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phantomrose96 · 4 years

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Twisting Fate

(A what-if idea I had. adjusted the canon timeline a little)

...

From Recovery Girl’s perspective, Sir Nighteye was a horizon.

Lying stiff in his hospital bed, with the setting sun creeping lower at his right, Nighteye’s whole body became ridges of shadows. His face was gaunter, paler at the precipice of death. Caverns hid his eyes, and every sharp angle of his frame threw swaths of shadow, magnified larger, over the left wall of his room. Machines like snakes clawed into his midsection, all cold metallic tubes replacing the functions of organs that had been shredded through. Recovery Girl sat on a stool to his left, shaded in this darkness, smelling on the heat of the radiator the familiar smell of death.

“I have… a theory…” Nighteye’s words were hardly even whispers. They were stow-away nuances on the raspy rattle of his breath. “…and it will bother me if I die without ever having resolved it.”

“What’s your theory?” Recovery Girl asked. She was too used to this, being the receptacle for the last thoughts, wonders, worries, and dreams of dying heroes.

“Izuku Midoriya… He may--…it is possible—he may have a quirk.”

“A quirk, as in one beside One For All, I assume.”

“Not One For All. Beyond that. His own quirk. I have a theory…”

“Izuku Midoriya was diagnosed quirkless. Does this affect your theory?”

Silence rattled around them. Nighteye’s chest rose and fell faintly. “As in… the vestigial joint in the smallest toe, and no observable quirk of his own?”

“Yes, he matches those criteria,” Recovery Girl confirmed.

Sir Nighteye said nothing in immediate response. He laid in silence to catch his breath, and let the room fall back under the sedation of his blipping heart monitor.

“The correlation… of the additional toe joint to quirklessness is about 99%. It is possible for Midoriya to still have a quirk.”

“That is true.” The lamp in the corner clicked on, softly yellow, blanketing the room as the creeping darkness of nighttime set in. “We don’t know how many cases of quirklessness are false positives. What is it that makes you think Midoriya has a quirk?”

Nighteye let out a rattling breath. “By my own nature, and the nature of my quirk… I take pride in having evidence for my claims. I’d like to investigate this before I tell you. …The doctors estimate they can keep me alive like this for three days, at most. Do you think that’s accurate?”

“Three and a half, now that I’ve healed you some,” Recovery Girl answered.

“That’s enough. There’s someone I’d like you to fetch for me.”

“All Might.”

“No,” Nighteye answered with the faintest shake of his head. “Shota Aizawa. He should be in this same hospital. Please bring him to me.”

…

Aizawa and Nighteye spoke only briefly, with an agreement to help, and a message to pass along. Two messages, more precisely.

Aizawa got himself released from the hospital by 6am the next morning, having not slept, and having pulled some strings with the night nurses who knew him well to expedite the process. By 7am, he was back at the U.A. dorms, the very atmosphere asleep this early on a Saturday morning.

Only two students were awake: Momo Yaoyorozu, reading comfortably on the common area couch with a blanket swaddled around her, and Tenya Iida, preparing enough toast in the kitchen to cover breakfast for the entire class.

It was Iida who Aizawa flagged, and pulled aside, and passed the message along to: There was a dying pro hero whom Iida had never met asking for his presence. Aizawa had no further details on what the man wanted, or why, and he knew Nighteye well enough to assume that neither he nor Iida would ever be informed.

The lack of information agitated Iida. His arms jittered, and he pressed for information on why, and what had happened, and what his presence would mean to Nighteye. Aizawa could only shrug and ask if the withholding of that information affected Iida’s answer. Iida paused to consider this only briefly. And then he agreed, of course, because any self-respecting hero-in-training would do everything in his power to satisfy the dying wish of a citizen.

…

When Sunday set in, Aizawa did not go prowling through the dorm areas until the early afternoon, because the other message he had to pass along was for Katsuki Bakugou, and Bakugou’s whole morning was booked solid with provisional license training.

When Aizawa found Bakugou, the boy was freshly showered and sporting a litany of new scrapes and bandages, thumbs jamming aggressively into one of the dorm’s three console controllers for the shared GameStation. From the neighboring couch, Kirishima yelled at Bakugou to not mess us the toggles, to which Bakugou fired off several choice, colorful words back.

Aizawa didn’t bother scolding him. He only pulled Bakugou aside, and gave him the same message as Iida: Pro Hero Nighteye wanted to see him.

Bakugou sneered at this. He knew the name as Deku’s work-study boss, and knew it more potently now that the recent news story broke, and Nighteye’s name made it to the local stations as a hero in critical condition after a daring rescue.

Bakugou asserted this had nothing to do with him. That none of this was his problem. That he owed nothing to a man he’d never met and shouldn’t be expected to bow to his whim. Aizawa said nothing in response. He let the silence linger, and let Bakugou fester in the echo of his own words. Bakugou cracked the silence with a growl of frustration, and a crackle of his palms, and a spat declaration of “fine”.

Aizawa thanked him for his cooperation, and asked if now would be a bad time to follow him to Nighteye’s hospital.

…

By the third day of his hospice stay, Nighteye had become more machine than man. He fostered little presence. His only motion came from the respirator breathing for him. His harsh angles and stark shadows had decayed, softened, sank with him into his very-little-at-all-ness into the bed.

Recovery Girl sat beside him once more. In theory she had come to change bandages and administer healing, but at the sight of the man, she knew even that much was not worthwhile. It was only Nighteye’s comfort that mattered now. She set up an IV drip to ease his breathing and pain, but it would not heal him. At best, it would offer him just a wisp of his voice back.

“Have you resolved your theory about Izuku Midoriya’s quirk?” she asked simply. It was another skill she’d fostered in her professional life – to ask the leading questions of dying people, who in death seemed so strangely prone to avoiding any direct answers.

To her surprise, Nighteye smiled.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Would you like to tell me?”

“Yes. You are the only person right now I trust with this information. I need to pass it along, and I have no one else in mind.”

“And once you’ve told me, should I tell Midoriya too?”

“I don’t know. I trust you to figure that out, if it’s right or not.”

“What’s Midoriya’s quirk?”

Nighteye said nothing at first. He stared at the ceiling, as it seemed he possessed little of the necessary strength to look elsewhere.

“During the fight against Overhaul… I saw Midoriya die. I saw it with my Foresight,” he said, not answering the direct question, which did little to surprise Recovery Girl. “My Foresight has never been wrong. Sometimes, purely in denial, I’ve convinced myself it could, theoretically, be wrong, if only to not feel so hopeless about the futures I’ve seen. But 35 years without a single incorrect prediction is… a devastatingly consistent precedent to contend with.”

“I know this about you. Midoriya was the first to change that future?”

“It was… Chisaki’s future… that I was looking at. I saw him kill Midoriya. I saw him escape. So it was Chisaki’s future that changed. And I suspected, the more I thought about it, that Midoriya may have done it.”

“What do you think his quirk is?”

“I… have more context… I want to explain myself. I asked Shota Aizawa to bring me two U.A. students.”

“Iida and Bakugou. Shota told me.”

“Iida, because, if my hunch was correct, he would be affected too. And he was. My hunch was correct.”

“What was your hunch?”

“When I used my Foresight on him, I saw something I’ve never seen before… All futures I’ve seen are linear. A movie to play out. Singular, immutable, and certain. What I saw in Iida was more like… tree branches twisting around a trunk. One which was strong, and bold, and most clear ahead of him. Like what I usually see. It was a bright and happy future. A future he’s earned. One to be proud of.”

“I’m glad. Tenya Iida is a kind boy.”

“But the small futures… I’ve never seen them before. All gnarled and withered, twisting in and out…. Most of those were empty. I see this when someone is soon to die, but… these looked as though Iida had already died. Several times over. Other small twisted ones… he was still alive, but not a hero, not a U.A. graduate, too heavily incapacitated. No use of his arms. Limited use of his legs.”

“And what does this tell you?”

Nighteye offered just wheezes, catching his breath.

“With… with Bakugou. It was similar but... Bakugou had many more gnarled branches than Iida. Some empty… Others where, it seemed he had never even gotten into U.A. Others as the League of Villains’ hostage. Others in jail. They were not uniform. Some were faint, so I could hardly detect them. Some were so far removed from our reality, as if they’d forked over a decade ago. …Do not worry, his main future is bright.”

“I know All Might has a lot of hope for that boy.” Recovery Girl pushed off her stool. She went and cracked the hospital window open, so that the fresh air may do something for the sweat coalescing on Nighteye’s brow.

“Izuku Midoriya… I know many things about him. Gathering intel is a specialty of mine. And I know he has been lucky in unfathomable ways. Bakugou, that boy, he saved from the League of Villains. Iida, he saved from Stain, just barely, as I understand it. Midoriya’s own acceptance into U.A. was improbable at best. His rescue of a boy named Kota should have been his end, but it wasn’t. He was involved in a fight against the serial killer Moon Fish. He was Shigaraki’s hostage briefly. He played the main role in orchestrating Bakugou’s rescue from the League of Villains. And now, under me, he defeated Chisaki, in a fight which should, with certainty, have cost him his life.”

“There’s no need to remind me of all these. I was the one who healed that boy every time. I know he’s reckless.”

“This is beyond reckless. This is the resume of a boy who should have died many times over. …And I think, maybe, he has.”

To this, Recovery Girl gave no immediate response. Only a deep inhale, nasally, a held breath, an exhale.

“Midoriya may have died already. My Foresight wasn’t wrong, but it was posthumously corrected. It is in the strange nature of Izuku Midoriya that when the people around him should die… they don’t. Midoriya always saves them. And if my Foresight is to be believed, he does not always succeed on the first try. Those gnarled branches into Iida and Bakugou’s futures were fates in which Midoriya had not intervened. Or had failed to intervene successfully. They were fates he was able to twist off the main path, and correct under his own power of will. And that would be a quirk nigh undetectable. How would you document or observe it? The ability to undo the outcomes that ended in disaster. It’s powerful. Unfathomably powerful, if I’m correct about this. Stronger than One for All could ever be. I wonder, if I were to look at Midoriya’s future, how many twisted fates might I see?”

Recovery Girl let her eyes shift to the window, contemplating the skyline, contemplating all the near-lethal encounters Izuku Midoriya had fought through. She tried to process this possibility, and found herself failing to take it in all at once. “Do you intend to look?”

“No,” Nighteye said, and it was with finality. “I won’t make it to tomorrow. And there’s someone else whose future I need to see today.”

“If it’s All Might, I would be able to--.”

“No. It’s not All Might’s.”

To this, Recovery Girl startled. Her eyes shifted to Night Eye, who wore the smallest of smiles, his eyes squinted shut.

“After what you saw six years ago… you don’t want to see if that fate has changed?”

“All Might and I have parted ways. I am choosing to entrust his safety to Izuku Midoriya now. I am choosing to trust that that boy has saved him from that future that’s weighed me down for all these years. I am choosing… to pass the torch onto him. All Might has chosen Izuku Midoriya, and I am at peace with it… No, more than that, I accept that. I am content with that. I am happy with that.”

Recovery Girl nodded, but trepidation stiffened her movements. “…Then who is the last person you want to see?”

…

With the light fading around him, Nighteye wondered if this was the first time he’s seen Mirio cry.

The boy was endlessly bright, endlessly shining, a beacon and a pillar and someone who Nighteye was proud to call his pupil. He felt only the slightest knocking pangs of guilt in his chest for the fact that he’d only connected with Mirio as a vessel for One For All. But Mirio had proven himself well above and beyond all Nighteye’s paltry expectations. He didn’t need One For All to be strong.

The true guilt Nighteye felt was in the knowledge that it was his own fault that Mirio was crying now.

Thick opalescent tears swam in his eyes and cracked his voice. Red blotched along his cheeks and sweat clung to his brow. It was a sad sight to see, the raw and wet keens of Mirio’s voice. It was sad. Nighteye wanted nothing more than to see Mirio smile once more.

So he set a gentle palm to Mirio’s cheek, and he apologized, and he blinked his final activation of his quirk into existence.

Mirio’s future was a grand tree. Like Iida’s, like Bakugou’s, it was threaded with splintered branches. Some empty and shriveled and dead. Some dismal and bleak, twirling up like vines. Nighteye didn’t pay mind to those. He focused only on the trunk. That bright and shining pillar surging forward.

It was a future where Mirio was smiling.

A hero. In costume. Beloved and strong and willing. With a smile that alone could save a million people.

Nighteye trusted Midoriya to cultivate that fate for Mirio.

And that was enough.

So Nighteye told Mirio as much. He deserved to know this as Nighteye did. A fine hero. Finer than anyone else. He’d smile again, Nighteye was sure of it.

The light crept to dark edges around Nighteye’s vision, petering out, swimming to a coldness and a darkness and a nothingness. But it was one he could take comfort in. He focused only on the image of Mirio’s smile as the heart rate monitors ticked to nothing, and the breath vanished from his lungs, and the future set before him ran through its final swath of film.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #nighteye #sir nighteye #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction

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andyet-here-we-are · 4 years

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I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 1

For @wolfgeralt as a little ‘thank you’ for his stunning art -which I really adore, you can see it here: (x)

and for @hecky-heckicravedeath (x) who gave me inspiration for this fanfiction. Also Thanks @3tothe1 for being my beta. (You’re such a sweetheart, and I love you so much)

Anyway, I hope you like it, my dear Witchlings! 💛

I present you: NURSE GERALT!

Chapter 1 Word Count: 2461

ao3: (x)

Chapter 2 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 3 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 4 Tumblr Link: (x)

When Geralt arrives for his shift, still feeling exhausted from yesterday, he has no idea what’s waiting for him at the hospital. His days are never too ordinary because you never know what you’ll come across.

That’s a part of being a nurse.

But he could never think that one of the not-so-famous musicians, his daughter, Ciri adores, was going to have a terrible traffic accident—which somehow isn’t on the news—and end up in the hospital he works at.

He already knows his name since Ciri just can’t stop talking about how nice he is and how he sounds like an angel. To the point where sometimes Geralt wants to say “Okay he is wonderful, so kind and lovely and you really love him, I get it. Can you please just keep eating your pasta? Yes Ciri, yes, I know that pasta is his favorite food, you say that every time we’re having pasta. ”

Geralt isn’t there for his intake, apparently, the accident happened last night, and the musician was badly injured.

Jaskier has a ruptured spleen that caused internal hemorrhaging, which the doctors were able to repair. He also has a mild concussion, a couple of broken ribs, along with some cuts and a broken leg which he is probably going to need another surgery for.

Since the other nurse who was responsible for Jaskier last night, is having some family issues and has to take his annual leave, Jaskier is in Geralt’s care now, they let Geralt know.

When Geralt is home, Ciri starts talking about how Jaskier hadn’t posted anything in two days, and how worried she is since Jaskier had promised them a new song, “He never breaks his promises,” she says.

Geralt thinks that keeping the fact that the young man was in a traffic accident to himself is a better idea.

***

Three days later, when Geralt cracks open the door to Jaskier’s room, the man still sounds asleep, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath he takes as the morphine keeps dripping into his system. It’s enough to keep him subdued, if not completely pain-free.

He checks his IV, and takes a few notes onto his clipboard, right before the musician comes to, his eyelids fluttering.

And damn if he hasn’t got the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen in his whole life. Even when they lack the spark Geralt is sure they normally hold in them.

Jaskier is confused, of course. So he tells him about what has happened and clears his throat before speaking.

“Mr. Pankratz, I need to take your vitals and then give you some medicines for the pain, may I have your arm?”

“Hell you can, might as well take my poor heart that seems to be beating for—” Jaskier flirts and coughs before he has the chance to finish, his voice is low and hoarse from lack of use.

Geralt makes no comments, and fills a cup of water for him instead, helping him to drink it. He is surprised by the musician’s flattering words, and he is also glad that he is good at keeping a neutral expression on his face.

“…you.” He finishes. “Well, I would normally use the ‘am I dead and in Heaven?’ cliché, but, see,” Jaskier keeps talking after sipping some water “I’m in too much pain to think that I’m in heaven. You sure look like a sexy angel or something though. Ohoho, are you gonna give me a sponge bath, too? Just wondering. If so, I’m totally down for it. Just so you know.”

Geralt can’t help but snort at that a bit, “Do you always talk that much?”

“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t talk enough, you ever considered that?” Jaskier teases, and then suddenly his whole playful expression changes like he remembered that he had left his cat on the stone, and he frowns to himself, “Oh God, three days you said? Shitshitshit,” he drops his head back onto his pillows in a way too dramatic manner, covering his eyes with one hand “I had promised them a new song,” the nurse hears him mumbling “I am such an idiot.”

Jaskier truly seems so disappointed in himself that Geralt feels the need of comforting him. The man had a traffic accident, for crying out loud!

And yet, he is concerned for his fans because he couldn’t keep his promise, rather than being worried for himself.

Not even an hour has passed since he had the chance to talk to the man, but he already can see why Ciri likes this guy that much.

“It’s not your fault that some idiot decided that running a red light and colliding with your car was a good idea,” Geralt says “don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jaskier still seems disappointed, but he mumbles a silent 'thank you’ before he says “ you may be right, but I promised them.”

***

Days go like this: Jaskier keeps flirting with him every time Geralt steps into his room to check on him and give him his medicines. Geralt never flirts back because of obvious reasons, but he never tells him to stop either, even though he does judge him with his eyes now and then.

The moments Geralt can spend with the man is the most he feels happy at work.

He can’t even deny that at this point.

Ciri keeps asking him why he looks happier nowadays, and why he suddenly became clumsy all of a sudden because he loses his focus easily.

“Who is the reason behind your smile? I gotta know! C’mon, it’s not fair! Don’t leave me hanging like this!” She insists, being the stubborn girl she is, and after a second she grins like cheshire cat “You’ve finally met someone special?”

“…I might have, pumpkin” is his answer. “I might have.”

***

He doesn’t know why, but Geralt doesn’t like Thursdays. Well, it’s probably because everything bad has ever happened to him seemed to happen on Thursdays, usually.

And sadly, this Thursday is no exception.

Hank, a seventy years old man who has been here for more than a month, and who has been very ill passes away. Who he had become really close with and really cared about.

Jaskier catches his change of mood when he goes to check on him and simply says, “Talk to me. I mean, you don’t have to. But you look like you could use a friend. And I’m so bored of watching television anyway.”

So Geralt talks to him.

He talks about Hank, about how wise he was. He talks about how he has been working here for years but how it still affects him so much when someone passes away. How he doesn’t suppose to feel a connection with his patients, how terrible of a nurse that makes him.

“That makes you human, not a terrible nurse.” Jaskier assures him, his voice as gentle as always. “Believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Geralt isn’t sure when Jaskier’s hand finds his hand as they talk, and when his dainty looking, long fingers link with his; but the intimate gesture feels so natural, so right that he just lets him.

***

Jaskier has surgery for his right leg the next day, and it’s not the first time that Geralt hears his patients saying the most ridiculous things after their surgery, thanks to the sedation.

But oh boy, if Jaskier doesn’t take it to a whole new level.

“Maaarry meee, my dear nurse!” the musician yells, “we could make the most adorable babies together! One of them would have my voice, one of them would have your weirdly sexy brooding or something. One of them would have my…. my tongue? Or eyes? Cheeks! Yes, cheeks. And the other would have your lips while the other would have your… DIMPLE! I love that cute dimple you have on your jaw! ”

Geralt laughs, because how can he not?

“That’s biologically impossible.” the nurse says. “Also how many kids you have in mind? That was awfully a lot.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Marie, Duchess,” Jaskier starts to count with his fingers, and he looks so damn adorable that Geralt finds it extremely hard to not just reach out and ruffle his hair. “Thomas O'Malley, Toulouse, and Berlioz. So, six!”

“It’s five, actually,” Geralt tilts his head to the side slightly and corrects him with a fond, little smile. “So… you’re planning to name your kids after The Aristocats?”

“Our kids, mind you. And I’m not straight, love. You can’t expect me to do the math, I don’t make the rules.”

Love.

He just called Geralt ‘love’

“He probably calls ‘love’ everyone,” the nurse reminds himself and swallows, not being able to focus on what Jaskier says for a minute or so. “You’re no special.”

But the way Jaskier utters that one word, makes him feel like he is lying to himself.

When he can finally focus on what he is saying, Jaskier is still talking about the same topic.

“…and you should be grateful that I’m not planning to name them after Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! If we’re gonna have more than six, I’m totally doing that though.”

“Why Mr. Pankratz, we’re not even married yet. But I already don’t have a say in anything, it seems.” Geralt can’t help but tease with the young man in return.

Jaskier waves one hand weakly: “Don’t take this as my marriage proposal though, I’m better than that. If I were to propose to you I would do that in the most wonderful way. Roses, candles, and everything. Even fireworks.”

Geralt remains silent, so Jaskier talks again: “And ya know, joking aside, actually we couldn’t name them unless we adopted them when they were babies.”

“Why do you want so many kids?” the nurse wonders, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, growing up in a foster care system will do that to you,” Jaskier lets out a loud and somehow cute yawn.

Geralt knows that he wasn’t even supposed to ask that, and he shouldn’t even listen to Jaskier rambling about his life, which he won’t even remember after the sedative effect wears off.

But he can’t suppress his need of knowing more about him.

He just can’t.

“Wanna adopt as many kids as I can, so I can provide ’em a life filled full of love and everything they deserve. All the beautiful things in the universe. All the things I couldn’t have when I was a kid.” Jaskier admits, and his words make Geralt’s heart clench in his chest.

At that moment, Geralt is sure that he is falling so hard for the musician.

Maybe he already did.

“Don’t think that I’m not gonna name our dogs after them though. Or cats.” Jaskier mumbles. He looks like he is just two seconds away from falling into a deep sleep.

Right when he moves to leave, Jaskier grabs his hand as he softly, sweetly whispers, “Geralt, don’t leave me.” And he sounds so vulnerable, so weak that the nurse’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

Geralt would love to say that he doesn’t leave all night, but he has other patients he needs to check on, so he leaves.

But not before staying for five minutes as he holds the musician’s hand, and watches him fall asleep. Nobody needs to know, right?

***

The next day, Jaskier doesn’t remember most of the things he had said last night, but somehow he remembers that Geralt had stayed for a while.

That day, feeling guilty about yesterday, Geralt talks about his life.

“It’s only fair,” he thinks.

He talks about Ciri, and he lets the musician know how crazy his daughter is about him. That makes Jaskier smile at him warmly, but then again, his smile is always like this.

Warmer than the sun on a hot summer day.

Blushing, Jaskier hesitantly says that he would love to meet her. His big, baby blue eyes seem to be searching for something in Geralt’s eyes.

And Geralt understands that he finds whatever he was searching for when Geralt nods and says: “We would love that, too.”

***

“Look! Jaskier finally posted something!” Ciri says one morning while they are having breakfast, well, more like Ciri is having breakfast, and Geralt is just busy with his coffee since he is in a hurry.

“Hmm?”

“Wait, was this an ‘I’m Actually Curious About What You Have To Say’ type of ‘hmm’? Because it definitely didn’t sound like your usual ‘I Don’t Care’ type of ‘hmm’. Nice! That might be the first time you actually seem curious about what I have to say about him.” Ciri smiles, and lets out a sad, little “Oh.” After reading whatever Jaskier had posted.

“He says that he is having some minor health issues…”

Geralt huffs at that.

‘Minor health issues’

If what he had gone through is “minor” to Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t even want to imagine what “major health issues” mean in his dictionary.

But he is sure that the only reason why the musician says “minor” is because he doesn’t want to worry his fans.

