesn't matter."

He pointed his finger at them and then stabbed it into the table. "It. Does. Not. Matter. Where that piece of shit is. Rifthold? Wendelyn? He can be an hour away or watering the rutting flowers next door, but he will never have either of you ever again." The golden core in Aedion's eyes was molten.

The excitement was too much for Lysandra, and the dam behind her eyes broke. Deep, heavy sobs ripped from her chest, and her body wilted forward like a wind-whipped flower.

They moved at the same time, but Aedion was faster. He pulled Lysandra from her seat and gathered her against his chest, shushing her and whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

The bells rang downstairs.

Aedion looked up helplessly, but Aelin raised a hand and mouthed, "It's fine."

None of them wanted Lysandra to be alone right now.

Aelin slipped her shoes back on and hopped down the stairs quickly. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too pissed no one was behind the counter when they walked in, she mused to herself. It only took her half-a-minute to get downstairs, but it was amazing the things people got outraged over.

Mala forgive that the coffee gets in their hand a second later than usual.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or was Aelin Galathynius taking a break?" Dorian Havilliard's greeted her with a bright smile and upraised hands. No trace of agitation at all.

Chaol Westfall stood behind him and meekly tilted his chin. "Hello, Aelin."

"Hello, Chaol." She greets him with a smile and walks into Dorian's outstretched arms. Aelin wasn't a hugger, but Dorian's hugs had a magic to them.

"Where did you go?" Dorian asked without breaking his grasp. "I never thought I'd see the day you weren't slaving away behind the counter grinding beans."

"We weren't super busy today, and I wasn't feeling the best," Aelin admitted.

Dorian pulled away slightly to look down at her in concern. His dark, thick-framed blue light glasses slipping down his nose.

"It's just the baby," she assures him. "Not the flu or anything. You don't have the right parts to catch what I've got."

Chaol snickered, but Dorian's concern only worsened. "In all seriousness, you aren't working yourself too hard?"

Aelin rolled her eyes. If one more person asked her that-

"I'm fine, Dor. It was just some morning sickness and a stressful customer that came through. No big deal."

His shoulders relax, and he releases her from his arms. "I believe you. Just-" he fumbles for the words to say, "If you have troublesome people coming in here and bothering you, let me know? Chaol can come over and hang out for the day. He has a friend, Nesryn. If it gets bad, I am more than willing to hire her-"

Aelin smiled at him and waved at him. "No need for bodyguards. People are rude. It happens. Now, what can I get for the both of you?"

Dorian was the son of the esteemed son of Dorian Sr. The owner of Adarlan Vaults, the most extensive banking chain across Erilea. It was a total accident that they stumbled into each other when Aelin went in looking for a loan to start The Stag with.

At first, he was a bit of a flirt with her. When Aelin made it clear that she wasn't interested in his advances, Dorian backed off right away and fell into the role of the supportive friend. He and Chaol had been the first patrons of the shop when the doors opened.

Chaol was technically his hired protection, but he and Dorain were life long friends bound by something more powerful than money. She never saw the two of them apart. While he appeared to be a quiet sort, he had a sharp mind and fierce loyalty that Aelin admired.

"Two iced girl scout americano's," Dorian pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. "Large, please."

Aelin accepted the cash and started filling cups as the two took their standard seats. She just got the espresso machine heated when a set of hands pushed her's aside and began flipping the switches for her.

"Aedion," she groaned as his hip bumped her to the side, and he took over her tasks. "Seriously?"

"You are supposed to be taking the day off," he looks at her pointedly. "Go sit with your friends. I've got this."

"Do you have this?" Aelin set a hand on her hip. "You haven't used these machines before."

Aedion scoffed, "It cannot be that complicated. Now go. Before Lysandra comes back down and wipes the floor with both of our asses." He pulls out two large mugs and grabs out a bottle of coconut flavoring. "Baby A is shielding you for now, but that woman has the memory of a rutting elephant. Don't think you can hide behind my niece or nephew forever." He's more talking to himself by the end as he starts over pouring syrups into cups. Did he even know what he was making? Aelin winced.

She might have to return the twenty to Dorian.

Aelin walks away reluctantly, "Mind if I sit here for a minute, boys?"

Chaol stands up and pulls a chair out for her, "Not at all."

He holds out a hand to help her sit, but she waves it away. She wasn't that pregnant yet.

Dorian has a hardbound book sitting in front of him, the face of his expensive watch catching the light as he turns the page. "I haven't seen you by the bank this week," he says without looking up from the page.

"We've been enjoying the peace," Chaol sits back in his own seat and flashes her a grin. "That's a joke, of course. It's been horribly boring."

"It's been a busy week. I haven't had a chance to drop my deposit off yet." Aelin typically made an excuse to visit the bank at least once a week. Dorian would kindly excuse whatever teller was working to take a break and promptly close the register so they could sit in the break room and talk over cookies and drip coffee.

She was planning on going yesterday, but her feathers were too ruffled after the incident.

"I suppose I can live without that excuse since I've taken it upon myself to visit you at work." He pulls a plastic bag filled with assorted chocolates and places it on the table between them. "If you need to drop off a deposit, I can take it back with me?"

Aelin's hand darts to the bag of sweets and pulls out a dark, salty square. "Have I mentioned you are the most attractive man I've ever met?"

They hear a loud scoff from the kitchen.

"You've mentioned it a few times." He glances up from his book long enough to wink at her. "What about that deposit?"

"I don't think I will have a big enough deposit to warrant the trip this week," the excuse isn't well-formed, and she hears it when the lie falls from her lips.

"You said you had a busy week?" Dorian frowns.

I did, but I'm putting aside extra money to fund my cousin's gang because my former foster father has a hit out on me.

"The tips have been bad" not a total lie. "Maybe it will pick up again over the weekend," Aelin shrugs nonchalantly.

Aedion walks over with two cups of coffee and a mug of tea. He lets Dorian's drink slosh over the side as he sets it down. Dorian lifts his book away from the mess and glares.

She wasn't sure what went down between Dorian and Aedion that made them hate each other. Chaol and Aedion had no qualms. They were even drinking buddies on the weekend, but Aedion had a bone to pick with Dorian long before she'd arrived back in Orynth.

Aelin half-heartedly scolded Aedion as she accepted her drink. Taking a deep drink from the mug, she was surprised to find that it was made exactly as she liked.

Chaol sipped his coffee, and Aelin watched as he barely held back a grimace. Dorian reached for his own cup, but Chaol discretely pulled it away before he could drink. Aelin caught the motion, but thankfully Aedion was already back in the kitchen and hadn't noticed.

"I will remake those for you before you leave," Aelin assured them.

"It's alright. As much as I love coffee, I really came by to spill tea," Dorian took his glasses off and leaned back in his chair.

"Gossip," Chaol translated. "He means gossip."

Dorian rolls his eyes, "That's what tea means, Chaol." Leaning forward with his elbows on the table, "A company called Wendlyn Ops. bought out The Pits."

"What?" Aelin shouts a little too loudly. Dorian shushes her, and Aedion peers out from the kitchen with worried eyes. She waves him away and whispers in a quieter tone. "What do you mean The Pits have been bought out? What for?"

"I didn't realize you would care this much about the seediest bar in town," Dorian laughed. "It's not like you can drink."

"You aren't drinking, right?" Chaol scowls.

Aelin reins back her emotions. She was definitely losing her tack being off the job for several months, but the secret basement underneath The Pits was where the fights were usually held. Iona Jayne would never sell the property when it brought in so much money.

He either owed someone a rutting ton of money, he was being blackmailed, or the most likely option.

Iona Jayne was dead.

Aelin flipped Chaol off, "Of course I'm not drinking. No promises on that in about five months... Just, who would want The Pits? Are they repurposing it?" She can already feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

"That's the interesting part," Chaol murmured. "The title for The Pits was transferred to a new owner just a few days before it was sold for triple its market value."

Dorian's grin became mischievous, "Shady deals are going on, and I'm determined to find out what."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Aelin forced a matching smile on her, "Well, this sounds like the making of an adventure."

Aedion was deeply involved with all the goings-on at The Pits. If Dorian managed to learn too much and expose them, he would go down hard. She wasn't directly implicated in anything beyond a little racketeering, but one prolonged look at her record would raise some eyebrows. Which could tie her back to Rifthold and numerous murders. A lot of murder. Thievery. Hired assassinations.

They would be screwed, essentially.

Damn it all to hellas, she needed to talk to Aedion. Aelin understood why Dorian was interested in this. His father was involved with so many corrupt dealings they followed him like a shadow. She knew he was socially isolated beyond herself and Chaol. No one dared to associate with the son of Dorian Sr.

Unveiling a corrupt business dealing and aiding the community could help separate his image from his father's. Rectify some of the wrongs his family has committed. Give him a chance at making a future for himself out from Dorian Sr.'s thumb.

Aelin just wished he knew the depth of the task he was taking. How deep, dark, and dangerous this viper's den was. Sweet, sheltered Dorian Jr. would be eaten alive. A blue-eyed pup, trapped in the jaws of an adder.

Little did he know that Aelin was a wolf herself, and she would not stand for that breaking.

Aelin directed the conversation to safer grounds following the bomb he dropped. They discussed the book he was reading, the litter of pups his dog was expecting, his disgusting little brother. Chaol seemed to sour at the mention of Holland.

Soon they were provided with fresh drinks, and Aelin ushered them out under the pretense of needing a nap. Definitely not a lie. Her stomach was rolling again, and that blooming headache was now a whole damn rosebush in her brain.

Rubbing the knot between her eyes, she made the difficult decision of closing for the day. Business was slow. Lysandra hadn't come back downstairs. Aelin wasn't feeling well, and there was no chance she was letting Aedion use her precious machines again.

Aelin looked outside the window. It was grey and dreary outside. Perfect conditions for the three of them to order pizza, rent a movie and just put this day behind them.

"Aedion, I'm closing up." She didn't hear a reply. Aelin shrugged it off. He'd probably gone back up to sit with Lysandra.

She opened a can of coffee grounds and inhaled wistfully. What she wouldn't give for a cup of straight caffeine. With one last longing sniff, Aelin refilled canisters for tomorrow and got to cleaning up the machines.

All that was left was to close up the registers.

She'd just unlocked the drawer when the ring of the shop bells went off.

"Sorry, we're closed," Aelin said without looking away from the task at hand. She would have to remember to lock the doors first next time.

Heavy boots thudded against her wooden floors as whoever it was approached the counter. Her irritation peeked. What was with the influx of entitled assholes lately?

"We are close-" Aelin's stopped and her eyes narrowed at the gun barrel aimed at the center of her forehead.

I’m figuring out how the tagging list thing works- ☺️

If you would like me to add or take your name off the list for future updates let me know~

@thisismylibrary

@highladywhitethrone

@bee55

@royalsqueeze

@rowaelin-cressworth

@sjmships

#aelinandrowan #poorlysandra #sexyapronaedion #aelinneedsadamnnap #coffeeshopau #fanfic #suspenseintensifies

105 notes · View notes

mommymooze · 3 years

Text

Anxious Restraint

Sylvain x reader

Warning: war, death, destruction, sad families, blood, injuries

Its a beautiful day during Great Tree Moon. Your nose is filled with the mixed scents of the flowers that are blooming everywhere, their petals catch in the winds and scatter across the cobblestones. You are strolling quietly through the pathways of the school having just left one of your classes and heading to your next when you are suddenly joined by a fellow student, interrupting your thoughts about the upcoming battle.

Apparently, you have caught the eye of the school’s skirt-chaser, the notorious Sylvain Gautier. “Hey beautiful, how are you doing today?” He smoothly slithers up to your side, brushing his elbow up against yours.

“I’m fine, Sylvain” you respond listlessly, wishing this conversation was already over.

With his ‘every girl wants a piece of a guy who smiles like this’ look plastered on his face, he continues, “Want to grab some dinner with me today? Such a beautiful day would be even better if we shared a little time together, eh?”

Eyes straight ahead, you keep walking as if he’s not even there. “No thanks, I have to work on my magic and I was going to practice after grabbing a bite in the dining hall.”

“What about tomorrow?” He pushes.

“Tomorrow I have a test.” You just want him to stop. Mother taught you not to be rude, but he is testing every bit of your patience.

“And the next day?” He sounds desperate.

“Working with Felix on my sword skills. And improving my Pegasus riding so I can be a dark flier. I really have to get going.” Your voice getting louder as you run at top speed to anywhere before you lose your temper.

Sylvain is left in the dust, again. You’re in the same class as he is. You haven’t known him long, but Ingrid fills you in on his life history of philandering. Classes keep everyone busy. You have to study fairly hard, but you are rewarded with great grades. Sylvain is smart, but doesn’t apply himself, he tells you he shouldn’t have to bother to be the best because no matter what, his dad’s just going to make him take his place someday. Seems like every time you see him he has a different girl hanging off his arm. He still asks you out once or twice a month. More out of a force of habit than anything else.

Time flies by with unusual problems happening quite frequently at the monastery. The Church sends the students out to fight their battles for them on a regular basis. Classes are taught, battles are won, then suddenly war is declared. The battle of Garreg Mach leaves everyone numb. You head home to find it is gone, the whole village burnt to the ground. Everyone you knew is gone, you’re unsure as to who lived and who died. You become part of a mercenary group, continuing to fight and develop your skills and battle techniques. Your group will take any job that will take down Empire soldiers or people allied with them. Yuri hires your group a few times. Most of your jobs are in the Kingdom and Alliance territories.

Five years pass and you find yourself back at Garreg Mach, wondering if your friends will be there for the reunion planned so long ago. You are completely shocked when Byleth appears, fighting alongside a battleworn and feral Dimitri.

Once the battle ends the Blue Lions light up the stove in the kitchen, salvage what they can and cook up food that doesn’t quite go together but gets something in their stomachs for the night. Sitting around a table in the dining hall they each tell their stories of what they have been doing the past five years. Most of them protected their territories, saving their people. Byleth was sleeping, Dimitri is absent, everyone draws their own conclusions on what his time was spent on.

Sylvain finds you alone one afternoon sitting on a bench after having spent the entire day organizing and cleaning the library. “So you became a mercenary? You could have come to Gautier or even Fraldarius. Felix and I would have helped you. You didn’t have to be alone.” He said, sounding sad.

“I guess I needed to find myself after everything I knew was gone. I felt like I had to crawl my way up from the bottom. I refused to give up. I hadn’t planned on being a mercenary. I knew I wanted to keep fighting, keep working to be stronger, needing to make a difference for the right cause. Waking up every day knowing that I would work to improve the lives of the people, sure it didn’t win any major battles. But it made a difference to them. I gave them hope. Stealing supply wagons from the Empire and taking them to those that were starving or had no way to protect themselves kept me moving forward all of this time. I may have lost all of my things, but I gained a true purpose.

