#marigold for despaired love OBVIOUSLY. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slippinmickeys · 4 years ago

Text

Five Seconds (7/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here.

October 23, 2018

Scully was in labor. At least, she thought she might be. She hadn’t been sure, but in the last hour she was now more certain, though her contractions were eons apart. The timing was obviously less than ideal. She was two weeks short of her due date, and when they had pulled off the state highway to the road that led to the cabin, she began hoping for a miracle -- what kind of miracle, she wasn't sure -- that the cabin was spacious and clean and up to date with a fully staffed Labor and Delivery wing? That someone would come and whisk them away to safety? She worried about preeclampsia, prolonged labor. She worried she might need a C-section. She worried she wouldn’t be able to do it.

In Virginia, the mid-morning sun would light up their bedroom like a hot set, dust motes floating through the spotlight of the shine and even the greys that now peppered Mulder’s temples would be lost in the chocolate ganache luster of his hair as he laid in their bed. That was where she wanted to be, laboring to bring this new child into the world -- in the bright, soft light of their bedroom, with Mulder kneading the labor pain out of her back as she kneeled on all fours in the rumple of their king-sized bed. Not here. Not amongst the pines and the cawing of crows. Not in a little bed in a musty-smelling shack with the pictures of people on the wall that were unfamiliar and long dead. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen at all.

William was again fiddling with his improvised hockey stick; he always fiddled with something when he was anxious, a nervous tick picked up when he was little. She remembered him crawling into bed with them when he was five, a thunderstorm outside or a bad dream. He would tuck himself into Scully's side, and she'd tilt her head until her cheek rested against the hard round of his skull, breathing in the inky smell of his wiry hair, his compact little body tight against her. He had Mulder's long, elegant feet and piano playing fingers, and he would play with the buttons on her pajamas and suck his thumb and rub his face into Moo, the stuffed cow, the fur of which was worn and well-loved and smelled like his sleepy breath. How she'd longed for those days as the kids had gotten older. How she worried for this new little one coming into this particular world.

Evening was falling outside, the long light through the pines running shadows through the small windows of the cabin.

"Will, can you throw another log in the stove?" she asked. The cabin was cooling quickly and Mulder and Lily would be back at any time and probably chilled right through.

"Sure, Mom," said Will, setting down his stick and moving to the potbellied stove, slipping on the worn and singed oven mitt that one needed to wear to grab the handle to open the small door. He threw in a couple pieces of wood until the flame began to roar, licking up the black sides of the feed chamber. He closed it and gave her a smile, looking at her kindly. "Are you okay, Mom?"

She could feel what she took to be a contraction coming on slowly; they were still pretty far apart and not yet at the stage where she would disappear inside of herself to get through the pain.

"I'm-"

The door to the cabin opened then, and Mulder and Lily stumbled in, rubbing their hands together and griping about the cold.

Mulder came over to her and kissed her forehead gently, his lips cool from being outside. He smelled of fresh air and woodsmoke and rubbed his hands up and down her arms once.

"How'd it go?" she asked, ignoring the growing pressure on her womb.

"Okay," Mulder gave her a clipped smile. "I got in touch with the guys, but the connection was terrible. Looks like Darlene will be okay. Otherwise, not much information was relayed one way or the other. We'll try again tomorrow."

She nodded at him. By tomorrow they would likely need to request some kind of medical help. Not sure who they could contact or who they could trust, she tried her best not to despair. She thought of her first labor, with Lily, how Mulder had stayed up with her all night. The drive to the hospital in the dark hours -- the forgotten sandwich on their dashboard, his face and how it looked each time a streetlight flashed upon it.

William's labor had been long and scary -- full of complications and made worse by the fact that Mulder wasn't with her. But she remembered when they placed the baby on her chest, the warm little bundle of him so much heavier than he looked. She remembered how his skin was still purple and mottled. She remembered his serious little eyes and his sweet grasping hand, the damp curled wisp of his marigold hair.

She had gotten through that. She could get through this. With Mulder beside her, sometimes she felt as if she could do anything.

"I'm going to heat up some water," Mulder said, and she could hear him trying to infuse his voice with optimism, "make some soup."

She smiled at him. Nodded. She knew she should eat something and try to get some rest. There was still time, she told herself, there was still time.

XxX

She had actually fallen asleep. After eating a bit of the soup, she'd lain down and closed her eyes and when she opened them, she was met with nearly absolute darkness. Only the glow from the small window of the feeder door on the stove issued forth any light, but it was paltry and she could still barely see her hand in front of her face.

She was alone in the small bed and could hear the heavy breathing of Mulder and their children from the bunk room. He must have decided to leave her be when she'd fallen asleep, and she was grateful. The tightening pain around her middle had awoken her and it squeezed until she gasped. It took her by such surprise that she almost didn't hear the scraping at the door of the cabin, the thump that followed.

She looked up just as the door to the cabin burst inward and she was blinded by a flash of light. She heard the action of a pistol cocking back.

“Do not move,” said an accented voice laced with venom.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily didn’t know what was happening.

She awoke in darkness and chaos -- to the scraping of furniture in the beam of a flashlight, her father's harsh swearing and the smell of apocrine sweat.

"Dad?!" called Will, and Lily heard the harsh sound of a blow to a body followed by a grunt. More scraping, the sound of a struggle and then a gunshot rang out. Lily jumped so high, she found herself standing.

“Mulder!” her mother cried.

“Everyone okay?!” from their father.

"Shut UP," hissed a voice thick with accent, and everything stopped. The beam of light finally stopped swaying and fell on her father, who was wincing and touching a hand to his lip, which he pulled away to look at -- the crimson smear of blood like neon in the light.

The generator hummed on the other side of the wall, the only sound in the silence that followed. And then Lily heard a scrape and the overhead light was switched on, blinding her momentarily. When she pried her eyes open again, she took everything in; a grizzled man with a long nose and close-set eyes stood in the open doorway of the cabin, his cheek red and swollen, pointing a gun at her father, her mother just behind him, sitting on the cot near the stove. Her brother was standing just beside where she stood in the bunk room, his eyes wide in shock.

The gunman turned to look in her direction, then nodded his head at her parents.

"Both of you," he said, "in here, now."

She and Will, both a bit dazed, made their way silently to their parents, where their father reached an arm out and pushed them behind himself.

“You guys okay?” he whispered.

"Weapons," the gunman said. Their parents traded a look, and Mulder moved the few steps to the kitchen, where Scully's Sig was sitting on the kitchen counter. The gunman took a step closer to them all and aimed his gun directly at Will, who inhaled sharply.

"Easy," her father said, and ejected the clip from Scully's gun and handed them both to the man, who examined the pistol closely before shoving the gun and clip into a pocket in the back of his pants.

"Where's the other one?" the man asked.

"Left it downstate," Mulder said, raising both hands. "That's all we have."

“Lift up your shirt,” the man said, and Mulder did as he asked, turning around to show he wasn’t armed.

The man narrowed his eyes and then looked about the room, his gaze coming to rest on the rifle that was perched on the deer rack on the far wall.

"Get that down," the man said, "bring it over here."

Mulder, moving slowly, carefully and purposefully pulled one of the old chairs from the small dining table over to the deer head and attempted to lift the rifle from where it rested. It wouldn't move. He pulled harder.

"It's wired on," he said, "it won't budge."

The gunman took a moment and moved his jaw around, assessing.

"Then leave it," he finally said, "that thing hasn't fired in twenty years."

Mulder stepped down off the chair and moved back, putting himself, once again, between his family and the gunman, who glanced at his watch. Then, keeping his eyes on the Mulder family, reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He fiddled with it for a moment and then swore.

Her father, in his most soothing voice, said, "There's no signal here."

The man shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Doesn't matter," he said, checking his watch again. Then, he pointed the barrel of the gun briefly at the dining table. "You three, sit there."

Mulder didn't move, and Lily and her brother both looked to him. Lily didn't want to do anything without his okay, and the moment was tense as a piano string.

"Mulder," her mother finally said shakily. Her father looked to his wife and she looked back. Finally, Mulder moved to sit at the dining table, and Will and Lily followed, gingerly sitting down.

The gunman took a step toward Scully and Lily felt her father tense next to her.

"So," the man said, pointing at her pregnant belly, "the miracle child." He pronounced it like meericle . "You have been a hard woman to find."

Scully said nothing.

