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serickswrites · 5 months ago

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Lonely Place of Longing

Master post here (includes character bios, summary, and chapter links)

Warnings: restraints, blood, cut, wounds, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee, captivity of sorts

“Welcome to Scutus, Halle Corvus,” Samuel Rex, spokesman of Scutus, said, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thank you very much for giving me this opportunity,” Halle said enthusiastically. Halle had always wanted to make a difference with her life. She knew that Scutus—with their unprecedented efforts to keep the world safe—was the best way to do so. Though she had limited military training, and absolutely no background in technology management, somehow Halle had managed to get the job.

“Let me take you to your team. You’re going to be assigned to Alpha Team. They’re our most active. I’ll let Thomas Petri fill you in on your duties. He is your direct superior, team leader, and you are to report to him.”

“Understood. Thank you, Samuel.” Halle hurried along to follow Samuel. Though Samuel’s hair was grey and thinning, he was surprisingly spry for a man his age.

“There are several teams. But Alpha has the most unusual members. Ah, Thomas, there you are,” Samuel stopped in the hallway as he almost collided with a hulking figure. Thomas easily stood a head taller than Samuel. And a head and a half taller than Halle. He looked down at Halle with warm, dark eyes.

“You must be my new medic.”

Halle nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir! I won’t let you down.”

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. They’re in our portion of Tectus. What has Samuel told you about our team?” Thomas walked quickly. Halle had to half jog to keep up.

“That you are very active as a team. And that you have…” Halle’s voice trailed off. How would Thomas take to having his team called unusual?

“We have a pretty big team. I’ll introduce you to them all in time. But I have to warn you. We have something assigned to our unit that makes us indispensable. Your job will be to manage and take care of that thing.”

“I won’t let you down. I promise,” Halle said eagerly.

“Do you know what a living weapon is, Halle?” Thomas asked, completely ignoring Halle’s promises.

Halle stopped walking. A living weapon. She had heard of them of course. But never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever see one, let alone work with one. They were supposedly the most dangerous assets Scutus had at their disposal. Their enemies, of course, also had living weapons. A great number of them. Weapons were allegedly easily corruptible. Weapons were typically very, very evil. They had to be kept under lock and key at all times. Halle nodded. “They’re a human, well they were human to start with. And they’ve been imbued with…”

“With powers that make them more dangerous than an army of regular soldiers.”

Halle swallowed. So it was true. Living weapons really could level a city by themselves.

“We have one. He’s called Dylan. Your job is simple, Halle. Keep Dylan alive. Patch him up when we bring him back. And keep him in his quarters. He isn’t to be trusted with any freedom. No matter how much he asks, you can never let him out of our quarters unsupervised. Do I make myself clear?”

Halle nodded.

“And, Halle, please remember he is dangerous. He is deadlier than any gun, knife, or projectile you will ever see. Please remember that.”

Halle nodded again and continued to follow Thomas. She half heartedly listened to Thomas introduce her to Alpha Team. Over a dozen names and faces to memorize. But none of them were the weapon. And Halle’s mind kept drifting to the weapon. What was he like? What were his powers? Would he hurt Halle? Would he try to escape and hurt the rest of the team?

After what felt like hours of introductions, but Halle realized it may have only been half an hour, Thomas was leading her away from the rest of the team. “Dylan’s room is down this hall. I hope you don’t mind, it’s where we had to put your room.” Thomas looked a touch embarrassed. “No one wants to stay down here near him. I’ve put in a work order to repurpose our library into a living quarters. Once that’s nearly ready we can convert your room to the library and then you can move. I’m sorry.”

No one even wanted to sleep near the weapon. How evil was he? “It’s ok. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Thank you.” Thomas knocked loud and hard on a door at the end of the hall.

“Dylan! Open up!” Thomas called gruffly. “You have a new keeper. Come meet her!”

The door swung open to reveal a small, spartan room. A bed was tucked into a corner, blanket neatly tucked in. A desk was not too far from there, a small stack of books and papers in the center. Halle could see a small balcony, opposite the door, that overlooked Tectus’s grounds. Halle swallowed as she realized the balcony was caged in. The other window had bars. There was no escaping this room.

Thomas strode into the center of the room and turned to face the door. “Dylan, meet Halle Corvus. Halle this is Dylan.”

Dylan leaned against the wall. His pale blonde hair curled softly at his collar and he watched Halle with icy blue eyes. He was tall and lean, though his build didn’t betray the power that lurked beneath. His clothes were plain—black shirt tucked into black pants, with black boots. The only thing adorning him were the silvery cuffs at his wrists—cuffs that Halle knew kept him from accessing his power.

“Nice to meet you, Halle,” Dylan said, his voice surprisingly soft. Halle fully expected his voice to be low, grating. She didn’t expect a soft, pleasant sounding voice.

Halle swallowed twice before replying. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted. Dylan you are to give Halle a run down of your medical history and what she may need to know to be better than your last keeper. Actually, you can also let her patch up that cut from our mission this morning. It’s a small one, Halle. Won’t take you that long. I’ll check back in with you, Halle, in,” Thomas looked at his watch, “an hour. I have a briefing with Delta Team to get to.”

Before Halle could protest, Thomas left. Halle stood in the center of the room, her heart in her throat. Thomas left her alone. With a living weapon. A being so dangerous he was kept in a room that was essentially a cage. And he had his powers suppressed at all times.

“Are you afraid of me?” Dylan asked quietly. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t attempted to get closer to Halle. Hadn’t tried to run out the door behind Thomas.

Halle licked her suddenly dry lips. “Yes.”

Dylan nodded. “Good. You should be.” He crossed the room and flopped onto his stomach on the bed. Halle could see a long, still bleeding cut, running the length of the weapon’s back from his left shoulder to his right hip.

The weapon propped his head up on his arms. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you unless Thomas tells me to.”

“Do you always do as Thomas asks?”

The weapon lay his cheek on his arm. “Yes. I am to always listen to Thomas.” The weapon sighed. “The last one didn’t last long. There’s no shame in quitting. I won’t blame you.”

“What?”

“My last keeper. He quit after three days. It’s ok if you are too scared. You can quit. Everyone does eventually.” The weapon seemed to say the last more to himself than Halle.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” If she got to work she could ignore the weapon and his ice cold eyes.

“In my med bay.”

“You have your own?” This unit was much fancier than Halle thought. Each member got their own private med bay. Just how large was this space?

The weapon closed his eyes as though he was suddenly very weary. “No one wanted to share with me.”

Halle was silent. What do you even say to that? She looked around for the door to the med bay.

“You don’t need to dress it, Halle. It will clot soon. Probably.”

“You’ll ruin your sheets.”

“Isn’t the first time. Won’t be the last time.”

Halle very much did not want to be alone in the room with the weapon any longer. But she had a job to do. So she crossed the room to a door that she thought might lead to another room. She was right. The med bay was well stocked. She grabbed some gauze and anti septic so she could dress the wound.

Halle worked in silence. And the weapon was silent. Halle expected him to fill Halle in on his medical history while she worked. Expected him to say anything. But the weapon merely lay there and let Halle clean and dress the wound. “I don’t think it needs stitches. But I could glue it if—“

“It’s fine, Halle.” The weapon pulled his shirt off and over his head. His back and chest were littered with scars, some older, some newer. “Here’s my medical history. I can’t get sick. I can’t remember if I did before…before I came here.”

Halle marveled at the scars. How was the weapon still alive? Some of them were serious, grievous wounds. “Anything else I should know?”

The weapon shook his head. He opened another door to reveal a small closet. He tossed the soiled shirt into a bin. He pulled another shirt from the drawer and put it on. “I am glad to meet you, Halle. No matter how long you stay here.”

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#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #tw restraints #tw blood #tw wounds #tw cuts #hurt/aftermath #hurt/comfort #caretaker and whumpee #tw captivity #of sorts #'lonely place of longing'#my ocs

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bijouxcarys · 9 months ago

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You guys are gonna have to forgive me if I come across a bit *off* in the next few days or so.

To be brief, it’s currently 00:39am, and April 25th. It’s been 2 years since my grandfather died. He was basically my dad. I called him dad. My grandparents have always had custody over me. They are my parents.

My grandad had kidney failure and was on dialysis since March 10th 2010. He was told he would only have 2-3 years if he was lucky. My grandad, being the stubborn and determined person he was, made it a whole 12 years going in and out of hospitals 4 times a week. Just so he could live to see me grow up, to be here for my grandma and I, and to make sure I didn’t grow up without a father figure in my life.

