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spookysmujer · 4 years

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Peligro, O.Diaz

Summary: Oscar’s S/O getting hurt by a rival gang.

warnings: swearing, slight verbal/phyiscal abuse, fluff

requested by: @gemini0410

a/n: Thank you for the two requests! I apologize for taking so long to get these out but I appreciate you trusting in me to bring to life your ideas, I hope these are worthy of your liking. I want to thank all the new followers as well as the OG ones for showing me so much love even though I am barely active. Finally back in commission, also I just celebrated my 24th birthday! hehe. As always please consider: following, leave a heart and comment on my content, reblog it and turn on this notifs!! Thank you babes!

(gif belongs to @merakiaes ✨)

“Where you at now?”

The crisp wind is blowing against your face as you walk through the empty parking lot of the local animal clinic. The once brightly lit sky is now a deep dark blue. It’s a calming sight to see after that nearly 12 hour shift.

“Still at the clinic. Just as I was 10 minutes ago when you asked then.” You chuckle a bit as you get your keys out from your purse, pressing your phone to your ear with your shoulder. You hear Oscar’s light chuckle as well. He’s a worry wart, though he rarely shows around most. But with you, he’s always worried about your well being.

Your shift ended up a double when your co-worker called out sick last minute. And apparently everyone else couldn’t make it in. So you were running back and forth between the receptionist desk and assisting the veterinarian. But alas, you finally locked up the shop and now on your way home. Granted it’s an empty bed you are heading to.

Oscar had a drop to make across the city, a few hours away. Which is the reason for his persistent worry on your location. Things have been hot lately, shit constantly going on between the Santos and other gangs. And the fact that you had to work later than expected and out past 9:00 PM has Oscar on edge. Add the fact that he isn’t there to help you get home safely or home to him.

“Okay, I’m in the car now. Setting my purse on the passenger seat, turning on the car.” You tease, a grin permanently etched onto your face as you do the things you listed to him. “Keep teasing, nena. You know how things have been, I just want to make sure you get back to the crib safely.”

You smile to yourself, switching your phone call to bluetooth to be hands-free as you make the 20 minute drive home. Oscar stays quiet most of the ride home, the silence a comfort for the two of you. A long day of sick animals for you and a long day of meet-ups for him.

He suddenly hears the engine of your car shut off and a door close. This confused him as you’ve only been driving for only 10 minutes and you didn’t say anything about making home, “Where are you now?”

“I’m starving, I stopped at Dwayne’s. He extended his hours so I am about to get a fat, juicy burger with a side of fries and big ol soda!” You are drooling as you make your way into the shop.

The two of you bicker for a few moments later but you reach the counter and get your order in. He tells you to sit in and eat but you barely had energy left. If you were to grub on your food whiling dining in then you’d most definitely knock right out.

“Then get home. I don’t know why you didn’t have food delivered to you when you were at work. What part of it’s not safe on the streets right now are you not fuckin’ hearing?” Oscar has finally snapped as you get back in your car. You sigh loudly.

But before you can sass or even comply with him, the sound of the phone call ending sounds in your ears. You pull your phone down to see that it had died thus the sudden ending of the call.

“Shit.”

You mutter as you lean over to see if you left your phone charger in the glove compartment, but to no avail. The amount of ‘shits’ you spew out is enough to fill a swear jar. You can hear Oscar from all the way over here. He’s on edge with the drop, with being away and now this shit.

The idea of Oscar being more stressed then need be because of you causes you to lean your head back and close your eyes for a second. Just get your culo home, Y/N. You say to yourself as you sit upright in the seat.

As you turn the key into the ignition to start the car, a spurting sound comes from under the hood. You try a few more turns, cursing more loudly as the car fails to turn on. You look around and the only other car in Dwayne’s parking lot is the worker in the restaurant.

Before you can get out of the car to head back in to ask for some help or to use a phone, a few more cars pull in. You sit back as the cars park across from you, not recognizing any of them. It’s when its occupants exit the car, you feel your heart skip a beat.

19th Street.

The purple and white sticking out against the moonlight. You watch as they all cluster together as a few enter the restaurant. You’re stuck, your car isn’t working and your phone is dead. And the only saving grace is heading inside but at this moment what would that really do? How would the poor young worker be able to help you out with the bunch of wannabe gangsters out numbering the two of you.

In the midst of your thoughts, you hear the sound of gravel crunching nearby. When you look up you see of few of the members heading towards your car. Panic sets in deeper.

“Ay, Spooky’s chick. You far from your Spooky, ain’t you?”

You try to ignore it but you feel a bunch of eyes on you. The comment of being Spooky’s girl gets the attention of the rest of those that were standing by their cars. Your heart rate begins to pick up now.

“Yo, I’m talking to you!”

And in this moment, you realize why Oscar always worries for you. Not just because things are hot with the two gangs at the moment because most of the time you aren’t aware of your surroundings. For example, Oscar always tells you to lock your car door when you get in. It don’t matter if it’s early in a crowded area, always lock your doors. But with the phone call, you were distracted and didn’t.

So when your door is quickly opened, you mentally damn yourself.

“Oh, yeah that’s Spooky’s ruca. Get her fine ass outta the car.”

You try your best to to move over the middle console to the passenger side or through the back seats. You figure if you can do that then you can get out from that side of the car. But barely over the middle console, you feel hands pull at you.

Never show weakness. You hear Oscar’s words.

You kick and thrash as hard as possible as you hold onto the inside of the car, fighting them off with every ounce of strength you have.But it’s useless as more hands reach in and get a good grip on you. They pull you out of your car with ease.

“Get off me, I swear to God I’ll put a bullet in your fuckin’ head!” Your voice is sturdy and holds power in it. Something else Oscar has always reminded you about.

They only laugh at your words, “ Big words for a lil hyna, huh? I wonder just how good that mouth of hers really is.” The sick and vile thoughts of what they could do to you begin to cloud your thoughts. As they all laugh and catcall you, you spit harshly in one of their faces.

This earns you a harsh slap across the face, the sting registering instantly. A hand grasps your face, squeezing your cheeks as they step closer to you now directly in your face. Your arms are being bound behind you from other, leaving you defenseless.

“Big words, you ain’t doing shit. You can’t do shit not without your big bad Santo, can you? Not to worry babygirl. I can show you how a real gangster does it.” He gets closer, feeling your waist with his free hand as his other still holds onto your face.

A sudden shot goes off, alerting everyone around you. They all reach for their guns and turning towards the sound of the shot. And a big wave of relief washes over you. Dwayne stands with a shotgun aimed their way, not a look of fear on his face as 6 glocks are pointed back at him.

“I suggest you all leave. You got your food, now get the hell off my property.” He says making sure to have a sight on everyone.

Your heart is beginning to calm as headlights shine onto you, a few cars pulling into the parking lot and familiar faces appearing. A few Santos quickly pulling out their guns and aiming to the members of 19th street.

Sad Eyes stands tall, towering over everyone. “Do as he says or all your moms have funerals to plan tomorrow. If not, Spooky is on his way and bet, you gonna wish you were already fuckin’ dead.”

Those of 19th street give a glance at the one who has your face in his grasp. He nods and they lower their weapons, as he releases his grip on your face. The one who had a hold on you releases too.

Once they hop back in their cars, the Santos put their guns away, Sad Eyes walks over to you to make sure that you are seriously hurt. You nod and push away his hand that went to assess your red cheek, “I’m fine. How’d you get here so fast?”

He chuckles, “As soon as you told him you had to work later than you were suppose to, he told us to head back. He was right to, shit been getting way too out of hand especially with 19th street. Still not carrying the glock, I see.”

You shake your head, averting your gaze to avoid the told you so look from him. Your attention is pulled from Sad Eyes when headlights shine again through the parking lot. The infamous cherry red impala pulls up. The engine is barely cut when he’s out of the car and in front of you.

Sad Eyes steps back as the rest of the Santos do as well. “Let me make you all something to eat,” Dwayne says out loud as everyone piles inside to give you and Oscar privacy.

“My phone died, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t notice how low my battery was and then my damn car wouldn’t start and the-” The water works begin, the lip trembling and the reality of what just happened hits you all at once. Oscar lets you cry in his chest.

He fights between wanting to lecture you or comfort you. Tonight could have ended badly had his gut not told him to send out some of his guys. And with you failing to always be aware of your surroundings, right now he could be on his way to the morgue to identify you.

His arms eventually wind around you, his face pressing into your hair. For a moment, he melts and relishes in the fact that you are okay and that you are in his arms.

“You’re safe. And I’m here. Everything else is in the past and we let that shit go. But best believe this, nena. When the streets are hot, you turn down doubles and I want you with me as much as physically possible. Because the fuckin’ thought of you hurt because of me...” He trails off, his voice now a bit shaky.

You peer up at him and smile slightly, he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. Gently caressing your aching cheek, pecking a soft kiss on it. You sigh in relief as he holds you close to him and not wanting to let go.

Ever.

#Oscar Diaz #oscar spooky diaz #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz x y/n #oscar diaz x you #spooky imagine #spooky x reader #spooky x you #spooky x y/n #omb #on my block #netflix on my block #omb imagine #omb fic #santos #east los

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jjba-fragmented-star · 3 years

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New Reference Sheets for Chemaya and his stand, Dark Horse. I changed a lot of things in his backstory which are mostly the key events of his life. I will write his full backstory in the JoJo's Bizarre Fanon wiki which I will do with my other characters. So backstory, extras and Stand information under the cut.

Basic Information:

Name: Chemaya Alley

Birthname: Chimalley

Alias: Chem-Chem, Maya, Uncle Maya, Golden Eyed Gladiator, Immortal Shield

Namesake:

Chemaya(Shemaiah/Hebrew)= God Heard

Chimalley(Aztec)= Shield

Stand: Dark Horse/Chavel Noir(All the Dark Horses by the Trashcan Sinatras)

Nationality: Central American/French

Birthday: May 3

Zodiac/Chinese Zodiac: Taurus/Ox

Age: 2000(Actual Age)/27(Physical Appearance)

Gender: Male

Height: 7ft/2,13 cm

Weight: 96 kg

Blood Type: A+

Species: Pillar Dhampir(Pillar Man/Human Hybrid)

Occupation: Mentor, Artist's Model, Wanderer Formerly: Gladiator, Investigator, Treasure Hunter, Blacksmith

Personality:

Reliable, Pantient, Practical, Responsible, Mother Hen, Gentleman, Aloof, Stubborn, Less Talkative, Sensitive, Overcautious

Likes: His Family, Horses, Cooking, Spring season, Art, Sunrise, Traveling to different countries, Historical documentaries and books, Jasmine tea.

Dislikes: Stone Masks, Pillar Men(maybe some exceptions), Italy, Rude Behavior, his family and friends being hurt, Pomegranate fruit.

Relatives:

Unnamed Grandfather(Pillar Man)

Unnamed Grandmother(Human)

Izel(Pillar Dhampir/Father)

Fiora(Human/Mother)

Andreas McJohan Andrew Joestar(Adoptive Father)

Dimitra Iovianou/McJohan(Adoptive Mother)

Panajotis McJohan(Adoptive Younger Brother)

Elpida Zoheir/McJohan(Sister-in-law)

Zenobios McJohan(Nephew)

Leonidas McJohan(Great-Nephew)

Diogenes McJohan(Great-Great Nephew)

Hariklia 'Grace' McJohan/Bhraghad(Great-Great-Great Niece)

Ambrogio McJohan(Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Orestes Bhraghad(Great-Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Oswald Bhraghad(Great-Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Isaac McJohan(Great-Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Giorgia McJohan(Great-Great-Great-Great Niece)

Background Information:

Original Timeline

-Chimalley was born in France during the Roman Empire from the Pillar Dhampir Izel and the human woman Fiora. Izel was the child of Pillar Man who survived the massacre of his species by Kars and a human woman in Central America. Fiora was the daughter of merchants and had the ability to predict different possibilities in the future of a person based from their choices.

-He had a good relationship with his parents and a peaceful childhood but everything changed, when he was 17 he watched his parents dying infront of him him by Slave Traders and was captured to be used as a Gladiator for the Colosseum. After 7 years of being treated as an entertainment he decided to escape by freeing the other Gladiators from the Colosseum.

-He traveled across Europe, Africa and Asia to expand his knowledge in the different languages and cultures of each country and meeting new people while learning how to survive and new combat skills.

-He became one of the first stand users in the late 15th Century after being shot unexpectedly by one of the stand arrows from the man who created them and saw the potential of Chimalley to use him for his army of Stand Users. Chimalley during that time was confused, scared and wanted to be away from this man, his stand, Dark Horse, reacted to his thoughts and transported him by disappearing in a cloud of dark smoke somewhere safe.

-His pursuit for the Stone Masks started when he encounter a vampire drinking blood from a woman and a stone masks on the floor in the house of a noble man. Chimalley used for the first time his stand by trapping the vampire into binds of shadows and proceeding by drinking his blood. The woman lost a lot of blood but she was alive before the Pillar Dhampir leave with the stone mask and destroying it.

-In the 17th Century he traveled in Scotland and fell in love with the daughter of a Clan Chief, Eimhir McLeod. Their love didn't last long when a stand user threatened the McLeod chief to destroy his Clan if he didn't get Eimhir to marry him. This turned into a fight between Chimalley and the stand user which resulted the death of Eimhir and the McLeod Clan. After this event the Pillar Dhampir didn't fell in love ever again.

-During the 18th century he changes his name into Chemaya Alley and in the 19th century, the year 1883, he finds a lead to someone who has a stone mask in Greece. He arrived in the city of Argos of the Argolida prefecture in the Peloponnese peninsula, after stealing the mask and destroying it he meets a 13 years old child name Panajotis McJohan, who was a stand user like Chemaya, he traveled with his parents from Nafplio to Argos to do some errands. Panajotis took Chemaya to meets his parents and later was adopted by the McJohan family becoming the older brother of Pano.

-In 1888 before the events of Phantom Blood, He accompanied Panajotis to Liverpool, England, to discuss some important stuff with George Joestar I. They arrived in the Joestar Mansion where they met George's sons, Jonathan and Dio, Chemaya found Jonathan pleasant and kindhearted, while Dio gave a hostile aura and he knew something wasn't right with him. The conversation of Panajotis and George ended with angry shouts from the elder Joestar warning the young McJohan to never come close to his family ever again.

-After this event Panajotis and Chemaya started working as Investigators and Treasure Hunters to earn money for some years and later Panajotis works as a woodcrafter and marries Elpida Zoheir, an Egyptian woman from Alexandria. Chemaya will occasionally visiting or write letters and teach the the McJohan family about stands for the following years.

-In 1939, Chemaya goes to visit his family in Greece when he comes face to face with Wamuu, who was looking for the Red Stone of Aja. His fight with Wamuu was one of the toughest he ever had and he finished it by using Dark Horse to teleport Wamuu to another country.

-In 1987, he encounters again Dio in Cairo, Chemaya learned from him that he became vampire via a stone mask, took the body of his Adoptive Brother, Jonathan, gaining a stand via a stand arrow and wanted to rule. Chemaya became furious with Dio of the things he had done to Jonathan and his family and challenged the stupid brat into a stand fight. The Pillar Dhampir was ruthless with the Vampire and he didn't give him any chances to attack back but in the last moment Dio activated his stand ability and time stopped giving him the opportunity to run away from Chemaya. The hybrid was still angry with him but he didn't chase him because the brat wasn't his problem and wasn't worth of his time.

-In 2002 he was in Italy to buy something for his family when he came across Viktoria Erikson, a Hamon User and a SWF worker, who was chasing a occult who had a stone mask and wanted to become powerful, they where successful in defeating the occult and destroying the mask.

-In November of 2011, Chemaya died by being cut in half by a mysterious stand user.

Fragmented Star AU/EOH game Timeline:

In this universe Chemaya's past is the same as the one in the original universe but with some changes:

-In 1987 learned also from Dio that he has Jonathan's head as a trophy and in 1988 Chemaya breaks into the Mansion before the last battle to save it and putting Jonathan's head into the hotel the Crusaders where staying. Chemaya actually thought Jonathan was dead and his descendants would bury him but his was unconscious and the hamon kept him young and alive, his descendants saved his body from Dio and connected it with his head, the Pillar Dhampir without knowing he saved Jonathan's life.

-In 2002, Viktoria and Chemaya had a third person helping them in the defeat of the occult, his name was Michalis Zannos, a Greek stand user who worked as a singer in a famous restaurant in Italy to save money for his sick mother to go in a hospital.

-In 2011 he survived the killing blow from the enemy stand user by teleporting behind him and hitting him unconscious and bringing to the SPW foundation HQ.

-He is currently living in Nafplio, Greece with his three times Great Nephew and his wife.

EXTRA:

-Chemaya inherited from his mother the ability to see the difference possible futures of someone based on their choices and would advice them to choose the most sensible one.

-He is a Pillar Dhampir like his father, he is physically stronger than a vampire but weaker than a Pillar Man and unlike them he can walk during the day. Also he had a horn like the Pillar Men but he broke it when he became 16 so to blend with the other humans.

-The necklace he wears used to belong to his father.