"What's your name?" Mulder asked from the table, drawing the gunman's attention.

The man stood for a moment, his eyes blank. Finally, he said, "Luis."

“Luis, what are your intentions for my family?”

The man looked at him. “For now, nothing. For now, we wait.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

The wind picked up as the day wore on, rattling the windows and pushing at the outside of the cabin in a dull roar. She had not had a contraction for an hour, and the last few had been dull. Perhaps it was Braxton Hicks after all.

She thought how fitting it was to be at a hunting camp when, for the last nine months, she’d felt like prey. Every day the fear would work at her, wending its way through her veins like ichor.

The man who held them, Luis, didn’t talk much. He sat by the door, silent and grave, with one hand wrapped around the handle of his Glock. He would check his watch occasionally and scowl. Every now and then he would pace. Eventually he let the kids go into the bunk room, obviously not thinking them much of a threat. He was waiting for backup of some sort, and the only thing Scully thought was at least it was buying them time. Time for what, she wasn’t sure.

Scully looked at her children through the room’s doorway, sitting next to each other on a bunk and was reminded of the old adage: “to have a child is to give fate a hostage.”

"Luis, do you have children?" Scully asked the man before her, her voice like a bell peeling through the silence of the cabin. She could tell she had surprised him. He looked at her for a long moment but did not answer. He looked away.

She thought perhaps if she connected with him he might be reasoned with, but he was cold, his mood foul.

Scully reached for Mulder’s hand and held on tight.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The intense heat coming off the wood burning stove in the main area of the cabin did little to heat the bunk room. Lily and William sat together on one of the lower bunks, taking solace in both proximity and shared warmth.

The man, Luis, stood in the center of the room. His nose was bleeding less now, but his face was swollen and red, and he seemed to get angrier with every passing minute.

Their mother was standing, leaning against the back of one of the kitchen chairs. She looked miserable. Their father was sitting in one of the other kitchen chairs, eyes swinging perpetually back and forth between the gunman and his wife. He was as tense as a coiled spring, and Lily worried he would make a move that would get him shot. Luis still had the gun trained on him.

In the tumult of the attack at Darlene's house and their ensuing escape north, Lily had forgotten about the cell phone that Darlene had given her. When she found it later, she left it off and shoved it deep into her go-bag.

“I have a phone in my backpack,” Lily finally said to her brother in a whisper.

He turned his head sharply to look at her.

“What?” he kept his voice low, “I thought Dad left them all out in the car.”

Lily’s eyes remained on the mercenary and her parents, but none of them turned toward where the kids sat in the bunk room. Lily suspected that they couldn’t hear them over the roaring, crackling fire in the stove and the wind pushing at the cabin from outside.

“He did,” she said, “I have another. Darlene gave it to me.”

“You have a burner?” Will said earnestly, his eyes round and his look impressed.

Will’s eyes suddenly took on disappointment.

“There’s no way we’re getting a signal. Dad had to go all the way out to the road and even then he said service was shoddy.”

“So we go to the road,” Lily said, shooting looks into the other room.

“How?” Will hissed, his nerves finally catching up to him. “Just stroll past the pissed off merc with a gun?”

Lily shook her head and pointed toward the far corner of the bunk room, to where a few bits of leaves had blown in from outside.

“We wait until Mom has to pee again and then we go through the wall,” she whispered. The man had been letting their heavily pregnant mother use the outhouse, but he always took their father with them and held the gun on him outside while she used the facilities. He padlocked the kids in the cabin when he did so. Lily could see the fading autumn light coming through a crack in the far corner. The wall was weak with age and weather.

“You have some Hulk powers I don’t know about?” Will said.

“Look Will, the sun is shining through it. I’m betting money the wood is totally rotted out,” she said, “we move two boards and we could both fit through there.”

Will looked skeptical.

“I don’t want to leave Mom,” he said.

Lily reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Listen,” she said, “if we take ourselves out of the equation, Dad has a much better chance of protecting her. If he doesn’t have to worry about us, maybe he can do something.”

Will bit his lip, thinking.

“You think?” he said.

“Yes,” Lily hissed, sensing him coming around to her way of thinking. “Go put on another sweatshirt and whatever else you have in your bag. We can hike out to the road and get a signal. Call for help. But it’s going to be cold.”

The cold was already pushing at them from the outside walls of the bunk room.

She slipped off the bed and over to her bag, quietly pulling out the winter hat that she’d had wrapped around the phone. It was a cheap little Nokia -- old and barely capable of texting -- but Darlene had given it to her for a reason. Hopefully it had held a charge well; she’d kept it switched off. She wouldn’t turn it on until they were out by the road. She hoped like hell the archaic little thing could pick up a signal.

She threw on another sweatshirt and the knit hat and once again glanced at the door to the main room. The man Luis kept glancing at his watch. He didn’t seem the least bit interested or worried about the two teenagers in the bunk room -- Lily hoped he would continue to underestimate them.

She glanced over at her brother who was pulling on a fleece jacket and shoving a pair of wool socks into his pockets, and then moved surreptitiously to the far side of the room, pushing experimentally at the wooden wall of the cabin where the crack of weak sun shone through. It gave, easily.

She nodded at her brother. They could do this. They just needed to wait for the right opportunity, which came about twenty minutes later when Lily heard the low words of her mother asking to once again use the restroom.

Once they heard the click of the padlock on the front door, she dropped to her knees and pushed on the wall in earnest, the old construction tack paper disintegrating in her hands. The outhouse was on the opposite side of the cabin -- they had to be fast. The boards on the outside of the cabin were so rotted and moist that she met little resistance when she pushed again, and a small part of the board popped off with barely a sound and thunked to the leaves outside. If they were careful, they could get out without anyone noticing they were gone until they were well away and into the surrounding woods. Will dropped to his knees next to her, eying the small hole in the wall.

“Whoa,” he said.

“Help me,” Lily whispered, and she began pushing at the boards with more desperation.

Will grabbed the edge of the hole and started pulling it in, and after a moment it snapped off with a crack which sent him sprawling backwards onto his butt, a piece of the board still in his hands. Wind started coming in through the hole, blowing in leaves and other debris.

Lily looked to the doorway of the bunk room, ears tuned to listen for the scrape of the padlock on the cabin’s door. The hole in front of them was probably about two feet by one foot. One more chunk of board coming off and they could probably scramble through. They pried at the next piece in earnest, but it was drier and much stronger than the first piece had been. Her heart was hammering in her chest -- they were running out of time.

“Here,” she said, shoving the cell phone into Will’s hands, “take this. You’re smaller than me. If I can get one more piece off, get through the hole and run like hell.”

“Lil-” he said, leaning back as though he were about to argue with her.

“Do it,” she hissed at him, once again looking to the doorway, “I’ll be right behind you.” She heard a thump from the cabin’s door.

William shoved the phone into his jeans pocket and looked at her, his face pale. Lily reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“For Mom,” she said, and he nodded.

She assessed the board in front of her and pushed hard with her legs. It cracked under the pressure, the sound of each splintering seeming to ring out like a gunshot. Will glanced nervously at the door, and she reared back and gave the board one more sharp kick, sending it flying outside with a loud clatter.

She heard a sound of alarm from the main room as the cabin door burst in and Will dove easily through the hole, shimmying outside quickly. She heard the clumping of boots coming toward the room, and dove headfirst through the hole, the sharp edges of the remaining boards catching on her sweatshirt and holding her fast. Her hands clawed into the mulchy substrate of the forest floor, giving her nothing to push or pull against.

A shout rang out behind her, followed by two gunshots. She kicked out with her feet, the boards scraping her lower back raw and then she was through and free. She scrambled up from hands and knees and took off in the direction of the county road, running as fast as she could -- the wind whipping fiercely at her face, the skin of her back on fire.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Fuck!” Luis hissed, stumbling back into the room, smoke from the nose of the gun still leaking out of it.

Mulder’s gut was still in his shoes, blood thrumming in his ears, bowel-loosening fear for his kids running roughshod through his heart.

Scully’s eyes were wide with terror as she looked between Luis and Mulder, her mouth open in a round O.

“Your fucking kids are gone,” Luis said, his accent getting thicker with the force of his fury. He was bouncing the Glock angrily against the side of his leg.

Mulder felt a wild rush of relief and had to stop himself from outright grinning.