The next few days are filled with finding places to sleep, hunting and gathering food, repairing rooms and critical buildings, and greeting others that have returned such as Seteth and Flayn with the Knights of Seiros. You work with Byleth, offering to train anyone in reason magic.

Sylvain comes to your classes. You notice that he behaves himself, having grown up somewhat, and actually studies and gains better control of his magic. He finds you in the training grounds late one night, working with the new recruits and decides to lend a hand, helping them with their incantations, manipulation of runes or simply being encouraging.

Finally, the last student leaves. You wave as you grab your tomes and notes. Sylvain takes a seat on a nearby bench.

“You have your spellcasting mastered. I can really see the improvement since we were students.” Sylvain genuinely smiles.

You have a look of shock on your face. That has to be the sincerest compliment he has ever given you. “Um…thanks.” You weakly smile.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He says waving as he turns.

You stumble after him quickly. “Sylvain, thank you very much for helping me tonight. If you hadn’t, I could have been here until morning. That was really sweet.”

He flashes a grin at you and heads out the door. You are confused. The Sylvain you remembered from before the war was always flirting and shirking work. Now he’s helping with working and training. He actually volunteers. Maybe he really is growing up.

Battles come and battles go. Being the eye in the sky, you are always watching out for your friends. After surviving for this many years of war, it would be heart wrenching to lose any of them now. You throw a Thoron into a group of archers that are terrorizing Felix. You guide Ingrid to help Ashe when someone is sneaking up on him. Always, always you have one eye on Sylvain, making sure he doesn’t get himself surrounded or run through on an enemy’s lance. The fights are all the same, only the names of the places change and the numbers of scars on everyone ever increases.

Reclaiming the Capital is a painful battle. Everyone’s heart breaks seeing the city in such ruin. The people are hiding from the soldiers on both sides. Titanus running amok cutting down everything in their paths. You fly quickly, attacking the Empire from the air, then leading innocent citizens to safety and hauling the wounded back to the rear of the lines to get healed. Fire and smoke is everywhere. Your Pegasus is breathing hard and needs a break. You leave it with the other beasts not currently in the fight and run in on foot to see where you can assist. You scurry back to where you had seen the heaviest fighting just in time to see the last Titanus fall with a thundering crash. Dimitri, Dedue, Felix and Sylvain are dashing towards Cornelia. As soon as you are in range you hit her two closest archers with Swarm-z, slowing them down as well as injuring them. Felix and Sylvain defeat the enemies quickly. Dedue and Dimitri are facing Cornelia. Angered by your magic, she casts Luna Λ at you. Normally you have a fairly high magic resistance, however this is a dark magic spell that doesn’t care what your resistance is, it’s going to hit and hit hard. Your last thoughts before you lose consciousness is that your friends can finish this easily and you are glad you’re on the ground and not falling off your Pegasus.

Waking up on a hard cot in the makeshift infirmary of the palace you hear the sounds of people walking softly and whispering all around. You mentally take inventory, wiggling toes and twitching fingers. Opening your eyes you have to blink a few times before you can finally get them to focus. At first you only see oranges and blacks, then you can focus a bit and see Sylvain and Annette standing at the foot of your cot. You see her point your direction and he turns to face you. He was frowning but when your eyes meet his, his face relaxes.

Kneeling down at the head of your bed he says softly, “Hey, welcome back. Think you can take a drink for me?” pulling a waterskin to your lips and lifting your head a bit, helping you take a few sips.

The water is cool and feels amazing on your parched throat. “Mmmm. Thanks.” You whisper as you smile up at him.

“Let’s see. What did you miss? After Cornelia hit you with that spell, she was easily taken down by Dimitri and Dedue. The fighting was over soon after that, we just had to take out a few pockets of enemy soldiers here and there. As you can tell we took over the royal palace. The people rallied outside and demanded Dimitri to present himself to them. They’re accepting him as king and happy to have him back. Your Pegasus is in the royal stables, Ingrid was able to coax her in there. I had no idea she hates men so much, I almost lost my right hand, gauntlet and all.” Sylvain chuckles softly.

“Sorry. She was probably mad at me for leaving her in the first place. Glad I did.” You take another drink, the fog in your head lifting a little more.

Sylvain looks up at Annette, who is getting some bandages together for another patient. “Do you think she’ll be able to make it to the party tonight?”

“If she behaves. She’ll have to take it easy.” The shorter redhead points at you. “No dancing the night away.”

The cavalier pats your shoulder, “It’s nothing big, just the Lions hanging out together, to relax a minute before the next battle. Gotta take a break sometime, right?”

“I will try to make it. I haven’t even tried to sit up yet.” You mumble.

“When you’re ready we’ll sit you up. If you want to eat we’ll get you some food.” He begins, “After you’ve settled a bit we’ll try to get you walking around and show you to a room so you can clean up and change. I’ll come by before the party and help you get there if you want to go. Sometimes these corridors can all look alike. Wouldn’t want you spending half the night trying to find your way there.”

“Sitting up sounds like a good start.” You propose, knowing that magical wounds take time you recall. There’s only so much healing magic and potions they can pour into you. You weren’t sliced open and didn’t lose blood. Mostly once you wake up, you could go about your business, just treading a bit more carefully.

The cavalier is tall and agile, stepping over a few empty cots with his long legs he grabs a wooden chair and sits it down at the head of your bed. Before you can start to turn to stand up, he picks you up and gently places you seated in the chair.

“Wow.” You gasp. “Um..thanks.” a tinge of red warms across your cheeks.

“I grabbed one with arms so if you’re still tired you would have something to lean on. Are you feeling alright so far?” He has the tiniest upturn to the corners of his mouth.

He looks adorable, you think to yourself. Wait. Sylvain. Adorable? Um…hey brain, are you going to answer him? “My head is a bit fuzzy.”

“I’ll check on you in a while, in time for lunch, ok?” the redhead says as he pats your hand while he walks past and leaves.

You sit looking around the room. Soldiers mixed with citizens. A woman with her baby is holding hands with a man that looks like he was badly burned. You can see the strength and determination in her face, she is being strong for him. A young boy sitting by the cot of an older man that is sleeping. The clerics are checking bandages, stopping to talk to every patient and giving them words of encouragement. The physical fighting here has ended, now everyone is gathering themselves together, healing, and getting ready to rebuild and make a better world.

You start moving yourself, getting your blood flowing and stretching, kicking your feet for a while then holding them up in the air. Soon you feel brave enough to try to stand up. Putting your feet on the ground you use the chair to help you stand on your own feet. You don’t feel like falling over, no affects so far except for some anxiety. You spy a chair 15 feet away and decide to go the distance. Your first few steps are taken gingerly, but you gain a bit of confidence and make it the last few steps fine. Sitting down your legs gave a bit so you came down a bit hard, but it felt good to move. Now you realize that you are in a simple gown and socks. Not exactly the best clothes for heading out of here, hopefully someone will be by soon to tell you what to do next. After taking a careful stroll back to your original chair, you spy Annette coming down the row of cots, checking on patients. You take a sip of water and wait for your turn.

“How’s your head? Any signs of a headache? Any pain anywhere?” Her bright and cheery smile always makes you smile back at her.

“I feel pretty good. Whoever worked on me did an amazing job. I just have a tiny headache. I’ve even been taking a few steps back and forth between the chairs here. So what should I do next?”

Annette reaches under your cot for a small bundle. ”We have a change of clothes and boots for you.” She shows you to the bathroom to change. You nod happily, “I would love to get real clothes on. It gives you the mental kick like you’re getting back to normal.”

“You have a great attitude! I’ll bet you’re fine in no time.” The redhead bubbles, walking with you to the powder room.

Clothes changed, washing your face and hands, you feel like a gold bullion. No mirrors in here, probably so the recovering wounded are not shocked about how they look after battle and keep concentrating on healing. You feel much more confident walking back to the chair by your cot. Observing the healers running around, you feel quite useless and guilty for not being able to help them. Before you spiral too far into a frustrating mindset, Sylvain arrives.

“Look at you, all ready to go!” He smiles. “They said if I take it easy with you, we can get you to the dining hall. Ready to give it a go?” He stands next to your chair, his elbow ready for you to grab it for support if needed.

“Sounds wonderful.” You stand up and place your hand on his forearm letting him lead you out of the infirmary.

The first few times he spies a bench he checks if you want to rest or keep going. The continued movement is a little tiring, but also feels really good getting your heart pumping. Once you really begin to feel tired you are already at the dining hall. Felix, Ingrid and Ashe already at the table with their food.

“Welcome back!” Ingrid smiles, waving with a roll in her hand. Felix does his usual nod in your general direction. Ashe waves excitedly as he tries to chew whatever he has in his mouth faster.

“Great to see you!” Ashe begins, switching to recalling his view of the end of the battle. “I saw Cornelia hit you with that spell, it was so scary. You were taking out her archers protecting her and then Bam! This ball of black and purple hit you and you go down. Dimitri and Dedue took her out and when Felix and Sylvain finished her other archers they put you on Sylvain’s horse and he took you straight back to the healers.”

Sylvain returns to the table with a tray full of food. “So I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for, so I brought a few things. Doesn’t matter because whatever you don’t eat, Ingrid will finish for you.”

“Hey!” Ingrid puts her hands on her hips, pouting for a second. Then she changes her mind. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

You decide the soup and a soft roll may be a good place to start. Everyone chats about things that happened in the fight, trying to concentrate on good things that happened such as saving a child or protecting a merchant.

“Oh Ingrid! Thank you for taking care of my Pegasus and getting her stabled.” You happily pat her hand in thanks.

“It was nothing. She was being feisty and knucklehead over there tried to grab her reins and she didn’t take to it too kindly.” Ingrid grinned at the cavalier. “they are not the same as horses!”

The redhead puts his hands up, “I get it! I get it!”

Lunch ends and before you get a chance Sylvain grabs everyone’s dishes and piles them on his tray to take back.

You raise an eyebrow at Ingrid, she shrugs her shoulders. Felix and Ashe are already out the door talking about some training they are interested in. Ingrid says she will check on your Pegasus and let you know this evening how things are. You assure her you’re going to try to make the gathering tonight.

Sylvain returns, placing his arm at the ready, you grab on and as he escorts you, talking about his history here, having grown up frequently visiting the palace, how he would chase Ingrid, Dimitri and Felix down the halls until they would get in trouble and their amazing snowball fights in the courtyards. He leads you down the corridor to your room. Annette and Mercedes are staying in the room next to yours.

“Who am I bunked up with?” You wonder.

“Nobody. This is all for you. The room is huge with a sitting area, a grand fireplace, a huge bed with multiple fluffy pillows and a bathroom with bathtub big enough to swim in. You spy your bags set on tables next to the dressers.

“I am so confused.” You don’t realize you are speaking out loud. “Why this special treatment? I’m just like everyone else. I don’t understand?”

“Remember when we were up against Cornelia?” Sylvain explains. “The person she looked at, the one she needed to stop first wasn’t Dimitri, wasn’t Dedue, it was you. You’re the most powerful mage we have. Sure, Annette is pretty amazing, but she can’t do the damage you do. Cornelia saw it. I know you can dance circles around me. You’re pretty terrifying. We’re thrilled to have you on our side.”

You’re absolutely flabbergasted. You never compare yourself to anyone else. You go out, do your job. You feel a blush to your cheeks even though you find this hard to believe.

The redhead continues, “Then there’s the fact that you do this while flying on your Pegasus. We’ve seen you do maneuvers on that animal that shock Ingrid. You make some seriously fast dives, then stop. The wind force from its wings is stronger than some of Annette’s spells. I’ve seen enemy archers rolling over backwards from it.”

You could be knocked over by a Pegasus feather. You’re just a regular person in the army and he’s put you up on a pedestal…wait. This is Sylvain you’re thinking about. But it’s not his usual flirting escapades. Where is that flirtatious attitude anyway? You have spent a lot of time with him today and walked past plenty of pretty ladies, but you can’t recall his saying hello or paying a compliment to any of them.

“I think I should get a nap.” You say, not sure if you’re overwhelmed or tired or both.

“I’ll let you rest then. I’ll be back for you to get you to the party in plenty of time. See you in a few hours!” Sylvain smiles widely as he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You sneak over to the door, hearing his footsteps going off into the distance. You peek out to watch him head down the long hallway. You watch him walk past a few female fellow soldiers without a hitch in his step. He comes to the end of the hallway where a cute maid is dusting a portrait and he just keeps going, not even giving the maid a sideways glance. Who is this guy and what have they done with Sylvain? You’re not sure, but you need to find out.

You decide a bath then a nap may clear your head. There are wonderful smelling soaps with flowers imbedded in them and something that smells fresh and relaxing for your hair. Cleansed and warm, it is definitely nap time. You comb your hair out, braiding it a bit and surround yourself by the fluffy pillows. You are asleep as soon as your head hits the pillows.

Several hours later you wake up, glad to see it’s not dark outside yet. You dress in a soft blue tunic and black slacks with your boots. You let your braids loose so your hair can dry. You head next door to visit Annette and Mercedes.

“Knock, knock, anyone home?” You chuckle.

“Hey! Come in!” Annette’s bubbly voice calls back. You enter, hmm, their room is much smaller than yours. You frown.

“Merci’s in the bath right now. Do you feel well enough to join us tonight?” Annette is looking at two outfits she has laid out on the bed, trying to decide which dress to wear.

“I’m about ready. I need to fix my hair a bit, that’s all.” You pause. “Annie, if I ask you some questions will you answer me honestly?”

“Pssshhh. Of course. We have no secrets.” The blue eyed woman smiles from ear to ear.

You want to ask her the right way, not fishing for compliments, because you don’t want that. “So. I’m just one of the many mages in the army, right? I’m no different than any other Pegasus rider. Just a regular old normal person.”

“Well…” Annette scrunches her eyebrows and puts her finger to her chin. “For Faith magic, nobody can beat Merci. Reason magic I’m pretty good, but you’re better than me, and Byleth too. You’re the only one that can cast Dark magic. Byleth does call on you frequently to do some very tough jobs, being out on the front lines where normally mages are not.”

“You can be quite scary!” Laughs Mercedes as she emerges from the bath in a short tunic and her slips. “A bolt of darkness coming down like a demon on the dark wings of your steed.”

“I guess I’m just confused by Sylvain. Did Byleth tell him to watch over me or something?” You look so flustered.

Mercie puts her hand over her mouth to hide a giggle.

“You should have seen him when he saw Cornelia hit you with her spell!” Annette is leaning so far forward off the bed she’s going to fall over any minute. “You fell over and he tried to run over there. Felix nearly pulled his arm out of his socket. He had to stay and finish the archers. Sylvain insisted on getting you back to the healer’s tent as fast as possible.”

“Why am I in a big room at the end of the hall all by myself? Shouldn’t I be bunked with someone?” You are grasping at anything trying to make sense of today.