-He is Demiromantic/Asexual

-The red mark in his jaw is made of paint and he has a tattoo on his left shoulder which resembles the Joestar Birthmark. Panajotis payed a tattooist to draw it in Chemaya's body because he considers him family.

-List of wounds from the 2nd Refsheet of Chemaya:

The wound when he broke his horn, he mostly covers it with a green headband, other times with a hat or a bandana.

He has burns in his right shoulder and left arm

Some cuts in his right arm after he fought with a big dangerous animal

Gun wounds in his left side of his chest and shoulder

Wound from a daggers in the left side of his chest

Wounds from whips during his time as a Gladiator

a wound in the center of his chest after being shot by the stand arrow

And a large cut which a reminder of his death in the original timeline on November of 2011. He remembered the previous timeline and the current one he lives.

-Chemaya has an artist eye and describe in detail any piece of art, the reason is because his Adoptive Brother, Panajotis worked as a woodcrafter later in his life and Chemaya is Artist's Model for his nephew Isaac and his mother, Kyriaki Callas/McJohan, who are both painters and a friend from Spain who is a Sculpturist.

-Chemaya every weekend cooks for his family his favorite recipes, one of them is a simple chicken soup because it reminds him of his mother who made it for him when he was a child.

STAND

Name: Dark Horse/Chavel Noir

Nickname: Noir

Namesake: All the Dark Horses(song by the Trashcan Sinatras)

Stand Type: Natural Non-Humanoid Stand, Phenomenal Stand

Stats:

Destructive Power: A

Speed: A

Range: B

Persistence: B

Precision: C

Development Potential: B

Appearance:

Dark Horse has the appearance of a giant humanoid horse made of black smoke, his has six purple eyes, his mane, tail, hands and hooves have the same colour which resembles a galaxy and has three purple cycles in his chest. He face can split up and form a mouth with fangs, he uses it mostly to eat or attack his opponents.

Abilities:

Smoke Manipulation: Dark Horse is made of black smoke, he can change and size and become solid and intangible. He can form smoky tentacles which can become sharp enough to cut opponents and in intangible form he can enter the victim's body and make them stop breathing. It can also form into gloves that covers the entire arms of his user to attack other stands in close combat.

Shadow Camouflage: The stand can become undetectable as along there is darkness or shadow. He can blend into the shadow of a person or animal and follow them.

Shadow Gates: He make gates out of dark smoke which resembles black holes to transport to different destinations in his user's will. Also they can act as dimensional storages to put personal stuff.

Corporeal Disguise: Dark Horse can take the form a regular brown and white Clydesdale Horse with black mane and tail which can be seen by non-stand user.

Weaknesses:

UV lights and when Dark Horse is in solid form his user can feel the attacks from his opponents.

#chemaya alley/chimalley #jjba oc #jojo oc #jjba original character #jojo original character #original stand user #pillar dhampir #pillar man #jjba oc stand #jojo oc stand #dark horse #all the dark horses #jojo oc profile #profile jojo oc #character reference #jjba stand oc #original stand #jjba fan stand

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titanlights-moved · 3 years

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i . alias, name. LJ!

ii . birthday. January 19th

iii . zodiac sign. Capricorn (on a capricorn/aquarius cusp)

iv . height. 5′5″

v . hobbies. writing, creating characters, storytelling, playing video games, reading, drawing, making pinterest aesthetic boards

vi . favourite colour. Candy red, sea foam green, orange and ice blue

vii . favourite book. Ooooooooooo um. . . LOTR, The Fault in our Stars, and my favorite childhood book is ballet shoes

viii . last song. uhhhhh. . . -checks phone- The Silence Reminds Me That I’m Not Sleeping Next to You by Behind Clouds? -shrugs- its part of my sleep mix.

ix . last film / show. Pirates of the Caribbean Curse of the Black Pearl

x . recent reads. Um. . . Fanfic.

xi . inspiration. @unsnare uhhhhh my girlfriend, my experiences, elements of everything i consume media wise, music especially.

xii . story behind url. tbh i just wanted something that sounded ethereal and vaguely threatening and also strong that was different from my usual urls

xiii . fun fact about me. i’m almost as tall as anthony mackie :3

tagged by: @daerknss tagging: YOU

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jyunshiim · 4 years

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An Oath to Thy King༆

Genre: Angst | Fluff | Romance |

listen to: love poem | i hate to admit

summary: Childhood friends face struggles and are faced with secret promises that no one knew about until her 18th birthday.

TW: a little suggestive but no nsfw

A King has been born. The palace was overjoyed with the birth of the new king who was ought to take the throne on his 19th birthday. The current reigning King’s smile painted across his honey toned skin beckoning all his servants to attend his wife. The palace was as blithesome as it had ever been, with servants, helpers and even some guards visiting the sweet, blessed baby boy, cradled in his mothers arms as she coos at him jubilantly. He was gifted many things by many of the King’s companions and people who worked for him and he helped. “One day son, you will take my throne and rule our kingdom,” he smiles at the child, his finger brushing against his soft cheeks “but for now, you are my little Prince Taehyun,”.

A couple years went by and at the age of 5, Little Taehyun met his first friend. He was a year older than him but they got along from the first day bonding over toy cars and hide and seek. On a balmy spring day the little ones waddled and sprinted around the lavish rose bushes, hiding behind the hedges giggling gingerly before the other pounces out and startled the other. The would often tackle each other to the floor and tickle on another on the luscious verdant grass, sweet laughters filling the soft warm atmosphere. On Beomgyu’s 6th birthday there was a party at the palace on behalf on King Kang, since Beomgyu’s father was a close friend and a worker for him. The balloons were decorated around the dining hall and the guest lounge, blue and green streamers hanging from the tall ceilings and a little Taehyun excited about gifting his best friend a gift he begged his father to buy. When the king ordered everyone to assemble at the guest dining table, allowing the young Beomgyu to sit at the top of the table, he ordered his butlers to bring his gifts in but before that took place, you come running in with a box. Taehyun smiles ear to ear. “Father, yn is here!” he runs up to her and grabs her petite hand and pulls her towards Beomgyu and you tried to reach the table to put the gift in front of him but the King takes it from you gently helping you place it on the table. The gifts come in a Beomgyu’s smile was ever so precious. As the sun was pondering on the horizon, Taehyun, Beomgyu and you were sat on the balcony that was connected to Taehyun’s bedroom; the view was of the kingdom and the fragrant rose garden just below him the the vine covered archway at the end of the garden. It was no regular garden, it was a garden that the king made for his wife before they got married hence why the archway was at the end with some green space. The you and the boys played together in Taehyun’s room as the parents were in a meeting discussing important matters. It was a warm evening, the ambience so enthusiastic, the warmth of the air embracing the three of the children on the balcony as they exchange gifts. “open your present Beomie” Taehyun giggled clapping his hands, his cheeks a light blushed pink and his honey orbs filled with pure happiness and joy. Beomgyu ripped open the silver wrapping paper swiftly to reveal a velvet box. Beomgyu gasped, the stars in his eyes illuminating his face and the smile growing on his face when he realises what it was. The box contained a bracelet made out of gold with the three of your initials on it, ‘Taehyun, Beomgyu and Yn’. Although, a little saddened you looked down; a little disheartened you present wasn't as good but Taehyun comforted you. “yn! it’s okay! don’t be sad please” he frowns and hands you a little box too so the trio of you all had the same friendship bracelet. “OH MY- Taehyun thank you so much I love it so much we’re all matching now!” Beomgyu squeals in excitement. He opens your present and it was a crocheted teddy with ‘CB’ oh his chest with a little heart. “you are my best friends forever!” Beomgyu squeals with excitement as he tackles the pair of you to the floor. The two giggle under Beomgyu; “B-Beomgyu get up,” Taehyun giggles. “You have to call me Hyung i’m 6 and you’re 5,” Beomgyu plays around teasing him. “Yeah but IM a Prince!” Taehyun throws his stuffed cat at his head before it fell off the balcony. “NOO! kitty” Taehyun frowns whilst looking down from his balcony looking at his toy wedged between two rose bushes. “It’s okay Taehyun, you can get it tomorrow morning, your father said that you have to be asleep soon, we have to go,” Beomgyu frowns. As soon and Beomgyu uttered, rainclouds began to sheathe the blueish sky, turning them a dismal grey. Thunder and lightening began to arise, causing Taehyun and Beomgyu to become a little frightened. “hey, it’s okay! Beomgyu you have the teddy i gave you,” you point out before tiny Taehyun turns to you hugging you. “im scared i don’t like the thunder,” he whines. Your father and Beomgyu’s father wait at Taehyun’s door waiting for the pair of you to go home. “don’t worry, I’ll get kitty tomorrow,”.

Six years later, your 10th birthday. You could remember this day almost perfectly as if it were a vivd dream that reoccured over and over again. The skies were painted a beautiful cerulean blue with specks of alabaster clouds dancing gracefully above you. The warmth of the sun grazed over your skin, gleaming over your slightly blinding you playfully. The bees buzzed around you and the joyous feeling in your stomach felt so exhilarating. “YN!” Beomgyu yelled as he saw you sitting in a slight daze holding your puppy plushie, sitting on your hand-built porch your father built; “happy birthday!” he smiled his puppy like features peering at her past the small gate. She skips over to him and opens the gate and he hugs her, as best friends do, and he passes you a little basket with some gifts. “I got you some of the best baked goods for your birthday as well as a little charm to!” he hands it to you. Your heart fluttered as if there were a million butterflies swarming inside. Beomgyu had always gifted her something on her birthday since they lived in the same neighbourhood but as for Taehyun, he wasn’t allowed out of the Palace as much as he was used to. Taehyun was often stuck in his tenebrous palace, studying ‘Royal etiquettes’, general studies, practicing fencing and also Korean literature too. It was tedious and at the age of 11 he barely understood the literature he was given but the King demanded he know each and every book inside and out. Taehyun would sit at his window seat each evening, gazing out into the nothingness of the town craving to venture into the main markets, the small forest and the mountain gardens just outside his palace. He held the leather book between his soft palms analysing and marking each sentence and word to learn about it further. Being so young yet so lonely meant he was able to focus on literature and reading and by the time he was 18, each and every word would be engraved into his mind. The palace was vast, but the emptiness of the building added to the loneliness.His father claimed it was only to make him ‘mature’ and to ‘teach’ him the ways of a royal but you and Beomgyu thought that it wasn’t fair. One afternoon, Beomgyu went outside Taehyun’s window and threw small stones to get his attention. It looked like Beomgyu was the Knight in shining armour and Taehyun was the damsel in distress but in reality it was Taehyun who was the imprisoned Prince and Beomgyu the resilient friend. That was until The King spotted Beomgyu and was asked to leave the palace grounds immediately and was reported for breaking and entering. That was indeed his first warning. As you and Beomgyu sat together in front of your house, your father approached you with a serious expression on his face; “we are ordered to go to the King’s palace for an urgent meeting,” he informs her. “Can I come too, Sir?” Beomgyu asked your father. “of course Beomgyu,” he ruffles his chestnut hair before holding your hand and making his way to the palace

“Dont go anywhere too far okay sweetie,” your father reminds you. Of course you obey your father, you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. “okay father i wont,” your sweet smile warming his heart, as well as Beomgyu’s. As soon as you and Beomgyu walked into the palace, a servant was escorting Taehyun to the main entrance before his dejected expression uplifted and his eyes were like two shining marbles glistening in the palace lighting. “oh my! you guys came!” His happiness was through the roof when he saw you both. There was nothing more exciting to you than to sit with your best friends in the rose garden that held significant sentimental value to the Royals. You, Taehyun and Beomgyu sit outside in the rose garden watching the stars gleaming, the spring breeze sending slight shivers down your spine as the heavenly bodies setting the dark abyss of the night sky aglow; “happy birthday, Yn” Taehyun hugged not forgetting your birthday. “Thank you! you didn’t forget!” you giggle hugging him tighter, his arms gently embracing you.

Years went on and You and Beomgyu gradually became closer since your father used to work with his father and also for the King. Taehyun became busier and busier the more the three of you grew up and the King limited the amount of time Taehyun could spend outdoors and outside the palace and meeting his friends and spending his precious time was useless to the King. By the time You were 17, Taehyun was completely unavailable to go outside and meet his friends which made you distant from Taehyun since the Palace grounds were now out of bounds. He was cooped up in his lavish palace, being served by his servants and butlers, everything in a silver platter whenever he asked for something, his bed being three times the size of him with sheer curtains draping over the frames, red and gold bedding fitted with almost no creases every time he got into bed, his attire always ironed and chosen for him; what a perfect life, right? However one thing that he couldn’t demand for was time. Although, You and Beomgyu didn’t know what happened behind closed door.

One winter’s night, ivory snowflakes glided on to the greyish cobble path sheathing the walk way as you and Beomgyu walk home together. You pulled your scarf over her face slightly to warm her icy cheeks, the piercing cold reddening your skin. Beomgyu’s hands were deep in his coat pockets and an idea sparked up in his head; “hey wanna go somewhere?” Beomgyu asks.

“like where? it’s freezing” you whine as you show her pinkish fingertips, pouting at him. Beomgyu puts his arm around your shoulders, “the barn house? our usual hang out spot” he chuckles and then smiles before the realisation hits you. You felt a bit stupid but Beomgyu found it oh so endearing. “ohh yeah, sure, I have nothing to do. My father is at the palace at a meeting again, he’s been going to a lot of meetings recently” you scrunch your nose before Beomgyu taps his cold finger on the top of your nose playfully before bolting ahead. “h-HEY!” you whined again as Beomgyu starts running. “Come and get me,” he teases as he runs down the street, laughter emitting into the icy atmosphere. The both of you end up at his barn house out of breath and sheltered from the blizzard that was about to hit the town, collapsing on the sofa’s he had there. “I win,” Beomgyu’s smug face teases, his vexatious energy radiating off of him. “only this time,” You warn jokily. Beomgyu prepares some hot drinks for you to warm up your frost bitten hands; When you held the cup of hot cocoa, the warmth flooded your body rapidly melting away the icy sensation in your hands. You looked up at Beomgyu as he was cleaning up the spillages, his messy hair over his forehead; and her mind reminisced.

Beomgyu looked different to what he did 7 years ago but it was clearly because of how he aged. He was 19, only a couple years older than you but his features were more defined and he just seemed so beautiful. His chestnut brown hair framed his charming face. His eyes, pools of dark cocoa always gleaming in the light and his skin a soft honey tone. You both sat together in the barn house which you both often did when you had nothing to do or had no plans such as tending to the Kings needs or desires and would talk about your secrets or things you were feeling~ thats how you both became closer over time. As you both sit cozily with the fireplace burning the logs Beomgyu threw in, you sigh and gaze at each other. “So anything today?” Beomgyu asks, leaning into the couch swinging his head back so his brown locks fell back. You thought for a bit and tilted your head slightly and sighed, “have you ever loved anyone before?” you ask nervously. He stops mid sip, licking the whip cream off his lips and smiling back, “I don’t know, have you?” He asks back. “perhaps,” you shrug. “what do you mean perhaps? do you have a crush on anyone? if they break your heart I will beat them up,” he threatens and puts his fists up punching the air making you giggle. “no.. I don’t know, don’t worry forget i even asked,” she shakes her head. “uh? you can’t just do that?” he scoffs and then silence deafens the room. He suddenly pounces on you making you yelp, his hands wrapping around your waist and tackling you to the couch. You were trapped between the couch and Beomgyu, his arms either side of you and his face directly in front of you. There was slight tension between the two of you, you gulp nervously. “i guess you still wont tell me?” he gives a playful little smirk before you push him away. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You divert the attention and sit up on the sofa, “i miss Taehyun, he hasn’t been seeing anyone lately,” you sighs, “ahh yeah me too, I do miss him,”

Their childhood had always been with the young prince but the King established new rules for Taehyun as he grew. It was as if he were trapped in a cage unable to escape from his preordained future he had waiting for him. Being a Prince wasn’t easy and in Taehyun’s case, being the only son, there was more pressure on him. - On the same night, when the blizzard hit the town, Taehyun gazed outside his tall glass windows that were draped in red and gold embroidered curtains and sighed. He sat in bed writing a letter which he did since he was 11 ever since he couldn’t go outside. It was like a diary account only to a specific person, his best friend of course.

‘To my best friend, It has been a long day for me. I woke up at 5am and had breakfast at 5:30am making sure it was filling and nutritious and then starting my fencing training at 6am. After that I was tutored for 3 hours which was tiring and boring but it’s what my father wants. Lunch was lonely, i remember how we used to run amongst the rose bushes and you used to pretend you were a royal. it was cute i must say. I miss those days so much. My coronation is so soon and it’s nerve wracking, i’m sure you’d be there right? to see me finally turn King and I’ll let you stay here and we can be together again.’

The King’s personal servant knocks on the door and asks Taehyun to go to sleep. The hope and light in his eyes dissipates into the nothingness of his bedroom but before the servant left she left some valuable information. “Prince Taehyun, your father has asked me to tell you that there will be a compulsory meeting with your father to discuss some important matters next Friday.” she bows. “oh okay..” Taehyun responds. Next Friday. That was Taehyun’s 19th Birthday. When a royal is 19, they would need to be taught everything a budding King would need to know and what they should do. It wasn’t easy. Also marriage was to be organised by Taehyun’s father so the royal bloodline would stay intact but of course Taehyun wouldn’t be able to choose his lover... As the lights were turned off, white alabaster specks began blanketing the window pane, Taheyun pulled his sheets closer to his face pondered for a while. I miss you...

