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pearlywritings · 7 months

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Remarkable comparisons

synopsis: you just never seize to surprise him - your words make his heart flutter as you find the new ways to admire the parts of him.

prompt: 20

requested by: my dearest @lunargrapejuice

pairing: Diluc, Kaveh, Neuvillette x fem!reader

tw: fluff, established relationship, Diluc has thick eyebrows (because I love Rae's (@bobaboob) design of him), tiny mention of injury in Kaveh's

word count: 2.3k+ words in total

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

Diluc

“Congratulations, Kaeya,” you smile, saluting the Cavalry Captain with your drink. “Maybe this is a sign and you should really start dating someone.”

“One letter with a confession is all it took you to give me this piece of advice? Why, I am very honored to receive one,” the man teases, cheek supported by a hand and the fingers of the other drumming against the bar counter as he’s waiting for his own treat for tonight. “Not to mention, you getting together with Diluc in the past didn’t really solve the exactly same problem, am I correct?”

There is a grumbling sound coming from the bartender’s throat, and you snicker, knowing that the redhead is certainly rolling his eyes.

“Careful, Kaeya, or you might get your drink dumped into the sink.”

“Surely my brother wouldn’t do something like that to me,” your friend decides to pay your words no mind, turning to look at your husband instead, “right, ‘luc?”

“Oh, I actually might.”

“Ouch, you wound me.”

Diluc gives him a half-hearted glare, and you shake your head, too used to their quarrels over nothing. Tuning out their voices, you close your eyes and try to relax, enjoying your favorite beverage - always courtesy of your beloved - and humming the melody the bard is singing further into the room. The evening can be called unwinding, and if it continues to be so, it won’t be a hard task to wait Diluc’s shift to be over, to help him close the tavern and make your way home.

“Hey, hey, Y/n,” but of course Kaeya has to disturb your just established peace and quiet, and when you open your eyes again, there is already a full glass in his left hand. Looks like the tavern owner was convinced not to throw it away as he threatened to do.

“What is it, Alberich?”

“You decided to hurt me too,” he gasps painfully, clutching his chest and mimicking the face of a kicked puppy. “My favorite sister-in-law is bullying me with my last name.”

“I am your only sister-in-law. I get the privilege.”

It doesn’t escape you how Diluc snorts at your answer. Kaeya only grimaces.

“We’ll come back to it later. Now I am more curious, how did you handle all those love letters my brother received? I don’t believe you’ve ever told me.”

“I probably didn’t,” you agree, putting your empty glass down, only for it to end up in the redhead’s hands a minute later. “But that was fun.”

“...fun?”

“Yeah, fun. Ever since Diluc started courting me and I returned his affections, he’d come to me with every letter - sometimes with a whole pile of them - and we would sit down and read them together.”

The star-shaped pupil darts to the unfazed man and meets with the gaze of crimson eyes - it is as if he knew that his brother would question his reaction.

“I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea,” he states while pouring you another drink. “Just throwing or burning the letters without any prior explanation could leave some trace behind and cause misunderstanding, so I decided to tell her of the very first one I got when in a relationship with her. She found it so entertaining that ever since she demanded to read every single one of those.”

“You can call it my own research on the creativity of his suitors’ compliments,” you grin, thanking your lover for the new drink, leaning up to plant a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve counted around 120 comparisons of his eyes or hair to anything related to fire, a little bit more than 60 saying of his wisdom and owlishness, something like 46 cases of titling him a ‘prince’... But there were original ones too - ‘locks like waterfall of Fontaine’, ‘the dark master of my dreams’, ‘the perfect father for my children’”, Kaeya chokes, while you simply shrug your shoulders. “Yeah… I have a whole list somewhere actually. I can show you later, just remind me the next time you visit the winery.”

“You are the menace, my dear. Diluc, I can’t believe that after all those…fluttering words you were blushing over that compliment your now wife gave you about your eyebrows!”

“I mean,” Diluc clears his throat, furrowing the aforementioned brows, “They’ve just grown back after that accident with my vision…”

“And I jumped on him, kissing all over those beautiful thick bushy lines atop his mesmerizing eyes. I really missed them,” you sigh dreamily and the Cavalry Captain isn’t sure if you are serious or exasperated.

“It… it was the first time I'd heard them described that way. Or mentioned at all,” Almost unconsciously your husband reaches to move the fluffy fringe to the side. You can’t help but raise your hand and smooth the thumb over his eyebrow. Archons, your man is handsome.

“It was the first time I used such words too. I tried to be romantic. And creative. Creatively romantic.”

“I guess it worked…” Kaeya mumbles averting his eyes from the display unfurling before him. Maybe staying single wasn’t so bad.

Kaveh

“My love, you should be more careful with them, you know?” Softly caressing the bandaged knuckles with your thumb, you scoot even closer to your sulking husband. Your shoulder is immediately occupied with his golden-copper head, cheek flush to your bare skin and you can only assume that he is staring at the lock of your hands.

“Of course I know,” he sighs, turning his palm up and gently grabbing your fingers to draw the back of your hand to his lips. “My hands are basically the source of my income. But accidents happen at the construction site. It’s just that this time I am the one who ended up hurt. Thank the Dendro Archon no one else was affected.”

You want to scold him for being so dismissive of his own health, you want to scold him for not treating the injury well enough right away and jumping back into work again, you want to scold him for diminishing the role of his hands - his own role - to a simple instrument of making mora.

But you almost instantly push those thoughts away - after all, Kaveh knows all these things very well, and you are not about to ruin his mood even more.

“I hope they’ll heal soon,” you offer instead, turning your head and kissing the top of his. “Your hands are very important!”

“They are?” The blonde finally looks at you and there is an unmasked interest in them. “You mean, more than for drawing blueprints?”

“So much more! No other hand can hold mine. No other fingers can push a strand off of my face when the wind is too playful. No other palm is as perfect as yours to plant kisses upon. No wrists can compare to the work of art that yours are - also perfect for kisses.”

“I don’t know, birdie,” you are so beautiful in your pretense of playful hesitation, gleaming eyes averted and lips pursed. “What if this emotion doesn’t suit me so well?”

“But my muse,” the corners of his lips tug in a smile, akin to a shy morning sun, “all these things and so much more I can still do even with my hands bandaged.”

“I know, Kaveh, I know. But, there is something else, and, quite honestly, I might get shy if I say that outloud.”

“Oh?” Yes, that Kaveh-like lilt is back in his enchanting voice, and now he is sitting with a straighter back, half-turning to face you, but keeping your hands together on your knee. “Now I really want to know.”

“Come on, tell me~” And he is pushing his forehead against yours, gently butting, eyes full of determination staring in yours. “I wanna know what else my sweet loving wife thinks of my hands~ Or I might just attack you with kisses!”

“Wait, I joked-” and you erupt in giggles, when the architect surges forward to shower your smiling face with pecks big and small.

“...and what if I want it?”

“Then you shall receive.”

“Alright, alright! I surrender! I see your hands as the creators of our future home!”

The attacks abruptly stop. The pretty pink padparadscha eyes blink a few times, mind processing the words of your sacred confession. And while he is at it, you decide to elaborate.

“I adore the place we are currently renting. But I hope that one day we’ll build our own house - based off your blueprints, based off your vision of our home, cozy and full of light. So,” you reach your free hand to take his second one to lovingly hold them in your grasp, “for me your hands are also the creators of our future home, if you ever wish to share my idea.”

“I… Wow, Y/n, you caught me off guard,” the gaze full of wonder falls to his hands, currently wrapped in white bandages and looking imperfect in his own eyes. “It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way.”

“It's the first time I used such words too, my dear husband.”

You want to protest when his palms slide out of yours, but as they cup your cheeks and draw your lips to his - you eagerly close the distance, putting your hands on top of his.

Something tells you that Kaveh very much shares your idea.

Neuvillette

Your lover’s shrewdness has always been a well-known fact, an unprovable wrong at that. But even he at times could get stuck on a tangled case, especially in a moment of lacking some crucial details - though the public is never aware of it, because when the Iudex of Fontaine takes his rightful place in the courtroom there is no doubt that he knows more than enough to start the trial.

Only you and the melusines have ever witnessed him in a state of stalling as he is analyzing the information he has again and again until the missing piece is discovered. Today is exactly one of these days. No trials are scheduled for the day, so Neuvillette can dedicate his full attention to looking over the cases he will be taking care of tomorrow. Admittedly he never feels annoyed or discouraged when his thoughts reach a deadend, but having you in the same room always brings him comfort even though it was unnecessary in the first place.

You came earlier in the afternoon and brought him lunch, knowing that he’d barricade himself in the office till the late hours of the evening, and decided to stay, promising to handle any issue his subordinates could end up visiting his office with. The man has his full trust in you and your abilities to take care of the administrative part of his job - you’ve spent many decades by his side and involved in his field of work and possessed much empathy towards humans.

Same empathy you hold for him. It’s clear to you, as his beloved, his mate, that your partner needs a break. It’s been some hours since lunch and the desk in front of him has been getting crammed with more and more thick folios. If Neuvillette was a mek, there would be gears turning into his head intensively.

Oh!

Suddenly an idea pops into your head.

Putting away the reports Sedene delivered half an hour ago, you quietly rise from your spot on the plush sofa. The carpet muffles your steps as you move closer to the desk and round it, stopping right by the chair, putting your hand on its back. Your lover doesn’t even lift his head, too used to your presence, never questioning your actions. You admire the parts of him that are in your sight - his long, silky hair, thrown over the left armrest - a habit he developed, too tired to sit onto his own locks; then there is some of the skin of his neck is opened, transforming into the sharp jawline which you suddenly have desire to kiss; the broad shoulders that look even wider because of his coat and you put your free hand on his elbow, bending down.

And then there is his ear - pointy and delicate, it becomes the center of your plan.

Neuvillette’s whole frame shudders when you hum against the shell of it and then press the side of your head to his. It takes a moment to realize that it’s your ears that are touching and you lean into him even further, finally breaking his focus, eliciting a confused sigh out of him.

“Beloved? What’s wrong?”

“Mmm, absolutely nothing, darling,” you hum again, yet do not move anywhere from your spot. “It’s just your thoughts were running so fast in your head that I thought I was hearing the crashing of the waves.”

“...pardon me?” Now the confusion is in his voice too and you draw your face away to look at him with a glint of amusement in your visage.

“Well, you know, they say ‘a shell of an ear’. And if you press your ear to a seashell you’ll hear the sounds of a distant ocean. Come to think of it,” your finger touches the pointy edge and travels the length of it, sending another shiver - this time a pleasant one - down the man’s spine, “your ears look like the prettiest shells.”

When your digit stops its ministration it’s his own gloved hand that reaches up to touch the place you’ve just been tracing.

“It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way,” his voice is soft, inhuman eyes closing as a tender smile graces his lips.

“Well… It's the first time I used such words too, my love. I am glad the comparison is to your taste.”

“It is indeed,” the chair is pushed away and in a moment your lover is standing, fondly looking at you and offering his hand. “How do you feel about a walk at the shore?”

“Wow, if complimenting you will always result in taking a break from work I should start making more of those,” you can’t help but tease, eagerly taking his hand though. “I feel positively about it. Let’s go.”

#pearlywritings appreciation event #token of appreciation #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x fem!reader #genshin impact fluff

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

also i LOVE your poly!marauders apocalypse au (so creative btw!! i'm obsessed!!) and would be so down to read something in that universe where the reader gets hypothermia or something like that hehe !!!! <333333

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mild hypothermia

apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You keep tripping, which is mildly embarrassing. You think it’s a combination of fatigue and the general numbness that’s pervaded your body even though the layers you’d put on when you’d packed up the campsite that morning. You’d all agreed that, with the death eaters on your trail, it’s really only safe to stay in one area for a few days at a time, even with all the protections you place around your sites. But that means days where, instead of lounging around your tent, listening to the radio and plotting for the Order, you use all the daylight you have to hike through the wintry woods until you’re far enough away to set up another camp.

Sirius glances back when you stumble again, the toe of your boot catching on a branch you hadn’t seen buried in the snow. It’s a more dramatic affair than it should be, and you barely get your other foot out in front of you fast enough to avoid face-planting into the leaf litter.

Your shivering worsens as another gust of wind burns your face, making your thick jacket feel like mesh. You think this has to be the worst moving day your group has had yet. The cold is the same, but the sun hasn’t so much as peeked from behind the clouds all day and the wind makes it nearly unbearable. The snow is thick enough that you’ve started stepping in the boys’ footprints to save energy. One of the many perks of taking up the rear.

You nearly hit Sirius when he stops in front of you.

“This clearing looks about as good as any,” James is saying, but Remus looks hesitant.

“I don’t know,” he frets. “Do you think it’s far enough? We’ve been slow today.”

“You’re tired,” James says kindly. You look at Remus, noting his slouched posture, the weariness he’s never quite learned to hide from his expression. You’re not sure how you didn’t notice his exhaustion before. You’re usually more aware of those things. “And it’s horrid out here. Let’s just call it a night, and if you’re still anxious about it tomorrow we’ll go a bit further.”

“I can make it further tonight.”

“It’s not all about you, Moony,” Sirius drawls. He looks especially monochrome against all the fresh white snow, you think. His superblack hair is as eye-catching as neon. “I’ve got a rock in my shoe I’d love to get out, and I know y/n’s knees have to be black and blue from the way she’s been falling for the past hour.”

His scheme works; Remus looks to you, arguments of his own fortitude forgotten. “Are you tired, dove? You want to stop?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess. It’s cold.”

Suddenly all three boys seem focussed intently on you. You’re not sure why. You don’t actually recall much of what you’d been talking about.

“Could you say that again?” James asks you. His brows are stitched together and his eyes have gone all sharp behind his glasses.

“I just said it’s cold.”

“Why’re you talking like that, doll?” Sirius takes a step toward you, then looks to Remus. “Why is she slurring?”

“I don’t know,” Remus says softly. He’s looking at you weird, too. Frowny. “Yeah, let’s set up. Maybe she just needs a rest.”

James spells the tent up quickly, then makes Remus stay and sit with you while he and Sirius set up the protections and everything else. The temperature inside the magical tent is cozy. Remus lights a fire in the grate to warm you all up.

“Do you feel okay, lovely?” he asks, helping you out of your jacket. You sit on the bed, working off your shoes.

“Yeah, just…just really tired.”

He furrows his eyebrows, placing a palm on your cheek. You have no clue how it’s so warm, but a sigh escapes you as you lean into the touch.

“When did you start tripping?” he asks you.

You…you’re not sure. You can’t remember the first time it happened. How long had you been walking?

Your bemusement must show on your face, because Remus’ mouth pinches. His hand slides down to cup your face, fingers pressing oddly into your jaw. Frankly, you could care less where he puts them so long as he keeps touching you.

“Feeling better?” James asks, materializing behind Remus. You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but you hum contentedly anyway.

“I think she might be hypothermic,” Remus doesn’t look away from you as he talks, his eyebrows lowered like he’s waiting for you to answer a question you don’t remember him asking. His fingers press harder into your neck. “Her pulse is…scary weak.”

James looks at you, and you look at Remus.

“You really think so?” you ask him, befuddled. “I don’t feel…I’m only tired.”

“Hypothermia makes you tired,” he tells you gently. “And you’re slurring your words, love.”

You feel an icy tendril of fear snake around your spine. “I am?”

“You’re alright.” James catches onto your panic quickly, leaning over Remus to give your shoulders a bolstering squeeze. “Let’s just get some of these layers off you, and then we’ll swaddle you in blankets.” He starts easing off your jumper, leaving you in just your undershirt. You’re newly cognizant of the sluggishness of your movements as you raise your arms to help him. “Once you sit by the fire for a bit, you’ll be feeling back to normal in no time.”

You nod numbly, lifting your bum to tug off the jeans you’d worn over leggings. James takes the blanket from the bed and wraps it around you while Remus goes to find more in the other room.

“Poor love,” James coos, dropping a kiss to your head. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“No duh,” Sirius says, the tent flap letting in a blast of cool air behind him. “It’s fucking freezing out.”

James offers him a sorry smile. “We think she’s got hypothermia.”

Sirius sobers, stormcloud eyes flickering to you. “Shit, really? How bad is that?”

“Not too bad, I don’t think,” Remus says, nudging past him with a stack of blankets in his arms. “I mean, it’d be great if I’d thought to bring any books on that sort of thing, but I’m fairly sure if it were bad she’d be more confused and a bit…blueish.” He drapes a blanket over your shoulders, letting James pull it tighter and tuck it about as he wishes. “Do you feel any better?”

“I think so,” you say quietly. It’s a bit unnerving to be at the center of so much alarm like this. You do feel better being out of the cold, but you’re not sure if that’s what he’s asking. “It’s a little hard to tell.”

“You don’t seem like you’re slurring as badly,” James evaluates. He cups the back of your neck, planting a kiss on the frozen tip of your nose. “I think you’re getting better already, lovie.”

Your face certainly feels warmer.

Sirius grins at your flustering, though it’s dampened by worry. “What about a hot chocolate?” he asks, tone unusually gentle. “Does that sound like it might help?”

“I’m fine,” you say, and he disregards you immediately, posing the same question to Remus.

“Would that help?”

Remus shrugs. “It could. Doubt it would hurt. James, love, I think she’s got enough blankets.”

James frowns, peering through the layers of covering to find your face. “Do you feel warm enough, angel?”

You blink, owlish. “I think so?”

He shakes his head. “Sounds far from certain. More blankets it is. Sirius, get started on the hot chocolate.”

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dreamwritesimagines · 8 months

Text

Garden of Secrets [38] - Gladiolus

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Strength builds in time.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of threat.

Word Count: 3100

Series Masterlist

Alright then.

Perhaps you owed Benedict an apology.

Ever since you had walked in on him and Madame Delacroix right after their escapade at her shop, you hadn’t stopped reminding him of his very frequent adventures with different ladies in the ton but in your defense, you had no idea the act was this…

Pleasurable.

Divine, even.

Yet, it raised one simple issue; the marriage bliss kept you too busy to pay attention to anything else. Honestly it didn’t feel like an issue at all to you -or to Benedict you were guessing- but you had lost the complete track of time in the last couple of days and you had to force yourself to think straight.

You put your shift on and walked to grab your dressing gown, your body aching in the most pleasant way and you bit down a smile as the memory of last night flashed through your mind, but then heard Benedict taking a deep breath, rising from his deep slumber.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep and you looked over your shoulder, the sight making your heart skip a beat. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his hair all messy while he ran a hand over his glimmering blue eyes, the sunlight falling on his chiseled chest. You could feel the familiar desire sending sparks through your system but forced yourself to focus, shaking your head slightly.

“Good morning,” you said, dragging your gaze away from him to look around the room for the items of clothing of yours that Benedict had thrown around the room in his haste to get you out of them. “Did I wake you up?”

“No—what are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

His head shot up. “What?”

“For the day!” you added quickly and grabbed your corset off the floor. “I’m leaving for the day.”

“Why?”

“Benedict,” you said and motioned between you. “Perhaps it has escaped your notice but we have a problem.”

He tilted his head, confusion etched in his features. “A problem?” he repeated. “What problem?”

You tried to concentrate but it was rather hard when that fire was swirling in your lower stomach, the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to climb back in the bed and—

You cleared your throat, looking up at the ceiling, causing Benedict to look up as well.

“What’s happening?”

“If I look at you I’m going to get back in the bed so I refuse to.”

“How is that a bad thing?” he asked with a grin and you shot him a glance, then looked up at the ceiling again.

“You know, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we have a lovely ceiling.”

“My love, what are you talking about?”

You felt a smile warm your face, then grabbed your dress off the floor as well before turning to him, heaving a sigh.

“First of all, you were right about it being…divine,” you said, then narrowed your eyes. “Wipe that smile off your face.”

He held up his hands, gesturing surrender and you put your clothes on the sofa.

“That being said, do you not think we’re being a bit…fixated?”

“Fixated?”

“When was the last time you painted?”

“A week ago.”

“When was the last time you and I actually communicated with another person more than an hour without rushing to the nearest room?”

“There was the gala—”

“Gordon’s guest room.”

He hissed in a breath. “Right. Good point.”

“And I have a greenhouse,” you told him, putting your hands on your hips. “Ask me when the last time I’ve been there was.”

“…A week ago?”

“A week ago!”

“I mean Mr. Binsted is taking care of—”

Even you could hear the petulant tone in your voice; “It doesn’t matter, it’s my greenhouse!”

“Darling it’s not like it’s going anywhere—”

“Listen,” you cut him off. “I have a greenhouse with very rare plants. And flowers.”

“Mm hm.”

“Not to mention, I have the rarest flower in the world, in the aforementioned greenhouse.”

“I heard a thing or two about that, yeah.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re the love of my life,” you said, making a smile curl his lips, that softness apparent in his gaze again while you pointed at the window, stomping on your foot. “But my greenhouse!”

“Right.”

“It has my favorite flower in there!”

“Hasn’t escaped my notice my love,” he said with a grin, almost humoring you and you nodded your head.

“So that’s what we’re doing today—no, don’t get out of the bed until I’m away,” you stopped him as he swung his legs over the bed and you looked up at the ceiling. “Wait until I leave.”

“Why?”

“Because neither of us can be trusted,” you stated. “So we’re not to cross paths today.”

“The whole day?!” Benedict asked in shock and you flailed your arms.