“That could be from me.” Mercedes advises. “I did tell Dimitri that you need peace and quiet, healing from a magic injury is impeded by stress like loud noises or bad roommates.”

You shake your head a bit. Maybe you’re just tired and after a good night’s sleep you’ll be better in the morning. You remind yourself not to stay up too late at the party.

The three of you chat a bit, getting into gossip and girl talk. Dimitri and Byleth have been getting closer now that he has been feeling much better. You elbow the red-headed mage sitting next to you on the bed, teasing her about a certain dedicated swordsman. She refuses to admit if they have kissed yet, but by the redness on her cheeks, there is something going on there for sure. Mercedes admits to having a few cooking dates with Dedue. He is showing her how to make some dishes. She’s always felt comfortable baking desserts but not cooking main courses and side dishes.

The two ladies corner you asking if you have your heart set on anyone. Sheepishly you have to shrug your shoulders. You haven’t had time to do much beyond teaching the new mages and their battalions, being sent on a few covert missions, and working with the Pegasus knights training, working the stables and working out with your own steed. You see Ingrid the most of the group, frequently Dorothea would be hanging out nearby waiting for her.

Suddenly you notice the time and need to get back to your room to finish getting ready. You wave goodbye and will see them in a little while. There is a lovely vanity with an adjustable mirror. You take a seat and decide to braid your hair in one of the more intricate braids like Petra had shown you in recent months. Tying it with a white ribbon you leave it on your right shoulder. Dusting your cheeks with a light rouge and dabbing your lips with a bit of color you’re done. This has probably been the closest you’ve been to being dressed up since the war started.

A knock on the door brings your attention back from staring at your face in the mirror. You walk quickly to the door to find Sylvain there, smiling brightly.

“You look…like you are feeling much better. Did you get to rest?” he asks.

“I feel great, I’m sure tomorrow I will feel even better.” You smile as he steps back to let you exit the room and he closes the door behind you. You grab the crook of his elbow like you had done earlier and he leads you to the parlor where the gathering is taking place.

“It is great to just hang out together for once. It has been exhausting.” Sylvain announces.

“War takes so much out of you. We have come so far, just a little bit more.” You sigh wistfully.

“The end is in sight.” The tall redhead says quietly. After a pause, he asks, “So have you thought about what you’re going to do after the war?”

“I don’t know.” You slow your pace, trying to gather your thoughts as you walk. “I’ve been so busy with the war, its hard to think about it being over. There is still going to be a million things that have to be done. Setting up government, rebuilding, trying to get everyone to work together. The work never ends.”

“Well, let’s not think about all that work for tonight.” He says as he pauses outside the room. “Let’s relax for just a bit before it all starts over again tomorrow.”

Inside the parlor is a large table with many chairs. Tables loaded with foods, fruits, savory treats and desserts. A large circle of comfortable chairs, couches, loveseats and settees with small tables scattered between them is the right, a few seats already occupied by Dedue, Dimitri, Byleth and Ingrid.

Everyone stands and greets you as you enter. You hug them all, so happy to be back together with everyone. Sylvain holds his hands out hopefully.

“Of course, you didn’t get one yet either.” You smile as you place your arms around him for his hug as well. He smells good. He hugs back ever so gently, his touch is feather light.

Byleth returns to the settee that she is sharing with Dimitri and asks you to sit next to her. You take a spot on the loveseat and chat with her about what happened during the battle from her point of view and she shares how proud she is of everyone. The rest of the Blue Lions filter into the room. Sylvain hands you a glass of water with lemon slices in it then walks over to talk to Felix who has found the spicy meatballs.

Once everyone has a drink in hand, Dimitri offers a toast thanking them all for their help in taking back the Kingdom capital. Plaudits of the attendees fill the room.

The conversations are lively. Ashe sits next to you for a while, talking about some new books he has ordered and offers to let you read them after he is finished. Annette also sits next to you for a while, talking about all of the different and delicious desserts. You prefer the peach tart, however you agree that the strawberry cheesecake is simply divine. The redhead then joins Felix on the couch on the other side of the room. Sylvain stands between you and Byleth, talking about differences in armor quality and comparing different blacksmiths. You invite him to ‘take a load off’ has he likes to say to others, as you move to let him sit next to Byleth and you sit on the other side of the seat, patting the loveseat for him to sit himself. He nods and smiles as he takes a seat and continues his conversation with the former Professor. Mercedes bustles through the room, taking your empty plate and another that Annette had left on the side table.

Sylvain finishes his conversation and looks out into the room. You tap him on the hand to get his attention.

“What have you been up to today?” You ask him.

“I had to work on repairs for my saddle, one of the cinching straps had become frayed. I don’t need it breaking and falling off in the middle of battle. I also had to make sure my horse is in great shape, trimmed her hooves and then took her out for a ride. I used to ride a lot out here with Dimitri. It was good to feel the wind through my hair, the sun on my back and simply ride just for the sake of riding.”

“That sounds delightful.” You think wistfully. “Just going for a ride to be riding. Can’t wait to be able to do that again.”

“Any time you are up for it I would be happy if you would like to join me.” Sylvain smiles.

You gently wrap your tiny hand around his much larger, calloused hand. “Sounds great.”

Another hour of chatting with your friends goes by until a yawn suddenly escapes your lips.

Sylvain immediately notices. “Looks like you have had enough fun for today. I should take you back, okay?”

“Mmmm. I agree. Mercedes will tie me to a cot if I don’t rest.” You giggle

Mercedes laughs, “I have ways of making you sleep.” Her voice is much deeper, lower than normal as she squints her eyes menacingly. She wiggles her fingers in a creepy taunting manner at you, making you laugh even more. Sylvain stands and offers his elbow for you to take. Both of you bid goodnight to everyone as you head back out to the corridors of the palace. You are silent as you both walk back to your room. At the door he is preparing to take his leave.

Placing your hand on his shoulder you stop him from moving. “I would like to talk with you, that is, if you want to speak with me as well.”

He gives a slight smile and follows you into your room. You move to the sitting area. You take a seat on a soft cushioned char, he sits on an identical chair next to you.

“First, thank you so much for all of the help you have provided to me today. Bringing water, helping steady me in the hallways, and making certain I was not lost wandering the palace looking for the party.” You say this with all the sincerity you can muster, placing your left hand on your chest to show your heartfelt thanks.

“It was the least I could do. You have given of yourself over and over, it was wonderful being able to help you today.” A tinge of red covers his cheeks. “You really should get some rest.”

You really want to talk to him but he is right, you can barely keep your eyes open. He opens the door to leave, but you hold your arms out to give him a hug goodnight. He gently wraps his arms around yours as you press your cheek into his chest, exhaling with a sigh. You wave as he steps through the threshold and closes the door.

The early morning war council is held in one of the palace’s meeting rooms. Dimitri shares a message delivered to him earlier this morning. It is a plea for assistance from the alliance, Claude asks for help in Derdriu. Everyone agrees to make the detour to the city then head on towards Enbarr to finish the war.

Arriving at the coastal city, Claude has done an excellent job preparing the city for the fight with the Empire. The battle zone has been evacuated of the citizens and merchants. They only ones involved in the fighting are soldiers. The Kingdom’s army is motivated and strong, overtaking the Empire forces in record time.

There is a meeting between Dimitri, Byleth and Claude. Claude announces he is headed for his own future and wishes everyone well.

The Kingdom marches for Enbarr. The final battle in the war. Edelgard does nothing to prepare the citizens, they flee in the streets as the fight rages around them. The fight is long and bloody. There is no surrendering by Edelgard, she and Hubert fight until their last breath.

You volunteer to stay behind, but Ashe, Ingrid, Dorothea, Linhardt and Caspar remain to start the repairs and healing from the war. The rest return to the north. Sylvian and Felix return to their territories to check on everything and keep their lands going.

Back in the Kingdom capital, your days are filled with rebuilding, not just the buildings, but the mind and bodies of the citizens. You are always amongst the people, one day clearing rubble, the next helping in the orphanages, another day watching a mother’s children so she could take care of business. You explain you are doing this for king and country. If there is anyone to thank, it is Dimitri.

Soon everyone is gathered here again, this time for Dimitri’s coronation. The ceremony is long. Byleth being the archbishop has the honor of placing the crown upon the king. There are so many speeches and the lords of every territory must approach the king and promise their allegiance.

A grand ball celebrating the coronation is held in the evening. King Dimitri is seated at the head table, next to Archbishop Byleth. Felix is next to Dimitri as his chief advisor, Dedue next to him as his Vassal. Ashe and Ingrid are knights, standing guard behind them. They insisted on working, reveling in the honor of being among the first to protect the newly crowned King.

You sit with Annette, Mercedes, Dorothea, Caspar, Linhardt and Sylvain. The conversation is never ending, you haven’t seen several of them for months, so everyone has to catch up. Mercedes and Dedue are engaged. Annette and Felix are officially a couple, as well as Caspar and Linhardt. You have been busy helping restore the school of sorcery. They have been begging you to become a teacher, you are still considering your options.

The orchestra on the opposite side of the ballroom begins to play. The king and archbishop take the floor, starting the dancing for the remaining couples. Sylvain had been seated next to Dorothea and they spoke quietly with each other several times during dinner. You would look up and smile at him and he would always return the gesture.

After the first song ends, it was time for the rest of the couples to dance. You are shocked when he stands and walks over to you, asking you to dance with him. He takes your hand and leads you to the floor. The first few minutes you smile at each other. Then you hear him sigh. You catch his eyes and he smiles at you.

“I’ve missed you.” Sylvain whispers softly in your ear.

“I was hoping you lived close enough that you could come visit here more frequently. Maps can be quite deceiving.” You frown briefly, “How are things in Gautier?”

Sylvain seems to stiffen a bit. “My father is going to step down, leaving me to take his place.”

You try not to frown, “Is that what you want to do?”

He hesitates as the song is ending and he asks you to step outside with him. You stroll through the gardens together, the smell of moist earth and roses fills the air. You stop far enough away that the brightness of the party no longer blocks the light of the stars on this perfectly clear night.

He seats you on a bench, taking a the spot next to you. He leans back and looks up at the stars.

You can’t look away from his face, so you simply watch him watching the twinkling in the skies.

He gently takes your hand in his. “I never wanted to take my father’s place. I never wanted to be like him or like he wanted me to be. I was always such a rebel. I wanted to ruin the world around me, pay it back for all the pain that I had been through. There was nothing that I was looking forward to, being forced to fit in the mold that my father made for me. When they had announced that Dimitri would be executed it made my father physically ill. The kingdom had fallen that day to him. He had no hope left. He stopped pushing me to get married. He couldn’t arrange anything, not knowing who would come out victorious. He didn’t know if he would be keeping his position or would the Empire trample him into the ground. He stopped leaning on me that I would have to be the next margrave, not having any idea how long he was to be the current one. I no longer had anything to defy, to rebel against. I pulled back. I had to learn how to take care of myself properly. Then we came back for the reunion. I had been feeling sorry for myself, then I found out you had lost everything. I saw how strong you had become. Even though you had nothing you had such passion to help everyone else to be better. It was so beautiful. I had never seen anything so beautiful. It wasn’t just a smile, a pretty face, it was radiating from so deep within you. I wanted to be near you, that’s why I had offered to help you, just to be near you. I knew I wasn’t worthy of you. But if I helped you at least I could be close to you. When Cornelia hurt you, I went mad. I thought you were dead. Felix brought me back, telling me we had to finish what you started. I wanted to talk to you after you were recovering, but then we were pulled into Derdriu and went to Enbarr right after that. And then I had to go back to Gautier. After the war, when I went back I thought my father would lord over me, make me continue to do everything his way. But he’s become tired. My parents are going to move to the coast to spend the rest of their days. Managing Gautier is left to me to handle as I see fit. I’ve been working on reaching out to the Sreng, to see if we can find peace between us. Everyone is so tired of the fighting. I know I am. Maybe I could be the Margrave, but I can’t do it alone. I’d like you to help me, teach me to be a good leader, to do right by my people. I would do anything and everything for you.”

You squeeze his hand. “At the reunion I noticed a big change in you. I wanted to talk to you about it but the war never let us have five minutes to ourselves. I noticed you were behaving differently. I wanted so badly to talk to you after we won back the capital, but the war jumped between us again. Maybe the only way I can have an opportunity to speak with you for any length of time would be to go to Gautier with you.” You grin at him.

“I really don’t deserve you.” He puts his arm around you for a half hug. “I know you are so good with the people. Everyone here loves you.” He rests his cheek on the top of your head.

You’re beginning to become flustered. At the moment you miss the old flirty Sylvain. He’s acting..shy? Inviting you to Gautier sounded like a business transaction more than inviting a woman over. “Are you seeing anyone right now? Have you decided what you want to do for yourself?” you ask.

“Uh. No. I haven’t really thought about it for a long time. Its like once the pressure was off from my father, I just didn’t need to do that anymore. But yeah, I want to get married to a woman that I love, maybe have children, and shower them with as much love as I can muster. Make peace with the Sreng. Make the people of Gautier happy too. What about you? Are you seeing anyone? What do you want?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to get married and have children. Now that the war is over that certainly is a possibility.” You begin. “And you know I like to help people, help them help themselves. I am seriously considering a job offer that I feel I am qualified for. I’m thrilled to find that someone I have been interested in for quite a while is currently single. So things are looking pretty good.” You look up at his face smiling.

Sylvain looks down at you smiling, but unsure.

Your hands slide up his chest, going around his neck and you pull him down toward you, finally he gets the idea and bends down to kiss you gently.

“That took you forever.” You gasp smiling up at him.

“I thought I had already missed my chance. I thought at least if I could be near you that would be fine.” He smiles, kissing you again.

“Ever since I saw you at the reunion, I could tell you were different in the best sort of way. You weren’t hiding behind a mask, you were acting like yourself. As long as you be your true self with me, I will always want to be near you.” You hold Sylvain tightly under the stars.

*****Epilogue

The wedding is the following spring. Both of you frequently travel all about Gautier territory, constantly talking with the people and responding to their needs. You find some people that speak Sreng and learn the language and culture well enough to be able to parlay and work towards a peace agreement. You give up some of the Gautier lands that the Sreng say are important to them. In turn they pay for this property with many rare minerals and jewels that are from their lands. You use this money to improve the roads and lives for the people of Gautier. Sylvain does spoil you rotten. You have at least 8 children and have no idea if any has a crest, not that you care. The Lance of Ruin is given to Byleth to do whatever she wants with the horrid weapon.

#fe3h x reader #fe3h #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe16 #sylvain jose gautier #my stories #sylvain x reader

46 notes · View notes

ghosttotheparty · 3 years

Text

the secret of red sea glass

AO3 The train is always louder than Lucas expects, even if he expects the most.