“Yn,” her father calls out reading a letter that was from the King himself. “yes father?” you walk into the room where your father worked and he turned around handing you the letter, “ this is from the King to you sweetheart,” you take the letter into your hands and unfold it, reading it as you walks to you room. You stops. “invited to a meeting with the King and the Prince?” you say to yourself.You think about it. Beomgyu knocks at the door just before you closed your bedroom door, so instead he opened her window. “Hey yn wanna go on a walk?” he asks holding two hot drinks in his hands and a little white wooly hat sitting on the top of his head.You looks at the letter and back at him. “yeah hold on, lemme get my coat,”. “what’s that?” he asks as he passes the drink to her and points at the royal letter. “some meeting I have to attend next week,” you say. “just you?” Beomgyu asks curiously. “yeah I guess so? I think my father will come too,” you assure herself. Beomgyu nods his head in affirmation and then thinks for a little bit and decides to go somewhere else; “let’s go somewhere different today.” Beomgyu’s cheerful charming smile suggests and of course you went along with it, sipping at the saccharine hot chocolate, the warmth of the liquid swirling in your mouth, the softness of the melted marshmallows colliding with the savour of the dark chocolate. He grabbed your hand, fingers unintentionally interlocking and he ran to a special place, special to him anyway. After passing the stalls and passing the little meadow where you, Taehyun and Beomgyu used to frolic, Beomgyu took you to a desolate garden which was situated on higher ground not too far away from the palace. “wait this is the hidden garden you found when we were kids ,” you gasp. The tree was beginning to blossom and the flowers were spread across the concrete and between the crevices. There was a bench which wasn’t there from when you could remember. “I built this bench here so we could sit here and enjoy the view,” Beomgyu expressed to you. “BUILT IT?” you respond shocked! You both sat down on the bench, close together as you rested your head on your best friends shoulder.

The stars gleamed down reflecting off the town’s architecture, the sheen of the town making you feel nostalgic. You sigh but you didn’t realise that Beomgyu was lovingly gazed at you, his finger tips fiddling with your hair that cascaded over your shoulders. His heart began to palpitate when you realised he was playing with you hair. “you having fun there?” she teases sitting up and facing him, your sultry, pinkish lips caught his eyes and his eyes. The chilling breeze raised the hairs on the back of your neck, or at least you hoped it was the breezed and not his delicate touch. His doe eyes were like two Tiger’s eye - the beautiful warm toned gemstone- and his blushed cheeks were like red apples. “Why are you staring at me like that?” you let out a slight giggle although there was a glint of admiration and love that you denied to yourself, but before you could laugh it off, Beomgyu’s hands cupped you face. A gasp left your lips before it even got the chance, it was swallowed up by his tender kiss, the velvety sensation of his lips against yours. This was your first ever kiss.

He felt confident and you didn’t seem to want to pull away but there you were, in his arms letting him guide you his hands around your waist. Perhaps it was the unconscious desire and the tension that had been present for years but you let him kiss you, of course giving the same energy and you allowed him to adulate her innocent lips with his own. Once he calmly pulled away, their eyes met; “I’m sorry, I know i shouldn’t have without asking but-” Beomgyu was interrupted by you, “if i didn’t like it i would’ve pulled away, no?” the atmosphere was awkward but it was clear to see you and Beomgyu had a fire burning within. After that day, they would meet in the same location and often share an act of affection, nothing was official since Beomgyu wanted to wait until your birthday to surprise her with flowers. He kept his feelings concealed and away from their ‘friendship’ respecting your choices but ever since that day when he asked if you liked anyone, it just made sense to him and of course he shot his shot. His heart fluttered every time he saw you and that was when he was 100% sure that he was in fact in love with you. It was your 18th birthday: You had to go to the meeting before you could do anything celebratory. You wore something flattering and formal to present yourself appropriately. The flowers were fragrant and blossoming, the soft sun light beaming over you as you skipped your way to the palace but as you arrived there, the King, the Prince and two guards were waiting for you. There was uneasiness lingering in the air; you began to feel suffocated, your throat closing slightly. Something wasn’t right. “Good morning Ms. L/N, please, follow us through to the meeting room,”. You looked over at Taheyun, the light in his eyes absent and empty. “hey Taehyun, how have you been?” you whisper, playfully smiling as you always did. “i’ve been fine, busy too,” there was no smile, nothing. “ i missed you so much,” You walk next to him and whisper and you swore you saw the corner of his lip curl slightly before dropping again...

Taehyun’s POV:

‘Her voice was like a breath of fresh air. Hearing her made my heart sing and seeing her was as if i were dreaming. She looked so... beautiful. Why is my heart beating so fast? Why have my ears gone red’ That was my thoughts. I had a crush on Yn since we were kids and it never changed, but it felt stupid to me that I had a crush on her for so long. “Why is she even here? was she supposed to be the designer for the coronation?” I thought again. The room felt bright again, her ecstatic energy radiating warm oranges, vibrant pinks and shades of yellow painting the aura of the dismal room but there was also the sense of comfort and being at home. I still dont know why my father invited just her, It didn’t make sense until my father began to speak at the table.~

The king seated you all down and he began to speak instantly. “ Thank you for coming to the meeting Yn,” he greets you with a simple thank you before he begins his main point. “I have gathered the Prince, myself and you all to discuss Prince Taehyun’s coronation,” It sounded rather simple, perhaps you were supposed to hold the crown at the front or even decorate for the function? “I would like for you, Yn to marry my Son, Taehyun,” The King smiled proudly after letting hell run loose within Your mind. You and Taehyun lock eyes with worry and shock. “ sorry father, what did you say?” Taehyun gulped in fear of speaking back to his father since he knew the consequences. “Son, in order to be a King you’d have to marry and continue our bloodline. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the family do you?” The temper of the King was gradually rising, “your father made a promise to me 8 years ago that you would marry my son since i have helped your family with fortune and let you live on my land,” there was complete silence between the two. “this isn’t me asking, this is me telling you that the marriage will occur before the coronation of Taehyun and therefore you would need to be at the palace for your fittings and other preparations,” The King said rather calmly as if it were such an easy thing to accept. How were you supposed to tell Beomgyu that she’s marrying his best friend, the prince?Your heart shattered at the thought of turning your back on Beomgyu; the vacant chasm in your chest only growing more and more as the King spoke. “ I shall let you both talk about this matter,” The King ups and leaves leaving you both alone, in silence.

“so..” Taehyun begins “ how has life been treating you huh?” he asks sounding genuinely interested in what you’ve been doing without him all these years. “oh um...” you start off. What do you start off with? The fact you’ve been lip-locking his best friend or that you have feelings for Beomgyu. “um well I have been studying a lot and often just taking walks and hanging out with Beomgyu,” You nod, her fingernails dug deep into her skin under the table. “How is he? I miss him quite a bit but I cant have anyone over until.. well..I’m king,” he sighs frantically biting his lip as a habit, rolling his eyes, . “Im sorry my father blackmailed your father,” Taheyun gulps “Just for the sake of my father, do this marriage thing.. but you can love anyone you want” His words ring in your ears. “ so you’re saying that I marry you for your publicity and your reputation but I can go on and live my life?” you asks feeling your stomach go bitter. Taehyun nods with a sombre expression. The silence was every so deafening and all you wanted was to run away from this mess but you didn’t want to leave Taehyun. “um so what have you been up to?” you try to change the subject but you instantly felt regret. “training, learning how to be king, i dont know it’s the sae every day from 5am every morning,” He sighs and a servant brings him water and places it in front of him. “You see that,” he eyes the water that was placed, “whatever I do, something is given to me even if I dont need it,” he scoffs. Taehyun wasn’t having a good time in the palace and your heart ached to see him this way. Before you could say anything else, a guard comes in and notifies you that you have been asked to be escorted out to make your way home. “i’ll see you soon Taehyun,” You run up to him and hug him, standing on your tiptoes. He has gotten a lot taller hasn’t he?

That evening you left the palace after being escorted to the front gates, jumping down the stairs before suddenly looking up to see Beomgyu with a bouquet of white and red roses waiting at the entrance with a charming smile on his face.You swore he could’ve been mistaken for a Royal. “how are you my love,” he says handing her the flowers and you accepted them, the aroma of the fresh flowers bringing memories back to Taehyun’s rose garden, before walking beside him and replying to him. “i’m fine,” although Beomgyu knew you long enough to know that you weren’t fine. He stopped you and put his hands on your shoulders; “what’s wrong?” he frowned, his glossy coffee bean orbs gazing back at you like a lost puppy. He didn't like seeing you sad, he made sure you were smiling and would dry your tears whenever you were crying. “It’s nothing,” you say before standing on the tip of your toes to kiss him, stumbling since you lost your balance but Beomgyu’s arms caught you. Not long after, he took you to your special place again, her head resting on his shoulder whilst saddening thoughts raced through your busy mind before Beomgyu broke the silence. The moonlight was beaming over the two tonight as the trees calmly rustled, dancing with the wind, whistling melodically. “Yn..” he begins clearing his throat, “After all these years i have made it clear to myself that-” he was interrupted by you, since you knew exactly what he was going to say. “you love me? that’s what you’re going to say right?” your voice cracked, your throat drying making it hard for you to speak. “I was, yes, I was also going to ask for you to be my girlfriend because I love you so much,” you couldn’t lie to him, you didnt want to hurt him. “The King and my father had a deal that I’d marry the Prince in return for what the King had helped us with,” your voice was hoarse and you could feel your eyes pool. Beomgyu’s bright, elated smile dropped, his sparkly eyes dimmed and his flame burnt out. His aura was grey, almost as if a matchstick lost it’s flame. “you.. the prince..” he scoffs, the corner of his lip curls half upset and half hurt, “of course, because you’re the only daughter out of the King’s companions... ” His head was in the palm of his hand. You put your hand on him gently and despite the butterflies and warmth he felt he couldn’t accept the Prince’s to be wife to be so intimate with him, it felt wrong to Taehyun and to himself. There was silence before Beomgyu decided it was time to take you home. It was midnight and all you could do is walk beside him in the darkness lit up by the street lamps, the air dense and humid with a slight breeze. You got to your house, the lights all turned off, everyone must’ve gone to bed. You turn around to Beomgyu, his sorrowful face looks at you; “have a goodnight yn,” he says before he leaves. There was no kiss goodbye, not even a heartfelt farewell. He just left.

From the following day and onwards you had to go to the palace regularly and often had to meet Taehyun. There was a dress fitting in which the Prince and yourself had to attend although you didnt want to go. The room was only occupied by a tailor, a dress designer, the Prince and yourself. The uneasy atmosphere making you feel anxious. “ G’day, Princess,” the tailor and designer bowed to you. Princess didn’t settle with you well at all. “we have picked out a few dresses for you to try and to get fitted for you,” the pair smiled before handing you a few dresses to go and try on. You went through a few of them and Prince Taehyun shook his head to most except one. It was a muted blue dress, with a tulle skirt that did make you feel like a princess. The bodice was embroidered with little blue flowers making it look like a miniature flower garden as well as the bottom of the tulle skirt. The veil was also a light blue which was attached to a white flower headpiece which was small and elegant. Taehyun’s eyes widened at the beauty he saw. “you look uh...” he struggled to find words to say. “pretty?” you finished his sentence as he nods to confirm what he thought, his cheeks burning up a crimson hue. “oh it seems like Taehyun likes this one, we shall get the measurements done as soon as possible,” the pair begin to take your measurements, tape measures around your body. You were already treated like the Princess and it felt.. weird. You learned about many Royal etiquettes over time, every time you went to the Palace and it was a big jump from being a regular towns person to a Princess. Not something you would expect every day.

On a spring morning, Taehyun stands out on his balcony letting the cool, placid atmosphere sink in before he was interrupted by his father’s servant. Frustration took over his body, his fists clenching and his ears turning red, he despised his father and his fathers servants. He exhaled before turning around to see you standing there in a royal dress you had been styled in. “The King has asked me to leave The Princess with you until he calls you both down for the last meeting before the-” the servant was interrupted. “marriage okay, you may leave.” his tone was stern and his button eyes turned fierce and filled will hurt, anger and sadness. “yes sir,” the servant closes the door before he was left with you alone. “so, is this royal treatment any fun,” he sighs leaning against the frame of his balcony arms crossed. “i dont know..” you reply as you dig your fingernails into your skin again and Taehyun notices. He walks over, still furious from earlier, and grabs her wrist. “what is this? why do you keep doing it?” He asks, a taint of worry in his eyes but his tone sounding angry, his brows furrowed. “don’t do it, you always did it as a kid when your father yelled at you for getting lost in the palace,” he chuckles, easing off a little, reminiscing about the past; “remember how it was so easy to be kids,”. He remembers something and makes his way over to his bedside table. “ i have something to show you,” he says before getting a little wooden box out of his draws and opening it. The box was filled with letters, things he wanted to share with you and also a brooch he kept from his 16th. you looked through the crumpled papers and there was many letters addressed to his ‘best friends’ and some that weren’t addressed to anyone. The papers were discoloured and crumpled and also tear stained which you assumed from the random smudged ink on the letters. you read the letters carefully each one of then addressed to ‘best friends’ until at one point it changed; it wasn’t addressed to anyone. What happened there? you ask Taehyun and he looks down thinking of how to say what he was thinking. “Over time being in pure isolation, I missed your laugh, your energetic aura and i guess over time I developed a strong liking towards you and i can’t deny that,” he shrugged “so i just wrote whenever i felt my heart ache,” . The silence grew louder again. “you liked me? for how long?” you put the letter down. “since i don’t know, it just happened but you and Beomgyu seemed to have a stronger bond and it made sense so i tried not to get involved” Taehyun slowly closing the draw, observing the way the muscles in your face tensed up and the way you clenched your jaw. What did you feel? anger? sadness? frustration? you didn’t know what you felt but you knew for a fact it wasn’t positive. “did i say anything yn?” Taehyun lifts your chin up with his finger, the worry inundating his glossy, almond eyes “did i say anything to upset you,” his hand rests on your knee. You had to work up the courage to tell him but you couldn’t do it. The cowardice.

Beomgyu waited outside your house as he always did which was strange to you since he hasn’t spoke to you for a week or two. You walk up to him in your tailored dress, made just for you, and he turns around. “hi,” he speaks forcing himself to smile before looking you up and down; You could almost hear his heart flutter... or was that yours? “Beomgyu, h-hi,” you stutter since apparently you forgot how to speak! “What are you doing here?” you ask him inching closer to him. “I came to say sorry, none of this is your fault and to be quite honest, i hope, over time you do love Taehyun,” his smile appears, his real, genuine smile. “of course I still love you and i will do anything to protect you but sometimes it’s just the right person but in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong life....” he rests his hands on your shoulders before pulling you into a warm embrace and you could feel your tears pooling at your eyes. You grasp his sleeve before burying your head into his chest and let your emotions run free. You were confused and lost; you felt lied to by your own father and felt like you were a part of a game, a stupid pawn to be played with. You didn’t want to hurt Taehyun or Beomgyu but there was only one path to take. “i’m so sorry Beomgyu..” you sob into his chest as he caresses your head gently.

The more you hung out with Taehyun the more the bitter taste in your mouth left, the tense atmosphere was lifted and everything felt so...comfortable. You would go to the palace nearly every day to ‘reconnect’ with Taehyun. One day Taehyun’s father would organise a dinner for just the two of you to supposedly grow feelings for each other. The table for the two of you was set up in the well known and loved rose garden, a cylindrical wax candle in the middle illuminating the seating area prepared for you both. The chairs were in ivory white covers and the table cloth was a blood red. A vase was gently placed by a servant, the roses delicately presented. Your eyes locked with Taheyun’s as he pulled the chair out for you, you couldn’t help but smile. “what’s that smile for huh?” Taehyun teases, easing out of his ‘professional’ royal upfront and showing his real persona. “nothing,” you smile playfully before tucking your chair in, “why are you smiling so much for?” you tease back. His cheeks blush up a soft pink before he begins to speak again, “because I’m spending so much more time with you and it feels like we’re kids again,” he fiddles with the friendship bracelet he still had on. “kids, except me and you are getting married very soon which I understand was way out of our control,” Taehyun nods in agreement. “how are you feeling though?” Taehyun asks you. You couldn’t lie but you felt like there was a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, your cheeks burning up at the question. Are you falling for him? It’s too quick right? You ponder for a little bit. “i’m feeling.. I’m feeling great,” you smile at him, and everything felt as it were merging back into colour again. What was happening? It felt like some sort of epiphany. The evening went as planned, the pair of you talked and caught up with all sorts of things that happened. Soon after, for the second meeting between you both arrived which was a couple days before the big day. You waltz into the Palace happily to meet Taehyun but abruptly stop when you see Beomgyu with his father in the meeting room with Taehyun’s father. Your heart stops and everything goes grey again. You see Taehyun being escorted to you by his servants. you wanted to run and hide. Your eyes were so fixated on Beomgyu and he saw you; thats when your heart shattered when he smiled back and waved, his sweeter than bubblegum smile making your throat go dry. Once Taehyun approaches you he sees you focused on his best friend moreover, his best man. His hand rests on your shoulders and Taehyun smiles at you before gesturing to walk with him. You hoped he didn’t see your reaction to Beomgyu but unfortunately he did. “hey, are you okay? did anything happen?” Despite Taehyun assuming one thing he didnt want to come to conclusions without asking you. “I- uh, y-yeah,” you stutter, but he knew you werent telling the truth. He lift your chin up with his finger making your eyes meet his. “please Yn, tell me what’s bothering you,” he pleaded. He just wanted you to be okay and besides, telling the truth is better than lying. “Beomgyu and I-” he cut you off, “had a thing but my father forced you to marry me and you felt hurt and every time you see him your heart aches?” You could see he was feeling hurt, but not because you liked someone else. He felt hurt because he knew this would happen , that you would fall for someone else, he felt hurt for taking something away from you that made you happy. “Taehyun, listen I feel hurt because yes i did like him but he told me to move on and it just feels painful here,” you put you hand on your chest “and ... after all these weeks if being with you i-” He listens and then speaks “you’re falling for me?” there was some silence. “it’s okay, don’t force yourself,” he says, holding your hand as his fingers interlock with yours. Suddenly you begin to ease.