“To repeat, we cannot be trusted apparently!” you said. “You—you take the studio side of the house and I’ll be in the greenhouse and we are going to be…calm.”

“Calm?”

“Yes, calm,” you said and heaved a deep sigh and turned your gaze to him again. “It’s alright. We can do this, I have faith in us.”

“I don’t.”

“Ben!”

“Shall I lie to you?” he asked with a small laugh and you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes again.

“I’m leaving,” you said. “See you tonight at the ball, not one second before.”

“Darling to repeat, we live in the same house—”

“We’ll meet there!” you said. “I mean it.”

“We’re going in different carriages?”

“Do you not remember what happened the last time we were in the same carriage?”

He gave you that lopsided grin you loved so much, making your stomach do a happy flip.

“Oh trust me, I do remember,” he said and you felt your cheeks burn, then you shook your head slightly and grabbed your clothes off the sofa.

“I’ll see you at the ball,” you said and walked through the door connecting his room to yours, painfully aware of the smile on your face.

It was as if you were in a happy dream and if that was the case, you never wanted to wake up. You were sure that it had been hours since you stepped foot into the greenhouse based on the sun, but you could swear it had only been minutes. It wasn’t until you heard a knock on the door that you snapped out of your haze and looked over your shoulder, your hands still in the pot.

“Josie?”

“Wow,” she said, looking around. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

“No no,” you said, shaking your head and pulled your hands out of the pot to take off your gloves. “Welcome.”

“I mean you mentioned it the other day and I figured…” she said, motioning around. “This is impressive.”

“Look!” you turned around to grab the pot you had been working on and held it up, a bright smile on your face. “It’s a Queen of the Night Tulip!”

“Pretty.”

“And the one to your right is a Ghost Orchid, and—that’s Middlemist Red! My favorite!”

She forced a smile.

“You’re never leaving this place, are you?”

“Never,” you said with a laugh and walked to the next pot, which was a gladiolus flower. Josie took a deep breath.

“So,” she said. “She came to see me.”

“Hm?” you asked, looking at her again. “Who?”

She blinked a couple of times.

“Mother,” she said. “Mother came to see me. Are you alright?”

You could feel your heart dropping to your stomach, your happy mood getting dim like a sudden shadow on a sunny day but you pressed your lips together.

“Yeah,” you said. “Sorry I was just distracted. But none of us told them you were here, how did she…?”

“Must have heard from someone in the ton.”

“What did she say?”

“She uh… remember how she found those letters between me and Bess?”

“And threw them in the fire before father—” a bitter taste appeared in your mouth as you tried to shake off the memory. “Yes?”

“Well as it turns out she didn’t throw all of them in the fire,” she said. “There is one left, and she is threatening to show it to not only uncle but also the whole ton unless I give them money.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning back to the shelf.

“God damn it,” you muttered. “So not only are they using Teddy as a leverage for more money from uncle, they’re also—”

“Using Bess and Andrew,” she finished your sentence for you. “Yes. I don’t care what happens to me if the ton hears, but I can’t see them get hurt Y/N.”

You nodded your head.

“Of course not,” you said, running a hand over your eyes. “No that’s—that’s not going to happen. Did you tell them?”

“They were outside when mother decided to pay the visit,” she said. “I’ll tell them when I get home. I just wanted you to know before anyone else, just in case.”

You heaved a sigh, then walked to pull her into a hug.

“Josie…”

“I’m fine,” she said almost mechanically even though she wrapped her arms around you to hold you tight. “You know me, I can handle mother and father.”

You bit inside your cheek and pulled back to look at her better, holding her hand to squeeze it in an assuring manner.

“I know,” you said, remembering how relieved you felt when Benedict told you the same thing. “But you don’t have to handle them alone.”

She tried to smile and took a shaky breath, then looked around.

“Well alright then,” she said. “Go ahead, tell me all about these flowers.”

By the time Josie left it was near evening, and though you had told Benedict you would be taking separate carriages, you were so desperate to talk to him that you had ended up changing your mind. He looked quite surprised to see you waiting for him by the carriage but he knew something was troubling you with one look at your face.

So you had spent the entire road to the ball telling him about what happened.

“Letters?” he asked as he helped you out of the carriage when it stopped in front of the Elwick house. You took his hand and stepped out, then placed your hand on his arm while you walked towards the house.

“Letters,” you said. “Josie eloped very soon after that because—well, you can imagine how mother and father reacted.”

Benedict clenched his jaw. “Unbelievable,” he said. “You know, I was thinking I should talk to your father again and this just proves I must.”

“The last time you talked, you punched him.”

“I don’t have any regrets over that.”

“Neither do I, I’m glad you did,” you said. “That being said, I’m not putting your wellbeing over him getting what he deserves, so no.”

You both entered the house and passed through the foyer, the music getting louder and louder as you approached the ballroom.

“Y/N—”

“No way,” you insisted. “I get that you’re angry at them, and trust me I’m angry as well. Me and Josie, but I told you before. My father is not worth your attention, let alone your fury.”

He reached to hold your hand, running his thumb over your skin as if trying to assure you and you offered him a small smile.

“I’m alright.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?”

You heaved a sigh and shrugged your shoulders, catching the sight of Andrew out of the corner of your eye, Benedict following your gaze.

“Did she tell him?”

“She said she would—I just didn’t think mother would actually go to Josie’s house,” you said. “My parents didn’t even know she was back in the country, so to come up with that plan as soon as they found out she’s here… I knew they were evil, I just didn’t think they’d be that fast.”

Benedict’s head snapped up.

“Wait,” he said. “They didn’t know she was here?”

“No,” you said. “The last they heard, Josie was going to Spain with Andrew and Bess so I figure they still thought she was there. Even I didn’t know she was coming back until she arrived here, there is no way they had an inkling.”

Benedict’s brows furrowed as if he was in deep thought, then he raised your hand to press a kiss on it.

“Just give me one moment my love, I will be back,” he said and strode to Andrew, muttering something to him before Andrew nodded and they both walked away. You frowned in confusion but then someone touched your arm, making you turn to them.

“Lottie!”

“Oh thank God you’re here, you’re going to save me,” Lottie said, linking her arm with yours and pulling you to the foyer, making you let out a small laugh.

“What? What is happening?”

“Tony hasn’t arrived yet and everyone is asking me a lot of questions about the wedding that I don’t even know the answers to,” she said as you followed her through the foyer. “And my mama has been taken hostage by other mamas who want to be invited to the engagement ball that I haven’t even planned yet it seems, so you’re to be my savior. We’re going to the backyard.”

You repressed a laugh. “There might be people there as well, you know.”

“Fewer people who will not be as enthusiastic to ask me questions, I’m hoping.”

You hummed as you both stepped out of the house to the backyard. “If someone does approach, do you want me to threaten them?”

“Goodness no!” she said. “That would be very rude!”

“What if they are approaching you to ask you questions about the engagement ball you haven’t planned yet?”

She thought for a moment, her lips pulling into a pout as if she was torn between decisions.

“Don’t threaten them verbally, just glare at them please?”

“Understood.”

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m the happiest lady in the entire world but—” she huffed as you two sat down on a bench. “Everyone has something to ask and nobody leaves us alone anymore Y/N! With Tony, it’s as if everyone swore to…”

“Interrupt you?” you said with a grin and she looked abashed for a moment.

“…Yes.”

“So I’m guessing no other scandalous behavior has taken place?”

“Y/N!”

“Just a question,” you teased her and she heaved a tormented sigh.

“If only,” she sulked. “Everyone seems to watch us closer now that we’re engaged.”

“Tell Anthony patience is a virtue,” you said, trying to stop the smirk on your face and she nodded.

“I have.”

You let out a small laugh. “Lottie, you’re too sweet.”

“Thank you—how about you and Benny?” she asked and you blinked a couple of times, clearing your throat.

“Hm?”

“I mean no one has seen you on a social outing of the ton for almost a week,” she said. “Everyone has a lot of ideas about the reason.”

“Such as?”

“You’d tell me if you were with child, would you not?”

Your eyes widened, your breath getting caught in your throat.

“What?!” you asked. “No—I mean yes I would tell you but no Lottie, that’s not what is happening!”

“Good,” she said. “Because you see, I have many things I wish to shop for before your baby gets here—”

“That baby is nonexistent as we speak, Lottie.”

“And I’d like a pre-warning,” she said like she wasn’t listening and you scoffed.

“So that’s what the ton thinks?”

“Some of them,” she said. “Why haven’t you been attending outings then?”

You shifted your weight, trying to come up with an excuse but thankfully you saw Benedict approaching out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh look, Benedict is here!” you said, motioning at him and he gave you a smile.

“Charlie.”

“Benny, hello!”

“Anthony just arrived, he was looking for you,” Benedict said, pointing back at the house with his thumb and Lottie let out a breath.

“Oh thank God,” she said, standing up. “Benny, have you seen anyone asking him questions about our engagement ball?”

Benedict made a face. “Please stop reminding me you’re engaged to my brother, I’m still not completely alright with that idea.”

You raised your brows and Lottie rolled her eyes.

“You do realize that you will be the best man, do you not?” she asked as if teasing him, making him let out a whine.

“Charlie!”

“I’ll see you inside Y/N.”

“See you inside,” you said with a laugh and watched her walk away. Benedict heaved a sigh and sat beside you.

“So they’re actually going to get married then?”

“Seems like it,” you said, patting him on the arm as if trying to assure him. “Will you be alright?”

“Ask me again later,” Benedict said and stole a look at you. “How about you?”

“I’m alright with them getting married, I don’t know why you’re making it such a big issue—”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said and you paused for a moment, then nodded.

“Sure.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m fine, I just…” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s rather surprising but it shouldn’t be. It’s just that, I’ve been so happy lately that I almost forgot they were here to cause trouble, does that make sense?”

“It absolutely does,” he said with that soft light in his eyes. “But it is going to be alright, I promise you.”

“What did you and Andrew talk about?” you asked, gazing up at him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Nothing important, I just asked about your parents.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Benedict.”

“Yes my love?”

“That will not distract me,” you pointed at him while trying very hard to not let it distract you, making him chuckle.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured you. “I’m not putting myself or anyone you care about in danger, I swear to you.”

You pursed your lips, then heaved a sigh and turned a little to face the backyard, putting your head on his shoulder. He entwined his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss on top of your head before burying his nose into your hair.

“Let’s stay here for a while?” you asked. “I like being alone with you even when we’re not…you know.”

A small laugh vibrated his chest. “Same here darling.”

You heaved a sigh, then frowned when the thought hit you. “But we’re still going to—”

“Way ahead of you, they have a library on the other side of the house.”

“Good,” you said, a small smirk curling your lips as you stole a look at him. “I happen to be an admirer of books.”

Chapter 39

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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babyhedonistt · 4 months

Text

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH - TEN

WARNING // Some themes in this chapter may not be suitable for all audiences, viewer discretion is advised

Nick stares at Noah like he was a dog with his tail between his legs. He had been caught, but Noah was not quite sure he feels guilty about what he did.

Because he didn’t.

“How long have you known?” Noah asked him.

“Known what?” He sighs, throwing his hands up.

“How long you have had your eyes on her or how long you two have been sneaking around?”

“Either at this point Nick. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“No. I am acting like myself. It’s just the first time you’ve actually pulled your head out of your ass to actually see it. Ever since you started hanging out with her again, you haven’t bothered to pay attention to the rest of us. Your band. Your brothers.”

“That doesn’t give you a right to separate us. You’re not her older brother and you’re not my Dad. I thought if I were to get involved with anyone, you’d be happy it was her.” Noah scoffed.

“It’s not that I’m unhappy Noah. I just don’t like how even though she’s higher on your priority list, you still don’t treat her like it.”

Ouch.

That hurt more because Noah knew he was right.

“I’ve never been in a serious relationship before.” Noah admits. “So you think it gives you free range to pick Folios sister of all people to fuck around with.”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

“Doesn’t mean you weren’t planning on it.” Nick shot back. Noah swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“I’m sorry. About the NDA. Truly, but I figured it would be the easiest option to suggest to Matt to get through our tour. And then Folio got hurt…… she took the position. Shit just got messy… Noah I really wanted you two to be together, but I didn’t want it to fuck the band up to a point the fans would start noticing. How would that look?”

Nick wasn’t wrong. In fact, Nick is never wrong, factually, at least. Morally on the other hand, he had to have been the worst offender next to Noah.

The room filled with silence, the two of them soaking in each others words before Noah finally broke the silence. “I haven’t been putting this band first. I thought I was doing that when I finished the rest of the album, I guess it wasn’t enough.” He sighs

“Noah, you’re the lead singer dude. You already carry so much responsibility and I don’t think we cut you enough slack. But, a girl can’t just come in and fuck that shit up when we have stuff we need to get done.”

“She’s different Nick. I feel like there’s a fire inside of me when I’m around her.”

“And if you don’t contain it you’re going to get burnt. You haven’t even told Folio how you feel about her. He’s one of your best friends and he’s in the dark. “

“I know..” Noah sighs.

Nick walks over and slaps Noah on the back comfortingly. “Jolly’s known for a bit too dude. Expecting him to keep that secret? A lot on him too.”

Noah’s realization of his stupid actions finally caught up with him as be planted his face in his hands. “ I’m sorry, Nick.”

Nick pulled Noah up from the seat and embraced his friend in a tight hug. “I’m sorry I fairly kicked your ass.” He jokes and a light laugh escaped Noah’s lips. “I let you win mother fucker.” He slaps his back lightly.

“Cmon dude. We have a show to do. It’s our last one.” Nick smiles before the door to the dressing room opens and Jolly peaks his head in. “You guys coming?”

The two nodded as the three of them met you backstage. You felt Noah’s large hands grasp each side of your hips, his front against your back, and warmth spread across your cheeks before you rest the back of your head on his chest. “Everything good?” You asked, looking down at his tattooed hands. You hear him sigh in your ear before clearing his throat. “Yeah. It will be.” He says before the lights dimmed in the pit of the audience.

The crowd went insane. You were used to being in front of the large fan base that Bad Omens had. Something about Noah's hands being secured on your hips, almost reassured that he was right about everything being okay.

Granted, given everything that has happened already, you weren't sure it was capable of getting worse.

The beginning of the show went as expected. You performed the usual set list. The crowd seemed to be higher in energy today, perhaps due to the fact that it was the last show of the tour.

The crowd eventually settled through the show; the energy seemed more positive compared to how you left the boys. Nick and Noah actually made eye contact and it didn't look like they wanted to kill each other.

You thought everything was going well, until Noah began talking to the crowd between songs.

You could see him at the front of the stage, holding the microphone in front of his mouth while his sweat-dosed hair hung over his eyes. The makeup covered his bruises well, if anything it added to his on stage persona. The more you watch Noah perform, the more you could see the differences between the real Noah and the person he makes himself into for the sake of his fans.

"So. How many of you know a song called ' Just Pretend '? "

The crowd went expectedly loud with an uproar. Noah held the microphone with both of his hands as he quickly looked back at you at the top of the stage behind the drum set. You sent a half smile down to him, and it seemed as if you gave him the confidence he needed.

He turned his attention back to the crowd before he continued. "For the second half of this tour, our drummer Folio had an unfortunate accident which handicapped him temporarily from performing on stage with us."

The crowd was awed as Jolly and Nick bobbed their head. "But. In Folio's absence, our band was saved by a talented drummer who is fortunately here to fill in for her brother while he heals."

You felt your heart in your throat and the air felt almost too thick to breathe through your nose. What the hell was he doing? The feeling seemed to be mutual between the four of you because Jolly and Nick turned their heads up to you, their eyes looking at you for some form of answer as to why Noah was doing what he was doing. Unfortunately you weren't much help for them.

"Her name is Y/N. She's one of the closest people in my life, and one of the biggest inspirations for many of the songs this band sings. Including this one, Just Pretend."

Authors Note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 Lots of love, as always.

@Flowery-mess

@Lizzyanthony3

@Darkmxgician

@Blackveilomens

@Jilliemiw86

@Skulliecadaver-blog

@Starvingarsyn

@Laurpartyprogram

@badomensls

@Lma1986

@sammyjoeee

#bad omens #jolly karlsson #nick folio #nick ruffilo #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #badomenscult #concert #too close to touch

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buggyboba · 6 days

Text

This Will Be The Day

── •✧• ──

A/N: Hello yes, lesbian sword fight…that is all. The prompt is from this list; x. I listened to the RWBY soundtrack, and this is the result…it wasn’t going to be a sword fight in the beginning, but listen….The Master is a swordsman, ergo Missy is a swordsman, and Reader is well….reader, enjoy!~ This has been another episode of Buggy pulling from other media, but this time I haven’t actually listened to the masterful audio drama but shut up sword fight in a castle.

Also, someone please send help, I said it was going to be a drabble, it’s a whole ass short story….insert the babadook meme here ‘Why can’t you be normal’ ‘screaming’

Pairing | Missy x Fem!reader.

TW| I don’t think there is any real ones, please let me know if I missed any, there are petnames. SPOILERS FOR THE MASTERFUL AUDIO DRAMA.

Wordcount| 4000

A03 Link | x

── •✧• ──

Things were quiet, which wasn’t terrible, but you knew a silent Missy was a dangerous one, as with her previous incarnation. So you slipped out of your room, checking the usual places that Missy would be. When you didn’t find her, you sighed and started towards the console room. As you entered the console room, so did she; only she was coming in the front through the tardis doors. The distinct smell of smoke from a fire hits your nose. Her usually pressed and perfect plum skirt was singed along the bottom and higher up; she had a bit of soot on her cheek.

You moved to go take her umbrella, gloves, and hat, putting them where they went. The umbrella in the umbrella rack, the hat on the hat rack, and the gloves on the little shelf nearby. After a moment, she walked over to put her jacket on the rack too. The smell of smoke was heavy; what did she do—skip through a bonfire or something?

“Nice stroll?” You grinned a bit. “Burn down any towns?” you teased, to which Missy raised an eyebrow, but then let a small little smirk escape.

“Only a little one; well, there are going to be a few; I may have accidentally started a teensy little wildfire.” She gave a slight chuckle.

“Missy! Accidently?” You sounded exasperated. “Why would you start a wildfire in Siberia?” you asked.

“Don’t worry, your pretty little head; while I was there, I thought, I haven’t taken you on a proper date lately,” she mused.

It was true, unfortunately. The last date you had got crashed by the Doctor and his companion, and the one before that, she took you to some really unsavory planet, where a plant almost ate you. Before that, it was 1940’s Paris. The one before that you were having dinner at a nice restaurant on Darillium, and Missy had taken you to see the singing towers, The Doctor and a woman had shown up but left you and Missy alone, and she made it a point to leave them alone. It was Christmas after all; that one wasn’t so bad, but still, needless to say, the last few dates had not been good; you both needed a good proper date. You looked at her and nodded. “Oh? Can I pick something this time?” you asked lightly. Missy seemed to think about it for a long time before she nodded.

“Oh! Okay!” you said excitedly, racking your brain. “I want a picnic,” you decided. Missy looked almost offended. Out of everything you could pick, you decided on a mundane picnic? All of time and space, and you wanted to sit on a blanket and eat sandwiches? You were not allowed to pick the date again, but she would give you that.

“What’s wrong with your face?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“A picnic, who do you think I am? The Doctor? A picnic,” she muttered.

“Yes, it would be nice to just sit down and relax, talk, and eat.” You spoke, trying to make your case for a picnic.

“We do that when we eat dinner together.” Missy pointed out as she stalked towards the console past you, leaving you following her. “Why would you want to eat outside, fighting off bugs and the elements for your food….I could always release bugs into the dining room.” She teased, and you made a face.

“You wouldn’t; you don’t like bugs, and you wouldn’t want them to escape into the tardis.” You said.

“Yes, that’s true, but what is your interest in picnics?” She mused, her icy eyes sliding over you.

“It’s romantic,” you said, nodding and leaning against the console next to her, watching Missy as Missy turned her attention back to the console.

“I could think of other romantic things to do that don’t involve picnics.” She mused. “More private things,” she trailed off.

“Mis! Fine, we have a picnic, but you pick the location; is that a fair compromise?” You asked softly, trying to find a middle ground. She was quiet for a few moments before she nodded.

“Deal,” she purred out. “Now go make the lunch... at least pack something good,” she said, her hand grazing your hip as she pushed you off the console.

“No, just because you said that, it’s going to be all jelly babies and crisps.” You laughed and moved away. You walked down the long hall, slipping into the kitchen. You immediately began taking out things to make simple sandwiches; you found some French bread, cheddar, and ham, and you found cream cheese and fruits. Which gave you an idea: you would make some sweet sandwiches and some savory ones.

You would bring some strawberries along, wondering if you could find chocolate to go with them. You really wanted to make this romantic; you knew Missy had a secret soft spot for romantics. Even if she would never admit it, let alone never show it publicly, there had been things she had done for you that made you believe she liked them. Well, it was that or she was using manipulation, but you chose to decide it wasn’t that.

She didn’t show love normally; it was more like a mix between a cat leaving presents and someone who was actually good at seduction. It was a mixed bag, but she kept things interesting. She was also very possessive when she brought you out for adventures; there were so many rules, and god forbid someone looked at you in a way she didn’t like. You had watched her disintegrate no less than six people this way, and she never mentioned it after it happened either.

You made quick work of making the food for the picnic, wrapping everything carefully, searching the kitchen for anything to carry it in, and for once, Missy’s tardis seemed to be on your side because you found the perfect picnic basket. You packed everything you needed. You even snuck in some wine and some jelly babies and crisps, so those would be the first things she pulled out when you sat down. You were pleased by your little joke.

