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auroracalisto · 3 years

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Hey! If it is okay. Could I request an Arranged Marriage AU with Jaskier x insecure female reader, please? (Bonus points if it turns out to be a romantic loving marriage in the end with a pregnancy too if you’re comfortable with that) Thanks so much!

summary: follows the request

pairing: prince! jaskier x princess! insecure! reader

word count: 2k words

warnings: controlling mother, manipulative mother, insecure reader, female reader, arranged marriage AU

a/n: i did not put in a pregnancy because i felt like this was just going to go on forever. perhaps i’ll make a part two to include the pregnancy. and it’s not really romantic in this; it’s more of a realization between two parties that it could be romantic??

“What do you mean, my wedding?”

You stared incredulously at your mother, wondering what she had to say. Nothing that would come out of her mouth would be good.

She gave you a soft smile, her hand reaching out to touch the side of your face. “Now, now, [Your name],” she spoke, “you knew that this was only a matter of time. You are being wed to a man from another kingdom. It will unite our kingdoms and we will be stronger for it. Nothing you could do will stop it, my love. I know you are thinking of ways.”

Half of you knew that your mother did everything out of the love and pride she had for her kingdom. After your father died, it was only a matter of time before your mother projected her controlling ways onto the kingdom and onto you. This was proof enough. The other half of you stood there, in disbelief. You had grown up, hearing stories about how your mother and father fell in love with each other and were married on their own accord. But now, you were to be wed to a man you didn’t even know.

Everything inside of you buzzed with anxiety. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. All you could do was allow your mother to do what she set out to do in the first place. There was no changing her mind.

“May I at least know his name?”

“Jaskier.”

Your eyes shot open and you looked over at your mother, your eyes wide. Jaskier was the prince of a rather expansive kingdom. They had good fortune, power, and beautiful people. Not to mention that the prince, himself, was rather attractive.

Your blood ran cold and your palms began to sweat. “Mother, is this a good idea? Surely, I am not good enough to marry someone like him.”

She gave you what she believed to be a comforting smile before taking a hold of your hands. “They will be here in a week’s time. Your wedding will be in a fortnight, my love. Be prepared.”

The week in question went by faster than you had wanted it to. You stood by your mother in an uncomfortable dress, fit with the royal colors of your kingdom, waiting for the carriage that had brought Jaskier and his parents to a full stop.

Your mother nudged your elbow, sending you a look. She did this many times when she wanted you to stand up straight—you did just that.

You nervously watched as one of the coachmen hopped down from his seat, walking over to open the carriage door.

His parents stepped out, first. And then, Jaskier stepped out from behind them.

He’s pretty.

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you keep your eyes on Jaskier. He laid his eyes on you and he gave you a faint smile.

Neither of you wanted to be here, and that was obvious.

His parents began to converse with your mother, shortly after introducing the two of you to each other. Not that you would need it.

“If this is going to happen,” smiled Jaskier, “I’m glad to be able to marry such an exquisite beauty.”

That’s all it took for your cheeks to burn once more. You averted your gaze, clearing your throat in a very un-princess like manner. “I beg your pardon?” you asked, your teeth biting the inside of your cheek as to try and prevent you from saying anything else.

Jaskier smiled even more. “I realize this is unconventional. For both of us. But we do what’s best for our kingdoms. I hope so, anyway.”

“No… no, you’re right. My mother has talked about that many times with me. I know what we are doing is for the betterment of our lands. But,” you looked up at the man, furrowing your eyebrows. “I haven’t a clue why she chose me. Let alone to someone who could have anyone that he wanted.”

Jaskier couldn’t help his blush and he chuckled in response. “Well. Perhaps I can make it worth your while.”

—

And just like the week leading up to Jaskier’s arrival, the week to your wedding went by faster than you had expected.

Your wedding ceremony had been a blur. Jumbled thoughts, anxious feelings, nothing felt like it was going right. And now, you sat beside Jaskier, looking at those of your kingdoms joining together for the celebration.

“Princess,” Jaskier said, turning to face you. “Perhaps you should eat something. Your mother has been eying your plate ever since you sat down.”

You frowned and returned your gaze onto his. “She is making sure I do not eat everything.”

Jaskier fell silent for just a moment, a look of confusion washing over him. “What?”

You forced a smile after seeing your mother with a not-so-happy look. “Like I told you before, Jaskier. My mother does what she has to for the kingdom and for herself.”

“What does eating have to do with anything?”

You blinked slowly, thinking of an answer. But before you could say anything else, Jaskier’s father stood, toasting the two of you to a happy marriage. You and Jaskier drank to that, but it still didn’t stop his concerned look.

“We have the choice as to where we will live. Right?”

You looked at him, frowning. “Yes. My mother would never give up her crown willingly.”

“Then why don’t you come back to my kingdom with me? You will be able to have lots of good food, good atmosphere, and especially good company,” he gently nudged your arm with his elbow.

Your eyes widened and your cheeks felt hot. “I don’t see why not…”

Jaskier smiled at you, but there was something else beneath his smile that you couldn’t quite make out.

Everything your mother put onto you had happened so quickly. You were not sure if telling Jaskier yes would have been a good idea, but it was far too late to change your mind.

Shortly after the banquet had finished, Jaskier informed your parents that you would be traveling back with them to live in his palace.

Your mother seemed displeased, but you knew that deep down, she was glad. She would not have to worry about you ruining her image if you were not around her. And that would mean she would always have someone from her kingdom within Jaskiers’ palace. It worked out well, just like the arranged marriage.

—

You were only a couple of months into your marriage with Jaskier. His kingdom was just as beautiful as the stories you were told growing up. You hadn’t heard much from your mother, not that that was an issue. However, and this was something you had noticed from the time that you had arrived, Jaskier was a huge flirt. And it didn’t matter what their status, or who they were, really, he would flirt. And a part of you hated that. He was sweet to you. But he never talked to you the way he talked to other people. Perhaps that was a good thing. But the other side of you wished that he would treat you like what seemed to be his fleeting crushes.

You knew what these feelings were. Jealously. But it didn’t make sense. You weren’t supposed to have any sort of feelings towards him, were you? It would have posed a problem. That problem being, you weren’t good enough to like him as much as you were starting to.

What especially didn’t help were moments like this—where you were out with Jaskier in the kingdom and he flirted with people as you walked by them. As you passed the third girl Jaskier flirted with (who returned the flirtatious remarks), you found yourself growing increasingly upset with this. Something overcame you, lest it is called jealousy, and you suddenly grabbed ahold of Jaskier’s hand, turning him to face you.

His eyes were wide and he stared at you for a split second, trying to figure out what you were thinking.

“[Your name]?”

“Why don’t you talk to me like that? Am I—am I not good enough?”

He couldn’t help his smile that quickly formed. “Not good enough?” He let out a laugh, and he leaned forward to kiss your warm cheek. “You are too good for me to talk to you in such a manner. I couldn’t imagine being the reason for—”

“—if you aren’t going to talk to me in that manner, please refrain from talking to others in front of me in such a way.”

You let go of his hand and proceeded to walk past him, an angry look on your normally calm face.

“[Your name],” Jaskier quickly called after you, taking a hold of your hand once more. “Where is all of this coming from? I always believed you thought so little of me.”

Your eyes widened as you turned your head to look at him. “Jaskier,” you breathed out. “You truly are oblivious.” You squeezed your eyes shut as you gathered your words. “I never believed that I was good enough for you. You spend your time flirting with girls far prettier than I’ll ever be. Far thinner, far too beautiful. What am I to assume if you continue doing so? I never once thought that you would have been alarmed had I said something about it. What is all this, Jaskier? If I have hurt you in some way, could you not imagine what every passing comment does for me?”

“I—” Jaskier frowned deeply. “I realize that perhaps I should not have flirted with the women in passing. But in my defense, princess, never once did I stop to think that you would feel so strongly about something like this.”

You jerked your hand away, frowning. “Well. You should have.”

This time, instead of grabbing you and stopping you, Jaskier let you walk off. You made your way back to the castle and went straight for your quarters. You had nothing to offer the kingdom, let alone your husband who flirted with everything that walked. You sat down on the edge of your bed, a million thoughts racing through your mind.

He was right. Why did you feel so strongly about this? Why did you care? You were both in this marriage out of the necessity for your parents and for the kingdom. He should be allowed to flirt with whoever he chooses. So, why did it hurt so bad?

You were only alone for an hour with your thoughts. A knock brought you back to your bedroom, and you quickly cleared your throat and called out. “Come in.”

Jaskier opened the door and came in as soon as he heard you speak. He had realized that maybe he shouldn’t have flirted as much as he did, especially when he knew he felt so strongly about you.

“I have something to tell you, princess,” Jaskier spoke.

“So do I.”

Jaskier stared at you for just a moment, coming over to sit down beside you. “What do you have to tell me…?”

You closed your eyes, quickly taking a hold of his hand. “I do believe I’ve come to a conclusion. On why I feel so strongly about you.”

Jaskier began to blush. He couldn’t help it. That was similar to what he was about to admit.

He began to smile at you, and when you realized that he was smiling, your face began to heat up.

“What?”

“I do believe that I feel the same way, [Your name].”

You had never expected to fall in love with Jaskier, especially in the way that you were feeling now. Perhaps, the controlling nature of your mother was looking out for you, for once.

Pieces of Jaskier still could not fathom how you talked about yourself. You were just as beautiful as the women he flirted with, if not more. But now, he realized, he would have so much time to properly show you that, especially since, now, the two of you were on the same page.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier #dandelion #dandelion x reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #one shot #jaskier one shot #prince jaskier #reader #female reader #princess reader #insecure reader #arranged marriage au #arranged marriage #jaskier dandelion

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saundraswriting · 3 years

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Deprived Chapter 2: Fateful Day

SUMMARY: How is Yeon-Woo dealing with the increasing closeness of his probe when he has been taught to push them away? Yoo-Han pushes closer, concern for his mono making his disregard boundaries NOTES: This chapter is where the AU aspect begins. Yeon-Woo and Yoo-Han go on a date. WARNINGS: implications of self-harm, self-doubt, dom/sub undertones and praise kink

You can read it on Ao3.

Previous // Next

Deprived Masterlist // My Ao3 // My Masterlist

The day of the art show came, and with it was a missing Yoo-Han and a sullen Yeon-Woo. The former had an early meeting with his agency, or so he told everyone. He was really getting all the details of his afternoon date set up. He made sure that a delivery of groceries was scheduled for later in the evening so he could cook for Yeon-Woo once they got back to his place. Yoo-Han had a very detailed and lengthy plan to coddle and pamper the person who was quickly becoming the most important thing to him.

Yeon-Woo shuffled through the first half of school with a cloud over his head. He had been so happy the last few days, learning colors with Yoo-Han but even spending time with him and Min-Jae and Joo-Haeng. He was learning how to be a happy normal teenager. He was pleased that after year of failing to find a place to make his own, he found it on accident. 'I have to remember to thank Yoo-Han. He was the one who helped me see that I can be happy, that I deserve to be happy.'Yeon-Woo thought. The idea of his probe/possible boyfriend made him smile. Yeon-Woo had been worried that he said something the day before that made Yoo-Han upset, he had pulled away and he knew how that hurt him every time. He just was so surprised by his own thoughts, they scared him. He wasn't supposed to feel happiness when it came to his probe. He was supposed to feel nothing. He tried to shake his melancholy by the time lunch rolls around knowing that Joo-Haeng has probably reported his mood to Yoo-Han. The three of them seem to be his personal musketeers, differing to Yoo-Han when it came to making a decision. To avoid the questions about his mood and lack of appetite, Yeon-Woo treks outside to the small flower garden the school maintained.

Yeon-Woo.

My Yeon-Woo

My Yeon-Woo, who is the softest.

Are you there?

The texts come in one after the other giving him no time to respond. Yeon-Woo waits a moment but when no more come he answers. I am. It's lunch. How did you meeting go?

Well. I heard you're in need of some cheering up.

You heard wrong. I am doing fine.

You only say you are fine when you are not. You think it will discourage me from asking. All it does is make me pay more attention. My Yeon-Woo. I said we'll be together forever. Remember?

Yeon-Woo remembered. He remembered crying softly into a shoulder that was there because it wanted to be, not out of obligation to be there. He remembered the bright smile, visible even with the mask. He remembered the tremble in Yoo-Han's voice, full of happiness and warmth and affection. Yeon-Woo is struck with the powerful urge to see Yoo-Han, to feel him under his fingers, to hear him murmur softly in his ear. I remember. I want to see you. Yeon-Woo texted back. He was forgetting more frequently why he should be less eager to see and feel and hear his probe.

My lovely Yeon-Woo. When you say things like that, it makes me the happiest person in the world. What if I told you that you could see me? I have a date planned for us. I will be picking you up right after school. So don't be late.

Yeon-Woo spluttered at his phone for a few seconds before texting back a jumble of words that he hoped came across as agreeing. After a few more minutes, any texts he sent with questions about the date were read but ignored. Any texts that he sent not about the date were promptly answered, which Yeon-Woo took correctly as a sign to stop asking about the date. He went back to class after talking to Yoo-Han a bit longer, steps much lighter and the cloud over his head gone.

Joo-Haeng sent Yoo-Han a quick text to let him know about the mood shift and could feel the pride and smugness through the phone.

Yeon-Woo was out the door the second the chimes began, he had somewhere to be after all. Min-Jae agreed to handle his clean-up for the day-citing the grandfather told him to be prepared for this-with a wave of his hand. Joo-Haeng told him to leave his bag, he would take it home and bring it back. Yeon-Woo was met at the gates be the familiar silhouette of Yoo-Han. Yeon-Woo hurried even faster, coming to a stop right in front of him. Yeon-Woo reached out and hesitated, wanting to touch but unsure of how to initiate affection. Yoo-Han smiled before pulling his hand to his cheek and nuzzling, pressing a mask covered kiss to his palm.

"Hello, my darling. Are you ready? I have a big day planned." Yoo-Han said. He laced his fingers with Yeon-Woo's before walking down the street.

"I am a little nervous. I have never been on a date." Yeon-Woo confessed to the sidewalk. Yoo-Han almost stopped, the shot of possessiveness and pride making him ditch the whole idea and take him straight home. He shook those thoughts out of hiss head.

"I am thrilled that I get to be the first and only then. I have everything planned out for us. I have everything covered too. First we are going to an exhibition. I plan on taking my mask of for it though, once we are inside. That is all I am telling you know though." Yoo-Han said. He squeezed Yeon-Woo's hand tightly before the made their way to the art show.

Once they got close, Yoo-Han took of his mask. A testament to how long they had been working on Yeon-Woo's color rushes meant he didn't pass out. They arrived and Yeon-Woo could feel the excitement bubbling. Yoo-Han held out two tickets, while Yeon Woo snapped a few pictures. They were both given stubs to keep. Yeon-Woo decided that minute he was keeping it forever. He was going to start a scrapbook full of his memories with Yoo-Han to keep forever, for when he was ripped from this happiness.

The two boys without a care in the world took their time going through the different rooms. They took videos and pictures, trying to immortalize the moment. Yeon-Woo lingered constantly, trying to etch the colors in his mind. Trying not to think about when he was alone once more, all the evidence of the day would be as monochromatic as everything else, for without Yoo-Han there was no color, nor a reason to see it. Yeon-Woo pushed aside those thoughts again, thriving in the moment, surrounded by vibrant colors, given to him by Yoo-Han, given only to see him smile. In one room, Yoo-Han pulled their laced hands to his mouth pressing a kiss to Yeon-Woo's knuckles. The affection in Yoo-Han's gaze was enough to make his heart skip a beat. I would do anything to make sure he always looks at me like that.

Oh.

I love him.

The thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Yeon-Woo knew what loving his probe lead to. It lead to possessiveness and aggression and death. Yoo-Han was too bright to only light up Yeon-Woo's world of shadows. That didn't leave many options. He would have to disappear, before he became the monster he feared.

"Yeon-Woo, are you okay? We are almost done. Think you could finish the exhibition, or is it too much?" Yoo-Han's voice split his thoughts like an axe. Yoo-Han looked so soft and warm and fond that Yeon-Woo couldn't think for ruining this day for a second. "Let us both have this day. Then come tomorrow, I swear that I will be gone from your life. I will protect you, even if I am the thing you need protected from.'Yeon-Woo swore to himself.

"I am okay. Lets finish the show, but I am getting hungry." Yeon-Woo said. Yoo-Han smiled at him before lacing their hands together again.

"Okay. Then let me finish working on our dinner plans while we finish the show. I know you are probably getting tired but hang on a little while longer." Yoo-Han began tapping away on his phone and a few minutes later as the entered the last room, The both gasped in wonder.

The last room was a constantly shifting projection of a myriad of colors. They shifted and bloomed and dripped and grew and rose with every breath a different color every minute. It was beautiful and seemed to never end, the two boys began dancing together in the room, holding each other close. Yeon-Woo holding tighter than ever, knowing if only in his head that this was the last time they would be together. He wouldn't allow himself to be the source of Yoo-Han's pain and anguish, not when he had such a bright future ahead of him. After lingering for several moments in the final show room then finally exited. They did stop at the gift shop. Both boys buying a small print of one of their favorite pieces. The paused on the sidewalk, Yoo-Han checking something on his phone with a bright grin.

"Okay, sweetheart. Our next stop is out final stop. Your place. I had some stuff delivered so I could make you dinner." Yoo-Han for the first time in all their months together looked nervous. Yeon-Woo felt pure love rush through his veins, no one has cooked for him in years. When his aunt was home she usually went out for dinner with work friends or contacts, and left him alone.

"That sounds perfect. Come on." Yeon-Woo tugged on their clasped hands, and Yoo-Han stumbled a bit laughing at his eagerness. He slipped his mask on, to hid from the public and dutifully followed.

The walk was short, Yeon-Woo unlocked the door and security alarm, Yoo-Han memorizing it for reasons. He stood right behind him with the two bags of groceries in his hands. They took off their shoes, Yoo-Han unpacking everything while Yeon-Woo changed into more comfortable clothing. When he came back down, he had in his arms a bundle of cloth.

"Yoo-Han, I have some clothes you could change into. I also pulled out a spare futon and some pajamas for later if you want. I don't know what the rest of the night holds for us but, I figured be prepared?" Yeon-Wo trailed off, unsure.

"Do you want me to spend the night? I had one more thing planned for you this evening after dinner. I didn't want to be to presumptuous and demand to stay the night. I will if you want me too." Yoo-Han cupped his cheek in his hand, pressing their foreheads together.

Yeon-Woo's eyes watered slightly at the soft touch. "I would like nothing more than for you to stay." Yeon-Woo blinked the tears away. "Take these and get changed. We can hang your uniform on my door so it stays clean." Yeon-Woo said. Yoo-Han nodded in agreement. He took the offered clothes and went in to the bathroom. Yeon-Woo walked over to his mother's portrait and stared at it. 'That man is Go Yoo-Han. He is my probe. I love him. I want to protect him. I hope you approve.'Yeon-Woo was distracted staring at the painting that he didn't hear Yoo-Han come back.

"Who is this? Your sister?" Yoo-Han's voice wasn't muffled by the mask,

"No. My mother. My aunt's sister. She went missing almost 5 years ago. It was what made my aunt begin Black and White show. She went out on an errand and never came back. She was trying to teach me yellow that day. She would try to teach me like you do, not just the color but what makes it that color scientifically and emotionally too. She would be happy I met you, even though dad died of illness a year before she went missing." Yeon-Woo spoke with a carefully distance, trying to smother the emotions the story brought up with detachment. He didn't turn around and face Yoo-Han, not yet.

"You suffered so much and you still try to carry it all on you own. You aren't alone anymore. You said it yourself, she would be glad we met." You look like her. I can see it a bit in your faces." Yoo-Han said, happiness ringing in his tone.

"You are right. I'm not alone." Yeon-Woo took a deep breath. "Can we wait a minute on dinner? I want to see her. My dad painted that for her years ago. Said that is what she wore the day they met." Yeon-Woo didn't dare turn around, not wanting to see Yoo-Han's face at his eagerness and heartbreak.

"Of course. Do you want to sit down. Here is a blanket. You sit, I will show you my face. If you want to talk I am here, if not then we move on to dinner." Yoo-Han wrapped Yeon-Woo up in a blanket and plopped him down on the small bench across from the uncovered painting. Yeon-Woo looked up into his best friend's face, into his probe's face and promptly passed out from his second color rush.

When he came to, he first looked at Yoo-Han-always the first thing he looks at-then at the painting that has haunted him for almost 5 years. He began crying quietly, seeing the yellow headband and red lips and sky blue dress and brown shoes. He was unaware he was talking through the distant memories, working through the trauma and despair while clinging to his future like a drowning man. Yoo-Han felt his heart break all over again for this small sad boy who only wanted simple things in life-someone to love and someone to love him. Yoo-Han felt a red-hot anger scorch through him when he thought of everything his perfect Yeon-Woo had gone through to get to this point right here, breaking down in his arms over a painting for a woman he never got to mourn because of his deluded aunt's belief that she is still alive.

Minutes or hours later, Yeon-Woo finally stopped crying. He loosened his grip on Yoo-Han swaying to his feet. "I am going to wash my face. Then we can get started on dinner." Yoo-Han got up and started rummaging through cupboards to find what he needed to get dinner made.

Not a minute later, Yeon-Woo settled into the kitchen to begin helping make food. It was slow goings at first, Yeon-Woo was getting distracted by the food and the colors. They worked as a good team together. He had to keep pushing down the desire and thoughts of this being the rest of his days. He wasn't going to open that door, it would be too hard to shut again and he was already pushing Yoo-Han's luck with as much time as they have been spending with each other. He didn't want anything else to tip the scales, to make him into a monster.

"Food looks and tastes better when you can see what it is supposed to look like. Most days I can only stomach one meal, everything looks gray and bland."

Yeon-Woo admitted quietly. "My Aunt doesn't have monochromatic vision but she isn't home often so a lot of my day to day is handled by me. And sometimes, food is hard. sometimes living is hard." Yeon-Woo continued the confession, unaware of what he was doing to Yoo-Han's heart. "You make it easy. I will never be able to thank you for everything you have done for me." Yeon-Woo tried to smile at Yoo-Han but knew it was shaky and weak. Yoo-Han felt his breath catch in his throat. 'What am I supposed to say to that? My poor Yeon-Woo, depressed and alone, believing he doesn't deserve the things that make life worth living.'Yoo-Han was brushed his hands off before pulling the other boy into a hug, squeezing tight, trying to press the broken pieces of this boy back together.

"Thank you for telling me. I am glad you trust m enough to talk to me. And you are my Yeon-Woo, my mono, you will never have to thank me for anything. Now let's finish dinner. I think the rest of the night will be much needed, and I want to have enough time to do it right." Yoo-Han pressed Yeon-Woo against the counter, lifting him by the hips and sitting him on the counter. "Now, just sit there and look pretty. Tonight is all about you."

Dinner was amazing. Yoo-Han was rather skilled in the kitchen, handling several things at once, letting nothing burn. He only let Yeon-Woo handle stirring from the counter after listening to him nag about it, citing he felt useless. Once finished, they sat at the small table off to to the right of the kitchen, Yeon-Woo eating at a snail's pace. Yoo-Han didn't mind, he knew from now on they would be eating together somewhere private. With or without a color rush, Yoo-Han would make it his mission to let Yeon-Woo begin enjoying the simple things again. They chatted through dinner, talking about school and kpop training and the art show. It was intimate and pleasant. Yeon-Woo felt warm and fuzzy, he felt cared for for the first time in years.

"The next and final part to this is a bath. I want this day to be all about pampering and coddling you, so I figured that I could give you a bath. What do you think?" Yoo-Han offered. Yeon-Woo barely blinked before he nodded, a bright grin on his face.

"Okay, let me get the bath ready. Can you get me some towels and your pajamas please, sweetheart?" Yoo-Han didn't miss the slight blush on his face. Yeon-Woo got up and tried to gather the dishes, a hand on his arm stopped him. "What did I ask you to do, dearest? I will handle this. You go on." Yoo-Han said. Yeon-Woo nodded again, the endearment making him flush again. Yoo-Han went to the bathroom controls to hear the room and floor, he gathered all the necessary bottles, and began filling the tub, using water that was a little to hot since they wouldn't be getting in right away. Yoo-Han rolled his pant legs up and waited for Yeon-Woo. He came in a few seconds later, clothes in a bundle and dressed in only a robe.

Yoo-Han smiled softly. "You did a great job, love. Now, come here and sit down. I'll wash you hair and back before you get in." Yoo-Han pointed to the stool, turning the water on. Yeon-Woo blushed deeply, before settling down on the stool. Yoo-Han filed that information away for later use. Yoo-Han had him test the water, before spraying it on his head. He wet his hair and picked up some lemon lavender shampoo massaging it in deeply. the lather smelled nice, filling the whole room. Yoo-Han rubbed his fingers into Yeon-Woo's scalp, small circles to simulate a massage. He could feel the tension easing in Yeon-Woo's shoulders and back.

I'm gonna rinse now. Keep you eyes closed, sweetie." Yoo-Han waited for the quiet hum of agreement before gently pressing on Yeon-Woo's forehead, resting him on his shoulder. With soft fingers and gentle motions he rinsed the shampoo out. He grabbed some conditioner and rubbed that in just as softly. "Okay, precious. I'm gonna scrub you down okay? I got the cloth right here and I'll handle everything okay, honey?" Yeon-Woo let out a small whimper at the endearment. He leaned against Yoo-Han even more. "I have the bath ready. Let's get you in, cupcake." Yoo-Han helped Yeon-Woo into the tub, using his foot to slide the soap over. He put a towel to cushion Yeon-Woo's head and began washing him. He did his arms in nice, smooth strokes. He washed his torso, legs, toes, fingers, neck. He nudged him forward and cleaned his back. Yeon-Woo was just shy of asleep. Yoo-Han felt pride and possessiveness run through him again, 'I made him look like this. I am the only one to see him like this.'.

