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hanibalistic · 4 years ago

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#FFB7C5 | HWANG HYUNJIN. HAN JISUNG.

genre | fluff, mild angst, gentle magic (basically magic au)

word count | 1378

warning | none

tag | @fluffyskzclub

note | there is no meaning to this piece, i just wanted to describe an almost empty amusement park

there were no cherry blossom trees in the amusement park. it was a shame.

it wasn't like you would be able to see the pink of the cherry blossoms at this time of night, though, and you never did have the luxury of time and money to visit the amusement park in the morning. but you always liked watching the way the petals would twirl like tiny chiffon dresses when they leave their roots.

the way cherry blossom petals dance with the wind is different than other petals and leaves. they always add their own flair to the routine, the baby pinkness in their pigment making the flower storm look pleasant rather than tragic.

people don't look at stray cherry blossoms and think of death, as opposed to fallen dead leaves. that was what made them different, you supposed, that was what made you like them more.

you were used to walking on the trash-less concrete ground of the park, courtesy to its diligent and underpaid staff. it would be such a journey if you could walk along a pink trail alone at night. but, you supposed it was enough to be able to bask on the solitary of an empty amusement park.

correction—an almost empty amusement park.

you could draw it at the back of your hand with your eyes closed, but you could never describe the ambiguity and liminality it gives you to save your life.

it was an odd feeling. it was just an almost empty (has to be almost empty, it was the element of 'not quite yet' that made the space so timeless and alone) park, but whenever you let your sink into the mindset that transcended through time and space, you could feel your skin tingle and your heart thump with unexplainable nostalgia.

the concrete ground beneath you stayed still, yet you felt its core rumble to be released, whatever that lived beneath it.

the street lamps, with the glass shaped into the head of the park mascot, flickered with its warm light where the color reflected the theme of the area.

faceless staffs stood in the booth of each ride, waiting patiently for rare visitors while silently hoping for no one, and the christmas lights taped to the machines sparkled to catch attention.

the chilly wind blew against you as you walked further away from the main attraction of the night—the fireworks.

everyone has already gone to the center of the amusement park to pick the best seat for the show, but your purpose here was not the fireworks but the solitary. you walked away, and the wind howled against you as if to keep you from a secret, and it asked you why? why weren't you with them? why weren't you with the crowd, with the rowdy ones?

"you're going to catch a cold like this."

a jacket hung itself around your shoulders. it made you flinch in surprise, then you turned your head to where the unfamiliar voice came from only to find yourself looking at a friend.

an estranged friend, you would say. he and you haven't been in contact for a while since you decided to leave the relationship and leave an awkward trail between the two of you.

"hyunjin..." you muttered under your breath, looking him up and down. "what are you doing here?"

"jisung was asking about you. he had no idea where you went and he got worried," he replied casually as he shoved his hands in his pockets after carding them through his long black hair. "you didn't tell him?"

"about what?"

he raised a brow. "your habit of leaving the house at night just to spend hours in the amusement park doing nothing?"

you licked your lower lip. "i will after today."

"just like when you first told me," he said with a giggle, nodding his head.

the ground rumbled stronger when he laughed. you felt it in the chills of your bones how the amusement park was reacting with you to each and every of hyunjin's movement; the shaking of the gravity when you saw him, the gust of wind when he ruffled his hair, and the imbalance of the soil ground when he laughed.

you weren't sure if the park felt resonance or pity for you, considering it has watched you two grow and break with each other. it was here before you two were a thing, it was here when you two were a thing, and it was here when you two were no longer together.

it knew how much you loved him, how much you still do love him, and how terrible it was that jisung was supposed to be the boy who occupied your entire heart.

maybe it was nostalgia it felt. the love so pure it once witnessed has faded into the vined walls where you two used to lean against, lips sealed and eyes closed. it couldn't even dream of you two now if it wanted to.