You both went to his room, the balcony doors were wide open and you go to stand outside to get some air. You inhale the crisp air and exhale. You look out into the town and let your mind roam free for a little while but as you do you feel Taehyun’s hands wrap around your body and his head rests on your shoulder. You didn’t move, you didnt’ want him to move. It was comforting. “are you okay with this?” he asks you, and you nod your head in response. You could feel your heart beating faster but you could also feel his too. Beomgyu walks out of the palace and sees you on the balcony and gives you a smile and a thumbs up. You smile back at him before he walks away. Once Taehyun raises his head, you turn around to him, your watery eyes glistening in the sunset. “what’s wrong?” he asks but without any warning you cup his face and pressed your lips against, on the tip of your toes to reach him. Once you part , he had a shocked expression on his face but with nothing said, he presses his lips to yours again, one hand above your waist and the other on the nape of your neck. Whilst you both share something so passionate such as this kiss, he guides you to his bed; as you sit on his bed, you look up at him. You couldn’t believe what was happening. “are you okay with this,” he asks as you nod. instead of a gentle passionate kiss, his lips crash onto yours, Taehyun gently lowering himself onto you. An hour or so later, the pair of you were notified about dinner and Taehyun asked for his stylists to help you both pick out dinner attire. Although you couldn’t just forget about the moment you spent in his room despite it being impulsive, it meant something. Especially to you, as if it were a conclusion to whatever chaos disrupted your mind.

~a few weeks later~

It was warm springs day, the sun was beaming through Taehyun’s window. He sighs as he wakes up and it hit him what day it was today. The Royal Wedding. It wasn’t long until the servants came in with his attire and his pin to go on his blazer. It felt surreal that i would be marrying my best friend and even the thought of it was nice but of course i did feel bad for, although ever since that one evening in my room it felt like all our questions were answered from one simple kiss. okay simple may be an understatement but regardless... Thoughts raced through his mind before he thought to ask about you; “where is yn?” he asks and the servants look at him blankly, “The Princess,” his voice sounding slightly angrier. Taehyun didn’t like how foolish his fathers servants were and luckily enough his status gave him authority to teach the imbecilic servants the correct way to approach him and pay attention whilst working. “she is getting ready your highness, should I get her for you?” one of them asks. “just give her this,” he takes his pin off his blazer and hands it to the servant. You on the other hand, were getting your dress fitted and hair done for such an important day but you couldn’t get one thing off your mind; what Beomgyu told you that one night. He wanted you to be in the right hands, perhaps he thought he wasn’t good enough and Taehyun was better for you but that evening you spent with Taehyun felt like a solution to all your questions. The King and the guests all gather in the beloved rose garden where you, Taehyun and Beomgyu grew up together, sitting under the white archway every time you visited; Taehyun stood at the front with Beomgyu as his best man, standing behind him. Of course he’d be the best man, since Taehyun didnt have very many friends. “treat her well okay,” Beomgyu pat Taehyun’s back. The music queues as petals began to suddenly fall from above you. You inhale sharply, is this really happening? You see your father waiting for you so he could walk down with you and Taehyun at the end waiting along with Beomgyu. “yn sweetie, i’m sorry for making you go through this,” her father apologises as he walks with you until you got to Taehyun, “don’t worry, i understand and i can make this work,” you smile at him before you stand face to face with Taehyun, looking a beautiful as a Prince could be with his elegant white suit with his gold finishes here and there, gold epaulettes on his shoulders along with the gold friendship bracelet that the three of you had on. As the ceremony begun, Taehyun took your hands into his gently and stood up tall. The atmosphere felt magical, like you were some cinderella in your baby blue gown, holding the future King’s hands; you couldn’t help but forget about everything and get lost in Taehyun’s eyes. It was time for the vows and Taehyun went first.

“From being children to blossoming into the young adults we are now, i promise to keep you safe from whatever harm comes in the way. I will promise to love you and take care of you and support you in whatever you choose to do and listen to you. I want to be your safe place front start to end, hand in hand you and I Yn. Even from the sidelines i will cheer you on and make sure you are happy and loved because you deserve every bit of it .This is the beginning of our journey, and I hope to spend every little bit with you.- Taehyun”

You exchanged your vows. The guests were in awe, applauding the newly wed couple as you both slip the silver rings onto each others finger before it was official. You were officially married to Prince Taehyun and had the new title as Princess. As everyone was free to enjoy the function, Taehyun offered his hand to walk you back down the isle and make your way to where the main function was held which was inside the palace. “congratulations Prince Taehyun and Princess,” Beomgyu smiles whilst bowing respectfully before you punch him playfully like the old days. “stop, it’s weird,” you smile a little “well I am a respectful being, am I not?” he nudges Taehyun. “Of course,”. The King notifies everyone that the dance will start soon and of course Taehyun help his hand out, bowing down at you, offering the first dance with you formally. “Would you care to join me on our first dance,” he asks you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. The lights dimmed and everyone watched the new couple dance together for the first time. Taehyun’s soft gaze making your stomach flutter, his hand on your lower back leading you to the music. “everything okay?” he asks and you nod. Beomgyu watches from the side, “that’s my girl..” he sways gently with the music as you and Taehyun dance. Little did you know, those vows were written by Beomgyu and he wrote it on the behalf of himself as well as Taehyun. Taehyun appreciated Beomgyu helping him write the vows since he felt the same too but it was time for Beomgyu to move on.. just like you moved on with Taehyun. Taehyun stood on his balcony that night thinking to himself and you ask him what was wrong before you got nothing but silence. You did what he did to you and wrapped your arms around his torso and you never felt so sure about your feelings now. “My love,” he turns around before hugging you again so your head rested on his chest so you could hear his beating heart “what’s gotten into you?” he asks. “I like when you call me that,” you mumble into his chest. “well you’ll hear it a lot often now,” he says cupping your face, before kissing your forehead. You finally got the courage to say those three words to him, after making sure your feelings were true; “Taehyun.. I-I love you..”~ “I love you too” he whispers back

Meanwhile a lot goes through Beomgyu’s mind; “I can’t give up on you... but i might as well forget you.. to help me but i cant stop thinking about you..” His mind races as he goes home to the 2nd bouquet of flowers that he bought for you that one night to keep him company..., now withered and fallen..

#txt taehyun #txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #au #fanfic #readerxtaehyun #readerxbeomgyu #bts x reader #txt x reader #fem reader #soobin #yeonjun #hueningkai #friends to lovers #kpop #kpop au

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s7-evermore · 4 years

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 [Preview]

↳ 𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕞: Ikemen Vampire x Ikemen Revolution

↳ 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖/𝕤: Slice of life(?), misc...

↳ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣: Sekiguchi Gin (OC)

↳ ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: I will be using some ikemen revolution characters as normal people in this story. Most of them will be around Gin’s age here or older...

𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:

After the death of her grandfather, 15-year-old Gin is left in the hands of a mysterious relative of hers. He goes by the name Comte de Saint-Germain and he tells her everything that has been left unsaid between her and her grandfather...

[ GIN ]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, I never saw things the same way other people did. Some say it's a blessing, some may say it's a curse, but along the way, I lost the idea of what those two words meant. The sky was especially blue today, not completely devoid of clouds, perhaps only small wisps of them, like the left behind cotton candy lingering in the cotton candy machine. They looked sweet just like them, drifting ever so slowly with the pace of the sun.

I watched silently as people passed by, particles in different colors and shapes trailing behind them, lingering on their clothing or on their skin. The scent of the flowers on my front lawn was carried away by the wind, to the bees, and to the nostrils of my neighbor and his dog.

My kind neighbor gazed at me with a sympathetic expression, but I paid no attention to it. I think I've had enough with receiving those kinds of looks now.

I sat outside the house I have now been living in alone for a few days since Gramps' death. I was waiting for someone, but I didn't know who.

Well, not exactly. I've seen Gramps writing and exchanging letters with him several times before. I never looked into those letters or read them at all whenever Gramps accidentally left them on the dining room table. But I remember how those letters looked from a distance. Cursive words were neatly written with elegant penmanship, matching the stationery it was inscribed on.

To me, it looked like Gramps was exchanging words with someone from another time. Someone who was still stuck in the past, writing letters instead of emails, sending long messages through paper instead of simply DMing him.

Gramps told me this person was a distant relative of mine on my father's side, which made me curious every time. I barely knew anything about my father, other than the fact that he was always craving for adventure, so much that he just... disappeared.

I don't even remember much of my mother's face. Sometimes I hear her singing to me, the song was a blur, but I remember the tone of her voice, so tender and sweet. I only remember the way her hair flowed in the wind because we had the same hair color, but that was about it. Most of my childhood memories were hazy recollections of my mother and most of them were only about my grandfather and me.

Gramps was probably the only one I had most memories of. I could remember almost every little thing about him. He would play songs from his old record player whenever we did spring cleaning once a week in the afternoon. His usual breakfast was avocado toast, eggs, and cheese paired with apple juice, and sometimes he'd make me the same meal when I said I didn't mind.

He had a large study of his own, but I never went in it because I wanted to respect his privacy. I've snuck a few glances whenever he left the door slightly ajar, and I would see his scratched mahogany desk and his old reading lamp sitting on the corner of it. I remembered the tall shelf of books on the other side of the room, as well as the old grandfather clock whose hands were frozen in time.

Gramps kept grandma's old china in a glass cupboard that I never bothered to touch, I always left Gramps to clean it because I never trusted myself with antiques like that. Also because next to that cupboard was a stash of his favorite sake, and I automatically knew I wasn't allowed to touch those.

I remember the times when he would drop me off and pick me up from school, he would always tell me old jokes that we'd both laugh at. He always laughed hard when it came to jokes, he'd laugh harder at his own.

I remember the times when I'd come home late after hanging out with my friends. He would always leave me dinner and he would either be asleep or working and writing in his study. Gramps never cared about who I made friends with as long as they weren't bad enough to make me commit crimes or murder someone. As long as I knew what I was doing, then he didn't mind what I did. Perhaps that was his way of letting me know that he respected my privacy too as I did with his.

Gramps was basically the only family I thought I had, that was until a few months ago when he told me he'd reached out to an old friend of his, which happened to be the relative from my father's side. He told me he was from France, but he never truly told me his name. Gramps called him 'Comte' and said that was the only name most people referred to him by.

I remembered my 14th birthday. Gramps received another letter from this Comte that night and told me it had come with a package for me. Although I knew it was from a stranger (that I now referred to as my distant relative who I had no idea even existed), I was excited to open it the moment Gramps said it was for me. When I unraveled the silk blue ribbon, I was astonished to find a golden butterfly hairclip resting against a velvet cushion, gleaming bright with opulence inside the cream white box.

Gramps was the one who clipped it on my head the next day when I was preparing for school, he even told me not to take it off or ruin it as it was obviously expensive. So, I never did. I never took it off unless I had to take a shower or sleep. I always kept the hairpin near, in my bag, or tucked safely in my pocket. I cleaned it every now and then too, to maintain its gleam.

Until now, as I waited, I felt the butterfly pin clipped on my hair. I wonder if this Comte guy would notice it?

Averting my eyes away from the sky once again, I look at the large rolled luggage next to me, filled with things I considered 'necessary', and the large guitar case that once belonged to my mother sitting next to it.

You go through life thinking you need a lot. I thought the same thing when I was thinking about what to pack. Clothes for spring, summer, autumn, winter, a small collection of my favorite mangas and books, the cute stationery I've been collecting over the years, my favorite anime figurines and nendroids, and useless notebooks with stories surreal enough to consider a child's...

But the longer I let my mind roam, the more I realized that everything I deemed necessary didn't seem as important to me now as it was before. I remember taking all those things out of my travel luggage and shoved in the only few clothes I thought was my favorite, the scarf Gramps made for me when I was twelve, the two albums of CDs that I bought over the years with the money I saved, the CD player and the pair of headphones he bought for me during my 14th birthday (it was adorable. Some people would consider that word to be the last thing you'd call an elderly man, but how could he not be when he tried so hard to search about modern trends just to know what a typical teenager like me would like?), my switch, my wallet, and my phone, my camera, and a photo of my mother.

I was only fifteen, and in the future half of these things might be useless to me, but I just had to keep them as a reminder that I did have a good childhood. One that I would be willing to look back on when I'm old enough.

As for everything else, I will leave them as pieces of me. I thought that maybe leaving behind things I owned would be evidence that I lived in this house, alongside my grandfather and the memories he had before me.

I previously thought that it would be too soon for me to get used to not having Gramps in my life. I was aware of the fact that someday, I'm gonna have to live life alone, perhaps start a new family if I was allowed to. Until now, I still couldn't get used to the foreign feeling of having him gone.

I saw the signs that foreshadowed events of my soon-to-be solitary life, but I thought if I innocently ignored them, they wouldn't happen so soon.

Of course, I knew about his sickness. Despite my intelligence, I tried to keep hoping that he would at least be alive to see me grow into an adult, to send me to college, or even live long enough to see me get married like he did, like my mother did. I noticed the whites in his eyes getting yellower. I noticed his usually tanned skin getting paler and paler.

I saw the bloody handkerchiefs he stuck into jars. Whenever I did the laundry, I took them out of there and removed the stains like it was the most natural thing. I recalled his lessons on stain removal, not just on clothes but on various things such as carpets, rugs, or even curtains. I folded those handkerchiefs like they hadn't been tainted with blood moments ago. I acted like he was still okay, like he was taking care of himself.

But it all backfired in the end.

...

In front of my house stops an opulent car, causing me to immediately straighten up as I freed myself from the thoughts that plagued my mind. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, my brows twitching when I spotted a man dressed in fine clothing stepping out of the car.

Almost everything about him felt 'out-of-this-world'. His suit was obviously in the style of 18th-19th century European fashion, but it felt somehow modern that he stood out enough to be mistaken for an actor who had the role of a nobleman (the kind you see in anime or in dramas). His hair seemed to shine like specks of gold under the sun. His eyes were just shrouded with mystery, the kind that makes you think he had already seen everything, from the beginning of time up to the day earth is shattered by an asteroid.

To conclude, he looked like a man straight out of a drama, and I never thought I'd live long enough to meet such a person.

I slid my headphones around my neck as he approached me with a gentle smile, the kind that could mean a lot of things other than 'kindness'. I knew he was being genuine with his actions, but it was the constant wariness that I felt around other people that made me think otherwise. Things that don't appear to be what they truly are throw me off, I forgot if I was ever like this before.

He looked human, but he didn't feel like it.

The man crouched in front of me. I was sitting on one of the steps, clutching tightly on the CD player in my hands.

His gaze softens as he speaks, "You must be Gin."

I nod, "Yeah. Are you... Comte?"

I’ve been thinking about posting this for a while now, though I think it will mostly end up being a series of random one-shot stories of my OC interacting with IkeVamp and IkeRev characters. Since Gin is only fifteen (15), her relationship with the ikevamp characters will remain platonic, their interactions are going to be a brother/sister kind of thing.

Such is not the case with the ikerev suitors though. Like I mentioned in the notes, they will be around Gin’s age.

Also, if you still can’t tell, Gin has a type of synesthesia that allows her to see smells or scents as small shapes and colors.