“‘I am in good hands though—I mean it, really really good hands—so no need to worry. Love you all, xoxo’ Hmm… I hope it’s nothing serious.”

The nurse looks at his daughter’s phone screen and the excessive amount of winking face emojis after ‘really really good hands’ part catches his attention.

He tries to hide his smile behind his black coffee mug.

And luckily, he succeeds.

***

A few days later, it’s time for Jaskier to be discharged from the hospital. And Geralt feels a bit sad about it, to be honest. Because he is already used to having the young man around.

To his never-ending flirting and jokes, to his smile, to his everything.

But the good thing is, that means that he will be no longer his patient.

Jaskier gives him his number before he leaves, and tells Geralt to call him whenever he is free.

“I’m totally getting into another accident and make sure they bring me here if you don’t call, Mr. Handsome Nurse,” the musician jokes in a low voice.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Geralt smiles. “You can be sure that I’ll call, Jaskier. And we can even have some pasta maybe.”

It’s the first time that Geralt calls him by his first name, and the nurse can see how the other man’s smile widens when he does that, eyes sparkling.

“Wow. Now I have no doubt about how much Ciri talks about me,“ scratching the back of his head, Jaskier chuckles shyly, and it’s music to his ears. Ciri is right. He does sound like an angel.

"Till we meet again, Geralt. Till we meet again.”

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #dandelion #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #the witcher fanfiction #nurse geralt au #I Would Get Into Millions Of Accidents Just To See You #my writing

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intricate-oeuvre · 4 years

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On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part XI

Word count: 2.5k+

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: nakedness, bad grammar. angst, Geralt doesn't know what are feelings

A/N: I have certain schedule when I post updates. that is, the last part has to reach certain note count before I upload the next part. THANK YOU FOR READING!

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

What? Axelia’s eyes grew big, small confusion settling in her. She looked around. Shit.

This was his room.

That’s why his shirt was there.

As she heard him drop his boots and unbutton his pants, she sat up straighter, her hands sliding to the edges of the tub.

Next second she was out of the bath, drenched like a rat in pouring rain and with swift hands grabbed the towel to press it against her chest. But Geralt was as fast- his hands encircled her waist and held her above the ground. Axelia let out a shriek and started kicking and hissing at him.

“Towel. Drop it.” He said to her.

“Geralt. Put. Me. Down.” Axelia hissed at him. He did put her down, but didn’t let go of her.

“Get back in the tub or I’m going to throw you back in with the damned towel.” He threatened her.

“You wouldn’t.” Axelia gasped. But then again, this was Geralt who they were talking about.

Next second Axelia was under water, alongside her towel. With splutter and angry grunt, she rose up, the towel all wet now and soaked as it rested on her head.

Axelia looked as some kind of a vile monster- her hair, spread across her back and shoulders like sea-weeds and the drenched towel on her head and face. She pulled off the towel and with stare that could kill, Axelia looked at Geralt, who was now in the tub opposite her.

“There you are, princess.” He teased her in mock sarcasm. Axelia opened her mouth as water poured out from it, making Geralt bark out a laugh at her. She hated that Geralt called her like that.

It had stuck with him when he had heard Eskel call her like that because she was the only girl around the school. They all were drunk at the time and picking drunken fights with each other and just primarily having great time. When fellow witcher had said that she should be treated as a princess, since she is the only female witcher, ever. She had smacked Eskel in head with a wooden spoon for that. And right after that Lambert also had called her a princess, which earned him- a smack of spoon on his forehead too, without a doubt. They all were too drunk to fight back. Of course, Geralt had to jump in on it as well. He had been sitting across her, and as Axelia had leaned across the table to smack him in the head with the spoon, he had leaned back, out of her reach. With grunt she-witcher had climbed swiftly across the table top, grabbing onto his shoulder and thus making both of them fall on the ground with laughter as she just had balanced the spoon on his forehead. But those were absent times now.

“You, complete arse.” She spat, and threw the wet towel at him. With smack it landed on his shoulder. Still chuckling, he pushed it to the floor.

Axelia stuck her tongue out at him. Geralt didn’t seem to notice that, now more content on getting himself clean as he scrubbed his arms with washcloth.

Axelia only huffed and dragged her hands upward her face, to get hair out of her mouth and eyes. Her hands staying on sides of her head, elbows raised.

“I’m getting out.” She said, more to herself than Geralt, as her hands flew to the edges.

“There’s no towel.” Geralt answered mater of factly.

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” Axelia turned and hissed at him. With a grunt she rose from the tub and stepped out. She didn’t shy away from him. Nothing he hadn’t seen before and vice versa. With her bare back to the witcher, she stopped at the table and carefully picked up the rings. One at the time, and slid them on her pale fingers. Her skin felt soft and ample from the bath. Meanwhile, Geralt looked at her, shamelessly letting his eyes travel along her back, watching how water droplets were running down her figure.

Gathering all of her rings, she made her way towards the curtains and disappeared behind them, leaving witcher to bathe alone.

For some time, he enjoyed the bath, basking in silence when someone out of nowhere, emptied a bucket of water on his head.

“I said you need a bath!” Axelia laughed behind him, bucket still in her hands. With hands on both sides of the tub, Geralt turned to look behind him, at her, water running from his hair, down his face.

She was dressed in his black shirt which barely covered her bottom, leaving enough for one’s imagination; one sleeve rolled up as the other was left loosely dangling around her wrist. But other than that, the shirt itself was neatly buttoned up.

“Come here.” Geralt tried to reach for her, but she took a quick step back, dropping her hands at her sides.

“Bathe. Then we’ll talk.” Axelia said seriously, leaning down to put bucket on the floor.

“Hmm. Don’t trust your talk. You usually run away.” Geralt grunted, his eyes catching her movement a she pulled the stool and sat down on it. Hands length away from him.

“Where am I going to run- naked?” Axelia hummed in return as she put her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in her hands.

“In my shirt.” Geralt corrected, leaning back against the tub, his eyes scanning her form. Axelia hummed, and just stared at the edge of the tub.

“Thank you for having my back, I guess.” She mumbled.

“Hmm… You are an absolute idiot.” Geralt tilted his head back, looking at her down his nose as his hand was circling in the water, sending small ripples across the surface.

“I know. I though there’s going to be only couple of ghouls.” Axelia sighed.

“In old war crypt? Only ghouls? I thought that papa Vesemir taught you better.” Geralt raised his eyebrows as he ducked his head towards her, almost seemingly similar to a inquisitive way.

“Fuck off.” Axelia wasn’t having any of his jests. “I have made enough of a fool out of myself these past days.”

“Have you now?” He said, running wet hands through his hair.

“Don’t laugh at me. You, of all the people.” Axelia grunted and turned her whole body away from him.

“Axelia.” Geralt hummed defeated, his hand reaching for her knees to turn her back, facing him.

“I know I fucked up. Don’t lecture me.” Axelia looked at him.

“I’m not.” Geralt assured her, studying her features, and the fact that she was playing with her rings.

“Show me.” He extended his hand, waiting for her to take it, in a way distracting her thoughts. She putted her hands in his.

She had started wearing rings, when Geralt had brought one for her when they were younger and he had gone for his witcher travels and she had stayed back. The first ring he got her was a dainty one, because he hadn’t been sure, if she would like it. Simple silver band with three dark crystals on top, that was sitting on her left hand’s fourth finger. Another one of his gifts had been a much more colossal one- silver wolf head. Situated on her right hand’s pointer finger. He run his thumb across it, but didn’t dwell long on it. Third one, that he had gotten for her was another smaller one, this time with white rock that had translucent turquoise tone to it. It had reminded him of the mix of her old eye colour and the one she had now. This one was gracing her right hand’s ring finger. With two other rings he was not familiar with. He looked at the two small silver bands, simple, nothing on them, just adorning her left hands middle and pointer finger.

“All silver.” Geralt stated.

“Yes. Because you said you won’t let me have those silver wolf brass knuckles. These come as handy. Especially strangling wise.” Her statement made him look up at her with this weird expression, like he was repelled or something.

“Oh, don’t you look at me like that.” Axelia pulled both of her hands away, but Geralt was quick enough to grab one before she pulled away entirely.

“Experimenting, are we?” Geralt laced his fingers with hers.

“You know that I never slept with anyone else.” Axelia’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Jaskier?” he raised questioning eyebrow at her.

“Gods, no. Never went as far as kiss him. He gets… distracted, if you will…” Axelia’s own brows creased as she was trying to search for words.

“He loves everything that has two legs.” Geralt offered.

“But he’s a good friend.”

“Hmm.”

“You and Yennefer. She’s as mother to Ciri.” Axelia voiced her observations.

Another hmm.

“Thank you…” Axelia trailed off, when silence stretched across the room.

“Thank you for saving me, for not letting me die out there and thanks to Yennefer too, I would have probably bled out without her stiches. Thank you for all the best memories—” Axelia started quietly.

“Why are you-” Geralt couldn’t understand why was she saying this to him. Whenever they met, she never voiced such things.

“I’m leaving in the morning. This time I’m telling you.” She looked him in the eyes. The scorching amber. A tone that one could never catch in a pendant.

“No.” Geralt’s eyes grew big as he gently shook his head, his hold on Axelia’s wrist getting stronger, but not causing any pain.

“We should draw the line.” Axelia shook her head in return tilting it sideways.

“You think that drawing a line will stop us from running into each other?” Geralt said, his brows creasing and his tone gaining an edge of irritation.

With shake of her head, Axelia pulled her hand out of his grasp.

“Don’t you think it’s exhausting?” Axelia sighed, hugging herself. Her wet hair falling around her shoulders in clumps. Geralt didn’t answer, he never really was on for explaining emotions, his own or others.

“I told you it hurts. To an extent that it almost physically hurts.” Axelia whispered, her voice dropping, almost fading into nothing.

“Axelia…” Geralt whispered her name in return.

“Aren’t we cursed enough?” Axelia suddenly turned to look at Geralt. Her eyes brimming with tears and her mouth unexpectedly going dry. The look on her face making the male witcher intake a sharp breath.

Running her hand under her nose, Axelia got up and disappeared behind the thick drapes. As she was nicking around the room and choosing which pants should she take, she couldn’t will the tears away. With huff pulling on new pants and tying her boots, Axelia sat on the edge of bed. Her legs looking long for her small stature and her shoulders almost gaining a lanky look because of Geralt’s big shirt. Woman’s hands falling in her lap as she looked around the room, her lips pulling in a frown as tears anew streamed down her cheeks. Her marble-like eyes stopping at the drapes and blinking rapidly, she silently chocked out a sob, her mouth falling open. With sniffle, she dug the heels of her palms in her eyes, her nails digging in her head as she groaned in fury. She couldn’t ignore her emotions for long, she will explode. Yet it was the only thing she knew how to do. Running her finger under her nose she got up. Seeing her corset draped over the chair she swiftly put it on. Axelia glanced out of the window at the light that was slowly disappearing, and grabbing her stuff she was ready to leave the room. In no way, will she be staying in that room. Not alone, not with him.

“Already running?” Came Geralt’s voice as Axelia tried to reach for the door handle. She froze, sigh escaping her as one tear run down her cheek to land on her forearm that was not obstructed by his shirt.

“Maybe.” Axelia said, her voice gaining unusual tone because of her stuffed nose.

“I stand by what I said.” Axelia was referring to what she had said back at the edge of the forest.

“Please. Don’t follow me.” Axelia closed her eyes, her hand gripping the handle tighter.

“You think I can control that?” Geralt said behind her, pulling on his shirt.

“But you must. For my sake.” Axelia whispered, not sure if Geralt even heard her.

“Just… promise me that you won’t come seek me out. Never again… even if your gut is telling you otherwise.” Axelia looked over her shoulder at him, half hiding her tears.

“Gut? You really think it’s my gut telling me to look for you? No instinct, no witcher senses are telling me that.” Geralt spat at her, growing tired of her running.

“Then what is?!” Axelia swiftly turned around to look at him. Geralt grabbed stepped closer to her, kind of expecting for her to step back but she didn’t even flinch. Her eyes only following his movement. Then he grabbed her right hand and pressed to his chest, right where his heart was.

“This is.”

Axelia’s eyes stayed trained on his chest, on their hands. His hands always seemed warmer than hers.

“Yennefer… it’s all magic… djinn.” Geralt explained, his eyes searching her face.

Axelia’s furrowed, she wasn’t sure that she was understanding him. Did she hear him right?

“W-what?” she mumbled, her eyes closing for a second.

“The last wish,” Geralt choose to stay vague. “…to save her.”

For a second, Axelia’s nails lightly grazed his shirt. And then her eyebrows slowly rose up.

“It’s not real…” Axelia mumbled, and gently pushed herself away from him. Geralt tilted his head, not understanding her actions.

“But you love her…” Axelia looked up at him.

“But she’s not my soulmate.” Geralt narrowed his eyes at her.

Did he really think that after all this time of being completely alone, she will just run back in his arms?

“Took you a really long time to realize that, Geralt.” Axelia smiled bitterly at him. Now, when she thought that she will be finally ready to cut things off and fight this feeling of love, he comes prancing back, confusing her.

“Why now?” she looked warily down at her own hands.

“I could let you go only so many times. And every time I did… I regretted it. Didn’t matter if Yennefer was there or not nor Jaskier’s constant babbles of me being and stupid arse.” Geralt’s eyes were jumping from one item to another all around the room.

“It’s funny how fate has made us like this… You could break my heart thousands of times, Geralt. And I still would pick of every single peace and put them back into your hands. But I am not sure, if those pieces haven’t turned into sharp daggers.” Axelia hummed, her fingers toying with her rings.

“I rather be spitting blood and bleed out myself, than rather watch you leave one more time.” Geralt looked down at her.