"i guess i didn't change," you said quietly as you brought his jacket tighter around your torso.

hyunjin stayed silent.

the way he knew to find you here immediately was not lost on him, neither was the fact that he knew exactly how long you have walked alone for and where exactly you were on this map.

those factors he should have allowed himself to forget with time showed nothing but his lasting affection for you—he still loves you, he still wants you, and if you were to leave jisung to run back to him, he would take you.

"no you didn't," he said then. "not at all."

you paused when he sided with you, and you sighed.

no, you haven't changed.

the breakup stunned you. hyunjin destroyed you for weeks and months. but, even then, you still love him, you still want him, and if he was to leave the girl he is with to run back to you, you would take him.

you have not changed.

the jacket on your shoulders disappeared when the wind blew against you again. your hands left the soft fabric you cultivated through your memories, and you felt like crying when you saw shadows of your pasts stranding in every corner of this amusement park. but the wind blew, it howled, cried, screamed for you to heed its advice—forget him! forget him! he is no longer yours!

you flinched with a soft yell when the fireworks burst and a hand tapped your shoulder. you whipped around, eyes wide in alert only to find a panting boy standing before you with his back hunched for support.

"jisung," you called.

"you idiot! i looked everywhere for you!" he scolded, putting his hands on his hips. "fuck, this place is huge!"

"you came to find me?" you asked.

he squinted his eyes at the wind before he casually unzipped his jacket and draped it on your shoulder, helping your arms into its sleeves. "yeah? i wasn't sure if you would be here but i took a leap of faith."

hyunjin didn't do that when he first found out you were gone for hours at night.

he finished bundling you up in a warm jacket, then he grabbed your hand and turned toward the other end of the amusement park, away from the fireworks. you looked at up carefully, surprised and warmed, but he seemed to have taken the look on your face as a look of incredulity, so he whined out a complaint.

"what? you told me many times before, didn't you? you like walking in the amusement park, doing nothing, not looking at the fireworks—blah blah," he rolled his eyes, "so walk! we'll take a detour and go home."

the lamp flickered, but it dimmed when you looked up at it and smiled. it understood what you meant—jisung was a little mean and rushed, and perhaps even awkward at times, but he always meant well, and that was only the attitude crafted from a long friendship turned relationship.

you were fine, you told the amusement park.

he came to find you. he chose to walk with you.

"this boy has cherry blossom petals," you told the amusement park.

jisung tilted his head questioningly. "huh?"

you laughed. "nothing."

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

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Bowling Ball Baby

Franklin x Female Pregnant Reader

(Franklin is MGG’s character from beginner’s luck)

Gif courtesy of the ever wonderful @imagining-in-the-margins

A/N: I have recently become obsessed with Franklin because of @httpnxtt and @sunlight-moonrise so I decided to write some fluff with a dash of angst for him. I also have smut upcoming for this character as well. Thanks to my beta readers @sunlight-moonrise and @definitelynotkatesblog y’all are amazing!

Warnings: Fluff with a dash of angst, marital dispute at the beginning (is later resolved, and a few swear words.

Masterlist Word count: 1.9k (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

Fighting with Franklin always left me at rock bottom. We both had feisty personalities but still didn’t fight often, usually just scathing quips when we were irritated. On the rare occasions when we did explode into a fight it was full of screaming, crying, and hurtful comments. Our tempers had been close to boiling over for a while now, my pregnancy hormones were making me extremely irritable and Franklin’s feisty demeanor didn’t exactly mesh well with that.

My 8 month pregnant belly felt like I was lugging around a bowling ball constantly, my back felt like it was being broken everyday. I constantly felt like I was standing on pins and needles, plus the baby felt the need to show me just how strong she or he was by kicking me in the ribs.

The fight had started after Franklin came home from work, I was sitting on our couch with my feet propped up and covered in an ice pack to relieve some of the stinging pain. Unfortunately for my poor swollen feet the ice pack did little to dull the throbbing.

“Hey, Frankie?” I called, hoping I could convince him to swap out the thawing ice pack for a frozen bag of peas.