"Hey, sleepyhead. All done. You with me, sugarplum? Can you get up? Let's get you dressed and tucked into bed." Yoo-Han helped him out of the bath and into his clothes. Yoo-Han helped him into bed, swiping the pajamas that Yeon-Woo had set out earlier. Yeon-Woo was laying under his covers, eyes soft, affection making his gaze syrupy and thick. Yoo-Han came back in, the direct gaze loosening his shoulders. Yeon-Wo looked pampered and soft and happy and all because of Yoo-Han.

"Yoo-Han, thank you for today. I have never had a day like today. I am glad that I met you." Yeon-Woo murmured. "You can't ever leave me, Yoo-Han. I would go crazy without you." Yeon-Woo's eyes closed, breaths evening out. Yoo-Han settled into the futon on the floor, content that he made Yeon-Woo happy.

#saundrasays #saundraswriting #color rush #kdrama #yoo han x yeon woo #go yoo han #color rush fluff #color rush fanfiction

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anotheronechicagobog · 5 years

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I’m Sorry Pt. 2 Matt Casey x Reader

Warnings: angst, mention of death, child neglect, mental illness, low self confidence, daddy issues

by: @anotheronechicagobog

“You have to know why I’m here.”

“To tell me you’ve realised your mistake and broken up with that firefighter.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You haven’t changed. At all! That stint in prison did nothing!”

“Y/N-”

“No. It is my turn to talk.” Your voice was cold and violent. “I hate myself and it is your fault. I felt abandoned by you and I saw you everyday. Nothing I did was ever good enough, first you put all your energy into Justin, and then Erin. I was the best student in my grade for seven years straight, was that important to you? No. Did it catch your attention? No. I thought there was something wrong with me for my entire life. I broke my own soul trying to impress you. I put myself through hell to try and earn your pride. Late study nights starting years before they should have, I spent so much time with mami trying to imitate her because you loved her so much and I wanted some of that affection to be directed towards me. When she died, I lost the only parent I’d ever had, because you didn’t do jack. The only thing that you contributed to the person I’ve become is making sure that I know that I am worthless. That I am nothing. That I do not deserve love. That the world would be better off without me. That I deserve the excruciating pain that you embroidered into my spirit. When I was 18, I joined the academy. Did you know that? Wait, why am I even bothering asking? Of course you didn’t, when has my life been of any interest to you? I graduated at the top of my class, I broke three records. There were precinct captains fighting over where I’d be assigned. I got assigned to the 17th district. I was asked to take the detective’s exam after six months. I would’ve been the youngest detective in the CPD. But it was during the meeting after I passed the exam, when my captain was telling me how intelligent and adaptable I was, how he was so proud of me, and said that I reminded him of you. I felt like throwing up. All that I could remember were the nights gang leaders would meet in our dining room to “talk business” with you. I remember all the guns, drugs, and money that was stashed in various places around the house. Yeah, that’s right, I knew. I just let it slide when mami was dying. I remembered when you were taking Justin and I home from school and you pulled over to kill someone. I don’t know who they were, but I don’t care that wasn’t nor will it ever be, okay. The fact that I reminded my captain and so many others in the CPD of you made me realize that I needed to get the hell out of there before I became you. I quit on the spot. I left the force that day and never looked back. I joined the military the day after I legally changed my last name, became a medic. I decided to become a doctor to help people, and I didn’t have the money to pay for med school, so the military seemed like the best way to do it. When I was honourably discharged, with numerous awards under my belt, I was a sergeant. But still I’m not proud of my accomplishments, I should be, but I’m not. No, I’m just standing around waiting for the shoe to drop, for everyone around me, including Matt, to realize that I am nothing but the scum on the bottom of their shoes and that I do not deserve anything even remotely simulating happiness. And that is all thanks to you. I love Matt, so much, and I want a future with him so badly, but because of you, all I’m doing is waiting for him to leave. You were a terrible father, and I blame myself for it. I blame myself for all the illegal shit you did, for mami’s death, for Justin’s alcohol and drug problems, for Erin being brought in as my replacement...” Tears had started streaming down you face when you started your rant, but now, when you’d finally voiced out loud your thoughts, you couldn’t hold back your sobs. “I’m sorry.” It was all you could choke out before turning and sprinting to your car.

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When you made it back to your apartment you were worn out. You just wanted to curl up in your bed let the remainder of your tears free. You’d passed the last stair and were met with the sight of Matt at your door. You could feel the dam you’d managed to patch up in the car threatening to burst again at the sight of him. You sniffled and he turned around at the sound. “Y/N? Are you okay?” It only took a couple of determined strides for him to reach you and put his hands delicately on each side of your face. All that you could think about were your own words, and this time you couldn’t ignore them, bury them deep in the recesses of your mind and hope they never resurface. “What happened? Your shift ended an hour ago, where were you?”

“I-I was w-i-ith my fa-ther... and we- I just- It’s over Matt. I-I’m sor-ry.”

“What? No, Y/N, no. Did your father say something? Did he do something? Did I do something? Y/N, please, don’t do this. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“It’s over, you didn’t do a-anything wro-ng. I pr-promise. You were ama-zing.” You kissed him on the cheek, your having officially become niagara falls, and ran to your door. You managed to unlock it, get inside, and lock it before Matt could process what was happening. He started banging on your door, calling your name, begging you to open your door, to listen, to talk. You slide down to the floor and let all your tears free, your sobs drowning out Matt’s desperate pleas.

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“Why did you break up with Matt?” You woke up on the floor, still in your clothes from yesterday with dried up tears on your face. You got up and decided that a shower and some food would make you feel better, in that order. When you were almost finished eating you were interrupted by Erin calling your phone. “Sorry Erin, I’m still waking up, what’s going on?”

“Y/N are you okay? It’s noon, you’re always up at six.”

“It’s what?!” You checked the time and, surely enough, it was noon, give or take a few minutes. “Um, okay, last night was rough, it must’ve messed up my sleep cycle, hell I slept on the floor... Now, what’s going on? How do you know that I broke up with Matt?”

“You slept on the floor? What? I- you know what? We’ll discuss that later. Anyway Matt is here, at the 21st, yelling at Voight in his office for making you break up with him. So, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. He clearly still wanted me to, but I didn’t break up with Matt because he told me to.” Your voice went quiet, remembering last night clearly, unfortunately.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” Your voice was still quiet, hurt. “I think you should come down here.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

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You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you walked up to the desk in the 21st. You started to address the woman who’s nametag said Platt “Hi, I’m here to-”

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes.”

“Go on up.” You heard a buzzing sound and made your way to the door, not at all ready for what you were about to walk into.

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“FOR THE LAST TIME, WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HER?!”

“I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING!”

“HONESTLY VOIGHT DO YOU EXPECT-”

“He’s telling the truth, Matt.” Everyone turned to you. “Y/N” He choked out, blue eyes pleading and sad. “Matt, let’s do this somewhere else.”

“No. Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I’m not good enough for you, okay? I shouldn’t have let our relationship drag out this long, it was selfish of me.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about? You are more than good enough for me, I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who isn’t you. So please, talk to me, how on earth did you come to that conclusion?”

“It’s just something I’ve always known.”

“No, it’s not.” Your father butted into the conversation. “It’s my fault that she thinks like that, that she believes that about herself. I was a terrible father and Y/N’s paying the price. Y/N, you deserve happiness. You... are better than me at everything, but you don’t have the self-confidence to go along with your achievements and that is my fault. You are an amazing, intelligent young woman and I’m the one who failed, Y/N, not you. My biggest regret is the way I treated you and that I chose not to be a part of your life and accomplishments. I’m really proud of you.”

“Do you really mean it? You can’t joke about something like this, dad.”

“With all of my heart.”

“Y/N, I shouldn’t have interfered with your relationship. You clearly love Lieutenant Casey and he clearly loves you. I was wrong, there’s no excuse for my behaviour. I’m sorry.”

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You sat across from Matt in the Mills family diner. You were pushing your food around on your plate, the weight of his stare making you nervous to look up. Neither of you had spoken since you agreed to leave the 21st together, you decided to be the one to break the ice. “I’m in love with you and I’ve never faced anything more terrifying in my life.” You heard Matt splutter, spitting his coffee back into his mug. “I’ve never felt like I’ve been worth much and I just, I love you so much, and after the confrontation I had with my father I just realized that I couldn’t wait around for you to leave me.”

“You mean more to me than anyone else has, the past twelve hours have been absolute hell without you. I’m in love with you too. I have to admit, though, what you think of yourself really concerns me. I still love you like crazy, but I think you need some professional help.”

“How could you still love me knowing that I’m a basket case?”

“You’re not a basket case, everyone has their own issues, I guess the difference with mine is that you already knew about them and that I’ve been going to therapy.”

“I’ll... talk to Dr. Charles tomorrow morning.” Matt sighed in relief and the tension washed out of his eyes and shoulders. He reached his hand across the table and held yours tenderly. “I love you so much Y/N.”

#matt casey #matt casey x reader #hank voight #hank voight x daughter!reader #erin lindsay #One Chicago #Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #chicago med

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kenzia · 5 years

Text

Ghosting

ANOTHER DRABBLE BECAUSE WHY NOT - REDDIE AND STENBROUGH - UN-BETAED AGAIN BECAUSE WHY NOT

Bill held his hands loosely at two and ten on the steering wheel of the Loser’s red van. They were driving straight for the pink-orange sunset just like every happy ending, but this was just the start. The start of the Losers Club away from Derry.

“Billy, how much longer we got?” Stan’s feet were thrown up on the dashboard his shoes scuffing the already wrecked plastic that covered the glovebox. Stan looked comfortable curled up shotgun.

“We have no pl-pl-place to stay tonight. It’s van n-night so we’re going as far as we ca-can.” A collective groan echoed throughout the box. Bill smiled nevertheless he was just happy that he was experiencing this with his friends.

“I don’t want to sleep in the van while it's moving again. I fucking love this monster, but I fucking hate this monster when trying to sleep back here with Eddie!” Richie yelled from the third row.

“How about you pull over and we can put the seats down. That was fun the other night when we did it huh?” Stan pulled his feet down so he could stretch his hands up to the ceiling. They had been going for some time.

“If we wuh-wuh-want to get to California by the e-e-end of this week we gotta go a l-little farther tonight.” Bill pushed on even though he knew he was losing the battle. The other six, more like five since Mike had been sleeping on the floor since hour three, all were calling for Bill to pull to the side. “Fine fine. You all know the only r-r-reason I’m agreeing is because tuh-tuh-tomorrow we’re driving through the night.” Another chorus of groans.

“You need a break more than any of us do hon,” Stan muttered happily. He sounded as drugged out as Bill felt. The van was pulled to a stop on the edge of some back road in Nebraska. Cheers filled the enclosed area and several hands patted Bill on the shoulders followed by calls of good job dad. “Okay everyone out. Stretch your legs.” All windows rolled down and all doors flew open. There’s nothing like seven straight hours in the car. “Beverly and Ben, you get the third row tomorrow because I’m not listening to Eddie bitch anymore.”

“Okay fuck that.” Bev was laying out on the cracking road like a starfish. Richie’s sunglasses were slipping down her nose, but her freckles stood in the golden glow of the sunset. She looked ethereal. “Richie and Eddie lost Uno so they sit in the back. Stan won Uno so he sits in the front. It’s the rules of Uno.”

“That you fucking made up along the way!” Eddie yelled from his spot on the ground. He was sitting in the tall grass far away from the road. His legs were stretched out in front of him covered in bruises and bandaids from their adventure in Iowa.

“Oh shut the fuck up Eddie. If you hadn’t been literally riding Richie’s dick the entire time maybe you could’ve won but -”

“At least I wasn’t riding his dick in the van for everyone to hear!” Bill looked over the arguing group with an unexplainable sense of pride. They were closer than ever now that senior year was done, and with each hour in the car, they became more and more inseparable. It was perfect.

“I love you.” Richie was sitting on the edge of the road with his back pushed up against one of the back wheels. He was grinning ear to ear in the now silence that fell over the group. His glasses were ditched years ago for a happy pair of contacts, but now without the blocker, his blue eyes glowed wet and happy. “Y’all are my best friends.”

“Y’ all,” The group replied in unison.

Richie and Stan argued non stop as they pushed the seats into the floor of the van. It wasn’t even about the seats it was just Richie and Stan arguing about anything and everything just like they always did. Bev came over to sit next to Eddie when she realized that the small boy wouldn’t come out into the road with her. Bill sat next to a half passed out Mike.

“Mikey do you hear what this rascal is saying?” Richie called from the inside of the van. Stan was pacing around looking hella pissed.

“I don’t think it’s safe to sleep with the windows down.”

“We’re in bumfuck nowhere Stanny boy!” Richie screamed throwing open doors as Stan rushed to close them. “Maybe if you’re lucky a little birdie will fly in bird boy.” Richie was cackling at this point. Eddie sighed before pushing himself up from the dirt.

“Okay, Rich settle down. Stan, we need air, and Richie it’s dangerous to leave the windows open. We’ll crack the windows,” Eddie said holding onto his boyfriend’s shoulder tightly. Mike threw his first up from his place on the ground in agreements. It was the most movement he had made since the Losers had peeled him off the floor.

“Mike’s agreed. It’s settle.” Richie clapped loudly. Stan looked like he was going to spit on his friend.

They began to set up for the night. Bill made sure their bags were tied down to the top of the van tight while the rest of the group pushed and fluffed all of the blankets for the inside of the van. Not one car had passed them since they stopped. It felt like they were the only ones in the world.

“Bill, I think they’re good enough. Come help us set up.” Stan’s voice called from behind Bill who couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend.

“I just don’t want to lose an-an-anything chickadee.” Stan rolled his eyes at the nickname, but still leaned forward so they could kiss. Bill loved to kiss Stan and standing outside in the sweltering heat and golden sun they had their first “alone time” in a week.

“Mom! Dad! Mikey won’t give me my pillow!” Beverly screamed while throwing her legs out to kick the couple. Stan leaned back to press his forehead against Bill’s muttering something about family vacations. With a deep breath, Stan crawled back into the van to their group.

“Get in here.” Stan’s hand came out to grab at Bill. The leader finally allowed himself to bend down and crawl after his boyfriend. “Mike just give Bev her pillow back.”

“It’s the best one and it’s not fair she gets it every night.” Mike held the red pillow close to his chest while Beverly grabbed at him. Ben wasn’t minding his girlfriend and seemed to be engaged in a conversation with Richie who had a sleeping Eddie in between his legs. It was a complete mess.

“Guh-guh-give Bev her pillow. We can buy you one when we p-p-pass the next Walmart,” Bill sighed making sure Mike gave up the pillow before he allowed himself to relax.

They were sitting in silence for the first time in hours on some Nebraskan back road. The sun was barely above the ground and it would be dark in the next hour. Bill got one good look around the circle. They were all so old now. Too old to jump in the quarry and too old to play in the barrens, not that they ever wanted to anymore. Old enough where the prom was a past thought, and bullies were back in the day. Bill would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt.

“Remember when Eddie threw his fanny pack over the quarry?” Richie looked around at all of them with a soft smile. The boy was still asleep in his lap his hair curling around his face now long and unmanaged.

“He wasn’t even saying anything,” Mike added with a laugh forgetting about the pillow situation.

“He just screamed for like a minute straight.” Stan leaned back against the wall of the car next to Bill with a smile. “I thought it was Richie when I first arrived, but there Eddie was screeching and throwing pill bottles everywhere.”

“Shit, we wuh-wuh-were like 14.” Bill rubbed at his face. Apparently, all of them were thinking about their age as well. “I just r-r-r-remember Richie’s face clear as duh-duh-day. He looked like he s-s-saw God.”

“I thought I did. I looked at him and realized that I was going to marry that boy one day even if I had to lock him in my basement.” Bev squealed loudly at the word marriage, but before anyone could say anything about it Richie pulled Eddie’s body up to the smaller boy’s face was by his chest. “Eds we’re talking about you.”

“Woopty-fucking-do Rich, what’s new?” Eddie muttered his voice heavy with sleep.

“When you threw your fanny pack off the quarry and I fell in love with you did you know?” Eddie smiled to himself but still held his eyes closed.

“I knew something changed, but I didn’t know that you wanted to marry me.” Richie flushed while the rest of the losers howled with laughter. They fell into a brief silence before Eddie pushed himself up wide awake on Richie’s lap. “Remember when Stan thought that Bill was in love with Bev.”

“Hey, that was totally understandable for me to think,” Stan muttered, letting his head fall across Bill’s shoulder. “They kissed two times, and Bill kept in touch with her the most over the school year.”

“We just talked about you and Ben. Mainly how Bill thought you were in love with Mike.” Bev was now laying across the length of the truck all her limbs stretched out. It was comfortable. “William actually believed you were in love with Michael.”

“Beverly it’s still not as desperate as you were when you asked Benjamin to the dance. It was the first day of school. Homecoming wasn’t for like two months,” Stan spit back without malice. He was right though, it was very desperate. Bill just remembered Ben being so flustered and nervous. He said yes, of course, but the two decided to ignore each other for the next week. It was horrible.

“Nothing will ever be as bad as Richard’s promposal for senior year.” This wound was still fresh due to it only happening a few months prior. Richie groaned loudly hiding his face in Eddie’s neck. Eddie was shaking with laughter.

“The balloons were everywhere, and don’t even get me started on the glitter!” Ben punched Richie on the shoulder, but the boy was too busy being embarrassed. Bill did something really simple for his promposal. Taking Stan out bird watching was just enough for him to say yes thank God. Richie was different though he had to do something big for his “baby boy”.

“Imagine being the one who had to attach all those balloons to the ceiling.”

“Imagine huh-huh-having to sneak into the principal's office.”

“It wasn’t even a good song!”

“Hey, yes it was kind of horrible, but none of us will ever forget it. Eddie won’t forget it and that’s all that matters. Make something last in my sweetheart’s mind.” Richie kissed Eddie’s temple roughly.

“Who said I won’t forget?” Another round of laughter from the whole group.

It was dark now, but they could view the outlines of each other. Ben had fallen asleep first using Bev’s chest as a pillow, much to the amusement of the Losers. Richie went down next with his glasses still hanging off his nose. Mike was curled up sharing the red pillow with Bev who was snoring loudly. Eddie had tried to stay in the conversation with Bill and Stan, but he couldn’t help nodding off with Richie’s arms around him.

“We should sleep if you want to drive through the night tomorrow,” Stan muttered followed by a long yawn. He was buried in Bill’s neck. Bill had his body wrapped around his boyfriend getting a view at the ceiling. Richie and Eddie had been sleeping sitting upright and there was no doubt they would feel it the next morning.

“Yeah, you’re right.” They shuffled together. The car wasn’t big enough for the entire group, but who really cared if Richie’s legs had to weave over or under their bodies or if Mike had to sleep half in the front seat.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The next day they would continue moving forth away from Derry. Away from memories of Georgie, the clown, Eddie’s mom, Richie’s parents, Bev’s house, Mike’s farm, and their fears. This was so much bigger because every day started without fear.

It was really the start of the Losers Club.

#it chapter 2 #drabble #it chapter one #writing #reddie #stenbrough #bill denbrough #stanley uris #richie tozier #Eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #r + e #fanfic #losers club

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runaway-horses · 5 years

Text

Rainbow Colored Love

Word Count: 1,765

A/N: Me? Self-projecting? Never. (Read; I absolutely am) This took me in a lot of directions in one day before I settled on what I have now. (Yes, I wrote this in one day, and yes, I am exhausted.) Happy Pride to everybody! This fic means a lot to me just because I made Virgil non-binary, like myself, and I hope y’all enjoy it.

Warnings: One use of the F-word, Sympathetic Deceit but he’s only mentioned twice and both times off-screen. I think that’s it? Un-beta read, all mistakes are the result of writing this past midnight.

Tags: @pippippippin, @a-cure-for-sentience, @stormcrawler75, @princeyssash, @quoth-the-sparrow, @theresneverenoughfandoms, @queer-guineapig

Virgil sits at the end of their driveway, head tilted back, eyes shut. The harsh June sun beats down on them, but Virgil is enjoying it. Normally, they would find the heat oppressive. It made wearing their signature hoodie uncomfortable (and according to Patton, dangerous) and the Florida sun was not kind on their pale skin.

But it's hard to muster up any sort of negative feelings today, not even towards the sun.

A smile splits their face as they hear the distinctive rumble of their boyfriend's car making its way down the road. Virgil sits up and squints at the dark blue van rolling to a stop in front of them. Their boyfriend steps out and runs a hand through his blue hair, missing it up. Virgil feels a pang of fondness in their chest at the very sight of him.

"Logan!" They call, standing gracefully. Logan looks over to them and he smiles big, dropping his hand. “Hello darling,” Logan greets, his eyes bright behind his glasses. Virgil walks up to him and tilts their head back to look him in the eye. As much as they liked to grumble about it (and as much as Roman teased them about it), they loved how Logan was just a head taller than them. It meant Virgil could tuck their head right under his chin and breathe in the familiar scent of their boyfriend. (It also made them feel safe, when Logan would wrap his arms around them and press a kiss to the top of their head- yeah. That was nice too.)

Logan’s hands are cool against Virgil’s warm skin as he gently cups their face and kisses their forehead. “Are you ready to go, starshine?” Virgil hums in affirmation and bounds over to the passenger side of Logan’s door, sliding into the car and ignoring Logan’s fond chuckle. Virgil tries not to bounce in their seat as Logan backs the car out of their driveway, and they reach into their pocket for their fidget spinner. They spin it around and enjoy both the motion and the whirr before turning to Logan.

“I want to dye my hair,” They say, abruptly. They’re surprised by Logan’s smile (Logan is extra smiley today, usually it takes a bit more to get their stoic boyfriend to show emotion. Although Virgil supposes they’re feeling particularly stimmy and happy today as well.)

“I had a hunch, or a hope, that you might say that. I re-did mine last night,” He gestures to the vibrant color atop his head, “And I purchased some extra dye. Did you have a particular color in mind?” Virgil hums and flicks the spinner again.

“I was thinking purple?” They say and Logan nods.

“I have a bottle of it at home. Would you like me to do that before we leave for the parade?” Virgil hums again and nods before turning to look out the window. Logan reaches for the radio and the playlist that Virgil made him for their anniversary fills the car, which causes Virgil to glance over at Logan.

I need to know

That when I fail you'll still be here, mmm

'Cause if you stick around, I'll sing you pretty sounds

And we'll make money selling your hair

He’s smiling, and after a moment he starts to song along.

I don't care what's in your hair

I just wanna know what's on your mind

I used to say I wanna die before I'm old

But because of you, I might think twice

Yeah, yeah, yeah!

+++

The two of them are still singing along to the playlist when Logan pulls up to his house, and they wait in the driveway until the current song finishes for Logan to turn off the car. Virgil opens the car door and follows Logan into his house. They like Logan’s house, it smells like peppermint and cinnamon and Logan’s dad is always kind to Virgil. Logan leads him into the bathroom, where there’s bottles of hair dye on the counter. Virgil spots the purple and picks it up to look at the color more closely. Vibrant Violet, the label reads. They smile at Logan and hand him the bottle. “This is good, I hope.”

Logan reaches for the latex gloves on the counter and urges Virgil to sit up on the edge of the sink so he can start on their hair.

45 minutes later, Logan is blow drying Virgil’s hair as they discuss Doctor Who and Logan is making Virgil laugh with his Intense Focus face. (Your eyebrows scrunch together and you get this really serious look on your face; it’s adorable! Sometimes you even stick your tongue out a little-hey! I’m just telling the truth!)

“All done!” Logan announces, peeling off his gloves and dropping them in the trash can. Virgil hops off the counter and turns to look in the mirror, gasping at their reflection. Their hair is a vibrant shade of purple, the bangs fluffier than usual due to its recent blow drying. They run a hand through their hair and study their reflection for a moment longer before turning around and hugging Logan.

“I love it! Thank you, Logan,” They say into his chest, and they feel themself melt a little when Logan drops a kiss on their head.

“You’re welcome dearest. Now, are you ready to get dressed? I don't want to be late.’

Virgil nods and looks at themself in the mirror one last time before grabbing their bag and darting into Logan’s bedroom, pulling their outfit out of the backpack. They’re pulling their shirt over their head when Logan enters and they smile at his tank top, which has the words “Everything is gay and nothing is binary” printed on it in blocky letters.

(It also highlights Logan’s impressive biceps and shoulders, so in no way is Virgil complaining.)

He lifts up a pallet of face paint and shakes it. "Would you paint my face for me, dear?" Virgil nods and reaches for the pallet, swatting Logan's arm when he lifts it up out of their reach. Logan laughs and hands it to Virgil, who flips open the lid with a huff. "You're lucky I love you," they mutter as they swipe color across their boyfriend's face.

"Indeed I am," Logan murmurs, leaving forward and kissing Virgil gently, trapping their hand between their chests as they melt into the kiss.

"Fuck you, Logan. Now I'm soft," They object weakly, fighting back the blush that's painting their cheeks red. "You weren't supposed to make that romantic!"

Logan pulls them closer and kisses their cheeks. "Roman must be rubbing off on me," he says. Virgil pushes him away gently, certain that they'll explode if Logan keeps kissing them.

"He's a bad influence on you, that Prince."

Virgil finishes the last swipe of blue on Logan's face, having painted two identical bi flags on either side of Logan's face.