He wasn’t a typical father figure by any means. He was in an electric wheelchair the whole time I knew him. He had limited mobility. I grew up learning from him, however, that life’s pleasures can still be enjoyed.

He introduced me to the beauty of film and music. He taught me how to do algebra when I was 7 for no reason at all. He taught me how to play sudoku from the age of 9. He let me watch the same films over and over again. He stayed up with me when I was sick. He encouraged me to sing in public. He was brutally honest with me. He taught me how to defend myself, to stick up for myself.

Late 2021, when I was 19 and in my second year of university, he started to think about stopping his dialysis treatments. And by April 2022, the pain he was in, the fact he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, was constantly tired, became too much. He made the bravest decision, and for the first time in his life, a selfish one.

I watched him over the course of 5 days deteriorate, cry in excruciating pain. I watched him die slowly. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did, and we were promised as much. But eventually he let go after days of fighting to savour every last moment of life.

The day before he died, his eyes, which were usually clouded in grey, shone the brightest blue I’ve ever seen in my life. I remember leaning over him into his line of sight. And I will never forget the smile on his face when he saw me. That’s how I choose to remember him. That was the moment I anointed him my Bright Eyed Superman.

He taught me that good people exist. Because he was one of them. The most selfless, caring, loving, generous human being I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.

And I got to call him my dad. How lucky am I?

#personal #my dad #loss of a loved one

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nicromancytarot · 7 months ago

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REINCARNATION AND TRAUMA

Found this in my drafts from months ago lmao, so here you go!

Hello! I am here to chat more shit because I’m bored and wish to entertain the few who care (I’m also procrastinating making dinner which is a delicious chicken roast which shall take me around two hours to make and it’s already half 8 at night #rip)

MY OPINION ON REINCARNATION

This time last year I told myself that I would never reincarnate again if I had the opportunity to do so, perhaps it appears selfish, and now looking back on it, I think based on what I know now, me refusing to reincarnate is selfish, but only for me. I don’t think choosing not to reincarnate would be selfish as a whole, but knowing what I know now, I would say that me deciding not to reincarnate is somewhat selfish.

The start of this year and the end of last I did a past life meditation, I already knew about two of my past lives, one where I was just heavily oppressed and died, another where I was a religious leader who got condemned for breaking my vow of abstinence, and my most impactful one for this life which I will get into.

I did a past life meditation at the end of last year, my intention was just to find the past life that affects this one the most, and now I feel very much healed from past trauma which is crazy.

DISCLAIMER: Only do a past life meditation if you can actually handle it mentally. I discovered the meditations in 2020, was not ready until late 2023, so take that as you will.

When doing the meditation I saw myself, I was a man, not too sure how old or at what time I was living, but it felt to be maybe the 80’s-90’s, it felt surprisingly recent. I went into the kitchen, and there stood my three children. The oldest boy I called by the name of “Sonny” or “Sunny”, but I don’t know if that was his name, may have rather been a nickname.

Going a tad back in time, I was trying to figure out the name of someone of importance to me back in November last year, and that’s when my guide proceeded to spell out the name “Anna Ray”, I don’t know anyone called Anna Ray, or even anyone called Anna, so I was confused and let it be.

Now back to current time, so I’m in the kitchen and standing by my three children when a woman, beautiful with pale skin, wearing an off the shoulder, long classy, black dress, a shawl hanging over her arms and her hair was a mousy brown. She never said her name, but when she turned around to look at me, I didn’t recognise her, but my soul absolutely did. In my head in that moment, in my manly voice I heard “Anna” and I was like “OHHHHH” it all adds up!

So that’s why I don’t know if my kids name was Sonny, or Sunny, because it could’ve been a play on words Sunny Ray, like sun-ray.

Anywho, so we left the house and then the meditation skipped some time since the meditation person told me to stand and let time go past me, which it did, the living room moved around a few times, things got added, things were taken away.

And then time stopped, I saw myself in third person sat down on the couch in front of the TV, I don’t even know if I was watching it, but then third person another time, I saw a shadow of a woman fall to ground.

Consciously I was so confused about what just happened, I didn’t understand what that was supposed to be showing me, but my heart began to race, my breathing picked up and I was lowkey freaking out. And I had no idea why.

Then it cut again, now I’m at a funeral, standing on the podium and talking. I still looked quite youthful, but my hair was turning grey from what I assume to be stress. Then it was like a download of information and I realised that my wife, Anna was murdered.

The funeral was not very long for what I saw, the two boys, I’m assuming ages 17-18 and 15-16 were sat on one side, meanwhile the young girl around age 9-10 was sat on my side. To me this symbolised the disconnect from me and my two son’s versus the closeness of me and my daughter. I also now looking back on it think it may have meant that the boys were on Anna’s families side, while my daughter was on mine, since there was an older woman who I assume to be my mother sat next to her.

My daughter gave me an encouraging smile as I spoke, I have no recollection of what I said, but she seemed proud of me. The boys however did not, they struggle to face me.

The last part of the meditation ended by me sat on the couch, slowly watching time pass me by, more and more alcohol bottles scattered the room as I just lay there. I became an alcoholic father, and it drove me to my death.

I got to see my wife for one last time as everything went white and my existence was no more. She stood in front of me, in that off the shoulder dress, her hair up in a pretty hairstyle. She had a mole on the back of her right shoulder and I placed a kiss to it, then I had to go.

I woke up and sobbed dude, four hours of consistent crying. And then I also realised that I have a mole on the back of my right shoulder lmao.

The reason I bring up this story is because I grew up with an alcoholic parent in this life, and there was a lot of trauma from that which I couldn’t quite begin to understand or rationalise.

This experience helped me heal from that, I learnt that I subjected my kids to watching their father deteriorate from the alcohol that he consumed. And now in this life I experienced what I did to them.

Now listen, I have 8th house Uranus in Pisces 💀, I’ve been through a bunch of stuff that I struggle to even think about at times, however now that I know about that life, and how it links to what I experienced in my early ears of this lifetime, I can say that I don’t question “why me” anymore, I don’t ask why it had to happen, because I now know that my soul needed to throw us deep into a karmic lesson. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, I’m not saying don’t allow yourself to feel something over situations that happen to you, however what I am saying is that we cannot control what others do to us, and we cannot go back to change what they did, so what can we learn from that unfortunate situation?

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idiotwithanipad · 1 month ago

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Amy Bone's Diary

(During my Era Swap Au where my OC Amy is a blood relative of Humphrey and Sophie)

(TW: graphic illustration of a headles body, descriptions of a public beheading)

May 9th 1570

Tomorrow is my fourteenth birthday. Mama and Papa wrote to some of their friends, they're coming for dinner. Mama's friends speak only French, I'll have to brush up - there's always something I mispronounce or stumble on, Mama doesn't like it when I do that. She's always so strict with me. I think after Nursemaid Marguerite died she just lost her happy side. I was only little when Marguerite died, but I remember her. She was always sneaking me an extra apple if I sat up straight and did all of my classes without fidgeting. I miss her.

Sometimes Papa takes me for walks on the grounds and I teach him words he struggles with. He's getting better, but some words are off. Papa is more fun than Mama, we were at the lake with Grandpapa one day and I splashed Papa with water. He splashed me back and we laughed and got covered in Duckweed. Mama shouted at me to go home and wash myself clean. Papa let's me have more fun than Mama, I don't know why.

Mama doesn't like it when I speak English to anyone aside from Papa, Trudy and Grandpapa. She hopes that one day I could marry a noble French man and move there. I've never been to France, but Mama says it's a beautiful place, especially in the countryside where she was born. But then I wouldn't see Mama or Papa again. I'd miss them. Papa always looks really sad when he has to talk about my getting married, Mama says it's my duty but I think it bothers her too. Grandpapa says I should've been married already, but he's old fashioned so he would say that. He told Mama and Papa that he'd take me into the town tomorrow while they wait for everyone to arrive, he says that there's a special event taking place in the town square. I wonder what it will be?

