#'i thought i was a doll with no feelings' <my beloved daughter i am going to explode akio into a fine mist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hysteriium · 3 years

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𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆;

(𝐆𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞)

(𝐀/𝐧 ): This is the first I’ve posted in ages!!! I can’t recall how long it’s been, life has truly been hectic but I’m getting back on the saddle!!! We’re starting with my boi! I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing this! I’ve been experimenting with the way he talks so it’s not as overt as I’ve previously written! I feel like the intonations may break the flow a bit so I’ve tried to make it more cohesive! Lmk what you guys think! Also shout out to my amazing partner @lilliryth they’re the light of my life and helped me edit this!! They’re such an amazing person and I would not be where I am today without them.

( 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ): Wedding. That is all. It’s not what you think.

( 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ): DK! Joker x Reader.

( 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ): 7,600+ k words!

( 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ): Angst (very little), swearing, violence.

The first time you’d asked, he simply stared in disbelief.

“Come again?” The bright red hues of confusion painted his husky voice.

The question had been wreaking havoc in your thoughts for the past month, unsure of how to slip out from ambiguity onto the sureness of the tongue. Such a bold yet silly little request was sure to be large and repugnant to the man hovering above you. While the darkness of his eyes was accentuated by his stygian greasepaint, hints of cocoa peeked through, prompting shy flutters of anxiety in your abdomen.

You can do this.

Your tongue slid across the arid cracks of your lips, wetting them. You cleared your throat, “I need a date to a wed–”

That was all you could get out before he blinked a few times and strode off.

The second time, albeit similar in difficulty, thankfully didn’t result in him running.

You tiptoed into his makeshift office with an air of mischief, his room sombre except for the lamp that spotlighted his desk. Hunched over blueprints which you suspected were his next big scheme, his eyes never drifted from the intricacies on the paper.

“Boo!” You shouted, catching his hips with an unbreakable hold when you closed the distance. While his body tensed, he couldn’t control the breath of amusement that left his nose.

“I can see you really tried there.”

You knew he followed your stare when his long fingers worked to roll the sheet. They were fast – so fast the pinched ends stuck out in layered rings that almost resembled winding mountainous trails. He couldn’t have curious eyes ogling his extra top secret will-have-to-kill-you-if-you-found-out criminal plans, now could he?

“What?” you started, while your hands fell and your footsteps whispered away from him. You felt the creases of your mouth wobble, ready to smile at any moment, and so you bit the inside of your tongue. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” he smirked, petting your head.

Curse his height.

“Now, uh, what is it, doll?”

You let your smile leap free, “I need to ask a super dooper big fav–”

“I’m not going.”

“But whyyyyyy? My parents are harassing me! They think their daughter’s going to grow old and grey and be alone forever.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why.”

You shot him a look, one that only fuelled his amusement.

“J, I can’t just not show up.”

You watched his figure rise slightly as he drew and released a breath.

“I don’t like wed–” his tongue stuck out like he’d tasted something bad before he cleared his throat “–dings, they’re full of false hope, drunks and...” he shuddered, “romance. You see, they’ll end up killing each other in a few years. I can picture it now: dearly beloved wife kills cheating husband. Oh how could this have ever happened?”

He scoffed.

“You’re so dramatic. I promise it would only be for a few hours.”

“And pumpkin, how exactly are you gonna sneak me into a… place like that when I look like this,” he said, hands motioning to his face – mostly his scars.

It broke your heart. You could've sworn you heard it splinter, the downturn of your brows impossible to hold back. If only words were enough to convey complex feelings, to convey the pile of bricks nestled in your chest, to convey the desperate crave to comfort and rebut, the need to protect – even from himself. You had yet to find a way, and so you were stuck behind the thick lock and chain of language with no key in sight; restricted and bound to tools you never thought were enough, but could only hope were enough.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face. In his eyes you saw the emotions flicker, almost as tangible as they were transparent – anger, fear, shock. Stood still and stiff, you nodded softly, giving him a smile of equal warmth. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He squinted before hesitantly giving in, shifting so his cheek rested against your palm. He had to lower himself a little more to do so.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with how you look. They’re beautiful, and I’ll keep saying so until there’s no breath left in my lungs.”

You held him ever so gently while he flitted his eyes shut. Your heart galloped then, its swell too big for your body and for a moment, brief as the breeze, the chaos he prided himself in was absent; for a moment there was peace.

“If you weren’t The Joker, I’d say go as is. Though, I have a plan!”

“Oh, do you now?” He said, shaking his head and returning to work. It was clear he was rapidly reaching his patience threshold.

Damn it.

“They have food!” You trailed off unsurely, as if it was a question – pinning your last hope on appealing to his raccoon inclinations.

It didn’t work.

The third, well…

You had just about given up and accepted the fact that it wasn’t his scene, that him meeting your parents would never be an option – a reality you had started to think of as a good thing the more you thought about it.

And so, the third day had been your acceptance. Self-care. Instead of chasing after an ideal, your hands were clutching a book, almost too hard, as the part you had been anticipating since very early had reached its finale. With your legs curled underneath you and practically asleep, your eyes flicked furiously from word to word–

That is until a looming figure shadowed the page completely, concealing all light from the lamp next to you.

Annoyance creased your features as you looked up at the clownish culprit. Your eyes met and a staring contest ensued, the intensity of his eyes beckoning a response until he, uncharacteristically, broke first.

“Will this make you, uh, happy?”

All traces of irritation were washed away by bewilderment, “sorry?”

“My being with you.”

“You mean to the wedding?” You asked, wide-eyed. If you hadn’t been as shocked as you were, you would have snorted at his continuous inability to say the word ‘wedding’.

He shifted on his feet, eyes darting away for a second before he licked his lips. “Yeah.”

“Is this a joke?”

“I’m not that cruel.”

You paused to hum obnoxiously, your finger tapping your chin to challenge the notion.

“Never mind,” he waved his hand in the air and was about to walk off before you grabbed his hand and sprung off your seat. You felt him try to wiggle out of your grasp with a grunt, but it was too late. “Thank you!” You shouted.

You missed the way his surprise melted into a genuine curl of his lips, twitching; the muscles unused. Instead, you were too busy stuffed in his vest, with your arms swathed around him. You both stayed there for a while basking in the warmth of each other, as his hands, which you guessed were hanging awkwardly in the air and unsure of what to do, encircled your waist.

Third time’s the charm.

Shaking fingers twirled sapphire silk, gliding over your cinched waist before finally moving up to the delicate exposed flesh of your neck. You glanced over the spaghetti straps that curved comfortably over your shoulder, and the simple silver circle necklace that laid between them, its chilled presence clashing with the heat of your skin.

Knock knock knock!

“Just a minute!” You said, jumping at the sudden rude intrusion.

“Not even funeral parlors take this long,” you heard J say from the other side, the distinctive departure of footsteps following promptly. They seemed faster than usual.

You puffed air at his complaint after calming your racing heart. Then you scrambled to finish up the final touches of makeup, at last winding the nude colored ribbons of your heels around your calves. Your head felt light, and your shoes only worsened the sudden gelatinous state your legs took on. Never before had you dressed up in such a way, not for years and much less in front of someone you dearly cherished. The line between fashionable and laughable was blurred and never truly had been exercised. Waving away the fuel your anxious thoughts provided, you decided to try and move. Your heels wobbled trying to avoid the flowing material pooled by your ankles, and you’d just managed to slip one foot out through the thigh-high slit. No matter how much you sighed, the pressure remained, weighing like an anvil. And so, with nothing much to lose, you made your way to the door; the dampness of your fingers leaving its foggy signature upon the knob.

This was it.

You breathed in one last time before opening the door.

“Okay, I’m re–”

You exhaled sharply, feeling the earlier intake of air leave you – taking with it the remaining wind in your lungs. You couldn’t control the twinkle of your eyes, nor the flip of your stomach as you gazed upon him.

His form was angled against the wall and his arms were crossed – that was, until he dragged his eyes over to you. His limbs then dropped to their sides and he quickly, almost stumbling over his shoes, righted his position. The bob of his Adam's apple was clear while both of you stood meters from each other with widened eyes. You knew he had the ability to pull off a suit, but the royal blue he donned was stunning. The stark colour complemented his blond locks, while his foulard tie with its blends of pinks, purples, and its navy base matched his socks.

It seemed you were both in the same boat, consumed by swells of giddiness and the need to fidget. The fingers that were dressed in dark brown leather gloves drummed against his thigh, while one of his cedar suede shoes tapped furiously against the floor.

“What.” He finally stated, rather than questioning.

You dropped the necklace your fingers had started circling.

“Nothing! You just look… really nice,” you uttered earnestly, unable to contain the sweet smile that broke through awe.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh… you too,” he said, the last part coming out less steady.

He avoided eye contact when you trotted over to him, fiddling with his cufflinks, though his tending to them immediately vanished when you began to accentuate the swish of your hips.

All fidgeting stopped.

You were sure he was expecting something else, rather than the delicate cupping of his cheek once you reached him, soft lips meeting with roughened skin as you kissed his scars. You took your time with each one, whispering affection, before claiming his mouth. He growled against you, and you could feel him tighten his hold.

The tip of his tongue traced the stain of lipstick, a wordless demand for entry which left you weak. Almost parting your lips to allow the gentle slide of his tongue, he suddenly reared back with a smirk.

“Peach,” he cooed.

You were going to have to reapply later.

With a small smile you extended your arm to the couch, and knowing time was beginning to pass, he complied. As he advanced, you peeked at the orange lining in his blazer. The hue was similar to his purple coat, though slightly lighter. You smiled to yourself, the small detail so characteristically him.

“Alright. Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, bracing himself.

Already a step ahead, you had brought out the makeup needed just prior to getting dressed. Sitting on one of the nearby surfaces, you picked up a small translucent bag with little red hearts on it – a fact he’d snickered to himself at when he first saw it – and walked over to him.

“As you wish, grumpy,” you simpered, “now hold still!”

True to his new title, you heard him mutter something unintelligible under his breath. The tap-tap-tap of his foot against the floor was most of the noise for a good while, and although distracting, the fidgeting of his hands was less noisy. You knew more than anyone he needed to squirm around, some movement at the very least, and so you endured. You deduced that he’d not been this close to someone in so very long, let alone allow them to do his makeup. That task, intimate and personal within itself, was not something others could be trusted with.

“Time to hide these little guys,” you murmured, focused as the beauty blender sat between your fingers and dabbed on concealer. “Not that they need hiding. I’ll miss them.”

“Really?” He chimed in, eyes shut while you did your work.

“Yeah, they’re a part of you and I’d never want you to hide or be ashamed of who you are.”

“Hmm,” he trailed off.

Occasionally his mouth quirked, his tongue darting out to lick his scars; an involuntary movement. You were patient, and even if he wasn’t overt about his guilt of messing up your progress, you reassured him lightly with a kiss on the head, sometimes playing with the dirty blond waves that lacked any sign of green.

The day before he’d washed out the colour in preparation for the big day, groaning until he caught sight of himself in the mirror; contemplative. Ethereal and almost delicate he seemed. How precious it was to witness such cracks in the fortress, where the basking rays of sun illuminated what once was – and still is, only shrouded by shrubbery and thorns, so overgrown and disordered that they had forgotten to take care of even themselves. Forgotten how.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he groaned as you finished blending the concealer on both cheeks. Grabbing the foundation you had colour matched, you dabbed a bit on your hand before applying that too.

“Honestly, me neither,” you replied, feeling no need to sugarcoat the shock from your tone. You knew he appreciated the truth. “But I’m glad you are! You’re doing so well!”

He squirmed a little at the compliment but settled seconds later. Soon after finishing the blending, you reared back and observed your labour. Although it wasn’t perfect, and if you looked hard enough you could still see the intricate crevices in his skin, it passed.

“All done!”

As soon as you spoke, J pushed off his palms. He was halfway off the chair when you stopped him.

“Wait! I have to walk you through something.”

At this, his eyebrows quirked up. You knew you had his attention.

“Conditions!” You announced.

“Ah. Now there are conditions.”

“Yes! I don’t want you to throw a tantrum and blow up the whole reception.”

“My my, aren’t you a little fire stopper.”

“Promise me.”

He flicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. With one hand on his chest and the other raised just next to his head, he bowed a little. “I swear.”

You wrinkled your nose, “I swear there will be no funny business, and I’ll be on my best behaviour – oh and no crossing your toes either!”

“You know me so well,” he sighed, admitting defeat, “Fine. I swear there’ll be no funny business and I’ll be on…” he cleared his throat and brought a closed fist to his mouth, “my best behaviour.” Then he shone his impishly wide grin, one that only intensified the pit of doubt in your stomach.

It would have to do, though.

“Okay,” you whispered.

He stood up now, towering over you.

“Okay,” he mimicked, dropping his hands at the base of your hips.

The last few days had been full of surprises, his agreement to attend trumping all. However, his overt display of affection was a close second. Never before had he been so forthcoming and so comfortable with physical contact.

As his hands laid there, unmoving and making their home in your curves, you inched closer to him; a specific craving only his warmth could ease. Though, those very same hands around you tightened when you tried to step forward, holding you in place. Curiously, you looked up at him, brows furrowed.

“What are you–”

It seemed he couldn’t help himself. The evil laughter he’d been trying to restrain bubbled from his throat and bounced off the walls. The eagerness to ask what he was doing quickly died – hard – when you could no longer feel the ground beneath your feet. It instead morphed into protests and occasional bouts of laughter as your arms dangled along his back, your pelvis against his shoulder. One gloved hand rested crudely just below the curve of your ass, occasionally squeezing your upper thigh and holding you in place, while his other arm hung unobstructed.

“We–” he clicked his tongue, “–wouldn’t want to be late now, would we?” He finished, purring.

The location was a couple hours outside of Gotham on the coastline in an area you’d practically never heard of. If it wasn’t for J’s gift for navigation, and his frustration when you kept leading him down wrong turns, you would have been hours late instead of just missing the ceremony. The last straw had been assuring him the early exit was your turn off despite his gut instinct, despite the countless times he asked ‘are you sure?’ and despite his sneaking glances – something he stopped doing when he almost crashed into the car next to you, too focused on craning his neck. All of this combined had resulted in the brutal demise of your map reading days.

Stopping where he could after taking the wrong exit he held out a gloved hand, a wordless demand for the navigator. Before long, you were back on the freeway, thankfully heading the right way. The directory rested in his lap as he balanced the seemingly breezy tasks of reading and driving.

Clearly safety was his middle name.

Once the two of you arrived at the venue, the first thing you both noticed was the heat. Warm and uncomfortable, the seabreeze made this bearable. The next notable feature was the rambunctious clamour of the crowd; music, laughter and shouting.

After worming your way out of the van, comically wedged between two much smaller cars, you headed towards the reception, stopping short from the asphalt-sand border. J stared at it as if it had foiled his genius villainous plots, as if it was the cause of all his misfortunes, as if it was responsible for the brutal murder of his first pet. Then, he made a face – a mixture between a scowl and disgust.

He sniffed, “it smells like...” he paused to grimace, “high society.”

The ghastly look was then directed ahead to each moving – breathing – organism he could see. There was no doubt in your mind the crowd had already made it on his hit list.

“For once I miss the stink of Gotham.”

“Well at least it’s at the beach!” You exclaimed, not recalling the last time you’d been. Trying to think that far back made your brain hurt, the tingle of overworked cogs and Brain Fog a lethal combination that coerced your forfeit in seconds. At the very least you were happy to be making new memories, hopefully some you’d be able to remember in the future; memories you prayed were not, later too, guarded by the merciless Brain Fog and his ravenous desire to generate headaches.

“I hate the beach,” J delivered flatly, hatred distilled rolling off his person in waves.

“Oh, you hate everything!” You pouted, brushing off his pessimism.

“It’s hard not to.”

“Well…” You stopped to think, wracking your brain to prove him wrong, “what about me?”

That had to get him.

“You especially,” he grinned, eyes twinkling with a mischief that spoke nothing other than ‘you walked right into that one, sweetheart.’

You were unable to help the sigh that sailed past your hued lips, “well, come on sunshine. You can’t stare daggers at them all day.”

“I can try,” he spat sourly.

You rolled your eyes and dragged him along but immediately dropped the act when you quickly realised it hauled unwanted eyes, like metal to magnets. Yet, J followed even though you were certain he saw the cursed asphalt-sand barrier as the very gates of hell themselves. In fact, he seemed a little bit too eager to start his anathematised exploration of the 9 circles as when you looked back, expecting to see his long limbs hanging in defeated protest, you were met with, well, nothing.

One moment he was there, the next he was gone seemingly stalking off into the unknown, hiding among the sea of people. It wasn’t like he was easy to lose either, his height and his aura of absolute discomfort is what set him apart from the rest. He protruded like a broken bone – so why couldn’t you find him?

“Damn it, J!” You harshly whispered to yourself, unknowingly stamping your foot until the insidious specks of sand tumbled their way into your shoe, under your feet and between your toes. Easily conquering your layer of protection, their coarse presence made you want to grind your teeth.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Before you could go off and search for the lost irritating puppy, you heard shouts. At first they seemed like ordinary yells, distinctive deviations from the crowd which happened to catch your attention at the right moment. Though, the more time passed and you wandered around like a newborn giraffe looking for its mother, you realised this was not the case. Most telling was the way those vague cries morphed into the familiar syllables of your name. And then finally in view, the supposed sweet comfort of childhood embodied neared; their worn features staring into your own, different from all those years ago.

You fought the urge to run.

“Hey honey!” Your dad beamed.

Two pairs of smothering arms made their way toward you, enveloping. With your fingers clutching separate materials, each as scratchy and glacial as each other, your head started to spin and you felt yourself holding your breath.

“Hey mum, hey dad, it’s nice to see you two again,” you said, feeling the slow ache from clenching your jaw starting to set in. You quickly swapped this expression for a small smile when they released you.

“How’ve you been?” Your dad inquired, the shimmer in his eyes a sight you couldn’t help but double take at. You noticed there was no glass in his hand.

“Don’t bombard her dear,” your mum rolled her eyes, “where’s this date you were telling me about?”

She lingered on the word with an emotion you couldn’t quite discern while her adjudicating eyes swept over your outfit. Her eyebrows then lifted, scrunching her nose with it. “Not bad.”

Her scanning forced you to shrink into yourself, the automatic motion of your palms relentless in their pursuit of wrinkles, a fact you did not pick up on until your mother cleared her throat at your unprompted staring contest.

“My question dear, it’s rude to ignore your mother,” her thin brows creased and the folds just above them rested along her forehead in a similar fashion.

You scrambled for an acceptable answer, the question just as ambiguous to yourself.

“He’s… um… getting us drinks! I was actually just about to go check up on–”

“Well if a man can’t even fetch you a drink he’s hardly useful,” she scoffed, turning to her husband to whisper, “can’t imagine what this prince charming looks like.”

Anger, lava-like and boiling, rose up in your throat. The pressure seemed unbearable as you tried to keep your mouth closed – tried not to defend the one you loved with your entire being. How dare she judge someone she had yet to even meet? She had yet to see the beauty that radiated in and out.

It had only been minutes and you’d already been zapped of your energy for the day.

“I think I should go check on him now.” “Yes, of course. Come back to me when you have something to show,” your mother smiled. You watched her lips stretch, her wine lipstick as pigmented as the red coating your vision.

Her hand clutched the necklace around her chest. Her fingers traced the glistening diamond which hung overtly, screaming it’s pricelessness to all passersby as she went to go have another sip of her champagne. At the corner of your eye you noticed movement, a pair of worn hands clutching suit pants. Hard. You turned automatically and when you met his eyes your dad shot you a strained smile. It almost looked like an apology.

Your stomach turned.

You tried your best to conceal the stomping as you promptly departed, promising yourself to at least wait until you were out of their view and blending in with the crowd. Once you merged with the patches, you quickly discovered that navigating your way out of it was going to be just as hard as trying to find J. Left and right amalgamated, looking the same no matter how many times you tried to compare differences and so did everyone’s outfits. You could have sworn you’d seen the same red dress three times, though you also could have sworn you went all different directions to the last; the truth was you were no more knowing than a sailor stranded at sea lacking a compass, the same indistinguishable shapelessness stretching out for miles and miles with no end in sight.

Then, a miracle – a clearing of people which shrieked hope and a long portable table with flowing white lace harbouring all kinds of food. Amongst the good news, a blotch of royal blue caught your eye and a flash of blond. Focusing your view on the table and its few inhabitants, one of which was the blue wearing stranger, you quickly realised your missing date was fixed and firm in place at the snack area. No sooner than this revelation processed you dashed over, the anger returning once the relief had run its fleeting course. As you stormed your way over to him he failed to look up, too preoccupied with the food he was collecting. Lacking in subtlety, you grabbed his arm.

“Jesus there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

J, who had been waiting to stuff his face with what you identified as another cupcake, mouth ringed with strawberry frosting, crumbs and sprinkles, dropped it in surprise and turned to you with widened eyes. They shrunk as soon as they showed an inkling of surprise and instead shifted to speckled guilt.

“Cupcake,” he managed to mumble with a full mouth.

Your fiery frustration was immediately put out by how cute he was, and you felt a surge of guilt yourself. It wasn’t fair to be taking out your personal frustrations on him.

After closing your eyes and taking a breath, you reset.

“They think I’m lying about you.”

He swallowed.

“You wanna leave? I, uh, know I want to,” he said much louder than the whisper you wish he’d used.

Such a comment warranted an elbow jab into his waist as you smiled ear to ear and sickly sweet at the passing guest who had clearly heard J. The middle aged woman with short brunette hair, white pom-pom earrings and beady eyes shot you two a blazing look before rutting her nose into the air. The reek of pretension wafted off her. Now you could see what J was saying earlier.

Pee-yew.

Everyone here sucked.

“I’m gonna kill her later,” he murmured, squinting after her.

“J, you promised to be good!”

Even if she was a grandiloquent old bitch who deserved it.

His ominous response was to pour himself some punch, the clown-in-disguise bringing the plastic up to his lips. As the cup masked most of his face, the only thing visible was his deadly gaze which bounced from congregation to congregation.

“How much longer.” Again, it wasn’t phrased as a question, more a statement.

“The bride and groom haven’t even danced yet.”

He scrunched his nose, though dropped the subject. At least verbally.

“You’re so crabby. You do know that you’re drawing even more attention to yourself this way?”

“Hmmph.”

It was silent for a few minutes before, without warning, he grabbed your hand. The hesitant and jagged strokes of his thumb followed and even though they belonged to a novice, the delicacy was still there.

The message was clear:

I’m new to this.

Your lips upturned, the gentle quirk hidden by transient hair flowing along the salty breeze. His touch was warm and paradoxically amiable; his presence a shelter cutting the chilly current that had picked up around noon. Stained lips, of which you had forgotten about until the sticky residue imprinted boldly on his glove, aimed to ease his buzzing mind. Expecting a grumble for the lipstick mark, what you got in return was the soft gaze of dark brown eyes – a sign of taming raging waters. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact the window into his soul for once could be identified as just that – a window; crystal, without the dirtied stains of camouflage and trepidation.

Something had changed.

Before you could get another word in, it was announced the bride and groom were going to have their first dance. The crowd gathered around the newly wedded couple as the music suddenly switched. The speakers were loud as they played a waltz, the couple’s limbs intertwined and swaying to its dramatic pace. They twirled and swayed with the grace of swans tiptoeing and beguiling the creeping ocean on the golden sands. Even though you knew virtually nothing about them, and were convinced that in fact this whole invite was your mother’s scheme to pry, the sight was a beautiful one to behold. The epitome of love – reciprocal trust and utter surrender; it had you wondering where you’d gone wrong previously, and if such a thing was as formulaic as it seemed to be, or if they were freefalling into the abyss as much as everyone else was; blindfolded, but nonetheless with each other. Welded in each other’s hearts.

How long had you projected your yearning at the couple and vicariously lived through their magical moment? You couldn’t say, though it was only the sudden grip on your shoulder that had managed to break your fixed admiration. It was firm, but nowhere near the realm of rough, and it even contained a fraction of gentleness, an action that wordlessly said ‘are you okay?’

At the sudden presence, you looked over your shoulder to find J, his guarded eyes holding a knowledge which only deepened the crawling feeling of embarrassment. Blood rushed to your cheeks. As you rounded your gaze back to the couple, you quickly saw the crowd was beginning to join them, all dancing at their own pace as the music continued its intimate lull. J’s hand slid down your arm while you watched and returned to hold your hand. Content and about to lean into him, your sudden love struck daze pounced away when he started to walk, dragging you along with him.

“Hey– what are you doing?”

No response.

“Let me go!” You said, your tone coming out a lot angrier than you’d expected. You guessed this alerted him because even though you were mere meters away from the rest of the crowd he stopped to explain.

“I saw the way you were looking at them. You know, cupcake, you’re not hard to read,” he drawled.

You pursed your lips, looking away for a moment.

“So what? What are you doing?”

“What does it – ah – look like?”

He’d seemingly taken your lack of response as a positive and continued forward. He grinned once he had you in position and placed his palm on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing gentle circles. He then maneuvered his other hand to grab yours and stretched it forward. From his first few steps you knew immediately it was the Viennese Waltz. The fast tempoed dance was one you weren't all too familiar with, but you’d learned its slower English counterpart.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you gasped, trying your best to conceal your astonishment. You didn’t want to seem rude, though he just didn’t seem like the person interested in such a thing. Nor have the time. You were certainly finding yourself more curious about the origin of such a talent, and all the other potential abilities that were sneakily tucked away.