It’s even louder when he rests his head on the cold glass of the window, his head bumping with the rhythmic rattling and thumping as the train speeds past fields and fields, and villages and villages, and skies and skies. They change colour as he watches. After watching the cottage-covered cliffsides and the stretches of sand and crashing waves of his home pass by, he watches vibrant colours pass, more vibrant, more bright than his home in the South.

There are green and pinks, purples and yellows, flower-covered cottages, trees, shrubs, gardens, fields of flowers in the East. Lucas has only been a few times, painting some of the rich, stuffy old families that can afford mansions. And their portraits to be painted. He’d be lying if he said he did his absolute best on all of them. But he supposes he doesn’t really have to do his best on all of them. There aren’t many people who paint sit-in portraits and the few others who do cost more than Lucas, who’s willing to take any amount of money he can. He smiles at the flowers because no one is in the cabin to see him, remembering the flowers he stole for his mother. He’d presented them in a messy, crumpled, dishevelled bouquet, after having stuffed them in his jacket to hide them. He’d had to wear the jacket until he arrived at the train station in the South, and he’d already been sweating and miserable hat point, but it was worth it to see her face light up. He knew she’d suspected him of having stolen them, but she still placed them carefully in a vase on the kitchen table proudly, until the petals had all fallen around the glass. Lucas kept some of the petals and crushed them into flakes, which he keeps in the locket he wears around his neck. His mother still has a collection of flowers, now dead and faded, but still beautiful in her eyes.

After a while (he doesn’t know how long; there isn’t a clock and he’s never been able to afford a working watch), the brightness of the East changes to darker, richer reds and oranges that blur until the landscape looks like a sunset under the sky in the West. Though Lucas likes the exuberance of the East, he can also appreciate the more toned-down colours. They remind him of his mother’s hair, a rich, dark brown that shines red under the sunlight. Lucas likes when she goes with him to the beach, rare as it may be, and lets her hair loose. It flows in the wind like waves, glistening and sparkling like the water under the sun. (Everything he sees seems to make him think of her.)

He would paint it all if he could.

He clutches his bag to his chest, resting his chin on the softness of where he’s stuffed his clothes, and sighs, letting his eyes drift shut.

---

When he wakes up, it’s dark. And cold.

The window feels like a sheet of ice, and it hurts to pull his head away.

It’s too dark to see much, except flashes of white in the shadows of night, as the light of the train windows speed past mounds of snow. He pulls his bag closer, wishing he had a blanket or a quilt, and moves closer to the window, suddenly awake. He’s never seen snow before. He’s never had the opportunity, never had anybody in the North hire him to paint them.

Of course, until someone recommended him to the king.

Thinking of it still makes his stomach swoop, still makes a shiver go down his spine.

The king.

He’s going to paint the king.

And his family, of course, though Lucas doesn’t know how many people are in it.

The queen, he supposes.

He knows they have a daughter, an ambassador of some sort to foreign nations. He thinks he has other children, but nobody really knows. Safety reasons, he assumes. Maybe he’ll have to take an oath before he leaves. An I-swear-not-to-tell-anyone-about-your-children-whom-I’m-painting oath.

If there are others, he assumes they’ve never left the North. Lucas can’t imagine. Though, to be fair, he can’t really imagine living in the North full stop. It’s common knowledge that everyone here is rich, richer than Lucas could ever hope to be. (Part of him is glad; he doubts anyone at his status could survive this weather. He shivers just looking out the window, though it’s cosy enough inside the train.)

The snow outside looks like it’s glowing. Lucas can’t even see the ground outside, or the gravel under the train tracks. If there are hills and mountains and trees, Lucas will have to wait until the morning to see them. If the morning ever comes. He glances around the compartment, forgetting about the lack of clocks, and sighs, wondering what time it is. After drifting in and out of sleep, seeing the world in a way he’s only seen in paintings, time feels like it’s fluid, like it’s flowing and rushing, and Lucas has lost track. It could be midnight or it could be six am.

He supposes it doesn’t matter, though, when he arrives at the castle. Or rather, the time of day is definitely not the most important thing going on his mind.

The fucking castle.

Lucas stops thinking when he sees it outside the train window, snowflakes falling like flashes of white light, the castle looking like it’s glowing, like the light from the sky is being stored inside.

It’s the biggest building Lucas has ever seen, bigger than the mansions and manors Lucas paints in. He doesn’t know what he was expecting if he’s honest, but a part of him is saying Yeah, that makes sense.

Another part of him in angry. Angry that these people (because that’s all they are: other living, breathing humans just like Lucas and the others) are living in a home with more rooms that they can use, more space than they can take up, more food than they can eat, more air than they can breathe, and Lucas has friends who skip breakfast because they save food for dinner. One of Lucas’s shirts is a hand-me-down from his friend’s dad.

But he stares in awe, forgetting his anger. A few of the windows glow gold against the white, like the insides of it are on fire.

Lucas exhales, a slow Woah that fogs up the window, and he quickly rubs the glass with his arm, watching as the castle comes closer, becomes clearer. He briefly wonders how he would go about painting it. It would need lots of blues.

It’s not until he’s making his way down the halls, following two posh-looking men who are carrying his bags, that it really sets in that he’s staying here. Not for long, of course, just for a week or two to finish the portraits, but it’s still somehow absurd to him.

The men lead him to a bedroom at the end of a long hallway. They go in first, struggling and stumbling through a slightly-too-narrow doorway with his bulky bags, and he hangs back, watching worriedly and uncomfortably for a second before looking away.

There’s a corner just outside the room, leading to an open stairwell. It looks dark, and a little dustier than the golden, glowing parts of the palace Lucas has seen. He glances up, and in the shadows and nighttime it looks endless, like it leads into a void. Lucas wants to go exploring.

But his name is called by one of the men (he can’t tell which), and he goes back.

The room is dark, except for the faint streaks of light coming in from the window, gold reflections off the snow outside, but Lucas can see well enough to glance around. It’s small in regards to the rest of the building, and dingy, neglected and ignored. It’s still the size of Lucas’s living room.

His lips purse in that same frustrated expression, and he takes a deep breath. It smells old.

“You’ll be called for tomorrow,” one of the men says, and Lucas turns around. He still can’t tell which one said it.

“Okay,” he says.

The men nod and leave.

Lucas sighs again, and he’s almost sure the slight disturbance blows up dust that’s settled on the crackly wood floor. He finds a candle on the desk (which rocks when he touches it; one of the legs is shorter than the rest) and lights it with a pack of matches laying next to it.

Even with the snowlight and candlelight it’s still dim, but it’s bright enough for Lucas to navigate around the room. The floor creaks under his weight, and it’s almost eerie in the desolate silence of the hall. He wonders what the other rooms down the hall are for. More guest rooms? They must not have guests very often based on the maintenance.

He unpacks, carefully setting an easel against a chest at the door of his bed. He doesn’t put anything in the chest, deciding to set his suitcase on top of it, open and resting against the wall. The tubes of paint go on the desk, sorted by colour, and he sharpens the pencils, gathering the shavings into a little pile on the desk when he can’t find a bin.

He changes into his sleep clothes, setting his clothing in his suitcase after folding them neatly and blowing out the candle. When he lays down in the bed, he realises how cold it is. And that there’s no fireplace. He falls asleep shivering.

#i SAID i have too many wips #and i have an extensive list of things to draw #also wtwe is still in progress i promise #im too passionate about it to give it up #i dont have an update schedule at all tho be warned #i might update next week and i might update in a month #well find out when we find out #anyway remember to drink water and eat st yummy #and stretch your wrists and neck and take any meds you have #i love you xx #wtfock #skam nl #wtfock fanfic #skam nl fanfic #vds #van der stoffels #jens stoffels #lucas vdh #lucas van der heijden

7 notes · View notes

ricinbach · 3 years

Text

honor him. | chapter 3 - ready or not

an Empress is killed and a new era of constant guilt dawns upon you.

Gray tiles over the rooftops contrasted the clear blue beauty of the Dunwall skies on the 18th of the Month of Earth. The uneven skyline decorated with the light smoke rising from the numerous chimneys scattered around the peaks.

The Tower stood tall and pristine, overlooking the gloomy city. White blocks of stone reflecting the sunlight, light blue drapes, embellished with the Kaldwin family crest, swaying ever so slightly to the beautiful dance of the wind. Flowers flourishing across the vast gardens of the Tower, the waves of the river licking at the edges of the walls.

It was an unusually beautiful day to be a royal. Years back, when you were fighting off stragglers and gang members in the streets of Karnaca, even dreaming about being this close to royalty had been out of question. You never had time for such useless fantasies when the reality had been proving to be nothing less than ruthless and cold.

It was quite ironic - in contrast to the deeds your kin would commit, it was as if the Outsider had cursed you with sunshine and warmth to make you never forget the moments to come.

Commotion. A deafening, sickening sound of machinery turning in its cogs and screws, digging into your skull like daggers. Screams, thick boots thudding against the wooden floors, making the entire ground shake. Your younger feet descending the carpet-covered stairs of your apartment rapidly, heart about to burst out of your chest. The usual faint whale songs you would otherwise gladly welcome in your mind then subdued by the creaking music echoing through the narrow foyer - to be replaced with the cries of the one you loved the most.

Every single little detail about that night was still alive and burning in your mind, just like how the events of the present day would hurt your conscience for years to come. There you stood, up on the rooftops of the tower, leaning against one of the chimneys which concealed your red-leather clad figure, the higher up vantage point giving you an unobstructed view of the gazebo.

So far, everything had been going according to the assault plan Daud had spent a couple of months perfecting - couple Whalers holding up the smaller edge closer to where the target stood, with Daud waiting alongside them for an easier transversal. The remaining Whalers all positions up on the roofs, blending into the navy blue tiles, some setting up lookouts on top of the water lock, and you staying on the lookout on the furthest end of the to ensure a safe escape route. There was no room for error, not even a single breath could be taken out of order.

This was the mission that would change the Whalers, affect every single living piece of soul of the Empire and the blood would soon be all over your hands. Every one of your fellow assassins felt it inside - felt the balances and the energies shift in haste of what’s to come, some sort of dark hunch in all of their souls, yet no one could put it into words nor admit it.

Many of those who noticed you merely guarding the furthest tower away from the gazebo, very much unlike the key roles you had in past contracts, did not dare confront you or Daud about it - they simply knew better than to be scolded by the master assassin to focus on the mission of their lives. Nothing escaped the sight nor the quick wit of Billie Lurk though, you remembered, as she appeared right near you, causing you to shift your position to face her.

“What’d you do this time to make him mad?” she would ask in a tone you could not discern beneath the muffling of the vapor mask, combined with the ringing in your head with the added stress of the mission.

That had caught you by slight surprise - although you were used to Lurk’s teasing intrusions and insights just about everything as you would train together and plan out how to approach missions, you had been silently hoping every Whaler to be so preoccupied about the job at hand as they should have been, that they would not pay attention to one assassin’s uncharacteristic task. You would only shrug at her, tilting your head slightly and letting out a muffled breath. “Just following the old man’s orders.”

If only she knew. If only she knew the resolve it took for you not to crumble right there and then, how hard it had been for you to sound emotionless and nonchalant.

She would change towards you, talk different and act different, you did not have a single doubt about that. Maybe she would look at you with pity, or she would remove all her trust from you for being such a weak soul unable to get anything done because you were so caught up in your memories.

Either way, revealing the truth was something you could not afford.

The seasoned assassin shrugged with a simple mumble of “fair enough”. Billie knew better not to dive into personal details during high-risk missions, or during anything else - she had been an enigma of her own, ever since Daud had brought her in. You did not mind.

Her, you could look at. You could even sneak glances at the Empress’s silhouette with her famous up-do, her hands against the marble fences of the gazebo as she gazed over her city, unaware of her approaching demise. Hiram Burrows, the sick man behind this litany, talking to her with his hands clasped behind his back, with his crooked face and sneering attitude that spoke of no rainbows and sunshine.

But your covered orbs beneath the mask would not dare sneak a glance towards your master, who stood rigid as ever in his position minus the mask he adorned usually. He did not dare look at you either - after all, you had been two souls who knew this was wrong, so wrong, this entire mission was all sorts of wrong and it must, under any circumstance, be stoppe-

The loud thuds of the water lock bringing in a skiff echoed across the walls all of a sudden.

The hairs on your neck rose in response to the sheer suspense - according to the plan, no guests were expected to the Tower in the morning. The damn water-lock was supposed to be sealed towards any outside traffic from the river. That bastard Burrows himself had assured you no one would intervene when you landed on the gazebo after he was done briefing the Empress. Besides a few corrupt guards and maids, no other key staff to royalty was supposed to be on the premises.

Billie’s alarmed stance found yours, no doubt having the same racing thoughts in her mind as you, whereas the stress of the unknown pawn in your mission made you finally manage to look at Daud. His jaw was clenched as he shook his head at you, sensing your gaze on him, his gloved hand held upwards in a closed fist as he signaled his small army to stand by till someone could identify who was coming. You could feel the nerves of the fellow assassins tightening - it was vital everything went according to the plan, word by word, minute by minute on a mission as impossible as this. The Whalers could not afford any last-minute unknowns into the equation, not this time.

“Corvo! You’re back!” you hear the young girl exclaim in the happiest cute little voice you have ever heard as she ran towards the tall figure waiting to take her in his open arms.

No. No, no, no.

He was not supposed to be here till the 20th. The Royal Protector being away was the main guarantee Daud had made sure when he was taking up the mission. This was not supposed to happen.

When this was all done, if you survived, you would give your heart and soul to the Outsider just to stab one of your sharpest blades into that crooked, scrawny throat of Burrows, for omitting this piece of information that changed everything.

If there had been anyone who deserved to die that day, it would have been that sniveling bastard. But no, he just had to hire you to do his dirty work for him and his forsaken conspiracy. You knew one thing - he would not omit the supposed presence of Corvo unless he had something to gain from it.

Just how he planned to use him in the grand scheme of things was still a mystery to you, one that made your blood go cold.

Transversing closer to the edge of the roof with a clearer view of the lower tower entrance, something inside you was on the verge of breaking as you saw the Lord Protector hug little Emily, the child inviting him towards the back gardens for a quick game of hide and seek.

Innocent and pure, the total opposite of the acts you would commit later on. Of the world the little girl would be thrown into after her mother has died - a world of corruption, hatred, fright and cruelty.

Just like the one you had been thrown into without a choice, all those years ago.

Jaw-clenched, you walked with a certain quick determination towards the chimney Lurk was still holed up near, overlooking the strike point yet her mask was focused on you. The way you approached with a certain rigidness and unease now even more evident in your movements and they certainly did not get unnoticed by the assassin. Your fists clenched as you held onto the tiles, crouching. Waiting, as well as you could, with your heart beating out of your chest.

