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#in my foolishness I was like ''this probably shows up when the conversation is refreshed''
sergle · 5 months
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oh GOOD. OH GOOD!! I just found out that patreon, for me, eats messages sent in their actual messaging page, and sends them when they're sent in the little pop-up messaging client I get when I hit the message button on a patron's name. That's what I WANTED. I was desperate to go re-type all of these. thank god I get to do that.
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queen-haq · 2 months
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Fic: Never You (Penelope x Colin) - Part 2
Rating: R
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)
Spoilers: S3 scene released yesterday.
Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.
Excerpt:
“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”
“Of course you would think that.”
“What else is this if not punishment?”
Masterlist (contains links to Part 1 and my other stories)
Chapter 2
Penelope sipped her cup of lemonade, scanning the crowd in front of her. They were at Lady Hathaway’s ball, another social engagement in a series of endless ones, and she was bored. Whereas these events served a purpose in the past, now she was no longer in search of a husband or gossip. The gatherings weren’t all work however, there were many an evening when Eloise and she would die from laughter at others frivolity. And then there were the dances. Penelope loved to dance but she wasn’t very popular and not many gentlemen asked her to partner. Often Colin would be the only one. A part of her knew his invites were more for her benefit than his but she always assumed he enjoyed their moments together as well - but now that she knew how embarrassed he was to be seen with her, she cringed at those memories.
“Good evening, Pen. Enjoying yourself?”
She almost choked on the liquid at Colin’s unexpected appearance beside her. She thought he would avoid her company, hoped for it actually after their last conversation at the park, but there he was. Stubbornly she took another sip, refusing to speak to him.
“You look lovely tonight.”
She rolled her eyes.
“As pleasing as the new wardrobe is, I must admit it’s your hair that is most… intriguing.”
In her peripheral vision she saw his eyes roaming over her, and every nerve in her body tensed. It was difficult to breathe. For as long as she’d known him, she loved him. Being flushed and breathless around Colin was nothing new, but there was something different about the reaction he evoked in her now. There was no longer a soft, sweet warmth that enveloped her. Instead something dark and caustic surged through her, a swirl of tumultuous emotions that left her reeling with confusion when he watched her in the strange, new fashion that he had at the park and now. It probably had something to do with the anger she felt towards him but it wasn’t just that. She didn’t understand it, she didn’t like it, and she needed it to stop. 
“Oh, you’d like to know how I am?” Colin continued, unfazed by her silence. “Quite well, actually. London air has been surprisingly refreshing, although I’m still not fond of the rain.”
“I do not wish to discuss the weather with you, Mr. Bridgerton,” she replied stiffly, straightening her back while her eyes remained fixated on the flood of people circling the dance floor.
“Then what shall we discuss?” he mused. “Would you like to hear about the gifts I brought back for everyone? Or would you rather share more about your time in the country?”
“I would not.”
“Alright, let’s discuss your falling out with Eloise. My sister refuses to speak on it but maybe I can pry the truth from your lips.”
“You’d be foolish to try.”
“How about a dance then? Would you join me for a waltz?”
“No.”
“Fine. Quadrille it is.”
Irritated, she turned to find him smirking at her. Her heart pounded in her chest seeing the wicked glint in his eyes, the mischievous tilt of his lips as he deliberately goaded her. “You’re trying to provoke me.”
“Is it working?” he asked with a cheeky smile.
“I won’t be indulging your whims, Colin.”
He pouted at her. “How unfortunate.” Eyes glued to her face, he drank from his cup. “Shall I take a turn about the room, Pen? Perhaps I’ll run into Lady Portia and ask her if she’ll arrange a dance for the two of us.”
Pen quirked her eyebrow. “I certainly won’t stop you from dancing with Mama if that’s what your heart desires.”
Colin laughed heartily, and instantly Penelope noticed Lord Fife and some of the other gentlemen glancing at them. And they weren’t the only ones. Nearby were Eloise and Cressida Cowper, watching her with disdain. Feeling self-conscious at all the attention they were drawing, Penelope stilled. “I’ve asked you to leave me alone, Mr. Bridgerton.”
His sigh was heavy with resignation. “I see we’re back to unpleasantries.”
“I don’t understand why you’re here. Aren’t you worried about Lord Fife and his gaggle laughing at you?”
“I don’t give a damn about what he says.”
“That’s certainly not true.”
The easy smile on his face dissolved, replaced with an intensity that held her transfixed. Regret loomed over his features. “I am truly sorry, Pen. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I wish I could tell you there was a reason why I behaved so foolishly but I can’t. I was intoxicated, yes, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior.” He took a step closer, his hands tantalizingly close to her own gloved ones. “I will do anything to earn your forgiveness. Please. Just tell me what you need.”
They were in a ballroom crowded with people but all she saw was Colin standing in front of her, his eyes soft and pleading, voice trembling with emotion. Yes he hurt her, wounded her so deeply that she spent weeks in despair trying to understand how he could be so cruel, but seeing him so torn up made her recognize he was sincerely apologetic. If she was honest with herself about that fateful encounter, what devastated her the most wasn’t him putting her down in front of others, but the sinking realization that he never really could love her. And that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t fair to be angry at him for not reciprocating her feelings because love was not something that could be forced or demanded. And despite their newly fractured relationship, they were close friends once and she didn’t want him to continue suffering because of her. “I forgive you.”
Stunned, he stared at her. “You do?”
“Yes. We’ve both been unkind but it doesn’t serve any purpose to hold on to that pain.” She offered him a smile. “So you needn’t worry, Colin. Everything’s resolved between us.”
The cloud of worry departed from his face, his lips broke into a mischievous smile. “Does this mean I can have the next dance?”
She paused, her stomach twisting into coils. “Our friendship, Colin, it complicates things. It makes everything more difficult and…” Wringing her fingers together, she glanced down at her hands. “You’ll be traveling soon and I’ll be moving away from London once I’m married. We won’t see each other often and it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to exchange letters then. I wouldn’t want my husband or others to misconstrue things.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “It’s best if we end our friendship now.”
Before he could respond, they were interrupted by Eloise and Cressida.
“Colin, Penelope,” Eloise greeted them, her demeanor markedly cold as she turned to Pen. “Brother, I’m quite parched. Would you bring me some lemonade? Cressida will accompany you.”
“I would love to hear more about your travels,” Cressida cooed.
Jaw clenched, Colin kept his eyes centered on Penelope. “Pen and I are in the middle of a conversation.”
“Colin, be a gentleman!” Eloise chastised.
“It’s alright. We’re done speaking.” Penelope felt his keen stare upon her, he refused to budge, but it seemed to finally dawn on him that Eloise was not going anywhere. Reluctantly he walked away, with Cressida alongside him.
“Leave my brother alone.” Eloise’s words were saturated with heated rage. “Colin doesn’t know what you’re capable of, the damage you’ve caused to him and the rest of our family. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt by you.”
“Then you should tell him to keep his distance,” Penelope snapped back, and then regretted her tone instantly. “Eloise, I know you’re angry at me but you must know I would never deliberately cause Colin any harm.”
“You already have.” The pain in Eloise’s eyes was evident, causing a tidal wave of shame and guilt within Penelope. “Do you think he could ever forgive you if he knew the truth about who you are? He would hate you. We both know that.”
“Then maybe you should tell him.”
Eloise shook her head ‘no’. “I would never do that to my brother. He holds you in high esteem, the truth would break his heart. Like you broke mine.”
She stormed away, leaving Penelope staring after.
Her words weighed heavily on Pen’s mind, and she desperately needed air to compose herself. Her stride was quick as she made her way out of the ballroom, walking towards the large garden. There were some guests scattered around the grounds but as she went deep into the maze on the property, she found herself alone in a private corner behind the hedges.
For a long time she pondered Eloise’s words, the accusations echoing in her mind. As much as she’d tried to defend herself, Eloise was not interested in forgiving her. And deep down Penelope knew she didn’t deserve it. Her actions had hurt others, especially the Bridgertons, and even though she had only written about them to protect them, the end result was still the same.
Yet there was a part of her that didn’t regret her actions, because Colin was living the life he wanted and Eloise was no longer under suspicion.
Most of all, Lady Whistledown had given Penelope the kind of freedom she had never imagined. A voice to speak her mind and leave a mark in the small word she inhabited, and enough money to secure a healthy future. It was selfish of her but she didn’t care. She was Lady Whistledown and she was proud of it.
“You’ve been lying to me, Pen.”
She turned around immediately. Colin was only a few feet away, moonlight shining brightly upon him. He’d always towered over her, but standing there to his full height he looked regal and statuesque. While he’d never been a wallflower, there was something intrinsically shy about him from living in the shadows of his formidable father and brothers. He had indicated as much in his letters and in some of their private conversations. But the Colin from their recent encounters, the one staring at her now, appeared to be a different person. More confident, sure of himself. And it was reflected in his poise and gait as he sauntered closer. His thumb was pressed against the palm of his other hand, idly stroking his skin, as if in deep thought.
“You should not be here,” she replied. “If someone were to come upon us-”
“Your betrothed would not approve?”
“There would be a scandal!”
“Yes, of course.” There was wry amusement in his voice, his blue eyes twinkling. “I’ve been making discreet inquiries about your activities, amongst friends and others. I even approached Mrs. Varley and your mama earlier, and they both confirmed my suspicions.” He dipped his head to the side. “Albeit inadvertently.” Eyebrow quirked up, he sent her a teasing smile. “There’s not been any hint of a suitor, Pen. None at all.”
She peered at him, horrified.
“There is no engagement is there, Pen?” He came to a stop in front of her. “You lied to me. And I need to know why.”
Red hot anger coursed through her veins, she was so enraged that every sense of propriety and decorum left her brain. “You arrogant prick!” She charged at him. “How dare you?”
Before she could shove him away he gripped her hands, forcibly holding her tightly in his arms.
“Is it that difficult for you to imagine someone would want me? That there is a man out there who could love me and want to marry me? You find that so inconceivable, Colin?” Her breath grew ragged as she tried to break free from his grip. “Did it never occur to you-”
“You don’t get to end our friendship, Pen.” His eyes were dark and volatile, so deep that every moment she held his stare felt like sinking into the abyss. It was she who had lost her temper but now it was Colin who looked untethered, clinging to her. “You don’t get to walk away from us.”
Her heart beat thunderously in her chest, her stomach in knots as she realized she was trapped against him. There was no escape. He was occupying every inch of space, filling her senses with his scent, overwhelming her with his presence as his close proximity wreaked havoc with her insides.
“You are my friend.” Colin’s voice vibrated with raw, desperate urgency that shook her to the core. “My confidante.” Lips parted, his gaze trailed down to her mouth, down the length of her neck, settling on the highs of her breasts. No one had ever looked at her with such ferocity before, making her feel utterly exposed. “You’re…” His voice trailed off, like he couldn’t finish his thoughts; he was distracted, caught up in his world. Suddenly his hand was on her neck, the other wrapping around the back of her head. Frozen in his arms, she was simply too enthralled to move. His long lean fingers traced along her skin, searing through her heaving breasts, until his index finger hooked along the neckline of her dress.
It was such a simple thing, his finger tucked into the cleavage of her dress, but her body burned at his touch. She couldn’t take it any longer, unravelling in front of him as wetness gushed between her legs.
“Have you always been like this, Pen?”
She swallowed audibly. “Like what?”
His left hand loosened its hold on the back of her head, shifting so that his thumb now traced the contours of her lip. His gaze met hers, her body trembled. The complexity of emotions in his eyes was unsettling, she didn’t understand it at all. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he making her feel so completely vulnerable?
“So disagreeable,” he murmured, his soft breath humming against her skin.
And then just as she decided enough was enough and she needed to make her escape, his mouth closed over hers.
To be continued...
A/N - As always, feedback is loved and cherished, and encourages the muse to write faster :)
If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please drop me a note/comment.
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mushiewrites · 2 years
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YLYL: The Aftermath
Based on this prompt sent by the lovely @kasey-writes-stuff 💘
After Foolish saw how Punz reacted to Karl tickling Sapnap during the YLYL stream, he has something on his mind that he wants to confirm is true. Punz pretends he doesn't know what Foolish is talking about, so Foolish decides to show him.
(lee!Punz / ler!Foolish: 1.2K words)
"You totally cheated, and you know it."
Punz could hear Sapnap complaining to Karl and Quackity as they laughed next to him, continuing to wipe up the floor of all the water they had spit out during the YLYL stream. Punz chuckled and shook his head while he walked out of the streaming room and plopped himself on the couch in the living room next to Foolish, who was watching TV.
"So, that was a fun stream, right?" Foolish turned to Punz, giggling a bit when he thought back on the events that transpired during tonights stream. Punz smiled and nodded his head in return, pulling out his phone and opening twitter so he had something to do to pass the time. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until out of the corner of his eye, he saw Foolish looking at him with a smirk. Punz locked his phone and put it back into his pocket before turning slightly towards Foolish, giggling nervously.
“What?"
"Nothing!"
"You're staring at me, Noah."
"Well LUKE," Punz laughed as Foolish put emphasis on his name. "I was just thinking about how you disappeared once Karl started tickling Sapnap."
Punz could feel his face heating up, cursing himself for being so obvious. After freezing for a few seconds while his mind scrambled for any excuse he could think of, he settled on a scoff and a chuckle, refusing to meet Foolish's eyes with his own as he pulled his phone back out of his pocket to divert his attention.
"D-did I? I didn't even realize. I-I was out anyway so I just kind of sat back, it didn't mean anything." Punz tried to keep his voice even as he pretended like he wasn't completely flustered, blushing and stumbling over his words. He could practically feel Foolish vibrating as he move himself a little closer to Punz, their thighs basically touching.
"See, I would believe you more if it wasn't for the look of absolute horror on your face when you saw what was happening to Sapnap. Not to mention that your face was bright red before you practically ran out of the room." Punz could hear the mischief in his voice, looking up briefly to see that his smile was practically splitting his face in half with excitement.
“I didn’t look any type of way when Karl was….doing whatever he was doing to Sapnap! And my face was probably red from trying not to laugh or something, I don’t know, Foolish.” Punz tried hard to sound stern and uninterested, like he had no idea what Foolish was talking about.
In reality, Punz knew EXACTLY what Foolish was talking about. He couldn’t remember when it started, but there had been a point where the thought of being tickled absolutely flustered him, but being tickled? That was a whole other level of flustered. He wasn’t sensitive everywhere like Sapnap or Karl seemed to be, but on the right spot, Punz turned into an absolute puddle of giggles. Foolish began speaking again, pulling Punz out of his thoughts and back to reality.
“When Karl was doing what to Sapnap?”
“Foolish, you were there. Y-You know what he was doing.”
“Do I? Why don’t you refresh my memory? What was Karl doing to Sapnap that made him laugh so much?”
Punz was playing a losing game here - he was trying so hard to look and sound unbothered, but every second Foolish continued this conversation he was growing more nervous. There was NO WAY Foolish knew about what this did to him, right? There was absolutely no way that Foolish would attempt to-
“W-Wait wait fooOOOLISH NOHOHO!” Punz was ripped out of his inner monologue when Foolish latched onto his thigh, right above his knee, and proceeded to squeeze like his life depended on it. Punz couldn’t handle it. The only thing he could focus on was how much it tickled, and he couldn’t hold back the laughter he was so desperately trying to push back down his throat.
“F-FOOLISH ST-OHOHOP! DO-OHOHN’T!”
“Oh would you look at that? I finally have your full attention! Maybe now you’ll be able to focus on the questions I have for you.”
Before Punz could get a word out, Foolish started making his way up his thigh, squeezing towards the inner part that was most sensitive. Punz just about convulsed, letting out a howl before he collapsed in hysterical laughter. He was kicking his legs out, pulling at the hand making him squirm, but it was no use. Foolish had a grip that would not release.
“So anyway, as I was saying before, what was Karl doing to Sapnap, Punz?”
Punz would feel his face getting hotter than it already was (if possible), and he wasn’t in the position to make this continue any longer than it had to. He decided to give in, just to appease the boy next to him.
“H-HEHE WAS T-TICKLING HIM, NOW S-STOHOHOP PLEASE F-FOOLISH!”
"And it seems to me like you have a problem with saying that word. Do you have a problem saying the word 'tickle', Punz? Is it because it flusters you? Or because you're this ticklish?"
"OKAHAY OKAY! IT F-FLUSTERS MEHEHE, FOOLISH P-PLEASE!"
Foolish slowly released Punz's thigh back to him, laughing harder when Punz practically teleported to the other end of the couch as he tried to get his breath back. Foolish leaned over and poked the panting boy in his ribs, causing Punz to curl in on himself into the corner of the couch, holding his arms down to his sides.
“Pleahehease Foosh, n-no more please!” Punz was certain he looked as red as a strawberry by this point. He couldn’t help it, Foolish had gone for a death spot right off the bat, leaving him no choice to pretend this had no affect on him.
“O-Ohkahay okay, don’t worry, I’m done,” Foolish’s laugh was slowing down to a few giggles, looking fondly at Punz. “Geez, Luke, if I had known you were that ticklish I would’ve done this during the livestream.”
The blonde boy shot the other a look that could kill, before his look of intimidation was broken by a giggle that somehow bubbled its way out, no matter how hard Punz tried to swallow it. He rolled his eyes and chuckled, sitting up and pulling the hat off of Foolish’s head and tossing it onto the floor.
“You’re incredibly mean. If you tell anyone about that, I’ll make sure to make everyone aware that you can turn your sensitivity on and off, and for whatever reason you happen to leave yours on. So what do you have to say about that, Foolish?”
Punz smirked as he watched the brunettes cheeks immediately flush, grabbing his hat and clearing his throat as he stood up. He turned around and looked down at Punz, wide eyed and nervous.
“Okay. Truce.”
The boys shook hands, and Punz watched as Foolish joined the other boys in cleaning up the water. Punz took a deep breath in, laying his head back against the couch and closing his eyes as his hands tried to rub away the tingles that were left by Foolish’s hand.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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Real Friends
Valkyrae & Reader (Male)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: SMAU, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Following an accidental and not very consensual face reveal, Y/N’s dealing the sudden shift of the spotlight on him even more than it was before. Being the big deal he is on social media, the internet has every right to be freaking out. Luckily, he’s got a friend to help him cope with it all.
Requested by @iawaythrown Hii! Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry for how long it has taken me to complete your request and post it but here it finally is. I’ve never written a SMAU before so this isn’t the classic SMAU format but I still hope you’ll enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤
Imagine you end a toxic relationship of almost a year and go to bed feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted off you, like you can finally breathe properly and like you’re finally getting a taste of freedom. The very freedom you chose to lose by getting in the toxic relationship in the first place. Of course, I didn’t know it was toxic at the time, probably cause it wasn’t, but it gradually turned into a nightmare.
A nightmare that keeps haunting me even after I thought I had put an end to it.
Apparently, that was wishful thinking cause I woke up this morning to find an unbelievable number of notifications and messages from friends, family and my manager and associates. Being in the music industry as a faceless creator, I keep my circle tight and it only consists of people I can trust so to see them all freaking out at me at once, even the most level-headed ones, freaked me out too. Quickly, I opened the first notification I reflexively tapped on and it opened a post in which someone had tagged me.
A picture taken of me while I was asleep, no doubt one taken by my ex. That being said, I think we can all have a guess at who posted it in the first place. I didn’t listen to my manager when he told me to not allow anyone I trust 1000% into my inner circle. I was foolish and at the peak of my career, feeling on top of the world and feeling invincible which was rare for me. I’ve always been insecure about many things in my life, growing up with a lot of judgy people made me be that way. Not to mention that I didn’t want to be the victim of the internet’s racism either. People turn a blind eye most of the time, but it’s still there, it still exists and looms over all social media platforms, disturbing people’s peace left and right.  You see, I didn’t want people to have an opinion of my art based on my appearance or associations with other creators. I’m pretty good friends with many content creators, especially in the gaming industry, but I’ve never wanted to be put in a box as one of the many friends of someone famous. I made a name for myself without anyone knowing who I am exactly.
And now they all know because of this photo that my ex sent to float down the rivers of hungry social media:
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Damn am I gonna get an earful from my manager or what. It’s still rater early though and I’m really not about to deal with this drama on a caffeine-free brain so if there are any calls, emails or messages that need answering - and yes, there are PLENTY of them - they’ll all have to wait until I feel like dealing with them. I’m glad I don’t have to keep up this unbothered charade at home since I live alone cause I seriously don’t feel ok with this. I mean, I could probably report it, but what use would that be when my brand now has a face and a huge chunk of my privacy has already surfaced against my will.
As I sit in my kitchen, sipping my coffee, I finally gather the nerve to at least scroll through the notifications that I’ve received. Fans reaching out, relatives, friends, pissed off people that are there just to exist and try to disturb my peaceful existence but all they’re gonna get is a hard DELETE from me. I have offers on top of offers for modeling pending, waiting on my response. I’ve never considered it, being a faceless creator and all, but my manager will definitely want to milk some cash from this too. That thought makes me sigh in defeat. I have no one to blame but myself for trusting my ex. No one made me do it, no one made me let them in, but I still did, fucking myself over insanely. Just like they’ve now fucked me over.
Amongst the sea of notifications and yet to be opened messages, one in particular stands out and makes me do a double take. It’s a message from my friend Rae - Valkyrae, as she’s known online. She’s one of those gamer friends I mentioned earlier, probably the one I’m closest with. Her and I talk on the regular so seeing a message from her in my inbox is nothing unusual so I wonder why that was the one that stuck out to me. Regardless, that’s the only one I feel like opening and replying to at the moment.
V ~ Hey Y/N, you doing ok? This all must be really hard on you so don’t feel obligated to reply. Do so when you can or want to. I’m here if you wanna talk
Of course Rae would be the one to know how I truly feel in a situation like this. I can act and cover up all I want but she knows exactly what’s underneath the surface of my façade. That third eye friends have for each other, it’s incredible.
Me ~ Doing ok. Wasn’t expecting to wake up to this but now that millions of people know what I look like it feels oddly bittersweet, you know? Like I don’t have to go out of my way to hide anymore but I’m also gonna miss that privacy I had while I was a phantom
Me ~ On the upside: people want me to be a model now XD
My message goes to Seen almost write away, the Typing icon appearing shortly after the messages were read. I wait for Rae’s reply, sipping my slowly cooling coffee with little interest due to how invested I am in our conversation. If there’s a person who can make light of this situation, it’s Rae, no doubt about it.
V ~ I know what you mean. It’s not gonna be easy to adjust to but you will get used to it eventually. I’m sure you’ll even grow to like it. Promise you, it’s not that scary to be exposed, there’s literal millions of people who support you wholeheartedly :) 
V ~ Us, your friends, are here too! Never forget that, we’ve always got your back, Y/N!