“Well aren’t I just full of surprises.”

He dipped you slightly in time with the halt of the orchestra. He held you there for a moment before the tune resumed its boisterous charm, climbing steadily to its crescendo.

“Here’s to another,” he said, his smile widening. If you didn’t know him so well you would have believed the expression to be completely innocent and honeyed. Standing there intertwined with his limbs you knew that devilish gleam was anything but.

And, seconds later, this suspicion proved right.

Suddenly he lifted you, twirling you around in such a way that made you feel like you were the bride. You’d only seen such a thing in Disney movies and cheesy rom coms – to be cherished, to be loved and cared for in such a delicate way was a fantasy; a taste of nostalgia and a serenade to the hopeless romantic within.

“J, put me down! Put me down!” You felt yourself swallow when his hands tightly gripped your hips. For a moment the irritation you’d experienced all day from a full face of makeup and wandering had all been worth it.

His laughs slipped out, too; a direct contrast from his often irked facade, a musically heart-warming phenomenon which no instrument could emulate. The whole time you kept your eyes on each other and never once did they deter, focused on drinking in the beauty of each other. The cheers from the crowd you’d gathered fell upon both your deaf ears, transfixed by each other’s magic in your own closed off bubbles.

As you continued to dance, the act itself felt like flying. The crowd separated when you neared – that is, until everything stopped. Sharp and prompt.

Neither of you had much regard for the abrupt bump when it happened, there were people everywhere and mistakes occurred. It was no big deal. At least that’s what you told yourself until such a collision was followed by a violent shriek and a splash.

Loud gasps replaced the background noise of applause.

In a few frightening seconds your brain made the connection – linking who you’d just seen in the same area minutes before, inches from the ocean.

“Oops,” you squeaked, too scared to turn around. However, despite your better judgement you did just that.

The groom stood in shock, evidently unable to come to terms with the sight he was seeing. One moment his new wife was safe within his arms, dancing as if it was only two of them in the universe, the next she was below him, swimming with seaweed. Then, his form began to tremble, a telltale sign that what was to come was nowhere near the realms of good.

He turned around with searing red eyes, a wrinkled nose and bared teeth. The eyes of the bull met the petrified, and his stubby, squared and well-manicured finger pointed directly at you.

“You fucking bitch!” He roared.

You jumped, feeling yourself cling to J. His arm wrapped around you reassuringly and although you trusted him with your life, being confronted by a raging groom was still nonetheless intimidating. The groom who apparently cared more about telling you off than helping his wife, who was still floundering in the crashing waves, began his march over to you.

“Do you know who I am?” He continued, and you wondered if he was still aware there was a crowd around. J almost instantly stood in front of you and had to hunch further to scowl at your aggressor.

“What was that?” J grabbed the man in front of him and slipped the blade hidden in his sleeve between the groom’s lips, angling it against the crease of his mouth.

“Hmm? Why not try your luck, princess. Say it again.”

The groom froze, the flicker of fear evident even on your end, though he kept up his brutish facade.

“You’re both going to be 6 feet under when my dad’s through with you.”

“Aww… run along to daddy so he can fix all your problems,” you could hear the pout in your boyfriend’s voice, comfortable and in your eyes even elated, to spit out the toxins he’d been gathering from just being here all day.

“So you do know who I am–” “The second most spoiled kid of Gotham’s underbelly.”

“And yet, you’re still holding the knife.”

“Of course the first would be your brother though, hmm?” J continued, completely ignoring the man's statement.

The groom gritted his teeth.

“I bet it stings to not be the favourite. To not even have him here on your big day.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” The groom spat, bullseyeing J’s shoe. You saw red pooling at the corner of the man’s mouth, the mere act of expectorating on your boyfriend’s shoe more urgent than self-preservation.

Yeesh.

“Now that’s not very hygienic,” J growled, wrinkling his nose. His grip on the knife tightened and in one quick motion, the groom was screaming.

While you couldn’t see the infliction from where you were positioned, the blood dripping onto the sand was clear as crystal. The screams of those around you were piercing, their horror and disgust forcing you to cling tighter to your boyfriend.

“J, please! That’s enough, it’s okay!” You pulled on his blazer. Feeling the hundreds of widened eyes staring holes into your being was no longer a concern. What mattered most was him. Getting out of here.

With a quick glance to his right, J met you, then looked back at the groom.

He smacked his lips.

“Seems you are lucky,” he purred, the shimmer in his eye reflecting nothing of the warmth he concealed so carefully – nothing of the warmth of when your eyes met. Instead, it was serrated and reflected jeopardy. He possessed the force of a hurricane. A gravity; the way in which he commanded the direction of things and uprooted the fortitude of the righteous, the sure, a mothernatured finesse.

He looked back at you again before shifting his hold on the man, fisting his wrinkled and bloodied shirt, then barked, “why don’t you go join your blushing bride?”

With the element of surprise, J raised his knee and shot it between the man’s legs, the man falling down almost as fast as the foreign presence made an impact. You could have sworn someone at the corner of your eye jolted, most likely fearing the worst while others let out shrieks. Fear of the unknown, the seduction of one’s imagination and its ability to fill in blanks was the most manipulatable aspect of consciousness. Rather than bleeding out and rocking lifeless against the cradling waves like so many had thought, the groom sat there, soaking in the shame of defeat and crimson. He hollered while his new wife crawled to his side.

“Tell your precious father I said ‘hi.’”

All eyes now turned to you both as you speedily departed, J dragging you along once more. The colony of sand in your shoe that had begun its formation hours ago was well in its breeding season now, the leathery insole most likely buried along with the newly wed’s marriage. Before you fully exited the cooperative crowd, forever to forget the merging faces of horror, two familiar ones caught your eye.

Hah!

“Some date, huh?” You smiled, staring at your mother straight on. The way her face twisted up in a myriad of emotions – surprise, disgust, embarrassment – was something you’d never forget. You were sure you destroyed her little snobbish social circle by the mere association. Pride swelled in your chest, a childish victory that didn’t seem so childish when you later reflected on your relationship with her.

When the two of you escaped back to the van successfully, there was a moment of contemplation.

“I – heh – think that went well!” J laughed to himself, rounding his body to face you, “you think your parents like me?”

“I think I should be asking the same to myself,” you said.

“Cheer up buttercup, at least your parents know you’re not dying alone anymore.”

“To be honest, after that shitshow they’d probably prefer it,” a sigh left your lips and you began to bite them, unconscious of the small action until the taste of metal blew up your taste buds.

“Eh. Who needs parents, anyway?”

You began to fiddle with your hands, suddenly finding them incredibly interesting. From the lack of interruptions you concluded he knew you were miles away, trapped in the wilderness of your own thoughts.

“So I’m guessing you only came because you found out whose wedding it was.”

It took a lot to break the silence, and the air suddenly shifted to a heaviness. You weren’t sure you were the only one tensing.

J clicked his tongue but didn’t answer.

“It’s okay… I think I’ve had my fill of weddings for a while, anyway. And parents. And honestly, maybe people,” you answered for him, despite the swirl of hurt brewing in your gut.

He breathed out his amusement. The lack of transience had you swallowing, frantic to keep the growing weight on your chest from expanding – from consuming your entire being with emptiness. You didn’t know how long you had until the stampede made its mark, the thunderous thuds of terror already echoing in the distance.

Those were only thoughts you could entertain alone, sunken in the decaying paradise of your bed.

Silence prevailed again.

Dazed and lost of direction, you remained fixated on the lines of your palms.

“The husband had a temper. You know, I thought they were so lovely at first.”

“That’s what they want you to believe. Their little golden castles sparkle in the sun and it’s only until the rain pours that you can see them for what they really are. Wet cardboard. Looks can be deceiving.”

“They certainly can be,” you looked up at him, smiling softly.

Even with the friction, you slowly reached up to cup his face. This time on his end, there was no fear or hesitation. Instead, just an unspoken mutual trust between two wandering souls. You looked down at his lips while your thumbs stroked the hidden lines of his scars. The gentle caresses wore down the makeup until finally they were visible again.

The marks of a survivor – beautiful and bold.

“Wait,” he said, the word simple and yet so labyrinthine. He reared back and looked at his hands while your own moved to rest on your knees. Curled into fists, his slowly unclamped like a blooming flower. What they revealed had your heart thumping, dancing its rhythm in your throat. You felt your eyes widen and the sadness immediately leave you, as if all its colour had been drained from you. You felt like a 1930’s cartoon, so shaken to the core that all you could see was greyscale.

“It wasn’t the only reason,” he whispered, the commanding presence absent.

He cleared his throat and finally looked up at you, “in fact, these were my only reason.”

“You son of a bitch,” you bit your tongue in awe at the binding pieces of metal in his hands. They twinkled in the holiday rays, beckoning, unuttering whispers of fabrication. Was the weight of those dual bands as heavy as his heart? As heavy as the solemn expression as he processed your jabbing words?

“I-I know it’s not much but–” he stuttered, and was promptly interjected.

“Oh! No, no, no! I didn’t mean–”

You both smiled. Yours wide and brazen, his small and seraphic.

“My J. Always starting fights, always getting what he wants,” you took the ring from his finger and darted to your left hand, slipping it on its rightful throne, “how can I resist?”

You kissed him mellowed and full of saccharine and he sighed, his reciprocation just as tender despite the usual dash of coarseness.

“Mine,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. He fluttered his eyes shut and his breathing began to steady.

“Mine,” you whispered.

In all that was and all that ever could be, never would you have believed such a moment possible. Magical and idiosyncratic, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Nothing big and extravagant in front of many eyes. Just the two of you, inside what you now considered the best moment of your life. What many described as a lock and chain, a prison for the rest of one’s life, you would describe as the only thing you had ever wanted. As much as before, everything felt complete.

Supernal.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, breathing in unison, basking in each other. All you knew was that it was all too soon when you hit the road again, starting the long journey back to Gotham. After a lot of the same scenery – trees, cars, rocks, more cars and occasional bodies of water – your eyes had become leaden. Resting became impossible to oppose and before long your eyes gave into its stinging demand.

Somewhere within the haze of half-consciousness, a mysterious material was draped over you. It was silken on the inside, your arms softly grazing it occasionally, and linen on the outside, your chin brushing over it when passing uneven roads. Subtle ripples of cologne drifted from the fabric as you finally fell prey to sleep’s siren song.

“Sleep well, sweetpea,” lulled a sweet voice.

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dennou-translations · 4 years

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Violet Evergarden Booklet 1

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That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case.

Ann Magnolia and Her Nineteenth Birthday

There was a number of things I had to do on the special day called today.

I would wake up in the morning and check the weather. As if a tale were beginning, I would turn the curtains over and look outside the window.

The radiant daylight shone on my eyes. Today was sunny. Knowing that made me happy. That I had woken up enveloped in sunshine. That I didn’t have to worry about my letter getting drenched in rain. It was almost as if the truth of these facts was blessing the day.

——I’m happy.

Very happy.

I didn’t usually say this, but I felt like saying it today, so I whispered as I laid back down, “Good morning.”

Husky with wake, my voice echoed through the quiet bedroom. I wandered around in search for someone to have a conversation with from the words “good morning”. However, I couldn’t find anyone to hear them, so they pointlessly vanished somewhere.

If you were just by yourself, words would die as soon as they were born. I knew that as the truth of this world. Like flowers that withered without changing colors, like small birds that couldn’t endure the coldness of midwinter, my words would promptly die. After all, words were tools for people to communicate their intentions. So if there was no other party, they would all but die. That was evident.

There was no one who would reply to me with a “good morning”. There was no one in this house that would do a morning greeting, so if anyone were to say that this much was obvious, it sure was. But in my memories, someone whose voice I had already forgotten would return my words. In a warm and soft voice that was probably how my mother sounded, they would be returned to me.

“Good morning, Ann.”

——Good morning.

“Today is a special day, huh.”

——I know; I’d been counting them with my fingers.

“Your long-awaited birthday.”

With a nod, I stood up.

Today, I was turning nineteen. Twelve years had passed since I had been left all by myself when I was seven years old. I reflected thoroughly upon that reality alone and proudly.

I left my bedroom still wearing a negligee, heading to the spiral staircase. There were portraits hanging in rows from the staircase’s wall.

“My, you’re going outside dressed like this just because you’re at home?”

Decorated with pictures of family members, the wall used to be terrifying for me when I was a child, but it became less so after my mother was added to them. I would go up and down those stairs countless times every day, but the only spot that I would end up directing my gaze to for a few seconds was the portrait of my mother and my childhood self.

If, by any chance, there was strength to the thing called “love”, I thought, if there was a force residing within love, wouldn’t this image start moving one day, since it was the only one I looked at as if I were yearning for something?

I would end up embracing such fantasies.

“I won’t change, no matter how much you stare at me. By the way, doesn’t my complexion look a little bad in this portrait? I should have had more paint put over it.”

Of course, it was just a fabrication.

Having come down the stairs, I went to the front entrance, its door a little worn-out. I should call a repairer. The house was a living being just like me, and since it was already quite old, it was always broken somewhere.

“I also want you to tend to the garden. When was the last time you held a broom?”

As I came outside, I could see this place’s whole scenery. There was nothing but lush grassland and tree-lined roads. The idyllic sight was awfully boring, but above that, it was beautiful, so if you made a frame with your fingers, you would immediately have a scenic picture. In this entire area, there were no other houses in sight. Of course. This territory was under the control of the Magnolias, hence this view belonged to me, the family head.

As long as I didn’t sell or give it away, this landscape would never change. And, same as the previous family heads, I didn’t wish for it to change. Neither did I wish to leave this place. Even if I was all by myself.

“Ann, let’s take a look inside the mailbox.”

I took a look inside the mailbox. Perhaps because it was still early in the morning, there was nothing in it yet.

“It’ll surely be coming soon.”

Today was the day when I, Ann Magnolia, was born. Every year on my birthday, I would get letters from my late mother. Letters from my mother, who by now had become a portrait, would be delivered to me.

“There is no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

To be precise, letters with my mother’s feelings blown into them and ghostwritten by an Auto-Memories Doll would be delivered to me. It was a strange story, but a true one.

“Auto-Memories Doll”. Long had passed ever since this name caused a stir.

The creator was an authority in the field of mechanical dolls, Professor Orlando. His wife, Molly, was a novelist, and all had begun with the posterior loss of her eyesight. He then invented a machine to perform ghostwriting for his beloved wife and named it Auto-Memories Doll. Nowadays, people who worked as ghostwriters were also called Auto-Memories Dolls.

When I was seven, my mother, who was plagued with a serious illness, summoned a beautiful blue-eyed Auto-Memories Doll to our manor. She made her write several letters and hired a postal company to deliver them to me even after her death. She had been secretly planning out a few decades worth of birthday messages for her beloved daughter.

The person who had made this request was an oddball, but the ones who had accepted the job were quite odd themselves. Had they not imagined that someone would abandon it at some point? Had they sealed the contract for such a heavy, troublesome work without any refusal because they were horribly bad at their business, or was it because they were too nice? Having grown into a creditable lady and come to understand the world to a certain extent, I would ponder about such things. Surely, it was because they were nice. Thanks to them, even though I didn’t have a single relative now, at least on my birthday I could recall what being loved by someone felt like.

Just like that, I stood fidgety in front of the mailbox. Closing my eyes, I cleared off the dust on the box of my memories.

——I remember. That she had come around. That she would be over there, quietly writing letters. I remember the figure of that person and of my smiling mother. Surely, until I died...

That few-days’ time had been seared into my mind. Back then, my... Back then, Ann Magnolia’s frizzy hair was still short, and she was selfish and pretended to be taller. She was a helpless child. A very young one. How old she was? Seven years old. An age where one would still long for their mother. Her mother was the center of the world. If her mother died, she wouldn’t even be able to breathe. She was that kind of child. She was aware that her emotions were unstable and that she tended to act a little rashly.

Most people would treat someone like me nicely, and that was it. People who had their eyes on my fortune attempted to get close to me, but once they noticed that I had no intention to let them do so, they never showed their faces to me again.

That person—that person... Violet Evergarden. That Auto-Memories Doll was a bit different from other people, I thought...

Whenever I wondered what was so different about her, I would find myself thinking.

Back then, Ann Magnolia had fallen in love with a mysterious girl who had come around all of a sudden. It was a little girl’s romantic love out of adoration. She both hated and liked the Auto-Memories Doll who had come around out of the blue and stolen her time with her mother.

——What was it that I liked about her?

She was a taciturn and unsociable. A silent porcelain doll. She seemed extremely adult-like. But looking back, she often reacted like a child who knew nothing. Even when I gave her dolls, she didn’t know how to play. Neither did she have any knowledge of how to solve riddles. Even when I made her touch bugs, she never ran away like my mother or our maid. Whenever I invited her to join hands and spin around, we would do it to no end.

“Fufu...”

She was a weird person. Yes, a weird one.

Children would look at adults and measure them by whether they were scary or foolish, would be their allies or enemies, would give them candy or not, and other such things. They would stare very, very fixatedly and judge the grown-ups.

She... that beautiful Auto-Memories Doll... Violet Evergarden was not an adult.

——Yes, she was... how should I put it? She was Violet Evergarden.

Which was why I had snuggled up to her, the same type of person as myself, just like two cats nestling close to each other, I thought.

She was a beautiful child. A beautiful beast. I found her eccentric self to be cool, so I liked her.

Where was she now and what was she doing, I wondered.

I was turning nineteen, but back in the day, she must have been younger than I am now. For her to have prosthetic arms, it wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened to her at the time, when the war had just ended. But surely, there was no doubt that her life had been full of many more ups and downs than the story I had in mind.

Did she not express her emotions enough because she was carrying some sort of wound in her heart? She was such a beautiful person, so she must have won over the heart of some wonderful person by now...

I shook my head left and right. I mustn’t have unjust suspicions of her. I shouldn’t prod into how I was back then – into the Ann Magnolia of back then – and taint it. Even if it was just me with myself, I mustn’t do that. Because all of the joys and sorrows from that time belonged to the old me, who had endured those days. Having become an adult, I shouldn’t have any say over the mental landscape of my old self, as a third party.

Having grown up, I observed my own land, which spread out endlessly. The scent of gently swaying grass and flowers, the chattering of birds, the clouds that moved slowly in the blue sky. It felt like they would be here just like that for a hundred more years.

“It’s not coming, huh. Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Since the postman wasn’t showing up, I had no choice but go back into the manor.

I had been working at home lately. I used to go outside and enjoy the world when I was a student, but I realized that, in the end, I liked being in my house. Maybe this was a Magnolia bloodline thing.

As for my from-home job, I worked with legal counseling. When I was little, I had experienced disputes amongst my own relatives over me and my assets. That was the reason why, if I had to give any.

My mother had left me with a talented legal advisor. A person of outstanding character, who still concerned himself with me even now. As a young child, I excelled at catching insects that I had never seen before, but I didn’t have the means to oppose to the people who wanted to steal this land from me one way or another.

I had started off working at the city’s legal information center, introduced to me by the legal advisor, who had taken me in, and only recently had I become independent. Living in the city had made me realize many things. That there were many people in this world who weren’t protected like me. And that this wasn’t something those people themselves wanted, but things had turned out in such a way due to the environment they were in.

The ascension of the ghostwriting business had a similar background. Children would be made to work like adults, unable to go to school, so when they grew up and had to sign any documents, they couldn’t even write their own names.

People like that, who had been raised in environments where no one helped them, weren’t a rarity. I had heard that the literacy rate was currently rising, but it would still take a long time for this to become something unusual.

Just like with ghostwriting, one could become somebody’s ally through the law. It was especially necessary for children who had been thrown out like me and younglings who were about to enter the world of adults, I believed. Because they could earn completely different futures as a result if they acquired knowledge.

“The law is a weapon,” my legal advisor would say. I agreed with that. My property had been protected by this weapon many times. Some people would say that education was the weapon, but the situations for putting it to use were too limited. Weapons exerted their true value exactly when you had to protect yourself from falling victim to unjust acts or insults.

If possible, I wanted to be someone who could protect others. I wanted to tell people who didn’t know what to do and had become incapable of even walking on their own, “It’s all right; I’ll be your ally”. Because I wanted someone to do that for me back when I was alone.

My reason for choosing law was rooted in this kind of self-righteous way of thinking.

Since I worked from home, I didn’t earn much. To be honest, people would think that being a professional was a pastime for a landowning wealthy lady. I was fine with that.

The people who came to visit me in this remote place were generally in critical situations and had nothing. Those who had something would go to the city. They would go to the city, bow their heads to some famous person, be served a fine brand of tea... and have a graceful conversation while drinking it.

If I could, I wanted to get close to people, just like her. Just like the Auto-Memories Doll who had told me on that day that it was okay to cry. Even if for self-satisfaction.

Speaking of which, I thought as I checked the calendar. Today was my birthday, so I intended to wait for the postman the whole day and hadn’t scheduled any appointments, but a client was coming tomorrow. I should clean up the reception room at least a little.

“Hey, Ann. It is your birthday, so how about going outside with your friends and having a meal with them?”

I had to sweep the floor, take the garbage off the carpet and dust the dirt on the furniture.

“Even just eating something tasty is enough, Ann.”

Right, I should bake some sweets to serve to the costumer tomorrow. It could also be used as celebration for my birthday.

“Ann, aren’t you lonely all by yourself?”

If I was certain, that person had eaten the sweets I baked when we first met with relish. He had a sweet tooth.

As I recalled the figure of that young entrepreneur eating, looking embarrassed and delighted, a smile surfaced naturally. Out of the people that I was currently engaging with, he might be the one whose visit I looked forward to the most. I did think that men were frowny and sullen creatures, but he was adorable.

I rolled up my sleeves with an “all right” and headed to the kitchen.

“Delivery.”

As the front door’s bell rang and the voice of a visitor ensued, I frantically flung away my bowl and whisk and ran. This is what happens when you distractedly make sweets for about an hour. I was covered in flour and looking unbecoming, but there was no helping it.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

I opened the door in high spirits, and standing there was a postman wearing the uniform of the city’s post office, which I was familiar with. I was disappointed enough that even I myself would think it was a bit childish of me. The other didn’t see my facial expression as he requested my signature for the express delivery without looking at me, but I wound up having an impolite attitude.

——It wasn’t the CH Postal Company.

My mother’s birthday messages were being kept by the CH Postal Company, a mail company that had its main office located in Leiden – the capital of Leidenschaftlich, a southernmost military nation. Therefore, if a different company had come, then the mail wasn’t from my mother.

“Thank you very much.”

I had received three packages. One was a table clock from my legal advisor. The others were accessories and a shawl that were trending in the city from my friends.

There were people getting married and having children upon turning nineteen. All of my closest friends had been quick to marry. Both my opinion that secluding themselves in their homes was a waste in this era of professional women and my envy at the fact that they had found themselves a partner in an early stage of their lives coexisted in the depths of my mind.

“You don’t have to hurry; if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

Having lost my mother, with this vast land and this manor of excessively elegant exterior in my possession... I couldn’t think that having a family wouldn’t be a good thing.

——Family... family... family, huh?

Did I want a family? Did I really? Those genuine questions surfaced in my mind first-thing.

Welcoming a family would mean welcoming that person’s life. It was an extremely heavy choice. “In health and sickness,” people would lightheartedly say. I believed there were actually few people who properly understood it.

My friends who had married. The people who walked around the city. Lovers and family members from all over the world – everyone. Did they all truly understand? They only looked on the happy side, so could they endure it when a sad scenario arrived upon them? Wouldn’t they end up thinking that not loving the other person would have been better?

“Human beings are creatures that love others in pursuit of happiness, Ann.”

In my experience, since I had seen off the person who was most important to me, the truth was that I didn’t want to go through it ever again. Being told to do it one more time was too hard. Even twenty years later, painful things would be painful.

I brought my consciousness back to reality.

Colorful ribbons, extravagant wrappings and wonderful gifts. As my social disposition was coming to a slight halt, those people were irreplaceable to me. I had to write thank-you notes right away. For these kinds of things, the faster, the better. Because it conveyed sincerity.

I should go back to my bedroom and look for the stationery and envelopes. They were surely somewhere there.

“Ann.”

——Aah, but was it a pretty stationery?

Maybe I should choose a different one, fitting of these wonderful presents.

“Ann, listen.”

They were surely items that took a while to be picked, so I should respond to the other party’s feelings the same way. There were many things to be watchful of here. I had to do it quick. I had to do it soon.

“Please listen.”

Nobody else was going to do it; I was the one who had to. No matter what, I had to do it. I had to taste joy and sadness all by myself and end it fast. Because I was alone. Hurry. I had to hurry and do it.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t move.

“Ann.”

I was in the middle of making sweets, and writing thank-you notes required some preparation. Above all, I couldn’t calm down until my mother’s letter arrived.

Giving several reasons, I made up several excuses not to move.

“Ann... it’s okay.”

I suddenly felt exhausted. Everything became a bother. Even though hands were covered in flour and I was still wearing an apron, I lay on the couch, rolled into fetal position and scrunched down.