You felt the rumble of the tardis moving; apparently, she had picked out a place. You heard her heels click by the kitchen, heading towards her room, no doubt to change. You should probably do that too; you wanted to look good for the date. You put the basket in the fridge just for now before quickly heading to your room to change into something comfortable since you were going to be outside, but something nice that Missy would be fine with being seen out in public with you. A nice little black summer dress and flats that you could walk in since you knew you would be carrying the picnic basket.

You finished up getting ready. You moved to go fetch the basket, bringing one of your blankets with you and moved to wait in the console room.

You heard the footfall, but no heels. You turned and blinked a few times, opening your mouth as you saw her. She wore a white ruffled top; the shoulders were still puffed but the sleeves were tight against her arms; she wore a pair of black pants; they were tight against her legs; she wore a black corset-like belt; she wore boots, but they weren't heeled. Her hair was pulled up, and a clip held it in a fanned-out ponytail. You had never seen her in anything else but her skirts; you didn't know she owned pants. She knew you were staring, and when you finally looked up to meet her eyes, she was smirking, making a motion with her mouth and hand to tell you to close your mouth as she walked past you to the console.

You closed your mouth and licked your lips subconsciously before you followed her a bit. “Should I put pants on?” That was the stupidest thing that could have slipped out of your mouth, but it was the only thing that wasn’t pining over her or questioning, How come you had never seen her in pants? And why was she so incredibly hot?

Missy snorted at your question, shaking her head. “Now now, my pet, I think your attire is fine. If I wanted you to change, I would tell you to do so, would I not?” She grinned a cat-like grin as she watched you open your mouth a few times to say something, but you shrugged and nodded instead.

“But, um, you usually...” You spoke and pointed a bit at her outfit.

“Something wrong, dove?” She asked, to which you shook your head, and you finally noticed the long black case she had brought with her.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“You know not to ask questions you don’t really want to know the answers to.” She smiled and poked your nose with her red-painted nail. You recoiled a bit and sighed. "Plus, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise,” she said with a self-satisfied grin. “You wanted a proper date; well, this will be better.” She gave a small nod, like she had picked the perfect location and had the perfect idea to elevate this silly little picnic you wanted her to go on with you.

You frowned a bit but nodded. You would just have to wait and hope whatever it was wasn’t bad, or part of some other plot to destroy the doctor, or take over Earth, or Mars, or whatever Missy decided she wanted to do. It was fascinating watching her plan and scheme because you never knew what you were getting; sometimes she could be playful, and then other times it was very much watching a whole different person working, the intricate planning, and just how brilliant she was. You hoped whatever this was was playful and fun; you really needed a good date.

You shifted the picnic basket and blanket before starting over towards the door. Missy followed after a sort of sway to her steps as if she were mentally rehearsing something; you didn’t question it. You opened the door and slipped out, pausing when you stepped out. It was not the picturesque setting you had hoped for; it was desolate and the sky was clear, but you could see so many stars and a rather large moon, maybe. You felt the air shift behind you. Missy stood behind you, leaning her chin on your shoulder as she looked up.

“Rather pretty, isn’t it?” She breathed into your ear, and you could feel her lips press against your neck before she walked past you. “Kiamet, or what is left of it, but the sky isn’t why we are here.” She moved to motion behind her tardis, which had disguised itself as a lone burned tree. You looked and paused when you saw a large, imposing black castle.

“Spooky,” you breathed out.

“Is it? Oh, come on, maybe there are ghosts, monsters, or Tim Curry in fishnets.” She chuckled and grabbed your hand, pulling you up the hill towards it. You kept up pretty well with her long strides.

“So why are we here for a spooky castle?” You asked her. Her grip on your wrist slid down, so she was holding your hand, but neither one of you acknowledged it.

“Adventure... and the courtyard is nice; we should have a few hours of peace.” She nodded once again. Her movements were swaying as she continued to practice something in her mind.

“A few hours of peace?” You asked lightly.

“Oh yeah, collapsing universe, a double paradox now that I am here, bit sticky, but if I’ve timed it right, we won’t run into them.” She grinned a bit.

“Them?” You breathed out, suddenly not so sure about any of this.

"Oh, the other me’s, long story, silly little play for lives, I am ever so naughty and really can't be trusted even by my selves...don't worry about it, pet.” She nodded, pushing the door open to allow you entry. The castle was decorated in all black. “Don’t mind the decorations; he is so dramatic.” Missy shook her head. “I would have added pops of color—some purples, more red.” She hummed as she led you past rooms; it was like she could feel your questions rising, and she looked over you, her eyes dancing across your features. "Oh, don’t worry about it too much, my dear; I am fairly sure we will have enough time…”

“Okay, one, who is he? Who’s castle is this?” You spoke quietly as you took in the decor; it was very heavy, black, with deep reds and flashes of gold. It felt cold; whoever owned it must be a real –

"Oh, technically mine,” she said. “Well, long story, past regenerations, an arse of a man,” she smirked. “Maybe you remember the short-lived Harold Saxon?”

“The ex-Prime Minster...” You asked, "Wait, you were the Prime Minister?" You shook your head in disbelief.

"Yes, I was incredibly charming, wasn’t I? I said all the right things. Well, I said some right things. Well, I mostly used high-grade, low-frequency mind control to suggest everyone vote for me, but I digress. Yes, you see, I had some adventures, and I was a bit of a naughty boy.” Missy grinned a bit in thought, looking around. “Killed the doctor, then called all my past regenerations here and didn’t invite me, which was so rude, and you know how I feel about manners.” Missy teased.

You were quiet for a few minutes, trying to think of what to say. You decided to skip over the fact that she said she killed the doctor and called previous regenerations, as fun as the thought could be, the implications that she had managed to kill the doctor as Saxon, and then called her past selves to celebrate. Well, not really celebrate; you remember her saying something earlier about stealing lives? and not being able to trust her past selves, paradoxes hurt your head, and you didn't know how Time Lords could handle remembering events during paradoxes.

“Well, I didn’t vote for you.” You smirked a bit watching her reaction; there seemed to be a few moments where she was deciding what to say to you. "Not my prime minister,” you teased in a playful manner.

“Now wait a minute.” She started. “I was pretty decent….did you not find me charming? You find me charming now.” She said, grabbing your arm a bit, slowing the pace of your walk.

“Well, now you are a gorgeous woman, not a baby-faced man.” You nodded.

“Babyfaced? Babyfaced?” She gave the most offended pout, her lips curled down, and an exaggerated frown. “Take that back,” she muttered a bit. You moved to keep walking, not knowing where you were going. “Hey! No, now, pet, you don’t get to walk away from that; only I’m allowed to be mean to my past selves,” she said.

“But, like you were, I mean, not my cup of tea, but you were a golden boy; everyone wanted you; at least that's how people were talking.” You laughed a bit. “Round babyface,” you doubled down, knowing it was a dangerous game, but it was thrilling to be able to tease her.

"Yeah, it was a bit round... None the less, you should say sorry, or I’ll have to punish you.” She grinned.

“You won’t; you like that I have some fight in me.” You replied. “I’m not a meek little thing; I bite.” You nodded softly.

"Yes, I suppose I do like the challenge, as long as you know your place at the end of the day.” She nodded, once again taking the lead and leading you out a large set of doors. You were once again outside; the courtyard was large; there was what looked like what used to be a fountain, but it had long since dried. You figured it might have been a beautiful courtyard at one point, so you decided to put the blanket down there, setting the basket down. You busied yourself fixing the blanket; there was a moment when you felt cold steel against the underside of your chin, forcing your gaze up. Slowly, you looked up, and you found yourself at the end of a rapier. Missy was staring at you with a stoic look until your eyes met, and a small smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth.

“W…what?” you asked. She let the blade tip trail down your throat slowly, not hard enough to hurt but definitely catching your attention as she lightly stopped prodding the middle of your chest, but slightly to your left where your heart sat. “Mis?” you asked.

“Get up.” She said firmly, there was almost a predatory growl at the end. You hurried to your feet as you felt her bump your hand with the hilt of another rapier. Your fingers curled around it, and the moment you took it, she gracefully moved away, spinning away and into a proper stance.

“Missy, I don’t know how to swordfight,” you said quickly.

“Sink or swim, lovely. Nothing like a sexy sword fight to get the blood pumping, don't you agree, my dear?” She grinned, and in a movement, she was on the offensive. Her movements were fluid, like a dance, yet she held such learned power. You held the blade like you had seen in movies, but it didn’t feel right, and her blade crashed down against yours, forcing you to step back sloppily. She tutted at you, and with a gliding move, she swiped up, barely missing your cheek because you had flailed the hand guard up at the last moment. You tried to put space between Missy and yourself, watching her movements. You were not ready for this impromptu sword fight, but you had to admit that watching Missy was definitely doing something for you. While in your thoughts, Missy moved again. This time you saw it and moved to let the blade crash against hers, moving to lunge forward, but she moved her foot around yours, using your momentum against you. She pulled her foot back, causing you to fall forward, but she caught you by the arm, so you didn’t hit the ground. Her blade against your throat for a moment before she laughed. “You are bad at this.”

“I’ve never sword-fought before!” You whined exasperatedly, and as you breathed more rapidly, the cold metal on your throat made you shiver.

“Reset, try again, watch me, follow my moves, calculate, feel the movement, and follow through.” She instructed and moved the blade, letting go of your arm, so you fell the rest of the way. You got back up and brushed yourself off before awkwardly holding the blade in a pose you thought could be proper, which only got an amused look from Missy before her eyes darkened again, and she was moving forward again on the offensive, forcing you into the defensive. The sound of metal whipping together filled the courtyard as you backpedaled, trying to watch her and the blade at the same time, trying to calculate. She was fast and fluid; this felt very one-sided, like a child with a wooden sword fighting Zorro or something. You tried to lunge and swing back, but she easily dodged or blocked; she peddled you all the way to the fountain, forcing you to move onto the lip, backing up more, and she followed gracefully.

You tried to get her to go on the offensive by stabbing at her shoulder, but it didn’t matter; she used the guard to block and the pommel to shove you away from her. You almost fell off the lip of the fountain, but you caught yourself, feeling your ankle almost twist. You stood and were about to try to tap out when you felt a sting against your cheek, and a playfully teasing giggle came from the woman.

You blinked and felt something thicker than water against your cheek; she cut you. How rude. Her smirk made it so much more: "I can't wait to wipe that wicked smirk off of your smug face." You moved forward with a bit more gusto and a lot more anger; your movements were not graceful but much stronger; you actually got her to step back a few times, putting her on the defensive for the first time; you were certainly not using the rapier in the intended fencing way, but that was fine; you had an excuse. “Oh…there she is, think you can? Then come on, wipe it off my face.” You heard Missy tease. "Are you mad? Are you so hurt that I gave you a love tap, my dearest?” She giggled again, "I had to give you a reason to fight back, not be such a scaredy cat... go on, hit me, try it lovely, make me sad and cry.” She said her tone was goading. You made valiant attempts, but she dodged them or parried them away. That was until you caught her arm. You both looked at each other in shock for a moment. Your eyes were wide as a dangerous smirk crossed her lips. "Well, now that we’ve both drawn blood, the fun can really begin.” She said, “This is fun…you are having fun being awful at this, I’m having fun watching you try so hard...now I am really going to play.” She said with a grin. You didn’t like the sound of that; you could tell she hadn’t been really going hard on you, but now you feared what would actually happen when she went after you for real.

It happened so fast. She had locked your blade against hers, forcing you back off the fountain, staying right on you as you tried to keep backing up to unlock your blades. Your back hit the wall hard, and you felt her tighten the blades, pushing harder against you. You forgot how strong she was. The blades slid up almost against your throat. You did the only thing you could do. You leaned forward, suddenly throwing caution to the wind as you crashed your lips against hers. Your eyes closed as you felt her seem to think of what she wanted to do here before she kissed back. It was chaotic and so passionate, but there was biting and tongues. Her free hand grabbed you right above your hip, keeping you pinned as her tongue forced its way past your slightly parted lips. There was a soft sound that escaped your throat as she moved to pin you with her body instead. You managed to get your blade free before you tried to pull back, but she wouldn’t let you go. She let her blade go, and it clattered, causing you to jump. She grabbed yours roughly and yanked it from you. It also clattered on the floor, but then her hand was cupping the side of your neck. Before it slowly moved down, the pads of her fingers traced slow patterns down to your thigh before pushing past the hem of the skirt you wore. There was a moment you assumed she was going to go further, but she didn’t; instead, she stepped back just a bit, licking her lips some as she watched you open your eyes. Your skin was blushing, your body was hot, and your breath was heavy as you stared at her, her hand still lingering on your upper thigh, almost your hip under your skirt.

“That was almost a good strategy,” she said calmly before she slipped her hand away as she moved to sit down on the almost forgotten picnic blanket.

You stood there for a moment and then eventually moved to follow. Sitting down, she grinned at you, "Oh, my dear, you seem flushed. Just wait until I get you back to the Tardis.” She said in a playful tone, but you knew it was anything but playful; it was a promise of something more intimate.

She threw open the picnic basket and paused at the jelly babies and crisps. “You think you are funny,” she said, looking at you, and you nodded with a soft grin.

“I am.” You nodded, ready to have a romantic picnic on a desolate planet in a collapsing universe, trying to race the clock before her past selves showed up. It was so crazy, but you were definitely looking forward to what she had planned for you when you got back to the Tardis.

#gomez!master x reader #missy x reader #the master x reader #doctor who #doctor who x reader

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writingcold · 9 months

Text

Hi there! Welcome to Chapter Eight. So, last chapter we got a peek at our Jacob and what’s under that storm that he seems to harbor. This one starts off with action and violence, so be prepared. The end is one of my most favorite interactions between Cora and Jacob. There’s a lot that happens, so let’s get going.

Sending love to @lvnterninthenight @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake for your help in this, you are all amazing.

This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine. Please do not take it for your own personal use. I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story. But it is mine.

Contents Warning: 18+. Heavy action. Violence. Blood. But… there’s a nice little……….. smile with Jacob.

Word count: approx 9800

Chapter Eight: The Chase, Behind the Curtain, Courtship - Jacob POV

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Jake cursed, bouncing down the swell of the road.

Porter was nearly bumper on bumper with him. He could barely register Danny yelling at him over the volley of shots, with one actually hitting the metal of the Earl in a bone rattling strike. Though panic bubbled in his belly, his hands were relaxed on the steering wheel, eye sharp on the road.

“Move it, Jake!” Danny burst out, gun in hand as he blindly shot out the window.

There was a flat, straight stretch of road ahead of them. Jake knew in his brain that the Earl could not win a foot race against Sheriff Porter’s new boiler. It was going to come down to Sammy’s bag of tricks and his skill to get them out of the law’s clutches.

Danny unloaded his rounds and was reaching for his spare when Jake hit the flat expanse. His brain felt calm, laying out the steps necessary for escape. One breath in. Followed by a second. Danny was returning fire until suddenly he whipped back inside.

“A tommy, Jake!” he shouted as a steady stream of bullets rained down on them.

The rear window shattered, startling him. The back end of the Earl swayed, threatening to tip as he tried to zigzag. Porter’s driver was nearly running on top of them as another volley of shots struck the Earl. They were both thrown forward as the lawman’s car slammed into the rear bumper, propelling them to skitter across the narrow road. Swallowing down the bile in his throat, he knew he had to try Sam’s newest trick, even though it was untested. He glanced down at the floorboards at the singular pedal on Danny’s side. Sam had explicitly said not to use it. Not until they could field test it properly.

“Danny, hit the pedal - hard!” Jake screamed as the Earl was slammed from behind once more.

“Sam said-”

“I don’t give a fuck!” he shouted as they were pounded a third time, the crunch of metal screeching through the air. “Do it now!”

They were rapidly running out of straight road when Danny hit the pedal. The driver’s side front and rear wheels locked and Jake yanked the wheel hard just as Sam had told him. Instantly, they were spinning. Jake kept his foot to the floor on the accelerator. Despite the shocked faces, the fella with the tommy gun unleashed on the Earl as it sped in the other direction, spraying the passenger side in a barrage of death pills.

Jake let out a whoop as they flew back across the straight expanse of road. It would give them perhaps a full minute worth of time before Porter’s driver could get his rig stopped and another half a minute to turn around. He did not hesitate to use the advantage. Two miles back, there had been a trail that he had used before to hide in the woods.

Danny was watching the best he could when Jake got the Earl into position deep into the trees, far enough away from the trail to blend in with the shadows, close enough to watch for any signs of Porter’s car. They were out and planted behind the cover of tree trunks. Both men’s chests were heaving as they struggled for breath.

“Damn, Jake,” Danny whispered, gun pressed against his chest as he gulped for air.

“They must’ve got fed money,” Jake said, his eyes studying the damage to the front end of the Earl. “No way Porter could afford anything new like that boiler and new machine guns. What the fuck?”

Danny leaned his frame against a tree with his chin pointed up to the thick canopy. His friend’s frame quivered as the nerves were leaving him. Jake closed his eyes, listening for anything that may indicate the sheriff’s vehicle. He would make them wait at least an hour before moving again.

Danny breathed out a slew of curses as he took in wounds on his thigh and arm where bullets had grazed him. Jake had his own where one must have ricocheted and grazed along the ribs of his left side.

“That was a little too close, Jake,” he said quietly.

“I don’t know who was driving, but he was damn good,” Jacob whispered as he took out his cigarette case. He tossed one across to Danny before taking one for himself. “And that fucking car. What the hell was it?”

Daniel was shaking his head as he poked at the wound on his arm. “Sam’s not going to like this-”

Both men froze at the sound of movement. Jake loved the Earl, but he would not hesitate to run and leave it behind to save their asses. The thunk of hooves and grind of gravel under wooden wheels allowed them both to relax, albeit marginally. Danny had his pistol at the ready while Jake slid his from its holster.

Slowly, the unassuming wagon and driver passed by, leaving the two men to breathe normally. Jake looked at his pocket watch, marking his countdown to be safe in leaving the tiny niche. His brain was already planning the best route to take to avoid the sheriff and his cronies. They would follow the trail to the east, probably nearing Quinnesac, then looping back to Kingsford. With luck, they would reach home before morning.

“Danny, why don’t you go take care of those? I’ll keep watch,” Jake said before lighting up his smoke.

The taller man stood, limping back towards the Earl. Blood was soaking down his leg. Jake knew it was probably going to be a wound for the doctor to fix, but at least Danny could start caring for it. A sharp curse let Jake know that it was probably going to be worse. Taking a long drag, he kept his aching body still. The adrenaline was gone, leaving him feeling completely spent.

The pops and cracks of the forest surrounded them. He focused on the breeze in the treetops. The sound soothed his frayed nerves. The deep smell of the rot and the denseness of time filled his mind with peace. Danny returned, the pain evident on his face.

“One catch?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Danny chuckled. “Right in the ass cheek. I’ll never hear the end of it from Molly.”

Jake grinned and nodded in agreement. He slid his pistol back into his holster as the minutes dragged by and the daylight began to wane. He fished out his flask and took a sip of whiskey before handing it off to his friend.

“Sam’s going to murder you this time for sure,” Danny remarked, wiping at his face before taking his drink.

“That bad?” Jake asked as he lit another smoke.

“It’s pretty fucked up, Jacob.”

“We’ll tell him his little spin trick worked. That’ll soften the blow.”

Danny snorted out a laugh. “Stroke the ego. Good plan.”

Jake joined his friend in a soft laugh. For as brilliant as his youngest sibling could be, the man’s ego took center stage and could be used in all sorts of fashion to gain an upper hand. The harder gate to pass this time was going to be Josh. This was all Jake’s planning - these extra runs to pump more revenue though the businesses were his doing. His twin was very aware that Jake was growing weary of being the bait in the stream of product distribution. They had agreed that they would continue this portion of the business only so long as they could all survive the runs. Jake knew even with Sammy’s engineering feats, his skills would only keep him in the lead for so long. There would always be someone faster, someone better that would be able to catch him.

It was not beyond him that it was stupid luck that he was not outdriven on the day. Danny knew it, too, he was sure. If he could not keep the two of them safe, then perhaps it was time to find a better way, or a new driver for the bait car. He set his hat to the side, running his fingers through his hair. Josh was going to be livid. He did not understand Jake’s push to a finish to the aspect of their current business. It was one thing when they were running for the local speakeasies in Detroit. It was even different when they were given their first post at home in Frankenmuth. Josh eyed a much bigger purse than any of them needed and they all just followed because he was Josh.

“Looking pretty pensive over there, Jake,” Danny said, lighting up his cigarette. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with Miss Cora, would it?”

Jake paused, a sharp response building, but it faded quickly. Everything he had been building, everything he had been putting into place had been to create a path that he wanted to follow with her. He screwed his mouth to the side like he was in thought. Instead of answering, he took another long sip of whiskey.

“Molly and Susannah really like her,” Danny said, as if trying to provoke some kind of conversation. “I really like her, Jake.”

Danny did not speak further when it became obvious that he was not going to nibble at the line of talk. He waited patiently until Jake was sure the coast was clear to roll the Earl out and head for safety. He whispered a silent prayer of thanks when the auto cranked to life, despite itself. He took his time, sticking to the horse and buggy trails he knew. He was sure they would use up the last bit of luck if they made it home before dawn.