V ~ Oh and you really should be a model! Whoever’s saying that has got the right idea. Maybe don’t fear this new change, but embrace it! Take this new turn in your life confidently. Sure, it was out of the blue, but do you really want the person who exposed you to feel the satisfaction of bringing you down? That doesn’t sound like you at all tbh
The epiphany strikes me as soon as Rae’s words sink in as I read them. She’s 100% right. The last thing I want is for my ex to think they’ve won. I refuse to give them the pleasure of tasting victory on the expense of my mental health and career progress. In fact, imma show them just how much they benefited me. But first...
Me ~ Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this eye-opener
Me ~ I owe you one <3
I sure as hell owe her one, but for now I have other battles to win.
Rifling through my gallery, I find one more recent picture and without a shred of doubt or hesitation, I go straight to Instagram to post it.
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~ “Since y’all were curious...And since y’all wanna see me model, you’re welcome” ~
Within seconds likes and comments start flowing in like a riptide, taking over my phone that, despite being charged all night, is already at half of its battery life.
I refresh the page with the post to look at the new comments that have come through, all supportive and complimenting me, some are real thirsty and some are incredibly kind. And even in that sea, her comment still sticks out to me, making me grin like an idiot.
“That’s what I was talking about! Work it, Y/N!“
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You Killed Me, but I Survived and Now I'm Coming Alive
Hey guys. It's been a minute. My job have been kicking my ass. I quit one of them a few months back cause 16-18 hour days were kicking my ass. But my dad died of Covid 1/20/21, on my older sisters birthday and month before my 20th birthday. I am half a country away from him and I won't be going to see the rest of them, but I do have 3 paid days bereavement and while I'm trying to distract myself I decided to try and finish this part. Your feedback motivates me so much. This part was the part I've been waiting for. The whole reason I created this fic. Like for real I had like maybe one sentence summaries planned for the other two parts in my head but this part played out like a full movie in my head down to the last details. This one will probably be the longest. It also has like 3 songs in it because it's the concert/gala scene hopefully I'll be able to cut it down some because i won't need descriptions between every lyrics but who knows. C'est la Vie. Anyways this will be the official last part, but I do already have one for sure bonus planned and a possible bonus that I might do if enough people want it.
This part's title is from "Miss Moving On" by Fifth Harmony. And this part includes the songs "Sorry (I'm not Sorry)" by Demi Lovato, "Home" by Philip Phillips, and "Symphony" by Clean Bandit ft . (Which for me is like a fucking poly anthem. I'm mean a symphony is a perfect metaphor for a healthy poly relationship! I mean it is a lovely way of asking to join into a poly group! Anywho I'm ranting and projecting. Ignore me.)
This is Part 3 of my fic based on @maiisdaddy 's Love of Three.
Tagging list:
@thestressmademedoit @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @lizziejay @indecisive-mess-named-me @captainmac6 @luveverything12 @kris-pines04 @brokenwordsarehard2 @roselynfey @mewwitch @stainedglassm
Part 1 Part 2
Marinette was ecstatic. She was extremely proud of all that she had accomplished in the 6 or 7 seven months since she left Damian. She became a singing sensation and recorded a whole album that would be releasing soon. She spent time healing and hanging out with her friends and pseudo family. Hell she even created outfits for herself and all her friends for the album release/identity reveal gala her Uncle Tony decided to throw for. Not that other guest knew that what this gala was for. Uncle Tony had picked the next closest international holiday and claimed it was a charity gala in honor of said holiday. While he may mot have been being entirely truthful there is never a bad reason to give to charity so she wasn't going to dwell on it.
She could truly say she totally over Damian. She even had Adrien take the ring back to her old apartment for her. She was not worried about him anymore. She had more important matters to attend to. Like the 3 boys who stole her heart while helping her piece it back together. Which she would say was great timing because she was sure Bruce Wayne would be at this gala. She guesses it was some kind of billionaire/millionaire code to never miss a charity event hosted by a fellow billionaires/millionaires.
Either way it was for the best because as soon as Uncle Tony had suggested a gala to reveal at, she had Uncle Jagged help her with two songs that she kept secret from everyone. One to show her appreciate for all her family and friend's support for her and one to confess to the 3 boys who loved her when she felt unlovable. She was going to preform these song for her friends in front of a lot of influential people but she wasn't even nervous. Not even when Alix told her that the gala was to be live streamed. No she was just excited and happy to let her friends know how she was feeling.
The gala was in full swing. All the guests who were coming were already there by the time Marinette and everyone else she came with arrived. She was talking with Chloe, Kagami, and Alix when she decided to grab herself a drink. She was walking to the refreshments table when accidentally bumped in someone's back slightly. "Oh! I'm sorry, sir."
The man then turned around to reveal to be Bruce Wayne himself. "Marinette! I'm surprised to see you. Damian said you were feeling too sick to attend."
Marinette wanted to scowl, but she managed keep her face neutral. She knew there were reporters swarming here and she did not want to make a spectacle. "I'm sure he did. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne I was on my way to get a drink." She didn't even get a chance to leave Bruce in confusion from her statement. No sooner than she took a step to leave did Dick walk up to her.
Dick smiled at her as he greeted her kindly. "Sunshine! It's been a while. I thought Damian said you were under the weather?" As he moved in to hug her she sidestepped out of his reach.
Once upon a time she loved Dick's hugs, but now it would just feel fake. "I'm sure your brother has said many thing about my lack of attendance to many social gatherings. Unfortunately those claims were false as Damian has not been privy to my whereabouts in months. Now if you please excuse me."
She went to walk away again, but she guesses Dick's interference was enough time for Bruce get over his shock because he blocked her path again. "What are you talking about Marinette?" Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Mr. Wayne it has been nice talking with you but this really is a conversation for another time." Marinette sighs. She was trying to be civil. She was sure there were reporters everywhere waiting for the big scoop. She wanted that to be her reveal not her past relationship with an asshole. "Besides this is probably something you'd need to talk to Damian about."
"Talk to me, about what?" There is no God, she was convinced. The sigh that left her mouth was long and full of suffering as she turned around with a clearly fake smile. Facing her now was Damian himself with Tim and Jason behind him. Damian was clearly extremely shocked to she her, but he played it off quickly. "Angel I thought you weren't feeling well. Why didn't you tell me you changed your mind? You could have came with us."
Marinette ducked out of Damian's reach, barely restraining from stomping on his foot with her heels, as he tried to kiss her. "Do not call me Angel. And don't you dare even try to kiss me, Wayne."
Before Marinette could lose her temper anymore Luka came and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Everything okay, Melody?" Marinette took some calming breaths as she attempted to regain her composure.
While she was trying to calm down, it seemed the Wayne family was getting worked up. "And who is this, Marinette?" Bruce asked accusingly.
Marinette looked at the family in front of her in disbelief. "You all met Luka. He's my best friend. Signed under Jagged. In a committed relationship with two of my other best friends, Kagami and Adrien." She shook her head as the all held sheepish expression for assuming the worst. "Not that who I'm with is any of your business anyways."
Before any of them could question to her statement, Felix comes to her other side and whispers into her ear. "Do you want me to call security?" She didn't even get a chance to respond before she heard Dick gasp, scandalized.
"Marinette!! Are you cheating on Damian?" Dick exclaimed. At this point Marinette knew they were drawing a crowd she was trying to keep everyone's dignity intact, even though her reputation wasn't the one at stake.
"Mr. Wayne I once again implore you that we have this conversation in a more private setting." Marinette spoke calmly, but through gritted teeth. She was on her nerve.
Bruce crossed his arm and spoke loudly drawing more attention to them. "No. I demand you explain to me at once why you are here with another man when you are supposed to be marrying my son. Was this all some kind of ruse to go after the Wayne Fortune?" Her jaw dropped. She knew it did but she couldn't stop herself from the shock. The sheer audacity of this family before her. She quickly shut her mouth as her eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. Her Ladybug glare. The Wayne family would never admit it but an involuntary shiver went down their spines at the sight of it.
She knew her friends had gathered behind her at this point and see could see the reporters pushing past each other to get the scoop. Vicki Vale was the closest one. In the corner of her eye she saw the camera that was set up for the livestream as well.
Marinette face finally settled on a look mixed with anger and mischief. "Oh? So want to cause a scene, Mr. Wayne? Well how about I put on a show?" She continued to stare Bruce in the eye as she spoke to one of her, "Chloe, can you tell Jagged that I'll be opening with Sorry. The rest of the show will go as planned." Chloe smiled wickedly before going to do asked.
The Wayne family began to smirk when they heard her say sorry, but whatever they began to feel was quickly shut down as she spoke to them again. "Let's get this straight, Mr. Wayne. I am not cheating on Damian and I never once desired to a part of your family's fortune. It was foolish of me to even once want to be a part of your family but I quickly learned better. I would not want to even look at the money that is connected to your family's name if the requirement was to be even cordial with Damian, let alone married to him."
She then towards the crowd the surrounding them. "If everyone would please take their seats facing the stage the show is about to to begin." Without a second thought Marinette headed towards the stage while the rest of her friends took their seats. Some one who was in the staff working tonight led the Wayne family to seats right in front of the stage. Soon everyone was seated and Marinette was standing center stage with a microphone.
Marinette smiled brightly at the crowd. "Thank you all for coming. I'm sure you all know me as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pseudo niece of Tony Stark and Jagged Stone, and for some of you ex-fiance of Damian, but for others you still current fiance of Damian Wayne. Well I hate to inform that some of you are wrong. Anyways I'm sure your wondering why I'm up here. Well Uncle Tony promised a surprise musical guest so I'd like to reintroduce myself to all of as Neon Titanium! I'm going to be preforming a few songs for you tonight from my new album about to release but before that I decided I should clear the air. Let me start by saying it has been about 7 months since I broke off my engagement to Damian Wanye. While most of you know I chose to kept the reason of said break up private, someone here tonight decided that they were entitled to the reason to being told to them, very publicly. And who am I to deny such a request?" There was a false sincerity to her final sentence that seemed almost menacing.
In the front you can see the paling faces of many of the Wayne men as Tim is on his phone. He finally pulls up Marinette interview that was released prior to Damian announcement. "Damian, what the hell did you do?" Tim voice was barely above a whisper but they all heard it.
Marinette continued on quite content to the situation before her. "Well here's the truth. Damian did the unforgivable. He repeatedly cheated on me while emotionally abusing me and gaslighting me.
"He kept me from seeing everyone I cared about and his own family, claiming it was for my own safety and called me selfish for wanting to leave the apartment he kept me locked in. And while at first he seemed to actually be concerned my wellbeing, over time he stopped caring.
"He became distant, turning back into the Ice Prince you all knew him to be. He would lie about why I wouldn't leave the apartment constantly while still leaving me alone in the apartment constantly. Then he started getting late night calls from "work" to the point I would barely see him. I overheard one of these calls once. I heard him telling who ever was on the other side of the phone that I had no clue and to be waiting for him naked. But I stayed hopeful. I thought I could fix things. But he got worse.
"He was slept with the one person who made it their life goal to take everything from me. Even before I moved to Gotham, this girl hated me and she took all of the people who I thought were my friends and turned them against me. My true friends stayed and knew the truth but it still hurt. And Damien knew this. I told him all about this girl abd how she hurt me. Yet he still slept with her.
"The girl knew I was Damien's fiance. Somehow she got my number and sent me a picture of her in bed with Damian, both of them naked. I'm not going to lie I broke down when I saw that. Before her I could play ignorant and act like I didn't know what he was doing. But this? This was impossible for me to ignore. He cared so little about me that he slept with the one person who do whatever it takes to hurt me. I left that same night with only the things that were mine. Everything I bought came with and everything he bought me stayed. Including the cell phone he bought me when I moved in with him. The only thing that wasn't mine that came with was the engagement ring because I couldn't bring myself to truly accept the truth that it was over yet. I later on had it returned because I remember Mr. Wayne saying it belonged to his mother, though I'm guessing Damian didn't notice."
Marinette saw Bruce whip his head towards Damian who shrunk in on himself.
"Oops. Guess it wasn't noticed indeed. Anyways. For the last 7 months I have been living in Stark Towers with my Uncle Tony, healing with some of my closest friends helping me. And after some convincing working on an album with Luka and my Uncle Jagged. I will preforming a few of those songs for the gala tonight and they will also be live streamed for those who paid for virtual tickets. My album will be released in the next following week." Marinette took a deep breath as she prepared for her first song.
"Originally I planned to open with a different song tonight but after this impromptu info dump, I thought only fair to follow it with the song I wrote dedicated to Damian. I like to call this one Sorry" As Marinette finished the music started playing over the speakers. Soon she was singing passionately.
Now I'm out here looking like revenge
Feelin' like a ten, the best I ever been
And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this,
But it gets worse (wait a minute)
She pointed to Damian while rolling her eyes.
Now you're out here looking like regret
Ain't too proud to beg, second chance you'll never get
And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this
But it gets worse (wait a minute)
She took the mic off it's stand as she walked along the front of the stage.
Now payback is a bad bitch
And baby, I'm the baddest
You fuckin' with a savage
Can't have this, can't have this (ah)
And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Being so bad got me feelin' so good
Showing you up like I knew that I would
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned
Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns
Baby, fineness is the way to kill
Marinette gestured to herself from head to toe.
Tell me how it feel, bet it's such a bitter pill
And yeah, I know you thought you had bigger, better things
Bet right now this stings (wait a minute)
'Cause the grass is greener under me
Bright as Technicolor, I can tell that you can see
And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this
But it gets worse (wait a minute)
By this point Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien had got up and started dancing along to the song.
Now payback is a bad bitch
And baby, I'm the baddest
You fuckin' with a savage
Can't have this, can't have this (ah)
And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Being so bad got me feelin' so good
Showing you up like I knew that I would
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned
Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns
Marinette waved to her 3 friends to join on stage for the next part.
Talk that talk, baby
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby
If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby
Everyone was clapping to the beat while Marinette pranced across the stage, except for the Wayne family.
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby
Oh yeah Talk that talk, baby
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby
If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby (oh yeah)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Being so bad got me feelin' so good
Showing you up like I knew that I would
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned
Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns
As the song came to a close, there was a roar of applause as her friends went back to her table.
Marinette did a little half bow. "Thank you. Thank you."
She wait till it was quiet again as she returned the mic to the stand. "Now as you can all see I'm doing much better now and I'm happy without him, but if it wasn't for the support system I have I never would have made it to where I am. My parents are in France so in my time of need I turned to my family who was close. My uncles Jagged and Tony, and my aunts Penny and Pepper. They're wonderful and they have always been there for me when I need them. And also my friends, both old and new have stood by me through all of this and helped me come out stronger. So this next song was a surprise gift for them."
Jagged had grabbed an acoustic guitar and was playing her in sitting in the background of her as a projection shined on the wall behind her, showing pictures of her with her friends and her uncles and aunts.
Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm going to make this place your home
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm going to make this place your home
She took the mic off the stand again as she walk off the stage to her friends and family in the crowd giving the hugs as vocalized along with music.
On the screen was several pictures she found. She put together the slideshow herself. There was a picture of herself crying in the midst of group hug while the people around her comforted. Another was her and all her friends playing in the pool. There was one where they had an impromptu free-for-all dodgeball game and she had won. She was laughing as the guys lifted her into and the girls were all cheering around her.
She made her way back to the stage after the final hug.
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm going to make this place your home
She smiled as projector turned off and the crowd applauded again. "Thank you all. But truly thank you to my friends and family for helping and supporting me."
She waited till it was quiet once more before speaking again. "All those who love me have done so much for me, but right now I wanna talk about 3 very special people."
She smiled softly as she looked over to where Peter, Felix, and Jon were sitting. "These 3 boys did so much for me even though they were the ones who knew me the shortest. They've been kind and patient and understanding with me. They all started to love me when I felt my most unlovable. And soon they found a love in each other as well. The best part is even after loving each other they offered to include me in their love as well, whenever I was ready. They gave me their friendship unconditionally no matter what my answer came to be and never rushed me for an answer ever. So Jon, Felix, and Peter this song is for you."
She saw the Wayne family's eyes widen, but she paid them no mind as she started singing.
I've been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
And every melody is timeless
Life was stringing me along
Then you came and you cut me loose
Was solo singing on my own
Now I can't find the key without you
And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
I'm sorry if it's all too much
Every day you're here, I'm healing
And I was runnin' out of luck
I never thought I'd find this feeling
At this point Marinette had walked down the stage grabbed Jon's hand and led him back to the stage dancing.
'Cause I've been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
(A rhapsody for you and me)
And every melody is timeless
She repeated the process with Felix as Jon danced nervously danced on stage.
And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
She left Felix and Jon dancing together as she brought Peter back to the stage with her. She continued to dance with him as she sang.
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah ah, ah
She smiled as Peter dipped her before bring her back up and handing her off to Felix.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah ah, ah
Felix twirled her, letting her dress flare, as she spun right in to join awaiting arms where he lifted her into the air.
And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
He slowly set her down and she turned until her back is against his chest. His hand are on hips as they sway gently.
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
Peter and Felix were mimicking her position with Jon in front of her and she put an arm around Peter's neck while the other still held the microphone.
(Oh, oh, oh)
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
This time as she finished singing the crowd was silent as she looked at the 3 boys who held her heart. "Jon. Felix. Peter. You guys are some of the best people to ever walk into my life. I want nothing more than to be with you 3. So if you are still willing, will you do me the honor of calling me your girlfriend?"
She looked hopeful as the silence filled her ears. It felt like hours, even though it was definitely seconds, before she heard them all say yes.
Cheers erupted as Peter kissed her and Jon and Felix kissed each other over the former two's heads. She then turned kissed Jon as Peter kissed Felix, before kissing Felix as Jon kissed Peter. She grinning wildly when the all finally pulled away from each other.
She raised the mic to her lips as she closed out. "Thank you all for being here for my reveal/debut! I got one more song that I'll be preforming at the end of the gala, so y'all have fun and mingle. Once again, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Neon Titanium, I'm glad you enjoyed the show!"
She winked at Bruce on her last word as she walked off the stage with the loves of her life to where her family and friends were waiting for her.
Her and her boys (and Kwami does she love that -Her boys) were in the midst of getting congratulations when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Bruce Wayne stood as tall as ever though he refused to meet any of her group's eyes.
"Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I apologize for my early behavior tonight, I was missing the whole story." He voice was steady but some shame shone through. His boys were behind him all of them also looking sheepish except Damian who was glaring at her new loves Jon in particular.
Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I do that the media are sharks, and events like these are a feeding frenzy for them. I tried my hardest to keep all of our reputations intact tonight, a lot harder than I should have since I had nothing to hide since I was the victim here. Yet, you in no regards of the truth, attempted to smear me with no hesitation. Personally the rest of you did nothing to me so I had no ill will towards you, but you forced my hand. The results of today are direct consequences of your own actions."
Before anyone else could speak up Damian did. "Kent," He nearly growled. "Why didn't you inform me as soon as you knew she was gone. As my best friend you should have informed me immediately!"
Jon answered lowly in a dark tone no had ever heard him use before. "My father tried to warn you father, Wayne, but when questioned you just dug your own grave deeper. Besides as my father explained to me it is not our job to make sure you two are aware of the going ons of your own household. Also you lost the right to be my best friend when you decided to be so cruel to the person you were supposed to love and then lie when confronted about it."
Marinette scoffed. "I figured when you finally noticed I was gone you'd assume I was off throwing a temper tantrum in hiding somewhere and that I'd come back. The fact that you weren't even worried about me in all that time I was missing is really telling."
Bruce glared Damian down from respond as his brothers held him back. "I just have one more question before we rightfully leave you alone. You said you had the ring return? Where could it possibly be?"
Marinette shrugged. "I had Adrien return it a couple months ago. Damian was fucking some girl in his apartment when Adrien walked in and he didn't even notice him set it on the dresser. I believe heard on the grapevine someone named Lila is claim she's Damian's true love and he had to keep up our engagement for appearances. She also claimed he proposed to her with a Wayne family heirloom until he get away from me. I guess maybe next time Damian should pay better attention to his house guests." She giggled sarcastically afterwards.
Bruce frowned as he nodded. "I see. I'll leave you all alone now. Have a wonderful evening, and congratulations." As he led his family away Marinette could hear whispered yelling but could make out a few phrases like "PR Nightmare", "priceless heirloom", "huge mistake", and even "major fuck up".
As soon as they were out of hearing range Marinette started laughing, causing everyone around her to laugh too. She finally calmed down eventually but her large smile never went away. This is the happiest and the most free she's felt in the long time.
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All That Was Fair 
Chapter 13: A Good Touch
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Chapter Summary: Claire learns one of Jamie’s secrets.
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a/n: We take another foray into Claire’s brain!! The last Claire POV chapter was Chapter 7 (if you want a refresher on where she's at, maybe take a glance back there). I'll just remind you that it ended with "In that moment, she knew she loved him." :))
Chapter 13: A Good Touch 
***
Claire was lost in the heavenly feeling of water rushing over her skin— hot and soothing to her muscles, easing all the tension out of her. It wasn’t often that she felt truly warm these days. The few occasions included being wrapped in the soft (what was it called… blankit?) and sitting in front of the “space heater.” Or being wrapped in Jamie’s arms... 
As much as she loved all the human conveniences for warmth, nothing compared to the feeling of Jamie’s ever-present heat seeping into her as he clasped her securely to his body. Just the thought of his arms— unreasonably big but still soft, making them the perfect place on which to rest her head— twisted her belly and made her flush a bit. 
She tangled her fingers through her curls, letting the water flow down to her scalp. Her head fell forward in pleasure and a sigh escaped her lips.
But her luxuriating was interrupted by a woody bang from outside and Jamie’s voice calling, “are ye doin’ alright, lass?” 
She startled a little and then nodded before remembering that of course he couldn’t see that. 
“Better than alright. I’ll be out in a second,” she replied cheerily. 
Feeling a sudden haste (that may or may not have had anything to do with her human), she stepped out of the shower and grabbed the soft (also a blankit?-) thing... and used it to dry herself off. She wrapped it around her middle and then made to open the door. 
A bit of disappointment tugged at her when she saw that Jamie was nowhere in sight. Figuring he was taking care of whatever it was that he needed to, she padded down to her room to change. 
The collection of dresses they had gotten were delightful. She hadn’t had a chance to put them all on yet (especially after their hasty departure from Mrs. Fitz’ place), but just looking at them made her feel excited. Her favorite was by far the white one— it was most reminiscent of what the fair folk of the seelie court wore— but seeing the darker colors piqued her interest. She chose a dark blue one for now and quickly pulled it over her head. Her curls were still drying, but she didn’t think it’d be a problem. Peeking behind her to make sure her wings were covered (though it probably didn’t matter if Jamie was the only one seeing her), she decided it would do. 
As she wandered back into the hallway, meaning to go down and maybe find Adso, she suddenly caught sight of Jamie and her jaw dropped. 