May 10th 1570

I didn't like town. Not what we saw. Mama and Papa don't know. I couldn't have any food, I feel sick. My eyes hurt, I can't talk. My hands are shaking. I can't get what I saw out of my head. There was a criminal, kneeling in front of a block, blindfolded, rope in his mouth to muffle his cries. An executioner struck his head off with a broad sword. There was blood and bone and pinkish muscle. Some of it even looked grey and purple. The blood came from this sliced neck like someone had just kicked a pot of water to the ground. Grandpapa made me watch It all, even after the man's body fell forward and turned white and the blood stopped flowing. A rat came along into the blood and took little nibbles from the man's severed neck, the muscle twitched and squirmed as the rodent's teeth chewed the horrible wound. It was like he was still alive but unable to move. It was horrible.

So much blood. Everyone was so loud. Blood got on my face, in my mouth, in my eyes, on my dress. Grandpapa made me wash the blood off in a pond outside of town. He told me I'd be in trouble if I told Mama and Papa what happened. He said it will do me good at my age to see what I saw, he said it's a warning to stay in my place or I'd end up like those criminals. I can't remember the last time I hugged Papa so tight. Mama tried to pull me from him because the guests were watching but I slapped her hand away. I don't want Mama. Mama doesn't care, all she wants is for me to be just like her; boring and grumpy.

Mama got angry with me and sent me to my room without dinner. I don't care. I'm not hungry anyway. If I have to see that horrible sight again I don't want food anymore. It has to be passed midnight by now, the house is too quiet. Everyone must be asleep. But I'm not. I can't sleep, I can't even close my eyes without seeing that sight again. Papa is probably sleeping by now, but I want to see him. His end is the West Wing, mine and Mama's is the East Wing, she'd hear me if I left my room. Papa helps things get better, I need Papa

#bbc ghosts #original character #amy #amy bone #humphrey bone #sophie bone #lord bone #era swap au #au

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daisiesinchampagne · 22 days ago

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Bargain

“Go now, be useful for once,” Mother said before shutting the door behind me, leaving no time to say my goodbyes.

I didn’t blame her—she did what needed to be done. Our family was abundant: me, my seven siblings, Mother and Father, and our remaining grandparents, all cramped within the confines of our modest home. Our so-called estate wasn’t much to speak of—a few sheep, a handful of goats, and two geese that were nearing their imminent death due to a hole in the shed, barely standing against the cruel winter winds.

The countess didn’t pay much for me, but it was just enough to get the family through the winter. I was to stay at the estate and serve her until I reach the age of twenty, but deep in my heart, I knew that I would never return home. I didn’t mind the arrangement, I was somewhat happy to not be a burden any longer. Mother tried time and time again for a son—a strong pair of hands to share the weight of the farm—each time she was met with another daughter. Among ourselves, we’d joke that she will keep going until the animal barn is occupied. Mother’s womb was cursed, but resilient as she was, she refused to give up.

I stood outside the door for a moment, shivering as the cold gnawed through my thin coat. I allowed myself one fleeting moment of sadness, one brief pang of longing for my sisters’ familiar chatter, only while I was still close to my home. Once I began my journey up to the mountains, there would be no room for such indulgence.

I took a step, then another, and then another, slowly starting to make my way through the village, eery silent on this cold winter day. My shoes were not nearly sturdy enough to withstand the slush and wetness of the melting snow, and so my feet felt cold and slippery inside of my boots. I told myself it was fine—the Countess’s castle was sure to be warm.

I knew the way well. As little girls, my sisters and I would venture towards the castle on playful escapades, pretending we were princesses invited to a grand ball. The construction loomed over the village, a monolith of cold grey stone crowned with towers so tall they would often pierce the clouds.

The Countess herself never descended to the village. Her affairs were conducted through written correspondence with the chief, and though no one had ever seen her, she was regarded with a mixture of reverence and gratitude. Food, money, and work trickled down from her estate, and as long as those needs were met, her anonymity was unquestioned.

At last, my long journey came to an end as I stood before the grand entrance of the castle. I reached for the heavy iron knocker and let it fall. The door creaked open almost instantly, as if the mistress herself had been standing just behind it, awaiting my arrival.

“Welcome, girl.”

Before me stood an impossibly tall woman, her presence commanding and severe. I had to crane my neck just to meet her piercing gaze.

“My lady,” I stammered, dropping into the deepest curtsy my frozen knees would allow. Mother had insisted I show gratitude, no matter how much my pride might protest.

“Come in, now,” she hurried me inside, no doubt after seeing my red cheeks and blue hands, bitten by the frost.

The castle’s interior was nothing short of magnificent. Ornate rugs cushioned every step, golden trim gleamed on every surface, and a grand piano stood in the corner of the vast entry hall.

“Let me help you with your coat,” the Countess said, a faint smile curling her lips as she tugged the coat from my shoulders and let it fall carelessly to the floor. “Shall I toss it? You’ll be given new clothes, of course.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

I didn’t care. Had she told me to strip naked and burn every scrap I owned, I would’ve gladly complied.

“Now,” the Countess continued, her tone clipped but not unkind, “your room is prepared, with your uniform and other necessities waiting inside.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

A question lingered on my tongue, and I couldn’t go any further without my curiosity being unfulfilled. “Will I be sharing my room with the other girls? When will I meet the rest of the help?”

The Countess paused mid-step and turned her head slightly toward me, her voice soft but final. “There are no other girls.”

I dared not ask more.

She led me down a series of silent corridors, the only sound our footsteps against the polished stone floor. The air felt heavy, as though the walls themselves were listening. The Countess moved with fluid grace, her steps purposeful, until at last, we stopped before a wooden door tucked away in a secluded wing.

“This will be your room,” she said simply, opening the door and stepping aside to let me enter.

The chamber was modest but clean—a narrow bed, a small writing desk, and a wardrobe stood against the stone walls. On the bed lay a neatly folded uniform.

“Rest. I will call for you when I require your presence.”

With that, the Countess turned on her heel and shut the door behind her, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing faintly in the still air.

I was left alone.

***

The next day I waited and waited, but the servant bell never rang. Mother had always told me that the help should neither be seen nor heard, so I remained hidden in my room until I the relentless growling in my stomach became unbearable. It was when the night befell that I decided to exit my room and make my way downstair to fetch a bite to eat. Thankfully, my mistress had walked me through the kitchen the day before, sparing me the need to trouble her.

The kitchen was located in the basement, to the left of an expansive wine cellar. On the far side stood a large entrance framed by double doors. The air grew colder as I descended, and shadows danced along the stone walls, cast by flickering sconces.

In the kitchen, I rummaged through the pantry and cabinets, but to my dismay, I could not find so much as a loaf of bread. It struck me as odd—peculiar, even—considering the Countess's tall and robust figure.

Resigned to another night of hunger, I turned to leave, the cold flagstones chilling my bare feet. But just as I reached the doorway, I froze. The faint sound of shuffled footsteps echoed from beyond the double doors, followed by the creak of one slowly swinging open.

A rancid stench hit my nostrils, making my stomach lurch violently. I kneeled above a cauldron, gagging and retching, but with nothing in my stomach, I could only produce bile, burning my throat and mouth as it went up and out.

Then I saw it.

A figure stood in the entrance of the kitchen, looking not at me but past me, its eyes milky and unseeing. Its skin, sickly pale and stretched taut over sharp bones, looked as though it might tear with even the faintest movement. It swayed slightly, head twitching with an unnatural rhythm. Its skeletal frame was draped in a garment I recognized instantly—a black dress, identical to the one I wore.

I couldn’t scream—the bile in my mouth sealed it shut. With every ounce of strength I had left, I scrambled upright, my feet slipping briefly on the slick floor. I bolted for the stairs, shoving past the creature with my elbow as I fled, its frail frame giving way beneath my desperate push.

I fled upstairs, breathless and desperate to escape the oppressive confines of the castle. The grand front door loomed before me, heavy and unyielding, refusing to budge no matter how I tugged and clawed at its gilded handle. Behind me, a faint rustle stirred the silence, and I turned sharply—there she was.

The Countess was poised elegantly, half-lying upon a couch, a glass of deep red wine balanced delicately in her pale hand. Her presence, though unexpected at this late hour, brought me relief. Whatever horror lurked in the shadows of the basement seemed distant in her commanding presence.

"There you are," she said, her lips curling into a serene smile. "What has frightened you so, my dear?"

I tried to respond, but my voice faltered, choked by the sobs racking my chest and the tears streaking my cheeks.

“You look terrified, girl,” She said, putting her glass aside. “Come on, sit with me.”

I sat down beside her, struggling to contain my shaky hands.

“I saw…” I began, my voice quivering as I struggled to produce a sentence. “I saw someone in the kitchen.”