Axelia looked at him. Unsure of what to do. Not knowing any better, she took one swift step and crushed into his chest. Missing his warmth dearly. With a small grunt from Axelia’s sudden movement, Geralt wrapped his hands around her, planting a small chaste kiss on her forehead.

~~~~~

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

tags:

@boiled-onionrings @fandomwithnolifesblog @901seconds @kingniazx @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong @stitchattacks @ayamenimthiriel @stormfire6 @mr-illegal-king @stretchkingblog97 @mikariell95 @geralt-of-motherfucking-rivia @martian-m @republicansithlord @notso-fetch @lizliz3107 @godlydolans @arsaky-lou @eternallyvenus @le-reina-asesina @alwayshave-faith @writingmi @staringmoony @kenai731 @holychic @dramaticturnaway @ihopeyousteponarosepetal @seouldesire @runs-with-sciss0rs @yes-captainstark @fandomhell97 @newtdisneywho @ekaymnslvs @deansbbyblog @hopplessdreamer @dejewskoo @sleepy-bunnie @strangerliaa @puffedchoco @mommableaubear @secretsthathauntus @sailor-moons-butt @sageandberries-png @star017 @rahdaleigh

a/n: pardon, if Tumblr doesn't let me tag you

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

Bite my Tongue

Pairing: Blossom x Butch (blossutch)

Fandom: PowerPuff Girls

Words: 6027

So I had this idea a while ago and suddenly i was struck with inspiration. This is probably the longest one shot ive done and im actually really proud of this so please be nice and show some love! Im sorry to everyone not in the fandom and just waiting for me to get off the ppg high but ahahhahah no. Anyways i hope you enjoy.

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Blossom was never one to shout out her opinions. She always thought them through before letting others know what she had to say. She took into consideration every perspective and point of view and if it was a question relying heavily on morals, she had already decided the right answer in her head. She was bold but never brash, unlike Buttercup who would jump straight into anything and figure out the ending later. Even Bubbles’s heavy heart could cloud her judgement at times, Blossom tried to be the one to even out the score.

She could hold her tongue if she didn't agree because it was too much of a headache to correct every single person, she wanted to, but she knew her limits. She was an extremely educated woman. She taught herself how to read and do basic math days after she was “born”. She graduated top of her class in every school, preschool, elementary, middle and high school where she had to unfortunately share the top spot with Brick who had the same exact GPA as her down to the 11th decimal point. Yes, they checked that far.

She went to an elite college and worked her way into a PHD for Organic Chemistry, Marine Biology and even Law. No one knew more than her, except maybe Brick, but that was still up for debate because she graduated one week before him. They had a conjoined party and they spent most of the night debating. Most people thought they hated each other but they had a really close bound like siblings.

The moral of her life is that she knew best. She knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it and if she didn’t she would find a way. It’s what made her such a determined and born leader. No matter the situation being a group project for English class or a monster fight, the calculations in her head were ready and thought through before leaving her mouth.

And if she ever did yell or scream without thinking, it would only be a millisecond before she had facts to prove her point.

However she didn’t know how much of a loose cannon she would be when it came to her boyfriend. The notorious ex villain RowdyRuff Boy Butch. Aka the most unsuitable man for Blossom Utonium according to every single person's unhelpful opinion.

She remembers when the feelings arose during high school. For some reason he had come to her for help on his mid terms. Of course she was more than happy to help and she wondered if it was because he liked to tease her or to get under his brother's skin. Whatever the case, she happily agreed.

“I love doing charity work.” She said smugly and the dark green eyes looked at her before making her blush from the stare.

“Damn Pink, no need to be harsh.” His voice was light and she was thankful he didn’t see it as a threat. She liked that she could joke with him because if she had said that to Brick, let’s just say another argument would break out.

Weeks passed by as she would spend lunch and after school time with him studying. She didn’t know when he looked so peaceful when doing his homework or how much she truly enjoyed his company. They would go to small cafes or sit in the park with their worksheets spread around them.

There was this small feeling deep within her heart that she hadn’t quite known. She thought she was getting sick or light headed but the pressure built up as she heard him laugh. She left that day and spent the rest of the night quietly staring at the ceiling, her mind for once empty as she didn’t know what to say or do.

It was one of the first moments that she didn’t think through. It was a sudden loose thought and she ran with it. Her heart screamed at her after he came running up to her after fall break to show her that he had gotten high scores on his exams. His smile was breathtaking and she spun her around, flying them into the air before setting them back down. Those few seconds in the sky as he held her close and genuinely laughed made her have a heartfelt thought.

Her feet landed on the ground and she was thankful that they were alone because while he was rambling on and on about how she helped him, she wrapped her fingers around the strings of his hoodie and pulled him close before crashing her lips against his.

He wasted no time kissing her back. His lips were unbelievably soft and she had kissed others before but for some reason, this felt right. Her clouded judgement of whether she should have done this or not washed away when they pulled apart and he stared at her with wide eyes and an even wide smirk.

“I’m proud of you Butch.” Her fingers were still around his hoodie but he made no intention to move out of her grasp. “In fact you can thank me by taking me out on Saturday.”

To say they were both surprised was an understatement. His smirk somehow got bigger and she swore that she picked up on the blush on his cheeks and there was no doubt that her face was matching his.

He said nothing but continued to stare and she suddenly felt like she read all the signs wrong. Maybe the shoulder touches and the knees touches weren’t what she thought. Maybe the light flirting and the teasing was just that, a joke. Maybe, oh her head was now racing. She knew better than to run all the options and pros and cons of each situation.

She had a hand on her waist before she was pulled closed. Her hands now flat against his chest, she didn’t even know she had looked away from him.

“You’re cute when you think too much.” So he saw those gears always turning in her head. The concentration on her face was mostly present throughout the day, the inner superhero in her. “Saturday it is Pink.” He whispered and she closed her eyes as his lips fell on hers again. Her mind now at ease.

The moment the world heard about their dating, which started in high school mind you, the news exploded. Time after time they asked why she didn’t date her counterpart and time and time again she would say “Because I don’t want to”. Which was true. There was no spark between them like that. Brick had taken eyes for the joy and the laughter sister while Boomer was busy swooning over the toughest fighter, she was happy for them. Everyone was happy for those pairs.

But Butch and Blossom received the most criticism. They understood the dynamic between the scary bad boy and the sweetest girl to walk the earth and the relationship between the best damn sports girl and the best damn musician. The dynamic of the perfectionist and the far from perfect was not everyone's cup of tea.

At first she was annoyed. She would shoot reporters cold glares and say that her personal life was her business only. She never let Butch know how much it hurt her when people would talk down about them together. She would always be chipper around him and make sure that he always felt loved by her, she would hate to make him feel bad because of what stupid reporters would say.

Luckily for Butch he genuinely couldn’t care less what the press thought. He spent his entire life being hounded down for his behavior and has taught himself to let things just roll off his shoulders, he had super powers, what did they have? Nothing.

And although he could let things slide, he saw it in her eyes one day when they were hanging out. The nice summer's day was interrupted by an attack from a brutal monster. The girls saved the day as usual and as she landed and went to talk to the police, an interview got in her way. The man said something about her being better than her boyfriend and how she could allow herself to date someone who was a villain. It wasn’t even the worst comment she had received, but her body ached and all she wanted to do was curl up into her bed and cry.

Without thinking she turned and used her ice breath, freezing his camera and making it shatter to the ground.

“I think they are the cutest.” Bubbles said behind her and she was thankful that her sisters supported her. They were all in the same boat after all.

Buttercup passed the guy too and shot a glare. “That’s my counterpart so saying shit like that is insulting to me buddy.” The man began shaking as the threat came from her. Buttercup never liked to use the ‘counterpart term’ but she would if it meant defending her sister and her best friend.

Her sisters saw that strong exterior crumble. They have had their fair share of comments but watching Blossom slightly shake and bite her quivering lip as she flew home made them both sad. Bubbles wrapped her arms around her and Buttercup kissed the top of her head while texting the green eyed boy to call his girl.

She almost didn’t pick up the phone when he called. But eventually he got her to sit on the edge of an abandoned building's roof, one of their many secret spots. He sat next to her, arm over her shoulder as he held her. Her tears came as a surprise and he let her use his shirt to soak up her pain.

“It isn’t fair.” She whispered as she held his hand.

“I know.” he kissed her head.

“It's okay if you’re done.” She cried. “I understand.” She began to move away from him. Ashamed that she had let all these people say these terrible things about him. It wasn’t fair and he deserved better. They had only been dating for about two months, she would be okay.

It's happened before. All her past relationships had left because they couldn’t take the heat and she would try to tell them that it wouldn’t matter, because it didn’t. But for this one, it hurt. She wanted to be able to say that she wasn’t affected by the press, she wasn’t before so why now? She had become numb to paparazzi in the past but every since they practically hounded Butch every chance they got, she was afraid.

She was frightened to acknowledge that it was all wrong. Before accepting any of her other boyfriends, she had a day or two to think about it. How would they act? What would dates be? All those things played over and over in that massive mind space but this was completely blind. She had stopped thinking around him, not literally but in the means that she didn’t have to and she liked that.

But she was now looking at the consequence of it all. Butch, who has done so much to clean up his reputation with his brothers and become civilized as much as possible, he still would fight with BC constantly but there was nothing she could do about that. He deserves someone better. Someone who wasn’t stuck up and held their head too high for anyone to touch her crown, not that she believed she did that but that's what the rumors said. Bossy Blossy as they say.

It wasn’t fair to make him suffer. Not when his brothers got off easy. Brick was somehow adored by the press when he did something so little as smile at Bubbles and Boomer was the golden boy as he opened doors for Buttercup. But Butch, no. When the cameras captured them together, Blossom was always laughing and yet, they still said he was no match.

So when he grabbed her arm gently and pulled her to his chest. She was surprised when she felt the tears drip onto her shoulders. She looked into those green eyes she grew so fond of, they were a great color, and saw them brimming with matching tears.

That was something she adored about him. He was naturally so tough and rough and felt the most confident with dirt caked on his face and blood dripping from the scraps. And then there was this side. The delicate and softness that no one thought he could have. The way he touched her and talked, he was always so sweet with her.

“Blossom.” He rarely used her name. It was always pet names and endearments but when he did use her name it was for the sake of love and pain, almost like he had to save it for a special occasion. “You may not believe me but I do not give a single fuck about what those nobody's say.”

She sniffed as his thumb caught one of her tears. “Really?” Her voice was trying to regain its strength.

“Yes. Why would I? They say I don’t deserve you and sure I felt that way too, but then I remembered something.” He laughed a little which made her smile.

“What?” She sniffled.

“I remembered that I was dating Blossom Utonium. The girl who thinks everything through before diving in. She never once goes back on her promises and is so incredibly smart that she could do anything she sets her mind too. That's why I don’t worry because if you decided that I am worthy of dating you, then why would those people mean anything? You are already enough and every time I get to kiss you, for fucks sake Pink, it all washes away. So let them say shit because I have all the proof I need.”

“You always know what you want Butch. That's what I admire about you.”

“So do you. Maybe sometimes you just need to stop and smell the roses.”

“How sweet.” She kissed his cheek which was now fully dried of tears.

“Only for you Pink.”

As years passed Blossom learned how to bite her tongue more. He taught her to not give, as he said, a single fuck and no one dared to talk about them unless it was with praise. Blossom really did try but a Reds ' patience could only go so far. Whenever someone insulted Bubbles, her husband would not hesitate to snap on them, she understood completely. Maybe that's why having a boyfriend who was cool and calm and just went with the flow was perfect. She could get fired up and he would simply cool her down.

On the flip side, once you made a green mad, it was over and she knew better than to try and stop him. She may have enjoyed watching her boyfriend and sister beat the shit outta nasty reporters a little too much.

She could only take so much and today was proving it.

She was a lawyer and even though her office was filled with highly educated people, she was stuck in the back corner with three other girls who were only there as personal assistants. Then again she was only here temporarily due to her private office being constructed upstairs. Yes, she was that good.

She couldn’t wait to have her own space. It would be nice to have a quiet place to work and if there was an emergency involving robots or monsters, her office had the perfect balcony to fly from so that she wouldn’t disturb her coworkers. But she hated being in that corner.

In the last hour as she was finishing filing all of her neatly done paperwork, the conversation went from lip injections, the new outlet shops, the hottest men in really expensive underwear and now the topic of the ever so light gender bias was upon these ladies.

“Did you see what happened with the actress from the giant squid film?” Haley said. “She got engaged and she was the one to propose to him.” The other two girls gasped as they fixed their nails.

“I just don’t think that women should be allowed to ask her boyfriend to marry her. A man should propose.” The uptight blonde, Peggy said.

“Absolutely not.” Gertrude said. “What do you think Blossom?” All eyes were now on her and she rolled her own before turning in her chair. She felt a headache coming on.

“I don’t see the problem.” She simply stated as she filed another paper neatly. “Good for them.”

“You don’t think it's wrong?”

“Nope.” She didn’t have time for this; she was trying to find her stapler.

All eyes turned to her as the other women who shared the space scoffed. “I highly doubt that your boyfriend would let you.” Gertrude said. Where was it?

Blossom’s left eye twitched and now she turned in her chair to see their faces. “My boyfriend?” She asked with a scolding tone. Fuck the stapler.

“Butch?” Haley scoffed. “Oh he is too prideful to let even Blossom propose. I mean face it Blossom, you are this big successful woman who saves the world and is crazy smart. All he does is listen to your commands. You already wear the pants in the relationship so you should agree that he should be able to make at least this decision.”

The sound of Blossom slamming her filing cabinet echoed through the office. If her man taught her one thing, it was to let the comments slide, but this, this was unacceptable. She had been through the tabloids, the paparazzi and her own “friends” questioning the integrity and well being of Butch. If he could see her rage boiling, he would have told them to “fuck off” and wrap his arm around her shoulder before they went and got smoothies.

But he wasn’t here. She didn’t need him here to defend herself. She let that lid that was secured on her anger to screw loose and fly off. These women could criticize her all they wanted, but not her boyfriend, she wouldn’t allow it.

“My boyfriend is a successful teacher. So he may not have the same degrees as me but he loves teaching his students and also fights to save this city and your sorry asses.”

She turned to them before grabbing her purse. Her stare was as ice cold as the power that trembled in her blood. She never used her power as intimidation against people around her but the way her palms sparked with a hot pink temper, made the ladies shut their lips.

“Before you dare say anything about him, just know one thing. He has done more things in his life than you will ever. He may not be passionate about the same things as me but that does not make him any less of a man or any worthy of dating me. If you are going to slander his name, do it when I am not here because if you saw how much he cares about me, you would be begging to be the one dating him. He is capable of doing whatever he pleases and unlike your failed excuse of a boyfriend Gertrude, his masculinity wouldn’t crumble if I were to ask him to marry me.”

The women were speechless as she turned and watched her walk away.

Blossom could bite her tongue. She could be professional. She could be the perfect everything nice and fake a smile if needed. But she would and always be Butch’s biggest cheerleader. She was proud of him beyond belief when he got his bachelors in forensics science. He went on to help police officers in the labs and two years later got his teaching credentials and taught students about the mess of a murder scene. He loved it. And she loved how happy he was.

So yes, Blossom could bite her tongue, but she could smack a bitch too. Princess Morbucks knew that first hand and had stopped commenting on her relationship.

He heard the door slam with a loud shut and was thankful that he had installed those heavy duty door frames. The amount of heat literally sparking from her body was almost threatening to say the least as she set her bag on the table and he threw one of the glass figures they had on the coffee table into the air and she blasted it with a powerful force from her palm.

He grabbed the small vacuum cleaner and grabbed the glass to make sure it didn’t stay there long. It was a nice routine they had. Get angry, break a glass figure and then drink wine. It worked to say the least.

“Rough day babe?” He asked before setting the vacuum down and walking to their wine cabinet and pulling out two glasses.

She was pacing in the kitchen. That was his sign of knowing that she was about to say something he was going to disagree with or love. He was hoping it was love because watching her all fired up made him slightly tingly and there was nothing better than seeing his lady in control.

She didn’t look at the wine glass placed in front of her. Instead she kept pacing back and forth and he sat on the bar stool and watched. He knew better than to interfere with her thoughts. If she couldn’t think it through, then there was no point. The only time she didn’t run through things is when she kissed him that high school day, he loved that day.

“Blossy?” He asked a minute later and she stopped and looked at him.

Her eyebrows were knit together and she held this look of uncertainty in her eyes, a rare scene. Those vibrant pink iris sparkled as the sunset came through the window. He wanted to say something coy but he also knew when to bite his tongue, she taught him that.

“Would you be threatened if a woman proposed?” She asked.

He was taken back from the question. His shoulders now tensed up but he dropped them quickly as he thought about it. He took a swig of his wine glass and shrugged. “I thought a man was supposed to do that?”

She bit her lip before sighing and grabbing her glass. He thought again for a moment before talking again. “But then again, what's the big deal? I mean if you love them, then it shouldn’t matter who asks.”

She nodded. “I agree.” Her shoulders visibly untensed and she leaned her elbows on the counter before rubbing her head.

“Is that what's bothering you?” He asked before filling her empty glass.

“It's just-” She took a sip. “The stupid women at the office. They said that a man should never allow a woman to be in control of that. That made me angry but then they said you would never let that happen. That I am always in control of you and you should be allowed to make at least that decision.” She felt a chill go through her body as she avoided his gaze. “You don’t think I am controlling, right?”

He made a combination of a snort scoff thing and just rolled his eyes at the statement. “No, you are a leader, Brick is controlling.” She rolled her eyes. “That's a fact.” He pointed out.

“It's just sometimes-” He saw that look in her eyes and interrupted her.

“No, no, no. Don’t do that.” He stood. “Don’t let those nasty hoes have that power over you. So you might have more degrees than me, big whoop. But I’m not some helpless guy who clings onto the success of his girlfriend, that's Boomer’s job.” She ignored the jab at his brother.

“But do you-”

“Blossom.” He came around and lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. “I am so incredibly happy so please don’t worry. Plus.” He stepped closer to her and pulled her close. “When have I ever been one to complain about being controlled by you?” His eyes narrowed and she blushed. “I think it’s hot.” She slapped his arm playfully and buried her face in his chest.

“Those women are dumb.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

“Yeah they are. Now have some wine, I’ll be right back.” He left her as he walked into their shared bedroom.

She took a seat at the high counter and grabbed her glass. She popped open the cork and tried to calm down. It wasn’t fair. Neither of them had the upper hand in the relationship. It was never about sizing up the other one, it was equal. Maybe in certain cases she got her way and he got his and maybe, just maybe, she knew how to persuade him. It wasn’t hard considering she could grab his attention with just the removal of her shirt, but that's besides the point.

She grabbed her glass again and chugged. What did those women know anyways? Nothing, that's what.

He came back a few minutes later and sat next to her. Their knees touched as he grabbed his own glass.

“Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating?” He asked.

She raised her brow. “That you wanted to see what was under my skirt?”

His face flushed red as he almost choked on his wine. “No-no.”

“Really because when I asked you out you said and I quote.” She puffed out her chest. “Damn Pinky, I’d be more than happy to be your man because I’ve been dying to see those legs and what's under that skirt.” She said in a deep mocking voice.

“That wasn’t what I said the day you asked me out though”

She giggled. “Maybe, but you said that on our first date.”

“And you let me see.” He said in a cocky tone and she pursed her lips and looked to the side.

“Touche”

He let out a laugh. “But that's not what I meant.” She looked at him and crocked her head to the side.

“Then what?”

“I told you that if you decided that you loved me, that was all the proof I ever needed.”

That small laugh that bubbled from her lips made him smile. She looked at him before nodding her head.

“And not to care what anyone thinks.” she finished and he nodded before leaning over and kissing her forehead.

“Exactly.” He smirked before plopping something down on the counter. She looked towards it with confusion before he pushed it her way. “Go on, open it.”

She took the item in her hands. A soft plush box with a simple golden latch. She knew what it was instantly. Sure they had talked about marriage, they have been together for so long that some people just assumed they had secretly gotten married. They once spent a weekend in Vegas and drunk Blossom said that the 24 hour chapel was just across the street.

She’s thankful that slightly less drunk Butch carried her to the hotel room instead. Marriage has been talked about in serious times and not so serious but at the end of the day, it was something they both wanted.

The top opened and she stared at the giant diamond ring. It’s sharp fragments sparkled in the light and she felt a tug in her throat. “Butch.”

“You care so much what people think, don’t give me that look. I’m right and you know it.” He stated and she continued to look at the precious stone set on a silver band. “But I also know that you love proving people wrong and challenging the odds.”

“I don’t understand.”

The box was set down and her hands were now in his. “When you are ready, I want you to ask me to marry you.” He said simply.

Tears came from her eyes as she looked between him and the ring. “But-”

“But what? It doesn’t matter who asks who. I love you so fucking much that I would be an honor to be asked by you. Imagine turning down the hottest, smartest and bravest woman in the universe. I could never.” he winked.

Her head turned towards the ring and he could see the gears in her head turning. He waited for her answer and was curious about how she would react. He loved that about her. She was constantly full of surprises even when planning it all out.

He grabbed the box and held it to her. “Or if you would like, I would love to ask you to marry me.”

She took the box from him hesitantly. It was a rare sight to see her so unsure of herself. She placed it onto the counter before sliding into his lap and hugging him. “Thank you.” She whispered and his arms came around and tightened around her. “I love you too.”

“Of course Bloss.” He kissed her softly. He stood after they pulled apart and lifted her up with ease. “Now I’m going to show you who's in control.” He whispered into her ear as she let out a giggle.

——

It was a few months later before it happened. She suggested a day trip to anywhere he wanted and she remembered how excited he was about the new beach opening. The warm sun of their skins as they walked down the boardwalk and enjoyed the simple company of each other. It was perfect.

They sat on the beach, the wild crowds had fizzled out leaving them in a quiet bliss as the sunset that was a mix of pinks and oranges sat on the horizon.

She turned towards him and smiled at him. She reached into her bag and he laughed a little.

“Proposal on a beach with a magical sunset? Little cliche even for you.” She only rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Perhaps.” She moved until she was kneeling next to him and placed a box in his hand. She ushered him to open it and it was the same diamond ring set on a silver band, the one he gave her.

“Or maybe it’s a rejection.” He forced out a laugh as her eyes widened in horror.

“No!” She quickly made him get rid of the thought. Instead she held out her own matching box.

The latch popped open and inside was a silver wedding band.

“You told me that you would love for me to ask you, but I’ve always wanted you to ask me. And I thought about it for a long time and instead of it being one of us.” She grabbed his hand. “Why not both of us?”

“So we both propose?” He looked at the pair of rings and back up to her. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“Alright then.” She bit her lip. Why was she so nervous? It was Butch after all, they had been together for over seven years. She wanted it to be perfect. This moment to be captured just like the movies.

She felt a hand go on her leg and she was pulled out of her trace of thinking. He sat smiling at her and she felt a little embarrassed at how she always got lost in her head.

“Why don’t I start?” He said and she nodded. “Well my love. I spent most of my life thinking no one would ever give a damn about me and when i met you, well it was true since i did try to kill you.” He laughed and she only shook her head with a giggle. “I'm not good with words and you know that so bare with me babe.”

“Anyways when I grew up and got my act together, there was always this blinding light around you. My attention was your the moment I saw you again in middle school. I was always you but I couldn't approach you. I wasn’t worthy of loving you until I became someone I wanted to be. I was so nervous asking you for help that day. Brick told me not to bother but your smile, that damn smile Pink, you were so kind and I just wanted to kiss you right then and there.” He smiled.