"You're all set!" They say, admiring their work. "I can't believe I painted straight lines during this Good Gay Month."

Logan's laughs as he pulls on his combat boots. "Now who sounds like Roman?"

Virgil doesn't respond, preoccupied with their task of painting yellow, white, purple, and black stripes on their own face. When they catch Logan's eyes in the mirror, he's smiling at them.

They smile back at him, and pull back from the mirror.

"Ok, I'm ready." They say, picking up their backpack and slinging it over their shoulder.

"Let's get our gay on, shall we?"

+++

The entire drive, Virgil is vibrating with excited energy. They spin their fidget spinner for the entire ride, trying to settle their emotions somewhat.

When Logan parks the car at their destination, Virgil reaches into their backpack and digs around for a moment before emerging with a small pin that they fix to their shirt.

My Pronouns Are they/them/theirs.

Logan reads the white text over the non-binary flag and gives Virgil a smile filled with pride. Virgil smiles back. They've come a long way in two years, two years ago they never would've imagined being comfortable enough with themself to wear a pin like this, to have the flag so visible on their body.

They step out of the car and grasp Logan's hand as the two of them walk towards the loud and joyful sounds of the crowds. There's glitter and color and sound everywhere, and Virgil feels the tight grip of anxiety for a terrifying moment, but then Logan squeezes their hand and the crowd parts and they can breathe again.

They hear a loud shout to their left, and when they look they see Roman and Patton hanging off of each other, each decked out in Pride regalia.

"Oh my stars, Virgil! Look at you, you look wonderful!" Patton says as they get closer. Virgil smiles shyly and squeezes Logan's hand again.

"Thanks Padre. You look pretty pan-tastic yourself."

Patton screeches with joy and slaps at Roman's arm, smiling huge.

"A pun! What a pun-derful pun, thank you Vee!" Virgil smiles at their friend as he flaps his hands a little and Roman looks at his boyfriend like he hung the sun. Roman is wearing his “No Romo” shirt that Virgil gifted him when he came out to the group. (Later that night, he also admitted his squishes for Patton and Dee, and the three of them have been together since. It’s a memorable day in their friendship history for a couple reasons.)

"We're looking for Dee, but we'll see you guys once the parade starts?" Roman asks, questioning gaze lingering on Virgil.

"You will, for sure." They say, happiness bubbling in their chest as they answer. Roman smiles at them before leading Patton off, presumably in search of their third QPP.

Logan and Virgil walk hand in hand through the crowd, and they find what they deem to be a good spot to wait in for the parade to begin. Virgil takes their backpack off and reaches into it again, pulling out the finishing touch to their outfit.

The demiromantic flag unfolds, and they tie it around their shoulders resolutely. They look at Logan, pride in their eyes, and Logan kisses them.

And as Logan's fingers sink into their hair, with the rumble of people around them and their flag fluttering at their back, Virgil feels at home.

And when they break apart to walk, Virgil says a silent thank you to all those who walked before, and gave them the opportunity to be here, walking hand in hand with the boy they love.

#pride prompts #analogical #royaliceit #love athena #athena rambles #nonbinary virgil #aromantic roman #demiromantic virgil

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princess-of-france · 4 years

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MARGOT What pair of reverend hypocrites were here! Didst ever hear such sacrilegious dross?

CATHERINE From the town highwayman I did, but not From fathers of our holy mother church. By my faith,—

MARGOT Which they have none.

CATHERINE Ay, faithlessly, These ministers besmirch the very weeds God graces them to wear, concealing up With rich brocade their base irreverence. Would I might shred that fabricated piety With mine own teeth! And do they thus presume Themselves baptizèd as their ancestors In holy wisdom? Is this England’s church? Is this how angels operate sur terre, Conniving means by which an anointed king Should plunge his helpless kingdom into war, His loyal countrymen up to the ears In bloodshed, on sly promises of wealth? O, scorpions of sanctity! To pay For vicious cruelty from unhallowed coffers! To purchase death, patron annihilation, And all to block the commonwealth a law Would faintly curb the gluttony of their lives! Bon dieu, c’était une hunte!

MARGOT Mayhap his Majesty favors their fraud.

CATHERINE May God forbid it! ‘Twould be worser still, If he should sway more to the part of knaves As here complotted so degenerately In crystal comprehension their vice. Nay, Margot, I’ll not think it, for to know The hubris pricking on such hungry schemes And still accede to their ignominy, Simply to break his fast upon a battle, Would prove this gross Plantagenet so great A tyrant, so devout a harbinger Of death, as he would stymie every language For words commensurate to his depravity. No proper king could be so without grace.

MARGOT Indeed he could, and likely is, for what’s A man if not a king of rage? And what’s a king, But yet a man who may rage anywhere? This sovereign’s late aggressions blistering Our coast, from Aquitaine to Brittany, Attest his appetite for cruel abuse, Since violence sans purpose is butchery— Unless thou thinkst he rightly weighs his own Just claim, through Edward’s bitter lineage, Unto the throne of France.

CATHERINE He has no claim And shall not war with France; it is insured.

(Henry V, Part 2; Act I, scene i)

CATHERINE Didst thou Not call me Catherine?

KING HENRY V Ay, perforce I did, But only once, and many names beside.

CATHERINE How did it taste, that name upon your tongue?

KING HENRY V Like velvet wine. A Burgundy, perhaps.

CATHERINE Wouldst thou drink it again?

KING HENRY V Until I’m drunk.

CATHERINE It may give thee great pounding in thy head.

KING HENRY V Good. ‘Tis the mark of purest alcohol.

CATHERINE Mayhap the wine shall not agree with that Stout soldier’s stomach thou didst lately boast.

KING HENRY V Then argue with it will my stomach straight, Yet purge it not, nor wish I’d not imbibed.

CATHERINE And if the wine grows bitter?

KING HENRY V Drink I still. For bitterness infects us all, at times, But loving patience runs it off its track.

CATHERINE What if the wine grows discontent with waiting For some infrequent jest to spark a fire In th’ barren ice castle of a woman’s duty?

KING HENRY V The duty of a queen is to her crown, So, must she rule by him that plays the king. It is her royal right and his great need, Or else two kingdoms fall to cold neglect.

CATHERINE Suppose the wine doth take a latent shine To some poor drinker whose lips be not thine.

KING HENRY V I do not know.

CATHERINE Nor I. I know nothing. This wine’s vintage hath not been tasted before. Then who can say what foul effect it may Engender in our blood? And what fair words Can reassure what must be kept in cruel Obscurity, until this virgin bottle Gurgles forth the unseen, satin prize? If thou shouldst cease to love me,—

KING HENRY V Never, Catherine.

CATHERINE Two words, too much; I prithee speak no more, Lest perjury becomes thy poltergeist And haunts thee past the brink of love forsworn. ‘Tis time, methinks, to put our vows to bed, For Time alone shall prove their verity Or our capriciousness. Come thou, sweet King, I shall believe thy rhetoric tonight; Perchance tomorrow too. Yet I do call On thy soul’s tenderness and beg thee, lord, Bestow what education thou hast gleaned With patience humbler than a shriven monk, For schoolgirls know, as scholars oft forget, That earthly wisdom hath a painful cost. Then learn me gently, learn me skillfully, Whilst I do strive to learn thy gentle skill. A herald’s work is never done, yet mine Concludes with this last, final embassy, Which thou must break thy pattern and accept Or lose to stubborn pride thy willing wife: Love me, Henry, with every breath thou hast. Leave fortunes to the future, wars to the past. Come crown thy unmade monarch; she is thine And I am yours and you forever mine.

[Enter ALICE, two years later. She rocks a whimpering baby in her arms.]

ALICE O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels, Leashed in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment.

[Enter the QUEEN, dressed all in black.]

ALICE Mais pardon. Est-ce le moment?

[The QUEEN nods. The Queen nods. Carefully, ALICE hands her the child. They exit. Enter a funeral procession. The court of England is dressed in mourning black. A blue-and-red silk sheet covers the marble casket of King Henry V. Enter the DANCER.]

DANCER But pardon, gentles all, The flat, unraisèd spirits that have dared On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So great an object. Can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at Agincourt? O, pardon! Since a crooked figure may Attest in little place a million, And let us, ciphers to this great account, On your imaginary forces work.

[Enter QUEEN CATHERINE, aloft, holding her infant son. ALICE, EXETER, BEDFORD, and GLOUCESTER look up her.]

DANCER, cont. Suppose within the girdle of these walls Are now confined two mighty monarchies, Whose high uprearèd and abutting fronts The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.

[The DUKE OF BEDFORD takes the king’s crown from off his brother’s casket. He sets the crown on a pillow, held by the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. Exit GLOUCESTER.]

DANCER, cont. Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts. Into a thousand parts divide on man, And make imaginary puissance.

[Enter, to one side, KING HENRY V. He looks up at his wife and child.]

DANCER, cont. Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth, For ‘tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings.

[Enter GLOUCESTER, with the crown. He approaches the QUEEN.]

DANCER, cont. Carry them here and there, jumping o’er times, Turning the accomplishment of many years Into an hourglass.

[Exit HENRY V for the last time. GLOUCESTER kneels before his monarch and holds up the crown, nestled in the blood-red velvet cushion.]

DANCER, cont. For the which supply, Admit me Chorus to this history, Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray Gently to hear, kindly to judge our play.

[Below, the English and French court sinks to its knees. All hail KING HENRY VI. CATHERINE holds her son and looks out into the darkness. Into the future. Lights out.]

(Henry V, Part 2; Act V, scene iv)

To my beautiful friends,

Started from the bottom and now we’re here. And I’m emotional.

It has been the greatest honor and a joy to share the Gentle Herald Project with you all over the past three months. Thank you so much for giving me the space and support to introduce 2H5 to Tumblr. This project means the world to me and so does our wonderful Shakespeare community. Till the next French campaign, mes amis!

Oh yes, and HAPPY 598th BIRTHDAY, KING HENRY VI! ♥

xx Claire

@harry-leroy @suits-of-woe @skeleton-richard @lizbennett2013 @henriadical @aquitainequeen @dedraconesilet @stripedroseandsketchpads @sleepinelysium @ardenrosegarden

#week 11 #gentle herald project #catherine of valois #<3

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arabellaflynn · 4 years

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A friend of mine was tolerating my drunken fangirling last weekend, patiently agreeing that yes, it is the cutest thing ever when Stephen Colbert turns around to hit on his off-camera wife every time he fucks up a line in his monologue. And yeah, I keep watching that because he's being comfortingly sane/angry right now, but also because it feels like representation, in a weird sort of way.

Colbert is, in many respects, what a lot of people would think of as the quintessential American: A straight, white, Christian man, married with kids, on a lifelong career path that has earned him substantial material wealth. Left to his own devices, he dresses like the dadliest dad who ever dadded. He's expressed some ambivalence about the knowledge that at least some of his media clout comes from this. On the one hand, he is perhaps not the best person to speak to the lived experience of institutional disadvantage; on the other, there are a lot of straight white Christian men in America who just don't feel the need to listen to anyone who isn't a straight white Christian man in America, and there's a lot he can do to redirect that.

But he's also just generally unconventional. Not just off-the-wall comedy. Like, personally not what you would expect from someone who teaches Sunday school, and looks more and more like Ward Cleaver's goofy little brother with every passing year.

About six months into his Late Show gig, the guests started getting it into their heads that the host could be kissed. I'm a little surprised it took them that long; I'm not at all surprised that it was started by Helen Mirren, always a lady with a fine sense of shenanigans. Sally Field went for it with more gusto the next day. Jeff Daniels managed to be more restrained.

Colbert generally ignores it when he accidentally touches off a tempest in a Twitter feed, but this time he opted to make a few remarks about what he termed "an eventful week for my face". In them, he makes it very clear that he did check in with his wife, and he is Definitely Allowed To Do That. He personally thought everything was fine, and in fact was going to take the opportunity to be smug, because holy shit you guys, Helen Mirren.

I will note that "she's cool with it" here does not appear to be a euphemism for "I fucked up and she forgave me". It means "she says it's fine if I make out with Spider-Man in front of a live studio audience". I expect he did actually double check, because that's what a reasonable adult would do, but I also expect that they hashed this out in the general case like thirty years ago. One, Colbert has been kissing his friends, on the lips or otherwise, for as long as I can find him on video. Sometimes for the sake of a joke, sometimes to make a point, and sometimes because they've just won an Emmy and he feels like it. And two, Mirren got a second kiss at the end of that interview, one that he started. Which seems like a thing he wouldn't have done if he were already afraid he'd be sleeping on the couch that night.

Colbert has not said a word about it since. And no one has asked him.

Another thing nobody ever mentions is how Colbert is one of the few straight male actors whom I've ever seen pull off a transparent closet joke without being derogatory. He's actually done it twice, as long-running gags on two separate series: The "secret gay affair" variant playing opposite Paul Dinello on Strangers With Candy, and the "strangely romantic-looking friendship" one with Jon Stewart on The Colbert Report (spilling over onto The Daily Show, The Late Show, and at this point probably his actual life). There's a lot about the specific writing and general sensibilities of both shows that contributes to that, but much of what sells it is that Colbert looks completely, genuinely comfortable with those performances. I imagine it helped that both times he was working with someone he was close to in real life, but also he just seems to be fine with sharing personal space in a way that straight men are typically not.

Colbert can get pretty grabby-hands with his favorite people off stage, too. He's shared various snapshots from Second City over the years. There's a bunch in some the "Stephen Has A Story" segments from LSSC. If there's another human being in the photo with him, he's probably trying to cuddle them. It's continued through the decades. I'm pretty sure when he does a bit with Jon Stewart the stage crew just puts down one spike for the both of them. They made it maybe a year, year and a half into doing The Daily Show together before they were poking at each other and stealing props right out of the other one's bin behind the desk. Colbert is so un-self-conscious about it that most people treat it as invisible.

I couldn't say for sure when he decided that he was free to loll all over people he liked, but my bet is probably at Second City, where he credits Dinello and Amy Sedaris with breaking him of an unfortunate tendency to take himself, and everything else, way too seriously. I don't know what he was like prior, because touring with Second City is essentially when his public career started. Nothing before that is really any of my business; hunting anything down would make me feel damned creepy.

And, again, nobody has ever asked him. He does seem to be aware that he is not always adhering to social expectation here, but also that if he acts casual, everyone else will just assume it's not really a thing. On the odd occasion when Colbert does feel like making a point about other men not having cooties, he has to bring it up himself.

None of the above is beyond-the-pale weird, but it's the kind of thing that you wouldn't normally guess of a devoutly-religious middle-aged straight dude. A lot of it is stuff that men are still under a lot of pressure not to do, like show feelings that aren't pride or rage, or be physically affectionate with people who aren't your partner/children. It's more suggestive of someone who believes that the relationships in your life -- with your friends, your family, your society, and even your God -- are very much what you say they are, and not what other people say they should be.

The greatest significance of this, I think, is not necessarily that he's been behaving this way for as long as he's been a public performer, or even that he's behaving this way at this particular point in human history. It's that he's behaving this way at this particular point in his life.

Colbert is in his mid~late 50s. From the point of view of someone in their late teens to early twenties, still trying to figure out how the fuck humans are supposed to work, he's the Old Guy. Stuff the Old Guy does isn't radical innovation. It's the boring standard. And the boring standard that Colbert is setting is that negotiating something that works and makes you happy is more important than being "normal" or "respectable". You communicate with your spouse like you're both functional adults. You tell the people you love that you love them and don't think twice about who can hear you.

These are things I've been ranting about for most of my life. People don't do them enough. Judging from the advice columns of the world, emotional negotiation is a skill very few people have bothered to develop. I do kind of wish someone would ask Colbert about it directly, because I'm curious, and talking about it is always beneficial, but that's secondary. I really just like seeing someone else demonstrate it in public.

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#IFTTT #Blogger #Unsolicited Advice

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goodbyecringe · 4 years

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(Un)Natural Selection Chapter 12

Éponine

I was sitting on my balcony reading over the letter that Justine had sent to me when I heard the knock on the door. After all of the stares I got during dining I just wanted to stay here, away from everyone else. But the knocking persisted and it took all of my willpower to wrap myself in my robe to answer the door. Enjolras was standing outside of my room still in his four piece suit.

“Well I feel terribly overdressed,” he greeted.

“I would have stayed in my dress if I would have known you were coming. Now you have to see me with my hair wrapped like a crazy person,” I laughed motioning at the rags Laila had arranged.

“If you don’t mind I don’t mind. May I come in?” He asked while we awkwardly stood in my doorway.

“Oh, sorry. Come right in,” I said, holding out my arm.

“I see you didn’t change any of the decor,” he noted looking around while I retrieved my letter from the balcony.

“I don’t mean to sound plain but this room is perfect just the way it is. This room is bigger than my family’s apartment so I’d be fine if there was just a bed in here.”

“So you’ve never had a room to yourself?” He asked, sitting on the couch at the foot of my bed.

I decided to swallow my pride for the next ten minutes in order to push some bonding.

“A bed. I’ve never had a bed to myself,” I said looking at him.

I could tell that this struck a nerve with Enjolras and could see the wheels turning in his brain.

“Serious note aside,” I said sitting on my bed, “why are you gracing me with your presence tonight?”

I could actually see his mind switch tracks.

“I came to apologize for throwing you under the bus during the Report. I should have asked you permission before telling the entire country about our secret encounter. I was just trying to keep the mood light so Kyran wouldn’t bring up that horrible fight,” he said, turning around to face me.

“Oh, don’t apologize. I was actually going to say the same thing for when I threw Kyran’s question back at you,” I laughed.

“No need to apologize. I also came to congratulate you on your first Report of many. I met with Combeferre after and he said that you were very composed and charismatic.”

My first Report of many? Did that mean he kept on keeping me around? Was he going to every girl’s room to congratulate her?

“It’s probably thanks to the meetings. Thanks to you I feel much more comfortable talking in a group setting.”

“The pleasure is mine. Have you ever considered furthering your education Éponine?” He asked, sitting up straight.

“Never seriously, since I technically don’t have an education to advance. I know I said I didn’t go to high school, but I’ve even never been inside a school. I mean the only reason I can read is because my mother wanted to prepare me for the Selection,” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“That sounds very considerate of her. What are your parents like? I’ve really only heard you talk about your sister.”

I felt my heart rate increase. My mouth became dry and I struggled to swallow. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t lie about my parents. Why couldn’t I tell Enjolras that his possible future in-laws were the perfect couple with no sort of criminal history? I had never had any trouble lying. It was a survival tactic engrained for personal protection.

“Éponine? Are you alright Éponine?” Enjolras asked, moving to sit next to me on the bed.

“Sorry. I just need some fresh air, it’s a bit hot in here,” I lied, moving towards the balcony.

It was a horrible lie. The room was the perfect temperature, just like the entire palace. Everything and everyone here was perfect.

“I’m terribly sorry for offending you, Éponine,” he apologized, approaching me.

“No I’m not offended. I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed,” I breathed, feeling the cool breeze on my skin.

“Yes of course. I shouldn’t have come to your room unannounced after your first interview on the Report. I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I could feel an excessive amount of heat on my shoulder. I turned my head to look at Enjolras and I was immediately disgusted at the amount of sympathy on his face. It was the face that my neighbors gave me after listening to my parents argue all night. It was the face my stylist gave to me when he first looked at me. It was the face that every Five and above gave to me when they saw me walk to work in the morning. That sympathetic face evoked a different kind of anger that coursed through my body. I stood in place to watch Enjolras walk towards the door.

“Should I send for one of your maids?” He asked as he opened the door.

“No thank you. They should be allowed to sleep at night,” I said.

“I’ll post a guard outside of your door tonight, just in case,” he persisted.

“Thank you, Enjolras.”

“It’s my pleasure, Éponine. I’ll see you for the meeting tomorrow,” he said, closing the door.

I stood outside until I felt calm enough to get into bed without crying. Everything part of me hated that Enjolras and I had yet to learn anything deeper about each other than our political opinions. I remembered how Cosette asked him about her life at home and how Enjolras said that her father sounded admirable. But she probably didn’t tell him about her father rescuing her from my family.

As I walked towards my bed, I picked up the picture of ‘Zelma that Justine sent me in her letter. My parents didn’t believe in spending money on pictures so I didn’t have any with me when I came to the palace. In this picture, Azelma was holding a cup of tea in the Brouder’s kitchen. Her curly blonde hair was pulled in a messy ponytail while she worked, and she was wearing one of my old T-shirts. I wondered if she regretted asking me not to write to her and if she was taking the blunt of my parent’s aggression again. I wondered if Enjolras could let me call her so I could make sure she was okay.

The next morning I took breakfast in my room while Mariam chastised me about needing to sleep more. Our relationship had greatly increased since Laila and Elise had told me about her daughter. When I decided to let her fuss over my appearance she became much more agreeable, and I became used to her presence. I was curious how the other girls interacted with their maids and remembered the constant commotion I could hear from Tereasa’s room, which was across from mine. Before her first date with Enjolras we could hear her throw a vase at one of her maids, who narrowly missed it, and flew at the wall.

“After you finish your breakfast you’ll need to go see the Doctor in the infirmary,” Miriam reminded me.

“If it makes you feel better, Miriam had to let out some of your dresses,” Elise chimed from my vanity.

It was my second time making a trip to the Palace’s Infirmary during my stay. During the last visit the Doctor said that I needed to gain at least two more pounds to stay on track, but I wasn’t feeling optimistic about my odds. As I walked towards the Infirmary I smiled at Grantaire, who guarded the Men’s Room. Grantaire and I had become acquainted since he walked me to the kitchen before every meeting. I learned that he had a real passion for painting and that he dreamed to one day save enough money to become a Five. At one point we spoke about our worst experiences as Sixes, which for Grantaire was only a few months ago. He said that he had lost his job and become a roaring alcoholic before he applied for a position at the palace. But the bright smile on his face as he waved back to me said that he was doing much better now than a few months ago.

When I entered the Infirmary I was surprised to be greeted by Joly and Combeferre instead of my usual Doctor.

“What brings you in today Éponine?” Combeferre asked, pulling out a chair for me to sit in.

“I had an appointment to have my weight recorded today. If this isn’t a good time I could come back later.”

“Dr. Tapp was called away for a few hours, but Joly and I would be happy to weigh you. Only if it’s okay with you, of course,” Combeferre said, pushing up his glasses.

“I don’t mind at all,” I said sitting down.

“Excellent, I’ll go look for your file,” he said leaving the room.

“Would you mind changing into this gown for me?” Joly asked, holding out the thin slip that I wore in my last appointment.

“Not at all,” I said, walking towards the divider in the corner of the room.

“How have you been Joly?” I asked, deciding to make small talk.

“I’ve been closely monitoring the pollen count for this week, which looks dreadful by the way. Needless to say I’ve been a bit agitated this week,” he said, the frustration in his voice evident.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I sympathized. “Have you been doing that breathing treatment you mentioned in the last meeting?”

“Twice a day and whenever Combeferre says I’m getting out of hand. I’ve found it to be quite effective, but lacks a long term effect.”

“Maybe you could try yoga, the woman I work for goes three times a week to help lower her stress,” I said, walking out from behind the divider.

“Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll be sure to add it to my ever growing list,” he said, sanitizing his hands for the second time since I walked in.

“Now, sit tall and take some deep breaths while I listen to you,” he said as I sat down.

Combeferre came back with my file while Joly was putting something around my pointer finger to measure my oxygen levels.

“How have you been sleeping Éponine?” Combeferre asked.

“Well, to be honest every day I feel like it’s time to wake up as soon as I fall asleep,” I laughed while Joly removed the sensor.

“So the sleeping pills you were prescribed a few weeks ago haven’t been working?”

“No they haven’t,” I said, looking at the ground.

I would dare to tell him that I’d never taken a sleeping pill before in my life, or that my mother probably sold them for booze money.

“I’ll talk to Doctor Tapp about getting you a stronger prescription. I also see that your blood pressure is a bit elevated, have you been feeling a bit stressed?”

“I mean, I’m only here competing against a bunch of girls for a guy that’s out of my league, so yes I would say I’m feeling a bit stressed,” I sighed, partially relieved to finally tell someone.

“Why do you think Julien is out of your league?” Joly asked in shock.

“Because he’s a Prince. A highly educated, well-versed, charismatic, and all too perfect Prince. And I’m a housekeeper,” I stumbled.

“Éponine, I’ve known Enjolras for sixteen years, and trust me when I say, he is the least perfect person in the entire palace,” Combeferre comforted.

“Yeah well the only flaw I’ve found is that he lacks self-preservation skills. God, I can’t even talk to him about anything personal. He came to my room last night to apologize for throwing me under the bus during the Report and I freaked out. He asked me about my parents and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so he left.”

I felt a tear hit my wrist. Was I actually crying over some guy? Joly and Combeferre exchanged a look.

“I know that this experience might be difficult for you, especially since you’re a Six,” Combeferre began.

My head snapped up when he said Six. The entire time I had been here no one had addressed my caste specifically to my face.

“When Énjolras says he doesn’t want to know your caste it’s because he’s trying to show Illeá that society can be so much more than a caste system. You’ve been to the meetings, you know how Enjy gets when he gives his speeches.”

“It’s like nothing else in the world matters,” I said aimlessly.

“Because to Enjolras, nothing except for Illeá matters. That’s why he skips meals, why he doesn’t go on a date every single day, why he insists on going by his surname. Nothing in the world trumps the future of Illeá,” Combeferre finished.

“Was that supposed to be a pep talk? Because if it was, it sucked,” I laughed as Joly handed me a tissue.

“It was meant to be informative. All of these girls here think that they’re competing to be first, but they’re really just competing for second place to the country.”