Chapter Eight: Pt. 2, Jacob

Jacob stirred, his whole body was screaming at him. When he made to sit up, the wound on his ribs tugged, making him wince and groan. They had reached Kingsford at four in the morning. He had to rouse the doctor to care for Danny as a bullet had indeed lodged in the flesh of his upper thigh. Shot up with morphine and liquor, Jacob had dragged his friend into the house before depositing Danny in his own room. He had crawled into a hazy sleep filled with dreams of innocence that radiated out of Cora like sunshine. The day was moving towards evening when he woke. The pain in his side was still sharp but he would survive. After washing up, he looked in at Danny, finding him still asleep, despite the close heat of the room. Shoving a hard boiled egg and bread into his mouth, he made his way to the shop, knowing that perhaps Josh would be wondering what the hell had happened and why there was a bill from Doc waiting on the desk.

His thoughts were light. Happy, despite the frenzy that had been the previous day. He nodded and smiled at those he passed. He even held the door for a group of ladies as they walked into the tea room. Finally, he searched for Cora as he entered the store, only to find Renee assisting customers on her own. Politely smiling at the various faces, he walked back to the office, nervous to find the door closed. Tapping once, he did not wait for his twin’s call and made his way inside. Cora looked over her shoulder, very much reminding him of a deer in trouble. Josh leaned back in his opulent chair with a smug grin.

“Nice to see you, brother,” Josh remarked.

Jacob took his typical spot close to the desk. “What's the story here?”

“Ah, right to it. You’re always so direct,” Josh said with a tap of his fingers. “Miss Janas here has just agreed to be our new box manager.”

Jake froze, his fingers fumbling on his cigarette case. His eyes landed on her in surprise. His throat burned realizing there was shame in her eyes when she finally met his gaze. He felt sick. He struggled to understand why Josh would decide this; why he would act on the choice without talking to him first.

“Miss Janas, you will finish out today,” Josh said, his attention turning away. “You’ll start your new duties tomorrow. Don’t worry - Jacob here will show you all you need to do. Meet him-”

A derisive sound erupted from his throat. Closing his eyes, he forced a cough. “Meet me by the garage at nine.”

He kept his chin tucked as Josh dismissed her. Jake waited for the click of the door before allowing his anger to spill out of him.

“What the hell, Josh? Why would you do that?” he asked, hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Do what? Move our most honest employee, who is quick with numbers, into a position that best suits her skills?” Josh drawled back annoyingly.

“What happened to Smith?” Jaked asked through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, see I discovered that rat was skimming and doing light pours,” Josh said dismissively. “By the way, Mr. Smith is on the ice. I’ll be having Henry take care of that tonight.”

Jacob closed his eyes against his twin’s dark grin. “Why, Joshua? Why drag Cora into this?”

“I already told you why, Jake. She’s honest to a fault. She will not get greedy.” He kicked his feet up on the desk. “Besides, don’t you want your girl to know everything about you? Don’t you want her to be where you can be involved with her daily?”

“Not my girl. Not yet,” Jake whispered against the pain that flared in his chest.

Josh barked out a laugh. “I don’t know about that. You turn into a bitch every time she’s around.”

“I’ll not have you corrupt her, Joshua. She’s an innocent.”

He laughed out again. “Yeah, call it whatever Jacob, but that girl will do what it takes to improve her situation. It would not surprise me if-”

Jake stood straight, unable to hide the heat of his anger from his brother. Josh crossed his arms, taking on a cocky attitude.

“I’m trying to find a way out of this shit and you’re digging us deeper,” he spat. “I want a good and quiet life - not this. It was never supposed to be this.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” his brother said through a smile. “I’ve got my eye on that nice little bank and your innocent Cora has a tie to that. She has just provided some pretty good leverage to that goal.”

Jake’s mouth dropped open. “Why are you like this? This was never the plan when we took this job.”

“Just trying to amass all I can to give you that good and quiet life, brother.”

Jake scoffed. “You like this? I almost got Danny and I outrun yesterday. I did get him shot up. It was too close a call for my goddamn liking, and you’re in here waving the one thing that Cora needs to get her family fucking fed-”

“Come on, Jake. It’s a win here - she gets her family to a better place, getting paid twelve dollars a week,” Josh started, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I get to quietly use Miss Janas’ position as the banker’s sister-in-law as leverage.”

“Why not just utilize the fact the man is a goddamn freak?”

Josh snorted. “That only goes so far, dear brother. If I go after the bank, then I need substantially more than the fact that Archer has some unusual tastes.”

“Cora does not advance from the Tiger,” Jake asserted. “She does not need to be anywhere near the Lantern.”

“I mean, what would she even do? I don’t think she has the skills of any of the dancers, but that might be interesting. Oh, maybe behind the bar. You know, that may work. Low cut, having the titties out-”

“Stop,” he seethed, hand slapping down on the desk.

Josh laughed softly. “See - your girl. We didn’t even see this passion with… her.”

Jake glared at him knowing he needed to get out of that office before the fists started flying. Stiffly, he walked out of the office, pausing as the pain in his side erupted. His gaze turned onto Cora as she stood at the register, writing up a sales ticket. For Josh to step over him and use her as a pawn made the ire stab into his belly. Slinking out of the shop and down the alley to the garage, he came face to face with Sam. His chest grew tight at the sight of the Earl and all of the sickening damage that she had taken for him.

Jacob had not been able to see in the dark the full carnage that they had taken. The bullet holes, the shattered glass, the rear bumper that was nearly obliterated from where Porter’s new rig had rammed into them, the spray of the tommy gun running the length of the sides, lead all the way to the munch of the front where he hit a young tree trying to thread their way out of the woods. In total, the damage looked catastrophic.

Jake looked into his brother’s face, ready to spar over it all. Instead, Sam grabbed hold of him and hugged him close. He groaned as pain shot through his body over the jarring contact.

“Holy shit, Jake,” Sam said with a roughened voice. “How the hell did you two survive?”

Untangling himself and landing a hand on his ribs, Jake fished out a cigarette. “Nearly didn’t. That fucker’s got a new rig and driver. Porter caught our tail at Gladstone and didn’t let it go until after Faunus.”

“What was it?” Sam asked, face hard with thought.

“Have no idea,” Jake answered with a shake of his head.

“How could you not know?” Sam asked, poking his finger against the smashed rear panel.

“They were shooting bullets. I didn’t think it was a good time to stop and have a conversation about automobiles,” he snapped. He flopped his body down in the chair by the main workbench. “Can you fix it?”

Sam’s eyes flared. “Resurrect it is more like it. I’m not sure about it this time, Jake. It might be time to talk to Father about a replacement.”

“Your pedal thing worked,” Jake said, his grin widening.

“Pedal thing… You weren’t supposed to use that.”

“It saved our asses, Sammy. Made the J-turn super slick. One moment, we were heading north, the next - south. It was beautiful.”

“You could have stripped the-”

A soft gasp stopped all sound. Jake’s eyes snapped to Cora as she stood taking in the state of the Earl. He tried to stand up without flinching with pain while Sam was moving to grab a tarp. Cora started to turn away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” she started, her voice trembling.

Just as he was able to gain his feet, he froze as she turned back towards him. Her face held fear, but there was a questioning in her eyes that gave him pause.

“Jacob?” she asked, moving back towards the car, fingers extended.

Hearing his name seemed to unglue him from his frozen state. “Let me drive you home. I’ll tell you about it-”

“No,” she said, her fingertips touching a twisted piece of bumper. “You’re going to tell me about this right here. Now.”

Jacob started to grit his teeth until he saw the heat in her face. “Sammy. Why don’t you go and check on Daniel. I’m sure he’s going to need help.”

“Sure thing, Jake,” the younger sibling said, reaching for his jacket.

“Get the doors too, please.”

He waited until all three of the garage doors were slid into place before moving towards her. Her hands were tracing over the twisted sheets of metal and punctures of bullet holes. Her eyes held a sadness that pierced him, made him feel a shame he could not quite explain.

“Jacob?”

“Yes, Cora?”

“Could you have been killed?”

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment as she paused, eyes on him. “Yes.”

“Are you hurt?” she continued, step by step, each brush of her fingertips bringing back a flash of what had happened.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Is Daniel wounded as well?”

He cleared his throat, unable to force his mouth to work. Instead, he nodded. He heard the soft exhale she released as she stood on the passenger side, touching the hole that more than likely was the culprit of Danny’s bullet in the thigh.

“This kind of makes the Tiger look tame to me,” she said finally, turning her body towards him. “I think it’s time to explain to me what's behind the curtain, Jacob.”

Chapter Eight: Pt. 3, Cora POV

Cora was silent as Jacob drove her towards home. He did not try to loop their pinkies together. It was as if he could feel her working through all of the information he had given her. As he waded through his mire, he had acted like each new piece of reveal about his family would frighten her more than each bullet hole, crunch and mangled piece of the Earl.

The whispers had been true - to an extent. Looking out across the fields, Cora surprised herself in the lack of fear she felt. She knew she should feel something, be it fear, outrage, or at the very least surprised. The man beside her was a criminal. She saw the wreckage of the Earl. Her mind kept returning to the night before he had left, and his question about being bad, being stained. None of it, however, mattered. None of it was really Jacob.

Cora saw the remorse in him. She saw the aversion to putting Daniel and himself in such a situation that could have had them in such danger. She felt the need he had to walk away from it all, but the restraint he practiced due to his loyalty to his family was in the same vein as her own responsibility to her family.

Jacob rolled the Kissel to a stop in front of the cottage. With the day’s light lingering, Cora took note of the boys still in the yard with their mother walking down from the barn with Matthew by her side. Cora wrangled the boys away from the car while Jacob followed behind, watching quietly.

“Jon, get the water on the stove,” she ordered. “Georgie, you and Matthew can bring in the wood.”

“He won’t let me help with that,” Georgie snapped.

“Then, sir, you can help me,” she said, widening her eyes as she scooped him up. “Go wash up.”

The boy giggled and squirmed until she set him down. Jacob brushed his fingers against hers to get her attention.

“I think it’s time I talked with your mother,” he said quietly. “You still want to be my girl?”

She smiled at him. “I like the way that sounds.”

Cora made her way inside. Georgie was at the ready. They made biscuits and got potato soup on the cooktop to warm through. She found herself sneaking glances out the tiny window to see Jacob and her mother speaking.

“Is Mr. Jacob taking you?” Matthew asked, standing next to her.

“No,” she answered. “If he takes me, he takes all of us.”

“Really? He wants that?” her brother asked, a smile lighting his features.

She smiled and nodded. Her mother was leading the way inside, Jacob right behind with his hat in his hand. Cora handed Georgie the spoons and Jon the bowls to set out.

“Mr. Jacob will be staying for supper,” Rosemary said as she hung up her barn coat.

Cora got another setting down and handed it to Jon. She watched as her mother took his hat and coat to hang up. She had a moment of hesitation as she stirred the soup. After the amazing food he had prepared for her and his family, their very basic meal was a little underwhelming. Georgie was on the man’s side, tugging at him to his seat at the table. She liked that he watched as she moved about the tiny space. She liked hearing him talk to the little brothers about the cars and driving all over the county and beyond. It was nice to have so much excitement at their table. Something they had not had since her father had been able to sit with them.

After they prayed, Cora wondered if they would keep to their usual silence. Rosemary surprised everyone when she asked Jacob about his parents and brothers. It was like the dam broke, allowing Jonathan in particular to ask all kinds of questions, mainly pertaining to the Earl. Each word out of Jon’s mouth seemed to echo in Matthew’s eyes. It brought a smile to her as Jacob seemed to stir and settle in her family’s company.

“My younger brother, Samuel, is the one you ask about all the guts and stuff,” Jacob said with a nod. “He’s a mastermind when it comes to those heaps. Some people even call him The Engineer. ”

Supper sped by, much to Cora’s disappointment. She tried to savor the moments that had become so foreign. He had brought with him a glimmer of what it meant to be a family again. Georgie was tapping at his hip as he was getting his coat on. Jacob crouched down and the boy leaned in against him with a question only the two of them shared. Georgie looked concerned as he waited for his answer. Jake looked at her for a long moment. His face was calm. She couldn’t look away when he made a big show of bringing the boy in close with a wave and a hand over his ear so only the two could share the answer. Georgie lit up like a firefly. Jacob nudged him towards Rosemary with a finger up to his mouth to keep it a secret. Cora softened at the sight. She moved towards him to walk him out.

“You made a friend,” she teased as she walked towards him.

The gentle sound of assent tugged at her. He took her hand leading her out to the car.

“If Mother asked you to stay, I’m assuming you had a good conversation?” she asked.

He nodded, his face smooth. “I told her that you and I are alike in that we both have a keen awareness of loyalty to our family.”

Cora looked down at how he connected their hands. “I’m sure she had choice words over my current bull headedness in that area as of late.”

“No, but I did inform her that I understood that you come all together, not just you. I think I impressed her with sentiment.”

Her chin quivered as he drew close. “Thank you,” she whispered as he traced his fingers down her jaw.

She watched as he drove away. Her heart felt full. By the time she had cleaned the supper dishes, her mother was back at the table. Her face looked frail as rubbed at her brow, her mending before her.

“He’s a good man,” she said.

“He is,” Cora whispered back, sitting down. “Why don’t you let me do this and you go get some rest, Mama.”

“It’s been too long since we’ve had laughter at this table,” she said. “It felt good.”

Cora watched her mother’s thin frame rise from her chair and fetch a drink of water. She sorted through the boy’s pants that needed patching, and noticed that one of Junie’s dresses was still in the pile. Her mother patted her shoulder in thanks as she headed off to bed.

She worked into the evening, the only sound was within her thoughts as she worked. She made little mental notes to save for a new pair of pants for Matthew as his church pair were becoming too short, and Jon’s shirt was even too small for Georgie. The money she would be making from the Tiger would go a long way in a very short period of time. Jacob had to be aware of her reasoning, not that Mr. Kiszka gave her much of a choice. She was very much aware that the advancement was a direction that she had no say in. The farm debt would be finished in weeks, as well. Blowing out a soft breath, she felt like she was closing in on a finish that she had been so focused on that what was to happen after felt beyond her realm of her thought.

Cora wore the blue outfit into town for her first day in the Tiger. Her heart might have been fluttering at the prospect of seeing Jacob, but her stomach was lurching at the new responsibilities. Her mother had been eerily quiet when Cora was not out the door with her when it was time for milking cows. She took her time on her walk into town, noticing the first of the summer wildflowers were escaping the clutches of the edge of the forests, appearing along the buggy trail, as well as in the tall grasses.

Town was sleepy as she made her way towards the shop. Her eyes paused on Renee as she was sliding a variety of breads in the display by the window of the general store. The store clerk stopped in her work, offering a small wave hello. She rounded the corner, feeling very odd not to be inside the shop. As she grew closer to the garage, there was a huge clattering on the floor, followed by a barrage of curses. Cora stopped, unsure if she should continue.

“I told you to fucking hold it!” Sam’s voice was tight just as another round of clattering skidded across the floor.

She could hear Jacob, but his words were muffled and lost in an eruption of sound. Deciding it was worse to be late than the momentary embarrassment, she stepped forward, rapping her knuckles on the door before walking into the garage.

Both men were bent over the engine of the Earl, heads deep in work. The grumbling and banter made her smile as she realized the words were not much different than what would transpire between her own brothers. She stepped inside, quietly moving towards them. Her eyes landed on Jacob’s form, clad in trousers, but dressed down to just his undershirt, arms exposed, suspenders dangling at his hips.

Swallowing, she felt squishy as she moved close enough to smell his cologne. “Gentlemen,” she said quietly.

The men turned their chins towards her, their faces blank as she let her eyes fall down on the engine like she knew what she was looking at.

“Good morning, Miss Cora,” Samuel beamed. Jacob started to stand but the younger sibling made a sound followed by a rush of ‘no’s’.

He smiled sheepishly at her as he clammored to gain his hold on whatever it was once more. His eyes flicked up to her, catching her looking at him. “Cora,” he said.

If Sam had noticed the lack of formality, he did not let on. She shifted, eyes dragging down Jacob’s arm and across to his chest and torso. It was like he could feel her as he turned and leaned back to allow her to take him in.

“I hear you have a new posting,” Sam remarked, his focus sharp on his task. “Did you bring a book?”

“Pardon?” she asked, unwilling to look away from Jacob.

“You’ll have some downtime,” he continued. “Here. You can take this one. Hold on, Jake.”

Sam wiped his hands across a towel that had been shoved into the waist of his pants as he crossed the space. He was talking about a French author that was amazing and the machines he wrote about really were unique. Jacob drew in a frustrated breath. She giggled. Seeing him in such a position that pinned him to his spot was interesting.

“Oh, Jules Verne,” she replied, looking at the cover. “I enjoyed his Round the World in Eighty Days. Thank you.”

“You’ve read Verne?” he asked, his body still.

She nodded. “In the original French. It’s what my father expected.”

Samuel snorted in surprise. Jacob laughed quietly. Cora was unsure if she had just been boastful or had slighted him in some way.

“Damn, Jake,” he said finally. “She may be too smart for any of us.”

“I’m gonna make you smart if you don’t hurry up,” Jacob groaned as he shifted his hands on whatever he was holding onto.

The younger sibling shot her a wide smile as he bent back over, hair sweeping down the angles of his face. He quickly pulled and twisted, finally allowing Jacob to stand. Cora could not hide the blush as he leaned back to stretch out stiff muscles, revealing his full frame. Sam continued talking as he tinkered, but her whole focus was on Jacob as he slid into the crisp white dress shirt and was buttoning up. A coy smile was fixed on his mouth as he tucked in his shirt tails and pulled up his suspenders over his shoulders. He bent to pick up a dark navy vest and matching tie. He was very aware that her eyes were squarely on his fingers as he slid each button into place, followed by getting his tie into place. By the time he was sliding his coat on, Cora knew her cheeks were blazing red and was trying to hide, all the while Sam was talking about Captain Nemo and how he knew she was going to love the book.

Jacob offered his elbow to her and she fell into step. He walked towards a narrow side door, producing a key to unlock the heavy lock before leading her by the hand inside to find a thin hallway that would not have allowed two people to walk side by side.

“You liked watching me dress,” he said, voice barely a whisper, full of heat that struck her. “Didn’t you?”

It was not embarrassment that prickled under her skin. Her core clenched as her mouth begged to be pressed against his. There was an unfamiliar beat in her heart as he looked back at her. Her whole body felt like it hiccuped with its own pulse. He paused in his tread, leaning towards her until she felt the security of the wall against her back.

“You like what you saw,” he breathed, their noses bumping from proximity.

Her words failed as he brushed the back of his fingers first up, across her cheek, only to repeat with the pads of his fingertips down. She nodded. He was not the only man she had seen in such a state of undress, but he was the first to make her stomach feel like it slammed to her feet and her heart leap into her throat. His index finger and thumb tilted her chin up to bring her mouth to his own.

Whether it was because she was already off kilter, or she had been waiting for him to kiss her, Cora’s being was transcended. He dragged her bottom lip into his mouth and gave it a gentle suck, to which she mirrored precisely. He hummed, taking a moment to whisper against her lips to open her mouth. Suddenly, his tongue pressed forward against hers. She fought the urge to bite down, instead feeling a shockwave of heat spread across her chest and rocket through the rest of her body. His hand was firm on her cheek. His body felt solid against hers. She was a little more hesitant to follow, timidly moving her tongue against his rewarded her with another soft hum.

He moved away from her a fraction before he crashed in on her again. Cora relaxed her jaw as slowly, they moved together. This kiss was deeper. It was like their bodies were responding to the other as if dancing. His fingers came to rest, tangling in her own as wave after wave, they pulsed together.

A sound in the hall behind them startled him. His eyes were unfocused as he moved away from her. Cora let her eyes open, feeling like her body was aching for him to touch her in places she herself had not dared. He returned his gaze to her but only momentarily. She stepped forward behind him as he began to return back to the business at hand.

“This hall wraps the whole back of the building and shares with the dressing rooms above the dancehall and the Lantern below,” he said, before opening a narrow door.

Inside was no larger than a broom closet, but held a chair, lamp, and small table that looked anchored to the wall on one end, while along the long wall, there was a singular set of cabinets that looked like the ones inside the back of the mercantile shop, just without the top cases. He took her clutch and Sam’s book from her and set it under the chair before moving back to the hall. He slid back panels in the wall opposite the tiny room to reveal shelving of boxes and bottles.

“Down here,” he said as he pushed open a small panel on the bottom. “Empties. In the evening, you fill the empty flasks by weight. The scale is here. Filled flasks are here in the middle. The whiskey is up top. Empty bottles of that go to the right. Danny will keep you in stock.”

He moved down a set of panels to open. Jacob paused, looking like something was out of place. He mumbled something before shaking his head.

“You’ll find the ledger and the money box in here. The job is fairly simple,” he said, handing her the ledger. “Each flask is $2. The price is final. If there is any money extra, you do not give change. You simply take it. Think of it as gravy. For every $2, you put in a flask. Record each sale in the ledger,” he said, moving her into the tiny room. “I come for the cash box at the end of the day. On those days when I am out of town, Joshua will take care of it, but you return it to the shelf here and he’ll get to it in his own time.”