The Countess's smile did not waver, her emerald eyes studying me with detached amusement. "Oh? Did you now?”

"It—it looked human," I stammered, my voice cracking under the weight of my fear. My arms wrapped around my torso as though trying to physically restrain the terror bubbling within me.

"Hush now, child," she cooed, reaching out to stroke my hair with a gloved hand. "There are no monsters in this castle. Perhaps some warm chocolate would soothe your nerves. Would you like that?”

“If you’d be so kind,” I managed. She was not surprised in the slightest, and I began to think that perhaps it was my exhausted and hungry body was the one playing tricks of me.

She reached for a small bell and gave it a faint ring. The chime echoed through the halls, fading into an uneasy silence. Time stretched unbearably, the stillness gnawing at my frayed nerves.

After a glance at the clock, the Countess sighed lightly. "You'll have to forgive my maid. She's unwell."

I smiled. It wasn’t a servant’s place to judge the quality of the help.

At last, footsteps echoed from below—slow, uneven. From the shadows of the basement stairs emerged a frail figure, clutching a tarnished silver tray with an unsteady grip. The dim light revealed her hollow eyes, sallow skin stretched tight over sharp bones, and the unnerving twitch of her head with every step.

I sprung up, my body trembling as it slowly approached us. The Countess’s plump hand tugged on mine, forcing me back down on the couch. She didn’t let go, her fingers tightening with surprising strength.

"There," she said with an air of finality as the creature set the tray before me. "Your chocolate.”

The cup was chipped and stained, its contents a vile concoction of yellowed milk and clumped cocoa powder. A foul smell wafted up, coiling into my nostrils and threatening to turn my stomach.

“Go on,” the Countess urged, nodding at the cup, her smile sharpening at the edges.

I looked at the monster, flailing and struggling to maintain its balance. My body once again betrayed me, my hand shaking so violently the drink almost spilling on my dress.

With a deep breath, I forced myself to take a sip. The sour tang hit my tongue, mingling with the bile already souring the insides of my mouth. I gagged, barely managing to swallow.

"Not to your liking?" she asked, her eyes alight with amusement, like a child observing a caged animal.

She plucked the cup from my shaking hands and handed it back to the creature, who accepted it with jittery fingers.

"Well," the Countess said lightly, her voice carrying a chill that cut through the suffocating warmth of the room. "You've had your treat. Now, it's my turn."

Without hesitation, she tightened her grip on my hand and yanked me closer. Before I could scream, her teeth sank into my neck. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, and I cried out, my voice breaking into gasps and sobs. My limbs felt impossibly heavy, and my eyes could no longer see, as my body slumped into the Countess's arms as she finally pulled away.

The world swam in and out of focus. Distant voices murmured, but their words were hazy and disjointed.

"If she dies, you may have the scraps," the Countess's voice floated through the fog.

"If she survives... well, you might just have yourself a little friend."

I took a painful breath.

#short story #essay writing #booklr #horror #inspired by re village #horror story #short and sweet

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mikejoja · 3 days ago

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Entry No. 4 by Mika Joja

I’ve always hated getting my hair cut. Ever since I was a little boy, I’d struggle and bitch at my aunt who, each time, would delicately clip every curl as she attempted to keep her scissors from nicking my swinging neck. When I was still going to school out of a local Baptist church, my teachers would send home letters expressing their concern with my long, curly hair. Once my curls traveled even slightly below my ears, my mother could expect me to return home with an envelope addressed to her within the week. It always puzzled me how I was meant to look up to men like Samson. In Sunday school, we were taught that he stored all of his power and might in his hair, and when it was cut off by Delilah, he lost it all. Cutting my hair just made me feel like Samson, I reckon.

Even to this day, when I look in the mirror post-cut, I can see a little bit too much of the men who came before me. I have my fathers ears, who had his fathers ears, who had his fathers ears. It’s a tragic lineage of big-eared, big-egoed men. My hair will usually do the job of concealing this insecurity, but with that gone, my ears are visible in their totality. It makes me sick. I have had friends, and men, throughout the years tell me that they had never picked out my ears as being funny-looking, but I have never believed them.

In different history classes throughout my schooling, teachers have shown us pictures of various Confederate generals from the United States Civil War. Sometimes, when I would look too close, I would notice the ears. I would find myself wondering if I was a descendant of whatever lop-eared rebel I was being shown, but I never let myself linger on that thought for too long. My grandfather had told me once of the ‘heroes’ in my ancestry that fought for the South, but I never cared to learn who those men were. I carry enough shame from the sins of my father; I can’t bring myself to think back any further than that.

The bell of the barber shop door snapped me back into reality. Instead of concerning myself with my ears, I then had entertainment: a woman and her son. The woman was hefty, but tall. She was sporting skinny jeans that had bundled all of her excess leg fat to her backside and a black spaghetti-strap with an incredibly visible bright pink bra underneath. She couldn’t have been more than 35. Her son looked to be about thirteen. He was wearing what I would expect any generic, prepubescent boy to wear: joggers and a sweatshirt. However, his pants and top were the exact same shade of dark grey. I, personally, find it unfavorable to wear the same color top and bottoms. It’s almost as if he were trying to resemble the sweatsuits of star-athletes and models, but his Faded Glory get-up was not quite doing the trick.

What a little shit, I thought as he sassed his mother.

“I don’t want to get my haircut! Mama, please don’t make me.” I could sympathize with his pain, but he looked far too old to be causing a scene like this in public. By the age of seven or eight I had quit fighting the monthly haircuts on my grandparents kitchen counter.

“It looks good when you let her cut it, baby,” the mother croaked. Her voice was phlegmy at first, like she had just either drank a glass of milk or smoked a cigarette, but she was able to stabilize it somewhat by the end of her sentence. The two family members argued quietly, as I tried to focus on what exactly I was going to tell my barber to ensure that the trim would not result in a breakdown.

I didn’t see, or hear, what happened beforehand, but I witnessed the boy buck up to his mother, back down and then hastily make his way through the back of the shop to the restroom. The woman didn’t chase after him. All the barbers looked to her, concerningly.

“I’m all good,” she laughed in her smoggy Southern drawl, “Ya know what they say, something about an apple.” I tried not to make eye contact with her as she made her exit. I followed soon after.

On my way out, as the boy was hesitantly climbing into the chair behind me, I saw her staring blankly out at the thoroughfare and then farmland that lay in front of that barber shop/ gas station. She was lightly puffing on her cigarette. I was able to identify the brand immediately. I can recognize the smell of a Pall Mall from a mile away, the same kind my Daddy smoked while I was growing up. I didn’t end up getting my hair cut.

#memoir #book quotes #me #mine #writing #writers on tumblr #rural america #grunge

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adowryofblood · 2 years ago

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WORDS TO A LOVER

Understand me: I am a mediocre being, Neither good nor very bad, quiet, a bit sullen. I hate heavy perfumes and loud voices, And grey is more dear to me than scarlet or ochre. I love sunset, the day dying bit by bit, The fire, the monastic intimacy of a room Where the lamps with veiled amber transparence Redden the old bronze and blue the stoneware. My eyes on the carpet, more polished than sand, I idly recreate the golden river-banks Where the clarity of beautiful yesterdays still linger... And yet I am so much to blame. See: I am at the age where a woman abandons herself To a man whom her weakness searched out but whom she dreads, And I have never given myself like that Because you appeared from around the corner. The hyacinth bleeds the hillsides red, You dreamt and love walked beside you... I am a woman, I have no right to your beauty. I have been condemned to masculine ugliness. And I would have the inexcusable audacity to desire Your gentle and sisterly love, The light step which does not crush the ferns And the soft voice that has just gone into the night. I have been forbidden your hair, your eyes, Because your hair is long and full of scent And because your eyes have strange desires Like rebellious waves. I have been told off with irritated gestures, Because my gaze searched for your tender response... Watching us pass, no one wanted to understand That I chose you simply. Consider the worthless law I break And judge my love, which knows no wrong, As candid, as necessary and as fatal As the desire that joins lover and mistress. No one read the light in my eyes On the road where my lover lead me, And they said: "Who is that cursed woman Who deafly courts the flames of hell?" Let us leave them to the cares of their impure morality, And let us dream that dawn is honey flaxen, That day comes unsoured and night without malice Like friends whose goodness reassures us... We will see the star-light on mountains... What does the judgment of men matter to us? And what must we fear, for we are Pure facing life and we love each other?...