“What about me? Aren’t I one of these girls?”

“You might be. But it might help you to know that you’re the only Selected girl that Enjolras ever talks about,” Combeferre said, helping me over to the scale.

The stupid light that lit in my chest my bright enough to help me through the rest of my time in the infirmary. Even though I had actually lost two pounds instead of gaining them, I was still happy. I had a new found hope that was going to get me through the other girl’s stares and day spent practicing my high heel skills. I couldn’t help but smile like an idiot while I walked back to my room. Azelma would have a chance to go to school and we would be able to move out of Allens. Just as I was thinking about what to Justine in my next letter I smelt a nauseating amount of pine. It smelt like an expensive bottle of cologne that only one person that I knew would wear.

“Well if it ain’t the little Lady ‘Ponine,” a dark voice snarled from behind me.

#enjonine #eponine #enjolras #prince enjolras #cosette #the selection #les amis #les miserables #fanfiction #crossover #cross-posted #ao3 #Montparnasse #modern universe #combeferre #courfeyrac #joly

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alicezan-ncgred · 5 years

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Bleeding Red

Preface: I’ve been bitching around the bush of this long enough. So, I’ve been really silent on a bunch of stuff that’s been eating me alive which has made me both inactive and unproductive. I’m going to get straight to the point, starting off with the TL:DR from my post on my main blog. Context: An anon asked me if I was alright because I hadn’t updated in a while.

TL:DR You probably didn’t ask this to hear about all the bad shit of my life so here’s the short of it. No, I’m not doing fine. I will try get next weeks post out on time and I’ll work on making up on the lost posts. Updates will return regularly, ‘ite.

Time for the thick and thin of it.

Insecurity and being shafted: I’m stoic, even at my worst I won’t say anything. I’ll push through regardless of my current condition and since I’ve gone years like this, it’s not hard for me to do. In my real life situation, I’m currently in a place of social isolation. This has lead to a somewhat near reliance on Tumblr to be my social outlet. This present many issues.

The main one is that I’m quite the isolationist. This has only been reinforced by many interactions throughout the entirely of my life. Because of this, I can’t say I’ve ever had anything really more than two friends at a time. While in a way this has helped me express myself so well through writing, it’s come at the cost of social skill. I don’t talk to anyone.

With this kind of issue you could easily imagine that the THREE PEOPLE (four now, but very limited) to ever directly talk ended up in a way shafting me. The first blocked and disconnected with me without warning or reason. At this point we’ve been talking to each for about a month and we hit it off very well and then one day, silence. Never heard from them again. That fucked me up hard when I finally realized what happened.

The second person left during the Tumblr P**n Purge. We were talking about how to contact each other on other platforms and then they stopped responding. I had already given contact to other platforms of which they pinged me in any way. Another person that I trusted massively on here just abandoned me and I’m still hurting from that. Wasn’t fair at all.

Then the third person was someone that I been following for a while. This person is actually the reason that I’ve been putting this off for so long. I don’t want them to see this post but they will. I got an ask from them that ultimately turned out to be misinformation. I said I wasn’t mad but I was. I was so fucking angry about it and I’m still kinda mad, but I didn’t want problems. I still don’t. I just didn’t want them to worry about it. This will come back later.

I try my best to be as inoffensive as possible. The problem with that is that much of the things I believe or enjoy are highly divisive. Hell, even my own identity can be seen as offence. I’m bisexual, non-binary (I’m currently still questioning this. I might actually be gender fluid but in the overall scheme, that’s worse than being non-binary), and nonreligious. I’m in a very religious area so you I’m still “in the closet” about much of this IRL. I though it would better online but with how much people are saying bisexuality doesn’t exist, or that non-binary isn’t a valid gender (or that being gender fluid make you insane and you should be locked up) and all the hate people who say they are this are getting, the very community that’s supposed to accept me, HATES me. I had a bi pride flag icon last year during Pride Month. I never doing that ever again. It was terrible.

I’m trying my best to come out of my shell like I said I would when I made this blog but it seems I’m just crawling further into it. People I think I can trust keep setting me up to fall, people I know in real life won’t ever accept my existence if they knew who I really was, and my own mental health problem and self loathing are eating me alive. But that isn’t the total of it.

Crumbling Pillar: I’ve always ended up in the position where things were thrown onto me. In which no one wanted to do, I was stuck with. Because of this not only do I have a severe distaste being around my family (beyond everything mentioned before hand) but I grew to have a negative out look on everything. This effect is still quite obvious in my writings, especially my poems. Out of the 14 poems on my poem blog @washed-soul, only one has a happy meaning.

The one happy poem was called dreams. Under a metaphor it talks about how a demon kept me trapped in a dark space. I start to get better and nearly break free before I have a negative relapse back to my old ways. The poems ends with the demon putting a end to itself leaving the nightmare in which it was keeping me in to slowly fade away, letting one crack of light peeking through to become a window to a door until one day I walk free. When writing this poem, I never thought I would find myself rebuilding the nightmare but that’s where I am.

I’m done with holding things together that other people have placed onto me. Because of this, issues have began showing in my private life. Issues that should’ve been solved decades ago are only now being addressed. This change in the status quo of my life has caused many issues in my productive and mood. Between everything else I’m too tired to do anything.

Is that a reason, is that an excuse. No it isn’t but it’s the best thing I got as a reason. I’m doing my damnedest to do the best I can but of course, when it comes to the thing that matter I just fall short. Big fucking whopha my intelligence and capability does me if I can’t use it for anything that means a damn.

Meaningless Triviality: I’m a very emotional person. I’m very strongly bound to my emotions and if everything above hasn’t given it away, my emotions are very negative prone. But it just doesn’t stop there, it goes back into my memories. I can only honestly place 3 happy memories for certain that aren’t either A) a dream or B) me escaping reality through my mind. Besides that, almost all my memories are negative.

People like to throw around the word Nihilist to describe themselves because today's culture is very, god while I hate to use this word, edgy. For those who don’t know a Nihilist is someone who views the world as being completely meaningless and reject all religious and moral principles. I very truly struggle with this outlook of life. It’s a daily for me to berate myself saying “just kill yourself” or “I want to die” or just shutting down and crumpling up while say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. Hell, I did that while writing this.

I take things very hard, even the slightest transgression. I’m so used to trying to make things perfect and because people have the image that I’m the smart one, the mature one, the capable one, I’m left with the over hanging expectation of excellence. Almost no room for margin of error or being human. Since I’m the silent type, I put up no challenge and work to meet it. Only time I get any praise for anything too.

I guess as a little self promotion to my main blog, for those that have read the very first few updates of my main blog @the-truth-behind-redacted, or read Defiance’s character sheet, while The Machine and Defiance are separate character, they both share the name Machine. That in part is a reflect of said above expectation. How ravenous and inhuman it can be all under the guise of something human. Those characters are the two sides to the same coin.

Remember how I said I try to be un-problematical and how I try to avoid any potential conflict. In the first segment I told on how I lied about my feelings just so another person didn’t have to worry over something that honestly, in hindsight, wasn’t even really a big deal. But I also said how it consumed me in anger. I just don’t want to bother anyone over anything. It’s part of the reason why I am writing this post, as some way of a self enforced rehab program to get better.

This absolute consumption of negative emotion has pushed me into a non human state before. I hit a point of absolute mental exhaustion and in such a self enforced bubble of actual hatred I became completely apathetic. I felt numb to everything. I watched and heard of terrible things happening to people, and felt nothing. I watched people lives crumble before them leaving them nowhere to go and LAUGHED. “Just another worthless pathetic worm on this rotting carcass of a planet being hit with the hard reality that life doesn’t care for them. What whimsical pathetic bullshit they deluded themselves with to think otherwise.” This isn’t an exaggeration on how I thought, this is what I actually thought. Which brings me too.

The Mandatory Sob Story: Roll your eyes everyone and get the tiny violin. I guess in order for everyone to exactly understand the place I’m coming from when it comes to mental health I’ll have to detail my experiences. I have a long standing history with mental illness. I have professionally diagnosed OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, and visual and auditory hallucinations. I take 600 mg of Seroquel a day as well as Amitriptyline when needed. I’m also still currently in therapy to deal with said OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, the visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as Suicidal thoughts, and my Nihilism. There’s a reason to why I’m so god damn familiar with mental illness and treatment plans.

OCD and Bipolarism run in my family on my fathers side. My Father’s Father had them, my Sister has them, my brother most likely has them (however he refuses to see a doctor because he uses said possible mental illnesses as a get out of jail free card. He doesn’t want to be treated and he has FUCKING ADMITTED IT), my father has them, and I have them. I, however, have the misfortune of having it real bad. I said yes to well over half of all the total symptoms when I was being tested (I don’t remember exact numbers but I remember there being three pages worth of common symptoms) which was very worrying to the doctor. I was currently in an inpatient hospitalization program at the time for both suicidal thoughts and actions, and severe depression.

On that, my graze in with suicide. Before I went into my first inpatient program I was contemplating suicide. I was sat in front of a mirror with a bottle of over the counter medication. It was an unopened bottle of ibuprofen, 1000 200mg tables. What I planed to do was down the whole bottle with benadryl and die in my sleep. I had the small box of benadryl got from the Kroger pharmacy and a hand full of ibuprofen poured out looking directly into the mirror. My suicide note was sitting on the desk on my room with an online copy on my laptop open.

I sat there for an hour in the dead of midnight complicating my life. I had lost all hope in the world, filled with hatred, anger, pain, and despair. I had no god or after life to look forward too, part way hoping that a Hell existed for me to burn in. I hated myself that much. I was close to taking the first handful before before I caught a glimpse of my own eyes in the mirror. In what was in a weird sudden epiphany I realized that I truly did become what I hated but not for any reason I told myself. I became the very bastion of negativity I sought to fight and rid of in what little friends I did have. That was what set off my path to recovery in spite of the medical system. I guess if people care I’ll make a separate post on that.

Before I move on, I feel I should explain my history with the visual and auditory hallucinations. It should be no surprise that with everything else above, I also had extreme paranoia that led to me having very bad insomnia. Insomnia is, just like most other medical disorders like Depression, Self-harm, Anxiety, OCD, Bipolarism, is romanticized to hell. Insomnia isn’t having one nights bad sleep where you got 5 hours of sleep instead of 8.

You know what Insomnia is? insomnia is being physical incapable of sleeping despite not sleeping in 2 to 3 day while your body suffers massive agony brought on by this. Muscle spasms and seizing, difficulty breathing, your eyes feeling like fire ants are eating them, and of course visual and auditory hallucinations. Now I already had issues with visual and auditory hallucinations even when I could get sleep regularly but the combined effects of my OCD and Bipolarism made this perfect condition of Insomnia, Anxiety, Paranoia, with the already added in disposition to hallucinations and I felt like I was actually losing my mind.

My hallucinations presented themselves in three forms. Disassociation of reality, night terrors, or alterations of reality. Disassociation of reality often were complete black out moments. I would lose any perceived connect to reality and enter an episode of my mind. I can’t remember what they actually were but I do remember what it felt like. Cold sweats, anxiety to point where if I didn’t lock up I would vomit, actual physical pain, mind numbing fear, and intense fatigue.

The second were night terrors often in the form of horrific “things.” I do remember these and most of them were as best as I could describe, forms of things that were vaguely human and formations of industrial machinery. The most vivid one I remember was of a long lengthy apparition that was for the most part human but many locations of it’s impossible physiology were rebar beams and mechanical sockets. It began when I was about to fall asleep and it was next to my window. The thing was making week groaning and gasping sounds before it violently slammed against my window breaking it then letting out a horrific howl that I can’t describe as it tossed itself out followed shorty after with the sound of bones breaking against the dirt.

Now that might not seem so bad, exspecally with everything that is in horror movies or games now, but keep in mind that was fucking real to me. It was as real as the clicking of the keys of my keyboard as I’m writing this. As real as the chair I’m sitting in and as real as the wall in front of me. As far as my mind was concerned that thing, what ever it was, actually existed. It took me physical touching my window to make sure it wasn’t actually broken and checking outside to see if there wasn’t a body there. This isn’t the type of thing I talk about lightly.

Finally there is the alteration of reality. This is very simply but it’s something that fucked with me hard. For very little meaning or warning, I would have trouble interpreting the world around me. My hearing and sight would be warped and there wasn’t any real way to tell what I was hearing or seeing was real or not until the episode was over. The way I got through these was the ultimate fake it till you make it. Obviously, very often I failed and this created issue in my schooling.

Ending Message: I’ve been in a very bad state for a while now and as it is now, no signs of getting better. I also strongly believe my medications are being to fail me which I’ve been telling my doctor and therapist for over a year now but nothing’s been done. Mainly it’s my Depression but insomnia episodes are beginning and my own paranoia been on the rise. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even look at a creepy image or thumbnail without having a very bad episode.

I’ve managed to eat something today which was nice but my body is cramping hard. And to possible stave of a possible comment, I’m biologically male. Like I said I’m not in the best head space, or living for that matter. If this gets better, only time will tell.

#Long post #tw: suicide #TW: Depression #Trigger Warning #TW #OCD #Anxiety #Chronic Depression #Bipolar Disorder #Bipolar #Mental Health #My mental health

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itsoliviafinch · 5 years

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you don’t own me || self para

who: olivia finch, robert finch, (mentions of penn state lions and zia.)

where: outside the eagle’s court, near the buses.

when: after the game on friday, nov. 16th

warnings: abuse, abuse mentions, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, emotional abuse, depression mention.

The buzzer sounds and she feels on top of the world.

There’s a comforting feel in three wins in a row, another I Told You So in the face of everyone who doubted and gossiped about her transfer to the Foxes and Palmetto. Sure, she didn’t exactly score any goals, but that wasn’t the point. The point here was to win and that’s what they did, they won. There was a lot of tension on the court, but even with that tension, they still pulled it off. And not even by a hair, it was a landslide victory, things felt like they were looking up. Hell, even Olivia found herself smiling a bit more from the last couple of weeks, breaking a little out of her shell. Everything was going to be alright, and she was slowly starting to see the sun peak through the clouds in her mind.

It was like when she first started with Penn State, before everything crumbled, she was on a team that was so high ranked and winning in their sleep, she felt pride. But pride with the Foxes was volumes above with the Lions, because it showed growth. And the growth was enough to wear a smile about as she pushed out of the locker room, one ear bud in her left ear as she hummed under her breath to the music pumping out from her phone. Since when did she hum? It didn’t matter, she just felt so good as she headed to the buses, ready to take a seat in the back and nap after a good night.

Well, that was the plan at least.

“Olivia Lee!”

Her heart froze for a moment before dropping down into her stomach, a rush of nausea overcoming her as she heard that voice. Words slurring a bit together, and she glanced at the source of it, praying that it was maybe a trick in her mind like the nightmares that tended to visit her in the little amounts of sleep she logged. But sadly, that proved to be false as her gaze landed on none other than a monster that had her always on edge.

“Dad?”

Her voice was breathless, the older male walking over to her like he was suddenly proud of her, like now it was okay to be considered her father again even though months ago she was receiving messages calling her things like; an embarrassment, a disappointment, a joke. But now, here he was, right in front of her smelling faintly like Jack Daniels as he had this glazed over expression in his eyes. It was a familiar sight, he was obviously getting back into the same habits he always did, and without her around to try and hide things or monitor to see if he was even still breathing on the couch when he wasn’t yelling at her to practice harder, it was only a guess at how much he had running through his system. “Uh....what are you doing here??”

His face twisted as if she asked him some odd question, almost like he was flabbergasted she even asked him it in the first place. “What do you mean, what am I doing here?” Robert questioned her back, chuckling as he motioned around, “I came to see my baby girl play!” His voice was loud, obnoxiously so as she felt the red creep up the back of her neck as she looked at him. He looked like shit, a dirty white t-shirt, old ratted jeans, hair way over grown at his point and not groomed in the slightest with the most un-kept beard she’d seen on him in a while. Jesus, he was a wreck.

This wasn’t good.

“You....came to see me play?” Olivia asked, hesitantly, brows furrowing together in confusion. “Last time I heard from you...you said that you’d rather, uh, kill yourself than watch the Foxes?” It was the truth, and she remembered the text very well, because she thanked her lucky stars that she wouldn’t have to deal with the situation happening right now in front of her. Him, an obvious intoxicated mess, and he had a hair trigger of a temper.

It was clear she had hit it, even with the soft tone in her voice, because now he was clenching his jaw as he ran his hand over his beard, “So what? You guys have been playing well, surprisingly....for a shit team, you aren’t doing too bad. Who knows, maybe you’re helping these losers shape up?” His voice was still loud, sharper now as he glanced around the team, distaste obvious in his face. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest as his glare moved back to Olivia now, looking down at her with that same expression that always made her freeze in her place. She was afraid that if she moved too fast, he’d break her in two, and she pursed her lips together as she glance down at her feet. “Anyways, I also came to get you for Thanksgiving break. I need some help around the house, I can run some drills with you, up your game so next year you can get out of this dump of a team and back onto a better team. Maybe the Lions will take you back when they see how well you’ve turned this team around.”

That was enough to make her gaze shoot back up to him, brows raising as she shook her head in disbelief, “I am not going back to Penn State. And....I think I’m just going to stay at Palmetto for Thanksgiving....” The last part was a murmur as she pursed her lips together again in a straight line, avoiding his gaze as she stared at her hands.

“You’re going to what?” His voice was angry, obviously so, and she opened her mouth to speak again as he let out a laugh that was far from happy, “You’ve got to be FUCKING kidding me, right? You had a shot at one of the best teams in the district and you FUCKING blew it! Those little stories were a real cry for help but you got their attention, so get the fuck over it and realize that this team will never be good enough for you, Olivia!” He was yelling now, getting her in face, and she closed her eyes as she felt the embarrassment sting her body like a thousand needles. She knew people were staring at her and she let out a shaky breath, smelling the alcohol that was clear on his as she kept her gaze on her hands still.

“Dad, please....people are staring.”

“I don’t GIVE A FUCK!” Robert yelling, looking around at everyone as he laughed, “You think I care what these losers think of me?! I don’t give two shits because they are nothing, they will never amount to shit. You deserve better than this underdog team, they are just some sob story that the media pities.” Scoffing, he paused before laughing under his breath, finger coming to poke at his daughter’s shoulder, “But hey, you know all about little sob stories for attention. What, I didn’t give you enough attention as a kid? I raised you to be the great player you are, I ran those drills with you, I made you into this.” Another harsh poke, and she clenched her jaw as he grabbed her arm, “Now c’mon, you aren’t spending Thanksgiving with them. You’re spending it with me, your father...your family.”

“No.....” She whispered before his grip got tighter, and that was when she yanked her arm away, “DON’T, touch me.” Olivia snapped before rolling her shoulders back, it was the first time she ever raised her voice at her father. And she could see it caught him off guard, so she took the chance to speak up for herself while she still had the floor, “They are more of a family to me than you’ve ever been. They care about me. So, I’m spending my Thanksgiving with them. After all, I’m a big ass disappointment, right dad?!” Yanking her phone out, she pulling up all the unanswered texts he sent her, all the insults and harsh words that came in one after one the first time they lost.

“You ARE a disappointment, you threw away your ONE big chance at the big leagues!” He spat back, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her, “You threw away a legacy!”

“Boo-fucking-hoo!” She yelled back, pushing him back by the chest as she felt her face wash over with anger, tears flooding her eyes as she looked around. Yeah, people saw that, and she pursed her lips together as she ran her fingers through her hair, “Please just....go away. Don’t talk to me, don’t contact me, and if you ever fucking touch me like that again....” Olivia murmured, looking at her dad as she breathed out, “I’ll make sure that you won’t have the ability to ever again.”

He was in shock, the look on his face almost like he had sobered up for a moment, like he regretted making a scene as he breathed out, “Olivia, I-I’m sorry just....please, come spend the holiday with me.” Robert said, softer now as he stepped towards her, “Y-You’re all I have, Olive....”

The nickname broke her heart, reminding her of the times he wasn’t so awful, when he was a caring father, when she fell off her bike and he actually was sober enough to take the time to mend to her wounds. But the wounds he left on her heart and her emotions would never be mended, and that much was obvious by the way her skin burned where he grabbed her. So she let out a shaky breath, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stepped back from him, “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t do this dad. I....I can’t.” Her voice broke as she glanced at him before heading to the bus, thankful he didn’t follow her.

Stuffing the earbuds in both ears, she kept her head down, yanking her hood up and over her head as her hands shook while she pushed her way to the back of the bus with music blasting in her ears.

Now she was really alone, all traces of her family abandoned, and she felt numb as her knees tucked to her chest and she buried her face in her arms, praying people would just leave her alone and think she was sleeping.

Though now, her nightmares would be haunting her ten fold, so she stared into the darkness. Hoping to get lost in it, that it would consume her and swallow her hole.

She hoped she would just disappear.

#self para.#abuse tw #tw: alcohol mention #tw: drug mention #tw: violence #//OOOOOF

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themarchblessing · 6 years

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HELLO VIKING

SABRINA

Zipping myself into my heels I stood up straight, walking over to my full length mirror. I checked myself out head to toe looking for anything that needs to be fixed. Today is my birthday and my mejor amiga threw me a party and I’m very anxious to see what the hell she planned for me. She told to me to show up at ten o’clock exactly because she had some last minute touches to put on the party. I didn’t even understand why she said that but I just agreed to arriving at the specified time.

I’m on a new quest to have my first child. I’ve been in and out of relationships since my college days but I’m ready for a change. Finding a guy that is ideal for myself is not easy whatsoever. But recently I’ve gotten to know somebody who seems very promising to be my donor recipient. Since we’ve been getting along so well I invited him to the party tonight as my date. We’ve been hanging out over the past couple of months to really get to know one another. Corey, my dear friend, is supposed to be in attendance at my party tonight being that I asked him if he would meet Julian. Corey was against it at first but after begging and pleading, he agreed to the meeting.

The alarm on my phone went off telling me it’s time to get going. With one last glance at myself I walked over to my dresser to spritz on a little more perfume. I touched bases with my chest, wrists and the back of my neck. Cutting the lights in the bedroom I headed out the door. Time for a fun night out!

“So where is this guy?” Corey asked, throwing back a shot with me. I searched the room looking for Julian not seeing him anywhere.

“He’s here somewhere. Estás pasando un buen rato? You look like you want to say something but you’re holding back because I asked you to meet this guy.” I said, pouring myself another shot.

“I’m good. I just want to meet your new man that’s all. So what’s he like?” Corey asked, pouring himself two more shots. He threw back both drinks and gripped both in his hands giving me a stern look.

“What?” I dropped my shoulders and fluffed up my hair a little. This liquor, whatever it is, is making me burn the fuck up! The dress is tight as hell and my thick ass hair is giving me even more trouble than my outfit. Corey shook his head and pointed to the other side of the room. I followed his hand spotting Julian emerging from another room. I laughed to myself seeing him trying to fight off Kelly who is clearly drunk beyond repair. He managed to sneak away while she had her back turned and make it over to where Corey and I stood.

“I was kidnapped I swear. I stepped away for two minutes to look for the bathroom and next thing I know I’m fighting off an adult size piranha. Is she always like that?” Julian chuckled, looking back to see if Kelly was anywhere nearby.

“Who Kelly? Hell yeah. It’s worse when she’s drunk. Julian, I want to introduce you to someone. This is Corey...Corey this is Julian.” I opened the floor up to them both waiting to see what will happen.

Coughing lowly I nudged Corey to at least give him a head nod as a sign of respect. Corey set the glasses on the counter and reached forward shaking Julian’s extended hand. “Nice to meet you bruh..” he said with a slur.

“Good to meet you too man. Sabrina tells me you two are real close.” Julian cleared his throat not taking his eyes off of Corey. The amount of dominance and pride I’m sensing right now is insane. I’m not sure if this was a good idea or not.

“Oh yeah, extremely..isn’t that right Bri?” Corey roped me in for a strong side hug. I threw one arm behind his back, stabbing him with my nails. He ignored what I did and kissed my forehead with no shame at all. “Nah but really we are close. We’ve been friends since we were kids so she’s like family to me a little bit.” Corey squeezed my shoulders and arms a bit, staring Julian down like he’s the black sheep of the party. He stuck around for maybe ten minutes and took off somewhere else.

When it was just the two of us I felt like I needed to apologize on Corey’s behalf. “He’s…” I can't even describe Corey in a short amount of words like I really want to.

“Protective? You sure he’s not secretly feeling you and just not saying anything?” Julian assumed, now standing beside me.

“What? No. No, Corey and I are friends that’s it. We look out for each other but I promise you have nothing to worry about.” I assured. “Let me introduce you to some of my other friends.” Grabbing his hand I walked him over to Ravyn and my other girls.

I know Corey wouldn’t purposely sabotage what I have going with Julian no matter what he’s feeling. I can only hope for the best.

COREY

“Come on handsome it’s time..” Ravyn pushed me from behind over to where everyone was heading. I stumbled behind everybody going out back. I saw Lori and her new man standing all close in front of her cake. He was all in her ear making her laugh and holding her close. Everyone gathered around singing Bri happy birthday with drunken smiles on their faces.

I stayed somewhat in the shadows, swaying along to the sound of their voices with a bottle in my hand. Once the main event of the night was over I went back inside. I’m drunk off my ass and once I spotted the perfect place to chill until I’m sober enough to drive, I was set. These last couple of months have been kind of hectic. I’ve been traveling a lot more for work but the gigs have been A1. Over the last three weeks or so I’ve had four design companies, two modeling agencies, and Tesla contact me to work for them. I accepted every job knowing damn well those kind of opportunities don’t happen to me everyday.