“Good luck to them,” Luis then said after a moment, his voice returning to the oily slickness of a man used to getting what he wanted. “They’ll probably freeze to death or get mauled by a bear. I still have what I need.”

At that he looked to Scully and smiled smugly, and Mulder’s relief turned back to worry.

The mercenary appeared to be waiting for something or someone, most likely transportation to whisk Scully off to God knows where to do God knows what with her and the baby. Mulder thanked whatever entity was responsible for getting his other kids out of harm’s way. He now only had Scully and the baby to worry about -- he was more than confident that Lily and Will could take care of themselves, so long as they stayed out of the way of whoever was coming to assist Luis.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily tore through the forest, expecting at any moment to hear more gunshots or the sound of the mercenary pursuing them, but she heard nothing but the sound of her feet churning through the duff and her own breath and heartbeat, pounding in her ears. She avoided the overgrown path that led to the cabin, instead running through the forest alongside it. When she felt she could run no more, she slowed and stopped, leaning her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She had not run since completing varsity cross country the fall before, and her lungs burned from the effort. Will, who had been consistently playing hockey or some variation thereof pretty much since he turned 10, was hopefully far ahead of her.

Keeping the path to her left, she knew she was headed toward the road, though the daylight was waning. There would be no one on the seasonal road that hit the path from the cabin -- they would have to hike all the way out to the county road -- and even then she worried that there might not be a car for hours -- even days -- it was as remote a place as she had ever been.

The skin of her back had begun to hurt less, though it occasionally stung when brushed with the tee shirt she wore under her baggy sweatshirt. Her mouth was dry and she had a headache from the adrenaline surge -- and, she suspected -- dehydration.

Eventually she passed the CR-V off to her left through the trees, parked where they had left it in the middle of the forest, inert and dark, a membrane of dirt and leaf detritus built up on its wiper blades.

The forest around her seemed a darker shade of brown, as if she were in a horror movie and the director had swapped out a gel to give everything a more sinister feel. Tree branches creaked as wind blew through the upper branches and the only other sound was the hollow rat-a-tat of a woodpecker doing its duty somewhere far away. Lily pulled the loose sweatshirt tighter around herself and trudged on with her head down.

She heard a branch or twig snap from ahead of her and froze, eyes and ears attuned to any sign of movement. Another broken twig and then she heard the whisper-shout "Lily!"

"Will!" she called out, trying not to do it too loudly.

Then it was all crashing twigs and shuffling leaves and her brother broke through a line of bracken to her right and practically tackled her with a hug.

"Oh my God, Lily," he said, breathing hard, "I didn't think we were going to make it."

She pushed him away from her so she could catch his eye and said, "I did. I knew we'd make it. We've got more to do, though, come on."

With that they kept trudging through the woods in silence, until finally they spilled out onto the seasonal road that was really no bigger than a two track.

"Give me the phone," she said, turning to her brother.

He reached down into his pocket and pulled it out.

"I haven't been able to get a signal yet. I've been trying."

Lily looked down at the display. The old Nokia screen read "No Service" and showed barely half a battery's worth of charge.

"Okay," she said, "I'm turning it off. We need to save the battery until we get to the main road." She pushed the phone into the kangaroo pouch on the front of her sweatshirt -- it was a Michigan State hoodie that she'd borrowed from Travis. If she stuck her nose into the collar and huffed, it still smelled like him.

She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. "Come on," she said after a moment, "let's go."

XxX

Darkness had fallen by the time they hit the pavement of the county road. The moon was half full and the little light that it provided turned the shadows menacing, each dark space a void of whispered threat. The temperature had dropped with the sun, and they could see their breath in front of themselves, standing on the side of the road. Will's shoulders were hunched and he had his hands crammed deep into his pockets for warmth. He'd been sweating when she found him, which was now coming back to bite him.

Lily was holding the phone up above her head, walking up and down the pavement, trying to get a signal.

"Anything?" Will said hopefully.

"No," she sighed, dropping her arm. She once again flicked off the power button and pocketed the phone. They were now down to about a quarter's worth of battery power.

She reached back to flip the hood over her head and pulled the strings tight. Will appeared to shiver, once.

"We should probably hunker down. Close to the road, in case a car comes," she said. Her brother nodded his head miserably.

The embankment next to the road wasn't deep, but it was wet, so they had to hop across it. Lily slid down the trunk of the first big tree they came to and Will sat next to her, leaning into her side for warmth. She put her arm around her brother and squeezed his shoulder.

"My sweatshirt is pretty big if you want to try to share it," she said kindly.

"You mean like our Get Along Shirt?" he chuckled.

Their father had once, when they were much smaller and fighting almost constantly, taken one of his old grey tee shirts and put both kids inside of it side-by-side, each with an arm out one hole. They'd had to wear it for twenty minutes, and while they had stopped physically fighting (it had been admittedly difficult to do so with only one free hand), they had instead complained so loudly and vociferously (the teamwork their father had been ironically pulling for) that he whipped it off their heads after ten minutes and never forced them to wear it again. Their mother, bemused and watching from the kitchen, had never said a word.

Lily laughed out loud. "Something like that," she said.

"Nah," he said, "I'm okay." He shivered once in counterpoint and pushed himself a little further into her side.

XxX

When the grey dawn broke, they both stood and stamped feeling into tired, cold feet. They hadn’t slept much and had yet to see a car. They were hungry, thirsty and each a bundled coil of nerves.

"Do you think we should hike out? Down the road? See if we can get a signal?" Will asked. His wiry copper locks were plastered to his head on one side where he'd been laying against her.

It was then that Lily heard a distant hum. She and Will moved to the edge of the trees, and she leaned slightly out to try to get a look at the approaching vehicle. It was a grey van, pulling a trailer that had two ATV four-wheelers strapped to it.

"What do you think?" she asked her brother. The van was coming on fast and if they were to try to flag it down for help, they'd need to do so in the next few seconds.

Will nodded at her, and they both darted out of the tree line simultaneously, waving their arms in the air. The van slowed as it approached and Lily saw the driver's side window come down. It rolled to a stop about ten feet away from them and a man leaned out and gave them both an assessing look.

"You guys okay?" he asked.

"We're-" Lily started and then stopped herself. "We have someone at our camp who requires medical attention. Can you call 911?"

"Sure, I can do that," the man said, and then pulled out a phone. He leaned it away from his ear and waved them closer to his vehicle. When the call appeared to connect, he leaned back into it and said, "Hi yes, I've got a medical emergency here at... Christ, where are we? Uh, M-95 about ten miles north of Felch Mountain... Yeah... I'm not exactly sure, I got some kids on the side of the highway here... Uh-huh... Okay... You bet."

He disconnected the call and lowered the phone. "The dispatcher wants y'all to wait here until they can get the Sheriff and ambulance out here. You guys want to wait in the van? It’s cold and I got some water and snacks..."

Lily was about to refuse when she heard Will's stomach growl loudly.

"Yeah," she said, "okay, thanks."

The man leaned over and unlocked the passenger door as they approached and rolled down that window as well.

"Sorry," he said, "got the back full of hunting crap. Hop on in."

With a hand on the door, she thought about just asking the man to hand them a bit of food and water, but Will looked so cold and miserable that she opened the door and swung herself up and into the seat. Will followed her, and they sat cramped together in the passenger seat, which was at least fairly substantial in size.

The man handed them each a bottle of water and a Slim Jim from a cooler just behind his seat and nodded at the door.

"Can you close that behind you? I want to pull us off the road."

Will did as the man asked, guzzling the water and ripping into the meat stick, chewing loudly. The man nudged the van forward, but instead of immediately pulling off the road, he drove a ways down it, though not fast.

"Hey, mister," Lily started to say, studying him. He was roughly their parents’ age, with dark thick hair and an almost feminine nose. He wore black tactical pants and a black jacket, and emerging from just below it, Lily recognized the bottom of a holster. It was the same model as the one her mother carried. When she looked back up to find the man's eyes, he was holding a gun aimed right at her face. Will had yet to notice, busy as he was stuffing his face, and he only looked up when the driver pulled into the entrance of the two-track that led to Camp Hi-Early. Will's face went ashen.

Lily, her guts gone liquid, cleared her throat. "You didn't call 911, did you?" she asked, and the man's face pulled into a slow menacing smile.

"No," he said, "I didn't."

#MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #XF #Fanfic #My fic

27 notes · View notes

notasapleasure · 4 years ago

Note

happy valentines day jo!!! i have my most niche question for you. if you had to assign folk songs to lymond characters what would they be

REY. This is an INSPIRED ask and I’m truly grateful to have received it, and I also apologise if my answers are kind of Basic and also just a random selection of characters because I could quite easily have spiralled and spent a month on this otherwise 💕 but happy valentine’s, here’s some incoherent thoughts...

Francis Crawford - Sir Patrick Spens (Child 58)

Because if this isn't the most Francis Crawford of verses I don't know what is: 'The first line that Sir Patrick red, A loud lauch lauched he; The next line that Sir Patrick red, A teir blinded his ee.'

The tragic Scots lord! Is he entrusted with the mission because of a malicious courtier, or because they genuinely think he can succeed at anything he turns his hand to? Depends on who's singing I guess. Aside from the obvious TRC resonances, the position of Sir Patrick Spens as a trusted pair of hands who will take on a foolhardy mission and despair on behalf of the other lives he's responsible is perfect Francis, no?

Philippa Somerville - Riddles Wisely Expounded (Child 1)

I like a riddling ballad for Philippa. The context of this one is often a woman persuading a man of her worth by answering his impossible riddles, but there's also the early tradition of the child or maiden outwitting the devil (cf. The False Knight on the Road), and both fit Philippa nicely I think. It's also full of innuendo ('lay the bent to the bonny broom'), wit, and usually comes with the context of the woman having to 'win' the man. It's not quite Tam Lyn and Janet breaking a curse, but there's no indication that the man is upset at having his impossible riddles answered - he goes ahead and marries her.

'"Envy's greener than the grass Lay the bent to the bonny broom Flattery's smoother than the glass And you'll beguile a lady soon Rumour's louder than the horn Lay the bent to the bonny broom Slander's sharper than the thorn And you'll beguile a lady soon Regret is deeper than the sea Lay the bent to the bonny broom But love is longer than the way" And you'll beguile a lady soon'

Marthe - The Maid Upon The Shore

“Oh thank you, oh thank you,” this young girl she cried, “Oh that's just what I've been awaiting for: For I've grown so weary of my maidenhead As I walked all alone on the rocky old shore, As I walked all alone on the shore.”

So she sat herself down in the stern of the ship How the moon it shone gentle and clear-o, And she sung so neat, genteel and complete, She sung the sailors and captain right off to sleep, She sung sailors and captain to sleep.

And she's robbed them of silver, she's robbed them of gold, And she's plundered their bright costly ware-o. And the captain's bright sword she's took for an oar And she's paddled right back to that rocky old shore, And she's paddled right back to the shore.

Need I say more?

Jerott - Blow the Winds aka The Baffled Knight (Child 112)

I was so tempted to put Crazy Man Michael for him and Marthe, though it's obviously not trad...but just think of that scene in CM: 'O where is the raven that I struck down dead And here did lie on the ground-o I see but my true love with a wound so red Where her lover's heart it did pound-o...'

Buuuut, the modest shepherd boy who learns to be cruel from the girl he catches skinny dipping and doesn’t take advantage of is kind of Jerott vibes too, ngl.

'“And there is a flower in my father's garden, It's called the marigold, The fool that will not when he can, He shall not when he would.”

Says the shepherd's son as he doffed his shoes, “My feet they shall run bare And if I ever meet another girl I'll have that girl, beware.”'

Also, just...L'homme armé.

Joleta - Fanny Blair

I read somewhere that Martin Carthy said he'd no longer sing this one because he thought the 11 year old girl should be believed over the male narrator. And this is why we stan Marty. It's not a badass song for Joleta I'm afraid, it's a song where the crowd turns on a child for accusing a man of rape, and he gets to appear merciful for praying for her forgiveness. Don't google it. You'll find men in forums saying 'it's obvious' we're meant to side with Higgins in the song. So. A pretty apt fit for Joleta.

'On the day that young Higgins was condemned to die The people rose up with a murmuring cry. “We'll catch her and crop her, she's a perjuring whore. Young Henry is innocent, of that we're sure.”'

Oonagh - The Snow It Melts the Soonest

'Oh the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing And the swallow skims without a thought as long as it is spring But when spring blows and winter goes my lad then you'd be fain With all your pride for to follow me, were it 'cross the stormy main'

Danny - The Saucy Sailor

'Oh, I am frolicsome and I am easy, Good tempered and free, And I don't give a single pin, my boys, What the world thinks of me.”'

And I know it's not trad, but: Mariotta - Let Me Be (Kate Rusby)

'This young soldier boy is Ned His gun's like his own, he can shoot me dead His eyes are blue but they don't see me Oh, why does he let me be?'

#asks #lymond #folk blogging #child ballads #there's some stuff here be careful what you google and tell me if you need tags

16 notes · View notes

cursed-jujutsu-san · 4 years ago

Text

✿Flower Requests✿

Hello, Hello! ✿◕ ‿ ◕✿ Welcome everybody to the flower viewing season better known as Hanami ✿ I know its too early to start the viewing since some flowers haven’t even flourished yet, but that’s just psychically!

This series of requests will be based around flowers and their meanings! So I’ll be combining my love for flower language with my love for an manga/anime!

Obviously the meaning of the flower will change how your request plays out so please make sure to check if the flower you’ve picked has a double meaning and if you’ve picked the one most suited to your wants!

Run-Time: 25th December until 5th January - but it has the potential to run on for longer or even come back at a later date ۹(ÒہÓ)۶

Rules!:

You can only request one character at the moment - this may change at a later date but for now to make it easier only one character please!

You can pick up to 2 flowers per request - anything more than that and it becomes a bouquet

Specify colour of flower - the meaning of a flower will change depending on the colour so when stating your flower also state the colour!

Sometimes flowers have a double meaning - e.g. peony symbolize compassion + good health but also shame or indignation - so if your flower is one of those please make sure to state the meaning you want!

✿Specials✿

Random: You state a character and the genre you’d like, leaving the flowers and story to me - its potluck for what you’ll receive for your viewing

Bouquet: You pick 5 or more flowers + type along with your character of choice

Types of Bouquet to order and view:

Wedding Anniversary Gift

Garden: ???

Flower shop: ???

Flowers - Alphabetical Order

Alstroemeria: A flower is symbolic of wealth, prosperity and fortune. It is also the flower of friendship.

White: Signifies a pure friendship and/or an unfading love between two people - used often for weddings

Yellow: Joy, Happiness, energy and optimism

Pink: Gentle love/feelings

Red: Passion and Dedication

Purple: Beauty, Royalty and Nobility

Anemone: A flower that symbolizes anticipation but also fading hope and a feeling of having been forsaken! Due to its wild nature, the flower specifically symbolizes relaxation and serves as a reminder to enjoy the moment in order to take in opportunities at the right time.

White: sincerity due to their delicate appearance.

Red and pink: symbolize death or forsaken love.

Purple: symbolize protection from evil

Bouvardia Double: symbolizes enthusiasm and It is also used to indicate zest for life

Bluebells: symbolizes Humility and constancy

Calla Lily symbolizes magnificence + beauty

White: Purity and unity

Pink: friendship + gentleness

Yellow: Energy/energetic

Burgundy: Vitality

Carnation symbolizes pride, beauty, love and fascination

Pink: most commonly found colour and symbolize gratitude

Red: Deep Love and Admiration

White: purity and good luck.

Yellow: disappointment and rejection

Purple: capriciousness - best to send to someone when you have no clue what to buy someone or their impulsive

Striped: Rejection or Regret

Chrysanthemum: symbolizes fidelity, optimism, joy and long life

Red: Love and Deep passion

White: Innocent, truth and a loyal love

Yellow: A slighted love

Camellia: This flower symbolizes the heart and expresses positive feelings. It’s most common meanings are Desire/ Passion, Refinement+ Perfection, Excellence, Faithfulness and Longevity

White: can mean purity, the love between mother and child or mourning when used in funeral flowers. When presented to a man, a white camellia is thought to bring luck.

Pink: symbolize longing.

Red: symbolize passion or desire.

Red and Pink: Combing red and pink camellias expresses romantic love.

Daffodil: It’s primary symbolism is that of new beginnings, rebirth and the coming of spring, but also Creativity, Inspiration, Renewal Vitality, Awareness, Inner Reflection, Memory and even Forgiveness

A single daffodil foretells a misfortune while a bunch of daffodils indicate joy and happiness.