Renée Vivien, The Muse Of The Violets (transl. Catharine Kroger)

#this might be my favorite renée vivien poem #art & lit #renée vivien #the muse of the violets #lit #poetry #quotes #queer #lesbian #lesbian poetry

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mothinked · 2 years ago

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continued from here with @torntruth

Not only did Ellie have a weathered and wearied appearance but she felt older, too. Like she’d aged five years in the span of just a few months. Her demeanor was reserved albeit not closed off; her body language remaining open despite the almost palpable tension between them. The woman who left that night wasn’t the same one that now sat in front of Dina, forearms resting on her thighs and green eyes never wavering from the other woman. That day she was sporting a flight jacket over a dark grey henley and loose-fitting jeans. No signature chucks, just a pair of worn leather boots coupled with a belt to complete the ensemble. Her hair had been kept short and was tied back. Even her bearing was different—no fidgeting or other anxious ticks presented and her words were more... measured. She chose them with care. “It’s over. I showed her the mercy she never showed Joel. And that was—”

Here, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She had to draw in a deep, calming breath before continuing, “—that was a choice I can live with. For the first time I can see clearly, see life for what it is, and now all I can do is move forward. So, I am.”

Her gaze lowered to stare down at her boots “Joel...” It wasn’t a struggle to speak his name anymore, not like it used to be. If anything, she was afraid he would be forgotten. He remained alive in memories and those were all she had left of him. That guitar sitting in her room at the farm was her choosing to move on. The final goodbye, a swan song that couldn’t be played as intended due in part to her fingers.

“... Joel did what he did because he loved me. I think he couldn’t stand to lose another daughter. I guess I accepted that too late.” And as a parent, Ellie understood him now better than she ever had. “I can’t let anger and grief be the only things I ever feel for the rest of my life.” For a long time, she was silent. Pensive. Finally, Ellie looked back up at Dina. There was a sense of poignancy with how she spoke. “And I’m sorry. For leaving, for not being the partner you needed and deserved. I was too caught up in how I was feeling to see that you were struggling just as much. And... I’m sorry for making it about me. I lost myself and I ended up losing everything else in the process.” There were many mistakes she had to live with but she wanted to try.

To do better, to be better. If Dina told her to fuck off or to give her space then she’d respect that. It was up to Ellie to put in the effort to make this right, to salvage what she could of the life she had foolishly walked away from. But was it too late?

#torntruth

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keely-cherish89 · 9 months ago

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Angel of Death meets the

Beast of Blood

Prologue

It was mid-afternoon when I arrived at my contacts home, Dukov’s Place. I’d visited him before after hearing he was the go-to person in the wastes for anyone who wanted information on a need-to-know bases. So, he told me to give him a few weeks to allow him some time to gather up everything that he could find and liaise it back to me. Which brought me to this point in time, as I stand by his request and in front of his door for a moment before I knocked on it.

I hope you’ve got it… because you ain’t getting any more time…, I pondered inwardly as I gazed at the big wooden door in front of me. I could feel myself getting excited and nervous at the same time as I took a deep breath in my lungs, because I would only settle down when the deed is done to be free from their clutches again. It’s now or never girl….

(Knock knock)

I waited for the man in question to open the door and allow me inside, I knew Dukov was a reliable source for information, but that’s not to say he didn’t come without his flaws of being in his company and not in a good way either. He has this annoying sort of Ora about him and the mannerisms of his dirty mind that came with his flirtatious nature, well…that’s if one can stomach it without wanting to slap the shit out of him anyway. But I suppose it must have always been his personality and if I was to describe him, he’s the definition of a dirty old man. He’s middle aged, a man of Russian heritage and descent who’s not taken care of himself by the chubbiness of his belly or his physique. He’s slightly bolding in his older years with dusting of grey hairs scattered across his head, like a less than average silver-fox who’s past his best years to be doing the things he does.

He craved young women’s attention or any woman’s attention for that matter, he even had two prostitutes living with him in exchange for sex. He had offered them protection, a roof over their heads and as much booze they could possibly handle. It’s a win all around, I supposed. Not that I would say the women were getting the best out of his deal, but it’s not my place to judge them for their affairs. But there must be something about him that makes them want to stay with him. Does he have a magic wand for a penis or something? Why am I even thinking about this! I internally shuddered after picturing the mental image of his slong wiggling about.

“Yeah, what the fuck!” He said rudely as he flung the door open, but then realised it was me as I lifted my hood up to glare at him. So, he followed it up with, “Hey sweet cheeks! Come inside….” Oh, now he’s all smiles and oozing that sleazy cheesyness that makes me want to be sick every time he opens his mouth. I think he’s just put me off men for life…, I grimaced inwardly. But I dropped the hood back over my head as I said, “Have you got what I came for!”

“Baby, when have I ever let you down!” He replied flirtatiously as I surveyed the house from my field of vision with a critical eye, for signs of other guests and ignoring his suttle hints of, “I so wanna fuck you right now.” His two scantily clad girls were there like always, but who I didn’t recognise until my eyes gazed at him anyway, was the tall black figure in the background and stood by the snooker table. And who the hell is he! I glared at the unknown mystery man for a second before turning my attention back to Dukov. I narrowed my eyes at him because he told me it would only be the two of us meeting at his place.

“You have company!” I growled at him as I took a menacing step towards him. “Yeah, yeah… he just turned up out of the blue! He’s only here for his boss!” Dukov explained quickly before I had the chance to grab him by the scruff of his shirt. Well, more like silky pyjamas he wore for his naughty nightwear on the daily that did nothing for his figure. It was a size too small for him to be wearing it comfortably and his gut made the buttons tug at the front of his shirt.

But I didn’t have time for this shit, and I don’t like been fucked over, so I shoved my way past him as I walked inside the house. I heard him mutter, “Oh, just come in then…,” and I spun on my heel to glare at him once more. “Ok ok woman, chill… let me just finish up here…,” he said nervously as he gestured to his mysterious friend. You will fucking say that in a minute arsehole! Yes, it was rude of me to not wait until he gestured me to come in, but he should learn some manners when answering the door to his guests.

So, I turned and made my way over to lean against the wall behind me as I watched from across the room to keep my eyes trained on both men. And whilst Dukov pissed off out of my face for a minute or two, I studied the mysterious figure in black as I casually gazed at him with minor indifference. He kinda looked like a ghoul to me but he had his face obscured by a hood over his head, so I couldn’t tell what his facial features looked like. But one of his arms were exposed by his black leather armor and showing off patches that were missing from his skin. I didn’t pay much attention to him, but I noted how his armour looked to be in near-perfect condition. And it fitted him well for a man of his size and fuck me, was he tall, taller than me at least, probably over seven feet if I was to hazard a guess.

Oh, I bet you have other big attributes too… eh big boy! I inwardly chuckled at my kinky thoughts. But I didn’t pay any attention to the conversation between the two because quite frankly, I really didn’t give a shit and it wasn’t my concern either. So, I drifted off into my own little world thinking about this and that, and the other. But mostly about my mission and Dukov best turn up good with his information, or the wasteland would have one less dirty-old-perv living in it. If he dares to fuck me over…. I’ll fucking paint this entire place with the bastards' blood… and make his fucking whores watch, as I did it!

I was distracted from my thoughts as Dukov came over saying, “So baby… when are you going to give old Dukov a ride on you?” With that sleazy cheesy grin on his face. I glanced at his friend who watched us both but turned his attention back to counting the items in his big-arse duffel bag he had laid on the table.

“In your fucking dreams, that’s when!” I snarled as I flicked my eyes back to him as he looked to have finished with his guest. “Ohh babes, you are always in my dreams!” He said flirtatiously again, then turned to shout over his two girls, “Cherry, Fantasia get your sweet asses here and bring some fucking booze!”

His two girls came swaying over with bottles of whiskey and vodka clutched in their hands as well as smiles on their faces. I internally rolled my eyes and lit up a smoke, desperately craving a nicotine rush only a cigarette can give. Dukov is known for his drunken-wild-parties and den of debauchery, he will allow other men and women to take part in sexual activities with his two prostitutes. Not that they seem bothered about it, but I guess it’s because they didn’t want to lose the roof over their pretty heads. And every time I visited him, every time, he’d try and get me to drink with him or other activities, but I always said no. Not because I didn’t drink, but because I didn’t trust him to allow myself to be put in such a vulnerable position. Plus, the fact that I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot fucking barge pole anyway, especially knowing he would give me the chance…. Yeah…no thanks!