Although I had received such marvelous gifts, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. Even though it was something to be grateful for to the point I could be in a good mood the whole day, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. It didn’t last.

“Ann, it’s okay.”

Today was that kind of day.

“Ann, don’t force yourself; I’m sorry.”

——I’m sorry.

“Sorry...”

——I’m sorry.

“Ann, I’m sorry...”

To me, my birthday was...

“...for leaving you behind when you were so small.”

...not my day. It was my mother’s.

——Mom. Why? Just why? Why, Mom? Why did you die sooner than the mothers of the other kids? What is it that went wrong? Did the fact that I was born itself become a burden to you? If so, then I shouldn’t have been born.

I loved you, Mom. Did you know that? I liked you a whole, whole lot. Tired of hearing this? But you didn’t know it, right? Even if you knew, you probably didn’t understand how much I liked you. I’m sure you had no idea how much.

When I realized it, I had more time seeing you in a grave than otherwise. But you’re everywhere in our house. On the sofa that you often sat on. In the music that you enjoyed. On the bed that still smells like you. In myself, who resembles you more and more with each day.

Mom, Mom, Mom – you keep reminding me of how much I loved you. When I was little, you were the world itself.

Mom. You loved me. I know that. But I loved you too. I was the one who... I was... I was... I was the one who...

Aah, Mom. Mom, there are so many things I want to tell you. But if I can say it, there’s just one thing.

Mom, you died without knowing how much I loved you, right?

I loved you much more than you could’ve imagined. I really, really suffered when you died. Enough that I couldn’t breathe.

People often say that time heals all wounds. But I really hate that saying. Rather than things being solved, we forget about them, don’t we? People’s voices, facial expressions, gestures – we forget these kinds of things. Yet I remember them in unexpected times. Like, “Oh, yeah, Mom used to like this”. “Oh, yeah, Mom used to hate that”. And then I blame myself vehemently for forgetting them. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your whole world”. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your only family”. The loop of agony has no end.

I adored you, Mom. I loved you. I loved you, so for just as much love as I had for you, it feels like my heart will break. It feels like my heart will break every time my birthday comes around. Feels like it will break. It’s painful and there’s no helping it.

Tears slip down my cheeks as I laid on my side. I was looking forward to today so much that I didn’t know what to do with myself, and yet I wound up crying again this year. I would’ve been great if I could welcome it with a smile.

A birthday was a special day.

It was nothing to the rest of the world, just an ordinary day, but it was a special one for me. Because... Because it was a day when I could feel Mom coming back to me. I looked forward to it so much that I couldn’t help myself, but at the same time, I was also helplessly sad. Because I felt my mother’s absence more than anything. Because the truth that she wasn’t here was thrust onto me.

Destiny spoke to me. Either that or God did. “Hey, your mother’s already dead. How long you gonna be crying? Stand up. If you’re alive, stand up.”

Since the world was so merciless, all I could do was nod at those words and say, “Yes, yes, true.”

By entrusting my body to hecticness, I was able to remain as someone who could stand on her own feet, just like Destiny and God wanted. I normally didn’t feel loneliness. I didn’t cry. After all, twelve years had already passed. It was weird to cry like this on and on forever. It was weird, right? I wasn’t a kid anymore. I shouldn’t cry too much. That would make me a bad girl. A girl wasn’t suitable to be the family head of the Magnolia household. I had to become a person who my mother could be proud of from within that portrait.

Wasn’t that right? I couldn’t prove the worth of my existence by doing anything else.

But on this day when I was aware that my mother loved me, I was no good. No good. I’d turn into a mess. The seven-year-old Ann Magnolia would come back to me. She’d say it all. She’d end up saying it. Always, always, always. She’d say what I was holding back from saying.

“I’m lonely”, that is.

I had as many ways of spending my birthday as I had birthdays. Surely, there were millions of people in the world whose birthday was today. How were all of them spending it? Were they spending it in a fulfilling way? There definitely were also people who lived their lives either not knowing when their birthday was or forgetting about it.

So I wasn’t miserable. Nor was I comparing myself with them. That wasn’t it. Because there were certainly people somewhere around the world who were feeling as lonely as me.

There was another thing that I had learned during the time I worked in the city. That loneliness wasn’t something only I had. Many people would come to the law firm and ask for advice regarding their troubles. Everyone was burdened with problems of their own. And everyone was a bit lonely in some aspect. It wasn’t just me, so I didn’t feel lonely.

That person too, and that one, and that other one. Everybody was sad in one way or another.

“I have to get up.”

I had stopped doing what I would do by accident – stopped throwing myself into a sea of sadness. The sea of sadness in my head was a real nuisance, yet it was also comfortable as it enveloped my body in gentle waves of self-pity. But I shouldn’t go too far. Or else I wouldn’t be able to stand up again. It wasn’t like food and sweets would materialize from my sadness.

I counted the things I had to do. Bake sweets. Clean up. I had a number of torn aprons, which I would remake into rags. And then... And then...

“Madam Magnolia, are you home?”

A real-life happening immediately pulled me out of my reverie. I ran toward the front door, from where the voice had come. As I opened the door with much vigor while making extremely improper heavy-feet noises, I found two visitors.

“Hum?”

One of them was... Aah, I was waiting for you. It was a postman wearing the CH Postal Company uniform. He was holding under his arm a letter and a package with what was most likely the gift that my mother had arranged for today.

“Aah, excuse me. Please go first.”

The other was the customer who had made an appointment reservation for tomorrow. A stray young entrepreneur. His finely tailored clothes were easy to recognize as something not order-made and that he didn’t like but was wearing regardless.

Had he mistaken the appointment day?

“Erm, then...”

The two had bumped onto each other at the front gate and both had some business with me, so they were probably conceding the turn to one another. Having been granted it, the CH Postal Company’s postman stood before me, politely giving me the letter and present with a slightly tensed-up countenance.

“This is the CH Postal Company. I have come to bring your delivery... You might be already tired of hearing this vocal message so many times, but happy birthday this year too, Madam Magnolia.”

That was a postman I had never seen before. It was a different person from last year.

“T-Tired, you say... There’s no way I would ever be.”

Still, the fact he was saying these lines meant that the demands commissioned by my mother were being properly kept and protected by that company. That was it.

“Thank you very much. For every year, truly... truly. Please tell this to your chairman too.”

“Y-Yes! Our president is the kind of person that gets very happy at inputs from the clients, so I’ll make sure to tell him!”

I had never met the president of the CH Postal Company, but for someone so young to be talking about him in such a familiar-sounding way, he had to be a wonderful person.

“I’m taking it.”

I signed the acceptance document. The postman laughed as if relieved. Also relieved, I finally looked seriously at him. He was a very young postman. Perhaps from about the same generation as me. The freckled boy looked even younger when laughing.

“I became in charge of it this year. It’s a big area, so I ended up getting a bit lost... I made you wait a lot, didn’t I?”

“Eh, no, no.”

“But you came running as if you were eagerly waiting for it.”

“Yes.”

Recalling the surprised faces of the two young men the moment I had opened the door, I trembled with shame. I was supposed to behave elegant and beautifully as the head of the Magnolia family. Yet I was covered in flour, my hair was disheveled because I had been lying down and I had showed up with footsteps that sounded like the ones of a large man.

Touching my cheeks, which were most likely growing red, I said, “I apologize for showing you an embarrassing sight... No matter what, I always wind up restless on this day.”

“Absolutely not. I’m the one who is sorry for coming late. I have already perfectly memorized the way, so please treat me well next year too.” The postman bowed with a “well, then” and ran toward a parked motorcycle.

After seeing him off, I directed my gaze at the other visitor that had been waiting for me. He, too, slowly looked my way.

“Hello.”

The morning sunshine had disappeared, a dazzling midday light filling up for it. It seemed that quite some time had passed while I was sulking on the couch. With a season of fresh green colors as the background, he was supposed to be a foreign body for me... and for this world of mine, yet he blended appallingly well into it.

“Hello.” My voice sounded a little shrill. “Isn’t there any flour on my face?” As I said this while rubbing my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress, he took a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to me.

Not minding me as I stiffened up in shock, he said with an earnest attitude, “There is, right here.”

“Ah, all right.”

“And here too.”

“I’m sorry. I was making sweets...”

Wiping myself with the neatly folded handkerchief, it almost seemed like I had gone back to being a child. It was the second time today that my cheeks were dyed red.

“Well, what is your matter...?”

“Aah, that’s right. I was nearby and... hum, I heard from Mr. Robert, the one who introduced you to me, that it was your birthday today, so... though it’s presumptuous of me, I was thinking about celebrating it...”

Robert was the law advisor who had been protecting me since my childhood. Now that he had mentioned it, I remembered that he was introduced to me by Robert. The budget wasn’t compatible with the case, so it had been passed over to me.

——“Nearby”?

Finding a strange point in a part of his story, I said timidly, “This whole area... is my land... You had business near here?”

Silence.

“You’re also seeing Mr. Robert even though you’re working with me...?”

He raised a hand my way as if to ask me to wait and averted his face, looking embarrassed. Had I said anything bad?

“I take it back.”

“All right.”

“I lied... I wanted, hum, to spend time with you somehow...”

“Haah...”

Perhaps having become unable to look at me in the eyes, he kept his face turned away and continued speaking to the direction of the day after tomorrow, “Mr. Robert is a teatime friend from a café that I already frequented... He introduced you to me as a favor... And I heard from him the other day that today was your birthday. Also, I did not just happen to come nearby. It’s impossible to come here without a car or carriage. I do not have much money, so I ended up walking the way here. But it was no coincidence; I came here because I had an objective.”

As I asked, “What’s the objective”, he turned over the palm that had been telling me to wait and showed it to me. That “it’s you”.

I was perplexed. This kind of thing hadn’t happened in my life very often. When it did, it was usually people aiming for my fortune, so I vaguely wondered if he was the same as them.

“Want to come in? If it’s just drinking tea together, then...”

In any case, as the head of the Magnolia family, I had to entertain the guest. After this thought worked its way to me, an alarm sounded in my head that he might deem this as an invitation. That wasn’t my intention, so what should I do if he believed it was?

——What’s up with me? I don’t know if I’m happy or scared.

Aah, my heartbeats were so loud. My cheeks were so hot it felt like they were burning.

——Anyway, I have to say something.

“Hum.”

As I hesitated to speak, he shook his head. “Ah, no. I will have to come again tomorrow, so I’m going home. I have already accomplished my objective.”

“Is that so?” I was a tad out of tune. A little – very relieved.

I observed him while he didn’t try to look at me even a bit. His hands were trembling. Even though he gave off an easygoing impression, he was the type of person who couldn’t hide what was inside.

“I really just came here because I wanted to wish you happy birthday. Just before coming, I hesitated a lot on whether to go today or not... I also don’t have... any presents worthy of a lady like you, so I wanted to at least say these words.”

That sentence surprised my already stunned self even more. “At least these words”, he said. Were there any words that could make his goodwill more obvious?

“I’m sorry. I should have at least arranged something for you, right? Really, a broke man like me showing up out of nowhere... I’m sorry...”

“No, I don’t want material things that much... I prefer this feeling of... wanting to celebrate because it’s my birthday... much more...”

The words cut off midway. What happened to me? Right now, pain and joy were squeezing my chest tightly. It was suffocating.

The easily perceivable love of this person in front of me, as well as his kindness, his sincerity and all these other soft and warm things were appearing in the lonely parts of me and causing me to feel dizzy.

“Ann, can you hear me?”

I had to regain my sanity; I would surely be sober again tomorrow. I shouldn’t open my heart so easily now.

“Ann, please, listen.”

Because the world was cruel. Even if I fell in love with him, sad things were bound to happen.

“Okay? If you’re listening...”

It might be a calculated love; he could just be pretending and was actually a horrible person.

No, I had to wonder about that. It was indeed true that he came the way here on foot. After all, his shoes were dirty with mud. There was grass sticking to it as if he gone through an animal trail.

“If you’re listening, grab onto it.”

Aah, Mom. From now on, I would surely keep questioning you over and over during times like these. Asking you questions in my mind. “Mom, is this correct? Is this the right path,” I would ask. Because you were the only one who had given me love without second intentions. So please, give me an answer.

“Believe in yourself, Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.”

I was sure that the vision of my mother had whispered this to me.

I reached out with my hand. I reached out and grabbed the hem of his jacket.

“I’m going to bake sweets now. Today is my birthday, but I don’t have any plans, so if you’d like, why don’t we eat the baked sweets together outside? I don’t need anything. If you’re going to give me something, then I want just a bit of time for us to celebrate my birthday together,” I told him.

“Thanks.” He was not unkind to my wheat flour-covered hand, grasping it while his face went bright red. “That’d be great,” he said three or so times. The phrase “I like sweet foods” was probably said five times.

I... I found it so funny that I laughed.

That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case. But I put in a little effort. I tried making it special on my own. From this point onward, I would definitely keep doing that. I would. I was all alone in this manor. But I was the most special girl in the world to a certain person. It was okay to indulge myself at least on my birthday. I thought this once again reading my mother’s letter later.

Ann, congratulations on your nineteenth birthday. I can’t imagine how you’re doing at nineteen years of age. I really wonder how you’re doing. Are you well? Aren’t you going hungry? I wonder if you became a wonderful lady. Aah, I want to see it. I truly wanted to see it. You have no idea how much I love you, do you? You see, Mom loves the nineteen-year-old you. I’ll love you even as you turn a hundred years old. I can’t tell you face-to-face, so I’m properly writing it here. I love you. No matter what anyone says, I love you. You have the right to be loved. My Ann, be free. My Ann, laugh with joy. My Ann, be happy. My Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.

—From Mom

“There’s no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

#violet evergarden #veedit #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #ann magnolia #clara magnolia #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation #violet evergarden booklet

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asphyxiateher · 3 years

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Only Monsters Come Out at Night *Chapter 8 Update*

Summary: Desdemona has a nightmare that sends her spiraling into the arms of her beloved mistresses but when she's turned away, she realizes that nightmare was a warning of what was to come. An unexpected family reunion finally makes Desdemona beg for death. A/N: Thank you to everyone who stuck it out with this story this far; I know the last chapter wasn't too exciting but as I played the Resident Evil remake on my switch, I was inspired to drum up a little more excitement with this chapter and the next few chapters to come, which will be the last!

There’s a long, dark corridor that is accompanied by the acquainted sound of silence outside of Desdemona’s door and the darkness seeping into the room is becoming too much to bear. It feels like she is dreaming but these days, her nightmares and her reality have blended in so well together that it’s become nearly indistinguishable to tell apart what’s actually happening to what she could be imagining. It’s terrifying. She shouldn’t have become accustomed to what she’s gotten comfortable around lately, especially with everything that’s happened ever since she had been taken to Lady Alcina’s castle. Desdemona feels the familiar hunger for company creep up on her as she sits against the wall on her bed with her legs crossed, a journal and pen in hand. Loneliness was something she was used to, something she begged for when socializing drained her of her energy but now it was like a stranger to her. She no longer liked the idea of being alone in this gigantic castle that was made for its vampiric inhabitants and the monstrosities that lingered every which way. The connection she unintentionally formed with Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela and was ultimately made stronger through their unusual ways of showing affection is suddenly severed and she can no longer sense them nearby. This was very troubling. Although she wasn’t feeling very well, a wave of nausea causing her to lose consciousness earlier, Desdemona summoned the strength to get out of bed. This desire to be around the wretched creatures that ruined her life both shocked and comforted her, the inner conflicting thoughts in her mind constantly pulling her in one direction over the other was exhausting but rationality had no place in House Dimitrescu. Her hands shook violently as she reached for the doorknob, her knees nearly going out when she dared to take a few cautious steps outside of her room. The grand designs of the castle were dulled by the strangeness of the dim lighting of every room. This was very unusual, what was going on? Beneath her, she could hear one of the sisters scream in agony while Lady Dimitrescu rages about the deaths of her daughters. No. It couldn’t be. They couldn’t be dead, she felt them nearby just a few minutes ago! How could this be possible? Panicking at the idea of losing her mistresses, Desdemona rushes down the polished stairwells of the castle. She can’t sense them, hear them, or feel them through their bond and her heart aches at the idea of having to go on without them. When she finally reaches the ground level, she finds Alcina looming over the corpse of an unknown intruder. Desdemona has always been afraid of Lady Dimitrescu, but for some unknown reason, she felt compelled to comfort her despite not knowing what was going on. She carefully approaches the statuesque woman and gently tugs at her sleeve, and when Alcina turns around and looks down at Desdemona, she gives out a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s you darling! This night has been dreadful, and I’m not certain at how you’ll take the news but let me assure you that I am so glad to see that at least you weren’t harmed in all of this. Let me show you who was responsible for the deaths of my daughters; together, you and I shall take vengeance against the human organization that was responsible for this.” Alcina declares as she wraps an arm around Desdemona, pulling her closer before turning her around to examine the corpse at their feet. Desdemona’s jaw drops at the sight of her own body laying on the floor nearly intact. Her skin was nearly flawless, save for the deep wounds inflicted upon her by Alcina. She lay there dead before her very eyes, her lifeless gray eyes reflecting a dark creature she could not recognize. Startled, Desdemona turns on her heel to find a mirror, and when she finds the nearest restroom, her hands grip the sink in front of her. She cannot recognize what she’s staring at but she knows it’s her reflection, just not what she expected at all. Instead of beautifully long flowing dark brown hair, she sees a matted mess of dark hair tangled in some sort of wild updo, cold, glowing yellow eyes and when she opens her mouth to scream at the sight, she coughs up blood. She goes into a brief coughing fit, and eventually she begins to throw up, but what comes out of her isn’t bile. Oh no, she threw up a sticky ball of insects and maggots glued to each other, the creatures clinging to each other in their frenzied movements. The sight alone is enough to wake Desdemona from her slumber. Desdemona wakes in a cold sweat, her heart hammering at the implications of what she’s become so she quickly examines herself. She runs to the nearest full body length mirror and she’s relieved that she sees herself in her nearly natural state. Bedraggled dark brown hair, terrified gray eyes and the occasional love bite and bruise left behind by the mistresses she’s bonded to. Her skin, while still tawny-brown, was starting to gray out but for the most part, she still seemed normal. What caught her attention in that moment, however, was the sound of Daniela’s laughter coming from downstairs in the dining room. Any logic and rational thought once again flees her mind as she’s comforted by the fact that her mistresses were still alive and well. That’s all that mattered to her and so she rushes out of her room to interrupt the important meeting that Bela had warned her not to interrupt. She didn’t care, she just needed to know that they were safe and sound. Without dressing up like she’s supposed to when she wanders around the castle unsupervised, she glides down the railing of the grand staircase as she follows the sound of a private conversation being had. Desdemona bursts into the living area, her heart rate picking up at the sight of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela all casually enjoying their special blend of blood wine with a guest she wasn’t familiar with. Bela is caught off guard at the sight of Desdemona waltzing into the meeting in a revealing nightgown but is even more thrown when the smaller girl practically lunges at her and wraps her arms around her. Cassandra looks a little miffed that Desdemona decided to greet her sister first but then she sees how quickly Bela is becoming agitated with the intrusion so she steps in and tries to peel Desdemona off of her. “Oh thank god you’re alright! I had the worst nightmare that you all were killed and there was nothing I could do about it -,” Desdemona begins but is quickly shushed when a hard slap to the face reminds her that they were not alone. “Desdemona, what the hell are you talking about? Of course we’re alright but what on earth are you doing here? I instructed you to stay in your room and mind your business, did I not?” Bela asks angrily as she shoves Desdemona away from her. Cassandra steadies her and throws her sister a knowing look, nodding off to the side as if to remind her that they were in the company of Donna Beneviento. Daniela merely looks amused and continues talking to Donna and Angie as if nothing unusual was happening. It was then that Desdemona realizes that they were indeed in the middle of an important conversation with the lord Bela wished to make a partner out of in either ousting Mother Miranda or finally bringing her a suitable host to revive her daughter. Desdemona looks ashamed and stares at her clenched fists, biting her tongue as Bela continues to give her a tongue lashing. “Look at you wandering around House Dimitrescu looking like a common whore without any dignity. I could have sworn my mother and I taught you better than this but nevertheless, you owe the lovely Donna Beneviento an apology. Once this meeting is over, we will go over what is distressing you. None of your concerns are more important than what is currently being discussed, I’m sorry to say.” Bela admonishes Desdemona before she turns to offer Donna a sincere apology. Donna, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in what Bela had to say as she observed the human standing quietly before her. It was a fascinating scene unfolding before her very eyes. “Oh ho ho, look at the poor girl, she’s ready to cry. What happened, Bela? Is she no longer your favorite?” Angie, the doll, said out loud as she giggled. “Lovers tend to have spats, but you wouldn’t know much about that, would you?” Bela growls, looking as though she were ready to strangle both the doll and the ventriloquist. Donna scoffs, shaking her head before settling on an equally irritating comment. “You mistreat your toys, they’re more than welcome to stay home with me and keep me company. I can promise you I’m more pleasant than your mistresses.” Donna replies quietly, her face hidden behind her veil but even Desdemona could hear the smugness in her tone. This time, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela pitch a fuss over the unnecessary comment and find themselves squabbling over a silly matter. Angie, the doll, is delighted and laughs maniacally when the sisters begin to fight with one another. Donna was clearly amused but said nothing as she continued to watch Desdemona fret over her actions in the background. Desdemona begins to shut out the banter as the remnants of her decaying mind makes its final stand in her mind. ‘Get out…while you still can…the opportunity won’t come again. They’re distracted, their mother is away…you can go home. Get help…please leave…please do it. For your sake, for Desmond’s sake, and for Veronica’s. Run away…while you still can.’ Desdemona blinks, her rational state of mind completely taking over for a moment before it slips into nothingness again. She turns to find the doll named, Angie, staring up at her while the ventriloquist responsible for the trickery, observes her from afar. Desdemona used to be frightened of dolls, especially of the porcelain collection her mother obtained from her grandmother but when she gives Angie a once-over, she finds that she isn’t crept out at all by the appearance of the doll but is comforted by both her and Donna’s presence. It was strange but with her life constantly taking a turn for the worse every other second of her life, she supposes she shouldn’t be surprised she’s taking a liking to the friends of her mistresses as well. “I apologize for the intrusion. I had a nightmare that I’ll eventually recover from, but I hope my childish antics didn’t embarrass you further, Bela. I’ll take my leave and I won’t bother you again.” Desdemona finally says almost robotically as she makes her way back to castle entrance. She’s ready to go back to her room when something terrifying happens. Her eardrums suddenly pop, an incessant buzzing sound following the sound of brief ringing. Desdemona cannot hear anyone or anything so when she looks up to see the mouths of Cassandra and Daniela moving as if they were speaking to her, she confirms the temporary loss of hearing. Panic grips her, her anxiety on the rise when the others notice the drastic change in behavior. She starts to scream when she feels her brain begin to throb in pain, as if a knife were slowly dividing her brain in half and it sends Desdemona running. She’s gripping her head as she runs into walls, end tables, statues, and portraits; nothing seems to stop her even though she has no idea where she’s going or how she’s even leading herself anywhere with the immense amount of pain she’s in. She still hears that incessant buzzing noise in her head and it’s driving her crazy. She can’t hear the girls call out to her in worry. The only thing that she can hear is the sound of something buzzing around inside of her. She remembers that Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra are not immune to the cold air during the winter and if this is the same bug that they seem to be made out of, maybe some fresh air will do her some good and kill whatever it is that’s inside of her. She thinks it’s a great idea; her mistresses, once they see her heading outside towards the gardens and vineyard, think otherwise. “Desdemona, no, don’t do this! Don’t go where we cannot follow, please!” Cassandra cries out to her, unable to go past the point of no return. The fresh, wintry cold air brings immediate relief to Desdemona as she pushes past the doors that led to Lady Dimitrescu’s enormous vineyard. Her ears pop again, the sound of the girls screaming for her to return to the castle can finally be heard and Desdemona feels good again. She chuckles to herself, thinking she overdramatized her pain but what she had just gone through was something she had never experienced prior. It was incredibly painful and there was no other way to describe it other than it felt like her brain was melting out of nowhere, the left and right side of her brain being divided by a painful knife. She thought she was going to die. When she glances up from where she had been doubled over in pain, she finds herself wishing that she did die from whatever kind of attack that was. Yes, she’s staring a Alcina’s glorious, infamous vineyard sprawled out beautifully before her and covered in snow but what she sees staring back at her from not so far away is an eerily familiar scarecrow. Desdemona hears that incessant buzzing noise in her head again as she slowly approaches the scarecrow, her breath growing heavy. Her eyes widen in complete shock when she recognizes the clothes that the scarecrow is wearing, but it isn’t just what it’s wearing that appalls Desdemona, it’s who it is. It was Desmond. They never told Desdemona what they did with his remains. Sure, they might have mentioned drinking his blood and devouring some of his flesh but that wasn’t the case at all. Here he was, skin stitched together and his beautiful curly hair clumped on top of what has to be his skull living in the afterlife as a scarecrow. They hollowed him out, dumping out his insides completely and disposing that mess in a way Desdemona no longer wanted to think about and turned him into this! Tears prickling in her eyes, a whole new fresh wave of pain consumes her entire being. She drops down to her knees again, feeling completely defeated as she takes in the immaculate detailing of how they put his flesh back together to make this monstrosity. The only thing that was missing was his eyes; otherwise, she was looking directly at her twin reincarnated. Her fingernails are beginning to frost over, the stinging cold making her feel as if she were dipped in a frozen pond and pulled back out again. None of that mattered to her. Her heart rate was beginning to slow down, the buzzing in her head growing more and more frantic but she can’t tear her eyes away from her dead twin. Her body can no longer tolerate the cold that it used to and the longer she stayed outside, she knew her body would begin to shut down. Maybe this was finally it for Desdemona, maybe this is the way she wanted to go out and reunite with her loved ones again. She just wanted it all to end because her life no longer mattered. She sees a rather large shadow approach her from behind and she knew that it was too good to be true. She was so close yet death would continue to evade her. She struggles to turn her head, the ice buildup on her skin making it difficult to do so and finds a very displeased Alcina Dimitrescu staring down at her. “Looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and speed up your transformation, little one. Miranda is eager to find out if you’ll do or not.” With that said, Alcina raises her hand and long, sharp claws begin to form. Desdemona closes her eyes as she braces herself for death and when she feels something sharp puncture her chest, she blacks out completely.