#ikemen vampire #ikemen revolution #ikevamp fanfiction #ikerev fanfiction #ikerev x ikevamp crossover #crossover fanfiction #oc

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lovelyjujubean · 4 years

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happy new year!! poppers are heard down the block mixed with loud cheers all bouncing off every 900 plus square foot walls, our celebration of life comes twice a year, our birthdays and when we are granted a renewal of 365 days.

martin luther king day and valentine’s day, love lost and found, lack of faith and support. the start and ending of something big, memorable, fulfilling.

you should be reminded on february and march 1st that on this day we are alive because of the ones no longer standing by our side. they fought to have a day of their own.

on daylight saving i lie in bed long enough not to notice that the time has changed, that now the sun must rush to rise sooner so that the moon can come from behind the hills

st patrick’s day, is all about luck and pots of gold located at the end of a rainbow. when i was a child i learned that there is no end to a rainbow, no leprechauns, free pots of gold, or anything able to give you anymore luck than you were born with, that is often seldom.

you are not alone. there is a people who love you, appreciate you, rely on your love and support existing. you are not alone. april fools day

april is a month full of a religious appreciation, there was a point when easter came around and my mother dolled me up for church, afterwards i went to my fathers for hotdogs and lays chips. religion was never something taken serious around me, god acted as someone to throw problems on, a wish and dream catcher of the sort.

on mother’s day my sister and i rush to make something creative for my mother, she deserves to know her love is not materialistic. that she is the root of me, the stem of my very being. when people look at us together they say we are twins, i am just a variation of 15 shades lighter. i can see my own suffering in her eyes.

juneteenth, the day of freedom. something that no one is ever granted full heartedly. june 19th is the day that white america was forced to see people of color as humans, juneteenth is the day they were allowed a fighting chance

happy fathers day, i found out that me and my sister izzy have gotten my father the same pair of flip flops for years. i learned i do not hold my father in my heart where he should be. he deserves some medal for always being there despite the way he thought i felt.

4th of july is full of fireworks that expand the size of ginormous clouds. i wonder what it would feel like to be placed in a firework container and shot into the sky. i hope i would turn out just as beautifully as the others. i hope i would go out in a bang.

boo. today is the day we collectively put on costumes and masks and distort ourselves. tell me are you more confident one day of the year or 364.

happy thanksgiving, i will feast like it’s our last meal. we will all sit on a long benched table, and discuss the end of the world

on december 25th i eat roast beef and stare out the window. i see a shadow, a ghost, a ball of light. an angel. i’m dying. they stare back. there is no one there. - juju

inspired by the fact i didn’t know there was so many holidays

#mine #poetry #me #drugs #weed #i just am posting some notes rn #random #art

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bloommelon · 5 years

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Everything Is Blue

WARNINGS: severe angst, suicidal themes, suggestive sexual content, eventual suicide, mental illnesses, eventual character death, unhappy ending, suicidal content, graphic suicide

A/N: please don't read if you're depressed, this is a very sad story but im proud of it because I actually finished something for ONCE. NONE of this is based on real life, it's all fiction. Jaehyun just fit my idea of this character, and I hope no one gets the wrong idea that I tried to glamorize suicide. And also, I do not feel suicidal and I am not depressed because of writing this, i simply got this idea while thinking I should try and write angst. On another note, I hope whoever reads this likes it or at least it makes you feel some type of emotion. Thank you. *i did not proofread at all btw*

Song: Colors by Halsey

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August 3rd

Jaehyun and I sat in a field of Nemophila by the river, the sun shining and clouds floating above us eating strawberries and our laughter filling the hot summer air. Jaehyun had taken me to the museum to see his favorite painting an hour beforehand, telling me it reminded him of me. It was a simple painting, blue sky with fluffy white clouds on a sunny day. I'd almost stayed home that day, not wanting to go anywhere due to a flurry of sudden panic attacks that week. "When you're feeling anxious, come here and call me and I'll come as quick as I can." At that moment, I'd been filled with happiness due to Jaehyun's caring nature but I should have been the one making sure he had somewhere to go when he was upset, but his feelings of sadness weren't noticeable back then. Giving him a hug wasn't enough to stop the pain he felt daily just from living. Laughter hurt, and so did seeing me smile making guilt rush through him at the fact that I brought him some happiness, but not enough for him to change his mind.

September 19th

Jaehyun wrote poetry about clouds and sunshine and the color blue. He would have painted himself blue if it was socially exceptable. Most of the poems he let me read brought tears to my eyes, ruining my mascara. He always wiped the mascara off, then he'd kiss all my tears away telling me that's how poetry should make me feel. I told him many times how intense it felt, the emotions brought out by the poems he wrote and he'd stare at me and say" that's how i feel about you." Intense. Wildly. Airy. Bright and warm like sunshine shining down through clouds. Most people tell you to write when you're feeling blue to get whatever you're feeling out of your system so that you can feel yellow and bright again,but he still wished for the sun to poison him. He wished for dehydration and shock to take him away instead of writing useless poems.

October 13th

Friday the thirteenth. Bad omens were shown, I just didn't recognize them. I look back now and something had been off about Jaehyun that day. His smile wasn't the same. It was crooked in a way that it was almost a frown, but to outsiders it passed as a normal expression of happiness. He painted sometimes just like writing, and his paintings left me feeling blue just like the blue sky in august, like the painting in the museum, like the color of the walls in his room. It wasnt even a sad painting-he'd painted a red rose in a field of baby blue eyes by a river at night. It wasn't even sad, but when i touched the paper after it dried, I just wanted to cry. He'd held me telling me about the meaning behind it. "It's supposed to make you appreciate things and people that are different, but still appreciate the normal things and people too. No one should be left out. That everyone and everything is more than meets the eye, you just have to look deeper." The way he talked made me want to cry, and he could sense something was wrong, but the fact that I couldn't look deeper to notice his sadness made me tell him everything was fine. I pretended I was fine and I pretended he was fine, so that in the moment, I could feel like everything was fine when nothing about that day was fine. That night he'd went home and cried himself to sleep, and he'd almost done something heartwrenching but I couldn't ask him a simple 'are you okay?'. He would have lied anyways, but maybe if i would have pushed him to answer he wouldn't have cried alone that night or almost took a razor to his skin.

November 7th

Jaehyun and I would sit in my room for hours in comfortable silence, him drawing while i read books. He'd been noticeably upset on this day. To the point where I kept asking him what was wrong and was everything okay. He started rambling about death and blood to the point where fear bubbled up inside of me, spilling out into the world and when he noticed I was terrified, he had cried and apologized repeatedly. He'd thrown his drawing pad in the middle of all of this, it getting lost behind my bed. I'd held him for hours after that, hoping he would feel better and calm down. It worked on the outside, and I foolishly believed I'd helped him on the inside as well. He wasn't okay, and the way he had talked about blood and death so freely spoke volumes about what he thought of daily. If only I'd tried to look deeper. Most of us take what we see on the outside and assume that there's nothing more to see and we should look away as to not disturb the normalcy of the world.

December 25th

Christmas day was snowy and beautiful, the sun fighting it's way through the clouds to shine down on everything to try and melt the snow, but the snow was relentless and the roads icy. The gifts didnt matter that day as everyone was together and that made Jaehyun filled to the brim with happiness, which mattered a lot more. That night we lay together wrapped in nothing but the warmest blue blanket we could find, the snow falling against the window and the christmas lights above us in my room shining down us painting our faces in green and red. He was happy, but that didn't mean the pain had suddnely disappeared and that family made the bad thoughts run away, he was just hiding them. That night he whispered how much he loved me , lips against my temple. He told me I was the only gift he needed. He didnt know that he was the only gift I needed, and that him staying could have been so much better. Maybe that's selfish. On Christmas some people expect everything they want to be given but give nothing to others. That year, I was sadly part of the people who expect and was given everything I wanted but I gave nothing.

February 14th

Jaehyun's birthday. I had thrown him a surprise party that he loved, wearing a blue dress with pink hearts on it since it was also Valentine's day. Once he opened his gifts, which was a copy of the painting with the clouds on a sunny day that he absolutely adored and a necklace with my name on it in the shape of a cloud. His dimples stayed out all day, like I wish they would have stayed for life. As a Valentine's gift he gave me a blue rose and a painting of me by the river sitting in the field of Nemophila. That night I ended up in only his blue flannel with marks of his love on my skin the next morning,his whispers of "i love you more than anything" ingrained in my thoughts forever. I'd told him the same, but it didnt count as much since he said it first, and knowing now that that wasn't enough for him to stay breaks my heart all over again.

March 2nd

We spent the day walking around despite him being vocal of not feeling like getting out of bed, and he was a bit angry with me until I got him laughing by singing embarrassing 80's songs and dancing awkwardly. We both danced until we got tired, our legs exhausted and breathing was a difficult feat. I told him that he didn't deserve to be sad and he told me "i deserve whatever the world throws at me" which made me worry about him for weeks. I didnt tell him that, although maybe I should have. I just didn't want to make him feel bad when i started having panic attacks again because of it. He didn't know and didn't mean to, he just was in so much pain.

April 20th

He'd cooked for me on this day, telling me he felt a lot better. He appeared completely calm and peaceful like how some people get after doing things they love. Which he was good at cooking and enjoyed it, so I was extremely happy. He hadn't cooked in months-not like this. He was also baking. He wouldn't let me go in his kitchen. "It's a surprise, darling. Just be patient" Although he acted normal enough, whatever normal means, i sensed sadness coming from his being. After we ate, I felt nauseous. He turned into a concerning boyfriend rather than a happy one which made me upset since I knew he was keeping his sadness a secret. While he went to clean the kitchen after throwing a blanket on my cold body, I felt even more nauseous and after contemplating on whether or not to run to the bathroom my body decided for me. Vomiting isn't something anyone is fond of, and Jaehyun was even more concerned when he found me lying on the floor against the bathtub. He threw all the food away after that and blamed himself for me getting sick, though It was just a case of me eating way too much. Once in his bed, he kept apologizing and ended up crying but I held him and told him everything was okay. He didn't tell me that every small thing affected him so horribly it'd leave him wishing he'd never been born. He didn't know that those small things were things he couldn't help, but his brain told him that he ruined everything.

May 27th

Sitting in the field of Baby blue eyes with him felt different this time. More peaceful. We laid down side by side watching the clouds, he always said he wanted to float in the clouds but not anything about how he wanted to be buried like the roots of the nemophila we laid on. He didn't tell me he didnt want to grow anymore, not by himself and not with me-not with anyone. Instead he told me how much he loved me, that he'd die for me and told me it all day. He wouldn't let his hands off of me, never letting go of my hand or arm or hips. He wouldn't let go. He asked me to stay the night and keot me in his arms until I had to work the next day, getting upset when I left. He didn't tell me I'd only have a week or two left of this. Left of being in love, left of seeing his pretty smile and those dimples he was known for showing almost all the time. He didn't tell me he was looking for reasons to stay, trying so hard not to give up.

June 16th

When I'd woken up, a feeling of dread left me near tears all day. I hadn't seen Jaehyun in three days and it'd gotten late in the day without a word from him which was unusual. I pushed the uncomfortable feeling to the side until I'd decided to leave to go see him after calling him and texting him repeatedly. While walking out the door I remembered that day when he'd terified me with that talk of blood and death and him throwing his drawing pad. Worry filled my being, making me feel sick as I pushed my bed onto the side to find his blue drawing pad.

Tears stream down my face at the drawing I found. In my hands was the reason for all his weird behavior,all his guilt and all of his pain. He wanted to die. My Jaehyun wanted to disappear from this world forever. I throw the drawing pad in a random direction and run. I call all of our friends and his family, wanting to know if they had seen him. None of them had. I didn't want it to be true.

My legs carried me to the field of baby blue eyes by the streaming river, the sun shining down so brightly and the clouds reminding me of the painting Jaehyun loved so much.

My legs were already cramping but I pushed through that pain to find the love of my life laying in a field of nemophila, his wrists slit so terribly blood is all you could see. Flowing from his wrists to drip onto the plants under him, it was so red and gory I stopped breathing, running over to him to begin screaming while on the phone with one of his best friends. Johnny knew something was wrong, his voice got further away as he told Mark to call someone. To call 911, to get help.

In Jaehyun's hand was a a razor blade and I grabbed it, throwing the wretched thing far from us. I kept shaking him and screaming at him to get up. Nothing worked. Around his neck was the cloud necklace, and despite the horror I could see, he looked extremely peaceful, his eyes shut permanently. My Jaehyun was gone, and he'd died where he loved, but he'd felt so unloved to come to this place.

I'd never enjoy bright sunny days or museums again. I couldn't, not when I couldn't see Jaehyun's dimples or hold his warm hand. As much as he wanted to burn, he'd left the world cold. The sun still shined so brightly down on us as if nothing had ever happened in this place.

🌹

#angst #jung jaehyun #jaehyun angst #nct angst #jung jaehyun angst #sadness #possibly very triggering #bmwriting #bloommelonwrites

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dolanswhore · 6 years

Text

Body!guard gray au - Part 1.

➸ Grayson Dolan body guard AU || A few words before you start to read: This story is will not be your usually fluff story but with a romantic twist but is highly suggested for mature audiences. This story will contain sexuality, language, violence, death and mature themes. Read at your own risk and only if you are comfortable All of this work are my ideas, and I have put a lot of hard work and dedicated my time for this story. Thank you ! tag info at end

Summary: Y/N’s father would do anything to protect his little girl. This includes having his little girl in the hands of a man. Grayson Dolan. This faces many challenges since her father the drug lord of the state has no shortage of enemies. But what happens when Grayson finally finds love? but has to push his feelings away to protect her at all costs!

The air was filled with a thick gray smoke that clouded her throat. The particles of what was destroyed only minutes ago by the bomb that went off covered everyone in suit and blood. The room was chaos, bodies of dead and injured cover the ground. Y/N’s ears rang the only sound heard was the pounding of her heart, ear stinging with pain, her eyes met the people screaming and crying in pain but it wasn’t heard. Chest tightening with every breath taken, blood stained her body to the point she couldn’t tell if it was hers or someone around her. Her father was by her side in seconds seeing he was in the hall when the bomb exploded, tears filling his eyes seeing his daughter covered in blood, sound seemed nonexistent to her as well as he begged her to talk but she couldn’t hear.

The deep breath filled her lungs as they begged for air, she lifts herself against the bed supporting herself with her elbows looking around the room for any signs of a threat. This happened two days ago even though her hearing had came back the paranoid stayed, it haunted her, it didn’t matter where she went it was always there. It was hard to live your live knowing someone wanted you dead.

“Honey are you okay?” Her father asked through the door as calm as he could. He was worried for his daughter’s safety. It was no surprise he had another enemy, in his line of work it was usual but never had any gone after his daughter, and now these nightmares she would get, all hours of the night filled with screams and sadness.

“I’m fine dad, it was just a dream i know that.” Her answer is what he expected always trying to be so strong for everyone but herself.

“I expect you downstairs in an hour. I have something to tell you.” He avoided telling her right know dismissing any future conflict for the moment. All hell would break loose the moment it would be said therefore he will wait until a crowd of people were around them.

The time seemed as if it was punishing her, with every minute passing slowly all she thought of was the body’s of the dead, the blood that painted the walls and herself. Her father had told her endlessly over these few days not to blame herself. How couldn’t she? It was her 19th birthday bash, filled with her closest family and friends. She killed them it was her fault all because she wanted to have a stupid party.

There was no escaping the feeling, every time she tried the imagines subconsciously flashed her eyes. She would never get the sound of the bomb. The atomic sound shaking the ground as a mix of yellow and red fill the air. Her legs shake as she steadily moved to sit on her bed. She is weak not only emotionally but physically. Two days still held tension in her muscles, the deep pain reminding her of her skins every time she tried to move.

The shower was painful but relaxing at the same time. Even though it hurt ever time she moved the hot water relaxed her aches and gave a comforting warmth she needed. She didn’t bother brushing her hair only throwing it into a messy bun and dressed in a pair of fuzzy shorts and a tank top. By the time she got down stairs breakfast was already served, the long table filled with an aray of food from pancakes, eggs to muffins.

“Is someone else here?” She pipes up taking a seat next to her father. He clears his throat with a nod. “Honey I don’t want you to freak out okay?”

“Why woul -.” No voice cut her off but instead the imagine of a tanned, muscular man dressed in a black suit tailored to fit over his figure. The sleeves were a little tight showing the swells of his arm, his chest bulging through the thin material of his white shirt and it didn’t help that the blazer was only buttoned under the hardness of his chest. He nodded with no smile, his lips were a pinkish color she had never seen before, eyes light with hints of brown and green, his cheeks and jaw peppered with a beard. This man was for a fact sculpted by god himself.

“Sir.” He nods at her father and then at her. “Ma’am” He made sure to get a greeting from the both of them before taking his place across the table from Y/N. He was so elegant laying a napkin over his lap before taking a small sip of his water.

“Uhh.. who is this?” The mysterious man’s handsome dimple is still shown despite the hair that covered it but didn’t speak one word.

“It’s Grayson.” Wait what? The little boy who she spent most of her childhood with that would pick his nose on a daily? This wasn’t the awkward boy she remembered finding in the alley years ago. He was a man now, no like actually a grown man with muscles and didn’t look like he picked his nose anymore?

“Wait really?” She smiles sweetly at him and then her father. It had been years since last seeing him. On her 7th birthday, and Gray being 9 her father thought it was time to send him away much like he was by his own father. You see Gray was always seen to her father as his own son.. and little did anyone know Gray was planned to be his assessor as well seeing he never did father a son.

Grayson didn’t even brother to look at her, eyes meeting your father despite how much he did want to take peak, he’s only heard stories of her beauty. The moment he did look up it was a regret as he couldn’t seem to move his eyes from her, she was easily the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, despite the bruises and cuts that covered her face. Her neck on display showing the little burn that could easily be hid by her hair but she could care less.