He explained how the drawer worked. The idea behind the Tiger was simple - the person buying the flask did not and could not say with honesty who sold them the liquor, while the opposite was true for the person on the other side of the drawer. The affair had to be quick so as not to draw attention from anyone in the shop. Clearly, the person who had the job before her had been something else, because Renee never said anything, and she had never noticed anyone spending more than a few moments in what she assumed to be the shared wall of the general store.

�� Cora settled herself down, a dozen flasks on the table, book in hand. The sounds of the hall were different. She could vaguely hear beyond the wall into the shop on one side, the clunks of shoes up and down stairs that she figured were the stairs for the dressing rooms, but faintly, she could hear music from the dancehall. Her mind drifted, the image of dancing with Jacob flitting through her mind like the notes that struck her ear. The drawer was yanked open and closed, suddenly snapping her out of her reminiscence and starting her day.

By the time Jacob was returning to collect the cash box, she had the box balanced out, the ledger reorganized to show actual numbers, and she was weighing flasks for the next day’s business.

“One hundred and fifty three flasks,” she said as stopped before her. “Is that typical? I mean, I also got three chapters of Sam’s book read, and the ledger was a mess so I sorted that out as well.”

He grinned as she pulled down the heavy register and started showing him what she had done. He took the time to allow her to explain her thought process. She also showed that she added an entry to record the ‘gravy’. He raised an eyebrow at her as she beamed.

“I hope I didn’t overstep, it just makes more sense this way,” she said as he took the ledger for a closer look.

“What made more sense?” Joshua asked from behind them, taking both of them by surprise.

“Mr. Kiszka, I, uh…” Cora watched as Jacob turned his body so they both could see her work. “I thought this may be a better way to keep track of the dealings back here. You can see-”

“Jacob,” he said, his eyes training across all of the numbers rapidly. “Mr. Smith was making fifteen dollars a week, correct?”

“Sounds right,” Jacob said with a nod.

“Miss Janas, you will not make our arranged twelve dollars a week,” he remarked as he took the book from his twin. “No, I think work like this deserves more. Eighteen to start. If you show promise here, perhaps we need to talk about accounting. You have a very real talent for this, don’t you?” “Thank you, sir,” she said, her stomach churning as Jacob’s gaze fell back on her.

“How about some supper?” Joshua asked, instantly slipping out of work with his slow, warm grin. “We can go over to The Boudreau.”

“I’m not dressed for-”

“You look beautiful,” Jacob whispered, leaning in close. “Don’t you worry about that.”

She felt the color strike her cheeks before she could stop herself. The matter settled, she collected her things while Jacob took the cash box, leaving Joshua behind to walk out with Cora. She followed him outside, catching sight of Samuel standing at the edge of the garage. Catching his gaze, the man’s dark eyes glinted with a wide smile.

“Good day?” he called with a wave. “How are you liking my book?”

“I think it’s lovely,” she answered as he walked up. “I don’t know about some of the more technical aspects. Perhaps it is lost between the translation from the native French. It doesn’t seem as crisp.”

“Sounds like a good debate,” Joshua remarked. “Sam, come to supper.”

Sam’s face was incredulous. “Absolutely. Crisp? Lost in translation? I am dying to know what you mean by that, Miss Cora.”

Sam held his elbow out to her and was rambling on about 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea being the superior novel to Round the World as the contraptions utilized were just so much better. She laughed as he started to describe the submarine and just how crazy it was that it was written before submarines were possible.

“Hey, she’s my girl!” Jacob called out, walking down the alley behind them, capturing everyone’s attention.

Sam beamed down at her. “Oh, yeah? Since when?”

“Since last night when I asked permission, Samuel. Hands off,” he said, gliding in between her and his younger sibling.

“Permission? Courting?” Joshua asked with raised eyebrows. “Well, that’s interesting.”

Cora rolled her lips in between her teeth as Jacob guided her over to the Kissel. He made his brothers sit in the back for the short drive over to the north side of town. The hotel sported a fancy eatery that was popular with the well-to-do of the town. The dining room was dressed in swaths of expensive fabrics, rugs, and lavish dark woods. She tried not to hold tight to Jacob, but the thought of not looking her part choked her. These were ladies without profession and knew no likes of chores, routine, or hardship. Many of these faces she recognized as being the owners of the households their servants purchased for from the shops.

The Maître D of the hotel greeted them at the door, smiling wide and shaking Joshua’s hand as they were led forward towards a table in the center of the restaurant. It was not a full house, but it was busy with the likes of those who lived in the larger homes of the town. She spotted one of the ladies that had been in the parlor with Junie when she had seen her. The woman’s eyes flashed over to her briefly before looking away without recognition. Cora thought that was probably good for her sister and that no slight had been taken away from that day.

Seated, Cora turned on everything she knew about table decorum in an establishment such as The Boudreau from what she had read in her books. She glanced around, mirroring those ladies she could see. Her eyes pinched when the waiter walked away without handing her a menu. Jacob leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“Point out what you want and I’ll order for you,” he said, leaning back to take in her expression.

“That kind of place,” she responded with an eye roll.

Jacob nodded once before turning his attention to his twin who was speaking softly about others in the room. Samuel grinned at her over his menu, obviously ready to verbally spar over the book. The goofiness in his face made her giggle. It looked like he needed a challenge that was beyond the working of the Earl.

“Before we do this, Mr. Samuel, I plead that I am only three chapters in, and a solid opinion of the overall story is beyond my reckoning at the moment. Furthermore, I reserve the right to change my opinion on the novel for when I finish the entirety of the piece,” she said with a sure smile.

Sam’s jaw slacked a bit at her ribbing. Jacob dropped his hand under the table to squeeze her hand. One glance and she was rewarded with a smirk that only an older brother could give.

“Are you rethinking this line of debate, Samuel?” Joshua jabbed, his eyes actually on a table in the distance. “I think she may be too much for you.”

“Then we only talk about the first three chapters of each book,” the youngest Kiszka remarked, setting his menu down. His dark eyes sharpened on her. “Unless, Miss Cora, you find shortening your argument may dampen your chances for a win in this matter.”

Sam snorted out a laugh that surprised the table next to them, and he did not care. Cora was busy pointing to the meal she wanted before turning her attention back to the matter at hand. Sipping at her water, her attention moved once more as Mr. Archer walked in with a woman who was not her sister on his arm. A spike of ire poked in her belly as her brother-in-law was seated a few tables away. The woman that he sat next to was closer to his own age, wearing expensive clothing and even dared to wear rouge on her cheeks. Joshua had noticed where her gaze had fallen, his eyes hardening.

“Who is that with Mr. Archer?” she asked, unable to look away at how he carried on with her with such familiarity.

“I believe that is Mrs. Miller,” Joshua answered.

Jacob’s hand slid into her own. Cora’s throat constricted. “But who is she?”

He moved closer to her, but Joshua was already talking. “I would dare say not a relative,” he hummed as Mr. Archer kissed the back of the woman’s hand. “Oh. Oh, right. Definitely not a relative.”

Cora could not mask the surprise on her face. “Jacob?”

He tightened his hold on her hand. “Easy, Finch,” he whispered.

“Is this normal?” she squeaked out.

“No,” he answered. “And unexpected.”

Samuel was looking over his shoulder at her upset. When he turned back to her, he mouthed something she did not understand. Suddenly, he started coughing, drawing the attention of his siblings first, followed by the few close tables. He quieted for a brief moment, only to gasp loudly and a whole new round of coughing that was ragged and loud. She saw across Sam’s shoulder Mr. Archer’s face turned towards her, recognition in his eyes.

A waiter arrived at the edge of their table with a concerned look. Samuel let out a few more soft coughs as he straightened his back, hand dramatically placed on his chest.

“Oh, goodness,” he struggled. “Oh, my, my… My sincerest apologies, everyone. I do not know what overcame me. Perhaps the air grew too thick. My pardons, sincerely.”

Mr. Archer sat stick straight, eyes dispassionate on his companion. Mrs. Miller mirrored his actions, but her face was blazing a sour color under her rouged cheeks and mouth. Samuel leaned forward against the table, a dark smile on his lips.

“I think he will be leaving soon, Miss Cora,” he laughed quietly.

Sure enough, Mr. Archer was waving at the waiter as she was standing up. Joshua stood quickly, crossing the distance to the banker. Cora watched as her sister’s husband shook Mr. Kiszka’s hand with one eye on her.

“What is going on?” she asked.

“Business,” Jacob answered stiffly.

Samuel let out a deep sigh. “I guess our mood is squashed for Verne.”

“I suppose so,” she said, her voice quiet.

“That’s all right,” he said. “Perhaps it’ll be better to spar when you are finished with the piece to better utilize the entirety of the masterpiece.”

“It is like only debating over a corner of a painting instead of seeing the work as a whole, isn’t it?” she smiled.

Jacob turned his chin towards her ear. “Are you well?”

“I just do not understand. He was making a mockery of my sister. His place is not with that woman,” she answered. “Have you seen this before?”

“Not out here,” he said. “Not in this type of public.”

Sam’s eyes were soft as he cleared his throat. He nodded as he began to fiddle with his fork. “Sorry, but not just there. Sometimes at the diner.”

“Often?” she whispered.

Both men nodded. Cora dragged in a sharp breath and squared her shoulders as Joshua returned to the table without a word. The cool mood that had settled over them was brittle. Their dinner had arrived and the moment broke when Sam stated he could have made his supper better than the chef. That spurred the debate for the rest of the meal between Samuel and Jacob.

Joshua seemed to reside elsewhere, even though he interacted when he needed to. She had a chill that had started at her feet and lapped at her body like she was standing in a wide lake. She fought to keep the fog from her brain and the need to analyze each moment of what she had seen. She desired only to run to her sister with questions, but she wondered if Junie even knew what was happening beyond the borders of her own home.

They piled into the Kissel, stopping for a moment for the brothers to get out at the dancehall before heading out to the country. Cora had lost herself in the rolls and turns of the land, its shadows growing long and dark. She had not noticed that he had slowed down, pulling the car over to the side and cutting the engine.

“After yesterday, I think we… No. I think I need to be nothing but honest with you.”

Cora looked at him. Swallowing, she nodded. The corners of his mouth turned down in a tight curve.

“I need to get out of this business,” he whispered. He looked tired as he scrubbed his hands across his eyes. “Josh wants the bank. I am trying to tell myself that Archer’s little misstep tonight wasn’t somehow orchestrated for a manner of leverage.”

Cora remained quiet for a long moment. The word leverage echoed through her. Her brows cinched as the words tumbled out of her, “Surely he wouldn’t use me against my sister?”

Jacob barked out a hard, ugly laugh. “Do not allow my brother’s charisma fool you. He’s petty and ruthless. He’ll use whatever it takes to get ahead. Even tarnishing us around him to get to his means.”

“Why does he want the bank?” she asked.

“Fast way to clean money, expand our services in the region, especially for the friends in Chicago,” Jacob answered.

“I don’t want to ask my next question,” she whispered, her mouth pursing as she fought the emotions. He took her hand and tugged her to move closer. “Junie’s wedding day.”

He snorted. “I was fighting myself to not run and swing at that preacher for his mistake.”

“Your hesitance shaking Mr. Archer’s hand - is he bad?”

“We can all be bad, Cora.”

“Will he hurt her… on purpose?”

She watched as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

Cora’s mind was invaded by mud. She tried to see a path that would protect Junie, but the absolute cutting her away from the family had destroyed any possible way to know there was trouble.

“He hasn’t allowed you to see her since our visit?” Jacob asked.

“No,” she sniffed. “I try every few days, but the housekeeper says that the family is not in the house.”

“She has not been to church services since the wedding, I’m sure.”

Cora thought back to May. He was correct. “I’m so lost in this. She must be so scared.”

He shifted beside her, turning his body to face her. He tilted his face up, brushing the pad of his thumb across the ridge of her cheek. “I’ll see if I can put the Archer household on the docket for visiting on Sunday,” he said softly. “I’m sure this is a button for Josh to press, but we can use the time for figuring out if Junie needs help.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her. Cora breathed him in. Her body started to shed its cold as his hands tightened on her. Unlike her closeness with her sister, she could feel the solidness of his body beneath her touch. The sound of strength in his heart lulled her. The moment made her weary. The fear for her sister was real. There had been signs that perhaps Mr. Archer was not the gentleman that he presented himself to be at church.

“I don’t think you can be bad, Jacob,” she whispered.

There was a grumble in his chest beneath her ear. “I’ve done bad, Finch. I make no excuses for it, but I’ve done it.”

“What do you want to do when it’s time to leave this behind?”

“I don’t fucking care what we do. I just want quiet. Something to be proud of and call our own.” He paused, his whole body becoming frozen beneath her. He took in a raspy breath before touching his mouth to her hairline. “Sorry. That came out harder than I wanted.”

“We,” she whispered, rising up to look down into his face.

He smiled as he traced her mouth. “What about it?”

“You said ‘we’. Do you think of this as ‘we’?”

Cora’s heart sloshed as he nodded. He kissed her, gently at first, deepening it as he sat up, pushing her back as he moved over her. She held him tight to keep from falling over, but felt his hand slide around the small of her back to hold her in place. Her body felt antsy like she could not be close enough to him. She moved against the seat and they pressed down until they were horizontal. Their mouths moved together. He brushed his hand across the shallow curve of her hip, only to repeat with more pressure. She released a long breath at the touch. The heat left behind as he brought his touch up, nearing the swell of her breast made her insides stutter. His palm stopped on her ribcage. He pulled his mouth away from her and she whined softly at the lack of contact.

Her eyes were slow to open. He stared down at her as he kept his body propped above hers. The ends of his hair tickled his chin and her forehead. She listened as he drew in a long, smooth breath. He touched his forehead to hers with a soft laugh.

“I need to get you home before I take this too far,” he whispered.

He pressed one more kiss to her mouth, rolling her lip between his before sitting up, tugging her along to land upright against his chest. He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Cora’s eyes closed. She allowed her brain to pause in the moment and pressed her mouth to his once more, dragging his lip in between her teeth and gliding her tongue across. His hand cupped her cheek, bringing her closer, up upon him, deepening their kiss once more. Something in her core rippled as his free hand looped around her waist, his fingers coming to rest on her opposite hip. He shifted until she was nearly in his lap, never breaking contact.

Lightheaded and her heart racing, Cora dared to bring her hands up to touch his face. He breathed out as the pads of her fingers brushed across his cheeks, followed by his neck. She rose slightly above him and was rewarded by him rising up into her. Her body begged for more. Her mind was exploding with trying to keep up with all of the ways he felt, how he touched her, how he tasted…

He dropped his chin, effectively stopping their movements. He was nearly gasping for air as Cora tried to reconnect. He gently moved her away. His eyes were stormy. Cora sought him again, but he merely smiled.

“I can’t continue,” he whispered. “I want to, but it’s not right.”

“I like the way you touch me,” she whispered back. “I want more.”

He blew out a breath along with a shaky laugh. “Finch,” he sighed.

She watched as he brought her hand up to his mouth and planted a kiss against her palm. Cora felt her breath still as she took that palm and rested it against his cheek. His dark eyes drifted closed. His hair was a mess and tickling against his ears and jaw. His whole body became still save for the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

“You’re beautiful, Jacob.”

The words fell from her lips before she had a chance to reflect on them and consider if they were right to utter into existence. His face tilted into her touch. A soft hum struck her ears.

“You’re so unspoiled, Cora,” he whispered. “I will do everything I can to be worthy of this.”

Before she could argue, he turned away, turning the engine into life. Her thoughts swirled between the pain of her sister, the starkness of home and the heat of the man beside her. In it all, somehow, her heart felt strong. She was not alone.

Well. I hope you enjoyed today’s chapter. A lot happened. This will be the only chapter posted for this week. Life is getting busy, but next week, there may be two depending on how the week goes. I hope you smile today. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. See you next time!

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sentientgolfball · 11 months

Text

Silly little ghoul headcanons

Apologies for how long this is I have too many thoughts

Little content warning there are mentions of death and murder

-elemental transitions are extremely difficult and dangerous to perform. This is because in order to change the very core of a ghoul one must be completely taken over with the desired element.

-so to become a fire ghoul one must be engulfed with flame. For water one must be submerged until the water takes them. Buried alive for earth. Accepted by the storm for air. Basically a ghoul has to be brought to the brink of death using the desired element.

-it puts the body into survival mode and the only way to survive something as intense as death by elements is to adapt. That’s why transitions are so rare. Most ghouls don’t even attempt them because of the risk, but if they do they better hope their will to live is strong enough

-there is also no known way of transitioning to quintessence. Quintessence ghouls are already extremely rare due to their unique creation. There isn’t much known about them

-quint ghouls are the only ghoul type to not be created as just a beast of Hell, but rather a human who died young and traumatically with a powerful desire to live. They have no memories of ever being a human, but it is very common for them to have strangely detailed dreams of people they’ve never seen before. No one knows what may happen if a quintessence ghoul were to remember their past life

-they may understand the fact that they were once human if told, but it really means nothing to them since they have no recollection of ever living like one. To most, they’ve just always been a ghoul simple as that though some have gotten curious and have attempted to find ways to remember to no avail

-multi ghouls are also rare-ish but for a different reason. They don’t have a core element, sure they can learn small bits of elemental magic if taught how but besides that they are essentially blank slates. In the hierarchy of the Pit, that makes them the weakest. They have to fight to survive way more than an elemental ghoul

-they are typically solitary, being kicked out packs if not just just straight up killed. It is not unheard of, though, for small packs to be formed

-they’re also the most commonly summoned. Everyday in the Pit is a fight for them, so they typically hang around the cracks in the world waiting for the magic to burn bright so they can escape

-now obviously since ghouls are creatures made in Hell they look a lot different between the two worlds. On earth, they’re pretty much squished into a form that’s actually sustainable (mostly humanoid body shape, horns, tails, fangs, greyish skin corresponding to their element) but when exposed to their element their magic is a bit stronger giving them a bit more of a monstrous look

-for example, when a water ghoul is submerged they’ll gain extra fins, webbed hands and feet, bioluminescence etc. or when an earth ghoul is surrounded by nature they’ll start to grow various plants on their bodies and leave trails of grass and small flowers where they step

-the element of a ghoul also affects how they appear on earth. Fire ghouls generally have reptile like skin with blotches of scales and spaded tails. Water ghouls have shark-like skin and must regularly submerge in water to avoid drying out. They have the thickest tails with fins at the end. Quintessence ghouls have fur that ranges from peach fuzz to full pelt. They can have either furred or spaded tails. Air ghouls have splotches of feathers around their bodies and are unnaturally light due to their hollow bones. They either have long, elegant tail feathers or a whip like tail that ends with a tuft of feathers. Earth ghouls are typically very large and unnaturally strong even for a ghoul. They have a thin layer of fur. Their tails either end in spades or with fur. Multi-ghouls have human-like skin and are drained of color. While elemental ghouls skin and hair color are affected by their core element, multi ghouls are left in greyscale. Though, when using magic of an element their eyes will change color to match. Their tails either end in fur or spade

-generally speaking, ghouls typically have paw like feet with retractable claws on both hands and feet. However, any ghoul (minus water) can have hooves though it is most common in earth ghouls

-speaking of water, they need the most care after being summoned. In their Hellish forms they live in the lakes and oceans meaning they don’t have legs. The method that seems to be working so far is to throw them into the lake immediately upon summoning so they can learn to swim with legs first and then learn to walk. This also means many water ghouls need mobility aids, even after learning to use their legs on land. They also tend to have joint pain/problems

-ghouls are also pack creatures meaning they have no concept of personal space. Being accepted by a ghoul is like living with a clingy cat. They WILL follow you around everywhere and they WILL break into your room and lay on you with their full weight at 3am because they’re bored. They will also attempt to clean you at random times to show their care. Do not be surprised if you wake up to a ghoul trying to lick you.

-this has also led to many talks about privacy. It tends to be an issue with new summons that once they learn humans take showers to get clean they may try to casually hop in the shower with you to help to show that they like you

-it’s also pretty uncommon to see a ghoul by themselves. They’re almost always either with another ghoul or a human they particularly enjoy. If you do catch one alone either something is wrong or you’re about to get jumped, either with affection or murder it depends

If you made it this far I thank you for reading because I am constantly having thoughts about ghouls and I need to get them out of my brain :]

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghoul #ghoul hc #ghoul headcanons #ghost bc #I’m a bit obsessed

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fanfic-obsessed · 2 years

Text

Fixing Little

This what if is not quite a fix-it as it fixes very little. What if, in those moments as Order 66 went live, the culmination of what was happening (the ‘betrayal’ of his men, Anakin’s bond going dark, the sheer amount of death he could feel) broke Obi Wan just a little further than in canon. He didn’t go dark, though if he didn’t go dark then he may actually be incapable of it. But deep inside his soul, the part of him that can do what needs to be done for the galaxy just…shattered.

He returns to Coruscant, sees the temple burning, and abjectly refuses to believe that Anakin did this. Full on denial, it must be someone else wearing Anakin's face (he tells himself that the technology already exists). He doesn’t say anything to Yoda, whom he fears will break the denial.