“But you know all that.” He huffed. “Ya know people always asked me what my favorite thing about you was. I mean how do you answer that? How do you tell them that everything from her selflessness and bold personality, down to her eyes and her freckles that only show during summer. You can’t. Blossom, you believed in me when no one else did, not even myself and that what i love about you. You never give up and you make people feel safe and cherish. Plus you are so incredibly hot that I could just take you here right now and-you aren't stopping me? You usually stop me when I’m about to say something nasty.”

“It's a special occasion.” She shrugged. “But yeah tell me later.” She winked and he took her hand.

“What I'm trying to say, Blossom, is that I love you. Every up and down is going to have me next to you without hesitation. So Dr.Blossom Utonium.” She smirked at the use of her title. “Would you give me the chance to become the hottest wife the world has seen and allow me to love you for as long as I breath?”

He watched as tears formed in her eyes. “The hottest wife in the world?” She cried-laughed and he wiggled the ring.

“The hottest.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” She kissed him and he placed the ring on her finger.

She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, trying not to ruin her makeup. “Okay my turn.” She grabbed the ring.

“I always know what to do or say but when it comes to you, im left speechless every time. Sometimes I feel like I never know the answer or I'm somehow wrong but if there is one thing I am certain about every single time it's you. My heart guides me without fail and it has always ended up in your hands. Time after time as my sisters were talking about marriage as kids, mostly Bubbles of course.”

“Of course.” He chimed in.

“I wouldn’t add much to the conversation. To be honest, I never thought I would get married, or that anyone would love me. Because no matter who I dated, I was always Blossom. Leader of the Powerpuff Girls and the stuck up smarty pants.” She stopped before taking his hand. “And then I remember when you asked me to tutor you. Those feelings I thought I would never experience happened. You never saw me as the leader, maybe in theory but I was an equal to you and I think that's why it hurt so much when people talked bad about you.” She frowned before sniffing and looking up towards the sky.

“I was already so in love with you as a teen and I didn’t know how people wouldn't adore you that it made me mad. All I ever wanted was for someone to see me as me, and you do.” Her eyes came back down and he was crying. “So Butch Jojo. Will you marry me?” She smiled.

There was no hiding the tears as he held her hand and was practically shaking. “I love you so much Blossom, I can’t even tell you.” He hugged her tightly before kissing her breathlessly. Her own eyes shutting as tears fell and she threw her arms around him and her fingers threaded through his hair. “Yes of course I’ll marry you.” The words were lost on her lips.

The sunset behind them stared at each other and basked in the bliss of being in love. Anyone could say what they want, but there was no denying that the pair loved each other beyond belief.

Blossom could bite her tongue, but she would never stop herself from telling Butch how much she loved him. That was something she could count on.

I hope you enjoyed it!!

#ppg x rrb #powerpuff girls #blossutch #blossom x butch #ppg fanfic #thewritingstar #idk how to tag #ppg #rrb

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psalloacappella · 4 years

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Sirens - Ch 4

Title: Sirens Pairing: SasuSaku obv Chapter: IV / Ao3 | FF Additional Details: AU verse; Sakura isn’t here to be saved, but she also has a lot of secrets; Sasuke has daddy issues; always hot mess express

“I assumed you would be picking me up from a station one day,” he says. Hates himself for the heat in his face that seems to crop up only in conversation with her.

With a wry smile, she responds, “So we’re both very lucky little delinquents.”

On the 28th day after they’ve met, she calls him from a police station.

On an unassuming Friday evening in which the bar is quite busy and all three of them are running ragged — well, Shikamaru is in the back office plodding through routine tasks even though Sasuke bestows his signature, smoldering, get your smoking lazy ass in the front look, pointed and serious, which does nothing to ward off the women lingering and coiling like clingy plant tendrils, hoping for a second of his time. By mere virtue of his pretty face, he’s left to the night wolves.

Naruto, sidetracked and distracted from bartending by a loquacious brunette with hair in two buns and blunt-cut bangs, hears it first.

Completing her drink full of gin as sharp as the flashy knives she’s rolled in with, he places an orange peel in it with a flourish and gives her a nervous, dangling half-smile. Cute, but her hobby is definitely one for someone more adventurous and decidedly not for him. Still, her grin suggests a gentler side and as he slides the cocktail to her, he reflects perhaps it’s something he can overlook.

“Thanks,” she says. “And keep it open; my friends and I just arrived.”

“No problem,” he responds, preparing to move on to the next.

“Ah, one thing . . .” Her eyes, a color in between hazy shades of silver and hazel, beckon him closer. Naruto inclines his head and leans in to hear her against the noise.

“I have to ask, who is he?”

Nods her chin at Sasuke, who hands off the next drink with the most minute, fleeting smile he can bestow, more of a movement of the head than any actual friendliness. There’s always an easy grace about him and frankly, paired with his looks, it’s infuriating to Naruto how a person can be given such tall, dark, and handsome sexuality and miserably fail to wield it.

A quiet chuckle, and he whispers, “A bastard, honestly.”

Interpreting it as a joke, she giggles.

“Seriously, he’s just complicated. You’re welcome to try, though.”

Lifting the cocktail and pinning a napkin to the perspiring glass with her fingernails, she winks and disappears into the crowd.

Naruto then hears what he thought he had before but shook off as his imagination — the ringing of a phone sounding not like the stock default tone of a mobile but the staid ring of importance, belonging to a lawyer’s desk or doctor’s office. Not the one in his pocket, but the one on the wall that hardly ever makes a sound and overall, hasn’t been used in any useful capacity since a month ago.

It rings longer than it should; he wonders if they have voicemail. That’s definitely a Sasuke question. He’s drawn to the unusual event and though he’s unable to put a finger on it, there’s an air of happenstance and fate. Put that way, it sounds like he’s crazy or clairvoyant.

Frowning, he puts up a finger to the next patron crowding the bar and says, “Be right with ya.”

Sasuke of course hears it too, though he’s currently drowning in a deluge of women who likely already have drinks in their hands but are eager to talk to him longer than necessary. If the bland expressions of disinterest, slivers between each interaction, aren’t enough indication, perhaps the kind but firm manner in which he ignores the flirting and lingering touches as they connect to exchange liquor and money is; the inquiries glossed with a breezy veneer but trying to gain a foothold on what he considers inappropriate topics and details. Glaring at Naruto over his shoulder, who’s treating this unanticipated phone call with more solemnity than he’s ever offered anything else in his life, he savagely wishes he had picked it up instead if only to get away.

They meet one another’s eyes. He’s known him long enough that it betrays its importance.

Extricating himself from a woman with blue hair and a sparkling silver chin labret, he leans in close and waits for details. Naruto covers the receiver and says, “It’s her. Your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my—”

“Maybe go to the office. Sounds important.”

A sensation in his gut, dripping dread. “Transfer it,” he says impatiently.

“Ah, I don’t think I— oh!” Naruto puts the phone back to his ear, listening to Sakura speak. Realizing it’s upside-down, he fumbles it. Nodding, he says, “Sure, he’s here. Jus’ let me . . .”

Jabbing a button on it, triumphant, he’s energetic and proud like a puppy as he slaps the phone back onto the wall with gusto. Grins.

A beat. Another.

“You fucking idiot,” he snaps, yanking it back off the wall. Pointing at the correct button, Sasuke’s eyes dance with what looks like the casual threat of homicide. Slams it back so hard his friend flinches. “If you hang up on her again—”

The ring echoes in stark contrast to his fury, and he snatches it up as Naruto opens his mouth. “Yes?”

“Not how your mom taught you to answer a phone,” Naruto whispers, shaking his head. Pivoting to show him an irritated shoulder, it’s the closest equivalent to a fuck off that Sasuke can give in full view of the bar. He strains to hear her over the din.

And then, there she is sounding so close. Echoes of the way her whispers curl and settle in his ear when she slips out of his bed, reverberating in the silent days that follow when she disappears on a schedule all her own, known only to one. Twenty-eight days can caricature a lifetime, a narrative he can clearly see in his mind’s eye, even if she’s weaving in and out of his life and their reality for most of it. It doesn’t bother him so much as long as she returns.

The strain of her lovely voice is noticeable, tensed twine. The way people speak in crowded rooms on terse topics and desperately carve a bubble of personal space for private, intimate words.

“I’m always speaking to you in unconventional ways. Always odd and in the dead of night.” Humor painted over the tightness of her vocal cords and wavering at the end, the tremolo of an instrument approaching repose.

“Are you all right?” Sasuke brings the receiver closer. No sounds from others on her end, just a gloomy quiet and possibly shuffling paper.

“Sure,” she says, laughing a little. A nervous skittering. “I always end up in police stations on my off nights.”

The beat that follows skips, stalls, as if there’s a space ballooning between each begging to be filled.

“Which one? I’m coming.”

“Sasuke—”

“Are you hurt?” The way he asks this is a gentleness defying his usual prickliness, so soft. Enough that Naruto glances at him over his shoulder as he manages the throng, piqued by the whispers.

“No! No, not really. I’m not sure what’s going on. They brought me here and I was sure I’d be arrested—”

“Sakura—”

“—but I don’t think so. No handcuffs, no fingerprinting. But this officer’s definitely not sure what to do with me.”

“Don’t talk to them. Just wait.”

Before she can protest, he hangs up abruptly. To Naruto: “I have to go. She needs help.”

“Is she okay?” Naruto sends another customer off, trying to hide his worried eyes. A mark of the short catalysts required for the fascinating chemistry of bonding, of friendship. She becomes a fixture for two wandering men with the inevitably and grace of astronomic orbits crossing paths.

“Police station,” he mutters.

Sasuke heads for the back office, not seeing Naruto’s eyes wilt even more as he goes.

Whipping open the door, he ignores the fact that Shikamaru was absolutely asleep a moment before all over a scattering of ledgers and rouses him with his classic abrasion. “Get out front. I need to handle something.” To drive home the point, pulls his jacket off the hook and swings it on quickly.

“Ah, right,” Shikamaru rasps, rubbing the indented depressions and ink off his face. “Emergency?”

“Sort of,” Sasuke mumbles. Reaches into his jacket pocket and casts about, in his mind, on who he can ask to dig into a situation that hasn’t yet yielded an arrest.

He always knows someone, though. The curse of the name.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it?”

Sasuke surveys him from the threshold, already aiming to leave. He wonders what he must look like when he thinks of her, when she’s in a room and has her beautiful hands on him, because the expression Shikamaru’s giving him is inscrutable and poignant all in one. She has the uncanny ability to splay his heart as a cadaver, pinned and primed for inspection. And it always feels that everyone understands something beyond him.

“Go,” Shikamaru says. “We’re here too, if you need us.”

He nods in response, and doesn’t bother with the zipper as he jogs down the hall to swing open the back door and depart into the night.

A well-placed phone call later, he’s at the police station front desk in an unfamiliar trendy neighborhood, asking after a girl with pink hair whose last name he doesn’t have.

“Pink, you said?” An austere expression creeps into the desk manager’s brows, sinks into her jowls; sharpness in her eyes. Clearly regarding him, and this, as ludicrous.

“Probably fake,” he volunteers. “She was brought in a couple hours ago.”

“‘Probably fake,’” the woman echoes, setting down her pen.

Anxiety flits about in his chest, a moth stuck in a dangerous, fated tryst with lamplight.

A door opens to the right of the front desk and an officer leans over the threshold. Serious and composed in contrast, badges gleaming. “Uchiha Sasuke?”

“Yes.” It’s a reflex, something about the way he speaks reminding him of another imposing, authoritarian presence that still lingers at the edge of his nightmares. Never quite sure if he’s relieved or regretful that he’s gone. Growing up, everything was suffused with it, the power and the name.

“She’s back here. Oh, he’s with me, no need for that,” he says to the woman. Waves a hand, blithe, sweeping away the very notion of procedure.

Sasuke follows him down a hallway expecting to be taken to holding cells, and the creeping familiar feeling settles into his shoulders. Instead, the officer sighs, yawns. They stop outside of a closed office door.

“Listen, this Sakura, your girlfriend? She’s fine. I’m apt to believe what happened, but the scene got — well, it was disorderly, let’s say that. We talked a little and the little lady she was defending is with her, too. Once she mentioned your name, well,” and here he puts what’s intended as a fatherly hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, who glances at it surreptitiously, “I knew and respected your father. Head of your family, very helpful to us over the years.”

Unable to express the fleeting, frenzied analysis that takes place as he’s speaking, the myriad implications, defending someone, little lady, girlfriend, my father, helpful, and the swift undercurrent of distaste at the remembrance of his family name, how his father was a pillar rather than any sort of parent or individual, and how reputation always came first: Sasuke nods a few times and swallows everything he wants to say, instead responding, “I . . . appreciate this.”

Nodding once, satisfied presumably at staying in a dead man’s good graces by way of assisting his son, he smiles broadly. Such a contrast to the way his father ever did, who perpetually seemed sour. Still, many men can commandeer space whether with a jovial smile or the most straightforward intimidation.

They both startle as the door clicks open: Sakura in the left chair and a woman with long, luscious dark hair on the right. They exist as another illustration of contrasts — hair colors on opposite sides of spectrums saturating the drab, taupe-beige space, one’s eyes green and sharp and the other’s, soft and mottled, cream.

There’s a spark of recognition when he glances at the unknown girl, a feminine personage and assumed offspring of a family he’s met before, perhaps as a child. Now though, nothing resonates. Instead he watches Sakura, who tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear and meets his eyes, lips tugging into a smile despite the circumstances.

Does she know she could get away with anything with a face like that? Sasuke’s heart skips uncomfortably, the sensation of missing a step in some stairs.

When she sits up from the chair and sways, it’s the other woman who catches her first. By the forearm, and with a butterfly-delicate touch.

“Hah, I forgot,” Sakura mutters, more to herself than them. With a weak grin at her companion, she explains, “My ankle.”

“What happened to you?” Sasuke asks. Frowning, he passes the pad of his thumb across her cheek to sweep away what he assumes is cosmetic. It smears and fades but stubbornly stays.

And he knows that color more than he’s ever wanted to.

Sakura winces. “You should see the other guy.”

“I can explain,” the officer offers. Taking a seat behind his desk with another dismal yawn, Sasuke stands behind Sakura’s chair. Heat dashes across the back of his neck in irritation, confusion; she uses his arm as leverage to lower herself into the chair, intensifying the cloying atmosphere. The other woman keeps her head down, bowed. A familiar gesture.

“The ladies here were at a popular lounge downtown, separately. From their statements, they arrived at different times and did not know one another before tonight.” Pausing, his eyes sweep between the two, offering space for contradiction or comment. He continues. “Neither were unreasonably intoxicated. Over the course of the night, miss Hyuuga here,” and that name sparks something in Sasuke’s mind, neurons seeking details, “was dealing with the unwanted attentions of an intoxicated young man. At some point, miss . . . oh, the ink is smudged. Sakura, here, approached her,” here he flips an upturned palm to indicate her —

“Hinata,” she says quietly, inclining her head to Sasuke.

“— concerned for her well-being around this man. He apparently had friends as well, and the situation escalated to alleged harassment. Heated words were exchanged, bystanders becoming involved, and unfortunately it progressed to this man grabbing miss Hyuuga, and, well—”

“He received a face full of gimlet,” Sakura interrupts, folding her arms. “And then my fist.”

“You punched him?” Sharp, inquiring, but bewildered.

“No, with a palm to the nose. I didn’t want a broken hand.”

Sasuke’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The officer winces and glances at Sasuke, under the assumption perhaps that he’s already aware of her tart retorts and lives lovingly with them.

There’s a pause, and Hinata yearns to fill the gap. “If she hadn’t been there to intervene, I don’t know how it would have gone. I truly, really appreciate what she did, even if it was, ah, unorthodox?” She smiles at Sakura, then the officer, and finally Sasuke. “Her form is quite good,” she adds, blushing furiously.

“Look, I don’t think we’re in the business of charging anyone tonight.” The officer has both palms up now in a show of calm.

“I asked you before, I’m not sure why you’re just letting me go,” Sakura says, sounding accusing. Folds her arms across her chest. “I understand why I’m here. I don’t know if that’s right, for nothing to be written up.”

“There’s much to be said for defense.” The tiniest air of condescending patience, a parent refusing to elaborate for a child. Redirecting his attention, he says to Hinata, “Your father will be here soon.”

The way Hinata bows her head again, bent as grass in the wind as if ready to bear difficulty, resonates with Sasuke deeply. A father whose existence was imposing and a relationship fraught with the inability to measure up.

Sakura pulls her phone out of her shimmering shirt with two fingers, plucking it from the magical ether with a certain polite grace in front of the men, and hands it to the woman next to her. Blushing, Hinata fumbles with the latch on a small clutch in her haste to exchange numbers.

Upon finishing, Sakura asks if there’s anything for her to sign.

“No no,” he says, again with that wave. A brushing away of rules and regulations by the mere implication of his authority. “Let your boyfriend take you home, rest that ankle.”

Pink eyebrows could brush the ceiling with how high they rise; Hinata steals a glance but doesn’t make a sound. As if relenting to the chain of events, the circumstances weaving far from the controlled loom of her own hands, Sakura’s shoulders sag and accepting Sasuke’s arm plays out as the next movement in a piece of music, an obvious outcome.

They stand apart on the sidewalk: Him in all black from the work he hastily left, her in a shimmering shirt, barefoot, sandals in her hand. The bruised knot on her ankle matches the navy of her skirt. For a few moments, they don’t speak.

She doesn’t cry, doesn’t unravel, simply stands on the chilled sidewalk and idly swings her fingers with the sandal straps woven in them in time to an unheard rhythm. Noticing her shivering, his coat becomes hers once more, draped over her shoulders and covering the spatters of red and an abundance of glitter inherited from the lounge that will take days to erase, months to lose in the fibers of his carpet.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says softly. “Got me off the hook.”

“I didn’t.”

A noise of disbelief, settling in the throat. Constrained.

“He said he knew and respected my father. That happens often.”

Musing on this, she turns and raises her eyes to his. “It must be interesting, to have people grant that to you wherever you go.”

She’s quite short without her shoes. Wilting and exhausted, withdrawing in a way that could leave her as mere wisps as clouds on a cold night.. Even in this tension and the aftermath of another surreal chapter in a chaotic narrative, the urge to sweep glitter off her cheeks and lift her, carrying her off to another planet, is strong and vivid.

“I assumed you would be picking me up from a station one day,” he says. Hates himself for the heat in his face that seems to crop up only in conversation with her.

With a wry smile, she responds, “So we’re both very lucky little delinquents.”

But her face falls, humor dissipating. When she falls against him, only then do her fears take shape between them. “This is why I leave.” Arms around him and fingers in the fabric of his shirt to stay upright. “Because strange things always happen and it always feels like I can’t stop any of it. Like fate.”

Taking on her weight, his fingers find strands of her hair dancing aloft from the wind; they slip through like silk. When he speaks, it’s a quiet murmur. “Sounds like that girl needed your help.”

“Both of them made it sound much more noble than it was.”

Untangling from him, she passes the back of her hand over her eyes, green and glimmering even in the wan, washed out glow of streetlights. Continues, letting weight off her bruised ankle. “The truth is, I was dancing and tipsy and full of false bravado, and spoiling for a fight. He just happened to trip into my orbit, stupidly bothering someone in front of me. The perfect storm of circumstances.”

Following the movements of her lips, an ache radiating in his chest; how can she tell him not to fall in love with her?

“Isn’t that everything?”

His words seem to take the wind out of her sails. Breath stolen, strength gone. She concedes his point with a small smile and nothing more.

Wincing as she readjusts her weight, he’s about to tell her he’ll find a car when she steps forward to the curb, albeit wobbly, and firmly thrusts an arm out, reaching into the blank night. Leaving him always wondering on her earthly origins as she summons one from the dead street with the enchantment of nothing other than her will.

They fall in against the seats, drunk on nothing but novelty.

As she pulls him close by his lapels and dips her tongue into his mouth

— skin humming and warm, as if she’s still moving and undulating underneath hot lounge lights; music in her bones, the echoes of beats hours before; a tang of tartness and botanics, the tastes on her lips that she shares with his; the sharp inhale that tumbles out when she pulls away and nips his bottom lip —

he’s apt to wonder which cabs they haven’t kissed in yet.

Damp locks fanned beneath her head, pink waves splayed wide as if dropped from above with the luck to land and lie tenderly in a field, cradled by earth. But it’s just her on the couch, chin crushed to her chest and face partially obscured, half of it pressed into the cushion as if burrowing for sleep.

“So I know I’ve asked you for enough already.”

It’s a tentative beginning, leaving a question unasked. Sasuke moves his thumb in light and repetitive movements against her ankle, skimming the fabric of the wrapping. She opens one jade eye, brilliant even in the twilight. He makes some noise of assent, and she continues.

“I have this work event,” she says. “It’s stupid, really, but I think it’s somewhat of a formal thing. I tried to get out of it, I did, but one evening the owner of the company — the actual company, not the manager of our subsidiary media branch or whatever — was around listening to my show and he spoke to me afterward.” She frowns, the expression of a sour conversation in her mind. “Anyway, he strongly implied it was an event that you wear something nice, and bring someone with. All above my usual social standing.

She pauses to blow a strand of hair from her face, then looks askance, eyes concentrating hard on the cushion.

“I need someone who’s good at these things. Navigating events like this, all those important people with wealth and to know what they’re actually saying, not just what comes out of their mouths.”

Her meaning is plain: Who better than you?

Not speaking just yet, he instead places a hand on her thigh; hours later her skin still hums, pliant and warm and dashed with glitter missed from her wash.

She shifts beneath his touch, nudging his fingers in an unconscious request. Staring at him fully with open eyes which survey each atom of his face in incisive and keen patterns, memorizing. The sensation, again, of the precipice and the twinge in his stomach and swift wind in his ears, obscuring hearing, drowning out any rational thought. Testing the notion, his hand skims the hem of her skirt; the tug of her lips which stifles a sharp inhale isn’t enough to go on, but the way her eyes brighten as he maneuvers her body easily, considerately, and he’s feeling like the desired target at the barrel end of a poised rifle —

she, eager and him, obsessed.

She trembles like aftershocks — hips caged in by his arms and his handsome chin so close and the fleeting thought of yanking him by his beautiful dark hair and making a mess of that gorgeous face is only to be postponed for another thirty seconds, maybe.

“So,” she exhales, “Will you be my date?”

He responds simply, “Yes.”

An amused smile on her face, eyes alight. “Sometimes, you’re a man of few words.”

Shifting again, her hips sinking into a softer dip in the cushion with a little satisfied sigh. Prompting him to continue the charged venture between her thighs, where his fingers from before are replaced by his lips and the catch of air in her throat is enough to rouse him. Vulnerable things, stupid things, rise to his lips and he swallows them whole, and she senses them; he’s defenseless enough to cough them into her waiting, shaking hands. Instead he whispers against the hot skin of her thigh:

“Do you trust me?”

Sakura reflects it’s a trite question to ask, much less to answer, with him between her legs. Fingers plucking at the edge of her skirt, she says, “Yes.”

And the rest is a whisper lost in her gasp, because despite her caution she’s a failure at any rational thought like this, so dizzy and losing the concept of what’s real and what’s bliss, and it’s possible it was never voiced at all.

But only just.

Bringing him to life with her soft hands on each side of his face and the fruity scent of her shampoo, she whispers, “I’m starving.”

On the floor, both sprawled out on his luxuriant living room rug, verdant like lush jungle and comfortable enough to serve as the night’s chaise. Neither’s slept for much time, the sun’s aurora crowning the horizon with a prophetic red crescent. Again, waking up next to her has the unmooring sensation of devastation and they’re scattered as debris.

They pull the previous night together in languid movements: Refolding blankets, resetting pillows. Quick face rinses. She limps around on her own despite his quiet protests, intent on breakfast — food this time.

“I’m okay,” she laughs, running her hands over counters and underneath couch cushions. Likely her phone.

Sasuke finds it facedown on the floor, and flips it over. Immediately it lights up and reveals messages upon messages, and as another comes in they flash again, regroup as they hit a limit. Blinding in the dark. All of them from the same number, unsaved, tender and worried and beseeching in a way that doesn’t strike him as a lover and his heart rate falls but the way Naruto has messaged him after disappearing without preamble in a seedy bar or out a back alley, intent on a scuffle with someone to make him feel alive. A best friend who’s rescued another one from numerous poor decisions and choices when they’re feeling low like a layer beneath dirt.

The sound of her nails clicking against the case and scraping his skin startles him as it’s snatched from his hands; it’s a rough motion, jarring. Eyes jejune and dismayed. Emotional whiplash from the previous second as she swallows hard and clutches it to her chest and a sense of an animal cornered.

“Don’t,” she hisses.

“Sakura—”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Are you all right?”

Sliding it into her pocket, she pivots away; he takes her forearm and she shakes him off with the same ferocity with which she usually pulls him close. “Fine.”

“Would you be honest if you weren’t?”

Lips twitching, a response he can see her holding in. Instead, she swings her purse onto her shoulder in a wide arc that keeps him at arm’s length and makes an attempt to limp out the door with her chin high. She’s moving too fast on that sprain and he knows that she knows, pre-med and all, (and from the way she’s discussed it, close to finishing.)