He must have just finished with the shower because he was bare save the blankit wrapped around his hips and there were drops of water smattered over his chest and shoulders. There was no indication that he’d seen her, busy as he was doing… whatever it was that he was doing— but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. When she had told him he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, she hadn’t been exaggerating. Looking at his smooth, tanned skin— dotted with occasional freckles that gave Claire the sudden urge to run to him and kiss every last one— she felt a heat rise in her cheeks. If only she could run her hands along every inch, to feel how smooth and soft it was under her fingertips...
But then he turned a little, getting ready to head toward his room, and she caught sight of his back. 
All the air was punched out of her. 
The skin of his back was marred terribly, the flesh criss-crossed by silvery-white lines that stretched all across it, healed laboriously from being brutally torn some time ago. Some indents were deeper than others, making divots in the skin, but others were barely visible other than faint lines. The scars made a terrible spider’s web across what should have been a perfect canvas. 
“Jamie.” 
It was completely inadvertent as she suddenly found herself rushing toward him and a sigh of his name tumbling from her lips. 
He turned and saw her, his eyes widening, and then he hastily angled himself to make sure she couldn’t see his back. His cheeks flamed red— not with the sweet color of embarrassment, but rather the hue of shame that sent Claire’s insides twisting all the more.
“I didna ken ye were there,” he forced out. 
Claire couldn’t be bothered with words at the moment. She reached out for him, feeling her heart break at the expression on his face and the thought of his old wounds. First, she gently cupped his face, feeling the stubble rough against her palm. 
“Let me see?” she entreated in a whisper. 
He looked reluctant for a second, but then nodded against her hand. 
With as much gentleness as she could possibly convey, Claire took him by the shoulders and turned him. He went willingly, and then his entire back was on display for her. All the trauma. The evidence of raw pain now healed but forever etched into his skin. 
As if drawn by a magnet, her hand raised and just barely brushed over the marred skin. He tensed at first, which almost made her draw back. But in the next second, he was relaxing to her touch. Her fingertips brushed across shoulder blades and down the plane of his back, hardly any contact. She could feel— not just sense, but actually feel in her body— the echoes of his pain. 
“What happened?” she whispered. 
“Dinna fash, it was a long time ago—” he started, but she wouldn’t let him get away with dismissing this as if it didn’t matter. 
“Tell me,” she pleaded. 
She placed her whole hand over his back and pressed gently in reassurance that she was here. He wasn’t alone. 
“It was a car accident,” he began, a slight tremor in his voice, “ye ken, what we rode in the other day? Sometimes they crash. I dinna mean tae scare ye, lass—“  Claire almost laughed aloud at this. Even in re-living his trauma, he still was so concerned about her. “—but sometimes things happen. Infrequently, mind ye. They’re verra safe. But this time it wasna. Another car hit mine. I was jes’ a foolish lad of 19, and I wasna strapped in properly. I flew through the front window and went skidding on my back across the ground wi’ all the shards of glass and pavement tearing up my back.” 
Claire wasn’t sure what half of those words meant, but she could imagine well enough. She felt sick to her stomach with how well she did understand. It took great willpower to keep her hand steady where it lay on his back. 
“I lay in agony for weeks. It took me so long to recover that sometimes I thought I couldna bear to live.” 
Tears were beading at her eyes and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. The force of the pain she felt for his suffering hit her like a wave. As much as she didn’t want to add to Jamie’s discomfort, she found she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. 
“I wish I had been there,” she choked as she resumed gently tracing over his scars, “I wish desperately I could have healed you. Eased your suffering. I wish—” the tremor in her voice halted all words. 
Her vision was so blurred that all she saw was a flash of skin as Jamie turned toward her so he was facing her again. 
“Ye’ve the kindest heart, mo nighean donn,” he said quietly.  
She felt his hands gently cupping her face, and his thumbs swiped over her falling tears. She cursed herself for making him comfort her in a moment like this, but the onslaught of emotion radiating from him had overtaken her. But if she was being honest with herself, it was far more than her sensing his suffering and emotions. It went beyond empathy— the thought of him in agony hurt her directly because of the force of her love for him. 
Looking up at his face through the gathered tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry you went through that, Jamie.” 
“It only made me who I am today,” he answered.
There was such strength in his voice. A man wise beyond his years. 
There was a strength in his heart as well— one that soothed the surge of emotions and brought calm to Claire’s reeling mind. 
“Are you ashamed of them?” she suddenly burst out, “You turned away from me when I saw...” 
“I dinna-” he swallowed, “I dinna show them to anyone. I have no use for pity. I hate it when people look at me differently when they find out. It’s jes’ no’ somethin’ I talk about anymore.” 
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” she breathed, understanding the gravity of his trust, “I could never pity you, and you should never feel ashamed. They’re a part of you, Jamie. And everything about you is perfect.” 
The air had never returned to her lungs during this whole conversation. Her insides were still knotted up with the strength of her emotion for him, making it hard to force words out. But she needed him to know. She loved every part of him. And she wanted his heart— complete with all the wounds and scars. 
“Ye have a good touch,” he commented softly as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “I’ve never let anyone touch the scars before, save the doctors and nurses or my family. But— I didna mind when you did...” 
The force of the last statement made it quite clear that he more than didn’t mind, he’d liked it, and Claire made a note to touch him as often as she could until he no longer thought of the scars as something ugly. 
“I like when you touch me too,” she suddenly found herself saying. She didn’t remember the words leaving her mouth, let alone deciding to say them, but she heard the echo of them in the air and saw quite clearly his reaction. 
Jamie’s whole body seemed to tense. He withdrew from her as if he suddenly couldn’t be near her, and her hand on him fell away to hang limply at her side. His downward glance as he avoided her eyes made her wonder if it had been wrong to say. The distance between them was like a blow, and the absence of his touch ached inside her. Perhaps she’d crossed a line with him? But for the life of her, she didn’t know what she’d done that was wrong. His energy had changed in an instant— one second they were sharing a connection, and the next, he was pulling away from her. 
“I’m sorry, I’ll— leave you to get dressed,” she stuttered out a bit helplessly. 
“Aye,” came his awkward response. 
When she gave him one last look before departing, she found his ears were red and he couldn’t seem to meet her eye. 
She went downstairs with a stone in the pit of her stomach, hoping desperately that she hadn’t inadvertently created a distance between them. 
***
The rest of the night passed with a soothing easiness. Jamie came down from his shower seeming quite his usual self again. She’d watched him make food while trying not to get entranced by the shapes of his muscles shifting underneath his shirt. They sat and talked for a while as he ate— him telling stories of his childhood and family. Jamie was quite the storyteller, and Claire found herself getting lost in his enthusiasm. His face lit up as he told her animatedly about his parents meeting, about his awkward years as a boy, and about an incident involving him, Ian, and an owl (at which she couldn’t stop laughing until her sides ached). Claire thought she would never tire of listening to him talk about his passions. She could tell he loved fiercely and felt things deeply, and that brought such a well of affection bubbling up in her chest that she had to get up and give him a hug. 
They sat on the odd, tall stumps, so she slipped off a little clumsily before bridging the distance between them, Jamie’s eyes wide as he watched her while he attempted to finish speaking. 
He chuckled as she looped her arms around his neck and squeezed— right at the end of his story. 
“What was that for, lass?” he asked, adorably breathless. 
His big hands came up to rest on her back, smoothing down it in response. 
She ran her fingers through his curls, enjoying their softness, and then answered without letting go, “you’re just so passionate, Jamie.” 
He had no response for her, but she didn’t mind. With one last squeeze to the nape of his neck, she let him go. But before she withdrew completely, she ran a tender hand along the length of his back. A silent reassurance of her acceptance of the scars— just as she promised herself she would at every opportunity. 
It was late. When she drew back from him, her gaze caught sight of the darkness outside, and she had to stifle a yawn. Seeing the distant stars (the familiar gleam making her bones ache with a sudden homesickness), she wandered closer to the clear square that let them view outside. 
“Tired, lass?” Jamie asked, craning his head to look at her from his spot. 
She nodded; there was no point in insisting otherwise (Jamie always could read her). As much as she would have loved to stay up to listen to more of his stories and look out at the stars, she was more than ready to sleep. 
“Will you lay down with me?” Claire asked, feeling suddenly shy. She didn’t turn around to look at him when she asked.  
There was absolutely no desire within her to spend any time away from him. She longed for the warmth and comfort of his arms— the long planes of his body against her. It was only with that safety and security that she found real rest. 
“Aye, give me jes’ a moment, lass.” 
Relief flooded her at his acceptance. 
Jamie rose, gathering his things, and she hovered behind him as he puttered around in the kitchen. The moment his hands were free and he started to turn toward her, she slipped her hand into his. He rewarded her with a soft smile that made her feel warm inside, and then took her up with him. 
Before long, she was under the blankits and waiting for Jamie to join her. She tossed and turned several times, her mind sorting through all the things that had happened that day. The argument, Jamie’s injury, learning about his past… there was so much to digest. In the unnatural quiet, her mind was racing with the assaults of too many things she didn’t wish to think about. It sometimes felt to her that life was moving so unbelievably fast. She wished it would slow down and give her a moment to breathe. 
That breath came when Jamie slid in beside her. Instead of laying down flat like he usually did (giving her the perfect opportunity to rest her head on his chest) Jamie fitted himself along the length of her back and pulled her close to him. The moment his body came in contact with hers, peace descended on her. A feeling took hold of her, a sensation that was indescribable and something she had never experienced before Jamie. 
“Is this alright?” Jamie asked with the sweetest sincerity that made her love him all the more. 
“Perfect,” she breathed, shifting back so she was fully encapsulated in his astonishing warmth. 
She drifted to sleep under the solid anchor of Jamie’s arms and the security of his presence.
***
a/n: So if you're wondering about the progress of this story... There are only 3 more chapters left in the first arc, ahh!! Things are about to ramp uppp, stick with me. But don't worry, I would very much like to continue with the arc II once we finish arc I. I prewrote all 16 chapters of the first arc, but the second arc only exists in my brain currently. I'm trying to get over some major writer's block + real life, but if you guys are interested, I hope to get working on arc II soon. 
Thanks so much for your support of the story, love to you all!!
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tinybibmpreg · 3 years
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prompt fill 7/80 - #11 - Have you seen the rest of their family? ft. Prince Richard Silvers, Klaude & Ezekiel Goldsborough (plus their father), and Elizabeth Valentine
oh boy this one is long. Richard and Klaude (and ezekiel and elizabeth) are characters i made years ago and wrote a bunch of stories for, but i never finished any of them. i do wanna rewrite those because i like them still lol. but have this new fresh thing with them instead, featuring both of the Goldsborough boys knocked up by their respective partners lmao
Silvers: Reunion 
“Have you seen the rest of their family?” Richard asked, leaning in close to Elizabeth as they were escorted into the Goldsborough manor. “Klaude mentions his older brother and father sometimes in his letters, but I have no clue what they look like or what they're like.”
The younger woman shook her head, looking terribly nervous as they entered the huge house. She glanced around and fidgeted with a ring on her middle finger. “Ezekiel showed me a picture of his mom once back at the academy… but she passed away when he was a child, so I don't think that helps. Ezekiel mostly talks about Klaude when he mentions family.”
“Damn. That totally sucks. I should have done research. I don't even know anyone's names.” He hadn't been nervous about coming to stay with Klaude at his family’s estate at first. But now upon realizing he was going to seem foolish and uncaring, his usual confidence was dwindling away. He didn't want Klaude to think he wasn't interested in the rest of his family, to give him any reason to suspect he hadn't wanted to show up.
When getting married, one was supposed to be at least familiar with one’s partner’s family.
He'd just been so desperate to see his fiancé again that he'd bypassed everything else.
“Well, their dad’s name is Raoul, and their older brother is Manson,” Elizabeth said. “Ezekiel calls his two sisters by nicknames, but they live with their spouses so they shouldn't be here.”
“They have sisters?”
“Yes. It goes Manson, Klaude, Hattie, Lin, and Ezekiel.”
Richard chuckled a bit. “Zeke’s the family baby, huh?”
“Their sisters have kids, so those are the family babies…”
Why did Klaude have to be so tight-lipped about everything? He hadn't mentioned being an uncle, or that he even had sisters.
They were escorted through an entrance hall to a large study. Richard perked up as they walked in, but their escorts left them with just Klaude and Ezekiel’s father. There was no sign of the brothers. Richard struggled to keep from deflating. Elizabeth’s fidgeting increased.
“Ah, Prince Silvers, Miss Valentine. Welcome to my home. Was your trip pleasant?”
Richard took over the conversation before Elizabeth could have a chance, giving her time to calm her nerves. “It's wonderful to be here. Our trip from the Silvers Kingdom went smoothly, if not a bit slowly for my tastes.”
“I'm sure the two of you were eager to be here.” Though Lord Goldsborough sounded pleasant enough and had a small smile on his face, the look in his eyes was anything but friendly and welcoming. Richard couldn't blame him, considering the circumstances of why they were there. He applauded the man for being so composed. If the situation were reversed, his own father would have been livid. “Your sister, Princess Ronella, is not with you?” the man asked.
“She is back at the Silvers Palace, studying. Miss Valentine is now capable of providing the magic I need, so my sister doesn't have to trouble herself following at my heels wherever I may go.”
“I'm sure it's no trouble, helping her brother.”
“We adore each other, but circumstances kept her from her proper education. I'm glad she's able to return to her schooling at home and to spend time with her mother, as young girls should.”
“Indeed. And things have settled, in your kingdom?”
“Very. It is peaceful at last, and the people flourish. Miss Valentine was a wonderful help to my father and king and I.” Elizabeth jumped a bit, stuttering that she had just tried her best. Richard gave her a side-eye glance and patted her arm. “Without her magic, I may not have been able to come and pay my respects to you, Lord Goldsborough, and I would not be able to see Klaude again.”
“Thank goodness for Miss Valentine then. Klaude and Ezekiel are eager to see the both of you later.”
“A-are they doing well?” Elizabeth asked.
Lord Goldsborough gave them both a strained smile. Richard vowed to himself that he would find some way to apologize to the man, on behalf of himself and Elizabeth, but mostly himself. He was sure Lord Goldsborough would be more forgiving of Elizabeth, a sweet girl who hadn't intended to defile his youngest son. Richard knew that on the other hand, he'd caused a full-blown scandal, and the blame for it laid mostly on him. Now Lord Goldsborough had to rush to arrange a wedding between his second eldest son and the crown prince of a large empire, whereas Elizabeth and Ezekiel had a bit of time and far less prominence.
“They're both doing well. Klaude will be especially glad for your arrival, Prince Silvers. He has yet to give birth, though the doctors say he is due any day now.”
“I'm relieved I could make it in time before the birth,” Richard told him. “Is Klaude here? Ah, and Ezekiel as well?” he asked.
Lord Goldsborough took a seat on a fine chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You’ve both had a long journey. Why don’t you sit and have some refreshments? Klaude is resting, but I’m sure he’ll be up later in time for dinner.”
They’d been sitting on a train for hours and had eaten right before arriving so they wouldn’t have anything in the way of seeing Klaude and Ezekiel right when they arrived, so Richard absolutely did not want to sit again. However, he had to be polite. It wouldn’t do for a prince of his standing to turn down his host, especially not after his sister had drilled it into him that he had to actually behave like a royal while around nobles.
So he gestured for Elizabeth to sit at the end of a loveseat and took a seat on the cushion next to her even though he felt like Lord Goldsborough was purposefully keeping them from seeing his sons. “Thank you, Lord Goldsborough. We’d love some refreshments after our trip.”
“I’ll go ask a maid to bring some tea. Then we can discuss a few important matters.”
“Of course. Whatever you’d like.”
Lord Goldsborough stood and left to speak to one of the servants they’d passed on their way to the room. As soon as he’d left the room, Elizabeth turned to Richard and said, “I wonder why we can’t see Ezekiel… he said Klaude was resting, but he hardly mentioned Zeke…”
Richard slumped back and scoffed. “He’s not letting us see them yet because he hates us, Elizabeth.”
“Wh- what?!” she cried. He shushed her and glanced back at the doorway. Though frazzled, she quieted down and asked, “Why do you think that? Does he really hate us?”
“Of course he does,” Richard replied. He shrugged and looked around the room. Nothing caught his eye. All the decorations and furniture were standard for a nobleman’s manor, all expensive but impersonal items to show off wealth to any guests. Elizabeth looked even more anxious, so Richard explained, “Elizabeth, two of his sons are carrying our children, children conceived out of wedlock. His youngest is pregnant with a commoner girl’s child, and his second eldest is about to give birth to a foreign crown prince’s illegitimate firstborn. It’s a huge scandal for the family, especially with us being gone for six months. We can’t even marry early and try to conceal what happened. Klaude is due any day and Ezekiel is what? Almost eight months along?”
“Y-yes, almost eight… I can see what you mean, now… I never thought about it like that. I hope Zeke’s been alright. He was so worried when he found out about the baby, and then I had to leave and it took so long for us to come back. I hope he hasn’t been stressed out about a scandal.”
Richard waved her concerns off. “Eh, Ezekiel’s probably not too affected by that. Klaude and I are the ones with the major scandal.” Which Klaude had complained plenty about in his letters, even saying that he’d once nearly punched one of his relatives for making a comment about the baby being illegitimate. Richard had thought that meant his older brother and Klaude was just wording it strangely, but now he wondered if it was a brother-in-law that had asked Klaude how he felt about carrying a future bastard king.
If he could figure out which relative had said it, maybe he could humiliate them with a spell of some sort and make Klaude laugh. It was hard to get Klaude to fully laugh, and he loved whenever he managed it. Surely a good bit of revenge would work.
He hoped that Klaude’s father wouldn’t keep them apart for too long. Though he understood why Lord Goldsborough wanted them away from his sons, he missed Klaude and was impatient to see him again. It’d been a bit miserable back at home without Klaude to talk to every day. He missed spending time with the man and devoting his time to getting his cold exterior to crack. Those moments when he got to see Klaude’s softer, affectionate side… Moments he knew he was seeing a part of Klaude no one else got to see. He’d really missed them dearly.
Richard was also quite eager to see how Klaude looked, heavy with his child, ready to deliver any day. Klaude’s belly had been noticeably rounded out when he’d last seen him, a small swell that Richard could hardly take his hands off of. Having seen a few other full-term people before, it wasn’t difficult to imagine a full belly and swollen breasts on Klaude. And it was just as easy to imagine him still fitting into his typical formal and well-tailored clothes, even being nine months pregnant.
He sighed, wishing he could lean against his arm or bounce his leg. It was killing him to be patient.
Still, the image of Klaude and the good memories of spending time with him would have to remain just in his fantasy for now, until dinner. It would be rude of Lord Goldsborough not to have all of his family within the estate present at dinner when they had a guest of such high standing. At least Richard could count on that, that the nobleman wouldn’t dare to break the rules of high society in front of the heir of a kingdom much larger and far richer and more prosperous than his own country.
Glancing at Elizabeth, who was now solely focused on fidgeting with the spinning rings Richard had ordered to be made for her, he wondered if she was thinking of the same thing. Ezekiel was a bit too sweet-looking and gangly for his own tastes, but he imagined that being pregnant had filled the scrawny young man out and given him a healthier flush to his usual pallor. Certainly, it would suit him.
Richard told himself it was to help snap Elizabeth out of her anxious state, but he just really wanted to tease her to take his mind off of not being able to see Klaude yet as he asked, “So, how do you think Ezekiel looks?”
“Hm?” Elizabeth’s head shot up. Richard reached over and tried to fix her hair so it wasn’t so messy. He and his sister had tried to get her to stop looking so ruffled, but no matter what they did Elizabeth always looked like she’d been caught in the wind or had fallen. “What do you mean? He should look like he usually does… just, um, pr-pregnant.”
“Exactly. Klaude’s told me in his letters that he’s blaming me for how much sweets he’s been craving. Do you think Ezekiel’s indulging?”
She latched onto the wrong thing. “But you hate sweets…?”
“Beth. I have been utterly consumed with thinking about how I’m going to be putting my hands on every inch of Klaude’s heavy belly, and on everything else that’s changed with the pregnancy. You haven’t been thinking the same of Ezekiel?”
“Pr-Prince!” She covered her mouth with her hands, flustered.
“He’s always been a skinny little thing, and you’re a big girl. I bet he’s huge. I bet his breasts are nice and large as well, to feed the big baby you stuck in him.”
“I don’t get how you can say stuff like that with a straight face, Prince!” she squeaked. “Why do you always tease me like that?”
“You’re so easy, that’s why. Come on, haven’t you been thinking about it?”
“Of course I have! But I wouldn’t say it out loud!” Richard put a finger over his lips to shush her and she glared at him. “Prince…!”
Before he could keep teasing her, he heard footsteps. Richard looked behind them at the doorway and Lord Goldsborough returned, followed by a maid holding a tray with tea. Richard straightened up, putting on a charming smile.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. I had to attend to something,” Lord Goldsborough said as he took his seat again.
“Not at all.” Richard took a cup of tea and waved away the maid when she offered milk and honey. He waited for Elizabeth and Lord Goldsborough to take their own cups before taking a sip. Then, he asked, “What was it that you wished to discuss?”
Lord Goldsborough set down his cup and put his hands on his lap. “I was hoping to take this time to discuss matters relating to your engagement with my son, about the wedding, Prince Silvers.”
Elizabeth took a sip of her tea to keep from reacting. Richard had no doubt she was remembering his many rants the past few months about how he didn’t care what they did for the wedding, that Klaude could handle that since it was going to be a wedding with Klaude’s country’s traditions. Richard would simply follow along, as anything would make him happy as long as Klaude was satisfied with it.
He wished he could say that to Lord Goldsborough, but didn’t think the man would enjoy hearing that Richard wouldn’t care if Klaude just wanted to sign a paper and go on with married life or if he wanted to consummate the marriage in front of everyone.
Definitely, he didn’t think Klaude’s father would want to hear that.
So he didn’t mention anything like that. “I’d love to discuss it. But shouldn’t wedding arrangements be made with Klaude…?”
“The family typically arranges things, and I have discussed things with my son in length the past few months. But since you’re a member of royalty, we would like to include you in arrangements, so as to avoid offending you or your kingdom.”
Richard did not mention that if Lord Goldsborough tried to discuss a wedding with his father or even anyone else in the royal court, that he would get laughed at and told the whole ordeal was ridiculous. He did not want to mention the words ‘concubine’ or ‘royal consort’ to Klaude’s father to explain that in his kingdom, Klaude would most certainly not be referred to as his husband no matter what their marital status was.
“Klaude has briefly mentioned to me how a typical wedding would proceed for your family. It all sounds quite agreeable.”
“Yes, he’s said you agreed with the procedures. But the details, rather, is what we would like your input on.”
“I’m sure whatever you have planned will be perfect! I don’t want to cause any difficulties when I know there is a limited amount of time to prepare things…”
Lord Goldsborough exhaled slowly. “It would be no trouble to fulfill your desires for the wedding… The staff is quite capable. And there is plenty of time to prepare.”