Cherry the red-headed girl tries handing me a bottle of whiskey as she runs her fingers over the skin of my arm, as though she’s suddenly turned lesbian from the looks on her face but I decline it. And of course, Dukov spots me not taking the whiskey out of her hand as he says, “Babe… come on now, have a drink with us!” He smirks as he grabs the arse of his other companion, Fantasia.

But Cherry’s still clinging on to me like I was the next best thing since females came into this world. So, I decided to have a little fun with her to get him going because he’s an arse that wants slapping on the face. I returned the grin as I grabbed Cherry’s face and pulled her into a deep snog. I wasn’t lesbian per-say or anything like that, but I knew it would get Dukov’s heart racing, and because he thinks he can get any girl he wants in bed with him. And either man nor ghoul didn’t want to miss the girl-on-girl action with their attention focused on us kissing. But the mysterious friend averted his eyes away from us first, and as for Dukov himself, his jaw was sitting on the floor as if he was in shock and excited at the same time. Huh! He fell for it hook-line-and-sinker! The stupid idiot!

I gently tugged Cherry’s face away from the kiss as I noted her look of shock too, as I grinned at him with my teeth bared. He then freed himself from Fantasia to saunter his way over to me and thinking, I was inviting him to come and play with us. Yeah, gang-bang springs to mind! The dirty old fucker! I thought as he tried running his fingers up my chest like I was a free-for-all groping cushion for his amusement. But his face soon changed as at lightning speed I snatched his offending hand and squeezed, until I heard the noise of popping bones.

I shoved him away from me saying, “Do not touch me!” And the look on his face was priceless as I glared at him, but inside I was pissing myself laughing from his gullible mind. “Ok ok… chill. I’ll get it for you.” He replied with his hands up as a sign of peace and turned to walk off.

I watched him as he did so along with his two ladies who seemingly had no intentions whatsoever of sticking around with me, I may be beautiful but I’m also unpredictable to others. So, I guessed it wasn’t surprising to me when the two women turned tail and ran away. I then turned my attention back to Dukov’s mysterious guest who had shouldered his duffel bag, which he had started walking towards the entrance but not before offering me another glance. Keep walking big boy, I don’t have time to play with you right now! I thought as I narrowed my eyes at him, not that he could actually see them with the hood over my face, but nonetheless he was an unknown entity in my prospective. So, I watched him leave out the front door as I finished my cigarette.

Dukov returned a moment or two later with a slip of paper in his hand and the fucking cheesy smile on his face, as if he was Gods gift to every woman he knows or sees. He hands me the paper and I studied it for a moment before I said, “So is this the place!” “Yes, he’s been holding up there for near on two weeks.” Dukov replied giving me a cheeky smile.

“But how can you be sure! What if he already left this place and fucked off somewhere else!” I said with irritation to my voice as I felt like I was on borrowed time. “Trust me sweet cheeks, he’s still there! I have a friend watching over him right now.” He replies still grinning like he’s the cat that caught the cream and claps his hand on my shoulder.

I looked down at him with uncertainty before I said, “Fine, but know this! You disappoint me then I’ll be coming back for you!” I informed with a deadly smile as if to say, “Don’t fuck with me! “Baby, you Wound-me… when have I ever disappointed you!” He replied with his flirtatiousness again and offers me a bottle of vodka. He knows I don’t make idle threats but deadly promises to anyone who crosses me in whatever way they did.

“Fine, I’ll drink to that!” I said taking the bottle out of his hand to unscrew the cap and took a big swig. The liquor was strong, and I felt the burn as it slid down my throat giving me the feeling of warmth. Vodka was my tipple of choice; I wasn’t keen on the pre-war whiskey or wine for that matter. But I do enjoy a good drink of vodka in my life anyway, so I was willing to take it from him. “Wow baby, now where talking!” He said uncapping his whiskey bottle and lifted it up to clink in a job-well done manner, as if the cheers were for doing his part.

#Charon fo3

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aro-comics · 3 years ago

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Fashion

Fashion, 1/1 - I’M NOT DRESSING UP FOR ANY MAN UNLESS THAT MAN IS A POTENTIAL EMPLOYER AT A NETWORKING EVENT 😤😤

Ok but in all seriousness, like I mentioned in the disclaimer, this post was originally meant to be a lighthearted joke about this idea all too many of us (especially people who were perceived as girls growing up) have been told time and time again – that you’ll grow up and “fall in loooooooove” and then suddenly you’ll be transformed into the heteronormative ideal of a woman who’s hyperfeminine 🙄 … Yeah, I can’t stand it either, it genuinely makes me cringe to even type this 😫

But as I kept working on this, I realized that … this whole situation goes deeper than just aromanticism and proving your parents/guardians wrong about how you would be when you grew up. This entire joke, and my experiences, are tied with so many other things. There are so many factors to consider, like sexism, classism, environmental impacts, ableism, racism (just to name a FEW). And as usual, if I let myself start rambling this description is going to be waaay too long, even by my standards.

So I’ll summarize my general thoughts in the comments, but if you’re interested in this subject I’ve actually written (… and don’t judge me, PLEASE 😳) a 12 page informal essay covering everything from social factors to my personal speculations on where Aro fashion might go, which you can find a link to on my carrd or on my Tumblr (which will also have some extra art, btw 👀)!

NOTE FROM ARTIST: Since this is the tumblr, I will be posting the essay in parts here shortly!! There have been a few logistics issues (since the essay is VERY long) but I promise I will try to get all the parts up and linked to each other shortly. Sorry for all the chaos ^^” If you’d like to see the whole thing all at once, though, you can always read it in the original google doc!

(And as one last note: due to some hand problems – though I’m getting better now thankfully – I’ll be responding either on my computer or with voice to speech! If my responses read differently that’s why 😅)

[Image Description:

Slide 1: “When I was a kid, I hated the idea of fashion, makeup, and dressing up.”

Young Celia grimaces “ewww no!” as she tries to push away a lilac coloured dress being offered to her by an adult off screen, who asks her “Can you try it on please?”

Slide 2: “And all the adults would tell me –”

Shot switches to Celia’s back as she looks at two women in her family. The younger/taller woman who holds the dress says, “oh you’ll dress up one day, when you fall in ~looooove~”. Celia is unimpressed, and annoyed, very firmly stating “Never!!”

Slide 3: A flash forward through Celia’s life growing up, where she does not care much about looks/fashion. The panel is split into 3.

The top third is labeled age 7. She’s running into the forest, saying “Eh, it’s appropriate –” wearing a plain orange t-shirt layered over a light grey long sleeved shirt. Her hair is wild and unkempt and a written note says “Running around like a little gremlin”.

The middle third is labeled age 11. Celia is shown hiding in the shadows in the corner of her school building on the playground. She says: “Well, it’s BETTER if I look plain. It’s easier to blend in!” A piece of context is given to the side: I was an avid manhunt player and my strategy was hiding until late in the game.

The bottom third is labeled age 15. She sits hunched over at a desk with short, messy hair and bags under her eyes. It’s late and she’s still working on some assignment.

“Dressing up? That’s … a luxury that nobody has time for,” she says. A note to the side says: Unhealthy work habits from school.

Slide 4: “And I hate to admit it but … they were right about wanting to dress up eventually” Celia ponders with a slight bit of embarrassment now, at her current age. Her outfit is an orange tank top paried with matching orange barrettes.

Slide 5: Note at top of slide: “At a special networking event”. Celia stands bewildered as she stares into the room of the networking event. A projector slide shows the event is called “Climate action lab”. In the distance, two well dressed young professionals talk.

Slide 6: Celia shown from the front now. She is wearing a very plain/somewhat weirdly cut long sleeved plain shirt with old black jeans (in essence. Not something you would wear to a business casual event). She looks a bit uncomfortable, and says “Oh shit, I really gotta up my fashion game …”

In the background two other people (who are also, appropriately dressed for the event) talk. The shorter man says “actually, I’m an environmental scientist to a tall girl who responds “that’s cool!”

Slide 7:

A montage. At the top left, Celia is shown immediately after the event on her phone, making a note to herself to research business wear when she gets home. Then, in the center right, she is seen typing furiously as she researches on pinterest with a notebook open to her side. At the bottom left, she has already gotten a haircut, has some new hair clips and her now ubiquitous turtleneck top with a green gemstone ring strung on a necklace (which is split in orange and white). She is holding up a spring green puff sleeved blouse with white collar/sleeve details.