I haven’t talked much to Bri about her new venture and quite frankly it’s hard for me to even address the topic. The only way we talk about this baby thing is if she brings up the subject first. Of course I wonder how it’s going and what’s been going on but I just can’t fathom asking her about the shit myself. Bri turns thirty as of tomorrow afternoon at 2pm, officially. My guess would be that she’s feeling the pressure of that whole biological clock bullshit. I’ve been telling that girl to just take it slow and wait for her time to come but she’s so hardheaded!

I worry for Sabrina every day. She’s street smart and book smart, she’s got a ton of life experience and she’s about her shit. She’s a great girl but she’s too into the hype of settling down. I don’t doubt for a second that she won’t make a good mother because I know she will. I just don’t like when she’s in a rush to accomplish certain goals. All I’ve ever told her is to have patience and trust the path life has for her. But Sabrina is stubborn so there’s only so much advice she will actually listen to.

Getting up from the chair I did a little stretch and took my ass to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and glanced around the room carefully. “Bri..you’ve got some weird ass friends.” Shaking my head at the volume of crystals, buddha references, and chakra decor I walked over to the sink to wash my hands first. After I took a quick piss and washed my hands again I spotted a cup on the counter.

“What the fuck..” I slurred. Moving closer I picked the cup realizing it was a specimen cup. “Ohh, it’s little Julian Jr in here..” Chuckling to myself at what I was holding I sat down on the toilet seat lid and examined the label. “Congrats Julian..you’re gonna be a daddy..well sort of..” Shaking my head quickly I twisted my hat around to face the back.

I grabbed one of the buddha statues and set it on my right knee leaving space for the cup. “Little Julian..I wish upon you great success in life. May you look just like Bri and look nothing like yo ugly ass father..” I joked. Stupidly I dropped the cup on the floor watching the contents spill out on the purple rug. I thanked the man above for letting this nasty shit spill away from my sneakers.

“Oh shit!” I panicked, wondering how the hell I’m gonna explain this. A knock on the door scared me so I had to think of something quick to get whoever it is away from this room. “Go away! I’m gonna be a while!” I shouted waiting to see if they would stay or leave. Pacing the bathroom floor with my hands on my head I stared at the floor seeing Julian’s little swimmers just sit there. “Bri is gonna kill me..aw fuck Bri is gonna kill me..” Exhaling sharply I thought of a plan to fix this mess.

Suddenly I came up with the only logical explanation that will solve my problems tonight. Taking a seat again I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. Stopping at a random name I called up one of my home girls knowing she would answer.

“It’s been a minute. How are you handsome?” Eva spoke off bat.

“Wassup mama, I’m good. Yo I need a favor and please don’t ask me any questions.” I said in a rush. Glancing at the time I slapped myself in the head at how late it’s getting.

“Whatever you need I’m your girl. What’s going on?” Eva questioned softly.

“Facetime me and I’ll tell you the rest.” I unbuckled my belt waiting for this girl to just do what I asked of her.

“I take it you’re in a sticky situation?” She continued to press.

“Come on Eva, I said no questions. Just facetime me baby c’mon..” I plead. Eva complied and the second she saw my face I let her know what the deal is. Hopefully this goes over well because I’ll be damned if I ruin Bri’s plans to have this baby. Regardless of my opinions on her choice I’d never stand in the way of her happiness.

#the march blessing #short story

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sadisticsmiles · 6 years

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Beyond a Thief’s Power Episode 23

Final Concert

Kenshi gaped, but his stunned look when he and the others saw the massive gap inside of Le Renard Noir where the basement and parts of the interior were, soon became an excited glee about it. “Whoa, this is just like being in a real horror game!”

Atsumu quickly turned from his shock at the cedar-haired man with fury showing on his own face. “A horror game?! This is no time to be thinking about what you like playing, Kenshi! My pride and joy of a basement is gone!”

“Calm down,” Takuto interjected with indifference. “It’s not the end of the Human World. At least we’re back home safe and sound.”

Riki added while looking staid as ever, “Yeah.” His shoulders slumped. “Ibuki blew it up and sent us to the dimension when she was possessed. Kikuno had ‘awakened’ her to do so while we were waiting around.”

Hiro looked down sorrowfully. “I wish… we could’ve had more power to save her from all of this.” His waterworks arrived and he sobbed. “She was with us for the last four months… and we failed as a band of noble thieves to steal her away from the dangerous things we didn’t want to involve her in!” He declined his head and shut his eyes.

Sayuri stared at Hiro’s back and placed her left hand on the left side of it, near the top. “Hiro.”

Riki looked at the two of them and slowly, yet gently, petted Hiro’s head with his right hand.

Seeing his fellow members of the Black Foxes put Atsumu at ease and he softly smiled.

Rina looked across from her left; she was standing next to Takuto who was on her right side and behind Kenshi, who was in front of them. In fact, she was gazing at Mitsuki, who was all the way on the other side on Riki’s left. “What about Mitsuki-san, Manjuki-san, and anyone else who’s wounded or injured? They need the most care right now.”

Taiga agreed, “Rina’s right. We shouldn’t neglect anyone who’s hurt. Although, a magician’s body is tougher than a human’s, I’m not able to do much.”

Kuruha exhaled. “Let’s have everyone who’s gotten the brunt of the fights to change out of their clothes and wash the blood off. Then, we can help out with the treatment.”

“Yeah,” Kokoro said. “Someone should look at Aaron. He must’ve broken parts of his body while beating up Circ with all he had in him. I bet he’s got some open dents protruding outward on his arms, and stomach.”

“’Scuse me?” Aaron raised his voice mildly with a sardonic tone to it, while looking calm. “A magician’s body is better than a tin heap of cans. I didn’t get any of my blood spilt from using whatever I could muster up to attack while his guard was down. You’re an ingrate even though Futaba and I risked ourselves to save your puny ass.”

Kuruha looked at her younger sister. “Kokoro, knock it off. Can’t you be more appreciative to Aaron?”

Kokoro frowned. “…Hmph. Whatever.”

“An ill-mannered pipsqueak who can’t find an inkling within her to thank me,” Aaron commented. “A lot of people in this world would find it hard to believe she’s older than she looks, as well as her having a boyfriend who’s nine years her senior.”

Hyosuke put on an eye smile. “It might not make you feel better, but Miyuki and I have an age difference of nearly six years.”

Aaron closed his eyes. “It’s different than what I’m talking about.”

Hyosuke opened his eyes. “What?”

Futaba smiled faintly. “Aaron’s talking about Kokoro’s relationship between two humans, but you’re a human male paired with a female magician. You don’t mind it, however, it does have a different connotation and gap from how the auras are given off with us than with humans.”

“Precisely the point,” Manjuki flatly agreed. Then, she mumbled under her breath so her voice was not heard by most of the humans. Riki heard her, on the other hand. “You don’t know what it feels to us. It’s never been a light matter.”

Manjuki and the other magicians who weren’t with the main group and the Mamiya sisters turned around to leave.

“Hurry up, folks!” Takuji hollered with his back turned.

Rina smiled wryly. “Really. They all have a vibe unlike ours.”

Sayuri stared and gave a brief laugh. “Aha! That’s what it means to be deep-rooted, but true to yourself in a way.” She looked genuinely happy and was beginning to revert back to her old self, just a small bit.

“I guess so,” Hiro slowly brought himself to smile. His tears were flowing less and he regained his posture.

Kokoro sighed. “How they can be so straight-laced beats me.”

Kenshi nodded with a peaceful awe to him. “Yet, they all carry a large part of Neon with them.” He closed his eyes. “Manjuki’s my definite favorite out of them. Maybe I love her too much to dispute with her values.”

Riki’s eyes popped with a mad expression on his whole visage. “What?!”

Kenshi opened his eyes with a mischievous glance to his leader. “I didn’t mean it that way. You know she’s an older sister figure to me no matter how much she looks on the outside.”

In a hasty sprint, Kenshi was out in within a few seconds with Riki chasing after him.

Hiro had a blank look with wide eyes on his face. “Uh-oh, Riki the Siscon is back.”

Takuto stared down the hall with a short sigh exiting his mouth. “Honestly, this is getting past the Ibuki meter. No offense, but he suddenly moved away from her. What’s gotten into him? He didn’t care much for Manjuki.”

Hiro titled his head to his left. “Yeah. He’s acting pretty strange.”

Mitsuki looked down with a sad smile. “…Riki feels responsible for hurting her. Of course, I do too, because we’ve ignored her for so long when we’re supposed to be a family.”

Nao reassured the dark purple-haired magician with a kind smile. “Mitsuki-san, don’t take things too hard. Manjuki understands how difficult it is to endure everything on your own. She chose to go to you and Riki-san.” There was a light of envy in her eyes. “She chose you over me. I could’ve easily been the one she rushed to without a moment’s hesitation, but her heart never wavered for you. I’m a bit pained, but I know family will always be placed above one’s best friend and many others.”

Mitsuki lifted her head up. “Nao…”

“That said,” Nao continued, “shouldn’t you wash your right hand? You’re still covered in blood.”

Mitsuki nodded. “Un. I’ll catch up with you all.” She vanished immediately.

“Let’s go check on everyone else,” Atsumu exhaled.

They soon returned to see what went on in the dining area.

“You’re late,” Takuji informed the group as they came in. He was sitting down on a chair at one of the tables with his right thigh over his left one. His arms were relaxed at his sides, though.

“You sure took your time,” Rumi mentioned with a warm smile on his visage.

Nao gazed at her cousin. “Some things came up.” She glanced at Manjuki next and blinked. “I see your blood’s gone from your shirt, Manjuki. You must be feeling better.”

“It’s thanks to Asuka,” Manjuki told her best friend. “My wound wasn’t healing fast enough since the Human World is still putting strict limits on our powers.”

An eye smile appeared on Asuka’s face. “Staying in Neon has been helpful to my recovery. I had a large boost of power at home. Ehehe.”

There was something about Asuka’s smile that piqued curiosity in the area from the human males, but it was a secret.

“By the way,” Takuto said to Asuka, “is everything going well with your brother? He’s been sick for a longer time than you have, so how was he able to come to save us from the dimension?”

Asuka opened her eyes, not once did her smile budge. “Yes. Onii-sama is doing better now. He recovered just in time so that we could finish Roxanne off and bring Swillving with us.”

Just then, Mitsuki teleported into the dining area. “About Swillving’s blades… were the new ones from Karen and Walter?”

Asuka nodded. “Onii-sama had their blades infused with hers, so they had to break in order for him to use his powers as well as my own. Because we went outside of Neon, our powers were limited, which Swillving’s new form was our last resort in killing the last of those beings.”

“I see,” Mitsuki replied. “Swillving wasn’t waiting for me, but she was needed to kill Roxanne.”

“We’re sorry,” Asuka apologized. “Onii-sama called her to Neon after your father-in-law’s assault on you took place, to make the final preparations for our entrance. To have stolen her from you was wrong. We didn’t give you the chance to see her as she was before the last battle.”

Mitsuki smiled assuring her world’s princess. “It’s fine. I’m glad she was in your hands. You’ve grown quite strong and beautiful since the last time I saw you, Asuka. Kousuke as well. I’m proud of you both.”

“Thank you, Mitsuki-san,” Asuka said.

“How touching,” Minagi added blankly.

Shortly afterward, Kenshi and Riki ran into the building. Then, the cedar-haired man went behind Manjuki and stopped. Riki halted in front of Manjuki, but his glare did not leave Kenshi for a second.

“You’re really hiding behind my sister, huh?” Riki asked. “Don’t be a coward, Kenshi, and just let me get my way with you.”

“No way, Riki,” Kenshi blurted out. “I didn’t mean anything serious about that.”

Riki’s gaze locked on with a cold look in them. “Oh? Care to say that again? I’m sure you won’t want to mess with my fists. Take responsibility for blubbering in the first place, why don’t you.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” Kenshi pouted.

Riki’s right eye twitched. “I’ll be however I am, so stop stalling and take my punches like a man. First, Ibuki had feelings for you, and now you’ve run your mouth about Manjuki. Who’s it gonna be?”

Hiro narrowed his eyes and thought, What about Sayuri?

Manjuki let out a breath and gazed at Riki. “Onii-san, there’s nothing to be angry about. Kenshi and I are only platonic, in regards to one another. The love you misinterpreted was the third and last one: friendship.”

Riki listened to Manjuki and sighed. “Okay, I get it. I’ll drop the whole thing, except there’s one more thing about Kenshi that we should clear up.” He shifted his position and looked at Kenshi, Sayuri, and his fellow Black Fox members.

Manjuki gave a light nod. “It’s alright; we all know—except for one of us.”

Riki’s eyes widened slightly, but he balled his hands into open fists with comprehension. He steadily addressed the sniper of the Black Foxes. “Kenshi, how do you feel towards Sayuri now?”

At hearing her name, Sayuri’s eye widened in surprise. “Eh?”

The fingers on Hiro’s left hand lightly jerked. “…” Yet, he stayed in his spot to hear the cedar-haired man’s response. He would not allow himself to wane in his friendship with Kenshi.

A short silence was inside Le Renard Noir. Kenshi turned around and stared into Sayuri’s eyes. There was something he was not certain of, but he had felt a release from within him some time while everyone was in the dimension. He knew something was not right before he and the others met up and then reunited with those who were in Roxanne’s area. The very thing which was gone from his entire body left no conflict and unresolved issues, but he needed to resolve it. Looking at Sayuri, he felt nothing. He searched, but still, there was nothing he could feel.

Huh? Kenshi’s eyes widened while he entered his mind. I… I can’t feel anything. My feelings for Sayuri are nonexistent than before we met all up in the last space of the dimension. What does this mean?

“Nothing romantic,” he announced in a quiet tone of voice. “That’s… I don’t know how my feelings aren’t there anymore.”

Sayuri was still baffled, and Rina’s eyes widened.

“Uh…” Sayuri trailed off.

“What’s going on?” Rina asked.

Takuji stared the two of them, but started with the blonde magician. “Rina, you must’ve forgotten.” His gaze narrowed toward his partner next. “Sayuri, I’m disappointed in you. You’re a Magician of Fate. You can deduce what Homura-sama has concealed from your knowledge after hearing what Kenshi said just now.”

Sayuri quickly shifted her gaze toward the mint-haired magician with a vexed facial expression. “What?! You’re always so lenient when it comes to Rina, Takuji.” She stared for a few seconds before adding in a calm manner, “Why does everyone else know that Kenshi had feelings for me, but I have to be the last one to find out? Does this really have to go back to Faye’s title as the being of Fate?”

The human males in the Black Fox Alliance were even more confused by the revelations unfolding.

“W-Wait,” Atsumu blinked with a dubious look on his visage. “Do Kenshi’s feelings have to do with the curse on the magicians enacted by Faye?”

Rina sighed, yet her facial expression was not one of exhaustion and anxiousness, but full of a composed look. “Yeah. Sorry to have hidden everything to you guys months ago. We magicians have been under orders not to talk directly about the real aspects of the curses. It’s should be fine now with the three of them rid from the universe.”

“So the truth of it originated from…” Kenshi cut himself short yet slowly.

“Yeah,” Rina reiterated. “Your feelings were the result of the powers of it. They were never real.”

“Rina…” Kenshi did not feel any resentment, so he was more understanding with his friend. “You guys went through a lot.” He smiled at Rina and Sayuri. “Not just the two of you, but all the magicians. Rina, didn’t you say what you did back then for our sakes?”

Takuto gazed at Kenshi. “For our sakes. As in, the rest of our team—the Black Foxes?”

The cedar-haired man nodded. “Despite the face Rina was following orders, when she said that the feelings I held for Sayuri were real, she instigated a new round of fun, and brought us to work together and our own bonds ended up being tested.” He glanced at Hiro and grinned. “Right, Hiro?”

Hiro was a little confused, but soon smiled back. “Yeah! We really did have fun teasing you, even with the arguments that happened in our group.” He was fond of those times. “Welcome back, Kenny.”

“Thanks,” Kenshi continued to grin. “It’s good to be back.”

“Hold on,” Rina said. “I didn’t do anything other than what I had to when I faked my words about thinking you were really in love with Sayuri, Kenshi. You’re giving me unnecessary credit for the things I haven’t contributed to.”

“But the things that are unintended are the ones that are fated,” Kenshi stated. “You’ve done more than you think because you’ve been with us for a long time. Having you around is more than enough. We wouldn’t have experienced so much without you and the others. I’d say we’d be ordinary guys doing whatever we wanted without a care.”

As if egged on by Kenshi’s words about fate occurring unintentionally, Mitsuki’s Book of Neon glowed brightly. In fact, the violet light shone to the point where it lit up to form a big sphere around the Black Foxes.

“What’s going on?” Riki asked.

“Beats me,” Takuto shrugged nonchalantly.

“Wow…” Hiro trailed off in awe.

“This is such a beautiful light,” Atsumu said as his eyes were fixated in bewilderment and interest.

While Mitsuki was speechless, Manjuki glanced over at her sister.

“Onee-chan, you should be able to come back now,” the younger Saionji sister declared neutrally.

Mitsuki’s eyes widened and she looked at Manjuki. “Eh?”

The light dissipated and the guys also turned their attention to the purpureus-haired magician with perplexed expressions on their visages.

“You were exiled for over nine years to this day,” Manjuki continued. “Your Book should be up-to-date. Therefore, you can return to Neon.”

“I’ve been forgiven?” Mitsuki questioned. Naturally, she was uncertain afterward. “But… It was my punishment for falling in love and pursuing my feelings for Riki that led to my banishment and the reduction of my powers. Additionally, you became the head of our family in my place, Manjuki. I’m at fault for bringing shame upon us.”

Minagi glanced at her eldest cousin with a tranquil look mixed with her stoicism. “It’s nothing you should fret over. The whole universe—Neon and the Human World—was saved. We, the magicians of the Hidden Resistance, weren’t the only ones who aided in our objective to ultimately end the entities. Everyone at home is grateful for your part.”

Rumi smiled with his mouth slightly opened and his closed eyes. “Yes. Truly. We mean it when it comes to the whole universe. After all, if Neon and its magicians perished, so would the Human World.” He opened his eyes. “Without us, you wouldn’t be alive. Not to be quite condescending, but it’s the truth.”

Futaba laughed. “Hehe, goes it show how much Circ overestimated us magicians! But, thank you. We can live our lives freely.”

Mitsuki felt herself filled with affection for the magicians. “You guys…”

Takuto glanced at Riki; he noticed something about the latter’s facial expression. “What’s the matter now? You’re frowning. Might as well make yourself known as the Attitude King, for magic’s sake.”

The grimace on Riki’s face didn’t budge. “…It’s just… Manjuki has several people who love her—especially men. I was also wondering about that Charles guy.” He instantly remembered the moment the dark green-haired male magician caught his sister-in-law in his arms, and the gaze they had for each other. “You two were off in your own world during a crucial time for everyone.”

Takuto narrowed his eyes. “Someone’s older brother instinct has taken over and transferred to his non-blood related sister. How overprotective do you feel, ‘cause I’m positive everyone senses an obligation to Manjuki than an innate response from you.”

Hiro nodded with narrowed eyes. “Uh-huh.” Then, he whispered, “Siscon.”

Atsumu giggled. “Oh my. Riki, you’ve said it now.”

“Haha!” Kenshi laughed.

Hyosuke made a disgusted face. “I want to barf.”

“Wow,” Kokoro breathed. “An extreme case, huh?”

Takuji stared at Riki with a blank expression etched on his visage. “Never thought it’d go this far. That’s a human for you.”

Aaron exhaled with a neutral staid look of his own. “Doesn’t exist with magicians anyhow.”

“So this is what my cousin-in-law is like,” Minagi noted. A faint smile appeared in a barely noticeable amusement. “Humans really are different.”

Asuka said with a gentle smile, “After living in this world, I’ve learned something new myself.”

Miyuki’s mouth opened a teensy bit. “A strange one is the leader of the Black Foxes. I’ve witnessed something oddly… appealing even Nonaga would agree with a little.”

Nao laughed. “Haha, how nice. Manjuki must be a bit unfortunate yet lucky at the same time.”

Rumi tilted his head slightly to his right with some interest. “Hmm~. Mitsuki-senpai, Manjuki-senpai, and Minagi-senpai have a human man in the Saionji and Hogo families. The addition to them is no doubt something that causes a ruckus to all the magicians, but can now be accepted gradually. Congratulations, Riki, and senpais.”

“Oh,” Mitsuki said. “Thank you, Rumi.”

Aaron changed the subject back to Riki’s bothered curiosity. “Well, Juki? Arent you going to tell your older brother about you and Charles?”

“I was getting to it,” Manjuki stated with a glance to the teal-haired magician. Then, she looked back at Riki. “Charles is my lover.”

Riki was surprised. “Manjuki, you’re dating someone?”

The purpureus-haired magician nodded. “Un. It’s been over eight years.”

“A long relationship, eh?” Atsumu grinned. “To think our Manjuki isn’t married.”

Manjuki glanced at the boss of the Black Foxes and replied. “No, I am.”

Hiro and Hyosuke shouted simultaneously. “Ehhhhhhh?!”

Taiga interjected, “I know this is late, but what happened to not disturbing the neighbors?”

Takuji gave a brush to his left with his right hand. “I soundproofed the building over four months ago.”

“Oh,” Taiga replied.

Atsumu laughed lightly. “Aha, my bad for bringing it up a while back.”

Takuto’s eyes narrowed while he was still aloof. “Yeah. You’re a bad fly that should’ve been swatted when you came back with everyone.”

“Hey…” Atsumu frowned. “That was uncalled for.”

Rina sighed and placed her left hand on her hip while she turned toward the light blond. “Takuto, you don’t have to be mean to Boss. We just went through a long battle.”

Takuto clicked his tongue. “Tch. You came in late.”

“I was back to full health after staying in Neon!” Rina yelled. “I even came from the palace to rejoin everyone for the last part, and you’re still not grateful for being alive. I was a fool for saving your not-so-sorry ass.”

“You want an apology that bad?” Takuto asked in an indifferent manner.

“No,” Rina rejected. “And I don’t want your thanks.”

Rina turned the other way, to her left side.

Mitsuki, on the other hand, was quite swamped from hearing her sister’s words. “Wh-When did you and Charles… H-How long have you two been married…?”

Manjuki looked down into her loli of an older sister’s eyes. “Well, we started dating after I graduated high school. Two years after that, I graduated college and we got married. We’ve had six years together as a married couple. Anyway, Minagi, Rumi, Ayura-san, and I are also teachers working with Asuka, who’s the principal, at Sozoteki Geijutsu Academy.”

“Charles-senpai has a mysterious aura,” Nao added. “It’s one thing that attracted Manjuki to him after your class graduated, Mitsuki-san.”

“Ayura-senpai was also a bit surprised since she and Charles-senpai are your friends and you three were classmates,” Rumi mentioned.

“Not so much for Elise and Aikishi,” Minagi informed in a serene manner. “They’re also your friends and classmates from the high school we went to, but it’s rare for magicians to be surprised because of something.”

Mitsuki’s shouldered fell. “I see.” She forced herself to smile and looked up at her younger sister. “As long as you’re happy, Manjuki. To think you and Charles are together is new to me, but… I’ll get used to it because we’re family.”

Manjuki blinked. “That’s fine, Onee-chan. You don’t have to be strong all the time in front of anyone. I can tell as much as everyone else how much you’ve felt hurt and sorry. You’re not the head of the Saionji family anymore, but you’ll be able to see everyone. Mom and Dad will be happy to see you’re well.”

“Manju-chan,” Mitsuki said. Her smile became genuine at that moment. “Thank you.”

Aaron glanced over at Mitsuki, exuberating his cool atmosphere and his ice-cold good looks, as always. “Can’t be helped when you’ve been banished from Neon for almost a decade, Mitsuki-senpai. You’ll quickly get back to living normally, though.”

Futaba smiled. “We should also apologize for keeping Kenshi with us. Thus, I’m sorry—along with the other Hidden Resistance members. We’ve caused you to worry.”

Riki smiled back. “It’s cool. We’re just relieved he’s been in good hands.” He relaxed his shoulders. “But to think you guys went to the same high school as Mitsuki is beyond our minds. Of course, Manjuki attended it, but Nao, the members of Multi-Star Clover, and the former members of Frenzycs, too. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I’ll say,” Takuto agreed in his monotone voice. He opened his laptop with his right hand. “I can finally check the date and time. It’s 2:49 a.m. on August 29th. Man, we took a while in the dimension after being sucked in at midnight.”

Sayuri nodded. “The fighting seemed to take a shorter amount of time, but we were in there for over two hours.”

Hiro heaved a sigh. “It sure wasn’t rad; it was bogus having to keep avoiding Roxanne’s usage of Rina’s powers. Takkun, Boss, and I were so not having any fun going all over the place.”

“We actually couldn’t get near her, Hiro,” Takuto corrected. “She was pushing us away from her, so we never got a chance to go around, either.”

Hiro puffed his cheeks out. “You know what I meant. She tried whooping us with everything she had! Doing gymnastics wouldn’t had saved our skins if it came down to having a last resort for us to dodge her.”

“I’d be a laughing stock from a circus and you’d be twirling and swinging yourself,” Takuto commented. “Beardless would be dead in no time.” He laughed. “Hahaha!”

A horrified yet angry expression donned Atsumu’s visage. “What?! You’re going too far with your imagination, Takkun! My back’s not broken, for your information!”

“Well your sense of humor is, or it’s nonexistent,” the hacker smirked. “You’re bad at disputing with people, so give it up already.”

Atsumu allowed a triste sigh to escape his mouth. “Huh… Why must you always be cruel to me?”

“You soul begs for me to,” Takuto answered, having reverted back to his usual nonchalant self in a flash.