Just how many lives would be ruined that day? At that point, you had lost all hope in counting. How many would be stabbed and how much blood would be spilled all over the crisp white marble? Souls left to perish, so one more rich bastard with less than honorable motives could rise to the throne and throw the entire Empire to dust?

The clock was ticking against your favor. The Lord Protector could already be seen making his way towards the gazebo, the little girl trailing just a couple steps in front. The crooked bastard Burrows lingering to exchange some words with him before he reached the Empress.

All of these thoughts, these truthful yet dangerous ramblings in your mind making your ears ring, shots of adrenaline and some sort of determination started to coax through your veins. Something needed to be done, someone needed to stop this right then and there, before Daud sent the first wave of assassins in. Only the Outsider knew what would happen next if you did not intervene - after all, you personally could confirm no one was a match to Corvo in a duel, if the years hadn’t changed him.

You needed to reach Daud and get him to call this entire thing off. Fast.

Suddenly, you caved into your morality as your hand lifted up, engulfed in darkness, and your body lunged forward quickly - only to be stopped by a forceful wind blasting you back, as you tumbled backwards with a muffled gasp escaping your mouth. The blast muting your fall as the sheer power in your hands ceased. Under the skies of Dunwall, the intimidating mask of Lurk was standing over you, shadows lurking around her gloved hand directed towards your frame.

“This is meant to be. This one, you cannot change, Lieutenant,” she spoke, crouching to your level. The sickening clangs of swords mixed in with screams as your chest heaved with breaths. Daud had sent his first wave in.

“We can only watch.”

So you did.

Each second passing adding another flame to the frustrated fire burning inside you, you got up with a quiet snarl, leaning against the stones with your sights set towards the gazebo.

You could only watch when Daud slapped the Empress before wrapping his hands around her throat.

You could only watch as she fought him helplessly before the assassin put his blade through her weakened body.

You could only watch when Thomas grabbed the poor little Lady, with the Lord Protector disheveled and damaged on the floor. And you could only watch as Billie gave the signal to head back to base.

It killed you.

It killed you to your core, made your bones go stone cold, your heart break into a million pieces into the Void. The droplets of royal blood leaking on the floors from Daud’s blade felt as if it had been your own blood spilled. It hurt as such.

It was the Void’s parting gift to you that your master ordered to travel back to base before you could witness the corrupted bastards hold the helpless Royal Protector accountable as the one person he had sworn to protect died in his arms.

#breaking point #ooooh #hope you guys like this #more to come #val writes #writing #my works #fanfic #dishonored #dishonored 2 #emily kaldwin #corvo attano #daud #whalers #corvo attano x reader #corvo attano / reader #corvo attano x you

10 notes · View notes

minsyal · 5 years

Text

Headcanons for the boys s/o appearing to be a delicate lil flower but actually being filled with knives

Request: How would the boys feel about an s/o who’s some royal’s personal servant and looks delicate, but can actually take on monster camps with ease?

Revali

Revali will completely lowkey expect it

It happened as you were assisting the Princess as she made royal arrangements with the elder in the village. You trailed behind her, hands folded politely over your abdomen, staring blankly forward at the back of Link’s shoes. Honestly, you were excited. Until recently, your relationship with the Rito Champion had been kept a secret. One slip up and Zelda had caught you two sneaking around the grounds.

The elder was politely speaking in hushed tones to the princess as Link stood to the rear of the room beside you. Revali had positioned himself near the princess but was paying them no mind. He was focused on you. His entertainment was not coming from the conversation, but instead the pink tinge that slowly crept its way to your cheeks.

“You’re different around the Princess, you know?” Revali would comment once the Princess had retired for the night and was safely guarded in the Inn.

It wasn’t rare for you to meet with him after dark. After all, that’s how the two of you met.

Revali particularly took enjoyment in the different side of you he saw when you partook in your nightly “workout.” At first it worried him, he didn’t quite believe that you could handle the camp yourself. Once he realized your abilities, he was absolutely starstruck. It was love at first sight (but he wouldn’t admit that.)

“I knew you were far more than you seem.” He’d comment as you strolled back to the village.

“No you didn’t.” You scoffed, throwing your knife back into its holster before strapping it back in place. “You thought I was ‘delicate.”

“Hmm.” He pondered for a moment. “No, I knew.”

“Whatever, bird boy.” Your servants dress easily slipped over your head as the smooth fabric cascaded from your shoulders to your hips.

Revali smirked, he was most certainly sure that he knew all along.

Sidon

Sidon could absolutely not believe it

It was absolutely baffling when Sidon found out his father had hired a Hylian to act as a Zora royal servant. He initially found you to be so incredibly adorable. He loved the way you followed him around always ensuring he had what he needed and retrieving things when he asked.

What he didn’t expect was your ability to completely eradicate a camp of monsters that had decided the Zora River was a great place to set up shop.

The two of you were making rounds on one of the nicer days. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the rushing water was providing a calming ambiance to your stroll. You liked Sidon, more so than many at the Domain believed. Surely there were people who saw through your ruse. Questioning eyes and harsh glares became a normal thing from the “Sidon Fan Club” that stood 20 feet away from him at all times, giggling insanely when he’d so much as glance in their direction.

The two of you interlaced your fingers as he trudged forward.

A horn sounded, interrupting your tranquil moment. Three lizalfos stood upon newly-constructed scaffolding near an old abandoned camp. The electricity emanating from their arrows was apparent and the quiver in Sidon’s touch didn’t go unnoticed.

Without question, you sprung into action. Within minutes, the camp had been destroyed. Sidon stood there, wielding his rapier.

“Oh.” The small word escaped his lips as he slashed it twice and put it away. “That was... unexpected.”

“In a good way?” You wiped your hand down your face.

“In a very good way!” A squeak escaped your lips as you were hoisted into the air. Sidon’s hands were placed firmly upon your hips as he swung you around. “That was astounding! Truly phenomenal!”

“But dear, please never do that again.”

Link

Link is like “wow that made me really nervous but I’m so happy to have this information now!”

Traveling outside of Hateno was practically unheard of for those who had lived there forever. Travelers often brought what the village needed and what they didn’t bring was grown. So for you, a Hateno native, to be coming and going from the village was truly a feat to behold. People were cautious here, they didn’t step out of any lines and always stuck to the path. It was rather boring after a whole lifetime.

When Link arrived in the village he completely stirred everything up. The shop was seeing great profits, Bolson and Co was making bank, and the village children were telling tales that the mysterious knight brought along with him. That’s one of the things that drew you to him.

He had partially expected it. He knew you weren’t one to stay at home selling the latest harvest of rice or wheat. You wanted to see Hyrule for everything it had to offer. You wanted to meet the Gerudo women, the Zoras, the Rito, and Gorons. Link was your ticket out, and you gladly took it.

The first time you came across a monster camp with Link, he had instinctively crouched behind a boulder and pulled you down with him. A single finger pressed up against his lips as he motioned for you to stay quiet. Another pointed at your current position, telling you to stay put. You, though, had different plans.

With a smirk on your face, you nodded innocently. As Link crept away, sword drawn, you did also. As he neared the first scaffolding where a particularly ugly bokoblin stood guard, you sprung into action. Within minutes, the entire camp was deserted; there wasn’t a single evil soul left in sight.

You smiled at Link who had remained where he was, dumbfounded.

After that, Link never asked you to stay back. After all, even if he did, he knew you wouldn’t listen.

Teba

Omg he has a wife wtf ya’ll

Hitting on a married man?

You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Kass

He’s also a married man

You want to split up his marriage?

Shameful!

Daruk

He’s honestly so proud and also so worried

Because you’re so small compared to him! and he could have easily done it himself! But he’s so proud that you’re super strong and independent!

Death Mountain was particularly hot today. The lava wasn’t quite spilling over, but it sure felt like it was. There was an odd feeling in the air. It had grown considerably thicker overnight as if something amiss was brewing.

Daruk was up to his usual business. He had messed around the city all morning and was now rolling around the mountain searching for any straggling monsters left over from yesterday’s attack. You had perched yourself atop a peak, vaguely able to make out the smoke cloud as he disrupted the dirt below. You were, as he said, “My eyes in the skies.” He had insisted you had more in common with the Rito, who could swiftly fly to the highest points in Hyrule, than the Gorons who spent all of their time on the ground.

Your eyes trailed him as he traveled to the east, but there was a clear disturbance to the west. A large dust cloud was collecting near one of the hot springs, the sight of nearly fifteen monsters as they marched toward the city was apparent.

Without a second of doubt, you drew your glider and headed off. The land turned to open air as you drifted downward toward the crowd of foes. They stood no chance! There was no way Daruk would make it to the crowd in time, so alerting him would have to be put on the back burner.

The bokoblins stood absolutely no chance to your archery skills. Several arrows later, the entire gang was gone - diminished to ash.

Another puff of dust had you spinning on your toes only to come face to face with a worried and wide-eyed Daruk.

“What’re ya doing?” He said slowly, eyes darting from the beasts to you. “I saw ya flying down here and... well... figured ya we’r in trouble.” An, uncharacteristic, small laugh escaped his lips as he knelt down. “But I guess ya handled it yerself’ pretty well! I didn’t know you were so handy with a bow!”

“Ta’ think! You’ve got a lot of strength in that tiny body of yours!”

1K notes · View notes

fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

Fate/Still Night Pt 3 (Hakuno, Cu Chulainn)

Previously: 1, 2

She awakened to a knock at the door.

Hakuno stared up at her ceiling, the lightened color of the impending dawn streaking across the ceiling and the fan gently circulating the dust and stale air around the studio. Her eyes went to the front door, debating on whether or not she even wanted to consider getting up.

It was tempting not to.

She wasn’t having any desire to see anyone today.

Alas, it was a school morning.

Avoiding trouble would only last until the moment that she had to leave. Then she would be trapped listening to the person on the other side of the door hound her for not answering when she was clearly home.

Please don’t be the landlord.

Her stress and memory medicine cost enough. She was barely going to make rent and it was going to be a couple days passed the due date.

Pulling on her longer stockings, Hakuno moved closer to the door, peeking through the peephole.

Emptiness met her gaze.

Another set of knocks came.

“…Hello?”

“Hakuno, are you going to let me in or make me wait out here in the hallway?”

Damn.

Unlocking the door, there was little choice but to let the guy back in. Everything had indeed been real. She had really hoped he would end up- Well, it probably was bad to wish that she wouldn’t have to get involved in the war.

“Thanks, Master.” The man walked through the door, hair tied up in a messy bun. His attire had changed to some slacks and a bright, obnoxious green and yellow atrocity, splashed on with large red hibiscus flowers as he held up a few bags and looked her over.

“I was resting.”

“You look like ya keeled over the moment I left.” Cu presses a hand to her forehead.

“Your hand is burning.”

“Ah, naturally warm. I watched a woman do this and figured it’d work for me too.”

“I’m not actually sick.”

“Well- I was just checking to see. Go sit down. I have some bandages for you.”

Hakuno sighs, moving to the bed and stretching her legs out. It doesn’t take more than a minute for the other to follow, taking off his shoes and leaving them by the door. He checks the door before coming over, setting the bags in his hands down and looking over the bloodied bandages.

“Damn, master.”

“It’s fine.”

“This isn’t fine,” The man pulls at the flimsy coverings, throwing the soiled things onto her nightstand before picking up a kit. “I’m going to glue this shut and then cover it in wrappings so that it heals nicely. You might end up with a faint scar, but it’ll be better a scar than death.”

Better yet, she could always just not fight.

“I grabbed some food while I was out,” Cu tells her, wiping at the wound on her leg and pulling out the tube of super glue. He’s pressing the wound together, slowly working a couple centimeters at a time. “I got more than enough to share for now. The shop looked down a worker so I worked the night shift and came back at dawn.”

“You got hired like that?”

“Sometimes we all need help.”

Hakuno watches his hand moving along the wound, continuing to close the wound.

“I said I’d do another shift tonight, but I’m going to make sure you’re safely tucked away in here before I do. I figure it’s probably good to get a solid base around here. Learned a lot about this world by sitting in on a shift and doing some work.”

“Is that smart? You could be attacked.”

“I’m not worried. Who attacks a pedestrian like that?” Cu waves a hand before testing the seal he’s basically made. “This is going to hold so long as I put the wrappings on it now. You feelin’ a little lightheaded?”

“A little.”

The man pulled an apple out, carefully using a napkin to hand the thing to her.

“Thanks.”

“That’s what servants do,” Cu replied. “How’s your food supplies?”

“I have an apple.”

The man glanced up at her.

“I get paid on Monday.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“I’m almost there then.”

“Shit,” Cu shook his head, giving her a look before opening his bag. “Eat the rest of what I brought. You need the energy and I don’t have to eat. Just figured I’d bring shit back because the store insisted. I’ll bring stuff tomorrow morning after my shift too.”

“I need to get to school-“

“Out of the question.”

Hakuno stared at him, frowning.

“You’re injured and fatigued. You’d be easy pickings.”

“I’m not fighting, I’m learning.”

“Oh yeah?”

Hakuno nodded.

“Then if you get this question right, I’ll let you go.”

“Bring it.”

She could handle one question. At least this was a decent negotiation between master and servant. The fact that he’d brought food was heavensent as well. She’d needed something to last her besides stale bread and a thing of water.

“Where did I say I worked?”

“A store.”

“What was the store’s name?”

Hakuno stared at him.

The man smiled.

“…I don’t remember.”

“Then no dice.” The man finished putting the wrappings on her leg and helped fix her stockings back into place. “Lay down, pull up the blankets, and stay in bed today. I’ll let you drink your juice and eat your apple while I look around and decide what to make of this world.”

She didn’t care for the plan, but…

Had he mentioned the store name?

Maybe she needed to rest more than she’d thought.

#drabble #drabbles

12 notes · View notes

schleierkauz · 4 years

Text

The Color of Revenge: Chapter 10

Surprise! :3

For some reason (I have to assume as a birthday gift, for me, specifically,-) two chapters were uploaded last friday! Sooo here’s the second one! Enjoy!!

Shoutouts go to @bluejayfiredancer and their art textbook and @firejugglinghobo who both make my life much easier by Speaking English

Chapter 10: Death has the Color of Ash

The last book the Great Balbulus worked on had been commissioned by Violante of Ombra for her 32nd birthday. It was meant to celebrate the natural wonders of Ombra in words and vision. The nymphs in the river, the fire-elves in the nearby woods, the giants in the mountains that could be seen from the highest tower of the castle when the weather was clear, and the unicorns in the holly oak groves east of Ombra.

The writers had delivered the pages with the finished text to Balbulus the evening prior. He was, as always, less than thrilled with the ink quality and the arrangement of words, but he had given up on trying to convince Violante to hire new writers. She would just give him the same answer over and over again:

“Balbulus, these men have families to feed.“

So what? Did that excuse that they might be tainting his posthumous fame with carelessly placed letters and ink that was too pale? Art didn’t care about a few hungry brats. Great art demanded sacrifices to be made!