Forget-Me-Not: This particular flower symbolizes True love memories and of course, please do not forget me

Gladiolus: Are a flower that symbolize Remembrance

Heather :A flower that symbolize Independence, Good fortune and Good luck - its also called Erica

Purple: beauty or worthy of admiration

White: luck/protection or fulfillment of a dream

Hyacinth: symbolizes playfulness, sporty attitude and constancy.

Blue: Constancy

Purple: Sorrow

Yellow: Jealousy

White: Loveliness, prayers for someone

Red + Pink: Playfulness

Hydrangea: This flower symbolizes heartfelt emotions. It can be used to express gratitude for being understood. In its negative sense hydrangea symbolizes frigidity and heartlessness.

Iris: A flower that symbolizes eloquence

Purple: wisdom and compliments

Blue: faith and hope

Yellow: Passion

White: Purity

Lily: A flower that symbolizes purity and refined beauty.

White: symbolizes modesty and virginity,

Orange: symbolizes passion,

Yellow: symbolizes gaiety while

Lily of the Valley: symbolizes sweetness and purity of heart

Easter lily: the symbol of the Virgin Mary.

Magnolia: A flower that symbolizes a Love of nature Marigold: A flower that symbolizes Despair, grief, jealousy. BUT! It can also symbolize things such as:

The beauty and warmth of the rising sun

Winning the affections of someone through hard work

Creativity and the drive to succeed

Desire for wealth

Cruelty and coldness due to jealousy

Sacred offerings to the Gods

Remembering and celebrating the dead

Promoting cheer and good relations in a relationship

Orchid: A symbol of the exotic beauty. It symbolizes refinement, thoughtfulness and mature charm and also symbolizes pride and sometimes femininity.

Peony: symbolizes bashfulness and compassion. When used in a negative sense it can be used to express indignation or shame. It symbolizes a happy life, happy marriage, good health and prosperity.

Rose: It signifies love in its various forms. Its symbolism varies based on color, variety and number

Red: Love, I love you.

Dark crimson: Mourning

Pink: Happiness

White: I’m worthy of you

Yellow: Jealousy, decrease of love, infidelity

Orange: enthusiasm and passion.

Lavender: love at first sight

Coral: friendship, modesty, sympathy

One rose symbolizes love at first sight. Two roses symbolize shared and deep love. Three roses says “I love you”. Six roses says “I want to be yours”. Seven roses says “I’m infatuated with you”. Nine roses symbolize eternal love. Ten roses says “You’re perfect”.

Snapdragon: This flower symbolizes graciousness and strength. But its negative connotations include deception and presumption.

Sunflower: It signifies pure thoughts. The flower symbolizes adoration and dedication. It is symbolic of dedicated love. It is however also symbolic of haughtiness but that is specifically for a tall Sunflower!

Sweet pea: Is a flower that symbolizes Delicate pleasures

Red: love, courage, and desire.

White: innocence, calmness, and gratitude

Pink: youth, linked with happiness, joy, and beauty.

Purple: symbolizes admiration, respect, and pride.

Sakura (Cherry Blossom): Its a flower that symbolizes the short lived beauty of youth, arrival of a new family member and the coming of spring, since this is one of the first trees to bloom each year.

Tulip: It signifies a declaration of love but it also symbolizes fame and perfect love but on a negative note it symbolizes forgotten or neglected love

Yellow: unrequited or spurned love - Sending a yellow Tulip to someone means you love them, but you know they don’t return your feelings.

Bright red: passion and perfect love

Purple: tied to royalty, but also abundance and prosperity.

Pink: affection and love

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yuji itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru x reader #sukuna x reader #Choso x reader #Mahito x reader #nanami x reader #suguru geto x reader

5 notes · View notes

localcultleadr · 5 years ago

Text

My dirty little secret ( apprentice x Lucio ) 1/5

« Milady,

I'm afraid that the Count's state is worsening quite badly, more and more everyday. More than just a global physical weakness due to the plague, I fear that the isolation is eating his sanity away as he's now talking about a ghost visiting him while the nurses are away. He even gave it a name, talking about what he learnt from it and joking about how he's going to be the first one to bed a spirit.

Mistress, we can't no longer talk about a brief delirium here, it's been weeks. I would be happy to say that it's a sign of magical enlightment but on his death bed, it can only means bad news.

The end is near, Countess. At least, he doesn't seem too upset about it.

S. Marigold, Head nurse. »

Said note was laying around, forgotten on Nadia's desk, in a pile with all of her sisters that the Countess had yet to read. It wasn't that the health of her husband wasn't a concern of her but now that she was the only regent in Vesuvia she had little to no time to spend on herself, and even less for him. She would obviously inquire about his state when having lunch with the good doctor and Asra but right now, she was stuck handling political matters with the courtiers in regarding the plague that was spreading all around. She didn't have time to think about her husband when she had to make sure that Vesuvia wouldn't crumble under this curse.

The note would have to lay around a bit longer.

Lucio, for once, didn't care about the fact that his wife wasn't spending time at his side, or that Asra and Julian were avoiding him even more. Sure, he couldn't say that he didn't miss their presence but, like always, he retaliated and replaced them. At least that's how he convinced himself that he didn't need anyone right now, snuggling in his heavy blanket, shutting his eyes hard to try to forget the pounding pain in them, sign of the plague spreading.

Tears were falling along his cheeks. Not because he was sad of some sort. Not because he was alone and slowly dying with little to no hopes to ever be cured, particulary not that his doctor seemed to prefer spending time with his wife instead of working on a cure or visiting him. And especially not because he was so scared of death itself. If he was crying, it was merely a physical reaction due to the pain. At least that was how he tried to convince himself, and failing, as he was sobbing heavily against the expensive fabric of his pillow to muffled the sound.

The plague was something so far away, something that couldn't reach him before, so he didn't cared much about it. He didn't really think about the state of his population as long as he was healthy. Now that it was no longer the case, they had to find a remedies. Some would think that on his death bed, facing hight spirit judgement and loneliness, he would show remorse even if only to save his soul, but no. Right now he could only feel despair taking over him like the crawling red that was spreading on his skin.

Before that his throughs could spiral even more, he feeled the weight of someone seating next to him and a hand lightly petting his hair. He tensed instinctly before the soothing voice of his ghosty compagnion calmed him down :

“ Come on sweetheart, don't do that to me. You know you're not pretty when you're crying.” Lucio could only snort lightly in between his sob, still smooched against the pillow. It did sound like a wet gargle but Llyr didn't seem to mind as he was stll scraching the greasy blond hair. Finally, the Count did look up from the expensive fabric he was crying into to face the small smile of the other man. Tears had stopped falling down, leaving red streak and even more red eyes behind them.

“ Here we go, all pretty... ” said Llyr before pressing a quick peck on Lucio's hair, his hands moving to his cheeks to trace soothing circles on them. The count couldn't help but feel a little giddy under the ghost's minestration, leaning instinctly against his touch. It had been so long since he was pampered like this, getting told that he was beautiful. He signed soflty before getting back to his sense and whining :

“ I'm not pretty, I'm drop dead gorgeous.”

“ My appologies your majesty, I'm deeply ashamed of my words and my behaviour. Please let me make it to you by kissing your noble feet.” He said, his hands leaving his cheeks to bow dramaticaly, still fully seated, his nose pressed against the blanket. While Lucio reajusted himself properly, his back against the bed frame, as Llyr was getting back up again before Lucio did said :

“ Don't get up before I'm telling you to do it. “ It was merely teasing, but he made him feel better to be in control, even if it was close to nothing especially after wailing in front of the ghost. The mere idea of the man listening to his every word, knneling in front of him made him feel all warm inside, and down there. The light warm went to a fire of his groin when Llyr did what said and put back his head where he was before, down in a somehow submissive pose.

Lucio exhaled loudly.

The rush of power nearly knocked him over. Since Llyr became a part of his everyday routine, he had to be the witness of multiple of Lucio's mental breakdown. The count couldn't help, and even for his usual obliviousness, to feel slighty embarassed. He grasped at every bit of control he could.