Atsumu instantly lost his will to respond. “…”

Kenshi laughed. “Hahaha! Can’t beat Takuto’s retorts.”

Taiga asked, “You can’t?”

“They’re able to shut Boss up at a gnarly rate,” Hiro winked with his right eye.

Taiga’s eyes widened. “Sounds amazing.”

Rina narrowed her eyes a bit haggardly. “Taiga, they’re not as great as you think they are. Don’t ask Takuto about anything he says. He wouldn’t be a good influence on you.”

Still as stoic as ever, Takuto glanced at Rina. “That’s not true. Teasing you most of all brings me an awesome reaction.”

“…Go dump yourself off somewhere so you aren’t in the same place as me,” Rina flatly said with a look of lifeless eyes.

“You’re being petty there,” Takuto said.

Rina turned her back on the programmer. “…I’m done.”

Sayuri breathed. “Well, anything else we should all talk about?”

Kuruha proclaimed, “The final concert for Multi-Star Clover is currently undecided since Claire was supposed to finish the plans for it.” Her visage then became full of sadness and she looked down. “I… probably pressured him too much and I didn’t know he and Elizabeth weren’t themselves when I went to make sure everything was done. This was the last thing all of us from Multi-Star Clover and Frenzycs, which Claire, Aikishi, Aaron, and Rumi were part of, wanted to do together before disbanding MSC.”

Kenshi shared those feelings as well as the dark silver-haired young woman did. “Kuruha…”

Kokoro placed her left hand on her sister’s right shoulder. “Onee…” The look in her eyes showed no sadness, but the orbits were clear with a resolve, due to having to stand tall and strong for their long-time friends. “It’ll be alright. We can go on without Elizabeth and Claire. They’d want us to.”

Kuruha looked into those lime-green eyes of the amaranth pink-haired girl and nodded with a small smile forming on her face. “Yeah. We can’t disappoint out fans. They would be confused if we left them hanging.”

Miyuki’s eyebrows raised a little. “How are you guys going to go on without your friends? Elizabeth Diamond was the main vocalist and Kuruha Mamiya’s the center, despite the fact that Kuruha is more famous out of all the members.”

Kenshi lowered his head. “I’m not quite knowledgeable on most of the ways the entertainment industry deals with having any deceased talents in their agencies, but there are some groups that do end up disbanding right after. Or, the members split up and become solo acts. Overall, those who work in this type of world move on with their lives.”

Kuruha had a determined expression on her visage—her eyes were brimming with a will to keep going and her mouth was a faint line. She faced Kenshi and spoke. “I don’t want to quit when we’ve been planning our farewell concert to be back in Yamato1 after leaving South Korea with the last appearance we made. We’ve got to do something not just for those two, but for the fans.”

Hyosuke smiled broadly with a sensation of admiration and ecstasy erupting within his body, especially in his chest. “This is so cool! You’re giving off an overwhelming aura, Kuruha.” Breath taken, he felt himself grow cold with satisfaction, simultaneously with the hotness whooshing around inside.

Minagi closed her eyes and opened them. “Then, we’ll settle on a press conference tomorrow to announce Claire and Elizabeth’s deaths, and the concert as both an homage to them, to our fans, and one more thing.”

Kuruha turned her head towards the light green-haired member of the girl group. “Three things? What’s the last one?”

“It’s a secret,” Minagi replied. “For now.”

Kokoro blinked. “Can’t you tell us?”

“No,” Minagi denied.

While the Mamiya sisters were perplexed, Aaron smiled at Minagi.

“I get it,” the teal-haired magician said. “Mina, you’re pretty sly even as an adult. I’m proud to have you as a childhood friend.”

Minagi gazed at Aaron. “Likewise. You’re quite strong, Aaron. Don’t need to drink your milk?”

Aaron placed his right hand on his abdomen. “My stomach’s alright.”

“I see,” Minagi noted. “We’re down to four members in Multi-Star Clover, but there’s one person who has what it takes to go on stage with us.” She narrowed her eyes a very small fraction. “In Elizabeth’s place as well as her own.”

Aaron nodded approvingly before a smirk planted itself onto his visage. “Of course.”

Futaba smiled and looked at Manjuki. “This is fine, isn’t it, Manjuki?”

Manjuki stared into the picton blue-haired magician’s eyes. “I don’t mind.” She shifted and looked at Nao. “What do you say? Will you join us for the final concert, my one and only best friend?”

Nao’s eyes widened. “Me?” She gazed at her most special friend from high school. “Manjuki…”

“It’s up to you,” Manjuki stated. Next, she extended her right hand in a moderate motion. “If your answer is yes, my hand is here for you to take. If your answer is no, don’t worry. We’ll manage and have Rumi come in.”

Rumi winked with his right eye at his cousin, Taiga, Hyosuke, and Miyuki. “I give my consent in a heartbeat. It’s nice being with my former schoolmates, after all.”

Nao looked at Rumi with a slightly troubled expression. “Rumi. You don’t actually care about performing in the concert after you and your former band members disbanded Frenzycs years ago. What’s with you?”

Rumi kept his smile on. “I’m giving my love to our fellow magicians. I don’t mind. We’re cousins, so what’s the harm?”

“This is a female idol group, not a male one,” Nao argued. “I don’t mind joining, but you should refrain from activities since the entertainment industry would have a fit over mixing men and women in the same idol group. The Human World is strict about their rules, even with one concert. It’s different than Neon’s lenient entertainment industry, and we magicians know our world is more laidback with our celebrities.”

Rumi held out his hands so his palms would face up and motioned them toward his body. “Let the Human World fuss. It went through a so-called ‘calamity’ over four months ago. Things have gradually become different, and we recently saved the universe, so things are going to continue to change.” He set his hands down to his sides. “You’re not a hundred percent fine with the way we do things, oh beloved cousin of mine, but we’re making this concert our last change.”

“Your last change?” Nao wondered.

Rumi dodged the question. “Go finish your answer. You’re halfway through.”

Nao shifted her glance to Manjuki, who was still holding her hand out. “Sorry, Manjuki. I’ve kept you waiting.” While her best friend didn’t respond, she walked toward the head of the Saionji family, reached forward with her right arm, and grabbed hold of her hand. However, Manjuki returned her friend’s grip, to which Nao smiled. “You’re not even speaking to me. Seriously, how stubborn can you be?”

Manjuki let go of Nao’s hand, letting her own rest back at her side, before sighing. “You took your time.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nao said. “You know I didn’t mean to.”

“At six in the morning in front of Multi-Star Clover’s agency, we’ll meet,” Manjuki brought up. “We should have enough time before the school day starts to set up the press conference between today and tomorrow because we’re magicians.” She glanced at the other magicians in the restaurant/bar. “We should get back soon. It’s still tiring to be in the Human World for us.”

Asuka smiled. “Yes, we can’t stay here for too long. Today’s another weekday.” She placed her right hand on the side of her face; her smile was a bit conflicted. “The students must be worried.”

Rina agreed. “You’re so dedicated to your work. I’m sure the kids in the Human World tend to miss you a lot, Asuka.”

“We still have some third generation magicians students to teach,” Asuka replied. “We shouldn’t overlook the fact they’re also young.”

“I admire that about you, our princess,” Rina added.

Sayuri put her right hand over her mouth [to not let anyone see her yawning] with closed eyes. Her shoulders slumped from the exhaustion in her body. Another yawn came shortly after and her eyes closed once more. Her hand slowly—very slowly—fell to her side and she remained in a sleeping position while she stood.

Rina walked over to her best friend and a warm smile appeared on her visage. “Time to go home, huh.”

Takuto glanced at his… his what? He and Rina had not once rekindled their past relationship, yet they still held a strong flame for each other, which was actually quite rocky than fiery. The past few months were more of a tolerant way of him being nicer to her, but both of them were on different levels of stubbornness when it came to the other. However, he managed to say, “Be careful.”

Rina’s smile became fonder for the light blond. “Neon isn’t dangerous, but thanks, Takuto.”

The next few seconds flew by and Rina and the other magicians, minus Mitsuki, Nao, and Miyuki vanished from Le Renard Noir.

“Uh…” Miyuki trailed off. “I’ll… go home, too. Nonaga and the others at school won’t be happy if I didn’t attend school, so…” She glanced at Hyosuke. “I’ll meet you again, Hyosuke.”

Hyosuke smiled tenderly. “Yeah. Have fun, Miyuki.”

With a last smile on her visage, Miyuki teleported to Neon.

A short silence filled the area, but was broken by Riki.

“Hey,” Riki began as he narrowed his eyes. He was calm along with everyone else. “What’ll happen other than the MSC preparations?”

Kuruha looked at the leader of the Black Foxes. “Well, there’s still some stuff to do in order to move forward. You guys have it rough as well.” She closed her eyes and opened them. “For instance, we’ll give Claire and Elizabeth a small plate somewhere, but it won’t be in a cemetery, since we shouldn’t waste the places for other people to bury the ashes of their loved ones. Claire was once a writer known as Faire, as in the French verb meaning ‘to do or make.’ Elizabeth, Kokoro, and I supported his writings of our memories and adventures together before each death we went through because they’re precious to us. In all of our lives together and his writing, there were times when he felt like a father to us, and Elizabeth a mother, rather than our closest friends.” She stopped herself for a bit. “As for you guys, it may be insensitive of me to suggest this, but this girl—Ibuki—can have something done in a similar manner. However you guys want to remember her by is up to you, but I don’t think a grave is necessary after being in the dimension. Graves tend to have a sadder feel to them from our2 experience.”

Kokoro mentioned, “Yeah, they did seem to look after us. Sometimes, I wondered if we could’ve had more of a bond as a family, seeing as the four of us kept leaving our parents and our lovers to stay with them throughout our last years in every life.” She smiled brightly and giggled. “Hehe, and then we met Aaron and the others years ago. I really don’t know for certain, but perhaps they healed us and prolonged our lives. Can you guys believe it? We, who were going to die again over three years ago at the same ages we died each life we lived, had our own curse broken by them?”

Although Taiga, Hyosuke, Hiro, and Riki were a bit confused, Kenshi, Takuto, Atsumu, Mitsuki, and Nao listened without any bafflement.

Kenshi’s visage had a knowing smile. “The Eternal Reincarnation Cycle broke six years ago, right?”

The Mamiya sisters only smiled back.

“Wait.” Atsumu had a grim look on his face. “You’re saying that you’re really the quartet from the twelfth century? The ones who were led by Claire Fioré against the Roman Catholic Church and the founders of the Door to the Eternal Reincarnation Cycle?”

Kuruha answered. “Of course. We aren’t people who would lie about the truth.”

Taiga placed his right hand on his chin and his eyes narrowed as if he were deep in thought. “There was a rumor about the human members of Multi-Star Clover and Frenzycs years ago after your groups debuted. About… how similar you four were in appearance to your previous selves. Not only from your original lives, but every one after your first deaths.”

Hyosuke nodded. “True. There were a lot of photos in both old articles and books—not just history ones. They were even classes in school about you guys, then tabloids, and showings on television. You guys are legendary and living legends once more.”

Kokoro laughed. “Ahahaha! Legendary. Living legends once more. How amusing today’s generation is!”

Mitsuki commented. “Hiro may say some strange things the Human World has, but Kokoro has part of the olden Japanese language in her as well.”

Kokoro’s eyes narrowed fondly. “I am from an old era, after all. Onee is the one who’s always been more modern-sounding, even back then.”

Kuruha folded her arms. “Though, Kokoro tends to like being called an old lady, I don’t. Maybe I do fit in more with Minagi, Manjuki, and Elise in Multi-Star Clover’s group, but magicians find it to be one of the worst insults when someone calls them old.”

Nao’s mouth was a thin line, yet she was neutral. “We don’t age once we hit seventeen, and we’re technically immortal, aside from the curses that were placed on us and the restrictions of the Human World. Furthermore, it’s bad for our hearts to be pierced, but we’re made of gemstones, so it would take a magician who’s stronger than us to be able to kill us. This is another reason we magicians don’t have bad relationships. It’s a rare thing for anyone to want to kill another among us.”

Takuto proclaimed, “Magician facts are pretty useful. I’m lucky to have my laptop updated after we got out of the dimension.”

“It’s automatic, of course,” Nao replied. “You must have read plenty of the pages by now, Takuto.”

“With almost nothing but work to do since we took a long break from dealing with the 14K, I’ve been reading as much as I can,” Takuto stated. “Too bad the knowledge I obtained wasn’t useful in dealing with them.”

Hiro smiled casually. “Come on, Takkun. Everything worked out in the end. On the flipside, Rina used your laptop to save us and Boss! It was so cool how she threw it at Roxanne’s attack and reflected it back to her, especially since Roxanne was using Rina’s powers anyway!”

Mitsuki and Nao’s eyes widened. “Eh?”

Atsumu tilted his head to his left. “Is something wrong?”

Nao blinked. “It’s just…” She paused before continuing. “I assume Rina hasn’t mentioned it to Takuto or anyone else. A magician’s Book of Neon and their cell phone are both connected to their lives. She risked herself to save you three, so Takuto’s laptop would’ve most likely been damaged. Thus, Rina would’ve also been hurt from the attack and her cell phone would’ve cracked. Then again, if she didn’t have her cell phone with her when she went to help you out, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

Mitsuki sighed while the look on her face became collected. “I’m glad she wasn’t reckless. Rina knows as all magicians do of the consequences of their choices.”

Riki grinned triumphantly. “She made it before us, which was enough with what we’ve been through.”

Hiro pouted. “Poor Rina. She rarely gets any appreciation for doing things for us—mainly for Takkun, but seriously. We should throw a party for her sometime.”

Takuto narrowed his eyes while remaining aloof. “She’s not a victim, you know. She can handle not getting anything out of me.”

Kenshi smiled with a gleam in his eyes. “Now that I think about it, you two don’t argue so fiercely as you did before I was out of the picture. Did something happen since then?”

Takuto blushed in a fury. It was a quick memory jog for him, but he recalled their last kiss together months ago and the recent confession he and Rina exchanged before the promise they made. “N-No! Nothing a-at all!”

“What?” Kenshi urged. “Tell us!” He enjoyed his light teasing. “I’ve missed out, so let’s catch up, Takuto!”

“No frickin’ way!” Takuto objected. “You snooze, you lose, Kenny. I ain’t got anything worth tellin’.”

Kenshi’s mouth opened widely. “Aww! I’ve been with the Hidden Resistance and we took down most of the 14K’s forces during your break. Can’t you at least fill me in on the details?”

“Nuh-uh,” Takuto said. “I’m not saying anything.”

The banter between the sniper and hacker of the Black Foxes made everyone laugh. With Kenshi back, it wasn’t as lonely as before. The group wouldn’t have to be so serious about what they would do with their conflicts with the 14K resolved.

Atsumu felt refreshed and brought up something that hadn’t been done since the Four-Thirteen incident. “Why don’t we have our own pre-party right now? We should fill our hungry stomachs after our big ordeal.”

Taiga stared at the bar/restaurant owner. “That…” He smiled happily. “Sounds fun.”

Hyosuke’s eyes widened. “Bro…” Then, he felt a sense of peace and affection for his brother. “Yeah, it does sound great.”

Nao reached out with her right hand and petted Hyosuke’s head. She smiled gently, and they three of them seemed to be closer as a real family than before. There was a warmth spreading from them to which the members of the Black Foxes smiled at the sight. Atsumu went into the kitchen shortly afterward, and the Mamiya sisters also smiled tenderly. It may have appeared strange to have the end of the Black Fox Alliance at an early morning hour with two girls, who had lived many lives, with them. And yet, they all did their best to keep their smiles for those they lost and for themselves. It was not the same happiness from messing around for fun; it was a new ray of bonding before the hours would pass and dawn would arise.

XXX

It was 6:05 a.m. on the morning of August 30, 2007. The members of Multi-Star Clover had met up five minutes ago, along with the staff, which had Kokoro and the other magicians, including Rumi and Nao. Gathered in front of the agency they arranged to hold the press conference, the press and bystanders from around the city of Ginza waited in wonder of the news they would hear from the famous idols and former celebrities.

Aikishi was in a gray and gold plaid-pattern business suit and wore a pair of pewter dress shoes. As one of the co-managers for Multi-Star Clover, he was one of the representatives and stood on the left side of the table (right side for the audience). Then, he began with the words, “We are here today to let you all know about the details for the final concert, as well as to bring some information about the alterations to them.”

A reporter asked, “Could you tell us why Elizabeth isn’t present today? I can see that Claire isn’t here with you, to add. Also, what is Nao doing here with you?”

Another reporter inquired, “Are you doing a collaboration for the concert?”

“Wouldn’t this be the first time for MSC to work with Nao?” a third reported wondered. “Seeing as it’ll be the last time for the group to have a concert, is this why you’re finally doing something together?”

Kuruha, who was seated in the center of the table, said, “Settle down.” She wore a plain black dress that covered her shoulders with sleeves cut above her elbows. “It’s a difficult time for us, due to the fact we’ve lost Elizabeth and Claire to death’s door.”

Everyone around the group were stunned.

“C-Care to explain what happened?” one of the reporters asked.

“Both of them,” Kuruha said. “They were both suffering from something they couldn’t escape from, but it was too late before we found out. Yet,” she paused. “They were always putting us before themselves, so they never told anyone until the last moments of their lives. It was more than their own stasis, but darkness that closed them off from their five senses.”

Futaba took over for a few seconds while standing on the other side of the table. She wore a charcoal business jacket over a white button-down dress shirt, a matching skirt that almost reached her knees, and black flats. “To be cut off from the world and the friends they made was a toll for them, and for all of us.”

“In honor of them as well as for our fans,” Kuruha declared, “we will continue as Claire and Elizabeth would’ve wanted to make this the best concert Multi-Star Clover has ever put on. We also share the same wish they did because we’ve been together for the past six years, and yet, there was nothing we could’ve done to save their bodies. The only thing we’ll be able to do is go through the last performances before we disband and separate for good.”

“And what about Nao?” a reporter inquired. “Do you have anything to say about your role for the MSC concert?”

Nao, who was wearing her casual clothes, smiled lightly. “I can’t replace the group’s beloved main vocalist. I hadn’t met her before and I didn’t know her, but of her name and her several reputations as a figure from different times, and as a celebrity.” She let out a brief laugh. “Ehe, the person who could stand on par with my vocals is my cousin, Rumi Akihama, who wouldn’t have minded being a backup if I had refused to sing Elizabeth’s parts. I must say, I’m amused at my own reputation as the top idol and model right now. I do, however, have plans on retiring as well with the concert’s end.”

At the last part, everyone from the audience of the press conference were more shocked.

“Wha—” another reporter attempted to speak, but was still at a loss for words.

“You’re all uncertain if what I said is true,” Nao continued. “I assure you I’m not lying. I would rather walk on the path to the future with my husband, our family, and our friends. Even I believe the entertainment industry needs to stray away from the most famed talents, in which there are magicians. We have things going on as well, you see.”

With no shift in the citizens’ reactions, Aaron clapped his hands twice. As usual, he wore his black suit with a black tie over a white button-down dress shirt, while he stood on Futaba’s right side. With a smile for the public, he proclaimed, “Well said, Nao. Everyone, we do have our own things to do, other than stick with the agency’s schedules. On the other hand, we’ll hold the concert next Saturday night. The entries will be free of charge and open to anyone who’ll come.”

The staff gave the people time to let the information sink in with their pause.

One reporter asked seconds later, “Where will the concert be held?”

Elise gladly answered. “Inside of Tokyo Dome! It’ll be the concert of the year, so we’ve already arranged for it. However, we’ll make sure to broadcast live for anyone who can’t be there or if seats are filled up. Other than that, we will also make plenty of DVDs. Once again, they will be free of charge, so we’ll give them to you as gifts.”

“What time will the concert be?”

“Seven-thirty p.m.,” Manjuki said. “In case anyone has something to do such as work, eating dinner, and so forth, don’t fret. The DVDs will simultaneously be created with our staff’s magic.”

“By staff,” a female reporter finally asked, “you’re referring to the former members of Frenzycs, I presume?”

“Yes,” Rumi confirmed. He stood on Aikishi’s left side. “But do not forget Futaba and the rest of the staff will also be there to help us, and we’ll be working to make this an awesome concert for you all!”

Futaba smiled gently at the sea of people at the press conference. “Please enjoy the concert.”

Aikishi followed up. “It is our pleasure to bring this to you all in Tokyo.”

The rest of the group gathered gave everyone surrounding them a smile. Soon, flashes from the cameras and applause from the others [who weren’t holding anything] sounded throughout the area. The press conference came to a close and made its news on television, hence it was a worldwide sensation, but the seats were filled up on the online forms. Although many fans had their hopes for a seat for the concert broken, they were still guaranteed a DVD to watch and remember it, along with the idols they adored the most.

In addition, the members of the Black Foxes had resumed their daily jobs from before with Hyosuke as a part-time employee/mascot. Rina and Mitsuki cooked in the kitchen with Atsumu since business was booming once more, while Sayuri became the waitress there; she wore the black short-sleeve uniform shirt and pants the employees wore with black shoes. Hiro and Riki continued their jobs as waiters with her, Takuto went back to work sometimes at his company to stay away from the countless customers at Le Renard Noir, and Kenshi returned to his job as a firefighter, sometimes checking on his mother who nearly fainted at seeing him after those past few months, and helping out occasionally at Kikufuji. Taiga was still treating Hisao Watanabe, the ex-businessman alone at home, and Miyuki was still at school, talking to Nonaga. The guys at Fuse Investigations worked throughout the days and were proud to see the news about the Multi-Star Clover press conference and concert, just like the Black Foxes, Kujo brothers, and the ex-business man.

And so, the next nine days passed by as though they sped through a rapid motion in impatient anticipation for the concert. The night of September 8th was just getting started for the first performance. The cameras were ready with Kokoro and Kenshi in focus, while they and the surrounding fans were inside the nearly pitch-black area. As soon as the vivid lights ran onto the stage and seats on the lowest level, the J-pop music began. Every single one of the fans were pumped up and cheering to the sound. Altogether, the members of Multi-Star Clover and Nao appeared on stage in the back: Kuruha was in the center, Minagi was on her left with Elise on the light green-haired magician’s left, Manjuki was on Kuruha’s right side, and Nao was on the purpureus-haired magician’s right. Their first outfits were frilly dresses; Kuruha wore a slate dress with two straps [which were also frilly] and the dress itself reached until right above her knees, her shoes were gray ankle boots; Elise had a red dress with a single vertical strap on her right side and her dress covered down to the half of her lower legs, with a final touch of red peep-toe wedge heels; Nao wore a daisy white strapless dress that went down to the idle of her thighs and a pair of daffodil ankle strap slim heels; Manjuki wore a pomp and power dress where the straps crossed over and wrapped around her neck, and punch pink mules; Minagi wore a seafoam green dress with a single diagonal strap over her left shoulder, in which the dress length flowed down slightly past the middle of her thighs, and she had on a pair of salt white spool heels.

Fortunately for the Black Foxes [excluding Kenshi who was working the cameras with Kokoro], the Kujo brothers, Miyuki, and the guys from Fuse Investigations, they were sitting in the front row seats. After all, they made time away from work to come see their special ones who were a part of the concert. As the members of Multi-Star Clover and Nao began their performance, the audience waved glow sticks and waved their merchandise. Of course, Hiro got the most fired up for Nao and had more power to his cheers with a hot pink glow stick in his right hand, and a circular fan with Nao’s smiling cute face on it; this was obviously more support than Hyosuke did for Manjuki, and the other people in the dome. Sayuri glanced to her right and smiled at her lover, while Takuto glanced over two seats over with a stoic expression and a sigh. Rina was in the seat between him and Sayuri and patted her ex-boyfriend’s back with her left hand, and Atsumu smiled from the seat on Takuto’s left side. Riki was over on Hiro’s right side with Mitsuki next to him, and they smiled with affection for Manjuki. Taiga was on Mitsuki’s right side and stared with a look that told the world he saw Nao’s appearance to be the most incredibly beautiful one out of the girl group, and sitting next to him were Hyosuke and then Miyuki. At the very least, the front row seat holders had close-up views of the idols.

For the songs that followed afterward once the first one ended, the five young women changed into different costumes. These included to shirts—some with vests—and pants or skirts, and other dresses and shoes. Eventually, they performed their last song with the same clothes as their first song. After the song ended, the stage fell silent and they gathered together a few feet away from the edge. The fans and even those sitting in the front row with in a state of bewilderment, while the idols were waiting with smiles on their visages for the murmurs and dubious looks to die down.

“You all haven’t heard about this from the press conference,” Kuruha began. “However, there was one last thing Minagi had in mind. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll let her say it.”

Minagi told everyone, “Because this has been a major concert for us, Claire and Elizabeth, as well as for our fans, it is something some of my most trusted magicians know about. Nao doesn’t know yet, but with our finale and our disbandment right after the end of our concert, I want to leave these words engraved in all of your hearts. Without a doubt, things will become tougher without us in the entertainment industry in this world. Even so, there are other talents who need to grow and have those who will support them along the way. My fellow members and Nao shall leave the entertainment world… to a new era!”

At the end of her words, Minagi and the other idols raised their right arms up. The sea of people in Tokyo Dome instantaneously erupted with cheers for the end of the concert. Kenshi and Kokoro finished the footage before the members of Multi-Star Clover and Nao exited the stage. Aaron, Rumi, and Aikishi ceased the special effects and lighting, and the audience slowly evacuated from the area.

XXX

1) Kuruha is referring to Japan when she says Yamato.

2) While it is indirectly an experience for both Kuruha and Kokoro, the former is talking about how they didn’t have their mom around since their first lives and so on; that is, until their current lives.