“Now I have business to discuss with you honey.” Y/N full attention was adverted to her father especially since the tone of his voice was one she hasn’t heard in years. Her father often tried his best to keep her out of the bad aspects that come with being a known crime lord. “You’re going away for a bit, after what happened I think it’s best.”

“What?!” She chokes on her orange juice as the words finally take realization. Her father’s expression said it all, it wasn’t up for debate it had to be done.

“I don’t want attitude or any faces. I cannot have what happened to you happen again. You are all I have left, and i will protect you until my last breath. That’s why Grayson is here, he’s here to protect you.” Her father’s hand met the table with a loud bang of frustration which was usual with his short temper.

“You want Grayson to protect me but he didn’t even bother to look at me or even talk to me!” Feet met the cold wooden floor underneath her feet, suddenly she felt sick, food was no longer an option as the feeling deep inside her stomach wouldn’t allow it.

Grayson didn’t bother to defend himself but it was true, but instead meet her stare, lips tight in a line. “Happy I looked at you?”

A scoff fell from her lips as her father rose to his feet. “You are leaving today, and you will go pack now. End of discussion. Go to your room and pack what you need.”

Y/n knew better then to argue with her father at the moment, no matter what she said or do she would never get her way. Her father will have Grayson drag her into the car if she didn’t agree. In seconds she was in her room, slamming the door with such power the walls shook. The tears were instant as she fell to the bed. She was afraid for her life it was true, ever since that day it haunts her. The constant paranoia of thinking something will just blow her to pieces, even as innocent as her best friend coming over. At this point trusting someone was impossible, and if someone really wanted her dead, everyone has a price.

After many tired hours of packing, the constant lifting and moving made her body twitch in soreness still not recovered from the injuries suffered two days ago. The rough, pounding knock against the door made her jump as fear it was happening again. “Ma’am, It’s time to go.”

“Why do you keep calling me Ma’am?” She grumbles opening the door to see Grayson. His stance professional, back straight, hands cross in front of him on his lap with his ear piece slightly tangled against his collar. “I’m not 30 years old.”

“I work for your father, who is your family, therefore I work for you Ma’am.” His answer was clear as he stepped past her to the packed suitcases that laid on the bed. Easily the bags she couldn’t even move were lifted by each of his hands. The brutal strength this man held was shown as he swiftly moved to the hallway, “Meet you at the car in 5 Ma’am.”

Quickly slipping on a pair of converse and a pull over hoodie she stopped to look around her room one last time before leaving it behind for an indefinite unknown amount of time. The car was like all the other her father’s men drove, a black Range Rover with tinted out windows.

“I don’t need you to get my bags.” She speaks with poison as Gray opens the trunk of the car. He ignores her at first until a small smirk plays his lips, “Don’t worry I got them ma’am.”

Instantly her blood began to boil causing her cheeks to grow red with anger. “You look a little hot, are you okay Ma’am?”

The shit eating grin he possessed didn’t help but her father stopped any words she was about to say by bringing her into his arms. “Grayson will call me when you are somewhere safe, I love you. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have to.”

Despite wanting to stay mad at him for making her endure this, she knew her father was just trying to keep her safe and this was the only way he knew. “I love you too daddy.”

Grayson opened her door signalling it was time to leave and the worst part with him. With one last look to her father she did what was expected. Grayson was right behind her starting the engine with ease but he didn’t move only looked her way. “Seat belt.”

“I never wear my seat belt, I’m not starting now.”

“As long as I am in charge of you, you’re wearing your seat belt. Put it on.” Grayson’s tone was firm but she didn’t care as she popped in her head phones without a words. Grayson reaches over swiftly to reach the belt, the sweet smell of his cologne making it harder to ignore him, with his face so close to hers it was impossible not to examine the soft skin in front of her. His brown eyes harsh but with a face so handsome it was impossible to actually stay mad. In seconds the seat belt was buckled and tightened with a pull.

After what seemed like hours of driving she found herself out of music to listen to and actually hoping Grayson would say something.

“I have to pee.”

Nothing is said, Grayson’s eyes remain on the road in front of him on high alert with the cars around them.

“I have to pee.” Once again nothing, only the tightening of his knuckles around the steering wheel.

“I said I have to pee!” It was said loud enough for him to hear for sure now as he snaps his head in her direction.

“I fucking heard you. We will stop when we reach the check point destination.” Grayson grumbles with whitening knuckles.

“I guess I’ll just pee in this car. The smell of piss won’t bother me.” She argues loudly, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

“I am not your father, I will not deal with you being a brat. You’re 18 Y/N grow up. We will stop when I’m good and ready to.” She didn’t bother talking to rest of the trip, even though she thought it would only piss him off more, she really didn’t feel like fighting.

Finally after a few more hours Grayson had stopped, it was a small cafe but smelt delicious, she didn’t realize how hungry she was until her stomach started growling at the thought of food. Her door opened swiftly by Grayson which signaled it was safe to come out. What she didn’t realize is how stiff her legs would be from sitting for hours not to mention the explosion, she lost her footing but Grayson was there to catch her with his big, muscular arms.

She didn’t bother to say thank you, or to even look at him before walking past him. At this point the least amount of conformation with him the better. There was no getting away from him as he was already in front of her with some quick strides opening the door. They were greeted right away with a smile. “table for two?”

Before a word could even get out Grayson was answering her. “Yes, do you have one away from any windows?”

It was an odd request but the waitress nodded. “of course sir.”

Grayson seemed to approve of the seating as he was the first to sit down in the booth. No words were exchanged between the two as their order were placed.

“Do you want to talk to your father?”

“No.” It was the truth, at the moment she didn’t want to talk to her father, she was still mad at him.

“Everyone keeps looking at your bruises.” He mumbles, “They probably think I did it to you.” It made her scoff, hearing the words come from Grayson’s mouth. She kind of hoped they thought it was him, that they thought of him as lesser because that is truly what he acted like.

“Or maybe it’s that you have an ear piece on in the middle of a restaurant.” Grayson chose to ignore her snarky remark, “It’s sad though I would never harm something so beautiful.”

She was stunned at his words and utterly confused at first he doesn’t even want to talk and is bluntly rude but now calls her beautiful? Choosing to ignore him she rises to her feet to use the bathroom. Grayson’s eyes watch her from the moment she left the table until entering the girl’s room.

Surprisingly Grayson wasn’t at the booth from what she could see as she exited the bathroom. Shots ran out in the ear making her ears vibrate with the closeness along with the screaming on people as she felt a hand push her against the wall. A man dressed in black, that wasn’t grayson pulled her towards the exit but failed miserably as the piles of people pushed to get away from the shooter. Y/N screams loudly, pushing against the attackers chest as another shot ran out. Everything is a blur but the only sight she could make out was Grayson shooting another man dressed in all black.

“Grayson!” She didn’t understand why she was calling his name out in the face of danger but just knew he would die to protect her.

cliffff hanger, sorry guys haha! I will be accepting tags but will only take them with the comment below! if you message me or send it as an ask i will not accept it!!

#grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins #body guard gray #bodyguard

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Overpowered Part 1 (Branjie)- athena2

A/N: It’s here! Thank you to everyone that read and gave feedback on Powerless, you really inspired me to keep this story going. Thank you for continuing on this journey with me! I really hope you enjoy this first chapter, and I would appreciate any comments or feedback you have!

“It’s good to be back, baby!” Vanjie roars, and Frost smiles in agreement. Her smiles come easier now. She doesn’t have to force them like she used to, when spreading a grin across her face was like trying to cut through stone.

The October-orange leaves blur as Vanjie speeds by in the black car she’s named Bertha, and Frost wishes she had about three more seat belts.

“First night back on patrol, let’s do this!” Vanjie continues. “That song should be playing. You know, the one that plays in the movies when people walk all bad-ass like?”

“You mean ‘Back in Black’?”

“That’s the one! That should follow us wherever we go.” Vanjie cackles out the window and Frost grins even as her leg bounces with nerves.

Vanjie puts a steady hand on her thigh. It calms her somewhat, but at this point she thinks she’d be calmer if that hand was on the wheel. “You’re gonna be fine, baby. Just follow my lead,” Vanjie promises.

She parks the car in an alley with a ladder that leads to the roof a Mexican restaurant. “So, we just kinda hang here for now,” Vanjie dangles her legs over the edge of the roof. “It’s nice up here, and Silk calls if she gets any hits on her satellite.”

The view is nice. The city vibrates with life, lights twinkling in the streets below, people humming in the distance, but they’re 30 feet up and there’s no way Frost is sticking her legs off the roof. She crosses them instead, dropping her hands into her lap.

It’s cool outside, and maybe it’s the soft breeze, caressing her gently, or the moon shining off Vanjie’s waves, making her face glow, but Frost doesn’t think she’s ever felt more whole, more in love with Vanjie and the world. Maybe even with herself.

“I used to look for you, you know,” she confesses, high on moonlight. “Once I finished my missions for the night, I’d walk around, hoping I’d find you. It’s like I could think a little clearer when you were there.”

She remembers those nights, when talking to Vanjie was the only thing that felt real in her hazy mind. The only thing reminding her she was still alive.

“Really?” Vanjie smiles at her, eyes kind and warm. “I used to do the same thing, I ain’t gonna lie. When Silk said she spotted you, I used to run, girl. At first I wanted to catch you. Then I kinda just wanted to see you. It was nice, you know? Having someone who understood, I guess.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” She leans in, a hand on Vanjie’s shoulder. She closes the gap between them, lips craving Vanjie’s–

“Bank robbery on 19th,” Silk crackles in their ear comms.

“Great timing, Silk,” Vanjie grumbles.

They race to the bank and Frost keeps her focus on Vanjie. I’m a good person. I deserve to be forgiven. Nina’s words swirl in her brain, but she struggles to make them stick as Frost reminds herself that Vanjie would have been driving to stop her just months ago.

Vanjie hops out and begins teasing the robber, and Frost stands against the car like a magnet is holding her there. She knows Vanjie doesn’t need her help, but she should be offering instead of standing around like an idiot. Vanjie punches him in the jaw and it’s like she’s punched Frost, her mind rattling. Vanjie should be punching me. I’m bad like him. She takes a breath. No, that wasn’t me.

Vanjie pulls handcuffs off her belt and attaches the bank robber to a pole before having Silk call the cops. She leads Frost into an alleyway.

“Brooke,” Vanjie says quietly, and Frost listens. “I know where your mind is going, but try not to let it, okay? Self-blame won’t get you anywhere. Believe me, I know.” She puts her hand on Frost’s cheek, fingers smoothing over her temple. Vanjie is probably the only other person who does know how it feels, and she listens.

She nods.

Vanjie grins. “Come on then. We got more assholes to stop.” —

It’s the day before Vanessa’s birthday and Brooke makes a solo trip to the animal shelter while Vanessa is at the base. It’s the first time she’s gone anywhere alone, really, and her neck is damp with sweat despite the cool air.

She tries to unclench her fists, to stop jumping at every noise. She knows everyone from the lab is gone, but last night she dreamt that they caught her and woke up screaming so loud her throat is still scratchy and every door slam and footstep is the General here to take her away.

Her ears fill with the barks and howls of the shelter and she relaxes. She knows just the dog she wants, a tiny brown and white puppy named Riley whose yips are almost too loud for such a small body to contain.

She keeps looking at the dog and grinning the whole way home, never in her life thinking she’d have someone to give a dog to.

Vanessa is going to love him. —

Even though Vanessa’s birthday isn’t until tomorrow, Brooke just can’t wait.

The second Vanessa gets home, Brooke runs into their spare bedroom, where she’d hidden Riley. “Be good for your mommy,” she whispers, scooping the dog into her arms.

Vanessa’s jaw drops open, but all that comes out are sputtering gasps when Brooke puts the dog in her hands.

“Is it okay?” she asks frantically, chewing her lip. “I know how much you liked the dog you had as a kid and I thought you might want one now…”

“Oh, Brooke,” Vanessa breathes. “He’s perfect.” She kisses his nose and strokes his fur. “I love him.”

They spend the night sprawled on the living room carpet, introducing Riley to the cats and letting the animals crawl all over them.

“We got a regular Noah’s ark in here,” Vanessa laughs, nudging Henry’s paw out of the way to plant a kiss on Brooke’s cheek. —

Vanessa wears a long white gown, ring sparkling on her finger. The sun is a halo behind her but her smile is even brighter, and the “I do” flies out of her mouth before the minister (Nina, for some strange reason) even finishes talking. Brooke leans down and kisses those warm lips–

Brooke opens her eyes. Vanessa’s sleeping, in her pajamas rather than a wedding dress, and the only sun strains to be seen. It’s just past 6, and she should sleep longer but knows she won’t be able to, her body buzzing and her mind wide-awake in anticipation of the party and what she wants to do after.

She pads into the kitchen, feeding the pets and starting on the cake for tonight. She’s slowly becoming more comfortable in the apartment, slowly losing her fear that someone will take her away from it. She doesn’t hesitate as she reaches for the flour and replaces the butter in the butter dish, which she would have never done without asking before. It feels like home, and Brooke allows herself to feel it.

The chocolate cake is in the oven, buttercream is chilling in the fridge, and she’s finishing up the birthday pancakes when Vanessa shuffles in, her pajama pants decorated with ghosts and bats.

Vanessa takes in the mountain of bowls, measuring cups, and spoons piled on the drying rack and her eyes widen in alarm. “You didn’t have another nightmare, did you? I should’ve heard-”

“No, it was a good dream this time.” She steers Vanessa to the table.

“Happy birthday, Ness,” she tests it out, burying her lips in the waves at the top of Vanessa’s head.

“Thank you, baby,” Vanessa tips her head back and cranes her neck up for a kiss.

“This is real maple syrup. I saw it in the store and I really wanted it. It feels like…like a memory? Like I know I’ve had it before?” she attempts to explain, passing the bottle to Vanessa.

Vanessa nods, taking in the colorful plate of fruit she’s laid out on the kitchen table. “You went all out on this, huh?” she asks, piling strawberries on her plate.

Brooke blushes. “Anything for you.”

They both have the day off and Vanessa helps Brooke with the cooking. She pulls out a battered recipe box that she holds with deep reverence, the cards written in neat, looping cursive, and Brooke knows without Vanessa telling her that it belonged to her mother.

They spend the day in the kitchen making all of Vanessa’s favorites, rice and beans, and enchiladas, and macaroni and cheese, and they move around each other with such grace it’s like a dance, with such ease it’s like breathing.

Like they were each an extension of the other’s body, and maybe even of their soul. —

A’Keria and Silk barge in promptly at 7, and Brooke is calm. She is calm through dinner as they regale her with stories from their early days fighting crime, including the night Vanjie got chased by a wild boar that escaped from the zoo.

She is calm as she brings the cake out to oohs and aahs, calm at the absolute butchering of “Happy Birthday”. She is calm as she plucks the candles out, wax soft and warm, as she slides the knife through the chocolate frosting–

A little blonde girl with green eyes beams at her gigantic chocolate cake, seven candles glowing in the thick frosting. A kind woman with similar eyes smiles at her, tells her to make a wish–

Her fingers remain stiff as the knife is pried out of her hand, a glass of water pushed into it seconds later. She lifts it to her mouth numbly, letting out a relieved sigh as her surroundings refocus and she sees Vanessa has brought her to the kitchen.

“My mom,” she explains hoarsely. “I think I saw my mom.”

“Oh, Brooke,” Vanessa soothes, rubbing her back. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. I-I just never saw her before, and she’s…well, you know…” she trails off, choking back a sob.

“But it was nice,” she continues. “I think I look like her a little.”

Vanessa smiles, sadness clouding her eyes. “I’m happy you got to see her. I just wish the flashbacks didn’t take so much out of you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I hate when they happen in front of everyone, they must think I’m-”

“Brooke, they know what an amazing person you are. This doesn’t change anything. And I better not hear any apologies from you on my birthday,” she warns, face stretching into a grin.

Brooke laughs and lets Vanessa lead her back to the dining room.

Silk and A’Keria look concerned, but there’s nothing unkind in their expressions. This doesn’t change what they think of me, she reminds herself.

“Vanessa’s been talking about this cake all week. She makes you sound like damn Martha Stewart. We gonna try it or what?” A’Keria demands, and Brooke cuts the cake. —

Vanessa marches into the living room with a slim box under her arm and the grin of a tiger stalking prey on her face.

“Don’t think I forgot, hoe,” Vanjie thrusts the Monopoly box at Silk.

“Oh, shit,” A’Keria mutters. “Brooke, you got more wine? Hell, I’ll take the whole bottle.”

“Is this a thing?” Brooke asks, giving A’Keria the wine while Silk and Vanessa set up the board and pick pieces like military generals planning a battle.

“This is kind of our birthday tradition. Oh, my child. You have no idea what you’re about to witness. If you got anything valuable in this living room, you might want to put it away.”

Brooke’s not sure if A’Keria is serious, but she grabs the vase that was Vanessa’s mother’s and stashes it in their bedroom just in case. She settles on the rug as A’Keria drains another glass.