The sentence “I WANT TO BE A PROFESSIONAL” is written between all of these scenes.

Slide 8: Celia drawn shrugging nonchalantly now. “It really would have been a lot easier if my parents just told me as a kid “it’ll help you get a job you like”]

#RegularComic #Fashion #FashionComic

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reimagine7 · 3 years ago

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Hot Lifeguard (Emily Sonnett x reader)

My first story. Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. Opened for suggestions.

It was just another day at work. Days like this were one of my favorites. Just a few people at the beach and less people in the water, that is almost the perfect scenario for a lifeguard. Because normally that means no incidents. My shift was almost over, just one more hour and I could go home to prepare for dinner tonight with my girlfriend.

Right now I am sitting at the cabbing along with Josh, my partner for the day.

“No fucking way” I heard Josh yell while loking at something through the glass.

“What? What did you see?” I asked “You’re not going to believe who just arrived at the beach” “Well, if you give me the binoculars I could see by myself.” “There is no need to. Look at the group over there.” He said pointing to a place in the sand “Okay, I’m looking but I’m not getting it.”

Just as I said that I saw a blond girl running a few meters at the sand and trying to do a cartwheel on the sand and failing miserably, ending with her butt at the sand. Yep, now I know of who Josh is talking about.

“Girl, that is the US women’s soccer team, seems like the whole team is in here.” He was really excited “Josh, clean it right here…” (I rubbed my hand on my chin and he copied me) “Why?” He asked, after seeing nothing on her hand “You’re drooling.” “Oh, fuck up.” She pushes me and keeps looking at the team, it wasn’t the whole team but is probably half of the girls.

“Okay, I’m gonna say hi. Do you wanna come?” Josh asked me “You can go, someone has to stay here and actually do the work.” Josh rolled his eyes but got the walktalk. “Fine, I would tell them you say hi, I’m bringing the walktalk” “Go there looser.”

I was just watching a few surfers at the beach, when I looked to my left and saw Josh coming back with the group of girls following him. He gave me a sign for me to come down.

“So Y/n these are the players from USWNT and girls this is Y/n.” “Hi girls, I actually know you all, I’m a big fan, you’re all badasses.” “Thank you. We heard that so was you.” Ashlyn said and Alex followed. “Josh here went to say hi and told us that his coworker was a woman and a badass so we needed to come check out.” “Well, it’s my pleasure to meet you.”

“For how long have you been working here?” Ali asked. “In this part of the beach not much, but as a lifeguard, 10 years.” The girls were shocked “Oh, 10 years? Sorry to ask but how old are you?” “25” “You can be a lifeguard while you’re 15?” “Yes. I was a good swimmer and at a young age I started to learn surfing, I always loved the water. So one day I got the opportunity to be a lifeguard at a waterpark near home, since then I never stopped. And soon as I had enough experience to be a lifeguard at the beach I moved and here I am.” Tobin spoke this time. “So do you also surf?” Before I could answer, Josh interrupted us “Oh yeah, this is almost like an unofficial rule to be a lifeguard, and Y/n is like the best here. Sorry girls, but I’ll go upstairs and check the beach” “Bye Josh, it was a pleasure to meet you.” The girls said and then looked back at me.

“I’m probably not that good, but yes I can surf.” “We would love to see that, it’s a shame you’re at work.” Tobin answered. “Isn’t your shift ending?” Emily spoke this time, I looked at her and the sun was hitting her face, making her blue eyes shine, she is so beautiful. “Yeah, actually. I have probably just one more hour left.”

“So what about you meeting us after it and we can see how good you actually are?” Ashlyn asked me with a smirk. “That is a challenge Ashlyn?” “You can bet on it.” Ali smacks Ashlyn in the back of her head. “Ashlyn, you can’t go out challenging people.” “Just a moment girls.”

I interrupted whoever was saying, as soon as I spotted something on the ocean. I climbed the ladder from the cabin and called for Josh. “Josh!” “Yeah boss!” “Look at the water, 10 o’clock. What do you see?” “There is noth… shit looks like two people. Maybe kids. Go!” I jump in the sand and get the surfboard. “Sorry girls, and it’s a bet Ash.” I ran as fast as I could toward the people, wishing this day could end as good as it started.

As I was getting closer to them I noticed that one of them was a little girl, around 5 years old and the other was a boy around 12 years old. I was going as fast as I could but it looked like it wasn't enough. As I was about to get to them, the boy pushed the girl up, and sank. Fuck!

“Help! Lucas!” I got the girl, put her over the board and tried to find the boy but he didn’t get back up. What should I do? I looked up and saw the girl was using diving glasses. “Can you lend me this? Okay, look, you see these ropes? Hold them as strong as you can and don’t let them go. I’ll get Lucas.”

I know it look like a stupid ideia, let the girl up there by herself, but if I wait for Josh to get here the boy could be dead. So I got in the water and dived trying to find the boy. I surf back up, check with the little girl, get some breath and dive back. I was almost giving up when I felt something on my left leg and when I looked at it was him. So I get his hand and rise back. “Lucas!!” I got back on the board, laid him down and asked for the girl to sit in front of me holding the ropes. He’s unconscious, I need to get to the beach as fast as possible.

I got to the beach and Josh was already there with the equipment and said he had already called an ambulance. I barely got that, the boy was my first priority, I looked up and saw the national team girls were close. “Hey little girl, you see these women over there?” She nodded. “Stay with them, for me to take care of Lucas okay?” She didn’t want to let go of him, must be her brother. Probably noticing my expression, Emily came over and got the girl, she started to scream. But my focus was somewhere else now. The boy wasn’t breathing, so I started the compression. “Come on, come on. Spit the water. Come on Lucas, you can do it.” I must be doing it for like 1 minute, but it felt like an hour, when the boy spit the water. “Good boy. Calm down, you’re safe now.” I put him on oxigen, and the ambulance arrived just in time as he regained consciousness. “Hey boy, what’s your name?” The paramedic asked. “Lucas.” “Hi, Lucas. My name is Daniel and I’m a paramedic and I’m going to help you okay? How old are you?” “12. Where is my sister?” “Hey Lucas, it’s okay, she is over there, stay calm okay.”

I looked back at the girl and went to calm her down. “Hey little girl, how are you?” She came running for my arms. “Lucas?” She asked while crying in my arms. “He is better now, you see? He is talking with the doctors now. Where are your parents sweety?” “Don’t know.” And as it was agreed the mother shows up. “Lucas? Lucy?” “Mom!” The little girl ran to the women's arms. “Where is Lucas?” “Hi Mrs, my name is Y/N. Lucas is over there being taken care of. Do you know what happened?” “No, I told them that I was going to get some water and when I came back they weren’t there so I started to freak out and I saw the comotion here.” They start to take the boy to the ambulance. “Okay, Mrs…” “Grey” “Mrs. Grey, they are taking Lucas to the ambulance right now, they will check on him, he drowned trying to save his sister, I’m going to explain everything to you until we get to the ambulance, can you just pack your stuff? Are you alone here?” “Yes, my husband is at work. And I already packed everything, it is in here.” “Good, come on. And I would like Lucy to have a check up as well, she hasn’t drowned but she could have drunk some water. We don’t want to take risks right?” With that I went up to the ambulance with the mom and then let the paramedics do their job. I hope the kid stays good.

I went back to the post and Josh was there. “What a way to end the shift right?” “Thank god, I found the boy under water. Otherwise it would ruin the day.” “Yeah, and the super boss shows up again to save the day.” “Stop.” “Fine, now get out of here. There are some people waiting for you. Go have some fun.” I had completely forgotten about them, time to go say hi, again.

Emily pov

We were still excited about what just happened at the beach.

“She is totally a badass, she was just talking with us and still caught the kids drowning in the water.” Tobin said. “When she left the girl alone at the board I was like ‘what is she doing?’ and then she just got the boy under water, that was amazing.” Christen said “That’s why she is the boss.” Ali complement.

“Okay, but let’s not forget how hot she is. When she ran toward the water, it was just like we were in Baywatch, and her body. God!” “Kelley!!” “What Linds, is not like you don’t agree with me you were drooling watching her doing her job.” Kelley fought back. “I was not…” Lindsey said pouting, Megan put a hand on her shoulder and said. “Sorry Linds but you totally were. But that’s fine, she is hot as fuck and I think that half of the girls here were drooling, even the “straight” ones”. She intensifies the quotation marks.