He used a few color pigments that were left over from the other book.

The other book…

He was glad that the filthy troubadour with the sly smile would take it away soon. Ombra was filled with dark rumors and lamentations. The Bluejay had disappeared, alongside his family. And it wasn’t just him. Where was the Inkweaver? Where was the bookworm woman Loredan? Where was the beautiful Roxane?

It was said that the Fire-Dancer had gone all the way to the White Women to ask about her.

He would not find her.

Balbulus hurried to take his brush off the parchment. His fingers were shaking. He thought he could hear them all from between the pages since the book had come back from the new bookbinder, who really couldn’t compare to the Bluejay.

Finished books were always sent to Balbulus first, in case he needed to make any last corrections. But this one? To hell with it! He had wrapped it in a brocade bag and put it in the chest where he kept used parchment and his linseed oil.

When the screaming in the streets had started, he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of opening it and looking at the faces of those who had disappeared. How they had looked at him… Thanks to his mastery it seemed as if they were breathing on the pages, and maybe they were. Anything was possible when it came to magic.

With shaking hands he had pushed the book back into the bag and wrapped it tightly before putting it in the chest again. It was made of oak wood and the lid was so heavy that he could barely open it. But still, he thought he could hear them screaming between the cover, between the pages of parchment he had trapped them on.

What had he done?

Stop it! You practiced your art, Balbulus! That’s it!

He clenched his fist to stop his fingers from shaking. Dusk was beginning to fall outside and the troubadour, if that unsavory character deserved to be called that, would take the book and everyone trapped within it away. Yes.

Forget it and focus on the work, Balbulus.

How could he have known that he would be made into a tool for such demonic magic? He dipped the brush into the silver which he used to make the nymph’s scales glow. They lived in the river which flowed through Ombra and Violante loved to watch them from the castle’s crenellations. There were rumors that she regularly left them cakes and grapes at the river bank because she believed that the nymphs brought good luck to the city.

Superstition!

Balbulus cleaned the brush and dipped it into the dark green he had mixed for the nymph’s hair. He painted a wisp of hair, floating on the water. Exquisite! Yes. No one could match his brushstroke.

Balbulus looked up and out of the window. Outside, the day was dying.

… Maybe he should throw the bewitched paints away. He stood and stepped to the shelf where he had put the glasses in which he had filled them. They really were one of a kind. He had never seen such brilliancy before. No.

No, he would keep them and use them for Violante’s birthday book. It would spread the word of Balbulus’ mastery all the way to Venetia. No, he had to think bigger – people would talk about him in Lutici, in Nuremberg, Metachirta, yes, even in Constantinople, where the great Bihzad was illuminating the sultan’s manuscripts so wonderfully that they allegedly spawned golden camels and birds of paradise.

So what? The pictures painted by the Great Balbulus would make the world with all its wonders pale in comparison and everyone who looked upon them would yearn to get lost in his landscapes. The blue of the sky would seem washed out compared to his own. His red would put the most beautiful rose in Violante’s garden to shame and his yellow would outshine the sun.

With a smile, Balbulus stepped back to his desk.

Magnificent Balbulus. Glorious Balbulus. Immortal Balbulus.

He reached for his finest brush and painted another strand of nymph hair onto the water when a noise made him flinch. Cursing, he dropped the brush and looked at the ruined page. How many times did he have to tell those idiot servants that no one was allowed to step into his workshop unannounced? He had even put up a sign which threatened to throw any unauthorized visitors into the dungeon.

“I will ask Violante to withhold your p-“

The words died on Balbulus‘ lips. The troubadour stood in the door. He pulled it closed behind him and gave the illuminator an oily smile. Balbulus always saw the color black when he was face to face with Baldassare. A worrying association. Black, and a poison-green yellow. Yes, those were the colors he would choose to portray Baldassare Renaldesci.

“I was visiting one of Violante’s maids. She would do anything for my verses, the stupid little thing, so I thought, Baldassare, do Balbulus a favor and go fetch the book now. He’s probably in his workshop.”

His dull eyes looked at Balbulus‘ possessions as if he were estimating which would be easiest to sell to Ombra’s fences. Baldassare Rendaldesci’s eyes were always dull, whether it was due to wine or elf dust, Balbulus couldn’t have said. He didn’t know much about the intoxicants that were popular in Ombra. His art was the only drug he was addicted to.

When he turned his back to his visitor, Baldassare locked the door to the workshop. The latch was slightly rusty but Balbulus was struggling to open the lid of the chest and didn’t hear anything.

“Here it is,“ he said, reaching for the bag with the book. Once again Balbulus thought he could hear the prisoners whisper inside. If only he had listened. Maybe they were whispering “Watch out!” or “Don’t turn your back to him, Balbulus!“

“This Walter von Vogelweide,“ he said with his glum voice for which he was just as known as for his art, “does he have a famous library?”

“I have no clue,“ Baldassare answered. “He’s not really the one who commissioned this book.”

Balbulus thought that was a very mysterious answer, but Baldassare didn’t give him time to solve the mystery. He plunged the dagger into Balbulus’ chest as soon as the other man turned around. Right into his heart, just deep enough that it stopped beating without spilling too much blood. Orpheus surely wouldn’t have liked splatters on the book.

Oh yes, Baldassare was a master as well, though not of the art of rhyming like he would have wished to be. He had a lot more talent for murder. Destruction is so much easier to learn than the creation of beauty.

Balbulus slumped down with a surprised expression on his face. Surprise, pain and a hint of indignation that his talent was being snuffed out so soon. Baldassare pulled the bag with the book from his weakening fingers and admired the shimmering brocade. The bag alone was probably worth more than everything he owned.

Oh, the treasures he could earn if he sold the book in Venetia or Mantova instead of leaving it in Violante’s library like Orpheus had ordered… He leaned down and pulled Balbulus’ rings off his lifeless fingers.

No, it probably wasn’t a good idea to steal from Orpheus. After all, he was allied with a witch, a devourer of children if the rumors were true, but maybe he would get rid of his glass man. Even just the thought of carrying him on his shoulder for days and listening to his chatter all over again… Not to mention that he would probably tell Orpheus all sorts of unflattering things about him.

Oh, what a disaster, a raven picked him off my shoulder…

Of course, the Shard Head had wanted to come with him to the castle, but Baldassare had told him in great detail what the maid’s cat liked to do to glass men. Baldassare smiled as he imagined feeding Ironstone to a few hungry rats. The glassy flesh wasn’t very tasty, but apparently those pipsqueaks had a delicious core that even human gourmets valued greatly. In Ombra it was unfortunately illegal to sell glass men for that purpose, so… that treat had to wait.

Baldassare stepped closer to Balbulus‘ desk and looked around, wondering where the sticks were that had served the illuminator as references. He eventually found them in a big casket, alongside a bag of gold coins, silver cutlery and a necklace that Balbulus liked to wear during official events and distinctions. Baldassare took all of it, even though the payment for this murder had been much better than he was used to. He looked at the parchment which his victim had worked on.

Not bad, no. Not at all.

For a moment he regretted that he hadn’t given Balbulus time to finish the page. After all, his death would make his work even more valuable. Well… Nothing could be done about it now. Even a master couldn’t think of everything. Baldassare stepped over Balbulus’ cooling body, a bloody red flower blooming on its chest, and unlocked the door.

Violante’s library was empty when he snuck inside. The maid has assured him that her mistress spent only her mornings in there. Then he left the castle the same way he had gotten in: Through the courts and corridors used by servants and maids. The guards who saw him simply nodded and let him pass. He had spent many evenings entertaining them with his songs and some of them had bought elf dust of excellent quality from him.

Balbulus‘ corpse wasn’t discovered until the next morning.

(Next chapter)

20 notes · View notes

return-of-a-space-cowboy · 4 years

Text

I want to write this as a full story, this is based off of a weird dream I had

Lascia che ti porti in paradiso

You drove you car down the highway and couldn't help but wriggle around try not to reenact the dance from Napoleon dynamite as Canned heat played on the radio. You couldn't help but feel like the world was rooting for you, you had woken up two days ago to find out that you had been written down to be the soul inherentor of a stranger's fortune and estate.

At first you were reluctant on the offer, thinking there must have been some mistake or a scam but no it wasn't and it turned out the stranger had no living relatives and had picked out your name out of the thousands of others in the state rather then let the government take it.

You were now on your way to your new home with the few things you had from your apartment all packed in the back.

You had sold most of your furniture since your new mansion already had a ton.

You hummed as you tapped your hands on the steering wheel before seeing a man run out Infront of your car. You slammed your foot on the brake and closed your eyes, hoping you wouldn't hit him. Your car made a screeching halt and you opened you eyes and saw that the man had fazed through the front of your car. You were face to face with the ghost.

"Danm it you nearly made me a ghost myself! don't you know some of us living can see you!" You scolded.

"Sorry..." He replied.

"Trying to kill yourself isn't going to do anything... You need to fulfill your life task if you wanna move on" you explained to him before someone knocked on you window.

"Yes?" You asked the man outside as you winded down the window slightly.

"Why the fuck did you slam on the fucking brake! Nobody's in fucking front of you!" The man yelled as he hurled profanity after profanity at you.

"I'm sorry, I just had a bit of a panic attack..." You explained to the male before driving off again.

You had become accustom to the existence of ghosts, you had been able to see them for most of your life. You had especially grown use to it while living in that dodgy apartment since a lot of drug use and domestic abuse happened around that area. You could have become a psychic medium but really couldn't see yourself being one so you lived a life like everyone else.

You made a turn off the highway and drove through a few streets before stopping at a service station to refuel your car. In the store you paid the woman at the counter that had disinterest written all over her face before your phone ran. You quickly grabbed it out of your pocket as you made your way back to the car.

"Hello?" You answered to the phone.

"Oh hello miss (Y/n), I was wondering how long you'd be to the house?" The inheritance lawyer asked.

"Well I just got off of the highway, I'll probably be there in another hour..." You responded.

"Ok that's perfect, that'll give me time to drop my kids off at my mother's" he explained.

"Ok, I'll meet you at the house soon" you said.

"Bye"

You put your phone back in your pocket before opening your car door and grabbing out the mapbook and finding the right page.

"Ok so I'm on Charlotte Street now... so I'll have to go straight through Devondale then turn off at Rochester road then Tamala way til I reach Willow peaks" you said to yourself as you looked through the map before starting up the engine again.

🍁🍁🍁

You stopped your car at a pair of large gates that stood proudly Infront of your property. You hopped out the car and approached the gate and unlocked the the padlock that sealed it shut before hopping back in and driving up the long winding driveway where tall trees blocked out most of the sunlight til you reached a clearing. The three to four story mansion shadow loomed over the land where a beautiful garden grew with an abundance of colourful flowers. Roses, carnations, snapdragons, dianthus, gardenias, if you could name a flower it was most likely there. You parked you car outside the garage. You stepped out and the fragrance of the garden hit your nose like a surprisingly pleasant punch to the face. You admired the garden even more as you walked past the flowerbeds and inspected the flowers more closely. They were so well kept, surely the previous owner had hired gardeners to maintain it after they passed.

You walked around the back to see various fruit trees in bloom. Cherries, peaches, plums, apples, lemons and oranges. In the middle a old water fountain stood. As you approach you could make out the statute, a young man with long in robes and chains holding up a flower with it's roots intact. You stood on the edge of the fountain and looked at features of the worn statue that was made of a mixture gold and bronze or copper.

The man had long wavy hair with a curled fringe, plump lips, a young but well built body and eyes that seemed to see all despite being a statue. You then took note on all the lime and calcium that had built up on it as well as how full the metal was maybe you would go and grab some stuff tomorrow and give it a well needed clean.

"The estate is very impressive, isn't it?" A familiar voice asked.

You turned and saw the inheritance lawyer who was a few metres behind you.

"It's amazing, if the outside is this this good then I can only imagine how the inside must be" you replied.

"How can somebody keep a garden so perfect?" You asked.

"The previous owner told me that she hadn't worked on the garden for five years yet it had never overgrown" he explained.

"Did she know anything about this statute?" You asked, so curious to find how such beauty had been immortalized.

"No she didn't, it's been here since this place was first constucted in 1797" he explained.

"1797?!" You gasped.

"Yes, but of course it's had it's fair share of renovations, some to preserve it and others to extend it" he explained to you but your attention was soon diverted to one of the windowsills as a curtain was pulled aside and somebody peered through only to close it again.

"I'm excuse me but is anybody in the house already?" You asked as you looked back to the man.

"No there should be anyone else here, why do you ask?"

"I was just curious, that's all" you replied.

"You must be eager to see the inside" he chuckled as you both returned to the front and approached the front door. He grabbed out the keys to the house before unlocking the door and opening it.

You both walked in to see the massive entranceway. A high celling with a crystal chandelier hanging down, two sets of stairs on either side of the room, dark wallpaper and lavish rugs, painting decorating the walls. It was like what you'd see in the movies.

"This is amazing!" You gasped.

"Yep and you haven't even seen the 28 rooms" he said but before you could respond you saw somebody in plain sight run across the upstairs balcony.

"Did you just see that?" You asked as you pointed to where you saw them.

"No, I didn't see anything, are you sure your mind isn't playing tricks on you?"

"It's probably just me" you sighed before he lead you off to see all the rooms on the ground floor.

The kitchen was huge and so was the dinning room and entertaining area. You had your own laundry room, a study, two bathrooms and an atrium which led to the garden. You even had a basement / cellar. Then he brought you up to the second and third story where ten large bedrooms were placed, two of them being connected to large bathrooms with a nice black and gold colour scheme that screamed opulence. There were four more bathrooms for guests and then another study / entertaining area before you reached the attic which was the only place that wasn't clean. It was filled to the brim with boxes and spare furniture covered in cobwebs and dust. You had a quick look through all the furniture.

"I'll go down the the dinning room and get the paperwork ready for you to sign while you have a look around" he said as he left.

You took a step and accidentally tripped over a sheet, a framed portrait falling onto you in the process. You got into a sitting position and picked up the painting. It was of the same man depicted in the statue. His skin was fair, one of his eyes was a blueish green while the other was amberish, somewhere between brown and hazel. His long locks were a golden blonde, his arms were loosely wrapped around the neck of a young doe while a snake was loosely draped around his neck. The man's features seemed peaceful but he also seemed to radiate an aura of superiority.

The male must of had something to do with this household. The question thou was how?

#yandere x reader #yandere #jojo golden wind #jojos bizarre adventure #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere giorno #giorno x reader #giorno #jojo giorno #spacy works

44 notes · View notes

zach-the-fox · 4 years

Text

Furiends Episode 3: A Bad Idea

A new day has come, and the warthog sits with the cat at a small table in a small coffee shop by the name “Pawbucks.” Zach sits with them, along with his two housemates. Having settled for nearly a week while out looking for employment, he’s quite comfy with their company, and had shared them with his new friends. The five animals spend plenty of time together and today, are now are gathered at the coffee place.