“But isn’t Klaude going to give birth any day now?” Elizabeth asked, and Richard wanted to take her aside and shake her for not listening to his sister’s social etiquette lessons. Somehow, Ronella would find out she’d spoken out of place, and he would be the one to get scolded for not looking out for Elizabeth.
Her question further strained the nobleman’s smile. It looked painful, how forced it was.
Richard wished he knew how to endear himself to Lord Goldsborough to make things easier on him. However, Elizabeth’s question made that impossible, driving it in that Richard was the reason he would be needing to prepare a wedding as quickly as possible.
At the awkward silence that followed, Elizabeth continued, saying, “If a wedding is difficult, then why not just have a small ceremony with an official? It’ll be quick and effective…”
“That’s preposterous. A small ceremony and impersonal signing before an official would be unthinkable for the Goldsborough family. And it would be offensive when Klaude is marrying a man of such high standing.”
“I guess it would be different than what a noble family is used to… but it wouldn’t be offensive. The royals in the Silvers kingdom don’t get married like people do here in Merlynd.”
“Yes, I’m sure their wedding customs are very different.”
Richard silently prayed to his patron goddess that Elizabeth wouldn’t mention that the kings of the Silvers kingdom didn’t have marriages, just accepted consorts that would bear children that would later be legitimized by the royal court.
His prayer went unanswered. She immediately replied, “The heirs and kings don’t get married at all, though.”
“What?”
Richard tried to salvage things, “While it’s true that we don’t get married in the sense that the people of Merlynd do, we do…” He had no idea what word to use in place of taking consorts or lovers. His pause made things worse.
Elizabeth seemed to realize that she shouldn’t have brought it up, leaning in towards Richard and asking in a whisper, “Is it not good to bring up royal consorts, or…?”
“Consorts,” Lord Goldsborough repeated, aghast. “You don’t take a husband or wife?”
“Klaude will be my husband according to Merlynic law, and I will personally consider him as such,” Richard assured.
That didn’t assure his future father-in-law. “And your kingdom will consider my son and his child as…?”
He avoided answering. “Merlynic law doesn’t apply in the Silvers Kingdom. But the concept of illegitimacy is very different and has nothing to do with marriage, in my kingdom. The term ‘bastard’ has no meaning. It will not matter to the royal court or to my father whether my child is presented for acceptance the moment after naming them or even years later.”
It was clear that Lord Goldsborough wanted to ask more about that, but he refrained, instead returning to his original topic. “Regardless… what would be your preferences for the foods that will be served at the wedding?”
Richard internally groaned. He hated details. At home, the kitchen would come up with things, and a list would be submitted to his father for approval. Sometimes Richard would suggest a meal if he wanted something, but his ideas were only ever one among the many ideas put forth by the staff.
How could Klaude’s father want to micromanage everything? Still, he had no choice but to go along with the tedious conversation.
He hoped that Klaude really was busy resting and was getting plenty of good sleep. At least then it wouldn’t be so bad, wasting his time discussing wedding details he was sure wouldn’t even come to fruition because of how quickly the wedding was to be thrown together now that he’d arrived.
-
“What do you mean Richard has been here for an hour already talking to my father?” Klaude snapped at a servant. “I told my father I wanted to be alerted as soon as he knew when Richard was going to arrive or did arrive.”
“F-forgive me, Master Klaude,” the servant stammered, wilting under his harsh glare. “Lord Goldsborough asked that no one tell you nor Ezekiel until after he finished speaking with Prince Silvers and his companion.”
“His companion? Is Elizabeth Valentine not here?”
His brother looked upset, standing and bringing his hands to his chest. “Elizabeth didn’t come with Prince Silvers?”
“Please don’t be upset, Master Ezekiel. I’m sorry, Master Klaude… I don’t know who his companion is.”
“Is it Princess Ronella?” There was no one else Richard would come alone with.
“N-no! It’s not a princess. It’s a woman with strange eyes.”
Ezekiel sighed in relief while Klaude was briefly confused. “It is Elizabeth, then. Thank goodness,” his brother said with a smile.
Klaude ignored Ezekiel and demanded of the servant, “Why did my father order such a thing?”
“Lord Goldsborough didn’t say. But he looked quite unhappy, Master Klaude.”
He scoffed. “Of course Father is unhappy. I’m also unhappy about the current state of things.” Ezekiel rolled his eyes and Klaude grit his teeth, turning his sharp glare towards his brother. There was no way he would ever admit that he was anxious to see Richard and upset that their father was trying to keep them apart. I’m certainly not upset! Klaude thought. It was the principle of things. It was rude of his father to deny his future son-in-law and daughter-in-law the chance to see their fiancés after their long travel just to be with them. He turned back to the servant. “But that’s no reason to keep Richard and Elizabeth Valentine away from us. Where are they?” he asked.
Gulping, the servant told them where their father and their guests were. Klaude grabbed Ezekiel’s arm and dragged him along.
-
Richard was considering faking illness to get out of discussing wedding decorations with Lord Goldsborough. It wouldn’t be hard to fake a cough and act like he was trying to hide being in pain. He was sure Elizabeth would freak out and convince the nobleman, and he could ask for privacy while Elizabeth gave him some excess magic, then explain to the woman that he was just pretending. It would probably work, provided that Klaude had told his father about his illness. He was sure that at least Ezekiel would have mentioned it. After all, the only reason why Elizabeth hadn’t stayed with her boyfriend through his pregnancy so far was that she was in the Silvers kingdom helping him and his father recover from the major spell they had cast. Or in Richard’s case, was still casting.
As Lord Goldsborough droned on and on about what traditional Merlynd weddings had, Richard wondered if Ezekiel was upset with him for keeping Elizabeth in the Silvers Kingdom for so long. Even though she had greatly helped Richard’s father and saved Richard’s life, he thought the young mage might still resent him a bit.
Ezekiel could hate him, for all Richard cared. He was glad to no longer be dying, and relished being able to get through the night without choking on blood from a decaying throat and that he was able to eat with far less pain.
“Another thing, Prince Silvers,” Lord Goldsborough started, and Richard got ready to start coughing.
Neither of them could continue though, as a raised and angry voice barked, “Father! I told you I wanted to be there to greet Prince Silvers and Elizabeth Valentine!”
Richard snapped his head around to see Klaude pulling his brother by the arm towards the doorway. A servant was walking alongside them, worried. But Richard’s focus went straight to Klaude.
“What are you doing here, sons? I told the servants I wanted to speak privately to our guests-”
“Thank you for this blessing, my Goddess,” Richard clasped his hands together and prayed quietly. He could hardly believe his eyes.
While he’d expected Klaude to have a heavy belly and a somewhat swollen chest, he’d been using the average expectant person as a basis for his mental picture of what he imagined Klaude to look like. With Klaude being so tall and broad, he’d also imagined that while his almost due belly would be large, it wouldn’t be as prominent as it would be on a smaller, slimmer person.
Klaude, in a sweater that clung to his figure and fought to keep him covered, was huge. He waddled towards the doorway slowly, a hand hooked under his massive belly that was in no way only carrying one child. He was expecting at least hefty twins. And not only was he clearly carrying twins, but it was obvious Klaude had been indulging in more than the occasional craving for sweets that he’d complained about. He’d filled out wonderfully, all curves where he’d once been simply muscular. His overstretched clothing left nothing to the imagination.
“How could you forbid the servants from letting us even know that our fiancés had arrived? It’s not very discreet of you-”
Ezekiel waved to Elizabeth, a shy smile on his face. Elizabeth waved back.
Richard swallowed hard, drinking in how gorgeous Klaude looked. His blond hair was thick and shiny, longer than Klaude usually kept it, allowing it to look fluffier than it used to. His hips, already what Richard had teased were perfectly child-bearing size, had widened, and his ass and thighs had grown with them. He didn’t let himself think too long about what his fiancé would look like stripped naked, flushed and full and no doubt covered in stretchmarks- Richard didn’t think he could take it. It was a fight not to open his mouth and say something stupid.
“My great Goddess…” Richard murmured, seeing how Klaude’s broad pecs that had started softening six months ago had grown into a proper pair of breasts. Klaude had hated when he tried to get his mouth on them before he’d really started producing milk. Richard had a feeling the next few days were either going to be absolutely thrilling or incredibly annoying to Klaude once he got his hands on him in a private room.
He spared a look at Ezekiel. As he’d imagined, the young man sported a normal eight months pregnant belly, which stuck out obviously on his thin frame. He’d filled out somewhat, now looking healthy instead of underweight, and there was more color to his face. Elizabeth was sure to be happy, at least.
Richard looked back at Klaude. As he argued with his father, his sweater rode up a bit. He was wearing something underneath, but it still made Richard feel like he was going to burst. He grabbed Elizabeth’s arm before he could explode and make Klaude hate him. “Elizabeth,” he hissed, “-Though I was teasing you before, I really just wanted to spend time with Klaude, not immediately get my hands on him, by the Divine, Klaude is so enormous and sexy. Don’t let me say something vulgar to him.”
“Uh… um, well, don’t say that to him? Goodness, he is very big, though. It might upset him.”
“Elizabeth. I’m going to die when I get my hands on him. I’m going to die if we don’t find a private room soon so I can make up for not being around to see him transform into the divine being he is now.”
She tried half-heartedly to pull away, then sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t say those kinds of things to me. The past six months have been… something else.”
“You’re the only person I can talk to about this.”
“But you sound uncouth,” she whispered back. To herself, she lamented, “I can’t believe I got used to you talking like this when it’s not teasing. I should be embarrassed.”
Teasing! Maybe that would make her understand how he was feeling. “Come on. You know you’re going to fuck Ezekiel as soon as you’re alone.”
She blushed. “We’re saving it for marriage!”
“I don’t understand you Merlynics at all. Klaude and I will be consumed with passion until you or Ezekiel drag us out for the wedding, and then we’ll be back at it until he goes into labor. In true Silvers fashion, I won’t miss a moment of these last few days. Do you think I saw my father at all before his second consort had Ronella?”
“Prince Richard, I don’t want to hear that,” she cried quietly. “Please calm down.”
Klaude had finally gotten to the doorway, but his father was using his whole body to block him, holding onto the doorway with both hands. Seeing his fiancé even closer was maddening. After six months without him, and now this-
Richard squeezed Elizabeth’s arm tight, desperate. “Seeing Klaude so hugely pregnant is without a doubt the most arousing thing I have ever witnessed. I am utterly consumed by him right now. If I don’t get my hands on him soon I am going to be sick. I am being deprived of divinity. Elizabeth-”
“I’m sure Klaude has missed you too, but really, Prince Richard. He’s right there and he’s looking at you, please contain yourself.”
“I might just have to shove you all out of the room and take him right here. I don’t think I can wait.”
“Richard!” Klaude cried. “You are completely disgusting! I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”
Richard’s heart dropped. He turned to look at Klaude, who had paused in trying to get past his father to stand stiff and red-faced. His father looked horrified, standing aside, and Ezekiel was covering his face with his hands.
“Klaude, my love, I-”
His fiancé took a few steps forward. “Shut up! What in the world is wrong with you, saying such- such depraved things in front of my family and Elizabeth?!”
“H-how much did you hear?” It wasn’t so horrible, surely, for Lord Goldsborough and Ezekiel to hear the last bit he’d said about having sex with Klaude in the study.
“You want me to repeat it?!” Klaude snarled, fists clenched at his side. “You’re sick!”
“The, uh, seeing my brother so… hugely pregnant and it being, er, arousing. That,” Ezekiel answered.
Klaude turned to stare at his brother, humiliation on his face. He huffed and hissed, “I can’t believe I actually wanted to see you!” Then, he stormed off as quickly as his pronounced waddling gait allowed, shoving past his father and brother.
“W-wait, Klaude! I’m sorry! You just look so perfect like this!”
“I hate you!” Klaude shouted back, voice cracking, not even turning to look.
Richard tried to get up. “Klaude! Please wait!” Elizabeth grabbed him and pulled him back down before he could take off after Klaude.
“Prince Richard! Don’t make things worse,” she begged. “Take a minute to settle down.”
“Argh!” Richard yelled, slumping against the back of the couch. “I can’t believe I said all that out loud!”
Lord Goldsborough cleared his throat. “Well,” he said awkwardly, “-I’m just going to make the rest of the arrangements on my own. Ezekiel, son, I’ll be in my personal study if you or your brother need me. Prince Silvers, if you require anything, my servants are at your disposal.” With that, the nobleman took off, sighing heavily as he left the room.
Ezekiel watched him go, then turned to Elizabeth with a big smile on his face. “Beth!”
Elizabeth, finally free from Richard’s grasp, got up and hurried up to him. “Zeke! I missed you so much!” She pulled him into a hug, careful not to squeeze his belly. “Are you alright? Have you been handling things okay?”
“I’m doing well. I’ve missed you too, Beth.” His eyes grew wet. “I’m so happy to have you with me again. I loved all your letters, but it wasn’t the same as having you here… I know your work in the Silvers kingdom was very important, but I still wished you were by my side every day.”
“Oh, Zeke… I’m here now! I’m never going to leave you or the baby for so long again. I mean, unless Prince Richard starts dying or something… He’s our friend, I would help him. It wouldn’t take six months again though, now that I know what to do to help him, um…”
“O-oh, yes, of course! Um, it’s nice to see you as well, Prince Silvers,” Ezekiel said to Richard.
The prince sighed. “Just ignore me and keep going with your cute reunion, Ezekiel. Don’t worry.”
“You look upset…”
“I’ll be fine soon once I figure out how to apologize to Klaude. Pretend I’m not here.” Richard waved them off, even though he felt incredibly jealous that Elizabeth got to have such a loving reunion with her fiancé. “Did Elizabeth write to you about how she’d cry sometimes because she worried about you so much?” he prompted.
“Beth…!” Ezekiel looked up at her, eyes filling with tears. He reached up to wipe them. “S-sorry, I’ve been so emotional… Oh, but you really worried so much?”
“Y-yeah, of course!”
Richard buried his face against the couch, pulling a cushion over himself.
-
After plenty of tears, sweet stories, and lots of hugging and chaste kisses that indeed made Richard rather jealous, Ezekiel and Elizabeth turned their attention to the prince again. Ezekiel peered over the edge of the couch. Richard looked up at him from where he was laying down holding onto a pillow. Seeing Ezekiel looking at him, he thought to himself that he was very lucky to have gotten with Klaude instead of his younger brother. Ezekiel’s cherubic features and timid attitude did nothing for him.
Truly, he and Elizabeth were a perfect match. Of course, he and Klaude were also a perfect match, even if Klaude hated him sometimes.
“Hello, Ezekiel.”
“Have you thought of how to apologize to my brother yet?”
In response, Richard pulled the cushion onto his face. He heard Ezekiel whisper something to Elizabeth.
Then, Ezekiel said, “You know, Klaude has really missed you. He tried to hide it, but he’s told me how much he was looking forward to you coming back, and how worried he was about you and your illness, especially when it got worse. It really scared him.”
Richard pulled the cushion down and sat up. He gave Ezekiel a confused look. “I never told Klaude about my illness getting worse. He knew about me coughing up a little blood before my father and king called me home, but I always said I was doing well in my letters to him. I didn’t want him to worry.”
Elizabeth frowned, tapping her fingers together. “I, uh… mentioned it in my letters to Ezekiel, since I kept him updated on how things were going so we could guess when I’d be coming home.”
Ezekiel rubbed the back of his neck. “And I showed Klaude those letters.”
“Why would you do that?” Richard asked.
“I thought he deserved to know, in case…”
In case he’d taken a turn for the worse. In case he’d died. “Oh.” Richard felt guilty, now that he thought about it. What if he’d ended up like his father, in a coma? His father had woken up after a few weeks and only now thanks to Elizabeth no longer required months of bed rest, but Richard knew in his case if he had ever tried to stop casting his spell or had been forced to, that he would have never woken up. Of course, it was highly unlikely he would have been lucky enough to end up in a coma. If his illness had progressed to the point that he couldn’t cast his spell, he would have most certainly just died. Probably on the spot.
If that had happened, and Ezekiel hadn’t been telling Klaude- if he’d believed that things were always going well like Richard had been assuring in all of his letters, then him dying would have come from nowhere. It would have caused a problem, then, if Ezekiel had known but hadn’t warned his brother.
With Ezekiel telling his brother about all of Elizabeth’s updates, but with his own letters assuring that nothing was wrong, Richard wondered if Klaude had thought things were even worse than they were. If he had someone telling him Klaude was ill, but Klaude saying he wasn’t, he would suspect that Klaude was far more ill than he was being told. And with Klaude knowing that Elizabeth was a bit oblivious at times and not very good at picking up on secrets, and knowing that his brother hated to upset him, it was safe to bet that Klaude had assumed whatever Ezekiel said was at least half as bad as what was really wrong.
“By the Divine…” Richard mumbled. If Klaude had spent the past six months worrying about his health while also dealing with a twin pregnancy by himself, it was no wonder he’d reacted badly to Richard being a fool in front of him. Though it certainly wasn’t his intention, knowing how Klaude took things, his fiancé had most likely thought that he didn’t care about his feelings.
He really needed to work on letting Klaude know he really did love him, and not just physically. It was hard, though, with how excited he got being around him. He made a fool of himself and spoke like he was flirting or started saying outright vulgar things. Even in other matters, his sister and father had scolded him for sounding too sarcastic or playful or being rude.
Well, he couldn’t help that his default was being very happy all the time. Maybe he could annoy Klaude into believing him by repeating that he loved him for more than his body so many times that it would infuriate him.
“Please don’t try to talk things out with my brother by driving him crazy until he screams at you and has no choice but to give up and believe you,” Ezekiel pleaded.
“How did you-”
“Prince Richard, we know you. We’re friends. You’ve done it before. I know it works, but it stresses Klaude out. And Father and Klaude will be very upset if you stress him out too much. Klaude actually wants to have a semi-normal wedding before he gives birth.”
“So try to come up with something else, okay? Klaude is probably stressed out now…” Elizabeth added. “Do you want us to come along as support?”
“If you come along I’ll default to teasing you and Klaude will think I’m not being serious.”
“He knows you’re never serious,” Ezekiel assured. “He gets over it.”
Richard stood up and pouted. “But I want him to know I really am being serious this time!”
Elizabeth came and patted his back. “Give it a good try!”
“I will!” He headed for the door but stopped two steps out of it. He turned to Ezekiel. “Uh, where do you think Klaude is?”
“I’ll take you to his room.”
-
Ezekiel brought Richard to his brother’s bedroom door and then left with Elizabeth to his own room. Richard knocked on the door and then pushed it open. Klaude never welcomed him into a room, even if he wasn’t upset with him.
“Klaude?” he asked, stepping into the room.
There was a sniffle, and then Klaude answered, “Richard?” The man was sitting on a small sofa placed underneath a window that had its thick curtains drawn. He had a handkerchief in one hand that he was holding up to his tear-stained face. His other hand was on his heavy belly, rubbing circles against it. “What are you doing here?”
Richard forced down his shock at seeing Klaude crying. “I came to apologize for how I acted earlier.”
Klaude scoffed and looked away from him. “Of course.”
“I got too excited. I, uh, didn’t expect to see you… expecting more than one child?”
“I’m carrying twins,” Klaude confirmed. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“It was very surprising.” Richard hadn’t expected that from Klaude. The blond wasn’t fond of surprises. He set that aside for later. “I’m sorry I embarrassed and upset you. I was thrilled to see you. I’m very happy to see you again. I missed you a lot.”
“...I missed you as well.” Klaude dabbed at his eyes.
Richard went and sat next to him. With his thumb, he brushed under Klaude’s eyes. Taking Klaude’s other hand, he continued, “And I’m sorry I lied to you in my letters. I should have told you when I was ill.”
Klaude crumpled, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
Bringing up Klaude’s hand, Richard pressed his lips to it. “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know Elizabeth was telling Ezekiel everything. That he was telling you. I should have been telling you myself, so you knew exactly what was happening.”
“I- I thought you would die. Elizabeth said you might have to stop your magic, but that- And you were gone for so long. When I heard things were settled in the Silvers kingdom, but neither of you mentioned coming back…” Klaude sobbed a bit. “I thought you might not…”
“There was a point where it got so bad my father considered having me break the spell when I couldn’t breathe properly or eat at all, but Elizabeth figured out how to help, and I got better. I’m better than I’ve ever been since my illness first started.” Richard wrapped an arm around Klaude and pulled him close. Klaude rested his head against his chest. “It’s not completely healed, it won’t be unless I can somehow break the spell and sleep again. But Elizabeth healed the damage it caused, and due to reforms I could release a portion of people to lessen the spell, and with Elizabeth’s excess magic, the spell causes far less damage. There’s no more blood, and I can eat without much pain.”
Klaude made a small noise and nodded against him. Richard squeezed his hand.
“I really did miss you. It was lonely, not having you to talk to. Not being able to chip at your shell until you snap at me or I manage to make you laugh. Not being there with you for our children.” He rubbed Klaude’s belly. “I regret that I couldn't be with you for most of the pregnancy.”
“You're here. I was so scared that you wouldn’t come back to me. That's all I’ve wanted.” Klaude’s hand came to rest on top of Richard’s own. Richard kissed the top of his head, closing his eyes and relishing the weight and warmth of Klaude in his arms. It wasn't often that he got to hold him, not with Klaude’s height and usual aversion to affection. And he was enjoying it.
Klaude sighed, relaxing against him. His breathing evened out and slowed. Richard rubbed lazy circles against the side of his belly. He hoped he'd be able to touch him without any layers of clothing in the way, but he didn't want to ruin their moment.
Before he'd left, Klaude rarely wanted to cuddle with him. Now that Richard had him dozing off in his arms, he never wanted him to leave. It was wonderful. He hoped that Klaude would want more affection from then on. Maybe being pregnant and worrying about losing him would make Klaude a bit clingy.
Richard made a mental note to pray for it, and to pray that their children would enjoy extra affection as well. Though he adored Klaude and loved the challenge of breaking through his serious exterior, he wasn't sure if he had the energy to wear at two more Klaudes. While he certainly had the determination to, it might not be matched by what he was physically capable of.
The children were bound to take after him in some way, surely.
Resting his cheek against Klaude’s head, Richard exhaled and thought to himself that he was very thankful to be back with his fiancé after so long. He wasn't sure how he had managed.
He wished he could fall asleep with Klaude, but settling back and keeping his eyes closed was close enough.
Just as he relaxed, Klaude shifted and sat up. Richard opened his eyes to see that Klaude was scrubbing at his face.
“Ugh… I feel like such a mess after I cry,” Klaude grumbled. “I can only imagine how splotchy and awful I look.”
“Oh, it’s not bad,” Richard assured him. Sure, he was a bit splotchy and his eyes were puffy. But that was a given with how pale Klaude was, and Richard didn’t think it looked awful at all. The sight of him so heavily pregnant and having so obviously cried tugged at Richard’s protective instincts and made him feel guilty all over for having scared the other man so much. He wanted to wrap his arms tight around Klaude and smother him, keep him safe and happy all to himself, but let that stay a fantasy.