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #RE Village #RE8 #mine #only monsters come out at night #chapter update #chapter 8 #Lady Dimitrescu's daughters x ofc #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x ofc #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x ofc #daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x ofc #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #donna beneviento #angie the doll

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ladyvader23 · 4 years

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Darth Vader, Master Hairstylist

This was inspired by @scuddington ‘s post HERE. I absolutely love Scud’s art, and this one just instantly inspired me!

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The first time Vader learned how important hair was to little children was the day Miss Laena took PTO in the morning for an important doctors appointment.

He figured he had this. It was just one morning. No big deal. The only difference was that this morning, he’d be the one getting the kids ready for school. That wasn’t hard. He was Darth Vader, Sith, destroyer of Jedi and Rebels alike, Commander of the Imperial Navy! He could handle school.

He scheduled his own meetings around the conflict, he’d warned the twins repeatedly that he needed them to cooperate, he’d made sure the night before that all was prepared. Bags, lunches, homework.

Too easy. Maybe he’d reconsider Miss Laena’s salary.

And the morning did begin smoothly. Until Leia came running to him with a brush in her hand.

“I gotta be pretty daddy!” She shoved the brush towards him. “Do my hair!”

Vader froze. He...knew nothing about hair. He knew his wife had been excellent at it. When had she begun to be interested in how she did her hair? He tried to think back, but he couldn’t remember a single time he’d seen her in public without perfectly styled tresses.

“You are a child. You do not need me to do your hair. Just brush it.”

That of course, offended Leia. She pouted and glared. “I’m a big girl daddy, and big girls have pretty hair!”

She literally forced the brush into his hand.

Well. He’d mastered the Force. How hard could hair be?

Famous last words.

First, he was apparently not gentle enough. He tried to comb the tangles that she’d acquired overnight, and each time he did she began screaming “OW!” and crying. Horrified, he decided to instead hide the tangles and figure them out later. He pulled her hair into what resembled a ponytail and stepped back. “There. Now you will be late for school. Let us leave.”

The hair wasn’t...exactly like it should be. It was crooked, and he wasn’t sure it was tight enough to stay in, but he didn’t want to hurt her further. And he was pretty sure she didn’t want him to try again, because she didn’t argue.

He forgot about the incident shortly after the kids were dropped off. Miss Laena came back shortly before the end of school. He was in their home’s personal conference room, doing assignments from home, when he heard the front door open and the telltale sound of children running through the home.

Miss Laena will take care of it. He thought, focusing back on his work…

Until he realized Leia was crying.

He hated it when she cried. Luke, he could deal with. But Leia? Absolutely not.

Shoving the datapad aside, he went to investigate.

“I’m ugly!” She was wailing when he entered the kitchen. Mis Laena was trying to comb Leia’s hair and having a hard time with it. “I’m ugly!!!”

“Who told you a ridiculous lie like that?!” Vader thundered. Leia was the image of his beloved wife. Both of them were more beautiful than all the stars of the galaxy.

But to his surprise, Leia wailed harder. “Everyone! My hair was ugly!!!”

“Your hair does not reflect how beautiful you are. Hair changes daily.”

Miss Laena winced. “Lord Vader...many children want to feel pretty when they go see their friends at school.”

“Leia is beautiful already. I do not see what the problem is.”

“...She is beautiful, but she may not feel that way when she doesn’t like her hair...and other kids might say something if it looks...different.”

“She is five.”

“Even five year olds want to feel pretty.”

Vader thought it was silly. Leia could have no hair and he’d find her just as perfect as she was with it. But judging on Leia’s reaction, she very much cared about how her hair looked.

It was something her mother should have done. Had she lived, he had no doubt Leia would never have a bad day...or even Luke for that matter (sometimes that boy needed to run a comb through his hair, if Vader was being honest with himself).

But Padme...was not there. And it was his fault for that.

So it was up to him to fix it.

First, he ordered practice manikin heads, the kind hairdressers used to practice. Then, he found online tutorials on the holonet. He watched them carefully, paying close attention to the stylists finger and brush movements. It was not unlike studying lightsaber technique. Both had a certain art to it.

He just needed to master it.

The first many attempts didn’t work as planned. Part of it was due to his cybernetics. They were...not made for the delicacy it took to style hair. The first few manikin heads ended up either with hair ripped out, or he’d grow so frustrated when he couldn’t get a braid right, that he’d throw the manakin off the balcony, where it fell into the lower levels of Coruscant below.

But he was determined. He would not fail in this task. He would not be so reliant on Miss Laena that he would ruin his daughter's day again like that.

He would be the master hairstylist.

It took months (and countless manikin heads) to get things to where he felt he could confidently and safely try working on Leia’s hair.

One morning, before school, he interrupted Miss Laena as she was about to help Leia get ready for school. “I have no need of your services when it comes to Leia.” He informed her confidently. “I will handle it from here.”

He did not miss the concern that flashed through the other woman, but she wisely did not say anything. “As you wish, My Lord.”

He entered Leia’s room. She was already dressed, though her hair, thankfully, was still a mess. “Where’s Miss Laena?” She asked, frowning when he was the only one there.

“I am here to fix your hair problem.” He announced confidently, spotting the brush and summoning it to his hand.

Leia did not hide her nervousness. “No, that’s okay daddy, I...I can have ugly hair today.”

“No. You will sit down and allow me to help you.”

“No--”

“If you do not let me help you, I will ground you from your dolls.” It was an unfair threat and he knew it...but he was a Sith. He’d spent an unsithly amount of time mastering the ways of the hairdresser. He was not about to let Leia stop him now.

Leia pouted, but sat down. “Be nice to my hair, daddy.” She warned as he approached, and he felt her genuine fear.

Carefully, he placed a hand on top of her head and smoothed her hair down in what he hoped was a soothing gesture...and began.

He first worked out the tangles. Carefully, in a way he knew wouldn’t hurt her. Once all the tangles were gone, he began to braid.

The trick, he found, was not to completely rely on his metal fingers. Doing so would result in failure. The trick was to use the Force for anything that was too delicate and precarious for his clumsy hands. With a mixture of the Force and his own now well-practiced hands, he managed to braid her hair into a crown.

He stepped back, satisfied. “You look like a princess.” He told her, and he meant it. It was hair that would make any royal princess jealous. He was fairly certain that Padme would have been quite proud of him had she seen it.

Leia looked in the mirror...and smiled. “Wow, daddy! You got good!”

“For you, my princess...though don’t tell anyone I did it.”

Having redeemed himself, he could have stopped there. He’d mastered enough to impress any five year old.

But he didn’t stop there.

Leia soon decided that she’d rather have him do her hair than Miss Laena (something he was secretly pleased about, though he’d never admit it). As she grew, so too did her tastes in hair. Occasionally, she’d be interested in a style he didn’t know how to do. But if she showed him what she wanted, he’d spend what little off time he had trying to figure it out. Once he’d mastered it, he’d try it out on her. Usually he was successful.

Soon, he began to savor the moments when it was just him and her. She’d sit on the chair, swinging her legs happily while he worked on her hair. Sometimes it felt like they didn’t share as many interests, but when he did her hair, it seemed like it was their own “thing.” It was unsithly, and his Master would absolutely have a heart attack if he ever found out, but he didn’t care.

Soon though, as Leia grew into a teenager, she began to need him less and less. But instead, their time together was replaced by him teaching her how to do her own hair. He’d always dreamed of teaching his children the ways of the Force, but with Sidious suspicious of that ever happening, he knew this would probably be the closest thing he could get for Leia.

For now.

One day, as Leia finished braiding her hair so that it looked like a blooming flower for a Imperial youth party, she paused. “You know. I’ve never told anyone you learned how to do hair.” She said.

“That is wise.” He tried not to think of what the media would say if they ever found out Darth Vader knew almost as much about hair as any professional hairstylist.

“Why? I mean. You’re...you.”

He looked at her for a long moment. She’d grown to be so beautiful, exactly like her mother. And he decided to be honest.

“Because your mother was not here to do it for you.” He replied. “I did not want you to miss out on that experience.”

Leia turned, taking him in for a moment. Then, with a smile, she reached out and gave him a rare hug.

He...allowed it. This time.

“Thanks dad.” She said. “You’re the best. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

He didn’t understand how him being good at hair made him the best…

But he’d accept it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I accept PROMPTS for this or any SW AU!

#Darth Vader #dad vader series #Dad vader #leia organa #little leia #my writing #sometimes he makes a good dad decision #fanfic #star wars fanfic #star wars

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silentlsworld · 3 years

Text

The Quarantine in the Year

Hello! A quick note before I get into it. A couple weeks ago, I saw a post asking about a fan fiction about our beloved Bones squad in quarantine and thought, why not?

Disclaimer: I do not own the original Bones characters, that is all HH. That said, please don’t duplicate or pass this off as your own. I would appreciate that my imagination and creativity be respected.

A/N: This is just a one shot right now. In the process of creating an AO3 profile and will post more frequent updates there. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy!

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“JACK HODGINS! Don’t you dare!”

“But Angie, you know that with the Mass Spec I have here, I’d be able to help break down the particulars, play around with some samples-”

“NO Jack! Uh-uh. NO. You are not bringing a deadly disease/virus into our home just so you can play Dr. Jekyll.”

“But-”

“No buts Jack. Uh-uh. Maybe when the Jeffersonian reopens you can get in contact with the Virology department at Georgetown. And even then! Even then, that is a hard maybe.” Angela shook her head walking away. Jack sat there in his wheelchair looking disgruntled but as he kept thinking, he realized his wife was right. Sighing in defeat, he rolled away going to find Michael Vincent and their daughter, Katherine Temperance. Hearing their giggles throughout the hallway, he figured they were in the media room watching reruns of the Flintstones.

Angela shook her head as she walked into the kitchen. Jack had some nerve and always managed to shake her up beyond belief sometimes. She picked up the phone with the intention of calling her best friend. It had been four months since she had seen Brennan and while she knew it was for the best to keep them, their families and everyone around them safe, she still missed her still socially awkward best friend and their girl time.

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Brennan walked into the kitchen absolutely drained. Christine and Hank had been at again and she had just about had enough of her children’s bickering. At just three years younger than his sister, Hank was even more energetic and had pent up, what Booth called, “chaotic energy”. He often found himself overwhelming his sister or getting them both in trouble. It was only 11 am but she went ahead and opened the cabinet pulled out the new bottle of wine Booth had bought yesterday when he went grocery shopping. Pouring herself a glass, she looked out the window above the sink. Booth was in the backyard working on setting up a tree house for the kids after they had spent an entire month begging for one. Christine so she could have a place to escape Hank for a bit and Hank so he could have his own ‘Ninja Turtle’ hideaway.

The phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, she smiled.

“Hey Ange, how’s it going?”

“Oh sweetie! I am going to kill my husband!” Angela exclaimed.

“Why? Not that you wouldn’t get away with it. I mean we both could get away with murder. However, judging from the last time you called and said Hodgins had been finding creative ways to sexually satisfy you even with the kids at home, I can only conclude that you are being sarcastic.”

Angela chuckled. God, she missed Bren so much.

“Yes, sweetie. I’m kidding but he was talking again about trying to contact one of his colleagues in the Virology department at Georgetown to try and get samples of the virus strain and poke and prod it with some tests. Says he could help figure out a vaccine.”

“Oh. He might Ange. But-”

“Bren not you too. It’s dangerous! And with Katherine being in and out the hospital right now-”

“I know Ange.” Brennan interrupted. “I was going to say that I understand your hesitance and fear. I understand it from both points but you’re right. Being in and out of a hospital right now does put you and Katherine at a higher risk of exposure. How is she by the way?”

“She’s hanging in there. The doctors have given her a special corrective glasses to help right now,” Angela sighed.

“They still don’t know if it is in fact LCA?” Brennan questioned. Her heart going out for her best friend. Metaphorically of course.

“No. That’s the thing, they don’t. They have no idea what it is and it-it… it’s just really frustrating sweetie.”

“I’m sorry Ange. I really am. I wish I could embrace you and be there for you during this time of extreme emotional distress.”

“You are sweetie. Just being here talking to me on the phone is enough for now. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m always going to be here supporting Ange. Always.”

Angela smiled as Brennan spoke. Her best friend had really come a long way. It felt like it was just yesterday she was forcing Bren out of the lab to go with her to a club and like fate, they had stumbled upon a dead body mummified within the club walls. She was just about to remind Brennan when she heard a shriek on the other line.

“MOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM HANK IS AT IT AGGAAAAAIIIIIIIINN! HANK NOOOOOOO!” Christine shouted so loudly Booth came tumbling inside, hammer still in hand.

“Ange, I’m sorry to cut this short but my children are being extremely difficult, and I swear I’m going to metaphorically explode if I have to separate them again.” Brennan huffed.

“It’s okay. Believe me, Hank and Christine are a duo and with both inside at the same time during quarantine. Let’s just say I’m glad I’m not you.” Angela joked trying to ease Brennan. It worked.

“Ha-ha I can imagine you are. I’ll call you back Ange. Tell Hodgins and the kids hello for me.”

“Will do. Bye Bren.”

“Bye Ange.”

“Bones.” Booth huffed confused. “What’s going on?”

“Our children have been very dedicated to breaking the laws of physics with their antics today Booth and I’ve just about had it trying to talk to them.”

Placing the hammer on the floor by the door, Booth walked over to his wife. He could see the energy had dissipated from her eyes and the half-drunk glass of wine on the counter confirmed it.

“Bones let me talk to them. Top off your glass and go take a bath. Take some time for yourself, I’ll deal with our tyrant children.”

“Booth, are you sure? They’re both the exact same level of cranky and intolerable now.”

“Yes. Go. I’m their father. The load to discipline doesn’t only fall on your shoulders.” Booth confirmed. Smiling Brennan hugged her husband giving a quick kiss.

“I’ll thank you later,” she smirked up at him. Booth chuckled as she quickly topped off her wine and grabbed the book that she had hastily discarded on the couch walking into their room.

“HANK!” Christine shriek filled the house again.

“Christine Angela Booth! You know how your mother feels about yelling the house.” Booth chastised his daughter walking down the hall to their room. He thought he would be dealing with another case of Hank either going through Christine’s journal or using her dolls as plungers. What he didn’t know was that he wouldn’t be prepared for the disaster he was about to walk into.

#Bones TV #bonesonfox #bones one shot #bones in quarantine #booth and brennan #angela montenegro #Jack Hodgins #coronavirus #bones tv one shots #booth family #fanfic #bones fanfiction

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blonde-weasley · 3 years

Text

As Long as They Were Together

Jane x Demetri fic

Also, my first fic that’s not on Wattpad since I was 11. Please leave nice constructive criticism 👍

Jane aged up to 18

The Volturi are nearing the end of tearing apart a newborn army, ya know, just their daily routine. Jane is off to the side, a newborn on her back and using her gift on another that’s giving Afton a rough time. She’s really struggling to keep her eyes on Afton’s newborn and yelling at him to just kill him; she can’t be everywhere at once. Her focus is torn away, much to her fellow guard’s dismay when a newborn that could give Felix a run for his money, sets his eyes on her. She quickly elbows the one behind her in the gut and karate chops his head off when he doubles over.

Jane turns around to get away from the big fella but, he’s already right behind her. He growls and throws the small girl up into the air where she goes flying. He runs to catch her and clasps his hand into a around her neck. The Hulk slams her into the dirt below her and she makes eye contact. He bellows out like Hulk Hogan and just squeezes harder, crackers start forming in her skin and it hurts so bad. She closes her eyes.

Thoughts race through her head. This is the end. Alec, you’ll can finally be the older twin. Aro, the father I never had. Caius, my advisor. Marcus, my advocate and who reminded me to not let the dark take over me. Felix, my favorite goofball. And Demetri. Oh, my sweet mate, Demetri. How I love you. You let me be myself and always were there for me. Please, feel free to move on. She begins to accept fate when the hand leaves her throat. Felix has come to her rescue.

The two very large men look like a wwe match. Felix finally gets his fair fight. Just tossing each other like rag dolls and getting up and going again. Felix loses his right hand. The Hulk loses his leg. Both have cracks on their remaining limbs. At last, Felix gets a good grip on The Hulk and yanks. The Hulk has lost his head.

Jane tries to sit up and catch her breath but her windpipe is cracked and pieces are missing. A gentle hand guides her back to the ground, the beautiful face of her beloved mate, Demetri. He smiles down at her when he sees her face but that quickly becomes worried when he sees her neck.

“Oh, tesoro!* Are you ok? I saw the end of that and we got here as quick as we could.” He was frantically checking every part of her body that he could. “I should have gotten here faster,” he continues. He begins to ramble and Jane tries to interrupt but, she discovers that she can’t speak! Her windpipe is missing! Her eyes widen in fear, she has to move fast if she wants to ever talk again. What will anyone do without her quick wit? She frantically starts grabbing a Demetri’s hands and slapping him to get his attention, also to get him to stop rambling. “What is it, caro? Oh! Your throat! Alec, Felix, Afton, and Chelsea are looking for it now. You just need to rest, you will be ok. I love you.”

Her heart melted. She grabbed his face and pulled it to her for a heart wrenching kiss. They both smiled into it, despite their circumstances, they were together. As long as they were together they were happy. Just then, her brother came running up with pale pieces of Jane. “I found them but this might be difficult. There’s a lot and they are small.”

The Masters came walking over to see what the issue was, how they hadn’t noticed, nobody knew. They all gasped, particularly Aro when they saw Jane in such peril. This has never happened in all her years. “May I have your hand, child?”, Aro asked her tentatively as he took her hand. His eyes fogged over as he read her thoughts and he looked frightened. Aro leaned down and ran a delicate hand over her face as a father would a daughter. “I am so sorry, my child. Let’s get putting you back together.”

Demetri moved out of the way and put Jane’s head in his lap. He let Marcus get to work. Marcus knelt to the ground to help begin piecing her back together; he is the best at puzzles after all. He moved as quickly as he could. He would put a piece down to see if it would fit and if it did, he’d lick it and put it in. Jane just kept her eyes to the sky because she knew if she looked at anyone else, she would break down.

After an agonizing 23 minutes and 42 seconds she is pieced together. She attempts to sit up but Alec puts a hand on her shoulder, “No, sister. Please do not over do it. I don’t know what I would do without you. We might have been too late.” He looks at her sadly and she nods her head and lays back down. Demetri runs his hand over her head soothingly. Jane then realizes that he hasn’t left her side this entire time.

“How do you feel? Can you speak?”

“Yeah. I saved your bitch ass. At least let it be worth it!” Felix looks down at Jane, trying to make her laugh.

Jane looks back up at him and says, “Took you long enough! Where were you?! The bank?!!” Felix snorts and everyone else bursts into laughter. Jane is back- almost. She looks around at the former battle ground to see the guard putting out the fires. They are done there, particularly she. “Can we go home now?”

Demetri nods and looks up at the Masters. They also nod. Demetri gently puts one arm under her legs and the other just below her shoulder blades. He gently rises so as to not hurt her. Felix approaches arms out ready to take her but backs off when Demetri growls at him and pulls Jane closer to his chest. Felix decides to stay close behind the couple, along with Alec. They set out on a run.

They enter the plane platform and walk up the steps. Felix and Alec run ahead of Demetri and Jane to clear off the couch for them. Alec sits down and grabs the shoulders of his sister to assist in setting her down more gently. Jane’s head ends up adjacent with his left thigh. He bends over and kisses Jane’s forehead. They’ve made it this far in life, together as siblings, twins even. They often joke that no one gets to kill twins but the twins. He hasn’t been this scared since they were burned at the stake. He gets up and walks away.

Felix grabs her hand and shakes it. He’s not too good at showing his emotions. Next comes Demetri. He sits in the floor next to her and leans his head on her chest. They just sit there in a comfortable silence for a minute as everyone else boards the plane. Out of respect, they all go to the back of the plane. Jane takes Demetri’s hand and begins to speak.

“I’m so sorry, my love.” She doesn’t meet his eyes as his red ones bore into hers. She continues, “I thought I was going to die. I was so scared. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have just took him on.”

He cuts her off. “Jane Love. You did what you have trained so thousands of years for. You saw what happened, even Felix had trouble with him. That newborn was as big as Felix.”

“I know,” she meets his eyes and kisses his hand. “I just can’t help feeling like I could have done more.”

He runs the hand not occupied by hers and runs it sets it on her head, running his thumb over her forehead over and over again. “I need you to know this. You did nothing wrong. You actually did everything just right. It’s ok to be scared. I was scared, too. I was so scared that I was going to lose you. You’re my best friend, my lover, my mate, my everything, my life. I can’t tell you how much I love you.”

If Jane could cry, she would. “Oh, Demetri. I love you so much.” She grabs his face and pulls it to hers for a kiss. He smirks as he kisses her back. It’s earth shattering. He pulls away because he’s still afraid of hurting her. He rests his forehead on hers and she kisses the tip of his knows.

“We’ll always have forever, my love.” Demetri leans forward and pecks her lips, smiling sweetly. She returns the same smile.

“Forever.”

#twilight #jane volturi #demetri volturi #jane x demetri #volturi #volturi guards #fanfic

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alirhi · 3 years

Text

chapter 25 FINALLY yeesh...

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 25/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. Notes: I kinda really hate that they gender-swapped Laufey in the MCU, so now I have to do the same with Farbauti. The main reason I have a problem with this is Loki's name – it was one of the very distinctive things about him. In a rigidly patriarchal society, Loki's surname is matrilineal. I don't know if Marvel misunderstood or changed it on purpose, but they basically erased a detail that makes Loki a feminist icon. Also, I'm drawing from actual Norse mythology again, a little.

"Whoa."

"Welcome home, Your Highness."

Hiding a smile at his lover's childlike wonder, Loki nodded cordially to Heimdall. "How have things been here?"

The Guardian of the Bifrost chuckled, watching Bucky wander slowly about the room. "Tense, as I'm sure you can imagine. Your wife and mother ask after you daily."

"And what do you tell them?"

"The bridge is rainbow!" Bucky was leaning against the far wall now, peeking out at the world beyond the open door. "It's actually rainbow! And super shiny... Is it as slick as it looks? That doesn't seem safe."

"He's adorable," Heimdall murmured, making Loki cough to mask his laughter. Clearing his throat, he returned to the topic at hand and told the Prince, "I tell them that you're well, and that your brother is aiding you in clearing your name so that you may return home."

Loki snorted. "Oh, is that what Thor is doing? When I left, he was playing cards with Stark, Banner, and Miss Potts."

"If it makes you feel any better, he's losing."

"It does, actually," he admitted with a grin. "A bit."

"This is Jotunheim?" Eyes hilariously wide and never settling on one thing for more than a second, Bucky approached them. "It's not as cold as I expected."

Loki chuckled and held his arm out, pleased when his beloved immediately cuddled up to his side. "No, darling. This is Asgard."

"Asgard?! I thought-"

"We can't linger," he explained, somewhat surprised by the melancholy ache in his heart at the thought. "Heimdall has been kind enough to agree to open the Bifrost to us; I didn't want to risk harming you by teleporting between worlds after how you reacted to being transported between continents on your own world."

"I appreciate that." Bucky glanced around again, the awe and curiosity in his big blue eyes reminding Loki vividly of their daughter. Eira truly did take after her father. "That's a lot of gold. Is that actual gold, or just paint?"

The Aesir and Jotun both opted not to answer him. While Loki fought not to laugh, Heimdall reached for the Bifrost sword and told him, "Be careful, Your Highness. This isn't a fight you can win with deception."

He sighed. "Wait a moment." While the Guardian smiled and dropped his hands, Loki stepped away from Bucky and turned to face him. "I'd better show you now so you aren't shocked when we arrive."

"Show me what, Doll?" The words were barely out of his mouth before it dropped open as he watched Loki's disguise fade away. Loki tensed, seeing the look of stunned disbelief on his lover's handsome face, but Bucky quickly came back to himself and laid his fears of rejection to rest. "How in the Hell did you just get more beautiful? Are those tattoos? Or... No, they're markings. Were you born with those? They're gorgeous!"