He heads out the front door after her, snatching up his jacket and keys as he goes.

Frustration mounts as she punches the door close button with a loud smack so he has to take the next one. Head spinning at the shift in it all and the horrible weariness that surfaced in her eyes; and everyone has something like that, the trigger to the shutdown and a signal to bar the doors. Taps his foot impatiently at the elevator ride that seems to last for years.

Lobby, out the doors. She’s crossing the street against the lights, and he calls after her.

“Sakura!”

“Leave me alone!”

Bewildered, he plunges forward into the crosswalk—

The screech and hiss and smell of overworked brake pads; at the loud thumping sound Sakura pivots with a small scream mingling with cursing and raised voices—

Sasuke waves the driver’s screaming and his near-fatal experience away with the same annoyance of flicking away an insect, and it seems to bring him to an aggressive and lethal sort of calm. Something in his shoulders and jaw that lifts him, comprises control. And now she’s loath to move, feeling rooted to the spot by his glimmering dark eyes and the aberrant brush with catastrophe that intertwines their souls delicate as lace. Thinking perhaps he can survive even me, knowing as he advances that she could fall into his arms and he would break bones and move the world to remain in her space; he would lay it all at her feet.

Raises a hand to him, reaching as he safely makes it onto the sidewalk—

A thin arm causes her to pull up short, a horizontal barrier swung firmly into her path. Stumbling a little, she follows the long blonde hair with her eyes and drinks in the stance of this woman with her back to her.

Something breaks, a ballpoint hammer to a vulnerable crack in her decrepit heart.

“You better back off!” A voice Sakura knows in every fiber of her being, rattling her bones. Sasuke stops in his tracks at the sight of this blonde woman in his path, and shows his palms in conciliation and confusion.

With a toss of her hair, the woman turns to Sakura and holds her at arm’s length like she’s sprung from the grave, reborn and she’s unable to believe it. Fingering her long hair and her eyes so blue, ocean and skies, beg for recognition. “It’s me. It’s Ino!”

Mouth falling open, Ino takes her lack of response as shock and shakes her head in a rapid motion, back and forth. “Shit, Sakura. I’ve been looking — I found you.” Laughs in a light trailing way, stunned. Voice revealing a lightheadedness, a lovely giddiness.

Without warning she tackles her in a violent hug, the vehement and frenzied embrace of someone whose whole of her soul was lost and then found. Fingers clutching at hair and fabric and then Sakura obliges, relents and their behavior’s the same, scrabbling and wavering voices.

Sasuke watches as Sakura lets her chin rest, heavy and weary, on Ino’s shoulder. The reunification of two who have traveled on significant roads alongside one another, the mortar and brick of what he recognizes as found family.

Tears cutting salty paths down Sakura’s cheeks as Ino says again,

“I found you.”

#sasusaku #sasusakufanfic #AU verse #ssfanfic #psallocappella #psalloacappella:sirens

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riskeith · 3 years

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hi babe, hope you slept well.. ♥️

answering on the phone is just *takes screenshots* *opens tumblr app* *switch between screenshots and answering* do you also put on my messages on the laptop and answering with your phone usually, because that’s what i do lmao sjshdks. thank god for technology.

(I LOVE BEING CALLED BRO.. i believe that i would’ve been a dudebro in another life tbh..) there is? i’m not super immersed in the fandom actually so i had no idea, do you have any examples? ofc only if you wanna talk about it i know these topics can sometimes be annoying to think about. also you’re right! ‘don’t like don’t read’ is the law. follow it. i can’t believe how some people have the nerve to talk about what other people do creatively... yikes

you should if you ever find yourself not knowing what to read! i think their fics were some of my first in the fandom and they set the bar so high hehe. dude i love how oikawa just wants to see kageyama burn it’s so funny..... he’s so cocky about it while kageyama’s just his moody self. speaking of; one of my fave fics of yours is the swapping jerseys one!

WTF 😭 BABY POOLS AND POOL FLOATIES..... razor please come back to us please. sidenote but do you also think that his powers are 5 star level? hes soo powerful it’s so odd how he’s only 4 star haha... or maybe it’s just me being biased.

YEAH! THE SAVING SCENE IS SO AHHHHH. god especially if they have dialogue while person a is hurting and person b just spills all their feelings and becomes so erratic and scared and person a is like holy shit you love me.... and after everything is okay there’s still some awkwardness and tension and aaa.... 💢💔

OOO. sadly the ps5 is always out of stock it’s crazy how fast it sold out. but i mean it makes sense it’s arguably the most popular console so.. hopefully they restock soon. last of us is such a fun game! and the second part is ~gay~ which is always a plus. i’m not sure which memes you mean? tell me 👁 HAHA that makes sense actually omg... lumine and aether reunion won’t happen until like two years if the updates keep coming the way they are (STOP THAT WOULD ACTUALLY BE SO FUNNY.... like hello if you want to unlock the rest of the story you either gacha $pin for it or you imagine it yourself love ♥️😗) talking about this makes me wonder what the other worlds might look like....

your followers are just here to witness us planning our co-op date sjsjdkdjskz. speaking of,,, hehe. i have some fantastic news. i’m at ar level 11 right now and co-op unlocks at level 16... i might just reach that tomorrow (today for you) so i’m just saying hehehehehehehehehehehe.... 😏♥️

BOWL CUT. my cutie little baby. also mullet? sounds nice omg you will probably rock that look... 😳 i’m a non mullet supporter but if cluna has a mullet then call me a yeehaw mullet lover i suppose. can’t believe my wife is a cowboy. OMG YEAH IT MUST FEEL SO NICE your head went bzz bzz. how long did it take for them to accept it? and yeah god ikr some people take hair so seriously which is fair but also i’ve never understood it... like it grows out..? wow you really went from a ballet girl to punk rock style huh. i feel like you’re the both sides of the ‘she was a punk she did ballet’ meme.

memo fic is a jealous fic? mmm smells good. I FIGURED jshdjdkhsjs slow songs are just not your forte, huh? rip. langst is the best yet worst thing ever tbh. and YEAH I DO we’re truly 🤝 ok literally mood sometimes it’s just nice to talk about how much you love a character through another character in a fic yk? so what if this 2k fic contains 1k words about how beautiful oikawa looks? it’s what iwa feels <3 (YOU’RE LEARNING!!!!!!! THATS SO EXCITING!! i guess you just have to drive me around, huh?)

oh i’m in love i’m with that fic my girl. and i knew about that spoiler it’s kind of hard to miss it since it’s everywhere skdhdkdhdk... god, that sounds so good thank you for sharing it. pining iwaizumi hajime >>>>>>>> the air i need to exist 🥺

THE DAY IS SO SOON CLUNA, it’s literally here soooo soon holy shit i just can’t wait. i played for almost 6 hours today in a row like an idiot and now i never wanna see hilichurls again in my life but hey, one step closer to my baby. prepare yourself.. 😏

AWWW i had a feeling you’d be a tea person. but omg tea effects your sleep? how late is too late for you to drink it? what’s your favorite flavors? 👁 and i’m addicted to both shdkdhsks. i say addicted bc i literally have 6 cups of tea per day easily and like.. 1 or 2 coffee cups per day. it’s really bad but i can’t stop so.. 🙇🏽‍♀️

COLLEGE BOYFIES CLUNA. COLLEGE BOYFIES WITH DIP DYE HAIR. imagine them doing each other’s make up and nails before going to concerts together. imagine xiao in euphoria kind of make up. holy shit. here’s something for your overwhelmed heart jsdhjshska. xiaoven soulmates girl, no doubt about it. THE EDIT THE EDIT THE EDIT!!!! they just look so beautiful. we need scenes with them like Asap. the edit is based on a fic... notes down.

can’t wait to see your screenshots. super excited!!

xo, m.a. (i almost wrote my name down in a haste shshskdjdk... although you’ll find it out soon...)

hiya!! i slept alright~ ahaha

:o that’s smart! but no i don’t LOL whether i’m on my phone or my laptop i just continuously scroll up and down fhdskjfkhsdf i think that’s why i come close to missing some paragraphs some times oops. yay for the ~wonders of technology~

(AIGHT NICE AHAHHA fhsdkjfsh does that mean you’re a bit of a tomboy?) actually coincidentally i came across this thread: https://twitter.com/maxatsuomi/status/1350145589296685057 which gives you an idea lmao (also some things on there i wasn’t even aware of wtf) EXACTLY??? it’s even worse when non content creators try to come for content creators like?????????/ um you’re getting all this food for FREE and yet?????? lmfao the nerve of some people

i def will!! FKJSHFDSKJ yeah that do be their dynamic lolol. and thank you!! i too think i snapped on that one 😩😩 glad others agree ahahah

i actually haven’t really seen him in combat... and when we could trial him i was too busy trying to pass the quests to focus on how he fought fhdkfhsdkfjshf but i do think his abilities are cool!! he have wolf above head 🥺

YEAHHH BOYEEEEEEEEEEE god that reminds me of a scene from a drarry fic (What We Pretend We Can't See wink wonk)

oh damn!! hope they restock soon for your sake~ yissss ive watched a playthrough and omg lev.... my Son. i don’t think i can find the memes again but it was just about the bugs like how if you throw a grenade on the highway everyone will run out of their cars like a flashmob or something hfskfhsdjfkds. (LMAOOOOO) there’s actually a trailer with the other worlds! https://youtu.be/TAlKhARUcoY (it has spoilers tho supposedly lol. none we understand rn at least)

hdsfkhjs. omg you absolute legend!!!! but i also hope that you’re taking care of yourself and prioritising the important things too fhsfhdksdhf. but i am excited hehehehehe

AHHAAHKFHDSKJFSD pls... once i saw someone with an actual proper mullet on the bus and i was like “ew... keith would look like this irl?” FJSDHKFSAHKDASHDFSDJFKJFDSHFKJS. but what can i say i got influenced by all the kpop bois 😔 and hmmm idk? i think my dad didn’t care too much but ik my mum did/does fhsfskfsdfhkf so who knows lollllllllllllllllllllllllllllll. IT REALLY DOES GROW OUT LMAO LIKE. fhkshkfsdkj my cousin called me a rockstar when she saw it LOL so you’re prob right 🤪

yeah slow songs really just. aren’t LMAO ‘behind this mask of mine’ was based on a slow bts song and i put it in the playlist i had for it (bc obviously) but i wanted to skip it every time hfksjdhfskjdfhskfdkfhkslfhadksfjsdjhfkashkfjsdh. EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!! you are so correct. (hehehe i was gonna say that too that you don’t need to drive bc it’ll take you around 😏 LMAO)

fhkdsj thank!! legit pining iwa.......... more like pining ME mayhaps i just be self projecting 🤪🤪

lolol dw i can fight the hilichurls for you 😩 also who’s your fave enemy to fight! i used to like fighting the treasure hoarders most but the hilichurls are cute.. FHSKJDHFSDFKJSD plus i need their fucking masks my god why are their drop rates so shit hfsdhjfks

i’m not too sure actually? i’ve never been up early enough to test it but i like drinking tea like after dinner... which is the problem AHAHA. hmm well i like matcha a lot LOL but also chai? and then like black tea.... all the other ones too... i used to drink some fruity ones which were nice but we have a lot of the like basic chinese ones at home too and i enjoy those as well lol. wbu?? omg.... m.a........... dfhksdfkjhfkjshfksjd that’s a lot!!!!!!! do you even need to drink water then HKDSJFHKSDFHDKDSHFJKSDH

omg............. ive never seen euphoria LOL but ............. omg ...................... i cannot process thoughts rn.....

xoxo!! c.r. (you mean bc we’ll be playing co-op? you don’t have to if you’re uncomfy fhdskjf my genshin name was literally ‘aether’ up until yesterday FHDFHSDKFSDFJSHFKSDF)

#marriage anon #wowclunaanswers #long post

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stungtwice · 4 years

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P R I D E E D I T I O N !

questions revised for rp purposes by applesdrowned, feel free to use the questions for your own hcs!

i. what is your muse’s sexuality?

sam is a demi - sexual, panromantic.

ii. what gender does your muse identify as?

cisfemale.

iii. how long have they been aware of their sexuality and / or gender?

sam didn’t ever really have that ‘ aha, i’m demi - sexual ’ moment, she knew that unlike a lot of her friends that she wasn’t as interested in hooking up as some of the other girls, preferred to sit and just connect with the person she’s more romantically interested in. it wasn’t until talking with beth, when they were about eighteen, that she realised that she was demi - sexual, wanting a deep connection with someone romantically before allowing herself to get into a more sexual relationship.

iv. do they have any preferences?

sam has known for a while though that she doesn’t really have a preference romantically for who she is attracted to, it all comes down to who she connects with.

v. share a positive memory of your muse coming out.

when sam came out to josh was probably her favourite memory of coming out, not that she ever really has felt like she has to come out to most of her friends. she usually brushes off the comments about her not wanting to have sex, or how she hasn’t kissed anyone because she just doesn’t want to just kiss anyone. but she was sat up late with josh, sharing a joint and he just asked her about it, kindly, not mockingly or teasingly like emily or jess do, and she just told him that she was demi - sexual and she wanted a connection with someone, that she just didn’t feel that sexual attraction to people till she had that. he was very understanding, joked with her a little bit, but he is always supportive of anything she does.

vi. how do they feel about pride month?

whilst she’s not a huge party person, she really does enjoy pride month and going to the different pride events, she usually is more supportive of beth and helping her out in the different things beth does for pride. she likes seeing all the other lgbtqia+ people talk about their experiences, being able to do some charity work and doing her part to show her pride with her friends.

vii. do they participate in pride related events / any other events?

she’d definitely tries to take part, often helping beth if she was showing off some art or being a dj for a party, and when sam goes to college, she becomes a part of her college’s lgbtqia+ society and has been a part of their pride float, she also helped the dog shelter she works at become more active in helping the lgbtqia+ community.

viii. how does your muse feel about lgbtq+ roles in media?

seeing any part of the lgbtqia+ community shown in the media is really important to sam, she would like to see some more diverse roles shown, with actual lgbtqia+ people playing those roles and if she ever got to see someone who was shown accurately as demi - sexual / asexual and not someone who is broken, not someone who once they have sex that’s all they seem to do, she wants more accurate portrayals with actual lgbtqia+ people playing them who understand what it really means.

ix. do they feel pride in who they are?

she definitely feels pride within herself as she grows up and separates herself from the people who constantly tell that she’s strange, weird or broken because she’s doesn’t want sex. she may not often talk about her sexuality, but when it comes up and she talks about it, she is clearly proud and wants to show people that being demi - sexual / asexual is a valid sexuality and people who do identify as that aren’t broken and not all of them are sex repulsed either.

x. who has been your muse’s supportive idol in their self discovery?

whilst beth may not be asexual or demi - sexual, beth washington is definitely someone who sam will always talk to about things concerning sexuality. beth came out a young age and has been really involved in the lgbtqia+ community, setting a group up at their high school, being active on social meda and really trying to help her friends. all of that is really inspiring for sam and she’s glad to have a friend like beth helping her through this.

xi. who was your muse’s first crush?

she’d still deny it and doesn’t often talk about it, however, josh washington was sam’s first crush, plus is someone that she often feels the biggest connection to. she was about seven or eight when she first met the washington’s, but it wasn’t till she was about thirteen that she realised she had a crush on josh, wanting to spend time with him, thought about wanting to hold his hand and she often caught herself looking at him. however she never acted on it, always more concerned about ruining her friendships with all the washington siblings, even as she got older and her first crush definitely become more intense towards josh, it sometimes seemed like she wasn’t always alone in it either.

xii. what advice does your muse have for lgbtq+ teens?

sam always will say ‘ come out when you’re ready to, doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, ’ and to other demi - sexual / asexual teens, she will say ‘ it really doesn’t matter what anyone else, you are not broken, you are not weird and your identity is not something that needs to be fixed, you are completely valid and you will find the people who understand that, ’

xiii. has your muse come out to friends and family?

sam didn’t really ever need to come out to her dad, he accepted that she wasn’t that interested in sex and would always tell her that she would know when she was ready for a relationship or anything else, no one else could tell her that. she only came out to a few of her friends, the ones who would understand and didn’t constantly mock her for being ‘ weird for not having kissed anyone ’, so she is out to ashley, beth, chris, hannah and josh, plus her friends from her lgbtqia+ society at college.

xiv. how does your muse feel about the phrase ‘ coming out ’?

for her, she never really felt the need to come out, maybe because she never really had the strong connection with someone where it might matter. however, she does also believe in full honesty, coming out is being fully honest, with yourself, your friends, your loved ones and that’s why people do it.

xv. do they believe there is a closet to come out of?

she doesn’t feel like she was hiding in the closet, she just was always herself. however, after hearing other people’s coming out stories, she can understand why some people say that there is a closet to come out of.

xvi. what’s your muse’s biggest pet peeve when it comes to lgbtq+ characterisation in media?

stereotypes, the killing off of lgbtqia characters and lack of representation for many identities in the lgbtqia+ spectrum. some of the stereotypes lead to misleading beliefs about lgbtqia+ people and can tend to be really harmful, often can be what people believe an lgbtqia+ person to look like and act like. often in media, when there is lgbtqia+ characters, it seems whenever they get their happy moment, looks like they’re gonna get their happy ending, one of the relationship often gets killed off, it’s like the media is saying that all lgbtqia+ muses are doomed to be tragic. the lack of representation is something that really bothers sam, she can’t seem to find an asexual / demi - sexual characters on screen, as well as other identities.

xvii. what’s their favourite part when it comes to lgbtq+ characterisation in media?

the fact that people can see lgbtqia+ relationships, normalising it and showing that lgbtqia+ people are there in society, they’re not different or wrong, they just want the same as everyone else does, to be loved.

xviii. do they practice safe sex with the same gender?

if sam got to a point with someone where she’d want to have sex, practice safe sex would be something she’d insist on at first. however, if she was with another woman, she’d be making sure that they used condoms on toys, if they used them, just being as careful as they can until a long term commitment is made clear.

xix. what are their turn offs with the same gender? what are their turn ons?

turn ons : confidence, someone who knows who they are and what they want, but also someone who isn’t arrogant about themselves or what they’re good at, someone who is also kind and loving but not scared to stand up for themselves or who they love.

turn offs : someone who likes to tear people down to make themselves feel better, who are just plain bitchy and nasty, constantly pick on people about little things.

xx. how does your muse feel about lgbtq+ clubs / apps / websites?

sam thinks they’re a really good way of connecting with other people within the community, they’re safe places for people to meet without fear. however she is aware of the dangers online, people not being who they say are and predatory behaviour, so usually relies on her lgbtqia+ society at college.

xxi. how do they feel about the term ‘ queer ’?

sam has no personal issue with that word, but is definitely aware of others that might so tends not to use it herself.

xxii. what tips would they give to heterosexual / cisgendered people looking to better understand the community and news surrounding it?

that they need to be open minded and educate themselves, to not get offended when they are corrected about terms and let go of any bias or stereotypes they think are true. be open to the fact that not everything will be the same as what they are used but that is still okay.

xxiii. what’s the most annoying question your muse has ever gotten for being lgbtq+?

who hurt you to make you demi - sexual? the answer is no one did, sam just doesn’t feel the sexual attraction towards people, she’s not broken, hasn’t been through some kind of sexual trauma, she didn’t get hurt or scorned by a lover. she just doesn’t feel sexual attraction and there is nothing wrong with that.

xxiv. how do they feel about receiving questions about their sexuality and / or gender?

sam doesn’t mind, but she will only take so much if she feels that someone isn’t trying to be understanding or open minded about her sexuality. she shouldn’t have to explain herself over and over, but she will also try to be understanding and patient. unless the other person gets rude or mean, she will stay calm and be willing to answer questions.

#samantha giddings.#headcanons.#my headcanons.#not rebloggable.

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startouched · 5 years

Text

ff black forest cake backstory

translator. much of this drama has been based on a single summary of black forest cake’s backstory. some people have said we shouldn’t jump to conclusions before seeing the full text, so i wanted to share this and let people come to their own conclusions.

i tend to be a more liberal translator and i focus more on getting the meaning across than giving a literal translation. i have tried to give a more literal translation here so as not to bias the reading, but this was also done quite quickly. i’m happy to discuss details of the translation if you’d like clarity, or if people have any corrections.

i leave no comment on the content. this is for you to read and find out.

ONE. DEFENDER

To a city, laws are a very important thing.

No matter what it is, it must have a law; if there is no law, then nothing can exist.

8AM, every morning. That is when everyone gets up from bed and begins their day's work. As always, I patrolled the streets, holding my gun; as always, everything was in order.

I took a deep breath. The air held the sweet scent of kirschwasser and high-quality milk chocolate. All was as perfect as black forest cake with kirschwasser.

I couldn't resist closing my eyes and stretching lazily, my arms reaching towards the sky.

Suddenly, a tremendously loud sound came from outside. Mixed with thick smoke and firelight was the sound of a fallen angel assaulting a person. Even though the alarm was ringing, the people in the city did not panic. Instead, in an orderly fashion, they followed the instructions of the soldiers to leave and find shelter.

I hefted my gun and went towards the city limits, against the flow of people fleeing. Those evacuating all spoke their concern for me.

"Lord Black Forest Cake! Please be careful!"

"Big Sister Black Forest Cake! Good luck!"

I smiled confidently at them, then hopped onto the rooftops so I could take the quickest route to my destination. As they had been trained to do, the soldiers used the shields in their hands to entrap the fallen angel.

Under my soul power, the gun in my hand began to spin rapidly. I didn't have to spare it much thought. After my arrival, the soldiers and officers quickly evacuated, leaving me space to do battle.

After checking that everyone had left the area, I looked at the fallen angel with a nasty smile.

"Now that everyone's gone, I don't have to hold back! Come at me!"

Cherry bullets unceasingly penetrated the fallen angel's massive body. No matter how quickly it could regenerate, it couldn't save itself. The constant outpour of the bullets broke the heinous fallen angel into many pieces, and it reluctantly dissipated into nothingness.

"Amazing!! Long live Black Forest Cake!!!"

Those hiding all around me emerged from their hiding spots, waving their hands and cheering. What was a destructive disaster for other cities was merely insignificant for us.

After checking our losses, we confirmed that no one was killed by the fallen angel except the one who was originally attacked.

Hearing this, I breathed a sigh of relief. After all, it is my responsibility to protect this city.

Watching the guards nimbly get to work repairing the destroyed house, I sat on a pile of ruins nearby and observed them all working together with great gusto, and I couldn't help but smile.

All this is the result of a clearly-defined order.

Everyone does what I say. Isn't that great?

TWO. KIRSCHWASSER

At that time, our city was not too big, not too small. It didn't have anything special about it. The people, too, had few ways to improve their lot in life. But despite this, our city had a special product that no one would fail to praise - precious, sweet, delicious desserts. And of those, the one that was most recognized and yet could only be tasted here was the one and only black forest cake.

We had a secret recipe, unique only to us, and only black forest cakes produced through this secret recipe could be considered real black forest cakes.

The greatest secret in this recipe, and the greatest trick of the trade there was, was the kirschwasser I loved so much. At my suggestion, the black forest cakes that had kirschwasser added to them became the object of everyone's desire.

This was something our city could be proud of.

One day, as I went through my daily inspection, I encountered my future "general" - Spaghetti.

The clothes he wore were complex and expensive; the price of their fabric could have paid for a year of clothes for many in the city.

The dazzling necklace the girl wore could've paid for enough grain to feed our city for who knows how long...

As I thought of this, that person guessed my thoughts, and turned to face me. "Are you the defender of this city?"

I raised an eyebrow. My nod served as an answer to his question.

"The desserts of your city are delicious, especially the black forest cakes. Would you be interested in using them to enrich your city?"

I looked at the hand he offered me, and I couldn't help but feel a little caught off-guard.

I always thought that all I could bring this city was a safety others did not have. But in fact, could I also help everyone become rich?

III. ORDER

Spaghetti's plans were highly effective.

We announced the black forest cake as a limited special offer, and also gifted a few as snacks to traveling merchants.

Soon this dessert, unique in its flavor and aroma, attracted many gourmets who devoted their life to pursuing delicious foods. With their help, our city soon became famous on this continent.

For the sake of this delicious flavor, an uncountable number of people journeyed up to half a month just to come to our backwoods city.

Merchants saw the profit black forest cakes could bring, and they wanted to trade them to the entire continent.

Under Spaghetti's guidance, I declined their offers.

And so, more and more people came to our city for black forest cakes, and the wealth these people brought allowed everyone in the city to change into more luxurious clothes.

Spaghetti also told me, once everyone had a certain amount of wealth, then we should increase the requirements for the black forest cakes.

This way, our black forest cakes would always be welcome. We also had to strictly control the population in the city, so people would not leak the secret of the black forest cakes to outsiders.

Following his directions, I enacted strict laws, but I believed everyone would understand my actions. After all, this was for the sake of our city.

Everyone had to work in the production of the black forest cakes, for this way we could ensure the supply of black forest cakes would not stop. Everyone had to keep their interaction with outsiders at a minimum, for this way we could ensure the secret would not be revealed. Everyone had to make sure that only the best ingredients were used for the production of the black forest cakes, for this way we could ensure the black forest cakes we made would be enjoyed by everyone. Everyone had to ensure each black forest cake contained kirschweisser, for a black forest cake without kirschweisser was against regulations.