Then Christen intervened. “She also looks like a good person, she looks smart, determined and kind. You saw her with the little girl?” “Hey, I don’t have a competition do I?” Tobin protested. “Of course not babe, but she may be good for some other girls here. And watch out cause she is coming here.”

I looked behind me and Y/N was coming over, she had changed off her uniform and was now just in her swimming suit, a backpack and a surfboard. She was more beautiful, if that was even possible and hotter.

“Hey girls, my shift is just over. So I remembered that one of you challenged me on surfing. So I want to know if she is still up to it?” Ash stood up “Oh yeah, game on bitch. Tobs, Kell are you coming?” “Of course, let’s go.” Both of them replied.

Some girls went along with them for the water, others decided to take a walk on the sand and others were just going to lay and get a tan. Before Y/N followed the girls to the water she came near me. “So, beautiful, can I put my stuff here near you?” “I think so.” “Good, you’re not coming?” “Not today.” “Okay, be right back.” She winked at me and left toward the ocean.

I sat back in the sand and just watched her get some waves with the girls, she was stunning. Of course she was winning the challenge, but who cares, everyone was just amazed by her.

I was contemplating her beauty when Moe sat beside me and asked. “So, are you gonna spill the beans?” “There is nothing to spill. Don’t know what you are talking about?” “You sure do. If you do nothing the others will keep flirting with her and who knows what could happen.” I look at her shocked. “It’s in your eyes Sonny.”

An hour later everyone came back from the water and we went to play some footvolley. We paired everyone up and Y/N ended up being my partner. She was amazing at that and we had a lot of fun. She was flirting with me the whole time and I was hoping the girls weren't noticing it.

We stopped playing and were getting ready to leave, when Kelley whispered in my ear. “You better do something girl, she is flirting with you the whole day, everyone noticed. If you don’t do something we will.” “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She just shaked her head and went toward Ash and Tobin, whispered something to them and they went to Y/N.

“So Y/n, we had a lot of fun today and we really wanted to get to know you better. Tell us a little bit more about you.” Tobin asked. “Well, you already know I’m 25 and am a lifeguard. I graduated from the University of Virginia with a degree in exercise and sports science. I give surf classes for kids and I’m also a coach for some amatour surfer athletes. And I’m a sports lover.”

“Wait, too much information. You’re a surf coach?” Ashlyn asked incredibly. “Yeah? Sorry but you were the one who made the bet.” “That explains a lot.”

Becky was the one to speak now. “You went to Virginia? That’s awesome me too, so does Moe and Sonnett, but it doesn’t have a beach there.” “Yeah, I know. I took a pause from the beach while I was studying and worked at a waterpark over there.”

“I got a question…” Oh no, Kelley shut up. “Are you single?” With that Y/N wined her eyes and blush a little, she looked at me and then back to Kelley.

“No?” “You don’t seem too sure about that.” Tobin interjected. “I mean, no, I’m not single. But we haven’t told anyone besides family yet, so…” “Wait a second, so you’re not single? Are you sure? I’m way confused right now.” “Yeah, I’m sure. She actually loves soccer, she loves you guys.”

While the rest of the girls started asking other questions for Y/n. Kelley looked at me with a ‘sorry dude’ look. I understand why she was like that, I mean Y/n was indeed flirting with me, everyone was probably confused as to why she was flirting with me if she has a girlfriend. But they were clueless and I was having a lot of fun with it, so I decided to enjoy it a little bit more and so I spoke up.

“Hey Y/N we actually have the whole day off, so we were thinking of hanging out together and going out for dinner. What do you say? Wanna come?” Y/N looked at me with a intrigued look, but agreed either way. “Yeah, I would love to.”

“Your girlfriend would be okay with that?” Ashlyn asked. “Yeah she wouldn’t mind.”

“Maybe you can call her right now and talk to her just to make sure?” I said, Y/n was really confused right now, she was trying to understand what I mean with that. I just nodded and saw a smirk appear on her face. “Yeah, that will be great.” Some girls looked at me, don’t getting what I was doing. Christen added. “And if you want to invite her, you said she was a fan, we can surprise her if you want to” “Of course, it will be fun”.

Y/n got her phone and made the call. “So who is gonna talk?” Y/N look at me and I nod toward Kelley. “O’hara you think you can do it? She would love that?” Y/n asked “Of course. What's her name again?” “Oh, you don’t need that” She looked at her phone and back at me, I gave her a reassuring look as she started to talk.

“Hi babe. So I’m at the beach now, and there are some girls here that want to say hi to you.” She put on speaker for everyone to hear. “Hi. It’s Kelley O’hara here, and you are talking with half of the national team.” Silent went over the line, the girls started looking at each other and Y/n spoke.

“She is probably in shock, can you tell her about the dinner?” “Yeah, so we just asked Y/n if she wants to come to dinner with us and we also would like to invite you, so what do you say?” I waited a moment and answered on my phone. “I would love to, but I thought that as I was the one who made the invitation I was already invited.”

Everyone looked at me and then back to Y/n, they were in shock. Y/n has that stupid smile on her face that I love so much and answered. “That’s good babe, can’t wait.” We just kept looking at each other's eyes. Oh god, I love this girl so much. When Kelley yelled.

“Wait a minute. Why did you call Sonnett?” “Well you asked for me to call my girlfriend. So I did.” Y/n spoke with a smirk on her face “The Emily Sonnett, this girl here is your girlfriend?” “Hey, what do you mean by that? I can’t date a hot girl?”

With that I went to Y/n side, hugged her and she gave me a peck “And you let me, no, you let us, drool over you girlfriend and didn’t say a thing?” I couldn’t get the smile out of my face. “It was funny and I didn’t know yet if she was going to be okay with that.” “That is no excuse, you should have told me, it is not like I was going to tell the world.” Kelley complained and crossed her arms on her chest. “Okay Kelley, less drama. We are happy for you Sonny.” “Thanks Chris, someone here is mature.”

“Wait, does it mean that now we have to give Y/n the shovel talk?” Tobin asked with a serious face. “No!” I protest. “Sorry Sonnett, we have to, it's the team's rules.” Ash responded. “That’s okay babe, I can take it.”

“Fine, but only if Moe gets to be there.” “What? Why? Moe can’t hurt a fly” Becky said. “Because she will make sure you don’t scare Y/n away, she will be on her side.” “Why would she do that?” “Babe you can’t ask Moe that, just because she is my friend.” “Wait, Moe knew?” Kelley said, trying to look hurt. “Way to throw me under the bus Sonny.” Moe complained.

“Of course, she helped me with the plan of asking Y/n out. We studied together, you forgot?” “Of course you were all Cavaliers. That’s it Y/n you are coming with us for dinner, there is no space for debate. We need to see if you are good for Sonnett. Let’s go everyone” With Megan orders everyone start to go back to where the vans were. I got my stuff and I was about to follow the girls, when Y/n pulled my arm.

“Hey hot stuff, I missed you.” She passed her arms over my shoulders and I hugged her waist. “Hi babe, I missed you too. Sorry about doing it without asking you first. But when the girls pulled over and I saw which beach we were at and that you were here, I started thinking about it, and then you were so hot saving the boy, and the girls liked you so much, and they saw you flirting with me, so…” I was interrupted by a kiss. Y/n ’s lips were so soft and rough at the same time. The way she pulls me closer to her and deepens the kiss, I miss her so much.

“That’s okay honey. I loved meeting your teammates.” “What do you say about us skipping dinner? I really missed your lips...” I kissed her lips. “Your neck...” I kissed her neck, and started to touch her body. “I missed all of this, your body is perfect.” She gave a large sigh and pushed me away “Even though I would love to go to our house and make out with you for the rest of the night. I'm sure the girls wouldn’t approve of it. Let’s go, as soon as we get to dinner, sooner you can get this body.” “Nooo, I’m really regretting telling the girls today.” “The good point is that now you don’t have to sneak out anymore, you can always say you are going out with your girlfriend.” “Okay, but one last thing.” I gave her a passionate kiss, until we heard the girls yelling at us from afar. “I love you Y/n.” “I love you too Em. Now let’s go.” We intercalated our hands and walked to where the girls were waiting for us. This night was amazing and now I can say to the world that the Hot Lifeguard is mine.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #emily sonnett #emily sonnett x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

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