"Y-yes." He cleared his throat, glancing helplessly at Heimdall's fond, patient smile before returning his attention to his beloved. Immediate, enthusiastic acceptance was... not exactly the response he'd been expecting. "Yes, I suppose I was born with them."

Grinning, Bucky closed the gap between them and tugged Loki into his arms. "You look good. Ready to get this over with?"

With a soft, amazed chuckle, Loki hugged his love and kissed his scruffy cheek. "You are a wonder. And yes, let's get on with it. Heimdall?"

"Be well, my Prince." As he twisted the blade and opened the bridge again, Heimdall assured him with a smile, "I'll assure your wife that she's in your thoughts, and that she will see you again soon."

"It's nice that someone there is on your side-fuck it's cold!" Bucky cringed, rubbing his hands together as his lover snorted and conjured him some warmer gloves and another jacket. "After this, we take Eira to the Caribbean, yes?"

Laughing outright at that, Loki conjured him a hat, as well. "We'll see. Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll live." He held up his left hand, looking a bit perplexed. "You know this one doesn't feel anything, right?"

The Trickster shrugged, already turning and heading away from the Bifrost site. "Take the glove off, if you wish. Honestly, I'd forgotten it was metal."

"How? I could use it as a disco ball!"

"Well, if it isn't the little Princess."

Loki stopped, shifted to female form, and smirked. "Well, some of the time." Standing straight and doing her best to ignore the unnerving height difference, she stared the guard down. "I'm here for an audience with your Queen."

"Why do I doubt that she's expecting you?"

He was staring openly at her, taking in the fur-lined Asgardian armor, the diminutive stature, the blue skin marked with swirling designs... She allowed it; after all, she'd dropped the illusion that she was Aesir on purpose, to get their attention. Small or not, under Odin's magic and then her own, she was Jotun. She belonged in this frozen wasteland about as much as she belonged in Asgard.

For the moment, she chose to ignore what a low bar that was.

"I am Loki," she reminded him as she switched back to male form. He was perfectly comfortable either way, but as a man he was a little bit taller; still tiny for a Frost Giant, but he'd take what he could get. "Son of Laufey and rightful King of Jotunheim."

The guard smirked. "King Helblindi will be quite surprised to hear that."

Loki stalled out for a moment, stunned. He'd forgotten that he actually had biological brothers, not just a very annoying adoptive one. No wonder he'd been cast aside; his father had other sons to replace the worthless runt.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned. Bucky's wide blue eyes were locked on the guard, who the flustered Prince had just belatedly recognized as his other brother, Býleistr. Visibly steeling himself for a confrontation, Bucky sucked in a deep breath and addressed their amused audience.

"Prince Loki is used to having to boast and take an offensive position to be heard. I'm sure you're familiar with Odin and his unending pomposity?" Grinning when Býleistr chuckled, he continued sweetly, "Obviously, your people are much more refined; couldn't you look past his boorish Asgardian upbringing and see that he only wants to talk to his family?"

Laughing red eyes drifted from Bucky to Loki, and Býleistr nodded. "I like this one, little brother. Very diplomatic, for a Midgardian. Come. I'm sure Mother would like to see you."

As he turned and walked away, Loki paused to gape at his lover. Bucky was lightly bouncing on his toes, though Loki wasn't sure if it was from pride or cold. Just in case, he conjured him a warmer coat and a scarf. "You truly are a wonder, James!"

"Hey, I listen when you talk!" he teased, prodding him lightly until they were both moving, hurrying after Býleistr. "I know what a total asshole Odin is. Seemed a safe bet that the people he's been oppressing for centuries would agree that he sucks."

Loki chuckled, draping an arm over the other man's broad shoulders. "I did tell you that you're brilliant. I love being proven right."

___________________________________________________ Next Masterlist

#fanfiction #loki #bucky barnes #winter's frost #mcu #avengers #thor #captain america #winter soldier #m/m #loki/bucky #sebastian stan #tom hiddleston #heimdall #idris elba

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alexhogh7137 · 3 years

Text

The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty *this is the longest chapter I have ever written! So make sure you bring your snacks and strap yourself in;)*

Word Count: over 6k

Warning: sex without consent, smut, fluff and heavy angst

You did not get much sleep on that night and neither did your beloved. His heart rate did not lower as the hours progressed. His jaw stayed clenched at the thought of his friend's attempt to kiss you. You are very beautiful, he gives him that, but that gives him no right to kiss his wife. He would never do that to Katya, so why would he do this to him? Oh, that is right. Him and Katya shared a kiss on that one night before the battle to win Kattegat back from his brother Bjorn. But how could Prince Oleg know? He pondered that question in his head over and over again. The only possible reason for him to do such a thing is because he found out about him and Katya's quick moment. She must have told him, or someone else did but he was not stupid enough to ask such a question. So he stayed still as he watched your eyelids struggle to stay closed. He knew that you were not sleeping either, but still, he held you in his arms and never let you go. And he made sure that his ax was by his bed and his dagger was on his waistband. He was not letting anyone touch you, or harm you in any way, shape, or form. You are his and his alone. If Prince Oleg thought differently, he has another thing coming for him, that is certain.

Soon enough, the sunshine crept its way through the windows of your chambers and Ivar lifted both of your bodies up from the warm pillows. You both sigh from the lack of sleep but he knew from the look on your face that you are struggling more than him. With you being several months pregnant, you need the sleep for both you and the baby.

Ivar "Sweetheart, you did not sleep at all?" You shake your head no, "Why? I was not going to let anyone-"

"I know, I know.."

Ivar "So why did you not sleep, hmm?" He places stray hairs behind your ears.

"Just an unnerving feeling. I don't like perverted men, Ivar. I thought that he was your friend."

Ivar "He is."

"Friends do not try to get their friend's wives into their bed, Ivar. He even offered!"

Ivar "I am aware Y/n. I will take care of this."

"If Hvitserk hasn't done that already." You snapped.

Ivar snickers, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Hvitserk stopped him last night Ivar, that is what I meant."

Ivar "You-do not sit here and tell me that I never save you, that I never protect you! I am your king! I am your husband! Treat me like it huh?!" You laugh at his reaction. But it made you think: has Ivar ever saved you? Has he ever helped you? Helped you, oh absolutely! Saved you, no. Hvitserk has always been the one to save you. Hell, you were taken from your own home while Ivar slept beside you. So you laugh and get out of bed.

Ivar "And where do you think you are going?"

"I need to stretch my legs..beloved." You put on a fur blanket around your arms and chest to cover yourself up a bit before leaving the room. You had to walk away from Ivar, or else it would be a fight and you did not wish to have one with Ivar. It is useless. You would both feel like they're right so what is the point? It would only bring on a migraine, to which you already have one from the lack of sleep. Ivar just watches you leave and puts his head into the palms of his hands at the realization that you are absolutely right. Hvitserk was there for you last night..he was not. Hvitserk seems to always be there when you need him the most, but it should be the other way around and that makes Ivar feel like a horrible husband and king. He will never forgive himself for that night, because he could have stopped King Harald.

Ivar "What can I do?" He whispered to himself as he looked at the door his wife just left.

…

You meet Katya in the hallway and she stops you out of concern from the look on your face and the dark circles.

Katya "Oh darling, are you alright?"

"Oh yes, I am fine. Thank you."

Katya "Do not lie, there is no need for that, Y/n. I know that I met you yesterday but I have grown to like you. I am here for you, woman to woman, queen to queen..are you alright?"

"Just very tired. This baby is becoming too big for my body." You force a laugh because it was a lie. Your belly is very large but nothing that you cannot handle. You just did not feel like talking at the moment.

Katya "Oh, alright then. Could I do anything? Run you a bath, perhaps?"

"Oh that is too kind, but no thank you. I am actually going to go out for a walk-"

Ivar "Not without me, I hope." He says as he comes up from behind you. You look at him and then back at Katya. Her smile quickly fades when she sees that your smile is obviously not sincere.

"Of course, my love. You can walk with me." He smiles.

Ivar "Good morning, Princess. How was your night?"

Katya "It was fine, thank you for asking. And yours?"

Ivar "Just as fine, thank you. Now, If you'll excuse us."

Katya "Of course." She moves out of the way and lets the both of you pass her in the hallway. She can tell that something is off but she doesn't not know what.

Once you and Ivar are out of the doors of Prince Oleg's kingdom, he opens his mouth.

Ivar "I am sorry." You do not respond. "You do not accept my apology?"

"What exactly are you apologizing for, Ivar?"

Ivar "For not saving you, like I promised. I did not save you on-"

"We've gone over that millions of times, I forgive you."

Ivar "And I am sorry for not being there last night. I sensed something was..wrong when it took you so long. But I ignored my own thoughts. And I shouldn't have. I am sorry."

You nod, "Thank you. And I forgive you." He walks closer to you and kisses you on the forehead.

Ivar "I love you Y/n. I love you more than everything."

"I know. And I love you too-"

Prince Oleg "Ah, there you two are! Good morning!" You jolt when you hear his voice and you walk a few paces backwards.

Ivar "Mm, hello Oleg. Good morning."

Prince Oleg "What is the matter?! You two seem so down on this bright and lovely day."

"No sleep."

Prince Oleg "Oh, that is a shame. Was it the bed-"

Ivar "No, not at all. It was someone's actions that made the both of us uneasy." He says with direct eye contact, making Prince Oleg take a step back.

Prince Oleg "Oh, well..today is a new day. New beginnings! So, in celebration of your return..I have arranged a little play to be had in my front field, in a few hours."

"And what does this play entail?"

Prince Oleg "Uh uh uhh, that will be discovered when you arrive."

Ivar "We will be there.."

Prince Oleg "Wonderful. I will see you two very soon." He says as he pats Ivar on his shoulder and walks in the opposite direction. You look at Ivae in shock.

"He does plays now?"

Ivar "He has a weird skit thing that he does..little Igor even have dolls that he uses for reenactments."

"Wonderful. Why did you fail to tell me how Oleg really is, hmm?"

Ivar "I did tell you."

"All of the good things, but none of his strange tendencies."

Ivar "If you do not like him, why don't you leave? You are a queen, you can come and go as you please. If you do not like Prince Oleg, you can go home to Kattegat."

"I know that you do not mean that Ivar. So I am not going to take that to heart. But if you do not take care of what happened last night, and not take responsibility and accountability for me, I will be taking Ryuu and I will be gone within an hour. Do you understand me?" He smirks and chuckles a bit but then his eyes start to fill with tears. He does not speak, he only nods 'yes' and you walk away from him yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hvitserk finds you sitting on the balcony, talking to the daughter in your belly and he stands there for only a moment, to admire you. You catch him and open your arms for him to hug you. You need his comfort after the long night and the argumentative morning that you have been having.

Hvitserk hums once you are in his arms and you just inhale his scent that engulfs your senses and warms your soul.

Hvitserk "I've got you." He says as he rubs small circles around the small of your back and you smile.

"How did you sleep?" You say as he lets go.

Hvitserk "Not even a single hour..and you?"

"Notta.." you both laugh at the deliriousness.

Hvitserk "I just sat in the doorway and kept an eye on your room. I didn't like what happened last night."

"You did that?"

Hvitserk "Of course I did."

"You did not have too, Ivar slept with his-"

Hvitserk "Dagger. Yeah, he always does. Ever since that night, he always sleeps with it on him.. or next to him. But, a dagger is useless if you do not wake up in enough time to use it, aye?"

You nod, "Yeah, I guess you are right."

Hvitserk "What is on your mind, kitten."

"I am just looking forward to going home. Ivar and I have been arguing all morning."

Hvitserk "I figured that. But it is normal..it is okay to have arguments. It is okay to have outbursts and tiffs..but you fight with love. It's never anger, it is out of love."

"That is a great way to put it, Hvitserk. I will have to remember that."

Hvitserk "So, what were you telling our little angel in there?" He says as he places his hands over your belly.

"Ohh, just a lullaby."

Hvitserk "Sing it to me." He smiles once you smile and he lies his head on your belly as you sing it to him. You fiddle with his braids as you sing and he rubs your belly for you. And occasionally kisses it, making you giggle because it tickles you.

Hvitserk "You aren't ticklish there when we are in bed-" your jaw drops and you smack his arm playfully, making him burst out laughing. "I am not wrong."

"I know but shush, come back and let me finish my lullaby." He complies and you sing until the very end. Once it ends, he leans up and kisses you before helping you up from the lounge chair.

Hvitserk "That was beautiful, princess."

"You think she heard it?"

Hvitserk "Of course she did. And she smiled, but we cannot see that yet."

"Hmm. Prince Oleg has a play..it is supposed to start in a hour or so."

Hvitserk "Ah yes, I remember his plays. They are quite interesting."

"Help me pick out a dress, will you?"

Hvitserk "It would be my pleasure." You walk back into the home and he helps you pick out a beautiful white dress for the scheduled play. Today is going to be a warm day which excites you and Hvitserk. Because your little one is going to be born in the summer season!

Ivar thinks long and hard on how he is going to confront Prince Oleg without it becoming a huge fight and someone ending up hurt or worse. Having two ill-tempered kings is not a good mix but somehow, they are friends? Nonetheless, he found Prince Oleg talking to a few of his people, trying to prep them for the play when Ivar interrupts him.

Ivar "We need to have a little talk, Prince Oleg."

Prince Oleg "Can it wait?"

Ivar "No, I'm afraid it is urgent." Prince Oleg looks at his people, whispered a few words and then they left Ivar and him to talk in private.

Prince Oleg "What is it, my friend?"

Ivar "It has come to my knowledge that you made advances to my wife, last night."

Prince Oleg "And who told you that?"

Ivar "My wife!"

Prince Oleg "And you believe everything that woman tells you?"

Ivar "Of course I do. I love her and she loves me-"

Prince Oleg "Ohh, poor Ivar..so nai-"

Ivar "I am telling you right now, if you do not keep your hands and your perverted mouth away from my wife, you are asking for a war. Do you understand me, huh?!" Ivar was not going to allow this man to twist his marriage when he was in the wrong. So he shouted that, for his people to overhear and they began to stare. That made Prince Oleg feel the pressure and realize that he needs to agree or he would be having a war in a few days time.

Prince Oleg starts to laugh out of shock and nervousness, "Okay, okay..I heard you Ivar the Boneless."

Ivar "Have I made myself clear, my friend? She is mine and mine alone. She is not a slave nor is she going to be your play-thing...understood?"

Prince Oleg sighs, "But she is-" Ivar takes out his dagger and places it to Oleg's throat. Specifically, right on his vein that would kill him in a matter of seconds if cut.

Ivar "If you want to play this game, Prince Oleg...would you like to die by my blade.. or by dragon?" Prince Oleg stammers and looks at the massive creature that is licking his lips as he stares at the man that his father has a blade to.

Prince Oleg "Oka-okay! We have an understanding! I am sorry, just get off of me!" Ivar backs off and puts his blade in his waistband.

Ivar "Good. Now, go on and finish getting your people ready for this play of yours. Wouldn't want to displease us, now would you? You have already been so rude to your guest, wouldn't want-"

Prince Oleg "She will love the play, I am sure of it."

Ivar "Good, that is good huh?!" He playfully hits Oleg on the shoulder.

Prince Oleg "Of course. I sincerely apologize Ivar.."

Ivar "Good. After the play or before..you can apologize to the woman that you treated with disrespect. And see if she accepts your apology." He walks away before Oleg has the chance to respond. Leaving him out of breath from that shock of fear, it was startling to say the least. He looks at Ivar and back at Ryuu who is still gawking at him with his fangs out. Prince Oleg hurries his way to his people and pretends like nothing happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you are finished getting ready with Hvitserk, Ivar is coming into the doors of the palace. Katya is goofing around with Igor in the foyer. She smiles when she sees you walking in the room.

Katya "Well, don't you look gorgeous!"

"Thank you, beautiful! So are you." She thanks you and gives you a quick hug while Hvitserk walks up to Ivar.

Hvitserk "Did you make it clear?"

Ivar "Of course I did, my brother. "

Hvitserk "What did you tell him?"

Ivar "Ahh let's just say, it was either he died by my blade or by Y/n's dragon so he apologized." They both burst out laughing, making you and Katya look in their direction.

Katya "What is it?"

Ivar "Oh I just scared your husband a little bit..!"

Katya "Oh, of course you did. You can't help yourself, can you?"

Ivar "He deserved it."

Katya "What did he do and what did you do?" Ivar crutches his way over to Katya and looks down at you and then back at her.

Ivar "Your husband tried to touch and kiss my wife." She looks at you and you look down. That is all the confirmation that she needed. "So I told your husband to stop his perverted attempts at getting with my pregnant wife or me or Y/n's dragon will take care of him for his actions."

Katya "Y/n I-I am so sorry! I had no idea-"

"Katya it is okay."

Katya "It is not okay. You are now my friend and I care for you. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just wanted to forget about it, to tell you the complete truth. I have been through a lot in my life and I am used to that behavior..so I am fine, trust me."

Katya "What do you mean? How could one get used to that?"

Hvitserk "Alright, let's go outside and enjoy this weather..shall we?"

"Mm, yes. Ivar, is it warm out yet?"

Ivar "It is warming up, my love."

"Good! Let's go then-"

Igor "Are you alright?" You look down at the young man and you place your hand on his shoulder, and smile down at him.

"I am now, thank you for asking. Hey," you crouch to his level, "how would you like to pet a dragon?"

Igor "I can pet him?"

"Mhm. He is very kind and very gentle."

Igor "Then I would love to!"

"Okay, let's go see him then." He takes your hand and you thank Ivar with your eyes and he smiles at you with pure love.

Hvitserk "Let's join her." Katya and Ivar nod and walk after you. Katya is in shock that her husband did that and she had no idea of that even occurring. Normally, he would brag about it to Katya to make her feel worthless but not last night. This was news to her and sad news at that. She has grown fond of you so to know that that happened, angers and saddens her. But thankfully, Ivar took care of it. He saved you. This time, he saved you.

…

Igor spent a good long while with Ryuu: bonding with him, pet his scales, he even got to hug his leg! He thanked you for that opportunity and hugged you for what felt like an eternity. A hug from a child or in this case, a young man, is a hug like no other. It brings you a joy that does not come from an adult or an elder. It makes you feel so good about yourself and it makes you feel a sense of adoration that no other age can offer. Hvitserk and Ivar watched as Igor clung to your waist with smiles on their faces. Knowing how wonderful of a mother you are going to be.

Katya "Alright, young Prince..let her breathe now.."

Igor "Oop, sorry!"

"No need to be sorry! I love your hugs!" He smiles and you kiss Ryuu's snout as a 'good boy' because Igor and Katya do not know that you can communicate with your dragon(s). So with that kiss, he knew that he was a good boy. Then suddenly, a bell was rung and everyone was meant to gather around to watch the play.

Igor "Bye Ryuu!" He said as he ran to the front yard. You all giggle at how cute that whole encounter was.

Katya "How did you train him to be so..tamed?"

"I raised him. I got him along with two of his siblings. They were given to me for my 20th birthday. Ever since then, I have raised them and cared for them. Along with Ivar and Hvitserk."

Katya "You raised dragons?" She looked at Ivar.

Ivar chuckles, "She is giving me too much credit. When I met them, they were very little, but not quite babies. I simply helped feed them and cared for them. Y/n did all of the hard stuff."

Katya nods, "Well, you are an incredible woman Y/n. You should be proud of all of your achievements."

"Thank you, Katya. That means a lot to me." She smiles and she continues to walk with the three of us to the front yard to join the people of Kiev.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the play began, everything was normal and simple. Very complex and artistic play that was very amusing. That is until Prince Oleg called his wife down to join him for a skit. She hesitated for a minute and then gave into his need because he gave her the 'look'.

"Oh gods, what is he going to do to her?"

Ivar "Nothing bad, I am sure of it."

"If he starts, he is going to become ashes.."

Hvitserk "Shh, kitten. He's not going to hurt his own wife." Ivar looks at him and then he remembers that Oleg killed his first wife. One of the reasons why him and Ivar bonded was because Ivar did the same thing and Prince Oleg admired that, for some sickening reason that Hvitserk could never comprehend.

Hvitserk "Nevermind..just relax Y/n. Katya is strong, like you. She can handle her own." You don't respond, you only keep an eye on her and his movements.

Prince Oleg began to talk his nonsense and started to dance with her. It was sort of beautiful to watch two lovers dance before your eyes. Your nerves calmed down quite a bit, however, that was only for a split second. Prince Oleg switched like a light switch on a wall, and pinned her to the ground. You look over at Ivar and he does not move, his emotions just change.

Hvitserk "What the hell.." Hvitserk could not finish before Prince Oleg undressed his wife in front of everyone in Kiev and used her to please himself. You had to get up and walk away because she was screaming in agony, not ecstacy. Hvitserk follows you but Ivar stays to watch.

Hvitserk "Are you alright?"

"Flashbacks..I'll be fine I just need to catch my breath."

Hvitserk "Hey, shh shh shh..I've got you." He holds you close and walks you far enough away from the yard to where you could not hear Katya no longer.

"I want to kill that man."

Hvitserk "You cannot kill him, Y/n. If you could, I would help you..but we cannot."

"He deserves it after what he is doing to her. He is humiliating her, torturing her, using her-"

Hvitserk "I kn-"

"How can I stand there and watch a woman go through what I went through? What can I do to help her?"

Hvitserk "I do not know, kitten. He is the king-"

"And I am a queen."

Hvitserk "Yes you are, but you are not in Kattegat. You are in his kingdom."

"His kingdom..we'll see about that." You push your way through Hvitserk and rush your way through the crowd that is dancing around Prince Oleg and Katya. He is still using her when you push him off of her. When he is on the ground, you help your friend off of the ground and hurriedly get her covered up. When she is covered up, she punches her husband so hard in the mouth that his lip spits. You pull her back and she just bursts out crying on your arms, almost pushing you over because you are so off-balance being as pregnant as you are.

Prince Oleg "How dare you defy me?!"

"How dare you do this to your wife?! How dare you use her like your slave? How dare you humiliate her in front of her people? You should be ashamed of yourself." He is speechless. You walk her through the ground when all of a sudden, you hear women start to cheer for you. Cheering for your bravery and your strength to stand up for women like you did. When you look around you, you find Ivar standing up and clapping for you. He mouths, "I am so proud of you." You just smile and continue on walking Katya back to the palace.

…

When she gets in, she stops you and hugs you so tight that you can barely breathe. You just hold onto her as you ride out the emotions with her.

"I could not let him do that to you any longer. You did not deserve, nor will you ever deserve to be treated in such a way."

Katya "I am used to it. But this, this was the first."

"I am used to it as well."

Katya "Ivar-"

"No no, never Ivar. For a long time, it was my own father, then it was another king who took me from Kattegat and tortured me for many days. So yes, I know how you felt. How you feel right now."

Katya "What did you do?"

"Well, for a while, I just took it. But when I found Ivar, he gave me the strength to do what needed to be done."

Katya "Tell me what you did."

"The king that tortured me in my own father's dungeon...was burned to ashes as he stood. And for my father, well...he ended up with the same fate."

Katya "Oh my gods.."

"Men like them should not be allowed to continue."

Katya nods, "I will take care of him. When I am strong enough. But as of right now, I am in a lot of pain, I am going to take a shower. Y/n, thank you so much for what you did back there. I don't know how I could ever repay you."

"There is no need. I am glad that I was there to help you. Go on now, but remember to take it easy."

Katya "I will, I will see you when I can." You nod and when she is out of your sight, you walk your way to a chair that is the closest to you and collapse on it.

Ivar "My love, are you alright?" He shouts when he finds you sitting there.

"Fine, just fine."

Ivar "You always amaze me, my love. You are stronger than I am."

"I just stand up for what is right. I could not allow him-"

Prince Oleg "How dare you?!"

"Me? How dare you?" Hvitserk and Ivar stand in front of you to guard you from Prince Oleg.

Hvitserk "Back up!"

Prince Oleg "How dare you interrupt me!? I was almost finished, you know!"

"Ivar.."

Ivar takes a few steps forward and gets in Oleg's face, "I know why you did that to Katya, Prince Oleg."

Prince Oleg "Oh..?"

Ivar "You did not get my wife last night so you used your wife instead." He does not answer, only smirks. "I bet, you imagined fucking my wife..didn't you?" He chuckles, "That is all of the validation that I need. My love, we are leaving now."

"But Katya, how can I leave her?"

Ivar "I care about your life and your safety, not hers. We need to leave."

Hvitserk "Ivar is right."

"I need to say goodbye, keep him out of her room." They both nod and keep an eye on you as you rush into her room. She is still in the shower but you do not care. You hug her and whisper in her ear, "I have to go, my friend. I am not safe here any longer, but I need to tell you something. If you ever feel unsafe, please come to my home. You are always welcome and you are more than welcome to stay for as long as you need. Please, take up for yourself, dear friend..be safe."

Katya "Thank you, I will." You rush out and take your husband's hand and rush out of the palace.

Prince Oleg "Please do return soon! You are always welcome in my home, Y/n." Hvitserk helps you up on Ryuu and Ivar gets in his carriage.

Ivar "Do not expect to hear from me or any of us, ever again.."

Prince Oleg "Oh do not be like this, Ivar! You are my friend."