“Not now, I’m busy.” He answered shortly, his back facing away from me, not fully acknowledging my presence. He was usually extra irritable after work; he felt trapped in his job, like it was holding him back from his dream of bowling professionally..

I huffed loudly, not that he could hear it from the other room, doing god knows what. He returned in a rush with his bowling ball bag in his hand, headed for the door, his Big Z Tires shirt hastily thrown on. My mouth fell open when I realized he was leaving for the alley.

“You’re leaving?” I squeaked, watching him while he hastily shoved a bagel in his mouth.

“I’ve got to go to practice” he muffled around a mouthful, sounding annoyed. I always supported Franklin and his dreams of being the best bowler in Little Falls, but this time I wasn’t going to let him escape his responsibilities of our relationship so easily.

“Could you skip today?” Treading lightly by asking softly. “We haven’t spent any time with each other in like a month and even then it was at the alley.”

His face switched from being annoyed to enraged despite my asking nicely, he was still going to get pissed off- figures.

“How could you be so inconsiderate- you know how important this is to me and the whole town!” he yelled. I was spooked but quickly composed myself before replying.

“I’m not being inconsiderate, you're never here.” I stated in a deadly tone, I didn’t want to make this worse by joining in on his raised voice. “I understand it’s the most important thing in Little Falls, but shouldn’t our baby be more important to you?!”

All I got in response was a dismissive scoff. I could feel myself getting angrier, we’d both said we wanted a baby and for the past month he acted like he couldn’t care less.

“You might as well go move into the bowling alley.” I mumbled under my breath, fiery spite fueling my words.

“Even with the pins, it’d still be quieter than your nagging.” he shot back.

“Excuse me?!” Now it was my turn to shout; he just had to continue to stoke the fire increasing in my belly. I waddled my way to stand right in front of him, ignoring the pain of my swollen feet. I didn't want him to wiggle his way out, if he wanted an argument he was going to get one, he was the one who started it after all.

“All you’ve done is whined and complained these past few weeks.” He was acting like a hypocrite, whining and complaining to me about something we both agreed to do together. I had never felt more alone.

“How would you know? You’re never here to spend time with me!” The timbre of my voice cracked as my heart started to shatter.

“Just stop, ok? I get it you’re pregnant but come on Y/N it can’t take that much hard work!” That comment was the straw that broke the camel's back, my anger turned to melancholy as hot tears spilled over onto my cheeks as I waddled away as fast as I could back to our bedroom.

I could hear his desperate voice trying to get me to come back, offering any pleading or begging he could think of, but I wasn’t having it. As I got to our room I slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it tight so he couldn’t follow me. If he wanted to act like a dick, he'll sleep on the couch for the night. Knocks started to hit the door with his voice barely permeating through the wood imploring me to let him in.