Everyone...

I looked at this law that had been drafted and nodded, and I handed it to the captain of our self-defense forces.

I thought everyone would be happy to obey these laws, just like before. After all, my laws had never been wrong.

But, just like Spaghetti said...

In this world, not everything will go as planned.

IV. DESIRE

After the laws went into effect, at first, everything worked as planned.

Just like before, everyone precisely followed my requirements. Our city became better by the day.

We wore the new clothes that previously, we could've saved for a year and still not been willing to spare the money for. Every meal could be accompanied with the best wine.

All of this was the result of having the correct orders.

Because of this, I was very grateful to Spaghetti. Without him, our city would not have been as glorious as it was today.

But as we were tasting desserts after the evening feast, Spaghetti's face seemed unusually serious.

He looked at the report in his hand, brow furrowed. Through his worried expression, I could tell that something we had never expected had happened.

"Black Forest Cake..." "Spaghetti? Has something happened?"

He hesitated, not telling me anything, but he kept furrowing his brow. After a long time, he didn't give me an answer, but rather put away the document in his hands and hid it behind him.

"Nothing, it's nothing important. Let's keep eating."

Spaghetti was not the type to hesitate. He must've found something, but since he was always so soft-hearted, he didn't want to tell me.

It was just like the kind of good person he was that he'd keep bringing back useless people like Stargazey Pie, and go through all efforts to heal them.

Recently, he brought back another person who looked so very weak, and had been helping her treat her disease...

Thinking of this, I looked at the time. At this time every day, he would go to tend to that girl who looked like a mermaid.

Seeing that he had left the building, I went to extract that document he'd hidden in a drawer.

The message on that document left me enraged.

No wonder. No wonder Spaghetti, that guy, wanted to hide it from me.

They dared!! They dared!!!!!!

I went to the place where the self-defense force stayed, and surprisingly, found no one there.

Suddenly, familiar sounds from outside attracted my attention.

When I arrived at the city gate, I found those that I had previously trusted the most were currently directing a big group of people to furtively put their belongs on the car and deliver it out of the city.

"You. What are you doing?"

I stood at the city gates, looking at the self-defense force captain holding out his arms to protect the other people behind him. He didn't seem as respectful as usual. Even though he seemed somewhat timid, yet he still looked at me with that same brave gaze he looked at fallen angels with.

Like facing a fallen angel...

"L-lord B-black Forest Cake, we - we want to leave this city."

I looked at the cowardly girl hiding behind him. I didn't recognize her; she wasn't one of the girls who had been in the city before.

The girl saw my gaze and shrank entirely behind the captain.

"Why?" "Because... because I love her! She came by our city, and we fell in love at first sight! Lord Black Forest Cake, please forgive us!" "Then, the others?"

I heard the unexpected coldness in my voice, a coldness that didn't seem like me at all.

Perhaps they thought by telling the truth, I would forgive them, so they each explained their own reasons.

I looked at these people, and slowly, I asked them, "Then, what about me? Are you betraying me?"

"No, no, no! We'll come back to see you! We won't tell the secret of making black forest cakes to anyone! But... but we really can't live like this, like robots, having even our sleeping moments controlled by you... Please. Let us leave." "You traitors..." "Lord Black Forest Cake!" "Traitors..."

I didn't know when he'd arrived, but Spaghetti had come to stand behind me.

"Black Forest Cake... I'm sorry... It was my fault... I shouldn't have told you those methods. If these humans hadn't had their first taste of success, if that hadn't made them greedy for more, then none of this would've happened."

I saw his apologetic gaze, and I raised my head a little and let out a self-mocking laugh.

"This isn't your fault. It's their fault. They tasted a little sweetness and that only made them hunger for more, and that's their fault!" "Black Forest Cake..." "Spaghetti, you don't have to say anything. If they want to leave, then I will let them leave."

In their surprised and happy eyes, my laugh felt strangely calm.

V. BLACK FOREST CAKE

Black Forest Cake was summoned by an extraordinarily self-disciplined military officer. When he left, she took upon her shoulders the responsibility of protecting this rural little city.

To her, orders meant everything.

In this city, no one could defy her orders.

In the beginning, her orders were just to establish a self-defense force that would react quickly to fallen angel attacks.

Her orders slowly changed the city for the better. This was something everyone could see for themselves. So everyone happily accepted her orders and followed them to the letter.

But from one day - they didn't know exactly when - they realized that Black Forest Cake's orders had become harsher and harsher.

It was not just the previous nighttime curfew. Black Forest Cake's idea of production meant she wanted to control everyone's everything. No matter if they were sick and could not work, they would not have a moment of rest.

And so, this last set of laws that were proclaimed were the straw that broke the camel's back.

People had no way to control who they loved, just as they had no way to control the weather.

Faced with the Black Forest Cake who had once so kindly protected them, they did not want to hurt her. So they chose to leave quietly.

But they did not realize that this would be seen by Black Forest Cake. "If they want to leave, then I will let them leave."

When they heard this, people felt relief and joy, as if a great weight had been lifted from their backs.

But they never thought that Black Forest Cake use her own soul power to attract the enemy that they had long forgotten - the fallen angels.

They faced the terrifying threat of the fallen angels head-on for the first time, and those creatures, emanating evil from their greedy eyes, stared at this group of helpless people.

The only existence who could save them had walked back into the city walls, and said with a kind of coldness they had never seen from her before, "I only protect the people of my city. You lived under my protection before, but now, I no longer have the duty to protect you."

From within the walls, Black Forest Cake listened to the cries and pleas for mercy of those outside. She raised her head and closed her eyes, leaning against that flimsy city door. Her glove-clad hands tightened into fists many times. Only when the terrible screams outside the city stopped did she finally open her eyes.

Spaghetti, who had been standing by her the entire time, did not speak. With what little comfort he could offer, he patted her back.

"You cannot force humans to understand us. We and humans... from the very beginning, we were different. You have done your best..."

#food fantasy #ff black forest cake #ff spaghetti #ff translations

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the--regenerating--degenerate · 4 years

Text

Sol Invictus

Chapter six: The Grimm

The cockpit of the Juniper was quiet—crowded, but quiet. Jaune sat uneasily in the captain’s chair, a frown forming, his fingers flexing worriedly as he adjusted the ship’s trajectory as the Juniper left the red dust of Caviis IV behind them. Next to him was Ren, quietly contemplative, but fidgety, his arms tight, shoulders hunched as he checked local readouts and sensor sweeps. Nora sat in her traditional spot behind him, shockingly quiet as she held Pyrrha’s hand.

Normally the cockpit would be filled with Nora’s numerous questions, statements, and dozens of misremembered stories, which Ren would quietly correct when she paused for breath. Currently, her boundless energy seemed sapped and drained as she comforted Pyrrha.

If Jaune was a superstitious man, he would have taken a reserved Nora as an ill omen. He was more than sure that Ren already had, judging by the slight movements as Ren’s jaw worked the words of a silent void shanty.

Behind Jaune, Pyrrha sat with her head bowed, her free hand rubbing at her temple, every once in a while, she reached out to grasp the only trinket in the cockpit. It was a strange little thing. A necklace made from polished white beads, which Jaune swore were made of some unknown bone, and a single round charm of a circumpunct etched in gold relief. It was the only mark the Juniper bore from their mysterious compatriot, that marked the ship as Pyrrha’s home. Ren had his trinkets, charms, and fetishes. Nora had painted one or several of the rooms with bizarre, colourful shapes in strange, sometimes unnerving patterns. Even Jaune had knitted the rug in the mess and common room.

All Pyrrha had added was her necklace in the cockpit.

Every now and then she would reach out for it, bringing its bronze relief to her forehead, before letting it go to hang from the ceiling once again in the middle of the four.

Before them was the vast openness of space. Distant stars shined like tiny candle flames off in the distance against the cold hard black of the void.

It was a view which Jaune never stopped finding awe-inspiring. Despite him not being much of a believer, Jaune could always see why some still clung to those beliefs every time he looked out the viewing port. But the stars were dull today, overshadowed by worry. Pyrrha screamed as he had never heard from anyone before…

Then she vomited up blood.

Their passengers had disappeared to Ms. Snow’s quarters, where they remained held up. Pyrrha had slowly recovered after that; her cheeks, while still pale, were returning to a healthy hue. Though she still winced at the bright, sterile lights of the Juniper’s halls and so had kept her eyes closed.

“Pyrrha… What happened?” Jaune asked gently as he turned his high backed seat to look his friend in the eye.

Pyrrha opened a single emerald eye and tried to smile. Instead, she grimaced, the skin around her eyes and mouth tight. “It’s fine Jaune. Just a… just a migraine.”

“That was more than a migraine.” Nora was quiet, still clutching Pyrrha’s hand squeezing it reassuringly. “You took one look at that Ruby girl and suddenly you’re screaming! What happened? What did she do? Do I have to break her legs? I don’t want to, I like her! But if she’s hurting you…”

“Magic. Ill omens.” Ren nodded sagely, not taking his eyes from the ship’s instruments.

“No, no. Nothing like that,” Pyrrha laughed, though Jaune could hear that it was tinged with pain, “The girl… she’s fine. I’m fine.”

Jaune sighed as he leaned back his chair creaking at the movement. He owed his life to her a dozen, a hundred times over. He had shared with her countless intimate thoughts and even some of his fears. She was his friend. But that being said, he actually knew very little about Pyrrha. He didn’t know where she was from, who her parents were, where she had learned to fight. Pyrrha Nikos was an enigma, a secret.

One that he was not privy to, despite their years together.

“Pyrrha? Please…” Jaune was insistent, his tone cracking ever so slightly. Never once had he seen Pyrrha taken down, so to see her screaming in pain…

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” Pyrrha’s jaw was set, her tone resolute; she even pulled free her hand which Nora had clung so tightly to. Brusquely, she said, “What’s our course?”

Jaune wanted to protest the blatant drop and change in subject, but, sadly, he knew better. Once Pyrrha had set her mind to something, there was very little chance of changing.

Ren said nothing, though his shoulders had become tight and the slightest hint of frown forming at the edges of lips clearly displayed how he felt about how the conversation had turned. Frankly, Jaune agreed with him,.

Ren brought up the holographic map from his display console. The trip would be simple enough. One of Ms. Snow’s Faunus companions, Belladonna, he believed, had given them the coordinates for an unnamed planet right near the edge of Grimm Space. The route itself was also fairly trivial: a slight rounding path, using several planets and systems as bearings and markers. All told, a week or two from Caviis IV to the first destination.

Getting back to Atlas, on the other hand, was going to be a little bit more difficult. A direct route would not only lead them through the Go-Land Syndicate shipping lanes but also near the area of space where the Pirate Queen and the Muninn had claimed their hunting grounds.

Jaune was of the opinion that avoiding the fight was far more preferable than getting caught in a slugging match with either of them. Yes the Juniper was fast and carried more firepower than what most ships her size had a right to. But there was always that chance of something going wrong. Better to avoid them and live to spend the reward, then die in a ventilated, drifting wreck.

So the plan was to go far around, hugging the outskirts of Wild Space before making their turn towards Atlas. It would take more time, stretching it to three or four weeks for the Atlas run, but it was safer.

Pyrrha nodded and stood up as Jaune finished, her normally placid expression... thoughtful? Worried? Concerned? Maybe all three blended into one.

“Excellent.” Pyrrha smiled, “I will inform our passengers of the route and time table then.”

“Maybe we should let Ren or myself talk to them?” Jaune protested hesitantly, "considering what just happened.”

“Jaune.” Pyrrha’s tone was firm and sharp. “I’m fine. Let me do this.”

Not even waiting for an answer, Pyrrha grabbed the data slate and hurried out of the cockpit, leaving the rest of them alone.

Jaune frowned as he chewed his bottom lip. He had never seen Pyrrha like this. Never once in a firefight, or in a ship engagement or even the odd time the Juniper attracted the attention of the Grimm. To see someone who was always so calm in the face of danger, now becoming agitated at simple questions…

Nora quickly wiped her teal coloured eyes with the back of her hand. Pyrrha was her sister in everything but name. To have Pyrrha pull away from her like that would have cut her deep.

Jaune closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was sure Pyrrha would come back and apologise. Nora was too nice; she would instantly forgive Pyrrha, he was certain of that.

But the problem would remain: Pyrrha and her secrets.

“Don’t,” Ren warned as he punched in the coordinates for the first fold, his face inexpressive as it always was.

“What?” Jaune asked surprised.

"Don't," Ren repeated, "Pyrrha has her secrets. She'll tell us when she thinks the time is right. Pushing the matter won't help."

“Yeah….” Jaune sighed as he turned back towards the viewing screens. Ren was right: Pyrrha had her secrets. When she was ready she would tell them.

In front of him, the stars blurred and the Juniper lurched forward into the void.

----------

“What did you do to that girl!?” Weiss interrogated as she rounded on Ruby.

“I don’t know! I told you, I didn’t do anything,” Ruby cried, even as she shrank from Weiss cold anger.

Ruby didn’t know. She honestly didn’t know. Ruby had been so excited to meet someone like Nora who loved ships almost as much as she did and more importantly, Nora didn’t recoil when they talked. It was as though to her, Ruby was just a normal girl.

Then the Pyrrha woman showed up. Ruby had been prepared for the usual look of disgust, the shudder of someone being offered something vile. She hadn’t been prepared for was watching the woman scream in pain and then vomit blood onto the deck.

Weiss, Belladonna, and Yang had quickly taken her away to the quarters she and Weiss were sharing, and then questioned her for the past hour, thankfully uninterrupted by the Juniper’s crew. Ruby lowered her eyes in shame and worry. Hopefully, they wouldn’t throw them out.

“Ruby, you’re not in trouble… But that woman took one look at you and started screaming as though someone sawed her limb off.” Yang sat on the bed beside Ruby and wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder. Her tone kind and gentle, “We just need to know in case they have questions.”

“I know Yang,” Ruby whispered as she laid her head against Yang’s shoulder. “I know… I just don’t know what happened. She took a look at me and then…”

Ruby shrugged.

“We’ll be lucky if they don’t throw us out the airlock after this,” Weiss muttered as she leaned up against the nauseatingly colourful wall.

Ruby hung her head. Had she cost them the galaxy? She tensed when she felt another hand slowly rub her back and the cot she sat on sag with the weight of another person sitting down.

“I’m sorry. It will be okay Ruby,” Weiss whispered softly, “We’ll think of something.”

“I doubt they’re going to throw us off,” Belladonna added from where she sat at the desk across the room, her face thoughtful. “We’ve been on board for over an hour and I can hear the Fold drive kicking in. I don’t think these are the type of people to send us for a bit of a void walk.”

“Yeah, besides we could kick their asses if they tried.” Ruby could hear Yang’s smirk and feel the muscle in her arm around her shoulders tighten at the thought of a fight.

“I don’t think we are going to have to go that far, Yang,” Weiss responded.

“But it might come to that,” Belladonna warned as she stood up from the chair. “We should be prepared for that possibility.”

“I really don’t want to fight them,” Ruby mumbled as she lifted her head from Yang’s shoulder. “Nora’s nice and the other’s were pretty welcoming too… for smugglers.”

“We might have to. We have a mission. If we fail, then billions die.” Belladonna marched across the room to look Ruby in the eyes with a hardened glare. “What’s four smugglers and nine brothers and sisters compared to a billion.”

Ruby winced at the bitterness in her tone. It hurt, but Belladonna was right. If they were forced to, the four of them would have to take the ship from the crew.

A knock at the door interrupted Ruby’s gloomy thoughts and the four looked at each other apprehensively. Yang pulled her pistol, taking a position beside the door. Belladonna followed her lead on the other side, readying her heavy boarding blade and light calibre pistol. Weiss checked that her pistol was clear in its holster as Ruby stood up and walked to the door.

The door slid open with a hiss and Ruby blinked in surprise as the blood-red haired woman who had been only recently screaming in pain and throwing up blood stood outside with an too calm and gentle smile.

“Hello again,” She greeted Ruby warmly.

“Uh…” Ruby stuttered then caught herself, “I’m sorry. Hello… umm.... I don’t think we were introduced? ‘Cause… well…”

The woman shook her head politely. “No, we weren’t and I’m sorry for that. I… took ill I’m afraid.”

“It looked a little more than ‘ill’,” Yang said dryly as she holstered her pistol and joined them at the door. “It looked like you were about to die. Sounded like it too.”

The woman’s practiced smile never faltered. “I’m sorry if it caused distress, which is why I’m here: to show that no harm was done and to deliver the itinerary from the captain.”

The woman offered a data slate, which Yang took with a nod of thanks and quickly skimmed through.

“And… I’m sorry I almost forgot.” The woman smiled again and held out her hand, “I’m Pyrrha Nikos. I handle security on the ship.”

Ruby took the hand and was surprised by how warm it was and the strength of her grip. A strange feeling of peace and safety seemed to radiate off of this strange woman. The aura of serenity, of peace, of warmth and safety was such an antithesis to Ruby’s own...it was almost disquieting.

Ruby hestinently offered her own smile in return. “Thank you Ms. Nikos. I’m Ruby Rose. That’s my sister Yang. The Faunus is Belladonna Zech Blake ist Dawn’s Hope and of course Ms. Weiss Snow.”

Pyrrha softly nodded her head in greeting, her lips tightening just ever so slightly as she quickly let go and tucked her hand behind her back. “A pleasure. As security, I must also inform you of the rules. Feel free to make use of the common area. The ship’s cockpit, engines, the armoury, and the weapon bay are off-limits unless accompanied by one of the crew. Feel free to keep your weapons, as I doubt you will be willing to turn them over.”

“Damn right we aren’t,” Yang muttered under her breath.

Whether or not Ms. Nikos had heard her, Ruby was unsure, as the crimson-haired woman continued.

“I must insist you keep them in your quarters. Taking them outside your rooms will be seen as a hostile action. I’m sorry but you must understand that these are simple precautions.”

Ruby nodded her head, waving a hand to shush Yang who clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“We understand. Thank you Ms. Nikos.”

“Please, call me Pyrrha,” Pyrrha said, as she raised her left hand in slight protest at the formality.

“Only if you call me Ruby,” she chirruped back.

Pyrrha grinned that same overly gentle and kind practiced smile and bowed her head. “That sounds grand. But I’m sorry to say, I must return to the cockpit.”

The door hissed closed, leaving the four of them to themselves.

“Well… that went better than I was expecting.” Yang admitted cheerily as she threw an arm around her sister. “Guess we had nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah…” Ruby wasn’t so sure. “Nothing to worry about.”

----------

Pyrrha locked the door to her room behind her as she leaned against it and let out a pained breath. Her hand, the one she had shaken with Ruby, felt as though the bones had been turned to splinters, the muscles torn and the skin peeled in long strips.

What Pyrrha had done was stupid:. but she wanted to be sure.

Wanted to be certain.

She lifted her hand to the dull light of her quarters and though she was prepared for what she might see, her breath still caught in her throat as Pyrrha choked down a moment of panic.

The skin of her hand was blacker than the void and dead.

Her fingers wouldn’t move; she could barely twist her wrist. Already the rot was setting in, eating away at the healthy olive-coloured flesh of her arm.

Pyrrha cursed under her breath as she slipped on her gauntlets to cover the damage that Ruby had unknowingly inflicted on her.

It had been stupid. More than stupid. Her reaction to their first meeting should have been enough, but Pyrrha was never one to do anything by half. She just needed the confirmation. While Pyrrha was sure that her hand would heal over time, another exposure like that, or the previous one in the hold could either cripple or kill her.

Pyrrha tried to close her hand and winced in pain. She would have to be careful for now.

Ruby wouldn’t be a problem. Pyrrha doubted the young girl actually knew what she was. The problem would be inducting her. It would have to be done in secret: lessons given alone, secrets, knowledge, rituals revealed. The crew, her compatriots, none of them were allowed to know. They couldn’t know.

She felt her heart drop and blinked away a tear

Jaune couldn’t know. That was always the hardest part.

Pyrrha glanced around her barren chambers. They were dull and lifeless, the walls a pale grey and there was nothing to mark that someone did live here, save for the sword and rifle hanging from their place on the wall.

She took a deep breath of stale, recycled air, and not for the first time nor the last time, cursed the burden, the destiny, that she had been sworn to.

But Pyrrha Nikos, Daughter and Secret Keeper of the Ordo Sol Invictus was never one to shirk duty. To avoid purpose. This was her destiny and thus she would carry it out.

No matter how lonely it became.

----------

Nine days since leaving Caviis IV

Yang yawned and stretched as she left her room. The holster at her hip felt uncomfortably empty. She missed the weight of Ember Celica at her side; that extra feeling of security her boarding pistol brought her.

But rules were rules.

Yang was sure she could take any of the Juniper crew on. However, getting into a fight on the ship was not conducive to her job of being a bodyguard for the Heir Apparent. Void be damned if Yang was going to give little Weiss-cream any reason to deduct from her reward.

Still, space travel made her anxious and just this side of ill-tempered. She hated it. The waiting. The feeling of being stuck in an inescapable tin can for hours, days, weeks at a time. Water strictly rationed to two twenty-second showers a day and food being little more than hardtack smeared with some grey and lumpy protein paste.

Well...at least it's better than reycke.

Thankfully the Juniper crew seemed more than willing to include them in their daily, time-burning activities.

Nora and Ruby would often wander off to some small part of the ship, no doubt rapid-firing asking and answering questions with each other at speeds only those two could seem to keep up with. Blake busied herself with a data slate filled with literally thousands of books ranging from literary fiction and pulpy fantasy to the classics of philosophy and history (as well as a shockingly large amount of erotic literature and images.)

Weiss kept to herself when Ruby was helping Nora.She and Ruby seemed to have grown rather fond of each other, and they would spend hours talking or playing data slate board games like Regicide or Mistrialian Go when Nora was busy with some other task. Sometimes, Weiss would stick close to Yang, but she knew that she was a little too crass for Weisscicle. Not that the two didn’t have some good talks now and then, but Weiss tended to lose interest once Yang got to the “then I punched him in the face” part of her stories.

All of them agreed that keeping Weiss’s identity a secret was for the best; the crew of the Juniper seemed to be a trustworthy and honest group, but there was no telling what they would do if they found out there was an Atlassian Noble on board. Much less the Heir Apparent. The thought of an easily extracted ransom might be too much for the Juniper crew.

The door to the common room-slash-mess opened and Yang found herself looking into a rather strange sight...

Around the polished plastisteel table sat Nora, Ruby, Weiss, Ren and Captain Arc. The former of the five were deep in a game of Spacer’s Run, an incredibly intricate and complicated card game revolving around buying, selling, trading cards to make hand over several rounds, while Arc… knitted?

Yang blinked. Then blinked again.

Yes, there was Arc, sitting there happily knitting, as he offered advice and pointers to both Weiss and Ruby as they were fairly new players.

“Not something I thought I would see,” Yang announced after a moment or two of pause. “You… uh, you knit a lot, Cap’n Arc?”

“There is a lot of dead time to fill in the void,” Jaune shrugged and said, “Need to do something to keep the mind from wandering too much.”

Yang opened her mouth, then closed it. It was sound advice, though Yang personally preferred old fashioned fisticuffs to sitting around and playing a card game or two. Or knitting for that manner.

Jaune marked off his knitting, setting it aside as Ren dealt another hand. While Nora weaved another story about one of the Juniper’s more eventful adventures.

“So we had picked up this cargo right? About a thousand or so crates.“

“More like a hundred,” Ren corrected calmly as he tossed in his last few bars of Aegisalt.

“And we were told under no circumstances were we ever to look into them under pain of horrific execution.”

“We were told just not to look into them.”

“So Cap’n does what he’s told and we’re making the run… and BOOM!” Nora threw her hands wide. “We run into over a dozen Protectorate heavy cruisers and a battlecruiser!”

“It was a single light-cruiser and two frigates actually,” Ren, again corrected as he bought a card after checking his hand.

Yang smirked as Weiss seemed to scowl and Ruby leaned in closer at every word.

“So the Cap’n pulls our girl into a hard bank and though the Juniper is fast, we’re outgunned, we’re dodging shots and missiles and torpedoes… when the Cap’n gets this idea. He runs us into an asteroid field, shuts down all power, runs us cold, then sends a little message to the Blood Pact Raiders. This was a gang who had some serious beef with us and Jaune tells them…”

Nora dropped her voice an octave. “Hey Blood Pact! You stink like some dirt sucking slag faces… Come get us we’re here.”

“I don’t sound like that,” Jaune commented idly, the corners of his mouth ticking up.

“And so the Blood Pact shows up,” Nora continued to ignore the peanut gallery, “and runs into Procs! So while the Blood Pact is getting slaughtered by the Procs, we managed to slip through around to escape and finish the run!”

“Best part of that run? Guess what was in the boxes?” Jaune teased as he set his knitting aside.

“Weapons? Medicine? Drugs? Cash?” Yang listed off a number of things the pirates tended to smuggle.

Jaune grinned. “Cheese.”

The table fell to laughing. Even stuck up Weiss-cream cracked a smile.

It was strange to see Ruby snort and laugh with the rest of the crew, causing the rest to laugh even louder along with her. It made Yang smile all the more to see how quickly the Juniper’s crew had accepted Ruby. Sadly there was, of course, the period right after take off when Jaune and Ren had avoided Ruby like a plague, and the mysterious Pyrrha woman was only rarely seen.

But much to Yang's surprise, Jaune and Ren had slowly warmed up to Ruby. Whether it was because Weiss was a constant companion, Ruby’s own seemingly infinite cheerfulness, or because they were all stuck in this tin-can and were pushing day nine, Yang wasn’t entirely sure why. But she was thankful that the others had come to accept Ruby.