The next two hours are a war like Brooke has never seen. She’s pretty sure actual war is tamer than this. The board is held together with duct tape and covered in suspicious red stains; some of the cards are singed around the edges and the shoe piece has been replaced with a hot pink Barbie heel. Brooke’s been enlisted to hand out money, as the most trustworthy of the group, and has two paper cuts on her fingers from Silk snatching it out of her hands. A’Keria sports a dime-sized bruise on her arm after Vanessa pelted her with dice. Silk uses her wad of cash as a fan and a weapon when she owes someone money. A’Keria hides her money beneath her ass (Vanessa yells that she can fit the entire Federal Reserve under there). Brooke feebly sticks hers in her back pocket and Vanessa stuffs her shares down her shirt, ruthlessly collecting payments from the others. Brooke wonders if they’ll be here until Christmas when Silk and Vanessa both launch the board a little after midnight, propelling money and game pieces across the apartment and prompting a 10-minute argument over who actually flipped it first. A’Keria is blissfully drunk (she’s already spilled some on the board, another battle scar) and helps Brooke pick up the game pieces, some of which have scattered all the way to the bathroom.

Vanessa is still insisting Silk cheated when she heads into the bedroom. She pulls off her sweater and tosses it to the floor, and Brooke knows now is the time.

Brooke stands nervously in the doorway. She unbuttons her shirt with shaky fingers, reminds herself that Vanessa has seen her scars before and doesn’t care, doesn’t think any less of her for them. Nina’s told her several times that the scars from the bad things the lab did don’t make her bad, don’t make her any less deserving of love. But the fear still remains that Vanessa won’t want her.

“Um, there’s one more thing I want to give you.”

Vanessa’s eyes go wide as she realizes.

“Brooke, you’re sure? We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, or because you think you have to.”

“I’m sure.”

She’s never been more sure of anything. —

Brooke collapses onto the pillow breathlessly, Vanessa doing the same.

“Was it okay? I don’t know if I’ve ever…I don’t remember, anyway-”

“Relax, Mary! Brooke, it was amazing. It was everything. You’re everything.” She presses a kiss to Brooke’s cheek before wrapping her in a warm, sleepy embrace. —

“Ow! What the hell?”

“What is it?”

“I stepped on a fucking Monopoly racecar!”

“I knew we were missing a piece!” —

There’s only days until the new recruits arrive and Brooke’s whole body is tense, like she’s expecting some blow to come. It’s that second when your chair tips too far back, and you’re desperately clawing at the air, trying to regain your balance before you fall backwards.

Only she’s stuck there.

In three days she brings cookies, brownies, and donuts for everyone to eat at the base because she just can’t sleep, not even when Vanessa holds her. What little sleep she does get is plagued with nightmares of being back at the lab, needles piercing her arm and the General laughing in her face.

“Why do you think you’ve been anxious, Brooke?” Nina’s voice is kind across the desk.

She looks down at her lap, like a kid called on in class when they haven’t been paying attention.

“There’s no right or wrong answer,” Nina says gently, like she’s read Brooke’s mind.

“P-probably…probably because the new recruits are coming Wednesday?”

“Why do you think you’re anxious about that?”

Now that she’s admitted the fear out loud, the floodgates are open and the worries come rushing out. “Because I don’t know them! How do I know I can trust them? What if they find out about me and think I’m bad? What if they don’t like me, or they think I’m crazy or weak or something? And then they’ll tell Silk, and she’ll realize how bad I am too.”

She chews on her nails and Nina passes her the squeeze ball she keeps on her desk for when Brooke gets fidgety.

“You’re none of those things, Brooke, and I’m sure these new recruits will see that. I do think your fears are valid, but keep in mind that Silk wouldn’t have picked anyone she didn’t think was trustworthy.”

Brooke nods, the ball compressing under her grip. It makes sense when Nina puts it that way.

“They also don’t know anything about your past. Your information is your information. They won’t know anything unless you want them to, and it’s fine if you don’t want them to, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, now that you’ve gotten the worries out of the way, I want you to imagine this going well. What are some good things that could happen?”

Nina’s asked her to do this before. It’s supposed to help her stop catastrophizing and focus on good outcomes. “Um, they might like me?”

“Good! What else?”

“Maybe I’ll like them?” Her voice grows steadier. “And maybe we’ll be friends, and if I did decide to tell them about me, they wouldn’t care.”

“That’s great, Brooke! I want you to think of those when you start to worry, okay?”

Brooke nods. Maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad. —

Nina’s advice gets her through the next day, but Wednesday comes and Vanessa grips Brooke’s sweaty hand in her own as A’Keria leads them to the conference room to meet the new girls.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Vanessa assures her as they walk in.

“This is Scarlet and Yvie,” A’Keria gestures to the two women talking to Silk in the corner. There’s a certain intimacy between them, the same intimacy Brooke sees between her and Vanessa.

Scarlet’s bright red hair glimmers like copper. She seems confident and unbothered, and it’s a little unnerving to Brooke, the way she stands there like she owns the place. But her smile is wide and warm, and her eyes are kind as she shakes Brooke’s hand.

Yvie is nearly as tall as Brooke, with long, lanky limbs that Brooke thinks would contort like a Slinky. “You can just call me Yvie, you don’t have to use the code name,” she says quickly. “Silk told me I had to have one, but I don’t really give a shit about the secret identity. Then you got this one here-” she throws an arm around Scarlet fondly “-who puts her own damn name in the superhero name.”

“So what are you hoes’ powers?” Vanessa demands.

“I scream like a bitch,” Scarlet deadpans before bursting into laughter. “No, seriously, my voice has sonic vibrations that knock people out.”

“I see shit,” Yvie adds. “I’m like, lowkey psychic, I guess? I see visions of stuff that happens, and I try to save people who are in trouble. But it’s not always super-specific or anything.”

“And we know all about you two!” Yvie continues and Brooke’s heart beats like a drum in her ears. They know.

“Fire and ice, how fucking metal is that?” She turns to Vanessa. “Does your head catch on fire like Hades in Hercules? Also, y’all should totally give me your birth information so I can do your astrological charts,” she crows excitedly.

Brooke breathes a sigh of relief. Then it hits her that the only information she has on herself and her birth is in an untouched folder stuffed in her dresser, because as much as she wants to know she just can’t bring herself to open it.

“Don’t mind this one. She loves to talk.” Scarlet rolls her eyes, but the love in them is clear.

“So, I think we’ll start the meeting now-” Silk starts.

“Anyone else hot in here?” Vanessa interrupts, gathering her hair into a ponytail.

“You’re always hot, girl,” A’Keria says.

“Damn right I am,” Vanessa shoots back, and Brooke snorts, feels some tension crest out of her shoulders. Vanessa slips an arm around her waist and just the weight of it is an anchor.

“Your hair,” Yvie breathes, leaning in and getting a good look at Vanessa’s face, like she’s suddenly seeing her for the first time. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“Um, there’s no easy way to say this, but I had a vision last night of this girl, and you’re her. And in the vision, you, well…”

“Spit it out, Mary.”

“You were dead.”

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canadachronicles · 6 years

Quote

(...) The full moon swung her ripened sphere As from a vine; and clouds, as small As vine leaves in the opening year, Kissed the large circle of her ball. The stars gleamed thro' them as one sees Thor' vine leaves drift the golden bees.

This verse from Isabella Valancy Crawford’s Beside the Sea, always reminds me of Katie and that warm June night we spent dancing and strolling on the Harbourfront, (although it was Lake Ontario in lieu of sea) a few days shy of my twenty-ninth birthday.

It had been a lovely, lovely night. Katie is heaps of fun, and a true gentlewoman, which is why maybe, I think of her whilst reading 19th century poetry.

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loquaciousquark · 7 years

Text

30th Wintermarch. Sunlight peeked through the cloud cover for almost a full two minutes this afternoon and I nearly took flight from joy

I’ve been reading Art and Shame: Forbidden Wonders of Faith by Foisine De Petitforet, and aside from the forbidden wonder of Foisine’s name, I am vastly intrigued by the asides she keeps adding in the margins of the more controversial pieces. One of them talks about how she believes the absence of clear power always leads to the worst person possible seizing it, and I couldn’t help but think about Kirkwall.

The viscount’s seat has been empty almost three years now. There are more templars than city guard in the streets these days, and Aveline says Meredith’s officers keep coming to her demanding she account for herself whenever she makes a decision that doesn’t involve them. She’s refused them so far--she says she won’t ever turn over the city’s authority to what ought to be a Gallows-restricted arm of the Chantry, no matter how much they press, but Donnic looks uneasy when she says so.

Well, it’s not

Hm. I was going to say it’s not any of my business, but somehow it feels like everyone will be caught up in it whether they like it or not. (Elthina would prefer not, according to Sebastian, but I think she thinks Meredith and Orsino are more reasonable than history has shown me.)

Well! I shall remain optimistic. Until the city starts coming down around us, anyway, and then I shall take my dog and my favorite blanket and flee into the hinterlands to live as a hermit for the rest of my days, eating rabbits and the moss that grows on trees and shaking my staff at passersby.

13th Guardian. Shocking cold front came through last night--all the world’s icy glass. Very pretty and violently annoying, especially when one’s great hall holds heat as well as a linen dropcloth

Was at Elegant’s today for tea, and Tomwise came! It was the first time she and he and Worthy and I had all been in the same place since before I moved to Hightown. Had a marvelous time reminiscing about simpler (poorer) years, and then Elegant’s husband came in to say hello and we all went prim as roses. He knows, I think, but he’s awfully dour about questionable legality, so she’s asked us to avoid the more overtly murderous stories when he’s around.

Reminds me of Stinton, to be quite honest, with the difference that Elegant seems to genuinely like her husband. Curious!

Tomwise did say business has been worryingly good lately. He said the Coterie’s been ordering poisons in bulk, that everyone seems to be feeling the tension lately. Not much any of us can do for it from Elegant’s tea-room.

Oh! And Elegant told me Aveline’s not the only one with Chantry bells ringing--Jule and Pelarie are getting married in the summer! I’m to be invited over Lady Ashbridge’s objections as I’m the one who introduced them. I’m so glad for them--and if nothing else, they’ll be able to get away from their mothers now. Oh, good for them both. Maker keep them in health and happiness, at least until they’ve managed their own place.

19th Guardian. Not quite as cold, but "brisk” is the most generous of interpretations

Rarely does a trip to the market leave me quite so wrung. Then again, rarely do I eavesdrop quite as blatantly as I did (I’m normally much more surreptitious), so perhaps it’s what I deserved.

I just wanted some sweets. There’s a chocolatier beside Jean-Luc’s who makes the most amazing honeyed almonds and nut brittle, and I thought it might be a nice surprise tomorrow at cards. Merrill’s been bringing this sweet dessert-y liqueur along lately, and it seemed like it would match well. (I also managed to find the owner of that little carved figurine with “Bright Heart” engraved on the bottom--turns out it belongs to a little girl who lives just down the road from Jean-Luc, a gift from her father for her seventh birthday. It had fallen out of her bag and he’d taken her all over the city without luck. Glad I could find that one’s home again.)

Anyway, after I finished off the first little bag of almonds myself and had to go back for a second to actually bring to WG, I was walking back through the Hightown Market and happened to glimpse Orana standing at a stall I didn’t recognize, one of the new ones that came in with that Orlesian caravan last month. It was covered in fancy silks and the trader wore a silk half-mask lined in jewels. (I wish I were joking. And considering I strongly doubt an Orlesian would be caught dead in paste rubies, that mask was almost certainly worth more than my entire wardrobe.)

She was asking about a pipe. I knew why the moment I saw it--it’s perfect for Bodahn--he’s been looking for something like it for years, as long as I’ve known him. It was made of meerschaum and had a lovely intricate geometric pattern carved into it. Very beautiful and very dwarvish. And very expensive, which is why the merchant wore a sneer so enormous it knocked his mask askew.

I tell you, journal, I was ready to storm him like the Black City. I was halfway across the square when I saw Orana draw herself up in that way that usually means I’m about to be crushed like a beetle, so I--well, I stopped, and ducked in the most awkward fashion behind Hubert’s stand so she wouldn’t notice.

Orana’s trade is very good. I forget how good, sometimes, aside from the occasional odd sentence structure, because she has hardly any accent. That changed for this merchant. She went full Tevinter on him--cold as ice, her accent thickening with all those heavy vowels that could make anyone sound noble, even a slight elf of barely twenty, and even though she didn’t raise her voice in the slightest she made it perfectly clear that her patronage was an honor to him instead of the other way around, that everyone in this city knew who she was and in whose household she served, and that if he didn’t improve his demeanor immediately he would find his tariffs of import abruptly so high he’d have to forgo the feed for his mule and pull his silken cart himself.

Flames, but he went white. Gave her a mighty discount, too, and flinched when she scattered the coins on his stand instead of handing them to him directly, as if she couldn’t bear to touch him. I didn’t even know her face was capable of haughty. Haught?

I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d half a mind to go after her and make sure she was all right, if nothing else, but then who should come around the corner but Fenris, and when Orana saw him she went straight up and said something in Tevene I couldn’t follow. He looked concerned, but not unduly so, and said something back in the same language, and then he turned and went with her back up the stairs towards the Amell estate and out of sight.

I’ve been thinking about it all day.

Did she learn that behavior from Hadriana? She must have--I can’t imagine someone as gentle as she says her father was teaching her such things. It was certainly effective in putting that snide little man in his place, but...surely it must rankle to have to pull on lessons learned during slavery when you thought you were free, learned from someone infinitely cruel, who taught only by example on you and on the ones you loved.

Or is it worth it? If the payoff is forcing someone to respect you at last, when no one ever has before. When no one ever thought they should.

I wondered if Danarius

I think Merrill would say everyone ought to respect everyone else just because they’re people. I wish someone had taught the Orlesian merchant that lesson.

I asked Varric to help temporarily misplace some of his paperwork on the way out, though, just out of spite.

25th Guardian. Drizzly, chilly

Fenris said Orana was a little shaken but otherwise all right. She hadn’t meant to make a scene but his mask had reminded her of a man who used to attend Hadriana’s parties who made the slaves’ lives miserable, and she grew so angry she had to stand up for herself, and by proxy for them. She hadn’t thought it would work quite so well and was a little afraid he’d come after her, which is why she’d asked Fenris to help her get home.

He didn’t elaborate further, and I didn’t ask. Even I can tell when there are parts of a story I’m not meant to hear.

I will say Bodahn adores the pipe, and Orana looked so proud as she gave it to him that it all seemed worth it. Though I suppose that’s for her to decide, not me.

(I’d still very much like to give that fellow a knock right over the Hightown wall. Hmph.)

9th Drakonis. I hate Drakonis. What a miserable month

Letter from Carver today I’ll tuck in for safekeeping later. He reminded me of how he and Bethany used to talk in their own language and make me so angry at being left out. For whatever reason they’d slowly stopped using it as they grew up, and I’d forgotten all about it... Apparently there’s a set of twin sisters in one of the Warden units and they can read each other so well they don’t even have to speak.

I wonder if they have a sister at home waiting for their letters too. I’m wondering all sorts of things these days, it seems.

14th Drakonis. Toby took two steps out the back door this morning and immediately came back in soaking wet and exceedingly indignant

Spent most of the morning’s trip out to the Coast wondering why Fenris’s scarf looked so familiar. I’d forgotten it’s the one I’d given him two Satinalias ago, oops. At least it looks very warm.

Came home in time to hear Orana reading off a shopping list to Bodahn, and had the realization three damned years late that for all the time I spent teaching Fenris to read, it never one flaming time occurred to me to ask if Orana could.

Bodahn said her father had taught her a handful of letters in secret, and Bodahn himself had taught her the rest, a few months after she’d arrived. He didn’t mention it because it was right after Mother had died and he’d thought I’d had enough on my plate.

Not too much for that, though. I wish he’d told me. I wish it had occurred to me any moment before today.

He said she had been a very quick study but hadn’t wanted me to know, in case I’d been angry she’d learned. Then she’d grown to understand us all better, but by that time it hardly seemed worth bringing up because everyone around her was reading, anyway.

Damn.

Damn!

25th Drakonis. Almost comfortable outside, which is saying a great deal

Got Orana a little journal. I haven’t the faintest idea if she’ll use it, but burn me at the pyre if she doesn’t at least have the chance.

Had such vivid dreams of Fenris last night I was quietly panicking about desire demons all morning, but Merrill says she’s not noticed anything lately. (That could be because she’s been so deep in the mirror issue she hasn’t seen daylight in weeks, but who am I to break mirrors, no matter how much I might wish to?)

In other news, Aveline marries in just under six weeks! Had Sebastian and me over yesterday to help her with a few details, since Sebastian has an in with the Chantry and I have exquisitely fine taste. And the willingness to carry things from room to room, which I suspect is more the purpose Aveline wished. She said Donnic intends to ask Fenris to stand up with him and she wanted to be sure I was all right, since I’m standing up with Aveline. Of course, said I, almost entirely meaning it, but it was at least enough to convince her to drop the subject.

I made her show me her gown at the end. White and gold, and Merrill’s going to make her a crown of marigolds for her hair. She will be beautiful. Is, too, but when they open those doors Donnic will see the light of the Maker coming to meet him.