Even his first meeting with the guy was him making a fool of himself by yelling and falling out of his bed when he saw the ghost sitting near his windows. If you'd ask him, Lucio would claimed that he didn't “ screamed like a fucking wimp. ” Such a big lie, would replied Llyr. Back then, the count looked absolutely terrified, like he saw death itself. It was no death but sure a dead one : Llyr died nearly a year ago and remained here as a ghost or something akin to it. For some reason, he couldn't leave the aisle Lucio was also stuck in. Finally, being stuck with each other made him something close to friend.

Lucio didn't have much information about the way Llyr died as the guy didn't talk much about it but he was exhalling an odor of burning smell that the Count had learn to like. So he must had been killed by being burned alive or something as he was a magician. For once, he didn't planed to talk about it, scared that he would scared him away as he was finding his presence soothing. He wanted to keep him all for himself. Egoisticaly, because he was a selfish man, he liked even more the idea of a person who couldn't abandon him and for whom he was the whole world. Made him feel less pathetic to hung on so much on a spirit.

That's why he was being vague when he talked about him to his nurses, and he only did it because he couldn't shut his month. He had to talk about him to make his presence more real.

“ You can lift your head now. I think you understood the lesson. ” Llyr got back up with a knowning smile, amused and teasing in a way that was pleasing Lucio. It's been so long since anyone looked happy to see him.

“ Thank you, Ô my master. How could I thank you for your indulgence ? What coud I do to repay your infinite kindess.”

“ Let me fuck you ? Or you could fuck me ? ”

“ Well, at least they can't say that you're not willing to honour the dead.” The ghost looked nothing but amused, obviously not taking Lucio's request seriously. He was maybe corporeal enough to achieve such an act but the whole idea was kinda weird. “ But no, definetely not doing it.”

“ It should he an honour to bed me ! I'm the Count of Vesuvia ! Army's supreme commander ! Karnassos' hero ! best lay around here and a gorgeous being if I say so myself ! ” Boasted loudly the Count before choking on a coughting fit, supporting himself on Llyr's shoulder while the latter was doing soothing circle on his back while encouraging him to take deep breath.

It did take a few minutes for the Count to take his breath back before falling back on his pillows, each respiration a struggle. The ghost kept his hands on him, knowing how Lucio was touch starved, lightly feathery touch on his forehead, hair or on the plexus solar area. He was so fustrated by his lack of magic in this form, he would love nothing more than to relieved Lucio from the pain he was but since his death he couldn't do much more than supporting him.

It reminded him of when he was aline, when he was just an apprentice trying to save as much people as he could from the plague. He didn't save much but at least they died the most peacefully he could achieve. He would love to say that he was here until the end, motivated only by self-sacrificing generosity but it would be such a lie. Sure, he was here until the end but the reason of his presence was completely different from just plain kindness.

He was sure his time on earth after his death was a harsh punishment for trying multiple times to flee during the plague outbreak. He would face the port, thinking about how much he missed travelling, discovering new thing, practicing his magic with pleasure instead of giving the released of death to the victims who asked for it. He missed the smell of humid weather while he wandered around the forest, he missed the warm sand smell of Nopal, the freshly baked goods when it was early around the market. He wanted to go so hard.

But everytime he caught himself back, guilt eating his guts and leaving him nauseous. He was thinking of Julian he was leaving behind, of his face when he would discover that Llyr had abandon him, of the loneliness he was letting him drown in. He came back, every time, smiling sweetly as Julian would inquire about his errand. Every time he would found a tale to tell to explain why he did leave so early.

Then, the flame, roaring in those metal caskets, like the scream of the victims would follow him on his death bed. The smell of ash overwhelming his senses.

Coming back to his sense, always shaky when the memories would flood his mind, he leaned into Lucio personnal space to hug him tightly. Even if the Count didn't notice his trouble, he would be the last to refuse to cuddle. Llyr felt a bit bad to take advantage of Lucio's loneliness to get a little bit of tenderness but couldn't help.

The bed was so big that Lucio didn't even need to move for Llyr to be able to take place next to him. The Count's head find his chest, simply enjoying the sensation of a warm body against his, the idea of kinky ghostly sex partially forgotten for now. Llyr's hand went back to Lucio's hair while he hummed a song of his birthplace, a village that he would most likely never see again.

At least, he was not alone and Lucio was not the worst person to hang around. Sure, he was brash, noisy and self-centered. Sure, his tales were a bit worrying and it seemed that he killed quite a lot of people during his time as a mercenary or during the wars he was involved in as the count and seemed proud of it.

But at least, he looked cute when he was sleeping.

#lucio #count lucio #fan apprentice #male apprentice #apprentice x lucio #crying #fluff and feels #hurt and comfort #male apprentice x Lucio #plot #ghost apprentice #Lucio needs a hug #and Llyr gives it to him #mention of trauma #the plague #I love and hate Lucio

15 notes · View notes

thenamesreader · 5 years ago

Text

Good In Me AU Character Profile

Aika Kaneshiro- SHSL Musical Artist

Gender: Female

Height: 5′ 5″

Weight: 48 kg (107 lbs)

Birthday: April 16

Chest: 77 cm

Blood Type: A

Likes: Mukuro, Ibuki, music (obviously), cotton candy (sweet things in general actually), and flowers

Dislikes: Bullies, missing homeroom, people disrespecting her profession

Affiliations: Hope’s Peak Academy’s 78th Class, Class 78-A

Appearance: Aika is a light-brown skinned girl with sunflower gold hair and teal eyes. Her school uniform is slightly altered where she has the skirt switched out for pants. She wears the same typical outfit with a brown vest over a white dress shirt with a red ribbon tied around her neck and black flats.

Her casual wear consists of a brown duster, red scarf, white t-shirt, black two-inch boots, and black jeans. There are usually a pair of round brown sunglasses on the top of her head.

Personality: Aika is a kind and cheerful girl despite always making herself sleep-deprived since she likes to stay up to create songs. She’s also somewhat of a hopeless romantic because of her feelings for Mukuro, becoming a complete disaster if she can make her smile or laugh. Like how Mukuro is way out of touch with her emotions, Aika is too in-touch with her emotions. She tends to react before she thinks which has gotten her hurt a few times. They sort of balance each other out, though, with the musician helping Mukuro come out of her shell while Mukuro helps her handle her emotions.

Despite her flaws, she can be silly, charismatic, and filled to the brim with love for everyone.

Talents & Abilities:

SHSL Music Artist: Aika has always had a passion for music for as long as she could remember. She started performing and playing music as soon as she could walk. Her first instrument was the piano, which she loves to play in her free time along with the guitar. She and Sayaka Maizono tend to compete since they tend to be top on the charts.

Sharp Hearing: Because of her profession, Aika has a more advanced hearing. She can tell voices apart, easily.

Advanced Dexterity: Aika is good with her hands since she plays so many instruments.

History

Early Life

Aika was raised by her father and aunt since her mother left when she was really young. She grew up surrounded by music, her aunt always singing her lullabies or playing different types of instruments for her. She would always wake up to music playing throughout the house. Most of the tv programs she watched were either musicals or music documentaries.

At the age of 4, her aunt started teaching her how to play the piano. She enjoyed it very much and played anytime she could. When she woke up, when she got bored, when she was sad, when she was happy, when she was angry. The piano was her life. After she mastered piano, she taught herself to play guitar and began writing her own songs.

At the age of 13, she found a band called “Black Cherry” and instantly fell in love, listening to their music on repeat. She even started to imitate their music, practicing and practicing until welts covered her hands.

She attended Sixth Black Root Middle School and Black Root High School with Sayaka Maizono. They attended the same classes and were pretty friendly with each other.

She was soon scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy.

Current

Unlike Maizono who did some... unethical things to achieve her dreams, Aika didn’t and worked hard on her own with the support of her father and aunt. She made sure that she got what she wanted the right way.

After the 78th Class Welcoming Ceremony, Aika ran into Ibuki Mioda when she found the music room. After recognizing that Ibuki had been a member of “Black Cherry” and learning that Ibuki had listened to some of her music, they hit it off. Ibuki soon became somewhat of a mentor to her.

A few weeks after meeting her class and her homeroom teacher, Aika bumps into a girl who roomed across to her who introduces herself as Mukuro Ikusaba and Mukuro’s sister, Junko. She found herself, instantly, attracted to Mukuro and very put-off by Junko’s actions, but, was otherwise able to ignore it.

She soon found herself spending more time with Mukuro because of this, much to Junko’s annoyance.