Ivar "I was, not anymore. You stay away from my family." He strikes his horse once Hvitserk is mounted on his horse and you lift off on Ryuu. Gladly heading home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The journey home felt like it took forever. Your energy is completely spent and your body hurts from the lack of sleep. All you can think about is being home with Ivar and Hvitserk and seeing Ubbe and Torvi. Then you realize that you were supposed to stay for a week! A week in that kingdom! All you know is that Ubbe is definitely going to ask questions but you are honestly dreading answering them. Hopefully Ivar will do the answering for you so that you can rest. Hvitserk can sense your exhaustion and just wants to make you feel better and at ease. Hopefully once you are home, you will feel ease.

Neith and Eldr fly up in the air to greet you and Ryuu. You swear that your dragons are just as needy as toddlers even though they are massive in size.

"Hi, my loves. You have been good, I hope." Ryuu lands and you use his wing to get down gently. Ubbe is already by your side as soon as you look up from the ground.

Ubbe "Hey sis..why are you-"

"Long story. Maybe ask Ivar or Hvitserk what all went down in Kiev but I am so glad to see you." He pulls you into his arms and holds you for what feels like hours. His brotherly love is what you missed and what you needed.

Ubbe "Are you alright? You seem sad, Y/n."

"I am just glad to be home, where is Torvi?"

Ubbe "She is inside, feeding the kids." Ivar and Hvitserk ride up and you hug Ubbe one more time before going inside to search for Torvi. Your people stop you of course, telling you that they are happy to see you but questioning why you are back so early. You inform them that everything is fine but we all just needed to come home. They did not question any further and let you get inside. You find Torvi in no time at all but her daughter runs to you first.

"Y/N!!" She runs to you and you pick her up in your arms.

"Hi my lovebug!"

"You are home early!"

"We are! We all just missed you so much."

Torvi "Alright, you are hogging her..it's my turn." She takes her daughter from your arms and places her back down to the ground. You get choked up once you are in her embrace but you knock yourself out of it. "Are you okay?" She whispered to you.

"I am now."

Torvi "What has happened? You all were supposed to stay a week, maybe even longer."

"It is a long story. But we needed to get home."

Torvi "Well, whenever you are ready to tell me, I am all ears."

"Okay, I love you."

Torvi "I love you too. I am glad that you are home."

"Me too." Soon enough, Ivar and Hvitserk come in with Ubbe and Ubbe looks infuriated. You gather that one of them told him what Oleg has done to you and Katya.

*CONTINUING ON A NEXT PAGE*

@hvitserkmarcosource @a-mess-of-fandoms @youbloodymadgenius @ivarsgoddess @heavenly1927 @saldelys @herestherealproblem

#alex hogh andersen #hvitserk #vikings #ivar the boneless #marco ilsø #ubbe lothbrok #the battle between love and fire #torvi vikings

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nemesyis · 4 years

Text

Reaction: Caught by your kid during sex!

Cross post from Beyond-The-Smut

Rating: Smut, Smut, smutty, Smut, shenanigans and hilarity

Warnings: just a lot of smut

Written by: Nemesyis, @dammitdiva, and rekkaras-world

Jin:

“Oh baby! You taste so sweet!” Jin moans at you with his face buried between your thighs. It’s already taking everything in you to keep from waking the kids. The way he licks and sucks at your clit just feels so good.

Just as you are about to come, the bedroom door opens and in pokes a small dark headed child. “Daddy, I’m hungry!” your 3 year old says to Jin. He looks back up at you with a smile, “so am I munchkin. Let’s get you a banana and then back to bed. Daddy has to finish eating too.”

Burrowing your burning face into your husband’s pillow as you cringe in shame at being caught by your son in a compromising position. The boy tilted his head to the side and looked at the two of you innocently, “You got snacks? Can I have some too?”

Jin hides his face against the inside of your thigh as he chuckles. “No, no snacks in here little man. You know where we keep all of them.” He looks up at you and gives you his amazing smile before giving your leg a quick peck. He stands up, adjusting himself before gently squeezing your feet as he leaves to get the second love of your life his banana.

A few short minutes Jin returns with your son by his side. “Somebody decided that they didn’t want to go back to bed and now wants to sleep with mom and dad,” he says much to your horror. This just can’t be happening. You hadn’t had your release yet and there was no way you were going to be left hanging like this.

Yoongi:

Face burrowed into a pillow as you moaned loudly. Your husband pounded furiously into you from behind, sweat dripping of his brow and onto your back. “You like it like that baby girl? Are you a good slut for Daddy?” You arched your back giving him deeper access as his cock hit your g spot like a heat seeking missile. Your bedroom door opened slowly, but you two were so caught up in eachother, you didn’t notice the pair of small faces peering at you from the doorway.

“See, I told you that mommy calls him daddy too!” the oldest of your two girls screams. You shove back against Yoongi before collapsing down against the bed, frantically grabbing for the covers. With a foot, you nudge your husband to pay attention to what’s actually going on instead of looking at you in bewilderment. You dart your eyes to the door where your daughters are standing.

The younger of the two looked confused, while the older looks smug at being proven right. “Mommy, why are you calling him Daddy?” the tiny girl asks you, puzzled as to why you would be calling him that. You weren’t entirely sure how you were going to convince your kids about your pet name for your beloved. Yoongi wasn’t helping much. He sat there with a smug smile on his face.

“Well you see Princess, mommies and daddies sometimes like to play games. Tonight, I’m pretending to be a rodeo rider, and mommy was the horsey.” Yoongi explained awkwardly as he slid off the opposite side of the bed and struggled to get his pyjama pants back on.

You watch, with the blankets clutched up to your chin as your girls squeal and attack your husband. “Daddy, we want to play too!” the youngest screams. “Yeah, daddy! Be our horsey!” the eldest follows suit.

JHope:

You moan around your husbands cock as he hits your clit with his delectable tongue in just the right way. The two of you loved to tease each other this way before fucking each other’s brains out and tonight was no exception. As you opened your mouth just a little wider to fit more of your husband in, you hear somebody clearing their throat from your bedroom door.

Hoseok immediately released you and flew behind the bed screaming a stream of expletives as your thirteen year old stood staring at you with a look of ‘seriously’ on her face. “C’mon dad, it’s not like I haven’t caught you before. You never lock your door.”

You chuckle at your husband’s response. You would never get over how easily startled he was. Picking up the robe that was at the foot of your bed, you tied it around yourself, throwing Hoseok his shirt and shorts, aiming right for his face. “Really Hobi? Why do you never remember to lock that door?” You say, laughter still coloring your words as you walk over to your daughter. “Now, how can I help you, your highness?”

“Well first you can tell Dad to quiet down a little bit. He woke me up.” she said sassily. “I do have school in the morning” You stand there biting your tongue to keep from saying a few not so “mom” words at her. You love your relationship with her but sometimes her mouth gets the best of you. “Ok. Anything else, Madame?” you reply sarcastically, as you try to keep your cool.

Namjoon:

Kneeling between your boyfriend’s knees under his desk as he attempted in vain to work. He moaned brokenly as you worked his cock with your talented tongue. He had decided to try to get some work done from home today, but you had other plans. He threaded your hair through his fingers, gingerly gripping the strands close to the scalp as he guided you up and down his length.

“Daddy? What are you doing?” a small voice asked from the hallway. “Can you help me find my doll?”

Namjoon’s grip tightened in your hair as he pulled you up, breaking your mouth away from him. Using you as a shield, he looked over at your 4 year old daughter. her pigtails uneven from sleep. “Daddy was just taking mommy’s temperature. She said she wasn’t feeling too good.” Your boyfriend looks down at you, a brow arched as if he were challenging you to argue with him.

An evil thought come across you mind as he stared at you, waiting to see what you would say to the dimpled little girl. “No honey. You must have misunderstood! I said it felt hot in this room!” You replied, grinning at Joonie as he narrowed his eyes at you. You knew you were going to catch hell later for the sneaky comment but at the same time was looking forward to seeing what kind of punishment he had waiting for you later.

Still using you as a human shield, he rushed to tuck himself back into his jeans. He glared at you for a moment before stepping around his desk and towards your daughter. “Come on Buttercup, let’s go find Sally and have a tea party.” he exclaimed as he swept the small girl up on his shoulders. “Okay Daddy.” she chirped excitedly. “You can wear my Princess Gumdrop crown this time.

Jimin:

“Oh god, how are you still so tight?” Jimin moaned as he thrusts into you. You claw your nails down his back, legs wrapped around his hips as he slides in and out of you. You do your best to muffle your moans, knowing that your son was asleep in the next room. This had been the first chance for you to be alone with Jimin in months, your son and your husband’s work having left the both of you so tired that you’d fallen asleep while watching the news every night. You were going to savor every push, every inch, every kiss that you were getting if it was the last thing you did.

Just as the two of you were about to reach your climaxes, your bedroom door flies open to reveal your young son on the other side. The three of you stare at each other in horror as you try to de tangle yourself from Jimin’s body. “Mom are you ok? Do you have a tummy ache?” he whispers to you from the door, too scared to come into the room because of your moans.

Hiding your face in Jimin’s neck as you grabbed for the blankets frantically. “NO MOMMY DOES NOT HAVE A TUMMY ACHE!” you yelled in frustration at the intrusion as well as the interruption so close to your orgasm. Jimin chuckled as he kissed your nose to quiet you down. “Calm down baby, you’re scaring him.” He slid off of you and reached for his boxers. “No buddy, Mom doesn’t have a tummy ache. She has a toothache and I was trying to see if I could find it.”

You rub your hands over your face. In frustration, at your husbands words, at your son walking in at the worst time, you didn’t know. With a muffled groan, you look around Jimins shoulders to your son, taking a deep breath before speaking “What got you out of bed, little one?” You tried to keep your voice even and calm.

“I’m thirsty, mommy.” Your little boy answered, his stuffed teddy bear clasped in his hand.

With a stifled sigh, you reach for your nightgown, quickly throwing it on before climbing out of the bed, your orgasam compleatly lost. Such are the struggles of being a parent. With a soft smile, you grab your little boy’s hand and lead him into the kitchen. “Okay honey, let’s get you some water.”

Taehyung:

Sex with Tae has always been a joyride and this time was no different. As he forces you to bounce up and down on his thick length, you can’t help but to squeal and giggle in excitement. Pretty soon he was fucking into you so hard your sounds of glee turned into moans of pure pleasure.

Your boyfriend’s bass voice joined with yours, as he groaned lowly, finding his pleasure. He slowed your frantic ride and skillfully began to coax another orgasm from you. As you reached your high, he did as well. Whitewashing your cunt with each thrust. You were both pulled too soon from your blissful state when your bedroom door opened and your five year old daughter stood in the hallway. Tears coursing down her round face as she sniffled and ground a tiny fist into her eyes.

You whip your head around as the door hits the bedroom wall. Seeing your daughter in tears kick you into ‘mommy’ mode. You quickly climb off of your boyfriend, your heel kicking into his leg, causing him to cry out in pain. In your rush, you tumble from the bed, landing soundly on your ass. You pull your pajamas on quickly, your shirt on inside out as you scramble to get to your daughter.

“Sweetheart, what’s wong? Why are you crying, babydoll?” You wrap your daughter up in your arms, gently wiping her tear-stained cheeks.

Sniffling softly she tells you that she’s had a nightmare and wants to come sleep with you and Tae. As you were thinking of the many ways you can convince her of going back to her bed alone so you could possible get a round 2 with the love of your life, you hear Taehyung yell out, “Aww! So cute! Come on baby! Come jump in bed with daddy and I’ll chase those bad dreams away!” You whip your head around to ask him what was he thinking when you notice that he has already put his Gucci boxers and night shirt back on and was holding the covers open for your little angel to climb into bed with the two of you.

Jungkook:

Panting heavily as your fiance thrust up into you, your back flat against your bathroom wall as he held your thighs firmly around his waist. “Oh my God Kookie, I’m gonna cum… don’t stop!” you groaned as you sunk your teeth into his earlobe. Propelled into further action by the delicious sounds coming from your mouth, he merely grunted and pushed into you harder and faster. The sounds of flesh striking flesh echoing off of the tiled surfaces. The only thing that broke the two of you from your intense concentration was the pair of mischievous giggles that sounded from your bedroom.

It took a moment for the giggles of your twins to register amongst the sounds of you and your fiance. And it took even longer for Jungkook to notice. You pushed your hands against his chest, forcing him to stop. He looked down at you, his eyes so round and large that his eyelids were barely visible. The giggles continued and Jungkook finally caught on.

Releasing your legs, Jungkook quickly covered himself before looking over at your girls. “And what are you two doing out of bed?”He questioned softly.

The twins started giggling again as they peered at you mischievously. “Uncle Jimin taught us a new trick and we wanted to show you!” they replied in unison, excited to show their newest discovery. Jungkook rolled his eyes at the thought of what the little runt has now taught the girls. “I thought I told you not to listen to trolls,” he replies to them, earning a smack from you.

#kpop smut #bts reactions #bts smut #jungkook #hoseok #jimin #jin #namjoon #yoongi #taehyung #kpop fanfic #kpop reactions

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itstimetotheorize · 4 years

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little nightmares , the ladys forgotten children

In my previous theory “little nightmares: Part 2: The daughters of the lady ” I explain how some of us had theorized that the lady of the maw adopted an imprisoned child that would one day be the next lady of the maw.

however, all the while I was thinking about this, something began to take over my mind...why didn't the lady just give birth to a child rather than adopt one by force?

as I thought about this I began to piece together the idea that perhaps somewhere in her life, the lady did try to have a child of her own, but later came to the horrifying realization that she never could....no....I’m not saying that the lady discovered that she was sterile, meaning her body was unable to have children...what I’m saying is, what if she did get pregnant and later gave birth to what she had hoped would be her beloved child....but soon realized that in the moment of birth, the child she wanted was not a child at all...but a monster!

to be capable of giving birth to an entirely new life, its no wonder many cultures around the world have referred to a woman's birthing ability as a “gift”. But if the lady really does have a demonic entity residing within her, then perhaps this god given gift... was no longer hers to keep..

In my previous theory “little nightmares, part 1:the past”, I , as well as other, speculate that perhaps previous ladies of the maw were all being possessed by a single dark demonic entity and where forced to do its bidding over the course of their lives. With each new generation, this entity brought each new lady of the maw an enormous amount of suffering in a number of ways. Where am I going with this? well, what if in addition to making the lady of the maws life a living nightmare, the entity within her also affected her ability to have children!, but in what way? well, what if the answer to that was already revealed to us in plane sight. And just where was this revealed? .....the pictures on the wall!

In little nightmares, various pictures can be observed on the walls of the ladys estate. These pictures help give us information as to what kind of life the lady revolved around as well as what kind of people were involved. Out of all the pictures seen, there were 3 that caught my attention, the pictures of three monster children.

sure, we could just think of these as just three pictures of deformed children, but considering that the creators of little nightmares like to leave information about the world as details in the game, rather than tell us directly, then maybe , just maybe, these children, were not just any children. Who were they? ...what if.... these were pictures of the ladys previous children!, if so, then what happened to them ?

In the “little nightmares dlc: the residence”, when the runaway kid comes across the lady in a room full of baby dolls, we see her holding one of the baby dolls, gently stroking its head as the music box next to her continues playing a lullaby, but why? I doubt a grown woman like herself would just stare blankly at a doll. No, By the looks of it, something else is going on here. With the way she is handling the little porcelain doll, its almost as if she is pretending to sooth it to sleep, almost as if it were a real baby!.

when it comes to the lady and dealing with kids, many of us have already theorized that perhaps the lady secretly did not want to kill children and instead chose to turn them into nomes as an alternate approach, should she come across one of them. Despite our theories, something doesn't make sense. Many of us had already theorized that the lady had been killing her guests by absorbing their souls/life force. But if she is fine with killing adults then what lead her to spare children? the staff of the maw clearly have no issue killing six once they catch her, or any other child for that matter, so then what happened in the ladys life that ultimately lead her to decide she would no longer kill children?

like I said before, if the lady of the maw really did give birth to her own children, and if these children were born hideously deformed, then odds are, the three children did not live long in the world they were brought into!. If the lady really does have a demonic entity possessing her, then perhaps its presence alone is what messed with the birth of her children, its demonic magic attacked the baby in her womb, devoured its soul/life then simply left them to meet their death upon birth

the lady having watched her first child be born a monster, then die shortly after , must have left her with an enormous amount of grief, but this clearly wasn’t enough for her to stop trying, after all there are three pictures on her wall, so maybe over the next few years, the lady tried to have a baby two more times, and every single time, that baby shared the same fate as its previous brothers and sisters. So yes, the lady did kill others, but maybe It was her babies deaths that lead her to decide to not kill other children.

after the third baby died, the lady must have been desperately looking for a way to cope with her grief, this coping mechanism could have been in the form of the baby dolls. And just where did these dolls come from?... from the pretender!

when it comes to “very little nightmares” many of us have theorized that the dolls the lady had were actually being sent to her from the pretenders estate. What make us say this? , in the very little nightmares game, many of us gather the idea that the pretender did not necessarily keep all the dolls seen throughout her home.

in one part of the game, the girl in the yellow raincoat falls into a box filled with shipping foam, upon closer inspection we see that the box is stamped with the same eye seen at the maw as well as the nest.

its this mark of the eye that made many of us conclude that the lady and the pretender knew each other to some extent and that it was through their connection that the lady later asked the pretender to have some dolls be prepared specially for her, then shipped to the maw.

the dolls served as the lady of the maws main source of comfort after the loss of her children. Whenever she began to feel haunted by their deaths, she must have made her way to the doll room, played the music box and pretend that the dolls were her real babies..... but was this enough? ...no, I don't think it was.

The lady must have tried everything possible to get her children back (more on this in another theory), and every single time she did try something, she failed. After a while, the lady finally gave up and accepted the possibility of adopting one of the children that were imprisoned under the maw. As stated in my theory “little nightmares Part3: the new sixes fate” that child she chose was the girl we would later know as “the girl in the yellow raincoat” from very little nightmares.

despite having been chosen as the ladys new child, I highly doubt that their relationship was anything but loving, what makes me say this? well, some of us had already theorized that perhaps the lady had in fact hated the children, she might not have killed them, but she still hated them, for what exactly?, their faces of course!

why did she hate their faces? because, in the DLC, we discover that despite her lovely appearance, the lady only appears beautiful to others. When she gazes at herself through a mirror, that mirror reveals her to be hideously deformed. When we see her gaze at her own reflection, we also hear her whimper and cry, telling us that this was definitely a sight that upset her to an extreme degree.

So yeah, she might not have killed the children, but she still resented them for having a proper face, unlike herself, and continued to have them abducted and imprisoned in the maw, leaving them to be dealt with in whatever way the maw needed.

and speaking of the children, of all the things that the lady could have turned the children into, I find it interesting that she chose the form of the nomes, with their little bodies, little feet, little hands.......their little heads covered by big pointy hats which perfectly hide their faces.

when the lady transformed the children into nomes, it might not have just been out of mercy, but out of hate and jealousy … so then...what happened to her daughter?. As far as we know, she is no longer in the maw. As stated in my theory “little nightmares part : the new sixes fate”, some of us speculate that maybe the adopted daughter of the lady ran away on a blimp and was actually the girl seen in the yellow raincoat in very little nightmares, but why did she run away? we can theories that maybe the girl caught onto the ladys way of life and decided she didn't want to have anything to do with it, but what if there was something else going on?. If the lady really did hate the children for their cute faces, then perhaps her adopted daughter was no exception. So what could have lead her to run away even more?...maybe the lady did something to her.....

if we look back at the three pictures of what could be the ladies deceased babies, you may find that in each of these pictures , each individual child is wearing the same yellow clothes, or rather.....the same yellow raincoat!

no doubt this yellow raincoat is the same one that the adopted girl is wearing,

so why is it that those three have it as well? it cant be that there is more than one yellow raincoat, unless...the children seen in the pictures are not three children, but rather, one person! ,who is this person?...... the adopted girl! If those three pictures really are just the girl in the raincoat then why does her face look like three different deformed children?.....unless....that's not her face at all, but rather the faces of the ladys dead babies!!

By taking a closer look at the three pictures, you may find that their is something very odd about their heads. The skin leading down to their necks appear to be loose and tied to the body by a rope, their eyes appear either hollow or glassy, and their mouths are pitch black, almost as if there skin is loose from the rest of their bodies.

If the ladys babies really did die during child birth then perhaps the trauma caused the lady to do very rash and unthinkable things. This world seems to be comprised of mainly twisted minds, so perhaps twisted ideas came to the lady on how to make her babies appear alive!

rather than burying her babies and accepting her loss, the lady might have preserved their bodies! what did she do with their bodies? well...if the lady and the pretender really do know each other, then perhaps the lady sent what was left of her babies to the nest to have their heads skinned and turned into masks!.

The pretender has staff that know how to skin living things, hence why in the nest the craftsman appears to be skilled in making leathers (which as many of us have already theorized, is actually the skin of children!).

If the craftsman really is making dolls out of children then its likely that making a mask from a head for the lady of the maw would be a simple matter to him. In the very little nightmares game, we see that the room next to the leather making room is filled with tools to craft the leather onto children sized mannequins!

heck, this was probably not even the first time he did an order like that for the maw. In little nightmares, when we come across the twin chefs, we discover that their faces are actually masks.

who made the chefs mask?, the craftsman from the nest!

and just what did the lady do when she received her masks? nothing pleasant that’s for sure, but if I had to guess, if the person in those three pictures really is the adopted daughter, then maybe the day that the masks arrived, the lady took them, walked on over to her adopted daughter, took her to a room with a camera set up, set her down in front of the camera.....then placed her dead babies face mask over her head! but why?! . Well, perhaps when her children died, the lady grieved over the various moments she never had the chance to have with her children, including taking a proper picture of them.

It was in this moment that, I imagine, gave the lady a sight she could only dream about, her baby standing up, in front of a camera, ready to take his/her first picture, even if it was fake. But was this enough? no, I don't think it was...

As if things couldn't get worse, it was theorized by many of us that the lady was in fact jealous of her adoptive daughters face and had hated her along with the rest of the children.

If this is true, then seeing her adopted daughter wearing a mask of her ugly dead babies gave the lady an insane amount of joy, joy for not only watching her dead baby have the appearance of being alive, but also giving her the pleasure of knowing her babies faces were just as imperfect as hers. Not only that, it was through her decision of forcing her adopted daughter to wear the masks that finally gave her the satisfaction of ridiculing her adoptive daughters pretty face, but did she stop then and there?, no I don't think so. Maybe the lady didn't just stop at having her adoptive daughter wear the skin masks as part of a photo shoot, what if the lady decided that she wanted her to wear the masks, all the time! but could even the lady be this twisted?!

Considering the twisted logic of this world as well as the actions of the people that inhabit it, its entirely possible that even the lady would resort to extreme measures . As for the girl in the yellow raincoat, well, being forced to wear a mask of her adopted mothers dead babies could have been the additional factor in the girls decision to runaway from the maw by blimp.

when she ran away, the lady could have just let her adopted daughter go and simply take another child from the maw, but what if the girl did something before she left, something that angered the lady to the point that she wanted her found and brought back?. Maybe, just maybe, that something had to do with the masks. In the game, there is no trace of these masks existing, but what if the reason we never see them is because they no longer exist, why?, because the girl in the yellow raincoat destroyed them!

if the girl really did destroy the masks, then this was clearly something that greatly angered the lady. It was through sheer anger that the lady must have refused to let go of the girls decision to runaway and instead sent out the word to have her brought back if found. A decision which failed later on, when the wrong child was returned to her, this child being of course, the girl that we now know as six from the little nightmares game! ...but hey, that’s just a theory, a little nightmares theory !

#little nightmares #little nightmares II #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares six #little nightmares mono #little nightmares the lady #little nightmares theory #little nightmares theories #six #the lady #mono

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chibimyumi · 3 years

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Summary and mini review: Confidenceman JP - Episode of the Princess

Dear everyone,

Multiple people have asked me what I thought of the movie when it was first released in the cinemas. I did not go to the cinema however, but now the DVD is out. And as promised, I would post a review once I have seen ‘Confidenceman JP: Episode of the Princess’.

This post is NOT going to be spoiler free. So if you want to watch the movie first for yourself: Amazon Japan has the absolute cheapest price, and you can rent it from ￥440 for 48 hours! Amazon ships internationally, but if you wish to use proxy service, use #proxy on my blog to find some options and tips.

Spoiler free section

The premise of the story is fairly simple. The Hu family is the wealthiest family in the world of Confidenceman JP, and the protagonists Da-ko, Boku-chan and Richard plan to get wealthy by tricking that family’s fortune into their own hands. The head of the family Raymond Hu has passed away, and now his three children - Brigitte, Christopher and Andrew - are in line to succeed the astronomical sum of inheritance...

...except apparently not!

Raymond Hu left in his testament to whom he will pass down his name and fortune, namely youngest child, Michelle Hu. (Click here for the clip with subs.) Nobody knows who Michelle Hu is however, and Da-ko and her friends decide to make good use of this.

They find a 16 year old girl nicknamed Kokkuri, and they plan to dress her up as Raymond’s appointed heir. In this plan, Da-ko is to pose as Michelle’s mother, named Misako.