“Well…” Jaune yawned as he stood up and stretched, “I should go relieve Pyrrha. We’re going to be dropping out of the Fold soon. Should just be one la...”

He was cut off as alarms shrieked and the ship shuddered into real space. All of them were thrown to the ground, heads cracking on the deck plating and furniture.

“Jaune.” Pyrrha’s voice came over the intercom, her tone utterly calm and collected. That woman seemed to be unflappable. “We have Grimm.”

“Shit.” Jaune spat as he leapt to his feet and raced to the cockpit.

Ren helped Weiss to her feet, while Nora pushed Ruby and Yang back towards their rooms. Yang had to admit she was taken aback by Nora’s sheer brawn as she was shoved out into the hall.

Going to have to have an arm-wrestling match with her once this Grimm business is done. Yang licked the top of her lip as she allowed herself to be physically removed by the engineer.

“What can we do?” Ruby called, as she rushed to join the two.

“Get into your rooms and bar the doors,” Ren ordered calmly as he moved down the hall to the armoury.

“Fuck that.” Yang grinned savagely. Her blood was up. “Give me a gun. I haven’t shot something in a long time.”

“Yeah!” Ruby cheered, “We can help!”

“We’re not helpless, you know,” Weiss pointedly added as she followed them down the hallway.

“I have no doubt that you aren’t helpless, but you are our passengers. We must ensure your safety,” Ren answered patiently, his eyes half-lidded as though the impending danger of a Grimm boarding action was still a rather trivial concern

“You're going to need more than just yourself and Nora,” Yang countered as she shook off Nora’s guiding hand, “You can use us.”

Ren was about to reply when Jaune came over the intercom.

“Ren, lock everything down… I don’t know where they came from but there’s a whole flock of Griffins and at least two Nevermore Grandis. They must have been what pulled us from the Fold. Pyrrha’s coming down to help with defenses.”

Ren let out an irritated breath. “Fine. But you listen to Pyrrha, Nora and myself, understood?”

Yang smashed her fists together, “You got it chief.”

-------

Yang howled as her pistol roared. Three shots hit centre mass on the Griffon who had just phased through the armour plating of the ship. Its inky flesh exploded out in a mess of black viscera, as it howled in pain spreading its wings and rearing up on its back legs. Its white bone mask and four crimson eyes, filled with a primordial hatred and hunger, stared hungrily back at her.

The Grimm screeched and leapt at her, beak wide open to rip and tear into her flesh. Yang ducked and brought the pistol underneath its head and fired. The Grimm’s head detonated as the heavy calibre round tore into what should have been its brainpan and exploded, showering the area with bits of bone and midnight purple blood.

Blood the colour of shadows.

Beside her, Nora grunted as she caught a claw with her shotgun. With her own roar, she twisted it down and threw it off balance, firing two rounds into its bone mask, shattering it like glass. She left it bleeding on the floor, heavily injured and dying.

Nora yelled triumphantly as she then slammed the butt of her gun into the head of the Griffon, putting it out of its misery with a sickening crack.

Behind them, another was gunned down by concentrated fire from Weiss and Ren. Even as they brought three Griffons down, another four phased into the ship, screeching their hunger for the crew.

Yang shuddered at the inhuman, evil sound. She squeezed the trigger rapidly, firing several more explosive shots into the leader, who fell to the floor with massive chunks of its body splattering against the hall. She had fired until her pistol ran dry.

“Void take it all.” Yang spat, as she pistol-whipped one more, caving its skull in with the grip of Ember Celica. “How many of these things are there?”

A shadow danced around her as Blake rammed her heavy boarding blade into its sagging mouth and then down its flank, parting shadow flesh and leaving the creature to wither and die. Blake danced away, a small smirk of satisfaction as she ducked under another swipe. Coming back up, Blake brought Gambol Shroud down onto the neck of another Griffon, before leaping back elegantly as Nora and Yang advanced unleashing a cascade of shots into its still twitching form.

The ship shook; Yang felt the familiar thrum of the magnetic charge in the back of her teeth as the Juniper lashed out in anger. Her eyes widened; the charge was akin to ones that powered the guns they mounted on the Muninn. A ship almost four times the size of the Juniper.

Guess they weren’t lying about that. Yang thought savagely. She wasn’t sure what Captain Arc was aiming at, but as she slamed a new magazine home, she sure as hell hoped he hit the fucking thing.

“Hold them off a little longer!” Jaune’s panicked voice shouted over the coms. “One of the Nevermores is dead, but we got three more...Damnit.”

The link cut out.

Yang scoffed and fired as more Griffons poured through the ship’s hull, filling the Juniper with a screeching mass of shadowy flesh, white bone masks, and hateful, hungry eyes.

“Easy for him to say. Come on you ugly pieces of shit!” Yang roared in challenge quickly reloading before she rushed into the middle of them, firing wildly and striking out with heavy, hammering blows that left the inhuman malice of the Grimm staggering.

They just had to hold on a little longer.

----------

Ruby wasn’t exactly sure how she got here. She originally had planned to be with Weiss and Yang guarding the engines and the point defense weapon bay. Instead, she had been roped into holding the hall to the cockpit with Pyrrha as Griffons phased into existence in front of them.

She aimed for their eyes and mouth. Crescent Rose barked in a steady staccato as she fired a short burst of fire down the hall, expertly hitting her targets. Beside her, Pyrrha twirled her sword in an easy flourish in her left hand. Her right was encased in a bronze-coloured gauntlet as she softly chanted an oddly soothing and peaceful song that Ruby did not know the origins of.

Every now and then, a screeching Griffon would get to close, and Pyrrha would react with inhuman speed and deadly grace. She cut each Grimm down with the spectacular ease of the dancers she had once glimpsed on a holovid. But in person, in fighting, Ruby had never seen anything like it.

Usually, a Grimm, even small ones like Griffons, were tough bastards to put down, often needing half a magazine to put down. Pyrrha, it seemed, just sliced through them.

A perfect strike.

A breathtaking cut.

And the monsters instantly went down, night-red blood glistening on the deck.

Every now and then Ruby thought she saw a brief flash of golden light, but dismissed it. She tensed, getting ready to aim at the next Griffon that phased in. It was probably just the muzzle flash of her rifle.

It seemed like hours the two held the hall that line to the cockpit. They gunned and cut down every demon that came.

“How… How many more?” Ruby panted, as she slid another magazine into her rifle. “I’m running really low on ammo.”

“It does not matter,” Pyrrha’s voice did not waver, she seemed not even to be tired, “We must hold them. If they get to Jaune, then we all die.”

“Cheery thought,” Ruby quipped back as fired another burst down the hall, catching a Griffon who had just phased into existence full in the face with a three round burst.

The air buzzed with electrical discharge. Ruby felt her stomach plummet and the back of her teeth vibrate as the Juniper rocked with the discharge of her primary gun.

“Last Nevermore down!” Jaune crackled to life over the coms, his voice filled with excitement “I’m getting ready to Fold. On my mark in three… two… one… Mark!”

Beneath her feet, Ruby could feel the thrum of energy as the Juniper launched forward into the Fold. They escaped the main horde of Grimm. Ruby could hear the sounds of fighting lighting up in the distance from the few Grimm still remaining as her friends cleared the ship. She closed her eyes and wiped the sweat off her forehead with a grin.

Suddenly, a Griffon charged her, barreling down the hall. Her eyes popped open as it screeched in rage and seethed hatred.

Pyrrha moved to intercept …

And missed.

Ruby’s eyes widened and her grip briefly slipped her rifle as she watched the red-haired woman being battered aside, crashing against the wall and falling to the floor in a heap.

Ruby raised her rifle steadying her shaking hands. Even if she hit, the Griffon could take the shots and still tear her to pieces.

She fired and closed her eyes, ready to feel her flesh being ripped from her bones by its needle-sharp teeth.

Her heart pounded. Seconds ticked by… and there was nothing.

No claws, no tearing, no biting. No pain as her life was ripped from her body by a monster.

Even the screeching had stopped, save for the one or two in the aft that were quickly put down by Yang and the others.

Ruby slowly opened her eyes… The Griffon was dead. The beast was dead. Its jaw loose, its beak hung open. Its tongue shrivelled and its eyes, once lit brightly with malice and hunger, were dull and empty, as though the anger had simply melted away. Its torn, shredded wings lay out stretched and its clawed for legs crumpled underneath it.

It had died not even two feet in front of her. With no wound to speak of.

She looked up and right into the knowing emerald gaze of Pyrrha Nikos.

#RWBY #rwby fanfic #Ruby #Yang #Blake #Weiss #Sol Invictus

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

Text

ask you destiny to dance [7] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“What did you do? Ash is more pissed at you than usual.” Brian’s looking covertly between Ash wiping glasses at the bar, and Roger, adjusting the height of his high hats a few weeks after he’d confronted her about August. She hadn’t spoken to him directly since then, but the other band members were starting to catch on.

“I didn’t do anything-” Roger tries to protest, but Freddie’s laugh cuts him off.

“He made a comment about Pocket Rocket’s dear friend.” Freddie adds, having adapted to the nickname with ease, an amused smile on his face as he looks at Roger over his shoulder.

“You mean her boyfriend.” Roger snaps, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ash tense at the bar, giving away her eavesdropping, though he didn’t call her out on it.

“Ash isn’t dating that guy, he’s like forty.” Brian laughed, but Roger caught the way Freddie’s expression darkened, though he didn’t dwell on it, and Roger’s own smile became knowing and bitter.

“Yeah, listen Bri, I know what I said.” He responded venomously, and the mood around them sobered considerably. “I don’t like him, okay, he’s too old for her,” after a beat, he wrinkled his nose, “got a dickhead aura.”

“You’ve met him once.” John points out, trying to lighten the aura. Roger just bristled at the statement.

“Rog is just fond of her,” Freddie cuts in, voice a little condescending, smile mischievous, “let him be jealous, it might take him down a peg or two.”

“I’m not bloody jealous of that creep!” After a beat of feeling particularly hurt, and Freddie’s commenting hitting a little too close to home, he hears himself lashing out, “And how low do you think my standards really are, Freds?” And that shocked Freddie into silence, eyes wide and disbelieving, his eyebrows raised, as he turned away, jaw clenched.

“You really are just trying to burn that bridge while we’re standing on it, aren’t you?” Brian shook his head, sighing heavily as he went back to his guitar.

“Roger,” John said carefully, coming over to speak quietly to the drummer, as the rest of the band turned away, uncomfortable, “let me get the drinks tonight.” And it’s not what he expected to hear, but when he looks to John, John’s looking over at the bar. Ash is making direct eye contact with him, her customer service smile looking mostly threatening as she keeps polishing the same spot on a glass. “Because that woman is going to spit in all of your drinks and make you watch.” John explains, now looking to Roger, who’s expression was carefully neutral, trying not to betray his own anger at himself. “And as much as I love our dear Pocket Rocket, it’s not something I particularly want.”

She’s definitely gone back to hating him, and he didn’t realise how much it would hurt.

The worst part is that she’s so damn happy around everyone else, and he hates himself for being hurt by that. He’s angry, but not at her (never at her, not for something like this) he’s angry because he sees the way she smiles at him from behind the bar, and he sees the way August spends more time looking at the girls in the crowd, though she can’t even tell from where she’s standing. Roger’s angry because she fucking gushes about August - “He’s just made tenure!” - and yet he won’t even touch her if there’s someone else around. He’s livid because she’s so clearly in love with him, but she still can’t bring herself to tell the others his name because she knows - knows - something’s up with August, even if she doesn’t want to admit it, even if the others can’t see it.

Except that’s not the reason she doesn’t say his name.

“He’s here at every show, we should say thank you.” Brian tries after a gig, talking mainly to Roger and John, as Freddie had been giggling with Mary, the two of them in their own little world. Ash is nowhere to be seen. Roger takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Heaps of people are fans of us, it doesn’t mean we have to personally thank them every time.” Roger scoffed, but Brian made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like he disagreed.

“It’s a show of good faith, we should at least shake hands with-” and he paused for a moment, brow furrowing, “what’d she say his name was again?”

“Doctor Reid, if I recall.” John piped up, and Brian shifted his weight, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, but what’s his first name? That sounds so formal, like, ‘Oh, can I grab you a beer Doctor Reid?’” He put on a voice, laughing at his own joke, looking to John, who just shrugged helplessly.

“August.” Roger’s voice is very quiet, hunched in on himself sitting in the back of the van. Brian frowns, leaning in a little, confused as to both how Roger has kept this for so long, and what the name actually was. “His name’s August.” Roger repeated, voice heavy but louder this time. Freddie freezes. “She calls him Gus.” He adds.

“You’re joking, right?” Freddie says into the uncertain silence, and that’s the moment that the back door comes crashing open and Ash comes out, grinning, hands in her pockets.

“Hey guys,” she grinned, nodding at them, not even sparing Roger a glace, “could I have my jacket back? You can drop the pants back tomorrow if you like.” Freddie turns to her, eyes wide, disbelieving smile still frozen almost painfully onto his face, not removing the oversized, blood red velour button down shirt Freddie had been wearing over a black singlet.

“Is that man we keep seeing Gus?” He asked, voice scarily neutral. None of the others had ever heard him like this, had barely heard Freddie genuinely angry like this, and Ash’s expression dropped.

“I’ve gotta go.” It’s not the answer any of them expect, nor is Ash turning on her heel and heading back into the pub before the door had even swung fully shut. Turning back to the band, they could all see that Freddie was livid.

“I’m going to gut the bastard. Gut him like a goddamn fish, I swear I will.” He seethed, hands curling and uncurling into fists, staring at the gravel. It was as if the air around him was snapping with the electricity of a storm. Looking up, all Freddie could see was how shocked the others were, even Roger, and he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to calm down.

“That’s the bastard that ruined her life.” He admitted through clenched teeth. “Roger’s fucking right, the man’s no good.” And Roger couldn’t even take the moment to bask in the vindication that would have usually surged through him at being told he was right, instead, his blood runs cold.

“He what?” Mary asked softly, and Freddie’s expression softened, looking finally between all of them, realising what he’d said.

“He’s the reason she was expelled from her last university, and...” Frowning, Freddie shakes his head. Brian, John, and Mary all took a moment to process this new information, shock written all over their faces. “It’s not my place,” and he started on a new strand of information, “he was her teacher, he started a clandestine affair with her when she started university, and,” pausing again, he sighed, the anger still clearly flowing through him, though it had simmered down to a bitter rage, “not my place.” He repeated.

“Doesn’t he have a wife and family? How old was she?” Brian asked, a little aghast, and Freddie sighed.

“She was eighteen.” Freddie sighed.

“She was a kid.” Roger breathed, anger bubbling up inside of him.

“Hey, that’s only a year younger than me.” John pointed out, but Roger turned on him.

“Oh, I’m sorry John, are you having an affair with one of your teachers that we need to stage an intervention for?” He snapped, and John’s face fell, and he looked to the ground.

“I’m just saying she was an adult is all, doesn’t make it right, but she can make her own choices.” He paused. “She seems happy.” Both Freddie and Roger deflated at that, they’re all quiet for a long moment, and without a word, Freddie heads inside.

“Ash.” When he says her name, she looks up with an expression that tells him she’s ready to fight.

“He’s different now, Freddie.” She tells him, already defending herself and the man who she knows in her heart probably doesn’t deserve it. Freddie was ready to fight him the moment he heard August’s name, and he didn’t even know the full story. Sure he could gather the impact it had on Ash, but he never really truly realised the effect August had on her.

“What does that mean, Ash? What exactly is keeping me from coming over here and beating him bloody with my microphone next time we play here?” Freddie asked, voice very serious. Pulling off her apron, Ash told Maureen, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, that she was knocking off for the night, which Maureen agreed to, and Ash walked around the bar and took Freddie’s hand.

“We’re not having this conversation here.” She hissed, pulling him into the staff bathroom and locking it behind them. “I love him.” She said through gritted teeth, crossing her hands over her chest, looking away. “And after everything I did, I think he still loves me too.”

“After everything you- Ash do you hear yourself?” Freddie takes a deep breath, steadying himself, holding her shoulders, “He start an affair with you, his student, refuse to be seen with you in public, and used his power within the faculty to kick you out of school when you wanted to stop-”

“I only wanted to stop because I found out he was engaged when his fiance found out about me!” Ash cried, as if it were somehow her fault. Freddie actually stepped back.

“Found out about you- He was engaged?!” He whispered, eyes wide and horrified. “Darling that’s nowhere near being your fault. He had a whole town calling you a slut and a homewrecker; he didn’t love you, he ran you out of Scotland.”

“He ran me out of Fife.” She spits back the correction. “I would know, I was there.” But she doesn’t seem to connect to the words he’s saying, it’s as if she’s replayed the events in her head so many times that she’s become desensitised to it. “But he’s changed, I was practically a kid last time, I’m different now too. And if he didn’t love me then,” she looks a little hurt as she says it, and Freddie doesn’t know if he wants to hug her or shake some sense into her, “well I think he does now.” After a beat she ducked her gaze, voice becoming a weary sigh as she leaned against the counter. “Listen, Freds, I’ll keep him out of the bar, you won’t have to see him, but this is my life.”

“Don’t make the same mistake again-”

“He’s told me that Kira’s his ex-fiance, so I don’t think she’ll be a problem.” Ash rolled her eyes at Freddie, who opened his mouth to protest that that wasn’t the point, but she added. “Can you get Roger to shut up? I’m sick of hearing him bitching.”

“Did something happen between you two?” Is what Freddie finally finds himself asking.

“I could get used to this.” Roger grins at her when she brings him a cup of tea in the warm light of the late morning, a book under one of her arms. She keeps using the mug with the cat faces on it for him, he’s started calling it ‘his mug’ and maybe she’s started calling it that too in her mind.

“Yeah, well don’t. You can get your own tea next time.” Ash laughed, sitting up beside in bed, cradling her own tea in one hand, pulling out the book with the other.

“Just show me where everything is, I think I could manage.” Roger chuckles, putting his free arm around her where she’s sat back against the headboard. “What are you reading?” Looking at him with a little surprise, Ash smiles slightly, taking a big gulp of tea, putting the mostly full cup on the bedside table before tucking herself against him, opening up the book.

“I found it in the common room, it’s one of those trashy romance novels,” after a beat, she closed the book, keeping her place with her finger, showing him the cover, where a woman was posing sensuously with a hand on a beautifully painted horse, “but I think she fucks the horse.” Roger snorts at that, his arm tightening around her just a little.

He doesn’t have an answer, just laughs, reading with her when she opens the book back up. It’s soft and domestic, her head on his chest as they both read the novella, sipping their tea on occasion. The blinds are down, but there’s still stripes of light peeking through, hitting the floor with golden light and the room feels warm and hazy. They stay like that for a long while, Roger actually becomes rather engrossed in the story, and when Ash shifts to lean over and take a sip of her tea, he takes the book to read ahead a few lines. When she turns back, she just watches him for a moment, a fond smile slowly spreading over her face, and when he finally looks up, realised he was caught, she leans forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, sweet, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, and when she pulls back, he’s smiling back at her, a little confused.

“What was that for?” He grinned, and Ash shrugged, ducking her head to hide her blush.

“I dunno, maybe the book got me going.” She lied easily, and Roger’s expression turns a little unreadable, though it’s clear he doesn’t believe her.

“We weren’t even up to the hot part!” He countered, and Ash laughed, taking the book from him, but he stays holding it, lets himself be pulled with it until he’s meeting her for a kiss, his hand on her wrist when he lets go of the book to move up her arm and start sliding off her dressing gown. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Yeah, Ash had thought, I could get used to this.

“Hello, Ash?” In the present, Freddie waves a hand in front of her face. Ash’s expression soured as her chest began to ache.

“No, okay? Nothing happened between us, Freddie. Roger’s just being a bitch.”

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe @laueecakee@smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings@2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times@heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues @banhbao329 @fantasticchaoticwho @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi @mimisfangirlfantasy @aadjuric @rogmobile @cardybenhardy

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #freddie mercury #borhap imagine #brian may #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen #queen imagine #john deacon #ask your destiny to dance fic #mary austin #the angry lizard writes

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0nlywateristheriver · 5 years

Text

My Second Wife

Link to story with original pictures: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1O9-fjebl_2IBrzJxBdK0zVDJ04gQLD7zc6BzmBJLzDw/edit?usp=sharing

@doctor-of-fair-play

My Second Wife

@onlywateristheriver

After over a thousand years married to the woman, the Doctor had gotten the knack of pinpointing about where River was along her timeline, without the aid of their diaries. They had to have been married by now - she looked older than she had that day. As of yet, however, River didn’t seem to know her which, despite being a bit offensive, also offered the opportunity for a bit of fun…

“D’you know?“ the Doctor couldn’t help but have the corner of her mouth twitch into a smile just barely contained. River had pulled this on her once, though now she realized that River might have been talking about her. Timelines. “You remind me of m’second wife. Well, second proper wife… there were a few others just for the fun and the party. The resemblance, s’uncanny. Course, her hair’s a bit curlier, and she has this nasty habit of carrying ‘round weapons. Once shot m’hat! Very rude. Never carry ‘round weapons, makes you look weak,“ she paced around River, tapping a finger against her holster, “Naughty, naughty. And… this is the silly bit. She’s an archaeologist. Can you imagine it? Time travelin’ archaeologist. That’s cheatin’! Don’t you think that’s cheatin’?”

onlywateristheriver

River’s eyes narrowed as the woman in front of her went on about weapons and hats and archaeology. “I’ll have you know, archaeology is the best way to find some of the most precious things that would have otherwise been lost to time. I was lost when I went to university and becoming an archaeologist helped me to find the best thing in my life. Led me to it again and again. And saved my life and the life of those I love more than once, so don’t you go on about weakness and silliness and cheating.” River tutted.

doctor-of-fair-play

The best thing in my life. Did she mean…? The Doctor stood a little straighter, a curl of guilt moving inside her. She’d never really stopped to think, stopped to consider… Anthropology she could understand, she was a bit of an anthropologist herself, but archaeology? Climbing about in the dust, going through old scraps of papers and wisps of lives long since ended when all of it was there, within reach, when one was to just step past the barrier of time. Alive and real.

“M’sorry. I was just havin’ a bit of fun.” The Doctor pulled up a chair, leaning in a bit closer to her wife, “S’really important to you, isn’t it? S’not just a way of… Why though? When you can step out in the world, amongst the living, why limit yourself to fragments? S’a vortex manipulator, isn’t it?” the question didn’t sound very convincing, she barely even glanced down at it. “You could go back, see it all for yourself. Nothin’s really lost.”

onlywateristheriver

“I didn’t have this from the beginning. I was left on my own with nothing. I had to find my own way with nothing but my own will and determination. All I knew was that there was someone I needed to find. Someone who could be anywhere, anywhen. I was as weak as a kitten and as knowledgable as a newborn. But I grew up fast and I used what I had around me. Archaeology was the best way to find what I needed. It’s served me well.”

River leaned back in her chair and looked the woman up and down. “Why am I telling you any of this anyway?”

doctor-of-fair-play

“Just have one of those faces, people can’t help but talk when I’m around. Sometimes. Honestly, I’ve not the knack for it I used to.” It was probably the height. Or the breasts. The Doctor leaned forward, elbows on the table, and twirled her straw around the emptying glass.“And, I mean, m'also your husband and I’ve been dropping hints all night. So there’s that. Really, River, you’re usually quicker on the uptake. How many people d'you think have a time travelin’ archaeologist for a wife?”

onlywateristheriver

River stared for a good minute or two at the woman in front of her. It was the eyes that finally convinced her. “I never thought I’d see you again.” Slowly she smiled. “And I certainly never came across this in my research. How long has it been for you?”

doctor-of-fair-play

The Doctor waited for some reaction from River, trying to read the expressions that passed over her face. Eventually, River smiled and a smile brightened the Doctor’s face too. “Y’know me, m’like a bad penny.” Her smile wavered, the unwelcome memory of their last goodbye pressing into her mind. “Been a while on my end, haven’t seen you since a bit before I last regenerated - don’t think you’re there quite yet. M’two thousand and something if that’s any help?”

onlywateristheriver

“Two thousand? It has been a while then. For me as well. I haven’t seen you in probably a hundred years, maybe a hundred and fifty?” She tried to hide the sadness that always surfaced when she realized how long the Doctor had left her alone. She knew they couldn’t spend all of their time together, that was dangerous. But she still missed him, ‘her’ she corrected, terribly when they were apart.

“I’m glad you found a way to go on. I know you were worried that you were at the end.”

doctor-of-fair-play

“S’not what I was worried about. But you know me, never liked endings.“ She let out a slow breath, hands stuffed in her pockets, and looked inside the cafe. The light of the grimy fixtures shone a warm gold, and the clink of dishes and silverware, the murmur of voices could be distantly heard. It would be better to laugh, better to pretend they weren’t both moving towards a goodbye, than to stand out here in the rain speaking of things that couldn’t be changed. “Come have dinner with us. I think you’ll like them, m’friends. And there’s a lot of catchin’ up we have to do, you and me. All the bits we missed.“

onlywateristheriver

River took a deep breath and put on a smile she didn’t really feel. “Okay. Lead the way.”

doctor-of-fair-play