Tears fell down my cheeks while I rubbed my belly, all I wanted was for us to be a happy family, but I needed Franklin to be fully committed. Sinking down onto our bed I contemplated where this left us. I almost packed a bag to stay with a friend for the night but I was too tired to go through with it, the fighting had taken all the energy out of me. The mattress cuddled my body but it wasn’t as good as Franklin, which only made the drops fall harder. My sadness deepened when the knocks stopped, the room now a void, offering no comfort to me. Dread sat in my belly as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

~~~

Physically and emotionally I was strung out, I was in no mood to talk or argue so I had been tiptoeing around Franklin all day, his behavior had made me seriously start to question if he was truly invested in our relationship. Once dinner rolled around I padded my way into the kitchen, the baby had been craving some sweets and I was highly considering just binging on candy.

I glanced over to the stove to find a ridiculous sight standing before me. Franklin had his bowling shirt on- he honestly rarely took it off and had about 5 of them. Covering most of the front of his yellow button up was a baby sling I had bought a few weeks ago in preparation, in it sat my old purple bowling ball I used when I was in Highschool. He must’ve dug it out of our closet as I hadn’t used it since our last competition senior year. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I reminisced about the old team where we’d first met. I gazed at the 8 pound perfectly round ball, weighing down and stretching the fabric directly in the middle, it looked exactly like what you’d think a bowling ball in a baby sling would look- ridiculous.

“I remember you saying you’ve been craving something sweet so I decided to make pancakes for dinner, I even added chocolate chips.” He spoke, breaking me out of my memory. I hadn’t even noticed he was making pancakes, my focus on the bowling ball strapped to his stomach.

“We’re not going to talk about the bowling ball?”

“Well I was being a dick-” I swiftly cut him off. My rage was being stoked slightly by his whimsical attitude, I couldn’t tell if he was trying to cheer me up or was really that thick and couldn’t understand my frustrations.

“Yeah, that’s the understatement of the century.” I’m sure the steely edge to my tone was not lost on Franklin, and I still wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of eye contact.

“Like I was saying- I was being a dick and I was thinking to myself, ‘Frankie she’s carrying the weight of the relationship right now. You want to get inside a woman’s head? You become a woman.’ So I thought I’d join you in solidarity- as an apology.”

Silence filled my part of the conversation as I pondered his words. It certainly was an odd way for someone to make up a fight, usually people bought flowers, chocolate, or go on a fancy date. Franklin, however, always had a way of apologizing in the most obnoxious and ridiculous ways that were incredibly sweet, but also made me want to bang my head against the wall. He had stopped flipping the pancakes, anxiously awaiting my reply to his apology. The slight char they were getting wafted a burnt smell through the air.

“This is the first thing you thought of for an apology?” I giggled out breaking the tense silence, his shoulders relaxed as he let out an audible puff of breath. I may have found this funny but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook just yet.

“Well- you know me, I’m not very good at apologies.” He said in a regretful tone, turning back to the pancakes finally removing the almost carbonized pancake from the skillet. A cringe made its way onto his face after catching sight of the rubbery burnt cake and swiftly chucked it in the trash. “I really am sorry Y/N.”

“You’re saying that now because your back hurts- Am I right?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, still not fully accepting this apology.

“No, that’s not the main reason I’m apologizing, but yes, oh my god my back fucking hurts.” His right hand started to massage his sore back as his other poured in the last scrapes of pancakes, sprinkling it with an exorbitant amount of chocolate chips. My mouth was watering at the sight and delicious aroma.

“How long have you been wearing it?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the heavenly scent.

“Like 10 minutes, I totally understand why you waddle now” Flipping over the last pancake, he started to set the table, his waddles were even more awkward compared to mine because of his long limbs.

“Well now that you understand, you’d better be massaging my feet everyday to make up for it.” I sharply stated though I couldn’t help but slip in a few giggles in between. I had been carrying this baby close to 9 months and Franklin could barely handle 10 minutes without keeling over.

“Yes, of course. I promise.” He set the plates of pancakes down on our round table, then pulled out one of the chairs and helped me sit down. I noticed that he had even set up the silverware in its supposed proper place along with the napkins folded into little triangles, he did go all out to make it up to me.“You know, you're the actual god in this family.” He remarked as he slung off the baby sling, relieving the tension from his back. I wished I could do the same.