#Takuto Hirukawa #Taiga Kujo #Riki Yanase #Hiro Sarashina #Atsumu Kashiwabara #Kenshi Inagaki #hyosuke kujo #LLFTX #love letter from thief x #Nozomu Fuse #Kiyoharu Nanahoshi #Sakuya Nanahoshi #Naomasa Sakura #Rui Wakaba #TLSL #true love sweet lies #voltage inc.#voltage fanfics

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lilcutieana · 6 years

Text

PANACEA~ 12 (ANGEL AU)

Word Count: 6.1k

Warning: angst, mentions of blood, gore, character death

Rating: 16+

Pairing: Bea x Jungkook, Taehyung x Y/N

Genre: Angst/ drama (happy ending)

Chapter one || Chapter two || Chapter three ||

Chapter Four ||Chapter Five ||Chapter six||

Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine ||

Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven

Hair white and shiny as woven silk, decorated with intertwined branches of holly and olive: lips tinted red like a blossoming rose, revealing thorny teeth that shone like a pearl freshly harvested, tongue as red and juicy as a ripe tomato peeks out to lick the soft dewy rose petal like lips and cheeks pale as the first snow.

Sat upon the pinewood throne, decorated with intertwining branches of mistletoe forming a beautiful bow was the Faery Queene. She smiled secretly, her lips barely moving while a million thoughts played in her mind; a thousand and one ways to ensure her enemy bowed down before her. She was the Queen, and she will continue to be so, for millennia to come.

She had poisoned her people who went against her, including her own husband and most of the court. Humans were amusing; what they wouldn't do for a little spell of love, fame and eternal life in exchange for some iron and ammunition – deadly to the Fae kind. If only the child— an imitation of a true prince had been a good boy and stayed human like he was supposed to, but no, he had to learn of the Fae way of living and interfere.

If he agreed to overthrow the current king and be the puppet for her, ruling the land in her stead, she would spare his life. She had a lot of compassion and forgiveness for those who celebrated her, worshipped the very land she walked on. She would show him what a true queen is like. But… if he dares cross her, well… he surely won’t – if he knows what’s good for him.

Smirking, she lifted her cup of wine and waited for her trusted garden faery to enchant and bring the boy 'who outlived his life'. Garden faeries have natural seductive nature and their songs not only brought along spring to the world but mating cycles among humans and animals alike. Surely, this one human child will not escape the temptation.

Angels talked, and she knew just how to make them talk.

Taehyung. Interesting boy, he had an amulet from the Angel of death herself, preventing his soul from being targeted by anyone who wished him harm. But now that he willingly removed it, he would become the scapegoat and her ticket to having the only thorn in her path nipped. How amusing indeed.

Human relations makes you weak, and she was just going to have the most fun in centuries exploiting that. Oh, how amusing indeed, to make the angels cry and to make the Fae king bow before her. Oh, no, not king. Not just yet, he was just a Prince by birth.

Park Jimin, you have messed with the wrong Queen.

~*~

The four angels sat in a circle, huge backpacks laid at their feet filled to the brim with weapons of choice-- all made with pure iron-- with Jimin at its center. Unintentionally, yet it made sense as he was their top priority at the moment. Angels can't be killed but can be tortured and they were fine with that so long as their little Angel was okay, the Faery Prince.

Closing his eyes, with his hands placed on the Earth beneath, he murmured a song only he knew the words to, yet it made the baby hair behind everyone's neck to rise in attention. The wind picked up in speed, trees, and grass swaying along with it and their hair being whipped around. Shielding this eyes from the dust that the wind carried, the angels looked on in amazement and pride at how powerful and focused he was. Just as Jimin stopped singing and opened his eyes, the wind had all but stilled, the birds had resumed chirping and a familiar scent had filled the air. "He's here" Jimin whispered.

Raising his head, he turned around and smiled, "Hoseok. I believe you are well?" "I wouldn't have bothered coming if not, Little Prince." Bowing low, he smiled showing his sharp teeth and dropped it immediately-- a glare replacing the warmth in his eyes as he registered the company they had. The faeries despised the angels.

"You're doing a shit job at being discreet, I can smell the iron you have there." Pointing at the bags, he snarled. The skies started to turn darker as the clouds came gathering in-- thunder and lightning sparking up the skies and the Earth rumbled beneath their feet. It felt cold, too cold-- even their breath came out in white gasps like Dragon's breath. "You think I wish to harm the Prince? Nobody can harm him, not even the Queen. He is the chosen one from the ancient Gods, they would always protect him." Scoffing, he looked at Jimin with sad eyes, "But you want to kill me by summoning me here? What did I ever do to you to deserve this?" Breathing heavily, his eyes flashed and a bolt of lightning hit somewhere far in the distance, shaking the very land they stood upon.

"It's not for you. It's for safety while visiting the Fae lands. We intend to take the Queen down before she ends up destroying both Fae realm and the Human realm." Yoongi snapped from the right side of Jimin. The angels had surrounded him, lest the old Faery lose control over himself and do something rash.

"We need you to take us there hyung, without anyone else knowing," Jimin demanded, eyes flashing a bright gold momentarily, his ancient blood evident in its shine.

"Is that a royal command, my Prince?" The Fae asked with a little smile playing on his lips. The sun peeked out from beneath the dark cloud which had started to scatter and lose it's darkness bit by bit. Their skin gaining color again and the frosty temperature seemed to come back down to the pleasant warm autumn weather.

"Yes, before the end of the month it must be done. The Fae lands call for me, I accept my duties. This is a direct order from the crown Prince of the Seelie court." Jimin revealed without an ounce of hesitation in his voice, his eyes sharp and focused on the Fae minister of his father, the King of the Seelie court.

"Very well then", Hoseok nodded his head and turned to the angels with his hands clasped in glee. "You need to modify your facial features to look like Fae kind. Disguises are important after all" As soon as he said that, Y/N gasped in horror. She should have thought about that first. Of course, a disguise was of most importance. They were so focused on protecting Jimin, it had completely slipped their minds.

Holding onto the sword they all had hanging from a thin chain on their necks, they slowly transformed themselves to have elongated ears, sharper teeth, pointed nose and almond eyes. Their clothes previously made of leather and silk was now made purely out of plant silk and cotton. The Fae took pride in being closely knit with nature, and they made sure nothing looked out of the ordinary.

“Does this look okay?” Yoongi asked Hoseok with a frown on his face, inspecting his dark brown cotton shirt and khaki pants.

“Perfect. You’d pass away as a commoner just right.”

“And me?” Seokjin asked donning a white shirt open at the chest with frills running along the seams, smirking at all three of them. Jimin sighed and shook his head at the overconfident angel.

“I think you’d be one of them, eccentric kind. Sure to draw attention and a good distraction when we need one.” Hoseok smirked at his jab to the beautiful angel who rivaled his own beauty he was so proud of in his kingdom.

Soekjin was about to refute and defend himself, but a hand on his shoulder from Y/N stopped him from arguing further. Nodding his head he looked at the Fae and bowed. “Let us into the Unseelie court please. We have a Queen to meet.”

Raising his hand, Hoseok formed a circular gesture with his wrist that formed a small mirror like surface floating in the middle of the field they were standing on. As he stepped back, the mirror grew bigger and bigger, hovering in the air right where it was made, the surface highly reflective, yet blurred everything that could be seen on it.

"What on earth is that?" Exclaimed Jin, stepping back from where he stood with the backpack clutched tightly into his hands for defense.

"This is the portal, come let's get in." With a backward glance at the angels and a nod to Jimin, he walked forward with fast, determined steps and passed straight through the mirror.

"Did he just----" Seokjin sputtered pointing at the hovering portal. He was flabbergasted but mostly amazed. While he was used to using wormholes, this new portal was much cooler. Well, it looked cooler, he didn't know how it actually felt.

"Yes, yes he did." Y/N replied smiling excitedly. She was all about adventures, and this was exactly what she came to Earth for. Some excitement in her mundane schedule.

Holding onto Yoongi's hand and clasping his fingers tightly, Jimin dragged him by the hand towards the portal and touched the surface with his fingers. The surface of the mirror trembled like water and formed ripples.

Stepping back, he made an appreciative sound that all four angels echoed back. This time, instead of just touching, he followed Hoseok's example and just walked through it, disappearing into the mirror as if it were a door dragging a very uncooperative Yoongi behind him, who tried his best to protest by dragging his feet in the grass below while clutching onto the straps of his backpack. Yet, everyone knew he was only putting up a front. If there was anyone who wanted to get rid of the enemy, it would be Yoongi. He liked things simple and always worked hard to remove each and every obstacle from its root before it could become a weed.

Right after they disappeared, Seokjin stepped back, shaking his head he raised his hands in front of him. "No. I'm not going through--that-- that thing-- it eats people up! How can you be so sure it's not a trick? You know how tricky the seelie people are behind their civilized behavior ".

Why wouldn't anyone understand where he was coming through? Everyone trusted Jimin and that minister blindly. Jimin--- was understandable, they'd spent ten years together. But Hoseok? No way! He was sketchy from the get-go. He was the eldest for Christ's sake. Why'd no one believed him?

"Look, you're the Angel of death, you defy rules all of the time. You want to go? Fine! But not me. I'll be in a whole world of trouble if I followed you all down that mirror or rabbit hole or whatever. I hate this!"

"And here I thought you'd be bravest of us all. It's okay, an adult is needed with the kids. Go stay behind." Shrugging her shoulders, Y/N walked forward with her bag in her arms and slung it over her shoulder. Once she had her back to him completely, she let her smile slip. She knew, just ten seconds and he'd follow. The eldest Angel just had a penchant for throwing tantrums every now and then.

With every confident step forward that she took, his heart beat faster, thrumming like a hummingbird inside a cage made of bones. He was scared, he realized, but not for himself. He was scared for her. Once she crossed the boundary, there will be no coming back. He knew death will follow, but he knew her better-- she hated to be the cause of someone else's death. With no choice than to follow her, to support her, he took a deep breath and shook his hands, hoping it would help to shake off his nerves. Not that it ever worked, and it didn't this time either.

Grunting, he followed behind her and picked his own camping bag, lugging it over his shoulder as she stood mesmerized in front of the hovering mirror that reflected them-- yet they weren't recognizable enough. The reflection was distorted at best. Holding her hand and intertwining their fingers, he licked his dry lips and gulped. Tugging her forward he closed his eyes and walked until he felt his breath being taken away literally. It felt like he was underwater, even walking was difficult with how dense it had been.

One more step and he was able to breathe again. Taking huge gulps of air, he fell on his knees with a loud thud and soon Y/N collapsed behind him. Opening his eyes, he tried standing up, but the dizzy feeling hadn’t subsided yet and he fell again. Groaning, he looked above at the dark sky. Despite it being night time, the sky was clear and had millions of stars shining back at them. If only humans hadn’t cluttered their own realm, they could see this majestic view. Scrambling onto his feet he rushed towards her and was soon followed by Jimin and Yoongi opening her boots, rubbing her soles. She was unconscious and barely breathing. It was all his fault. He shouldn’t have suddenly dragged her along with him.

Looking around, he spotted a lot of plans growing around that had all colors of the rainbow and were huge in size. None of the plants looked like anything in the human realm or the heavens above. Looking at Hoseok, he gestured around him. “Know anything of help?”

Despite there being two moons that shone above brightly and huge flowers that bloomed with a sweet scent, all of them focused on the dark angel with onyx wings laid upon the dark green grass dotted with purple flowers.

“Of course I do, but it’s the little Prince who should help her. Don’t ask for favors you cannot return, Guardian of humans.” Pointing at Jimin, he smiled in encouragement.

Reciprocating his smile, Jimin got up and walked away from them. Half turning on his way, he hollered back, “I’ll fetch some herbs that’ll wake her right up!”

~*~

The dark red and brown themed room with wooden walls and polished wood flooring was now lit with little rose shaped candles that smelled faintly of oranges and cinnamon. The many shadows cast upon the walls by the tiny figurines placed in the room together formed some of the very grotesque and horrifying images to the already shaking human tied up and gagged on the four poster bed draped in red silk and white lace curtains from above forming a halo around him. Naked from the waist up, his skin was flushed and bared countless claw marks with dried blood on his skin like flower buds ready to bloom.

A woman with white hair that reflected the moonlight and shimmered in its presence, walked towards her bed dressed in all white, like a human bride on her wedding night, on which laid a human teen whose arms were tied up with twine dipped in venom that seeped through his cuts and mixed with his blood. As she stood at the edge of her own bed, the Human begged her with his eyes not to come any closer. His eyes had dark circles and lips chapped and a sickly blue. The poison had started to take effect on him, slowly disintegrating his blood and destroying his nerves until his stopped on its own. "Tell me child, have you had enough lashings?" Her soft voice crooned by his ear, licking it for good measure. "Are you ready to tell me where your friends are?"

Jerking away from her touch, he whimpered and drooled saliva through his mouth gagged with her lace scarf. Shaking his head, he begged again with teary eyes. "Oops. Seems like I misjudged your ability to speak, Taehyung." Dragging her elongated nails along his collarbones to his navel, she watched as he shivered and sucked in his stomach, making his ribs jut out. Smirking, she dragged her nails along his happy trail towards his pants when all of a sudden she stopped with a scowl on her face.

She hated being interrupted in her fun. This was truly funny how the one he wanted wouldn’t pay her any attention yet he denied the attention of any other female except the only angel who had gifted him with life instead of taking it. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

The rhythmic thudding of footsteps with a progressive staccato could be heard racing down the hall, stopping the Queen in her tracks. She had ordered one and all to specifically leave her be. She needed to know all there was to know about this boy who had managed to not just evade death but somehow had the Angel of death wrapped around his pinky too. She needed his secret and needed it fast.

While the garden Faery had failed in her mission to seduce him to the point of incoherence and bring him back to the land of Fae, he had willingly followed her here. Begged the faery even to take him to where his angel had gone leaving him behind. The poor sod had no clue what he was getting himself into. Had he known he’d walk into his own deathbed, perhaps he wouldn’t have chosen to come along.

Or maybe…that was his plan all along. If he couldn’t be with the angel of death in life, he shall be with her in his death. Smiling to herself she waited for whoever it was that dared to come into her chambers and intrude upon her fun times.

The door burst open revealing a bunch of leaves arranged like a silhouette of a woman. On closer inspection, she had all the facial features of a woman too- eyes, nose, lips- all made out of leaves of different shapes and shades.

"The Seelie Prince has come and he isn't alone, your highness" The moment she spoke up, she screwed her emerald green eyes shut and waited for her punishment for defying orders, her body trembled in fear and her leaves had started to lose its shine. The Queen tilted her head and contemplated her words, a slow smile spread across her cheeks but her eyes didn't seem as happy despite the smile she had.

"What does he want here?" She spoke through gritted teeth while maintaining her smile that did nothing to calm the dryad. Taking a step back, she looked behind at me and jerked back in surprise when the Queen raised her hand to comb her fingers through her hair, a permanent glare set on the dryad.

"Well?" Urging the faery who served her court, she tapped her feet trying not to burn her at the spot. She'd miss valuable information if she did.

"He requested an audience with your highness," she said with another bow. Gritting her teeth, the Queen glared at the dryad until she raised her head and met her emerald eyes with the graphite ones.

"You've quite the beautiful eyes, a courtesan. It would be a true shame if it were to be taken away, no?" The Queen asked circling the dryad, who averted her eyes and shook her head.

"No, your majesty." Widening her eyes, she realized her mistake. "I mean, yes, your majesty, it would be a shame" In one swift movement, the Queen had her fingers deep into the tree Faerie's eye sockets. White blood seeped through her fingers and dropped to her clothes. Yanking her hand back, she had two little dark green opaque spheres with transparent emerald green circles for irises.

"Huh, not as pretty to be kept." Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she glared at the dryad now writhing in pain with twin black hollow spheres where her eyes used to be, seeping translucent white sap. The Queen’s hand slowly turned as red as her lips and amber flames erupted through her palm burning the eyes that saw her with Taehyung on the bed.

Holding the palm with the molten eyeballs, she dropped them on the dryad who screamed in agony as she caught on fire-- her whole body made out of leaves, twigs and vines-- burning-- like a campfire while the Queen laughed and laughed at her misery. Running out of the Queen's chambers she screamed and wailed to be saved but all of the guards and courtesans averted their eyes and plugged their ears instead. Nobody wished to get in between the Queen and her petty punishments.

Running and running blindly the dryad reached the end of the corridor that extended into a balcony. She ran through it and fell straight into the semi-frozen pool with sirens and water sprites in them. Before the Queen could reach there, the water sprites came to her one by one and with spouts of water being pushed onto her burnt body, she healed little by little. At last, one of the sirens hummed a song and she came back to consciousness. Her eyes had been formed again, though not as brilliantly shining as before. It had dulled to a murky green now.

The Fae Prince along with four other angels stood with their mouth gaping open like a fish out of water in front of the dryad that was being healed. Pulling her out of water, Seokjin turned to Jimin, "What now?"

Once they stepped in front of the Royal Palace of the Unseelie Queene, Hoseok had left matters into the hands of Jimin and took his leave. He promised to bring back a complete arsenal of soldiers at Jimin's-- the future Fae king's-- disposal. However, Jimin refused all help and proclaimed that he was only there to make a request and claim what belongs to him. It was not the Fae who claimed the lands, but the lands who chose their ruler.

She had destroyed the Fae lands and polluted it. She'd shed blood of those who were innocent and kind and brought in human filth that had no place in the Fae realm. He had nothing against her at all. If anything he understood, there must have been a grave emergency for her to take those measures. But surely, there must have been other ways to go about it. It wasn’t too late yet. If they talked, surely a solution could be drawn. But if it was a war she wanted, he will not back down. The land was calling out to him, and it was time he answered the call in front of a big audience.

Jimin crouched down beside her and held her face in his hands. Kissing her eyelids, he pulled back and watched satisfied as her eyes sparkled like gems under the sun. She smiled in gratitude and the whole courtyard of the Royal Palace suddenly went shock still. Not even the water dared to make a sound in the pool.

Following their gazes to the balcony, Jimin was shocked to see the Faery Queen. She was decked in all white from her hair to her crown, her dress and even her jewelry- everything was white, making her look paler than she was, or perhaps she was already just as pale.

“Now we know she’s not worth talking to. We are outnumbered here and must play our cards right.” Whispered Jimin which was heard loud and clear by the Angels who stood behind him like a protective shield.

Her crown was made of bones and white flowers, her necklace and white silk-like hair adorned with white orchids, or what looked like orchids—were faeries who sat atop her hair and coiled around her neck, their beady eyes watching every move and whispering words of advice to the Queen. She wore a thin chiton made of the finest white silk held together below her bosom by the golden scarf. Bangles made out of conch shells decorated her wrists and ears. Her grey eyes fixed in a glare upon the Fae prince who dared to enter her palace without prior notice.

She wanted to torture his friend a bit more before inviting him and making him beg to release his friend of the spell she put on him. She meant to slowly turn Taehyung into one of their own—so he would never be accepted into the human realm anymore, neither be accepted as one of the Fae and wish to end his life to escape the misery that was sure to follow him for not accepting the affections of the Queen.

A pity, he had been such a bad boy, she just had to poison him. He was not worth the risk of betrayal that was sure to follow. His soul was pure and he would never close his eyes to the many wrongs that went on in her kingdom. She couldn’t risk him rebelling against her, no matter how fun and exhilarating that option was.

With a smirk and an elegant bow, the Queen descended the stairs one at a time, and the court awed at her ethereal beauty that could rival every human to ever exist. Her upturned cat-like eyes twinkled under the moonlight and little moonflowers grew on the path that she walked upon. Halting in front Jimin, she tilted her head.

Kneeling in front of her, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her dewy fingers. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Queen." Raising on his own feet, he could scent the faint fragrance of frangipani and Jasmine waft from the Queen. He imagined her to be more-- cruel looking and ugly--for the things she had done. Never would he have imagined a soul so evil to look so innocent and pure. He wondered what went wrong for her to opt those ways of living.

"For a child of ten human years, you look far more grown up than you should." She observed, her dainty fingers touching his cheeks and smiling in appreciation. A child or not, she would not mind showing him the Royal Fae way of living-- lust, leisure and luxury. He would be the perfect toy to own, to mould him to her shape and preferences. He would know nothing but her, she would be his entire world. Oh how wonderful it would be.

"I can't sense Taehyung for two days, it's weird but now in here, I feel his presence stronger than ever before. But our connection is fading away, its like he is very sick—I can feel our bond weaken." Murmured Yoongi to Seokjin who was looking at Y/N worriedly.

"How can you feel Taehyung, of all people, in here of all places? You sure it isn't you wanting to escape, is it?" Jested Seokjin nudging Yoongi by the ribs.

With a scowl, Y/N turned her glare towards the two angels fighting amongst themselves, effectively shutting them up. Turning around she focused on the Queen. "Greetings, your Highness. I'm Azriel. I believe growing up among Angels made him perceive the world a bit differently than more humans." Y/N bit back a reply through a smile that looked more of a grimace.

"Ah, the Angel of death herself. How do you find my kingdom, if I may ask?" Directing her gaze to Y/N, the Queen watched her with an appreciative gaze that darkened when they landed on her dark black wings. She detested black things, they reminded her of her childhood.

“Its absolutely beautiful. As beautiful as the Queen herself. Makes me want to stay in here forever instead.” Y/N bowed to the Queen, but deep within, they both knew what she truly meant. Ignoring her jab, she focused her gaze back onto Jimin. She needed his power that made her skin tingle and mouth water. She needed him on her side.

"May I ask what brings you here in this kingdom?" The Queen asked trying to divert her mind from thinking of the past that existed no more. Seokjin stepped forward and stood beside Jimin proudly. Jimin smiled knowing he had his hyung's complete support. Breathing in, he contemplated how to best voice his concerns.

"I wanted to visit the lands is all and greet the Queen who I heard wanted to see me. Instead of making you travel all the way to the human realm, I thought I'd come see you instead." Jimin replied, his voice smug and confident.

"I still think something happened to Taehyung" whispered Yoongi from behind Y/N and focusing on his energy, he vanished into thin air. The Queen knew just where the silver haired Angel had vanished into. Despite their Fae clothing and elvish looks, their sword necklaces revealed their true nature. Enraged, she glared at the angels and the Prince.

"You come into my home unannounced and dare to enter inside without my permission?" "Guards!" She screamed and pointed at them. "Surround them and hold them captive. An angel has entered my room. Capture him too." None of the trees, vines or selkies moved. Furious, she ordered again, "I said--- get them! It's a direct order from your Queen!"

Yoongi came rushing out of the balcony with a bleeding Taehyung in his arms. "He's losing his life force! Seokjin help me!"

"How dare you come into my palace and take away my plaything!" Her eyes flashed into molten silver and a vine detached from the balcony and wrapped itself around Yoongi's throat. Unable to breathe, Yoongi dropped Taehyung from his arms while his face progressively became purple with the lack of air. Another vine detached from the balcony and held onto Taehyung mid-air. Gently dropping him in front of the Queen while little thorns grew all around Jimin, Y/N and Seokjin.

"Guards!" The Queen screamed again and the thorns started growing taller, effectively restraining them in one place. "Tell me, should I publically make an example of what happens when you try to outsmart me or let you go, in hopes you shall never return again?" She addressed Y/N, knowing how she felt about the human boy who she had poisoned right before coming down the stairs. She couldn't be bothered with him when he didn't give in to her seduction.

Raising her hand, the Queen closed her eyes for a moment and the vines that had wrapped themselves around Yoongi instantly retreated back and coiled around the marble balcony railings. There was no point wasting her energy and power on an angel that could never be killed. None of the Fae or the land responded to her calls and she had to use her own power to move things her way. Was Jimin that powerful to have claimed a land that had not been his to claim at all? How could he claim her throne away from her? She would kill the bastard child before it could sit on the throne she protected all her life.

Yoongi fell from the balcony straight into the pool below as the vines grabbing onto him retreated back and sank underwater. The water sprites carried him to the edge and retreated back into the pool, where he coughed out water and collapsed on the grass instantly. Breathing heavy, he tried to feel his bond with Taehyung and was shocked to find it weaken further. How was it even possible?

Gasping out loud he realized, Y/N was no more in her feline form, concealing her powers and without the necklace, if she went anywhere near Taehyung, he would die instantly, what with the poison already weakening his heart and body.

Jimin had had enough of her playing with his family and crouching down he took one fistful of the sand and closing his eyes started slowly humming a song in the ancient Fae tongue. The Earth shook and groaned beneath, skies changing to absolute darkness and covering the moon behind the thick clouds. The thorns that surrounded them like a cage now began to head towards the Queen in the same rhythm he was singing.

One of the thorns pierced right through her throat and a second one went straight in between her brows. A third vine went past her chest and slowly they attacked the queen one after the other. Now that the angels were no longer surrounded by the thorns, they both rushed straight to Taehyung’s side who was taking his few last breaths.

“Taehyung-ah…” Y/N started as soon as she kneeled beside him. Taking his head softly on her lap, she tried to take away the stray hair from over his eyes and caressed his cheeks softly with trembling hands. She knew he was a human and had a short life. She knew. Yet she had let herself fall in love. She tried so hard to distance herself from him. But was it all worth it? Of course not! She should have listened to Yoongi and had the most of the present when she could.

“You can’t die like this. You can’t die on me!” shaking him she sobbed with a hand over her lips trying to conceal her sorrow from the world. She was the angel of death, dealing with a thousand deaths every day. Then why would she cry over a single mortal? Insane…wasn’t it?

Even the screams of the Fae queen behind her did not faze her one bit.