Slipping a hand into hers, the Doctor led her back into the cafe. The chill of the rainy evening faded as the door closed behind them, though the Doctor’s hair was dripping and her shirt was tight to her skin, sticking and cold. She gladly slipped back into the booth, as it was near to the faux fireplace in the corner which gave off a very real glow of warmth from glowing plastic logs. Humans, they couldn’t just stick a space heater in the corner. Very few races were so focused on the ‘atmosphere’ of a place.

“We got you both another round of hot chocolates,“ Graham said, holding one out to each of them. The Doctor took hers gratefully, wrapping icy fingers around the warmth of the mug. “I’m amazed you’re not half froze, standing out there.“

“So is one of you going to explain?“ Ryan asked. “I didn’t take you for the married sort, Doctor.”

Yaz gave him a nudge under the table with her foot - the Doctor knew this because she missed Ryan and caught the Doctor’s shin instead. “What he means is, we thought you’d have been around, River? We were just saying, we’re a bit surprised we haven’t met you before, that’s all.”

onlywateristheriver

So, they were going to hold hands then. They’d never actually done the couple-thing before. Not with anyone they actually knew personally outside of her parents and not even then, as her dad had always been a bit overprotective for the brief moments they’d had as dad and daughter. River found that she liked it very much. She didn’t release her wife’s hand even when the older man held out the hot chocolate for her. “Thank you.”

She turned to the girl. “Well, the Doctor and I have had such an interesting history, always meeting out of order. Has she told you about any of it?”

doctor-of-fair-play

No. The answer was ‘no’. She’d not said a word. So many names she never let past her lips, because it hurt too much, because she didn’t want to scare her new friends by letting on how many had been lost while she’d carried on. The Doctor, such a survivor. Always living while those she loved… Perhaps the tension showed - a tightness in her neck, an expression on her face - because Yaz seemed to understand and saved her. “I think we scared the Doctor off talking about personal things when she let on she was two thousand and we threatened her with two thousand birthday parties.”

A small look of confusion touched against Ryan’s face, for she’d once mentioned her age in passing but there had been no talk of parties, but he caught on after a moment, “Right yeah.“

“Love a good party, me,“ the Doctor said, feeling able to take a breath, “but so many candles. Don’t really want to be blamed for another fire - Rome was bad enough.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate. “Why don’t you tell them ‘bout the Byzantium, dear? That was a good one. This one decided the best was t’drop by the TARDIS would be to fling herself out another ship’s hatch.”

0nlywateristheriver

“Two thousand birthday parties? I don’t even think she’s ever had even one.” River nudged the Doctor with her shoulder. “Dad and I tried to throw him a surprise birthday party once. Mum was supposed to keep him occupied for a couple of hours. They didn’t come back for two days! He never could quite explain why, but I think Mum had let it slip somehow what we’d been planning.” River’s eyes got misty for a moment.

She gathered herself back together. “The Byzantium. Right. You were so young then.” She smiled at the Doctor then winked at Yaz. “He looked about twelve years old, and so easy to get all flustered. Particularly when I landed right on top of him when he pulled me into the TARDIS.”

#doctor-of-fair-play #rp #13 #river song

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gruvia-raid · 6 years

Text

The Strength in Frailty

Chapter 1: Unbreakable

AN: I wrote this story in 2014 but never got around to publishing it. But I just found it again so I thought why mot? This story is set in an AU and doesn't really follow the events in the manga as it was written so long ago and I haven't changed anything in it. I am not a doctor so bare with me LOL.

TW: Cancer and mentions of death

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Fairy Tail nor do I own it's characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima & Co. This story uses coarse language.

Also there is an ableist statement made by the character Bora. This statement in no way reflects the views and/or beliefs of the author. Bora is just a complete a$$ however. if this statement does offend anyone I will change it ASAP.

"I really think you should take a break."

"But Lucy-san, Juvia feels completely fine." Juvia Lockser a beautiful, blue-eyed, pale-skinned preschool teacher whined as her best friend and co-worker Lucy Heartfillia chastised her about taking a break from all the household chores she had tasked herself with.

"But your lungs might-" Lucy persisted before being cut off.

"Juvia is fine Lucy-san, she can handle a few chores. Besides Juvia believes she is getting better, her doctor told her she is making good progress." Juvia smiled. Yes the doctor did indeed say that she was making good progress, but he also said she shouldn't overwork herself as she could possibly collapse once more.

"But, still…" Lucy trailed off as she looked towards her friend worriedly. "You don't have to prepare lunch I can do it or….or we can go out for lunch."

"No, no, no Juvia will cook. Lucy-san is the guest here not Juvia and Lucy-san knows that Juvia doesn't like going out in public, if it's not work related nowadays." Juvia called as she entered the kitchen. Jeez that Lucy always getting nervous over the most trivial things, it's not like she going to run a marathon. Cooking and clean were her area of expertise, no way would she fall ill from something like this.

"Lucy-san forgot to tell Juvia how her date with Natsu-san went." She said as she knew as soon as the topic changed to herself, Lucy would forget all about the previous conversation.

"Ah, oh yes. It started off in a really….unNatsu like way. He was being all gentlemanly, then when it came to the actual eating proportion he was back to his old sel-"

CRASH

"JUVIA!" Lucy cried as she practical sprinted into the kitchen. In there was a sight she had seen many a times, but would never get used too.

There, was Juvia on the floor heaving like there was no tomorrow. And no, it wasn't because she had seen her really hot doctor.

The last thing Juvia heard before she delved into a world of darkness, were the muffled sounds of an ambulance.

St. Vermillion Hospital was bustling as always with people today, as he arrived. It always gave off the smell of sterilizer and almost dead people to the young male doctor.

Gray Fullbuster a young and don't forget handsome, oncologist walked into his workplace with the same facial expression as always. A scowl. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his line of work, no, in fact he loved it. But hospitals always had a dreary atmosphere. 'Cause either someone had died, was going to die or they felt like they were dying. He rolled his eyes.

What kind of stupid expression was that anyway? Who the hell knew what dying felt like, even if you experienced near death it isn't death. Hence no one knows what it felt like. Correction no one alive knew what it felt like.

"Gray!" The beautiful head nurse Mirajane Strauss called as she beckoned said man over. "Good, you're finally here. Natsu wanted to see you."

"What does the flame idiot want now?" The man inquired as he strolled to the front desk.

"I think it has something to do with one of your patients being admitted." Mira assumed as she scrolled through the day's admittance list.

Gray frowned. "One of my patients were readmitted?" He questioned.

"Yes, um… Miss Juvia Lockser. She came in around 12:50pm, while you were out for lunch."

Gray tsked. Of course she'd be admitted while he was out for lunch. That women never failed with her surprise visits. And why was it Natsu of all people who had to treat her? Now he had to go talk to the flame bastard.

"Alright Thanks, Mira."

"That's what I'm here for. Later Gray" she smiled as she waved him off.

"Oi, Flame Brain" Gray knocked on Natsu Dragneel's a fellow oncologists who specialized more in radioactive oncology, door. He was also Gray's best friend/rival/asshole. Ew not Gray's asshole you pervs, he was just an asshole in general.

The door suddenly flew open, revealing the pink-haired 'idiot'. "What do you want Ice Princess? I'm busy." Natsu Roared. What the hell did this bastard want? Didn't he tell him that no disturbance shall come when he was in 'eating mode'?

Gray rolled his eyes as he peered over Natsu shoulder to expose a desk piled high with cafeteria food and a flustered Lucy Heartfillia sitting on the sofa.

"Ugh, Hi Gray." she nervously uttered. It was sort of awkward. One minute she was crying over Juvia then the next she was whisked into Natsu office to have a very intense make out session. Now Gray interrupts and had seen her in her disheveled stated, with her messy hair, smudged lipstick and a rolled up shirt.

"Hey Lucy." He spoke before turning to Natsu "Busy with what? Trying to woo her with how much food you can fit in your pie hole? 'Cause let me tell yah, that's very unattractive."

"Shut the fuck up Stripperella. I said WHAT. DO. YOU. FUCKING. WANT?"

"Why don't you quiet the fuck down we are in a fucking hospital. For fuck's sake. And you're the one who called me. Something about my patient?"

At that Natsu calmed down, what he wanted to say was a bit upsetting for the women in his office. "Can we talk in your office?" Gray nodded. "I'll be right back Luce, just gunna talk to Gray for a sec, kay?"

"Um, al-alright." Lucy spoke, still a little baffled at the way the doctors in this hospital used the word 'fuck' so loosely.

Shutting the door behind him, Natsu walked two doors down towards Gray's office. It was a bit disorganized with files and clothes littered all over the place, and Natsu thought that his office was bad. Gray's office, much to Natsu chagrin, was nicer than his own, but only because Gray had worked there longer. The walls were burgundy, the mahogany future matching it with a glossy finish. There was a large ceiling to floor window on one wall, which had an abundance of light filtering through, in front of it was a grand desk and chair. On another wall, two long sofas were organized around a glass coffee table which faced a large flat screen t.v. The adjoined wall featured all of Gray's degrees and plaques in both university and medical school. The entire room had a pine tree meets ice berg scent to tie it all together. To conclude Gray's office would be amazingly professional if it weren't for his underwear all over the place.

"Okay, so about your patient Juvia Lockser. She….she isn't doing so well."

A shallow hospital light came into view as Juvia's eyes fluttered open. It took her mind a second to register that she was no longer in her home chatting with Lucy, as she noticed the multiple IVs, electrodes and an oxygen mask coving her nose and mouth.

"Afternoon sleepy head." A husky voice she knew all too well said as he walked through the door.

Removing the mask, "Hello Dr. Fullbuster, what is Juvia doing here?" she queried with a groggy voice.

"Well," Gray started. "It seems you collapsed once again Juvia"

"Oh"

"And I suspect that it was from overworking yourself."

"But Juvia wasn't-"

"Did you attend work today?"

"Yes but-"

"And did you do any sort of unnecessary housework?"

"Juvia only cooked and cleaned but-"

"Juvia," Gray sighed. "How many times must I tell you not to overwork yourself?" he lectured.

"But Juvia's house was filthy a-and she had a guest over so…" she trailed off knowing her excuse was inadequate as the doctor gave her a challenging look.

"I understand that you are a germaphobe however, there are such things as maid services and I'm pretty sure Lucy could have cooked instead, you also could've either ordered something or went out. There were so many options, so why must you always burden yourself?" He nagged as he began to do a routine checkup.

Gray didn't mean to lecture Juvia. He meant well, as her doctor and friend he had her best interests at heart. But the damn woman didn't or maybe couldn't comprehend the fact that she was in no condition to do all these exhausting tasks. If anything, it was her own fault that she was getting worse rather than better. This still troubled Gray however, he quite liked Juvia and if she kept this up he wouldn't be able to help her.

You see, Juvia had a severe condition of Lung cancer. She was admitted as Gray's patient a bit over a year ago when she first collapsed from lack of oxygen, and has been in and out of the hospital ever since. At first Gray was indifferent towards her but a few months later he began to open up to her, as he would a friend. In all honesty it was pretty hard being professional anyway, this girl was always smiling and cheerful anyone would feel at ease with her. It was almost impossible not to laugh when she laughed, and Gray barely laughed, only smiled and chuckled. But her entire being was just so...preciou-infectious, yes infectious.

Gray's thoughts were soon interrupted by a muffled cough. "So, Dr. Fullbuster how is Juvia?"

Gray tried to keep an impassive face but Juvia could see pity and sorrow within his navy blue orbs.

"Well" He ran a hand through his chaotic raven hair. "Not that great Juvia. Your tumor seems to have become malignant meaning it has broken off into your bloodstream. At this point it could be possible that another organ is also infected." He answered as he looked over Juvia.

"Oh, Okay." Was all she could muster.

"However, we will still continue with your chemo treatment and medication as per usual. But I would like to keep you for a bit longer so that I may run a few tests." He explained, waiting for any type reaction from Juvia. But all she did was smile and nod. How the actual fuck can the woman just smile and fricking nod when someone just told her that her condition was way worse than it was two months ago.

"Juvia understands doctor, she appreciates Dr. Fullbuster's hard work" And there she goes again, freaking smiling. Was there petroleum jelly on her teeth or something? Is that's why she can't stop showing those pearly whites or…? He didn't think anyone could smile after being told that they were basically dying. Even if her cheerfulness was infectious, he couldn't help but be irritated at her reaction or lack thereof.

"Well Juvia, I will be back to start the test after I finish my rounds. Please try and gets some rest until I come back." And with that he left. All she had now was an empty room and her thoughts.

The room she was given was a bit smaller than her last one. Granted the previous one was a double, whereas this was a single. The walls were all a pristine white, to the point where staring too long would burn and the floor was covered with a wall to wall grey carpet. To her left was a large window, with a view of what she assumed was a garden, and two comfy looking chairs around a short coffee table. And the wall south of her bed had a small flat screen t.v. It would seem that she was moving up within the hospital scene 'cause her room was pretty deluxe.

The room was eerily silent though as the t.v. was turned off and she was alone. It was boring, so to speak, literally nothing was happening. She wanted to get up and jog, do some yoga, some chores, shopping, anything rather than lie there in bed. But, her stupid lungs just had to be weak.

It was just her luck that the only thing she inherited from her father's side of family was cancer. Out of all things she had to be sick with, it had to be cancer. As if her life wasn't screwed up enough. Bora her boyfriend or rather ex-boyfriend broke up with her since he didn't "want to be tied down by some handicap because that was depressing" Seriously who in fucks sake says that to someone, he was such a douche. Then she almost lost her job because she was "missing too many days of work". That wasn't her fucking fault it was her father's, excuse her language. Last but certainly not least a year ago she lost her mother to a plane crash and now she, herself was dying. Her life was just one big joke huh? It was like the universe just hated her all of a sudden. Nevertheless, she always put on a brave face for everyone, she didn't want to go back to the days when everyone called her gloomy and depressing.

On second thought, she was glad she was alone, she could finally stop withholding those tears.

AN: Thanks for reading the first chapter guys I really appreciate it. Sorry if there were any spelling or grammar mistakes, as I said this was written awhile ago and I only skimmed it. I really suck at proof reading my own work so hopefully it was ok. But anyways, I plan to make this story 4-5 chapters long maybe 6 but no longer than that. Chapter 2 is ready and chapter 3 is 85% done. I don't know if you guys could tell but this my first story so I really hope you guys liked it. Well, Tata for now, see you next chapter (hopefully)!

#fairy tail #Juvia Lockser #juvia loxar #gray fullbuster #Gray X Juvia #fairy tail juvia #fairy tail gray #gruvia #gruvia au #fairy tail fanfic #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #Ezra Scarlet #theraiderwrites

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class-xyznotes · 3 years

Text

Unit 6 In Spite of War Angela Morgan English NotesClass 10

Unit 6 In Spite of War Angela Morgan English Notes Class 10 KPK, Fbise, Punajb and Sindh textbook boards jamshro short question and answer, vocubalry, grammar, and Writing skills.

Unit 6 In Spite of War Angela Morgan

Unit 6 In Spite of War Angela Morgan English Notes Class 10 Angela Morgan English NotesClass 10 KPK Textbook Board A. Answer the following questions. Q1: What are the things that thrive despite the ravages of war? Ans: According to the poem Lilacs, Tulip, Daisy, Pansies, and gardens are the things that thrive despite the ravages of war. Q2: What are some of the different words and images used in the poem that convey the emotions of loss? Ans: Death, Suffering, Hate, War, Despair, Guns roaring, Cannon boom, and Nightmares are the words and images which convey the emotions of loss. Q3: In the poem “In spite of war”, there are several examples of personification. Identify two examples of personification: explain what is being personified and how? Ans: In the poem “In spite of war”, there are several examples of personification, but the two examples are as under: When pansies lift their eyes to mine. - Tulips are tripping down the path. - In both examples, the poetess has given human qualities to non-human things. Q4: Make a list of the words that tell you about the tone of the poem ‘In spite of war’ and explain how those words tell us what the tone is. Use examples from the poem to back up your reasoning. Ans: The tone of the poem is optimistic. The poetess says that despite the war & destruction, everything in nature is going normal. Life continues as usual. The following words tell us about the tone. Laugh, Sings, Courage, Rejoice, Blooming of flowers, Glory, and gardens. Q5: What is the theme of the poem ‘In spite of war’? Ans: The main theme of the poem is very simple. The poetess encourages us to look at the beauty around us rather than focus on the negative aspect of our lives. She says that in spite of war & other negative things, life continues as nothing was happening. B. Choose the correct option. - (a) Natural beauty - (c) Personification - (d) Onomatopoeia - (d) Ecstasy & elation - (a) Optimistic

KPK Grade 10 English Notes Chapter 6 ( in spite of war ) Updated 2021

Newly updated class 10 English notes Chapter 6 ( in spite of war ) up to date 2021 for all Pakistan boards pdf download textbook boards notes. What are the things that thrive despite the ravages of war?According to the poetess, despite the devastating effects of war on life, there are flowers (lilacs, morning glory, pansies, tulips, roses poppies) and gardens that thrive and grow and thus become a continuous source of adding into the beauty of nature.What are some of the different words and images used in the poem that convey the emotion of loss?Some of the different words and images used in the poem that convey the emotion of loss are: death and despairIn the poem “In Spite of War”, there are several examples of personification. Identify two examples of personification: explain what is being personified and how in each example.Examples of Personification with Explanation: (1) When pansies lift their eyes to mine. In this example, pansies are personified with a human in a way that as humans can see and lift their eyes similarly the pansies personified as an individual life their eyes to the poetess. (2) The clouds are romping with the sea In this example, the clouds are personified as a playful child or animal. The clouds in a cherished mood are playing with the sea just like kids like to play with their mates when they are in a happy mood.Make a list of the words that tell you about the tone of the poem ‘In spite of War’ and explain how those words tell us what the tone is. Use examples from the poem to back up your reasoning.The tone of the poem is all about the pessimistic and optimistic approach towards various factors of life. In every stanza of the poem, the poetess first talks about the negative elements of death, wrath, despair, and hate, and then she advises the readers to forget the bitterness of life with the sweetness of courage, rejoice, and merriment. The rhyming scheme that is followed throughout the poem is the same i.e. AABB for instance; In spite of war, in spite of hate Lilacs are blooming at my gate, Tulips are tripping down the path In spite of war, in spite of wrath. On the other hand, in the first and last stanza, the rhyming scheme is of ADBC for example; In spite of war, in spite of death, In spite of all man's sufferings, Something within me laughs and sings And I must praise with all my breath.What is the theme of the poem ‘In spite of War’?The theme of the poem is of hope, courage and merriment even in the times of distress, death, wrath, despair and shame. The poetess is encouraging the readers that they should focus more on the positive aspects of life rather than on the negative ones. Worries and merriment are the part of life, it just depend upon the way how each person view it either pessimistically or optimistically.

Vocabulary Class 10 English Notes KPK

Q.1) Read the poem “In Spite of War” and make a list of words that evoke positive emotions and the others that evoke negative emotions. Answer: Words that Evoke Positive Emotions: (i) laughs (ii) sings (iii) courage (iv) rejoice (v) fair (vi) torch (vii) ecstasy Words that Evoke Negative Emotions: (i) death (ii) man's sufferings (iii) hate (iv) wrath (v) shame (vi) nightmare

Writing Skills KPK Textbook Boards

Q.1) Write the summary of the poem, “In spite of War" in your own words. Answer: In this poem, Angela Morgan was describing the relationship between the devastating war and the positive role of nature. She was emphasizing on the bare fact that though war cast a horrible impact on the lives of the people but the things in nature did not bother about all the devastating effects of war. In spite of war, there was still some positivity breathing in the souls of the people that made them feel good and relax. This was just due to the elements of nature that were present around us with all their beauty and warmth. Although it was the time of hatred and death, suffering and bearing, harshness and bitterness, still the flowers did not forget to bloom, the gardens never said goodbye to their beauty and charm. The clouds were still roaming, the energetic waves of the sea were still there to welcome the guests. All the elements of nature were stimulating a positive light and warmth in the distressed souls of the war-stricken mankind. Angela was motivating her readers that though they were facing the worst and the toughest time of their life, they must not forget that life has to move forward, time is the best healer that helps us to erase the harsh memories from our minds. So, people should regain their lost strength with positive thoughts and by cherishing the natural beauty that is spread around them to welcome the distressed souls. Q.2) Paraphrase the following stanza. “Courage!” the morning-glory saith; “Rejoice!” the daisy murmureth, And just to live is so divine When pansies lift their eyes to mine. Answer: Reference: This stanza has been taken from the poem “In spite of War” written by Angela Morgan. Context: This poem has the element of motivation that one should not feel distressed under the bitter circumstances of war. Rather than that, people should think and feel positive by looking at and cherishing the beauty of nature that was spread around them. People should take inspiration from flowers, clouds, sea waves that did not take care of the devastating effects of the war but were blooming and roaming with all their beauty. Paraphrase: The morning glory said that one should face all the stressed moments with courage and bravery. Similarly, the daisy murmured that one should rejoice and cherish. The moment when the pansies looked at me by lifting their eyes, they gave a message that one should love to live his life to the fullest as it a divine blessing for which we must always be thankful.

Grammar Class 10 English KPK Textbook board

Q.1) Underline the adjective phrases in the following sentences. (i) Have you ever seen an elephant with a white skin? (ii) He was wearing a crown made of gold. (iii) There I met a girl with blue eyes. (iv) Wild beasts in small cages are a sorry sight. (v) Aman with a long beard came to see me. Answer: (i) Have you ever seen an elephant with a white skin? (ii) He was wearing a crown made of gold. (iii) There I met a girl with blue eyes. (iv) Wild beasts in small cages are a sorry sight. (v) Aman with a long beard came to see me. Q.2) In each of the following sentences replace the adjective in bold letters by an adjective phrase of the same meaning, The first one has been done. (i) The King wore a golden crown. (ii) It is a white elephant. (iii) He lived in a stone house. (iv) There was an earthen pot on the table. (v) She wore a diamond necklace. (vi) That was a brave act. Answer: (i) The King wore a crown made of gold. (ii) It is an elephant that has white skin. (iii) He lived in a house made of stones. (iv) There was a pot on the table that was made of earthen clay. (v) She wore a necklace that had a diamond in it. (vi) That was an act of bravery. Q.3) Underline the adjective clause in the following sentences and circle the word it modifies. (i) I like a leader who listens to his people. (ii) The dog which | loved dearly was hit by a truck last night. (iii) Rasheed is a person who takes responsibility well. (iv) Ghazala is the one for whom you are looking. (v) The shirt that you bought me doesn’t fit well. Answer: (i) I like a leader who listens to his people. (ii) The dog which I loved dearly was hit by a truck last night. (iii) Rasheed is a person who takes responsibility well. (iv) Ghazala is the one for whom you are looking. (v) The shirt that you bought me doesn’t fit well. Q.4) Combine each of the following pairs of simple sentences into one complex sentence containing an adjective clause. The first one has been done. (i) The theft was committed last night. The police has caught the man. (ii) You are looking upset. Can you tell me the reason? (iii) He had several plans for making money quickly. All of them have failed. (iv) This is is the village. I was born here. (v) You put the keys somewhere. Show me the place. Answer: (i) The police have caught the man who committed the theft last night. (ii) Can you tell me the reason why you are looking upset? (iii) All of his plans failed that he made for making money quickly. (iv) This is the village where I was born. (v) Show me the place where you put the keys. Related Post: - UNIT 02 THE CHAMPIONS CLASS 10 ENGLISH NOTES - UNIT 03 POEM DREAMS LANGSTON HUGHES - UNIT 04 POPULATION GROWTH AND ITS IMPACT ON ENVIRONMENT” - UNIT 05 “THE GREAT MASJID OF CORDOBA & IQBAL” CLASS 10 NOTES - UNIT 6 IN SPITE OF WAR ANGELA MORGAN ENGLISH NOTESCLASS 10 - UNIT 07 THE AGED MOTHER ENGLISH NOTES CLASS 10 - UNIT 08 WOMEN ROLE IN THE PAKISTAN MOVEMENT - UNIT 09 POEM EQUIPMENT EDGAR GUEST - UNIT 10 WATER SCARCITY IN PAKISTAN - UNIT 11 GENETICALLY MODIFIED ORGANISMS (GMOS) - UNIT 12 THEY HAVE CUT DOWN THE PINES MARY LISLE - UNIT 13 HAZRAT UMAR (RA) CLASS 10 ENGLISH NOTES - UNIT 14 THE MODEL MILLIONAIRE CLASS 10 NOTES - UNIT 15 POEM OPPORTUNITY WALTER MALONE STANZA COMPREHENSION Class 10 English Notes KPK - STANZA COMPREHENSION POEM 1 dream LANGSTON HUGHES CLASS 10 - STANZA COMPREHENSION POEM 2 IN SPITE OF WAR CLASS 10 - STANZA COMPREHENSION POEM 3 EQUIPMENT EDGAR GUEST CLASS 10 - STANZA COMPREHENSION POEM 4 THEY HAVE CUT DOWN THE PINES MARY LISLE CLASS - STANZA COMPREHENSION POEM 5 OPPORTUNITY WALTER MALONE CLASS 10 PARAPHRASES OF POEM Class 10 English Notes KPK - PARAPHRASES OF POEM DREAMS CLASS 10 ENGLISH NOTES - PARAPHRASES OF POEM 2 IN SPITE OF WAR CLASS 10 ENGLISH NOTES - PARAPHRASES OF POEMS 3 EQUIPMENT CLASS 10 ENGLISH NOTES - PARAPHRASES OF POEM 4 THEY HAVE CUT DOWN THE PINES CLASS 10 ENGLISH NOTES - PARAPHRASES OF POEM 5 OPPORTUNITY CLASS 10 ENGLISH NOTES English Essay Class 10th KPK Textbook board Peshawar Visit Now Read the full article

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Unit 6 In Spite of War Angela Morgan English NotesClass 10

Unit 6 In Spite of War Angela Morgan English Notes Class 10 KPK, Fbise, Punajb and Sindh textbook boards jamshro short question and answer, vocubalry, grammar, and Writing skills.

Unit 6 In Spite of War Angela Morgan

KPK Grade 10 English Notes Chapter 6 ( in spite of war ) Updated 2021

Vocabulary Class 10 English Notes KPK

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Grammar Class 10 English KPK Textbook board

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