“I love you, you big weirdo.” I snorted in response. While his godliness was usually referring to his bowling skills, it was nice to have my literal creation and carrying of life inside of me acknowledged too.

“I love you too” He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing soft kisses to my neck and rubbing my belly, silently assuring me that everything would be alright.

#franklin #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #franklin x reader #mgg #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #beginner’s luck #franklin imagine #franklin fanfic #franklin fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic

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yungimmortals · 3 years ago

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PROPHS EDIT + GLITCH AESTHETIC [30/?]

↳ CHASE PETERSON

you still dream about the people lost in your memory, fabricated by your nostalgia, and romanticized by your lovesick heart [ @halfgclden ]

#prophs edit #cabin: morpheus #chase peterson love of my life c'''''''':

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fully-random-blog · 3 years ago

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"You still dream about the people lost in your memory, fabricated by your nostalgia, and romanticized by your broken heart."

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onthepageoftears · 4 years ago

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Hold Them Closer ~ Ch.7 [Jaskier x assassin!reader] || Witcher

A/N: It’s been less than a week and school is kicking my ass :) lol anyway i hope yall enjoy this chapter!

Summary: All that lies ahead is a skeleton of what you called home.

Warnings: mentions of killing/death/murder, insinuations of attack, language, slight angst and comfort

Words: 2,638

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

The sky was bright, not a cloud to block any of the sun’s shine. The local farmers wiped tirelessly at the sweat that formed on their foreheads, but still, they smiled. Days like this didn’t come often, so a smile was a silent thank you to whoever blessed them with the hopeful weather.

You watched the square with a smile on your face, noticing the uplift in everyone’s spirits. A chicken walked aimlessly past the well that sat in the middle of the area, where your mother was gathering some water to bring back to your house. You giggled as she pulled the bucket from the well, accidentally sloshing some water onto the chicken’s back. It clucked, rushing past your mother and shaking its body to rid itself of water. But even in the chicken’s annoyance, it was probably happy as well. It was a nice day for everyone, no matter what happened.

You opened your eyes, almost shocked by the sight in front of you. Your memory hit you like whiplash as you stood in front of your now abandoned village, the darkness of night looming over you, almost as a threat. Even in the daytime you guessed that your village would feel dark and dim, now empty of the life you once witnessed it having.

You sighed, placing your hands on your knees as you kneeled in the same spot you once did as a child. Though you told yourself this could very well lead to nothing, the fact that it did make your heart shrink. At the very least, you thought you could ask the locals what happened to your mother — but there was no one here. Not a trace of anything, it seemed. It was a lost cause.

Footsteps crunched behind you, but you didn’t bother to turn. Next to you, Jaskier kneeled, placing a hand on your back with a sigh. He didn’t say anything for a bit — just watched the scene before you, waiting for you to speak.

To him, this place was just another abandoned village. You came across many of them before, stayed in some empty houses for a night despite the risk of them collapsing right then and there — but this…this was your home. It was the only home you considered calling home, despite the many places you and Rauf stayed in. And now, it was ruined.

“How did you know this was your village?”

You shrugged at Jaskier’s question, “I just…knew.” You took a sharp breath in, “And I still have the memories.”

He nudged you gently. “Tell me about them.”

You blinked as he looked over at you, avoiding his gaze. You kept your eyes on the well whose roof was on the brink of falling over. “This area was always so…alive. Kids would run around barefoot with chickens chasing after them for stealing eggs.”

You snorted, but your face stayed grim. “I thought they would still be here. Kids wandering, people doing their chores and…waiting to go home for supper.” You fought the tears that brimmed your eyes as you turned to Jaskier, whose face was as grim as yours. “What happened here?”

“I don’t know.” Jaskier took your hand in his own, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “I don’t know what it was like before, but I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. The life. Even if it is just my imagination.”

He watched you a moment longer, squeezing your hand so you would focus on him once more. “Let’s look around. You never know what we might find.”

With a deep breath, you let Jaskier pull you up with him, though standing felt like a chore in itself. Your limbs were heavy as the two of you walked through the village, passing Geralt a couple times on the short walk.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, part of you not believing it was real. Though you left at a young age, the memories flooded you with every step, making what you were seeing so much worse. The houses that were now decrepit were once strong, with torches just by the front doors and someone sitting in a chair saying hello to their neighbors. The emptiness was shocking, and every time you felt it overwhelming you, you squeezed Jaskier’s hand.