Kokkuri is brought to the Hu estate in Singapore where she undergoes DNA tests and background check - all prepared by Da-ko of course - to verify whether she is indeed the future head of the Hu family. She passes the initial test and undergoes rigorous training to be worthy of being a queen.

The three eldest children of Raymond however, really, really want Michelle gone, dead or alive. Preferably dead.

The eldest child Brigitte does not really care whether Michelle really is her sister, all she cares about is that fake or not, Michelle is but a street rat gone Cinderella, and would bring shame to the family. As the butler Tony is the one who gave Michelle’s test a ‘pass’, Brigitte asks him how he intends to take responsibility should Michelle be unworthy.

The butler Tony is first and foremost loyal to the Hu family and their face, and shows that he is not above killing a 16 year old if it be for the sake of the Hu family’s name.

And thus a game of legitimacy has started!

Spoiler section

The following will be a very simplified summary of the rest of the movie wherein I do leave out some parts. This is NOT a replacement for watching the movie to understand the full story, though it will contain spoilers that can, well...spoil the story.

This section will contain footage gifs and screenshots of the movie that contain spoilers... and admittedly focus disproportionately much on Christofuru.

Kokkuri now named Michelle is very anxious to be exposed. She was originally prepared to face the wrath of her “new siblings”, but had not expected Tony to be totally alright with murder.

When Michelle was to be introduced to the siblings things go about as smoothly as one might think. Brigitte especially is contemptuous towards Michelle and Misako for their ‘commoner status’, finding every way possible to humiliate them out of her life. When Michelle accidentally drops her food on the floor for example, Brigitte tells her to eat it from the floor because that is what animals like her should do.

Christopher is not much better, he shows off his unmatched class in front of Misako and Michelle and adds to his elder sister’s words: “Humans need to show actions that “befit” their status, how do you say that in Japanese again so you will understand, bunsouou (分相応)?” Simultaneously showing off his Japanese proficiency as well as playing the condescension card.

The youngest son Andrew is relatively chill about Michelle, though he also does nothing to stop his elder siblings. He just seems to be enjoying the fact that he is not the youngest child anymore. There is not much information, but judging from Brigitte and Christopher’s big attitude being the eldest daughter and son respectively, to Andrew not being the youngest might be a really nice breath of fresh air.

Especially Brigitte’s attitude really, really gets on “Misako’s” nerves, and she accidentally challenges the family using Raymond’s will. Misako’s and Michelle’s mission now become to prove themselves more worthy than the legitimate children of Raymond.

This however was easier said than done as the children would not budge one bit. Da-ko did try to offer Brigitte to “yield” the position of head of the household in exchange for enough money, but Brigitte simply dismissed them for she had too much disdain to even talk with Misako and Michelle, and even literally attempted murder on them.

Christopher is a man who only knows how to solve problems with money. Before when Christopher learned that Michelle’s mother is “but a poor commoner” he had instructed butler Tony to give her enough money to make her happy, and therefore leave. (Also, I need to say that I just can’t get over how incredibly goooood Furukawa looks as Christopher. The way he slid the telephone across his face is so HNGGGG.)

I am not sure whether Da-ko knows of this conversation between Christopher and Tony, but when she had given up on talking with Brigitte, she attempts to bribe Christopher in the same way. Christopher however, really does not appreciate somebody coming to ‘ask’ money of him. The throws Da-ko two coins and says: “This is all I can give to a beggar.”

Next they try to bribe Andrew into the same plan, but then they find out he’s busy in bed with his boyfriend, and apparently??? too gay to be bribed??? So they give up without trying.

All plans to bribe the siblings unfortunately fail, so instead Da-ko comes up with a new plan. She would make a fake Hu family “royal seal”, swap it out for the real one during the Hu family inauguration ceremony, and later sell the real one on the black market as reward.

The ceremony however was disturbed by a suicide bomber whose life was previously destroyed by the Hu family, and now wants revenge. The suicide bomber is sent into deep depression and solitude because of the Hu family, but he kept himself going for a long time. When he lost the doll his dead wife had made he kept as momento however, he felt that keeping himself strong really was for nothing, and how the Hu family was merely the vampire of a healthy society.

Everyone was in panic, and even though it really seemed that the Hu siblings’ bond could not be worse, big bro and sis were the first to actually try to do something to save their little brother. Brigitte says: “how much money do you want? Name any sum, I’ll give it!” and Christopher screams off the top of his lungs “shoot him! Somebody shoot him!”

Just when the bomber was about to press the button however, Michelle reaches out to him with 🌈kindness🌈 She had found the doll the man lost and kept it with her for she did not know when she could return it to its owner. Now that the owner has showed up, she feels relieved the man can have his momento back.

All this time Tony had suspected that Michelle might be a fake and had conducted his own research. In his research he found a letter written by Raymond Hu addressed to the ‘real mother’ of Michelle. This woman however, was named Siti, not Misako. Tony found out that really nobody knows where the real ‘Michelle Hu’ is, and that the current Michelle is therefore not the legitimate heir. Tony’s original plan was to expose the truth, but seeing how this fake Michelle Hu has spoken so well during the inauguration ceremony and effectively saved the suicide bomber and everyone, Tony changed his mind. Michelle’s courageous attitude and problem solving skills was much better than Brigitte’s and Christopher’s who only know how to tackle problems using money and power.

Finally Tony gathers the children and tells them about Raymond’s last letter. However, Tony had cut out the addressee of the letter, and only told the children the key message.

In this letter - Tony told - Raymond Hu said how he saw his fortune as something of a curse that bound his beloved children, and therefore thought somebody else would be better to inherit the name and fortune of the Hu family. Raymond had supposedly seen how Brigitte had always wanted to just live her life happily as a normal woman, how Christopher wanted to become an entomologist, and how his youngest son had always lived for love. By giving the inheritance to Michelle Hu, his three eldest children would be able to live in freedom.

The siblings hold hands and acknowledge how what they truly wanted was not the inheritance or name, but their father’s love.

The three accept their new young sister, and extend their kindness to her.

Finally Brigitte was able to live her life and accept the affection of a commoner-born man she had been in love with.

Andrew was able to publically date his boyfriend without fear of “shaming the family”

And Christopher was able to run about in the bushes and lay in the grass surrounded by his beloved insects.

The Hu family is all happy now, and Tony is more or less happy. Now that things have been wrapped up and Michelle Hu formally accepted as head of the Hu family, Da-ko and her team need to go.

Tony of course knew that Da-ko and her friends were con-artists. But as they have indeed brought “Michelle Hu” who saved the family, Tony had decided to let Da-ko and her team off without punishment as a way of ‘reward’.

All this time Da-ko and her friends had had rivals who tried to win the ‘Hu Royal Seal’ from Da-ko, and sell it on the black market themselves instead. But then Da-ko outwitted them of course~! And all the drama had been a misconception etc. etc. Honestly...this is SO Japanese I can’t.

To be entirely honest, I found this rival-storyline very distracting and there are just fragments here and there, and I really couldn’t explain this in this post without sitting here all week... so forgive me for leaving that out.

But the movie closes on the ‘revelation’ of how Da-ko had outwitted her rivals, and “all’s well that ends well”.

Review

Plot: 5/10

The plot is really very predictable and follows a rather stereotypical ‘Cinderella saves the day with kindness’ trajectory. If you are familiar with the ‘con artist genre’ in Japanese media, then I honestly would say this movie does a pretty poor job being anything else than that. This genre tends to rely too heavily on ‘misconceptions HAHA’ in my opinion, but in the very least, Confidenceman JP in this movie did manage to at least have ‘logical’ misconceptions that are intentionally planted in the story to be misconceived. Hence, 5/10.

Execution: 7/10

This movie is actually a lot better in execution than I originally thought. I would say that the PVs did a really poor job showing the audience what to expect. The PV contained a lot of very anime-esque moments that - to me - just don’t translate well in live actions. Once you do see the movie though, you see how those anime-esque moments are for the most part there because the characters were imitating anime-esque moments. The movie is still not innocent of really dramatic acting, but that’s just Japanese cinema for you. In the very least - to my very untrained eyes - the editing was not bad, and there were no painful anime CGI moments that suspended all my will of belief.

Acting: 7.5/10

In my opinion the actors in this movie did an ‘overall okay’ job, with some people scoring higher, and other scoring lower than the overall-7/10 I give. In this list I shall give a brief review of the more prominent characters.

Da-ko: 8/10. The main character Da-ko played by Nagasawa Masami did a really good job. She was a slightlyyyy older woman (i.e. not a student) and she really did show how she has some life experience, and sold all her roles as con-artist believably.

Richard and Boku-chan: They had very little screentime and also little to show off; so I would say that in the very least they didn’t do anything that made me go: Wow... you suck. So, no rating here for now.

Michelle/Kokkuri: 6.5/10. She was after Da-ko the main character, and I expected quite a lot from her. Sekimizu did a fairly good job to be a princess of kindness and compassion. PLUS, I could tell how hard she worked to pull off the scenes wherein she was supposed to speak English and Mandarin Chinese fluently. Her English still was quite hard to accept, but it was understandable! (Though, admittedly it’s not super fair for me to judge her English because my English is better than that of the target audience. The target audience were all ooh-and-aahing at her English.) But I am less impressed by her ‘I’m a poor girl raised on the streets, I am intimidated by everything” act. It was just too much. It was constantly as though I could see her thinking: “can I make this even more sad?”

Brigitte Hu: 5/10. To be honest I really expected much more of her...... Vivian Hsu had her nice moments, but when she was ‘the ice queen Brigitte Hu’ she seemed to only ever have 2 modes: The Diva or the Yelling Diva. I personally had the feeling that somebody like Brigitte would feel like she is ‘above’ yelling, or in the very least I hoped for more nuance in her. Even though she was a bit too ‘obviously Diva’ to me, she did sell the ‘aura’ of a queen fairly well.

Christopher Hu: 10/10. Christopher did not have a LOT of screentime, but whatever he did have, he aced it! Yes, I might be biased, but there’s a reason I became such a huge Furukawa fan, because he aces acting.

Furukawa as Christopher was incredibly cold and whenever he felt like he was too good to listen to someone, you really could see how he was inside his own little world. When he had to show the softer side when he opened up to his family and was able to be with insects unashamed, you really couldn’t help but cheer for him.

Furukawa’s English was still pretty bad. As shared in this post, Furukawa had THREE English coaches to help him, and half of the time I still relied on the Japanese subs to understand him. Though I must say, his intonation in English was very good! It was like his tongue was too stiff to actually pronounce the words, but his perfect pitch helped him get all the intonation right.

What ultimately impresses me most though, is Furukawa’s “non native Japanese” acting. Brigitte’s actress is Taiwanese, so even though her Japanese really is incredibly good, you could hear that she is not a native speaker, and it works perfectly for Brigitte Hu, who is not a native speaker. Andrew’s actor Shirahama IS a native Japanese speaker, while Andrew is not. Shirahama did try to insert some dramatic pronunciations here and there when he speaks Japanese, but it was still very obvious Shirahama was an active Japanese native speaker.

Furukawa though: He said in multiple interviews that he had no confidence in his English, and especially in comparison to the other cast who do speak English very well. So instead Furukawa focused on speaking Japanese as a non-native would, WITHOUT making fun of them. (That’s a real problem in Japan... making fun of non-native Japanese speakers even though most Japanese people are monolinguals...)

Furukawa would put the intonation JUST a bit off, and prolong or shorten some vowels JUST a bit too much. When he said Misako’s name for example, he prolonged the ‘a’, saying ‘Misaako’ instead. Another time he said “mezurashikunai” (not uncommon), also extending the a, saying “mezuraashikunai” instead. I am honestly shocked how accurate this ‘quirk’ is, because in my experience speaking with non-native Japanese speakers with a germanic/latin language background, that is EXACTLY what they do.

Andrew Hu: 9/10. Andrew is a character who really doesn’t care about what the world thinks about him and is actively trying to establish his own person. Shirahama does a really good job giving off this energy, and he has a lot of moments where he is actually scared or sad for example, but is trying to hide it, WHILST trying to hide the fact that he is hiding it. This is some really good micro detail in my opinion!

He did not stop his elder siblings from bullying Michelle, so he is complicit. However, you could see how he would not have made the same choice as Brigitte and Christopher did had he been in their position. There was a certain level of ‘empathy’ in his eyes that his elder siblings just did not have, meaning that in the end when the siblings kissed and made up, he actually made it more believable than the script made it be. Good job!

The only reason he has a 9/10 instead of the full 10 is because his English was really horrible, plus he did not have the ‘good non-native-Japanese act’ to compensate. Being bad at English is of course not a real problem, but you really could see the clear difference between Shirahama acting in English and him acting in Japanese. Whenever he was acting in Japanese it was just really good, but whenever his scene was in English you could just see how he was squeezing every drop of his energy into saying the words... sad.

Tony: 7/10. Shibata is not bad at what he does, but I think the character/script just gives him too little to work with even though he is arguably the real ‘antagonist’ in this movie. More so than Da-ko’s rivals effectively.

Tony is just always the stoic butler and he was always ‘function first, person later’.

Shibata never took me OUT of a moment, unlike Shirahama’s bad English acting, Brigitte’s shouting and Michelle’s cutesy-woobie act though. So still I would give this guy a 7/10.

Well, that was that. The movie was enjoyable, but I wouldn’t call it a GOOD movie. The story is quite predictable, as are the characters. The morale kind of reminded me of a children’s story of: “real fortune is love, not money”, or “love can cure greed.”

Though not a good movie, it is definitely a must if you’re a Furukawa fan, and especially if you speak English and Japanese, because then you can truly see how much effort he poured into the role.

If you don’t understand Japanese however (and you don’t mind his terrible English), then seeing him as this ice-cold, rich bastard is a real treat too!

Conclusion: If you’re a collector, buy the DVD, it’s not expensive! If you’re not, then I really do recommend renting it via Amazon. For 440-550 JPY it is definitely worth it!

#Confidenceman JP #Episode of the Princess #Princess #Furukawa Yuta #Christofuru #Christopher Hu

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stormyblue90 · 4 years

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Remembrance

Decided to write a bit of a bittersweet Kassidas ficlet. I have another, happy idea to write later, but I wanted this one out of the way first. You can get a palate cleaner whenever I end up writing it!

Pairing: Kassandra/Brasidas Assasins Creed Odyssey

warnings: canon character death... and possible tears reading this...

Golden light from the evening sun glinted off the edge of a bronze shield, set beneath an old willow tree. Kassandra sat before the small memorial she had built in front of her childhood home. It was small, simple, and centered around an old, battle worn Spartan shield. A small engraved plaque lay before it, reading the name "Brasidas of Sparta, Son of Tellis and Argileonis of Sparta".

It was the anniversary of the Battle of Amphipolis and Kassandra spent much of the day mourning the loss of the great general, her love. She remembered their last night together before the Fates so cruelly snatched him away, sending him to Hades. Tears threatened to fall, as they always did when she thought of him on this day.

"And what of these?" Brasidas asked, tracing the prominent scars on Kassandra's right arm. She had nestled herself in his arms, head under his chin. Both in a state of undress due to their earlier lovemaking.

"A very nasty pack of wolves on Kephallonia." Kassandra replied, "They were terrorizing a small farm. I think I was only sixteen at the time. Before I really made a name for myself as a Misthios. Another, more experienced mercenary WAS going to hunt them down, but he was a braggart and I beat him to it."

Brasidas laughed lightly at the thought of a teenage Kassandra taking on a pack of wolves, no doubt determined to prove herself and show up an older prideful mercenary, and too stubborn to back down from such a challenge. "Why am I not surprised you started such a life so young?"

She shrugged. "Not much a choice really. When you've been trained to fight, and your...'caretaker' is a bumbling idiot, you learn quickly becoming a Misthios is your best option."

He gently nuzzled into her loose hair, kissing the top of her head. Both were silent for a moment, before Kassandra spoke up.

"But... I do sometimes wonder what a simpler life would be like." she admitted.

"Is that so? And what kind of life do you dream of?"

Kassandra thought about it for a moment. In truth she wasn't sure she'd ever have such a life. A lifetime of fighting, surviving, and since she left Kephallonia, on the run from all manner of enemies.

"I'm...not entirely sure." she answered, "I just know one things family, my family."

Brasidas smiled, "Well, you've already started on such a path. You have your mater, your old house."

Kassandra sobered, "Just...need to bring my brother back. I promised Mater after all."

They both knew that would be no simple task, if it could be accomplished. Alexios suffered a lifetime of torture and brainwashing at the hands of the Cult, to be twisted and warped into their weapon, Deimos. However if anyone could do it, it'd be the Eagle Bearer Kassandra. Brasidas was confident she'd fight the entire pantheon if she had to.

"You will. I know it. You're too strong and stubborn." he replied, causing a small chuckle to erupt from Kassandra, lightening her mood. "But... perhaps you could have more." he added, a sense of unsureness in his voice as he trailed off.

Kassandra lifted her head to look at him, "What do you mean?" she asked.

Brasidas momentarily averted her gaze, suddenly seeming nervous. Rather uncharacteristic of the brave and confident Spartan she knew.

"Well, perhaps in the future, when this is all over of course... and you've reunited your family, we- I mean you..."

"Yes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. "You... would choose to be my wife?" he finished, finally meeting her gaze again.

Kassandra's eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up at his proposal. His eyes looked so nervous and vulnerable, afraid she'd say no and break his heart.

"I-I would not stop you from taking contracts, and I understand if you don't want to-" he quickly stammered, feeling like she'd reject him, she was a misthios, always on the move after all. Settling down just didn't seem like something she'd WANT; dream of perhaps, but not actively pursue it.

Brasidas' fears were quickly expunged from his mind as Kassandra's lips slammed into his own, her hands cradling his face.

"Yes! By the gods YES!" She answered when she pulled away, a huge smile beaming on her face.

Brasidas returned with an equally bright smile of his own as she pressed her forehead against his. He kissed the tip of her nose as she laughed joyfully.

"I love you." He whispered.

"And I love you." Kassandra replied, kissing her lover once again.

A single tear fell down Kassandra's cheek at the memory. That had been their last night together. The Battle of Amphipolis tragically ripped him from her life.

While she had succeeded in bringing her brother home, she'd be lying if she said there wasn't a small part of her that wanted to kill him for taking Brasidas from her. However Kassandra pushed that thought out of her mind. It was the monster Deimos and the Cult that killed her lover, not her brother. Not Alexios.

She did promise Myrrine she'd do whatever it took to bring him back. Kassandra also had other reasons for sparing him, one BECAUSE of Brasidas. She learned from him that not every solution has to end in death when she spared Lagos and saved his family. However one she had yet to reveal to her mother at the time. A reason she only discovered shortly after finding out Aspasia was the Ghost of Kosmos, and killing her. After that, she refused to spill any more blood if she could avoid it.

"Mater!" a small voice called, pulling Kassandra out of her memory and back to the present.

A little girl of six came running out of the house, carrying wooden dolls in her hands. Kassandra turned towards her daughter. Every time she looked at her, she saw Brasidas, their daughter looked so much like him. She had his pale, hazel-brown eyes. However it wasn't just the color that was the same, but the compassionate nature he possessed in them as well; but like him could be filled determined ferocity.

"Yes Phoibe?" Kassandra answered as the little girl ran over and settled herself in her mother's lap.

"They're finished!" Phoibe exclaimed, holding up the little wooden dolls she carried.

"Oh did Grandmater help you with those?" Kassandra asked.

Phoibe nodded, "Uh-huh. And Grandpater too!"

Of course he did. Kassandra thought, it seemed Nikolaos was doing everything possible to be the father he couldn't long ago for his granddaughter. From the moment he first held little Phoibe, he vowed he wouldn't make the same mistakes again with his family. He'd make it up to the children and wife he failed a lifetime ago.

Phoibe showed off the dolls as she placed them on the memorial, in front of Brasidas' shield.

"Here's Pater!" she explained, placing a wooden doll depicting a man with a shield, spear, and red cloth for a cloak wrapped around it. "Aaaand you Mater..." she continued, this time a figure of a woman with a broken spear in hand. "Then ME!" she exclaimed as she placed a much smaller child figure in front.

Kassandra smiled warmly, Phoibe loved making little dolls and other toys with her grandparents. "Aren't you forgetting some?" She asked.

"Oh yeah!" Phoibe dug into her pocket and pulled out a tiny, bird shaped carving. "Ikaros!" She cried, as the the eagle himself cheeped happily from the tree branch he was perched on.

"I didn't have enough material to make everyone else though... But I will!" she admitted. "Uncle Alexios said he wanted to help this time when he comes back."

"Did he now?"

Phoibe nodded. Alexios always left Sparta on this day, likely the guilt and shame he felt was too much to stay around his sister and niece. He still blamed himself for Kassandra losing her lover, for his niece never knowing her father. Even if Kassandra eventually forgave him.

She still remembered the look of intense pain and guilt on his face when Phoibe asked why she didn't have a father like her friends. She was four at the time. There was no point in lying to her. They told her the truth, that her beloved uncle killed him before she was born. However Alexios said it was a monster called Deimos inside him that killed the girl's father. He wasn't wrong, but when he admitted it he was terrified the niece he came to love would hate him. She never did. When she asked if the monster was gone, he nodded, saying he and his family killed it a long time ago. It was then she hugged him tightly, saying he wasn't a monster, he was her uncle, and she still loved him. Alexios broke down in tears and hugged her back when she said it.

Phoibe spoke up again. "He said he wanted to help because he wanted to make sure I made him look really strong and powerful... and to make Uncle Stentor ugly enough."

Kassandra snorted as she laughed, hugging her daughter close as she giggled back. "I see then." she answered.

For a few minutes she just held Phoibe close, admiring her daughter's handiwork. She was getting better at making her little toys. Her daughter was a fast learner both in creating toys, and in fighting. Kassandra made sure to keep with the family tradition of training her daughter to fight as well as the Spartan boys, better she hoped.

"Do you think Pater would be proud of me? I pray to Hermes all the time that he gets my messages." Phoibe asked innocently.

Kassandra kissed the top her head. "He IS proud of you Phoibe. And he loves you so much." She answered.

"Really?" Phoibe replied, looking up.

"Yes. He lives in Elysium now, and Hermes brings him ALL of your messages." Kassandra answered. "And one day, a loooooooong time from now, after you've had thousands of adventures, you'll get to see him. You'll get to tell him everything yourself."

"And Great Grandpater too!" the little girl added.

"Oh yes, him too. In fact I bet your Pater and he are fishing together in Elysium."

"Catch a big one Pater!" Phoibe called out towards the sky, causing another laugh to erupt from her mother.

While Brasidas had been taken from her life, he was not truly gone. He still lived on in her memory, in their daughter. It was during these moments, as Kassandra held her daughter in front of his memorial, on this day every year, she felt his presence beside her. Enveloping her as if hugging her and their daughter. As if his spirit was granted a brief visit from Hades on this day, to spend a small moment with his family until the day they could be reunited in Elysium.

#Assassins Creed Odyssey #Assassins Creed #Kassandra #Brasidas #Kassidas #my writing #oneshot #Let's see if I make anyone cry from this...#please let me know what you think #Don't worry I'll write a MUCH happier fluffier one soon.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Aquaria Goes To Kindergarten (Shalaska, Sharon-Aquaria) - Joanne

A/N: Please be kind, this is my first ever fic. So, basically, I’m total shalaska trash, and I needed more mom!Sharon and decided to take matters into my own hands. Pure fluff, obviously.

Summary: Somehow, Aquaria, Sharon’s tiny baby daughter, was ready for her first day of kindergarten. But was Sharon ready? Tune in to find out.

Well, It had finally happened. The day had finally come when Aquaria was to start kindergarten. Sharon had thought for certain that Aquaria was going to wake up at the crack of dawn, or maybe even earlier, out of excitement for her big day, and that Sharon would have to force herself out of bed to get ready to take her.

Instead, Sharon had woken up around four a.m., after tossing and turning most of the night with anxiety. She was wrapped in her old worn-out fleece robe with little black bats on it, bags under her eyes, drinking her third cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, staring into space, thinking a mile a minute.

What if she’s too mature to fit in with the other kids? What if they don’t understand her? What if I forgot to teach her something important that she should know? What if they ask about her daddy, and she won’t know what to say?

Sharon couldn’t stop her thoughts from spiraling. She couldn’t believe that her beautiful blonde baby was already five, ready to go to school. How has the time gone by so fast?

Having Aquaria had by no means been in Sharon’s “5 year plan” when she was a 20-year-old college student. Sharon was a pretty quiet, albeit kind of goth, philosophy major when she got pregnant after a relatively uneventful one-night-stand with a boy from her class. When she found out she was pregnant, her parents disowned her. She ended up dropping out of school, and went to working full time at her coffee shop gig, lonely and afraid.

She never told the boy, the father of her child, Aquaria’s biological father. She never particularly liked him anyway, and she could not foresee herself sharing the baby growing inside her with some boring kid she wasn’t in love with.

And so it had been just the two of them. Sharon bounced from one aimless job to the next, and Aquaria spent her days waiting for her beloved mommy to pick her up from daycare. Sharon tried her hardest to provide for and occasionally spoil her daughter, even if that meant Sharon had to sometimes go to work without breakfast, or put off getting the oil changed in her beat up old car.