Relationships

Her Father and Aunt

Aika has a very good relationship with her family. She talks about them, fondly, and always says that they would love Mukuro. In her room, she has a picture that sits on her desk of the day before she left for Hope’s Peak with her aunt and father in it as they celebrated her success.

Mukuro Ikusaba

Aika rooms across the hall from Mukuro. After running into her after accidentally sleeping through her alarm, she found herself, quickly, falling head-over-heels for her. This causes the musician to be somewhat protective of her when something happens. Mukuro is the reason she tries to sleep more since they made a deal with each other in order for Mukuro to start eating more.

The two tend to hang out with each other after class in the courtyard and just talk about anything that comes to mind. She expressed her attraction a few times to Mukuro, in more of a joking way, and has asked her to marry her on multiple occasions but never in front of anyone else after the soldier confessed she was unsure how anyone else would perceive it. Aika actually believes it has to do with how Junko would perceive it.

Ibuki Mioda

Aika and Ibuki are pretty much the best of friends. Though, her bond with her fellow musician probably wouldn’t come as close as she does with her class. Aika and Ibuki can be found in Ibuki’s classroom during lunch or the music room when either of them are free and just play music or come up with songs.

Aika is always pretty relaxed around Ibuki, sometimes listening to her upperclassman ramble about things she’s thinking about.

Sayaka Maizono

Aika and Sayaka are constantly competing with each other to see who can top the charts since their two of the top young artists in the country. They're pretty friendly with each other besides that. They tend to mostly tease each other when they see each other in the hallway.

Mikan Tsumiki

Aika tends to visit her a lot because of her bad habits because she’s either sick or she wore her hands out practicing. Because of her sweet nature, Aika tends to give Mikan gifts and help her out against bullies like Hiyoko.

Mikan often doesn’t know how to pay her back so she gives her anpan as thanks.

Makoto Naegi

Makoto and Aika are pretty friendly with each other as well. She has run into him a few times and she believes he is a real sweetheart. Because of his nature, she gave him the nickname of “Kibo”.

Teruteru Hanamura

Aika finds his behavior gross and disgusting and only goes to him for his cooking. She has to give him credit for something if she were to be honest with herself.

Nagito Komeada

Aika finds him... strange. From the few times they’ve interacted, he has commented on how he sees a special future for her. Aika always interprets it as something to do with her music career.

Junko Enoshima

Aika and Junko have an antagonistic relationship. Junko always gets annoyed since Aika has all of Mukuro’s attention. Aika has also witnessed first hand the abuse that gets hurled at Mukuro by her sister. She’s sometimes snapped at Junko because of it. Some of their fights have gotten bad enough that Junko’s stabbed her in the shoulder and threatened her life. Otherwise, she ignores anything that Junko says about her unless it comes to her profession. Most of the comments that come out of Junko’s mouth anyway is something about how Junko feels she’s really important somehow. She also finds Junko’s obsession with despair disturbing. She feels as if she is planning something, but can’t put her finger on what exactly.

Chisa Yukizome

Aika and Chisa have a pretty strong relationship. Aika might not be her student, but Chisa has a soft spot for her. Since Aika tends to visit her classroom a lot, she tends to be warm and friendly towards her. She tends to take a more motherly approach with Aika and considers her an honorary student of Class 77-B.

Kyoko Kirigiri

Aika is acquainted with the detective. She finds her kind of scary, though, because she feels as if she could read her mind.

Quotes

“I’m Aika Kaneshiro, the Super High School Level Music Artist. I’m in Class 78-A. Um, things to know. Not much. I like music and have bad sleeping habits if that’s what you want to know. Or would you like to know more? My favorite color is blue and my favorite flower is a marigold. I also love, love, love cotton candy.”

“Alright! Hold on to your heads- and hold onto your hearts, ladies-because Aika Kaneshiro is here!”

“I’m sorry, Principal Kirigiri! I won’t be late for class again!”

“What’s with this Junko girl on all these magazines? She seems like a brat.”

“Yeah! Go, Mioda!”

“All women are queens! Anyone who disagrees is a... um. Is a... A loaf of stale bread!”

“I’ve seen a lot of pretty women in my life, but, Mukuro takes the cake.”

“There are only two things I will defend in my life: The love of my life and my music.”

“Hey, Kibo!”

“No pain, no gain!”

“I’m not afraid of some kogyaru! I’ll drop her in a heartbeat!”

“I’ll find whoever burnt Muki’s cookie and make ‘em pay!”

“Hanamura! Stop being a perv!”

“We’re all searching for something that gives us purpose. For me, it was music. Music still gives me purpose, but... I found something else that drives me, too.”

“It’s never too soon in the story for a love confession, Tsumiki! Never!”

Trivia

Her first name, Aika, means “love song” and her last name, Kaneshiro, means “golden castle”

Aika makes a lot of references to IRL bands, such as MCR.

While playing the piano once, she hits the G-note and starts crying. When asked why she was crying by a fellow classmate passing by, she replies by saying “It just brings back sad memories.”

Another time, when talking with Maizono, she gets very offended on how she had described her music and replies “I write sins, not tragedies”, an obvious reference to the song by Panic! At The Disco.

She also uses a line from Twenty-One Pilots’ “Stressed Out” in one of her songs.

Aika has many nicknames for Mukuro. She uses “Wolfie” and “Muki” the most, but, she’s called her “Tiger Lily” and “Sarge” on occasion.

Aika is not a fan of British boy bands. She complains that their songs aren’t that different and they all look the same, the only thing being different about them is their names.

She was sent death threats from rabid fans after publicly stating that in an interview.

Aika’s scarf was given to her by her aunt.

Aika did have a brief crush on Sayaka in middle school. She moved on, quickly, though.

Even though she and Junko have a terrible relationship, she wishes she and Junko could be friends in the future.

Aika likes her younger fans better than her older. They’re just so sweet.

Aika’s favorite animal is a cat. She tends to visit Gundham a lot to see the cats he’s found.

#danganronpa au #good in me au #danganronpa oc #danganronpa 3 #danganronpa: the end of hope’s peak academy #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #sdr2 #super danganronp 2 #dr:thh

3 notes · View notes

melodiouswhite · 6 years ago

Text

Say it with flowers!

He blinked confusedly at the huge, colourful bouquet of flowers shoved into his face. "What the hell is this?", he asked the person offering him the bouquet. The taller, black-haired man frowned. "A bouquet of flowers, obviously. That's a ridiculous question, even from you, Hyde." "I see that, but you do know, that I'm not the kind of man, who-" "It's for both you and Jekyll", the other interrupted him impatiently. "Now shut up and take the damn flowers!" Then he shoved the bouquet into Hyde's arms and ran off. Now that was uncharacteristic for him. Was he in a hurry? The brunette frowned, then balanced the bouquet in one arm, to get out his key and open the door.