Despite your weariness, Jaskier led the two of you inside some of the buildings. It was strange, entering houses that you knew people had lived in before. It wouldn’t have been strange if you didn’t remember the village, but knowing your neighbors once lived in these places — laughed, breathed, slept, ate — you felt like an intruder. Maybe you were one.

However long your village had been abandoned, it didn’t seem like stragglers found this place. If they did, they didn’t think it was worth it to stop and steal the leftover items. Some houses still had good blankets, leftover food (not that it was still good), forgotten coin. Others didn’t have the same luxury — they were ransacked, all essentials gone, leaving any useless items behind. That could only mean that the people from your village left in a hurry, or didn’t get the chance to leave at all.

The thought made you shiver, but maybe it was the cool air. The sky was almost completely dark by now, and the three of you met in the same square that you had been sitting in before. Geralt had a fire started already, acknowledging you and Jaskier with a grim nod as you sat across from him.

Jaskier was the first to speak, “I don’t understand.” No one responded. You were too busy staring at the embers that flew towards the sky, disappearing just as quickly as they appeared. Jaskier continued anyway, “What would make everyone just…up and leave?”

Geralt grunted. “Bandits?”

You took a sharp breath through your nose, eyes flicking to the ground in front of you. “That, or assassins.” You didn’t wait for a response to continue. “From his entries, I don’t think Rauf came back. But maybe his men did.”

The words settled in the silence of the night, making you shiver. Rauf lied about so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to mention that his men tried to find your mother for him. He wasn’t the type to forgive and forget, clearly. So why would he have truly let your mother live? He was too much of a coward to kill her himself, so he might as well have sent people to do his dirty work for him.

It’s not like it would be the first time.

Jaskier touched your arm gently, bringing you back to reality. “Your house — do you remember where it is?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Of course,” you whispered. How could you forget? You directed Jaskier away from it purposefully, not wanting to face what might have happened there. So many times you had visited your home in your dreams, but nothing good ever came from it. You feared it would be too painful to see the state of your house, because then, the memories you had clutched onto so delicately might perish forever.

When Jaskier didn’t answer you, you croaked out a, “Why?”

It was Geralt who responded. “Whoever came here didn’t come to loot.”

You turned your gaze to Geralt, wondering what he was getting at. “What do you mean?”

Jaskier spoke, “Some houses had stuff taken out of it, but others were left practically untouched.”

“Looters would never leave that much coin behind. Not unless they were blind.”

You blinked, letting their words swirl around your mind. You had noticed the same things, but the pieces hadn’t formed in your head. Perhaps your nostalgia was making your brain foggier than usual. You frowned at the information, working out the facts out loud.

“So the people who came here had a goal.” Your frown deepened. “It must have been Rauf’s assassins.”

“Maybe. But still—“ Jaskier turned to you, thoughtfulness etched in his face, “If we check your house…well, what I’m trying to say is — if the essentials are taken…maybe your mother got away.”

Maybe she got away. The thought made a spark ignite in your chest. As soon as it was there, you pushed it back. You didn’t want to be disappointed again, so you set your lips in a tight line.

“She could have left before the attack.”

Jaskier nodded, hope still surfacing his blue irises. “But if we check the house, you’ll be able to tell what stuff was hers, right? You’ll be able to know if she was living there when they…attacked.”

You pondered this, considering the man’s words. Though your memories were a bit scattered, you could remember your home relatively clearly. With a deep breath in, you pushed yourself up from the ground beneath you.

“Let’s go.”

—

The house stood before you, though stood was a strong word. The outside felt…off, definitely lower to the ground than it had been before. Still, it was too dark to truly tell, despite the makeshift torch Jaskier held. But it definitely wasn’t as you remembered it. It wasn’t nearly as comforting to see as it might have been in your memories.

“I can go in for you,” Jaskier said, his voice just above a whisper.

You shook your head, “No. I have to see this myself.”

You forced your feet to step forward, Jaskier just behind you. You blinked, noticing that the door to your old house wasn’t just open — it had been ripped off the hinges.

You let out a breath and pushed aside any fear that lingered in your movements. Stalling wouldn’t help anybody.