Instead of making Klaude upset by doing something foolish, Richard pulled out a fresh handkerchief of his own and wiped the last traces of tears from his face. Once Klaude was satisfied that he wasn’t so ‘messy,’ he leaned back against the back of the sofa and spread his legs to make room for his belly. Comfortable, he gave his belly a rub and then pulled up his sweater and the shirt he was wearing underneath it to expose his entire abdomen.
Richard bit his tongue before he could ruin anything by running his mouth again.
Klaude’s belly was flushed pink around the belly button with its tightness and covered with angry stretch marks all over. It was astonishing how Klaude’s abdomen had expanded and his skin stretched to hold their children and his new weight.
Watching Klaude rub his own belly, Richard was frozen. He didn’t want to disturb the blond, make him tug his sweater back down. As he stared, he noticed that Klaude avoided touching his popped belly button. It was probably sensitive, the prince reasoned, with how Klaude’s body seemed to be struggling to contain itself.
Glancing at Richard, Klaude seemed to notice him again and blushed, his hands stilling. “It- it feels nicer, like this.” Richard just nodded, swallowing. Klaude’s face reddened even more, but he lifted his hands and offered, “Do you want to feel-”
His hands were on Klaude before he even finished asking. His belly was warm and firm, and Richard applied just a bit of pressure to see how it felt.
“Mm- j-just be gentle, alright?”
“Will I feel them move?” Richard asked.
“They haven’t been terribly active recently… there’s not much room.”
As if to prove him wrong, Richard felt a shift under his hand and then a kick. “Oh! Hello there, little one.” He leaned forward and rested his head on Klaude’s belly. When he almost immediately felt a hand carding through his hair, he grinned like a fool. To the babies, he said, “I hope Klaude’s been telling you two good things about me. Actually, I hope he’s at least mentioned me. Even if it was just about how worried he was-”
“I was not worried,” Klaude insisted, embarrassed.
There was another shift and kick.
“Even they can tell when you’re lying, Klaude!”
“You’ve got them both riled… “
“They’re just excited to hear me.” He turned his head so he could look up at Klaude. “I’ll try not to excite them too much. Wouldn’t do to get them so excited to meet me that they come out before the wedding.”
“Exactly.” Klaude gave him a glare but then yawned.
Richard sat up. “Tired, love?”
“Always. Your children have been a menace to my sleep schedule. I’ve never taken so many naps in my life.”
Richard pulled Klaude against his chest. “How about a nap with me before dinner, then?”
“Hm, I suppose that would be nice. I’d rather not sleep on this couch, though.”
“To the bed, then.” He helped Klaude up and wrapped an arm around his waist to support him. When Klaude went to pull his sweater down, Richard caught his hand and went, “Ah-ah! I’m not done saying hello to the children just yet. We’re going to keep talking while you get some rest.”
Klaude scoffed. “I’m sure that’s your intention. But… well, just make sure it’s comfortable, my prince, or I won’t be happy when I’m exhausted.”
“I accept your challenge, my lord.”
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xoxo-nikki-xoxo · 4 years
Text
Bewitched
Elijah Mikaelson × Female Reader
Prompts number 21 22 "Tell me... if you love me or not. If not I'll leave you alone forever" and "You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love you"
Authors note: I totally based this fic off of Jane Austins Pride and Prejudice. Elijah just totally give me Mr. Darcy vibes. Sorry if you don’t understand that reference. So this fic to by best of abilities is going to be written in the time line of the late 17th century and early 18th century. FYI sorry if this sucks, i truly did try my best.
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Words cant even descried how your feelings for Elijah Mikaelson has changed in the course of only a few months. From when you first met him he was so stuck up, egotistical, and well complete and utterly rude. But it was I that was wrong about him. For Mr. Mikaelson pride might be what you see be wrong, but its for his pride that makes him unique. 
Sitting on the porch engulfed in a bool as I usual am, I received word of a visitor. For it is Miss. Mikaelson arriving by carriage.
“ Dear Miss. y/n, you must come with me at once! I know you have already received your invitation to our ball this evening, but i need if if you are not to busy. It was my wretched bother Kol! He ruined my beautiful ball gowned now i must go fetch myself a new one! With this being announced i need your assistance to help me pick out the 2nd best. And I thought well we were at is we pick out a new dress for you.”  Rebekah say as she steps out of the carriage with the help of the carriage driver.
“ O Rebekah darling you know i well help you select a new gowned. But i don’t think i can accept-” 
“ Don’t finish that sentence we are picking new dresses out and that’s final. Wheres your mother? I surly must say hello before i take you for the rest of the afternoon” she says as she makes her way up onto the porch. The Mikaelson family has been staying in New Orleans for about 6 months now. Your first glimpse of the family was of course arranged by your family, more so your mother then father. But that’s when your friendship with the youngest Mikaelson truly took off. Of course by the moment you where introduced to Niklaus, Elijah and Kol, you were taken back by the pride the men in the family. More so Elijah then the others. Niklaus was the most polite, asking for your hand in the first dance, Kol was nice ,but excused himself the moment he had the chance. For some reason i just could never truly get Elijah out of my mind. His character was so not normal it was brain wrecking. Not saying hello at first but only making slight comments during conversations with other people.
“ okay fine, but only because you said so. Ma is probably in the drawing room tending to my younger sister” you stand up politely bowing to Rebekah as you two make your way into the house for a simple hello and goodbye.
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“ Oh dear y/n! That is the one!! The blush pink color is your color, and if my foolish brother, Elijah doesn't make a gesture tonight well ill have to simple slap him myself because you are going to look stunning tonight” Rebekah says standing up clapping when you came out of the dressing room in this beautiful pink dress.
“ Rebekah!”
“O don’t Rebekah me! I know you fancy my brother, don’t worry love he fancies you too.”
“ Well he has a terrible way of showing it” You turn to face the mirror admiring yourself in this dress. If it wasn't for Rebekah being who she is you would have never dared to step into this dress. the waist fitting perfectly around you, the top showing off slight cleavage ,but not enough where it became inappropriate. The dress was everything and perfect.
“ My poor oldest brother... He has an odd way of showing his feelings to anyone outside of the family. So don’t be so uptight, and trust me when i say he truly dose have his eyes set on you” Rebekah smiles going over to me for a quick hug.
“ Now enough of this talking, we still have to figure out a dress for me!”  She adds. I simple smile bowing slightly before i make my way back to the dressing room to take the dress off. once it is off i make my way back into the fitting area sitting down where Rebekah had once sat waiting my dress reveal. After 4 different dresses she finally comes out.
“ This is it, this dress if the one. Hope fully this well catch the eye of the governors son” Rebekah says smiling as she comes out twirling in her dress with her ever so perfect smile.
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“ Your out of your sense, the poor governors boy has been totally bewitched by you. If its anyone stopping him from coming forward its your brothers, they would probably kill the poor soul before he could even say Rebe-” you tease giggling as she threw some gloves at you.
“ I cant believe you would stoop to the level of throwing my crazy brothers in my face like that” Bek’s says causing you to giggle even more.
“ Well I think that dress makes you look ravishing, I think its best we get heading to your estate where well finish getting ready” You say standing up to help her with the dress.  
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“ Ah welcome Miss. Y/N i see my lovey sister has been torturing you with gown shopping” Niklaus says smiling at me with his lips as he greets both me and Rebekah at the fount door to their gorgeous estate.
“ Good evening to you too Mr. Mikealson. And it wasn't tortures at it, it was quite lovely actually. Rebekah and I both picked out new ball gowns for the ball that’s coming up in a short few hour”
“ ah yes speaking of that ball we must start getting ready too. Don’t be such a bloody wanker either Nik, us girls just want to have fun that’s all. Plus if maybe you smile more often there would be more women that would like to dance with you”
“ Oh course well my apologize sister, but would if it be alright with you Miss.y/n if i have a quick word with my youngest sister. She well be right there to accompany you with getting ready” and with a simple bow and curtsy both were off to the den to talk privately. I have curtsy back as i headed up the grand stair case to the fitting room I've grown to be so accustomed too. This house, this marvelous house.. My poor mind, it wonders to where he might be. He has to be in this house somewhere. 
As i descend upon the stairs i can hear footsteps, my heart beat picking up at the anticipation of being able to see the noble man of the house, Elijah.               “ good evening, Miss. y/n. I wasn't expecting any visitors so early before the party” Elijah say, i must have caught him off guard with my appearance.
“My apologizing for catching you off guard Mr. Mikaelson.. You dear sister invited me here earl to help her get ready for today's event” i bow as soon as i start my sentence.
“ Well it seems as though I’m the one who needs to apologizes, Forgive me” He says taking my hand gently into his giving it a soft kiss before leaving me to the room I was headed too. Of course my interaction with Elijah made me blush as i walk to the room being escorted by one of the many helpers around the house, the lady was carrying both Rebekah and I’s dress.
“ Sorry about that little interruption, I had to inform Niklaus about someone i heard conspiring against us. You understand. Now enough of that lets get ready for this ball!” Rebekah announces once she comes into the room where i was awaiting her. I smile nodding, but the only imagine i have in my head is of Elijah. More importantly his lips on my hand. O those soft pink lips, i wish to have them on me all the time.
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The ball is as exquisite as i could have ever imagine it. Being involved with such a high social rank as the Mikaelson family is such a privilege to my family and I. For right now i am currently in a conversation with both Rebekah, Niklaus and well of course my father. 
“ You must excuse us Mr. y/l/n its time for the toast” Niklaus says nodding slightly to my father as he leads Rebekah up the stairs to where the other sidings reside. Of course I make eye contact with Elijah causing a blush to spread across my face. He warm smile to me cause the blush to deepen
“ During times like this its truly time to celebrate family and friend its especially gratifying in times when treachery run deep to know you have someone you can trust. A toast to you, my sister, to Rebekah.” Klaus announces raising his champagne glass as we toast. I smile watching confused at first when i see Kol turn a whiter shade of white before he runs off. Niklaus must have been speaking of Kol in his foreshadowing of his speech. As speechless as everyone was I truly wasn't, knowing who the family is it comes to be no surprise when i watch Nik and Elijah corner Kol
“Apologizes ladies and gentlemen for it wouldn't be a Mikaelson party without a little family drama” Nik announces and in one swift movement shoving a silver dagger into kols heart. I flinch of course, turning away heading to the door to get some fresh air. Stepping out to the cool breeze of the night is refreshing. The moon and stair are shining bright.
“ Forgive me, Miss. Y/n, but may I accompany you on a late night walk” Its his voice, there’s no need to ask who it is talking to me. Hes holding his hand out to me, so of course i accept. 
“ It would be a shame if i said no wouldn’t it?” I respond smiling turning to face him putting my small hand into his ever so large one.
“ You have to know that what you witness a few minutes ago i wish i would not have to done in the eyes of the public.” our stroll begins as we walk threw the garden they have out front.
“ no need for apologizing, though it was a shame to see...” I simple respond holding onto his arm as we walk
“ I must confess something to you though Miss. Y/N, We’ve both been feeling a certain way for each other and i must say it out load before it eats me alive *Stops walking as he puts his hand on your cheek* I l- I love you Y/N.  Tell me... if you love me or not. If not I'll leave you alone forever" as hes confessing i cant help but smile, hes so perfect. His face, him himself must have been sculpted from the gods and he love me. Me? 
“ Elijah, I have loved you sense the day we meet, you have bewitched me body and soul, and i- i- i love you. There’s a reason why i kept coming back... it was for you” and with that we share our first kiss. His lips soft, the smell of nutmeg running nose filling me up. The kiss its passionate, full of all the unspoken words we have yet to tell each other. Pulling away just enough so we both can catch our breath. Our foreheads resting up against each other as we enjoy this moment.
“ I have been waiting for your kiss forever” He whispers softly as he leans in again to engulf me in another perfect kiss
“ Finally you two confuses your feelings, only took you both almost a year” Rebekah shouts out cause me to giggle into the kiss i share with him.
He chuckles hearing his sister remarks “ I must say, you look quite beautiful this evening y/n” Elijah says smiling softy as he tucks a lose piece of hair behind my face.
////// I hope I did this fic the justice it deserves. It was totally Pride and Prejudice inspired hence the reason its so formal and well oldish sounding... lol well hope you guys enjoyed!
xoxo nikki ///////
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mycupoffanfiction · 4 years
Text
It Has Always Been You
George Weasley x Reader
Summary: The twins want to teach the Reader to play Quidditch, but her secret fear of heights, coupled with her feelings for George presents an interesting flying lesson.
Warnings: Slight fear of heights, shed loads of fluff, stupid humour, kissing.
Word count: Approx 2500
Masterlist
A/N: Hi loves, I’ve tried my best to edit this, I’m not sure that I did a very good job, but hey 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’m so proud of this one, I loved writing this so much, I hope you enjoy it! I combined two requests for this, both of them were extremely similar and I thought they could be combined to be a good story, so @dark-academics-and-florals​ & @megantje123​, I hope you like what I did with your requests, thank you so much for requesting! 💖
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You had accidentally let slip the night before that you had never really played Quidditch and it had set in motion a full plan from the twins to get you on a broom. They couldn’t believe it, it seemed ridiculous to them that a well practiced witch such as yourself had barely even touched a broom since the first year of Hogwarts.
You had partially agreed to try playing Quidditch just because you knew you would never hear the end of it if you had said no. A small part of you was sure that perhaps they would understand if you told them why exactly it was that you avoided riding a broom at all costs, though a greater portion of your mind was far too afraid to even admit it to yourself, let alone to your two friends and you were most certain you’d be unable to admit it to George especially.
The three of you were out on the Quidditch pitch during a free period when no one else was around, geared up with some broomsticks and the trunk that housed the balls used for Quidditch. “I’m not sure I’ll be very good at this.” You muttered. “You’ll do great.” George patted you on the back. “That’s right, we are your teachers after all.” Fred winked at you, making you giggle softly and shake your head.
“I just mean,” You paused, shoving the confession of your fear of heights back and fabricating something on the spot. “I don’t really remember how to actually… Fly.” “‘Course you do, what’s that muggle saying again, George? The one about bicycles.” Fred asked. “It’s like riding a bike.” George replied. “Yeah that’s the one, it’s like riding a bike, you have ridden a bike before, haven’t you?” Fred asked. “Of course I haven’t ridden a bike before.” “Fantastic, you’ll be just fine.” Fred grinned and patted your shoulder before pushing off the ground sharply and flying up over the pitch with ease.
“Right, it’s just like riding a bike.” You muttered, somewhat sarcastically to yourself as George stood at your side. You couldn’t believe you’d just been given muggle advice from a wizard who had likely never even ridden a bike before, or if he had, it was probably charmed to fly.
“George, I um- what if I fall?” You asked sheepishly, barely able to look at him. George looked at you and slowly reached out to grip your shoulder, dipping his head slightly to try and catch your eye contact. It was foolish to think that your best friend hadn’t noticed how nervous you were, especially when you could barely look at him. “I won’t let you fall, love. But if you somehow do, I’ll catch you.” George spoke softly to you as you met his gaze.
“Promise?” You asked. “Promise.” George smiled, trailing his fingers down your arm and giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.
Looking up at him, you felt your cheeks warm at the contact, your fingers gently wrapping around his hand. You would be lying if you had told yourself that you didn’t have a crush on George, you always had, not that you were going to admit that to him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” George asked softly and you instantly went wide eyed, unsure what he was referring to. “Say anything about what?” You asked far too quickly. “About being afraid of heights, silly.” George smiled. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t think I’d forget the first year of school. And the way you looked at me and Fred like you just discovered we were actually triplets when we asked if we could teach you to play Quidditch.”
“Are you triplets?” You asked, George snorting out a laugh. “Don’t change the subject, love.” George smirked. “Oh don’t act like you asked me politely, the pair of you bothered me about it until I agreed.” You raised a brow at him. “I’m sorry, love.” George apologised, sincerity in his voice as he spoke.
“Are you two coming or not?” Fred called down to you both, though George just ignored his brother. “Look, I know this is scary, riding a broom isn’t for everyone, but will you give me a chance to show you how fun it can be?” George asked. “Will you let me fly you around for a bit? And then you can decide for yourself whether you want to learn to play, yeah?” He suggested, patting the back of his broom.
Staring at his broom for a second, you swallowed nervously and glanced up at George while you considered it. You supposed it would be better if you didn’t have to worry about controlling a broom while you got used to being above the ground and it gave you a chance to be closer to George. If anything else, his broom looked more comfortable than the old, gnarled broom you’d been loaned from the school broom shed.
“Alright.” You nodded, George smiling as he held out his hand to help you dismount your broom so you could move over to his. Climbing onto the back of his broom, you wound your arms around his waist and perhaps you were a little bit closer than you needed to be, though George wasn’t about to admit that he secretly loved it, feeling you against him.
Gently, he gripped your hand as he looked over his shoulder at you. “I’ve got you, love.” He reassured you with a sweet smile.
He gave you a moment before he pushed off the ground and the pair of you lifted up into the air. You kept your eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds, not even registering that your grip around his waist had tightened slightly.
“It’s alright, love, we’re just hovering now.” George told you. “Look straight ahead and you’ll be just fine, but you know you can tell me to bring you back to the ground at any time, alright?” He assured you. “Mhm.” You hummed, slowly pushing yourself to open your eyes and you took a deep breath in as you looked ahead, trying hard not to let yourself look down. “Ready for a little tour of the Quidditch pitch?” George asked as you watched Fred fly around the house stands before looping between the Quaffle ring posts. “Yeah, I think so.” You nodded, loosening your grip on George, only for a moment because as soon as he started to fly forwards, you let out a slight squeal and clung to him again, eliciting a soft chuckle from him.
The first few minutes of your lap of the Quidditch pitch was uncomfortable. You didn’t know where to look or what to concentrate on that wasn’t the ground below and the lurch of your stomach when you felt the broom tilt as you went around corners. “You’re alright, just breathe deep, love.” George reminded you a couple of times. And after a few minutes, you became used to the movements and the feelings of being in the air and what had been absolutely terrifying, suddenly seemed so freeing and calm. The feeling of the air flowing through your robes was refreshing and the view of the school as George brought you a little bit higher up was certainly worth it.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” George asked, turning the broom so that you could both get a good view of Hogwarts. “Yeah, it is.” You smiled.
“It helps to find something to focus on when you’re flying.” George explained as he flew you back down to the ground. “What do you focus on?” You asked, an edge of curiosity to your voice as George took in a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder at you.
“Well, you see, my best friend is always in the stands, so I focus on her.” He winked at you and you giggled, sinking against his back as you became shy.
“I thought I was your best friend.” Fred cut in, feigning hurt as George lowered you both to the ground, his brother in earshot of the conversation. “Yeah, well she’s my best girl friend.” George rolled his eyes. “Girlfriend?” Fred teased as your feet touched the ground. “Mate, shut up.” George laughed, shaking his head. You felt a little pang in your heart, wishing you weren’t just the girl best friend, wishing you were more to George than that. But perhaps being his best friend was better than not being close with him at all.
The twins began to teach you some of the ins and outs of Quidditch, how to throw a Quaffle properly, and only briefly letting a Bludger near you, Fred quickly smacking it away from you and locking it back in the box when you had almost fallen off your broom in panic. “Don’t worry, Bludgers are nasty blighters at the best of times.” George chuckled, trying to make it slightly less embarrassing than it already had been.
“I’m off, I’ll take these back to Hooch and then I’m going to find Angelina, enjoy your time with your girl ‘friend’, Georgie.” Fred told his brother, saying the word friend in air quotes. George snorted and shook his head. “I’m serious, you should tell her how you feel.” Fred told him as he nodded in your direction before he reached down to pick up the trunk of Quidditch gear. “Nah mate, not sure she’d feel the same.” George sighed, watching you as you inspected some of the little details of George’s Quidditch broom.
“Trust me, she’s head over heels, Georgie.” Fred grinned, gently shoving his shoulder before giving you a quick nod and a wave. “See ya later.” And then it was just you and George.
Shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, George looked over at you, considering what his twin had said. He could keep hiding it, but honestly, he loved the way you reacted to his teasing and flirting and George just wanted to do that without filtering himself, he wanted to kiss you, push you up against a wall after class in a little alcove and make out with you. He wanted to cuddle with you and tell you how beautiful and sweet and wonderful he thought you were without worrying about whether he was crossing any lines in your friendship.
Meeting your eyes, his smile was accompanied with a charming confidence you had rarely seen on him before, reminiscent to one that Fred wore when he was around his girlfriend, Angelina.
“Are you still afraid of flying?” George asked as he approached, standing a bit closer to you than usual and you backed up against George’s broom that had been left floating behind you. Looking up at George, you faltered slightly, he had the sweetest smile, but there was a hint of mischievousness and you loved it. “Not as much as I thought I would be.” You answered, voice soft, coming out quieter than you had expected.
“I um- I took your advice, I found something to concentrate on while I was flying.” You admitted. George smirked, shifting on his feet slightly. “Tell me, I’m curious.” He said, watching as you nervously wrung your fingers together, knowing you had wanted to tell him, but you hadn’t actually thought about how nerve wracking it would be to say it out loud. “It’s you.” It has always been you, you thought. “I mean, that I focused on.” You clarified, watching as George’s smirk faltered and he broke out into a huge grin.
“You make me feel like I can-.” You struggled to get your feelings out, the words stuck in your throat and you paused for a moment longer than you wanted and you shifted awkwardly, shoulders tensing with worry. “Like you can do anything? Because that’s how I feel when I look at you, love.” George spoke softly, stunning you into silence, your eyes meeting his, the words taking a second to reach you.
You tried to muster a response, but all you could do was nod, though it was the only reply George needed and he shared a beautiful, genuine smile with you that reached his eyes.
“I love you.” He blurted out. “I love you and I’ve been trying to tell you for years, love.” George admitted, the words spilling out before he could even stop himself and he nervously watched you for a moment, biting his lip in anticipation. A comfortable silence followed, eyes softening, your expression relaxing, shoulders loosening as you reached out for his hands, pulling them out of his trouser pockets to hold them in yours.
“I love you too, I think I always have.” You spoke quietly, though you were unable to keep the smile off your lips, your eyes bright with a love that mirrored the similar glow he held in his own gaze.
“Oh love,” George whispered, reaching up to gently smooth his thumb over your cheek, holding you so carefully as his other hand rested on your hip, bringing him closer. “We have a lot of feelings to catch up on.” He said, feeling emotions rush through him, elated, heartwarmed, but almost tearful with pure, heartfelt joy that his best friend, the person that he had always felt as if there was no one else comparable, loved him the way he loved you.
“We most certainly do.” You let out a soft laugh as you leaned into his touch, savouring the way it felt to be treasured by the person you had longed to see you the way you saw him for so long.