He rationalizes that if someone is walking around disguised as Anakin, then Padme could be in Danger. They must have Anakin restrained somewhere (he can’t be dead, Obi Wan would know if he was dead), and she could be used as leverage. He goes to her. She has heard horrible rumors about what was happening, what Anakin had done. Obi Wan denies the rumors, convinces her that someone else must be using Anakin’s face and they needed to get her somewhere safe so she can’t be used against him. She tries to argue back that they need to rescue Anakin. Obi Wan tells her that she and her Children have to be protected, that if they are to have any hope of reducing Anakin from whoever had him, they need to make sure that Anakin’s family could not be used as leverage. They don’t know what is going on, just that it can't be safe for her/the kids. In this conversation it comes out that the 212th had fired on him, that Cody had fired on him and he couldn’t deal with that right now. He admits that they had an understanding, they would explore their feelings for each other after the Clones were freed, that he was in love with Cody. He muses, with an almost manic hope, that they missed, that maybe shooting him off that cliff was the only way to protect him (In this universe it was not, it was a fluke).

They escape, fleeing into the Galaxy mere hours before a crowd of thugs (not even professional enough to be called mercenaries) sent by Palpatine to kill Padme and make it look like a Force User did it (to further tie Vader to Palpatine). One even audibly muses that all it would have taken was a specific hit to the stomach and they could have made it look like she had been force shoved into miscarriage and death. Instead they knock a few things around and make everything look rifled through, thinking that would be enough.

Vader returns two weeks later from Mufustar. He has killed the Separtist leadership, and has secretly adjusted the Chips in the Clones so that their loyalty was tied directly to him, not the Emperor (Anakin is many things but actually stupid is not one of them. He knows that Palpatine has betrayed his last few apprentices and wants insurance). He finds Padme missing and their home ransacked and is ready to blame the Jedi (Though he is not sure who survived and who didn’t), however unbeknownst to anyone, even Padme, he had planted a number of spycams in her apartment (Anakin justified it with making sure he could track her if she was ever abducted, but let’s be honest that is not what he was using for, as quick to jealousy as he was).

He watches the videos. Sees Obi Wan not only defends him, but puts Padme and their child’s safety over everything. Hears how in love with Cody Obi Wan is (thus not likely to be lusting after Anakin’s wife). How broken up Obi Wan is over Cody trying to kill him. A switch is flipped for Anakin/Vader. Before Obi Wan (if he still lived) was a Jedi, an enemy who might have abducted his wife. Now this was Anakin’s Obi Wan, who had chosen him over the Jedi. It occurs to Anakin that even after agreeing to fall, he had continued to have visions of Padme’s death for a few days, but the last vision was the night before this video. This cements the fact that somehow Obi Wan had saved Padme.

Then he gets to the second video, where the thugs break in. It is somehow clear that the Emperor had sent them to hurt or kill Padme and their child. He memorizes the thugs faces (this is still very much Vader, these thugs are going to wish for death).

Vader calls Commander Cody to him. In this universe the personalities and memories of the Clones are largely intact, the chips merely enforce that the Jedi are the ‘enemy’ instead of ‘ally’ and that anything that the chip labels ‘in charge’ says is correct (Each clone rationalizes the orders differently). When Cody arrives he calls Vader ‘My Lord’. Vader cheerfully announces that Cody does not need to call Vader, My Lord. He would be one of the few who were privileged enough to call him Anakin when in private, Lord Vader or Sir when in public. Vader announces to Cody that Obi Wan survived, that the 212th had missed. Before Cody can offer up any reasoning, but not before Vader feels a sharp spike of fear (Cody fears that the whole Battalion was about to be punished), Vader tells him that was a good thing because it turns out that Obi Wan Kenobi was not actually a traitor. When given the opportunity he chose not to betray Anakin, or Cody.

Vader has Cody watch the first video from Padme’s apartment. After it ends he is quiet for a moment, then asks if Anakin knows where they are. Anakin does not, he says that in the chaos of the Empire rising, it was clear that they did not know who to trust and so are hiding for Padme and Obi Wan’s safety. Vader reiterates that he and Cody needed to make it safe for them to come home. He also tells Cody not to feel guilty for shooting at Obi Wan, that it was likely even Obi Wan didn’t know he wouldn’t betray them all at the word of the Jedi.

Vader had been planning on sending the 212th out to hunt the remaining Jedi, but he would need them for something even more dangerous. He then shows Cody the second video. Vader tells Cody that the Emperor is the reason that Padme and Obi Wan are not safe to come back, to come home. Cody thinks about it for a few minutes and says that Fox told him slugthrowers are particularly effective against Force Users. Vader claps him on the back and says ‘good man’. Slug throwers are rare enough that they are only able to outfit three platoons with them. Those three take point when the 212th, backed by the Coruscant Guard storms the newly appointed imperial Senate.

After killing the Emperor, Vader considers who should lead the Empire. He knows that he does not want to be Emperor, all he wants is his family. He knows it’s not safe enough for Padme or Obi Wan to be in charge, and making Cody in charge might take time away from him being with Obi Way (As far as he is concerned Cody is practically already his in-law, emphasis on the his). Cody suggests Commander Fox, remembering that he was practically running the republic.

Fox is collected and agrees on a few conditions. First Vader/Anakin is to make some kind of binding vow that he would not hurt Fox or his brothers ever again. Anakin agrees, so long as they do not do anything to hurt his family. He wants to know why they were so ready to obey so Anakin tells him about the chips. His second condition is that his chip needs to be removed, if he is to be in charge he will be actually in charge. After his chip is removed, Anakin convinces him that the rest of the chips should remain in, to keep the clones from feeling the guilt of what they had done. Fox agrees. They agree to change the chips so that Anakin and Fox both default to the higher authority, and that the clones have as much free will as possible without letting them realize what they had done. Fox’s final requirement is that the remaining Jedi fall under his personal protection (unless they are actively working against the Empire). Anakin agreed and they announce that Fox is now the Emperor. A few politicians protest, Mas Amedda is among them, Anakin kills him in a horrific way. Then Fox and the CG also kill a few Senators as a message (some of the worst as far as abuse of the CG went). The clones work both to secure a panet of their own, subdue any rebellion against the new empire, express their displeasure with those that had mistreated them, and search for the surviving Jedi.

A galaxy wide announcement that the Jedi were no longer traitors, That any survivors can come forward to interact with the GAR and get help in rebuilding. There were not many who came forward.

The 212th and the 501st specifically hunt for Padme and Obi Wan, who have buried themselves deeply enough that they have not heard any news. By this point a few months have passed.

In their hidey hole, Padme is recovering from giving birth to twins. It has become abundantly clear that something is broken in Obi Wan, something that is not healing. By this point they have realized that if Obi Wan goes to rescue Anakin (as they both still believe that he is being held somewhere) that he will get them both killed. The only thing keeping him even remotely in the present is Padme and the Twins. He was successful in using the Force to keep Padme alive during childbirth, but anything beyond that sends him into a strong panic attack. They are waiting for Padme to heal so that she could go to figure out where Anakin is being held and rescue him. They are on a barely inhabitable moon, with no contact with anyone.

Because of the conditions they are living in (Slightly wonky gravity, abundant but not particularly nutritious food, A sun that is a bit too weak to provide all of the nutrients that they need), the twins are nearly two before Padme is fully healed from their birth. Before she is comfortable taking them and their shuttle into the wider galaxy. Obi Wan and the twins stay in their hideaway and Padme is telling herself that she is not anxious over the fact that they have no way off the planet if something goes wrong. But a single woman alone is easier to disguise and hide than traveling anywhere with two toddlers (A man alone would be even better but whatever broke in Obi Wan just wasn’t healing).

She has no way of knowing but her face (and Obi Wans) is among the best known in the Galaxy. The Empire has been looking everywhere for them and the first Cantina she stopped in to see where to start looking for her husband, she is captured (Exceedingly gently. Lord Vader, right hand of the Emperor, was very specific about what would happen to the person who so much as a bruise on Padme Amidala).

There is a small company of Imperial Troopers (all clones, because Emperor Fox only trusts nat-borns that can make a binding force vow, as any serving Force Users would need to) in a small barracks on the smuggler's moon that Padme chose. This is where Padme is locked up, in as comfortable a room as can be until ‘Lord Vader’ and the two battalions he headed up arrived. They were about a week out. Padme is panicking, and nearly escapes three different times in the first day (this is aided by the fact that none of the clones were old enough to have fought in the Clone Wars). Afraid of hurting her they finally have to sedate her to keep her comfortable.

Padme wakes up on the Resolute, Anakin is sitting next to her. He calls her angel and acts like the man she married, felt like her Anakin, if she could ignore the gold ringing his blue eyes. And unlike Obi Wan, Padme is not in broken denial. She realizes that the rumors that Obi Wan had so fervently denied were true. Her husband had murdered the children at the temple.

And she has two choices. She can challenge him. She and Obi Wan had spoken at length about what pulling on the darkside does to a being (Though Obi Wan only remembered about half of those conversations) and Anakin always had a temper. It would be too easy to rile him to the point that he killed her on accident. Obi Wan and the children would never be found. They would live and die on that little moon, never having to see.

But her brother would continue to drift. As the children got older and needed him less. She could already see the signs, the substance of him vanishing. And her children would never see beyond the gray dust of their little homestead, would never know anyone but each other.

Or she could accept him.

Padme took a breath, “are you able to pretend?” She asks, “at least for a little while?”

Anakin caulked his head, confused “Padme?”

Padme had been a queen, had been a senator, she had given birth and left her children behind to find her husband. Padme was so tired of being the strong one (She had enough conversations with Obi Wan, late at night that he never remembered, to know that he had spent so long being the strong one. Too long. She could not begrudge him the cracks in his soul, but at the same time she wondered when she would break and how). “Are you able to pretend you never touched the dark? For Obi Wan’s sake?”

She couldn’t ask for her children, who were not yet old enough to understand. By the time they were, all pretending likely would be done. She could not ask for herself, because she had already seen. But for her brother, for the ice that had made his cortis core brittle, she could ask.

For a moment she watched the gold spread, a thread of jealousy twining its way through his abrupt glare. Then she watched him take a breath and the gold receded again, and then further until all that was left was blue.

She smiled at her husband, “Thank you. I think the only thing that has kept him alive some days was the thought that we would rescue you. To find that had been beyond his reach from the start would have killed him.”

She heard a soft, wounded noise from further away. There, a few feet from her bed was Commander Cody. “Where is he?” The commander asked.

She gave the coordinates, which were then passed onto navigation. The 40 hour trip in her little shuttle was cut down to 6 in larger ships. Those six hours were spent with Anakin basically hanging off of her and getting a little information on what had been happening. Emperor Palptine, the Sith Lord did not surprise her as much as she thought it should have. Fox the successful, mostly benevolent Emperor was somehow even less surprising. She insisted they had a story to give Obi Wan when they picked him up (Anakin escaped ‘captivity’, freed or fixed whatever caused the clones to fire on the Jedi, killed Sidious (who in turn had killed Palpatine. She did not want Obi Wan to deal with the guilt of Anakin spending time with a Sith Lord while under his care) for being Evil, and put Fox on the throne because he honestly had no idea what to do next). The Clone troopers, particularly the ones from the 212th were practically vibrating in excitement over getting to see Obi Wan again.

She puts her foot down and only Anakin and Cody would go down with her to collect Obi Wan and the Children (Anakin: Wait Children.Plural. Padme: Twins, I named them Luke and Leia). She had been gone for longer than she had hoped and did not know what kind of day Obi Wan was having.

The kind of day he was having was panicked, which frankly was a bit better than dissociative, but only slightly. He had the children herded toward the back of the cave they lived in, shaking but clearly putting himself between them and danger (she didn’t know if it was the potential real danger the ships represented, or something that was within his head). He held no weapon (Hadn’t been able to hold so much as a knife for anything other than cooking). She managed to get him calmed down, convince him that they are safe and that there were people here who he would want to see.

It became immediately clear what Padme was talking about and why she insisted on a story to tell Obi Wan. Neither Anakin nor Cody had seen him look that fragile before. They are able to keep the story Padme concocted and get everyone back to Coruscant. No one is quite sure how to help Obi Wan (Therapy. The answer is so much therapy. Seriously, even in this universe he has issues that go so far back that he is the only one left alive who even knows what happened, and he is far from reliable. However no one thinks about getting him therapy, mostly because they all need it and are avoiding it).

It helps, a little, that the Force is a little lighter than it had been (the death of so many of the Jedi and the chips balanced against Sidious’s death and the reprogramming of the chips). He gets better every day that they don’t require him to be anything other than Cody’s Husband, Anakin and Padme’s brother, Luke and Leia’s Uncle. He avoids most of the surviving Jedi (Save Quinlan Vos, who is the only person who never triggers a panic attack, an Anxiety attack, or a dissociative episode) until years later and never even looks at where the temple once stood (The Jedi could not return to it, not a one, the convergence of the Force that it sat on was just too polluted in that location. Eventually it was decided to tear the building down and build a new temple, knowing it would take thousands of years to the living nature of the old oneInstead of building it on Coruscant itself, it is built on Centex-1, one of Coruscant's moons which had been outright given to the reformed Jedi Order). On his best days he can say he is friends with Fox(helped by Vos’s clear affection for the man), he can accept the affection of the clones (he almost never has an issue with the 212th because they only tried to kill him, and Obi Wan had terrifyingly little issue with people trying to kill him. He tries so hard with the members of the 501st that marched on the Temple, but their signatures in the Force were embedded in the temple of his memories), and even occasionally leave the home that Cody had built (What had been a top level senatorial apartment) for them while he and Padme had been hiding. On his worst days he can’t even leave the mini greenhouse that Cody had created in one of the rooms. They do not tell him about the chips, or how the chips are still in. The fiction that Anakin did not march on the temple, that someone else was wearing his face, is maintained with a vicious force by everyone who interacts with Obi Wan regularly (Anakin is still half Vader when not in Obi Wan’s presence and is very specific about that point).

At some point after Padme and Obi Wan have been found, Rex comes out of the woodwork. Ahsoka is held behind in case something goes wrong. He and Ahsoka have been members of the Rebellion since its inception (Even with Fox in charge, this really isn’t a fix-it and his Empire is only somewhat better than Palpatines. The biggest change is who is being oppressed and how). Rex manages to get an audience with Cody (Who is head of the Imperial Forces, and longtime brother in law to Lord Vader), and tells him desperately about the chip. He is flabbergasted when all Cody says is “I know”. Rex protests the slave chip, Which Cody fully admits is still in his head. Cody scoffs, “I Ordered Obi Wan shot. If the chip comes out I have to face that. Do you think the 501st should have to live with what they did in the temple? That Bly should have to relive shooting Aayla Secura for the rest of his life.” Rex argues further, reeling and feeling betrayed. Cody says “The Vode know about the chips, have for years. Any Vod who wanted to get the chips removed, are very much able to. Few signed up after a squad from the 104th ate their blasters after waking up from their surgeries.”

Rex eventually leaves. His mission had been to seek out the people he remembered, people he had loved, and feel out if they were open to being recruited for the Rebellion. They can’t. He is not allowed to interact with Obi Wan at all. Padme had decided, in the Med Bay of the Resolute, that she would accept her husband unconditionally. She mourned the Republic and the Freedom it implied, but has rationalized that the Republic she loved never really existed (She is also carefully shielded from the worst offenses). Cody has bought into the Empire, whole heartedly (there are some consequences to years of having the chip in his head identify Anakin Skywlaker and Emperor Fox as the highest authority), and with him goes 99% of the Vode. Anakin, well it would hurt less if he was unrecognizable. But this is an Anakin that never lost his wife, who got everything that he ever wanted and still faces few consequences for his decisions (his only true binding the vow never to hurt the Vode) and Fox, as Emperor was never really an option (Rex had hoped for a moment that Fox was just as much a puppet as Cody only for that to be dashed when he was told the Fox had no chip any longer).

He leaves behind the memories of the people they were and reports that the only one he could not get a confirmation for was Obi Wan Kenobi. The Vode in particular watched him leave, it was always hard to watch your brother from the other side of a battlefield. They didn’t begrudge him his new loyalties, could tell that he didn’t betray them even as he fought against them. It looked so lonely and they hoped he would come to his senses soon.

There was only one attempt made, after Rex left, to recruit Obi Wan into the Rebellion. Bail Organa reluctantly helps a few younger members of the Rebellion ambush Obi Wan. It had been a good day, Obi Wan was out at an open air market with a few members of the 212th on leave. Though the Clones had been free now for longer than the war had lasted, the one he was with had a seemingly never ending delight for such colorful, unique places and Obi Wan delighted in seeing that happiness. Three well placed distractions were what it took to separate Obi Wan from his honor guard long enough for a Rodian, a Zabrak, and a Human to corner him. Their pitch, unfortunately emphasizing his duty to help the Galaxy by fighting the empire, managed to hit every trigger he had in the space of thirty seconds.

The resulting force-fueled panic attack cracked buildings, transparisteel, and walkways for eight blocks and 16 levels in either direction. It was also captured in entirety (Pitch included) and streamed live across the galaxy. It takes a bit of time to get Obi Wan calmed down so that his men can get him back home, and by that time the damage was done. To the Rebellion. It’s one thing to want to fight tyranny, it’s another to watch the organization that is supposed to do that badger one man into a panic attack insisting that he has to fight the Empire.

It is this footage that changes Rex’s mind and brings him and Ahsoka home.

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evilasiangenius · 1 year

Text

4004 B.C. (Sometime After the Beginning)

It was familiar to move closer to another beneath the protective shade of a wing, but it was unusual to look up and see the pure whiteness of the feathers that had an almost translucent quality in the cloud-smudged sunlight.

A strange upwelling of emotion passed through Crawley, and the demon put thin arms around shivering shoulders, black wings folded tightly, remembering that those sheltering wings had been white once too.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” Crawley muttered, straightening up. embarrassed that the angel had noticed. “Totally fine, absolutely fantastic. Just...never seen water falling from the sky. Cinders and fire, sure. But water? That’s new and exciting.”

“Cinders and fire. That seems awful,” Aziraphale said, his voice full of concern.

“Eh, it’s just what it is. Erm, Downstairs. So. Er. Ahem. I didn’t...didn’t know it could fall from the sky. Water, that is.”

“This new creation is full of surprises,” Aziraphale agreed. “After all with water I had always assumed that it stayed on the ground, as in rivers. Or cycles through living beings as it does with the humans and the plants and the animals.” Aziraphale shifted the arc of his wing as the wind shifted, tilting feathers so that the rain that now blew sideways did not touch Crowley.

“But aren’t you getting wet, Angel?”

“It’s Aziraphale. And no, the water doesn’t touch me,” Aziraphale smiled. “An attribute of the Heavenly influence, I suppose.”

“Must be nice.” Crawley glanced down where white feathers didn’t quite shield the demon from the rain. The long trailing hem of the black robes hung strangely and Crawley made a face when the wet, soggy edge slapped against a bare leg.

“It is. Quite nice, actually.” The angel’s smile was beatific, and even through the storm that arced lightning across the sky, the pale curly locks stayed dry and then Crawley caught a glimpse of the angel’s eyes.

Dark, the color of storm clouds – no, of rich damp earth, the kind that could be found throughout Eden but especially besides the great rivers, soft and yielding, mysterious and full of the potential for life even as cool clear water flowed beside it, lapping at its banks unceasing and unthinking.

There was a faint tension in those eyes, a sadness and a politeness that made Crawley realize the angel’s smile was completely false.

“I should go,” Crawley said, but didn’t move. Lightning flashed blue-white bright and for a brief moment Crawley closed golden eyes, remembering the white-hot fall of cinders all about and the protective shade of jet black feathers that were so dark that it seemed no light could escape from them…

“Yes, I suppose I should as well,” Aziraphale said, but didn’t move. The angel glanced at the demon, a slouching slumped miserable thing just out of reach, huddled in the shelter that only an angel’s wing could provide. Pitiful, Aziraphale thought, merely an ordinary low-ranked demon and one not even properly armed against a Cherubim; no flaming sword, not even some additional powers to gain an advantage. “But oh look, is it just me or is there something about the ground that is changing because of the water?”

“...eh, I don’t know.” Crawley peered over the great wall of Eden.

“Erm, does it look a bit like the ground is not quite the same color it was before?”

“Well, sure,” Crawley said. “Obviously the soil changes color when you get it wet. Just like clothes.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been wet.” But upon noticing the demon’s expression change, Aziraphale quickly spoke, “...but it does sound intriguing, this state of wetness. Please, do tell me more about it?”

Crawley glanced over at the angel, curious, and then realizing that this was all to spin out the conversation longer so that they didn’t have to immediately go their separate ways. Looking at the shifting wind that blew the rain here and there, the demon scowled but there was no actual annoyance in that scowl so much as it was the scowl of thinking.

“Erm, well? Well! It’s uh, er. Wet? You know how...if you see blades of grass that in the early morning are damp with dew, and the little clear water droplets cling to the green but then the green leaves get all stuck together sometimes? Well, when things like this are wet...” – and here, Crawley touched the hem of a long black sleeve – “they stick unpleasantly to skin in a temperature unbalancing way. It doesn’t bother me too much but I can tell that my skin doesn’t like sudden sharp temperature changes. And-”

The wind picked up and with it, the rain, which was now blowing in from at least two directions, and without thinking, Aziraphale closed both wings around them, cocooning them in a veil of white.

Crawley gasped, and backed up until trembling black feathers bumped into the angel’s feathers.

“What are you doing?!” the demon hissed.

“Just shielding us from the rain. If you don’t like it-” And Aziraphale quickly parted his wings a bit. At the immediate sight of an opening toward the outside world, the demon slipped out from the curtain of feathers and in a flash of black feathers, flew off, disappearing into the dark shaded trees of Eden.