Aveline told me (very gruffly) that she’d sent an invitation to Isabela’s last known location, but hadn’t heard anything in return. She knows as well as I do not to expect anything from that quarter. If three years without my scintillating company hasn’t brought the pirate wench home again, Aveline’s wedding hardly will either.

Ugh.

I know very well that the only reason I’m so bitter is that I miss her dreadfully. How tedious, to be so aware of one’s faults and too stubborn to do a single thing to rectify them.

19th Cloudreach. The sun shone today so brightly the sea nearly looked warm

Drowning in wedding preparations. Should I ever marry, I will stand before a Chantry mother with no one else present and not an ounce of cake. I’m not even sure I’ll allow my spouse-to-be to attend.

25th Cloudreach. Went out without coat or scarf today and skipped across Hightown at how light it felt

Anders has been rather withdrawn lately, so I went to Darktown this morning to help him out at the clinic. I’d made up some potions and poultices from the cache of elfroot we found rooting out those slavers last month, and I thought that’d be enough to please him. Instead he looked hollow-eyed and thin as paper, and barely said “thank you” before asking me to help him dig through sewer waste.

He looked as bitter as he did during that whole mess with Alrik a few years ago, down in the tunnels beneath the city. There weren’t even any innocent girls to nearly kill this time, so I haven’t any idea why he’s so faint.

He did say there had been unfortunate circumstances regarding certain underground factions. He wouldn’t tell me anything else.

That man used to trust me, once.

30th Cloudreach. Promise of clear warmth on the horizon--it better follow through, too, or I’m taking it straight to Andraste

Night before Summerday, and the night before Aveline’s wedding! She’s staying here at the estate tonight so we can all help her get ready tomorrow. It’d have been a shorter walk to the Chantry from the barracks, but she’d have also had to walk through the barracks in her wedding dress, and even now I think there are some things she’d like to keep private. Even if she does look splendid in this gown.

We hosted a small dinner for her and Donnic tonight--the big wedding feast will be tomorrow, but this was just for us and two of Donnic’s brothers. Anders came--I doubted, but he did--and Merrill, and Sebastian and Fenris and Varric, and everyone was so civil to each other I nearly fainted from shock.

One of Donnic’s brothers also asked to take me to dinner some time, which was very funny. Not at the time--I know my eyes flickered a bit helplessly between all involved and utterly oblivious parties scattered across the room--and then I shrugged and said I was complicatedly in love with someone who either complicatedly returned the sentiment or just deeply enjoyed stringing me along, but I’d look him up should it ever fall through. He laughed and thanked me for my honesty, and brought me another glass of wine to drown my sorrows.

I asked Aveline, later, how she was feeling. Bittersweet, she said... she had been thinking of Wesley a great deal, and wondering about Donnic’s parents, and daydreaming about how their lives might change over the next few years. She said she’d worried about falling in love again, once upon a time, until my mother had sat her down and talked the sense right into her again. She’d told her hearts always found a little room to grow, no matter the scars, and that happiness could sometimes be all the sweeter for the grief that came before.

I will say only it had better not show the slightest peep of a cloud tomorrow. After everything else, she deserves to have decent weather on her wedding day.

1st Bloomingtide, Summerday, clear as a glass and warm and beautiful in every way, thank you Andraste for your kindness, I’m blowing you dozens of kisses

They are married. Beautiful weather, and a beautiful ceremony--as I’d thought, Donnic nearly toppled over as he and Aveline came out the doors towards each other and he tripped twice walking her down the aisle to the Chantry mother. Merrill’s marigolds shone in the sun like little suns of their own. She’d done a circlet of sorts that trailed down in the back and wove through Aveline’s hair, which was loose for the first time in my memory and softened her so much I should hardly have recognized her if I hadn’t been the one helping her do it.

Donnic looked marvelous, too. He wore a simple brown suit and a white vest with just a trim of gold around the buttons--a sound decision, given he’s so steadfast and calm, and leagues better than the flashy embroidered nonsense all over the last society wedding I attended with Mother. Not that I think he could see a thing aside from Aveline’s face the whole hour the mother spoke, anyway.

Fenris and I were right behind them, and I’m delighted to report, journal, that I was so preoccupied with my overweening gladness for Aveline that I handled myself with more aplomb than I’ve ever managed in my life. He wore the same coat he did the night he came to the Champion’s ball for me, and I must say it looked sharp as a knife next to my own dark yellow gown (less fine than Aveline’s, naturally, but it was kinder to me than some shades she nearly chose).

I will also say I was very, very pleased at the attendance. More of the guard came than I expected, and all our friends, of course, and Donnic’s enormous family, but so too came quite a few friends of both Aveline and Donnic I hardly knew aside from the faces. We didn’t quite fill the Chantry, but it was awfully close, and anyway they all looked glad enough for the two of them I was satisfied.

The feast after was enormous and had excellent wine. Varric found some artisan pâtissier straight from the Winter Palace who is the direct cause of my pants not fitting tonight, and between the glorious Fereldan-style flat cake and the three-tiered champagne glass tower, it’s a wonder anyone will be able to roll out of bed tomorrow.

Aveline and Donnic are away tomorrow morning for a honeymoon in Orlais. No one will say precisely where, though I’m certain Varric knows, and for once I’m glad she’ll be away so long. We’ve all promised to keep an eye on the guard in her absence, just in case the templars begin edging somewhere they shouldn’t. (Not, in retrospect, that I’ll likely be able to do much, but a promise is a promise.)

They played Fereldan fiddle songs once everyone was deep enough in their cups to dance without worrying about what their neighbors might thing. I haven’t danced the River Dane’s Line since Lothering, though more people knew it than I’d thought, and then they played Those Sweet Brown Eyes, Oh, and before I could help it I looked over and saw Fenris across the room looking back at me. It was the same tune we danced to a hundred years ago at the Hanged Man for Satinalia, when Mother was still alive and I was wondering if we’d ever be friends again.

He smiled when he saw me looking. Neither of us danced--the whole room was between us, and by the time I’d have reached him the squares would have been set, but I could see the memory was as plain for him as it was for me, and as pleasant.

He did come over after and compliment both my dress and the decorations (part of my wedding present). This time I had the presence of mind to admire his coat in candlelight, instead of the shadows behind shrubbery, and it looks as good on him as I’d thought. It has just the barest lining of gold thread at the sleeve cuffs and the trim of the wide belt, and he wears it so very well.

One final note, and then I must sleep: towards the end of our conversation, Donnic’s brother (the middle one, who asked me to dinner the other week) came up and joined us in the conversation. He said nothing overt and was as pleasant throughout as any family of Donnic’s ought to be, but at the end he bowed over my hand and told Fenris that should he ever cede the war, he’d be happy to take up the colors in his place.

Fenris looked confused long enough for me to stumble over some nonsense explanation as Donnic’s brother left, but I’m certain he put it together soon enough. One day I should like to meet someone who declines to heckle me to my face.

It was a beautiful wedding, though.

#fenris #hawke #fenris/hawke #dragon age #quark writes #hawke's journal tag #and some #aveline/donnic

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lady-poppy-verona-blog · 7 years

Text

million dollar houses (the painter)

“i’ve broken bones for you, and for you only”

((aka: practice challenge one. title and quote creds to pierce the veil)) ((unedited))

🌸

justin, who she would never have called for something like this, is more than willing to help her fill out this shitty paperwork.

well, maybe not shitty. but it’s not something she enjoys.

her parents are half forcing her to join the selection. the other half is god damn, she really needs to get over andrew. she’s always viewed the selection the same way her older sister, daisy, does- stupid, pointless, misogynistic, unlikely to work. but she’ll do it anyways, because, yeah, she’s kind of lonely without someone to cuddle with, and yeah, her family, while they are pretty well off for both their area (a rather expensive, two filled portion of honduragua, right on the beach) and their caste (fives, but by now her father has probably sold enough artwork to buy their way up a caste), still need money to keep themselves going.

who knows, maybe it will work out. she snickers out loud at that thought. justin looks at her, eyebrow raised. “you good there, pal?”

“the answer is a very big ‘no, not really, but thanks for asking’,” poppy answers with a shrug. “okay, you’re the one always telling me how great i am, so tell me what’s great about me specifically, because you know that i hate myself.”

as they filled out the form, poppy thinks back to just what got her to agree to this ridiculous display, something she wouldn’t of done otherwise.

🌸

just a few months before poppy’s 19th birthday, she was dumped. andrew, that absolute dickhead, decided that instead of actually trying to make things work during the draft, he’d breakup with his girlfriend of almost four years at the very coffee shop they’d met each other. she never got anything to let her know he was safe- no letter, no text, no phone call, nothing.

at least she had her friends, though- justin, keri and aisling were always there for her, even when they had better things to do than hold her while she cried and ate ice cream (keri) or tell her that he was a dick who didn’t deserve her (ais) or put up with watching stupid rom coms over and over again (justin). she had made a deal with herself that she was done wasting tears over him three weeks after he had left and returned to dedicating her time to what she really cared about: painting, teasing her younger sister, learning welsh because she had no life, longboarding to the beach with keri.

she hears a knock on her door, the one they’d come up with as children so they'd know it was who it was when they’d visit each other. keri pokes her head in as poppy drops a paint brush back into the already clouded mug of water. keri hugs her from behind, looking at her work. “did you mean to paint in… what is this, gaelic?”

“welsh, actually. daisy’s husband-you know, the teacher?- has a textbook about old welsh kings and the language and such she thought i’d be interested, so she sent it to me,” she says with a grin. lines and lines of dark green writing curl over a sky blue background saying one thing over and over: rwy'n colli chi-i miss you. there’s little spatters of pinks and purples and oranges, looking like flowers falling from the sky.

“it’s pretty. i don’t know who this would sell to, though.” she looks at it appraisingly, probably already trying to figure out mat and frame measurements. she worked at her family’s craft store, framing photos and cleaning up after hours.

poppy shrugs. “i was actually thinking of keeping this one. it’s kind of personal.” it’s about andrew, and keri probably knows it by now. she does miss him, and it almost hurts to go through her pictures on her old, broken-ish phone and have to scroll past pictures of them- cuddling, laughing, kissing- that she can’t bear to delete.

“why are you still hung up on him, p? he’s an idiot who didn’t deserve you and probably has a tiny penis.” she sighs and sits down on poppy’s bed, picking up her book (a history of wales) and attempts to read it without disturbing the leaf poppy has been using as a bookmark.

poppy snatches the book from her, closes it back up, and tucks it in her book drawer, which is full of books she’s reading for the first time and hasn’t finished yet. “he doesn’t. i’ve seen it.” she releases her hair from the ponytail it’s been trapped in and runs her hands through it as she blushes slightly. she hadn’t told anyone about that except for daisy, her older sister, who hadn’t taken it too well. there was a lot of whisper yelling on that phone call.

keri’s jaw drops. “you what?” she leans towards poppy, her voice dropping to a whisper. “did you guys… you know…”

poppy stifles a laugh. “god no. we knew better.” they did, but it was difficult. it’s hard to keep it in your pants when you’re two teenagers in love, but they managed to never go all the way, but still pretty far.

keri shuddered. “let's change the subject please, i don’t want to hear about your nasty secret life. you wanna hear about my and madi’s gig last night? it was a shit show.” madi, one of keri’s friends, often accompanied her on piano while keri sang at parties. “so it’s at some asshole Two’s house for their six year old daughter, right? so we prepare some disney music and some fun little instrumental things and the parents walk up to us about five songs in and tell us, and i quote, that “our daughter has slightly more refined taste.” can you fucking believe it? so they make us play like jazz music so i sang approximately 18 different etta james songs and i did bing crosby. i’m so pissed.” she shakes her head and laughs. “i like jazz, but that’s not what we prepared. what entitled asshats.”

poppy smirks, glad she doesn’t have to deal with that. her family, all painters, had always made clear that if they were commissioned and the person didn’t like the piece, they would pay for the supplies wasted on the unwanted item as well as a new painting. “that’s rough.” she grabs her mug of tea (labeled in sharpie with “not paint water”) and stands up. “let’s go do something. i’m sick of working.”

as they leave the house, poppy ducks her head into her mom’s study to let her know where she’s going, a holdover from the neighborhood they used to live in- a dirty, dangerous area, where anything could, and probably would, happen, even in broad daylight. “me and keri are going out, probably the fairgrounds and the skatepark. i’ll see you later.”

“okay mari, be safe. i love you,” her mom says as she stands up to give her a hug.

“love you too, momma.”

an abandoned fairground is fun during the day, but even more fun (and creepy) at night. the amount of times she and justin have snuck out here at 2 am is shocking, and the amount of times she and keri have snuck out here at 2 pm is even more. looking out at the little dents and trash where the rides used to be reminds her of times, recently or years ago, she’s gone under the framework of a roller coaster or the back of a mirror maze to fool around with someone- get a little action with a fling, get a little nasty with her boyfriend, or wallow in self pity and make out with keri where no one could judge them for taking out all their sexual frustration as of late on each other. they find the one staple of the fairgrounds, a large, rocky outcrop that’s fun to climb and even more fun to sit on top of and just bitch about anything and everything.

keri grabs her hand, pulling her up and onto the top of the outcropping. “has your family gotten the letter yet?”

poppy raises an eyebrow curiously. “what letter?” she manages to get her legs comfortably swung over the edge. keri gives her a rather pointed glance, waiting for her to get what she’s referencing. poppy still doesn’t get it, and tells keri as much.

keri snickers. “from the palace? about the selection?” poppy shakes her head. “you seriously don’t know what i’m talking about? well, our future esteemed leader”-eyeroll- “is a grown ass man now apparently, and therefore needs a pretty woman to stand next to him and look pretty while he cheats on her the entire time. so, we have a selection to find said pretty woman and possibly the woman to cheat on her with. true love.”

poppy laughs. “you poor gay soul. how will you ever find love now?”

“fuck you, pick a side.” keri says with a smile. “no, but i was going to ask whether you were going to apply or not, especially since you’re single and lonely now.”

“i mean, i could, but the likelyhood of me finding love there is a zillion to one. besides, i dunno if i’m over andrew yet and i don’t want to subject people to that kind of emotional pain.” poppy shakes her head. “so no, i don’t think i will.”

keri ponders this for a moment. “if you do get selected, it might help you get over him. you might find love or something gross like that.”

“i don’t want to. i want to stay here and wallow in self pity.”

“if you don’t apply, i’m won’t make out with you ever again.”

poppy looks over at her. “you wouldn’t.”

“i would. you can’t just use being physical with someone to distract you from your nasty heterosexual feelings. and i don’t care that i’m lonely too, so don’t try to play that card with me.” keri says. she begins to climb down. “let’s go to the skatepark. this is boring.”

when she got home later, her mom and younger sister, lily, ushered her into her mother’s study. “mariana, look what i have for you!” estefani said in a whisper yell.

“pop pop, you have a letter from the palace!” lily said in a yell yell.

estefani mendoza-verona was the strongest woman poppy knew. she had emigrated with her family from brazil when she was 13, five years before she had married poppy’s father, martin, and knew almost no english. they had come from an artistic background in brazil, so the illéan immigration system had placed them as fives. her family had to battle people for every job they got, and estefani had to learn english for all of them, as her parents were older and her siblings were young. when she met martin, who came from a far richer family than hers, she was able to finally support herself and start to help her parents.

all this, and she was still supermodel gorgeous and now fluent in four languages. she tends to switch languages halfway through a sentence, which is what she’s doing now, overly excited about her daughter’s opportunity. “é para a seleção, and i know you’re still getting over sabes quién, but me and lily thought you’d be interested. besides, there’s some good money, et dieu sait que nous pourrions utiliser cela.”

poppy, who gets her love of languages from her mother, understands every word, even the french at the end, which is a little surprising. “eu sei, mãe, mas eu não sei se vale a pena para mim. eu não terminei andrew e não sei se estou pronto para encontrar alguém.”

lily looks at them, annoyed. she barely understands portuguese, and hates being unable to follow a conversation. “what are you saying? is it about the selection?”

poppy laughs. “yes lils, it’s about the selection. mamãe wants me to enter, but i don’t know. there’s good money, but what about andrew?”

lily screws her face up in disgust. “i hate him. he’s mean. you should join just to spite him.”

“i like the way you think, sister sister. who knew you could be so evil?” poppy says, giving her a high five and giggling.

“so you’ll do it?” estefani asks. “you’ll enter?”

poppy thinks for a minute. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

🌸

((here’s the translations lol:

“é para a seleção”- it’s for the selection (portuguese)

“sabes quién”- you know who (spanish)

“et dieu sait que nous pourrions utiliser cela” - and god knows we could use that (french)

“eu sei, mãe, mas eu não sei se vale a pena para mim. eu não terminei andrew e não sei se estou pronto para encontrar alguém”- i know, mom, but i don’t know if it's worth it to me. I’m not over andrew and i do not know if I'm ready to meet anyone (portuguese)

“mamãe”- mommy (portuguese)

and yeah that’s poppy :) i got all the translations from google, so they’re probably wrong lol))

#x. fics #selectionoc #x. challenges

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