Zach has gone up to wait on line to ask the barista for an application while Hatboy accompanies him, patiently standing to order a fancy mocha. The girls, however, are slouched in their chairs, and have their heads leaning against solid objects as flat-mouthed, half-eyed expressions occupy their faces.

“Ugh, I’m so bored!” Emmy exclaims. “What are we supposed to do? There’s nothing around here…”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” responds Carly. “Thought it would be a good idea to talk about art, but we constantly see each other’s posts on Furbook. Maybe we can go to the cartoon festival?”

“Actually, I’ve got an interesting idea.” Brook reaches into her bag and pulls out a book to show to the girls. The title reads “The Dark Arts for Dummies,” and has a deformed face on the cover. “Was thinking we could do a little conjuring at my place. What do you say?”

“Uh…” Carly keeps her gaze fixed on the cover. “Gee, Brook. I don’t know… Maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Why not?” Emmy spurts. “Not like we’ve got anything better to do. besides, I’m interested in this stuff.”

Carly quickly faces the warthog. “Um, are you sure about that?”

“Come on, Carly,” replies Emmy. “It doesn’t seem too bad.”

“Yeah.” Brook smiles. “We could raise a cute little demon baby. Who knows?” Carly sighs before deciding to go onboard with the plans. Emmy asks the purple rabbit what the first step is. Brook opens the book and reads off the first page. “We’re going to need some supplies for this.”

Zach returns to the table with Hatboy by his side. “Well, turns out they’re not hiring… So much for that…”

Hatboy slurps down some of his mocha. “You probably wouldn’t want to work here, anyway. You’d have to be quick with making drinks and filling out orders. The food business is rough.”

“Don’t worry,” Emmy tells the fox. “You can fill out a lot more applications where we’re headed. Come on! We’re going back to the mall.”

***

Back at the mall, the gang wander around in search for their items. They split off in different directions as they look around. Hatboy follows Brook into the candles store. Zach, however, walks around in search of employment.

Brook notices a box labeled “dinner candles” on it. “These will do. Hats, come pick this up.”

“Why do I have to lift this?” he asks.

“Because you’re a strong boy, and I’m not able to lift this by myself.” Hatboy sighs, bends down, and lifts the box off the ground. “Perfect, let’s head to the next step.”

“Excuse me,” calls out a store associate. “We haven’t stocked those yet!” The rabbits continue to the counter and prepare to pay, leaving the clerk with a look of dismay.

Emmy searches up and down the row of chalkboards, taking the erasers and chalk from the holders. “This will suit our need of chalk dust.” She picks up one eraser, but barely has a grip on it. “Uh oh!” Upon catching it, she hits the chalk boards on either side of her, emitting dust into the air around her. “Oh no…” Emmy’s mouth begins opening wider until, “Achoo!” The dust enters her nose more, causing an uncontrollable sneeze. “I must… achoo! Get out of- achoo! Here…”

In the floral shop by the corner, Carly looks around for the last item on the list; black rose water. “Hm… If I were rose water, where would I be?” Her eyes are drawn to the bottle on the top shelf near the entrance. “Of course, it’s up there…” She looks around, yet sees no worker in the store. “And no one’s around to help… Guess I’ll just help myself then…” The cat reaches for the bottle, but her paw is only inches away from it. “Hugck! Come on!” She stands on her tippy-toes. “Come on, Carly! You’ve almost got it!” Her paw stretches out more and wraps around the item. “Got it!” Her weight, however, causes the god to lean forward into the shelf. “Uh oh! Whoa!” Carly is knocked into it, causing it to fall over. As the shelf falls, a vase of flower water tips and spills all over her. Carly gets up and sees the damages she’s caused. “Uh, whoops…” She quickly pulls out some cash and leaves it on the counter. “I’ll just be going!” She leaves the scene. “I was never here…”

The friends regroup in the center of the mall. Brook approaches them with Hatboy by her side. “All right, everyone got everything from the list?” she asks, smiling. Emmy and Carly nod. “Good. Now, let’s head on back to my place and get everything set up.”

“Set up for what?” the fox queries. Brook fills him in on the details of what they’re plans are. “Oh… W-we are? Okay, I guess we’ll-” He sniffs the cat. “Hey, why do you smell like fresh roses?”

“Please don’t,” Carly utters. “I need a bath once I get home…”

“You can wash later, when we’ve-” Emmy sniffles. “Oh no… achoo! Ugh…” She sneezes again.

“Bless you,” Brook tells her.

“Security!” someone shouts. “Security! Someone has destroyed the flower shop!” As the spectator yells, the five animals rush out the entrance.

***

The gang gathers at Brook and Hatboy’s apartment, where they set up for their “special event”. Carly draws along the floor, making a pentagram with a marker. Emmy takes sand and proceeds to encircle the pentagram, touching the points with perfection. Lastly, Zach places candles beside the points while Hatboy lights them.

Carly looks into the picture in the book before viewing the shape in reality. She crosses her arms with a smile of pleasure. “Looks about right.”

“Yeah,” Emmy adds. “And it smells nice, too!”

“Okay, let’s get started.” Brook picks up the book and holds it in her paws. “All that’s left is to recite the incantation.”

“Wait!” Zach interrupts. “What if whatever comes out of there tries to kill us?”

“Hm, good point. We should suit up and prepare for the worst.” The friends rummage around for protective equipment and anything that could be used as a weapon. They manage to find gear and tools, preparing in five minutes. Zach holds a wrench close while donning a knight’s helmet, while Carly protects herself with football helmet, wielding a frying pan for her defense. Emmy’s head is covered with a pumpkin as a baseball bat leans up against her for her weapon. Hatboy and Brook use bubble wrap as light armor, donning bike helmets for their heads. Hatboy’s weapon is a shovel. The purple rabbit holds up her book. “Everybody ready?” Her friends stand by her, ready to expect the unexpected, while she begins the incantation. “For thou who lives trapped in flame and clay, heed this call, rejoice and pray.” Zach’s arms tremble, shaking the wrench in his grip. Carly tightens her grip of her frying pan. “Gather upon thy mortal door.” Hatboy hides behind the counter. Emmy watches with fascination and interest. “Break the gates, and emerge once more!” The candle flames enlarge, brightening the room as a portal opens within the center of the pentagram. One big, round ball shoots out from the entryway, bouncing off the walls of the apartment. The three girls panic as the frenzy continues.

“Whoa!” Carly dives behind the counters in the kitchen to take cover, lying on the floor. “Jeez! How do you stop this thing?!”

“Good question,” Brook answers. “I don’t know.”

Emmy dodges as the flame ball flies past her. “This thing’s out of control! Yipe!” She stumbles onto the ground, avoiding the fire sphere as it nearly collides into her. The flaming sphere then makes it to Zach, hitting him direct on and knocking him down to the ground, then bouncing off of him. He grudges his torso while lying on his side.

“Don’t worry!” Hatboy holds the shovel firmly. “I’ve got it!” As the ball comes him way, he swings and smacks it away. The sphere of flames smashes through the glass window and outside. “Homerun! Woo!” The orb is last seen barreling down the street, burning lampposts and trees along the way. “Um, uh oh…”

Brook stands and looks out the broken window. “Nice going… You yeeted our demon out the window!”

Emmy rushes over to the fox, who sitting on the floor, attempting to get up. “Zach, you okay?”

Zach grunts. “Ugh! That was rough!”

The warthog notices a large burn spanning from under his pectorals to the upper pelvic region, covering his abdominal area. “Oh geez! That looks bad…”

“Let me see!” Brooks glances over. “Ooff! That certainly looks like it hurts.”

Carly walks over and sees the fox’s burn. “Oh my goodness! Zach, we should take you to the hospital.”

Zach shows his friends the palm of his paw. “No! I’m okay.” He gets to his feet slowly. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. Just a slight burn… I’m used to pain.”

“We should get you some ice, at least,” Hatboy insists. “And you should rest.”

“I’m worried about you,” Carly tells the fox. “We should-”

“I’m fine!” utters Zach again. “Nothing too bad… Shouldn’t we try and get our demon?”

Emmy looks out the broken window. “I think it’s a bit late for that… That thing is long gone, and not sure where it went.”

“Aw man!” Brook juts. “I was so excited! I had a good feeling we’d be friends with a demon! Damn…”

“It’s getting late,” Carly says. “I should head home before my mother worries about me.”

“Yeah, same,” Emmy adds. “Stepdad’s going to go ballistic if I’m not back in my “cell” before curfew… Sorry about your apartment.”

“It’s no biggie,” Brook tells her. “That was freaking exciting, though. See yous around.” The cat and warthog exit through the door before Hatboy closes it.

Zach lies on his back against the couch. “Ugh…” He raises his head to examine the burn mark on his torso. “That stings…”

“I thought you said it didn’t bother you,” Hatboy reminds him.

“It hurts a lot,” Zach responds. “I just don’t want to go to the hospital… Not after everything I’ve been through…”

“I hear you,” Brook jumps in. “Hospitals suck anyway. Need a package of frozen peas to hold on your stomach?”

“Yes, please…”

@carlycmarathecat @emmy-the-absolute-goof @bendy-bear-15

#Rabbit #Fox #Warthog #Friends #Furiends #Cat #Furry #Fursona

6 notes · View notes

little-dragon-stories · 4 years

Text

King chap 14

Your life changed completely when from a slave, you became a spy for the king. Will you be able to help him in his fight against slavery before it’s too late and the threat hanging over him comes true?

In this society where love comes after fortune, will your mutual affection be able to flourish?

Royal au fic pairing female reader and Kwon JiYong

Feat: YoungBae, TaeHyung, MinHo and SeoJoon (just because I had their face in mind when I pictured their character)

W.C: 4298

Warnings: Smuttish at the beginning (if we can say it like that). Otherwise, angst.

Personal note: This chapter is dense and intense. So many things happens. Buckle up.

Disclaimer: Everything in this story is fictional. There is no research to be politically accurate or to fit a certain period of time or place. In one word, it’s all invented.

My princess, personal muse editor: thank you for always giving my work a first read. Love you so much. What would I do, without you? <3<3<3<3<3

Chapitre 14

“You’re ok?” he asked, gently rubbing your arm with his soapy hands.

The room was quiet as if you were the only people awake in the whole kingdom. The only audible noise was the slight lapping of the water when he rinsed his hands in it. You were both in a tub installed in his room. The morning has arrived, warm and lit. JiYong sat behind you, your back leaning against his chest. The sunlight filtered through the diaphanous curtains, revealing a few grains of dust otherwise invisible. The morning must not have been lazy, but he insisted that you take a bath together before he leaves. He stated that he had to take care of you, you certainly won’t complain about it.

Last night, your first real night together, was magnificent. JiYong, carried away by a consuming passion, went more explosive than he wanted at the start. But you responded so well to his assaults, that he could not resist and had abandoned himself completely in the act. You made love all night, unable to get enough of each other. Each time was always better than the previous time. It was fatigue that won out over your desire in the wee hours of the morning. Sated and very much in love, you have fell asleep in each other’s arms. Despite the heat of this hot night, you couldn’t let go of each other. It would have been even more intolerable.

“Of course, I’m okay”, the back of your head leaning on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and yawn.

“Oh! No! Because of me, you’re tired this morning. You’re absolutely sure I didn’t hurt you? You’re not sore anywhere?”

You burst into laughters. He was adorable, worrying like that.

“Aaaw, JiYong, you’re so cute. We slept for not even 2 hours in 2 nights! Of course I’m dead tired. But did you hear me complain? Please, stop worrying.”

“I just want to make sure I haven’t hurt you or…”

You turned around in the small tub and because of the fit space available, you found yourself trapped between his legs. His wet skin felt amazing against yours. You tangled your arms around his neck and leaned over him in a slippery cuddle. His hands glided down your lower back and rested there, lazy and heavy.

“Listen carefully Kwon JiYong. I was there too, last night. I don’t remember asking you to stop. I don’t remember asking you to slow down either. In fact, it’s the opposite, right?” Although you were shy talking about last night, you couldn’t resist nuzzling your nose along the side of his neck. You felt so good in his arms. So good.

“Actually, you’re right! It’s all your fault! Shame on you for asking me more and more…” he joked, relieved. “I love you so much, you insatiable woman. Next time, I’ll make you ask for more again. I’m actually really good at it”. He teased, kissing the top of your shoulder.

“Oh no! I’ve created a monster!” you giggled “but I love this attitude better! Do you think we have time, right now?” you teased, humping against his crotch. You had the impression that in his presence, when you were alone, all respectability would be hard to maintain.

“I think I’ll always have time to make love to you” he said, serious, as his hands framed your face.

“Oh! That’s promising… Considering how we are leaning, I guess you’ll be the one who begs right now.” you said, your modesty soared as your desire increased.

“I don’t mind at all, love. With you, begging will become my normality”.

And there you were, lazily making love to each other again. Insatiables.

++++++ ++++++ ++++++ ++++++ ++++++

“Y/n?” A joyful voice interrupted your thoughts of the morning. You were happy the little boy couldn’t read your mind.

“Yes little Channie, prince of my heart” you answered lovingly.

“Why do you think it’s a good idea to end slavery?”

The question took you by surprise. This morning, you and him had the idea to write and illustrate a storybook. You had to keep the little boy busy. While his uncle and Kyo’s were on the run, JiYong preferred if Channie’s contact were reduced to its minimum. He was scared some traitor could be hiding among the staff, as it already happened in the past. You offered to be the one taking care of him during the day. JiYong’s quarters being the safest place in the kingdom, you had stay inside his safe walls. He took no chance when it came to the security of his love ones.

You spend a couple of hours writing short parts of the story, divided into small paragraphs. You took care to leave room enough to paint an image representing the action later on. You were working on your sixth page and you were challenging the little boy to justify the sad ending he wanted for his hero.

“This is a very serious question. Where is it coming from, all of sudden?”

“I had lunch with my father, remember? We had our father and son moment. He told me he was writing a new law. That was just before he spit what he had in his mouth. The new recipe that our cook tested was not good at all” he said, pouting.

You smiled, imagining the prince and the king, spitting their food in front of the helpless servants.

“Oooh, that must have been funny to watch!” He ignored your comment, already thinking of something else. His mind was constantly racing at high speed.

“Did you know that our new cook is YoungBae’s wife? Father hired her after our food was poisoned last month. She was not a cook at all, she still has to learn but dad said he needed someone trustable in the kitchen. What food do you found absolutely disgusting? What color should we paint the little girl’s dress in our story?”

“Woah! Calm down little boy, I’m befuddled! I’m still processing the cook thing” you laughed.

The queen entered the room and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

“Is my son giving you a hard time, Y/n?”