But as soon as your feet past the threshold, it felt like you were transported. Despite the darkness outside, you remembered the mornings with your mother making you breakfast, when the sun had begun shining through the windows and leaving rays of light on the cracked floors. You remembered the hum of your mother’s voice, the scratchy fabric of your homemade clothes, the way the wood floor felt under your bare feet.

“Come eat, Y/N.” You turned our head to the right, where your mother cut the bread she had just made onto the small table your father made not long ago.

You rushed to the food — it wasn’t much, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t know what you were missing, or that this wasn’t the usual food everyone ate. Your mother had done a good job of hiding the fact that you were quite poor, trying to keep your innocence as long as possible.

As you took small bites of your bread, you watched your mother walk out of the main room and into the room where the three of you slept — it was a small area, with no door, and only two beds. Your father and mother would squeeze into one of the twin sized beds, leaving you the other. But right now, your mother wasn’t going to lay down, she was going to get something. Something important.

You blinked in the darkness of the room, slightly overwhelmed by the memory.

“What are you thinking?” Jaskier’s voice nearly startled you, but you shrugged it off.

After the flash of your memory, you immediately felt a pit in your stomach. The main room was practically ripped to shreds — the table you used to eat at was cracked in half, drawers ripped from their places, items thrown on the floor, forgotten.

You slammed your eyes closed, hoping some of your memories would help you. The state of your old home made your stomach churn, but what Jaskier said before circled your mind. Just because it looked like a wreck didn’t mean she was killed — it just meant the people who did this were sent to wreak havoc if she wasn’t. The only way to know if your mother got away was if there was something important, something essential, that she needed to take with her.

The memory you recalled from before hit you again:

“What’s that?” You said, swallowing the last of your breakfast. Your eyes were wide with curiosity as your mother sat at the table beside you; she cradled something in her palms, a somewhat serious expression on her face.

“My sweet, sweet child. You know I love you very much, and I love our life more than anything.”

You nodded. Your mother was always a positive person, a charmer. It was no wonder so many people loved her.

Even so, she was quite a lonely woman. A lot of her time was spent taking care of you while your father worked as much as possible. You loved it, having her company — still, she was a dreamer. She wanted more for the both of you, however she had to get it.

She continued talking to you, but was mostly talking to herself.“I appreciate everything your father does for us…but someday, it might not be enough. And I fear that we may need to make a change, soon.” You didn’t interrupt her, eyes still trained on her closed palms. “This is a very important item. It was passed down from my mother to me, and is meant to be passed to you as well.”

You widened you eyes even more, captured by her statement. Wordlessly, she opened her palms, revealing the shiniest thing you had ever seen. It was a necklace with some sort of jewel at the center of it — even though you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew it was probably worth a lot.

“Your father doesn’t know about this. Because this gift is yours as much as it is mine, I want to ask your permission for something.” You blinked, surprised by your mother’s forwardness. You were only eight after all, so a decision being placed on your shoulders felt strange. Still, you listened to your mother like her words meant everything to you — because they did. “If we sell our necklace, we can start a new life. We can have our own shop, maybe even a small farm—“

You perked up, “And animals?”

Smiling, your mom nodded. “And animals.” She reached forward to rub a crumb off your cheek, her eyes full of love.“What do you say?”

You smiled, “Okay.”

To you, the memory only lasted seconds. It was hazy at best, a jumble of expressions and feelings that didn’t make all that much sense. But what you knew for sure was that your mother saw that piece of jewelry as the key to your future, and would never have left the house without it.

Without a word, you trudged past the wreckage and walked into the side room where you used to sleep. Your heart was thumping in your chest as you leaned down, hope falling in you as the hiding spot in the floorboards was already ripped open. Swallowing your fear, you reached your hand into the crevice, feeling around the space like your hand would burn if it touched anything other than the ground.

With a breathy laugh, you stood from your spot, turning back to Jaskier in the darkness.

You could see his confusion in the light of the torch. “What is it?”

You smiled slowly, hope rumbling in your chest. Never in your life had the absence of something meant so much — but right now, finding a seemingly priceless jewel would have ruined your entire journey.

You nodded your head at Jaskier, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him towards you in a passionate kiss, feeling one of his hands find the small of your back.

When you pulled away, you kept your forehead to his, a smile finding it’s way on your face. “She got away.”

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:O let me know your thoughts!

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