“...oh. I suppose he didn’t like it,” Aziraphale mused, feeling strangely disappointed.

#crowley #aziraphale #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #mistakes were made

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thunderstroked · 2 months

Text

Poof! Zap!

TIMING: early december. LOCATION: emerald oasis. PARTIES: @gossipsnake & @thunderstroked SUMMARY: anita gives mona a fright and she retaliates, but quickly backs down. CONTENT: none!

The fox ran as fast as she could, slipping beneath flora and underbrush, eager to escape the shutter of the camera behind her. She wasn’t sure why she bothered trapezing the woods, even off the normalized path. All humans were the same– they wanted to see things they didn’t deserve. She could hear their weighted footsteps behind her, eager to follow the abnormal fox to her hiding place. Unlucky for them, she had no intention of leading them anywhere close to something of actual importance. The fox rounded the small clearing, dipping below the brush. Chest heaving, she sent a ball of fox fire from her tail, sending it directly towards the individual with the rather large camera hanging around his neck.

His eyes glazed over and he began to focus on the ball of blue fire in front of his face. At first, she was mildly worried he might reach out and try to touch it, but instead he diligently followed it in the opposite direction. Grateful for the distraction, the fox crept from underneath her hiding place and slipped out of the clearing, towards the emerald oasis where she could at least catch her breath for a bit. She gained nothing from being there; had heard the stories and its history, but knew that she would not be able to draw any actual energy from it. That wasn’t really her schtick, and it wasn’t something she wanted to do. If there were spirits, long forgotten, however, she would find them. What she hadn’t anticipated was a snake-like woman. She froze in her tracks, eyes glinting amber in the stream of light that pooled at the base of the cove.

___

The oasis beneath Gatlin Fields had become a favorite spot of the lamia as soon as she had discovered it. She didn’t even really care about its supposedly magical properties, Anita just loved having a place that she could go during any season and simply sit and be in her lamia form. It was dangerous for her to stay scaley for too long once the temperatures began to drop. But in the Emerald Oasis? In there she could swim in warm waters and lay beneath tropical plants for hours.

Those who knew about the spot were mostly used to supernatural things. Many of the farmers who came to drop withering crops off needed the magic of the oasis too much to question the presence of strange creatures within it. That day, however, it seemed that Anita wasn’t the only creature around. Both the coloring of the fox-like creature and the presence of a second tail drew Anita’s attention as she saw it move towards the cove. Curiosity called her to move closer to the other being, and it didn’t take long until they were face to face.

“I come in peace,” the lamia said in her best alien impression. “Ahh, sorry no, I don’t actually talk like that. Could you imagine? Gross” she said, switching to her real voice. She knew enough about other shifters to suspect this might be a kitsune, but she was also not disillusioned enough to think she knew every species of creature out there, and the coloring of the creature was not like something she had seen before.

___

The woman spoke and the fox found her fur standing on end. This town was full of things she’d never encountered, and while she didn’t know what the person in front of her was, there was something beautiful about her, but in the same breath, haunting. She couldn’t put her finger on it– or in this case, paw. A wheeze left the fox, both in response to the snake-woman’s joke, and her own, despite the fact that the woman could not understand why she would have that reaction to begin with.

The woman was eyeing her and the fox found discomfort in the attention. She glanced around, immediately looking for a possible way out of this situation, but wondered if she’d make it very far. She couldn’t remember the name of what the woman was, but knew to be wary. The only way to communicate would be to shift, but what would happen if she did that?

Without thinking, an orb of fire shot from her tail, trailing to where the woman stood, catching the base of her tail. The smell made the fox winced and she stumbled backwards, hackles rising.

_____

Anita couldn’t get a good sense as to what the other being was thinking. If it was responding to her attempts at conversation it was lost on her. Could it not talk? Anita did know that not all shifters could speak in their alternate form which seemed like such a pity. It could also be, of course, that this was an entirely different creature altogether. Either way, Anita was quite captivated. She loved seeing the differing beauty in the world around her, and this was a beauty she had never encountered before.

“Do you live down here?” It seemed unlikely that it lived in the oasis without Anita having seen it before, but life was full of unpredictable possibilities. Instead of there being any response, though, Anita was met with a blazing orb. As she watched it travel the distance between the two she felt mesmerized. That feeling faded rather quickly when it hit the end of her tail, the impact causing an involuntary rattle right before the lamia let out a cry at the intensity of the fiery pain.

“Oh my god! I was being so nice! What the fuck…” with a quick movement, Anita slithered away from the fox and stuck her burning scales into the stream of water nearby. When she looked back over towards the creature, its hair was raised. She hadn’t intended to get into any altercations today, but Anita was not the kind to not fight back against a threat. After a deep breath, Anita removed her tail from the water and pulled the rest of her body down towards the ground, letting the tall plantlife provide her cover.

_______

I was being so nice!

That was true. The fox’s survival instincts had reared their ugly head– a means to cause distraction, or at the very least cause a catastrophe out of something that could have been dealt with with civility, whatever that looked like between a gumiho and a snake-woman. She hated that the name was escaping her, but it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know everything under the shifter umbrella by what it was called! She was a gumiho, for fuck’s sake.

Her sister’s voice sounded in her head, if you would just stop and listen!

The snake-woman was retreating towards the pool of water, tail dipped in for some kind of relief. If she could speak the way she was now, she would apologize, but the thought left her as soon as the woman disappeared beneath the plant life. The fox had no intention of setting this place ablaze– it seemed too important for something so silly, especially because the woman had been nice to her to begin with, but the threat of inaction was like a loud siren in her head, warning bells ringing, telling her if she didn’t do something, she’d end up as a meal. Call it prey mentality, or whatever.

The fox looked around, desperate to see if she could spot the creature slithering through the plant life that was stretched across the floor of the cavern. Now would be the time to shift back and explain herself if she wanted to live, she realized.

In a puff of smoke, Mona replaced the fox and she held out her hands, turning in a small circle as she wasn’t sure where the woman would come from next. An orb of foxfire lit her palm and she held it steady. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re a snake, I’m a fox– it’s circle of life, yeah? Always in my head, always gotta be afraid of the bigger thing. I didn’t mean to.”

Even as she laid there, a literal snake in the grass, Anita was a bit torn on how to deal with the creature who had just seriously scorched her scales. Sure, she regularly killed people for far less but she also thought the creature was quite interesting. She’d never seen anything like it before and it seemed like a waste to just eat it so quickly. Not staying in one spot for long, she moved through the tropical cover while keeping her attention on the fox.

Her scales weren’t meant for this kind of environment though and the green she sported was not as camouflage as it would have been in the Mojave. Instead of running away, however, the fox stood its ground. Maybe it had understood what she had said even though they had not responded. Before Anita could speculate any longer, and almost as though it was a cheesy magic trick, the fox disappeared and a woman appeared. A rather beautiful one at that.

In response to the reveal, the lamia moved her head above the line of foliage so she could be seen. “You’re a shifter,” she said matter-of-factly. “You know, normally foxes are considered bigger than snakes,” that was obviously not the case in their situation though. There was still a pang of caution that rang through her head, but Anita decided to make a similar gesture of good faith. “Give me a second,” she said, moving to grab a pack she left nearby with a large oversized t-shirt and shorts.

As she pulled them out of the bag, Anita allowed herself to transform into her human form. Unlike the fox, her transformation did not come with clothes included.

The woman spoke and Mona felt relief flood through her. She wasn’t sure if being a shifter would be enough for this woman to not make a snack out of her, but she hoped so. Then again, she’d been the one to shoot first, technically speaking. “A gumiho, yes.” Mona’s fingers flexed at her sides, deep brown eyes unmoving from the scales that were now singed. She felt bad, and she would definitely apologize.

At her comment, the gumiho let out a laugh of her own. “You know, that’s usually how it is, right? Still not fond of getting in a toe to toe match, though. Can’t do much about venom.” She wasn’t sure if Maine had any poisonous snakes, but she wasn’t going to take her chances, especially after being faced with something like this. Who knew what else was lingering in the shadows of Wicked’s Rest?

The woman slithered, quite comically, to a pack left to to the side of where she was standing. She hadn’t ever seen anything like it, the way he scales receded, the way the body morphed into something else, into something more human. She didn’t know a lot about lamia, but she knew that they were not a natural born thing. Still, it shouldn’t matter to her. Mona cleared her throat after a moment. “I’m sorry again, it’s a force of habit. I’m sure you can understand?” She tried to see if the singe of the woman’s tail had translated to her legs. “Do you– I can pay for your doctor’s visit, if you want.”

“Gumiho,” Anita repeated, “I can’t say I’m familiar with that name. I’ve come across some fox shifters before… though not quite like you.” There was something that always sparked a bit of excitement in Anita when she came across something new, or more accurately, new to her. She liked to think that curiosity and excitement was part of what set her apart from humans. Instead of fearing something strange, something different or unknown, she always welcomed it. “Not all snakes have venom,” she countered with a shrug not addressing the fact that she certainly was a venomous snake.

After shifting into her less intimidating form, Anita quickly threw on the clothes she had from her bag before she slowly moved closer to the other woman again - hesitantly keeping a bit more distance between the two than she did when she had more natural protection. Especially since the burn stung substantially more across her ankles and calf than it did across her tail. “You get attacked a lot or just naturally skittish? Seems like one of the two, maybe a combination of both, would be the case if your habit is to attack first and ask questions later.” She let the comment sit for a second before clarifying her stance. “Not that I necessarily take issue with that approach. In the right circumstances.”

“That’s not necessary. Not gonna need a doctor.” Not that Anita would have taken the assistance even if she had needed one. “How do you do that?” Hands gesturing in a manner to mirror the puff of smoke that had appeared when the gumiho had transformed, “Appearing with your clothes on and everything, I mean. Hell of a lot more convenient than having to carry around a change of clothes almost all the time. Is that something innate in your species?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, because in my eyes, it is one.” She knew that her form wasn’t exactly what others had in mind when they thought of a kitsune. It all came down to the fact that she’d been electrocuted and she knew that, but sometimes, people thought to ask if she had dyed herself. Those were the people she didn’t mind leaving with a little more bristly static. Mona raised a brow. She hadn’t considered that not all snakes had venom, but if she were being honest, she didn’t know a lot about them to begin with. She wasn’t exactly a snake’s biggest fan, regardless if it was supernaturally inclined or not.

In place of that of which she’d been so afraid of was a quite normal looking woman– though, definitely beautiful. “Most of what I attack don’t have the means to introduce themselves, or defend themselves.” She was more of a runner than she was a fighter, but today proved the opposite. “You can’t blame me for being scared, can you? I don’t think that’s very fair.” It was fair, because the woman was the one with the burn on her leg.

“Well, if you change your mind…” Mona offered a small, but hesitant smile. She wasn’t sure what else to say here, but then the woman was asking her how she reappeared with her clothes and she let out a laugh. “That? That’s just how… I’m not really sure. I know that other shifters get the high of indecent exposure, but we– gumiho, we always just appear back with our clothes on.” She had asked at one point, but never got a straight answer. “I’m sure it’s in a book somewhere. One that I haven’t read.” She shrugged, as if it were simple. “I guess it has to do something with our shifting isn’t… necessarily animalistic? It’s more magic than anything.”

“It was a compliment,” Anita responded with a soft smile, not having even considered that being told you were unique could have come across as anything but a compliment. Even though she longed for more Lamia in town there was a sort of pride in being a unique being, different from most others around her. Even the other lamia she had come across in town weren’t Mojave like she was. She couldn’t help but wonder if this woman had been made to feel othered by her unique appearance.

“And what do you usually attack?” The statement was intriguing as was the one that followed. Most people who were quick to attack weren’t also quick to admit feeling scared. Humans must not be their preferred meal if they usually went for things that couldn’t speak or put up much of a fight. Small prey, that had to mean. “I would never fault someone for feeling fear upon coming across me. I would think anyone who didn’t feel that way was a fool. Like I said, I don’t really take issue with the attack first approach. Just don’t prefer to be the one being attacked, naturally.”

Anita was glad that the conversation was taking a more humorous turn, finding the sound of the gumiho’s laughter to be just as lovely as she was. “It’s not really a choice. Magic may have made me this way but there isn’t much else about it that is magical. I’d love to just reappear in my regular clothes, would save me so much money on tailoring and replacement clothes. Plus, sometimes it’s just too cold to have all your goodies out in the middle of the woods.” Anita, somewhat tentatively, took a few steps closer to the fellow shifter. “I find the differences in how people like us, people who shift, to be truly fascinating. When you say your shifting isn’t as animalistic… do you not feel connected to who you are in the natural form?” Despite all their similarities, those who shifted were certainly their own species, each with their own way of shifting and their own unique limitations.

“Well, I appreciate the compliment then.” Mona stood across from the woman, gaze trailing over the distance that the tail had once appeared over. It wasn’t easy to forget that there were others like her, just in different… instances. She felt as though she had the right to be afraid– giant snake versus small fox just didn’t pan out in the way that she figured would be beneficial to her plight. But the woman seemed more so intrigued than actually hungry, and for that, Mona was thankful.

“Squirrels.” She paused, frowning, “sometimes we do what we have to do.” She wasn’t the kind of being that’d fight for the sake of fighting, but she’d fight for survival if she had to. Mona figured she’d made that particularly clear, given their current situation. “I can’t say I don’t understand that. I feel like that’s perfectly acceptable, not wanting to be burned.” A part of her felt guilty, now that she was speaking to the woman she’d sent her foxfire towards. In the moment, she’d been so sure it was the right move. Now, she was curious as to whether or not it’d be held against her.

“I’ve heard of werewolves who use spandex. Maybe that’s a market you can enter.” She had no clue if that actually worked or not, but figured it might be better for somebody who had actual control over themselves. “Imagine a snake like yourself in a tutu.” She gestured vaguely towards the woman, “then again, it might not make people afraid of you.” Mona forced herself to relax, even as the woman approached her. She wasn’t going to be hurt, the brunette had already confirmed that. “I feel connected to it, it’s always a part of me, even right now, despite the lack of fur.” Mona crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s different for everyone, I guess. Some people find themselves… looking to be in tune with their abilities, rather than being a fox, itself.” There were dozens of legends of how kitsune had come to be, none of which ever felt right to her. “It’s innate, I suppose.”

The thought of this fox chasing squirrels around was rather amusing. Anita wondered if the sight of her chasing her own prey would be amusing to anyone. “Girl’s gotta eat,” she said with a slight shrug. Justifying having to eat live prey was never something Anita was interested in doing. Sure, there were a lot of things that Anita did that were violent but she did not often associate the pure act of sustaining herself as a violent one.

“Imagining it,” Anita said with a wide grin and a soft laugh. “Loving it. Gonna make it happen.” To her the image of a massive rattlesnake wearing a sensible yet stylish tutu was genuinely hilarious but she had a feeling that the average person wouldn’t be unafraid of her just because she had on some ruffles. “I know what you mean, about feeling connected.” These were the conversations she loved to have with fellow shifters, getting a sense of how they interacted with their duality. “I’m always the rattlesnake. It’s not just a connection, it’s who I am. Maybe it’s by virtue of being born like this, growing up intertwined, but this isn’t me,” she gestured generally at her human form. “That was.”

Even though they were protected by the underground caves of the oasis they were in, Anita could hear the sounds of someone not too far away. And while her afternoon lounge in the warmth of the inexplicable tropical oasis had been cut short by the arrival of the kitsune, the lamia did have places to be. “See you around, foxy lady,” she said with a smirk before grabbing her things and making her way around the other woman as she headed towards the surface. “Maybe one day we can exchange stories instead of scorch marks.”

#para: poof! zap!#para: anita #wickedswriting

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transprincecaspian · 1 year

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Jurian Amell

well I had @demandthedoodles and a few others peek this for me and I’ve decided to post it but you could consider it a continuation of this post about Trystan 😌 anyways here’s jurian amell pov

no warnings and features Fenris!

—————

The chill was pervasive in Hightown. It was worse than in the lower levels of the city, where packed bodies provided heat in passing and the busy markets usually had warm fires to gather around. It was made worse by the wet tendrils of hair that still curled around his cheeks. Jurian’s breath frosted in the air as he sighed; the moment that he heard the click of the door behind him, his easy smile fell away. His shoulders dropped, and he fished in the dark for the large rucksack he had tucked behind one of Leandra’s potted plants. Trystan’s cutting gaze had made it clear that—after only one night—he had already worn out his welcome.

He fished his cloak out of the pack before throwing it over his shoulder; the cloak was long and warm and stubbornly stitched, and it obfuscated his figure in the dark. Upper nobility or not, he was still in Kirkwall, and he knew well the leering eyes that followed him on the streets. It put him at ease knowing that they would have to look a little harder and come a little closer, and by that point they wouldn’t know what had hit them.

With another sigh, he turned to escape the looming heights of the Amell estate, only to stop short when he realized that someone was blocking his path. Blinking in the dark, Jurian’s heartbeat slowed once he recognized a familiar face.

“Fenris,” he said. “I thought that you’d left already.”

“I walked Isabela back to the Hanged Man,” Fenris answered, “but I was actually on my way to my own home when I saw you leaving. I thought that you said you were staying in Kirkwall for some time.”

Jurian glanced back at the home of his namesake—it wasn’t his family inside, not anymore. “I am,” he said. “You know how it is, though, right? Leandra is already a crowd with those two. Trystan and Anders are all over each other. I’d just be getting in their way.”

Fenris paused, and then tilted his head. His breath came softly, little wisps of frost in the air, illuminated by the moonlight. “You don’t have anywhere else to go.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m charming,” Jurian said, and he flashed Fenris a smile that others had purportedly put to song. He had never heard such poems, not in all of the years he’d heard rumors of them. “Someone will take pity on me and bring me home.”

Fenris didn’t return the smile. “You could come back to my mansion.”

Jurian stopped rubbing his arms beneath his cloak; he hadn’t realized how cold he’d grown, but Fenris’s offer was enough to stop him still. “I thought you didn’t like mages much,” he said, without thinking. He grimaced, but Fenris didn’t waver.

“I don’t,” he said, “but I like the thought of leaving you out on the streets even less. Besides, it would be much easier to keep an eye on a rogue mage under my own roof. It’s the least I can do for Hawke’s family.”

Jurian, sensing that he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, nodded to indicate that Fenris should lead the way. He scrambled for something to say to break the uneasy silence—something besides their footsteps. “It’s strange to hear all of you call him Hawke.”

“I think, for that reason, it is stranger to us to hear you call him Trystan.” Fenris paused for a moment. “In fact, I don’t think I had heard his first name before that first time that you came to visit. I had only known him as Hawke.”

“Maybe I should have you all start calling me Amell,” Jurian japed. He thought it would fall flat between them, but Fenris allowed for a small smile. “It doesn’t quite ring the same, does it? In any case, I… I should thank you. For giving me somewhere to stay for the night, I mean. I know your home and solitude is important to you.”

Fenris didn’t say anything, and for a few moments, Jurian was worried that he had overstepped—again. Of all of Trystan’s friends, Fenris had always been the hardest for him to parse out. Between his distaste for mages—quite justified—and his naturally reserved demeanor, Jurian had never known just where he stood with him. In fact, there was a small part of him that still expected Fenris to tell him to sod off and find somewhere else to sleep.

Not that it would be an unusual expectation, really. Trystan had practically said as much, even if it was with his body language alone. Jurian knew well when he wasn’t wanted, and the last thing he wanted to do was test his luck with his remaining, living kin. ‘Kin’ was the word for it–not family. It might be his name over the door, but he wasn’t welcome right now.

“It is,” Fenris finally said. “But the mansion is large. I wouldn’t have offered it if I thought that your presence would be pervasive in any way.”

To that, Jurian nodded. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as they made their way through the streets of Hightown; the path to the mansion from the Amell estate brought them through twisting alleys and across the path of the Chantry, but no Templars stopped them, to which Jurian could have breathed a sigh of relief. He was so focused on staring at his boots and praying to Andraste that no one would call out to them that he almost didn’t hear Fenris speak up again.

“How long are you going to be in Kirkwall?” He asked, and Jurian looked up just in time to stop himself from walking right into his back. Fenris, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy searching for what Jurian assumed was a hidden key.

“I don’t know,” Jurian admitted, raising his head up to admire the facade of the mansion, where the black stone was built into the walls of the city. “It’s hard to say, if I’m being honest. I… I’m looking for someone, you see.”

Fenris looked back at him, key in hand, with a brow raised and waiting for the rest of the sentence. Jurian blinks under the intensity of his gaze, but quickly draws himself up—composure included. In his boots, he’s taller than the elf, but he imagined that without them they’d be around the same height.

“Well, I’m sure you know that when mages—well, you might not know– might not care– that’s besides the point,” Jurian sighed. “When my mother found out her firstborn child had magic, well… It was devastating for the Amells. For her, I should say. I was taken away and sent to the Circles in Ferelden, and so were my siblings later on. Split up. I don’t know much about them other than their names. And my mother, I…”

The words were coming too fast for him to stop them, now. He felt guilty for dragging Fenris into his business, but he needed to tell someone why he was here. Trystan had proven that he didn’t care. “Well, she went missing. Nobody knows where, and my father is dead now. I thought that… coming back here, trying to pick up the pieces where they were first broken, maybe I could find her. Or some sign of what happened to her.”