"Hey, Jekyll!", he called out, as soon as he was in their lab. "What the heck just happened?" At once, the distorted image of his other half appeared on one of the glass cabinets. "I don't know, Hyde." "Do you think he put something in that bouquet? Something poisonous, or-" Jekyll laughed: "Don't be silly, Hyde! Like he would do that!" "He did look pretty miffed." "You would've been miffed too, if you caught him coming home from a night of visiting the coffee houses*." There was no arguing with that. Hyde had spent a fun night, as usual, when he returned to Jekyll's home. But tonight, as he was approaching the backdoor to Jekyll's lab, it had happened like a replay of their first meeting, that he met with Mr. Gabriel John Utterson, Jekyll's lawyer. Who currently also happened to be the lover of both of them. Now one might think, that he would be faithful to his lover, but Edward Hyde wasn't someone for monogamy, even though he was extremely possessive of Utterson and ready to murder everyone, who coquetted with his lawyer. Utterson didn't seem to mind, or if he did, he never expressed it. It would have been pointless anyway. But still, what had that just been about? "Still though, what's with these stupid flowers? What am I supposed to do with them?" "I think he wants to tell you - us, something with them. It's popular to exchange words through flowers. But don't ask me what flower means what, I really don't remember." Hyde thought for a moment. Maybe some of the servants would know the meaning of the flowers … oh, like hell would he admit to a servant of Jekyll's, that he didn't know something! What time was it anyway? He looked at the grandfather clock at the opposite wall. It was midnight. Huh … it's not as late as I thought. Suddenly, he had an idea. "Hyde? What are you doing?", Jekyll questioned, when Hyde slipped back into his coat, "You've had your fun for tonight, where else would you want to go at this hour-HYDE!!!" "Calm down, Jekyll", the brunette giggled, "I'm just going to your study! I need to use your new telephone." Then he leapt out of the window, with the flower bouquet tucked in his coat. "Was zur Hölle-?!**", Lady Summers grumbled, when her telephone rang, just as she had been about to retire. With a sour expression, she took up the receiver. "Hello?" "Hello, this is Edward Hyde speaking", he timidly spoke into the telephone. He had never used the apparatus before and wasn't quite sure as to how it worked. So he was relieved, when he heard the Prussian's mellow, faintly lisping voice answer, albeit slightly distorted by the receiver. "Ah, Mister Hyde! What a surprise! I hope you have a good reason to call me at this time, I was about to retire." "It won't be long", he assured her, "I just wanna know something. Hark, I just met Gab- Mr. Utterson and he gave me a bouquet of flowers." For a few seconds Lady Summers didn't answer and Hyde wondered, if there was something wrong with the telephone. But then he heard her amused chuckle. "Well, that doesn't sound like a problem to me!" "But Jekyll says that this could be a message and that the flowers have meanings. But he doesn't know what meaning, that's why I'm calling you." "Oh, I see. Well, don't you worry, I'm an expert on floriography! First off, if he gives you a bouquet of flowers, it usually means, that he loves you very much and wants you to be the only one to know." Hyde snorted: "As if. He's my bed-fellow, nothing more. And Jekyll and I already are the only ones who know - well, except for you and Lanyon." He heard Jekyll snort in his head, which overlapped with Lady Summers' giggle. "You keep telling yourself that, Mr. Hyde", she chortled, "But back to your flower bouquet. Tell me what the flowers are and I'll reveal, what he means to tell you." "To me and Jekyll." "Oh?" "Yes, the bouquet is for both of us, he said." "Interesting. Then I hope the doctor is listening?" "I am", Jekyll whispered in his head. "He is", he informed the Lady. "Good. Now, tell me what flowers there are." Hyde opened the ribbon and lay the flowers out on the table next to him. It sure was a colourful assortment. Jekyll, I don't know all of the flowers. "Don't worry, I'll help you with the ones you don't know." "So it seems every flower in this bouquet is there twice. One for Jekyll and one for me, I guess." "Go on." He picked up the first two flowers, two fragrant lilies. "I have here two lilies." "What colour?" "Orange." "Oh." Her voice sounded surprised. "Go on." "Wait, what does it mean?" "I'll tell you in the end. Go on and don't forget to give me the colour with the sort of flower. The meaning of a flower also depends a lot on the colour", the Prussian explained. Hyde was worried at her tone, but continued: "Two yellow carnations …" "Huh …" "Two geranium flowers …" The Lady snorted audibly. "Two marigolds …" "Oh. Oh dear …" Hyde picked up two flowers that looked like hyacinths - but since when could hyacinths be yellow? "They can be", Jekyll told him, "They're just not that easy to get your hands on." "Alright, I also have two yellow hyacinths." "Not surprising at this point", the Lady replied. Hyde, by now thoroughly annoyed by her dry commenting, continued: "Then I have two daffodils and two petunias. That's all for now." "I see … uhm …" "Well?", he growled impatiently. Her answer came rather hesitantly: "Mr. Hyde … I'm afraid he wants to say - pardon my French - 'You're bloody arseholes and I can't stand you'." Hyde almost dropped the receiver. "In flower?!", he cried incredulously. "In flower", Lady Summers confirmed. She didn't sound like she was joking. Jekyll was dead silent in his head, obviously just as shocked as he was. For a few minutes not a word was exchanged. Finally Lady Summers' worried voice broke the silence: "Mister Hyde? Are you still there?" "Yes … are you sure, Milady? I mean, the flowers - just explain!" Why am I feeling so anxious all of the sudden? I mean, it's no surprise- "Alright, Mr. Hyde: orange lilies mean hatred. Yellow carnations essentially mean the same, or to be more specific, they mean 'You have disappointed me'. Geraniums mean 'stupidity' or 'folly'. Marigold stands for cruelty, despair, grief or jealousy. Yellow hyacinths simply mean 'I'm jealous'. Daffodils stand for egotism and petunias stand for resentment and anger. In conclusion, he is angry with you and done with your behaviour and your attitude towards your relationship." "…" In his head, Hyde could hear Jekyll sob bitterly. He was probably having a nervous breakdown about how he had known it all along, that Gabriel hated them both, that they weren't worthy of him and so on. Hyde himself didn't know, what he was feeling. Shock? Disappointment? Upset? Hurt? Anger? Resignation? He had no blooming clue! "Mister Hyde?" Lady Summers' voice snapped him out of it. "What?", he snapped in annoyance. "Check if there are any more flowers hidden in the bouquet." "What? Why?" "Just try it. What do you have to lose?" Curse that Prussian bitch for always being right! How did she do that?! He searched the bouquet and lo and behold, he did indeed find a tiny bouquet that was hidden within the bigger one. "There is! But how did you-?" "I didn't. It was just female intuition. What flowers are those?" "Two primroses and two violets." I swear, if this is another 'I hate you'-bouquet, I will- Suddenly, the Prussian cackled at the other end of the line. What the bloody hell was so funny now?! "Oh, Mr. Hyde and Dr. Jekyll, you two are some lucky rascals! Your 'bedfellow', as you call him, is way too good for you!" "What?" Hyde heard Jekyll gasp in mortification. He himself usually found the Lady's bluntness rather amusing, but right now he was just confused and wanted answers. The Lady giggled, before explaining merrily: "Primroses mean 'I can't live without you'. Violets mean 'I will always be true' or 'I will always be there'. They stand for modesty, faithfulness, loyalty and devotion. That adds a nice bonus to the arsehole message, don't you agree?" Hyde nodded absently. Then he shook his head in disbelief. That crazy lawyer … "Mister Hyde, are you alright?" He blinked. "But of course!", he cried, "Why would I not be?" It was true. He was feeling just fine. So why- Oh. "Jekyll is bawling in my head", he informed the aristocrat. "Don't mind me", Jekyll sobbed, "It's just tears of joy!" "Just Jekyll?", she queried. He could picture her lifting an eyebrow. It was only after her retort, that Hyde realised, that he too was crying. Tears … where the hell did they come from? "No", he admitted quietly, not quite sure, if the Prussian noblewoman could hear him through the phone. Then he cleared his throat and continued a bit louder: "Don't worry, I'm good. That's it for now, Milady. Thank you." "My pleasure, but next time don't call me in the middle of the night. Good night." "Good night." He hung up the phone. Then, for some reason, he began to laugh giddily. While he was crying. What's wrong with me? Now it was Jekyll's turn to laugh: "Isn't that plain, Hyde? There's nothing wrong with you! You're happy! Those are tears of joy you're crying here! You're happy, because Gabriel loves you just like me!" Hyde didn't even feel like arguing. He just continued to laugh like an idiot. Suddenly two arms wrapped themselves around him from behind. "Edward", Utterson cooed gently. Hyde squirmed, turning around in the other's arms. Then he grabbed the lawyer by the collar and pulled him into a searing kiss. "Fuck you too, you bastard!", he rasped, when they broke apart. "You got my message then?" "Damn right, I did!", Hyde growled and kissed him again. "If you ever break that promise and leave me, I'll bloody kill you. You're mine." "Then it's only my right to ask the same of you", Utterson growled back, "If I am to be yours, you must be mine as well." The younger man smirked and wrapped his arms around the lawyer's neck. "Fine with me, Gabe", he purred seductively. Another make-out session ensued. The black-haired man was cradling Hyde in his arms and the brunette allowed himself to melt. Is this what love feels like?

…

I've been wanting to write this for quite a while, so I did it, as long as I still had the inspiration. Btw, in the Victorian age it was popular to convey feelings through flowers, especially if saying them out loud would be inappropriate. There is an entire language built around it, it's called 'floriography' or 'Semlalik'. This custom is an import from the Middle East, or from the Ottoman Empire, to be specific. *the coffee houses - euphemistic Victorian slang for the brothels **Was zur Hölle - German for 'What the hell'

#The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll #henry jekyll #Mr. Hyde #edward hyde #mr utterson #utterson #Gabriel John Utterson #oc #flower language #floriography #some fluff

21 notes · View notes