Leaning in, George closed the gap between you, his lips gentle against yours, pausing for a moment. You reached up, hands resting on his shoulders as you kissed him. George’s touch was gentle and tender, making you melt under him and you couldn’t help but let out a soft hum as you slowly moved your lips against his.
He loved the feeling of you against him, of your lips on his. George loved that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you, he loved that he could finally do all of the things he had longed to do. All of the nights he had spent, wondering how you felt, all of those dry lessons he had spent wondering how you saw him.
But now George knew that you loved him.
And he knew that he loved you with his whole heart.
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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years
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*pokes head in through your door* Did someone request OC asks? :D
How did your Warden react to Zevran’s failed attempt on their life? Were they amused? Angry?
Did Alistair’s parentage surprise your Warden? How did your Warden’s feelings on the nobility affect their relationship with Alistair?
How did your Warden respond to Wynne’s comments if your Warden romanced someone? Did they tell her it was love or that the relationship was purely physical?
Did your Warden believe that Leliana was telling the truth about her vision from the Maker or were they skeptical?
How did your Warden speak to Sten? Did they fight with him often or were they more humorous in their responses?
How did your Warden react to Loghain’s fierce love for his daughter? Did they share a strong sense of loyalty to their own family?
*whips my head around smiles* That's meeeee! The OC asker in the flesh! Or well, digital. But, pah! 'Tis I! >:D
*rubs hands together* Let's do this! I've itching to share more of Elise, so thank you so much! X3
How did your Warden react to Zevran's failed attempt on their life? Were they amused? Angry?
Gonna be completely honest, Elise found it amusing. XD
At first.
She's lived her entire life in the Circle, a dismal cage with gilded bars. When she was conscripted, Elise looked at the world around her and went, 'I love it. I love it.' Tomes and stories that told of grand assassinations, trysts, and all manner of political intrigue were riveting to a mind that only knew stone walls and high, unreachable windows. So, when Elise found herself apart of an attempted assassination, a Crow assassination no less? Her heart sped up, her palms turned sweaty with excitement, and her magic sparked to life with more ease than she had ever thought herself capable of.
Obviously, when faced with Zevran after the fact, questions and answers holding dark shadows, Elise snapped out of her romanticizing. She saw that pretty bound books and an author's 'personal' representation of events they knew nothing about was merely fantasy; they weren't true, they weren't idyllic. They were cold. They were hard. They were just veneer to paint over the atrocity of war and power-mongering. People suffered for what she found so enthralling, and Zevran's attack, and later his past, makes her realize that she is truly naive of a world that she claims she loves.
Elise knew nothing about the outside world. Just like those authors knew nothing of the suffering of the people caught in the crossfire of war--those that had to do ungodly things just to survive.
Did Alistair’s parentage surprise your Warden? How did your Warden’s feelings on the nobility affect their relationship with Alistair?
Alistair's lineage did surprise Elise somewhat. However, in Ostagar, when she had met Cailan, and then went on to meet Alistair, something...stuck. There was a resemblance; Elise could see it in the faces of two seemingly different men. Cailan and Alistair don't look exactly alike, of course, but there are a few characteristics that made Elise pause while speaking to Alistair and go, 'Where have I seen the slope of his nose before?' or 'If his hair was just a shade lighter, he would be..' So, when Alistair finally shares the truth of his birthright, Elise takes it in relative stride, but it also makes her heart sink a bit.
By Redcliffe (in my play-through at least), Elise is beginning to development feelings for Alistair. She finds his presence comforting, his views refreshing, his resolve endearing, and his gentle awkwardness lovable. He's been with her since the beginning, when she was mildly frightened and unsure of a cage with no bars, but still a cage due to what she was; a mage. Alistair saw that, knew what she was, and still, he treated her like an equal--reaching out when nightmares took her, offering her a witty quip or a playful smile to try and lift her back up from the mud, and reassuring her she wasn't alone in this long and bloody task of their's.
Alistair treated Elise as a person, and Elise offers that same kindness when he reveals his connection to the throne. However, she can see the warmth in his eyes fade a little upon telling her, a crooked, wry smile replacing the jovial air of another, and Elise knows that Alistair knows.
She's a mage and he, a king. There is no happy ending in store for them, but love is as persistent as it is fleeting, and they fall into each other's orbit despite the pain it later brings them both.
How did your Warden respond to Wynne’s comments if your Warden romanced someone? Did they tell her it was love or that the relationship was purely physical?
Elise was kind of belligerent, not going to lie. It's actually the first time I envision that hardened side of her beginning to shine through.
When Wynne points out the fact that she and Alistair are both Wardens, and that he's the son of a king destined to follow in those heavy footsteps, it only succeeds in bringing those painful fears to the fore and reasserting to Elise that she can't be happy because of what she is. This conversation happens after the Broken Circle quest, so Elise is still haunted by those horrors of a home sundered, and most of all, Cullen and his words towards her. So, two sources have said to her, 'You can't have this because of what you are.', and that tears into Elise's slowly hardening heart. She knows her duty, she knows what she is and she's proud of it, and Elise believes that shouldn't bar her from what others are freely given.
"I am a mage. I am a Warden." Elise spat, fists clenching and unclenching sporadically as she glared into the elderly mage before her. "But, I'm also a woman--a person, Wynne. I have feelings, and I won't sweep those aside just because you think it's best, because the 'world' somehow suddenly demands it!" Magic tingled at her finger tips, sparks latching onto tiny energy nodes of the Fade as her hands began to shake. "I care for Alistair. I want to see him happy because this world hasn't let him be so! So...so, fuck your concern and wisdom! I have choices, Alistair has choices, and if that's irresponsible to you, then leave because my heart won't change. No matter what pain it could bring me!"
Did your Warden believe that Leliana was telling the truth about her vision from the Maker or were they skeptical?
Now, I think I've mentioned that Elise is somewhat religious. She believes in the Maker and Andraste, but like Dorian says in Inquisition, she doesn't believe in the Chantry's rhetoric.
In regards to Leliana's vision, the magically curious side of Elise comes out and she ponders if the vision was the work of it. She doesn't outright ask Leli that, knowing that it would probably be rebuffed or met with a, 'I'm...not sure.', but it lingers in the depths of her mind and Elise tries to do some research into similar occurrences, to no avail. All Elise knows is that Leliana finds strength and hope in what she saw, so she doesn't challenge it and spoil it with practical applications. After all, the nature of faith is shaped by the unknown, and Elise always did like a good mystery. So, even if she didn't completely believe it herself, Elise knows what it meant to Leliana to have that warmth long denied by a Chantry brazier.
How did your Warden speak to Sten? Did they fight with him often or were they more humorous in their responses?
Elise was fascinated by Sten. She had only read of the Qunari in the few meager tomes she could find--most struck from the records by the Chantry due to 'heresy'. So, when at camp, Elise took the time to learn from the stoic man. She asked questions, listened to his answers, sat, mouth agape at some of the more profound stories Sten would opt to share, and soaked it up like a sponge. Elise would challenge some viewpoints of Sten's, those concerning mages and the general people of Ferelden, but mainly because she wanted to hear his side. Elise was eager and undeterred by Sten's brusque, aloof, and outwardly annoyed demeanor. She just saw a person--a person who she could learn from. And I think Sten responded well to that curiosity and open-mindedness, even if he didn't show it all that well.
How did your Warden react to Loghain’s fierce love for his daughter? Did they share a strong sense of loyalty to their own family?
So, to start, Elise doesn't remember her family very well. She was taken to the Circle at young age, barely able to remember how she even came to the tower. But, her found family is everything to her and she would die, be tortured, and branded every manner of beast if it kept them safe.
And I'm not lying when I say that Loghain's love for Anora, and she for him, was what made Elise want to spare him.
In that moment, as the teyrn knelt upon the floor before her, sword limp, eyes downcast with all manner of emotion, and blood dribbling from wounds she had managed in a duel unnecessary, unfair, Elise didn't see a traitor, a murderer of Wardens and kings, or even a man whose sense of duty had been so warped that it led him astray.
No, she saw none of that. Instead, she saw a father--a father of both daughter and country.
Elise drew her lips tight, tasting the salt of her sweat and a hint of iron. Her hand shook upon the hilt of her sword, suddenly feeling too heavy, too much as she continued to keep it trained upon the defeated man. All eyes were upon her, their gazes like wildfire and bramble--burning, piercing, anticipating. Yet, she could not move. She could not do it.
She could not take a father from his child! She could not! Not when it wasn't necessary! Not when the Queen had asked, pleaded with tears in her blue eyes for a way out of this foolishness, for an end to the constant suffering! There was a way! There was!
"I--", Elise began, as shaky as her arm that brandished a sword instead of a staff. The tremors increased as the wildfire upon her back blazed, and her grip faltered, sword plummeting to the ground with a harsh clang. "I...won't kill you. I accept your surrender. I accept."
There were gasps and whispers of disbelief, but she blocked them out as tired eyes traveled from that abandoned weapon to her face, searching, seeking, and quietly suspicious. But, before any words could be uttered between them or explanations could be voiced, there was a shout--a familiar, but dreaded shout of anger, of disbelief, of betrayal most foul. One word. Just one, and it was sharper than her sword that lay upon the ground, coated with blood of thought up foes.
"What!?"
----
*drags hand down in front of my face in an elaborate fashion* And scene!
Thank you so much, friend! I hope you like the answers even if they are a tad long! :D
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streets-in-paradise · 4 years
Text
Fictional Sibling relationships i live for
I had been thinking about this topic lately and decided i would like to make a post about it because it is a very fun and interesting one for me. I had mentioned a few times here that in terms of fandom involvement i am more invested in family and frienships than in shippings, particulary i have a fixation with strong sibling bonds or sibling like friendships. I think it must be because i have a strong bond with my younger sister, i identify with that and that’s why i tend to get more involved and interested in this sort of character interactions. 
I will keep this just in movies, movie adaptations of books and tv shows because i don’t want it to be super long but still want to talk. In movie adaptations i will try to stay in movie’s territory as much as i can, if i add commentary on the book versions this would never end but i may slip a bit towards it because i can’t help it. 
As always, i make the disclaimer over the images i will use here, they belong to the sites where i found them.  
Sorry for my pathetic language skills in english. 
Note: this got so long that i will probably make a second part for more characters i coulnd’t include 
Boromir and Faramir in lotr 
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Lotr is full of great material for people who, like me, obsess over families. Frodo and Bilbo, Merry and Pippin, Elrond and Arwen, Theoden ,Eowyn and Eomer are other great examples of family relationships i’m interested on from here ( i pretty much love to overthink stuff about almost all the lotr family relationships). I choose to talk about this bros because they have a particular place in my heart. How many times we had seen the common trope of a royal or noble family where the father is a dick who gives all his love and attention to the older brother, neglects the little one causing him to grow up resentfull and ending up as a villian while dad’s favourite is the hero of the tale? Not this time, and it is so refreshing. 
Boromir and Faramir choose each other over their father’s bullshit, you can see it in the lovely deleted scene the gif up here comes from. When Denethor shows up they are both annoyed, when he is mean to Faramir Boromir calls him out and tries so hard to make him show some appreciation for his youngest son. it is clear that, in this version, Boromir is more family to Faramir than his father ever was. I love how much they care for each other, how they pass beyond the differences. Boromir is a super amazing big bro, i love how he protects Faramir and is there for him instead of letting his father’s praise get in between. I could talk for hours about this two because i love them so much. I’m doing a hard effort in stopping myself from throwing a whole set of headcanons i have for them so i will stop now before i get too excited. 
Fili and Kili in The Hobbit
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Staying in Middle Earth for one more mention i had to talk about this two. Being fully honest, the movies broke my heart because they took the exact opposite way i would had wished for. When they were introduced In An Unexpected Journey this two adorable brothers were one of my favourite aspects of it because i loved their Merry and Pippin like dumb chaotic energy. One of my biggest complains with the Hobbit adaptation is to have shifted the narrative of the strongly family focused story arc of the Line of Durin. Kili’s romance with Tauriel shifted the focus and, in my particular perspective, i hated that because i was already super involved in the family story. Besides from the “I belong with my brother”  iconic line we don’t see much more of Fili and Kili’s bond after the introduction of Tauriel. In fact, Fili loses a lot of his initial screentime in Desolation of Smaug and Battle of the Five Armies.
 I love this two, the relationship with their uncle as it was introduced in the first film and i would had loved to see more of their family dinamic explored. One of my biggest complains, besides from the change of focus on their supposed ending, is that i’m convinced that they should had entered the mountain with the rest of the company. It is such an important moment they would probably waited for since they were children, is the legacy of their family. In short terms, i love them and i would had loved to keep seeing future developments of the Line of Durin story they had in AUJ. 
Hector and Paris in Troy 
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This two represent the opposite case. The relationship they have in this movie is very different from the source material but i love the great development it has here. It is outstanding to see the importance the sibling bond has in a movie that is supposed to be about a war caused by a romantic passion. 
The sons of King Priam are absolute opposites. Hector is the embodiment of a true hero, a Steve Rogers of ancient times. His strong caring nature and will to protect everyone reminds me of Boromir as well. Unlike Faramir,Paris is a freaking mess. He is the careless, adventurous and reckless little brother Hector ends up protecting every single time he gets into trouble. I had stated before that i think Paris is a selfish prick but i think that is a slight confussion of mine with the original. This Paris is more a reckless dumbass and, unlike Iliad Paris, his arc in the movie it’s a bit more simpathetic. In this version Helen is trapped in a loveless marriage to an old prick who treats her like trash (in the director’s cut Menelaus jokes about how he only cares for his wife for breeding purposes on a conversation with Hector). I can understand at some point that, if he trully fell in love with her, he felt horrible for letting her stay there as a prisoner of her husband. Going back to the my focus for this talk, i like that the movie had decided to make this two close brothers who actually care for each other despite being absolute opposites instead of two guys who barely know each other, are barely aware of being brothers and share only hatefull interactions. 
Hector’s protectiveness over Paris warms my heart. He had threated him a few times ( director’s cut has the “ i will rip off your pretty face from your pretty skull” excharge. I love that scene), he gets furious at him for his foolishness, they argue but when the time comes he always chooses to protect him. Honestly, that’s such a big bro thing, i can’t help to feel identified. The weight that this relationship has in the development of the story is a surprising thing and it makes everything more tragic. Paris being the killer of Achilles has a more significant meaning because, now it’s not just the irony of the weakest character killing the strongest. Paris is aware that he owns the memory of his fallen brother so much, he wants revenge. Hector was there for him all his life, the least he can do for him is to kill his killer and avenge his death. Briseis begs him to stop but he can’t let himself do that, he owns it to Hector and that debt is bigger than anything. 
I will not delay this any longer, the family relationships on this movie are my favourite aspect of it and i have a soft spot for the bond between the trojan princes. Don’t get surprised if i one of this days i end up making an entire separate post talking about the family dinamics displayed in the film (same goes for lotr but that would take me ages and i would have to make an entire series of posts if i wanted to discuss every lotr family relationship i would want to talk about). 
Sam and Dean Winchester in Supernatural 
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If you reached this point you may had noticed that i have a big thing with family tragedies involving siblings. Supernatural is my favourite show because it combines lots of elements i love. To mention just a few: horror, mythology,classic rock and a strong family approach in its pretty tragic but outstanding plot. 
Sam and Dean are one of my favourite duo of bros of all time. I don’t think i have a lot to say about them because their relationship has been analized lots of times by the very big fanbase of the show. My main difference with the common interpretation is that i don’t see the Winchester family in a similar way to the movie versions of the Steward of Gondor and his sons, which means i don’t think John has been the shittiest father ever despite his many mistakes. Unlike movie Denethor he tried hard and in the interactions we saw of him with his boys he actually cares for both of them. 
This bros were the ones that made me realize in an actual concient way of my tendency to get too attached to families, story arcs regarding them and sibling love. I’m super attached to this story, i don’t know what the hell i’m going to do with my life once it ends. 
I will end this post here. It is more than sure that there would be a part two because i have tons of more brothers,sisters and other family relationships to talk about. 
Thanks to everyone who has read my very long ramble 
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timetraveller29 · 3 years
Text
At Last
A Doctor Who fanfiction for #WhouffleWeek2020
Day 4 - Coat, outerwear / Food
Featuring the Thirteenth Doctor and Clara
The Doctor was working on a problem that had plagued her for not just days but weeks now. She danced around the console, from tweaking measurements one side to dials on the other, glanced at the displays, grimaced, then changed something yet again. It was proving difficult at the very least. She stopped and exhaled.
Maybe she should stop bothering about it.
But she couldn't help it.
It was so hard to be alone! And she adored her new TARDIS team, sure, but they didn’t know her. They didn't understand the darkness of her past, and if they knew, they'd probably leave her... just like so many companions had left her. And then there were others she had left behind...
The Doctor missed all of her friends with a burning constancy. Bill Potts, Missy, even Nardole! And she knew it was foolish to hope to find any of them, but there was a slight possibility that there was one person she could meet.
On second thought? Maybe it did make sense to give up.
She turned around slowly, boredly, expecting to see that same result she’d grown used to... null. Nothing. Zero. A blank space, and then she’d have to start all over again with a new plan...
Wait!
A wild, crazy grin grew on her entire face, a grin that popped at the eyes and wrinkled her nose.
“Yes,” she whispered. Then, louder and louder: “Yes, yesss, YESSS!”
And she prepared the TARDIS, pressing a number of buttons, turning dials, entering coordinates, until she finally gripped the lever in her hand. At last, long last! She felt the power course through her veins as she held off for a mere second, relishing what she was about to do. And down went the lever with a satisfying, resounding thrum from the engines...
She was off.
“So! Where to, next?” Ashildr said, in a distant and second-hand set of dimensions.
The room was white and blaring. They hadn’t been able to change the desktop theme yet. The manual hadn’t been particularly helpful, and it made Clara understand why most of the time the Doctor preferred to steer through trial and error...
“I don’t know,” she said to her, standing up and staring at the vision screens. One of them showed a rolling peach coloured ocean at a pearly white coast, one of the most gorgeous planets they’d visited in their travels. They didn’t get into nearly as much trouble as the Doctor would, though. That was heartening, what with her delicate... health... She placed a hand on her wrist, subconsciously looking for a pulse again. It had become a bad habit. She noticed, and scratched her ear instead. “Maybe we’ll just... Stay here for a while... We could just have a stroll, look at the view, and have a swim in the eveneing! Who knows what we'll find? And we could always leave the next adventure till tomorrow.”
Ashildr was unconcerned. “Sure, whatever you want.” She sat down on a chair and propped her feet on a footrest, both silver as the floor designs, with a journal on her lap.
Clara rolled her eyes. Her companion could be really unenthusiastic sometimes. Well, what she thought of as her companion.
“Right,” she said, “I’ll be out in reception if you need me... I’m gonna finish up some of that banana icecream from the pantry...”
“You know that eating is probably not recommended in your case, right?”
“It helps me think, okay? And so what if I don’t have a metabolism anymore, I still have senses!”
“Okay,” she said, holding up her hands in a concilliatory fashion, knowing it was a touchy subject. “Okay, go ahead.” And she went back to writing.
Clara glanced at the screen again. “What -?” She flipped her head around at Ashildr, then back again. “Do you –”
“I see it.”
“Should I -?”
“Go! Find out.”
She put her journal aside and stood to observe the second screen, the one that had changed. Her companion dashed inside to change into her waitress uniform. Well, what she thought of as her companion.
Meanwhile, the figure on the screen moved to the counter and sat down.
“Hey!” Clara said to her with a smile, entering the main hall of the diner at last.
It was like water bursting out of the ground in a barren desert. The Doctor looked at her, and everything came alive, fervently and insistently: the Ice Warrior in the submarine, the mummy on the Orient Express, the portrait of her in Time Lord Hell where it hung for billions of years, and the dazzling euphoria of bringing her back on Gallifrey... It filled her heart, and there was only one thing to be said...
“Doctor,” Clara said nodding at her confidently, interrupting her train of thought.
She raised her eyebrows, impressed.
“You recognised me! Clara Oswald, ever full of surprises.”
Clara grinned. “As are you!” she countered. “Where did you find your memories? Guess that Neural Block didn’t work on you for too long, eh?”
“Nah,” she said, broadening her shoulders. “It’ll take more than that to get you out of my head, Clara Oswald! Although I did have a lot of help... Tell me," she said, remembering her point, "how are you? I'm so sorry I couldn't help you more last time, that I –"
"Don't! Don't apologise," Clara shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with it. She looked serious. "You were so amazing, Doctor. This? Me being here, talking? That's all you! So don't ruin the effect by being humble. It doesn't suit you."
The Doctor closed her mouth. Oh, yeah. That's who she had been, after all: proud and entitled. And Clara was the same. Neither her past self nor Clara had ever dealt well with raw emotion. Good reminder; something she would have to work on this time around.
"No matter," she said. "So, go on," she added, raising her tempo to something more cheerful, "Clara, the Time Traveller! Have you travelled much? I see you've picked a scenic spot to park yourself. The vagabond life treatin’ you well?”
“I’ve had some okay adventures,” she shrugged. “Nothing too crazy, thanks to your esteemed absence.”
“Hah! Well, I’m glad you’re taking care...”
“And nice look, by the way!”
“Thank you! I was wondering if it suited me... Brand new face and all!”
“I love your new coat! Very Doctor-y.”
“Oh yeah? I thought you might approveñ”
“It’s gorgeous... On the other hand, the colours? Yellow suspenders? I can see there that you’ve started to call back the... ahem!... fez-like... fashion choices...” Clara read the growing offense on the Doctor's face and popped herself underneath the counter to hide –
“What's wrong with yellow? Plus! Fezzes! Are cool!”
She jumped out of her seat and began to lean across to get a glimpse of Clara and where she was hiding.
“No they’re not!” she teased. “Fezzes have never been cool, and neither are bowties! Come on, it's a new face isn't it, grow some new taste!”
“How dare you! You know I never criticised you for the way you –”
“Oh? Oh yeah?” She popped up from the opposite end of the long table, holding some plastic jars in her arms. “She’s got a face so wide she needs three mirrors!” she said trying to do a deep, gruff voice. The Doctor scrambled over the counter and raced to catch her, but Clara slipped open a door and locked her on the staff-only side. “Oh! Stay there,” she giggled, “stay there, or I’ll call in security!”
“Clara, let me out! – and I only said that because it’s true! What did you need three mirrors for?!”
“It helps to make sure my makeup is even! You know, the face colouring you never understood!”
“Well, I do now!” she lunged her arms forward to get at the latch and escape from her trap behind the counter but Clara slapped her away and raised up her hand, balancing jars dangerously with the other.
“Peace,” she called. “Peace offering! Doctor! Look, I’ve got banana icecream!”
The Doctor dropped her arms at that and rolled her eyes at Clara, who was comically supporting the jars between one arm and knee. Then she chuckled and gave her a warm smile, one that reminded Clara of the way the Doctor would look at her in a earlier, simpler times... “All right,” she said, leaning her elbows on the counter and raising her eyebrows. “Okay, we'll let it rest. Just for the banana icecream... Bananas are good.”