“Oh! Yes! He is. I can’t make him stop talking for more than 2 seconds.

You teased him. You were feeling good today, your heart was light and you were in a playful mode. Even without having slept very much, you felt beautifully well.

“Then, you should have come and told me. I would have given him a good correction” she played along with you, just before she patted her son’s hair. She had cried, it was evident. Her eyes were red and puffy.

The three of you spent a few minutes chatting together, she listened carefully to the story her son had invented with your help. She smiled and congratulated his creative side. The servant came and served you some tea and cut fruits. Before they left, the prince asked them where his father was and if he was busy. He felt the urge to discuss the storyline with him, apparently.

“Prince JiChan, your father was alone in the executive room an hour ago, writing important documents”.

“Oooh, alone in the executive room, you said?” the queen asked, smirking in your direction. “I believe he’s struggling and wouldn’t mind a little helping hand” she adds.

“He was writing meticulously, Mama, he seemed just fine.”

As soon as you were alone again, she invited you to go and surprised him.

“Go meet him Y/n, he would be so pleased. I’m sure he’s thinking of you anyway and can’t write anything” she adds, teasingly. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the queen pushing you in her husband’s arms.

“You have a good idea actually. You don’t mind staying with Channie?”

“Of course not, I’m his mother after all. Go, right now, before one of his annoying counselor arrives before you”

You wasted no time. It was at a run that you crossed the bridge on stilts.The warm season was expanding, not ready to give way to the fall. Some flowers had wilted, replaced by a whole new vegetation, less varied but just as colorful. A thin proof that the fall was coming soon.

Arriving at the destination, you smiled and bowed at the guards standing by the exterior door. They let you in without a single question, lowering their heads when you greeted them. You took a deep breath to try and calm your heart that was beating too fast, excited to see JiYong again soon. The night had been perfect and the morning just as wonderful. There was nothing in the world that could have prepared you for so much happiness. You wanted to thank him for that. And tell him again that you love him, because he seemed so shocked when you told him you loved him too. Almost in disbelief. Almost like if it was impossible for someone to love him for who he really was. You’ll remind him that you love him every single day from now on, you promised yourself that.

You had no intention of spying on him. That’s absolutely not what you wanted to do. You just wanted to surprise him, to hug him from behind as he would continue working and steal a kiss, maybe two. But to do that, you had to sneak in, didn’t you? You couldn’t show up if someone was in the room.

Smiling gleefully and your heart threatening to explode in your chest, you took two small steps forward. The idea of cuddling him, breathing in his neck made you happy. You slowly walked towards the screen that was hiding the secret back door. When you heard him talk, you moved backwards, your plans had failed. You couldn’t move, talk or even breathe anymore when you recognised the voice of the man he was talking with.

“... of course, I knew you wouldn’t believe me, Cheon ha. But I’m telling you the truth”.

MinHo. Jang MinHo was here, talking with JiYong. What was going on? This is impossible, you must be dreaming. You never thought you would hear this voice ever again, you didn’t want to. Petrified, you wanted to leave, to run away from your ex-master but you were unable to move, frozen on the spot. Your heart was already beating fast, it was now threatening to come out of your chest. Anxious, scared, you couldn't think of a good reason for him to be here.

“I don’t believe it because it’s not the truth MinHo.”

“I haven’t seen Kwon SoYoung in years, believe it or not, majesty. But I heard there's a warrant for his and Kyo’s arrest. What did they do?”

“I have no intention to discuss it with you”.

“Well then, unless you have reconsidered your position about the offer I made, I guess I’ll be going back”.

“Don’t you dare declare that the discussion is over. Are you greater than the king, now? Until I give the order, you will remain here and answer my questions, as the low cast that you are. Did I make myself clear?” he hissed, losing his calm.

Jiyong’s voice was openly hostile, he did not hide his hatred for his interlocutor. Belittling him like you’ve never seen him belittle anyone. A surprised murmur rose from the room. So they weren't alone, the guards were protecting him, YoungBae being never far from the king. Swallowing his pride, MinHo continued.

“You didn’t like the offer I made, majesty? I wonder why. It was a generous one, if you’d ask me”.

“Generous? Let me laugh. Generous for who?”

“For SeoJon, of course” he mispronounced “I bet he was mad that you refused to welcome his wife and their baby. Such a small creature, you are heartless, majesty. I am sure you have regretted your decision”.

Hearing it, you fell on your knees, in disbelief. He couldn't have refused to welcome them, he was the one who said to SeoJoon that it was inhuman to be seperate from his loved ones. There must have been an explanation, but what could it possibly be?

“The audacity you have. If you would have been so generous, you would have sent them here on the first place, without trying to trade them”. He was furious. You know him, you know that tone is more than just cold. He was pissed.

“It’s my father who picked the slaves for you majesty. Not me. I wouldn’t have picked those three”.

“Yes, I figured. I wonder why” he answered, sarcastic.

You were curious, you needed to know what was this offer MinHo made to the king. Why did JiYong refuse HyunSa and MiNa? So many questions were coming in your mind, so many possible scenarios.

“Jang MinHo, not only did I refuse your deal, but I also commanded that you will give me Master SeoJoon’s wife and daughter. You disobeyed my order. Because of that, you will be punished”

“I told you majesty, I would gladly give them back to you in exchange for Y/n, I was even giving you 5 more men, but you refused”

“WHAT?” you heard yourself asked out loud. Stupefied, you walked towards them, the screen falling on the ground on your way.

“Y/n?” JiYong asked, genuinely surprised to see you here.

“What did he just say?” you asked your king, dumbfounded.

“Y/n? Is that really you?” MinHo was stupefied. You have changed so much, he had to look at you twice to make sure it was really you.

“Y/n” the king’s tone was serious and commanding, he never used that tone with you before “Go back in the study room please. I’ll come back and explain later”.

He wanted you to leave, to run away as far as possible from your ex-master. Knowing you might feel distressed right now, he wanted you to stay away from the bad souvenir. His biggest fear was taking place right in front of his eyes and he was under the impression that everything that you had built together was about to be shattered. But for now, it was not the right time to think about it. It was time to take action.

“No, no, majesty. I would love to hear what she has to say. But first, why is she here, in the royal executive room? How come, the king himself needs to justify his decisions to his staff member, even as beautiful as her? This is interesting” MinHo was having a blast.

His viscous eyes were on you, since the second you arrived in the room. His mind tuned out of his surroundings and focused only on you. Everything else in the background became muffled sounds and patterns he couldn't make any sense of. In another context, he wouldn’t have recognised you. You’ve gained a few kilograms, you gained some colors on your cheeks as well and you didn’t have those blue circles under your eyes anymore. Your skin was now free of scratches or injuries, at least the exposed skin he could see. With those ladies’s clothes and combed hair, you looked like a real lady, now. So different than when you were on the plantation. So appealing, he was enthralled by your beauty. He was already convinced that you should return to the plantation but to see you like that, he knew that his obsession would not diminish, that it will even get stronger. Until you were between his legs, where you belong.

Oh! He have tried sex with other slaves, he did. He tried the same positions, the same acts. He used the same words. He even called you by your name, sometimes as he closed his eyes. He understood really soon that none of them would ever be able to replace you, no matter how hard they tried to satisfy his needs. Because none of them was you. It became an obsession. He had to get you back. You were in front of him, so close but still untouchable. Now he had to make you come back to him at all cost. Even if he loses everything he owns. He will make you his, again.

“What was the offer, sir? Tell me, please. I want to hear it from you”. You begged your king, shaking from head to toes. Your voice was trembling and your lips threatening to turn blue. You couldn’t have heard correctly.

It’s MinHo that answered, more than happy to have created a situation.

“Let me light up your mind, Y/n.

“Shut up, MinHo” JiYong said.

“Like I was just saying, the first week after you were brought here, I sent a written offer to our beloved majesty. You, back in the plantation, against SeoJon’s wife, son and I was even willing to give our majesty, 5 more men in the process. But without a reason, he refused''.

“Are you telling me that I am here, living the best life possible and that because of me, HyunSa and MiNa are deprived from their husband and father? I could have made the reunion possible just by going back on the plantation?” you asked, outraged.

JiYong ignored your comment.

“I didn’t just refuse, I ordered you to liberate them immediately but you lied to me and said they were in HyunSa’s family, which I know wasn’t the truth. And by the way, it’s a daughter they have and her name is baby MiNa.”

“This is such a futile detail”.

“Take me now! Bring me back there, right now!” You interrupted their dialogue. You became suddenly unable to think straight. You were scared to go back there, petrified. You didn’t want to leave JiYong behind, you don’t think you would be able to live without him anymore. You didn’t want to hurt him either but in your head, there was no other option. It was your happiness against your friend’s. You were so torn, it twisted your stomach.

“Y/n!” the king anxiously called your name until you looked at him. “It’s not your decision to make. Go back to the study room, please. Right now”. He was more ordering than asking. Everything in his tone hinted to you that he was not gonna accept anything but your obedience.

“Please?? Since when a king nicely asks something to his subordinate? This is interesting”

You didn’t listen to your king, you walked towards your ex-master, willing to follow him. Scared, sad, mad. A mixture of emotions invading you. You looked above your shoulder, to have a last image of the man you will always love. Your eyes met his and you could read fear in his beautiful face. You know, he’s trying to communicate something through his eyes, but the message, unlike normally, didn’t reach you. You didn’t want him to be sad, you didn’t want things to end like this with him. Were you ever destined to be happy? With every passing day, you thought this happiness was finally possible. Is everything you built here, will end like this? Are you gonna screw everyone’s happiness, everywhere you go?

Until today, your biggest wish was for Seo to be reunited with his wife and daughter, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than that. With your hands trembling, you walked towards Jang MinHo. The further you went, the more your chin sank into your neck, moved by an ancient reflex. You paused, thinking of JiYong too. His happiness too, has become your priority, now. Little Channie too, you love him so much. You didn’t want to leave him, them. You didn’t want to make JiYong sad. What to do? You froze completely, shocked. It was like your body was not responding anymore, like you had dozed off.

“Y/n, come back here. Don’t you dare, interfere in this”. JiYong was panicking. Every fiber in his body was on high alert. That didn’t make you come back or continue to walk towards MinHo. You were half way between the two men. Unsure about what to do,

“Well, majesty, isn’t her decision? She wants to come back to the plantation, isn’t it what you want, that people can choose for themself?” MinHo provoked the king, openly.

“Jang MinHo, you will leave my court right now and you’ll have to pay me with 20 slaves for disobeying my previous orders, that includes MiNa and HyunSa. I want them both alive, that goes without saying.”

You were not able to think clear, the words JiYong just said rang no bell at all. A new thought came into your mind. Suddenly, anger invades you. Baby MiNa and HyunSa, your best friend, could have been here already and JiYong refused it. He never mentioned it either. You felt betrayed by the man who said he loves and trusts you. He hid important information from you, information that could’ve changed the course of history for your friends. You could’ve played an important role, allowing their reunion. But Jiyong prevented you. You don’t think you can ever forgive that lie. He didn’t trust you enough to involve you and it broke your heart in two.

“I’m going with him, I’m sorry, sir’ you said to your king. “I want Seo to have his wife and daughter here when he’ll be back. If it’s the only solution, I’ll do it, I’ll sacrifice my own happiness for theirs. I’m so sorry” Silent tears went down your chin.

“Y/n, it’s not the only solution, Think about it, I’m begging you. Y/n, come here. Right now” he urged. “This is my decision to make, not yours and my decision is final. You come back here’ he said, noticing you were not moving an inch.

‘No” You noticed that a guard has followed you, a hand on his sword. He was getting close to you, waiting for further orders.

MinHo burst out with a big fake laugh, amused. He always loved conflicts.

“I can see that the rumor was true, I couldn't believe it when it came to my ears. Guess what, majesty? There is a rumor that a slave has passed directly from dirt to the king’s bed. Some even go so far as to say that the king refuses his courtesans, now. One mocks the queen, saying that the slave must have certain talents that the queen does not possess. Is that slave our beautiful Y/n? Are you, using my leftovers, majesty?”

“You son of a dog!” JiYong said, angry. His face was red, his heartbeat pulsed at his temples. He was about to lose it.

“MinHo, you give me your word that you’ll send them here if I follow you?” you asked, looking straight into his eyes, something you have never the courage to do before but with JiYong close, you found the strength.

“Of course, sweetheart” he purred, reaching a hand to grab you. But JiYong was determined not to let it happen. This man will never touch you again. And you’ll never go back to the plantation. He stood up, his guards circling him automatically. He went straight in front of you, protecting you with his whole body. He clung you a little bit abruptly and dragged you behind him. You tried to protest but he held you back. A guard grabbed you by the waist and kept you from moving. JiYong’s anger was manifest.

“Leave me alone” you told the guard.

“Y/n, go back to the study room. Now”. He ordered you, looking straight at MinHo’s face. He won’t turn his back from him.

“I can’t do that and you know why. Also, you lied to me…. I want my friend’s family to be reunited. If I have to sacrifice myself, I’ll do it” you stated guided by a strong will to help.

“That’s what I thought. YoungBae, pick the best guards to escort her in the study room” he ordered “and make sure she stays there. Use all strategies you have to use. You hear me? Whatever it takes, do it. But she has to stay there. She may try to escape and it would put her life in danger”

“We can use force against her, sir?” A designed guard asked, uncomfortably stepping from one foot to another.

“If you have to tie her down or put her in jail, do it. Otherwise she might try to escape. Watch out, she’s clever”. He knew you would be mad at him. But he had no choice. Until he can come and talk to you, explain, you’ll put yourself in danger.

MinHo laughed and this time, it was a real laughter.

“I cannot believe it” you said “’I’m so pissed right now. You, don’t you dare touch me” you told the guard when he wanted to escort you.

“I’ll be back soon, Y/n. We’ll talk then” The king said.

You served him a cold look and turned around on your heels, suddenly able to move. You didn’t want the guards to touch you, it always made you uncomfortable when a stranger did. Everybody except JiYong. You left, escorted by 6 armed guards. You were not happy to be treated like a prisoner and you shown them.

“I will follow, there is no need to touch me” You told the guards. Although the situation was a nightmare, JiYong was happy to see your fighting attitude. The first time he met you, you wouldn't have react like that. You would have done whatever your master or boss would have asked without questioning it. Now, you were fierce and you seemed strong. That made him happy and proud. Now, he only hopes that you will forgive him, for the whole situation.

“Now, it’s between you and me,” JiYong told MinHo just before you leaved, escorted.

#jiyong kwon jiyong #kwon ji yong #jiyong scenario #bigbang #bigbang scenario #Gd #Gd serie #Gd scenario #Gd smut #Gd angst #G dragon #G dragon angst #G dragon serie #G dragon scenario #Jiyong serie #Bigbang serie

20 notes · View notes