"We all return back to the earth, Y/N. It's okay if we couldn't be together. I have no regrets." Coughing up blood, he screwed his eyes shut and winced. Holding onto his throat he breathed heavier with an open mouth.

"Death comes to us all, sooner or later. I have no regrets, none at all." Straining his voice, even his veins popped out by his neck, he opened his eyes, smiling faintly up at the dark Angel who saved his life the first night he saw her. "I have lived my life happily, I have my memories of you, so don't worry, I'll be okay. I'll always love you" With one last breath his eyes had lost its spark and despite the warmth of his skin, he had turned blue from the poison running through his veins.

"No! Taehyung! Don't say that! You'll live" softly tapping his cheek, she wiped the teardrop that fell onto his forehead. She was crying? Why was she crying? She never cried. "You can't give up like this. You're not supposed to die so soon. You promised me!"

Yoongi screamed clutching onto his heart as he felt his bond with Taehyung break. Getting up on his knees he looked towards where Y/N sat with tears streaming down her face, eyes vacant and lost, clutching onto Taehyung tightly against her chest as his blood soaked her pale blue dress. He knew the moment Taehyung had given away his necklace that he wanted to die if death were to come for him. He didn't want to be protected by the Angel when she didn't even love him back enough to choose him over her pride.

Yoongi wanted the Angel to fall in love with Taehyung. He wanted her to witness the death of a loved one and feeling just as helpless as he felt watching his parents die in her hands. But now that his hidden desires had come true, he loathed himself forever wishing that on her. She was far from innocent, yet she had feelings, unlike the other Angels. Instead of feeling satisfied from his revenge, he felt like he was the darkness and hated himself for causing her pain and grief.

Clutching onto the grass, he ripped a fist full of it and threw it somewhere far away, screaming in agony. Why? Why did he have to die now? He didn't deserve to die. The kid was so pure and innocent. His soul so kind and forgiving. What kind of a guardian was he? He didn't even think twice before rushing to the Fae kingdom without taking proper measures to protect Taehyung. He was his assigned guardian and he couldn't even protect the kid!

He watched astonished as the skies rumbled and the thorns started receding into the ground below and Jimin collapsed into Seokjin's arms. The castle cracked and fell to the ground along with Queen who had turned into a white marble statue in the middle of the whole garden. The Fae people who surrounded the castle huddled and started running away scared for their lives as rain started to fall from the skies above.

Y/N got up with Taehyung in her arms and walked towards the pool, setting him by the edge. Picking up a handful of water, she let him drink a sip and murmured a chant to protect his soul. She wouldn’t, couldn’t ever claim his soul. She’d call upon Uriel to assign someone else for the task. Jimin was safe, and so was Seokjin. She had nothing left here to do anymore. Looking back at the chaos behind, she smiled faintly and clutching her sword that hung from her neck, vanished into thin air.

Chapter one || Chapter two || Chapter three ||

Chapter Four ||Chapter Five ||Chapter six||

Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine ||

Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven

#angel bts #bts angst #park jimin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #kim seokjin #bts

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brigdh · 6 years

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Reading Wednesday

The Pride of Chanur by C.J. Cherryh. A space opera more concerned with ethics and friendships than battles and politics. The Pride of Chanur is a merchant ship crewed by the Hani, a lion-like species in which the females are in charge of trade and diplomacy while the males stay back home and fight one another for control of powerful households. Captain Pyanfar is on a typical trip, docked at a trading station, when a strange, naked alien that looks like nothing she's ever seen (though readers will quickly recognize it as a human) runs onto her ship. Another species, the Kif, soon demand its return, but Pyanfar refuses, as much because she dislikes the Kif and is happy to annoy them than for any deep reason. That choice lands her and her crew in escalating danger, as the Kif are determined to get the alien back and will declare war to do it and other species are drawn into the conflict. A great deal of the book is about the difficulty of translation; even with long-contacted species like the Kif, the Hani are forced to communicate in short, broken sentences and deal with deep cultural differences. With the humans, they're starting from the ground up, and matters like gestures, clothing, and food are as prone to misunderstandings as language itself. How do you even tell the difference between an sentient alien and an animal, if you have nothing in common? I loved this sociological part of the book. Unfortunately, I didn't like much of the rest of The Pride of Chanur. I didn't connect emotionally with any of the characters, I found the descriptions of space travel deeply confusing, and I have no idea at all how Hani society is supposed to function. For example, it seems like the male fights over households are supposed to be one-on-one, but then we're given a description of a whole crew invading and pillaging an enemy house. Is that illegal? Are there laws regulating these fights? What does a new male leader mean to the daughters and sisters of the former ruler – are they cast out too, or do they just have to obey a new boss? All of this is pretty important to the climax, but I just couldn't figure it out. The Pride of Chanur has its positives, but I don't think I'll be reading the sequels unless someone talks me into it. Cibola Burn by James S.A. Corey. The fourth book in The Expanse series, and so inevitably this review will contain spoilers for previous books. After the events of Abaddon's Gate , humanity suddenly has access to thousands of solar systems, most with inhabitable, Earth-like planets. And yet in a very believable, petty example of human nature, we're fighting a war over just one. The Cibola in the title is metaphorical; it's one of the mythical 'cities of gold' the Spanish conquistadors searched and killed for in their early days in the New World. The idea of being beyond the law, of pillaging fortunes from a new land, is a major theme in this book, and Cortez and his methods get name-dropped at least twice. A group of refugees, homeless after Ganymede was torn apart by war, riots, and alien monsters, settle on a planet they name Ilus. At the same time, the UN grants the Royal Charter Energy corporation the exploration and exploitation rights to the same planet, which they've named New Terra. This immediately sets up several consequential questions that no one has the answer to: since the refugees beat RCE to Ilus/New Terra by a year, do they have rights of priority? Does the UN even have the authority to give out contracts over these new planets? Where do Mars and the Outer Planet Alliance stand? Who owns the lithium ore the refugees have already mined and transported into space? And since the rest of humanity is months or even years away from Ilus/New Terra, can anyone stop RCE and the refugees from killing each other before politicians settle the matter? James Holden and the crew of the Rocinante are sent in to act as mediators, since a) Holden is, by this point, a popular celebrity, and b) as an Earth native and former OPA operative, he can be seen as neutral. Unfortunately matters quickly grow beyond his ability to control them, particularly when the defense system set up by long-dead aliens wakes up and adds a third front to the killing-everyone campaign. As always in The Expanse series, we have a set of new POVs. Unfortunately this time I didn't like any of them as much as usual. Holden repeats again, and our others are Basia Merton, Elvi Okoye, and Dimitri Havelock. Basia was formerly a minor character in Caliban's War, the father of one of the other kidnapped children. His son died, and in reaction to that Basia has become fiercely, perhaps stupidly, protective of his surviving family. They are some of the refugees, and Basia's grief leads him to make several dangerous choices when confronted by the RCE. He's a sympathetic character, but I just didn't find him as captivating as Avasarala, Bobbie, or Pastor Anna. Havelock was also a minor character before; he was Detective Miller's partner in Leviathan Wakes. Now he's second-in-command of security for the RCE. It's just too bad that his boss is Murtry, a straight-up sociopath who doesn't care how many people he has to kill to give RCE an advantage. Havelock explicitly says that he's overly influenced by the people around him, and so goes along with Murtry's plan for far too long. As a character arc, this did not work for me at all. There is some suspense in waiting to see if Havelock will grow a spine and do the right thing, but it's not nearly as intriguing than if he was genuinely convinced of Murtry's ideas and had to change his mind, or was in some sort of physical danger that prevented him from helping the heroes. Finally, we have Elvi, an exo-zoologist working as part of RCE's science exploration team. More than anyone else, she understands Ilus/New Terra and how very different it is from Earth, despite superficial similarities. She makes several important discoveries that save lives, but she's dangerously naive regarding politics and human relationships. She also falls desperately in love with Holden and begins to act like a besotted teenager; this is believable as a reaction to the stress and life-threatening circumstances she finds herself in – and the narration does make it clear that's what's happening – but it was still somewhat annoying to read. It was hard to take her seriously as a respected professor when she was blushing and stammering over her crush. Overall, I didn't like this book as much as the previous ones in the series. It just wasn't as exciting and the characters weren't as likeable. On the other hand, I did really enjoy the found-family vibes between Holden and his crew: Naomi, Amos, and Alex. (Which reminds me: I forgot to mention the AMAZING scene in Caliban's War where Holden literally proposes marriage to the whole crew. He's half-joking, suggesting it more as a way for them to easily become co-owners of their spaceship than to actually enter into a poly romance, but I still loved it.) We have Amos nearly murdering people when Naomi is taken hostage, Naomi issuing vicious threats when Alex's safety is endangered, and Holden going to new extremes to protect Amos. It's just a whole circle of love and family-of-choice and it is my very favorite trope. I'm totally giving this book an extra star just for that. In general, Cibola Burn is a step down in quality from previous books, but I'll still be reading the sequel. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant: Survival Tips for the Horticulturally Challenged by Veronica Peerless. A really excellent how-to guide for houseplants, possibly the best book on the topic I've ever seen. It's split into two halves, with "The Basics" offering general tips and "The Houseplants" giving specific guidance on 119 common species. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant is aimed towards newbies, but it also included tricks that were new to me, such as how to save an overwatered plant by wrapping its soil in newspaper. I particularly liked the troubleshooting offered in "The Houseplants"; it explains, for instance, that yellow leaves on one plant might mean it needs more water, while yellow leaves on another species might indicate that it's getting too much sunlight. It's easy to look up your specific plants and get tips on how to best care for them. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant is available as both an ebook and a physical book, but I'd highly recommend the physical book. It's beautifully laid out, with a collage-like style that mixes photographs and abstract cutouts. A great book for anyone who raises houseplants, 'horticulturally challenged' or not! I read this as an ARC via NetGalley. One Way by S.J. Morden. A sci-fi thriller set in the near future: 2048, to be exact. Mars has been visited, and it's time for humanity to build a permanent base there for the ease of future astronauts. But how to do it? Robots are expensive and prone to breaking down, whereas human labor is even more expensive and when they break down there's likely to be lawsuits from family members. Xenosystems Operations, the company who has contracted with NASA to build the base, hits on the perfect solution: convict labor. After all, it's not like they can escape; they'll be on fucking Mars, and there's not a lot of spare oxygen or rocket ships for them to steal. XO runs a private prison in California (named Panopticon; subtle, Morden), so all they have to do is select a team of seven people with life-sentences who are willing to serve the rest of their time on Mars, give them a few months of training, and send them on a one-way journey – even once the base is built, they'll be a need for maintenance and janitorial services, since astronauts have more important things to do than unclog drains or charge batteries. In exchange, the prisoners get work they can be proud of and a bit more freedom in their daily lives. Frank is our narrator and main character. Sentenced to life for murdering his son's drug dealer, Frank is a former construction worker, an obviously useful background. He and his team of six other prisoners, each with their own specialities (transportation, plumbing, electricity, computers, hydroponics, and a doctor), plus an XO employee to be their guard/boss, quickly find out that XO has cut every possible corner to save money. They have no redundant supplies in case of wear or mishap; broken or missing necessary parts; barely enough food to get them through; problems with producing their own oxygen, water, and power; and not enough training for emergencies. Unsurprisingly, this quickly starts to take its toll, and people die in easily preventable accidents. Except by the third death, Frank suspects that they're not just accidents – someone on the team is deliberately murdering the others. He has no one he trusts, help from Earth is months away, and in the harsh environment of Mars the smallest mistake can kill, so Frank is left to figure out the murderer by himself before he's the next victim. Morden is an excellent writer of tension; there's several wonderfully dramatic scenes involving characters in spacesuits running out of time on their oxygen supplies that were heart-pounding and thrilling. Unfortunately he's not a great author of mysteries. The murderer is SUPER obvious, so much so that it makes Frank look dumb for taking so long to figure it out. At the point where Frank discovers a bunch of empty oxycontin packets around the murderer's bed and still doesn't think it might be him, I had to groan out loud. (Of course, being a drug addict doesn't make one a murderer, except that this is totally the kind of book where it does.) I also had problems with Morden's science writing; I think he expects his average reader to know more about space than I, at least, do. There was a lot of techno-jargon I didn't know, and I never could manage to picture what the base Frank and the others built was supposed to look like. On the other hand, I am highly predisposed to like a book that's this critical of the use of convict labor for corporate profit, and the excerpts scattered throughout of XO's private communications really make it clear how far down the path of evil a bit of greed and pure capitalism can get you. Hooray for a nice dose of contemporary politics in my escapist reading! I do want to note – because I didn't know before reading it – One Way is not a stand-alone. A sequel is due out soon. Nonetheless, One Way ends at a good point, with almost all of the plot threads wrapped up. You won't feel like you've gotten only half of the story if you read this book alone. I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.

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#books #book reviews #james s.a. corey #cj cherryh #S. J. Morden #gardening #the expanse

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elizasepistolarytravels · 6 years

Text

A knife.

1.) I've never cried once when I waxed my legs.

I can feel it though.

as I can feel the breeze and the cold

and the salt evaporating from

the sand caked beach.

And its taste on scrambled eggs,

and your rain coat on the peg,

and your stolen eyes

stealing my body

as the door screeches

shut

in that scream that I dread.

And I can hear the sound of pop corn,

and people in the street,

their red mouths like

poppies

and bulls eyes

in a Rolling Stone magazine.

Telling lies.

And yeah, I like my coffee black.

S'how I decided to like it

as I have once in a party

sworn

that I was born

with my tongue flipped backwards,

my taste buds starting at the bitter bit instead.

Said that just to excite them.

I love movies.

But never cry in public.

I'd never cry if it pleased the Republic.

What I do is, I try to get a grip of their minds

See my vision through a

screen.

But lets not get too dark, shall we?

I love the sight of wool-

Transformed and processed,

refined,

Blessed.

And how it scratches on my back,

sharply.

And how it goes around and itches my neck,

hungrily.

And wraps around my waist and burns me.

But that is how I choose to dress.

And yeah I love the feel of rain and stuff,

and cycling,

and laughing,

and falling, and scrambling

and crying,and crying.

And the crisp sheets on my childhood bed,

how when you got lost in them by yourself, tearing the sheets apart.

I felt nothing.

Not the wool, nor the the coffee, not even the leg waxing.

As you saw, as you watched my eyes go forever red.

2.)

The scent of her bluebell

earrings made them mad.

She swayed a halo of hair at their

bluebird eyelashes that wished to fly away

and perch on her shoulders,

adoring her teacups of cracked silence and

dry toast.

The love she held to them was bitter,

conscious of her power,

she did not let them see through

her skin.

Lotus palms higher chakra fingernails

on her parchment thighs and a longing of

consumption of trimmed misery,

a pattern of stolen space shared in corners.

They were all so beautiful.

Their souls were white, I tell you.

And one by one, she would let them into her room

and thank their lives.

Kissing their shoulders with

whiskers of leaves.

They would try to run their hands over

sudden quivering glimpses of lake blue stillness,

that shattered across her eyes.

They were making it worse for themselves,

They were making her remind herself of

the numbing stitches that lay as maps over her brain.

2.)

How is it for you,

as you sit pink eyed?

Your skin, un-stretched

from hurtling warship storms

shines golden,

awesome disney penny golden,

slightly akin to our

Kath Kidston bread rolls and hours of

spiky cricket.

It is easy to fall in love

with your idea of an anxious

death of new-boy,

oxford- sandle- schoolboy.

Beatings.

I relish in your fire.

In your even slightest oxygenation and combustion rust.

When clippings fall off your Thatcher-esque milk-carton teeth.

But that barely satisfies pits of knotted words.

And jaws pulled open to emplace chastity belts.

Onions,

Wikka crosses.

Suffocation.

My body is a battlefield of eyes,

rashes, scratches, and many many apparent scars.

I try to walk across your face,

down expensive liquor suns.

My life was an orphan. My hands

were open and a ghost took them.

Now I can only scream.

Your sight makes me cry and you continue to shine,

And you sit down in the sand and - ‘help me’.

This is snow globe ancient.

It is swoons of acid sooty waves, storms and storms

of the shipwreck cleaner - the orphan.

You explain to me life as if it were a mere

plastic

globe.

Eccentric.

Disposable.

And most probably Toxic.

One of the reasons I am doing this project is because of trauma.

Poetry is so wishy-washy and ambiguous so lets get straight to the point.

Not many people detect this, some may sense pain and things like that, but on the whole, out of all the things this project has turned out to have a connection to, the trauma that also spurs it is not something not talked about a lot. It has paced my life, as good old trauma tends to do. It paces this piece of art. As so, it turns out that this is also an attempt to heal. I am taking courage, taking hold over my life now. I will write and speak and run until I don’t need to, until I feel at last at home in my own crawling skin. I will run to where I feel most protected, where I have felt I can breath at last, the warmth of the earth and the quietness of the fields of Nature. Where I feel I am of the same mud as the rest of this earth.

Trauma. As it is for many others, trauma is insidious. It is a natural, scientific, real, proven, (blah blah look up the research) whatever you want to call it, phenomenon. It changes your brain. It is when something or someone through your childhood development and right into your adult life, comes in and disrupts the healthy boundaries of your body, your mind and your sense of self. When you are ok, you have a normal bubble where a healthy ego may develop and later on in life, thrive. When not your bubble is more this weird mashed potato. Or many different states of mashed potato. When you have not experienced trauma you know the boundaries of yourself and others and more importantly you know how to maintain them. My bubble, both physically and mentally, was distorted (made mash potato), from an early age. It was not for me one event, it was also a, combination of people and moments. The lines are blurry, and yes, I agree, the line of victim and perpetrator is difficult, and sometimes confusing, there there remains a constant. From an early age my boundaries were laughed at made lesser than, later used and twisted. It is the plight of the perception of women or anyone made lesser, their bodies made objects. Just to repeat: My existence, as for most of us, is a lot of pain. It is at times unbearable. You cannot demean this, or make this any smaller than the immensity I feel in my mind at some points of time. I guess this is speaking truth to survive. So back to the little talk on trauma. The healthy development I was meant to have by now is supplemented by the voices of those who opened me up and ate me raw. Psychologically, it is self-doubt and even hatred, somatically, it is sometimes a bodily fear of others or not knowing boundaries, exuding too much closeness and intimate energy and then at times freezing up out fear when my body suddenly realises the danger it put itself in. Or just fading away, giving in, not feeling. It is also crying and panic, yeah that happens. I can’t imagine what it must be like for people with trauma greater than mine, but this is not the point. I am here to talk about my trauma. Because it is time to take back what people took from me like chocolates, when truthfully, if he really cared for and respected me, he wouldn’t have ever fucking done that. There is no way to reconcile that in my mind. I have tried utter, truthful and surrendering forgiveness, but you know what that just didn’t work for me. So here is my story.

I met an old friend the other day, I didn’t expect him to be there, or ever see him again, although paradoxically I knew we would cross paths. This past month has been a month of giving for me, of building up projects like this one. I fucking stamped out the voices that were being stupid and managed to do the things I needed to do. I have had a precious time, I have met wondrous people. If you recognise yourself here, well done! I love you. I have made some true connections and touched others’ lives because I reached out in my truth, and so did hey. Spoke from the soul. It is something that I am proud of, my present life has taken a turn I really like. I am now again fighting for something that is outside of me, but in the process makes us laugh, connect, and feel at home. I am a fucking warrior. I did what I promised to myself, I fucking fought and got out of my hole of self pity, and I was happy for a while. But the golden light passes, as all will pass, and already, as a woman, I feel the end of the cycle coming, a time for darker thoughts needing to be processed. But also, this time was also powered by unsustainable energy, of escapism by excessively giving, and as I realised on the only day I was really sober, that parts of it were numbing. Some of you picked up on that, because after a while you see the cracks in my self, you see that something is wrong, does not quite align, you don’t know what it is, can’t put your finger on it, but something is very off. And that is when usually I ward you off or distract you with part of a persona I create. Frantically. No, I am not always OK. As many of us are.

A person of my family, a close friend of mine, grew to take me and what I am made me separate and lesser, a thing he could use. Anyway, starting off as a weird symbiosis of children it turned into an entitlement to the body of women, because I don’t know, like our sick culture of disgusting posh all boys boarding schools? Just saying. And because of his parents and the rest of the family gradually built him up to think of himself as the best. That can hurt and damage a person forever. What does all that pride give you, when you are a hollow empty narcissistic vessel by night? Just saying. Anyway, that is my trauma, or whatever, or was my thing, I can make it public because I want to, and because I like the idea of revenge, and because you do not overstep my boundaries. This piece of writing is a knife.

When I met you again, dear friend, you reminded me of this. And yes, the beautiful, and real parts of this project, are a part of it, but they are not everything. The need to reconnect with people of my life is because I have presented a frantic, scared, fractured persona a lot of the time. I have manipulated and quickly attached myself to a few people, a few best friends that would fill up my broken terrified heart. I have a string of best friends, relationships, that I become intensely entwined with to feel safe, out of pure need to survive. And then cut them off without the batting of an eyelid. That is fucking terrible. I don’t know how you could stand me for the time you did. I was a manipulative piece of shit, that could probably not respect your boundaries also. And if you took distance, that was very wise of you, I thank you for that, because the pieces of me that can still feel want you to be happy. I would cut off my friends as soon as they saw this. Next. It was all just survival. I would then hunt for my next prey and hope they would fill in this hole by using them in a weird symbiotic way as a part of me. The letter writing is also to not hide anymore, to get back in contact with you, to say sorry, but also, to truly talk to you and laugh about our past, to feel kindred spirits in this world that is tough. Because this state of frenzy has to stop. This fear has to stop. It is time I take back the knife, and stab back where it hurt the most. Enforced empathy. Making you hurt like I hurt even if you don’t want to. Now you will all know. Now the world will know. That I will not shut up. Now we attack back.

This girl fights. You seemed to have forgotten that.

Trauma. We build up this conversation together my dear friend. You who monologues a lot like men do, who forgets that I made this myself too, a part of you may feel good for having helped me, but this is also fucking self-generated. We talked about this together, how trauma is the underlying epidemic to us all. It is the sweeping waves of suicide that we seem to find hard to explain (Duh??). It is the never-ending cycle of creating men (and sometimes steel women) who are not warriors, but machines. Of honouring psychopaths, capable of disguising themselves as heroes, but who are actually machines built up from a world that has taken out a piece of their usual empathetic development. It is not usual male aggression. It is broken boys. Fracturing other peoples sense of self, as traumatising a population becomes the greatest weapon of war. Civilians and women, children, weaker men. Today, battling in Syria and elsewhere, we are not fighting a just war. Our machine men from our psychotic culture are traumatising women and children, sexually abusing other men (remember Abu Ghraib in Iraq? that seemed hard to explain for some reason). The greatest form of destruction is to destroy the minds of a population. Fighting terrorism is a weird Freudian cover up of a will of our population to manipulate and enjoy destroying another. It is the need to keep our women quiet and useable, to satisfy this machine mentality of soldiers off to feel good about killing things.

You and I were a microcosm.

You took a part of me, as some have taken a part of you, to fill in the hole that they start to take out of us, to be part of this culture. We inherit the past of our parents. It is the Ouroboros. The never-ending cycle, a snake eating its tail. Until someone in the chain decides to say fuck off and break from it herself. You also had a choice when we started to see it happen. But you just wanted your own satisfaction really. Psycho.

My escape is a necessity. It has now gotten to the point that it is more dangerous for me to stay silent than to reach out and take control.

This is me yelling. My art is me yelling. Our poetry is us yelling. This is me yelling about the very mantle of trauma that is stitched into the fabric of our society. It is so entrenched, as it has been in society, that it is barely utterable. Like a colour we cannot see, a collective amnesia. And it suddenly started spluttering out: Me too!

And me.

I am one in three women,

Lots of men told to kill their feelings.

Trauma comes in degrees, the refugee families and individuals I have met have amongst our laughter, our alchemy and dancing, talked about their trauma. I relate. It is not my trauma, nor my degree. But it is trauma. A category I relate to.

This is us taking back control. I do it for you but know that it is our turn to fight back. It is healthy to re-establish your boundaries of a world that took yours away. Create your knife.

So lets write, paint, sing, yell, make moments happen. Transform the world. Lets gain back control over narcissists that have fucked our world over. You are allowed to be the best you can. To brandish swards.

So this is my life’s work.

This is why I am doing this. And will continue to do things like this for all my future. And also, I am now going to have a fucking good time and enjoy life and not get caught up on this moment, or what ‘happened to me’, but it is important that it is out there, that it is not told to be kept silent. And if you every want to consider re-building your mind, or if you want redemption, this will be your life’s work too, or I will make it yours by force. Trust me, I am now the girl with the dragon tattoo, a dragon of my Mexican people that have been fucked over by white men like you (By the way, can you feel the power of Mexico and other countries starting to fight back? Being beautiful? Exciting right?).

So these are the letters. The start to break silences, to have stabbing conversations. No I am not tame. No my parents. My family. I will not do this nicely and silently. If you want to write a letter that stabs go ahead, if you want to thank all those who truly saw you and your truth go ahead. If you want to honour the world with your words and your beauty, go ahead. Lets cut to the real.

In a letter, you open the world. You can build and do other things you want from there. So lets start to stitch together connections of real discussions, or raw real open discussions, of the possibility of connecting networks between those who have seen trauma and who understand the pain of the world, and who alchemise it. We are the future.

And fuck those who tell you to be less real, to tone it down. They are cowards.

Dare,

Dare to connect.

We need truth more than ever.

We need reality more than ever.

We need beauty more than ever.

Fuck you Jack.

Eliza.

Right, now this is done, lets get back to life and cycling.

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