“That,” Clara said, settling herself on a stool and setting the ice cream between them, “That, we can agree on...”
The Doctor reached into a drawer to produce some spoons, her heart swelling. It was a strange thing, but it was so refreshing to be around Clara again, to be surprised, to be challenged, even criticised... to be known.
When the universe turns you upside down, there's nothing that can bring you back on your head like an old friend.
... All the while, Ashildr watched them and gave a heavy sigh.
She disabled the audio and stepped away.
It wouldn’t last, she knew. Even with her memories back, the Doctor would have to leave Clara once and for all. The girl was on the final thread of her life, maybe streached out a bit longer, but final nonetheless. There would have to be a goodbye, a difficult one, and simple comfort food wasn’t going to help either of them with that...
Still. At least it happened.
She turned a page of her journal, thinking.
Perhaps, in some cases, it’s better to focus on the good times you’ve had with someone, even the fleeting ones, instead of the pain they leave behind. Perhaps temporary happiness does beat permanent indifference.
Well... for mortals, at any rate.
She glanced up from her chair from time to time as they conversed, gesturing animatedly at each other, as the day wore on. Clara seemed to have forgotten about her plan to go swimming. She was so happy just talking to the Doctor, did she dare interrupt?
No. She smiled. This was what Clara had been waiting for. She'd let her have one day to herself, one day pretending to be alive and with the Doctor, at last.
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mimiswitchywrites · 3 years
Text
Not A Burden: Chapter 10
TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering).
period typical h***ph*bia
Master list or read on AO3
2.7k words
I refuse to proof read this chapter after spending four days on it so apologies for the inevitable errors you'll find.
If you want to be added to my taglist, message me or comment!
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Gwen liked to think that, after serving families from a young age, she was hard to surprise. That was, of course, until the enigma that was Miriam showed up. The girl, the woman was just so… SO. She was so pretty, so smart, so kind, so funny and so right for Gwen.
And Gwen, foolishly, thought Miri felt the same way. When she had admitted she was glad Merlin had interrupted her and Lancelot, her heart soared. The face Miriam had made upon hearing Gwen and Lancelot had once had relations practically confirmed that, her body draped in loving warmth.
But it was quickly shoved into the depths of ice as Miriam said those scathing words: “something so vile.” Was that truly what she thought? Was she pretending? Maybe so Gwen wouldn’t get the wrong idea and think she had a chance with the beautiful girl? It felt like Morgana all over again – she had found someone that she felt truly comfortable with and they ran off, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her broken soul alone.
But still, Gwen plastered on the servants smile that she had mastered over the years, and made her way about her duties, pretending everything was fine. Because everything was fine. It wasn’t like anything had happened or ever would happen and sure, Gwen had had a momentary lapse in judgement where she thought she could be truly happy with someone, but she would use this as a learning opportunity and would file it away as something to never allow to happen again. And if a tear slipped from her glassy eyes, well, good thing there was no one around to notice.
She breathed a sigh of relief upon finding Elyan’s note on the table: “I shall be spending the night with Gwaine, hopefully talking some sense into him. See you tomorrow dear sister, be well.” She loved him but the idea of explaining why she was in such a state was not something she favoured.
She sat on the creaky stool with a huff, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, face burrowing into the fabric as if it were hugging her. At least something was. She stayed that way until the sun set, rocking back and forth very gently.
It was the way Miriam had said it that bothered her the most. She seemed to genuinely believe that a woman laying with another woman was disgusting, maybe even worth condemning by the god’s around them, and yet she was the one that suggested it. Why would she think of such things if she hated them? And yet, she had said that she had had a long day in the kitchens so maybe it was as she had said and she was just tired.
Gwen stood, pacing the length of her small hut.
She felt the need to apologise. To assure the girl that she had done no wrong and that it was Gwen that should have held her tongue. She probably shouldn’t have shared that she had been with Lancelot – especially not sharing a little of their more intimate relations – but there was something in her that told her it needed to be said. Maybe she wanted to put Miri off him. Was that selfish? Yes. And yet, it felt so right. There was a hint of relief in Miriam’s eyes, as if she was glad to have a reason to reject him.
Her heart fluttered again; Gwen pinched herself to force it to calm. She had no right seeing that as an opening for herself. What if Miri was uncomfortable with the situation with Lancelot? He was an honourable man, and he would back off immediately if he saw any sign of discomfort, but he was also passionate and that blinded him at times. Was it up to Gwen to step in? She should talk to Miriam. Yes, just to make sure that she understood where her courting could lead.
Gwen stopped in front of the wash bowl, splashing the chilled water on her face and neck. The cold was refreshing on her boiling skin – complicated emotions always made her warm. She took a moment to watch out the window and look up at the castle. She loved the way the candles flickered in the stained-glass window, creating beautiful colourful blobs that flittered about with the gentle breeze that would inevitably get into each room. The whole citadel was quiet tonight, as if giving Gwen peace to think. She hated it.
With yet another sigh, she forced herself to light the fire and heat the soup from the previous night. She hummed as she worked, determined to keep her thoughts in check with songs of Bears and Maidens.
As night set in, belly now full, Gwen prepared herself for bed. Her mind once again circled back to the beautiful girl as she put on her sleeping gown. She knew from the moment she saw Miri that there was something there, something that she was drawn to. She had to give her something, some reason to talk more, and so she had volunteered up a few old gowns for the girl to wear (Gwen did her best to ignore the image of the bloody dress in the bucket, soaking, as she recalled her first memory with her) and it had worked – they had spoken gently almost every day since then.
And now, Gwen thought, we may never again.
With that, Gwen curled up in a ball, pulling the itchy blanket over her head, and fell into a restless sleep.
--
When she woke, eyes caked shut with dried tears, Gwen made a plan. Sure, she felt like she was wearing a shops worth of armour – heart too heavy for her to move properly – but she was nothing if not efficient and a do-er and so her mind set to work.
Miriam was a good person, she had a pure soul – Gwen was sure of it – and so, saying something as… horrible as that must have been a lie. She was new to Camelot, brain in loops from her night in the woods and so she must not know the cities views on such relationships. Although, as she thought about it, Gwen realised that there wasn’t really much to prove Camelot had positive views on such things. There was Merlin and Arthur, of course, but not everyone saw them as she could and so why would someone new assume they would be okay with it? Maybe Gwen could talk to them, get them to tell Miri of their thoughts on the matter and prove her wrong? Show her that it wasn’t shameful and that such things were allowed to be talked about here?
And then what? It was foolish of Gwen to get her hopes up, to think that sharing this would make Miri like her. Like her.
Once again, Gwen’s heart fell.
As she looked in the mirror, tightening her floral corset that people always complimented her on, she imagined Miriam stood next to her. She could see the girl’s dark black hair cascading down her back, their eyes level – Miri was barely taller than Gwen – and they were smiling at each other. Gwen had noticed through stolen glances, that Miriam had three main ways of smiling. The first was her most frequent one: when she pretended she was doing well for people, such as Gaius who would question her on her emotional wellbeing daily. She could see the way it exhausted her to plaster such a look – ends of her mouth curled upwards – but she understood why she did such things. To admit her true feelings (Gwen didn’t pretend to know what they were, just that they were unlikely to be positive) would lead to her being stuck in the physicians chambers for longer, she wouldn’t be able to work in the kitchens and Gwen could tell that brought her true joy.
The smile she saw after meeting the girl the day before was the best smile she had seen in all her twenty-something years. Her eyes practically sparkled, singing her hearts joy, and the apples of her cheeks were full. She was light in her step, as if floating with happiness. The feeling was infectious.
The third smile was the one solely reserved for Gwen. It was the one she saw in the corner of her eye when busy, pottering around the room and clearing up after Gaius. She would pretend to be occupied, just so she could catch glimpses of it. She may not know why Miriam smiled like that, just for her, or why her cheeks glowed red each time she was caught looking, but she did know that it did wonderful things to the butterflies residing in her stomach.
That was the smile she imagined now, looking at the faux reflection of the girl next to her.
She sighed, pulling on her shawl.
--
By the time she had finished work that day, doing little jobs for whoever needed a helping hand, the sun was hiding behind the woods. She popped her head into Gaius’ chambers, asking where Miriam’s quarters were, before slowly setting off towards the servants’ lodgings. She was glad to have never needed to sleep within the castle – she found that living in the lower town, no matter how many drunkards would wake her with their shouts outside, created a much-needed gap between work and home life. They were kept well, there were plenty of people proficient at cleaning in this area of the castle, but Gwen noticed how much colder the stone felt without the fires being kept alight as they were in the parts of the castle that high born’s inhabited.
Gwen slowed her pace further as the end of the corridor came into view. Gaius said Miriam was in the room one from the end, on the left. She played over what she wanted to say, trying to form some sort of structure to the conversation but falling short. You should talk to Merlin and Arthur and Camelot is a kind Kingdom with accepting inhabitants and even if you do truly think people like that are vile, I cannot agree with you and I hope you accept that. She was less sure on that last point. It didn’t feel as if Miriam would think that but what if she did? Would Gwen even wish to stay friends with someone like that? Would it be safe for Merlin and Arthur to be friend with someone like that? She wasn’t so sure Arthur counted as her friend – she had heard conflicting reports on his thoughts towards the girl – but Merlin would definitely be affected by views such as that.
She stopped, the door within reach now. Her heart was racing, mind spinning. Despite trying to organise her thoughts for an entire day and night now, she was no closer to knowing what to say, not properly. How does one even broach the subject? She had to also be careful of the girls mental state – it was clear she did not want people walking on hot coals around her, but she couldn’t allow herself to be angry at the girl for what that could do.
She took a deep breath and listened, trying to ground herself.
There were voices inside. Although muffled, Gwen could make out the distinct, beautiful, melody of Miriam and, listening closer, Merlin.
Merlin. That was good. Maybe, if she knocked now, he could stay. That way, she would have someone to back her up that she knew would agree. Having him, she selfishly thought, also meant she wouldn’t have to bring her own feelings into the mix. She wouldn’t have to mention Morgana if someone that felt towards those of the same sex as was expected of the opposite was there.
She took a final breath of fresh air, pushing away the thoughts telling her to run and hide under her blanket.
She knocked.
And then again, just to be sure they would hear.
“Hello?” It was Miriam and, Gwen noticed, her voice was off – as if she were upset. That did not bode well.
“Miri?” She called, anxiety flowing through her whole body, “Can we talk?”
There was a pause and Gwen almost considered leaving, apologising for the interruption, and packing a bag. Maybe she could visit Ealdor and stay with Merlin’s mother for some time. Cleaning pig pens sounded far better than this—
The door opened and there she stood; eye’s glassy but still smiling hesitantly at Gwen. How did she still look so perfect when upset? Gwen’s nerves fluttered once again but, with a heavy swallow, she began, “Hi.” Her voice was quiet, but it brought Miri’s lips up more, evolving into that smile.
“Hi.”
“Hello Gwen.” Came Merlin’s voice from inside the room. Miriam opened the door up further, allowing Gwen to peer into the chamber. It was small – smaller than Gwen’s room – but, judging by the one bed, it was all for Miriam which was a rare occurrence from what Gwen understood. Miri stepped back, gesturing for Gwen to come in.
“Are you alright?” Miriam asked, face softening in concern as she noticed the way Gwen was wringing her hands with worry. She nodded, once again trying to form the introduction to the conversation.
“I wanted to talk. About yesterday. And my thoughts on that.” Gwen caught the way Merlin and Miriam’s eyes locked – clearly, he was aware of the situation which would make asking him to stay a lot easier, hopefully. “You can stay, Merlin.” She turned to him, eyes practically pleading. He nodded, sitting on the seat behind him.
Miriam sat on her bed (which creaked in protest) and patted the space next to her. With yet another deep breath, Gwen gathered her dress and sat – keeping a bit of distance between them.
“I’m sorry—”
“I don’t understand—” They started at the same time, breaking off with nervous giggles, heat rising in each of their cheeks. Merlin’s eyes darted between the two.
Gwen nodded for Miriam to start.
She took a second, eye’s tracing the serving girls soft features, and began, “I am sorry for how I reacted yesterday. I shouldn’t have said such things – both suggesting you should… consider other options, and for saying it is an unnatural passion.” She picked at her nail, stopping before it bled. “I should have kept quiet, I have no right to interfere in your personal life, and I most certainly shouldn’t have said anything about exploring it like that.”
Gwen’s stomach dropped. Did she still think it was wrong? Why must the girl be such an enigma?
“I can’t wrap my head around you. You are such a kind, pure hearted woman – I am sure of it – and yet you seem to truly be disgusted by the idea of woman laying with woman and man with man. Why is this so wrong? Is it not part of life to be pleasured? If one finds the person that fulfils that part of them, should they turn them away purely for how they were born?” Out the corner of her eye, Gwen noticed Merlin bite his lip and look down at his hands. She had no intention of raising her voice, but she was just so confused, and she needed answers.
“That’s not it, I just, I –” Miriam stood, wrapping her arms tight around her waist and pacing, “I am sorry that I am not the kind of person you thought I was.” Her face was dark, eyes blank and brows pulled tight. Merlin was looking at her with a curious expression, head tilted to the side as if that wasn’t what he had expected her to say either.
“Oh.” Gwen couldn’t form any other words, world busy crashing down around her. She was so sure that Miriam was a good person. That she was just putting up a front. That she meant something with the soft touches of her shoulder and back. That she did actually have a smile reserved just for Gwen, and that the blush meant something more.
But maybe Gwen was wrong: she clearly had been with Morgana.
“Well, I am sorry to have bothered you. Goodnight Merlin.” Her voice cracked but she kept her head high, taking her leave. Her hands shook – whether with anger or sadness, she couldn’t be sure – and so she balled her fists as she made the long walk home.
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magic5ball · 3 years
Text
Nature Trail to Hell Arc IV: Megamart of Darkness (9)
Chapter 9: Dropping the A-Bomb
           I just stood there, having no idea what to say or do. It was like looking in a mirror at the grim, jaded hump of crap you know you’re going to be in ten years if the scholarship doesn’t work out. It was a sight that would bring most grown men to their knees, so considering I was a little kid at the time, it was a wonder I was even standing at all.
Yet somehow, I managed to spit words.
“T-the water.” I trembled, “g-give it back.”
He looked at the glowing plastic bottle in his hand. “Sorry kid, no can do. This here’s company property now. But if you want, I’m more than willing to sit down for an adult conversation.”
The way he said those last two words made my blood freeze, no small task when the ‘sun’ was shining so bright overhead. 
He gestured over to an area at the foot of the inflatable volcano, where two plastic chairs and a table rested. On top of the table were several Red Solo cups and a bottle of Crystal Springs Bottled Water.
“Like I said, its’ been awhile since I’ve had company. Besides the Wegmart Company, that is! Ha!”
My feeble ten year old mind struggled to grapple with the fact that someday I would find jokes like that funny. One of the most horrible experiences of my life.
But what could I do? Thanks to stories from my gangster days, I knew darn well what this A-Bomb was capable of, and I wasn’t really in a position to take chances. So I followed him to the tables, trying not to think about how Bokrug should have been here by now, despite his lumbering movements.
Naturally, I didn’t make a peep. If there’s one thing I learned from comic books, its’ best not to set these friendly-lookin’ types off.
When we did get to that table, first thing the guy did was offer me some of that crisp, refreshing, bottled water. Though the heat from the lava made it really tempting, I knew I’d never be able to live with myself if I did.
“Suit yourself, kiddo.” He said, pouring a cup of his own. “We aren’t that different, you know. In fact, you’re a lot like me when I was little…”
On the outside, I stared like the teacher was about to bring the whipping stick. On the inside, I wanted to scream, because long talks with my Dad had taught me where this was going.
                                                      .   .   .
“When I was your age, I also went to a Summer Camp, it was called Camp Salmon or something like that. Anyway, the counselors running the camp were mean. Like, really, really mean, so the second I could I dashed right on out of there and into the woods. Sound familiar?”
Naturally, I didn’t say a word. Throat was too parched, anyway. A-Bomb laughed.
“Oh who am I kidding?! Of course it does! I know because Wegmart has surveillance cameras everywhere!”
He pressed something under the table, and from the ground emerged a device made from a bunch of big screen T.V.s hastily duct taped together, several flashing images of my adventures over the summer. The rest showed the frozen foods aisle, where my feathered allies were getting ‘ahem’, ‘cleaned up’ in the most gruesome way possible.
“Like you, Watterson Tostig, I went into the underworld and escaped. I too, was inducted into a gang of dinosaurs. I, too, became God of Roadside America. But at the end of the day, guys like us have to settle down and face reality. Wegmart saved me, kid, and if you’re willing, it’ll save you too.”
All that time, I didn’t turn away from the screen. I couldn’t.
“I thought I could spend the rest of my life hiding in the produce aisle. But I was foolish back then, a rogue vagrant eating grapefruit peels. Until THEY rescued we. The founders of Wegmart took my withered ghost and showed me the way to love, happiness, and most importantly, low, low prices!”
Yeah, yeah. The low, low price of a human soul!
“I was weak at first, but the kind folks at Wegmart saw my talents as a brown bagger and before I knew it, I had my own private toothpick in the faculty room! After that, they put me into production.”
Here’s the thing about young me being stoic: even at the best of times, he was kinda bad at it. Sometimes I even wonder if he had some kind of attention deficit. Not saying little me cocked an eyebrow at the mention of ‘production’, but he looked at me like I did before he went on yammering again. 
“Oh yeah! You’re not in the know of company business. Right!  See, our store used to have a 3D printer they would use to take the employee of the month and just clone him until they had an entire staff of the perfect worker! And yours truly has held the position for ten years!”
Ever since I was young enough to confuse Wegmart with Disneyland, I’d always noticed how all the brown baggers looked the same. Suddenly, everything made terrible, terrible sense. But worse was the realization that, just like those cereal box sweepstakes, the empty, dotted line cutout of a man could have easily been me!
“Shame they recalled the printer. Something about lead based ink. Or the clones having higher than normal rates of cancer. Really, I just signed the paperwork. But enough of the sad stuff, Watters! Let’s talk future! Because I’ve seen you in action and man, you’re just the kind of spunk to breathe life into this company!”
Least, I think that’s what he said. Bokrug’s running tardy was really nerving me up.
“So join me, Watterson! And let us rule the Wegmart like manager and employee!”
“No.” I whispered.
“Eh?” A-Bomb cocked an eyebrow, like he’d never heard the word in years.
And with that, I could stay silent no longer. The anger, the one that’d been boiling so steadily I me like the giant volcano we sat at the foot of, went full Krakatoa!
“Are you deaf, poophead?! I said NO!. And you know why? Because all you did was make a giant self-pity sob story for yourself, because you think that if you can drag me down with you into this Megamart of Darkness, you’ll feel better about stealing water from a bunch of geese! I’m pretty sure you could have gotten some from Rite Aid if you were willing to play fair!”
“Rite Aid doesn’t sell-“
“My point is, you’re just jealous of me because I’m not a cog in the machine like you! And that ‘we’re so alike’ bullcrap wouldn’t work on a five year old! So no, I won’t join you, because I might have sold my soul to a Tako Shak, but even I have stinking standards, you self-pitying TURD!”
A-Bomb stared at me, mouth agape for a few seconds. “T-the T-word?...”
“You heard me right, TURD!, so you better let me go unless you want more of the same! I’ll even tell my Mom, and you really don’t want to see her when she’s angry!”
“No, no, I get it…” he pushed a button under the table.
Another hole opened in the ground, and from it emerged what I can only describe as a nuclear missile made entirely of fuzzy orange Shampows.
“Your friends and family are holding you back, little bro! So how about I sweeten the deal: you join me, and I don’t rain Shampow down on your entire neighborhood!”
I tried to move, only to find myself stuck to my seat. Literally. The son of a snitch must have superglued the thing beforehand!
“So, do we have a deal?”
I didn’t say a word.
“Do. We. Have. A. Deal?”
Now I might have been a bit of a turd back in the day, but darn it, I couldn’t let an entire neighborhood get wiped from existence! Especially when the neighbor hadn’t even returned out lawnmower yet!
“Okay! Okay! I’ll join you! I’ll be your whipping boy. I’ll even stock Barbie dolls if I have to! Just don’t press hat button!”
And you know what the prick did? He kept putting his finger closer and closer to the launch button!
“But I thought you said you wouldn’t do it if I joined!”
“Foolish Watt! Your petty loyalties to the neighborhood make you weak! We must purge this from your mind so you can know true Wegmart! Just like my manager did to my neighborhood!”
But you know what the worst part was? He said this using the most condescending, prickish voice I could imagine.
Still, one thing needed clearing up.
“Hey A-Bomb? What was your neighborhood?”
Guy didn’t say a word, but the way he shut up after that spoke plenty.
“… They called it New Jersey.” He whispered.
I rolled my eyes, knowing full well it might be the last time I ever express sarcasm. Of course!
Time slowed to a crawl as I waited on the imminent destruction of everything I ever gave a crap about. Oh, I tried to see things from the half full perspective, but not even the knowledge my douchebag brother was probably going to get caught dab smack in the middle of the detonation zone passed out on the couch watching teen drama reruns could compensate for everything. At least A-Bomb was taking his sweet time pressing, probably so he could rub it in more.
In fact, he was taking a lot of sweet time. (Granted five minutes is pretty long for a ten year old, but still!) Then I noticed he was pressing the detonation button multiple times, each time faster and more flustered. I looked up, wondering if the Lord himself had intervened on behalf of little old me, even after everything. 
In fact, my salvation had come in the form of a certain goose, who grinned triumphantly, a plug and wire in his beak, machine gun cradled in his wings.
“Bokrug!”
The noble bird spit out the plug, beaming with triumph despite being so plucked of feathers he was practically naked. A-Bomb was, on the other hand, for the first time since I saw him feeling something other than calm, collected, or several other words you find in yoga advertisements. His face turned so red I figured he’d explode any minute, just like his namesake.
“YOU!” he leapt up from his seat, facing down the glorious gander. ”I had ONE chance to find happiness! ONE chance to have somebody to share this miserable job! Years of planning, plotting, scheming, and with one bite you ruined it!” He unsheathed those golf clubs from his back. “Do you know what its’ like to run a store with only clones of yourself?! With everyone knowing exactly what you do?! Its’ so, so BOORIIINNGGG!”
“Then perhaps you should have found a happiness that did not require the suffering of another.” He bared his beak, bits of Wegmart technology still stuck in them. “Or technology easily damaged by the humblest of beaks.” like he was emphasizing the point, he cocked the machine gun, maing probably the world’s most satisfying click. 
“Who do you think you are, my Mom?!” He spun his golf clubs around, making a combination of kung-fu poses and noises that could only be described as either really stupid or really racist. Possibly both.
“Bokrug-kun! You have brought great dishonor upon my house. Prepare to die!” he cried in the phoniest Japanese accent I ever heard.