When he finally looked up at Fenris again, he had turned away to open the door. Gutted, Jurian followed him in through the open doorway with his head held low. He had been asked for a simple answer, not his life story, and he knew well by now that he wasn’t really wanted anywhere in Kirkwall—he wasn’t really wanted anywhere, except maybe by the Templars, strung up in the Gallows and made an example of.

He had only taken a few steps into the mansion, balancing on broken tile and maneuvering by the moonlight filtered through the windows, when Fenris finally turned around to face him again. “Stay until you find her.”

Jurian blinked, and his voice escaped softer than he would have liked. “What?”

Fenris shuffled, turned aside but looking halfway over his shoulder as if Jurian could be the one to suddenly bite. “Until you find your mother,” he clarified, as if that were the part that was causing confusion. “It wouldn’t be right to let you scrounge for somewhere to sleep every night. Kirkwall isn’t like Denerim. You don’t know who you can trust here.”

But you’re saying I can trust you, Jurian thought, but he didn’t say it. “Thank you–”

“My room is up there,” Fenris interrupted, gesturing to a room on the far side of the foyer, up a flight of twin stairs. He then pointed towards a hall to the right. “There are more rooms down there, though, and a kitchen. You are welcome to any bed that appeals to you.”

The silence between them was deafening again, and the chill was beginning to creep up his back once more. When Fenris went to close the front door, Jurian took that as his cue to take his rucksack and make for one of the rooms down the hall—insisting on gratitude, at least for now, might strain whatever goodwill Fenris had chosen to bestow upon him.

He chose the last one, at the very far end. It wasn't that this room was more appealing than any other—it was smaller, and darker, and in relative disarray—save for one thing. The window, framed by tattered silk drapes, opened up to a view of the Waking Sea. The waves were gently tossing and glittering in the moonlight, and if he strained, he could almost make out the crash of foam against the rocks. His bag abandoned on the bed, Jurian was able to sit there, arms crossed on the windowsill, and bask in that sight alone.

The mansion was large and strangely empty—yet he already felt less lonely here than any night spent amongst those who were supposed to be his blood.

FIN

#Cas writes #dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #jurian amell #fenris dragon age #jurian meta #Cas meta #please tell me ur thoughts btw #I am #open to feedback

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beware-thegemini · 9 months

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~~life ramblings below~~

I’ve never done one of these before, but I wanted to ramble now that my life’s become something new (again) and writing these moments down always makes them seem more real.

I finally cleaned the last tenant’s crap off my fire escape this morning and I now have three new terra-cotta planters courtesy of our leasing office who let the old tenant leave soooo much stuff in the apartment. I will say, the free TV was great. But removing some of the literal trash has been a hassle (4th floor walk-up yay!).

I’ve never had a fire escape before. I’ve also never lived in a city before.

So, with the fire escape full of the images of plants I want to plant, and the dishes clean, I walked around my apartment this morning feeling like myself again, while also feeling like I’ve begun something entirely new.

One month ago I moved for the second time this year, completing the second leg of a cross-country drive. I get to live on the East Coast again, a train-ride away from both my family and my husband’s. This is of course, amazing. But I’m also still recovering from the places I’ve left behind, the friends I made by chance, and the lives I painstakingly created for myself. I’ve moved a lot in the past five years. But this past move really shook me up. I’ve never been at a point where I simply needed to go home and play video games and cut flowers and hug my mom, because life lost all meaning and anchor all at once. But it did. And so now I feel like I’m finally stepping out of a multi-week haze, no longer in emergency self-preservation mode, but in an actually living and thriving mode again. And, considering that the past four months were a sort of in-between completely anticipating this move, maybe I've been in a haze for longer than I've thought.

Most excitedly, I’ve just begun an MA in English. It’s exciting to be back in school, having a schedule again and places to be. My classes seem interesting and I have plenty of opportunities to continue all the research I’m interested in. I’m starting a new job as well. But of course the downside of starting over is making friends again, and finding what grocery stores are close so I don’t have to walk a mile uphill to buy food, and figuring out just how the absolute hell my university’s printing works (spoiler alert: not well). There’s something tantalizing about being so much closer to friends and family but still too far for frequent visiting. And, come mid-September, my job commitments will prevent me from traveling over any weekend until after Christmas. In some ways I still feel like I live too far away from everyone I know.

But the good news is, between classes and work this semester, I should still have plenty of time to write fanfiction. Yes, this was only the first full week of classes and it isn’t an accurate prediction, but it’s a start. I so overloaded my schedule with classes and activities and jobs in undergrad that I barely had time to function. I remembering nearly crying the first time I left campus after fall break as a freshman—going to Walmart to pick up medicine—because simply being off campus was the most beautiful thing ever. Thankfully I have more of a life now. But still, I can’t help but think I’m an eighteen-year-old again, starting college for the first time. Back then, I lived on the fourth floor of a dorm that was also a walk-up. The post cards that used to decorate my wall are now on the fridge.

So, now that life is beginning again, I’m excited to get back to things. Maybe I’ll actually post on tumblr somewhat regularly. Maybe I’ll have time to actually read other people’s fanfictions again and leave comments. Maybe I’ll actually work on some fics I’ve been putting off for years. Maybe I'll keep a diary again.

Maybe I’ll plant some greens in my new planters.

#life ramblings #Gemini rambles

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dreamwritesimagines · 8 months

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Garden of Secrets 38 - Sneak Peek

“For the day!” you added quickly and grabbed your corset off the floor. “I’m leaving for the day.”

“Why?”

“Benedict,” you said and motioned between you. “Perhaps it has escaped your notice but we have a problem.”

He tilted his head, confusion etched in his features. “A problem?” he repeated. “What problem?”

You tried to concentrate but it was rather hard when that fire was swirling in your lower stomach, the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to climb back in the bed and—

You cleared your throat, looking up at the ceiling, causing Benedict to look up as well.

“What’s happening?”

“If I look at you I will get back in the bed."

“How is that a bad thing?” he asked with a grin and you shot him a glance, then looked up at the ceiling again.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed it before but we have a lovely ceiling-”

“My love, what are you talking about?”

You felt a smile warm your face, then grabbed your dress off the floor as well before turning to him, heaving a sigh.

“First of all, you were right about it being…divine,” you said, then narrowed your eyes. “Wipe that smile off your face.”

He held up his hands, gesturing surrender and you put your clothes on the sofa.

“That being said, do you not think we’re being a bit…fixated?”

“Fixated?”

“When was the last time you painted?”

“A week ago.”

“When was the last time you and I actually communicated with another person more than an hour without rushing to the nearest room?”

“There was the gala—”

“Gordon’s guest room.”

He hissed in a breath. “Right. Good point.”

“And I have a greenhouse,” you told him, putting your hands on your hips. “Ask me when the last time I’ve been there was.”

“…A week ago?”

“A week ago!”

“I mean Mr. Binsted is taking care of—”

Even you could hear the petulant tone in your voice; “It doesn’t matter, it’s my greenhouse!”

“Darling it’s not like it’s going anywhere—”

“Listen,” you cut him off. “I have a greenhouse with very rare plants. And flowers.”

“Mm hm.”

“Not to mention, I have the rarest flower in the world, in the aforementioned greenhouse.”

“I heard a thing or two about that, yeah.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re the love of my life,” you said as a smile curled his lips, that softness apparent in his gaze again while you pointed at the window, stomping on your foot. “But Benedict, my greenhouse!”

#benedict bridgerton x reader

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ericleo108 · 17 days

Text

Westside Connection

05/03/2024 Click here for Spotify, Apple Music, or Youtube. “Westside Connection” is my 76th official release and my 116th track published. This 6-track EP features Kokane from the Alcoholics, Tash from the dirty ogs, Xzibit, and Kxng Crooked. This is intellectual music with a hardcore vibe and a west coast sound that pays homage to west coasts legends like Dr. Dre along with conscious bars along side of some of the regions top mcees. It’s more than an album, it a connection, and it not just any connection, it’s a westside connection. The beats and features are all from Anno Domini. The entire project was produced by Keyano and the cover art is by Gigzlogo from Fiverr.

I talk about this blog post and other updates in the latest Sunday update here:

youtube

I actually really like “Symphonies.” I took the liberty of explaining why I haven’t made it yet in “hot fire.” I assume the position of and alcoholic and I show you whats important at the end.

Project overgrowth was a domestic civilian disobedience campaign that got started in chat rooms in the 1990s. The government had outlawed marijuana to such a degree that even having it on your land could land you in prison for decades. The problem and advantage is the plant is everywhere, and grows like a weed. So the project was to tell people to take marijuana seeds and plant them everywhere, especially in public parks until there is an overgrowth.

I did a word of the day rhyme for months. I wanna say 7 months, without looking. It doesn’t create enough attention and I don’t have the money or willpower to really make it have that wow factor. I want it to be fun and if I have to worry about all the technical aspects its not fun. Anyways, it’s my aspiration to achieve and like I said in my top 10 that I publish ever year on the blog, to work with Dr. Dre is the ultimate dream.

Lyrics

Afterlife

(Xzibit’s verse)

Forever ever we rock the mic

Even when we’re dead the real will Rise

Like that zombie shit

That Jesus did

My music resurrects the feelin given

That self-determination

And inventive creation

Derivation

And attitude that’s audacious

X and I are legends

Next level like the episode

On the metronome

We flex on um, impeccable

The way we rhyme, it’s on a pedestal

These pussies are, delectable

My rise to the top is inevitable

Cuz I’m the shit, colorectal flow

From west coast to midwest

We have the most fun

They flex, but we test

And show them up

When you see me playa, just roll up a blunt

And we can reminisce about all songs we’ve done

Show you, how i did it all for the love

And bring this energy to the industry and build up my buzz

So there’s one thing that I seek

I need you listening to my symphonies

What you know about a fan base

Or all the hate you can take

Or all the waves you can break

When you surfing the music sample bank

It’s my destiny, to rock these beats

I be standing on my own two bringing that heat

That fire, to light the blunt

I’m looking at Xzibit like pass the Dutch

Alcohol and bud, I’m just tryna amass a buzz

They dissuade and front, while I rage and stunt

We fresh bud, you distillate carts

Been real from the start, and an ace, word to cards

This shit hear not for the faint of heart

Soon I’ll be meticulously arhythmically climbing the charts

What goes up, must come down

Unless you escape Earth’s gravity and your outer space-bound

Shh, you won’t hear a sound

As I transcend and descend on you and come for the crown

From west coast to midwest

We have the most fun

They flex, but we test

And show them up

When you see me playa Just roll up a blunt

And we can reminisce about all songs I have done

Show you that I do it for the love

And bring this energy to the industry and build up my buzz

So there’s just one thing that I seek

I need you listening to my symphonies

Hot Fire

I was putting in work

While you were getting worked on

I’m a hundred percent independent dawg

I own my own masters and control my songs

They trust in me because my word is bond

Bang this in the east

Bang this in the west

Turn up the base and make it sweat

Hot fire, on the deck

I bring the heat, til she wet and vexed

I ain’t in a gang but damn I bang

These lyrics are a verbal assault that I slang

You should be offended by what I have to say

They like my evil, sinister accolades

Sit and Stu in your hate, cuz I do what you can’t

I’m here to piss the world off and take some names

Of these wack Mcees that think they’re great

Cuz they can’t compare to what I’ve made

I was putting in work

While you were getting worked on

I’m a hundred percent independent dawg

I own my own masters and control my songs

They trust in me because my word is bond

Bang this in the east

Bang this in the west

Turn up the base and make it sweat

Hot fire, on the deck

I bring the heat, til she wet and vexed

I been grinding for years, without reward

I’ve made less and spent more than that job of yours

Tryna build an audience to go on tour

But the algorithm not interested in promoting my store

Success in the industry is more about

Who you know, not the songs you put out

How much you have to invest Is basically clout

Cuz you can pay for the promotion that plays you loud

In hip-hop, hard work doesn’t pay off

Unless you have an audience and can rock a crowd

If you don’t agree then tell me how

When the room is empty that plays your sound

But This flow so retro like you got it on your iPod

I wanna get that money like a reticulating python

Real real long, like pics from a Nikon

It’ll be forever Until I die like Rit or Dylon

I was putting in work

While you were getting worked on

I’m a hundred percent independent dawg

I own my own masters and control my songs

They trust in me because my word is bond

Bang this in the east

Bang this in the west

Turn up the base and make it sweat

Hot fire, on the deck

I bring the heat, til she wet and vexed

Happy Hour

(Hook)

We drinkin beers, takin shots

As you’re sippin suds, let your body rock

Weather in the cut, club or spot

Alcohol is what you got

This really isn’t funny, I have problems

And make them go away by shooting vodka

My gaba receptors can’t handle the interruption

I’d probably have a seizure if i just drank nothing

So Imma lean back sippin

World Spinnin for my health

We need free healthcare

Before I can afford some help

I spend money on addiction

Not accumulating wealth

As long as a drink in my hand

The problem solves itself

At the bar playin the game “you call it”

At happy hour,

(Hook)

This the type of music, To tell you how to do it

Because Technically, alcohol is a solution

My therapist said I need healing

But I don’t like sharing

So I drink, till I can’t feel feelings

Tennessee and Kentucky like a country song

That’s Jack and Jim whiskey in my cup

Thought I found a girl to love, and have some fun

Turns out I can’t remember who she was

You’re not a bad person because you drink

We all got problems, I hope you see

It’s okay to fall apart, relapse, and binge

Tacos fall apart and we still love them

But Cirrhosis of the liver ain’t gon’ develop itself

It needs help, so call me

(Hook)

We drinkin beers taking shots

As your sippin suds, let your body rock

Weather in the cut, club or spot

Alcohol is what you got

This the type of music, To tell you how to do it

Because Technically, alcohol is a solution

Damn I’m thirsty, I hope they serve me

If not I’m asserting

Project Project Overgrowth

(Tash Verse)

Puff puff pass and blaze the weed up

From Michigan to Cali go and spread that seed stock

This is Protect Project overgrowth

Go ahead and help it grow

This sound like the dope you roll and smoke

Puff puff pass and blaze the weed up

From Michigan to Cali go and spread that seed stock

This is Protect Project overgrowth

Go ahead and help it grow

This sound like the dope you roll and smoke

Throw those seeds in ditches

Til the weed takes grip and then

Plant them in parks

Undercover at dark

On the side of the road

Or in a box in your home

They call it a weed, so plant it and let it grow

The plan is to overwhelm the government

With marijuana germaneness

Put in the work to get

An overgrowth of permanence

Blow her back out

Then she ask for it again like please

All my boys with the bud be like “sheesh”

I do it for the love, and that buzz, capeesh

To bad we can’t make THC outta yeast

Drink a drink that beer

I know you’re thirsty

Celebrate, go shawty, it’s your birthday

Drink a drink that beer

I know you’re thirsty

Celebrate, go shawty, it’s your birthday

God’s plant is calling you to get dirtay

What you need to do

Is plant weed for Earth Day

then

Puff puff pass and blaze the weed up

From Michigan to Cali go and spread that seed stock

This Protect Project overgrowth

Go ahead and help it grow

This sound like the dope you roll and smoke

Puff puff pass and blaze the weed up

From Michigan to Cali go and spread that seed stock

This Protect Project overgrowth

Go ahead and help it grow

This sound like the dope you roll and smoke

These cali girls got me pitchin a tent

At Cocella wishing I was playin a set

Ride down PCH lookin out west

And she’s like “I want you to stay and get wet”

Cuz I do it for my girls

That growing all the herb

Harvest every 10 days when I’m chilling with her

She always horney, and likes to be on top

Feeling trim, and like a lollipop

Break it break it down now

How they gonna find out?

Germinate and spread around

Seeds while in your local town

Then

Drink a drink that beer

I know your thirsty

Celebrate, go shawty, it’s your birthday

Drink a drink that beer

I know your thirsty

Celebrate, go shawty, it’s your birthday

God’s plant is calling you to get dirtay

What you need to do

Is plant weed for Earth Day

then

Puff puff pass and blaze the weed up

From Michigan to Cali go and spread that seed stock

This Protect Project overgrowth

Go ahead and help it grow

This sound like the dope you roll and smoke

Puff puff pass and blaze the weed up

From Michigan to Cali go and spread that seed stock

This Protect Project overgrowth

Go ahead and help it grow

This sound like the dope you roll and smoke

Aspiration

I’ve made my name, like Dr Dre

I’m a legend from the lane I’ve paved

Edutainment, what you learn today?

Aspiration is the word of the day

Aspiration is about what you aspire to be

A goal that you strive for and try to believe

Obstacles in the way of what you're trying to reach

Is how you dominate adversity and learn to achieve

Failure is natural,

Make up what they lack, envoke

If you don’t have the capital

Put in the work until it’s equitable

If you have hate in your heart, let it flow

Back into your home and shut the door

Don’t start nothing, it won’t be nothing

Unless it’s your hope

To spread some love at the show

I got that feeling and let ‘em know

Coming real, is the next episode

I’ve made my name, like dr Dre (still)

I’m a legend From The lane I’ve paved

Edutainment, what you learn today?

Aspiration is the word of the day

Aspiration is about what you aspire to be

A goal that you strive for and try to believe

Obstacles in the way of what you're trying to reach

Is how you dominate adversity and learn to achieve

I need a doctor because I forgot about Dre

But the physician said, it’s nothing but a G thing

What your seeking, is chronic and riesling

You gotta guilty conscious from the envy you’re feeling

No diggity, I got some California love

All the way from Michigan I’ve been telling them thugs

From the D to LBC is the simplest cuz

That’s the route of the next shipment of bud

So I roll another blunt and try to focus

On writing dope bars while I’m toke’n

Puffin the leaf often leaves me stolid

But Dre in my mind saying “make it explosive”

We gotta smoke that weed, some devils spinach

While tracking the lyrics on beat and rhythm

I’m telling you, look before you finish

Let me put some kush up in it

I’ve made my name, like dr Dre (still)

I’m a legend from the lane I’ve paved

Edutainment, what you learn today?

Aspiration is the word of the day

Aspiration is about what you aspire to be

A goal that you strive for and try to believe

Obstacles in the way of what you're trying to reach

Is how you dominate adversity and learn to achieve

What If

Yo what's happening, it's King Crooked

I dedicate this to all the rappers out there

That's better than the rapper that's on right now

I know it's hard, hold up

I know you wanna make it to the tip-top

But it's difficult to get it in Hip-hop

So you side hustle, bag it in the Zip-Loc

Cause you're too lyrical to go viral on TikTok

Under the radar every time your shit drops

Cause they listening to kidz bop

And you like 'Ah nah... Dog... Y'all really think that shit's hot?!'

How many spitters the top ten got pen drop

Silence of the Lambs there's too many sheep

While you reaching for your dreams there's too many asleep

But you in there deep so you gotta keep going through the pain and the failure

You gotta keep growing

Let me tell you what this shit is about

This rap biz is a math quiz, figure it out

Bigger the problem you solve, the bigger your house

Bigger the cheques and six figure amounts hit your account

If music is your real occupation

This ain't no rap homie this is a consultation

A business conversation about your operation

I see the spot you're chasing like Roc Nation

What if you never meet Jay

You never meet Em'

What of you never meet Dre

You never meet them

You better be ready

You're never overweight to take chances

Then your chances can never be slim

I want you to make it

I know I can make it, I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

I know I can make it, I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

I don’t need to be at the tip-top

Just wanna represent hip-hop

Banksy to my Basquiat

Be like exit through the gift shop

Wanna bump it loud

Make the OGs proud

Be like he bite me here

But made it his own sound

I wanna be like Tyrese

Represent and take the lead

Change what you see

By educating through reach

Work with platinum producers

Teach my audience cool shit

Find a new ways to grove to it

While we’re making the music

Of course I want to meet Dr. Dre

But I’d take Timberland or DJ Quik

I would be honored to lay a rift

See if you’re open, and have the bandwidth

I’ll serve Um up like a sandwich

Put on Jurmain Dupree as the deli meat

Pharelle as the cheese and spread upon the Mustard seed

Learn some alchemist, Classified, or the Rza

Got that Metro Boomin' Swizz Beats like J Dilla

I know I can make it, I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

I know I can make it, I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

It’s hard not to be dark

Damn Crooked brought the art

I think about it all the time

What if my dreams are never realized

What if I never meet Em, What if I never meet Tay

What if I never meet Mary and get carried away

What if I never meet Cary and try to marry her and stay

What if we don’t become us but face rejection all the way

What if I never find love

What if I never become the one

What if I stop putting up money

Cash my chips and say I’m done

But on the real homie, I’ve already made it

I don’t have to work but still can’t pay for it

This all me, I don’t get no help

Don’t have a label or a manager, hell

I don’t have the money, I’m going into debt

Cuz this an investment and it’s going to sell

But what if I never blow up

What is I can never afford a home

What if investing in this rap shit was what’s was really wrong

What if I never get the opportunity to get out on stage

What if they never get to see love your way

What if my meds fail and I find myself harboring

Malcontent for the ones that are starving

What if my cards are spent

And my chips are in

I’m called and fallen

Come up short and like Van Gogh

I paint it like Bawden

She gotta know I’m all in

I love her and the thought of it

But what if I never meet Charlotte

I know I can make it, I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

I know I can make it, I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

And I know I’ll make it, cuz I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

I know I can make it, I’ll build it up

Put in the work, but still hope for luck

In this philosophy of mine and I’ll tell you what

As long as the sun shines, Imma soak it up

All the what-ifs in the world can’t amount to the action you take

#rapper #hiphop #michigan #usa #music #hip hop #new music #Spotify #Youtube

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