At the end of the day, however, Sharon and Aquaria were happy. Sharon didn’t know she could love someone like she loved her daughter, and Aquaria thought that her mom hung the moon. They were both perfectly content with each other and the little life they shared.

And so when the day came for Aquaria to sign up for kindergarten, Sharon was a wreck. It hadn’t quite dawned on her that her baby daughter was going to grow up, especially so fast. She cried in her car, parked in the Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot, for what felt like an hour after signing her daughter away. Sharon wasn’t ready.

Sharon, still lost in her thoughts, was awoken by the alarm on her phone on the counter. Shit. 7am. Time to get ready for school.

She tiptoed down the hall to Aquaria’s room, turning on the pink ballerina lamp when she entered. Sharon gently sat on the side of Aquaria’s little twin bed and looked down at her sleeping daughter. Aquaria’s long eyelashes, pink cheeks, and wispy blonde hair made her look like a little doll. She really was still Sharon’s baby, as much as either of them pretended otherwise.

Sharon softly ran her fingers through Aquaria’s fine hair, and her eyelashes began to flutter open.

“Guess what day it is, my pretty,” Sharon sing-songily whispered in her daughter’s ear. She slowly opened her eyes, looking groggy.

“Mama, I’m still sleepy.”

Aquaria was starting to get lulled back to sleep by Sharon’s comforting hand in her hair. Sharon got closer to her little ear, and whispered, “Aquaria, today’s the day! It’s the first day of school.”

Aquaria’s eyes shot open wide and she sat straight up. “Ah! Mama, I forgot! It’s time for kindergarten! Kindergarten, kindergarten!” She squealed and jumped around the dimly lit room in her pajamas, going 0 to 60. Sharon smiled at her, but inside, the butterflies in her stomach did somersaults.

On the car ride there, Aquaria’s display of excitement had vanished. She looked the part, with her hair in curled pigtails and wearing her new polka dot dress, but she stared silently in front of her, brows furrowed.

“Aquaria, baby, are you excited?” Sharon tried. She could tell Aquaria was nervous, but she herself wasn’t in much better shape. She stopped at a stoplight and looked at Aquaria in the backseat.

In the tiniest voice imaginable, Aquaria managed a forced “umhmm” and a little nod, eyes wide. Sharon’s heart sank. She wanted to turn the car around and go home and watch cartoons with her baby in her arms on the couch. Neither of them were ready, and yet they were almost there.

When Sharon parked in that same Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot where she had cried before, she turned to look at Aquaria. “Listen, baby, I know you’re nervous, but there really isn’t anything to be nervous about. You’re gonna make so many new friends, and learn so much, and have so much fun.”

Aquaria stared into Sharon’s eyes, and a single giant tear fell from one of her eyes, and she began to pout. Sharon jumped out of the car and into the back seat, scooping Aquaria out of her car seat and into her lap.

“Oh, baby. I know you’re scared. But you’re gonna do so good.”

Aquaria cried some more tears onto her mother’s shoulder, trying to catch her breath from her sobbing. Sharon held her at arms’ reach and looked into her eyes. Aquaria sniffled a few times, trying to silence herself.

“I know you can do it. You’re such a big girl now. And I am gonna be right there when the day is over, and then we can even go get ice cream.”

By now, the tears had stopped, and little Aquaria seemed to have calmed down some. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she still looked a little worried, but there was a new sense of determination on her little face. Sharon led her out of the car and helped her grab her backpack and lunch kit. As they walked towards the school, hand in hand, Sharon gave Aquaria’s hand a little squeeze of reassurance, something she learned from her own mother long ago. Sharon wonders what her family would think of her life now; of Aquaria in her little polka dot dress.

Sharon walked Aquaria into the school, and they were lead down the kindergarten hallway. On the wall was a list of the classroom each student was in, and Aquaria’s name was under the one listed Ms. Thunder- Room 102. They found the right room, and walked in to find lots of other new kindergarteners and their parents running around the room chaotically, finding the right monogrammed pencil boxes or places to put their backpacks. Sharon and Aquaria were equally overwhelmed as they looked at each other, and Sharon quickly forced a smile of reassurance.

They made their way to a place at a little table marked with Aquaria’s name, and Sharon knelt next to her daughter who sat in her new seat. “What do you think, baby? Don’t some of these kids look like they’ll make good friends?”

Aquaria didn’t respond, her eyes darting all around her with so much to look at. Moms, dads, little siblings, students who occasionally looked as nervous as Aquaria herself. Sharon too found it hard to not watch the bustle of people, the fancy women talking to each other with their doting husbands behind them. She felt out of place in her black jeans and combat boots, and without another parent to accompany her.

As they looked around them at all of the chattering people, a long, slender hand with pale pink nails reached across the table, accompanied with a chipper “And you must be miss Aquaria Needles! How are you doing this exciting morning?”

Aquaria shook her hand hesitantly as she and Sharon looked up. It was the most angelic yet alien looking woman Sharon had ever seen. She had long straight blonde hair half up, and a long flowy floral dress on. She smiled down at them sweetly.

“I’m your new teacher, Ms. Thunder! It’s so nice to meet you, Aquaria. We’re going to have a great year. Are you excited to be a kindergartener?” Aquaria forced a quiet smile at the tall woman in front of her.

Sharon stood up from Aquaria’s table and shook Ms. Thunder’s hand. “Hi. I’m Sharon Needles, Aquaria’s mom.” Ms. Thunder smiled at Sharon, her eyes sparkling. “So nice to meet you,” she said softly.

Quietly, so as to not let her daughter sitting below them hear, Sharon said, “Aquaria’s pretty nervous about school starting. There were a few tears shed on the way here this morning.”

Alaska’s brows furrowed a little as she looked back down at Aquaria, and then back up to Sharon. “That’s pretty normal for new kindergarten students. It is a big stepping stone into big kid-hood. I’ll keep an extra eye on her these first couple of days, but I’m sure she’ll have a fantastic time.”

Sharon immediately was put at ease with Alaska’s words. “Thank you so much, that makes me feel a lot better.”

Alaska smiled again at her. “Of course. And in case you have any more concerns, let me give you my cellphone number if you need to contact me for anything. Don’t hesitate.”

Alaska grabbed a red crayon from a bin on the table, and tore off a small piece of construction paper from a nearby shelf of supplies. She knelt down across from Aquaria, quickly writing down her name and number. She stood up and handed the piece of paper to Sharon.

“It was so nice to meet you,” she said, a slight hint of flirtation in her soft voice. Sharon soon found herself standing dumbfounded with the slip of paper in her hands as Ms. Thunder was whisked away to help another student find his seat.

After finally saying goodbye to an anxious Aquaria, Sharon soon once again found herself in her car in the Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot. She stared ahead past the steering wheel and let out a long exhale. My baby is a kindergartener.

As she went to put her car in reverse, she remembered the slip of paper poking out of her purse. She unfolded it to find “Alaska Thunder- (412) 555-0168” written in crayon. Sharon chuckled to herself at how on brand it was for a kindergarten teacher. Construction paper and crayon.

Alaska, Sharon thought. Ms. Alaska Thunder.

Around noon, Sharon was starting to get antsy at work, wondering about how Aquaria’s day was going. Her mind was off track, and she kept delivering food to the wrong tables and having to have customers repeat their orders for her. As her shift lagged on, her performance was getting worse and worse.

When it finally got to her break at 12:30, she found herself holding her phone and the little piece of construction paper with Alaska’s number on it. She thought about not bothering her, but then she also remembered how upset Aquaria was that morning. She had never been away from Sharon for quite that long, and she was worried she was having separation anxiety.

Sharon weighed the odds, and finally decided to text Alaska. She did say to not hesitate, after all. She put in her contact, and started typing her message.

Sharon: Hi, Ms. Thunder. Sorry to bother you. It’s Aquaria Needles’ mom, Sharon. I just wanted to see how the day was going and if Aquaria was still nervous or upset.

Sharon opened the diet coke she had brought with her outside for her break, and tried to relax as she waited for a response. Almost immediately after she put her phone back in her pocket, it buzzed.

Alaska: Hey Sharon! The day has gone swimmingly so far. Aquaria has settled in wonderfully, and she doesn’t seem anxious at all anymore. It’s after-lunch nap time right now, and she is sound asleep on her nap mat next to her new friend Brianna.

Sharon smiled at the news that Aquaria had made a friend. Thank God, she thought.

Sharon: That’s great! Thank you so much for the update. I’ve been worried about her all day.

Sharon took another sip of diet coke, and a new message came through.

Alaska: I’m so glad I was able to make you feel better. See you this afternoon for dismissal!

Sharon put her phone away, pleased, and headed back to work.

It very quickly became time for her to go pick up Aquaria, and as she excitedly drove to the school, her phone started ringing. Her caller ID said it was Alaska.

“Hi, Ms. Thunder. Dismissal is at 3, correct? I’m not late am I? I’m on my way to the school righ-”

Alaska interrupted her hesitantly. “Hi, Sharon… you aren’t late yet. I… umm… I’m afraid there’s been an accident here on the playground at school. Aquaria has fallen off the monkey bars and hurt her arm pretty badly.”

Sharon’s heart sank. “Oh my God, is she okay?!”

“She’s fine, but she should probably get it checked out. She’s in the nurse’s office, so you should go straight there.”

“I will, okay, thank you so much for calling, Alask- Ms. Thunder.”

“Of course. Keep me updated if you will. I’m so sorry.”

Sharon sped into that all too familiar parking lot, and made a beeline into the front of the school.

“Where’s the nurse’s office? My baby is hurt,” Sharon bluntly greeted the receptionist.

“Are you Aquaria’s mom? Poor little thing. She’s in the nurse’s office. Right this way.”

The receptionist led a nerve-wracked Sharon down a slender corridor and into a little makeshift nurse’s office. On the medical bed sat a quietly crying Aquaria nestled in Alaska’s arms, across from an older lady who was presumably the nurse.

Sharon knelt in front of her daughter and cupped her cheeks in her hands. She looked at Alaska worriedly. “Aquaria! Baby! What happened? Are you okay? Tell me everything!”

Aquaria sat up a little, seemingly already less upset now that Sharon had made it there. “I was doing the monkey bars for the very first time with my friend Brianna and then I slipped and fell on my arm and it hurts really, really, really bad.” She tried to gesture with her arms the magnitude of how really, really bad it hurt, and winced when she moved her hurt arm.

“Oh, baby…” Sharon carefully picked up her daughter out of Ms. Thunder’s arms, being extra careful with her hurt arm. As she did so, she looked over Aquaria’s shoulder and mouthed a sincere “thank you so much” to a sweetly smiling Alaska.

Alaska chimed in, “Aquaria was such a big girl climbing on the monkey bars, and then she was so brave after she got hurt, you should be really proud.”

Sharon looked at Aquaria. “You have had a big day, haven’t you Aquaria? And now we should probably go get your arm checked out at the doctor, so it’s not over yet.”

After a couple minutes, Alaska stood up from the bed and lovingly touched Aquaria’s shoulder.

“Alright, ladies, I better get back to my class. Principal Monsoon probably has more important work to do than watch my class watch Magic School Bus. Aquaria, I hope you feel better super soon, sweetie. I can’t wait to have you back at school!”

Aquaria hugged Alaska around the waist with her not-hurt arm. Looking up at her, she quietly proclaimed, “Thank you for taking care of me, Ms. Thunder. I’m so glad you’re my teacher.”

Alaska smiled down at her and responded with an equally quiet, “I’m so glad too.”

Aquaria suddenly winced again, and turning to Sharon, said, “Ok, mama, I think it’s time to go to the doctor now.”

After a painful and emotional car ride to the hospital, Sharon and Aquaria were sat in a semi-crowded waiting room at the emergency room. Aquaria was flipping through an issue of Vogue, looking at the pictures, and Sharon mostly stared at her.

“I’m so sorry your first day went so wrongly, babydoll. I never would have guessed we’d end up here today.”

Aquaria didn’t look up from her magazine. “It’s ok, mama. I should have been more careful. Just because I am a big kid who goes to kindergarten doesn’t mean I don’t need to be careful anymore.”

Sharon smiled at her. “That’s a great point, my pretty.”

Just as she finished speaking, her phone buzzed.

Alaska: Have you gotten any results or anything back yet? Is it broken? Does she need to have a cast? How is she feeling?

Sharon: We’re still in the waiting room, unfortunately. She’s in pretty good spirits, though.

Alaska: Sorry for my overbearing questions. I’m just worried about her. That was a pretty bad fall, and I know those monkey bars are no joke from personal experience.

Sharon: Thank you so much for your concern. And… personal experience?

Alaska: Oh… uhm… I was testing them out? For the kids?

Sharon: Ha, sure, ok.

Sharon chuckles to herself. Aquaria, still not looking up, says, “what’re you laughing at, mama?”

“Oh, nothing, ladybug. Ms. Thunder just said something funny.” Aquaria looks up at Sharon now.

“I like Ms. Thunder,” Aquaria says matter-of-factly, “she’s funny and nice, and when I hurt my arm, she carried me all the way to the nurse’s office and held me the whole entire time, just like you do when I don’t feel good.”

“That’s great, baby,” Sharon smiled, “I like her too.”

Just as they fell into another comfortable silence, Aquaria’s name was called to see the doctor.

The doctor said that she did indeed break her forearm, and that she needed a cast. Aquaria’s main concern, however, was picking the perfect shade for her cast to be.

“I think I am going to pick this beautiful light pink, mama.”

“That is beautiful! But isn’t your favorite color green? Do you want it to be a green cast?”

Aquaria stared at the pink swatch in front of her.

“No, I like this color the best. It is the same one as Ms. Thunder’s nails, and they’re super pretty.”

Sharon laughed lightly. “Okay, babydoll. Whichever you want!”

On the drive home, Aquaria finally told her mom about all the fun things that went on in kindergarten before the dreadful monkey bar incident. She explained how Ms. Thunder taught them songs about nature and counting, about how her friend Brianna sat by her at lunch, and about how there was a mean girl named Eureka that made Brianna cry.

When they finally got home, Sharon finally sat down and got a chance to update Alaska. She told her all about the diagnosis, about how she chose the color of her cast, and Aquaria’s emotional state. Alaska then asked if they needed anything.

Sharon: Oh, no no no. You’ve helped so much already, you don’t even know.

Alaska: Well thank you, but I’m just doing my job! Do you guys at least have something to eat for dinner?

Dinner? Sharon looked at the time. It was already 7pm. Ugh. Shit.

Sharon: Woah, I thought it was like 4. I’m sure I can scrounge up something that will suffice. Thank you again, though

Alaska: You both have had such a crazy day. Let me bring something over, please. It is no problem at all, seriously.

Sharon: No way, that’s way too much trouble!

Alaska: Please, I insist! Just give me your address and I’ll be over asap

Sharon felt a twang of giddiness wash over her. She looked over at Aquaria playing with her barbies on the living room floor (one handed), and smiled. What a crazy day it was turning out to be.

About 20 minutes later, the doorbell rang. Sharon opened it up to Alaska holding four giant bags of food.

“Hi! Thank you for letting me bring dinner! I hope you guys like Chinese food. Also, I hope there’s room in your freezer.” She opened up one of the bags to reveal a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream.

“Oh my god, did Aquaria tell you we had planned to get ice cream after school? I had totally forgotten with everything else going on. Thank you so much!”

Sharon, Aquaria, and Alaska ate and laughed around Sharon’s tiny breakfast table, until there was no Chinese food left and only a little bit of ice cream. They discussed the events of the school day, what happened at the emergency room, the color of Aquaria’s cast, about Alaska’s cat, Poundcake, and her antics. Eventually, Sharon put on a movie for Aquaria, and went back to the table to chat with Alaska.

“So, I’m assuming that not every teacher Aquaria is gonna have is going to bring dinner after the first day of school.”

Alaska laughed. “Probably not, unfortunately.”

“Thank you so much, again. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Getting Chinese takeout is my first day of school tradition, and I’m happy to share it with someone.”

Sharon smiled at her gratefully, then glanced across to see that Aquaria had fallen asleep on the couch.

“We’re happy to have you as well. Even if you don’t bring dinner and ice cream.”

Eventually, it was time for Alaska to head home. Sharon led her to the door, where they both stopped in the doorframe.

“Thank you so much, Alaska. We both had fun, we should do it again.”

“Absolutely! I hope Aquaria feels better soon. She’s had a big day.”

They pause, looking at each other intently. Alaska speaks first.

“Well, I’ll see you both bright and early for day 2 of kindergarten. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Alaska.”

Alaska turns and walks down the first couple steps up Sharon’s front porch. Suddenly she turns, as if having forgotten something. As she opens her mouth to speak, Sharon leaves the threshold and runs towards Alaska, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. They both have frenzied butterflies in their stomachs.

They break apart, again staring intently at each other. This time Sharon breaks the silence.

“See you in the morning, Ms. Thunder.”

Alaska smiles a hazy, blushed grin, and slowly turns to walk to her car, as Sharon watches from the doorframe. Maybe kindergarten wasn’t going to be so frightening after all.

#rpdr fanfiction #shalaska #aquaria & sharon #sharon needles #aquaria #alaska thunderfuck #mom!sharon #fluff #joanne #mother/daughter #parenting au

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k-writer1998 · 4 years

Text

Rebel Hours (11/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter… at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Fluff

w.c: 1.9k exact :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A headache greeted me in the morning and I internally scolded myself for trying to keep up with the boys. As the memories of last night came back to me, one in particular made a smile freeze onto my face… the kiss. Sitting up I grabbed the note I scrawled myself reminding me to plan the hang out, just like I said. I chuckled at how well I knew myself before grabbing my phone. All the smiles dissipated the moment I spotted the time. Shit, I’m gonna be late for class! Ignoring the throbbing in my skull, I rushed to grab an outfit before running to the bathroom to go through my morning routine. After throwing on my clothes I checked the time and cursed, this is one of my major classes and the teacher is strict on attendance so I can’t miss it! Struggling to pull on my sneakers, I grabbed my backpack and ran to class. As I reached the door I spotted the professor down the hall, a glare settling onto me, before ducking into the classroom and taking my normal seat.

Now secured at my desk I could finally take the time to dwell on this weird vibe I’ve been getting from people since I arrived on campus. There were so many eyes on me it felt as if the whole class was looking at me, why did I have to sit in the front? I looked over my clothes and shoes and nothing seemed oddly matched or out of place so what was it? The professor entered and did roll, once he called my name and I replied I heard a series of gasps around me… okay seriously what was going on? Once roll call was over, my mind was able to slow down, taking out my textbooks, and that’s when I saw it. My hair had fallen into my face as I moved about and before I caught the chance to move it the light hit my locks revealing its silver shine rather than the raven black of my wig. Shit. There was no point in hiding now, they heard me during roll call, so I turned the panic out and focused on class. Once class was over I swiftly packed my things and was one of the first people to duck out of class. I immediately called Seunghee as I tried to keep my head down and find somewhere quiet to talk.

“What’s up? Don’t you have a full day of classes today, why are you calling?”

“Seunghee I messed up…”

“What?! What did you do? I swear Jieun-”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear! I went out without my wig and didn’t realize until I was in class. Everyone heard me during roll call and I’m one thousand percent sure I won’t be coming back to the apartment until late. I’ll be ordered home before lunch I’m sure of it,” I sighed.

“God Jieun, why would you drink when you know you have class?”

“I don’t know Seunghee- jeez. What do I do?”

“Well the damage is already done, even if you put the wig on now a handful of people already saw and who knows how many took a picture. Just take this as God’s sign that it’s time to come clean.”

“Ugh this is such a headache. I can already hear the impending argument.”

“Just stay calm and stand your ground. At the end of the day this is your life and you are the one in control. These things make you happy, remember that.”

“Thanks for the support Seunghee.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” she joked.

“For sure.”

I responded with a small chuckle before hanging up the phone. As if he had sensed something wrong, not even a few moments later I received a text from Chan checking up on me.

To: Princess

How’s my girl? Did you make it to class on time?

To: Chan 🖤

Definitely made it to class on time but at the price of my sanity (:

To: Princess

Why, is it the hangover? Sorry, I should’ve stopped you sooner

To: Chan 🖤

Don’t worry about it, the hangover is the least of my problems

To: Princess

What happened? Are you okay?

The concern in his texts made my heart swell, what did I do to deserve someone like him? Rather than trying to explain it fully, I took a quick picture and sent it to him before I answered back.

To: Chan 🖤

Forgot my wig so that cat’s out of the bag. Definitely gonna get scolded by my parents today.

To: Princess

Will you be okay?

To: Chan 🖤

This was bound to happen so I’ll be fine. Plus Seunghee gave me a pep talk already.

To: Princess

That’s gonna be harsh, call me when it’s over?

To: Chan 🖤

Definitely

I continued through my classes with the whispers following me everywhere I went. It wasn’t until after my third class that I got a text from my mother ordering me to come home immediately. The news spread slower than I expected. I simply replied that I will once classes are over and left my phone to buzz at my mother’s outraged messages. Once my classes were finished I went back to my apartment to grab my car keys and left a note for Seunghee to do me a favor. The drive home was oddly peaceful, no anxiety or worries just… calm. When my foot entered the threshold my mother went at me, dragging me to father’s study and sending the maids away.

“How dare you ruin your father’s campaign like this?!”

“Dying my hair is hardly going to ruin father’s campaign,” I rolled my eyes.

“We are campaigning a modest family yet instead you not only went out and dyed your hair that atrocious color you’ve been out fraternizing with boys and wearing ungodly clothes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you think we wouldn’t know what you’ve been up to? I’m sure it's the boy you’ve been seeing, he’s corrupting you.”

“He’s doing nothing of the sort, how do you even know all that… have you been having people watching me?!”

“Well it was the right move to do, seeing as though you were waiting for a critical time during my campaign to act out like this.”

It was the first time father spoke this whole argument and of course it’s about his stupid campaign. Again they are disregarding my privacy and my choices, typical. My fingers curled into fists as I tried to control my temper but the fire was already beyond control and the flames spilled into my words.

“I’m sorry to disappoint your expectations but Chan has nothing to do with my hair. I’ve been dying my hair since my first year at college, oh I got a tattoo too if your spies didn’t already tell you that. I’ve been keeping up appearances for your sake but I’m tired of it. The wigs are itchy and the clothes you have me wear can barely be called fashionable.”

“Then you will dye your hair back to its natural color and you will not see this “Chan” boy anymore because obviously your tastes have changed because of this trouble,” the venom that dripped from Father’s voice as he spoke about Chan made my blood boil.

“You’re not listening! Chan has nothing to do with this, I’ve had my hair like this for years and had those other clothes far longer. I’m tired of living like your doll, me! Why are you trying to blame someone else?”

“It’s already too late, she isn’t in her right mind right now.”

“Kyunghoon is such a good boy, better than this other one. You were barely at the gala before this other boy whisked you off to god knows where. Obviously, you're not thinking clearly. I should talk to Kyunghoon’s parents and-” Mother mused.

“You will most certainly not. Kyunghoon is a sleaze bag. For your sake I’ve been polite to him but I will not have him around me any more than the occasional passing during functions,” I shot back instantly, my skin crawling as flashes of that night flew through my mind once again.

“You will not speak about President Jeon’s son in such a way! If you do not adhere to what I have told you do not think that boy will be safe from harm's way?”

“I won’t. Before I am your daughter, I am my own person. I’ve allowed you to control too much of my life that you are forgetting that this life is my own. If you want to keep your “beloved” daughter and your image of this “perfect” family, then you will let me live my life as I choose because I will not allow you to control me anymore. I am actually happy for once and I will do everything within my power to protect it. I won’t let you guys ruin it again.”

I made direct eye contact with my father as I spoke, challenging him to test the truth behind my words. My father sputtered at my response, his face going red with anger, as I stood there calmly with my head held high. My mother shrieked at me with threats and insults, telling me to leave immediately. I gave a polite bow of my head before turning on my heel and walking out. Sitting in my car, I rested my head on the steering wheel as I let the conversation sink into my mind. Will this probably blow up in my face? Yes, but I’m not alone in this. Things will work out… I’ll make sure of it. I lifted my head and started the car, allowing the drive to calm my nerves. Before I got out of the car to go home I dialled Chan, I wanted to hear his voice.

“So what do I owe the honor of your call tonight?”

“I’m pretty sure we agreed I would call Chan,” I chuckled at his greeting.

“That we did… how was it? On a scale of one to ten, how bad?”

“I would say it was a solid eleven on my parents side but for me, hmm… a good four?”

“You took them for a few rounds didn’t you princess? Finally showing your bad apple I see.”

“I learned from the best didn’t I?”

We both laugh quietly as a silence settles between us, comfortable and warming. His voice wraps around my heart and calms the anxiety that was chewing away at me. That feeling was sadly unavoidable when this was the first occurrence where I stood up to my parents. Before I could really go into a spiral his voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“So did you make it home safe?”

“I am safely in my car at the apartment parking lot. I didn’t want to wait so I called you once I turned the car off.”

“You should go in now, it’s already really late and it’s not safe to lurk in your car at this time of night.”

His voice softened as he urged me to go inside causing a faint smile to grace my face. After a bit more coaxing on his side I reluctantly left the car and made my way up to the apartment where we said our good nights before I slipped in.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #my writing #rebel hours

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