“I’m Egyptian, you a$$hole!”
With a guttural roar, the waterfowl from hell charged in kind, raining bullets like hellfire.
It was the awesomest f*cking thing I ever saw.
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beauty-of-sins · 4 years
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When Tommorow Comes(Tissaia and Triss)
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Gif Credit: @thewitchersdaily​
Triss and Tissaia talk before the battle of Sodden Hill. 
She remembers when Triss first showed up to Aretuza much younger than most, stumbling to their front doors. They didn’t bother looking for her parents, she was probably tossed aside like the rest of them.  Unwanted and unloved. At least they had to decency to leave her there.
Tissaia sips on the bitter ale as she looks around the little makeshift party. A little fun to forget what this really is-a war-and no doubt some of the mages she’s known for ages will be dead by this same time tomorrow. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a mass of chestnut brown hair. Triss. 
A young mage, not as old as most of her students who joined her on Sodden Hill, who last she heard helped King Foltest out with his little “werewolf” problem. She looked at her, the young woman had fully grown into her features. Her soft face framed by her curly hair while her freckles had a slight blush(most likely from the alcohol) to them as she talked with her fellow mages near the food.
She remembers when Triss first showed up to Aretuza much younger than most, stumbling to their front doors. They didn’t bother looking for her parents, she was probably tossed aside like the rest of them.  Unwanted and unloved. At least they had to decency to leave her there.
If she was distraught by the abandonment she didn’t show it. She had taken to Tisssia quite quickly despite the older woman’s annoyance when she interrupted her studies by barging into her office or slipping from her given caretaker just to find her. She liked to cling behind her legs, the only thing you would be able to see was her poofy hair. Some of the older students gave her the nickname “Lion” for it.  Her blue eyes, always wide, struggling to hold the excitement in them, eager and ready to learn about everything around her. She was barely able to peak over her desk as she babbled on and on in her office. Sometimes Tissaia would just put her pipe down and stare at the small child who was talking aimlessly. It was refreshing to see the brightness in this child’s eyes. It would be a shame that she would have to dim it in order to prepare her for this world. It wouldn’t be a pretty world especially for her but like the rest of her students, Tissaia was going to teach her how to thrive. Become a goddess amongst men.
Triss got older and was disappointed when she found out she was allergic to magic. She spent a whole week in despair walking solemnly around the place, the quietest that Tissaia ever saw her. It was surprisingly unsettling.  When making her rounds she turned toward Triss’s room, hearing her sniffles and sobs, lingering there before moving on. She waited for her to make the choice on her own. Tissaia watched as she became interested in botany, interested in growing and healing, carving her own path around her handicap.
She stopped chatting so much and poured herself into the studies and Tissaia obliged her, pushing her harder than the rest of the mages in her class. Pushed her until she stretched Triss to her limits and sometimes far beyond until she cried, until she raged at her, until she asked why she hated her. Tissaia would fix her with that same passive stare before continuing the lesson. The other mages did not envy Triss. She would make Triss’s weakness her strength. 
Tissaia would catch her in the greenroom late at night, her hands trembling from exhaustion, her palms scratched from some of the plants she was using. On those nights, she would say nothing gentling wrapping Triss’s palm up before escorting her back to her room. She became one of her best students that ever ascended. 
-
Triss saw her looking over and smiled brightly before excusing herself from the group, slightly swaying as she approached her old mentor. Tissaia smiled at the sight. She wondered just how drunk she was. 
“Soooooo-” Triss drawled, raising her eyebrows, her eyes sliding over to Vilgefortz with a mischievous glint. “I see you're enjoying yourself.” Tissaia followed her line of sight, to which he noticed her looking and winked at her before turning back to his conversation. 
She quite liked Triss’s boldness. If there was one thing to appreciate from this upcoming battle, it was a nice refresher, from her new students who would tremble in fear at a slight look from her. 
“I see you are too,” she said, slowly. Looking into the almost empty, what had to be the third cup, Triss had that night. 
“We might all die tomorrow so might as well,” Triss said it jokingly, but there was a tinge of something behind it as she stared at beyond the hill. She stared up at Triss, seeing a thousand different ways she could die tomorrow. A quick bow to the chest making her fall dead before she could stop it.  A single swipe of a  sword to her neck.  Another person she would have to bury, someone who for a mage was barely an adult.  If this was going to be the last conversation they would have she should at least make it mean something. 
“Do you ever think about them?” she said, abruptly never one to beat around the bush.  
Triss’s smile dropped a little bit at the topic, as she tensed up. “Does it matter?”
“Does it?” her tone sharp, which made the girl flinch a little bit.  Triss sat down next to her, taking another sip of her drink staring out into the darkness, her face hardening.
“I do. I still do.” Triss said finally, letting out a little sigh.  “I always have.” 
“I could never tell.” 
Triss gave a wry little smile. “Most people couldn’t. I tried my best to not let it bother me. What did I have to complain about? I probably had a better childhood than most,” her eyes roaming around to eventually land on Yennefer.
“And yet you still wonder,” Tissaia said. Triss’s hand tighten around her cup.
“Foolish, I know.” she said bitterly, all teeth but no smile. “I felt like I had to prove that I was worth keeping. Even though they probably never wanted me even for a minute. Even now I feel like I’m doing this for them to show them what a mistake they made.”
Tissaia looked over her form, watching her eyebrows furrow, the way vines snaked out from between her hands, the way her nails dug into the cup. So similar as to when she used to patch her up, pulling the thorns out the palm of Triss’s hands. It was such a strange look to see her like this but it was not an unwelcome one. Anger has its uses.
“That they did.” she said finally sipping from her own cup, before continuing.  “Life has no room for what-ifs, Triss.” The other woman looked over at Tissaia. “What must happen will happen.”
“And look at who you’ve become.” The sincerity in Tissaia’s voice caught Triss off guard and she knew it couldn’t have been the ale. She barely drank any. 
To her surprise, Triss’s smile slipped back onto her face. Her smile becoming wide. “We all have a purpose don’t we.”
“And what do you think yours is.” Tissaia said, raising her eyebrows. 
“Only destiny can truly tell,” Triss said, tilting her head down at her, a teasing smile on her face. “Isn’t that what everyone likes to tell us.”
For a moment, she felt as if she was the child, that Triss could see beyond this moment. There was something beautiful about it.  “But despite everything I know one thing to be true. That it's my fate to be here. Right now with you.” she said to Tissaia. “No matter what.”
Triss said it with such finality and passion blazing in their eyes. She seemed like the brightest thing at the camp. Neither mage said anything as they stared at each other. Her little lion had grown up into a beautiful mage. Tissaia cracked a proud smile. Now her equal, standing even taller than her now. Able to look her in the eyes and hold her own.  
“Go enjoy your night, little lion,” she said, flicking her head toward Yennefer who was staring off in the distance ignoring the way Triss’s cheeks flushed at her childhood nickname “And maybe encourage others too as well.”
Triss nodded, making her move and then stopping suddenly. She watched as Triss’s hands moved before she produced a flower and presented it to her. She gently reached out taking it in her hands. Then, Triss left practically skipping towards Yennefer.
Tissasia watched them with a warmness in her chest. No matter how hard she was on them or how brute the others thought she was to her students. They turned out into beautiful mages who would fight with her till the end. She twirled the flower, a pink carnation, the beautiful color vibrant among the cold stones.   In return, she would guide them to their purpose like she always had, shielding them from themselves before turning them out to the world, the bringers of change. They would be her legacy. 
She couldn’t ask for anything more than that.  
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Ain’t No Rockstar
A/N: It felt like this took me forever to write. But I solved all my problems with it and I’ve decided I’m gonna turn it into a series. Maybe give it one or two more parts, we’ll see. If you lovely people could, I would appreciate it if you could send me gifs cause they never want to load on my wifi. I’m changing a bunch of stuff, like my color and profile pics because I felt like it, and my masterlist is gonna get redone. Just wanted to let you guys know about that before it happens. Requests are open, so send ‘em in and I hope you guys enjoy.
*~~*~~*
Masterlist
Slash x Reader
Requested by Anonymous
Part 1 of 3 (Maybe)
Summary: Y/n was nothing more than a stressed out makeup artist, at least that all she thought she was. It turns out that she was more than that to one member of the band she was working for. Not only would she have to navigate both his and her feelings, but she would also have to find the courage to seize what she wanted before it disappeared.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Long as hell, language, alcohol, mention of drugs
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The smell of hairspray mixed with smoke filled her nostrils as Y/n tested out the bottle. She was going through hairspray like crazy and it didn’t help that half of the bottles wouldn’t work. Pressing the nozzle down, she waited for the sheer mist to appear before turning back to the person sitting in front of her. 
Doing hair and makeup had never been her ideal job. Though, when asked what job that might be, she had no answer. All she knew was what wouldn’t make her happy. She’d learned that running wasn’t for her, neither was waiting tables, and that coffee wasn’t the best drink in the world while yellow didn’t please her eyes. But when she was asked what was for her, what drink was best, and what color pleased her eyes, her mind would go blank. How was she supposed to know the answer to any of those? She’d barely experienced life, She was at the beginning of a journey that had yet to begin.
Y/n sighed as she thought about her “shortcomings”-- as her mother called them. Playing with the auburn hair in front of her, she shaped and teased it to the height she wanted before spraying it with the can in hand. 
Y/n looked at the man sitting in front of her through the mirror, “Is that high enough, Axl?”
Axl didn’t even bother to look, too engrossed by the conversation he was having with his bandmates to care about his hair, and Y/n sighed.  Grabbing the comb off the vanity in front of them, she decided that the hair hadn’t been teased high enough. He would bitch either way: it was either too high or too low. Nevertheless, she began to run the comb against his hair, spraying it as she went along, the toxic mist hitting her in the face as she went along.
Y/n may not have known what she wanted to do with her life, but one thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to deal with rock stars. Glancing at the men around her, she reflected on their dark leather jackets, ripped jeans, ‘I-don’t-care’ attitudes, and wasn’t sure how people put up with them. In her mind, they were like crows. Screeching at the most random of times and doing whatever they pleased, not caring who it upset. Never once in her time of getting them ready for shows or photoshoots had she seen them drink something that wasn’t intoxicating, or manage to stay out of trouble. They were the outcasts, the black cats that people were wary about, and with good reason.
Being outcasts didn’t matter to her, though. Not when they were such assholes. If they weren’t busy pissing each other off, they were pissing everyone else off. On multiple occasions, stylists, photographers, and assistants had quit because they could no longer handle the group. Vices stacked against them or not, they weren’t a bunch of innocent schoolboys, anyone who thought so was a fool. 
“I look like a fucking poodle,” Axl grunted, looking up for the first time and wincing at his appearance. Y/n rolled her eyes, combing out some of the hair. “It’s too big! I don’t want to look like I borrowed a wig from Dolly Parton!”
Her jaw set as a fake smile crossed on her lips and she nodded. “Lower then.”
He smiled. “Yes, lower.”
The smile disappeared once she went back to work, trying to comb out his unruly hair. As she brushed the hair back down, she couldn’t help but think about her shortcomings. It wasn’t that she failed to know what brought her joy, it was all the things she wanted to do. The things that were just out of reach. At one time, she wanted to learn how to surf but that idea went away when she took on the job as a makeup artist. All the time that she thought she had vanished once she started applying people’s makeup and styling their hair. Before that, she had wanted to learn to dance. Her mother had been a ballet dancer, performing for large crowds throughout Europe and the US. The dream of dancing, ballet or not, faded when she realized she couldn’t afford the classes. Time and money were never on her side, nor had they ever been. The only dreams she still held firmly to were ‘foolish’ ones, ones that would get a good laugh from her mother, who had seen the world, and the men around her, who didn't care.
Touching up the combed out hair, she finally set the hairspray and comb down. 
“How about that?” she asked, stepping back to look at her work herself.
He shrugged, “It’ll have to do, I guess.”
Axl stood from the chair and walked over to the couch. Sitting down, he snatched a bottle of whiskey off the table in front of him and drank it as though it were water. Whatever nerves he was trying to numb was nothing in comparison to the stress that was bubbling up inside of her. A drink, a nice, long, refreshing drink that would wash away her problems was what she needed. Anything at all, any fix, permanent or not was what she yearned for.
Y/n turned her attention to the supplies in front of her. Axl was the last of the boys she had to do, meaning it was time for her to pack up and leave and she sure as hell wasn’t complaining, even though she wasn’ going that far. . They were on tour and this was just one of the many photo shoots they’d be doing, with a show a few hours later that she’d need to get them ready for. She picked up the combs and brushes, dropping them into a bag for her to sort out later, before shoving eyeliner and powder into her makeup case, not caring if they were in their correct spots. 
“Are you gonna stay for the show tonight?” Saul asked, fiddling with his cigarette in one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.
She shook her head in response, not bothering to turn around. 
“Why not? It’s not like you have anything better to do.”
Y/n sighed, shutting the makeup case after checking the counter to make sure she didn’t leave anything out, “I can think of a million other things I’d rather do than watch your show.”
Axl scoffed, earning a snicker from Steve and Duff.
 “Like what? It’s not like you do that much around here. I’m sure organizing your bags-” He gestured to the case she had in front of her. “-will take all night.”
The sarcasm in his voice burned in her ears. Out of all the people in the world, she got stuck doing their makeup...stuck doing the makeup for overgrown children. 
“Whatever,” Y/n  said, grabbing her makeup case and hair bag before walking out of the room. She could also think of a million other places she’d rather be.
When she was out of sight, Saul turned to his friends, disappointment in his eyes, “Why’d you have to do that?”
Confused faces looked back at him. 
“She puts up with our shit all the time, can’t you guys give her a break for once?”
Duff raised a brow. They all were aware of how much they stressed those around them out. Hell, they stressed each other out. But they never cared. As friends, they just brushed it off and when it came to other people, they expected them to do the same. It wasn’t like they were going to change their ways anytime soon. 
“You want us-” The blonde pointed to everyone. “-to give her a break?”
 He spoke each word slowly, trying to make sure his friend understood his question. Making sure he understood the question he had been asked.
Saul nodded, brushing black coils out of his face. “Yeah.”
Just as he was about to ask why the answer hit him like a ton of bricks. Duff drew in a breath, his jaw dropping. He hadn’t thought of it before, never once had it crossed his mind, but looking back now, it made sense, “You like her!”
It was hard for him to deny the accusation when he felt his cheeks burn. Silence wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he nodded. “Maybe I do.”
Axl shook his head. “And we’re now just hearing about this!?!”
Saul didn’t know what to say. Y/n had a million reasons she wasn’t going to the show and he had a million reasons as to why he’d never shared the information before. He looked down at his hands, avoiding the eyes burning him. 
“It’s not like it matters anyway. She’s clearly disgusted by us.”
The words stung coming off his tongue but they were true. He saw the way she looked at them, saw the glances through the mirror. She wasn’t impressed by them like the millions of other girls were. In her eyes, they were probably nothing more then flies--annoying creatures that only made her job more difficult. They were a pain in the ass and if she didn’t need the money, he knew she would have no problem parting ways with the band. 
“I would be, too. Have you seen how greasy Izzy’s hair gets?” Steven commented from the other side of the room. 
Izzy glared at him while Saul shook his head.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Leaning back, he stared at the ceiling. “She sees us as drug addicts, just like the rest of the population. She wouldn’t want anything to do with any one of us outside of work.”
“You don’t know that. She may be hopped up on drugs like the rest of us,” Duff tried to assure him. 
“Whatever,” he sighed. “Just forget I didn’t mention it.”
*~~*~~*
Y/n heaved a sigh, lifting her makeup case into a compartment on the tour bus. When everything was put away, she took a seat around the tiny table the bus had to offer. Laying her head on the cold surface, she closed her eyes.
Everything was unusually quiet. There were no people bustling around outside, moving equipment and instruments, no fans screaming like the world was ending, no nothing. For once she escaped the madness that normally encased her like a cacoon. Any peace and quiet she could get while on tour she would take. Everyone, besides the band, felt that way when they weren’t around. Silence was a god’s send to those that were busting their ass, trying to make the shows run smoothly. 
In the silence, she could almost picture what her life used to look like. Scenes of stirring a bowl of cake batter with her mother next to her, played behind her eyelids, as  Mozart's “Der Hölle Rache” played softly in the background. Memories like those sweet, gentle, moments like that were ones she missed. Sadly, those were gone, blowing away in the wind, left in their place were rough and wild moments that rushed together, colliding in violent fights. Nothing she would want to remember, let alone look back on during moments of peace.
“Rough day?”
Y/n opened her eyes, lifting her head to see Jessica, one of the sound techs, open the fridge and pull out a water bottle. She shrugged, “No rougher than usual.”
“They’re a lot to handle, though.” Jessica tossed Y/n a water before opening her own. “I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long. The last makeup artist lasted, oh, maybe three weeks.”
Y/n toyed with the water bottle, processing the information. Her third week working for the band was also the week that she had contemplated quitting almost every day. It was just a long enough period of time to know the boys enough but not enough, causing false assumptions. Though many of her assumptions were true, a longer period was needed for her to fully adjust to their wild behavior. That’s probably why the last makeup artist quit, they hadn’t given themselves enough time to get used to the wild and restless. She didn’t think anyone would be able to get used to their behavior, only block it out.
“I’m not sure how much longer I can last, though,” She said with a sigh. “I enjoy what I do, really, but it’s just… I don’t know.” She shook her head, “They frustrate me to no end. Either their hair is too flat, too greasy, or too high. Too this, too that. It doesn’t even matter, they just like to complain.”
Jessica chuckled, a slight smile forming on her lips. “It sounds like you need a drink. Something a little stronger than water.”
“No kidding.”
“Don’t let them get to you, Y/n. As hard as it may seem, you just need to focus on the task at hand, not those that make the task harder. You know what I mean?”
Y/n nodded, opening her water and taking a sip. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”
“Good,” Jessica smiled. “Cause they are clearly stressing you out and stress isn’t good for anyone. Plus, my mother says it causes wrinkles and no one wants those.”
Y/n shook her head, her lips tugging into a smile as Jessica left her in peace. 
Maybe the boys were stressing her out. The thought had never crossed her mind, she was always too focused on making them look perfect to notice. But upon further inspection, it made sense. The overwhelmed, anxious feeling that always lingered in her chest hours after she was finished with her work and the tossing and turning she did at night were dead giveaways to the stress she was under. If she looked in the mirror, she was sure that there would be bags under her eyes, but, lately, she never looked in the mirror to look at herself only the people she was working one. Yet, with the stress she was facing, she hadn’t given it a thought.
Y/n sighed, moving from the table, she crouched next to her bunk and pulled out the guitar case that she stored under it. She placed the case on the table, opening it, and felt her shoulders drop when her eyes met a  dark blue acoustic guitar. Running her fingers over the fretboard, she took a deep breath before pulling it out of the case.
*~~*~~*
Saul ran a hand through his curled hair, ruining the work that had been done to it earlier. Stepping out of the concert hall, he took a deep breath, glad to be outside, to be away from the relentless teasing of his friends. Even though he asked them to forget he mentioned it, they couldn’t do that. It was just too easy to forget something. He sighed and decided to walk around for a bit. Maybe some time away from them would slow his racing heart down. 
That thought became less and less likely as he walked, his brain mulling over his emotions that were running wild. He didn’t just like Y/n, the guitarist felt that he was coming to love her. It was foolish when he knew he didn’t stand a chance, yet the feelings didn’t waver, they stood firm like a hardwood in a rainstorm. 
What a fool he was. 
The boys and him could have any girl they wanted, girls fell into their laps like apples fall from trees, yet he that wasn’t good enough for him. His friends weren’t picky, not giving a thought to their emotions, not letting their feelings eat away at them. They were satisfied with any girl that came their way, Saul wasn’t. He wanted to be, he didn’t want his heart to race at the thought of one person, but that seemed to be what he was stuck with.
Saul pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one out and lighting it in hopes that it would help calm his heart down. Taking a drag, he tried to focus on the show, the after-party, their next stop, anything to distract him from what was eating him up inside. Nothing was working, nothing was strong enough to deter his mind from the emotions that he felt. He was just about to grab a bottle of vodka from the band’s bus, hoping that it would drown his problems when he heard the faint sound of someone plucking at guitar strings.
Stopping in his tracks, he looked around, trying to pinpoint where the music was coming from. The tune wasn’t that interact, yet it intrigued him, drawing him to it. He started walking in the direction of the intoxicating sound. It was doing a far better job at wiping his mind than anything he had tried. Saul raised a brow when he was lead to the crew bus, he wasn’t sure who he was expecting to be behind the music, but he wouldn’t have guessed a crew member.
Climbing the steps of the bus, he was surprised by the scene in front of. Sitting on the couch was Y/n, a guitar resting in her arms. Saul leaned against the driver’s seat, watching her play the instrument. It was news to him that she knew how to play, but then again, it wasn’t like he’d ever asked. Their conversations had never gone further than how he wanted his hair done and what stage makeup he wanted. It never went further than that, leaving him to wonder what else he didn’t know about her. 
He wondered what her biggest fears were, where she grew up, what her favorite color was. He wanted to know when she learned to play, who taught her, her favorite song. Watching her concentrate on the cords, he wanted to know what made her her. What made her more than some makeup artist. He wanted to know her. 
Y/n shook her head, messing up a cord. It had been ages since the last time she’d played and clearly, she was a little rusty. She looked up from the guitar, going to rub the knot out of her neck when her eyes widened in surprise at the sight in front of her. “Saul.” She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here? Do you guys need me to do touch ups or something?”
He shook his head, hair bouncing about as a smile formed on his lips. “No, no. I was just passing by… I didn’t know you played.” He pointed at the instrument in her lap. “What song were you playing?”
Y/n’s cheeks heated up, embarrassed by the situation she found herself in, “Callin’ Baton Rouge.’ It’s by this country band, you probably wouldn’t know.”
“Your probably right, but I think you did the song justice.”
“I wouldn’t call it justice, it was really far from it.”
Saul looked at her in disbelief. “You may be out of practice, but that was amazing.”
She gave him a small smile and stood from the couch with the guitar in hand. “Maybe for an amateur it’s good, but I ain’t no rockstar.” She placed the instrument back in its case, latching it shut. “I’m not that good.” 
Y/n stepped back from the case, twisting her fingers around as she glanced up at him. Suddenly, the confidence that she always collected around him, around the band, was gone as she stood in front of him. She suddenly felt vulnerable, fully exposed as if she had been stripped naked. 
Silence filled the space between them, neither knew what to say.
“Uh… Well, I better get going,” Saul said, running a hand through his hair. He stopped when Y/n raised a disapproving brow. “See you before the show, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she nodded.
He gave her a small smile before disappearing out of the bus.
Y/n was cemented in place as she watched him through the bus windows, her heart attempting to beat out of her chest and the room suddenly getting warmer. She wasn’t sure what was coming over her, but she knew it had everything to do with him.
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